The Magelands Epic: Storm Mage (Book 6)

by Christopher Mitchell

  ‘You’ve never been in battle, child,’ said her mother. ‘You don’t know how it feels to be a soldier. You and I both know that it’s impossible for the Empress to get supplies into Rainsby, and impossible to re-take Stretton Sands until winter has passed, but that’s not how it will appear to the abandoned garrison in Rainsby. Every day that passes they will look north, hoping to see the imperial navy sail over the horizon, and each day that doesn’t happen, they will feel more betrayed.’

  ‘Betrayed?’ cried Karalyn. ‘The Empress would never betray them.’

  ‘Let me ask you something; the families of the slaughtered garrison in Stretton Sands, do you think they appreciate the nuances of the Empress’ grand strategy? Containment, forward defence, digging in and waiting for the Rahain to exhaust themselves? Where has that got us, except six thirds of attrition and losses? Not a single military victory to speak of, just a lack of defeats, until today. The people won’t understand why we’re not marching south right now to re-conquer Stretton Sands. It looks like we’re afraid.’

  ‘The Empress is not afraid. And if you’re so full of advice, why haven’t you mentioned any of this before?’

  Her mother smiled. ‘I have gone over my views with the Empress in some detail, and on more than one occasion. Do you think I’m frightened to speak my mind in front of her Imperial Majesty? I have urged from the beginning that her strategy was wrong, and that we should we send our full strength south to take on and defeat Ghorley’s army in the field, and then topple his regime. But she’s stubborn. Always has been.’

  Laodoc coughed. ‘One could say the same about you, Daphne Holdfast.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘but she’s stubborn and wrong, whereas I’m stubborn and right.’ She put her glass down onto the long table. ‘That was a lovely meal.’

  ‘Tabitha has turned out to be a fine chef,’ Laodoc said, ‘and Gerald’s quite the expert on wine.’

  Karalyn caught her mother’s eyes.

  ‘I’ve enjoyed my visit here over the holiday,’ Daphne said. ‘So nice to see you all again.’

  ‘Are you going back to work soon?’ said Corthie.

  ‘Yes. I shall be leaving for the Holdings in a couple of days, so I’m back in time for the opening of the next session of parliament.’

  ‘It’s been wonderful having you here,’ said Laodoc. ‘I think the Empress has appreciated it as well. She needs someone like you to challenge her. She had Dyam before, but now I fear she is lonely up there in the Great Fortress.’

  ‘Nyane’s a good herald,’ said Karalyn, ‘and she’s always by her side.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Daphne, ‘but Nyane’s too deferential; too Rahain-like in her respect for the chain of command. Her Majesty is a person like anyone else; she’s going to make mistakes now and again, and what she needs is a person who can speak to her as a friend, who isn’t afraid to talk back to her. You could do it, you know,’ she said to her daughter. ‘The Holdfasts have always been bad with authority. Don’t be cheeky, just don’t be scared of her.’

  ‘I’ll try.’

  ‘Good. Now tell me about the new face I saw in her Majesty’s inner council. The Kellach man.’

  ‘Calder?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Karalyn thought for a moment. ‘He’s the Empress’ new chief lawyer. The old one was involved in the attempted coup at the end of spring, and is still locked up in the dungeons beneath the Great Fortress along with the other plotters.’

  ‘I assume you’ve read him?’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘Well?’

  ‘He’s had a few problems,’ Karalyn said, ‘mostly relating to his previous marriage. His ex-wife lives in the Kellach quarter, and seems to hate him, but I’m not sure of the reason.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I didn’t want to pry. It’s bad enough that I have to look into the minds of everyone that enters the uppers floors of the Great Fortress, I not going to go digging deep into their personal lives.’

  ‘I would have thought that was part of your job,’ her mother said. ‘What if this Calder is hiding a secret? If he’s treated his ex-wife badly, then should he be trusted as a member of the Empress’ closest advisors?’

  Karalyn stared at her mother. ‘He can be trusted.’

  ‘I hope you’re not swayed by his good looks.’

  ‘No.’

  Her mother smiled. ‘But there must have been some boys who have caught your eye? It’s a big city.’

