The Magelands Box Set

by Christopher Mitchell

  He walked into their communal room, and placed the lamp on a table. There was a flagon sitting, with a towel covering the open top, and he picked it up and poured himself a fresh, cold ale. He caught the scent of an extinguished candle, and turned.

  In the dim shadows he saw Lilyann sitting on a chair with a book on her lap, a candle smoking next to her.

  ‘What are you doing up?’ he asked.

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Reading?’

  She shrugged.

  ‘Do you want a drink?’

  ‘It’s the middle of the night, Chief.’

  ‘Aye, but I can’t sleep, and it looks like you can’t either.’

  ‘Alright then. An ale.’

  He poured one for her and took the two mugs and the lamp over to the low table where Lilyann was sitting.

  He handed her one of the ales.

  ‘What’s the book?’

  ‘You wouldn’t approve.’

  ‘I’ll be the judge of that.’ He put his hand out.

  She passed him the book. He scanned the front cover.

  Principles of Creator Theology

  He resisted the immediate impulse to throw the book to the far corner of the room, and kept his face steady.

  ‘Interesting?’

  She eyed him from under heavy lids. ‘It’s all right.’

  He flicked the pages open and read a short section.

  ‘There’s a lot of difficult Rahain words in here,’ he said. ‘I’m impressed you can read it.’

  Lilyann said nothing.

  ‘Where did you get it?’

  ‘I asked someone to go into town and see if an alliance soldier would lend me a copy.’

  He smiled. ‘Dyam?’

  ‘I’m not saying who.’

  ‘Fair enough.’ He passed the book back to her.

  ‘You’re not going to confiscate it then?’

  He shook his head. ‘Would that stop you getting another copy?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then it would be pointless. I don’t blame you for being curious. Has Dean read it?’

  She shrugged. ‘He’s not interested. Prefers to read his stupid books about warriors and monsters. You know, kid’s stuff. He might as well be reading Toam and Tyella books.’

  ‘I remember them,’ Killop said. ‘See Toam run. Tyella is playing with the ball. Took me ages to get past all that.’

  Lilyann laughed.

  Killop took a drink of ale.

  ‘You may as well be the first to hear,’ he said. ‘Daphne will be arriving tomorrow with Karalyn.’

  ‘Is that why you’re up?’ she said. ‘I didn’t hear a messenger.’

  Killop tapped the side of his head with a finger. ‘She talked to me in here.’

  ‘That night Deacon Millar was round,’ Lilyann said, ‘he told us about Daphne. I asked him why she was a renegade from the church.’

  ‘And what did he say?’

  ‘He wouldn’t tell me.’

  ‘And what do you conclude from that?’

  ‘That it must be really bad.’

  ‘That wasn’t the conclusion I was coming to.’

  ‘Well, what do you think she’s done?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said, ‘but if I had to guess, the church asked her to work for them, and she said no. She’s a powerful mage, and the church don’t like that she’s not under their control.’

  Lilyann looked dubious.

  ‘But the Creator himself spoke to her,’ she said. ‘How could she turn her back on him after that?’

  Killop said nothing.

  ‘You don’t believe it, do you Chief?’ she said. ‘You think Daphne’s lying.’

  ‘I haven’t heard Daphne claim it’s true,’ he said. ‘We’ve only the word of Millar that it happened, and you’ll have to forgive my scepticism about anything he says.’

  ‘This book,’ she said, holding up the volume, ‘contains many examples of when the Creator spoke to the prophets of the Holdings, some going back hundreds of years. Every time, what he said turned out to be true.’

  ‘And how do you know the book isn’t full of lies?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘Are you going to ask Daphne about the Creator?’ she said. ‘If you don’t, I will. I want to hear what she has to say about it.’

  ‘I’m sure it’ll come up, but it’s not the first thing on my list.’

  ‘The Creator of the universe spoke to your girlfriend, the mother of your daughter, and you don’t care? Are you not even a wee bit curious to find out what he said to her? See if she holds the meaning of life?’

  Killop shifted in his seat.

  Lilyann chuckled.

  ‘What colour are her eyes?’ she asked.

  ‘Green.’

