Blood of the Mantis

The smile lingered, now sadder. ‘Those were the days, weren’t they?’ said the Dragonfly. ‘How little we knew. Except you, of course. I listened to everything you said, and I still wish I’d listened harder.’

‘At least you listened. It took my own people a lot longer.’ Stenwold looked him up and down, this most unlikely of royal petitioners. ‘You’re here on the business of your… surrogate people?’

Salma nodded. ‘My followers, yes. I come to barter like any tradesman. To horse-trade, in fact.’ Seeing Stenwold’s expression he waved a hand dismissively. ‘It’s a Commonweal expression, although more fitting than you’d think. Your own business here is your grand alliance, of course.’

‘Let us hope it’s more than just my business,’ Stenwold said, and at that moment an Ant functionary was at Salma’s elbow. The two old friends clasped hands, and Stenwold said, ‘Good luck,’ before returning to Arianna.

She raised the wrapped bundle questioningly, but he shook his head at her, relieved to be out of here without having to unsheathe it. She kept her questions to herself until they were well clear of the royal palace and pacing back through the well-ordered streets of Sarn proper towards the Foreigners’ Quarter.

‘So I carried this along for nothing then?’ she said eventually.

‘Well,’ he said, ‘We knew they knew that we knew how to make it, so to speak, but the Queen is not going to be derailed from her intentions.’ He grimaced about him at the perfectly grid-patterned streets, at the silent Sarnesh going about their lives without fuss or haste, at soldiers trooping past them carrying material to the walls. ‘I suppose I can’t blame them, given that they were on the receiving end, but they really, fiercely want Totho’s invention. I’m starting to worry about precisely what they’ll do if I don’t willingly give them the plans.’

‘The Assembly opinion seemed to be fairly unified on that point,’ she noted.

‘The Assembly of Collegium, lucky fellows, aren’t here facing the Queen of Sarn.’ He sighed. ‘I know it’s an artificial situation. Old Thadspar wanted to keep it out of the wrong hands, and yet the Wasps already have it. And, anyway, the Sarnesh will capture one eventually, build their own copy, and then they’ll have it too, and they’ll only remember that we didn’t want them to get it. And they want it now. They want to be able to put it to use against the Wasps next spring, and for the short term, of course, that’s the best idea.’

‘And for the long term…’

‘They will turn it against the world, sooner or later. No doubt about that. The temptation to win a few battles over their old enemies will prove too much. This weapon is dangerous enough in Wasp hands, but in Ant hands the possibilities are even worse.’

Now they were securely inside the Foreigners’ Quarter, approaching the elegant Beetle-style two-storey that was the Collegiate embassy. Once inside, past the guards and the functionaries, Stenwold retired to the suite of rooms that had been made available to him.

And there’s the joke because, a month before, Collegium’s

own diplomatic staff wouldn’t have let me in the door. ‘You were right,’ he told Sperra. ‘She’s a tough one.’ The Fly nodded. ‘Rather you than me, chief.’

‘I take it not so good, Sten?’ This came from the last man there, a fleshy creature with pale, bluish skin – an Ant from some western city-state at the fringes of the Lowlands proper. His name was Plius and he was nominally Stenwold’s man here in Sarn. Stenwold had been in the game a long time, cutting his teeth on agent-running in a half-dozen cities, and way back when he had first recruited Plius, Stenwold had taken him for what the world usually saw: an outcast trying to make his difficult way in a hostile city. Now, his customary pipe in his hands, Plius managed a wan smile at Stenwold, who smiled back and nodded.

With his extra years of experience, Stenwold had known as soon as he reacquainted himself with the man. He knew the telltale signs now of a man with divided loyalties. Either he had been blind to it before, or Plius had been turned fairly recently. They were still both playing the game as though it was not so but, somewhere along the line, someone else had put their mark on Plius, and Stenwold knew he could not trust the man any more, only keep him close and wait.

Who is this man? the Queen asked, and this time the silent answers came more hesitantly.

– A nobleman from the northlands. He has been a student at the College.

– Reports suggest he was at Tark during the siege.

– He may be a spy.

– We have heard unconfirmed reports of irregular resistance to the imperial advance being linked to his name.