Insect hive invaders are not stung.
The voiceless quiver, the cry of ‘defend the nest’ sent on currents of air and
hair too thin to see, galvanized the whole hive. Diryish sat up as thousands of
bees shrieked into his bedchamber to defend the royal cell.
They flung themselves on the much
bigger spider, clinging to legs and abdomen and head and stinger, while it
struggled to hang onto the mattress, fought to squash itself between two layers
of padding, trying to scrape bees off itself, kicking and flailing its legs to
fling bees off its body.
**
“You know you can’t see weeks
away. Even as the crows fly,” Werfas snorted. “And you came from there on your
own two feet so know how far away that really is.”
“Yeah, well. You can imagine it
though, can’t you?”
“I think so,” Haraklez said.
Werfas just snorted into his teacup.
“Both of you are touched. Just
bonkers.”
“And you’re a stodgy boy who
cannot see past the end of his nose,” Haraklez said tartly, but without any
sting. The words were smooth worn with speaking; an argument that she and
Werfas had had for years before Kyrus ever came.
The spring was far enough
advanced that the short grasses had begun to grow, the thumbnail-sized
starflowers barely taller than a finger, towering over their shorter,
slower-growing brethren. They could just see the tops of the Ancestor stones
below them, safely within the baffles. Kyrus assuaged his conscience by telling
himself they were only a little way out on the unprotected mountainside. And
there was no snow above them, so no danger that he could see.
“So how’re these new lessons
working out?” Haraklez demanded. “Da says we’re not to badger you about it but
he’s working with you as much as he can, his work permitting, up here. And it’s
having an amazing effect on your extra lessons with Elemfias.”
“They’re... wonderful. They’re
amazing but I can’t tell you about them, really. You know, they say every
warrior finds his own path?”
“But there are similar paths that
warriors can follow,” Werfas said. “I mean you’re learning something new
practically every day now and passing it on, just by example.”
“Even doing the warrior mandery,”
Haraklez said. “You’re able to almost manifest your own sword now. And you’re
good even with an iron bar messing you up. If you can fight in an iron
suit, or with steel in your hands, then you can fight anywhere.”
“You Milari,” Kyrus said. “You
have to make it so hard, right at the start.” He had to smile at how badly he’d
felt sparring his father when he’d insisted they both wear some of his old
armour. He’d gone back to feeling like a tigerbear on ice skates, at least at
first.
Below there came a whistle...
Jashi had tried to learn some of the whistles from Kyrus but he sounded
more like a demented colony of marmots rather than a deep desert riding
warrior.
“Werfas, did you tell him we were
sneaking out here?” Haraklez sounded cranky. “He’ll tell everyone and get us in
trouble.”
“Oh, Ancestors Unsleeping!”
Werfas scrambled up to look and see if he could see the little boy. “I didn’t
tell him,” he glanced back at Kyrus and Haraklez. “Honestly.”
“We know,” Kyrus answered. “Call
him up before he lets everyone under Sunlight and over Earthdark know where we
are.”
Da will already know, if he heard
Jas whistling for me. But he’ll be all right with it, I’m sure. He certainly
didn’t warn me against going up mountain or outside the baffles.
Werfas yelled and Jashi, carrying his own tea jug, though not with the
alcoholic addition the teenagers were sneaking, with Tizzie undulating along
behind him, came running up to join his heroes. Haraklez rolled her eyes as did
Werfas. Kyrus just sighed. “Hey, Jashi, you found us. Good tracking, have a
seat.”
**
For every bee the mal-spider
flung off, or bit or stung, or ripped to pieces, there were hundreds more to
replace the fallen one and the spider, smothered in a ball of workers and
drones, claws unable to hold the weight tore loose. The whole mass of bees,
with the spider subsumed in the middle, thudded to the rug below.
Diryish reached to light a
candle, set it in the sconce, not moving from the centre of his bed, watching,
bees covering his bedclothes and his hands and head as if to put their bodies
between the threat and him. The ball of bees was now almost as big across as a
person’s head, the violent twitching of the spider buried inside reduced to
ripples in the organic mass smothering it.
**
Nadian, at his worktable, fell
forward, head hitting his forearms with a crack, struggling to breathe. He
managed to open his jaw against enormous pressure, as if he were crushed,
buried under the city’s weight of sand. He spat out the pooled blood onto the
table, onto the picture under his arms, turning the image of the spider into a
sodden smear of blood and ink.
As the image dissolved, the link
dissolved, he drew a ragged breath and sat up, shaking. What in all the
EnDarkened world was that? It was as though the Emperor had something
enormous enough to crush a jewelled spider in one blow. He’d never seen any
kind of sign of such a creature in the bedchambers and could hardly go rushing
to the Sunrise Loggia now.
He might be venal, but he
certainly was not stupid enough to do that. He loosened his collar, and cuffs,
wiped streams of sweat from his face. When had the heat gone up so much in
here? The cold night air should still have been pressing in around the shutters
and it was just so hot. His silk shirt and trousers were soaked through with
sweat and his hair hung in messy, sodden tendrils, dripping. What happened?
I obviously ran afoul of the Emperor’s protections but I have no idea what they
are and I thought, if I did not succeed in my dear ambition I would at least
find out what they were!
But the link with things like the
spider had never been good for him. He could not see through the insects’ eyes,
or hear through them. It was like trying to control a horse or a moa through ten-foot
long rods, blindfolded, ear-muffled, trying to figure out the beast’s reactions
through the quiver through the hands, which had gloves on as well. He stripped
his disgusting clothing off, moving like an old man, the inside of his lip raw.
I must not be impatient. Time is on my side. I’m the logical choice for the
old man to choose as his successor. There is no one else.
He considered waking Shashi to
calm him. Sex always settled his mind. But she would wonder at him chasing
after her after days of her chasing him and him gently pushing her away. He was
trying too much too soon. Too fast. Impatience will kill you, boy. Slow and
steady will get you what you want. Let the flashy ones burn out and die. He
could almost hear his grandfather’s measured words.
That was enough to settle his
racing heart. He bundled his fouled clothing into the bin for the slave. I
need to sleep. That will be enough.
No comments:
Post a Comment