The Magelands Epic: Fragile Empire (Book 5)

by Christopher Mitchell

  Belinda laughed. ‘You and your staff,’ she said to Dyam, ‘will remain here under house arrest while a provisional government is formed. The Great Fortress will shield her Imperial Majesty until she is well enough to return to her duties.’

  Dyam stared at the table of guests. ‘You fucking nest of traitors. Belinda has bought your votes with lies spun from gold.’

  ‘This dinner is over,’ said Belinda, standing. ‘Pass my apologies onto the chefs. We shall accompany the Empress as she is borne in procession to the Great Fortress. The common folk will be delighted to see her. I imagine you will hear the cheers from here.’

  The other guests stood, and the guards opened the door. More soldiers were out in the hall, all wearing the insignia of the New Town garrison. None of the old guards who had watched them for days were visible. Dyam said nothing as the guests left the room and the doors were closed, locking her and Karalyn inside.

  ‘Cow,’ muttered Dyam.

  ‘You’re taking it well,’ said Karalyn, lighting a cigarette.

  ‘This isn’t over,’ the herald said. She glanced up at the young mage. ‘I’m counting on you.’

  ‘To do what? You know that I can’t read or hide from Belinda.’

  ‘They’ll be bringing the rest of the staff here soon,’ Dyam said. ‘Stand by the doors, get ready to slip out when they open. I want you to sneak into the Great Fortress, find out what you can, then get back here to help us escape. We’ll be waiting for you at dawn. Got it?’

  Karalyn said nothing for a moment, drawing on her cigarette. She was worn out after so many days of using her powers – could she make it through the night?

  She nodded. ‘Got it.’

  Karalyn waited by the entrance to the dining-room for ten minutes. Dyam had made her a strong, black coffee with too much sugar in it, and Karalyn had slugged it down. When the doors opened, she willed herself unseen and skipped by the soldiers as they entered, leading a group of the imperial staff. Among them was Nyane, wearing an angry frown as the soldiers’ crossbows prodded them along. Karalyn kept going, avoiding the folk in the busy corridors and leaving the palace by an open window. In the forecourt, a line of carriages were waiting, along with hundreds of soldiers from the New Town garrison. She read a few of their minds. All of them thought they were doing their duty; protecting the Empress.

  Maybe they were, Karalyn thought. After all, they hadn’t done a very good job of keeping her safe in the palace. But would she fare better in the hands of Belinda? Karalyn felt a ripple of fear when she thought of the woman. She was a vision mage, and a powerful one, and Karalyn had no way of hiding from her. She would need to avoid Belinda on her mission that night; stay out of her way while she sneaked about the Great Fortress.

  She ran to the gates of the palace, and found a place to watch as the procession got ready. The Empress’s unconscious body was brought out on a stretcher, attended by a dozen burly soldiers and a crowd of nobles, Belinda leading them. The Empress was placed with care onto the back of an open carriage, surrounded by guards and hitched to a team of four white horses. She was dressed in robes of state, and a large bandage covered half of her face. Lamps were being lit along the Royal Road that ran from the palace to the Old Town, and crowds were beginning to gather on the streets. The nobles boarded their carriages, and the procession set off, with the Empress in the middle of the line.

  The crowds roared as they caught sight of the body of the Empress, then went quiet. Some began to cry out lamentations as if she were dead, but were silenced by others. The silent procession turned onto the Royal Road, the clipping of horses’ hooves and the beat of the soldiers’ boots on the street the only sound piercing the night air. Karalyn clambered down from where she had been watching and sprinted along the street, dodging the crowds at the rear of the wide paved road, and keeping out of sight of the lead carriage, where Belinda sat.

  She raced down a side street to cut off the corner in the road where it turned towards the aristocratic district, and got ahead of the procession. She kept running, seeing the gates of the Old Town ahead. Not far to her right, beyond the tree-lined avenues, Corthie would be in bed and Laodoc would be up, drinking tea and having a book read to him. She wished she were with them for a moment and stumbled, her legs tired and her head spinning from the coffee. She halted and retched, her hands on her knees.

