The Magelands Box Set

by Christopher Mitchell

  Daphne said nothing, her throat dry, her heart pounding.

  Douanna sat back, and sipped her tea.

  ‘My dear Daphne,’ she said, ‘at least try to look surprised. Don’t worry, I won’t let on to anyone that you knew. It can be our secret.’

  ‘You told the High Senate?’

  ‘Of course I told them,’ Douanna said. ‘It was my civic and patriotic duty. And, just about now, unless I’m much mistaken, several detachments of soldiers should be storming Laodoc’s mansion. They would have done it earlier, but I asked them to wait until you had left. I didn’t want you getting mixed up in all that unpleasantness.’ She shook her head. ‘Just imagine. A councillor, harbouring the brother of a notorious murderer and terrorist! And to think that only last night I almost made a deal with him.’

  ‘Do you think he knew?’

  ‘Maybe, maybe not,’ Douanna shrugged. ‘He’s a fool or a traitor, either way he’s finished. I’ll tell you someone who did know however, that pretty little slave girl of his. I made certain the senate knew of her involvement. We cannot tolerate sedition amongst the servile classes.’

  ‘What will happen to her?’

  ‘Oh, best not to think about that,’ Douanna said, pulling a face. ‘Punishments meted out to slaves for crimes against the state tend to be rather gruesome.’

  Daphne jumped to her feet, her anger exploding. Several café patrons turned to look, and she forced herself not to shout. She unclenched her right fist.

  ‘Oh Daphne, you’re no fun,’ Douanna said, smiling. ‘Leaving already, when you haven’t even asked me how I came by this information?’

  Daphne sat, but said nothing.

  ‘That mean expression on your face is most unattractive,’ Douanna said. ‘I hope you made more of an effort for Getherin.’

  Daphne’s eyes narrowed.

  Douanna laughed, her tongue flickering in amusement. ‘You have only yourself to blame, my dear,’ she said. ‘After all, it was you who first asked me to speak with him, and so I did. If it’s any comfort, he was in my pay long before you two got together romantically. I was looking for someone inside your embassy, and there he was. He had debts, and some odd, expensive habits, and I had the money. It was a perfect match. And then you started sleeping with him! I couldn’t believe my luck when he told me.’

  ‘I’ll kill him.’

  ‘Sorry, my dear, but you’re too late,’ Douanna said, mock-sadly. ‘Apparently embassy investigators discovered there was a leak, and closed in on him this morning. Killed trying to escape, I believe. Practically his final act in my service was to inform me about Killop and the terrorist.’ She sighed. ‘I’ll miss him. Who will tell me all your gossip now?’

  Daphne seethed, her battle-vision flickering in and out like a coiled spring. She weighed it up. Not there. Not in a crowded place. She forced herself to relax, and stood.

  ‘Thank you for the tea,’ she said. ‘I will of course kill you if I see you again.’

  She walked away, hearing the sound of gentle laughter behind her.

  She reached the street and started to run, her emotions racing. She wasn’t aware of where she was going, passing streets and busy squares, until she realised that she was heading for the central cavern, towards the High Senate.

  Where Killop would have been taken.

  She hesitated, and ducked into a side street. She leaned against the wall and threw up. Her rage boiled over and she almost punched the wall in frustration, with only the memory of her crippled left arm stopping her.

  What was she going to do? Rescue them on her own?

  No, she thought, but she could find them.

  She walked back onto the main street, and continued towards the High Senate. When she got close enough, she slipped around the back of a tall building, and climbed to the roof. She found a sheltered spot, and lay down.

  If she could find him in her dream, then perhaps she could do it again.

  She focused on one of the many spires that towered up from the domed chambers of the High Senate, and used her line-vision to pull her sight up there in an instant. Now where? Just relax, she told herself, where would they take the Kellach? Think.

  She looked around. The jumble of domes and arches piled up below her. She noticed a small open window, on the gallery of a squat dome.

