Heirs of the Blade (33 page)

Varmen had not departed, not yet. He and his uncomplaining little pack-beetle were forever on the point of heading off, but somehow each new dawn saw him still hanging around.

Che refused to eat. Thalric had managed to force a little water down her, but surely not enough to keep her alive. Instead, whatever was holding her in this unconscious state seemed to be sustaining her as well. That was yet another thing he could not understand.

‘Suon Ren,’ he murmured. ‘That’s where she was heading.’

‘Principality of Roh. East of here. Canals go to it,’ Varmen explained.

Thalric looked at him almost with annoyance. ‘How do you
know?
Why would
you
know a thing like that?’

‘Been three times in the Commonweal now, since the war. You pick stuff up.’ Varmen shrugged. ‘Besides, I remember when we were marching on Shon Fhor, just before all that trouble back home kicked off and we ended up with that treaty. I was a sergeant, so I got to see the maps sometimes. We were going to surround Shon Fhor and scoop the Monarch out like eating an oyster, and the Fourth were going to press on south of the lake, to Suon Ren, and finish off taking the principality. ’Stead of which, everything fell apart round Maynes way. We lost our supply line, and wiser heads reckoned we’d bitten off enough for now on. Always wondered why we didn’t come back here, instead of all that Lowlands business.’

‘Rise of the Engineers and the merchants,’ Thalric told him.

Varmen raised an eyebrow, baffled.

‘Commonweal pickings were all very well, lots of art, some decent treasure, more slaves than anyone knew what to do with, but the Lowlands is
rich
. They had artifice and knowledge that exceeded our own, industry, real money. Once the Consortium and the Engineering Corps got their way, the Lowlander invasion was inevitable.’

‘Goes to show you shouldn’t be too clever, eh?’ Varmen grunted, seeming much amused, then he pointed suddenly. ‘She moved!’

Thalric was instantly over beside Che again, seeing her eyelids flutter. He spoke her name three times, but only when he tried the full ‘Cheerwell’ did she frown and twitch, and then stare up at him.

‘Thalric?’

‘Che, tell me what’s happening.’ He didn’t like the hint of fear in his own voice, but there was no helping that.

‘Thalric . . . I was in Khanaphes, with
her
—’

‘Che, that doesn’t help me.’

Abruptly she was clinging to him, as though about to be swept away at any moment. ‘Thalric, it’s not over. I can still feel her there. I’m falling back. Thalric, this is magic – you have to believe me. This is old magic, and I’ve got myself into it, and I don’t know what to
do
.’

‘I believe you.’ His words came out without thinking, and it was almost a relief to cast off his responsibility for the situation by admitting such.

‘Suon Ren,’ Che told him urgently. ‘Salma’s father – foster-father – will have a magician at his court. He
must
! You can trust him.’

‘Che, not without you there to make the introductions,’ Thalric replied sharply. ‘What can I say to him? That I’m the man who enslaved his son, and whose people killed him? I won’t be welcome—’

‘He will have to understand,’ she gasped. He could feel her trembling violently, trying to brace herself against him as though a great tide was building up, ready to tear her away. ‘There is no one else. Please . . . I need help, Thalric. Please help me.’

‘Che, this is insane—’

But she cried out, wrapping her arms about him and, despite himself, he
felt
the moment when the invisible wave caught hold of her and ripped her away from him. So that, even though her body remained limp in his grasp, Che was gone again, fallen back into whatever abyss she had briefly clawed her way out of.

He laid her back down, scowling furiously, aware that Varmen was watching him, but not wanting to see the other Wasp’s expression.

‘You’ll be wanting to hop one of the locals’ barges, then,’ was all the man said.

‘They’d take me?’

Varmen shrugged. ‘Can’t hurt to ask. Maybe they’ll try to kill us, or maybe they’ll make us their new kings, who knows?’

‘Us?’ Thalric looked at him then.

The former Sentinel was sitting with one hand draped companionably across the pack-beetle’s back. When he saw Thalric’s scrutiny he shrugged, almost embarrassed. ‘Can’t see you manhandling the poor girl all that way on your own, even if you did hop a barge.’

