Killop remained silent.
The old man nodded. ‘Very well,’ he said. ‘The screams you’ll shortly be hearing will be coming from one of your friends. We will return later, after you’ve had some time to think.’
He glared back at them, a storm of emotions raging through him, but remained silent. Defiance fought with resignation. They already knew he was Keira’s brother, otherwise he would not be there. Getting him to admit it was just a formality. But yielding to them felt bitter.
‘I will tell you my name,’ he said, as they were turning for the door, ‘if you let me see that my friends are unharmed.’
‘They will be unharmed if you cooperate,’ the Rahain replied. He talked with the others for a moment, and then the officer unlocked and swung open a wooden door leading to a passageway. Down it ran a series of cells, and Killop got to his feet to look.
The officer gathered some guards, and they opened up a cell at the far end of the passageway. With crossbows and spears, they first led out Kallie, then Bridget, who was being supported by another woman. All three were standing, though Bridget looked hurt, her face and chest bandaged, and Kallie’s arm was in a sling. They were squinting up the corridor towards him, but there was a lamp directly above where they stood, and he doubted they could see him.
The guards pushed them back into their cell, and the door was closed.
Killop smiled.
Then it hit him. That had been Lacey, standing with Kallie, and helping to prop up Bridget. Lacey, his sister’s personal fire-starter. Pyre’s bollocks, they really had captured Keira.
‘There,’ the old man said. ‘You have seen them. Unharmed. Now, confirm for us your name.’
Killop remained standing, looking down at the three Rahain on the other side of the bars.
‘I am Killop ae Kellan ae Kell,’ he said, ‘and one day my sister will burn you all.’
More days passed, and Killop was left alone, excepting the constant presence of the guards.
With plenty of regular food, he was healing, and his ribs were giving him less pain. He tried to exercise, working his bruised and strained muscles, and thought about Kallie, Keira and Bridget. And Simiona, all the women in his life. He had let them down. How much simpler everything would have been if he had been killed, as he had intended, in the last battle under the Fire Mountain. Simiona and Laodoc would never have been arrested, and the Rahain would not have leverage over Keira. Then he remembered Kallie and Bridget. He believed that Bridget would have survived without him, but Kallie? But what had been the point of saving her, if it had led to this?
At first he had listened to the guards talk, but they had kept their conversations to discussing how much they had drunk the previous night, and on the outcome of the bets they had placed on the staged gaien fights. He had tried talking to them, but once they had got over their initial surprise that he could speak Rahain, they had ignored him, and had begun to speak in whispers so he couldn’t overhear.
Killop tried to judge the passage of time by the guards’ shift changes, and on around the fourth day, a different group of officials entered, bringing with them Laodoc. The old man was not in chains, but looked frail and ill, his face grey, and his yellow eyes sunken.
Killop stood as they approached.
One of the robed men pointed at him.
‘Will you confirm that this was your slave?’ he asked Laodoc.
Laodoc nodded.
‘Councillor,’ the man said, ‘we require a verbal response from you.’
‘I confirm it,’ he whispered.
‘And do you swear,’ the man continued, ‘that you had no knowledge that this slave was a close relative of the most wanted terrorist in Rahain, Keira the Kellach fire mage?’
‘I swear.’
‘And do you now denounce him?’
‘I do,’ Laodoc said, keeping his eyes lowered.
‘Very good, Councillor,’ the man replied. ‘Barring some paperwork, I hope to see your release come through by the end of today.’
He gestured to a pair of guards.
‘Take the councillor back to his cell.’
Killop said nothing as the old Rahain was led out of the room.
‘Slave,’ the robed man called to him. ‘Do you confirm…?’
‘The old man knew nothing,’ Killop said. ‘Do you think I would tell a councillor?’
‘And Professor Geolaid?’
‘The same,’ Killop replied.
‘What about the slave?’
‘She’s innocent,’ he said. ‘She would never betray her master.’
The man nodded.
‘Where is she?’ Killop asked.
