The Severed City

by Christopher Mitchell

  They grunted, and one heaved open the heavy wooden door, releasing the sounds of drinking and singing from within, along with a thick waft of smoke.

  Keira entered. The place was heaving with clansfolk, crammed into every space in the long hall. There was a bar running along one wall, and tables and booths lined the others. Lamps were suspended from chains attached to the ceiling, providing a low golden light. A dense cloud of smoke hung in the air, and she felt light-headed inhaling the fumes. The noise from the mass of folk was almost deafening.

  She kept her hood up, and made her way through the crowd to the bar. She pushed to the front, and tried to catch the eye of a bartender, as they poured and served drinks.

  ‘Fucksake,’ she muttered, as an older man to her left got served before her. In the crowded press at the bar she felt her arse get groped.

  She looked around, and saw the older man leering at her.

  ‘Was that you, ya wee prick?’ she said.

  He laughed, and turned, picking up his large mug of ale.

  Keira head-butted him, cracking his nose, a flow of blood spilling down his chin. She grabbed his ale as he lifted his hands to his face.

  ‘Thanks for the drink,’ she said, and pushed her way back from the bar.

  She strode through the crowds to the nearest booths, and saw a small space at the edge of a bench, where five people sat round a table.

  ‘You look sort of normal,’ she said, sitting down. They glanced up from their drinks at her, four men and a woman, their conversation paused.

  ‘Don’t mind me,’ Keira said. ‘I’m new. Carry on.’

  The five turned back towards each other.

  ‘Anyway,’ one said, ‘what I was just saying, the tunnel story is pure bullshit. No one can dig a tunnel through an entire mountain range. The Rahain just keep telling us this so we stay in line, scared that a fucking army’s going to march up the road.’

  ‘They want to clear the camp,’ the woman said. ‘That’s their end game. Make us all move up to the new Holdings City on the other side of the sea.’

  ‘No,’ another said, ‘they need us here to do all the dirty work. We’re free labour, and they figure that as long as they keep us doped up we won’t cause them any bother.’

  Keira coughed.

  ‘The tunnel is true, by the way,’ she said, as they turned to look at her. ‘I’ve just come from there, and seen it with my own eyes.’

  ‘Fucking told you,’ the woman said to the first man.

  ‘They’re working on the last bit now,’ Keira said. ‘Be done in a few thirds.’

  ‘But how…?’ the first man said.

  ‘Their mages turn the mountainside into rubble, and thousands of our folk cart it away for them.’

  ‘The Kellach slaves in Rahain,’ one muttered, ‘some are still alive, then?’

  ‘There’s fucking plenty of clansfolk in Rahain,’ Keira said. ‘I was in their capital, saw a lot of slaves.’

  ‘Who are you?’ the woman asked.

  ‘Keilyn.’

  ‘And how the fuck did you get out of Rahain?’

  ‘Escaped,’ she said, drinking her ale. ‘Took me a couple of thirds to get here.’

  ‘Do you know anything,’ one of the men asked, ‘about Keira the fire mage? We heard she’d been captured, and was in Rahain.’

  Keira swallowed. ‘No.’

  The woman leaned over the table to her. ‘Do you know what she did?’

  ‘No,’ Keira whispered.

  ‘She helped the lizards kill the Rakanese refugees,’ she said. ‘Murdered half a million of them, burned the entire city in an inferno.’

  The woman sat back, shaking her head.

  ‘Shit,’ said Keira. ‘That’s bad.’

  ‘She has shamed us.’

  ‘She was our hope.’

  The table stilled into silence, while the raucous noise of the hall echoed around them.

  ‘So,’ Keira said. ‘What’s Rainsby like?’

  The woman raised an eyebrow. ‘A shithole,’ she said, ‘on a good day.’

  ‘I don’t get it though,’ Keira said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘The lizards invaded us, right?’ she said. ‘They were at war with us, and thousands are enslaved in Rahain.’

  ‘Aye, so?’

  ‘Well,’ Keira went on, ‘isn’t this part of Rahain? Why are we left alone here? Why haven’t they enslaved everyone?’

