Chapter 1 #2
“That better have been from one of the horses,” I said to him sternly. He wagged his tail, and I decided not to check.
“Here, watch this for me,” I said, floating over the Roman’s soul. He bounced it off the top of his head and whined as I turned back to look for more.
Dormath shepherded the Roman souls in a separate group as I picked my way through the field, dashing around and preventing them from wandering.
When I was satisfied I had found them all, I whistled to him again and he sat down, following the wispy shapes with a yellow-eyed gaze in case one dared make a break for it.
I reached out and touched them. They were panicked, lost in a foreign land.
I could tell these were soldiers who had not expected to die, they had not prepared themselves for death.
I used a little of my magic to summon a breeze and lifted each of the souls onto it.
Then I took a deep breath and pushed out, sending all of them south, back over the sea to the continent, to whatever afterlife they had believed in.
I watched them disappear then turned back.
Dormath was rummaging in the ruins of a gilded chariot.
I could tell from the way he was moving that he had found something else to eat.
I sighed and went over. The owner of the chariot had apparently decided to take half a roasted chicken into the battle, presumably against the risk of feeling peckish as he rode down the legions.
Dormath was wolfing it down as if he hadn’t eaten in days.
I grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and tried to fish the chicken out.
“Give me that, you’ll choke on the bones!”
Dormath wriggled out of my grip and streaked away from me, rejoining his brothers as they ran endless circuits.
A chicken leg dangled from his jaws. I considered going and catching him.
I was the faster even if he was more agile, but there was still so much to do.
I gave him the eye and turned back to my labour.
I soon gave up on my hopes of joining the Wild Hunt’s celebrations as it was becoming clear that I would be working all night, would struggle even to finish before the sun came up.
I was as at ease in daylight as in the dark, but soon the humans would start to trickle back to the battlefield, looking to loot the bodies or search for loved ones.
I disliked live humans; I had no business with them before they died, and the dogs were prone to chasing them.
The eastern sky was beginning to blush with the light of a red dawn by the time I had finished combing the battlefield.
Crows and ravens were clustering in the trees to the west of me, waiting for the dogs and me to leave.
They would have a feast ahead of them, I thought, there would be enough meat to stuff every bird south of the Pennines.
The thought didn’t bother me, death would always lead to life.
I straightened up from the last body, a pale-haired Iceni woman who had been split almost in half.
I sent her soul into the air and called the dogs to heel. They rushed at me, panting and wagging their tails. I bent down and patted them, enjoying how the doggish smell blocked out the stink of blood.
“Come on then, are we done? Ready to go again?” In my mind I was already planning out the next journey, intending to head north.
Boudica’s rebellion had occupied so much of my time of late that I had been forced to neglect the northern and western lands and there were bound to be souls there who needed my help.
I would run through the woods taking a more circuitous path than I would at night, in order to avoid settlements.
I flexed my toes and bobbed up and down again.
The sun was threatening to rise at any moment, so I put the battlefield to my back and set off.
I had barely reached the edge of the trees when I felt something. A soul in pain, near death but too tangled up in itself to die. I slowed and looked back at the dogs.
“One more, then.”
I followed the sense of anguish into the woods.
The morning light was quickly blocked out by the leaves, and I found myself darting between the trees in almost total darkness.
There was something else alongside the pain I was sensing, a kind of pressure, causing my ears to pop repeatedly as I approached.
Dormath growled a little and I almost tripped over as he dashed in front of me, a pale blur in the gloom.
I moved closer and identified the cause of the pressure.
It was magic. A strange kind of magic but magic nevertheless.
I was used to my own power, and I knew well the enchantments and tricks of the fae, both high and low.
This was different, imprecise and weak, though its meagre strength was building.
It reminded me of the earth spells the druids had woven, using blood and tree sap to paint ancient symbols through which to channel their incantations.
Ah! I knew it now. Witchcraft. I rarely saw witches or wizards; they almost never needed my assistance in finding the final path.
I had heard of them, though, and I was surprised to find one whose power hadn’t been diminished by whatever was killing her.
It was nothing to worry me, though, so I kept going, crunching twigs and leaves under my feet. The magic was growing as I neared, building in my ears and in my nose. Dormath sneezed and growled again.
A small glade appeared in front of me, well grassed and open to the dawn sky above.
The light was a pinkish gold, bathing the slender elm trees and making the beads of dew sparkle like quartz in granite.
I searched for the dying witch. A tall woman sprawled at the base of one of the trees, her long red hair splayed out around her.
I moved out into the open and sniffed but her soul had long since gone.
There was a sharp intake of breath from the side of me and I turned.
There were two more women in the shadows, one stretched on the ground beneath a spreading oak, her hand pressed to a bloody wound in the front of her dress, the other, barely more than a girl, crouched by her head.
I moved a little closer, tasting the agony and confusion of death on the air.
I had not bothered to glamour myself or the dogs and I heard the dying woman’s breath catch in her throat.
I waved to the dogs to stay back and knelt in front of her, reaching out a hand to touch her face.
I noticed she was muttering something, her lips moving in a blur even as she stared at me.
I smiled at her, thinking she was probably praying. A calming habit for humans, though it didn’t make much difference to me. The other girl leaned forward just as I laid my hand on the dying woman’s forehead. I saw her open her mouth to protest, even as my palm brushed the skin.
There was a huge crash as the magic I had sensed exploded, ballooning out to encompass the three of us.
I reached for the woman’s soul, but it pulled back at me, draining power through the channel I had opened.
I wrenched my hand back and there was a great cracking sound.
I smelled burned metal and salt as I was flung backwards, my body arcing through the air until I hit something solid, and then there was nothing but blackness.