‘They want the whole world to bow to the Emperor.’
‘Yes,’ Laodoc said, ‘but what’s got them more annoyed than the political situation, is that the rebels hunt down and kill any Holdings missionary they find on their territory. Dozens of deacons and priests have been executed, their bodies displayed by the roadside. Some have even been assassinated while they walked the streets of the capital, killed by Old Free sympathisers.’ He smiled. ‘This is something the Severed Clan shares with the rebels.’
Daphne frowned.
‘Killop has also banned Holdings missionaries from entering his clan’s land at Slateford,’ Laodoc said. ‘Probably for the same reasons as the rebels, though he would no doubt dispute that. However, they are on the wrong side of history. The Rahain people are converting to the creator-faith like thirsty men to water, with no sign of slowing down. Whole neighbourhoods of the capital now worship the Creator, and it’s the same in Jade Falls and Tahrana, in fact wherever the missionaries are able to go.’
‘Killop has banned them?’
‘Yes. Sent them packing, I believe. He hasn’t executed any, as the rebels have done, but his actions have vexed the church here in the capital. Ghorley keeps trying to get me to overturn their law of sovereignty, that grants the Severed Clan the right to live according to their own customs, but I never shall. I’ll take one small victory over that damned priest.’
‘So Ghorley’s still in charge?’
‘He runs the Church Mission, co-ordinating the mass conversions, and sending out One True Path missionaries to every corner of Rahain. General Harkin may be the imperial legate, but Ghorley is the one pulling all the strings.’
Laodoc lifted his glass of brandy. ‘He even tried to ban this. Ridiculous. When I told him no, he just sent out his deacons, and they destroyed several bars and roughed up members of the wine merchants’ guild, while soldiers looked the other way. Most of the new army regiments are made up entirely of converts. They keep the peace, and they fight the rebels, but I know where their true loyalty lies.’
‘I saw some detachments of Holdings troopers on their way out of Rahain as we were coming in,’ Daphne said. ‘Why are they leaving if the rebellion’s getting worse?’
‘There’s been some sort of disturbance in Sanang,’ Laodoc sighed. ‘That’s what Harkin told me. The Emperor asked for troops, and Ghorley assured him we could defeat the insurgency with the new army alone. After all, the Creator is on our side.’
‘Faith won’t keep out a crossbow bolt.’
‘Quite, Daphne. Luckily not all of the new army is beholden to the church. We have managed to recruit over ten thousand Kellach Brigdomin, most of whom have fighting experience of one sort or another.’
‘What about Killop? He hasn’t joined up, has he?’
‘No,’ Laodoc smiled. ‘He’s quite safe. He did allow the imperial recruiters onto the estate though, and several thousand from Slateford enlisted. I imagine he’s got his hands full running the place, not to mention looking forward to seeing you and Karalyn.’
She gazed at the floor. ‘It’s been a long time apart. Damn Kylon.’
‘But Daphne, without the Severed Clan’s intervention at the Battle for the Gates, the day might have been lost.’
‘I know,’ she said. ‘I heard. I understand all that, but I still wanted him beside me.’
‘And now your wait is almost at an end,’ Laodoc said. ‘Do you know how to get to Slateford Estate?’
‘Yes.’
‘Are you going straight there?’
‘No, there’s something in the city I have to do first. Don’t worry, I won’t cause any trouble.’
‘Do you require an escort, my dear, if you’re worried for your security?’
She shook her head. ‘Thanks for the offer. I’ll send word when we reach Slateford.’
Laodoc smiled. ‘All the best, Daphne.’
The apparition disappeared.
Take care, Laodoc.
Daphne pulled her vision back to where she sat cross-legged on the floor of a small cabin they had rented from a farmer a few miles from the capital. Her eyes snapped open, and she heard Karalyn squeal.
‘That was quick,’ said Bedig.
He lit a stick of keenweed and passed it to her, along with a cup of wine.
‘Thanks,’ she said, taking a drag.
Her mind cleared. The room was in shadows, the shutters closed. A lamp burned on a table.
