He had nothing of hers, not a lock of hair, a memento, nothing. As if she had never existed.
Just a memory of brief passion, and the ache in his heart.
He knew he would never love anyone else they way he loved Daphne. He should never have parted from her in the caverns under the Tyrant’s Tower in the Rahain capital. So stupid. If he had been with her, then things would have worked out differently, and now he had nothing.
He looked down over the edge of the ridge.
One jump, and he could end the pain.
No. There were better things he could do with it.
Faces turned towards Killop as he walked back into the caves. He knew he must look rough, but didn’t care. He went straight to Dominic’s chamber, and knocked.
The Domm came to the door.
‘Boss, you’re back,’ he said. ‘You look freezing, come in.’
Killop followed Dominic into the small cave. Around the hearth in the centre of the stone floor sat his partner Dyam, a young Domm warrior. She glanced up at Killop, the glow of the fire reflecting off her light-blonde hair and pale features.
‘I’m so sorry, boss,’ she said.
He nodded. ‘I need to speak to you, Dominic.’
‘Alone?’ He gestured to Dyam.
‘Doesn’t matter,’ he said. He sat by the fire, warming his hands and watching the thin stream of smoke escape through the chimney in the cave’s roof.
Dyam looked unsure, but remained where she was. Dominic squatted down beside her.
‘I’m staying,’ Killop said.
The two Domm shared a glance.
‘I’m going to take Kylon’s counsel, and build an army,’ Killop went on. ‘I’ll command it, and I’ll lead the uprising. We’ll free every slave we find, and kill every enemy. Dominic, you’ll be one of my captains. And you, Dyam, you’re about the smartest person in the camp, you’ll be one of my officers too. If you wish.’
He gazed at them.
‘Tell me now,’ he said, ‘will this be enough for you? Will you follow me if I stay?’
‘This isn’t what we agreed, Killop,’ Dominic said.
‘I know.’
‘And if it’s not enough?’
‘Then we take it to the rest of the group and let them vote on it,’ Killop replied. ‘Loser leaves.’
Dominic poked the fire with a stick. ‘Back in Domm,’ he said, ‘I was a squad leader. It’s the best feeling in the world to lead fine warriors, but I used to look at the leaders of the army, and saw the burdens that bore them down. You’re a good man, Killop. I will follow you.’
‘As will I,’ Dyam said.
Killop nodded. ‘Thank you.’
Dominic stood. ‘Let’s tell the others.’
They got to their feet, and opened the cave’s wooden door. Outside, the rest of the group had gathered, waiting. Near the front stood Kylon and Bridget.
Dominic took a step forward.
‘Killop is staying,’ he said, hushing the expectant faces. He turned, took hold of Killop’s arm, and raised it high. ‘Killop will lead us; he is the chief of our clan.’ He got to one knee.
The others also knelt, until Killop was the only one left standing.
‘I pledge my loyalty to Chief Killop ae Kellan ae Kell,’ Dominic called out. ‘May he lead us to victory!’
Four days later, the raiding party left the camp.
Leading the squad through the narrow ravines to the Rahain mine felt like being back in Kell. Kylon knew the route, and he and Killop resumed their ability to understand each other as if they had never been apart.
They travelled for the whole day, reaching the vicinity of the mine at nightfall. Kylon took them up paths that crept along the edge of a small river that ran by the mine, until they could see the compound through the branches of the trees on the hillside.
There were several shabby buildings, constructed around a minehead, its tall wooden frame towering into the sky. A high wall enclosed the compound, except on its northern side, which was shielded by cliffs. There were two entrances. A large pair of gates stood on the main road, while a smaller door on the other side of the compound led to a guard tower.
Kylon’s plan could be summed up in one word: Baoryn.
The renegade Rahain was going to walk into the camp, Kylon had said, and then they would wait.
Baoryn’s face wore its usual expressionless features as he prepared to go, and he looked neither nervous nor excited to be heading into grave danger. He removed every non-standard item from his clothing, stripping down to the basic drab brown army tunic. Leah had cropped his hair back at the camp, the Rahain allowing only her hands to touch him.
