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Needs of the Empire

Page 32

by Christopher Mitchell


  ‘Why?’

  ‘With the Old Free in charge, Slateford is at risk,’ she said, ‘but it’s still much safer than here. They won’t have the strength to attack the estate for a long while yet.’

  ‘I didn’t mean why Slateford,’ he said, ‘I meant why anywhere. Douanna has won. She has destroyed everything I’ve fought for, and I’m not altogether sure I want to be around to see her rule.’

  ‘You’re not giving up,’ she said. ‘I’m not going to let you. You brought hope to everyone you freed, and now they’re back living under those who want to enslave them again. You’re not abandoning them, Laodoc. In Slateford we can re-group, and make contact with the imperial army. It’s still out there, marching this way. The cause is not lost. ’

  ‘I’m so tired, Daphne.’

  ‘I know.’

  They sat in silence, while Daphne smoked, feeling her energy return.

  She stood. ‘Up.’

  Laodoc looked at her with pain in his eyes, but rose to his feet. ‘Is it far?’

  ‘It’s not close. Come on.’

  She took his hand, blew out the candle, and began trotting down the tunnel.

  They weaved their way through the service shafts that spread above the main cavern network, heading south towards the edge of the city. They had to halt often, to allow Laodoc to recover. Each time Daphne grew a little more impatient, but stayed cheerful, encouraging him ever onward.

  When they dropped out of a hatch, the roads were quiet. At the far end of the tunnel, a shaft of dawn sunlight was breaking through an opening.

  ‘Nearly there,’ Daphne said, helping Laodoc back to his feet. ‘Happy Winter’s Day.’

  ‘And to you, my dear.’

  She supported him for the final walk, past deserted and boarded up storerooms, until they reached the source of the light. Beyond a low gate, a platform jutted out of the mountainside, and Daphne gasped as she saw the snow-clad hillsides and high valleys.

  A pike was waved at them, but the grey-uniformed Holdings woman grasping it said nothing, her mouth open as she stared at Laodoc and Daphne.

  ‘Morning, trooper,’ Daphne said, showing her agent’s badge. ‘Are there gaien ready back there? We need to get the chancellor of the republic out of the city. ’

  The trooper jumped to attention.

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’ She opened the gate, and Daphne led Laodoc through.

  Other imperial troopers emerged from a guardhouse by the gaien stables to their left.

  ‘Is that the chancellor?’ cried one.

  ‘Get a carriage ready,’ Daphne said.

  An officer strode towards her. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘This is Chancellor Laodoc,’ Daphne said, as the Holdings man approached. ‘We need to get him into a flying carriage.’

  ‘Why?’ the officer said. ‘Is there a problem? Who are you?’

  ‘I’m Daphne Holdfast,’ she said, to a few gasps from the troopers, ‘currently working for the republic.’

  She showed the officer her badge.

  ‘Daphne Holdfast?’

  ‘Yes, Lieutenant. There’s been a coup.’

  The officer’s mouth opened.

  The other troopers crowded round.

  ‘A coup?’

  ‘Yes,’ Daphne said, addressing them all. ‘The Old Free have moved their army into the city, and given free rein to the peasants to take their revenge out on the New Free. The Senate has fallen. Chancellor Laodoc, however, is safe.’

  ‘Thanks to you,’ the old Rahain man said.

  The officer shook his head. ‘We’ve not had any orders. Until we’ve had orders I can’t do anything.’

  ‘Forget your orders,’ Daphne said, ‘I’m giving you new ones. You’re taking the chancellor to Slateford, and I strongly recommend that you withdraw your troopers there at the same time. Do you understand, Lieutenant?’

  The officer hesitated.

  ‘Miss Holdfast,’ cried a trooper who was standing by the gate. ‘Soldiers are coming!’

  ‘Move!’ Daphne yelled, pulling Laodoc towards the nearest carriage. ‘Get the gaien ready. ’

  The troopers scattered, each running to get the carriage prepared, leaving the lieutenant standing alone, his mouth still open.

  Four gnarly old winged gaien were led out of their stables, and hitched to the carriage. The sound of shouting reached them, but the troopers kept at their work. Daphne led Laodoc into the carriage, and helped strap him into a seat.