Karalyn tottered over to her. Daphne reached out with her right arm and gave her daughter a hug.
‘You should be in bed, Kara-bear.’
‘I’ll take her,’ Bedig said, standing. He plucked Karalyn off her feet and carried her over to a cot.
‘Thanks,’ Daphne said.
‘How’d it go?’
‘Rahain’s in a mess,’ she said. ‘Poor Laodoc, squeezed between the church and the rebels. The sooner we leave the capital the better.’
‘We’re going into the capital?’ Bedig said, turning from the cot. Karalyn was lying down but was still awake, making gurgly laughing noises.
‘I have a job for you,’ Daphne said.
She reached into her pack and withdrew a purse of coins. Bedig came over and sat down. She handed him the purse, and a slip of paper. He squinted at it.
‘That’s the address,’ she said. ‘Be discreet.’
He nodded. ‘Back on the weed, then?’
‘I’ll need it for the amount of vision I’ll be doing.’
Bedig said nothing.
Daphne glared at him. ‘Do I say anything about your drinking?’
‘I’m not judging you, miss.’ He placed the purse and paper into his own pack.
She took a long sip of wine.
‘When we get there,’ she said, ‘we’ll stable the horses by the western gate, split up, and meet back there at sunset. If we ride through the night, we could make Slateford by the following evening.’
‘I wonder if I’ll know anyone there.’
‘I think they’re all ex-slaves.’
‘My brother was captured and enslaved when the Rahain took our village. I escaped before the wagons had left Brig, and left him behind. That was the last I ever saw of him.’
‘If he’s alive,’ Daphne said, ‘he’ll be in Rahain.’
‘Or he might have left, to go back to Brig.’
Daphne glanced at him. ‘But there’s nothing down there. The Rahain left it a desert.’
Bedig smiled. ‘That’s what most folk believe, or want to believe, but I was there, remember? I met Keira, and Kylon, and Leah and the others in Domm. There are people still living there, Daphne. They were well hidden in the glens when we left to fight in Kell, before Kylon dragged us off to help Shella in Akhanawarah.’
‘Then why is Duncan the Kellach chief?’ Daphne said. ‘Should it not be someone who is living in your homeland?’
‘Like I said, many folk, including Duncan in Plateau City, want to believe that the whole of Kellach Brigdomin is a wasteland, and Domm, where all the survivors are living, is at the furthest tip of the world, and between it and the Plateau are all those miles of desert you were talking about. Destroyed villages, opencast mines, slagheaps. Shanty towns of slave Rahain, toiling day and night. But the folk way down in Domm are living in a world of their own. I’ll bet none of them have even heard there’s an emperor.’
‘They will soon,’ Daphne said, ‘if freed slaves start returning from Rahain.’
Bedig nodded.
Daphne stood. ‘Bed.’
‘Aye.’
She turned down the lamp and got into the small wooden pallet, a pile of blankets keeping out the autumn chill. She heard Bedig lumber about until he found his own bed and got into it.
She closed her eyes and listened out for Karalyn’s breathing, its soft rhythm lulling her to sleep.
Daphne hired a gaien-drawn cart with a driver at the western gates of the capital, and sat in the back with Karalyn as it pulled them through the great tunnel
s of the city. The western region was one of the areas least damaged by the alliance invasion, but the scars were still visible. Beggars lined the busy junctions, and many of the street lamps were not working, casting deep shadows across the thoroughfares.
Groups of Rahain soldiers in grey uniforms stood watching the crowds of people going about their business. The brown tunics worn by slaves and peasants alike before the invasion were still ubiquitous, although no slave chains were evident, and there was no way to tell the difference between the two groups. A few Holdings troopers were on guard at certain points, while dozens of their black-robed country-folk were out on the streets, preaching to quiet and attentive crowds.
There was little traffic on the roads, and Daphne saw none of the old, ostentatious carriages that the aristocratic class had used to travel.
‘This your first time in the city, miss?’ the Rahain driver asked.
‘No,’ she replied. ‘I’m returning after a year away.’