  Karalyn cringed. She hadn’t told her mother about losing her virginity shortly after arriving in the capital, and had sworn Nyane to secrecy about it. Since then, she had avoided drinking too much in the presence of the young Kellach men that worked in the Great Fortress, and had resigned herself to her work.

  ‘Not really.’

  ‘Any girls, then?’ her mother said. ‘I have sometimes wondered if you preferred girls.’

  ‘No girls either. I’m just not interested in romance at the moment. There’s too much going on.’

  Daphne smiled. ‘I’m sure your father would be delighted to hear you say those words,’ she said, ‘but I worry about you. You’ll be nineteen in a couple of thirds, and you’ve never been in a relationship. I’m not saying you should be married or anything, but maybe it’s time to think about dipping your toe in the water.’

  Corthie laughed.

  ‘Karalyn has plenty of time,’ Laodoc said. ‘I was well into my twenties before I had any kind of romantic liaison. I was a most awkward youth. Girls used to terrify me.’

  ‘Then perhaps you’re not best placed to give advice on this particular subject,’ Daphne said. ‘An expert on constitutional law and practice you may be, but a relationship counsellor you are not.’

  Karalyn frowned. ‘That sounded rude, mother.’

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ said Laodoc. ‘Your mother and I have known each other for a long time. Holder Fast only gives her critical advice to those she loves; she has no time and cares nothing for the opinions of anyone else.’

  ‘You have me there, old friend,’ Daphne said, laughing.

  ‘Then you must love Bridget,’ said Karalyn.

  Her mother raised an eyebrow, then nodded. ‘Yes. I do. We’ve rarely seen eye to eye if I’m honest, but she’s strong. She ran the Severed Clan, even when your father was the chief. He delegated everything to her, and it was obvious why – she was the best person for the job, just as she is now. She’s kept the peace in this continent for sixteen years, right up until Ghorley’s invasion, and I don’t think anyone else could have done it.’

  Corthie stifled a yawn.

  ‘It’s getting late,’ Laodoc said. ‘I might turn in for the night.’

  Gerald approached from the shadows of the room and stood by the old Rahain’s chair, ready to help.

  Daphne frowned. ‘Winter’s Day, and none of you are drinkers. This is probably the soberest household in the city.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Karalyn. ‘You’ve done quite a good job with that bottle of brandy.’

  ‘And I might take it out onto my balcony with me,’ her mother said. ‘That’s if you’re all going to bed?’

  ‘Aye,’ said Karalyn, rising. ‘Good night, then.’

  ‘Good night, Kara-bear. Love you.’

  Daphne rose to her feet and kissed her daughter, then gave Corthie a hug as the boy rose from his chair. Karalyn went through the door of the dining-room, and Corthie bustled out after her.

  ‘I love mother, but I thought she was going to talk all night,’ he said as they hurried up the stairs.

  ‘It’s only for a few more days,’ Karalyn said, ‘then we can go back to our old routine.’

  ‘It would have been easier if you’d just told her the truth.’

  ‘The Empress asked me not to. Apart from you and Laodoc, her Majesty is the only other person who knows.’

  They reached the second floor landing and continued to climb.

  ‘She’s going to be upset,’ Corthie said.
/>
  ‘I know.’

  After a further three flights, they arrived at the top floor of the townhouse. The rooms leading off had been designed as servant’s quarters, and there were no balconies on the side by the sea-wall. Karalyn took a key from a pocket and unlocked a door. She and Corthie entered a dark hallway, and she locked the door behind them. A gentle sobbing could be heard from the other room, and Karalyn opened the door. A young woman was sitting in an armchair by a small round window with a view of the sea, her knees drawn up by her chin. Piles of books lay scattered on the floor nearby, while three cats were vying for space on the armchair. The young woman glanced over as they entered, her eyes widening.

  ‘Where have you been?’ she said, tearstains marking her cheeks. ‘I thought you weren’t coming.’

  ‘Sorry we’re late,’ Karalyn said, as Corthie began stroking the large ginger tomcat that sat perched on the back of the armchair. She dived into the mind of the woman, as she did every day, to check that all of the blocks on the mage powers were still in place.

  ‘I thought you’d forgotten about me.’

