As they lifted Killop, Daphne sent a thin thread of vision into his mind.
She flinched, sensing the raw pain that his consciousness had retreated from. His thoughts screamed, and his memories lay scorched and shredded. She tried to weave more protection around him, but there was nothing to latch on to, just agony.
Daphne started crying, and Draewyn put an arm around her shoulder.
‘There, there,’ she said. ‘I’m sure he’ll be fine.’
Bedig, Dyam and Bridget lowered Killop onto his bed. Dyam glanced at Draewyn, and they nodded and left, taking Lilyann with them.
Bedig and Bridget stood to one side, as Daphne held Karalyn and wept.
‘I think we should tell Bridget,’ Bedig said.
‘Tell me what?’ Bridget said. ‘Do you know what happened?’
‘It was Karalyn,’ Daphne said, ‘but you can’t tell anyone outside this room.’
Bridget stared at her, mouth open.
‘It’s true,’ said Bedig. ‘Both bits.’
‘She has mage powers?’ Bridget said.
‘Yes,’ Daphne said, ‘but she’s never done anything like this before. She can sense my moods, and I was angry with him.’ She looked down at Killop’s unconscious body. ‘I wanted to hit him. Karalyn sensed it, and…’
‘She did this,’ Bridget said. ‘Fucksake, Daphne, I don’t know if I can keep this quiet. Your daughter is a danger to everyone. What if you get angry with Bedig, or me? Fuck, Lilyann won’t last a day.’
‘I’ll stay in this room for now,’ Daphne said, ‘with Killop and Karalyn. No one will be in any danger. I just need to figure out how to stop her from doing it again.’
‘Do you think you’ll be able to?’
‘I think so,’ she said. ‘I have to try.’
‘All right,’ Bridget said. ‘I’ll not say anything about this, but if you can’t stop her, we’ll be having this discussion again.’
‘I understand,’ Daphne said. ‘Just give me a few days.’
Bridget nodded, then glanced at Bedig, and the two Brig left the bedroom.
Daphne sat on the mattress next to Killop, and gazed at Karalyn. She entered her daughter’s mind, but could see no regret, or even any real memory of what had happened. The child’s consciousness intertwined with her mother’s, and Karalyn beamed in joy.
Daphne turned toward Killop, leaned over and kissed his clammy forehead. She sat Karalyn down and took Killop’s hand. A sense of helplessness fell upon her. She had lied to Bridget. She had no idea how to stop her daughter.
‘What have you done, Kara-bear?’
Chapter 15
Winning
Broadwater, Kingdom of Sanang – 24th Day, Second Third Autumn 506
Agang was glad that Chane had gone, that she wasn’t there to witness his failure.
Rain was falling, but he ignored it, standing still and alone on the roof of the Great Hall, the highest point in Broadwater.
A third had passed since Chane had left, a third in which the news had grown grimmer by the day. More scattered veterans of engagements with the rebels had streamed into Broadwater, their will to fight extinguished.
Beechwoods, his home for nearly a decade, had been taken, and burned to the ground, Drechtan and his garrison along with it. The firewitch had a simple method of dealing with any village, homestead or fort that tried to stand against her. Surrender, or burn. And if you surrendered, you had to join her army. Drechtan had refused to surrender, probably knowing he would be killed either way, and Beechwoods had burned.
Agang had moved his remaining regiments to the west of Broadwater, to block their advance, but the rebels had surprised him, and circled round to the south, crossing the Twinth near the mountains. The smoke on the horizon was coming from the east, about ten miles distant he guessed.
That it was the firewitch, there was no doubt. Scouts and fleeing civilians had been running towards Broadwater down the east road all morning, splashing across the river fords into the town. The main street was filled with wagons that had been prepared to transport the last Holdings out of Sanang, but the trip had been cancelled when it became clear the rebels were advancing down the road the evacuees had hoped to take.
Legate Robban had been furious, and had ordered every Holdings up to the citadel for safety. They knew what happened to their folk who were captured by B’Dang, and many locals had mocked the fearful expressions on their faces.