  ‘I’ll be back in a minute,’ she said.

  She jumped back off the carriage to see the gate being swept aside by a swarm of brown-uniformed soldiers. They raced across the platform, cutting down a pair of Holdings troopers who were dragging supplies towards the carriage. They would be at the gaien in seconds.

  Daphne drew her sword and surged her battle-vision.

  She leapt into the front ranks of Old Free, gliding her sword through the neck of the closest soldier. The soldiers backed off from her, and she carved out a wide space, dropping any within her reach, the blood splattering her black leathers. She heard the carriage move off behind her and pushed her powers further than she had attempted before, moving like lightning among the rebel fighters, dealing death with her blade and armoured fist.

  They began to turn and run, and she spun round, racing after the carriage as it gathered speed. Two of the four gaien were already airborne. Daphne sprinted, and leapt just as the carriage cleared the platform and soared into the sky.

  She landed back onto the ground with a crunch, and gazed up as the gaien banked and swept their great wings, bearing the carriage further from her with every second.

  She pushed herself to her feet, and heard the twang of crossbows. She dived to her right, rolled and ran as fast as she could across the platform, weaving until she barrelled through a tunnel exit. She felt exhaustion flow through her, but powered on, dashing along the tunnel until she saw the entrance to a service shaft. Without pausing, she opened the hatch and jumped in, her heart racing. She closed the hatch behind her and fell to her knees.

  Tears came to her eyes and she punched the side of the tunnel .

  She forced herself back up, and began running, knowing the gaien platform behind her would be crawling with rebel soldiers. At least Laodoc and the majority of the imperial troopers had got away, she thought, though she had no idea how she was going to get out of the city.

  The Church Mission stood alone, detached from the other buildings in the central governmental cavern. Its walls had been strengthened and heightened since it had been used as the Holdings embassy. Companies of Old Free soldiers had surrounded the complex, setting up roadblocks around it. From her position on the roof of a neighbouring building, Daphne could see the imperial defenders behind the mission walls, their crossbows ready.

  Daphne was aching all over, her nerves were shredded, and she knew her energy levels were low. She lay on the roof, and focussed on the wall’s defenders. She avoided every black-clad deacon, and picked out a young Holdings trooper, positioned halfway down a side wall, near a postern gate.

  She visioned into the woman’s head.

  Don’t be alarmed. I’m a friend. I need help. Go down the steps and open the side gate.

  The trooper staggered, grasping onto the battlements, her eyes staring about.

  Don’t panic. I’m a Holdings agent, using vision skills to enter your head. Go downstairs and open the gate. I’m on the roof of the building opposite you.

  Daphne exerted some of the push skills that Kalayne had shown her, the ones he used when he wanted to persuade someone.

  The trooper squinted up at the roof, and Daphne risked a small wave. The trooper dropped her crossbow in surprise. She bent down to pick it up, then ran to the steps.

  Daphne moved. She sprinted to the edge of the roof, and shimmied down the long drainage pipe to the ground, about ten yards to the rear of a roadblock. She ran without noise, then leapt up, her feet landing on the shoulders of a rebel soldier. She
pushed herself off, and turned through the air above the heads of the soldiers, who stared up at her with mouths open.

  Daphne cleared the roadblock, and ran zigzagging for the postern gate as it opened in front of her. Crossbow bolts flew past, hitting the wall and skidding off the cobbles. The gate opened a foot’s width, and she threw herself across the threshold, then kicked the door shut with a thud.

  She looked up. The trooper was staring down at her, her eyes wide.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Daphne, getting up and brushing down her leathers, ‘and apologies for going into your head without asking, but I was in rather a tight spot.’

  ‘Who are you?’

  ‘Daphne Holdfast,’ she smiled. ‘Do you fancy taking me to see Father Ghorley?’

  ‘I wondered when I’d see you again,’ Ghorley beamed as Daphne was led into his office. ‘Please, have a seat. Smoke? Drink? Are you hungry?’

  Daphne sat, and took a cigarette, while Ghorley gestured to an aide for tea.

  ‘I’m a little tired,’ she said. ‘I’ve been burning vision for hours straight.’

