The Magelands Epic: Soulwitch Rises (Book 7)
Page 46
Kelpie blinked again. She gazed around the room for a moment, then glanced at the bookcase.
‘Oh, aye,’ she said, ‘so you can take your pick. Of the books, I mean.’
Karalyn nodded and walked closer to the shelves. There weren’t many books, but she was surprised that the old woman had any.
‘Back in the old days,’ Kelpie said, ‘I was one of the only ones in Kell who could read. My mother made me and my sister learn. It came in useful when I was chief for a while.’
‘You were chief?’
‘Of the Kell, aye. Along with my sister, who fell in the battle beneath the Fire Temple. When the Rahain invaded Brig, where I was staying with the Kell refugees, we all ran into the mountains, and then folk just forgot that I’d ever been chief. I never mentioned to anyone, and I ended up running this place instead.’
Karalyn’s eyes scanned the volumes. She selected one on Kellach myths and legends, and withdrew it from the shelf.
‘One of the first books made at the printing presses in Threeways,’ Kelpie said. ‘It’s full of scary stories about Pyre.’
‘Thanks. When we get back to the Plateau, I’ll organise a shipment of new books for you; I have friends who work at the university.’
‘That would be grand.’
‘It’s no problem, I…’ Karalyn’s voiced tailed off as she sensed a flash of battle-vision being used in the tavern three floors beneath them. It felt unrefined, and raw. Corthie.
‘Are you all right, hen?’
‘Aye,’ Karalyn said. ‘We should probably be heading downstairs.’
Kelpie nodded and they went to the door. Out on the landing, Karalyn could hear shouts and cries from below.
Kelpie tutted. ‘Sounds like a fight. Come on.’
They hurried down the steps, the noise growing as they descended the flights of narrow stairs. Karalyn reached the ground level first, and pushed open the door leading into the main tavern. A crowd of folk were standing, watching something amid shouts and yells of anger. Karalyn shoved her way to the front, and saw two young men laid out on the floor, unconscious.
‘Everyone calm down,’ said Daphne, who was standing close by, her right arm both shielding and holding Corthie back. The boy was glaring at the two fallen men, his eyes dark. Karalyn noticed blood on his knuckles.
‘What’s going on in my tavern?’ cried Kelpie, her voice booming over the patrons.
‘The Holdfast boy,’ yelled someone; ‘he knocked those two laddies out.’
Kelpie frowned. ‘Is that right?’
‘It is, yes,’ said Daphne, ‘and I’ll knock out anyone who tries to get back at him.’
‘Who punched first?’ said Kelpie.
‘The only one swinging fists was the boy,’ cried a woman from the edge of the crowd. ‘The two lads were talking, and then suddenly, wham! – they’re both flat on their arses.’
‘Why did you do it, son?’ said Kelpie.
Corthie glowered, but said nothing.
Karalyn crossed the floor and stood by her brother.
‘That’s some wee fighter ye’ve got there,’ said another voice.
Someone laughed. ‘Aye, fast as fuck.’
‘It’s not funny,’ cried the woman who had spoken earlier. ‘They’re ma wee cousins he hit, and nobody gets to hit ma family.’
Kelpie glanced from Corthie, to the woman, and then down to the floor where the two young men were lying. One of them groaned and rolled over, rubbing his chin. His eyes lit with fear when he saw Corthie staring down at him.
‘Let me buy you a drink,’ said Kelpie to the woman. ‘The Holdfasts are my guests, and I don’t want any trouble. A drink for you, and for yer cousins.’
The woman frowned. ‘Alright. I want an apology too, but.’
‘I can’t,’ said Corthie.
‘Why not?’
‘Because I’m not fucking sorry.’
‘Corthie!’ cried Daphne, pointing her finger in his face. ‘I don’t want to be hearing that language coming out of your mouth again. Go. Sit down.’ She glared at him until he returned to his seat next to Jemma, then she turned back to the crowd. ‘I apologise for my son’s vulgar outburst.’
‘But what about him hitting my cousins?’ said the woman.