  ‘The government in Rahain don’t rule here,’ the first man said. ‘Haven’t done in decades, apparently. The mob that runs Rainsby make up their own rules, and there’s nothing the garrison can do about it.’

  ‘There’s a Rahain garrison here?’

  ‘Oh aye,’ he said, ‘a thousand of them. The alliance of crooked merchants and gang bosses that rule can muster five times that number in their own town militia. The proper soldiers just stay in their barracks all day, leave the militia to it.’

  ‘The town decided,’ the woman said, ‘that there were too many of us to kill or enslave, so they set up this camp, and have us carry out all of the crap jobs that need done, in return for food, drink and Sanang weed.’

  ‘Talking about food,’ Keira said, ‘I’m fucking starving. Where can I…?’

  ‘There she is!’ shouted someone.

  She looked up. The man she had head-butted was walking towards the table, at least a dozen large men behind him. The front of his tunic was covered in blood, and both of his eyes were puffed and swollen.

  ‘That’s the bitch who hit me,’ he said, pointing.

  Before any of his thugs could react, Keira leapt to her feet and punched the man in the throat, then kneed him in the face as he fell. He span backwards, his head cracking off the side of a booth as he landed, his neck at an angle. The men he had brought gazed at his prone body for a moment, then charged at Keira, swinging clubs.

  The area where they stood erupted into violence, as the men threw aside anyone in their way to get to Keira. She struck one in the face, but others lunged at her. One of them leapt over a table and onto her, and they fell to the ground. One grabbed her leg. She kicked out with the other, making contact. Hands reached for her face, and she bit a chunk out of a finger.

  ‘Hold her down!’ one of the men shouted.

  A fist struck her cheek, as she struggled and writhed against the hands of the men.

  ‘Get the fuck off me,’ she spat, as a kick landed against her stomach. As she gasped, her eyes scanned round the hall, looking for a naked flame.

  A man stared down at her.

  ‘Do you know who the fuck you just killed, bitch?’

  His expression changed, and his mouth opened, as a blade passed through his chest from behind.

  Someone screamed.

  Keira looked up as the men around her loosened their grip. She tore herself free, and lashed out at them, punching one in the eye.

  An arm reached for her. She drew back her fist to strike, but saw who it was.

  Kylon.

  ‘What fucking took ye?’ she grinned. ‘I was about to burn the place to the ground.’

  Kylon shook her shoulder.

  ‘Come on,’ he said, ‘we’ve got shit to do.’

  Keira grunted from the bed next to him, her eyes closed.

  ‘Fuck me sideways,’ she said, stretching out as the dawn sunlight spilled into the dark room through the cracks in the shutters. ‘You’re still the best ride I’ve ever had.’

  She sat up.

  ‘Where are my clothes?’

  ‘Those rags?’

  ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I never had a chance to order up a fancy frock before I got into a bar fight.’ She gazed around the small room. ‘How come you’ve got a fucking palace, when everyone else in the camp’s sleeping in the mud?’

  ‘Money.’

  She leaned up on an elbow and watched him as he stood and got dressed.

  ‘And it’s three rooms,’ he said, pulling a tunic down over his chest. ‘Hardly a palace.’
/>
  ‘What do you need three rooms for?’ she said. ‘Thought you were staying here by yourself.’

  ‘Leah stays here too.’

  ‘You fucking what?’ she said. ‘You fucking slag, you been shagging that cow?’

  He thumbed towards the door. ‘She sleeps in that room.’

  ‘So yer saying ye haven’t fucked her?’

  ‘Her,’ he said, frowning, ‘or anyone else.’

  ‘You’ve kept it in yer pants the whole time?’

  He nodded and sat on the bed, reaching for his boots.

  ‘Just as well,’ she said. ‘So, what’s the fucking plan?’

  ‘We get out of Rainsby.’

  ‘I just got here.’

  ‘That Domm you killed,’ he said, ‘was the brother of a camp boss. He’ll be after you. And me.’

  ‘Fair enough. So where’s the rest of the squad I gave you? Can’t be only Leah left.’

  ‘Baoryn’s got a room in the town,’ Kylon said, ‘and Bedig went to Plateau City. But apart from that, the rest are dead.’

  Her heart jumped. ‘Not Kalayne? Don’t tell me that old bastard’s dead.’