  The sounds of the procession reached her ears and she set off again, heading down a back street to the entrance to the Old Town. The gates were open, and a crowd had already gathered to see the Empress. Remaining invisible, she walked through the arched entrance and into the narrower streets that led to the Great Fortress. The solid, unadorned tower rose high into the night sky, its squat bulk dominating the city. Karalyn followed the main road to where the enormous gates to the fortress lay, then slipped down an alley to watch.

  The crowd jostled forwards as the carriages came into sight, their steady pace allowing the onlookers a good view of the wounded Empress. Some of the peasants tried to rush her carriage, calling out that she had been murdered, but soldiers pushed them back. The procession halted before the gates of the fortress and nobles began to disembark from their carriages. A dozen Kellach Brigdomin soldiers placed poles under the frame of the Empress’s stretcher, and lifted her from the back of the carriage. The crowd surged round them, but were held back by other soldiers, who surrounded the Empress until she had been taken inside the Great Fortress.

  ‘I can see you, you know,’ said a voice behind her.

  Karalyn turned to see Belinda smiling at her from the thick shadows of the narrow alleyway.

  ‘Such a useful skill,’ Belinda went on. ‘I’ve no idea how you do it and would love the opportunity to take you apart to see how it all works, but alas, there’s no time. I have an empire to rule.’

  Belinda raised her right hand and Karalyn felt a high-pitched tone of power being unleashed towards her. Instinctively, she blocked it, deflecting it away to the side with an effort, then gasped. That had been the power of a Rakanese flow mage that Belinda had sent her way, enough to vaporise her head. She stared at Belinda, then turned and ran.

  She barrelled down the alleyway, taking a narrow side turn that snaked between overhanging tenements. As she ran, the cobbles beneath her feet began to tremble and she was thrown to the ground as she entered a small square with a stone well in its centre. She put her arms out to block her fall, and landed heavily, rolling until she hit the low rim of the well. She groaned, her head pounding, and glanced up.

  Belinda walked into the small square, looking around to check that no one was there.

  ‘It was impressive,’ she said, ‘the way you fended off my flow attack. I sent enough power your way to knock a winged gaien from the sky, and yet you managed to evade it.’

  Karalyn grabbed hold of the side of the well and pulled herself to her feet, her legs shaking.

  ‘Who are you?’ she said.

  ‘I am here for revenge,’ said Belinda, standing before her. ‘Nothing more; nothing less. More to the point – who, or what, are you?’

  Karalyn said nothing.

  ‘Then I’ll have to kill you the old-fashioned way,’ Belinda said, clenching her fists.

  Karalyn felt the low drone of battle-vision being summoned – a power she had no defence against. She scanned the side streets, looking for an exit, but her legs were too tired to run again. Belinda sprang forward. With her left fist she punched Karalyn in the stomach, while the right struck her face. Karalyn’s head snapped back, and a white flash exploded behind her eyes. She began to fall forwards, but Belinda spun round, sending a high kick into her chest. Karalyn flew backwards, her legs hitting the low wall surrounding the well. Her knees folded and she was jolted downwards, her head striking the inside of the well as she tumbled through the air.

  The well was deep, and she bounced from wall to wall as she fell into the darkness. She struck freezing cold water, and the last thing she remembered was Belinda’s face silhouetted
at the top of the well, smirking down at her.

  Chapter 27

  Trapdoor

  Silverstream, Rahain Republic – 25th Day, Last Third Spring 524

  ‘Leave me alone,’ Kerri muttered. ‘I’m trying to sleep.’

  Ravi frowned. ‘But I’m horny.’

  ‘It’s too early,’ she said, wrapping the blankets round her as they lay on the massive bed, ‘and you need to go to work.’

  He gazed at her in the dim light of dawn.

  ‘You can go on top,’ he said.

  ‘No. Go away.’

  He sighed and slid off the bed. Pulling on a shirt, he wandered to the windows and opened the shutters, sending morning sunlight flooding into the room.

  ‘Hey!’ Kerri cried, throwing the covers over her face.

  ‘Oops, sorry.’

  ‘You’re a dickhead,’ she mumbled from under the sheets.

  ‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘but you love me anyway.’ He stretched. ‘Another sunny day in the mountains. Another day of mud and toil for me, while you lot lounge about doing each other’s make-up and smoking weed.’

