Fragile Empire

by Christopher Mitchell

  ‘Printed copies of this will be in the university library one day,’ she said, skimming through the pages.

  ‘At the rate we’re going,’ Tiadon said, ‘it will stand as a warning to others not to repeat our mistakes.’

  ‘As such, it would still be useful,’ Nyane said, keeping calm despite her irritation with the two mages, ‘but I continue to believe that we’ll achieve success.’

  ‘Do you think,’ Seda said, ‘that you’d be able to put some hours in? Having two stone mages working at the same time might make the difference.’

  ‘I’ll try,’ Nyane said, putting down the book.

  ‘Are you okay?’ the Rakanese mage said. ‘You seem distracted.’

  ‘Sorry, I have a lot on my mind.’

  ‘May we speak alone?’

  ‘Alright.’

  Seda nodded at Tiadon, who frowned. ‘I’ll go and make a cup of tea, then.’

  Nyane waited until the Rahain mage had left the room. ‘What is it?’

  ‘I’ve been offered a position in Amatskouri, to lead their team of clay mages.’

  ‘I see. Do you intend to take it?’

  Seda narrowed her eyes. ‘I was hoping you’d try to persuade me to stay.’

  ‘Are they offering more money?’

  ‘Yeah. A lot more.’

  ‘Then all I can offer is the chance to help create something new. This idea has such potential. You seemed to agree, when we first talked about it.’

  ‘Back then I thought you’d be the one doing the experiments with me, not Tiadon.’

  ‘Is he incompetent?’

  ‘No, but he infuriates the life out of me.’

  ‘Well, you’re a partner, whereas he is an employee. We could advertise for another stone mage; I think there are two or three others in Plateau City.’

  Seda sighed. ‘I don’t want to be responsible for him losing his job.’

  ‘Then I’m asking you as a favour to me,’ Nyane said. ‘Please stay, at least for another third or two. I would be very grateful.’

  The Rakanese woman pursed her lips. ‘Okay. For you.’

  ‘Thanks. Hopefully you’ll make a breakthrough soon. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting in the palace that I must attend.’

  Seda nodded, and Nyane walked to the door. She frowned as she descended the steps to the ground floor of the university. The pressures in her life were adding up. Her job, her side-projects, Karalyn, the Creator, Dean; all vying for attention in her mind, and behind it all was the horror of what she had seen in the market thirteen days before. Images of the slain, their bodies strewn across the wet cobbles, faces crushed and disfigured from mace blows, legs twisted at odd angles, and the terror, the vice squeezing her heart as the armoured Kellach Brigdomin had thundered towards her – all of it formed the continual backdrop to her thoughts and actions as she made her way through each day.

  Hi, Nyane.

  The Rahain woman jumped, her tongue flickering.

  Sorry. It’s me.

  Karalyn?

  Aye.

  What is it?

  Nothing. I was just bored. Wanted to see what you were up to.

  Nyane shook her head as she walked into the open air of the courtyard.

  Ah, Karalyn went on, her voice ringing in Nyane’s head. You’re in the university. What have you been doing?

  Nyane’s thoughts churned as she tried to formulate a response.

  Is this a bad time? Karalyn said.

  No. Yes. Sorry.

  It’s my fault. I shouldn’t just jump into your head whenever I feel like it.

  It’s fine.

  Where are you going?

  To the palace.

  Oh. Well, give my best wishes to the…

  Karalyn’s voice came to an abrupt halt and Nyane frowned.

  Are you still there? she said in her head.

  Silence.

  Nyane stood for a moment, then continued walking towards where a line of university carriages were stationed.

  I’m still here, Karalyn whispered.

  What’s wrong?

  I saw something when I looked through your eyes.

  Nyane’s heart started beating faster. Something from my future?

  Aye.

  Good or bad?

  Not good.

  Do I need to know? Do I need to be prepared?

  I can’t tell you. Sorry, but I can’t. I‘ve no idea when exactly it’ll happen. Might be today, might be a year from now.

  But soon?

  The people I saw through your eyes looked the same as they do now, Karalyn said, her voice low, so I’m guessing it’s not too far ahead. Damn it, I wish there was some way I could stop it, or help, but I can’t. I’ll tell you one thing, though, that might be useful.

