Fragile Empire

by Christopher Mitchell

  ‘Since you put it into such stark terms,’ he said, ‘then I’m forced to agree. But I can be disappointed in some of your decisions, without necessarily being disappointed in you, my little flower.’

  ‘You know Dean is a fine man,’ she said. ‘You’ve met him many times now. In what way do you see him as unfit for your daughter, except for the fact that he’s a Kellach Brigdomin?’

  Her father paused as another man walked over to the table.

  ‘I’m honoured that you’ve chosen to dine here again, my lord,’ the man said, bowing low.

  ‘Not at all,’ her father said. ‘I want to see how you’re making use of the bank’s money.’

  The man’s tongue flickered and her father laughed.

  ‘Only teasing, old boy,’ he said.

  ‘Ha ha, of course, yes,’ the man said.

  Her father nodded at him, and the man took that as his cue to leave. He bowed again, and hurried to the kitchens. Her father turned back to Nyane.

  ‘Interesting question,’ he said. He looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘Let me see, is it solely because he is of Kellach stock? Hmm. Yes, I’m afraid it is.’

  She glared at him. ‘But father, that’s preposterous. You can’t generalise a whole people like that.’

  ‘Can’t I?’ he said.

  ‘You still think they’re barbarians, admit it.’

  ‘No, no, my little flower, though I certainly used to think that way. When we first arrived in this city, I believed them to be nothing but coarse, drunken thugs. Some of them are, of course, but I realise that there are plenty of people from Rahain that I’m not particularly proud of. I understand that all peoples have their good and bad elements, but I also believe that they shouldn’t mix. Let the Kellach stick to the Kellach, and the Rahain to the Rahain.’

  ‘Why? Is it because we can’t have children?’

  ‘Partly,’ he said, ‘though you seem just as averse to the idea of adopting an orphan, which I have suggested on more than one occasion, if my memory is correct.’

  Lunch arrived, wheeled over on a trolley by their waiter.

  ‘Sir, madam,’ he nodded as he laid out the dishes and opened a bottle of wine.

  Nyane watched as her father smiled at her. Having spent half her life in Plateau City, she supposed that she was more attuned to the idea that everyone was welcome in the empire. She mixed with Kellach Brigdomin and Holdings on a daily basis, and spoke to both Rakanese and Sanang people when their lives crossed. It all seemed so simple, but some, like her father, and those she had met in Amatskouri, would never accept it.

  The waiter bowed, and departed.

  Her father began eating as Nyane sipped from her wineglass.

  ‘Not going to respond?’ he asked.

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘You’ll never change your mind.’

  ‘Were she here,’ her father said, ‘your mother would say the same as me. I think you know that.’

  She lowered her eyes.

  ‘When she was arrested at the border,’ he went on, ‘I swore her an oath that I’d do my best to get you to safety, and raise you to be a daughter she’d be proud of.’

  ‘I remember.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said, frowning. ‘That day has been burnt into both our memories, of that I’m sure. Your mother would be angry with me, I fear, were she here to see how I’ve allowed you to lead your life.’

  Nyane laughed, though her eyes were welling at the same time.

  ‘I think you did a fine job,’ she said.

  He gazed at her. ‘You were always a headstrong girl. Perhaps your mother would have been able to restrain you, but on my own I thought it best to leave you to find your own path. Despite my opinions on your choice of mate, I am very proud of you, chief engineer of the empire, very proud indeed.’

  She flushed.

  A scream from outside tore through the silence, followed by a low rumble.

  Nyane got to her feet and peered round the corner of the alcove. Out on the street, crowds of Rahain were running, their eyes wild with fear. There was more screaming, and the cries and groans of violence, and Nyane unclasped the golden chain from around her neck. It was where she kept the ring given her by the Empress, to show her authority if required.

  ‘You’re not going out there, are you?’ her father said, watching as she slipped the gold ring onto the fourth finger of her right hand.

  ‘I’m afraid so, father,’ she said. ‘Duty.’

  ‘But it could be dangerous, my little flower.’

  ‘I had four years of training in the academy, father. I’ll be fine.’

