The Magelands Box Set

by Christopher Mitchell

  The Kellach Brigdomin allies had been seen, several thousand strong, marching to the north of the Holdings cavalry. Another group had appeared to the south, with twice as many warriors as the Kellach, but the scouts had not recognised them.

  Lying in wait for these grand armies, the scouts had said, were the city defences, a row of artillery units, heavy catapults, and smaller ballista, capable of hurling steel bolts as large as pikes.

  Killop began to hear a low roar come over the wind, the sound of cries and metal.

  Larissa sprinted up to him, the young boy mage following in her tracks.

  ‘Take Dean and your companies, and attack from the far side,’ Killop said. ‘Begin the assault as soon as you see smoke.’

  ‘Aye, Chief,’ she said, then peeled off to the right, her arm raised. ‘Eagle and bear,’ she cried. ‘Follow me.’

  Four hundred warriors diverted from the path, and ran after Larissa, across the shoulder of the ridge.

  Killop nodded to Kalden. ‘We need to get closer.’

  They kept running, down the slope due west. Ahead, they saw a scout crouching by the top of a cliff. She waved to them. The noise of battle was now unmistakable.

  ‘Chief,’ she nodded as Killop neared the edge. The warriors of Kalden’s companies slowed to a halt behind him on the hillside.

  Killop crouched in the deep snow by the scout, and looked over the cliff. Below was a long, wide terrace, cut into the side of the ridge. On it were dozens of machines, launching boulders, or loosing bolts down off the ridge and into the great mass of soldiers on the plain beneath. Great holes were being ripped through the Holdings lines before they could even engage the Rahain forces, the front ranks of which were visible over the edge of the ridge.

  Killop glanced at Kalden and Lilyann.

  ‘Build the fire.’

  Each warrior in Kalden’s two companies had been carrying a bundle of firewood, gathered from one of the last forests they had passed through on the way to the capital. They dumped it all in a pile on a low flat space twenty paces from the edge of the cliff.

  ‘You ready?’ he asked Lilyann.

  She kept her eyes on the great plain below, where the Holdings army was advancing, despite the terrible damage being inflicted from the ridge. She was wearing a long black coat, and was hugging herself.

  She nodded.

  ‘Nothing fancy,’ he said. ‘Just drop it on their heads.’

  ‘Aye, Chief,’ she whispered, looking anxious, and younger than her fifteen years.

  ‘Wood’s ready,’ Kalden said.

  Killop walked over to the shoulder-high pile of branches.

  ‘Reinforce Larissa,’ he said. ‘There’s no way down the cliff from this side.’

  ‘Aye, Chief.’

  As Kalden walked away, Killop gestured to Tiel.

  ‘Guard the fire mage,’ he said. ‘Form a wall around her, and don’t let anything get close.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  Tiel called his Rahain shieldwall down from the hillside, and they formed their ranks around Lilyann, Killop, and the unlit bonfire, their shields and crossbows facing outwards.

  Killop gazed over the plain. Shining cavalry troopers were being cut down as they charged, by the incessant attack from the ridge. Over to the left, he saw the unidentified force, on foot like the Kellach, racing across the snow.

  ‘What are you waiting for?’ Lilyann said.

  ‘Giving Larissa time to get into position.’

  ‘Every moment you wait, more down there are killed.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Don’t you care?’

  ‘I care.’

  ‘I don’t think I can do this.’

  ‘You can,’ he said. ‘I’ve seen you do it.’

  ‘The cavern was easy compared to this. This is too much.’

  She closed her eyes and shook her head.

  ‘And I’m a mess. ‘

  ‘You’re a Kellach Brigdomin fire mage,’ he said. ‘Black suits you.’

  ‘What if I fail?’

  ‘You might,’ he said. ‘So what? Everyone fails sometimes. You pick yourself up and try again.’

  He walked over to the unlit bonfire, and knelt on the snow. Lilyann joined him as he raised his hands by the woodpile.

  ‘Did you ever spark for Keira?’ she asked.

  ‘A few times,’ he said. ‘Mostly when we were younger. Her power was too much for me. I had to stop.’ He turned to her. ‘I know your sister died in the war. Was she a sparker?’

