The Mortal Blade: An Epic Fantasy Adventure (The Magelands Eternal Siege Book 1)

by Christopher Mitchell

  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 support@brigdominbooks.com

  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

  Receive a FREE Magelands Eternal Siege Book

  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.