‘So, you church or army?’
‘Neither.’
The driver waited for her to continue, and when she didn’t, he cracked the whip and kept his gaze forward.
Karalyn stirred, picking up the nerves that her mother was feeling.
‘It’s all right,’ Daphne whispered. ‘It’s going to be fine.’
As they drew closer to the centre of the city, Daphne began recognising streets and caverns, and the almost hidden entrances to the network of service tunnels and shafts that she remembered so well from her time in the city. The richer caverns were now unguarded, and folk in brown tunics were moving everywhere, without any of the roadblocks and barriers that had kept them restricted to certain areas under the old regime. Poverty was still endemic, she saw, despite the new freedoms that the lower classes were enjoying. Thin children played in the small squares they passed, running in the dim lamplight, while groups of out-of-work adults gathered at street corners, their faces wan and hungry.
Signs of the battle for the city appeared: scorched tunnel walls, boarded-up shopfronts, and smashed statues and monuments.
The cart pulled into the central government cavern. Ahead, the Senate building towered above everything else, as it had for millennia. Battle damage scarred its high walls, and the flag of the empire, showing a golden five-pointed star, flew from the highest turret.
Next to it, the smaller but still impressive Council Chambers sat, untouched by any stain of war. The driver guided the cart down a narrow street a few blocks from the council, and halted in front of a large stone building, its walls recently painted white.
‘Here we are, miss,’ the driver said. ‘The Church Mission.’
Daphne took a firm hold of Karalyn, and stepped down from the cart. She reached into a purse on her belt and handed the driver some coins.
‘There will be more if you wait for me,’ she said. ‘This shouldn’t take too long.’
‘Yes, miss,’ he said. ‘Of course.’
Daphne walked to the gates at the front of the building, carrying Karalyn on her right hip. She reached into her vision, and checked that the protections she had placed were still there. She took a breath, and approached the gates.
A Holdings guard stepped in front of her.
‘Can I help you?’
‘I’d like to see Father Ghorley.’
‘Oh yeah? You got an appointment?’
‘No.’
‘Then give me one good reason why I should let you in.’
‘My name is Daphne Holdfast,’ she said. ‘Father Ghorley will want to see me.’
The guard squinted at her, as if he recognised the name but couldn’t place it.
‘Holdfast, eh? Wait a minute.’ He turned and gestured to another guard.
They whispered together, and the younger guard nodded, then sprinted for the mansion. Daphne shifted Karalyn’s weight on her hip, a mask of calm upon her face.
A few moments later, the younger guard ran back out from the great building, down the wide steps, and towards the gates.
He nodded. ‘Let her in.’
The first guard raised an eyebrow. ‘Fair enough.’
He pulled the bar of the gates clear, and swung them open.
‘Thank you,’ Daphne said, entering the courtyard in front of the steps. She gazed around. Groups of black-clad deacons stood by a row of wagons, loading them up with books and supplies. Several of them cast glances across the courtyard at her and Karalyn, but no one spoke.
Daphne strode towards the steps, mounted them and went through the front doors, guards holding them open.
She heard a low chuckle, and saw a man waiting for her.
‘Well, well. I was about to sack that guard for drunkenness, so sure was I that you’d never walk through those doors again.’
‘Good afternoon, Joley,’ she said. ‘I didn’t know that any of the old embassy staff still worked here.’
‘I’m the only one,’ he said. ‘Come, Father Ghorley is waiting.’
He turned and she followed him down a marble-floored corridor.
‘After we’d been released from the prison cells where the Rahain had been keeping us,’ Joley said, ‘Ambassador Quentin and the others opted for early retirement, and returned to the Holdings.’
‘But you stayed?’
Joley shrugged. ‘I’ve been here too long. Wouldn’t know what to do with myself back home. Things have changed.’
‘This is no longer the embassy, for instance.’
‘No,’ Joley said. ‘This is the Church Mission.’ He glanced at her and smirked. ‘They changed the name, gave the place a lick of paint to hide the smoke damage, and fixed the windows. Today we seem to function mainly as a gathering point for missionaries heading out into the wilds of Rahain.’