  Lilyann shrugged. ‘Never got a chance to find out. She died before I knew I was a mage.’

  He beckoned her over. ‘Come on then. You light the fire from me.’

  ‘Do you mean that, Chief?’

  ‘Of course. I trust you.’

  Her eyes widened. He thought she was going to refuse, but she nodded, and got closer.

  He focussed, and felt the energy build in his hands. He brought them closer together until the palms were almost touching, and the space between ignited in a burst of sparks. He pulled his hands a foot apart, and lightning arced across the space.

  Lilyann frowned, her face set hard in concentration, and raised her right hand.

  Killop closed his eyes as her power met his.

  In an instant he remembered the first time he had sparked for Keira, when they had been sixteen, not long after she had returned from being trained in the mountains. The energy she had unleashed that day had nearly killed him. He had been unconscious for three days, and weakened and blind for several more after he had awoken.

  This time, the force from Lilyann was lesser, but he still felt the pull, the tug of his life being sucked out towards the flames. The sparks between his hands coiled and combined, and Lilyann shot a flash at the bonfire, and it erupted into flame.

  ‘Ha!’ she laughed, her voice like a brass bell.

  He opened his eyes, extinguishing his power.

  ‘That was amazing,’ she said, grinning. ‘I could feel you, I could feel the energy flowing out from you into the fire, and I took it, and used it…’

  She gazed at her hands.

  Killop stood, his head pounding and his mouth dry.

  ‘I can do this, Chief,’ she said.

  He nodded, and stood back, the bonfire blazing. The snow was melting in a circle around the flames, and Lilyann started to pace, flexing her fingers. She walked to the edge of the cliff, peered down, then returned to the fire.

  She stretched out her arms, and began to raise them. A ball of flame the size of a wagon lifted up and hovered over the young mage. Sweating and straining under the burden, she flung her arms over her head in the direction of the terrace, and the fireball followed, soaring through the sky like a shooting star.

  Killop ran to the edge as the fireball smashed into the ground below, landing between two catapults, and setting both alight. Rahain soldiers ran in terror, some on fire. At the far end of the terrace he could see signs of another disturbance, as Larissa’s warriors attacked.

  He smiled. ‘Perfect, Lilyann. Again.’

  He turned. Lilyann was down on one knee, her head lowered, while the bonfire raged behind her. He ran back, and helped her up.

  ‘Again,’ he said. ‘Further if you can.’

  She stumbled, and he held her upright. He reached into a pocket and removed a small flask.

  ‘Drink,’ he said.

  He held it to her lips, and she took a swig.

  ‘You can do it,’ he whispered.

  ‘I might pass out.’

  ‘Keira used to all the time, it’s all right. There are a hundred soldiers up here guarding you, and I swear I won’t leave your side.’

  She nodded. ‘Hold me up.’

  He gripped her under the shoulders, and she raised her arms again. Another ball of fire climbed into the air. She staggered, but Killop kept her on her feet. She swung her arms, and the fireball roared up and over the cliffside. An explosion burst into the air when it landed, and cries of terror fol
lowed.

  ‘And again,’ Killop said.

  She was weakening, but raised her arms once more. The bonfire was lower, its fuel more than half-consumed, and the ball she managed to raise was smaller than before. She let out a scream, and hurled her arms towards the cliff-edge, and the fireball shot through the air, further than the others had. It smashed into a massive catapult near the centre of the terrace, sending burning fragments of wood flying out into the throng of Rahain soldiers around it.

  ‘Fucking shot, Lilyann,’ Killop cried, but the mage was unconscious.

  He called Tiel over, and the Rahain commander summoned a squad. They made up a pallet on the snow for Lilyann, with a canopy overhead, and Killop laid her down. Sentries stood at each corner of the shelter, as she slept inside.

  ‘She did it,’ Tiel said, his eyes on the flames coming from the terrace below.

  Killop watched his warriors charge through the terrace below them, disabling more catapults, and taking command of others. On the great plain before the gates, the army of Holdings cavalry was already reacting to the shift in the balance of the battle. Lines of armoured horses were thundering across the gap towards the Rahain shield wall.

