The Magelands Box Set

by Christopher Mitchell

  Flora’s face fell. ‘She might not make it, Keira. She’s dehydrated, and malnourished, and the withdrawal symptoms will only make things worse. Right now, a fever’s burning her up, and I don’t know what to do.’

  ‘Get a doctor,’ Keira said. ‘Use whatever gold we have.’ She threw the coin pouch to the Holdings woman.

  ‘On it,’ she said, clutching the pouch and rushing to the door.

  Keira pulled a chair close to Kylon, and sat.

  ‘Why?’

  Kylon opened his eyes and gazed at her.

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Fuck yer apology, ya lowlife piece of crap,’ Keira spat. ‘Why the fuck would ye drug a wee girl?’

  ‘So her mother couldn’t find her.’

  ‘Ya sick bastard.’

  ‘I did what had to be done,’ he said. ‘It pained me, but I had to do it.’

  ‘Fuck you. It’s always the same. Ye only do bad shit because it’s for the greater good, or so ye fucking believe. Ye’ve gone too far this time, but. You fucked with my family. There’s no coming back from that.’

  ‘Are you going to kill me?’

  Keira sat back. ‘I don’t know.’

  Kallie glanced at her. ‘Not feeling sorry for this arsehole, are ye?’

  ‘No,’ she said, ‘but maybe we should keep him for Daphne and Killop. I’m sure they’d want a quick word with him.’

  ‘Aye,’ Kallie smiled. ‘I’m sure they would.’

  Chapter 30

  Chase

  Hold Stringer, Imperial Holdings – 7th Day, Second Third Winter 507

  Killop had never been on a boat upon the Inner Sea, but being in the middle of the Holdings plains, with nothing but an ocean of flatlands surrounding them, made him feel like he could imagine it. He sat at the entrance of the little tent, watching the sun rise in the east. At that moment in Kell, snow would be covering every glen and hillside, but in the Holdings, another warm and cloudless dawn beckoned.

  The rays of the sun warmed everything they touched, removing the chill from the air in just a few minutes as the night slipped away, and the new day arrived.

  He picked up a leather pouch. It was almost empty, but he took a pinch of tealeaves, and sprinkled them into the bottom of two mugs. He placed them by the fire, where a pot of water was starting to boil.

  He lifted his own mug of cold water.

  ‘Happy birthday, wee bear.’

  He closed his eyes for a moment and listened to the silence, sending his love to wherever his daughter was.

  The tent rustled behind him, and he moved out of the way to let Chane pass. The Holdings woman crawled outside and slumped down next to him.

  ‘Morning,’ he said.

  She grunted, and lit a cigarette.

  Killop took the pot of water from the low fire and filled the two mugs.

  ‘Tea?’

  Chane took a mug, and rubbed her head, her long hair tangled and falling over her face.

  He turned and opened the tent.

  ‘Daphne, tea?’

  ‘Coming,’ groaned a voice.

  She emerged from the tent, her face tired, but her green eyes burning. She kissed him, and sat next to the fire, picking up her mug. Chane offered her a cigarette.

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Well,’ said Chane, stretching, ‘another fucking day.’

  ‘Not just any day,’ Daphne said.

  ‘Shit,’ said Chane. ‘You’re right, I almost forgot. It’s Karalyn’s birthday.’

  ‘I can’t believe she’s two already,’ Daphne said, shaking her head. ‘This time last year, we were preparing to leave Slateford.’

  ‘Aye,’ Killop said, ‘and we had that wee party for her.’

  Daphne smiled.

  ‘You can hold the biggest party ever when we find her,’ Chane said.

  Killop threw some roots into the pot, and put it back onto the fire.

  Daphne glanced away, her stomach rumbling. Chane pulled a notepad and pencil from a bag and began scribbling.

  ‘Seventeen miles yesterday,’ she said. ‘That makes two hundred and eleven altogether, since we left Celine and the others.’

  ‘We’re slipping,’ Daphne said. ‘We need to do over twenty today to catch up.’

