The Mortal Blade
Christopher Mitchell is the author of the epic fantasy series The Magelands. He studied in Edinburgh before living for several years in the Middle East and Greece, where he taught English. He returned to study classics and Greek tragedy and lives in Fife, Scotland with his wife and their four children.
By Christopher Mitchell
The Magelands Origins
Retreat of the Kell
The Trials of Daphne Holdfast
From the Ashes
The Magelands Epic
The Queen’s Executioner
The Severed City
Needs of the Empire
Sacrifice
Fragile Empire
Storm Mage
Soulwitch Rises
Renegade Gods
The Magelands Eternal Siege
The Mortal Blade
The Dragon’s Blade
The Prince’s Blade
Copyright © Christopher Mitchell 2020
Cover by Miblart
Map by Doug at Fantasy Map Symbols
Cover Copyright © Brigdomin Books Ltd 2020
Christopher Mitchell asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
All the characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems (except for the use of brief quotations in a book review), if you would like permission to use material from the book please contact [email protected]
Brigdomin Books Ltd
First Edition, August 2020
Ebook Edition © August 2020
ISBN 978-1-912879-39-7
For the Film Club
Acknowledgements
I would like to thank the following for all their support during the writing of the Magelands Eternal Siege - my wife, Lisa Mitchell, who read every chapter as soon as it was drafted and kept me going in the right direction; my parents for their unstinting support; Vicky Williams for reading the books in their early stages; James Aitken for his encouragement; and Grant and Gordon of the Film Club for their support.
Thanks also to my Advance Reader team, for all your help during the last few weeks before publication.
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Dramatis Personae
The Royal Family – Gods and God-Children
God-King Malik, Sovereign of the City; Ooste
God-Queen Amalia, Sovereign of the City; Tara
Princess Khora, Guardian of the City; Pella
Prince Montieth, Recluse; Dalrig
The Royal Family – Demigods
Aila, Adjutant of the Circuit
Naxor, Emissary of the Gods
Marcus, Commander of the Bulwark
Kano, Adjutant of the Bulwark
Ikara, Governor of the Circuit
Lydia, Governor of Port Sanders
Doria, Courtier to the God-King
Vana, Advisor to Princess Khora
Collo, Advisor to Princess Khora
The Mortals of the City
Rosers (Tara)
Daniel Aurelian, Young Militia Officer
Todd, Young Militia Officer
Gaimer, Young Militia Officer
Lord Chamberlain, Advisor to the God-Queen
Clarine, Suitor
Millicent, Suitor
Emily, Suitor
Conrad, Young Militia Officer
Monterey, Sergeant in Militia
Hayden, Sergeant in Militia
Hallern, Captain in Militia
Nadhew, Taran Lawyer
Evaders (The Circuit)
Olvin, Gang Boss
Bekker, Gang Member
Medhi, Gang Member
Nareen, Co-owner of Blind Poet
Dorvid, Co-owner of Blind Poet
Bekha, Rebel
Martha, Servant of Lady Aila
Tobias, Servant of Lady Aila
Joylen, Gambling Boss
Letwyn, Chef
Blades (The Bulwark)
Maddie Jackdaw, Young Private
Rosie, Maddie’s Younger Sister
Tom, Maddie’s Older Brother
Hilde, Blade Captain
Quill, Wolfpack Corporal
The Outsiders
Corthie Holdfast, Champion of the Bulwark
Tanner, Wolfpack Soldier
Buckler, Champion of the Bulwark
Blackrose, Prisoner
For printable maps, please visit:
www.christophermitchellbooks.com/printable-maps-eternal-siege
Please note - this book was written in British-English
Reference material on the Gods and the City can be found at the end of the book.
Contents
1. A Night on the Town
2. Arrival
3. The Old Lady of Arrowhead
4. Graduation Day
5. Adjutant of the Circuit
6. First Day on the Job
7. Sincerely
8. Conrad’s Birthday
9. Illicit Cargo
10. The Grand Tour
11. Dragon Claws
12. The Leopard and the Honeybee
13. Unmasked
14. The Best Day of the Summer
15. Healing
16. Acceptance
17. The Boy in the Pool
18. A Quiet Drink
19. The Harbinger
20. Introductions
21. The Trail of Crumbs
22. Wrong for Each Other
23. The Elusive Truth
24. Exchange
25. The Fog of Balian
26. Change of Plan
27. The Dragon Port
28. Prince of Tara
29. Insider Knowledge
30. Broken Promise
Author’s Notes
The Magelands Series
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Chapter 1
A Night on the Town
The Circuit, Medio, The City – 2nd Mikalis 3419
Aila crept along the dark alleyway, keeping to the thick shadows. She paused at the entrance to a larger street and saw the tall building ahead of her. Two guards were standing outside the front door, their long iron-clad clubs swinging in the dim lamplight.
