Salute the Dark

Balkus looked out again, recognizing Beetle-kinden, Flies, many others. ‘Everywhere that lies east of here, I’d guess,’ the big Ant decided, the thought of such displacement settling on him heavily. ‘Where are they supposed to go when the Wasps get here?’

The train rolled on, seemingly heedless, passing inside the city walls and coasting to a slow halt at the Sarnesh rail depot. Balkus stood up, feeling a hollowness inside, a gap into which the idle thoughts of his kin everywhere around were already leaking. It all looked so painfully familiar to him: the gas lamps glowing throughout the squat, square buildings of Sarn proper, whilst on the other side of the train gleamed the disparate lights and lanterns and torches of the Foreigners’ Quarter. There were soldiers everywhere: he saw them up on the walls, installing new artillery, or waiting by the train to load and unload, or just marching and drilling, making ready.

‘The last time I saw so many Ant-kinden under arms,’ he said, ‘they were trying to kill me.’

‘You realize everyone expects you to do the talking, I hope,’ Parops said.

‘Why me?’ Balkus stared at him. ‘No, anyone but me.’

‘Your fellow commanders are all Beetle-kinden,’ the Tarkesh pointed out, ‘which in their eyes makes you the logical choice, because you at least can overhear what the Sarnesh are saying to one another.’

‘It’s been a long time,’ Balkus replied slowly. He could indeed feel the hum and buzz of Ant-kinden conversation from outside the train. He had been actively fighting to blot it out. It had been such a very long time. But we now need to know if my former countrymen will deal honestly with us.

‘Pox,’ he spat, ‘you’re right.’

‘Don’t worry,’ Parops reassured him. ‘As the leader of Free Tark, I’ll be right there beside you. They’ll love that.’

* * *

It should have been a bleak and blustery day suitable for their departure, but the mocking sun was bright in a cloudless sky, beating down on the Collegium airfield as if a summer day had been imported early.

Stenwold had spent the last two days arguing bitterly with – it seemed – almost everyone. Lineo Thadspar had done everything in his power to persuade Stenwold not to go at all. Stenwold had done everything he could to persuade Tynisa to go with him, instead of just casting herself into the void by going in search of her father.

‘Tisamon can look after himself,’ he had insisted.

‘Tisamon will go looking for a fight,’ she had told him. ‘And if that one doesn’t kill him, he’ll go looking for another, just like he did after Myna. Oh, he’s good at it – I have never seen anyone fight as well as Tisamon – but that doesn’t mean he’s immortal. I need to find him before he goes into one fight too far.’

And she had been right, of course, and Tisamon himself was not so young any more. We none of us are.

Amidst a scatter of larger airships, the Buoyant Maiden seemed makeshift and dowdy. Jons Allanbridge had been more than happy to renew his contract with Stenwold and, based on Tynisa’s recommendation, Stenwold had been more than happy to offer it. Destrachis had been right, they would need to travel by air, and Allanbridge seemed to be a good man for slipping something as large as an airship into places with a minimum of fuss.

The Spider himself was already at the rail of the gondola, gazing back at Collegium without expression. The Lowlands were full of odd homeless types, hiring out their skills wherever the road took them. Tisamon has rejoined that brotherhood now. Destrachis, too, was on that path, but Stenwold wondered whether he secretly hoped the Commonweal would take him back.

Standing at the Spider’s shoulder was the cloaked form of Felise Mienn. She had said nothing yet to Stenwold, who did not know what to say to her. The bulk of her shrouded form showed that she wore her armour again. He guessed it provided a protection that was more than the mere physical. She would be a difficult travelling companion, he thought.

‘Are we ready for the off?’ Arianna asked, at his elbow.

He gave her a weak smile. ‘Not you,’ he said.

She stared at him. ‘Sten-’

‘I have done my thinking. I would have argued it out with you before, save that everyone else has claimed my time in other arguments. Not you this time, Arianna.’

Her look was pure hurt. ‘After all we’ve done, you don’t trust me?’

‘No! Hammer and tongs, no! Of course I trust you, Arianna, and I love you. You have brought to me… such joy as no man in my place deserves.’ He gripped her by the arms. ‘And it could have been you, you must have known, that the cursed Sarnesh had stretched out on their rack. You instead of poor Sperra. No, Arianna, you stay here.’

‘Oh, Che’s already told me how much you like to keep people safe-’

‘Well, this time I’m bloody well going to succeed at it,’ he said.