Adrian Tchaikovsky - Heirs of the Blade

Whitehand stepped to within a few yards of them, his face expressionless, and Tynisa had a moment of wondering what he was waiting for. Then she realized: Single combat, a duel of Weaponsmasters – that’s what he wants. The Mantis intended to accord her the honour due to her badge, before he killed her.

Tynisa did indeed feel honoured. It was the right and proper way, such a fight, and such a death. For a moment she straightened up, directing her sword towards him, but then the crippling thought came, That’s what Tisamon wants as well, the spectre of her father pulling her strings just like before, tugging her down the road of Mantis tragedy. She faltered, and was not ready as Isendter’s stance shifted, impatient for the strike.

They had both forgotten Ygor. The Scorpion moved in a sudden, ugly lunge that would sully the name of any Weaponsmaster. For a moment it seemed that he intended to spit Tynisa herself with his spear, and she had a split second’s glimpse of those eyes, mad with fury and vengeance for his dead pet, his lost wife. Then he was past her, throwing himself at Isendter.

He hurled the spear, and that nearly won him the fight. Isendter was not expecting the enemy to disarm himself, and if he had simply swayed aside, then one of the Dragonflies behind would have taken the shaft in the chest. Instead he struck the spear to the ground with a swift motion of his claw, as Ygor charged him with taloned hands spread wide.

Dal Arche was unexpectedly back, dropping down beside Tynisa. ‘Time to move,’ he said hoarsely. The Dragonfly was staring after his friend, his face creased with emotion, but he was already backing away, drawing her after him, putting distance between them and the fight.

When they turned again, they saw Ygor strike twice, three times, savage and furious, but not one blow landed, and then Isendter killed him with a single clean strike to the throat, using the same deadly blow that Tisamon had always been so fond of. In that moment Dal made a single choked sound, the only grief to escape his control, then he was gone, his wings lifting him away, and Tynisa was running after him.

The irony was that they had forgone the chance to make camp at nightfall. At Che’s behest they had pressed on after dark because Leose was so close, and now that she had regained the two Wasp-kinden she was anxious to catch up with Tynisa again and try once more to persuade her to return home. Had they simply been content to finish the rest of the journey in the morning, then they would probably have gone overlooked that night. As it was, however, the patrol swooped on them within sight of the castle itself, nine Dragonfly-kinden dropping out of the night with spears and swords and bows, forming a loose ring at a wary distance from the four travellers.

Varmen’s pack-beetle started at their sudden appearance, so he lost valuable time hauling on its leash and trying to keep it to heel. Thalric already had his hands ready, an open palm extended to either side, whilst Che found her sword springing to hand, assuming these were yet more of the brigands Tynisa had been dealing with recently.

Her Art sight leached any sense of colour and, whilst aware that they were well armoured, she could not distinguish their livery. It was left to Maure to state, ‘These are the Salmae’s people.’

By now Varmen had his beast under control, and had also thrust a palm out threateningly. The Dragonflies, having descended on them so swiftly, now seemed to be unsure of themselves, or perhaps unhappy with the odds.

‘What is this?’ Che asked of them. ‘We’re no enemies of the Salmae. We’re travelling towards Leose even now. What’s happened?’

‘You’re the Spider’s sister?’ one of them challenged.

‘Foster-sister,’ Che clarified, for what seemed like the hundredth time. ‘Please, tell me what has happened.’

‘You’re under arrest,’ the man snapped. ‘The princess has ordered you brought to Leose.’

‘I was already going to Leose-!’ Che started, but Thalric interrupted.

‘What’s the charge? Or does Commonweal justice need no reasons?’

Che was about to warn him that he was not helping, but the ring of Dragonflies had widened, slightly but perceptibly, as he challenged them, and she thought she understood why.

‘She has freed the prisoners, the brigands. She has killed our people,’ the leader of the patrol snarled. He gripped his sword in both hands, plainly readying himself to strike. Two of his followers were archers, both women with arrows already to the string and aimed, one at Varmen, one at Thalric, and each of them recipients of the Wasps’ attention in return. Che knew that there was only so long a bowstring could be restrained.

‘Tynisa did that?’ she asked hurriedly and, when the man gave a brief nod, added, ‘And you saw her?’

‘I did,’ one of the archers declared flatly.

‘We have to act now, to get the drop on them,’ Thalric hissed between his teeth.

‘Wait,’ Che said, for everyone’s benefit. ‘Hold, there’s no need for bloodshed.’

‘You have to come with us,’ the patrol leader insisted, but there was now a tremor to his voice, his eyes flicking between Thalric and Varmen. It was a familiar reaction from all through Commonweal lands, the scars the Twelve-year War had left on the minds of the losers. Three-to-one odds were not enough to overcome such a legacy.

Still, something was likely to snap any moment, either one of the archers or one of the Wasps, and things had obviously gone badly wrong at Leose. I have to know what’s happened, Che decided.

‘You just want me, then,’ she informed them. ‘Your orders were to bring back Tynisa’s sister?’

‘Che-’ Thalric started angrily, but she silenced him with a look.

‘They meant…’ The patrol leader grimaced unhappily. ‘I’m sure

…’

‘Take me to Leose. I have committed no crime, nor harmed anybody. I will come of my own free will to see what my sister has done, and to answer for her if I can. But my companions have no part in this, and if you attempt to take them, then…’ she almost said, they will fight, but decided a little more drama was necessary, ‘they will kill you.’

She could see that they believed it, the same fear stamped on each face.

‘Che, not again,’ Thalric hissed.

‘I am not being taken prisoner,’ she insisted. ‘I am going of my own free will.’ This was more to save her pride than to reassure him, for he had mocked her about the number of different cells she had seen the inside of, his own included.

I do not want a fight here, though, for the odds are not good, and besides, I do not want to make enemies of Salma’s own family. Surely there must be a sensible solution to this.

‘Trust me,’ she told Thalric, although she felt far from certain herself. She stepped forward, away from the others, a slow and careful movement, aware of the bowstrings loosening and hoping that the Wasps would not see this as an opportunity.

‘Take me to Leose,’ she instructed the patrol. ‘I have my wings, so I can fly at least part of the distance.’

She had half expected to be brought before Salme Elass in her throne room, surrounded by the woman’s court and servants, to give whatever account of her sister’s actions she could. Diplomacy, she told herself, had always been one of her stronger suits – at least she had not been killed for it yet. A more pessimistic prediction anticipated stone walls and bars, and perhaps worse. Neither prediction bore fruit.

When she was brought into the courtyard of Leose, the place was alive with hasty preparations. There were armed men on horseback, inside the gates and outside, and a ragged company of spearmen was being assembled even as she entered. Whatever had happened here at Leose, a great many people now seemed set to leave it. Aside from a handful of servants, everyone she saw was armed and ready for battle, and their faces spoke of bloody murder.