  Kerri sat up and scratched her head. ‘What? You have no idea what it’s been like since Derrick died. Sable hardly says a word, just sits lost in her thoughts, and your sister follows her about, trying to cheer her up. I spend hours up here, just to get away from them. Do you think this town has anything to read?’

  ‘What, like books and stuff?’

  She squinted at him. ‘Yeah, like books and stuff.’

  ‘You, read a book? You must be bored.’

  ‘Ha ha. Do me a favour and find out.’

  ‘Sure,’ he said, walking back to the bed. ‘I’ll ask around.’

  He leaned over and kissed her as a wild cry from outside tore through the air.

  ‘What was that?’ said Kerri, her eyes wide.

  Ravi walked back to the window and peered outside. The street below was quiet, and he gazed out over the rooftops of the town. In the distance, the mountains shone in the dawn light. Standing out against the sheer flank of a cliff was a cluster of tiny black specks, like birds.

  ‘No idea,’ he said. ‘Everything’s fine.’

  ‘Didn’t sound like it.’

  He turned back to her. ‘Fancy making breakfast for the worker of the house?’

  ‘I make dinner every day,’ she said, lying back down and getting comfortable, ‘as well as doing most of the housework. You can make your own damn breakfast.’

  He sighed and wandered to the bathroom. It was rudimentary compared to the sophisticated plumbing of Amatskouri, but pleasant enough, in a rustic sort of way. He washed himself and cleaned his teeth, then spent five minutes on the toilet day-dreaming about his old apartment. Would he ever see such luxury again?

  ‘Ravi!’ Kerri called to him.

  He washed his hands and went back into the bedroom.

  ‘What is it?’ he said.

  Kerri was sitting up in bed. ‘Something’s going on outside.’

  He frowned and walked back to the window, via the bedside table where he lit a cigarette. He gazed out over the buildings of the town. In the distance, a thin trail of smoke was rising from somewhere beyond the edge of the settlement, and he could hear muffled shouts. He opened the window and leaned out. Below, the street was busy with people – some running, while others were gathering in groups. A score of voices were shouting, the noise mingling over the town.

  ‘Don’t know what it is,’ he said to Kerri. ‘There might be a fire at the edge of town.’

  He walked over to the bed and sat down next to her.

  ‘Feeling any friskier?’

  She frowned at him, threw back the covers and strode to the window. Ravi reclined on the bed to watch her. She was wearing a loose, white nightshirt that went to her knees, and he congratulated himself on having such a gorgeous girlfriend. He had done well to be faithful to her. He should be proud.

  Behind him the door burst open. It swung and hit the wall with a crash. Ravi jumped.

  ‘Get dressed,’ Sable said, standing in the doorway. ‘Now.’

  Ravi stared at her. ‘Why?’

  ‘I’ll explain soon,’ the Holdings woman said. ‘Get your clothes on and follow me. There’s no time to waste.’

  Kerri frowned. ‘What’s happening outside?’

  Sable’s featured twisted in frustration. ‘Get dressed!’ she cried, a tone of authority hammered through her words.

  Ravi blinked.

  ‘Okay.’

  He reached for the rest of his clothes as Kerri walked to the bed, her face pale.

  ‘Thank you,’ Sable said. ‘Quickly, please.’

  Yanin entered the bedroom, fully dressed. ‘I’m ready,’ she said. ‘Now will you tell me what’s going on.’

  ‘Soon.’

  As Ravi pulled his boots on he noticed that a sword was hanging from Sable’s hips, and she was wearing leather armour under her tunic.

  ‘I haven’t washed,’ said Kerri, as she rummaged in her clothes drawers.

  ‘Doesn’t matter,’ Sable said. ‘Your lives are more important. I’m also quite fond of living, so if you could please hurry the fuck up that would be wonderful.’

  Kerri frowned, but obeyed, and within a minute both she and Ravi were clothed.

  Sable nodded then left the room, and they followed her down the stairs. They went through the hall and into the kitchen, where Sable checked the back door was locked.

  ‘Are we leaving?’ said Yanin.