  ‘Ahh,’ Ghorley said, as tea was served. ‘Well, you’re welcome to use our facilities. Get yourself rested and refreshed.’

  Daphne narrowed her eyes. ‘Why are you being nice?’

  ‘Come now,’ he laughed, ‘I know you’ve been working for the government, right up to last night’s coup. And doing a good job, by all accounts.’

  ‘Not good enough.’

  ‘I don’t know, wasn’t it you that got the chancellor out of the city?’

  ‘You heard about that? ’

  ‘I have also been using my powers,’ Ghorley said, sipping his tea. ‘Inside the head of a minor rebel functionary I learned that Chancellor Laodoc was seen flying out of an imperial gaien port at dawn this morning, aided by persons unknown. Well, now I know.’

  Daphne nodded.

  ‘So we’re on the same side, yes?’ Ghorley said.

  ‘For now. Why haven’t the Old Free attacked the mission?’

  ‘I’m guessing that they want to use us as bargaining chips,’ Ghorley said. ‘Hostages, in case the empire retaliates. Also, we’re a lot better defended this time. I was here when the old embassy was over-run, we had barely a dozen guards to protect us then. Now we have a full company of soldiers and dozens of burly One True Path deacons.’ He smiled. ‘And you, of course.’

  ‘Is Douanna in charge of the city?’

  ‘She is,’ he said. ‘The banner of the old Republic is flying from the senate building again.’

  ‘The streets are quiet,’ she said. ‘Everyone’s gone indoors.’

  ‘Not for long,’ Ghorley said. ‘The people will rise up against their old oppressors. It’s not over yet.’

  ‘You might be right.’

  He eyed her. ‘So, why did you come here?’

  ‘It’s more comfortable than sleeping in a service tunnel.’

  ‘I would have thought you’d be on your way back to Slateford.’

  ‘I tried,’ she said. ‘Every gate of the city is locked down, and there are no winged gaien anywhere. I know a few unguarded hatches that lead out onto the mountainside, but that would mean days of hiking through waist-high snow to reach the road south. Which I fully intend to do, once I’ve got my strength back.’

  Ghorley nodded. ‘Well as I said, you can stay here as long as you like. It’ll give me an opportunity to try to persuade you to come and work for us.’

  ‘It’s never going to happen. And besides, you know that the Lord Vicar wants me as far away as possible. What would he think if he knew you were trying to recruit me? And what about the One True Path? You can’t possibly believe that they’d welcome me working alongside them.’

  ‘Let me worry about all that.’

  ‘You don’t need to worry,’ Daphne said, stubbing her cigarette out, ‘because I’ll never work for the church again.’

  Ghorley sighed. ‘More tea?’

  Chapter 23

  Watching the Firewitch

  M idfort, Sanang/Plateau Frontier – Winter’s Day 506

  The constant drumming of raindrops on the canvas covering his barred wagon had kept Agang awake for most of the night. His blankets were cold and damp, and the wooden floor of his cage was slimy and starting to rot.

  It had been B’Dang’s idea to have Agang transported in a cage-wagon, so that the army could see their prisoner. The small squad of Keira’s nearest had kept the more enthusiastic warriors from getting too close, but he had been able to hear their jeers and insults every day since they had moved out from the Mya river.

  Ahead, the forest came to an unnatural end.

  He had seen it before, but it still disturbed him. Over the four years spanning the Holdings invasions of his land, the occupiers had felled millions of trees, clearing a strip a dozen miles wide, running the length of the frontier wall, and leaving a vast desert of dead stumps and muddy cart-tracks. The firewitch’s army was assembling along the treeline, taking up miles on either side of Agang’s wagon. Well over a hundred and fifty thousand warriors according to Kylon, a man whose heart was as black as his clothes. Agang feared him, he seemed to care for nothing except the destruction of the world, and was the one person the firewitch seemed to take advice from.

  B’Dang had been relegated in the insurgency’s decision-making process to a mere onlooker, and though he raged and fumed at the meetings of the leadership, he strutted about in front of the warriors as if he believed he was still in charge.

  The rain eased off, and Agang saw the white-faced witch emerge from a tent with Fern, who was carrying a basket. His stomach growled.

  ‘Morning,’ said Flora as they approached.

