The Magelands Origins

by Christopher Mitchell

  The remaining Rahain broke, and fled the field, running in the direction they had come, casting aside shields and crossbows in their panic.

  The Kell let out a roar; a guttural cry of relief.

  Killop looked out upon the field, littered with burnt corpses and bodies riddled with arrows. The grass was scorched in a deep swathe shaped like a fan, narrow close to the wall, and spreading out to fifty yards wide at the edge of its range. The charred grass smoked, and clouds of ash puffed and swirled as the breeze blew.

  He turned to see Kelpie approach.

  She was smiling and crying at the same time, as she gazed out over the field of dead.

  ‘So many,’ she said, shaking her head as she turned to him. ‘At least a thousand Rahain lie dead for no loss on our side,’ she said. ‘Killop, your leadership was sound. Thank you.’

  ‘I need to assemble a company of volunteers,’ he said.

  She raised an eyebrow.

  ‘The Lach were getting bogged down, last we saw,’ he said. ‘The Rahain stone-throwing machines were tearing holes through them, and they couldn’t get near enough to take on the lizards close up. We need to help them.’

  ‘You have a plan, I assume?’

  ‘Aye,’ he said, lying.

  ‘Will you be heading up the road?’ she said, pointing ahead to where the Rahain had fled.

  ‘Aye,’ he said, deciding on the spot.

  ‘Take the fourth then,’ she said. ‘They’re already lined up in a column that way. Please try not to get them all killed, company leader.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  He turned to where Keira lay. He knelt beside her, and took her hand. She was stirring, and her eyes were open.

  ‘That was incredible,’ he said to her. ‘Hopefully it’s terrified every lizard within ten miles of here.’

  ‘That was the fucking plan,’ she croaked. Lacey held a mug of water to her lips and she drank.

  ‘Our evening’s not done yet,’ he said. ‘I’m taking the fourth up the road, see if we can hit their stone-throwers from the side. You up for it?’

  ‘Aye, wee brother,’ she coughed, struggling to her knees, while Lacey held her shoulder. ‘What a stupid question, of course I’m up for it.’

  ‘Ten minutes,’ he said. ‘I’ll be at the western wall.’

  He turned to the rest of the squad. ‘Kylon, Calum, tell your crews to get ready, then follow me.’

  They walked up the side of the western wall, until they had passed half of the warriors of the fourth, who were in their positions by the dyke, watching him.

  Killop halted. ‘Lads,’ he said to Kylon and Calum, ‘you’ve been promoted.’ He turned to the soldiers on the wall.

  ‘Fourth company,’ he shouted. ‘Squad leaders to me!’

  The message was passed up and down the line, and soon a score of rough looking warriors stood in front of him.

  ‘I’m your new company leader, and I’m taking the fourth up the road,’ he said to them. ‘We’re going to cut through the hedges and cross the Millburn at the old threshing house. When we get to the other side, we’re going to form up into a wedge, with the mage in the centre, and drive our way straight to their giant stone-throwers. We’re going to destroy them, understood?’

  ‘Aye, boss,’ they replied.

  ‘Squad leader Kylon and I will be at the head of the wedge, and squad leader Calum will be behind us with mage Keira. Your squads will cover the flanks, left and right.’

  Calum nudged him. ‘Here she comes, boss.’

  They watched Keira approach. She looked refreshed, and was laughing with Lacey and Kyleen, though the bodyguard’s face remained solemn. The young Lach was holding the shuttered storm lantern close to her chest.

  ‘Mage,’ he said as she reached him.

  She looked at him, her eye cocked.

  ‘Don’t you start,’ she said. ‘I rely on you to stop my head exploding from all the fucking adulation.’

  ‘Big sister, then,’ he said. ‘Come on.’

  They walked to the front of the line, and waited a few moments for everyone to get ready. When all eyes were on them, Killop raised his arm. He turned and started to run, and within seconds he heard the thump of two hundred warriors running behind him.

