The carriage turned left off the main road, and entered the aristocratic district. Unlike in Holdings City, where each noble family occupied individual villas and mansions, in Plateau City the king had built neat rows of terraced stone townhouses, five or six storeys tall. Graceful iron lamps were lit along each street, and small gardens of flowers bloomed.
They came to a road which backed up against the sea wall, where the townhouses appeared to be bigger and grander than the others.
‘The best street in the city,’ her father said as they stopped.
‘Right next to the wall?’ Daphne asked, a servant helping her down from the carriage. ‘Do the rooms not get very dark in the evenings?’
‘You’ll see,’ her father said.
Bedig also dismounted, and they stood and waited as the cavalry troopers saluted, about-turned and trotted off back to the Old Town.
‘Be honest, father,’ she said, when the horses were out of sight, ‘did you plan all that?’
‘Of course not Daffie,’ he laughed. ‘You still arouse strong emotions in sections of the citizenry and military. I’m only glad your first experience of this was a positive one.’
‘It seems,’ she said, ‘that the story of what happened that night has grown into a legend. All I did was let the garrison know.’
‘But Daffie,’ he said, ‘if you hadn’t, the coup might have succeeded. You should give yourself some credit.’
They went up a set of broad stone steps to a large front door, which was opened by a servant.
‘Holder Fast,’ she said, ‘and Miss Daphne, welcome back.’
The servant half-raised her arm, as if to block the Kellach from approaching.
‘To be treated as a friend of the family, and a guest,’ her father said before the servant could speak. She nodded, and they went indoors.
‘Our new house covers six floors,’ her father said, as they went through into the entrance hall. Boxes and crates were piled high against every wall, and there was very little furniture in the rooms they passed. ‘It’s a narrow apartment, but high and deep. Your quarters will be on the third floor. I’ll find a room for Bedig close to yours.’ He glanced at her sideways.
‘That would be fine,’ she said.
They went up a flight of wide, graceful stairs and stopped before a set of double doors.
‘The dining room,’ her father said. ‘I assume you are hungry.’
She wasn’t, but nodded. Her nausea was being held at bay, but she knew the effects of the weed she had smoked would be wearing off soon.
Her father swung the doors open, and Daphne gasped.
Inside, most of her family were waiting, already sitting at the table.
‘Daphne!’ her sister Ariel cried, and rose to her feet, a baby in her arms. To her right, her husband Faden Holdwick also stood, nodding, a forced smile almost touching his dour expression. On the other side of the table her eldest brother Vince’s face broke out into a huge grin. To his left sat a very pretty young woman, who gave Daphne a cautious smile.
Daphne hugged Ariel.
‘And who’s this?’ Daphne said. ‘You had another child? I didn’t know.’
‘This is Lydia,’ Ariel said. ‘She’s just turned six thirds.’
‘She’s beautiful.’
Daphne turned to her brother before Ariel could offer her a chance to hold the baby.
She and Vince embraced, and he kissed her on the cheek.
‘Little sister, good to see you,’ he said. He gestured to the young woman next to him. ‘This is Celine, my wife.’
‘You got married?’
‘At about the same time Lydia was born,’ Vince said. ‘Anyway, that was your sister’s excuse for not coming down to Plateau City for the wedding!’
‘The baby was literally one day old, Daphne,’ Ariel said, rolling her eyes.
Daphne laughed. ‘Hello Celine.’
She caught her father’s eye. ‘Mother?’
‘I’m afraid not, Daffie,’ he said. ‘She was feeling poorly, and it’s a long journey. Your brother Jonah elected to stay behind at the estate, to look after her, while Ariel, Faden, baby Lydia and I made the trip down from Holdings City.’
‘I left Teddy up there with Jonah and mother,’ Ariel said. ‘School term has started, and I didn’t want him taken out for several thirds. I’m sure you understand.’
‘Of course Ariel, that’s fine.’
‘Come then, sit,’ her father said. ‘Everyone, this here is Bedig, a friend of Daphne’s.’ He gestured over to the Kellach, who had been skulking at the back of the room.