  ‘I don’t have any maps of this region,’ Chane said, ‘but I think we’re close to the border between Holds Nestor and Stringer. Shit, I’ve been down this road before, but it was ages ago. I remember passing a large settlement in Hold Stringer, where there were dozens of big tobacco warehouses, and cigarette factories.’

  ‘Wonder if any of it’s still standing,’ Killop said.

  Chane shrugged. ‘Hold Stringer wasn’t part of the rebellion, so it might have been spared.’

  ‘I don’t think the Emperor cares,’ Daphne said. ‘Every Hold he passed through has been devastated, whether they were with the rebels or not.’ She sighed. ‘And we should stop calling him the Emperor. It’s the Creator, not Guilliam.’

  ‘I know,’ said Chane, ‘but it’s hard to get my head around. I mean, why the fuck would god come down to earth?’

  Daphne shrugged. ‘Maybe he didn’t mean to.’

  ‘Would explain why he’s so pissed off.’

  The women stubbed out their cigarettes.

  ‘Ready?’ Killop said, and they nodded.

  They packed the tent and belongings up, and Killop slung the large pack over his shoulder. He stamped out the fire, and tucked the boiled roots into his belt. They walked to the road and faced south.

  ‘Will we run for an hour?’ Daphne said.

  They nodded, and set off.

  Killop let his mind wander as they travelled, keeping his eyes on the straight road as it cut across the vast plains. The sun rose higher in the sky, and the day warmed up. They passed empty fields of low stubble for most of the morning, while they alternated between running and walking. At noon, they went under a monumental stone archway across the road.

  ‘Hold Stringer,’ said Daphne, as Killop gazed at the enormous blocks of marble.

  The crops by the side of the road changed from barley to tobacco, but the fields were as empty as before, the cut stalks of the tobacco plants marking row after row into the distance.

  ‘At least they got the harvest in,’ Chane said as they strode down the road.

  They slowed as they saw a cluster of cottages and out-buildings ahead. As they approached they could see the fire damage. The roofs of the houses had gone, and the walls were blackened and scorched. The decomposing bodies of several dogs lay out by the front of the cottages, flies buzzing around them.

  They walked on, and rounded the far side of a large burnt-out barn. They stopped. Against the wall of the barn lay over a dozen corpses, lined up in a row, their heads missing.

  ‘Fuck the Creator,’ said Chane. ‘Why did he create us, if he hates us?’

  ‘He wants to terrorise us,’ Daphne said, ‘make us too afraid to disobey him again.’

  A wind caught up, blowing ash from the barn into their faces. They turned, and continued down the road.

  They passed more small settlements, each treated in the same way, with no survivors. As the afternoon wore on, and the sun descended the western sky, they saw a town in the distance. To its left ran a long line of large, low warehouses that took up an area far larger than the town itself.

  ‘Stringerton,’ Chane said. ‘That’s where half the tobacco in the Holdings is stored. Somewhere on the other side of town are the factories.’

  Killop squinted. ‘Nothing looks damaged from here.’

  They walked on, approaching the town. They passed the first buildings, a pair of abandoned cottages, their windows smashed, and front doors wide open. Trails of clothes and household items were scattered across the ground.

  The sun dipped to the horizon, and it grew darker.

  Around them the town loomed, the empty, silent streets branching from the main road, with dark houses and stone tenement blocks. The seven stars appeared over the
eastern horizon, and Killop used their faint light to keep to the road.

  ‘I can’t see a fucking thing,’ said Chane. ‘There’s no one here.’

  ‘Wait,’ said Killop. ‘What was that?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Daphne said. ‘It sounded like a door closing. Come on.’

  They went down a side street bordered by high houses, and a low glow of illumination appeared. They turned a corner, and saw a tavern by the side of the road, light escaping from under its front door.

  ‘Stay where you are,’ said a man’s voice.

  A lamp was un-hooded, and they blinked in its bright light.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ the man said.

  ‘We’re travelling south,’ Daphne said. ‘Looking for my daughter.’

  ‘You got any food?’ said Chane. ‘We’ve got money.’

  There was a long pause.

  ‘You’ll have to leave your weapons at the door.’

  ‘Alright.’

  The lamp was hooded again, and the tavern door opened. A woman and a man, both with crossbows, came out onto the street. The man glanced around, peering down the dark roads.