  He kept to the line of the drystane dyke as it ran north, then vaulted over it as it turned, landing on the gravel road. Away from the light of the Kell bonfire it was dimmer, and he slowed his pace to let his eyes adjust. They ghosted between hedges and walls along the empty road, until they reached the end of a high wall. There was another which began ahead of them and they hushed to listen, but there were no sounds closer than the general low rumble of the battle coming from the other side of the Millburn. They set off again, increasing to a sprint as they passed the open area to their right, where the dark shape of a farmhouse loomed.

  The lines of hedgerow came to an end a few paces to their left. Killop stole forward, and peered round the edge, raising his left arm to signal a halt to everyone behind him. Compared to the dark shadows of the road, the battlefield was lit up. He could see the backs of the Rahain left flank, sheltering under the rims of their enormous shields. Their lines stretched across the battlefield as far as he could see, and behind the rearmost lines sat the four huge boulder-throwing machines. Squads of Rahain were attending them, some to load the machines, others to guard. To the rear of the machines, on a slight incline, lay the Rahain command tents, their supply camp, and another, substantial, reserve force of soldiers.

  Kylon and Calum appeared at his shoulder.

  ‘Thoughts?’ he said.

  Kylon spat on the dark ground.

  ‘I think we can get to the stone-throwers,’ Calum said, ‘but as soon as we do, that force on the wee hill next to the tents will sweep right down onto us. Or just stand there and shoot. Either way, there’s going to be trouble getting back out again.’

  Killop nodded, then gestured for Keira to join them.

  ‘Here’s where we part, sister,’ he said. ‘You wait here with the squad, and I’ll take the rest of the company another two hundred yards up the road. When you see us attack their command tents, get across the Millburn and run straight to the machines. Torch them, then bolt.’

  ‘And what about you?’

  ‘We’ll be distracting them.’

  ‘By getting yourself fucking killed?’

  ‘Don’t worry, as soon as they see there’s a fire mage burning their machines, they’ll forget all about us.’

  She stared at him.

  ‘Good luck,’ he said, then turned to the rest of the company. ‘Change of plan. Kylon and Calum’s squad are with the mage, the rest of you, follow me.’

  He turned and ran up the dark road, his feet crunching on the soft gravel. It was almost pitch dark, and only the dim contrast of the white stones on the road, registering as a lighter shade of black, made the way visible. Over on the left, the torches of the Rahain camp flickered. When he guessed that they were about parallel with the command tents, he signalled a halt.

  ‘Over the Millburn, wedge, weapons,’ he whispered down the line.

  Straining his eyes, he could see the line of the burn to the left of the road, the lights from the seven stars overhead reflected in its rushing waters. He leapt over it, landing on the soft, grassy bank. He scrambled up to the edge of a field, trodden by thousands of boots into dried mud.

  He waited for the rest of the company to cross, gesturing where he wanted the flanks of the wedge to form up.

  When they were in position, he spoke to them. ‘We’re going to hit the side of their camp, straight for the command tents. Keep an eye on the stone-throwing machines, when you see the first one go up, that means we’ve got five more minutes, then we pull back the way we came. Kill anything in your way, and once in the camp scream and yell, but until we get there, silence.’

  He put on his helmet, and swung his shield into position.

  They set off across the dark field. The camp was a hundred y
ards away, and they ran at a steady pace, keeping as quiet as they were able. The battle roared off to their left, and the slope started to climb. Killop saw a line of guards ahead, spread thinly about twenty yards in front of the camp, which otherwise appeared to be unprotected. Most guards were watching the battle. He upped his pace, unsheathing his sword.

  The Kell wedge ripped through the thin picket line, the guards cut down before they were even aware they were being attacked. Within seconds they were among the tents and wagons of the supply camp, jumping over guy ropes, and slashing at anything that moved. One of the Kell flung a lit torch into a hay wagon, and it burst into flames. Warriors pushed it with poles, sending it crashing into a row of tents. Soon fire was spreading through the eastern side of the camp, and horns were blaring from the direction of the reserve force.