‘He doesn’t speak Holdings yet,’ Daphne said, as Bedig waved at them.
‘How do you two talk, then?’ Vince asked. ‘Don’t tell me you know the Kellach tongue?’
‘No,’ she replied, as she took her seat, ‘but we can both speak Rahain.’
‘Sit next to me,’ Daphne said to Bedig. ‘And sorry we’re all speaking in a language you don’t know, but none of them understand Rahain.’
‘That’s not entirely true,’ Celine said, also in Rahain. ‘I had to learn it for my job in the crown offices.’
‘By the creator,’ Vince said in Holdings. ‘My wife and sister can talk to each other in a secret tongue I don’t understand. I’m doomed.’
Celine laughed. ‘I can see how it might come in useful.’
Servants entered, carrying plates of hot food.
‘Might I say, Miss Daphne,’ said Faden Holdwick, ‘how marvellous it is to see you returned. Tales of your exploits have been keeping the lower orders amused for quite some time now. It will be interesting to compare rumour with the reality.’
‘I’m sure everything has been much exaggerated,’ Daphne said, as a plate of food was placed before her. She felt a queasy stirring in her stomach, and breathed out.
‘Are you all right?’ Ariel asked.
‘Yes, I’m fine,’ she said, ‘just maybe not all that hungry. I was a little sea-sick on the voyage to be honest. It may take a day or two to get used to solid ground again.’
‘Perfectly understandable,’ her father said. ‘So, will you tell us a tale of what you did on your travels?’
‘It was a lot of work, really,’ Daphne said. ‘For a merchant at first, then for the embassy in the Rahain capital. And lastly a little job for the church.’
‘You call rescuing a princess from a burning city a “little job”?’ Vince said, starting to laugh.
Daphne frowned. ‘Is what I did public knowledge?’
‘My dearest Daffie,’ her father said, ‘the church has been trumpeting the success of your rescue mission all over the Holdings. That, and the fact you have reconciled with the prophet.’
‘I have?’ she said. ‘News to me.’
Her father raised an eyebrow.
‘As far as I’m concerned,’ she said, ‘the extent of our reconciliation was that the church agreed not to have me killed when I returned.’
‘Are you not working for them now?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘In fact, the priest that offered me the job in Rahain told me explicitly that I’d be able to choose if I wanted to work for the church when I got back. The job was a one-off, in exchange for allowing me to return home.’
Her father smiled, and Faden let out an audible sigh.
‘I cannot tell you how relieved that makes me,’ her father said. ‘The church twists everything. They’re saying that you, the Rakanese mage, and that Rahain politician you brought here, are all going to be part of the creator’s grand plan, to unite the peoples of the world, you know, and all the rest of that nonsense they spout.’
‘Father,’ Ariel said, ‘you promised we wouldn’t talk politics this evening, just for once.’
‘Yes, dear,’ her father said, sharing a glance across the table with Faden.
The room fell silent for a moment.
‘I do actually have some other news,’ Daphne said, regretting the words as soon as they had left her mouth. Fear gripp
ed her stomach, the nausea building.
She had to tell them, before her sickness returned and they all guessed.
She glanced up. Everyone was gazing at her, waiting.
‘I met someone,’ she said, ‘while I was in Rahain.’
Her family’s eyes turned to Bedig, and Ariel opened her mouth to speak.
‘No,’ Daphne said. ‘Not him. He really is just a friend. The man I met is a Kellach though, like Bedig.’
‘Are you in love with him?’ Ariel said.
‘Yes.’
‘Why is he not here?’
‘I’ll get to that,’ Daphne said. ‘Anyway, so, I met him, Killop is his name. He was a prisoner in a Rahain jail, and I had a hand in helping him escape, and…’
‘Daphne Holdfast,’ Ariel cried. ‘Are you pregnant?’
‘Yes.’
Her family stared at her, while Celine smiled and Faden shook his head.
‘Guess you just told them, then?’ Bedig whispered in Rahain.
‘She sure did,’ said Celine in the same tongue. ‘Oh, this is going to be fun.’
