The Magelands Origins Read online

  A large flap was opened in the north-east corner of the room to allow in sunlight and fresh air from the atrium in the centre of the command tent. Ashtrays, cigarettes, pipes and bowls of golden brown tobacco were arranged on the table next to the steaming cups of tea. A tiny brazier was set up on a stool by the opening, and an aide prepared a set of lighting tapers.

  Daphne helped herself to a cup of liberally sugared tea, and took a cigarette from a dish. An aide offered her one of the long tapers, the end of which smouldered. She took the light and relaxed a little. Sweet tea and a smoke, like mother’s milk to the Holdings army. Her staff and officers began to enter. In first were the company doctor, the chief engineer and one of her four lieutenants.

  ‘Good morning, Captain,’ Lieutenant Wilkom said, as she headed to the tea urn and began pouring for her and her companions.

  ‘Good morning,’

  ‘Indeed it is, Captain,’ Doctor Manahan said. ‘Another beautiful morning in the forest. I was fortunate enough to catch the sunrise from the top of the northern tower about half an hour ago. The pink haze of the dawn, and the lustrous and varied greens of the tree canopy combined to create a most marvellous vista, and for a moment it all seemed to turn to gold before my eyes.’ He sighed.

  Wilkom shared a sideways smile with Engineer Dreff.

  ‘I’m glad someone here is enjoying themselves,’ said the quartermaster as she entered, already smoking. She had another lieutenant in tow, and a further couple of paces behind trailed the company priest, Father Rijon. Good mornings were shared around the room, tea cups clinked, and cigarette smoke floated in slow twisting tendrils towards the open air, where the summer sky was a deep and cloudless blue. Her final two lieutenants, Mink and Chane, entered and all were now present.

  Allowing the arrivals to refresh themselves, Daphne observed them. Of the staff, each had been on the invasion the previous year, and each had reacted in their own way to Daphne’s evident inexperience. Of the officers, two of the lieutenants, Wilkom and Dex, were younger than she, having freshly graduated from the academy that spring. Both remembered Daphne from her time in training, though she had been a couple of years ahead of them, and looked up to her as if they really believed she knew what she was doing.

  The other two were veterans, both having served as lieutenants in the previous year’s invasion. One of them, Chane, was in her mid-twenties, a few years older than Daphne, and had a reputation as a formidable fighter. As she stepped forward to take a cup of tea, she looked the part of a Holdings officer, more than Daphne ever did. Her uniform was starched and immaculate, and, standing straight backed with her chin raised, she was also a good hand taller than Daphne. By rights, Daphne thought, Chane should have been the captain, not her. The camp rumours insinuated that Chane’s fondness for illicit alcohol had held her back, rather than any lack of skill.

  The other lieutenant, Mink, had served in both the first and second invasions, and here he was again, at the same rank, for the third year in a row. Despite being the most experienced officers present, Daphne had never heard either Chane or Mink talk about what had happened, or what they had witnessed on the previous invasions. And, as stupid as it now sounded to her, she had never asked, not wanting to appear naive. Compounding this, she wasn’t sure she trusted either of them. She would catch them sharing looks when they thought she wasn’t watching, looks that spoke of a cynicism bordering on contempt. She had noticed these looks increase over the past few days, usually when she reminded them that they would not be leaving without orders. She wondered how many soldiers felt the same way. Were they grumbling behind her back, well, of course they were, they were soldiers. But were they grumbling about why she hadn’t yet ordered them home? She had felt the tensions rise in the fort. At what point would the soldiers demand to leave?

  ‘Everyone,’ she said, quietening the room. ‘Father Rijon, if you would.’

  The priest stepped forward into the rough semi-circle they had created. They closed their eyes and lowered their heads.

  ‘O mighty Creator of the world,’ he intoned, a serious voice for a serious man, Daphne thought as he paused for effect. Come on, get it over with, she cajoled him silently. She opened her eyes a fraction. All the others looked deep in prayer and reflection. Why, she thought, should she pray to a god she wasn’t sure she believed in? Surely nobody was watching her from up there. She sighed. It was too ingrained. ‘Always follow the rituals,’ her father had repeatedly said to her. ‘Even if you don’t believe. Especially if you don’t believe.’