  What?

  Afterwards, watch their hands. Watch them closely. Take care, Nyane.

  Karalyn’s presence disappeared from Nyane’s mind as the Rahain mage climbed into the nearest door. She kept her expression stiff until the door was closed, then began shaking, her nerves jangling like a puppet.

  ‘Afterwards, watch their hands.’ What did she mean? If it was after something, then did that imply that she, Nyane, would survive it? Something bad. In the palace? Her hands trembled and she began to feel sick. A strong desire to go back to the university and hide in her bed started to filter its way through her thoughts.

  Breathe, she said to herself. She closed her eyes and focussed on her chest rising and falling. If Karalyn could bear seeing uncounted versions of the future through strangers’ eyes, then the Chief Engineer of the Empire could cope with one. She felt pity for the young mage, and wished she had been friendlier before.

  What was important? That she do her duty. Whatever happened, and whenever that might be, Nyane would do her duty.

  Her trembling ceased, and she opened her eyes, a grim smile on her lips.

  Three of the Empress’s council members were sitting eating lunch when Nyane arrived at the palace. She was shown to the small dining-room where smartly dressed servants were pouring wine.

  ‘There you are, old girl,’ said Cuthbert, pointing his cigarette-holder at her. ‘Not like you to be late.’

  ‘Unavoidable, I’m afraid,’ she said, sitting. She glanced around the room, checking the doors and windows, and noting the distance between the table and the two soldiers by the main entrance.

  ‘I was just telling Olin here,’ said Isobel, a glass of wine poised in her hand, ‘about the latest news from the garrison near southern Sanang. Apparently they’ve driven the last of the bandits out of the forest.’

  ‘Good show!’ said Cuthbert. ‘I knew the imperial troops would do the job. Has the Matriarch of Sanang conveyed her thanks to the Empress yet?’

  ‘She has,’ Isobel smiled, ‘but I hadn’t finished. Unfortunately there were too many bandits for the frontier fortress to contain, and an estimated six to seven thousand Sanang warriors broke out into the Plateau.’

  Olin gasped, while Cuthbert frowned. Nyane sat in silence listening as if from far away.

  ‘Are they bound for Westport?’ Cuthbert said.

  ‘No,’ Isobel said. ‘We have scouts tracking them as they headed south-east. The garrison at Rainsby has been alerted, but at the moment it looks like the Sanang are fleeing into the Grey Mountains.’

  ‘Ha,’ said Cuthbert. ‘Then they become Ghorley’s problem. Let the Rahain have to contend with six thousand unwashed bandits.’

  ‘Save a thought for the farms and villages they’ll have to cross first,’ Isobel said. ‘Cavalry units are evacuating the larger settlements, and containing the Sanang, but there will be casualties, and the land they leave behind will be burnt and scarred.’

  ‘We should crush them while they’re out in the open,’ Cuthbert said.

  ‘The Empress doesn’t want to empty Rainsby of soldiers,’ Isobel said, ‘because that’s what it would take to destroy the Sanang. Our strategy is to guide them towards the Grey Mountains, and keep
them from doing too much harm on the way.’ She smiled at Cuthbert. ‘And then they become Ghorley’s problem.’

  ‘The insurance claims are going to be tremendous,’ Olin said. ‘It’ll put a strain on next year’s budget. Livestock will have to replaced, and houses and farms rebuilt. Perhaps we could use Lady Belinda’s gift to pay for it?’

  ‘Herald Dyam told us it was to go to the poor,’ said Isobel.

  ‘Well,’ said Olin, ‘the peasants whose lives are about to be devastated by the Sanang raiders will soon qualify as poor.’

  Isobel shrugged. ‘I’ll suggest it to her.’ She glanced at Nyane. ‘I’m forgetting you’re even here. You’ve done nothing but stare at the doors since we arrived. What’s on your mind? Tell me,’ she laughed. ‘Don’t make me have to read you.’

  Nyane turned to her. ‘I’m fine, honestly.’