  Tiel slapped him on the back. ‘You’ve done it too, Chief.’

  The foremost spearhead of cavalry pierced the Rahain shieldwall, and they swept out of view under the lip of the ridge.

  A whistle sounded from their left.

  Regular Rahain soldiers were running down the left side of the ridge towards them, a black mass against the dazzling snow.

  ‘There must be another entrance to the city round here,’ Tiel said, his tongue flickering. ‘A roof access, maybe…’

  ‘Stand fast,’ Killop cried, and ran to the shieldwall.

  The regulars slowed as they approached the clan’s Rahain soldiers, unsure of whom they were facing.

  Killop peered through a crossbow slot. Ahead, the regulars halted in a line, and formed up their shields, out of range.

  An officer stepped clear, and walked forward, two soldiers protecting him with their shields.

  ‘Who are you?’ he called out. ‘What unit do you belong to?’

  Killop’s force stood steady and silent.

  ‘Who’s your commander?’ the officer shouted.

  ‘They out-number us, Chief,’ Tiel whispered, ‘three to one.’

  Killop pushed his way through the tight ranks of his soldiers, and emerged onto the empty snow between the two forces. He walked forward until he was just outside the enemy’s range.

  ‘I’m the Chief of the Severed City,’ he cried out in Rahain. ‘The soldiers behind me used to be slaves, but now they’re free, and have chosen to fight for that freedom.’

  ‘Where is the mage?’ the officer said.

  ‘Attack and you’ll find out.’

  The officer’s tongue flickered, and he glanced over at the plain, where the Holdings army was sweeping forwards.

  ‘The battle’s over,’ Killop said, throwing his voice loud enough for the ranks of Rahain regulars to hear. ‘The Holdings will tear down your war-mongering government and free all the slaves. It’s over.’

  ‘You fucking savage,’ the officer said. ‘Curse you, and the Sanang, and the Holdings.’

  He spat on the ground, and returned to his own ranks.

  Killop went back through his shieldwall.

  ‘Get ready,’ he said to Tiel. ‘Shorten the lines.’

  His commander let out a series of blasts on his whistle, and the clan’s Rahain tightened the square, thickening their ranks. Ahead, the regulars started rolling towards them, their flanks overlapping the clan’s position.

  Killop knelt by Lilyann’s side. He picked up her limp hand, urging her to wake, but she remained still. He stood, and drew his sword.

  The enemy charged at the clan’s square, the two shieldwalls clashing in a loud clacking and slamming of wood. Bolts were being shot through any gap, and Killop saw soldiers hit in the face through their own crossbow slots.

  He swung his shield from over his shoulder, and entered the chaos at the front lines. He reached out with his sword, and splintered shields with great hacking blows, his height and strength powering through the Rahain before him. The regulars pulled back, trying to lure him forward, but he kept close to his own shieldwall. Bolts flew towards him, and he ducked down as several bit deep into his shield. His own soldiers rallied round him, and charged, covering him with their shields, and pushing into the regulars. Both shieldwalls mingled and tore against each other, and Rahain fought Rahain in a ferocious tumult of violence. Shields were discarded, and swords drawn, and the snow ran red.

  Killop waded through the bloody snow, his longsword lashing out. His mind shrank, and his sole thought was killing. His movements flowed with the ease of long experience as he piled through the ranks of regulars.

  A cry of rage and blood came from his lips as his conscious mind retreated and his instincts took full control. Down, and down again his right arm swung, cutting through shields and flesh. He charged at two regulars ahead of him, cleaving one through from shoulder to waist. The other turned, and slipped over the side of the cliff in panic. Killop toppled after him, his range over-extended. A strong hand gripped his belt, and pulled him back onto the snow.

  He landed on someone, and rolled off.

  ‘Larissa,’ he gasped, his senses returning. He looked up. Kellach warriors from eagle company were finishing off the last of the regular Rahain on the hillside.

  ‘You’re welcome,’ she said, standing and brushing the snow from her chain mail. ‘Pyre’s arse, check the state of you.’

  ‘Lilyann!’ Killop cried, leaping to his feet.