  She kissed him on the cheek and strode to the door. The crowds were still running, fleeing in panic-strewn disorder. The sounds of violence were nearing. She opened the door. An old woman stared at her and Nyane grabbed her arm, pulling her towards her.

  ‘What’s happening?’ she said to the woman in her calmest voice.

  ‘The Kellach have gone mad!’ she cried. ‘They’re slaughtering everyone!’

  Nyane released the woman and stepped outside. She kept close to the buildings and walked against the flow of people tumbling down the alley. She reached the wider street at the end and glanced round the edge of the building. The noise was tremendous. Screams and angry cries filled the air and Nyane looked through the crowds, trying to find the source. Towering over the Rahain, she saw three Kellach Brigdomin, covered head to toe in imperial suits of armour. They were charging through the crowds, striking down anyone within reach with long, heavy maces. A crossbow bolt glanced off the breastplate of one of the soldiers, and Nyane turned to look for who loosed it. A small squad of militia were edging forward in a line, struggling to load their crossbows. Nyane sprinted across the street towards them.

  ‘Get off the road!’ she yelled at the civilians who, needing no words from her, were fleeing from the Kellach in all directions. She reached the militia just as their lines were breaking.

  ‘Get back into formation!’ she screamed at them. ‘I’m an imperial officer, and you are now under my authority. Get into line and shoot upon my command.’

  She shoved the Rahain militia into two rough lines, with the front rank down on one knee, and to her surprise they obeyed. From their expressions she knew that the armoured Kellach had noticed the potential threat, and she glanced over her shoulder as the militia in front of her got their weapons ready. The three Kellach were charging towards them, their boots thundering off the cobbles.

  Nyane raised her chin, and stood by the line of militia. ‘Hold, steady, wait.’ Her breath quickened. The Kellach were only yards away, their maces raised.

  ‘Now!’ she cried, and the militia loosed as one. A dozen bolts flew through the air towards the three soldiers. One hit a civilian, who spun on his feet, while others went wide or bounced off the cobbles. Seven found their mark. One lucky shot took a soldier through the eye, while another was peppered with four bolts across his chest, the close range punching the steel heads through the armour. The third soldier was hit in the left shoulder and right knee, and he collapsed to the ground skidding to a halt two yards in front of the trembling lines of militia.

  ‘Reload!’ Nyane cried, her eyes fixed on the injured Kellach Brigdomin sprawled on the cobbles. He raised his head, and tried to get up, using his right arm to hoist himself to his knee. He stared at her.

  ‘This was for the fire mountain,’ he said, as the militia aimed their reloaded crossbows at him. ‘May every Rahain suffer the way the Kellach Brigdomin did on the day you destroyed the home of Pyre.’

  He sprang to his feet, lifted his mace high, and five bolts struck him. He fell backwards, crashing down onto the blood-slicked cobbles.

  ‘Seventy-three dead,’ Isobel said, her eyes scanning the lines of corpses wrapped in white linen. ‘You did well.’

  Nyane frowned, her legs still shaky. ‘I did?’

  ‘If you hadn’t acted,’ the Holdings woman said, ‘then the toll would have been far higher. More like the death rate seen i
n the Rakanese quarter.’

  ‘Was it much worse there?’

  ‘One hundred and thirty fatalities was the number given at the last report I heard. It’s probably higher now. It was the same method – three armoured Kellach Brigdomin, running wild through busy marketplaces, killing everyone they could reach.’

  Nyane gazed around the square. The injured were being tended to, while Holdings soldiers were guarding the street corners. ‘It’s hard to believe that six people could cause such carnage.’

  ‘Trained soldiers among unarmed civilians?’ Isobel said. ‘It’s not so hard.’

  ‘Did any of the attackers survive in the Rakanese quarter?’

  ‘No,’ Isobel said, lighting a cigarette. ‘The mob tore them to pieces. The only inkling we have of a motive comes from what the last Kellach alive said to you here. But that doesn’t tally with an attack on the Rakanese at the same time.’

  ‘The militia heard it too,’ Nyane said. ‘No doubt his words are spreading through the quarter as we stand here. That’s what the residents will believe – that it was a revenge attack.’