He scanned the town’s defences. Thick palisade walls were useless against the firewitch, and there was no knowing where she might choose to break through. Agang had two thousand soldiers in the town, while reports stated that the rebels had at least twenty times that number. It didn’t matter where she broke through. The town was doomed.
He had never received definitive word that Mandalecht was dead, and he harboured wild hopes that his faithful one-eyed commander would appear, leading his regiments to the fords of the Twinth, the site of so many battles against the Holdings. This time Agang would be fighting his own people. To them, he was just like the Holdings, and represented the empire, which they had rejected.
Fools, he thought. They would rather descend back into barbarism and warfare than embrace any kind of progress. With B’Dang in charge, Sanang would revert to its worst, a land where lives were worth nothing. He had tried to end the violence, and this was his reward.
He had been unable to look Pieper in the eye since Chane had told him about the war god, and the powers possessed by the Holdings mages. She had worked it out, while he had been blind and gullible. How they must have laughed at him, fooled by an illusion into allying with the Holdings, instead of crushing them.
If he ever got his hands on the priest responsible, he would rip his head from his shoulders.
He was relieved that he had told no one else about his vision during the siege of Plateau City. Hodang and his other advisors believed the alliance had been due to Agang’s strategic foresight, rather than the result of a Holdings priest donning a mask and impersonating the war god.
It was too late to do anything about it, he knew, as he watched the smoke grow closer. The firewitch was razing a swathe of forest by the road, where a small lookout fort stood, still several miles from the town.
‘Uncle,’ he heard from behind him.
Agang said nothing as Gadang approached.
‘The garrison is on full alert,’ he said, ‘and is awaiting your orders.’
The king nodded.
‘I will go down and lead the defence of the town myself,’ he said. ‘You will remain in the citadel to protect the royal household. If I fall, you will be king. I trust you will do what is required.’
Gadang’s face paled. ‘Yes, uncle.’
Agang turned and made his way down the steep wooden steps, Gadang following. They passed by the floors of the Great Hall, where guards and servants rushed down corridors. On the ground floor groups of people were milling around, clutching onto their possessions, or carrying weapons. Pieper and Legate Robban tried to get his attention as Agang strode towards the main entrance, but he ignored them. A squad of soldiers were waiting for him in the mustering yard in front of the hall, and he nodded to their officer.
‘Your Majesty,’ he bowed.
‘Let’s go,’ Agang said, and the squad moved into a flanking formation.
‘Wait!’ a voice cried.
Agang turned to see Hodang run across the yard.
‘Your Majesty,’ he panted. ‘Where are you going? The citadel is the most secure part of Broadwater. We agreed to stay here.’
‘And you shall,’ Agang said. ‘Lock up the citadel once we’ve gone. I intend to confront B’Dang D’Bang from the town walls, where my people can see me.’
For the first time Agang could remember, Hodang struggled to find anything to say.
‘Don’t worry old friend,’ Agang said. ‘I don’t intend to die down there. At least not before I’ve strangled the life out of that bastard B’Dang.’
‘Y
ou have a plan, your Majesty?’
‘No.’
Agang turned and began walking towards the citadel gates, his escort keeping pace. As they reached the wide earthen ramp leading down into the town, the stout wooden gates of the citadel were closed behind them with a thud.
They passed the old training grounds on their left, where so many of Agang’s regiments had been drilled. On their right was a row of walled-off warehouses, filled with the remainder of the gold and valuables taken from Rahain, the treasury in the citadel having been filled up. All of it would soon be in the hands of B’Dang, Agang thought, trembling with rage.
Soldiers filled the main street, the civilians having been forced back into the residential areas in the northern half of the town. The wagons that had been meant for the Holdings withdrawal were now blocking the gates to the ford, lashed together and piled up. Like a bonfire, Agang frowned.
The gatehouse towers were fully manned, with crossbowmen lining the narrow battlements. Agang made his way there, passing groups of soldiers, many drinking or smoking to prepare themselves. At the gatehouse, soldiers cleared a path for him, and he ascended to the top of the main tower astride the gate.