  ‘All right, so you do know something about her. Where’s she going to stay?’

  ‘Wherever she wants.’

  ‘Are you going to marry her?’

  ‘None of your business.’

  ‘Of course it’s my business,’ she snapped. ‘We all live up here like some weird family, with you as da, Bridget as the crazy auntie, Liam as grumpy old granddad, and Dean as the moody wee brother. Now you’re about to add a new woman into our lives, and a baby?’

  ‘You all need to back off when they get here,’ Killop said. ‘Daphne and I have a lot of catching up to do.’

  ‘Eurgh,’ Lilyann cried. ‘If that means what I think it does.’

  A door opened.

  ‘Who the fuck’s making all that noise?’ Bridget said as she staggered out, wrapped in a night robe.

  ‘Hello, auntie,’ Lilyann said, laughing.

  Bridget gave her a look.

  ‘I got a message from Daphne,’ Killop said. ‘She and Karalyn will be here tomorrow evening.’

  Bridget’s face lit up. ‘Really?’

  ‘Aye,’ said Killop. ‘She sent me a vision.’

  ‘Hold on a minute,’ Bridget said, and disappeared back into her room. She emerged soon after, with a bottle in her hands.

  ‘Some of Brodie’s latest try at gin,’ she said.

  ‘Any good?’ Killop asked.

  ‘We’re about to find out.’

  Bridget came over and sat down next to them.

  ‘So,’ she said, ‘Daphne sent you a message in the middle of the fucking night?’

  ‘I wondered about that myself,’ Lilyann said. ‘Does she not go to sleep at the same time as everyone else?’

  Bridget poured out the gin.

  ‘Just a wee measure for you,’ she said to Lilyann.

  They took a moment to sip from their mugs.

  ‘Fuck me,’ said Bridget. ‘This could strip Lilyann’s make-up off.’

  ‘Cheeky cow,’ the mage cried.

  ‘That one-legged old bastard’s not got it quite right,’ the Brig woman went on, ‘but it’ll do the job.’

  ‘Anyway,’ Lilyann said, ‘we were talking about Daphne’s night-time activities.’

  Killop hesitated, unsure whether to speak about his daughter’s role in what had happened.

  ‘Can I have another gin, please?’ Lilyann said, holding up her empty mug.

  ‘You can have an ale,’ Bridget said. ‘Rest of the gin’s for us grown ups.’

  Lilyann tutted, then got up and went to the table.

  ‘It’s a wee bit complicated,’ Killop said to Bridget, but the Brig woman was too busy pouring more gin to notice.

  ‘Right,’ she said, setting out the refilled mugs. ‘Let’s hear it.’

  ‘I was sleeping,’ he said. ‘Dreaming about Keira as it happens, about something that happened when we were young, when I woke up, and Daphne was in my head.’

  Lilyann made a face as she sat down with her ale.

  ‘They’re on the road,’ he went on, ‘and Daphne was scouting out with her powers. I don’t think she meant to wake me.’

  ‘So she’s spying on you?’ Lilyann said. ‘At night?’

  ‘Does seem a bit weird,’ Brid
get said.

  ‘I wonder what she thought she was going to see,’ Lilyann said. She shivered. ‘She might be looking at us now. Watching us.’

  ‘Don’t be stupid,’ Killop said.

  ‘Can you be sure she’s not?’ Lilyann said.

  ‘She’s not,’ he said. ‘Listen, if you had the same powers as her, and were travelling to a place you’d never been before, where you were going to live and see the father of your child, wouldn’t you be tempted to take a quick look?’

  ‘Fair point,’ Bridget said, ‘if you put it like that.’

  ‘Still gives me the creeps, but,’ Lilyann said.

  ‘Pyre’s bawsack,’ a voice said as another door opened.

  ‘It’s grumpy granddad,’ Lilyann cried, her ale mug empty again.

  ‘You lot having a fucking party?’ Liam said.

  ‘Come and have a drink,’ Bridget said. ‘We’re celebrating.’

  ‘Aye?’ he said, remaining in his doorway. ‘What?’

  ‘Daphne’s arriving tomorrow,’ Bridget said.

  ‘Oh aye?’ Liam said, wandering over. He noticed the gin on the table, and sat.

