Blood of the Mantis

And here now came the princess: these Bee-kinden had no idea of how to dress, not even their royalty: the dark-featured girl wore only a drab tunic with a black and gold gown open over the top. He insisted she dress in imperial colours on such visits. He knew it rankled with her, but it was important that there be no doubt about whose wishes were counted more important.

But after all, Iam not a tyrant, he reminded himself, and smiled at her. She smiled back, a little stiffly. She had learnt that her smile could be valuable currency, sometimes. He did not believe, of course, that she held any affection for him, but she needed things from him and she knew that she had to play the game to get them. If she kept him in a good mood, then she could ask him to intervene on behalf of her people, to lessen any punishments, lighten workloads, or even have messages passed on to her brother, who was off on Auxillian duty elsewhere in the Empire. She met a lot with her people, he knew, even the lowliest of them. She seemed to visit at random across the city, though dogged always by her imperial guards. Gan knew that such movements were guided by the thoughts of her fellows, for many of the Bee-kinden could speak mind-to-mind, as the Ants did. It was an Art even some Wasps could boast of, although Gan himself had never bothered to master it.

She demurely sat across from him, whereupon a Wasp came forward to pour some watered wine. Gan glanced up at him curiously.

‘Since when do those of my own kinden do such menial work?’ he asked, wanting to add the man’s name and then realizing he could not remember it. ‘When you’re finished here, go and get a local to serve us. I’m sure you must have other matters to attend to.’

The Wasp server hesitated, glancing at Maczech. She was watching him through half-closed eyes, but Gan had the odd feeling she was actually more alert than usual.

‘Well, speak, man. Is there something concerning you?’ he enquired.

‘Yes, Colonel,’ said the servant reluctantly. ‘I understand there is currently some disruption amongst the household servants, so I volunteered to serve you rather than force you to wait until they are put in order.’

‘I approve,’ Gan said and, as the man turned away from the table. ‘Disruption, you say?’

‘Yes, sir.’ The servant turned back and glanced at Maczech again but Gan waved him to continue. ‘Well, sir, they seemed… rather unruly this morning. Suddenly unwilling.’

‘Nonsense,’ Gan snapped, his good humour evaporating. ‘The Princess’s people are the most sweet-natured in the whole Empire. Why, I’ll wager that Colonel Thanred in Capitas does not have a city as well ordered as mine.’

‘Of course, sir,’ the man said, retreating.

‘I will have to review the service arrangements,’ Gan remarked. ‘Perhaps I have an overzealous overseer or some such problem.’ He turned to his guest. ‘Or perhaps you should speak to the staff here at the palace, as you often do to your people throughout the city, Princess.’

‘Perhaps I should,’ she agreed almost casually.

An officer came stepping out onto the balcony, not even pausing to glance at the view but stomping over to the table and saluting sharply.

‘Is this urgent?’ Gan asked him. His morning was being thoroughly spoilt, he decided.

‘Colonel,’ replied the officer, whose insignia proclaimed him a captain. ‘Orders directly from the Emperor.’

Gan froze, goblet halfway to his lips. If there was anything that could ruin his day it was a communication direct from the capital. The Emperor could strip him of everything he now enjoyed with a single word. He took the proffered scroll carefully, as though it might be venomous, and broke the seal. A moment later he glanced up at the captain and asked, ‘What in the wastes is this?’

‘A present from Capitas, sir,’ said the captain, with a hard smile. ‘Five hundred men for your garrison. I came ahead with my staff to prepare billets, because they’ll be marching into Szar any time now, sir.’

‘What am I supposed to do with another five hundred soldiers?’ demanded Gan. ‘Considering all the places in the Empire that surely need reinforcements-’

The captain actually had the gall to cut him off. ‘Not my business, sir. If you’ll excuse me, but I need to prepare lodgings for five hundred men.’

He saluted again, then turned and left without waiting for Gan’s say-so.

‘Someone at the capital has gone quite mad,’ Gan declared. ‘Perhaps they’re having another shot at the Commonweal, and need us as a staging post. Still, since the war pushed the borders further out, we’re a long way from anywhere troublesome.’

Princess Maczech was still looking after the captain thoughtfully.