  ‘For something that happened over twenty years ago?’ Isobel said. ‘No. It’s the Rahain government. Ghorley. He’s trying to divide us. If only we’d captured one alive, then I could have read his thoughts, and seen the truth that lies behind their actions.’

  ‘They knew they were going to die,’ Nyane said. ‘They were ready for it; wanted it.’

  ‘Martyrs.’

  Nyane nodded.

  ‘We‘ll have to try harder next time,’ Isobel said. ‘It’s imperative that we manage to take at least one of them into custody.’

  Nyane said nothing. Her hands were still shaking. She wanted to go home and see Dean, but knew her duty.

  ‘I should go to the palace,’ she said, ‘and inform her Imperial Majesty of what I have witnessed.’

  Isobel nodded. ‘She’s already aware of the basic facts, but your eye-witness testimony might be useful, I suppose.’

  Nyane felt no desire to respond. She nodded and set off, her feet avoiding the pools of blood on the cobbles as she walked across the square.

  Chapter 17

  Dilemma

  Liberton, Rahain Republic – 8th Day, Last Third Spring 524

  The four soldiers sat by the entrance to the cave, watching the sun rise over the mountains to the east. The air was cold but fresh, and a few clouds dotted an otherwise crystal blue sky. Knee-high flowers covered the rocky slopes, and carpeted the grass at the bottom of the dell, where a river gurgled and bubbled towards the valley floor.

  Lennox was hungry but happy. After the resigned terror they had felt over the first few days at the Sixth’s old camp, they had begun to relax. There had been no sign of the rebels, or anyone else for that matter, and although food was scarce, they had all been through the same endurance training, learning how to live in the wild, and how to recognise the different types of plants that were edible.

  ‘Another day,’ said Libby. ‘That makes nineteen since we got here.’

  ‘The army’s forgotten about us,’ said Cain.

  ‘Either that,’ Lennox said, ‘or Logie told them we were dead. Think about it. The army command must have learned about the villagers being killed; they’re bound to have been up there to see what happened. If Logie told them the truth, then he’d be arrested and punished.’

  ‘Therefore he lied to them,’ Libby said.

  ‘He probably believes we are dead,’ Darine said. ‘In which case he wouldn’t have been lying.’

  Libby frowned at her. ‘Smartarse.’

  ‘Should we check?’ Cain said. ‘I mean, maybe one or two of us should go up the valley to see what’s going on.’

  ‘No,’ Lennox said. ‘We’re going to obey the orders given to us. We’re staying here until we’re relieved.’

  ‘Good,’ said Darine. ‘I love it here. It’s so peaceful, and beautiful. My heart nearly breaks with joy every morning when I wake up and realise we’re still here. I don’t ever want to go back.’

  ‘We’ll have to at some point,’ Libby said.

  ‘Aye,’ said Cain. ‘Sure it’s lovely now, but imagine this place in winter.’

  ‘If we’re still here by then,’ Darine said, ‘then I’m heading down into the town. Somewhere there I’ll find my baby boys, and when I do, no one’s going to separate me from them again.’

  ‘We won’t be here all year,’ Lennox said.

  ‘We’re still soldiers,’ Libby said, a trace of exasperation in her voice. ‘We have a duty to the Army of Pyre. We swore sacred oaths. Unbreakable oaths. Pyre is watching over us with a kindly but firm eye. He’ll know if we stray from the truth.’

  Darine snorted and looked away.

  ‘What I meant,’ Lennox said, ‘is that the rebels will come for us sooner or later. They know we’re here. They’re mountain folk, at least as good as we are in this terrain, probably better. They’ll have seen us, and for some reason have decided not to attack. So far.’

  His three friends said nothing, and sat gazing out at the hills and valleys in front of them.

  ‘Right,’ Lennox went on, ‘on that cheerful note, let’s get on with today’s chores. Cain, you’re on fishing, Darine firewood, Libby foraging. I’ll bring in the water and clean up the cave.’

  ‘My boots need fixed,’ said Cain.

  ‘Leave them here,’ Lennox said, ‘I’ll do that too. And any clothes that need washing.’

  ‘I need new fishing hooks,’ said Cain. ‘The last ones broke.’

