Needs of the Empire

by Christopher Mitchell

  And are these allegations true, my lord?

  The child is no threat to us, the Lord Vicar said, but Miss Holdfast is indeed a powerful and dangerous mage. That’s why the sooner she’s as far away as possible from Plateau City the better. We cannot afford the risk that she would interfere with the church’s holy purpose. If you come across her tread warily. Her skills rival the best in the church.

  I will, my lord.

  Very well, the Lord Vicar said. Contact me again if anything untoward occurs, otherwise ensure Miss Holdfast is on her way as soon as possible.

  Yes, my lord.

  The vision receded in a flash, and was gone. As Daphne watched, the priest swayed, and put a hand to the floor to steady himself.

  Daphne smiled at the words Lord Vicar Arnault had used about her. A powerful and dangerous mage. Arnault’s own powers had impressed her. He had reached out so far over the sea with such ease, a distance she had never even attempted. She would need to practise her range. She had no true idea how far she was capable of going, a few miles the furthest she had ever achieved.

  As she was withdrawing from the building, a sharp flash of raw panic and terror tore through her mind.

  Karalyn.

  In an instant Daphne’s mind whipped back to her body, and she opened her eyes.

  The room was dark, and quiet, except for the baby’s cries. Daphne pulled on a thread of battle-vision, and her sight improved as if a lantern had been lit.

  She rolled off the bed as a knife plunged down, striking the mattress where her body had lain. Daphne flooded herself with battle-vision. She hit the floor and reached for the blade she had placed under the bed. Her left arm came up as a sword was swung down at her. The steel edge struck the mage-hardened stone plates of her armour, and sparks flew.

  Daphne leapt to her feet, and plunged her knife into the chest of the first assailant. There were two others, the one with the sword, and one who had been crossing the room towards Bedig’s bed, but who was now turning in alarm. They were Rahain.

  She ducked under another swing of the sword, sprang past the assassin’s guard and rammed her blade up into the underside of his chin. She withdrew the knife, turned, and threw it at the last attacker, piercing her through the throat.

  Bedig sat up. ‘What the fuck?’ He crashed out of bed, landing on the floor, and gazed around, his eyes wild.

  ‘I got them,’ Daphne said, ‘but I appreciate the effort.’

  ‘This is why I’m carrying the baby, isn’t it?’

  Daphne lit a candle, and walked over to Karalyn.

  ‘Sorry you had to see all that, Kara-bear,’ she said, picking her up, ‘and thanks for the warning.’

  As her battle-vision faded, she began to feel pain in her left arm, from where the sword blow had struck her armour. She sat the baby down on the bed, and unbuckled the straps attaching the arm-guard to her limb.

  She winced as she looked at the red weal developing on her withered forearm.

  ‘They get you one?’ Bedig said, examining the three bodies.

  Daphne nodded. ‘Just as well I was wearing the armour. Would have taken my arm off otherwise.’

  ‘Sorry about calling you paranoid earlier.’

  She grimaced in pain. ‘Throbs a bit.’

  ‘Pity we haven’t anything to smoke.’

  Daphne smiled, and reached deep into her pack. She brought out the pouch Shella had given her at Plateau City harbour before they had left.

  She put Karalyn back to bed, and lit a smokestick. At once her pain and fatigue receded. Bedig opened the ale, and they sat at the table, sharing both drink and smoke.

  There was a thump at the door, and it burst open.

  The sergeant they had met in town ran into the room, followed by several troopers. They halted when they saw the bodies.

  ‘Shit,’ the sergeant cried. ‘Are you all right, ma’am? And the baby?’

  ‘We’re fine, Sergeant,’ Daphne said.

  The sergeant scanned the room, nodding in relief. Her eyes passed over the sight of the weedstick in Daphne’s hand without comment.

  ‘My deepest apologies, ma’am,’ she sighed. ‘We don’t know how they got past our perimeter, but rest assured we’ll find out. Squads have surrounded the building, and no one is leaving until we’ve questioned them all. I’ll post guards right outside your door from now on. Fuck being discreet.’

  ‘One True Pathers, Sergeant,’ said a trooper, kneeling by one of the bodies. ‘All Rahain, two males, one female.’

