He reached the chamber, holding onto the wall of the tunnel, and looked inside.
A man was sitting on a stone bench, his head in his hands, his Rahain uniform covered in dust and blood. Another man was standing by him.
Killop charged forward. With his left hand he grabbed the standing man, and with his right he plunged the broken blade into his chest. He fell to his knees as he forced the man to the ground.
He looked up as the officer raised his head.
‘You,’ said Likiat.
‘Aye.’
Killop pushed the dead Rahain aside and stared at Likiat.
‘I thought it might be you,’ he said ‘I thought the Rahain might send Laodoc’s son to catch his slave.’
‘I volunteered,’ Likiat said, gazing back at Killop with defiant loathing. ‘My father is a traitor, hated by everyone who loves Rahain.’
Killop got to his feet.
‘The senate will send another army,’ Likiat said. ‘Your slave rebellion…’
Killop surged forwards and slammed the broken sword through Likiat’s heart, watching as the life in his eyes went out.
‘He might have been useful alive,’ a woman’s voice said from the entrance to the chamber.
He turned to see Larissa walking towards him. Her clothes were ragged, and she had blood running down the side of her face and neck.
Killop let go of the hilt, and Likiat slipped off the stone bench and onto the floor.
‘It was personal.’
Larissa came to stand by him, and looked down at the body.
‘The exits are blocked,’ she said. ‘Might be a while before we get out of here.’
‘The battle will be raging, we should…’
She put a finger to his lips.
‘I think you’ve done enough for today, Chief,’ she said. ‘The Rahain are beaten, let the others finish them off.’
She took his left hand, and put it behind her waist.
She stepped closer.
Killop gazed down into her face. After so much blood and death, the warmth of her body as she pressed it close to his awoke something in him, a desire to live, a relief, a wild relief that they had survived.
‘We’re alive,’ she whispered, and kissed him.
The sound of grinding stone awoke Killop, and he opened his eyes. Next to him lay Larissa, sleeping by his side. He couldn’t see her in the darkness of the chamber, but he heard her breathing.
The patter of footsteps approached and he sat up. A beam of light shone through the doorway, and Killop squinted into its sudden brightness.
‘It’s him,’ a voice said. ‘It’s the chief, we’ve found him!’
Killop blinked. Three Kellach warriors stood in the entranceway before him, one holding a powerful storm lamp. He nudged Larissa with his elbow and rearranged his clothing.
A figure pushed between the warriors at the doorway.
‘Thank fuck,’ Bridget said. ‘We thought you…’ she tailed off as she noticed the woman lying by his side.
Larissa frowned, and sat up, pulling a ragged tunic over her breasts.
As Bridget began to smile, Tiel entered the chamber.
‘Chief!’ he cried. ‘You are alive, thank the fates. The day is ours, we were victorious! The traps, the fires, it all worked. And the clan Rahain, chief, you will be so proud of the way they fought.’
Killop nodded.
Bridget noticed the two Rahain bodies lying by the bench to her left.
‘Is that the Rahain commander?’ she asked.
‘Aye,’ Killop said. ‘Laodoc’s son. I killed him.’
She gazed down at Killop and Larissa. ‘You did what you had to, I guess.’
Chapter 21
The Handover
Rainsby, Alliance-Occupied Plateau – 5th Day, First Third Winter 505
‘Take that off, Echtang,’ Agang snarled from his elevated chair. ‘It’s no wonder the Holdings think we’re barbarians, when our warriors parade through the streets with those things round their necks.’
His nephew’s expression was sullen, but he did as Agang ordered, and removed the necklace of Rahain forked tongues from over his shoulder, while Hodang and Lomecht looked away.
‘Just one more day in this town, my lord,’ Hodang said. ‘Praise the gods.’
‘There is only one god worth praising.’
‘Ah yes,’ Hodang said. ‘Apologies, my lord, of course.’
His temper made them humour him, and that only enraged him more.