  ‘You know we’d never do that,’ Karalyn said, sitting in a chair opposite the woman and lighting a cigarette, ‘but I’m afraid Laodoc won’t be coming today. He’s tired. We can pick up your history and language lessons tomorrow.’

  ‘What will we do instead?’

  ‘I was thinking of practising your reading.’

  The woman’s face fell.

  ‘You can pick the book.’

  ‘Alright,’ the woman said. She jumped down off the chair and began shuffling through the piles of books on the floor. ‘This one,’ she said, holding it up.

  ‘I like that one,’ said Corthie.

  Karalyn groaned. ‘The one about the princess locked in the castle? Again? Fine. You start, Belinda.’

  The young woman smiled as she sat, then opened the book and began reading.

  Chapter 3

  Greyfalls Deepen

  Greyfalls Deepen, Western Sanang – Winter’s Day 524

  Torrential rain battered down on the wooden and thatch roof of the healing hall. The long gutters were sending streams of water flowing down into the muddy drainage ditches, adding to the noise. The rainy season had begun a third previously, generating a constant background accompaniment to the daily life of the village.

  ‘Good morning, ma’am,’ Thorn said to the next in line. ‘Where does it hurt?’

  ‘Ankles,’ grunted the older woman, sitting heavily into the wicker chair before the young hedgewitch, ‘and knees.’

  Thorn sighed inwardly, biting back the comments she wished to make. The woman in front of her was a regular visitor to the village healers, always complaining about some ache or other. She refused to change her lifestyle, while expecting the hedgewitches to heal her every time she turned up.

  ‘Don’t give me that look, young lady,’ the woman said.

  ‘What look?’ Thorn said. ‘I wasn’t giving you a look.’

  ‘Where’s your mother?’

  ‘Busy.’

  ‘And your sisters?’

  Thorn frowned.

  ‘Is Clove here?’ the woman went on. ‘Or Acorn? I never have any problems with them.’

  ‘I’m not causing any problems.’

  The woman glared. ‘Don’t talk back to your elders, girl.’

  Thorn folded her arms, her eyes tight.

  ‘What’s the delay?’ called out a voice from the queue behind the woman. ‘My teeth are killing me.’

  ‘Well?’ said the woman. ‘Are you going to get on with it or what?’

  Thorn said nothing. Why was she wasting her life healing these ungrateful idiots? The woman sitting before her would learn nothing, and would be back in a third or so for another touch from the hedgewitches to cure her self-inflicted ills.

  ‘Thorn?’ said a familiar voice. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Ah, Acorn,’ said the older woman, smiling. ‘At last. Your younger sister’s being difficult.’

  Acorn shot Thorn a glare and knelt by the woman.

  ‘Don’t you worry, ma’am,’ she said, reaching out with her hands and touching the woman’s legs. ‘There, that better?’

  The woman closed her eyes in silent joy, then nodded. ‘Yes, my dear. Thank you.’

  ‘No problem at all, ma’am,’ Acorn said, smiling, ‘happy to be of service.’

  The woman got to her feet, glanced sideways at Thorn, then turned and walked away. Acorn narrowed her eyes at her sister.

  ‘It’s not my fault,’ said Thorn. ‘She was the one being difficult, not me.’

  ‘It’s always the same with you; it’s always someone else’s fault.’

  Thorn glared at her sister. ‘You might be happy tending to these fools, with their stupid, petty complaints, but I’m sick of it.’

  ‘That’s enough,’ Acorn said, glancing over her shoulder at the restless queue. ‘Go take a break for ten minutes. I’ll cover for you. Get some fresh air and come back when you’ve calmed down.’

  Thorn watched as Acorn turned to face the queue, her expression changing as she beamed at the line of patients. ‘Alright, who’s next?’

  Thorn edged away, half-humiliated, half-delirious with joy that she was leaving the healing hall early. A few in the queue cast glances her way, but she didn’t care. She knew she was gaining a reputation as an unfriendly hedgewitch, surly to the villagers and local farmers that came to the hall each day. It didn’t matter. She was better than them.