  ‘This might cheer you up,’ the Holdings woman said. ‘I’ve been in contact with my mages, and some interesting news came through from a most unexpected place, though I can’t tell you where. Do you remember that Rakanese mage called Ravi? Turns out he’s not dead after all.’

  ‘Ravibattanara?’ Nyane said. ‘The clay mage from Amatskouri?’

  ‘The very one,’ Isobel said. ‘I think he might have faked his death and run away. Anyway, he’s alive.’

  Nyane nodded. She was glad he was alive, but what if he discovered that she had taken his idea? The complications rattled through her head.

  ‘Will he be returning to Amatskouri?’ she said.

  ‘I think he plans to go home at some point. I can’t tell you what he’s doing, but he’ll be handsomely rewarded for it when he’s finished.’

  ‘It all sounds very intriguing,’ said Cuthbert, ‘but back to the Sanang bandits. What if we were to take troops from Westport and Stretton Sands, and trap them between the two? That way we wouldn’t have to empty Rainsby.’

  ‘The Empress and her generals have it in hand, old man,’ Isobel said.

  Cuthbert frowned.

  The main course was served, and the talking round the table ceased as plates and dishes were placed before the council members. While the others’ eyes were on their lunch, Nyane glanced around, her heart pounding. Everything seemed normal. The two soldiers at the door were standing at attention, and the servants, a mixture of Holdings and Kellach Brigdomin, were going about their duties. A pretty young Kellach woman leaned over next to Isobel, setting down cutlery. As Nyane watched, the woman glanced at the Holdings man next to her, then picked up the carving knife from the table and slit Isobel’s throat with it.

  Blood poured from the wound as Isobel’s head slumped forwards. As Olin cried out, the Kellach woman dropped the knife, and the Holdings man grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the table. The two soldiers called out for help and charged at the running pair as servants screamed and Nyane sat frozen.

  Her eyes followed the Holdings man and Kellach woman as they stopped in the middle of the room, the two soldiers just feet away. The man drew something from his belt, something metal with the colour of dull copper. The woman flew into his arms and they vanished.

  The two soldiers ran on, crossing where the pair had stood a second before, then skidded to a halt, turning in confusion. Olin cried out and Nyane glanced back at him. He was crouching next to the limp body of Isobel, an arm over her shoulder as he wept. Cuthbert was on her other side, tears on his cheeks.

  Nyane seemed paralysed, rooted to her chair, her face a mask with no expression.

  ‘Where did they go?’ shouted a soldier, her eyes darting about the room. ‘They were standing right here.’

  More soldiers charged into the room, Dyam in their midst. She elbowed her way to the front.

  ‘What the fuck’s going on?’ she yelled.

  Olin moved to the side, so that the herald could see the body of Isobel.

  ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘Shit.’

  Dyam had every exit to the palace sealed within minutes. Soldiers closed the doors and surrounded the building, letting no one in or out. The Empress, accompanied by a squad of guards, attended the small dining-room, and oversaw the careful removal of Isobel, while everyone else who had been in the room was taken away one at a time to be questioned.

  Nyane noted that the servants were chosen first, then the two guards who had been present, and finally the three members of the Empress’s council. She had sat in silence the entire time, keeping her thoughts to herself, and keeping her face calm with an effort. The blood on the table remained where it had pulsed from Isobel’s throat, thick red spatters pooling on the soft white cloth.

  Two hours had passed before Nyane was asked to follow a pair of soldiers to a dimly lit room where Herald Dyam was holding her investigation. The Kellach woman looked up from a desk. In her right hand was a pencil, and in front of her lay pages of scribbled notes. She took a sip from a mug of ale.

  ‘Sit.’

  Nyane took a chair across from Dyam and told her everything she had witnessed, leaving out only the vague warning from Karalyn.

  ‘Eye witnesses are mostly useless,’ the herald said after she had finished. ‘Folk’s memories get mixed up all the time, but here’s the thing – if only one of you had said the assailants had vanished then I might be inclined to ignore it, but you’re the fourth person to say it.’

  ‘Only the fourth?’ Nyane said. ‘But there were over a dozen people in the room.’