  The sergeant shook her head. ‘Fucking Pathers.’ She turned to Daphne. ‘What happened?’

  ‘They woke Karalyn, and her crying woke me. Battle-vision took care of the rest. ’

  The sergeant smiled. ‘Nice work, ma’am. We’ll get these bodies out of here, and leave you alone for the rest of the night.’

  As the sergeant finished speaking, there was a scream from elsewhere in the building, and the sound of a struggle.

  The sergeant ducked out of the room, and troopers began picking up the bodies of the dead Rahain, while two of the squad took up position outside the door. As the last body was being carried away, the sergeant re-entered.

  ‘We got her,’ she said. ‘It was a Rahain woman that worked here, she let them in. Another Pather.’

  ‘The deacons getting others to do their dirty work for them?’ Bedig said.

  ‘Either that, or they went rogue. Some of the Rahain converts are more fanatical than the deacons. They might have gone against orders for all we know.’

  The sergeant turned to leave.

  ‘Have you questioned her?’ Daphne said.

  The sergeant shook her head as she stood by the door.

  ‘She’s beyond questioning now, ma’am. Sleep tight.’

  Chapter 7

  Food for Crows

  B roadwater, Kingdom of Sanang – 16 th Day, Last Third Summer 506

  ‘I’m tempted to strip you of your command for this, Echtang,’ Agang said, almost shaking with rage. ‘Your behaviour is unacceptable.’

  ‘But uncle…’

  ‘Don’t interrupt me.’

  Chane, Hodang and Gadang looked away.

  ‘Perhaps you’re too immature to be given such responsibility,’ Agang went on, pacing the floor. ‘The army needs strong leadership to defeat B’Dang and his firewitch.’

  ‘Gadang was the same age when you gave him command of a regiment,’ Echtang said.

  ‘I said don’t interrupt. And your brother has always been more reliable than you.’ He shook his head. ‘But it’s too late now. We’d all look stupid if I removed your commission on the day the army departs for the south. And maybe it’s better if you’re out of Broadwater for a while. After what you and your officer friends did last night, the town needs some time to recover.’

  Echtang hung his head .

  ‘Threats, assault, destruction of property,’ Agang said. ‘And I’ll have to compensate that girl’s father.’

  ‘She was a whore.’

  ‘You’re a fucking liar,’ Gadang said. ‘No, she wasn’t.’

  Echtang bristled. ‘She was in a bar, at night, alone. She was a whore.’

  Gadang moved to face his brother, his fists clenched.

  Echtang met his stare. ‘She got what she deserved.’

  Gadang’s fist rose, but his brother was quicker. Echtang flung a punch at his older brother, connecting with his nose. Gadang yelled in pain, his hands covering his face, blood running down his chin.

  Agang stepped in, and pushed Echtang back.

  ‘Enough,’ he cried. ‘Nephew, you have shamed me. Get out.’

  ‘Do I still have my regiment, uncle?’

  Agang glared, but nodded.

  Echtang snapped his heels together and saluted. ‘At once, your Majesty.’

  Agang turned to Gadang once his brother had left the tent. Chane was holding a handkerchief to the young man’s nose.

  ‘Get yourself back up to the citadel,’ Agang said to him.
‘We can’t have you all bloody-faced at the ceremony.’

  Gadang nodded, and turned to leave.

  ‘And,’ Agang said, ‘next time, move faster.’

  Agang fell into a chair and picked up a cup of mead.

  ‘Don’t look at me like that,’ he said to his advisors.

  ‘You’re letting Echtang keep his command?’ Chane said.

  ‘As I said, we’d look like idiots if I changed my mind now. People would think I’d made a mistake.’

  ‘You are making a mistake,’ she said. ‘That boy doesn’t respect you any more.’

  ‘He’s just at an awkward age.’

  ‘Awkward?’ Chane said. ‘You call what he and his friends did “awkward”? They behaved like fucking savages. ’

  ‘A spell in command might do him good,’ Agang said. ‘Teach him some responsibility.’

  Chane shook her head. ‘Hodang,’ she said. ‘Tell him.’

  ‘Sorry, Chane,’ Hodang said, ‘but I agree with his Majesty. It’s too late to change the regimental command structure. Besides, at least we won’t have to deal with Echtang moping about here. Hopefully the town will have forgotten last night’s indiscretions by the time the army returns.’