Chapter 8
Judgement
Mountains south-east of Rahain Capital, Rahain Republic – 15th Day, Second Third Summer 505
‘I’m a woman who loves you,’ Daphne had once said, when Killop had asked her who she was.
He remembered holding her in his arms, as they had lain on the rough mattress in his cell. They had known only a few moments together, but they were the most precious of his life.
He loved her, as if his mind couldn’t accept the fact of her death. He would always love her.
Everything else was a distraction.
‘You ready?’ Bridget said, the rushing stream having drowned out the sound of her approach.
‘Is it time?’
‘You’ve got a couple of minutes,’ she said, sitting down next to him on the sandy bank, the tree branches shielding them from the bright sunshine. ‘Everyone’s starting to gather.’
‘All come to enjoy the show,’ he muttered. ‘Hoping to see some blood.’
‘Most are praying that you win, Killop,’ she said. ‘Braug would make a shit chief, and they all know it.’
‘Then why did they vote for the challenge to go ahead?’ Killop said. ‘No wonder the other peoples think we’re savages, when we choose our leaders by seeing who can punch the hardest. Does the thug with the biggest fists always make the best chief? Stupid.’
‘Folk just want an end to the bickering,’ she said. ‘Braug and his crew have been causing problems ever since we rescued them. By refusing their challenges, you were running the risk of looking weak.’
‘After what I’ve achieved this last third?’ he frowned. ‘How could anyone think that?’
‘No one who knows you does,’ she said, ‘but Braug and his crew were only freed during the last raid. The original folk we rescued have seen you lead from the beginning, and every one of them is behind you. It’s the newer recruits that are getting uppity. It would have been a lot easier if we’d assimilated smaller groups, but we’ve gone from twenty folk to a hundred and forty in a third.’
‘This bullshit challenge is just wasting time,’ Killop said, standing and brushing the sand and dirt from his clothes. ‘So long as it doesn’t interfere with the raid tonight.’
‘It won’t if you win,’ she said, getting to her feet.
They climbed up the steep hillside to the tunnels of their camp.
Killop nodded to the young guard posted by the entrance and went in, followed by Bridget.
Inside, the main cavern was almost full. Kellach Brigdomin crowded round the walls, leaving an open space in the centre. Killop walked to one side, and every eye turned to watch him, some silenced by his presence, others cheering or jeering.
‘Chief,’ Dominic said, as Killop stepped among his officers.
Killop nodded, then pulled off his tunic, leaving his upper half naked. He held out his hands, and Draewyn started wrapping clean strips of rags round his fists. He focussed on a drab bit of wall ahead, and ignored the growing buzz of noise. The warmth inside the cavern was stifling. Usually at noon they retreated to the inner caves where it was cooler, but the entrance hall was the only space large enough to hold all of the freed captives.
‘Remember, Chief,’ Brodie said, leaning on his crutch, ‘Braug’s a sly old bastard, I knew of him back in the war. Fights dirty.’
‘Of course he does,’ Larissa said. ‘He’s Brig.’
Draewyn finished binding his fists and looked him in the eye.
‘You’d better not lose, son,’ she said. ‘I couldnae bear that arsehole as chief.’
Brodie pushed a mug of ale into his hands.
Killop took a swig. ‘Getting better. Can hardly taste the pork.’
‘I’ve got several kegs ready to open after you beat him,’ Brodie said.
Bridget barged her way to the centre of the room, carrying a long staff.
She banged it down onto the ground, and the room stilled.
‘We have gathered,’ Bridget called out, ‘because the clan have voted to allow a challenge to the chief.’
‘About time!’ a warrior cried, and a group started laughing. In their midst, Killop could see his opponent, standing next to the man who had called out. Braug was a lean, wiry man, his muscles like knots across his scarred arms and torso. A moustache perched above a set of prominent teeth, and his eyes were cunning and hard.
‘Interrupt me again ya wee bawbag,’ Bridget said to the man who had shouted, ‘and I’ll ram this staff down yer fucking throat.’
