The Kellach laughed and raised their mugs.
‘Stomping starts in an hour,’ the one-legged brewer shouted, as he dodged a thrown mug.
As Killop smiled, he felt a tap on his shoulder.
‘Excuse me, sir.’
He turned. Before him stood a Holdings woman, in the uniform of the new imperial army, wearing a steel breastplate and dark grey leathers. For the smallest moment his heart stopped before he realised it wasn’t Daphne.
‘I was told that you’re the Chief of the Severed Clan,’ the officer said.
‘I’m Killop.’
The officer bowed her head. ‘Then let me offer you my thanks for allowing the Imperial Recruiters onto the clan’s land.’
Killop nodded. ‘I appreciate that you asked politely, rather than try to sneak in.’
‘There was no need to sneak in,’ she said. ‘I believe our cause is just, and in the interests of the Severed Clan as well as the rest of the empire.’
‘There is no “rest of”,’ Bridget said, coming up beside Killop. ‘We’re not part of the empire.’
‘I’m not here to debate politics, madam herald,’ the officer said to Bridget, ‘but to do my best to persuade as many folk as are willing to volunteer, to help end the insurgency in the south.’
Killop looked past the officer. Behind her on the road leading to the river a wagon was parked. Around it were a dozen soldiers, equally split between Holdings, Rahain, and Kellach Brigdomin.
‘Do you want to speak to the workers?’ he said.
‘I’d be most grateful, Chief.’
He glanced at Bridget, who frowned, then gave a slight nod.
‘I’ll introduce you,’ he said. ‘Get your rousing speech prepared.’
Killop walked out to where most could see him.
‘Thanks for all your work today,’ he said, his voice carrying across the courtyard. ‘Before you start stomping, there’s someone who wants to speak to you. An officer from the imperial army. I want you to know that I won’t stand in the way of anyone who volunteers. Freedom is worth nothing if you’re not allowed to leave.’
The officer appeared at his side, and he gestured for her to stand forward.
‘Men and women of the Kellach Brigdomin,’ she said, all eyes watching her. ‘Slateford Estate is beautiful and fertile, and you have already transformed it into a place that feels like home. It stirs in me a longing for my own home, the endless plains of wheat and horses that I love. I envy you. For all the dreadful suffering your people have endured, here you are, making a new life from the dirt with your own hands.
‘Yet a mere hundred miles south of here lies Calcite City, the base of the rebels who refuse to accept the universal peace the Emperor has brought. They continue to defy their lawful government, and have begun to strike out, attacking camps and supply lines like cowards, but never meeting us in full battle.
‘Do you think these rebels, who regard your people as chattel slaves, and who still hold at least thirty thousand of your folk in chains, do you think they would hesitate to raze Slateford to the ground? You represent all that they hate. And trust me on this, their hate for you is strong indeed.
‘Free folk, if they are truly free, protect what they love, and you love this fair place. Will you protect it? You may think, you have a militia who will protect you, who will guard the valley from any enemy. But if the lawful government of Rahain falls to the rebels, how long do you think your militia will hold out?
‘Think of the future, and make plans to secure it. Serve with the imperial army for two years, fight the last war to unite this world, and free the remainder of your folk who are enslaved. The pay is good. You know our cause. Anyone over sixteen who wishes to enlist can do so. Go to the wagon, give the soldiers there your name, and you will be given a token. If you present that token to the nearby fort within a third, you will be accepted into the army. We’ll be here all night, so even if you just want to chat, feel free to come and talk to us.’
She gestured to the alliance fighters behind her, who were standing in a row, their armour glistening in the firelight. She bowed.
‘Thank you for listening.’
The officer turned away, and joined Killop by the tables as the Kellach resumed their dinner.
‘That’ll probably do the trick,’ he said. ‘I think you’ll get a few names this evening.’
‘That would be fantastic,’ she said, looking over the table’s crowded contents of dishes, jugs and plates. ‘May I get some food for my squad, Chief? It’s been a long day.’
‘Of course, help yourself.’