  ‘So,’ he said, as Bridget poured him a drink, ‘she’s on her way?’

  ‘Aye, with Karalyn,’ said Killop, ‘and Bedig.’

  ‘Who the fuck’s Bedig?’ said Bridget.

  ‘Friend of Keira and Kylon,’ Killop said. ‘Met up with them after the invasion. He was part of their squad when they were fighting in Kell.’

  ‘Then why’s he with Daphne?’ Lilyann asked.

  ‘He’s been watching her back,’ Killop said. ‘I think Kylon asked him to.’

  ‘Then I’m glad he’s there,’ Bridget said. ‘I mean, if he was in Keira’s squad, he must be a good fighter. If any Old Free terrorists are out on the road, between him and Daphne they should be all right.’

  She glanced at Killop.

  ‘You did warn her about the Old Free rebels, didn’t you?’

  Killop shook his head. ‘I was awoken in the middle of a dream. I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly.’

  ‘She awoke you in the middle of the night?’ said Liam. ‘Why was she sending you a message at that time?’

  Lilyann groaned.

  ‘If I’m going to have to hear about it again,’ she said. ‘I’ll need another gin.’

  Killop slept in until midday, and arose with a crushing hangover.

  He staggered to the window and threw open the shutters, letting a blast of cold air into his bedroom. He retched, his stomach cramping. He turned and gazed at the room. It was a mess, with clothes lying about in discarded piles, books and papers littering a table, and the unmade bed reeking of sweat from the previous night.

  He would have to clean it up before Daphne arrived. Maybe after another sleep.

  There was a knock at the door.

  ‘You up?’ Bridget’s voice yelled.

  ‘Wait a minute,’ he said, reaching on the floor for a pair of long shorts and pulling them on.

  ‘You ready?’ she shouted through the door.

  ‘Aye.’

  Bridget came in and looked around the room. She was fully dressed, in leathers and warrior gear, her short hair tied back.

  ‘You call this fucking ready?’ she said. ‘We’re going to be late.’

  Killop frowned. ‘Late for what?’

  ‘We arranged it all last night,’ she said. ‘Me and you are picking up a squad in town and going out on the road to escort Daphne into Slateford.’

  ‘We are?’

  ‘Aye, ya numpty,’ she said. ‘It’ll take us an hour to get to town, then another two to reach the alliance fort. Kalden’s getting our squad together now.’

  ‘Kalden?’ Killop said. ‘Was he there last night?’

  ‘Fucksake, Chief,’ she said. ‘Brodie’s gin really messed with your head. No, Kalden wasn’t there. I spoke to him this morning.’

  Killop sat on the bed, his head swimming.

  ‘I’m going to need a couple of minutes.’

  ‘You’ve got ten,’ she said. ‘We’ll walk off your hangover.’

  If anything, Killop’s headache was worse by the time they reached Slateford Town, and met the squad of militia that was going to accompany them north into Rahain proper.

  Kalden had briefed them, and was there to see them off.

  ‘You look rough as fuck,’ he said to Killop.

  ‘Thanks,’ he said, taking a skin of water and drinking it in one go.

  They left the town by the northern road, and crossed over the invisible line that separated Slateford from the rest of Rahain. The estate had a thick forest to its north where the valley opened up, and Killop had ordered it cut back a hundred yards deep. The road went through the cleared area, thick with tree stumps, then disappeared into the forest.

  By mid-afternoon they sighted the alliance fortress, on the far side of the treeline, where the hillside had been carved into long terraces. The fort sat on several levels piled up the flank of the hill, with stone walls and a tall tower that commanded the landscape.

  The road continued to the side of the fort, running under its high walls, in range of the crossbows on the battlements. In front of the fort’s gates, a roadblock had been set up, guarded by numerous troops.

  ‘We’d better check in with them,’ Bridget said. ‘They’ll want to know what fourteen armed Kellach are doing roaming the roads.’

  ‘Aye,’ he said. ‘The truth should suffice.’

  She nodded.

  As they approached, the troopers on the roadblock raised a signal flag to their comrades on the fort wall, and within seconds the battlements were bristling with crossbows.