  ‘Use the spear and net for now,’ he said. ‘I’ll make that my first job.’

  The soldiers nodded and went their separate ways, while Lennox went back into the cave, crouching his head to avoid hitting the low ceiling. He passed the wall that they had built to keep out the wind, then their hearth – a patch of blackened stone and ashes. Beyond that was the little area where they sat at night, or ate when it was raining, with smooth river stones for seats, and at the far end of the cave were four beds, made up of bundles of long grasses, fern and leaves. He would need to sort through it, throwing out any that were damp or had begun to smell, and gather fresh bedding.

  He sat down and reached for a pile of loose chain mail and a small knife, and got to work making a set of new fish hooks. It took all four of them every hour of daylight to survive, gathering food, hunting, fishing, cleaning, making everything they needed from nothing but their natural surroundings and what they had brought with them. It was tedious and exhausting, but somehow Lennox felt better than he had in years.

  His thoughts drifted as he worked. He was proud of the way they had got on with living, making the best of each day. Not once had any of them broken down or despaired. He was growing more worried about Darine, though. She seemed distant, as if her thoughts were always elsewhere, and he guessed it was due to her infant twins being less than twenty miles from their cave.

  He finished the new hooks and took them down to the river, helping Cain attach them to the lines and rods as butterflies swooped among the long grass and flowers.

  ‘Thanks, Lennox,’ Cain said, dangling the lines into the waters of the river below. It was ten feet wide, and shallow enough to wade across, while the water was clear and fresh-tasting. On the far bank grew a few old and stunted olive trees, and beyond them stretched the beginnings of a forest that climbed up the slopes of the mountainside. Lennox lay back on the grass for a moment, watching the clouds drifting across the sky. He listened to the noises around him – the rushing water, the sound of Cain arranging the fishing rods, and the light wind rustling through the trees. He smiled.

  A low cry came from within the forest, followed by silence, and Lennox bolted upright.

  Cain raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Back to the cave,’ Lennox said, his eyes scanning the dark forest. ‘Now.’

  ‘Are you not coming?’ Cain said as he got to his feet.

  ‘Go back and arm yourself, then stay in the cave,’ Lennox said
. ‘I’m going to check everything’s alright.’

  Lennox watched Cain race across the grass and climb the rocky slope to the cave entrance, then he turned his attention back to the forest. Silence. He splashed through the river and sprinted into the dimness of the trees. He was unarmed apart from the short knife in his belt, and had no armour on, but he needed to know the source of the cry. He noticed Libby to his right, bent over some mushrooms that she was collecting in a basket made from twisted olive branches.

  ‘Hey,’ he said. ‘Did you call out?’

  ‘What?’ she said. ‘No.’

  Lennox came to a halt and gazed around. The trees were densely packed and shadows hung heavy between them. He squinted into the gloom, but saw nothing move.

  ‘I didn’t hear anything,’ said Libby, rising to stand beside him.

  ‘Maybe it was a bird,’ Lennox said.

  Libby’s eyes widened and she stared into the trees. ‘Did you see that? Something glinted. Something metal.’

  ‘Fuck,’ Lennox cried. ‘Back to the cave.’

  ‘Darine’s out there,’ Libby said. ‘We can’t leave her.’

  ‘You go,’ he said. ‘I’ll find her.’

  ‘Shit,’ Libby said, looking uncertain.

  ‘Go,’ he said.

  She squeezed his arm then turned and ran. Lennox ducked behind a fallen tree trunk and crouched low. He peered over the top, his eyes studying the forest. Nothing. He got ready to move forwards, then froze. Ahead of him, Kellach warriors in piecemeal armour were creeping through the forest in his direction. Among them, Lennox saw Darine, gagged and bound in ropes, and being led by two crossbow-wielding rebels.

  He had sensed this day would come, which was why he had squeezed every last ounce of enjoyment out of their time in the dell. If he was going to die, he was glad it was would be while fighting for his friends. But to fight, he needed weapons.

  He raced back through the forest, hurtling between the trees, knowing that he would most likely be seen by the rebels. He emerged from the trees and bounded across the river in two leaps. In front of him, Libby turned. She was at the base of the slope leading to the cave.