The Rahain ignored him. He looked to his colleagues. ‘It’s time.’
The officer flicked her hand, and a dozen more soldiers trooped into the room, half with crossbows, half with pikes. The officer held up a large hood, and threw it through the bars.
‘Put it on,’ she commanded.
‘How about you tell me what’s happening first?’ he said, leaving the hood where it lay on the straw in front of him.
The robed man nodded at the officer.
‘We’re going to escort you out of this cell,’ she said. ‘Your sister has requested that she be allowed to talk with you alone.’
‘What is it that you want her to do?’ he asked. ‘Why haven’t you executed her? And me, for that matter?’
‘None of that is your concern,’ the robed man said. ‘We will meet your sister’s condition. You will not be harmed.’
Killop picked up the hood, and pulled it over his head. He then stood with his arms out-stretched. The cell was unlocked, and his shackles unbolted from the wall. He felt a pike jab his back, and he started walking.
‘Ye can take off the hood.’
He tried to reach with his hands, but the chains had been fastened to the wall, and he couldn’t move them. He shook his head instead, and the hood slid to the ground.
‘Keira!’ he cried, looking across the shadows of the cell to where his sister had been chained to the opposite wall.
‘Wee brother,’ she smirked. She looked well, though the signs of fading bruises and lesions were evident, even in the half-darkness. ‘When they told me you were alive,’ she said, ‘I didn’t believe it. I said, there’s no fucking way my wee brother would get captured. No fucking way. And yet here you are, hair all cut off, and with a face as smooth as a bairn’s arse. Well, there’s fuck all I can say about it, they got me too.’
She shook her head, and spat onto the straw.
‘Why have they not killed me?’ she asked.
‘I’ve been wondering that myself.’
‘The bastards said they would cut you up into small pieces if I didn’t cooperate.’
‘They’re using the exact same line on me,’ he said. ‘They’ve got Kallie and Bridget. And I saw Lacey as well.’
Keira laughed. ‘She’s still alive? Listen, she’s not the only one.’ Her expression turned serious. ‘Ma and Da, Killop.’
Killop gasped. ‘How?’
‘After the war,’ Keira said, ‘most of the lizard soldiers cleared out, and all these slave miners moved in, taking over the whole of the north. We spent most of last spring in Domm, with all the survivors in the deep glens down there. People were coming in from all corners, Brig, Lach, and Kell. Ma and Da found me. They just arrived at my tent one morning. They’d heard all about the Mage of Pyre, and realised it must be their crazy daughter, and walked all the way from Kell.’
They shared a laugh. Killop had long thought his parents dead, and the news of their safety seemed to restore a chunk of his life that he hadn’t realised he had been missing.
‘Tell me,’ he said. ‘How did you get captured?’
‘Lizards led us right into a trap,’ she sighed. ‘And I had no Kalayne to warn me.’
‘Kalayne?’ Killop said. ‘What was that old bastard doing there?’
‘He wasn’t there, ya numpty, that’s the point,’ she f
rowned. ‘He left with Kylon in search of the frog-folk thirds back. He’d been helping me fight the Rahain, using his mage sightings to tell me how everything was laid out before we went in and kicked the shit out of them. He would have seen the trap that got me. They had machines that threw great nets made out of chains, then hundreds of soldiers with crossbows came out of nowhere. It was like the bastards were only after me, they just ignored everyone else.’ She shook her head again. ‘Dozens of them jumped me, wrapped me up in chain nets, then dragged me into one of their flying wagons. We were up into the air within seconds. I hadn’t seen at first, but wee Lacey must have chased after me, and jumped on board right before we took off. The last I saw, the lizards were beating the crap out of her. Stupid wee fucker, she should have stayed in Kell.’
‘You were captured in Kell?’
‘Aye,’ she smiled. ‘A few squads of us left Domm and went north at the end of spring. That’s when we started hitting them.’ She laughed.
‘We heard about the raids,’ he said. ‘You’re famous.’
‘Fucking about time too.’