  Bridget stepped forward as they drew near.

  ‘Good afternoon,’ she said. ‘I’m the Herald of the Severed Clan.’ She gestured to Killop. ‘This is the Chief.’

  She held out a long silver key, a copy of the one given to them by Laodoc, and the agreed symbol of the clan’s authority.

  A door set into the town gates opened, and several officers emerged.

  The lead officer, a captain by his insignia, saw the key, and looked up at Killop.

  ‘What’s the Chief of the Severed Clan doing with armed warriors upon the road?’

  ‘We’re looking for friends travelling to Slateford,’ Bridget said. ‘The warriors are in case we bump into any Old Free along the way.’

  The captain nodded, sizing up the Kellach standing on the highway. Killop noticed that the officer was one of only a few Holdings present. Most of the alliance soldiers were Rahain.

  ‘I’ll need to log it, of course, Chief,’ the captain said.

  ‘Aye,’ said Killop.

  The captain nodded again. ‘On your way then, Chief. Safe journey.’

  Killop gestured to his squad, and they moved past the roadblock and were soon out of range of the walls of the fortress.

  ‘Did you see?’ said Bridget as they walked. ‘Hardly any Holdings left. That explains the drop in tax revenue. The bars in town are not seeing anything like the trade they were getting before.’

  ‘I’m sure Slateford will cope without a few drunk alliance troopers.’

  ‘It’s worse than that, but,’ she said. ‘If the Rahain are turning to the creator-faith, and that faith says you’re not allowed to drink, then we might have a problem selling our wine. And if no one buys it, we won’t be able to pay off our loans, and we’ll have to get another one to cover our costs, and by that point we’ll be snowed under in debt.’

  ‘But we’ll have a lot of wine to drink.’

  ‘Ha ha.’

  ‘One problem at a time,’ he said. ‘Brodie’s not finished making any wine yet, let’s get that done first.’

  ‘We need to think about these things now, Killop.’

  He nodded.

  The sun was falling behind the high ridge to the west, casting the long valley into shadow. Ahead, the road hugged the hillside, passing more patches of forest. A chill autumnal wind whistled down the
slopes, reaching through their leathers and tunics.

  Killop breathed in the mountain air, and realised his hangover had gone.

  The sky was dimming after a further hour’s march up the road, when the squad leader raised her hand.

  ‘Chief,’ she said. ‘Did you hear that?’

  Killop strained his ears, as the squad halted. Next to him Bridget was staring at the hillside.

  ‘What did you hear?’ he said to the squad leader.

  ‘Footsteps behind us, a clicking…’

  ‘Off the road,’ Killop said, his voice low. ‘Now.’

  He jumped down the bank to their left, the squad following him. He crouched on the rocky hillside, and they waited. After a few minutes, the sound of approaching boots was unmistakable, their soles crunching on the road surface. The last light in the sky was fading when Killop saw them.

  ‘Old Free,’ he whispered to Bridget.

  He watched as they passed. They were all Rahain, armed with crossbows and short swords, their uniforms the same as that worn by the old republic, brown rather than imperial grey.

  ‘Twice as many as us,’ Bridget whispered. ‘What’ll we do? They’re headed straight for Daphne.’

  ‘We’ll follow them,’ he said. ‘Hit them from behind.’

  She nodded.

  The last of the Old Free passed the squad, and disappeared into the gloom.

  Killop waited a moment, then raised his hand. He crept back up onto the road, and waited until the others had joined him.

  ‘Quiet as possible,’ he said. ‘The moment they see us, we charge. No prisoners.’

  The squad nodded, and readied their weapons.

  Bridget gulped.

  ‘You all right?’ Killop said.

  ‘Aye,’ she said. ‘Wasn’t exactly planning for this to happen.’ She drew her sword. ‘It’s been a while.’

  ‘I’ve seen you fight,’ he said. ‘You’ll be fine.’

  Killop pulled his shield from over his shoulder and looked at his squad. After the alliance recruiters had finished their tour of the estate, there had been a stream of Kellach volunteers signing up, and many of the fittest and strongest had left. He knew that for some of the younger ones standing before him, this would be their first fight.