Unable to bear the sight of his advisors a moment longer, he stood, and left the room, climbing the wooden stairs at the rear of the town hall to the terrace on the roof. An icy wind howled through his furs and layers of clothes, and a thick frost covered the ruins of Rainsby.
He looked north, where the frozen harbour held the Holdings fleet fast in sheets of ice, the masts and decks glistening white. They had lost two vessels in a storm on the way, and over five hundred soldiers from the King’s Combined Battalion had gone down with them: Sanang, Holdings and Clackdomyn.
The remaining three and a half thousand had been enough, however, to assault and take the harbour, and the stretch of sea wall that ran to the gates on the western side of the town. Resistance had been fierce, from the town militia and the Rahain garrison, but the mixed companies had held their own, and repelled every effort to re-take their positions.
Five days later, the main alliance armies had arrived along the western road, over sixty thousand soldiers and warriors. The others had allowed the Sanang to take the lead, and with the gate on that side of the town held open, they flooded through the streets in minutes, killing anyone who got in their way. The slaughter and destruction had lasted three days, while the Holdings Cavalry moved past the town to occupy the southern road, and the Clackdomyn attempted to keep their brethren in the enormous slum-camp from getting involved.
The peasants in the slums to the south of the town had fled when the alliance had turned up, but the Rahain trapped inside the walls had not been so lucky. By the fourth sunrise, when the carnage had ended, the enslaved survivors numbered in their hundreds, thousands having perished at the hands of the Sanang.
His Sanang.
He gazed over the devastation his warriors had wrought. Barely a quarter of the buildings were untouched and intact, the rest were either gutted out, or had been razed to the ground. The frost lay thick on the burnt-out shells of homes, and covered the muddy streets that had flowed with blood.
The wealth looted from the town had been astonishing. Vaults of gold coins and treasure lay beneath the town hall, and were now heavily guarded, while the merchants’ quarter had provided a rich haul for his warriors. Squads of soldiers from the mixed companies had been dispatched to guard the long warehouses lining the sea-front by the harbour, to protect the thousands of tonnes of sugar, tea, coffee, timber, iron and a hundred other trading commodities from thieving hands.
On the fourth day after their arrival, several tonnes of Sanang weed had been burnt in a bonfire by Holdings soldiers, and the town knew a peaceful night, sedated by the thick smog of fumes that blew back over the ruins.
When the flames had died down, the main alliance army had continued south along the road towards the tunnel, leaving Agang and the high command behind to plan the next stages.
‘Brooding again?’ he heard a woman say.
He turned his head and saw Chane standing by the rooftop railings. ‘You need to control your temper better,’ she said. ‘A king must have unlimited patience, and exude calm, even if inside he is boiling over with rage.’
He gazed at her. She looked stunning, a picture of regal serenity. Her spirits had lifted recently, from about when the fleet had departed Plateau City. She seemed bolder now, as if she was clearing out a space for her own authority. She no longer hid in his quarters, but attended meetings at his side, including those with the Holdings and Clackdomyn. He liked her new assertiveness, for it was obvious in everything she did that she was acting
for his best interests, proving her usefulness and loyalty to him all over again.
‘You’re right,’ he said, ‘though at least I’ve learned to walk away, rather than take it out on those around me. That must count as progress.’
‘True,’ she said, ‘but they worry in your absence, like lost hens.’ She gazed out over the ruins. ‘Are you regretting the sack again?’
‘Always,’ he said. ‘The screams of those being tortured and burnt alive never leave my dreams.’
‘It was the price of the alliance,’ she said. ‘Without it to dangle in front of the allied chiefs, many wouldn’t have followed you here.’
‘Maybe I would have been better off without them,’ he said. ‘Half of our sixteen thousand warriors are mine; maybe I should have sent the rest home.’
‘No,’ she said. ‘What do you think they would do in Sanang, while you are away for the rest of the campaign? You cannot trust them to support Gadang in Broadwater. It’s bad enough that B’Dang got away.’
‘Don’t say his name to me.’