‘And I thought you wanted me dead, because I was Rekef?’

‘Oh,
you
? Just don’t press your luck, is all I’ll say. She seems decent enough, though.’ Varmen smiled. ‘Wouldn’t have thought I’d find a Rekef man so caught up with one of the
lesser
kinden.’ His grin broadened as Thalric rounded on him, rising to the bait. ‘Don’t take offence at that, Rekef. We all need something to keep us human, right?’

The Masters of Khanaphes regarded Seda stonily.

‘Little Empress,’ said one of the women, ‘we know why you have come. You have been expected.’

‘Really?’ Seda replied. ‘And yet I feel anything but welcome.’

‘Do you think that what you seek here should be
easy
?’ the man asked acidly. ‘We have hoarded our power for a thousand years, so would you resent us taking steps to discourage the unworthy?’

Seda gave a hard smile, gazing up at them amid the leaping, bluish light. ‘Tell me why I am here, then?’

‘You are here to learn,’ the other woman told her.

‘It is creditable.’ The first nodded slowly. ‘You have discovered in yourself the last drop of magic known to your people, but you do not know what to do with it. You have been diligent in seeking enlightenment, until it has led you to us, the first lords and ladies of mankind. You wish to learn from us.’ They spoke softly, the Masters of Khanaphes, but their words created vast echoes that resounded – felt but unheard – about the cavernous spaces of this, their resting place. She was at the heart of it here, now, where all the remnants of ancient power had been hoarded and husbanded. Her body thrilled to it, telling her that she
belonged
here at their feet, as their humblest slave and servant, if only they would consent to let her
know . . .

Seda nodded along with those thoughts. She saw Gjegevey staring at her worriedly, and wondered what it was she had woken him from. What constituted a Woodlouse nightmare?

When he saw that he had caught her eye, the old man shook his head. He must feel the leaden weight of their power and of all the ages they had stored up here. If they extended their hand to him, she mused, then perhaps he would already be kneeling before them in obeisance.

They were leaning on her, perhaps without even intending to, pressuring her into following the path that they had already set out. No doubt they could not even imagine her saying no. Their confidence in her eventual decision was complete.

Was
almost
complete. For, of course,
she
– the other one who had stood here and also been given this choice –
she
had refused.

And I do not kneel. Not even before the Masters of Khanaphes.

‘I think you underestimate the extent of my studies,’ she declared. Seeing their disdainful expressions, she added quickly, ‘Oh, Masters, I cannot pretend to match your many centuries. I can only guess at your long histories that the turning of the ages has overwritten. No doubt, when the world was young, you held the reins of power and the other kinden clustered around your feet like children. Perhaps, after that, you idled on your thrones while young races, those that we now think of as ancient and occult, squabbled for the scraps from your tables. Certainly I cannot guess how many centuries have passed since you last truly stirred yourselves or exercised your power. Until the Scorpions came to lay waste your city, that is, and you were forced to it. And which hand set those barbarians at your gates, if not my Empire’s? Who could have then guessed what Brugan’s foolishness would unearth?’

Her own words did not raise the same great, soundless echoes that theirs did. They raised only sharp, real echoes, that whiplashed across the faces of the Masters, for nobody had ever addressed to them in such a manner since the dawn of time.

‘I am not here to
learn
,’ she explained, speaking into the ringing silence. ‘I am not here to sit at your feet and be satisfied with whatever pittance you grant me. I am the Empress of the Wasps, and I am no mere
subject
, not even for the first lords and ladies of mankind. You know what I am here for.’

There were more of them appearing now, their huge figures striding towards her between the pillars. They eyed her impassively, arrogantly, but she stared them down.
And do I detect the faintest quiver of doubt
?

Then one of the men sighed heavily and said, ‘We are sorry that you have come such a way only for this. To stand before the Masters of Khanaphes and dare to make
demands
is only foolishness.’ He did not sound angry, though, just disappointed. Even so, she felt a surge of their power building up, inexorable as an earthquake, readying itself to blot her out so utterly that the world would not even remember her name.

‘Such promise,’ one of the women murmured. ‘She could have learned so much of our histories, such as no savage has ever known, and now this . . . Such a waste . . .’