When he was ready, he nodded to Kylon, and jogged down through the trees to the path that led to the side-gate.
Killop crouched by the ridge, trying not to think of Daphne, trying to keep his mind busy.
‘What’s he going to do when he gets inside?’ he asked Kylon, who was lying to his left.
‘He’ll work that out when he gets there.’
‘And that’s your fucking plan?’ Bridget said.
‘Baoryn is good at thinking on his feet,’ he replied. ‘He’s done this sort of thing before.’
‘How long will he be?’
‘Depends what he decides to do,’ Kylon said, closing his eyes. ‘Wake me when something happens.’
Bridget smiled and shook her head.
They waited.
Bridget rubbed her hands, her breath fogging in the cold night. The sound of Kylon’s gentle snoring rose through the still air.
‘How you feeling?’ she whispered to Killop.
‘Like I’m ready to fucking explode, Bridget.’
‘You don’t look it,’ she said. ‘You look like you used to, when you were commanding us in Kell. Confident and that. You bottling it up, then?’
‘Did none of it matter, Bridget? Was it all for nothing?’
‘Of course not,’ she said. ‘You loved her, that’s never nothing. And on a purely practical level, she saved our lives when she rescued us from prison. If it weren’t for that, you wouldn’t be able to set things right.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘What Keira did,’ she said. ‘If it’s true. When everyone discovers, our people will be shamed. They will despair when they hear the news. Our own fire mage, it’s too much to take. She was our hope.’
He lowered his head.
‘You’re her brother,’ Bridget went on. ‘Only you can make things right. Only you can lead us, lead the Kellach slaves of Rahain in revolt, and either triumph, or die in the attempt. Only by doing this will we regain our honour, the honour of the Kellach Brigdomin.’
He shook his head. ‘It’s too much for me.’
‘Then do it for Daphne,’ she said. ‘Make her life mean something. Because of her we’re alive and free. When you fight, fight for her.’
Killop looked away, closing his eyes to keep them from filling.
He nodded, and felt Bridget’s hand on his shoulder.
A low whistle sounded along the ridge, and Killop opened his eyes. Leah was gesturing over at the side-gate, where a lamp was flashing.
He shook Kylon awake.
‘There’s our signal.’
Blood streamed from the pile of Rahain dead, as the last body was thrown on.
The plan had worked.
Baoryn had opened the side-gate, and the squad had padded through, to wreak silent slaughter upon the soldiers guarding the compound. Twenty-two corpses. Dyam’s crossbow team, along with Leah and Larissa, had rained down death from the walls, while the sword team had carved its way through barracks of sleeping Rahain.
Dominic had done a count, and eighty-nine ex-slaves now stood before Killop, gazing up at him as he mounted the steps to the camp’s headquarters. To his left stood Kylon and Bridget, to his right Dominic and Larissa.
Below, the rest of his squad were distributing food and water from the stores they had liberated. Many of the slaves looked to be near
death, gaunt and emaciated. Sores and lesions covered several, and faces bent with pain and servitude squinted up at him.
Killop gazed back, wishing that someone else would do the talking.
He swallowed.
‘Your time of slavery is over,’ he said. ‘You’re free.’
The ex-slaves muttered, some shaking their heads, others lighting up with hope.
‘Where are we supposed to go?’ one called out.
‘You have a choice,’ Killop said. ‘You can follow me, or you can choose to go your own way.’
‘Why would we follow you?’
Killop glanced at Bridget. She caught his eyes, and nodded.
‘What we did tonight,’ she said, stepping forward, ‘is only the beginning. We’re going to raid every slave camp in these mountains, free every Kellach Brigdomin captive. Tonight, Chief Killop is planting the flag of rebellion, and calls upon you to join us. Together, we’ll lead the greatest uprising the lizards have ever known, and we’ll bring terror into their cold hearts. The more warriors we gather, the stronger we’ll become, until nowhere in these mountains is safe for them.’