  All right, she thought, let’s try range-vision. She focussed on the window, and tried to repeat the same step that she took when initiating line-vision. Her sight shot out, but at the same time she felt an overwhelming sense of dizziness and disorientation. She lost the sense of up or down, or back or forward, her sight spun and whirled, the light of the small window flickering past with each revolution. She felt panic surge through her.

  Back, she willed, back. In an instant her sight returned to her body. She closed her eyes in pain, and vomited sour cups of tea down the tiled roof of the building where she lay.

  Her head felt like it was going to burst, and blood was coming from her nose. Almost blind, she crawled across the roof, and staggered down the steps, pulling her hood over her face, and keeping her head down.

  Daphne tried not to stumble too often on her long walk home, defeated, and in agony. Killop was gone, and Kallie and Bridget. Laodoc too, though he had probably known nothing about the fire mage. And Simiona? Tears came to her eyes as she thought of the young Rahain.

  Once home, she went straight to her room, collapsed onto her bed, and curled up into a ball. Every part of her ached, her teeth and ears pounded in agony, and nausea soaked through her in waves.

  Maybe not everything had been a total loss, Daphne grimaced, as she remembered her experiment with range-vision. She had managed it, she thought, though the price had been high, and it would take a lot of practice before she would be able to control it. She had to master her new skill, were she to rescue Killop.

  She would also need to see her new weed dealer again soon.

  Chapter 20

  Keira, Fire Mage

  Rahain Capital, Rahain Republic – 24th Day, Last Third Winter 504

  ‘You can come out now, ya great big cowards,’ Bridget shouted, as she thumped on Killop’s bedroom door. ‘The scary woman’s gone.’

  Kallie glanced at him, smiling weakly.

  ‘Come on in,’ he shouted to Bridget.

  She opened the door, sauntered over and sat down at the table next to them, a smirk on the edge of her lips.

  ‘How’d it go?’

  ‘Fine,’ she said. ‘We gave her a tour of the place, all very civilised.’

  ‘And Laodoc?’ Kallie asked. ‘Was he angry?’

  ‘A bit annoyed,’ Bridget replied. ‘But he hid it well. You did tell him that you’d be staying in your room, so at least he knew in advance.’

  ‘Did she ask where we were?’ said Killop, avoiding her name.

  ‘Aye,’ she said. ‘Of course. Only natural. You come to inspect three specimens, to make sure they’re being well treated, and you’re only shown the one, then you’re going to ask.’

  ‘What did you say?’ Kallie asked.

  ‘Laodoc told her you were both feeling sick.’

  ‘Did she believe it?’

  ‘Aye, I think so,’ Bridget said. ‘Anyway, that was right before she left.’

  Killop felt a surge of disappointment. He tried to keep his expression even, as if he wasn’t really interested in talking about Daphne.

  ‘Never mind her,’ Bridget went on. ‘Killop, did you remember to speak to Laodoc about getting us up to that place in the mountains? It’s been over a third since you went. I’d love to see it in spring.’

  ‘Aye,’ he said, ‘but he’s so wrapped up in the whole Rakanese business that I couldn’t pin him down. I don’t think he’s even seen any builders yet.’

  Bridget sighed.

  ‘I need to get out of here,’ she groaned. ‘We go up to the mountain estate together, and then we make a run for it. But it needs to be soon. This place is doing my fucking head in.’

&nb
sp; There was a loud crashing sound, as if several windows had been smashed, and then angry shouts echoed up from outside.

  The prisoners looked at each other, then got up and walked through the hall to the common room. They went up to the far window, and looked down onto the front of the mansion.

  Killop swore. Dozens of soldiers were moving through the courtyard, and into the house by the front doors, which were lying on the ground, their hinges broken.

  ‘What the fuck’s going on?’ Bridget hissed. ‘Are they coming for us?’

  ‘Why in Pyre’s name would they?’ Kallie asked. ‘Why now? We’ve been here for thirds.’

  Killop stayed silent, his mouth dry. Had he been stupid to believe that Simiona wouldn’t tell anyone? But why had she come to let him know about Keira’s arrest, if she was going to betray him?