  The Kell loose in the camp set about slaughtering the non-combatants that were stationed there. No mercy was shown to the lizards, and whether they were baker, fletcher or merchant, all fell beneath their red hands.

  Killop caught himself, as he noticed a large light in the sky to his left. He ran between some carts to get a better view, and saw that the first of the Rahain machines was aflame, its high beams and pulleys roaring with fire. Ropes under tension snapped and cracked like flaming whips through the air. Around its base lay scattered bodies.

  One down, he thought.

  A squad leader ran to him.

  ‘Boss,’ he shouted, ‘the lizard reserves are entering the camp from the north.’

  ‘We’ll keep them busy for five minutes,’ he ordered. ‘Let the mage do her job, then we get the fuck out of here.’

  ‘Aye, boss,’ he nodded, and ran back.

  Killop saw a second machine explode in a shower of flying debris and flames. He turned, and ran back through the carts and tents. He reached a group of Kell who had pushed over a line of wagons, which they had formed into a barricade blocking one of the main entrances into the camp from the north. Lizard crossbows were firing at the makeshift barrier, and the Kell were keeping low. Most had sheathed their swords, and were firing their longbows through the gaps between the carts.

  Killop skidded to a halt by the side of a cart, and the warriors turned to him, nodding. There were so many fires burning that the whole camp was illuminated in flickering light.

  ‘They’re coming,’ one of the warriors shouted.

  A mass of Rahain infantry charged into the wagons, pushing them back a foot.

  ‘Swords,’ Killop shouted.

  Soldiers appeared over the top of the carts, and launched themselves at the Kell.

  His shield up, Killop swung at the first to leap down, and split him in two, but dozens more were following, like a flood spilling over the wall of a dam. The Kell kept their positions, but there were too few of them to form a shieldwall without being outflanked.

  ‘Fall back,’ Killop cried. ‘Don’t turn, keep you faces to them!’

  The squads started stepping backwards, trying to keep in their formations, but several warriors were down, and a gap appeared in the middle of their line. Dozens of Rahain were now over the wagons, and were surging towards them.

  An arrow flew past his left ear and straight into the throat of the closest lizard. Then a second, and a third, each knocking a soldier off their feet.

  ‘Run!’ he shouted, starting to sprint, his shield over his back, as he cajoled the survivors of the Kell squads back through the tents and wagons.

  When he reached her she was still shooting.

  ‘Kallie!’ he cried. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘Ask me later, man-bear,’ she said, swinging her bow over her shoulder and drawing a knife.

  They ran as fast as they were able with what felt like an entire army chasing them. They passed by slashed tents and bodies then, like blowing out a candle, they crossed into the darkness of the field, and kept running, then stumbling, over the muddy troughs and divots.

  Gasping for breath, Killop reached the Millburn, and fell headfirst into the foot-deep waters. The icy stream jolted him, and he spluttered and coughed and struggled to his knees. Other Kell warriors had made it back to the Millburn, and were bunching against its steep western bank. Ahead of him, Kallie was lying on her front, her head over the top of the bank. She glanced down at him, and smiled.

  ‘All four machines are ablaze, man-bear. The lizards are retreating.’

  Chapter 28

  Withdrawal

  By the Brig Pass, Kell – 16th Day, First Third Autumn 503

  The forested hillside shone in the autumn sunshine, a rare day with blue skies illuminating the reds, yellows and oranges of the leaves. Killop paused, taking in the beauty of the mountains and valleys laid out before him. He looked over his shoulder. The rest of the squad were following, but their heads were lowered, and he waited for them to catch up. Kallie had urged him to spend more time with them, now that the responsibilities of running fourth company were keeping him busy, and he had agreed to accompany the old squad on a scouting expedition. Twenty-four days had passed since Marchside, but the battle still dominated their thoughts.