  ‘The wee mage is fine,’ Larissa said. ‘Calm down. We saw the Rahain attack you from the terrace, and found a way up.’

  ‘The terrace is taken?’

  ‘All ours.’

  ‘Any machines left?’

  ‘Plenty.’

  ‘Have them fire on the Rahain.’

  ‘Already on it.’

  He looked over the edge of the cliff, and saw Kellach squads in control of the remaining ballista, aiming them down at a steep angle over the ridge.

  ‘The Rahain army’s being destroyed,’ he said. ‘Why aren’t they fleeing back into the city?’

  ‘The gatehouse is blockaded,’ Larissa said. ‘Don’t know who’s holding it, but the Rahain can’t get in that way.’

  They walked back to Lilyann’s shelter, a long splash of blood on the snow two yards from where she lay.

  ‘They got close,’ Larissa said.

  ‘I swore I wouldn’t leave her side.’

  ‘You had the battle frenzy on you,’ she said. ‘I saw.’

  Killop went to the mage’s side, and shook her gently.

  Lilyann stirred, and her eyes opened.

  She lifted her head. ‘Anything left in that flask, Chief?’

  Of the hundred Rahain that had formed a wall around Lilyann, thirty remained in fighting condition. Forty-two had died, and the rest had taken injuries. The Kellach stood around, stunned at the losses. Many broke down, and embraced the surviving Rahain, wailing lamentations with tears in their eyes. The Rahain soldiers looked almost embarrassed by their release of emotion.

  A handful of Kellach had died in the assault on the terrace, and their bodies were brought up the ridge, and laid out next to their Rahain brethren. Larissa and Kalden spoke, then Tiel, as a bitter wind drove across the hillside. Lilyann stood by Killop’s side. She had been crying, overcome by the knowledge that so many had died or been injured protecting her.

  The Kellach made up stretchers for the wounded Rahain, and they prepared to climb down the ridge. Scouts were sent running back to fetch the wagons from where they had been halted by the side of the mountain path, and Kalden summoned the warriors up from the terrace. There was still fighting going on in front of the gates below, but there was no discernible mass of Rahain soldiers left to aim at. Killop leant over the ridge and
took a good look at the gatehouse fifty feet beneath him. Rubble piled out of both archway entrances, and there were heaps of Rahain bodies lying in a wide arc around them, shot through with crossbow bolts.

  ‘We’ve found a path down to the plain,’ Larissa said.

  He nodded, and stepped back from the edge.

  ‘Shall we go and meet our new friends?’ she said.

  ‘Aye.’ He looked up. The sun was in the south, a cold winter’s noon.

  The way down to the plain was long and narrow. As they descended, Killop watched the end of the battle. Holdings cavalry were now in command of the area in front of the gates, and the rubble from the entrances had been cleared. Troopers on foot were being funnelled through the shattered archways into the city, while Kellach Brigdomin warriors were lining up, waiting their turn to enter. Tents had been erected on the open area behind the army, with thousands of horses in guarded paddocks close by.

  The last stretch of the path was a long steep flight of steps cut into the rock, with a switchback half way down. When they arrived at the bottom, the clan formed up into ranks on the brown and red streaked snow, the Rahain survivors given pride of place at the front, flanked by Kellach. Soldiers from the other armies turned, staring at the new arrivals.

  Killop raised his hand, and they began marching towards the high tents at the rear of the army. Some Holdings troopers cheered when they saw them approach, while others stared at the Rahain soldiers in the midst of Killop’s force. The clan rounded a turn in the cliffside, and Killop saw the huge mass of warriors he had not recognised from the ridge. The Rahain officer had called them Sanang.

  They were about as tall as Holdings or Rahain folk, but their arms and shoulders were much larger. And, he noticed, they were all men.

  They turned to face Killop’s force with the same mixed reactions that the Holdings troopers had displayed. Some, seeing only the Kellach on the flanks, started jumping and whooping, while others glowered.

  ‘Guess they’ve never experienced friendly Rahain before,’ Larissa said.

  ‘They look horrible,’ Lilyann said. ‘Who are they?’

  ‘Sanang,’ Killop said. ‘From somewhere up north.’