Adrian Tchaikovsky - Dragonfly Falling

Stenwold recaptured the podium, hands in the air to concede the point. ‘Very well, no embassy to the Spider-lands.’ Then his eyes sought out Tisamon. ‘I. hesitate to ask this. I know the Ants of Sarn have fair relations with their Mantis neighbours, but-’

‘But we folk of Felyal are less approachable, is that it?’ Tisamon suggested.

There was a murmur of amusement from amongst the War Council. ‘Can you deny it?’ Stenwold asked.

‘Nor would I wish to.’ Tisamon strode down the steps until he stood at the front, although he did not seek to take Stenwold’s pride of place. ‘And, yes, I will be your embassy to my own people, although I can promise nothing. Draw a line from Tark to Collegium, though, and the Felyal lies square in the way. I think my people would be even more unapproachable to the Wasps than to you.’

When the debate was over Tisamon sought out Stenwold again. The Beetle was seated in a spare office of the College, three rooms down from where the War Council had been held, with several pyramids of scrolls stacked ready to hand for the scribes to copy.

‘You seem to be keeping them busy,’ the Mantis remarked.

Stenwold raised an eyebrow. ‘What’s on your mind, Tisamon?’

‘You should know that I’m taking Tynisa with me.’

‘Absolutely out of the question,’ Stenwold replied without hesitation.

‘She wants to go.’

‘That’s not the issue.’

‘And you cannot stop her.’

‘Maybe not,’ Stenwold admitted. ‘Tisamon, my past record in keeping members of my family from danger is poor, but just think for a moment. I know they are your people, but they will kill her. They will kill her because they’ll assume she’s Spider-kinden, and if they find out what she really is they’ll kill her that much quicker. You almost killed her yourself when first you met her.’

‘There is a way,’ Tisamon said, ‘though her stay will not be pleasant, I’m sure. All you say about my people is correct. but they will not kill her out of hand.’

‘Tisamon, please-’

‘She deserves it, Sten. Her own people, remember. For all they will hate her, and hate me too, no doubt, she deserves to see her father’s tribe, if only to reject it.’

Stenwold grimaced. ‘I can see this means a lot to you.’

Tisamon smiled bleakly. ‘We are not a numerous kin-den. If the Wasp army comes to the Felyal, with its machines and its thousands, my people will fight, you may be sure of that. They will kill ten of the enemy for every one of themselves that falls, and yet there will still be more Wasps in the end.’

‘You. think it will come to that?’

‘If the Wasps attack us, it may. I would say they would pay dearly, if only the Empire did not value its own soldiers so cheaply. I can see the Felyal cut and burned, the holds of my people shattered, and for that reason, if no other, I must warn them of their enemy’s scale and power. And Tynisa must see them as they are, in case, when this is all over, there is nothing left to see.’

Something in Tisamon’s face shocked Stenwold, right then. Familiarity makes us forget these differences. Tisamon had been his friend for such a long time that he had become, in Stenwold’s mind, almost the tame Mantis, the man half-divorced from his wild people, his ancient, dark heritage. Now, in those angular features, he saw a weight of history that made all Collegium seem like a single turn of the glass, and it was receding, it was fading. It was falling into darkness.

‘Yes,’ said Stenwold. ‘If she will go, I have no right at all to say no. But, Tisamon-’

‘Of course,’ Tisamon said, a hand on his arm. ‘What harm I can prevent, I shall. Whatever harm that is in my power to prevent.’

There was an abrupt rap at the door and Stenwold sighed. ‘More war business,’ he said heavily. ‘You’d better make your preparations.’

Tisamon’s hand moved to his friend’s shoulder, exerting a brief pressure. ‘Be safe, Sten. You’ve now got what you’ve been wanting for twenty years. You’ve got them listening to you, so don’t waste your chance.’

Stenwold nodded, opening the door for him, seeing the Beetle woman messenger waiting. He waited until Tisamon had strode out of sight before asking about her business, sure that it was bound to be another burden of the coming conflict.

‘Master Maker,’ the messenger reported, ‘a foreigner, a halfbreed, has come to the city looking for you. She said she has news of Tark.’

‘Of Tark?’ The wheels were already moving in his mind. ‘Her name?’

‘Is Skrill, she says, War Master,’ the messenger told him, and he felt a shock go through him. The blade that had been held over him, for so long he had almost forgotten it, was suddenly dropping.

‘Take me to her,’ he ordered. ‘Now!’

‘And so you left,’ Stenwold said heavily, after Skrill had told him her story, with all its wearisome digressions and diversions.

‘Weren’t my idea. Your man Totho did the plan,’ protested the gangly halfbreed sitting across the table from him. She scowled defensively. ‘What you think I was gonna do?’

‘No, you’re right,’ Stenwold said. ‘It wasn’t your fight. You were hired as a scout, not to fight for Tark.’

‘Straight up,’ Skrill agreed.

‘And so.?’

‘Once I got far out enough, I stuck around. I thought I’d see the big balloons go on fire like the plan was. Only they never did. Next night I weren’t so far off that I couldn’t see the city burning.’

‘And so they failed,’ said Stenwold. He felt physically ill with the strain of it all.

‘Looks that way,’ Skrill agreed, and then added, ‘Sorry,’ a little later.

‘Hammer and tongs, what have I done?’ Stenwold whispered. He heard a sound at the door, the clink of metal, and then Balkus opened it, peering in respectfully.

‘Master Maker?’ he began.

‘A moment,’ Stenwold told him, and the big Ant hovered in the doorway as he turned to Skrill again. ‘Where are you for now?’

‘Well, excuse me, Master Maker, but I hear you got all kind of trouble coming down on you here. I’m for home, which is a wasting long ways from here. This ain’t my fight. I’m sorry.’

‘I can ask no more of you. I’ll see you’re paid, and supplied as well.’

She nodded, her narrow face unhappy. ‘I liked your boys, Master Maker. Salma especially. He was quite something. I’m sorry it looks like they’re gone.’

Stenwold said nothing, and she stood up and slipped out past Balkus.

‘Are you. all right?’ the Ant asked cautiously.

Stenwold shook his head slowly. ‘Another two of my own sent to their deaths. Attacking the Wasp camp! What were they thinking?’

‘They knew the risks,’ Balkus said philosophically. ‘I’m sure they knew what they were getting into.’

‘But they weren’t sent there as soldiers. They were just. ’

‘Spies,’ Balkus filled in. ‘Better they went as soldiers. That’s why I’d never do spy work for Scuto, only strong-arming and the like. Soldiers live rough and die clean, and if they’re captured, there’s a respect between us men who live with the sword. If they went like soldiers, on the attack, then that’s for the best, because spies who get captured don’t get any mercy. Everyone hates spies.’

Stenwold shook his head. He wished, fervently wished, that he had a friend left, that he could talk to. Balkus was a loyal man, but blunt and simple of outlook, and Stenwold needed to sit with an old friend, and drink and vent his woes. He had nobody though. Che and Scuto were still north in Sarn. Tisamon, who he could have leant on, was heading east and taking Tynisa with him. He was being left alone here, and the weight of Collegium’s woes lay on his shoulders.