  Kylon shrugged. He stood up and went to a trunk. He knelt and started raking about in it for clothes.

  ‘Well?’ she said.

  ‘I don’t know about Kalayne,’ he said. ‘He didn’t come with us to the Rakanese camp. He took the road north when we got to the Plateau after leaving Kell.’

  He threw her a pile of clothes. ‘I thought he might be in Rainsby,’ he said. ‘Part of the reason why I’m here. The main reason though, is that I heard a rumour you’d escaped, and guessed you’d come this way.’

  She squinted at him. ‘How did you know I’d be in that tavern?’

  ‘The “Lost And Found”?’ He shrugged. ‘It’s the first place new people see when they come out of the processing centre. I’ve been in there every evening to take a look.’

  ‘Where are we going then?’ she said. ‘Killop’s alive, I saw him in prison in Rahain.’

  ‘He escaped.’

  ‘How the fuck do you know that?’

  ‘I met him.’

  ‘Where is he?’

  ‘In the Rahain mountains,’ Kylon said, ‘leading the Kellach uprising.’

  He opened the shutters, sending in a flood of bright sunlight. Squinting out from the bed, Keira could see a deep blue cloudless sky and, below the horizon, the greatest expanse of water she had ever witnessed.

  She stood, slipping on the leggings and tunic he had given her.

  ‘Fuck,’ she gasped.

  ‘The Inner Sea.’

  ‘No shit.’

  She stood next to him by the open window, the clean and sharp sea breeze blowing through her brown hair.

  ‘So,’ she said, ‘are we going to find my wee brother?’

  ‘No,’ Kylon said. ‘It would endanger his mission. Every soldier in Rahain is looking for you.’

  ‘What can I say?’ she smirked. ‘I’m a popular fucking woman.’

  He frowned again.

  ‘Kylon?’ she said.

  He turned to face her.

  ‘Are you not going to ask me about, you know?’

  ‘The Rakanese camp?’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘No, Keira, I’m not.’

  She took a breath.

  ‘Do you know what I did?’

  ‘I was there.’

  ‘And it doesn’t bother you?’

  Kylon turned away, and stared out of the window, his eyes sharp and full of pain.

  She touched his arm.

  ‘I love you, Keira,’ he said. ‘No matter what.’

  She smiled.

  ‘Good.’

  Keira spat on the ground.

  ‘Ye want me to get in that?’ she said. ‘Are ye out of yer fucking mind?’

  ‘We don’t have time for this,’ Kylon said.

  Leah shook her head, and glanced at Baoryn. The renegade Rahain’s face remained expressionless, but his tongue flickered.

  Large white birds circled overhead, shrieking their harsh cries, as they stood on the long, crowded dockside. Rahain workers and sailors milled around, interspersed with militia, and a few merchants. The ship Kylon had pointed at lay alongside, tied fore and aft with thick coils of rope, its three sets of sails half-raised.

  ‘I’m not getting on a boat,’ Keira said, folding her arms.

  A dark-skinned man walked past, and she turned her head to stare.

  ‘Did you see that?’ she said.

  ‘It’s just a man from the Holdings,’ Leah sighed. ‘Fucksake, Keira.’

  ‘We’ll see a lot more of them where we’re going,’ Kylon said.

  ‘But I want to go back to Kell.’

  Leah’s face went red. ‘We can’t fucking go back,’ she cried. ‘Because of you, because of what you did. Word is spreading everywhere about you, do you think the folks back in Kellach Brigdomin won’t hear about it?’

  Keira turned to face the blonde warrior, clenching her fists.

  ‘The camp next to Plateau City is our safest bet,’ said Kylon. ‘We can disappear there.’

  ‘Is it a shithole like the camp here?’

  ‘I’ve never been,’ he said, ‘but I’ve heard it’s a lot bigger, and easier to get lost in.’

  ‘Someone will recognise me.’

  ‘We’ll colour your hair on the boat,’ he said, ‘and get you a new name.’

  ‘I already have one,’ she said. She pulled her Rainsby registration card from a pocket and handed it to him.

  ‘Okay, Keilyn from Armdale,’ he said, ‘will you get on the boat now?’