  ‘Were you followed?’

  ‘No,’ said Daphne.

  The man nodded. ‘Inside.’

  They went through the entrance, the woman ushering them in. The man came in last, and closed the door, sliding a long bolt home. He stared through a slit opening.

  ‘Stack your weapons by the wall,’ the woman said.

  Daphne nodded, and unbuckled her sword belt. They arranged their swords and knives by the door, and the woman gestured for them to follow. She led them into a large room, lit by dozens of oil lamps, and crowded with Holdings folk. They were sitting round tables eating and drinking, a mixture of the young and the old, many of whom had crossbows resting against the benches.

  ‘They’re armed, I see,’ Chane muttered.

  ‘You’re the strangers here,’ the woman said. ‘Sit.’

  Killop looked around for seats as many of the folk stared at him. They moved to the end of a long table, where locals shifted down to give them room on a bench. They sat, and three bowls of broth were placed before them, along with a chunk of bread each.

  ‘Thanks,’ Daphne said. ‘How much do we owe you?’

  ‘We don’t want your money,’ the woman said, sitting opposite them among a group of children, who were all eating the same broth. ‘What in the Creator’s name would we do with it?’

  She watched as they ate.

  Killop finished his bowl first, and pushed it back. ‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘Is this all that remains of the townsfolk?’

  The woman nodded.

  ‘Used to be over a thousand people living here,’ an old man said, ‘until the damned rebellion.’

  ‘It wasn’t the rebels who did this to us,’ the woman said. ‘Put the blame where it’s due.’

  ‘What happened?’ said Daphne.

  ‘The Emperor,’ the woman said. ‘He killed them all.’

  ‘A thousand folk?’ said Killop.

  The woman nodded, her eyes grim. ‘He marched everybody out of the town, to a field by the warehouses. Got them to dig a big hole in the ground, then lined them up and slaughtered them like cattle, while his Rahain soldiers kept anyone from escaping.’

  ‘How did you get away?’ said Daphne.

  ‘I wasn’t there,’ she said. ‘I’m a teacher, and I hid in the school cellar with my class.’ She glanced at the children sitting by her.

  ‘I saw it,’ said a young woman. ‘I was lined up with the others at the edge of the pit. The Emperor was standing, raising his hand at the lines of people. There was blood everywhere, coming from people’s mouths, and eyes…’ She paused. ‘I fell into the pit, and a body fell on top of me. They must have thought I was dead too.’

  ‘We found her,’ said the man sitting next to her, ‘when we went out at night to see what had happened. She was the only one who survived the pit.’

  ‘And the Emperor?’ Daphne said.

  ‘He’d gone by nightfall,’ the older woman said, ‘after his army had ransacked the town for supplies.’

  ‘If he’s gone,’ said Killop, ‘why are you still hiding?’

  The woman frowned. ‘Two days after they left, some of his army came back. They’ve occupied the factories on the southern edge of town.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘There’s a full year’s crop sitting in the warehouses,’ she said. ‘They’ve begun transporting it away south. Must be worth a fortune.’

  ‘The bastards come into town sometimes,’ the old man said. ‘Root about, looking for food, or anything they didn’t steal when they first came through. They know we’re here, but leave us alone, so long as we don’t interfere with them.’

  ‘How many are there?’ Killop said.

  ‘A few hundred, we think,’ the woman said.

  ‘Why?’ the old man smirked. ‘You thinking of taking them on, son?’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘You’ll do no such thing,’ the woman said. ‘You’ll have to promise us, that when you leave tomorrow, you’ll go nowhere near the factories. There’s a path to the west that we can show you in the morning.’

  Daphne nodded. ‘I need to ask you something else,’ she said. ‘Have you seen any other Kellach pass through here since the Emperor left?’

  The woman nodded at Killop. ‘Is that what he is, a Kellach?’

  ‘Yes.’

  She shook her head. ‘He’s the first one of that kind I’ve ever seen.’

  ‘The man we’re looking for may have been cloaked,’ said Daphne. ‘Have any other groups of strangers been here?’