‘I know you lost face with the Holdings over his escape,’ she said, ‘but they’ll forget that, and Rainsby, when you march in triumph through the streets of Rahain.’
Agang smiled.
‘The army will be reaching the tunnel in a few days,’ she went on, ‘and the Holdings advance scouts might already be there. Their squad mages should be able to get a message to us soon, maybe even before we leave Rainsby tomorrow.’
‘The vision powers of your people remain a source of fascination to me,’ he said. ‘The ability to communicate over long distances, it transforms the way war is fought. I have an insight now into how you were able to beat us so easily, at least in the first two years of your invasion.’
Chane lit a cigarette. ‘None of you ever talk about your own mages. Why is it such a secret?’
‘Have you forgotten all the times Badolecht has healed you?’ he asked. ‘The power of our mages is all around us. Battlefield healers, and hedgewitches banishing sickness and injury from the camp. We don’t talk about it because it seems so normal to us. It was only when I first saw wounded Holdings soldiers that I realised not all peoples have the power to heal.’
‘So there are healers,’ she said. ‘Is that it? I mean I know there are lesser mages who can bend tree branches, and make shrubs move aside, but is that the sum total of Sanang magery?’
He frowned, and turned to the dead town.
‘I spoke of this once with Daphne Holdfast,’ he said. ‘I will not do so again.’
‘I don’t remember her telling me anything,’ she said, ‘but I was drunk most of the time.’
He stared at the blackened buildings, crowned in a glittering coat of white.
‘There are other powers,’ he said. ‘Dark powers. That’s all I will say.’
‘All right, I won’t press you on it.’
She smoked her cigarette, and they leaned against the railings in silence. Agang looked over the town walls, and saw the long road south, along which horse-drawn carriages would be taking them the next morning. Down there was the fabled Rahain tunnel, spoken of in hushed tones by Holdings intelligence officers, and their cantankerous old pet Rahain, Laodoc.
‘I want to talk to you about the meeting we had with the council of eight yesterday evening,’ Chane said. ‘Do you remember?’
‘Yes.’
‘What do you think?’
‘It’s fine for the Holdings,’ he said, ‘and for the Clackdomyn, and I have no objections to whatever changes the alliance want to make to the laws of Rahain, but the Sanang are different. I cannot take this proposal to the other chiefs, they would never accept the abolition of slavery.’
‘If you were king you could command it, and it would be so.’
‘My people will never agree to it.’
‘What people? The free ones? What about the others?’
Agang said nothing.
‘Do you have any idea what proportion of Sanang are slaves?’
He frowned.
‘Well,’ she said, ‘do you?’
‘I’ve never counted.’
‘Would you be surprised to learn that I have?’ She turned away, blowing out cigarette smoke in a narrow stream.
‘What’s the answer?’ he said. ‘How many are slaves?’
‘About a third of your people. Including me. Don’t forget me.’
‘That’s more than I thought,’ he said. ‘I don’t really look at them, they’re just… everywhere.’
‘Imagine I wasn’t a slave,’ she said, ‘and instead I was your consort, or queen. You’ll be king soon. Do you want to rule over slaves, or free people?’
He smiled. ‘If you put it like that the choice seems easy. Somehow I think the reality would be more complicated. It could take a generation of slow change to achieve the kind of society the Holdings have, where no man is a slave.’
‘Then you can begin the process.’
‘I’ll consider it,’ he said. ‘If you recall, Laodoc was only too eager to teach me the economics of freedom.’
‘He’s a clever man,’ she said, ‘you should listen to him.’
‘He’s a fool,’ Agang said, ‘being played by the Holdings like a bad set of bagpipes. He has that air of arrogance common to his people. He looks down on us like we were shit he had trodden on.’