He watched her as she picked up a large plate and gazed at the food on offer. She looked nothing like Daphne, but her presence brought her to mind. She would be well on her way to Slateford, and soon she would arrive with Karalyn, and his life would change.
The officer turned, and caught him gazing at her. She smiled.
‘Do you have anything non-alcoholic to drink?’
‘I’ll get you some grape juice,’ he said. He hoped that Daphne drank, she might find it difficult to fit in among the Kellach if she didn’t. He walked to the winery, chatting to a few workers on the way. As he reached the entrance, a runner approached, sprinting across the fire-lit courtyard.
‘Chief,’ he panted. ‘An intruder has been caught in the big house. Liam asked for you, said you needed to come.’
Killop found Kalden, and the two of them hurried along the road to the mansion, a squad of militia following. It was dark by the time they reached the big house. A guard was waiting by the front door.
‘Chief.’
‘What happened?’
‘Mage Liam has the details, Chief,’ she said as they entered the house. The guard led them to a large office on the ground floor, where the old sparker was sitting by the fireplace, his head bowed.
‘Liam,’ Killop said.
‘Ah Chief, you’re here,’ he said. ‘It’s my fault. I should have been keeping a better eye on things.’
‘I was told there was an intruder.’
‘The guards have him secured in the next room.’
‘Him?’
‘A Holdings priest.’
‘Where was he found?’
‘I caught him, chief,’ Liam said. ‘I went in to check on Lilyann and Dean, and there he was, talking to them like he was an old friend.’
Killop felt rage grow within him. He strode to the door, Kalden a step behind. He flung it open and entered. Six guards were inside, watching a solitary dark-skinned man, who was sitting on a stool.
‘You,’ Killop said. ‘Millar.’
The deacon glanced up.
‘I told you not to come back,’ Killop said, his eyes dark.
‘The Creator sees no boundaries,’ Millar said, a faint smirk on his lips, ‘and I am doing his work. If you are now going to beat me as a punishment, go ahead. I welcome it. The Creator will witness the suffering I undergo in his service, and know I am true to his purpose.’
Killop bared his teeth, his fists clenched. He towered over the Holdings man.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘I heard a rumour there were mages,’ Millar said, ‘and I came to find them. The souls of mages are prized above all others by the Creator, and it is our sacred duty to bring them to the truth.’
‘Your religion is not welcome here,’ Killop said.
Millar shrugged. ‘Your two young mages seemed quite interested in what I had to say. Indeed, they wondered why you had been keeping it from them.’
‘I’ll do what it takes to protect them from your lies.’
‘If you want, Chief,’ Kalden said, ‘you can just leave the room, and we’ll take care of this.’
Lilyann burst in. ‘Leave him alone!’
She ran across the floor, flinging herself between the Kellach and Millar, who smiled.
‘Don’t listen to him, Lilyann,’ Killop said. ‘His words are poison. He wants to hand you over to his church in Plateau City.’
‘I
know,’ she said. ‘He explained it all to us. I want to go. If Pyre is the Creator, and he loves mages with all his heart, and he has a plan for us, then I want to be part of that.’
‘There is no Creator.’
Millar smirked. ‘Do you think Miss Holdfast believes that?’
Killop stared at the priest. ‘How do you know about Daphne?’
Millar chuckled. ‘The One True Path know much about Miss Holdfast. And thanks to Lilyann, I now know she’ll be arriving here soon. I am blessed indeed. When I was given this assignment I had no idea that Daphne Holdfast would be coming. But let me get to the point. It’s well known in the church that the Creator himself once spoke directly to Miss Holdfast. He offered her the highest honours, but she spurned him, and is now a renegade against the holy church. She probably hates us even more than you do, but one thing she cannot deny: that the Creator is real.’
Killop said nothing, his thoughts racing. He was glad that Daphne was no friend of the Holdings church, but he also saw how ignorant he was of the life she had led, and the kind of person she was.
‘Chief?’ Kalden said.
‘Get him out of here,’ Killop said. ‘Don’t hurt him, just get him off the estate.’