‘They’ll send an army to hunt us down.’
‘Of course they will,’ Bridget said, ‘and we’ll smash it when it comes. We, the Kellach Brigdomin, are the masters of fighting in the mountains, and all the ranks of Rahain conscripts in the world wouldn’t be enough to defeat us. We’ll strike them hard, again and again, here in their own homeland. We’ll burn down their farms, and level their mines, and gain some vengeance for what they did to us.’
‘You’re insane, they’ll kill us all.’
‘I don’t believe that,’ Killop said. ‘We’re better than them. We can beat them.’
‘I’m with you!’
‘It’s suicide.’
‘No one here is under any obligation,’ Bridget said. ‘As the chief said, you’re all free to choose. We’ll share out the supplies fairly, and if you decide to leave on your own, you’ll each take a full pack of provisions with you. But, if you choose to join our force, we’ll be heading north in the morning, back to our base, where you can rest and recover, while we plan the next raid.’
Killop gazed at the ex-slaves. The long memory of subjugation was seared into their faces.
‘Anyone who wants to join,’ he said, ‘can stay here tonight, and I’ll hear your oaths at dawn. Until then, rest. My warriors will guard the walls tonight.’
As Killop stepped down to the ground, Kylon tapped his shoulder.
‘We’ll also be leaving at dawn.’
‘Already?’
‘I need to find your sister,’ Kylon said. ‘I need to know the truth.’
‘Would it make any difference to the way you feel about her?’
‘No,’ he said, ‘I admit it. I’ll love her until my dying breath, no matter what she does. But I still need to know.’
‘When you find her,’ he said, ‘tell her I love her. Tell her I’ll always be her brother.’
Kylon nodded.
‘She needs you,’ Killop said. ‘No matter why she did what she did, there’s a shitstorm headed her way. You’ve got to get to her before the Rahain make her do anything else.’
He gripped his friend’s shoulder.
‘I know how hard it must have been for you to bring me the news about Daphne,’ he said, ‘but it’s better that I know. At least now I can avenge her.’
‘Don’t let your desire for revenge change you,’ Kylon said. ‘Remember who you are.’
Killop shook his head. ‘Half my soul died with Daphne, and what’s left is filled with hate. I will bring death to the Rahain for what they have done. I swear it.’
Kylon closed his mouth and looked away, his eyes dark.
Chapter 5
Bloodletting
Black Hills, Sanang/Plateau Frontier – 1st Day, Second Third Summer 505
The prisoner was brought forth, dragged by two warriors. The Holdings man did not resist. His head lolled, and his legs trailed through the dirt. Blood stained his ragged clothing, and his dark skin was covered in weals and ugly bruises.
A sharp wind gusted across the face of the mountain valley, where the army had assembled that dawn. Agang stood at its head, flanked by Badolecht Nang, his high mage, and Mandalecht Naro, his commander. A yard in front of them a long line had been cut into the soft earth, a line that marked the border between Sanang and the Plateau. It was a fiction, Agang knew, he had just picked a spot that looked suitable on a scout’s map. Somewhere big enough to hold the entire army, and to ensure that everyone could see the small group of men standing by the borderline.
As the two warriors approached, the wind blew aside the prisoner’s hair, allowing a glimpse of his face. The young man’s features were beaten and cut. His eyes were open, but showed nothing but silent fear.
When the morning sun appeared over the crest of the mountains to their east, Badolecht drew a long curved knife from his belt. The warriors hoisted the prisoner onto their shoulders, and carried him to the border. They halted when their feet reached the line, holding the prisoner’s body out over it.
Badolecht swept forward, raising his hand so the army could see the knife, then reached under the prisoner and gutted him from neck to navel in one swift motion, the man’s innards spilling out onto both sides of the line. The man shrieked his death wail, and fell silent. The warriors dropped him to the ground, his legs in Sanang, his torso and head resting on the Plateau.
The army cheered, a great raucous roar of guttural triumph.