‘Those who refuse to learn are the arrogant ones,’ she said. ‘Don’t close your ears to what he says because it’s in a patronising tone. Rise above it, and embrace all the information he has to give. He has studied the routes of the tunnel system through the mountains, he has drawn up detailed maps of the entire area, he has provided…’
‘Enough,’ he said. ‘I take your point. It’s hard though. Sanang childhood is filled with tales of the treacherous serpents of the forest, and his eyes, his tongue…’ He grimaced. ‘Like a snake.’
Chane raised an eyebrow.
‘I know it’s irrational,’ he said. ‘I promise I’ll try.’
‘He’ll be at the handover this afternoon,’ Chane said. ‘Make sure you behave.’
‘I will be the very model of magnanimity.’
Chane smiled. ‘And remember to say “we” instead of “I”. You’ll be speaking for your people and nation.’
‘I don’t think I’m ready for that. I can imagine the looks I’ll get.’
‘You’ll have to start some time.’
He frowned and looked away. ‘We will try.’
Chane laughed.
‘May our beloved Creator watch over this gathering,’ the young priest said, as everyone in the hall hushed. ‘May he bestow his blessings upon us, and guide our way.’
The new governor, a tall, thin dark-skinned Holdings woman, glanced over at Agang.
He stepped forward, and handed her the ceremonial key to the town.
‘I hereby proclaim,’ a Holdings herald cried, ‘that the town of Rainsby and its environs, and all materials and property within, are now under the authority and protection of the Realm of the Holdings, and his Royal Majesty King Guilliam the third.’
There was a smattering of applause from the Holdings delegates in the room, while the Sanang and Clackdomyn listened in silence.
‘As governor of Rainsby,’ the tall woman said, ‘I will take immediate steps to stabilise the food supply and security of the town. The refugee camp will be emptied and the Kellach Brigdomin will be moved to within the walls, where they will be easier to feed and police. They will be put to work, rebuilding the homes and streets that were destroyed in the sack. Any riots or violent protests will be treated as acts of insurrection against the crown, and will be suppressed without mercy.’
She met Agang’s eyes.
‘Lord Agang,’ she said, ‘on behalf of his Majesty and the realm, I give thanks for your just and honourable stewardship of the town. The port of Rainsby is now an integral part of the alliance, and for that we owe much to the gallant efforts of your men.’
Agang no
dded, mortified with embarrassment, unsure if the woman was mocking him.
‘Now,’ she went on, raising her hands, ‘let us join together to celebrate the handover of the town, and to say farewell to our Sanang friends, who will be departing in the morning, to re-join their brethren and the rest of the alliance army.’
Agang could sense a wave of relief pulse through the Holdings present in the hall, as they imagined the town being rid of the last Sanang. Waiters went through the room, offering water, tea and cigarettes to the delegates.
Chane stood by his side as Agang endured a dozen handshakes and countless insincere words from his Holdings allies. He kept his face passive, and his responses minimal, until Chane nudged him, signalling that they had spent the requisite amount of time without appearing rude. As they turned to leave, someone tapped Agang on the shoulder.
Agang sighed. ‘Laodoc,’ he said, ‘I thought you were coming with us tomorrow? We don’t need to say any farewells.’
‘Quite, Lord Agang,’ Laodoc said, ‘but that was not the reason for me approaching you. I have given considerable thought to some of the questions you raised regarding the feasibility of emancipating slaves, and the financial implications of such a policy. I was wondering if you had the time to go over it with me before we depart. If you are too busy, then I could leave you a copy of my plans to read on the journey.’ Laodoc frowned, his tongue flickering. ‘I’m making the assumption that you can read.’
‘Do you think I’m a fool?’
‘A man without letters can still be wise,’ Laodoc said, his face reddening. ‘I meant no offence. I was under the impression that the Sanang, like the Kellach Brigdomin, have not valued literacy within their societies.’
‘Of course I can read.’
‘My lord,’ Laodoc bowed, ‘again, I meant no offence.’
‘You can take your plans,’ Agang spat, ‘and your assumptions, and shove them up your reptilian arse.’
He turned, his eyes dark, and stormed from the hall, Chane rushing after him.
The Magelands Box Set Page 73