  They heard shouts ringing out from the halls and corridors of the mansion, as the soldiers spread through the building.

  ‘Look!’ Kallie called out. Killop turned back to the window, and saw Laodoc being escorted down the wide steps at the front of the mansion, a soldier gripping each arm. The old man looked terrified and was glancing about in confusion. The soldiers bundled him into a waiting carriage, which lumbered off as soon as the door was closed.

  ‘Why have they arrested him?’ Bridget asked. ‘What’s that poor old bastard ever done?’

  Another wagon arrived, this one with a large steel cage upon its flat bed. The three captives then gasped as they saw Simiona being brought out of the house next, being dragged by the hair. Soldiers pushed her down the steps in front of the entrance, and in between two ranks of guards, who lashed out, kicking, and clubbing her with crossbow butts as she was dragged along.

  ‘Bastards,’ Bridget whispered. Killop looked away, a bitter sickness growing inside him.

  ‘What will we do?’ Kallie asked.

  Killop looked around the room for anything he could use as a weapon.

  ‘We fight,’ he said.

  ‘Aye,’ Bridget nodded.

  Killop pushed the heavy dining table over, and kicked off one of the thick wooden legs. Kallie hurled a wall-mirror to the floor, smashing it. She ripped off a thick piece of the curtains, and wrapped the fabric round her hand, then picked up a long shard of glass. Bridget armed herself with a foot-long bronze candlestick from the mantelpiece.

  Killop looked at the two young women, standing prepared to fight. He tried to think of the right words to say.

  ‘You ready?’ he said.

  Bridget raised an eyebrow and squinted at Kallie. ‘Inspirational speech.’

  Kallie laughed, and went to the door. She opened it a crack and peered out.

  ‘I can hear them in the corridor,’ she said. ‘They’re ordering Laodoc’s guards to put down their weapons and surrender. Wait, there they are, they’re coming to the gate.’

  ‘This is an order for the Kellach Brigdomin slave known as Killop,’ a voice called. ‘Come out and surrender.’

  Killop stepped back in surprise. They wanted him? His heart sank as he realised they must have found out about Keira. He almost cursed Simiona, before he remembered how he had last seen her.

  ‘Come and take him!’ Kallie cried.

  ‘The lives of the two female slaves will be spared if the male Killop surrenders,’ the voice shouted.

  ‘Go fuck yourselves!’ Bridget yelled back.

  ‘They’re opening the gate,’ Kallie said from the door.

  ‘Let’s go!’ cried Killop. ‘Get into them!’

  He charged out into the hallway, just as the first Rahain soldiers were rushing through the gate. They held spears, but hesitated for a second too long, and Killop crashed into them, clubbing heads with the table leg, swinging it two-handed.

  Rahain troops poured into the small hallway, filling it up until it became a sea of surging bodies. Some soldiers carried ropes, which they threw over Killop’s frame, while hands snatched at him from all directions. He lashed out at the crowd as they pressed closer around him. A rope was looped round his wrist, wrenching the table leg from his grasp, so he used his free fist to beat down those pushed up next to him. He could hear Bridget shouting, but lost sight of her, and Kallie, as the tremendous crush of bodies tightened around him. He felt a rope land over his shoulders, and then tighten round his neck, constricting his breathing. He swung his elbows, cracking one Rahain in the face and knocking him unconscious, but the soldier didn’t move, held upright by all the other bodies crammed into the hallway.

  ‘Alive!’ he heard someone shout. ‘Take him alive!’

  Gradually, Killop was pulled beneath the wave of Rahain, and forced to the ground. He heard the final breath of a soldier who had got trapped beneath him, as his ribcage was crushed by the weight. His view darkened, as the Rahain trampling him blocked out the light, and his eyes started to close. He pulled his free hand up to tug at the noose round his neck, as boots stamped down on him. He heard a scream. Bridget? He lost consciousness.