Aila concentrated. She knew one member of the gang and conjured an image of his face in her mind.
You see me as Old Jon.
She stepped out from the shadows, keeping her head high as she strode across the cobbles.
One of the guards glanced at her. ‘Evening, Jon.’
She nodded, and walked past them right to the door, her heart pounding. She turned the handle and pushed it open, then entered and closed it behind her. She glanced around. The hallway was empty, but noise was coming from the rooms on either side.
She pictured one of the guards she had passed.
You see me as the guard from the door.
A staircase was at the end of the hallway, and she stole towards it, keeping her tread light on the floorboard
s.
‘Bekker,’ said a voice behind her.
She kept walking.
‘Hey, Bekker, you deaf? Thought you were watching the door?’
Aila turned and glanced at the man who had emerged from the room. ‘Eh, yeah. I was just, uh, going to take a leak.’
The man nodded. ‘I’m heading that way, myself; I’ll walk with you.’
‘Sure.’
She waited until he had drawn level with her, then let him lead the way. They went to the rear of the building, and stopped by a door, from where a foul odour was emanating.
‘You better go first,’ the man said. ‘If Olvin catches you away from your post he’ll kick your ass into next month.’
‘Thanks,’ Aila muttered. ‘Wait. What’s that?’
She pointed over his shoulder and he turned. Aila whipped her knife out and punched up with her hand, embedding the blade into the side of the man’s neck, her other hand going up to muffle his cries as he sank to the floor. She pulled the knife out and wiped it on the man’s cloak, then glanced around. She kicked open the door of the toilet and pushed the man inside, wedging him on the floor between the door and the noxious-smelling trough by the wall.
‘Damn it,’ she muttered. ‘I should have asked you what your name was first.’
You see me as the man I just killed.
She returned to the main hallway, which was quiet. She should have also asked him where the kitchen was, she thought as she listened to the sounds coming from the side rooms. In the corner of the hall she saw a small flight of steps descending, and she walked over to take a look. She peered over the rail, and heard the sounds of pots and pans, while the scent of roasting meat drifted upwards. She smiled. After a quick glance over her shoulder, she tip-toed down the steps to the bottom, where a passageway led to a kitchen. Servants bustled around, preparing enough food to feed twenty families in large pots that were suspended over a roaring central hearth. Anger filled her at the thought of the many hungry mouths in the Circuit, while the gangs ate like kings.
A red-faced chef glanced over. ‘It’ll be ready when it’s ready. Coming down here isn’t going to make the beef cook any faster.’
‘The boss wants a bottle of brandy,’ she said, noticing a pretty serving girl loading a tray.
‘Over there,’ said the chef, pointing to a cupboard. ‘Take one, and give me peace.’
Aila went over to the cupboard, and selected the most expensive bottle she could see. She picked up a tray and laid the bottle and a few glasses onto it, then carried it back up the stairs.
You see me as that pretty serving girl, but with a shorter skirt.
She smiled to herself as she ascended the larger set of stairs. Mortal men could be so predictable at times, and she hoped this would be one such occasion. Her informer had told her that the gang boss Olvin had rooms on the top floor, so she continued upwards, passing guards who were more interested in her illusory legs than who she might really be.
She stopped outside a well-guarded door and looked one of the men in the eye. ‘I was told to bring this up for the boss.’
The guards gave the tray a cursory glance and opened the door for her.
‘Thanks, boys,’ she said, striding in. The room was thick with opium smoke, a scent she readily recognised. Three men and a woman were sitting on a pair of long, low couches. They were passing a pipe around, and from their eyes they seemed to be in a highly relaxed state.
Aila curtseyed before them. ‘The boys downstairs asked me to bring this up for you.’
An older man narrowed his eyes and glanced around, as if he hadn’t noticed where she had appeared from.
‘Is that brandy?’ said another.
‘Yeah.’
‘Well, get it open, girl,’ the older man said, leering at her. ‘Then you can come over here and sit down on old Daddy Olvin’s knee.’
Aila suppressed a grimace. ‘Sure.’
She took the tray to a table by the wall, where paint was peeling off in strips. She prised the wax seal from the bottle with her fingernails and opened it, slipping in the contents of the small paper sachet she had brought along. She carried the tray back over to the table and laid it down.