‘Aye, Chief.’
Millar stood and allowed the guards to escort him to the door.
‘We shall meet again, Lilyann,’ he called out as he left. ‘Stay strong.’
The young mage nodded, her face lit with defiance.
Killop gazed at her. ‘Are you doing this to spite us, or do you believe what the priest told you?’
‘Started with one,’ she said, ‘might be heading towards the other.’
Liam appeared at the door. ‘Off to bed, young lady.’
‘You can’t keep me here forever,’ she said, glaring at Killop. ‘You’re not my father.’
Chapter 9
Choking
Plateau/Arakhanah Frontier – 14th Day, First Third Autumn 506
‘It’s good to be inside for a change, miss,’ Jayki said, as he peered out of the carriage window at the countryside rolling by. ‘Much better than being up top.’
‘I thought you liked the fresh air,’ Shella said.
‘Oh yeah, I love being outside when it’s lashing down with rain, or in a howling gale. Especially when those bloody stupid gaien aren’t co-operating.’
‘Well, we’ve got horses pulling us now,’ Shella said. ‘We’ve moved up in the world.’
‘Those beasts scare the shit of me, miss.’
Secretary Jodie sighed, scrunched up a piece of paper, and began writing in her ledger again.
‘Distracting you, are we?’ said Shella.
‘Not at all, your Highness.’
‘Unless you’re writing down everything we say,’ Shella said, ‘I can’t see how you can have any work to do. We left twenty-two days ago…’
‘Twenty-four, your Highness,’ Jodie said.
‘Twenty-fucking-four, then, whatever,’ Shella sighed. ‘Point is, you must have run out of stuff to do by now.’
‘I’m editing my journal, your Highness,’ Jodie said. ‘I intend to present it to the Rakanese archives, as a record of the first year of the embassy in Plateau City.’
‘First year, eh? Am I in it?’
‘Of course, your Highness. Ambassador Torrijananu was in the post for only ten thirds before you replaced him. For the last two sections of the journal, you are the ambassador. You do make other appearances in earlier chapters, detailing the contact you had with the embassy.’
Shella cringed. ‘How detailed?’
‘I’ve tried to include everything, your Highness, for the historical record.’
‘What bit you working on now?’ Jayki said.
‘The index.’
‘It’s got an index?’ Shella said, taking a cigarette out of her silver case.
‘Yes, your Highness. So if anyone wants to read about say, you, then they’ll be able to see all the pages where you’re mentioned.’
‘I know what a fucking index is,’ Shella said. ‘Just how big is your journal?’
‘One volume for each of the twelve thirds it covers, your Highness.’
‘That’s a lot of books you’re carrying.’
‘Oh, I’ve brought others, your Highness,’ Jodie said. ‘For instance, I have a copy of the official history of the Great Migration. There are plenty of copies already in Arakhanah of course, but I have amended my edition, adding everything I’ve heard you, Jayki and Prince Sami say about it. After all, you’re the only surviving eye-witnesses, it makes sense to add as much of your personal testimony as possible.’
‘You’ve put in all the shit that Sami’s said?’ Shella asked. ‘Even when he was drunk?’
‘I aim to be comprehensive.’
Shella glowered at the embassy secretary.
‘If you’re thinking of finding and destroying the documents I carry, your Highness,’ Jodie said, ‘then you should know that I’ve had other copies made. Of course, the journal will be lacking an index, but I’m sure readers will manage.’
Shella simmered, but said nothing.
‘Future generations deserve the truth,’ Jodie said. ‘Wouldn’t you agree, your Highness?’
‘Drop the highness shit.’
Jodie raised an eyebrow.
‘Makes you sound like a hypocrite,’ Shella went on. ‘You obviously think that royalty is ridiculous, and I don’t blame you.’
‘Secretary Daly insisted before our departure…’
‘Well he’s not here now, is he?’ Shella said, blowing smoke out of the open window. ‘As the ambassador, not as a princess, I order you to stop using “your highness”, at least until the government of Arakhanah puts a fucking crown on my head.’