  Keira turned to look at the giant ship. She knew that Kylon had handed over a fortune in coins to bribe their way through to the docks, and to secure passage to Plateau City. But the thought of nothing but a plank of wood between her and the deep watery abyss terrified her.

  ‘Not feart, are ye?’ Leah said.

  ‘Of course I’m not, ya cheeky cow,’ Keira scowled. She put a foot onto the gangplank, and swallowed. ‘What are ye all waiting for? Come on, let’s go to Plateau fucking City.’

  She half-closed her eyes, and walked up the gangplank to the side of the ship. A Rahain sailor stood there, holding his arm out to assist her.

  She ignored him, and stepped on to the deck, feeling the gentle sway under her feet.

  A Rahain in uniform approached.

  ‘Good morning ma’am,’ he said. ‘I’m the captain.’

  ‘I have the tickets,’ Kylon said, appearing on the deck beside her. He passed a bundle of papers to the captain. Tied to the ribbon around the middle was a small pouch.

  The captain slipped the pouch into a pocket and opened the documents.

  ‘Very good,’ he said, scanning them. He beckoned to a young lad in sailor’s uniform. ‘Boy, take these passengers to the aft cabin on deck two.’

  They followed the boy across the busy deck. Crates and sacks were being hoisted up and over their heads on pulleys, and sailors were scampering about on the rigging, preparing the sails for departure. Keira took a deep breath, the fresh sea air filling her lungs, and the warm wind blowing through her hair.

  ‘I might get to like this,’ she said.

  Keira groaned, and threw up into their cabin’s slop bucket for the fourth time that night. The wooden floor rolled under her knees, the motion never ceasing. She leaned her head forward, Kylon holding her hair in the dim candlelight.

  ‘Keep the noise down,’ Leah muttered from her bunk. ‘I’m trying to fucking sleep.’

  Keira made an obscene gesture in her direction, and closed her eyes, her guts churning.

  ‘I’m never getting on a fucking boat again.’

  Chapter 11

  The Court of King Guilliam III

  Plateau City, The Plateau – 5th Day, Last Third Summer 505

  Daphne winced as she stretched out her crippled left arm.

  Since arriving in the city, it had ached a little each morni
ng, though she didn’t know if it was the pregnancy or the humidity that was causing it. She had taken to going out onto the balcony when it got light, to savour the chill dawn air, and so she could gaze out over the endless waters of the Inner Sea.

  The townhouses along their side of the street were backed up against the enormous new sea wall, and spaces had been left open between the wide stones, ending in a series of balconies that hung over the rocks where the sea crashed into the shore. The balconies were busy each evening, crowded with the nobility watching the sunset, but they were quieter in the mornings, when the deep shadows created by the wall cast them into gloom, until the sun rose to its noon peak.

  That morning, with a cold breeze cutting through her clothes, the other balconies were empty, and she had peace to apply ointment to her arm, a salve bought by her father from the city’s finest apothecary.

  She clenched and unclenched her left fist, her knuckles stiff and sore, her withered fingers curled tight. Once the ointment had been rubbed into her dark skin, she unwrapped a fresh bandage and wrapped it carefully round her arm, using a pin to secure each end.

  She reached over to the small table next to her, and picked up the arm-guard that had been made for her in Rahain by a stone mage, who had curved thin pieces of compressed granite into armour, held in place by a fine latticework of polished and etched steel.

  ‘Let me help you with that, Daffie,’ her father said.

  She turned her head as he put a tray down onto the table.

  ‘I didn’t hear you come outside,’ she said.

  ‘The noise of the sea drowns out most things,’ he said, taking the arm-guard from her. He positioned it over her out-stretched limb, and fastened the buckles at shoulder, elbow and wrist.

  ‘A fine piece of armour,’ he said.

  ‘Given to me by Lady Douanna.’

  ‘Ahh,’ he replied. ‘She was the one you were working for, if I recall correctly. The woman who betrayed Killop, when she discovered he was the fire mage’s brother?’

  ‘That’s the one,’ she said. ‘I meant to pay her back before I left, but there was always something more important needing done.’

  Her father finished securing the armour and sat. He reached over to the tray, and began to pour tea.