No one spoke as they waited. A soldier handed the king a stick of keenweed, and Agang took a long draw before passing it on. The rain had cleared, and there were a few breaks in the overcast afternoon sky. The smoke in the east grew nearer, until Agang could hear the crackle and roar of the forest burning, then the shouts and cries of thousands of voices.
Agang squinted, looking into the forest, and saw them, rebels running towards the ford, swarming through the trees and along the muddy road. Some wore pieces of armour, but most held just a spear or sword. There was a low rumble of noise from the town, as those on the walls caught sight of the enemy approach, and spread the word back to their comrades.
The rebels emerged from the forest, and halted on the banks of the ford, yelling and screaming at the town walls. They soon filled the riverside, spreading back and out, massing in their thousands. Agang heard the soldier next him let out a sob.
Through the centre of the horde a path was cleared, and down it walked a group, several of whom stood more than a head higher than the others.
‘The firewitch,’ gasped a soldier.
‘Shut your mouth,’ the sergeant spat.
A chant rose up from the rebels by the ford, gaining in volume.
‘Kill-kill, kill-kill, kill-kill,’ it went on, droning up to the soldiers on the gatehouse. Someone in the town screamed.
The group reached the front of the mass of warriors, and stopped at the edge of the ford.
Among them were three Clackdomyn, a man and two women. Next to them Agang recognised B’Dang, and felt anger take hold of him. He put a hand on the timber battlements, the urge to leap down and run at that bastard almost impossible to resist. He felt the other soldiers on the tower back off.
‘Agang Garo,’ B’Dang D’Bang cried, and the chanting stilled. ‘You fucking traitor. You arse-licking Holdings-lover. Did you suck the Emperor’s balls so you could wear that pretty little crown?’ He laughed, swaggering on the river bank. ‘Do you see who I’ve brought with me? Today it all ends for you, and by sunset I’ll be jerking off over your corpse.’
‘That’s enough of your shite, B’Dang,’ said the brown-haired Clackdomyn woman, striding forward. She squinted up at the gatehouse. ‘Agang Garo, you up there?’
‘I am,’ he called down.
‘Right,’ she said. ‘Well, it’s fucking simple. Kylon here will explain it.’
The Clackdomyn man stepped forward. He was dressed in a long black coat, his dark hair falling past his shoulders.
‘The empire is evil,’ he called out, ‘and will lead us all to death. We must fight it. You are a servant of the empire, and an obstacle in our way. Surrender, and we will spare the townsfolk. Those of fighting age will join our army of liberation. These are our terms. If you refuse, Keira will burn you.’
The firewitch performed a mock bow, and the rebel warriors burst into laughter.
‘I will fight B’Dang D’Bang,’ Agang cried out. ‘I claim him. Warrior chief to warrior chief. The victor wins the crown.’
B’Dang surged forwards, but the blonde Kellach woman put out an arm to block him, as warriors and soldiers on both sides watched.
‘Get a fucking grip,’ Keira cried. ‘Do you think I’m stupid? No deal.’
‘B’Dang is a coward,’ Agang yelled.
Keira shook her head. ‘Last chance. You taking our terms?’
‘I will not bow to a savage.’
Keira laughed.
Agang watched as the firewitch turned, and walked back into the mass of rebels. She spoke to B’Dang on the way, the rebel chief looking unhappy with having been restrained.
‘Make sure every fire bucket’s ready,’ Agang heard the sergeant say, and a soldier ran down the steps.
Nothing happened for a few minutes, and Agang had time for his anger to cool. The rebels stayed where they were, massed on the river bank. Smoke from a fire close by rose in intensity, and within seconds a vast stretch of forest was ablaze. The flames kept away from the rebel warriors, who turned to watch. Gouts of flame leapt up and formed a cloud of roiling fire, growing larger and larger as the firewitch fed it from the burning trees below.
The great fire-cloud began to move, rolling towards Broadwater until it hung suspended over the town, casting a flickering shadow over the houses and streets. Fiery drops started to fall like rain, catching alight wherever they landed. Soldiers and civilians screamed and ran as the drops of fire hit them. Wooden roofs went up in flames, along with wagons and the canopies covering the market.