‘I saw a few outside.’
He paused as they reached a door.
‘You’re either brave or stupid for coming here,’ he said. ‘Father Ghorley nearly spat his tea out when he heard you’d arrived. You’re supposed to be on your way to Slateford, or so our intelligence told us.’
‘I’m not a criminal,’ she said. ‘I’m not on the run. Why would I not want to pay my respects to the empire’s representatives in Rahain?’
Joley smiled.
He put his hand on the door.
‘Good luck in there, Holdfast,’ he said. ‘As I said, things have changed.’
Joley pushed the door open, and Daphne walked in, Karalyn held close to her.
‘Miss Daphne, do come in,’ Ghorley called from across the room. He was sitting behind an enormous desk, where a silver tray with teapot and cups rested amidst a heap of papers. A dozen men and women in black robes were standing by the desk, each displaying a different expression. Some showed curiosity, others alarm and even fear. A few failed to hide their contempt.
‘Greetings Father Ghorley,’ Daphne said, striding towards him, her face glowing with confidence, despite the hammering of her heart behind her ribs. ‘I’m newly arrived in the capital, and thought I’d come by for a little chat.’
‘Why of course,’ said Ghorley, the grin on his lips not reaching his eyes. ‘Tea?’
‘Thank you. And a smoke, if you have one.’
Ghorley gestured to a black-robed man to his left, who offered Daphne a cigarette. Ghorley then picked up the teapot, and began to pour.
Daphne put Karalyn down and lit the cigarette. The infant hugged Daphne’s leg, keeping her face buried in her long cloak.
‘She’s a little tired,’ Daphne said, the crippled fingers of her left hand stroking Karalyn’s dark hair. ‘She’ll be needing a nap soon, so I won’t stay long. You’ve spoken to the Lord Vicar, I’m sure. You’ll know that he wants me as far away as possible and, well, here I am. He also wants me to not interfere with the work of the church, so let me promise you this – if you stay away from me, I’ll stay away from you. I intend to go to Slateford, and live there, in peace. I have no desire to intervene in the politics of the world, and expect you to respect that. Do we
understand each other?’
‘Such a pity,’ Ghorley said. ‘When I asked you to rescue her Highness Princess Shellakanawara and then return to Plateau City, I hoped with all my heart that it would lead to your reconciliation with the church. Someone like yourself should be working for us, with us. Ahh, Daphne, the great things we could accomplish together.’ He shook his head.
‘Do we have an understanding?’
‘Of course, Daphne,’ Ghorley said. ‘The church will do you no harm, as long as you keep to your side of the agreement. You won’t be shocked to learn that I’ve been asked to monitor your whereabouts by the Lord Vicar, and up until this morning I thought I’d been doing a good job. It’s not often I’m surprised, Daphne, but you achieved that today.’
He raised his teacup in salute, and gazed at Karalyn.
Daphne felt the priest’s vision flex out like a whip towards her daughter, and she knew then that Ghorley was more powerful than any mage she had yet encountered. Even so, the webs of protection she had woven about Karalyn were enough to prevent him from entering her mind. Daphne almost grunted with the effort, but kept her composure.
Ghorley opened his mouth and blinked.
‘How?’ he whispered.
‘How what?’ Daphne said.
Ghorley glanced up. ‘What? Oh, I was just… just wondering how you were travelling to Slateford.’
‘We have a carriage,’ she smiled, ‘with Holdings horses. Lovely beasts, as long as I don’t get close enough to smell them.’
Ghorley coughed, and his face calmed.
‘When you get to Slateford,’ he said, ‘be sure to ask Chief Killop to overturn his foolish ban on missionaries entering the clan’s estate. No one is forced to join our religion, but surely it’s fair that everyone has the chance to listen to our message?’
‘That’s a matter for him,’ she said, ‘and I don’t intend to ruin our first moments together by discussing the church.’
‘So you’ll bring it up after an appropriate interval?’
The Magelands Box Set Page 105