He rattled his chains. ‘If my hands were closer together,’ he said. ‘I’d spark you.’
‘Thanks, wee brother,’ she said, ‘but there would be no point. There’s fuck all to burn in here. By the time the stones got red hot, we’d both be roasted. Ye know, I think the lizards have finally figured out that I can’t make fire from nothing.’
‘Thought they might eventually,’ Killop said. ‘They still know nothing about what I can do, though, we didn’t tell them anything about that.’
‘Speak with them much, did ye?’
‘Aye,’ he said. ‘A bit. They’re not all evil, Keira, just the ones in charge. One of the Rahain slaves was a good friend to us.’
She snorted, and was silent for a moment.
‘What happened to the others in our old squad?’ she said. ‘Conal?’
Killop shook his head. ‘Me, Kallie and Bridget got arrested for trouble-making, and they separated us from the rest of the captives. When I last saw them, both Conal and Koreen were still alive, but fuck knows where they are now.’
‘Kelly?’
‘She died well.’
‘Fuck,’ Keira spat. ‘Old Tornface. She always said she’d never be a slave. Mind you, so did I.’
‘We’re not slaves, Keira,’ he said. ‘We’re prisoners.’
‘Thing is,’ she said, ‘this whole year that’s passed, I’ve been living, thinking you were dead. When I fought, when I slaughtered the lizards, burning whole buildings full of the bastards to the ground, I was doing it in revenge for you. Not just you, of course, for all of Kell, but mostly for you. I’d just about got used to you being dead, and now? Fucksake, Killop, I don’t want to lose you again.’
‘Listen, Keira,’ he whispered. ‘If they want to use you to do something, something wrong, then don’t think of me. Do what’s right, don’t carry out their evil for them.’
Keira lowered her face.
‘What the fuck is evil, anyway?’ she said. ‘I’ve done so much bad shit in my life that others could use that word about me. Is killing unarmed slaves evil? Then I’m already guilty, brother.’
There was a bang at the door, and it opened. Guards filed in, their crossbows level.
‘Don’t worry about me, Killop,’ she said, as soldiers filled the cell. ‘Just stay alive, and keep the others alive too. I’ll come for you once I get out of here.’
Guards put the hood back over Killop’s head.
‘They made a big fucking mistake by not killing me,’ Keira shouted, as he was led out of the cell. ‘Stupid wee arseholes! I’m going to burn this fucking world to the ground, wee brother. Just you fucking wait and see.’
Chapter 21
The Bear and the Bloody Hem
Rahain Capital, Rahain Republic – 14th Day, First Third Spring 505
Laodoc sat alone.
Having wept for days, he now felt numb, and stared at the painted pattern on the living-room wall, an untouched cup of tea sitting cold on the table next to him.
The house was quiet, and seemed too big, just as it had after his divorce. With the Kellach and most of the servants gone, it was nearly empty. He hadn’t gone up to the northern wing since the raid, not wanting to witness the broken and scattered furniture, or see any of the meagre possessions that his captives had once owned.
His captives. His slaves. Killop had looked at him with pity as he had been forced to mumble his humiliating denunciation in the cellblock under the High Senate. Somehow that had made it worse. It would have been easier to have faced his anger.
He kept his left fist clenched, his ragged fingernails cutting into his palm. A couple of servants had suggested that he take a bath, or look to his personal hygiene, but he had ignored them. His unopened mail sat neglected in a growing pile on the table next to the stale cup of tea, added to whenever the post arrived, though the quantity of letters had declined since his arrest. People, he knew, would be distancing themselves from him, despite the official judgement pronouncing his innocence in the whole affair. They would be laughing at him, the soft-hearted old fool who had been deceived by his own slaves. He almost wished that he had known that the terrorist was Killop’s sister.
Simiona had known.