After a few seconds it was over. The fire rain stopped, the flaming cloud remaining above them.
Agang turned back to face the ford.
The firewitch was standing there, her right arm pointed at the sky, where the fire cloud hovered. The man Kylon was next to her, and a shorter woman, with her face covered in white paint, was at Keira’s side, offering her a drink.
‘Do you wish to reconsider?’ Kylon cried up to Agang.
The king staggered, his head reeling with the smoke and screams coming from the town behind him,
‘The townsfolk will be spared?’ he said, his heart despairing.
‘They will,’ Kylon said, ‘but all men will be coming with us.’
‘And the Holdings?’
Kylon shook his head. ‘Our terms cover only the Sanang.’
Agang glanced back at the town. Most of the fires had been put out, but a few were still burning. Above their heads, the fiery cloud bubbled and sparked.
‘My arm’s getting tired,’ Keira called out. ‘If you don’t make yer mind up soon I’m fucking dropping the lot on ye.’
Agang turned to face the rebels. Every soldier and warrior stood in silence, all eyes on him.
He nodded.
‘Say it,’ Kylon cried.
Agang swallowed hard. ‘We surrender.’
‘Open the gates,’ called Kylon, amid a roar from the rebel warriors.
Agang gestured to a soldier by his side. ‘Do it.’
The soldier’s mouth opened, then he sprinted down the steps.
By the riverbank, Keira swept her arm away. The cloud of fire was extinguished in a second, and small particles of ash fell onto the town, or were carried away by the wind.
Agang bowed his head.
He heard the heavy bolts of the gates below him slide free, and the wooden doors swung open. Rebel warriors were moving forward through the ford, their feet splashing in the shallow water. They were chanting again, and crowing in triumph. The soldiers in the gatehouse lowered their crossbows, and waited for Agang to speak.
‘We must return to the citadel at once, your Majesty,’ the sergeant said. ‘You must not be taken prisoner.’
The other soldiers stared from the king to the sergeant, then one stepped forward and plunged his sword through the chest of
the sergeant. Another joined in, and another, until the sergeant fell, bloody and torn.
The soldiers turned to face Agang, their weapons trained on him.
‘Give me your sword,’ one shouted at Agang.
‘What are you doing?’ said another, his eyes wild.
‘We give them Agang,’ the first soldier said, ‘and we might live through this.’
Agang’s hand rushed to the hilt of his sword, but a soldier clubbed him over the back of his head with the butt of a crossbow, and he crashed to the ground. He curled up, wrapping his arms over his head as the blows rained down on him. Punches, kicks, and the hard end of a crossbow struck him. He suppressed his instincts, and allowed his body to be battered, the need to keep his secrets greater than the fear of a beating.
The soldiers dragged him to the top of the steep wooden stairs, and threw him down. He landed in a heap, the wind knocked out of him, his body screaming from a dozen injuries. The squad followed him down, and pulled him across the floor by the arms. He jerked his eyes open, writhing and struggling, and more punches came down, into his face and stomach, until his eyes were full of blood and he stopped resisting.
He passed out for a moment, wavering between consciousness and oblivion. He sensed daylight, and the gravel of the ground he was being dragged over. His arms were dropped, and he lay on the earth, breathing in ragged gulps, his blood seeping into the soil beneath him.
Something warm and wet struck his face, and he gagged and spluttered, his hand reaching and rubbing his eyes.
He heard laughter, and through the blood he saw B’Dang D’Bang standing over him, pulling up his pants. He spat onto Agang.
‘You belong to me now,’ B’Dang said. ‘I win.’
He turned to the warriors by his side. ‘Carry him. We’re going up to the citadel. The civilians down here are off-limits, but up there?’ He pointed up the ramp to the walls of the citadel. ‘Up there, we can do what we like.’
The rebel officers started shouting, and rough hands grabbed hold of Agang, and carried him towards the ramp. With the blood clearing from his eyes, he saw his soldiers being lined up in the street and disarmed, surrounded by groups of rebels.
The Magelands Box Set Page 112