  ‘Just a few Holdings,’ the woman said. ‘Nobody like him.’

  ‘They could have gone around the town,’ Chane said, ‘especially if they wanted to avoid meeting anyone.’

  Daphne nodded.

  ‘You two sound awfully posh,’ said the old man. ‘Are you cavalry officers or something?’

  Daphne glanced at him. ‘Used to be.’

  ‘Rebels?’ he said, narrowing his eyes.

  ‘Does it matter any more?’ Daphne said. ‘The Emperor made no distinction when he slaughtered the people of this town. He doesn’t care about any of us, and he would have invaded anyway, with or without the rebellion.’

  The old man snorted. ‘What utter nonsense. The rebels brought this disaster upon us, and each one of them deserves to be hanged.’

  Some in the crowded room growled their support at his words, while others looked at the floor.

  Daphne stood, her face set firm, and looked around the room.

  ‘I am Holder Fast, leader of the failed rebellion against the insane rule of the Emperor.’

  The room fell into silence.

  ‘I’m on my way to the Plateau to rescue my daughter,’ she went on, her green eyes shining, ‘and then I’m going to kill the Emperor, to avenge the fallen of the Holdings, and to stop him from ever returning.’

  She stared at the old man.

  ‘If you want to hang me, come and get me.’

  Killop and Chane rose, and stood by her side.

  No one moved in the silence, as the townsfolk stared at them.

  A child began to cry.

  The woman stood.

  ‘Lady Holdfast,’ she said, ‘we’d be honoured if you and your party would stay with us tonight, but we’ll also be happy to see you gone in the morning. By being here you endanger us all.’

  ‘I’m grateful for the offer,’ she said, ‘but we’ll not be staying. After this is over, we Holdings will have to come back together, and rebuild our country from the ashes up.’

  ‘You’ll never stop the Emperor,’ cried the old man, ‘but if you want to walk right into his arms, I’ll not be standing in your way. He’ll kill you, Holdfast, and I won’t be shedding any tears for the end of your line.’

  Daphne smiled. ‘We’ll see ourselves out.’

  They turned and walked for the door, folk parting
to get out of their way. They went through to the entrance hall, and picked up their weapons.

  ‘Wasn’t expecting you back so soon,’ said the man by the front door, rising from his seat.

  ‘Thought it better to avoid any trouble,’ Daphne said.

  The man frowned.

  ‘Wait,’ cried a voice.

  They turned to see a young man rush towards them along the hallway. Killop stepped in front of him.

  ‘Aye?’

  ‘That old man in there doesn’t speak for all of us,’ he said. ‘I’m Mannie, Lady Holdfast.’ He bowed. ‘And if you like, I can help guide you through the town.’

  Killop noticed a slight haze pass over Daphne’s eyes.

  ‘Alright,’ she said. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘I want you back by sunset tomorrow, at the latest,’ said the older woman, striding down the hall. She stopped in front of the young man, and patted down his unruly hair.

  ‘Yes, mum,’ he said.

  ‘Here,’ the woman said, passing a bag to Killop. ‘Some food for your journey. Good luck.’

  He nodded.

  The front door opened and the man peered outside.

  ‘All clear,’ he said.

  Daphne shook the woman’s hand, then walked out, Chane a step behind her.

  ‘Take care, Mannie,’ the woman said, kissing her son.

  Killop followed Mannie outside, and the door was closed. Mannie took a small lamp out of his cloak, and opened a side shutter, sending a beam of light shining down the road.

  ‘I’ll take you to a house on the edge of town,’ he said, ‘where you can sleep. It’s next to the path that goes round the factories. Follow me.’

  They set off. Killop stayed at the rear, keeping his night vision away from the light spilling from the lantern. The streets of the town were silent as they passed down a long, wide road. They took a turn to the right, and after a further ten minute’s walk Mannie stopped.

  He shone his torch around.

  ‘These are the last houses before the fields start,’ he said. ‘The road goes west for about three miles, then sweeps south. By the time it reaches the highway, you’ll have passed the factories and the lizards shouldn’t see you. Watch out on the road though, they go up and down it with wagons, taking the tobacco harvest away.’