Janny Wurts - The Complete Empire Trilogy - Daughter of the Empire, Mistress of the Empire, Servant of the Empire

Keyoke seized upon a discrepancy. ‘You said “difficult”, not “impossible”.’

Araksi inclined his head in agreement. ‘True.’

Mara said, ‘Lujan’s grey warriors seemed to take our needra with small difficulty.’

Arakasi couldn’t avoid a grin. ‘Again true, but he had an advantage: I told him when and where to strike.’

Keyoke became dangerously still. ‘It seems we have something to discuss.’ He gestured, indicating his desire to withdraw. ‘My Lady?’

Mara withheld her consent. ‘Is there any estate in the Empire so well guarded that no stranger or outlaw could slip through?’

‘Only one,’ said Arakasi, apparently unconcerned with Keyoke’s ire. ‘The estate of the Lord of the Dachindo, far to the east.’

Mara smiled, as if she had won a small victory. ‘Now indeed, Keyoke, you and Arakasi have something to discuss.’ She watched as the two men rose and moved apart, conferring quietly, heads close together in the misty grey dawn. As much as Keyoke might take umbrage at the implied shortcomings in his defence of the estate, Mara knew wisdom would prevail. He would relish any information the Spy Master could offer to better his protection of his mistress. Confident that by the time of her wedding the Dachindo would no longer be the only estate impenetrable to trespassers, she sent a slave for her comb. In the last minutes before the company started off down the trail, she applied herself to the ongoing frustration of trying to work the knots from her long hair without benefit of a maid.

The day grew hot. The soldiers marched uncomplaining, through a gradually changing landscape. The lowland plains with their patchwork of paddies and meadows gave way to forested hills crowned with rocks. The trees became old and wild, veiled in flowering vines and thorn. Yet the more difficult the terrain, the more the spirits of the men rose. They had made good time, and as sunlight fell slanting across the trail, the travellers reached the far border of the Inrodaka estates. Arakasi asked for a halt. While the soldiers changed from field armour to lacquered and polished dress armour, he said, ‘We must leave this trail and cut across this ridge to another over there.’ He waved at a notch in the woodlands, barely more than a path, that led upward into denser forest.

Keyoke paused in his changing, his plumed helm half unpacked. ‘I thought cho-ja built hives in meadows or valleys.’

Arakasi wiped sweat from his forehead. The light was fading quickly and he seemed concerned that they reach their destination before nightfall. ‘Mostly that’s true; at least, I’ve never heard of a hive that’s not situated in the open.’ He pointed up the trail. ‘Further on, the woods thin. There’s a meadowed valley about a thousand feet higher up. That’s the place we seek.’

Mara overheard. ‘So this old hive is not on Inrodaka lands?’

‘No, but there is some sort of treaty nevertheless.’ Arakasi gestured to the north, where the forest grew wild and thick. ‘These lands were once part of a larger estate, who knows how many years ago. When that Lord, whoever he was, fell, his holdings were divided among the conquerors, the Inrodaka among them. This area was left unclaimed. It’s not very good land. The timber’s rich, but too difficult to log out, and there are only two or three meadows for herds, all without trails to lowland pastures. Still, the cho-ja accept the Inrodaka as their landlords without making an issue of it. Who knows how they think.’ Directing the lead soldiers up the trail, he said, ‘From here we must be cautious but restrained. We may be challenged by cho-ja soldiers. We must not fight. With a new queen in the hive, even the seasoned warriors will be very tense and aggressive. They may feint attack, so let no man draw sword, else we’ll all be slaughtered.’

Mara consulted Keyoke, then approved the Spy Master’s order. Arrayed in brilliant Acoma green, they began their climb. The trail cut sharply upward, angling between jagged outcrops of rock. Travel by litter became impossible, and even on foot Keyoke had to help Mara with the more difficult ascents. These were no switchback trails cut for humans, but paths fit only for kumi, the six-legged mountain goat of Kelewan; and for the agile cho-ja. The bearers fared worst of all, sweating and grunting under their loads, while others hauled the empty litter along by main force.

The sun shone hot on the backs of the soldiers. Strange mountain birds took flight from the trees at their approach, and thickets teemed with game. Fascinated by sights utterly new and strange, Mara never thought to complain of sore feet.

Just after midday, a shout arose from the lead patrol. Keyoke caught Mara’s arm and hurried her to the head of the trail, where a dozen cho-ja soldiers stood with spears across their upper torsos, at the ready but not menacing. Shiny black, with six jointed limbs and bodies segmented like those of insects, they all looked identical to Mara, as if struck from the mould of a guild craftsman. She regarded the aliens and felt utterly at a loss.

‘These are old hive warriors,’ Keyoke observed. ‘They will not attack us unless we give them cause.’

Keyoke’s words helped steady her. She waited, tense as her escort, while her Force Commander advanced and saluted, his upraised arm bent at the elbow, palm forward. ‘Honour to your hive.’

The nearest cho-ja spoke in a surprisingly intelligible voice. ‘Honour to your house, men of the Acoma. Who speaks? The hive must be informed of your presence.’

‘I am Keyoke, Force Commander of the Acoma.’

The lead cho-ja returned the salute. As he moved, Mara saw how his body was segmented, a larger rear thorax with four three-jointed legs and a smaller upper thorax, roughly comparable to a man’s torso, with two almost human arms. His flesh was encased in chitin, and each forearm possessed a natural ridge that appeared as sharp as a sword edge. Upon his head he wore a helm of obvious Tsurani manufacture. The face within was oval, with large multifaceted eyes above two slits where a nose should be. The cho-ja’s jaw and mouth were surprisingly human in appearance, though his voice was singsong and high-pitched. ‘I am Ixal’t, Force Leader of the Second Command of hive Kait’lk.’

‘Now I remember.’ Keyoke relaxed fractionally, as if in the presence of an old acquaintance. ‘You served during the invasion of the Thuril Highlands.’ That explained how this cho-ja recognized Acoma colours. He motioned Mara to his side. ‘This is our Lady of the Acoma. She has come to negotiate with your new queen.’

Eyes like faceted metal flickered briefly over the girl at Keyoke’s side. Then the cho-ja executed a fair imitation of a human bow. ‘Welcome, Lady. Your arrival is timely. The new warriors are restless. This hatching is abundant and we are crowded. You may pass, and may your gods bless this bargaining.’

The cho-ja moved nimbly aside and allowed the Tsurani party to continue up the trail. Mara was curious about the unexpected expertise of her Force Commander. ‘Keyoke, I didn’t know you understood the cho-ja.’

‘I know their soldiers, as much as any man can. I served with some, many years ago – when your grandfather led many houses in battle against the Easter Confederation.’ If the old campaigner felt his years, he did not show them, ascending the difficult trail with hardly a sign of exertion.

‘The cho-ja seemed to welcome us with good grace.’

‘Mistress, those were old, disciplined soldiers upon the ridge,’ Arakasi cautioned. ‘Keyoke was correct in addressing their officer. But from now until we reach the hive we must be wary. Many young warriors have been hatched to protect the new queen as she travels. These will be undisciplined and aggressive – quick to provoke to violence until the young queen is safely within the earth of her new hive.’