  Chane slumped into a chair and lit a cigarette. ‘I don’t know why I bother.’

  ‘Look, Chane,’ Agang said, ‘I feel sorry for that poor girl as well, but maybe she shouldn’t have been out on her own at that hour…’

  The Holdings woman narrowed her eyes and glared at him.

  Agang fell silent. He glanced at Hodang, who shrugged.

  A guard poked his head through the tent flap.

  ‘Your Majesty,’ he said, ‘the executions are about to begin.’

  ‘Excellent,’ Agang said. ‘We shall be out shortly.’

  The guard bowed, and withdrew his head from the tent.

  ‘Are we all ready?’ Agang said.

  ‘I think I’ll stay here if that’s all right,’ Chane said.

  ‘You need to develop a stronger stomach,’ he said, ‘but as you wish.’

  Hodang opened the tent flap, and Agang strode out. A row of black-uniformed soldiers saluted him, and a horn blared out a high note. On the training fields outside town, the army of Sanang was mustered, arranged in regimental order before him.

  With Hodang at his shoulder, Agang walked by the ranks of warriors, nodding and feigning interest. At the head of the line a large group of prisoners, naked and beaten, were surrounded by more soldiers. To the right lay a pile of timber beams.

  A captain of the guard was waiting for him. He bowed.

  ‘Greetings, your Majesty.’

  ‘Greetings,’ Agang said, gazing at the prisoners. ‘You may begin.’

  The captain saluted, then turned to address the captives.

  ‘You have all been found guilty of treason,’ he called out, ‘and of conspiring against the crown of Sanang. Furthermore, you are guilty of blasphemy, by your idolatrous worship of the accursed firewitch. For your crimes, you will now be crucified.’

  He raised an arm, and soldiers moved into the group of prisoners, while others prepared the first wooden beams. Fifty post holes had been dug in a row by the side of the road, deep enough to hold the upright beams. Some of the prisoners started weeping, while others looked dazed, as if they didn’t realise what was happening to them. The first dozen were strapped with leather bands to smaller crossbeams, and then hoisted into the air. A team of soldiers attached them to the uprights, and finished the job by taking hammers to the prisoners’ ankles.

  A smell of excrement and urine rose, and the screams began.

  Agang took a step back to observe the line of crosses, and Mandalecht joined him.

  ‘Your Majesty.’

  ‘Commander.’

  ‘We’re all set. Shall I give the order to depart?’

  ‘Please do.’

  Mandalecht nodded to an officer, and three short blasts came from a horn. Agang walked to the end of the line of executions, where a raised platform had been built with a throne on top. Agang sat, while Hodang stood at his shoulder. The regiments all turned and saluted their king, and, to the sound of drums and horns, started to march past him down the road, towards the River Tritos.

  Six full regiments of veterans from the Rahain war were interspersed with four new units, made up of fresh soldiers formed from ex-slave volunteers. Agang knew that many in the army had misgivings about serving alongside the freed slaves, but B’Dang’s rebellion had demanded an immediate response.

  ‘The finest army Sanang has ever seen, your Majesty,’ Hodang whispered in his ear. ‘They will return triumphant, with the head of B’Dang D’Bang the traitor on a stick, and the corpse of the vile firewitch, that we may mock it. ’

  ‘Indeed,’ Agang said, gazing down the long lines of armour and uniforms. The last of the prisoners had now been raised, and their cries of agony permeated the morning air.

  ‘That nest of traitors,’ Hodang spat, following the king’s gaze. ‘Did they think that they could build a secret shrine to the firewitch, and not be punished for their disloyalty? Disgusting creatures.’

  ‘Do you think there’s more of them?’ Agang said, his eyes fixed on the bodies writhing on the beams.

  ‘If there are, your Majesty, we shall root them out, and hang them up for all to see.’

  ‘You didn’t do a very good job rooting these ones out,’ Agang muttered. ‘If the Holdings preachers hadn’t told us there were firewitch worshippers in Broadwater, they’d still be practising their sordid rituals.’

  ‘I assure you, your Majesty,’ Hodang said, ‘we will not require their assistance next time.’