  ‘We give thee thanks for this new day,’ the priest continued, ‘and pledge to thee our faithful worship and service. We honour thy truth, obey thy law, and treasure the gifts of vision thou hast bestowed upon us. We give thee thanks to be born among the people thou hast chosen. So be it.’

  ‘So be it,’ they all responded.

  Daphne again raised her hand, and they gathered around her. ‘Let’s make it brief this morning,’ she said. ‘Lieutenant Dex, your squadron was on duty last night, anything to report?’

  ‘All quiet, Captain,’ the young officer said.

  ‘And I assume no messenger?’

  ‘Correct, Captain.’

  There was a pause as everyone in the room took a moment to let his words sink in. Sixteen days.

  ‘Thank you, Lieutenant,’ Daphne continued. ‘Quartermaster, the supply situation, please.’

  ‘Same as yesterday, Captain,’ Quartermaster Billock said, ‘except, you know, one day fewer until we run out. The switch to half rations will occur in nine days, based on the order to retreat being given today.’

  Daphne calculated. If they left tomorrow, they would have eight days’ full rations, followed by at least another twelve on half until they reached the assembly point. The journey took twenty days, which meant that in only another four days they would be on half rations for the entire trip back. After that, she imagined the quartermaster would start to speak obscurely of third rations, and so on down through their dwindling supplies. She hoped they would be able to spear a few of those boars once they moved out.

  With surprise and relief she realised that she had at last made her decision. In four days they would leave, whether the orders came or not. She imagined herself facing the dark-robed military tribunal on her return, ‘So tell me, Captain, exactly how did it come about that you abandoned your post?’ If she was lucky they would just kick her out of the army, though she knew it was far more likely she would be shackled to one of the city’s punishment pillars for a while first, enduring the humiliation, mockery, gobspit and worse from the busy crowds passing through the central market where the pillars were located.

  She would keep this decision to herself until the evening before they began the retreat, when she would speak each officer individually, and have them pass her words down through the ranks.

  ‘Very good, Quartermaster,’ she said, scanning her officers and staff. ‘In lieu of any contrary order, my decision is that we remain at our posts and stand fast. Lieutenant Chane, your squadron has the day, Mink, yours the night. Now, Engineer, today’s work detail, please.’ Her eyes moved to the handsome young Dreff, standing at ease in his dark brown uniform.

  ‘Captain. Today I’ll have Wilkom’s squadron continue clearing the ditch in the north-west corner, then some of the palisade timbers need looking at further up the…’

  As he was speaking Daphne noticed Chane and Mink share one of their looks. By their angry and knowing expressions, she imagined they were confirming to each other that the meeting had panned out as they had envisaged, with another day passing with no order to leave. She wondered if either would ever have the courage to speak up. She was tempted to reveal her decision at that moment just to see the looks on their faces, but knew she had to keep it to herself for a few more days. I’ll make sure those two get rearguard duty the whole way back, she thought.

  ‘Thank you, Engineer,’ she said, as Dreff finished. ‘Finally, doctor, an update on the sick list
, please.’

  Daphne found her attention drifting again as Manahan began, but unless a pox had descended in the night, she was confident she was aware of their situation. ‘So as of this fine morning, there are twenty-seven troopers abed in the infirmary,’ she heard Manahan conclude.

  ‘Thank you, everyone,’ Daphne said. ‘You all know your orders, dismissed. Engineer Dreff, please remain.’

  There were a few salutes amid the noise of tea cups against the tabletop, and the fug of several cigarettes being extinguished at the same time. As the others filed out, Engineer Dreff stepped a pace forward, sipping his tea.

  ‘Captain?’ he said, a faint smile touching the edge of his mouth.

  She crossed over to the table and re-filled her cup. The tea was still hot, though a little stewed. Several sugars would cure that, she thought, spooning it in.

  ‘I was wondering, Engineer…’ she began.