‘Majesty.’ Gjegevey’s voice quavered, and Seda realized that he was terrified almost out of his mind. Had he been here alone, he would have thrown himself before the Masters and begged for mercy, but she gave him strength and for her sake, for loyalty’s sake, he clung to his staff and held his ground.

Several of the Masters were already turning away, not even interested enough to witness her being destroyed. The looming tidal wave of their power – a slightest handful of all they had saved up here, and yet still so much, such a vast fist to crush such small flies – was cresting all around them.

‘You have your grand histories,’ Seda conceded, betraying nothing but cool arrogance in her voice and stance. ‘But I have an Empire.’

She could sense their amusement at such a proclamation, and it bought her a little more time – time to educate those who had thought she had come to serve them.

‘At the lightest gesture of my army, half your city was razed. It would take a fraction of the soldiers now under my command to obliterate it from the face of the world. If I do not return safely to them, then that is exactly what I will do. More, they will bring in machines and Mole Cricket-kinden and they will dig. They shall tear apart the earth itself, until they uncover these halls, and then the sun shall become your only ceiling, and for all your power, and however many of my subjects you slay or drive mad, they shall take you eventually, and lead you through the streets of Capitas in chains. And so your histories, all of your histories, shall come to an end. I shall tear up every stone that bears your name or your likeness, and then I shall salt the earth itself so that your power may never revive.’

She sensed the massive hammer of their will poised in delicate balance above her.

‘You cannot think—’ one of them began, but Seda did not let him finish.

‘If you harm me, then this shall come to pass. It shall come to pass even if you simply deny me. I am the Empress of the Wasps, and I am the inheritor of the ancient powers, by blood and by shadow, and there is only one thing I require from you. Grant that one thing, and I shall leave you to your darkness and your stone.’

This was the fulcrum moment on which the future hinged, with their power poised right above her, an invisible, irresistible weight that could crush her mind, send her stark mad, and none of her tricks of magic or statesmanship could withstand it.
But we are Wasps, and we do not beg. I shall have this on my terms or not at all, for there is no other path fit for an Empress.

Gjegevey stood very close, almost clinging to her arm, his face sheened with sweat in this unwholesome blue light. She radiated strength, though. Even if, at her greatest, she seemed a mere gnat in the face of their might, she stood straight and defied them, and held firm to her demands.

Had it not been for that other woman, had it not been for those stolen dreams that had visited Seda so long ago, so far away – those dreams of the same echoing halls, the lamps, the solemn faces of the Masters – then she would have sucumbed. True, had it not been for those dreams she would never have come at all, but in that moment of crisis, facing the vast depths of the Masters’ strength, she still held to that one scrap of knowledge.
They were defeated before, out-thought, tricked from their prey. The Beetle girl escaped them. Well, I shall go one better.

‘See my Empire,’ she told them, and then filled her own mind with it, all of its artifice and energy, its rapacious hunger, its unending hordes of soldiers, its fierce youthful fire. She summoned up all her own confidence, her belief in her people and in herself, and her unbridled and all-consuming
need
to control: to control herself, control her people, control the ancient powers, control the world. She did not know it, but she was grinning at them like a monster. She smiled like a tyrant and, just as their ancient power had weighed on her with its demands of
Worship us!
so she turned her mind on them with all the force of her Imperial will:
Submit to me!

The air was full of soundless fury, of invisible fire, so that Gjegevey flinched from every moment of it. But in the physical world a great silence had fallen, and Seda’s grin simply widened, and the Masters were suddenly uncertain. The world of the
new
and the
vital
was brought here before them, incomprehensible and threatening.

And, at the very last, an answer: ‘What is it that you want, then?’ said one of the women. ‘Name it.’

‘Validation,’ Seda told them. ‘Confirmation. You, with your great legacy, must accept me as your heir in the modern world. Just a nod, Masters – just the smallest nod. All of us here know how power is defined by such symbols.’ She caught a glimpse of Gjegevey’s face, and he was wide-eyed in horror, but she had come too far now to turn aside. ‘Pass on to me the mantle,’ she insisted.