Adrian Tchaikovsky - Empire in Black and Gold

‘Killed my kind. .?’

He looked at her sharply. ‘Those who would have killed me,’ he said simply. ‘You must have guessed it.’ Whatever he had put in the water obviously stung his wound sharply and he winced as he removed the cloth. ‘Do you have a name, Beetlechild?’

‘Cheerwell,’ she said. ‘Cheerwell Maker.’ He arched an eyebrow at that. ‘It’s a perfectly good name,’ she continued, giving him a frown. ‘People call me Che.’

He paused a long moment, the reply slow in coming. ‘I am Achaeos and you have my thanks. The omens warned me that our work of last night would not end as I expected. I am grateful that you have found a way to fulfil that.’

‘Omens. .?’ she said helplessly. ‘You took part in that raid because of omens?’

‘No, despite them.’ He slung the cloth back into the water. ‘What will you do now?’

‘Go back into the house and try to forget this ever happened,’ she said firmly, though she knew that she would remember Achaeos for a very long time. She realized that she was on her knees, which were starting to hurt. She began to shift, and he put a hand out to help her up.

Standing, she held on to it for a second longer. It was calloused in strange places, and she guessed it was an archer’s hand.

‘I cannot fly, not until I have rested further. I will leave here tonight, I think, if I can.’

She nodded. ‘I. . I think that would be best.’

As she left the stables she paused a moment to lean against the closed door. She felt strangely detached from the real world, as though it had all been some dream. How could something so unusual happen to someone like me? Still, the tingle of his hand in hers remained to vouch for it.

She could see a party of men from Helleron, either on their way to the house or the mines. More soldiers for tonight’s defence. She hoped that Elias would have finished his business here by then. She did not want another night of bloodshed on her conscience, not now she had met the enemy.

‘You really do surprise me sometimes,’ was Salma’s response to the whole business.

‘You mean you think I was wrong?’

‘I didn’t say that. I’m just surprised. What happened to all that march-of-progress rhetoric of yours?’

‘I. .’ If he was going to be so mocking about it, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of letting him know it had been his own views that had swayed her. ‘I just felt it was the right thing to do and. .’

He raised an eyebrow, waiting.

‘He’s still out there, waiting for dusk,’ she explained. ‘It’s. . strange, knowing that.’

‘Well now.’ His smile was merciless.

‘It’s not like that. It’s just. . strange,’ she said heatedly. And it wasn’t like that. It isn’t! But Achaeos still lingered in her memory: strange, dangerous, ephemeral. From another world.

And then she thought back to the revolution of the Apt, five centuries gone, when her people had thrown off the yoke. A Spider historian had once described it as the ‘revolution of the ugly’: the solid-built, strong-shouldered slaves, the Beetle-kinden and the Ants. We do not have their grace , she admitted to herself. She knew it more than most. Growing up alongside Tynisa would teach anyone that.

Salma was watching her carefully, and she wondered how much her expression had let slip.

‘I think it was the right thing too, whatever may come of it,’ he said softly.

‘Thank you.’

There was a rap at their door, and Che opened it on one of the servants.

‘Excuse me, miss, sir, but Master Monger wishes to speak with you. He’s waiting in the dining room.’ There was a slight edge to the man’s voice, and she felt a chill descend on her. They’ve found him! She couldn’t tell whether her fear was for Achaeos or for herself.

She glanced at Salma, who put a comforting hand on her shoulder. Together they went across the main room of Elias’s house into the dining room that occupied one corner. It was a simple affair, as was all of the house compared to the comforts Elias allowed himself in the city. Just a table and half a dozen chairs, and a door into the kitchen for the servants to shuttle food through.

‘Uncle-’ Che started, and then stopped, because Elias, sitting at the table, was not alone. There was a man with him and for a moment Che thought she should know him, but could not place him. It was only when Salma’s punch-sword cleared its scabbard that she realized the newcomer was a Wasp.

‘Wait!’ she cried. ‘Uncle Elias, what’s going on?’ She herself still had not drawn. Beside her Salma had turned, and she heard movement in the main room behind them.

‘Please tell me.’ Che stared at Elias. His look was uncomfortable. He would not meet her eyes.

‘This is Captain Thalric,’ he said. ‘He was. . very quick to answer the notice I put up, about your friends. It seems you’ve been meddling in things you shouldn’t, girl. You should never have left Collegium.’

Che had stepped into the room, giving Salma a chance to stand back to back. She heard the Dragonfly murmur, ‘Seven here,’ just as the kitchen door opened and another four Wasp soldiers, in full armour, stepped through.

‘But I’m family! Your blood!’ she protested. ‘Uncle!’

‘ Blood? ’ Elias looked up at her with a sudden flare of anger. ‘Because you’re the brat of that brainless oaf Dorvy, the wastrel of the entire family? Or the ward of that obnoxious eccentric Stenwold? This is Helleron, girl. We don’t have time for your charity or philosophy. We’re all trying to earn an honest living here and Captain Thalric represents some of my best customers, whereas you. . you’re just an inconvenience. Now tell your outlander friend to put his sword down and do the decent thing.’

That did it. Her blade was out in a moment and she was up onto the table in another, charging down it point first at an aghast Elias. Behind her, chaos broke loose as the soldiers rushed Salma, but she knew the intruders at the kitchen door were not close enough to stop her.

Thalric was, however. Che had written him off as the typical officer type, one to stand about and watch others do the dirty work. Instead he lunged forward, caught her wrist and turned it, her blade’s point passing from Elias, across Thalric’s chest and then past him. She rammed into him with some speed and the two of them took the entire table with them as they collapsed to the floor.

Salma was meanwhile doing his best, and two Wasp soldiers were already reeling back with bloody wounds. There was no room for him, though. He could not take flight and they were crowding all about him. A fist caught his jaw, another slammed into his side. He got his short blade into a third man, deep this time, a fatal wound. The soldier hunched about it, clutched at Salma’s wrist as he tried to free the sword. Salma elbowed the nearest Wasp in the face, still wrenching at the trapped blade. One of them was behind him, dragging at him, an arm round his neck. He went down, losing his blade, letting the backward momentum pull him from the soldier’s grip. His hands lashed out, breaking one man’s nose, knuckling another in the eye. In a moment, maybe just for a moment, he was free of them, diving for the hilt of his sword.

Che wrestled furiously with the Wasp officer, Thalric. He had her sword wrist pinned to the floor and was grimly trying to catch her offhand with his own. His face, close enough for her to smell the wine on his breath, had a set, determined expression. Even when she managed to get a solid fist into the side of his head he just grunted. Then he had her, and was casting himself backward and up, dragging her with him. She discovered that he was much stronger than he looked, certainly a lot stronger than she was.