  ‘About our preparations to leave?’ he interrupted, which he had the most annoying habit of doing. Bloody engineers, she thought, a half smile not reaching her eyes. ‘I can assure you there, Captain,’ he went on, ‘everything is in hand. Just give the word, and we’ll have this place dismantled quicker than an old mare takes to piss.’

  ‘Well, that’s nice to know,’ she replied, ‘but that wasn’t what I was going to ask.’

  She sipped her tea, waiting.

  ‘My apologies for butting in, Captain,’ he grimaced.

  ‘Unnecessary, of course. No, what I wanted to know was…’ She searched for the words. ‘You served last year, didn’t you, as engineer to the Fifteenth Loyal Foot?’

  Dreff‘s expression changed from apologetic to troubled. ‘Yes, Captain, I did.’

  ‘And you fought at the crossing of the River Twinth?’

  ‘Fought, no,’ he said. ‘But I was there, yes.’

  ‘You saw the Sanang fight.’

  ‘I suppose.’ Damp patches were forming under his arms, and a bead of sweat was wending its way down the dark skin of his forehead.

  ‘Then my question, Engineer, is this. How would our little fort fare if the Sanang attacked?’

  Dreff hesitated, and the room was still.

  ‘Engineer?’

  ‘Well, Captain,’ he said, looking at his feet, ‘two things really. First, the whole River Twinth… battle, well, you can’t compare it to us here at the fort. We were attacking them, see, trying to take the crossing and push them back. And second, there’s no account of the Sanang ever assaulting one of the forward forts, not last year, and not this year neither, so far as I know.’

  ‘I’m not asking for certainty, Dreff,’ she said, catching his eye as he glanced up. ‘We’ve been out here for much longer than last year.’

  The engineer looked away, unable to maintain her gaze. ‘You know, Captain,’ he said, ‘it’s not my place, but… there have been some rumours.’

  ‘What rumours?’

  ‘Well, it’s open knowledge among the officers that your father…’

  ‘My father what?’ she said, her voice raised.

  ‘It’s known that he petitioned the Queen’s Council to extend this year’s invasion into an occupation. That he wished for the forts to be maintained and held all winter…’

  ‘The queen did not agree, Dreff,’ she cut in, her annoyance showing in her voice. ‘And we are the Queen’s Own Cavalry. Our orders come from her Majesty and no one else. Is that clear?’

  ‘Yes, Captain.’

  There was silence, just long enough to be uncomfortable. So that was what the grumbles were about. How had they found out? She knew they thought she had received her command due to her father’s seat on the council, but to think that some believed she was following his orders rather than the army’s made her almost dizzy with rage.

  ‘If I may return to my question,’ she said, bringing her voice back to its usual even tone with an effort. ‘If the Sanang were to attack this fort, what are our chances?’

  ‘I don’t know, Captain, that’s the fairest answer,’ he replied. ‘Our forts were designed for the plains back home to repel cavalry and suchlike, except of course out here we build them with wood. Look Captain, if you’re after information on how the Sanang fight close up, you’d be better asking Chane. She was thigh deep in it last summer.’

  ‘Yes of course, I’ll be sure to speak with her.’

  ‘And, Captain, don’t forget our scouts are out there, regularly sweeping the riverside and forest. If the Sanang are coming, we’ll know.’

  She nodded. The scouts would give her a day at best to decide whether the company should stand and fight, or flee for their lives.

  ‘Thank you, Engineer. That will be all.’

  Dreff saluted, and turned for the exit.

  ‘One other thing,’ she remembered. ‘You and Wilkom. Keep it discreet.’

  A look of surprise flitted over his face for half a second, before his usual smile returned. He nodded almost imperceptibly, and left.

  ‘Come on, Jaimes,’ she said, without glancing over her shoulder. ‘Time for our morning stroll.’

  Chapter 2

  The Sighting

  River Tritos, Sanang – 15th Day, First Third Summer 503

  Where were the Sanang?

  Daphne’s mind buzzed around this question like a blood fly hovering over a carcass, as she and Jaimes undertook their daily inspection of the fort.