Agang smiled. He had mocked Hodang when he had approached him with a plan for enacting a ritual at the border. He had been particularly put off by the idea of sacrificing a captive to the gods in honour of their crossing, but now he saw the value of it.
Agang stepped forward. Not in centuries, if ever, had a Sanang army crossed its own frontier.
And now he, Agang Garo, was the first to do it.
Amid a great cheer, he drew his sword, stepped over the body of the dead prisoner, and planted his feet on the Plateau. He bent down, scooped up a handful of bloody earth, and held it aloft.
The rapturous crowd hailed him, and he knew at that moment he would be their king.
His personal guard followed him across the border, and he watched as they set up a small platform from prefabricated pieces. Hodang’s final touch. It was assembled in minutes, and Agang ascended the wooden steps and sat in the raised chair, from where he could view the broad path where the army would cross. First to make the passage would be one of his own eight regiments, led by Mandalecht, followed by the warriors of his allies, with his other seven regiments interspersed throughout the long procession.
His commanders and advisers gathered on the platform around him. Echtang was beaming at the sight of the army forming itself into ranks, ready to begin the crossing. Drums sounded. The troops cheered, and began marching. As they passed the platform, the warriors of Agang’s regiment turned and saluted.
‘You command their utter loyalty, my lord,’ a voice whispered in his ear. ‘They adore you.’
‘Not now, Hodang,’ Agang said. ‘Watching this is enough. If I have to listen to your flattery as well, my head might explode.’
‘Very well, my lord.’ Hodang said. ‘Good job earlier, I thought.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Next time, we could perhaps release some birds, symbolic of…’
‘Next time? I was hoping this was the only time our warriors have to cross the border.’
‘I wouldn’t say that too loudly, my lord. There are some here who see this as the first of many such incursions.’
Agang shook his head. He missed governing his lands, and never stopped worrying about what was going on in his absence. Just a quick raid, to gain the minimum amount of revenge and loot to satisfy the massed killers marching before him. Then home.
The army took the entire day to pass, as Hodang had predicted. Over twenty thousand warriors, the largest Sanang army to
gather in generations. Despite boredom and exhaustion, Agang maintained his solemn expression throughout, helped by Hodang passing him a small stick of keenweed every few hours.
As the last soldiers filed past, he let out a long breath. The rearmost detachment was a group of his own Household Guards, and he stepped down from the platform.
The warriors escorted him across the hillside, to where the army was camped for the night. The warriors were feasting and drinking, enjoying the liberal amount of food and alcohol that had been distributed. In the centre of the camp stood the tents of the allied chiefs, and Agang’s own personal quarters, joined by a canvas door to a vast feasting tent that took fifteen wagons to haul through the mountains.
Inside, the captains, lords and officers of the army were celebrating in Sanang fashion. Fumes of narcotics billowed up from water-pipes and heroic quantities of alcohol were being consumed. Drums sounded as Agang crossed the threshold, and the hundred men inside let out a loud cheer.
Agang strode between the tables, where his allies and captains jostled to salute him. He reached the high table at the far end, and was seated at its centre, his inner circle placed next to him. He listened as each of the chiefs toasted him and the army, then the food arrived, from servants bearing heaped trays.
He stayed long enough to be respectful, then beckoned to the others at the table. They stood and followed him through the rear of the tent to a more intimate room in his own quarters.
‘I’m glad that’s over,’ Agang said, falling into his cushioned chair, the dull noise of drums and laughter filtering through from the feasting hall. A servant placed a cup in his hand.
‘It was worth it,’ Hodang said, picking up a ledger from a table next to him as he sat. ‘Every warrior will remember this day. And they will all remember the man who first crossed the frontier.’
‘I felt it was a little over the top, personally,’ Badolecht said, drinking wine and smoking dreamweed.
‘I don’t recall any reluctance in your performance this morning,’ Hodang said.
‘I was just putting the poor bugger out of his misery,’ the mage replied. ‘Did you see the condition he was in?’
The Magelands Box Set Page 50