‘No,’ said Daphne, ‘I’m not apologising for that. I know my son, and if he punched those young men, then they probably deserved it.’
Several of the crowd started to laugh, and the woman scowled at Daphne. One of the young men clambered to his feet, and swayed.
‘Let me get you those drinks,’ said Kelpie, walking to the bar as the crowd went back to their seats.
Karalyn and Daphne walked over to their corner table and sat.
‘Well?’ said Daphne.
‘Well, what?’ said Corthie.
Daphne lit a cigarette. ‘You know very well what I’m talking about, young man. Why did you hit those boys?’
Corthie shrugged.
Daphne turned to Karalyn. ‘Read it out of him.’
‘What?’ said Karalyn.
‘Go into his head,’ her mother said, waving her cigarette about, ‘and find out why he did it.’
Karalyn shook her head and smiled. She glanced at Corthie, who had a defiant edge to his eyes.
‘Just tell us, Corthie,’ she said, ‘otherwise mother will never shut up about it. And she’ll keep nagging me too.’
Corthie took a gulp of ale. ‘They said something.’
‘Aye?’
‘About Jemma. About why she had no father around to help her look after the baby.’
‘You hit them because of me?’ said the young Holdings woman.
‘Aye. I couldn’t stand there and listen to them insult you.’
Daphne nodded. ‘Sounds fair to me. Well done, son.’
‘Violence isn’t the answer,’ said Karalyn.
‘Sometimes it is, but,’ said Koreen, from where she sat by the end of the table. She glanced up as Darine walked over.
‘Mind if we join ye?’ said the young Domm woman.
‘Not at all,’ said Daphne. ‘After all that excitement, I was thinking it’s about time for a whisky.’
‘I thought you wanted an early night,’ said Karalyn.
‘Soon, daughter.’
Darine sat down at the table, as ale and whisky were brought over for them.
‘Hello, Darine,’ said Karalyn. ‘Not seen much of you this evening.’
‘Been working in the kitchen.’
‘Moping, you mean,’ said Koreen. ‘Didn’t see you do much actual work.’ She glanced at the others. ‘She’s in love.’
‘I am not,’ Darine said. ‘He’s just a friend.’
‘Then why are so upset?’
‘Because he’s about to make a huge mistake.’ She looked round the table. ‘Sorry. I’m sure you aren’t interested in my problems.’
‘It’s fine,’ said Daphne.
‘Who’s the boy?’ said Karalyn, trying to sound polite.
‘An old friend,’ Darine said. ‘He’s joined some stupid mercenary force, and he’s going to be marching off to Pyre knows where.’
‘A mercenary force?’ said Daphne. ‘Run by whom?’
Darine sighed, then nodded over to the tavern entrance. ‘Those two standing by the door.’
Karalyn glanced over. A Holdings man and woman were at the very end of the bar, their overcoats still wrapped round them. The woman took off her hat, revealing a shock of white hair. They were studying the tavern, their eyes scanning the patrons. They stopped as their glances caught the table where the Holdfasts were sitting on the opposite side of the tavern; then they looked at each other, turned and walked out through the main doors.
‘Who?’ said Daphne, turning her head as the doors swung shut.
‘You missed them,’ said Karalyn. ‘They just left.’
‘Kellach?’
‘No. Holdings, I think.’
‘You think?’
‘They were covered up in thi
ck coats, mother; it was hard to tell.’
Daphne turned to Darine. ‘What are they doing here?’
‘In the World’s End?’ said Darine. ‘No idea. In fact, that’s the first time I’ve ever seen them set foot in the place, though I’ve noticed them around the village.’
‘I meant what are they doing in Westgate?’ said Daphne, lighting a cigarette. ‘Mercenaries?’
‘Aye. It’s all legal, apparently, but I don’t trust them. They say they’re not going to fight against the empire, but won’t say where they’re going. And they’re offering a lot of pay.’
‘Who’s funding them?’
Darine shrugged.
‘It’s probably bodyguards they’re after,’ said Corthie; ‘for merchants or someone like that.’
‘That’s my guess too,’ said Koreen.