  The Rahain had retreated once the Lach had begun tearing into their forward lines. Without their machines, they were in danger of losing the battle, and had turned and left the field. Clan scouts had tailed them all the way back to Middle River, where they had built an enormous fortified camp, and settled in. About four thousand lizards had been killed in the battle, against three thousand Lach, almost half their force. Many of the leaders of the Lach had died when a massive boulder had scored a direct hit on their command tent. The Lach mages had survived, and Keira had been spending most of her time with them, trying to raise their skills and knowledge.

  The Brig had emerged almost unscathed. When he had seen what the Rahain crossbows and throwing machines were doing to the Lach, Brendan had repented of his earlier bravado, and forbidden any charge. He had only allowed the Brig to engage the Rahain at the end of the battle, in order to hasten their withdrawal. The Lach had a few unkind words to say regarding their behaviour, and the leaders of both clans ensured that their warriors were kept apart as the armies made their way to the camp at the base of the Brig Pass.

  The Kell had also fared better than the Lach, though no one muttered about their courage. Aside from the hundred that had been lost in the fourth company’s attack on the Rahain camp, there had been no other casualties. The raid on the camp, and the destruction of the machines, had been talked about at every clan campfire for the entire march to the Brig Pass, the tale growing with each telling.

  One hundred dead. Half the company he had been entrusted with.

  Kelpie had wept when he had led the survivors back to the Kell camp. Despite the victory, the Kylanna twins felt the loss of every Kell. He had reformed the mauled squads into ten new ones, his depleted old squad one of them, and he had retained command of the company. His field promotion had set a precedent. Before, squads were given orders by raid leaders, and left to work on their own as independent fighting units, but now the other clans were appointing company leaders of their own, as war swept tradition aside.

  Having spent so many days organising his company, he had neglected his old squad, until Kallie had told him how bad things were among them.

  It was the loss of Calum and Clara in the fight for the throwing machines that had crushed their spirits. The killing of two of their most experienced hands, who had been with the squad since the beginning, had felt like a punch in the guts. When Killop and Kallie had returned to the Kell camp after the battle, Kelly had been holding onto Calum’s corpse, and wailing her grief. Kallie had rushed to her side, but Kelly had pushed her away. Conal had been kneeling by Clara, while Kalma and the other younger ones were in tears, and even Keira was subdued as she frowned at Calum’s body, crushed by a beam falling from one of the machines.

  After the minding, Killop had been sent back to work getting his company in order for the march to the Brig Pass, and half a third had p
assed before he saw the squad again.

  They reached the foot of the hillside, braving a fresh wind from the west. They stopped for the evening in a stand of trees, and pitched their two tents out of the wind. With Keira, Lacey and Kyleen back at the pass, it felt like a half-squad again.

  The two tents faced each other across a small clearing, and they lit a campfire. Killop had ensured they had brought plenty of food and drink, and Conal and Kalma, the youngest, took over dinner duties. On one side of the fire sat Killop, with Kallie to his left, and Kylon to his right. Kelly sat on the other side, with Koreen. Both women were scowling across the fire at Kallie, and whispering together. The scar on Kelly’s cheek was raw where she had been picking at it.

  The other open sore was that Kelly blamed her twin for abandoning her and the squad and going after Killop instead during the battle, and Kallie would not apologise for it. Twins fell out all the time, but this was different, as neither was prepared to back down. Killop had been hearing of the rift, as he had been able to catch up with Kallie most days, but it was only seeing the squad together that he realised how bad it had got.

  No one spoke as Conal and Kalma prepared dinner. Ale was served, there being no cider this far south, but there were none of the usual comments about it smelling of old boots. Killop wondered what he could say to them, and wished he had brought Keira.

  They ate and drank in silence, the sky darkening.

  ‘Fucksake,’ said Kylon. ‘Me again?’

  Killop looked at him. ‘It’s your squad now.’

  ‘Aye,’ he said and sat back, gazing at the warriors around the fire.

  ‘Last time we were fighting, ye were all shouting threats at each other,’ he said. ‘Now it’s whispers and hateful stares.’

  The squad said nothing.

  ‘Kallie,’ he said.