  He sat up, ignoring the chill in his bones.

  The witch turned to Fern.

  ‘Now,’ she said, ‘like we practised.’

  The young Sanang woman blushed.

  ‘Remember,’ Flora said, ‘be assertive.’

  ‘Here’s your breakfast, prisoner,’ Fern said, keeping her eyes lowered.

  ‘Hmmm, that was all right,’ Flora said, as Fern lifted the basket up to the bars of the cage.

  ‘Thank you,’ Agang said, emptying it of its contents. He sat back, and took a long drink from the skin of rainwater, then tore into the hunk of cornbread.

  He preferred it when Niall brought him his meals, as the trooper liked to hang around and chat, and sometimes even gave Agang a smoke. Flora looked at him with disdain, and had taken to bringing Fern with her wherever she went, filling her head with Holdings nonsense.

  ‘Are we attacking today?’ he asked.

  ‘Wait and see,’ Flora said, watching Fern as she removed the empty basket.

  Fern raised her eyes. ‘Happy Winter’s Day.’

  Agang smiled at her and she looked away.

  ‘Is that today?’ Flora said. ‘Had completely forgotten.’

  ‘Good morning, slave,’ B’Dang said .

  Agang turned, and saw the warlord walking towards his wagon, with a handful of other Sanang chiefs following him.

  B’Dang eyed him up and down, his smile disappearing.

  ‘Has someone sent him a healer?’ he said to Flora.

  The white-faced witch shrugged. ‘Not that I know of.’

  ‘He looks too fucking healthy after twelve nights in the cage,’ B’Dang said, narrowing his eyes. ‘It’s been raining for fucking days, he should be freezing his ass off by now.’

  Agang said nothing, continuing to eat.

  ‘A few more cold nights will break him,’ said one of the chiefs.

  ‘I’d be happy to speed up the process,’ said another.

  B’Dang grinned. ‘Give me five minutes and a rusty knife, and I could bring you a toe, a testicle and a tooth.’

  ‘I’d watch that,’ laughed a chief.

  ‘I’m going to make sure you get a good view today, slave,’ B’Dang said to Agang. ‘Then maybe after we could see about relieving you of a few body parts.’

/>   Agang ignored him.

  B’Dang leered around, and spotted Fern. He swaggered over to her.

  ‘You watch me in battle, little girl,’ he grinned. ‘I’ll make you wet, and when I get back, drenched in the blood of my enemies, if you want me to fuck you I won’t say no.’

  The chiefs sniggered as the girl went red and stared at the ground.

  The white-faced witch stepped between them, her hand on her crossbow.

  ‘Leave her be.’

  B’Dang baulked, and his grin faded.

  ‘If you say so,’ B’Dang said. ‘Looking at you puts me right off anyway.’

  There were a few nervous laughs from the chiefs.

  Flora stared at them and they fell silent.

  ‘Come on, lads,’ B’Dang said. ‘We’ve got a battle to get ready for.’

  The group of chiefs nodded and followed B’Dang down to where the command tents were sited .

  When they were out of sight, Fern sighed. ‘Thank you.’

  Flora shrugged.

  ‘You’ve some set of balls on you,’ Agang said.

  Flora narrowed her eyes. ‘Balls are soft and squidgy, they’re not hard. It’s the one place in a man where if you kick him he’s sure to go down.’

  Fern let out a loud laugh, then put her hand over her mouth, going red.

  Agang frowned.

  ‘B’Dang’s just a bully,’ Flora went on. ‘He knows that Keira would torch his arse off if he touched me or Fern.’

  ‘And he thinks you’re a witch,’ he said.

  ‘Yeah, that helps,’ Flora said, a smile almost on her lips.

  Agang leaned forward. Flora had never said much to him, and he longed for some conversation and company.

  ‘I had plans,’ he said, ‘to improve the life of women in Sanang, but decided I had to free the slaves first. I thought it would be too disruptive to try both at the same time.’

  Flora stared at him.

  ‘For a long time,’ he said, ‘I was advised by Chane of Hold Clement, a fine woman, whom I freed. If she were here now she would tell you that I always planned to help women…’

  ‘You married Fern to your nephew,’ Flora said. ‘She’s fourteen.’

 

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