  The scouts she had sent out to check in with their closest neighbouring outpost, some forty miles to the south-east, were due back that morning. Maybe they would have news about the reasons for their delay, or whether any Sanang had been seen. Were they licking their wounds and waiting for the Holdings to withdraw, or were they rallying and preparing to counter attack? Perhaps they were already on their way.

  She knew what she needed to do to ease her nerves. She and Jaimes passed a row of workshops, and reached the entrance to the north tower. It had been constructed on the edge of the cliff, a hundred feet above the swift river waters, and was the highest point for several miles around. They climbed the three storeys to the top, where a guard from Chane’s squadron had been posted on duty.

  ‘Take fifteen minutes, trooper,’ Daphne said. The soldier saluted and descended to the lower floors.

  Daphne walked over to the wooden parapet. It was a beautiful sunny morning, and steam rose in winding sheets from the green carpet of forest spread out before her. The sun was a handswidth above the horizon, dazzling in the deep blue sky, and it was starting to get warm.

  ‘I’m going to take a sighting, Jaimes.’

  ‘Thought you might.’ He had that look on his face that Daphne saw sometimes, which she hoped was concern, though it could just as easily be scorn.

  ‘Get ready,’ she said.

  Nodding, he walked to the side of the parapet where a crate had been stowed, and started to unpack what she would need.

  Daphne took a firm grip of the parapet with both hands, and looked out in the direction of the river.

  There was a tree, taller than its neighbours, right on the edge of her vision, that she often chose as her target to scan the forest. Using her vision powers in such a way was exhausting, and she suspected it was contributing to her weightloss. Although in the past she had occasionally practised the line-vision skill she possessed on objects as far away as she could manage, she was more used to closer targets. Even a few seconds at long range was a mentally straining experience that left her sick and drained afterwards, as if she had been concentrating to the limit of her abilities for hours, while her head had been in a slowly tightening vice.

  The pain she endured following each burst of line-vision was more than offset by the sheer joy and exhilaration she felt during the moments she was using her powers. Her spirit soared, and she felt borne up on a wave of energy, as her sight unchained itself from her eyes, and flew along a line between her body, and the target she had chosen. Along the length of that line she could look around unimpeded in all directions, just as she could from
the target itself, once she reached it.

  She was unusually blessed, in that she possessed more than one of the vision skills that, according to their scripture, the Creator had gifted the people of the Holdings. Her other power was battle-vision. Despite having never been in a real fight, in close combat training her battle-vision shone. It was as if she could see a slowed down version of everything going on around her, from all angles simultaneously, and she had learned she could easily put down those without a similar gift. Even if she hadn’t been the youngest child of a Holdings lord, her abilities would have marked her out for a career as an officer. Almost everyone on the lower end of the vision scale entered the military. Those who had battle alone usually ended up in the ranks, while those with line or range often became officers or scouts.

  The discovery, at age fourteen, that she held two of the seven vision powers had profoundly changed her life. Her father had been overjoyed when the priests had confirmed that she had passed both the battle and the line tests. Her elder sister Ariel had stormed off in a sulk, bitterly complaining about how Daphne was already the spoiled baby of the family, and now she would be insufferable. Her two brothers hadn’t looked too pleased about it either. Like Ariel, Jonah had exhibited no vision powers, and was already the type of boy who railed against how unfair everything was. The eldest, Vince, had looked the least vexed. Daphne guessed that being the heir to the family’s Holding, as well as possessing battle-vision, was some compensation to being trumped by his little sister. While her father had started loudly planning her future in front of them all, her mother had remained pensive. Though she had rarely voiced it, Daphne knew that her mother had wished to save her youngest from the army. With Vince already destined for the cavalry, losing another to the uniform had been a bitter blow. As far as her father was concerned, having sat through the disappointments of first Jonah’s, and then Ariel’s unsuccessful tests, here at last was a child who shared the same powers he possessed. In an instant she had moved from being mother’s favourite to father’s favourite, and seven years later, her family were still feeling the effects of that fateful day.