  He came to, his swollen and bleeding face pressed down against the dirty wooden floor of a wagon. He was wrapped in chains, and lying on his side. He ached all over, and his breath came in painful rasps from his bruised throat. He opened his eyes a crack, and saw crossbows aimed at his body, by soldiers who sat on the benches to either side of him. He felt the unsteady rocking motion of the wagon as it lurched along the road. The Rahain must have separated them, he realised, remembering the steel cage.

  He closed his eyes, his mind foggy, and concentrated on staying alive.

  ‘Look at the condition of him!’ a man shouted.

  ‘We brought in the captive alive, sir,’ a woman replied. ‘As ordered. He resisted arrest.’

  Killop felt hands prod his ribs, then feel his arms. He lay motionless on the ground, chains digging into his skin.

  ‘Will he live?’ the man asked.

  ‘Oh yes,’ said a male voice much closer to him, as hands moved down his legs. ‘He’ll be fine, no broken limbs. These Kellach are tough, my lord. I’ve seen some of them survive wounds that would have killed any Rahain. And they recover a lot faster than us as well. This one should be back on his feet in a couple of days.’

  ‘Thank you, doctor,’ the first man said, audibly relieved. ‘And to you, Lieutenant, my thanks also.’

  ‘Sir.’

  ‘And the other Kellach?’

  ‘Also captured, sir,’ she replied. ‘Both females sustained injuries in the struggle.’

  ‘Fighters, eh?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘And where are they now?’

  ‘We put them in with the fire mage’s servant,’ she said. ‘Doctors are looking at them now.’

  ‘Good,’ he said. ‘Make sure at least one of them lives. We’ll need them to persuade this savage here to do as he’s told.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Get him inside then,’ he said. ‘Shackle him to the wall, then take these chains off. Make sure he has food and water. I’ll be back shortly. I have to check on Councillor Laodoc, see how the old boy’s liking his new accommodation.’

  Killop heard movement, then hands reached out and lifted him. He was carried for a moment, then placed down onto a bed of straw. He felt his wrists and ankles be fitted with new shackles, and then the other chains were cut from him. His ribs eased out, sending excruciating bolts of pain through his chest.

  Footsteps backed away from him, and a gate swung shut, its hinges grating.

  He opened his eyes.

  Outside the bars of his cell, a lamp was burning, illuminating a small guardroom where four soldiers stood in the flickering shadows, crossbows slung across their shoulders.

  On the stone floor next to him lay a jug of water, and a plate with a chunk of ryebread.

  The Rahain soldiers watched as he crawled across the straw. He splashed water over his bloody face, then drank. He picked up the half-loaf, and sat, his back against the wall, eating slowly, his jaw bruised and swollen. He felt too numb to even begin
trying to work out what had happened. His future had been wiped clean again, and whatever occurred, there would be no going back to the life they had led at the mansion. It had to be Keira. They were going to use him, to get to her. Why? What did they want with her? Surely they would just execute her, somewhere out in public, where all the peasants could watch.

  He remembered that Kallie and Bridget had been hurt, but at least they had survived. Had Simiona?

  Killop hung his head. Taken alive again.

  Guards changed shift, more food arrived, and the hours passed. Occasionally the female officer would come in to check everything was fine, but no one spoke to Killop. The sleep and meals had done him some good, and he could feel his strength returning.

  After maybe a day, Killop was awoken by a shout.

  He sat up, opening his eyes.

  Two dark-robed men and the officer were standing on the other side of the bars from his narrow cell.

  ‘Do you understand me?’ the taller, older man said. The younger to his right was glaring at Killop in suspicion and loathing.

  ‘I do,’ he replied, remaining seated on the straw.

  The two Rahain men stared at him for a while, contempt emanating from them. The officer kept her face impassive.

  ‘What is your name?’ the old man asked. ‘Your full Kellach Brigdomin name?’

  ‘I’m not Kellach Brigdomin, you ignorant shite,’ he replied. ‘I’m Kell.’

  ‘We have your friends in custody,’ the old man said. ‘Know that we have no qualms about hurting them if it makes you do as we say.’

  ‘How do I know they’re alive?’

  ‘Will you confirm,’ he went on, ignoring him, ‘that your full name is Killop ae Kellan ae Kell?’