Karalyn glanced back at the door, half expecting to see the mercenary leaders standing there again, but the space at the end of the bar was empty. They had been looking right at her table when they had left; did that mean anything?
‘They looked twenties; maybe thirties,’ she said, ‘and the woman had white hair. Pure white.’
‘That’s right,’ said Darine, picking up her whisky.
Karalyn smothered a yawn. Everyone else was drinking, except for baby Cole, who was dozing on his mother’s shoulder; and Daphne was smoking too, but Karalyn had remained sober. Her mother had lectured her at length about having to abstain throughout pregnancy, but Karalyn wasn’t too happy having to sit around while others got drunk. Her thoughts drifted to Lennox, and she wondered what he was doing.
She stood. ‘I’m going to bed.’
‘Already?’ said Koreen.
‘Aye. It’s been a long day.’ She turned to Jemma. ‘I’ll take the wee one. I promise I won’t… you know.’
Jemma nodded. ‘Alright, thanks. Do you mind if I stay up a bit longer?’
‘No, it’s fine. I’ll put Cole down, and sleep in the spare bed in your room.’
She took the baby from Jemma’s arms and held him close.
Daphne glanced up at her. ‘Did you…?’
‘Aye.’
Her mother nodded. ‘Goodnight, then.’
‘See you all in the morning,’ Karalyn said, then headed for the door.
A cluster of streetlamps marked the position of Westgate amid the darkness. Fainter pinpricks dotted the lowlands below, and spread further down the Domm Pass; and Karalyn could see more appear as her sight adjusted. Lennox could be anywhere. Domm, the pass, Threeways; if he had got a ride on a wagon, then he could be halfway to Kell. It was done. In the morning, once they had ridden a few miles out of the village, they would use the Quadrant and Lennox would be gone forever, lost on the other side of the world.
She felt the pain in her heart and wondered if she had made the right decision. Did she want her children to be brought up by a killer?
There you are, said her mother. I thought you might be up here.
I was enjoying the peace and quiet.
And I have ruined it, by implication?
I can’t believe this is our last night here. Part of me wants to stay and have the twins in Kellach Brigdomin. Don’t panic, mother, my mind’s made up, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to miss it.
I’m going to miss it too, I think.
You? Karalyn laughed. Come on.
Not right away, but who knows what we’re returning to? Perhaps in a while I’ll wish we were back here, enjoying the peace and quiet, as you said.
They moved down closer to the town. Most of the houses were shuttered up against the cold night, and several of the taverns had fallen silent. The front door of the World’s End was locked up, and only a few lights were seeping from the windows of guestrooms.
Do you want to look for him? her mother said.
I don’t know.
Alright, Kara-bear, we’ll… wait. Do you see that?
What?
Karalyn followed the path of her mother’s vision, and gasped. Dozens of armed soldiers were approaching the World’s End through the dark and silent streets, surrounding it on three sides; the fourth resting on the cliff face. The soldiers had armour on under their black cloaks, and they were carrying maces and crossbows. An advance squad reached the side door of the tavern, then one of the soldiers forced it open, and the squad entered.
They’re coming for us, said her mother.
Karalyn stared at the tavern. Her family was spread over three rooms, and there was no way to bring them together to use the Quadrant before the soldiers would be upon them.
She turned to her mother. What should we do?
We fight, daughter, she said, as they raced back to their bodies. We fight.
Chapter 31
One for the List
Plateau City, Imperial Plateau – 18th Day, First Third Spring 526
Nyane’s father peered over the top of his newspaper as she entered the kitchen. He was sitting at the small dining table with a glass of warmed lemon water and a plate of toasted rye bread.
‘Good morning, dear,’ he said. ‘Sleep well?’
‘Yes, father,’ she said. She sat down, then put a hand to her mouth and coughed.
‘That’ll be all those silly cigarettes,’ said her mother, putting the kettle onto the stove. ‘Your study’s starting to smell like a tavern. Tea?’
‘Yes, please.’ She had given up trying to teach her parents how to make coffee, and on her reduced income, couldn’t afford for them to waste any more.