  Dyam shrugged. ‘As I said, eye witnesses are mostly useless. A lot of folk were staring at Isobel, and had no idea what happened to the attackers. You however, were the only one to mention that the man was holding something, right before he disappeared. You’re very observant.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘And calm under pressure,’ Dyam said. ‘You proved that in the attack on the Rahain market as well.’

  Nyane smiled. If only the herald knew the turmoil she was feeling inside.

  ‘So,’ Dyam said. ‘What do you think happened?’

  ‘It was targeted,’ Nyane said. ‘The assailants barely looked at me, Olin or Cuthbert. The Kellach woman went straight for Isobel. I suppose that means that they had prior knowledge that she was going to be in the dining-room, and that she was important to the empire.’

  Dyam nodded. ‘Isobel’s identity as the Chief of Intelligence, while not being widely known, wasn’t a secret within government and diplomatic circles. Any number of folk would have known who she was and what job she performed for the Empress.’

  ‘Are there others that could take her place?’

  ‘No. There are only two Holdings mages that were as good as Isobel. Holder Fast is one, and the other is too far away to be easily recalled to the capital.’

  Nyane’s mind went to Karalyn. She knew that the young mage worked for Dyam. ‘There must be other vision mages available.’

  ‘Oh aye,’ Dyam said. ‘We have one that can reach Amatskouri, and the one based there can reach Stretton Sands, and from there another agent can communicate with Rainsby. The problem is that Isobel could speak to Rainsby directly with no intermediaries, and further in fact. She could see right up to the Grey Mountains. She was of great value to the empire, and her loss will be keenly felt. She was also a friend.’

  Nyane nodded.

  ‘What about the vanishing?’ Dyam said. ‘Any thoughts on that?’

  Nyane felt a surge of anger course through her. Their friend was dead, and the herald was persisting in asking questions that she must know the answer to. Surely she understood the extent of Karalyn’s powers; that if she could disappear, then so could others?

  ‘Could they perhaps have become invisible,’ she said, ‘and escaped in the confusion?’

  ‘Invisible?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Nyane. ‘You know, like a dream mage can.’

  Dyam’s eyes narrowed. ‘What?’

  Nyane sighed. ‘I know about Karalyn.’

  ‘What exactly do you know about her?’ Dyam said, her pale features glowing in the dim lamplight
.

  ‘Everything. Her powers. She’s like a vision mage but more, with the ability to be unseen, and to manipulate people’s thoughts.’

  Dyam’s mouth opened. ‘How the fuck do you know this?’

  ‘She told me, after I had mostly worked it out myself. I know that she could have wiped it from my memory, but for some reason she didn’t. I think she’s lonely, and needs a friend, and I’m more than happy to be friends with her. In fact, at this precise moment she’s one of the few people in this city that I completely trust.’

  Dyam frowned.

  ‘You’re one of the others, of course, Herald,’ Nyane said.

  The Kellach woman laughed, her blonde hair waving around her shoulders. She turned in her seat.

  ‘I suppose you’d better come out of the shadows, then.’

  Karalyn appeared in the corner of the room, a nervous smile on her lips.

  Nyane gasped. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘If you know her powers, can’t you guess?’ said Dyam.

  Nyane watched as Karalyn sat at the desk and lit a cigarette. Dyam grunted, got up and opened the room’s only window.

  ‘You had her reading the witnesses,’ Nyane said. ‘To check if they were telling you the truth.’

  Dyam sat back down and nodded. ‘Aye.’

  ‘I try to be useful,’ Karalyn said.

  ‘So,’ Dyam said to her, ‘did you forget the bit about keeping your powers a secret?’

  ‘We can trust Nyane,’ Karalyn said.

  ‘That’s not the point. The fewer folk know, the better.’ The herald starting counting on her fingers. ‘Fewer than a dozen folk in the world know what you can do. Here in Plateau City, only me, the Empress and doddery old Laodoc know…’ She stared at Nyane. ‘And Dean? Tell the truth, did Dean tell you?’

  ‘I told her,’ said Karalyn.

  ‘And if I ordered you to wipe her memory?’ said Dyam.

  ‘I’d refuse.’

  ‘May I ask something?’ said Nyane. ‘It might not seem relevant, but it’s eating away at me.’