The woman eyed her with suspicion. ‘Does your father know you’re up here?’
Aila blinked.
‘Leave her be,’ said the older man. ‘If that miserable chef wants to send his daughter up here for me, then that’s his business.’ He patted his lap.
Aila smothered her revulsion and did as she was told. She picked up the bottle as the man’s hand went to her waist, and filled the four glasses on the tray.
The woman raised her hand as one of the men reached for a glass. ‘Wait. Get her to drink some first.’
The older man laughed. ‘By Malik’s crotch, you’re paranoid tonight. We just watched her open a sealed bottle.’
‘I didn’t see her open it,’ the woman said. ‘Look, I’m just watching out for you, boss; you know how many folk in the Circuit want you dead.’
Olvin puffed on the pipe, and a thick wad of smoke drifted up to the ceiling. ‘Relax.’
‘I will,’ the woman said, ‘after she’s taken a drink.’
Aila turned to Olvin. ‘I’m happy to have some; it’s good brandy.’
‘Fine,’ he said, ‘let’s humour her.’
Aila picked up a glass and knocked half of it back. She wiped her lips and nodded. ‘That’s the best thing to come out of Tara since… ever.’
‘See?’ said Olvin, laughing at the woman on the couch. ‘Nothing to worry about.’
He picked up his glass and drank, and the others did the same. Aila watched each of them take a drink as her heart hammered within her chest. She started to feel the poison get to work in her stomach, and she surged her self-healing powers, repairing any damage as soon as it could be inflicted by the lethal concoction.
The woman was the first to notice something was wrong. She dropped her glass, and it smashed off the edge of the low table. One of the men put a hand to his throat, his eyes wide, then Aila heard Olvin choke. She broke free of his grasp, and turned, watching as the three men and the woman collapsed, convulsed for a moment, then gasped their last breaths.
Aila frowned. She had imagined she was going to have time to deliver a little speech to them before they died, and she had practised it until she knew it off by heart. The stupid mortals had taken only seconds to die, and she felt slightly robbed. They should have known the reasons for their deaths, it hardly seemed right to take their lives without them knowing why.
The poison had left no visible trace on their bodies, so she hauled them back onto the couch and arranged them in positions that might be taken for sleeping if no one checked too closely. While she was moving Olvin’s feet, she noticed a small box under the couch and took it out. It was unlocked, and she opened it. Inside was a bag of gold and a large discoloured lump of opium. She pocketed the gold, closed the tin, sat for a moment, then reopened it and took the opium as well. She wouldn’t smoke it, she told herself. She would keep it for… a bribe or something. She definitely wouldn’t smoke it. She was past that.
She walked to the door.
You see me as the same young woman, only with her make-up a little smudged.
She opened the door and stepped outside. The guards turned to look at her, and she gave them a smile as she started to descend the staircase. Though she was still annoyed about the speech, she was starting to feel pleased with her evening’s work. She knew that the gang-leaders she had killed would be replaced, but any disruption to their work was welcome.
A high-pitched scream rose up as she was halfway down the final flight of stairs. It was coming from the rear toilet where the body of the man she had stabbed was hidden, and Aila hurried down the last steps. The hallway was filling with people coming out of the side rooms to see what was causing the noise, and Aila put on a concerned face as she squeezed past them.
A woman ran from behind the stairs, her eyes wide
in shock.
‘Someone’s stabbed Medhi,’ she cried.
The crowd hurried towards where the woman was standing, and Aila cursed as she was caught up among them.
‘Nobody gets in or out!’ yelled a man in leather armour, a sword hanging from his waist. He grabbed a younger man. ‘Get upstairs and let the bosses know. Run.’
The younger man scrambled through the crowd and sprinted for the stairs. Aila’s fear peaked and for a second she froze. There were too many people around for her to change appearance, and the front doors of the building were being locked. Three men dragged the bloody corpse of Medhi through from the toilet chamber, and Aila felt the anger of the crowd surge. She forced her way through the packed mob, heading back towards the stairs. The kitchens, she thought; there’s bound to be another way out.
The back of the hallway was a little quieter, and she ran to the top of the small staircase, then skidded to a halt. People were coming up the steps from the kitchen. Leading them was the young, pretty serving girl whose appearance Aila had copied. The girl’s eyes glanced up and saw Aila, and she stopped on the stairs, her eyes wide, and her mouth opening to scream. Behind her, the chef frowned at his daughter, then also looked up.
The Mortal Blade: An Epic Fantasy Adventure (The Magelands Eternal Siege Book 1) Page 1
