Adrian Tchaikovsky - Blood of the Mantis

But now the Empire was suddenly interested again and Havel rapidly decided to present himself as a model officer of the Rekef Outlander because, so long as he was left in charge here, any indiscretions, bribery, sedition and mercenary work might stay unnoticed.

‘The Empire’s relationships with my kinden have suffered a blow just recently,’ said Odyssa a little later. The Spider-kinden was now reclining elegantly on a couch and looking slyly attractive even in her dusty travel-garb. He would have been bragging and flirting with her had she been anyone else, but this was a Rekef lieutenant who, from her papers, seemed to have just crossed the infamous Dryclaw on her own, and that put him off. Like many Wasp men, he found very capable women disconcerting.

‘So what’s the deal?’ he pressed. ‘You want us to step up the operation here?’

‘You may have to eventually,’ she told him. ‘For now, though, be aware that there are Lowlander agents in Solarno, or shortly to arrive. The Lowlanders have decided to bring their war all the way out to the Sea of Exiles, and it’s up to you to deal with them.’

‘That’s easy enough. Any idea who they’ve sent?’

‘Every idea, Captain.’ She smiled sweetly. ‘A Beetle-kinden named Cheerwell Maker, and a Fly named Nero. She is like most of her kind, too short and too fat. He is bald and really quite ugly. General Reiner would like this situation taken care of personally.’

‘I’ll send him their heads packed in salt if he wants,’ Havel offered. Already he was beginning to relax. What had seemed like an unwelcome intrusion on his authority was now a chance to reassure his superiors that everything was going according to plan. Two dead Lowlanders and his position would be secure again. With that settled in his mind he relaxed more comfortably opposite her, his smile becoming more genuine. ‘Are you staying long in the city, Lieutenant…?’ He glanced at the papers but she forestalled him.

‘Odyssa,’ she said. ‘And only overnight. Then I must return for further orders. However, if you have a place for me to stay in a safe house… or perhaps even just a bed?’

Although well used to dealing with Spiders, Havel felt his heart skip as she gazed at him, and he called out for a slave to bring them more wine.

Wasp-kinden! Odyssa laughed inwardly. Their Empire was the greatest power in the world, and yet they were such children. A little touch of her Art on this one and she could have him strip naked and let her ride him all around the outskirts of Solarno.

Teornis of the Aldanrael would be delighted when he received her report.

There was a strange hush amongst his fellow Moth-kinden as Achaeos returned through the lightless halls to his fellows. His thoughts were so soured by the Skryre’s words that he barely noticed, barely even registered, that here, in his birthplace, something was very badly wrong.

He had expected to find his comrades crouched shivering against the walls, but they were on their feet and ready waiting for him, practically dragging him into the room.

‘Where have you been?’ Allanbridge demanded.

‘Never mind that. We should leave now. There’s nothing for us here,’ Achaeos said heavily.

‘Blasted right we should leave!’ the Beetle said. ‘They’re coming!’

Achaeos stared at him. ‘They?’

‘Some of your people flew in just now,’ said Thalric. He was sitting in one corner of the room, the only one not standing, and as far away from both Tisamon and Gaved as space would allow. ‘The Empire is coming, Moth. As of a few hours’ time, this will be imperial territory.’

A hammer struck somewhere in Achaeos. He had known, surely he had known, and yet it was a different thing to be told of it as a certainty. I have to help them fight was the only thought that came to him. His hands already itched to string his bow.

He glanced at Tisamon, because he found that of all of them it was the Mantis whom he trusted most. Tisamon nodded once. His clawed gauntlet was on his hand, and he was spoiling for battle.

‘Your people are just… standing about,’ Tynisa added. ‘They’re not even armed. They’re just standing there, crowds of them, just waiting.’

They have a plan. The Skryre had said as much. He only hoped it was a good one. ‘I don’t think they’re going to fight,’ he announced.

‘Well, your people are supposed to be wise,’ Thalric said. ‘I once saw an air-armada during the Twelve-Year War. They pitched up against a castle on a hill and pounded it with leadshotters until it had become a castle in the next valley. Let’s face it, there’s a lot of fragile carving on this mountain of yours.’

‘I don’t mean to sound tactless, but can we bloody go?’ Allanbridge demanded. ‘Look, they’ll have glasses scouring every inch of your fancy stonework out there. What do you think they’ll do, if they see an airship leaving this place?’

‘You’re right,’ Achaeos decided. Allanbridge’s Buoyant Maiden was tethered closely, only a precipitous scramble. ‘Come on.’ Achaeos skipped out into early-morning air that was just lightening.

Allanbridge clambered next out through the wall-opening, clinging to the sheer mountainside by Art alone, and Tynisa followed behind him, then came Gaved who flew straight to the gondola and began preparing to cast off. Tisamon stayed back, having seen the pensive look on Thalric’s face.

‘You’ll get on that flying machine or I will kill you,’ the Mantis warned.

‘You think I’d jump ship now?’ Thalric snorted. ‘There’s nothing for me here. They’d hold me until they worked out who I was, then I’d be just as dead as the rest of you.’ Still, there was clearly a tinge of regret in him as he climbed through the window and made his way along the narrow ledge, wings flicking occasionally to retain his balance. Tisamon watched him, wondering whether he was really too injured to risk taking flight, or whether this was just an act.

As soon as the Mantis had finally joined them, running lightly along the ledge and jumping for the gondola, Gaved cast them off. Allanbridge instantly released the clockwork driving the engine and the propellers flew into life amid a delicate whir of gears. He then put the tiller into the wind and adjusted the vanes, and the Buoyant Maiden slowly began to tack away from Tharn.

‘Look,’ pointed Tynisa, who was at the rail, leaning out. Beneath a cloudy sky there could be seen distant flecks of darker matter. The Wasp air-armada was on its way.

‘Airships,’ Allanbridge observed. ‘Big ones too, a half-dozen at least. Can’t see any small stuff from here without my ’scope.’

‘I can,’ Tynisa told him. ‘I can’t count them up, but I think three dozen fliers.’

‘Not to mention probably about two thousand of the light airborne,’ Thalric added. He had not even come over to look. ‘They’ll have them clinging to the dirigibles, everywhere they can, all wrapped in their woollies. I would, too, if I were in charge.’

‘Do you know who will be leading them?’ Achaeos asked him, ‘and what… what will they do to my people?’

Looking back, they could see crowds of Moths lining the balconies and entrances of Tharn, hundreds of robed figures standing, blinking in the unaccustomed daylight. There were others amongst them: Fly-kinden and Mantis warriors. Way below, even the farmers had not gone to bed with the moon but now stood silently in their tiered fields, waiting, waiting.

‘That’s no proper army,’ Thalric said, almost contemptuously. ‘An expeditionary force – that’s all your city merits. They’ll have picked some officer to appoint governor of this place, if your people roll over. Nobody important, though. It’s not as though this backwater has anything anyone would want.’