  Agang’s attention went back to the passing ranks of soldiers. In front of him marched one of his newer companies, their leather armour still shiny, and their swords un-blooded. They saluted as they went by; their faces alight with the pride of serving their king as free men.

  Next was Echtang’s regiment, one thousand hardened warriors, grim in black. Echtang led the salutes as they marched past the throne, and there was just the hint of a smirk on his lips as he raised his hand.

  Agang frowned.

  ‘Little bastard,’ he spat. He glanced at Hodang. ‘Are we making a mistake?’

  ‘Your hand was forced, your Majesty,’ Hodang whispered. ‘The alternative would have caused dissension and disruption within the army, not to mention publicly humiliating the second in line to the throne. You chose the least bad path.’

  ‘That’s not very comforting.’

  ‘Mandalecht will keep an eye on him, your Majesty.’

  Agang’s anger simmered. He wished he had placed a spy within Echtang’s regiment. He was sure the boy was laughing at him behind his back, joking with his officer friends about how he had made a fool out of the king.

  As the last of the regiments passed, Agang hoped his grim expression would be seen by the soldiers as expressing a steely determination, rather than the urge to rip his nephew’s head off.

  A battalion of household guards by the town gates cheered as the final row of soldiers bound for the south departed down the road, and Agang stood. Escorted by guards, he stepped down off the platform, and walked along the road towards the open gates, the line of executions on his left.

  ‘What’s next for today?’ he asked Hodang, who was walking a pace behind him.

  ‘Well, your Majesty…’

  There was a great cry from one of the prisoners. Agang turned to look, and saw that a large crow had planted its talons onto the scalp of a man. The prisoner was flailing his head, but the crow persisted, darting down with its beak to jab at the man’s eyes. As Agang turned away, he locked gazes for a second with a crucified woman.

  ‘You!’ she cried, her voice hoarse. The leather straps binding her arms to the crossbeam were tight enough to break her skin. Her legs were hanging limp, the ankles a mass of blood and jutting bone.

  ‘Agang, you traitor!’ the woman screamed. ‘You sold Sanang so you
could wear a crown. Keira is coming for you! She will burn you, she will burn you all…’

  Her voice cut off as a soldier thrust his sword tip through her throat. Her head lolled, blood dripping down her body.

  ‘Fanatics,’ Hodang said, shaking his head.

  Chane was waiting for them by the gates, wrinkling her nose, and keeping her gaze away from the line of dying prisoners.

  Agang nodded to her.

  ‘As you were saying, Hodang. Today’s agenda?’

  ‘Ah yes, your Majesty,’ his chief minister said. ‘Father Pieper has begged attendance with you. He is waiting in the council chambers for us. ’

  ‘Really? What does he want?’

  ‘I don’t know, your Majesty,’ said Hodang, as they walked along the busy main street of Broadwater. ‘He came to see me this morning, wanting an audience. I told him he would have to wait until the army had departed. He didn’t seem very pleased by my response.’

  ‘You’ve not seen much of him recently,’ Chane said. ‘He probably misses you.’

  ‘I’ve been too busy to listen to his sermonising,’ Agang said. ‘There’s only a certain amount I can take of his sycophancy before it becomes grating.’

  Chane and Hodang shared a long glance.

  Agang frowned. ‘Sometimes I think you two are made for each other.’

  ‘Some of the missionaries suffered an even worse fate, your Majesty,’ Pieper said, his face in the shadows of the council room. ‘Their skin was flayed from their still-breathing bodies, then cut into small portions and distributed among the savage warriors that serve the firewitch. Then, and only then your Majesty, were their broken bodies thrown onto the pyre, to burn with the others, their cries of merciful release reaching the ears of the Creator, whose heart is now as thunder, his will deadly set against the witch and her wicked minions.’

  ‘How many?’ Agang said.

  Pieper raised an eyebrow. ‘Your Majesty?’

  ‘How many missionaries were killed?’

  ‘Twenty-three, your Majesty,’ he said. ‘One was set free, to tell us the plight of the others. She now abides in the infirmary, recovering from her ordeal.’

  ‘And what were they doing south of the River Tritos?’ Hodang said. ‘That region is not currently safe to freely travel.’