‘Are you meeting Ravi and Kelsey again today?’ her mother said.
‘Yes.’
‘In the university coffee shop?’
‘Yes.’
‘Routines are good,’ said her father, ‘but perhaps you could consider one that brought in a little money, no? Remember, I can get you a position as a banker’s assistant, or as a clerk in one of the law firms in the Rahain quarter; all you have to do is ask.’
‘Thanks, but I still have my savings.’
‘And what will you do when they run out?’
‘My trial’s in less than a third,’ she said. ‘Let me get through that first, and if I’m not in jail, then I’ll start thinking about getting a new job.’
Her mother frowned. ‘As an assistant or a clerk? You’re a stone mage, my dear; those types of positions are beneath you. I’ll never understand why the empire doesn’t look after its mages better. It’s fine if you’re a vision mage, of course, then the Empress will elevate you to her inner council in a flash.’
‘I was in the Empress’s council, mother.’
‘But that was nothing to do with you being a mage. Back in Rahain, before the bad days began, every mage was treated with deference, and their families too. Even I was honoured, though my powers are slight.’
‘I think the Empress wants to be fair, and give everyone the same opportunities.’
‘Oh really? And what about all those Holdings lords and ladies? I see they managed to retain their aristocratic traditions intact, even though they deposed their monarchy. Most of the Holdings is owned by a tiny group of noble families; is that fair?’
‘Daphne Holdfast was trying to redress that,’ said Nyane. ‘She handed out thousands of acres to the peasantry.’
‘Only as a bribe so they’d vote for her.’
Nyane shrugged. ‘I never said I was in favour of democracy. Is there a reason for the sudden interest in politics?’
‘I’ve had nothing to do but read since I arrived here. I’d gone through all of your books before you’d returned from Rainsby, and now I’ve started looking through the university library. Your old… friend, Dean, has been most helpful.’
‘He’s a competent librarian.’
Her mother raised an eyebrow.
‘So,’ Nyane went on, ‘have you learned much?’
‘The empire is a mess,’ her mother said. ‘In fact, it’s not really an empire at all. More a very loose confederation of nations that don’t like each oth
er very much. No Sanang or Rakanese serve in the imperial armies; at times one could forget they’re even part of the empire. Kellach Brigdomin is too far away to usefully contribute anything; which just leaves the Holdings and the Plateau, and the Plateau is predominantly populated by people from the Holdings. There may be a Kellach figurehead sitting on the throne, but it seems to me that the empire is actually just cover for the Holdings to rule.’
‘You’re missing the point,’ said Nyane.
‘I am, am I?’ frowned her mother.
‘Yes. The purpose of the empire is not to rule, but to allow peace to flourish. With peace comes prosperity and opportunity. That is why the Rahain must be defeated.’
The sound of laughter came from her father.
‘Are we amusing you?’ said Nadia.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘This reminds me of those olden days you were talking about, when the two of you would argue over politics, science; anything that took your fancy. I’m glad those days are back.’
Nadia poured tea into three cups and sat. ‘I’ll be taking our order to the university shop later. Let me know if you need anything.’
‘A bottle of good wine would be nice,’ said Nyane’s father.
‘A little out of our price range, I’m afraid. A decent red costs as much as a bottle of Severton whisky these days. Gin’s cheap.’
‘Yes,’ he said, ‘and for a good reason.’ He folded his newspaper and set it down on the table. ‘I do hope this war is over soon.’
‘As long as Rainsby holds,’ said Nyane, ‘we’ll be safe. Rahain will exhaust itself hurling its armies at that town; and the reinforcements will be sailing soon.’
‘And then what?’ her father said. ‘Does the empire march into Rahain, just like the Alliance armies did when the empire was formed twenty years ago? Look how that turned out.’
‘Then what would you suggest?’
‘I haven’t the faintest idea, my little flower.’
‘Mother?’
Nadia frowned. ‘Just focus on winning, my dear.’
‘I would, were I in a position to, but my days of standing by the Empress are over.’
‘Her Majesty must realise what she’s lost in you.’