  ‘Not yet,’ said Sable. ‘I need to work out which directions, if any, are safe to take.’ She glanced at Kerri. ‘Close the kitchen door.’

  Kerri nodded and did as she said.

  Sable gestured to the table. ‘Sit.’

  The others pulled out chairs and sat round the small kitchen table, while Sable stood, her gaze darting from the doors to the windows.

  ‘Silverstream is under attack,’ she said.

  ‘What?’ cried Yanin.

  ‘The Rahain?’ said Ravi.

  Sable said nothing and went to the stove, where she prepared a pot of coffee.

  ‘I thought we were in a rush,’ said Kerri.

  ‘We are,’ said Sable, placing the filled pot onto the stove, ‘which is why I’ve brought you all down here. It’s the safest place in the house. Now, I need to think.’

  She passed out cigarettes to Ravi and Yanin, and lit one for herself.

  ‘Alright,’ she said, ‘this is what I know. Thirty minutes ago, a fleet of Rahain winged gaien were seen, flying low over the hills from the south-west. According to witnesses, there were enough troop carriers to carry about a thousand soldiers. Ten minutes ago, they landed, in the large clearing south of the new rampart walls.’ She stared at each of them in turn. ‘They are coming to destroy Silverstream.’

  Kerri gasped, her hand on her mouth.

  ‘Shit,’ said Yanin. ‘We’ve got to get out of here. Why are we sitting making coffee? We need to be running.’

  Sable shook her head. ‘Unless the soldiers of the republic are looking for us in particular, and happen to know where we live, then we’ve got at least half an hour before they approach the house. A thousand trained soldiers will still find it hard to get through the nearly twelve thousand Rakanese that live here. Already the militia are being summoned to defend the town. What we need to be doing is making sure our escape is successful, rather than fleeing in our underpants.’

  A plume of steam hissed from the coffee pot and Sable took it off the heat and filled four cups. She spooned in sugar, then set the coffee down onto the table.

  ‘We’ll need food,’ she said, ‘clothes, and weapons. We might have to survive in the mountains for days. If we take a few sensible decisions now, then our chances of getting through this are greatly improved.’

  Yanin nodded. ‘Sorry. I guess you’re the expert at this sort of thing.’

  ‘Alright,’ Sable said. ‘We should aim to be out of here in ten minutes. Five to plan, then five
to carry out the plan. First though, I have to show you something.’

  She walked to the centre of the kitchen floor. Her eyes scanned the varnished floorboards, then she crouched down. Her fingers plucked a handle that had lain flush against the wood, and she pulled upwards, revealing a trapdoor.

  ‘Ha!’ cried Ravi. ‘I had no idea that was there.’

  ‘Where does it go?’ said Kerri.

  ‘Straight down into the mud,’ Sable said. ‘Remember that the house is built on stilts over the flooded banks of the river. It’ll be cold and wet down there, but a damn sight safer than trying to leave by the street.’

  Ravi sipped his coffee. ‘We’d better get on with the plan.’

  Sable nodded and sat down by the table. ‘Right,’ she said, ‘here goes.’

  Twenty minutes later, Ravi, Yanin and Kerri were waist-deep in muddy, cold water peering up at Sable’s face as she looked down at them from the kitchen floor. By that time the shouts and cries from the town had grown louder. It was obvious to Ravi that something bad was happening, but he had yet to see any soldiers for himself. He tried to imagine how he would act if he came face to face with a Rahain soldier. Lizard bastards, he thought. The people who had exterminated the Migration. He could fight, he knew it. He had been in more than one brawl in his time, and had never shied away from trouble if it had come along. But a soldier with a crossbow? What if there were ten soldiers? He swallowed.

  ‘Remember what we agreed,’ Sable said. ‘Stay where you are until I come back. Our supplies are better up here dry; you can either grab them or leave them if the house is attacked while I’m gone.’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ said Kerri. ‘Why don’t we leave now? The fighting’s getting closer.’

  ‘I need to scout the route,’ Sable said. ‘I’ll only be a few minutes.’

  ‘Take care,’ said Yanin.

  Sable smiled, then lowered the trapdoor. The others listened to the sounds of her opening the back door and closing it again, then the turn of a key.