  The hall had a back door, away from the assembled lines of patients. In the far corner sat the other hedgewitch on duty, the only healer in the village not part of Thorn’s family. She had her head down in concentration as she worked on the more serious illnesses and injuries – her status as the older mage on duty giving her the more interesting cases. As the youngest, Thorn inevitably got the minor complaints, no matter which other hedgewitch she was paired with. Another crass unfairness in her life.

  She reached the back door and stole through it, emerging into the street outside. Like all of the streets in the village, it was covered with a timber roof to keep the rain off. The slats would be removed in spring when the rainy season ended, but would remain in position all winter, dimming the natural light in the town to a soft green, mixed with dark shadows. Trees lined each street and path, and held up the roofs of many of the buildings. Smaller dwellings had been built within the branches of the sturdier trees, but most lived on the ground, in long wooden houses sealed tight from the unending rain. Drainage channels ran between most buildings, sending a constant flow of water through the settlement, and keeping the covered vegetable gardens irrigated. Thorn hitched up her long skirt to avoid the mud as she stepped over a channel onto the street.

  Workers were repairing a section of rotten roof slats, and some of the boys among them glanced over at Thorn as she walked up the middle of the street. She smiled. She was pretty, prettier than her two sisters, and she knew it. People were always commenting on her looks, but it didn’t matter. She could be the most beautiful woman in the world and she would still have to wait her turn for a man like everyone else. She would be thirty at least before being eligible to marry; hedgewitch or not, the rules were clear. The horrendous culling of the men of Sanang may have occurred seventeen years before, at round about the time Thorn was born, but its effects lingered throughout the forest nation.

  She turned right down another street and entered a low building, its wall-slats open to allow in the breeze. Inside, rows of women were sitting on benches, weaving chairs and baskets from wicker branches. There was a smell of keenweed in the air, and many of the women were smoking as they worked. Thorn walked over to the supervisor.

  ‘Good morning, ma’am.’

  ‘Good morning, Thorn. I thought you were healing today?’

  ‘Acorn’s taken over, ma’am. She sent me here to collect Bracken. She’s wanted at the healing hall. Her little brother’s had an accident and it looks like he’s g
oing to lose his leg.’

  The supervisor blinked, then turned to the rows of workers. Her eyes scanned over them, halting at a young woman, a keenweed stick hanging from her lips.

  ‘Bracken, come here, please.’

  The young woman glanced up, then saw Thorn. She got to her feet and walked over. The supervisor took her hand. ‘Best go straight to the healing hall, my girl. It’s your brother.’

  Bracken stared at her, her face paling.

  ‘Don’t you worry about work for the rest of the day,’ the supervisor said. ‘Good luck.’

  Thorn nodded at the supervisor, then led Bracken from the hall and back into the street.

  ‘Right,’ she said. ‘Shall we get drunk or high?’

  Bracken squinted at her. ‘But…’

  Thorn laughed. ‘Your brother’s fine. I just made that up to get you out of work. Tomorrow you can tell them all it was a terrible mix-up.’

  Bracken looked confused for a second, then angry, before she burst out laughing. ‘You twisted bitch,’ she said. ‘How about drunk and high?’

  ‘They don’t understand what it’s like,’ Thorn said, smoking a stick of dreamweed, ‘none of them do.’

  ‘They’re all too ancient,’ Bracken said. ‘Dried-up old hags.’

  Thorn gazed down at the village from the platform where they sat, high in the trees. A canopy covered it to keep the rain off, and a long rope ladder hung down from a hatch in the centre. Thick, black clouds filled the sky, rolling in from the west, where the great, unending ocean lay. Each day, they dropped their burden of water along the western Sanang coast, battering the cliffs and making the streams and rivers swell.

  ‘I hate it here; I hate the rain.’

  ‘Me too.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Thorn, ‘but it’s all you’ve ever known, isn’t it? I mean, you’ve never travelled far from the village, not like I have. When I lived in Broadwater, the rainy season was much shorter, and it only rained each day for a couple of hours, not night and day like it does here. At the Matriarch’s court, everyone always looked smart, and we always got to wear these amazing dresses, with some of the material coming all the way from the empire. Not like here, where people think grimy old rags are fashionable.’ She paused to take a draw of dreamweed. ‘But what I hate the most, is that nothing ever happens here. It’s so boring.’