‘Show the girl some respect,’ Braug said. ‘She won’t be herald for much longer.’
‘Aye,’ Bridget replied, ‘but I’m the herald now, so shut it ya buck-toothed prick.’
Many in the crowd laughed, while Braug stared at Bridget with murder in his eyes.
‘Let’s get this over with,’ she said. ‘Braug ae Brennan ae Brig has challenged Killop ae Kellan ae Kell for the chiefdom of the clan, and his challenge has been accepted by the clan. Both of you, step forward.’
Killop strode to the edge of the open space, Larissa and Dominic by his shoulders. On the opposite side, Braug also emerged from the crowd.
‘You all know the rules,’ Bridget said, walking back to the edge of the crowd. ‘Off you go then.’
‘So, boy,’ Braug called out, ‘you finally got forced into fighting me? Couldn’t hide forever. It’s time to let the grown-ups be in charge.’
Killop watched as Braug approached.
He tried to concentrate, rolling his shoulders, and clenching his fists, when Braug sprang forward towards him. The Brig raised his foot and kicked Killop in the crotch.
Killop let out a gasp, his hands going for his nethers, and Braug punched him square in the face. He went down to one knee, and Braug punched him again, sending him flying backwards onto the cavern floor.
Through the ringing in his ears, Killop could hear the crowd roaring. He looked up, to see Braug’s boot flying towards his face.
He rolled away and scrambled to his feet, spitting blood onto the ground. The noise from the crowd grew.
A look of surprise crossed Braug’s faced for a moment, then he smiled.
They circled each other for a few turns round the open space, while the Kellach cheered and shouted.
Killop rushed him. Braug raised his fist and struck him a stinging blow to the side of his face, but he kept going, bringing his left arm up and over the Brig’s shoulder, and hauling him off his feet into an head-lock. Braug squirmed, lashing out with his hands, and beating and scratching Killop’s back.
With the Brig’s head held firmly in his left arm, Killop drew back his right fist and buried it in Braug’s face. Again, and again he punched, until he felt Braug’s body go limp.
Killop dropped the Brig to the ground, and stood alone in the centre of the cavern, the crowd around him howling in bloodlust.
Bridget approached, and banged her staf
f.
Before she could speak, Killop pointed at the group who had been with Braug.
‘Any more?’ he roared.
The cavern fell into silence, Braug’s old crew lowering their heads.
‘Killop ae Kellan ae Kell is the chief!’ Bridget called out. ‘The challenger has been defeated.’
The crowd let out a cheer, and people started moving into the central space, some to congratulate Killop, others to remove Braug’s unconscious body, while most headed for Brodie, who was passing out the ale.
‘Not what I would call elegant,’ Bridget said, ‘but it got the job done.’
‘A victory of brute strength over skill and speed,’ Larissa said. ‘Chief.’
‘I thought he had ye, son,’ Draewyn said, ‘when you were flat on yer arse.’
‘He nearly did,’ Killop said, pulling the bloody bindings from his fists.
Bridget raised a hand to his face.
‘That’s some mark he gave you.’
‘He was wearing rings, I think.’
Her finger traced the wound on his cheek.
‘That’ll need stitching,’ Draewyn said. ‘At least you got yourself a scar.’
He scowled, but that made the pain worse.
‘Wee bastard,’ he said.
‘Well done, Chief,’ Dominic said, ‘that should shut up the whingers. Are we all set for this evening?’
‘Aye,’ Killop said, pulling on his tunic. ‘Make sure the warriors are ready to leave at sunset.’ He turned to Draewyn, who was threading a needle.
‘How are the preparations for moving the camp out?’
‘We could be ready to go in a day if need be,’ she replied. ‘What are you going to do with all the captives you free from tonight’s raid? The caverns are full; we can’t fit any more in.’
‘We’ll manage,’ he said. ‘It won’t be for long. The scouts will return soon, and we’ll all move out to somewhere bigger.’
‘Well,’ she said, wielding the needle, ‘you’re the chief, and you’ve the scar to prove it. Now come with me son, and I’ll see to your face.’
The Severed City Page 10
