Steph Swainston - Dangerous Offspring

The waters’ edge was slick with glistening wet carapaces. The tops of their eyes emerged first, then their leg joints, combing through the ripples. They crawled straight out, head, thorax and the strange long abdomen; rivulets running down between their hard segments.

Oh no…These are the hatchlings. Young Insects. Insect larvae .

Lourie’s troops had dissolved into a tussling, hopelessly entangled mob of men, crushed by their own confusion and swarmed over by the larvae. They were pressed so closely together they were suffocating. I saw armoured fists raised. Men used sword pommels to club each other out of the way. None of the infantry could see the lake. To them, the creatures were closing in from all sides equally, so thick on the ground that one man could do nothing. They had no idea what they were facing. The great length of pikes was useless against creatures close by and tight against the mud, and the small sword or misericord most carried was too short to be effective without bending down. The larvae were crawling up the legs of the armoured men, biting in between their plates, hanging off faulds, curling around men’s necks. As they stabbed at one, another bit them. Men wrenched them off, leaving chitinous legs trapped between their armour’s plates, but as they pulled one off, more swarmed up.

The heavy infantry by now were seriously worried, even though few had even seen the larvae yet. On the wings I could see their step beginning to waver and corporal looking to sergeant; sergeant to captain; captain to warden; warden to governor or Eszai, all wanting to know what to do.

Lourie and those with him-already no more than a company-were now nearly surrounded. Larvae flowed towards them like a tan wave. He knew it was safer to keep fighting than to run. Anyone who ran was borne down by clinging hatchlings, or tripped as several lunged at his feet, or he slipped in the mud and they overwhelmed him.

Lourie was spinning his glaive and stabbing larvae before and behind him. He was making his way steadily backwards but his path was blocked by the jostling crush-the remains of his own ranks. Bodies were beginning to pile up on the edges. The men in the middle were heaving their own dead out of the way to give themselves more room, but the armoured bodies only hemmed them in and gave the ravenous larvae a feast.

I chose a spot some distance from Lourie, slightly ahead of the front of the advancing larvae, and landed. ‘Hurricane!’ I yelled.

Lourie’s sallow face turned towards me for an instant. His legs were muddied up to the hips. He had taken his helmet off and his cornrow-braided hair glistened with sweat.

I yelled, ‘Run! There’s a way out, here!’

Lourie ignored me. ‘The Emperor,’ he said loudly, looking down. ‘I’m not running in front of the Emperor.’

‘There’s nothing you can do! Come on!’

Lourie said something derogatory about Rhydanne. He spun the glaive high and under his arm, accurately stabbing a crawling larva. He lifted it into the air. It flicked its tail under it, spattering mud.

They were sweeping towards me quickly, jetting water out of their tails to propel themselves through the liquid pooled over the churned earth, swarming on their short legs across the drier ground. Their hunger seemed even more desperate and insatiable than the adults’. I readied myself, trying to make out the nearest. It had a narrow, cylindrical shape and a long abdomen made up of segments that came to a point.

Familiar, but smaller, six jointed legs were bunched together under its thorax. The flattened head was hunched and joined to its body by a thick neck. It was dark brown with paler sandy and black spots along its sides. The crook-backed carapace was thinner, with many more joints and far more flexible than an Insect. Thick spines edged and topped its sinuous abdomen. Tiny wing-buds lay tight against its thorax like a backpack; much smaller than Insects’ undeveloped wings but these were recognisably a different stage in the life-cycle of the same creature.

I had seen enough. I swung my ice axe at it, missed, and the pick passed close to its head. It reared up onto its two back legs, spread out its front legs and opened its jaws threateningly. Another made straight for my foot. Its jaws shot out and grabbed my ankle. Fucking shit! Its jaws shoot out! It bit straight through my boot and suddenly a pair of hooks twisted in my ankle. I slammed my axe down through its neck, with the speed of pain. It was impaled, but it didn’t let go. It flexed the joint of its extendible jaw and pulled its body towards me by the fangs anchored in my boot. I levered them out with the axe pick. It curled up, convulsing-its mandible folded limply back underneath its head.

I took steps backwards, smashing the heads of larvae around me. Pleased with my prowess I looked up-the whole kilometre of ground from myself to the lake was swarming with them! I ran, limping, in the opposite direction and took off.

Dank though it was, the air had rarely felt so welcoming. Unfortunately I couldn’t stay up here, I had to stop the rout spreading. I could feel my bitten foot bleeding into my boot. My flight path took me over the left flank; Tornado’s halted formation. I’ll tell him first.

I came down in front of the heavy infantry. Their nervous eyes peered from helmet slits. More mud splattered into my flight feathers as I slid to a halt. I couldn’t keep doing this or I would soon be grounded. Tornado exploded out of the ranks before me, over two metres of confused belligerence in chain mail.

‘Jant! What the fuck’s going on?’

‘Insects. Larvae, I think. Loads of them, coming this way.’

‘What?’

I stopped, took a breath. ‘It’s a new type of Insect, coming from the lake. They’re smaller but there’s millions of them. Hard to see cos they keep very close to the ground. I killed a couple; they’re softer than adults. But they’re fast and they can swim. Lourie’s cut off! Pikes are useless against them. His men are running.’

‘No! No one runs! Not now!’

I had never seen him look so furious.

‘Tornado, this is something new…’

‘What about spears? Are they any use?’

‘Short ones might be, if you stab down with them. Long swords, maces, axes maybe. Their jaws are on a hinge, like an arm! They shoot out this far in front! One bit me in the ankle! I saw them reaching through gaps in armour.’

He called, ‘Signal the advance! Fyrd! Follow me! Your Emperor is watching! Runners! Tell Serein to keep his men close to us-don’t let any spaces open up!’

‘What are you doing?’

‘My job. These soldiers are the Select of the Plainslands and they’re not trying to wield a pike like a tree-trunk. You can tell San that we’re going to rescue Hurricane and then we’re going to reach our objective. If you can kill them, so can we.’ He spoke loudly, for the benefit of the front ranks. They cheered. He looked at me levelly, though without malice.

‘Look-’

‘That’s all, Jant.’ He turned away.

‘Excuse me!’ But the bastard didn’t pay the slightest bit of attention. I muttered as I took off, ‘I’ll go find someone intelligent to talk to.’

Now with a better view I could see the central phalanx had disintegrated into a bloody shambles. Those who could were splashing away, shoving through the archers behind them, discarding weapons and armour. The captain of a Rachiswater division tried to halt them. She grabbed a man but he kept running with such force that he pulled her from her horse and they both fell struggling into the mud. The surrounding infantry began to form up into shield walls, whether out of fear of Insects or their own routers I couldn’t know.

Sirocco was trying to stage a more orderly retreat with what remained of his command but he was now faced by solid ranks of shields and spears in the hands of panicking men.