‘As you wish… ma’am.’
‘That’s better,’ Shella said, gazing out at the view.
She shook her head. ‘Holdings settlers everywhere. New farms, new plantations, roads…’
‘Don’t see any other people,’ Jayki said. ‘Just Holdings.’
‘They’re taking the best bits of the Plateau for themselves.’
‘They’re behaving perfectly legally,’ Jodie said.
Shella snorted. ‘Only according to the terms of that stupid contract the Rakanese government signed with Guilliam.’
Jodie pursed her lips.
‘Nothing to say?’ Shella said, throwing her cigarette butt out of the window. ‘Come on, you must have an opinion. Off the record. Talk freely to me.’
‘I daren’t. I don’t trust you.’
‘Why not?’
‘I know about those little chats you’ve been having with the Lord Vicar, miss.’
Shella narrowed her eyes. ‘Are you one of those who’ve gone blabbing to the church?’
Jodie’s expression hardened. ‘No.’
The secretary sat back, and put her ledger down.
‘I’m aware of the rumours,’ she said after a while, ‘but I’ve been unable to catch any of the staff in the act. The thought that someone is betraying our secrets to the Holdings disgusts me.’
‘But you’ve written a book on it,’ Shella said. ‘Twelve.’
‘But that’s for Arakhanah, not the Holdings.’
‘The conversations I’ve had with the Lord Vicar,’ Shella said, ‘were all about my friend Daphne Holdfast. Well, apart from the usual nagging I got from him about their endless demands. And you can stick that in your journal.’
Jodie eyed her in silence.
‘Okay,’ Shella said. ‘So we distrust each other. But I’m willing to be honest with you, if you’re honest with me.’
Jodie gazed out of the window.
Shella glanced at Jayki, who shrugged and passed her another cigarette.
‘I remember the Migration leaving,’ Jodie said.
Shella and Jayki turned to her.
‘I was working as a union rep at a rice packers in Wetfields District, you know it?’
Shella shook her he
ad.
‘Well, it’s way up in the north. Edge of the city. Went to work one morning and there was no one there. We’d heard about your sister the day before, and knew she was causing a disturbance in the south, but we laughed it off as another crank. We were wrong.’
She paused as she continued to look at the gentle hills passing by, fields marked out with wooden fence posts, and cattle grazing in the autumn sun.
‘Was tempted to go myself,’ she went on. ‘Most of my brothers and sisters did, but then who would have taken care of my mum?’ She turned to Shella. ‘She was sick. Someone had to look after her.’
‘So you stayed?’ Shella said.
‘I stayed. My mum died soon after they left. And then things got really bad. Lost my job. The sea inundated the rice fields, and I ended up having to move nearer the centre, where I worked for thirds on the waterways, shoring up old walls for a bowl of food a day.’
Jodie sighed. ‘How I regretted not leaving with you. And then we heard you were all dead. I’m glad my mum wasn’t around for that. Every doomsayer had predicted that the Migration was going to fail, and I was one of the stupid ones who thought you’d flourish. When we get to Arakhanah, miss, you’ll probably hear people refer to the dark days. Those are the days they’re talking about, right after we heard the news. That’s when things collapsed for a while.’
‘You hate me, don’t you?’
‘Your family led the Migration. Your sister may have been queen, but her siblings all played their parts, especially you, miss. People did curse the Kanawara name for a good while. I know because I was one of them.’
‘I would have done the same,’ Shella said. ‘I tried to talk her out of it, before we left, but when I realised that nothing would change her mind I decided to help. I wanted it to succeed, but it was rotten from the moment Obli decided to crown herself.’
She broke off, memories flooding her mind. A tight pain formed in the pit of her stomach.
Jayki produced a small flask.
‘Been saving this,’ he said. ‘But I’ll need a drink if we’re going to talk about what happened.’
He took a swig and passed the flask to Shella. She raised it to her lips and drank, her throat burning from the cheap rum.
The Magelands Box Set Page 103