Laodoc lowered his head and started to cry again. He cursed aloud. He knew he should never think of her, as it was the sure route to tears. He closed his eyes, unable to blot out his last sight of her, lying dead on the dirty cell floor where she had been flung by the guards once they had finished with her. From the adjoining cell he had howled his grief, reaching out in vain towards her broken body, his arm stretching through the bars. His fingers had managed to grasp a torn and bloody piece of the hem of her dress, but her skin had lain just out of reach.
He had never desired the death of anyone before in his life, but he wanted to kill those guards. Watch their mocking eyes close forever.
‘Master?’
It was Beoloth, one of the few remaining servants.
Laodoc knew he should respond, but couldn’t summon the will to lift his head.
‘Master,’ Beoloth went on. ‘Your son, Commander Likiat, is here to see you. He’s waiting in the hall. What should I tell him?’
His son. The valiant and noble hero, captor of the savage terrorist.
‘Will I ask him to come back later?’ Beoloth suggested.
Laodoc said nothing.
‘That’s what I’ll do, then,’ Beoloth said, then shuffled out of the room.
He heard the door close, and then moments later the sound of a raised voice came echoing in from the hall.
The door swung open, and Laodoc looked up.
His son, in full uniform, was striding into the room. Behind him, Beoloth stood, shrugging.
‘Dear me, father,’ Likiat said, gazing around in disapproval. ‘Sitting here moping all day? It won’t do, you know.’
He gestured to Beoloth.
‘Servant,’ he called. ‘Fetch us some food, and wine, one of the better bottles.’ He pulled up a chair, and sat opposite Laodoc at the small table.
Laodoc said nothing.
As Beoloth scurried off, Likiat gazed at his father, shaking his head.
‘Let’s see what we can salvage from this mess, shall we.’
‘Why do you care?’ Laodoc rasped, his mouth dry.
‘Part of me doesn’t, you old fool,’ his son said. ‘What were you playing at, living here with Kellach slaves as if they were members of your own family? You’re a laughing stock to the entire city, they even made fun of you in the High Senate. Ruellap and I are coming under a lot of pressure, we…’
‘So you and your brother are worried for your own reputations. I see.’
‘Yes,’ he snapped. ‘To be frank, we are. Ruellap’s career could take a real knock over this, and I’m getting tired of being asked if I knew about the damned slave, as if that was the only way I could have captured the mage. It’s all mea
nt as a big joke of course, but this is the sort of thing that sticks.’
They waited as Beoloth came back in and poured wine into two glasses. He also placed a large platter of food before them.
‘That will be all, servant,’ Likiat said.
Beoloth retreated, a look of relief on his face.
‘What do you want me to do?’ Laodoc said.
Likiat poked about the food for a moment, and took a sip of wine.
‘Go to the City Council, father,’ he said. ‘Apologise, admit you were wrong, and announce your immediate retirement. The moment you do so, the other councillors will forget all about your foolishness, and rally round. Once they’re sure you’re going, it’ll all be back-slapping, and “for he’s a jolly good fellow”. Then retire to Slateford Estate, and let the rest of us move on.’
Laodoc sat in silence. Giving up seemed the easiest thing in the world to do.
‘How did they find out?’ he said. ‘No one ever told me that.’
Likiat looked annoyed at the change of subject, and took another drink.
‘Apparently one of your slaves, the girl, was overheard talking about it,’ he said after a while, as he picked at a leg of roast poultry. ‘So they examined the dossier that I compiled during my first tour against the mage. I had included a section on what we knew about her personal life at the time, and the name of her brother was in there. Once they saw it was the same name as one of your Kellach slaves, they moved in.’
‘Who overheard her?’
‘I don’t know the details,’ Likiat said, ‘but it’s no secret that the information was brought to the High Senate’s attention by the merchant, Lady Douanna.’
Laodoc stirred.
‘It was her?’ he hissed, his eyes narrowing, and tongue flickering. ‘She betrayed me?’
‘Betrayed is a little strong, father,’ he said, raising an eyebrow at the change in Laodoc’s demeanour. ‘She did her duty, and was well rewarded for her trouble, elevated all the way to the ranks of the City Council.’
The Magelands Box Set Page 27
