Salute the Dark

‘Why?’ Balkus demanded, and even as he said it, he felt the stir, a sudden rustle in the mind of Sarn. His erstwhile people kept him out, but their thoughts leaked in nonetheless, and something was happening now. He became aware of soldiers suddenly spurred into action, armoured men and women running.

‘I think we are about to see why,’ Plius explained helpfully.

Ten minutes later saw the three Ants, from three different cities, standing up on the west wall with a grey-haired Sarnesh woman, a genuine tactician of the Royal Court. They were watching the approach of more soldiers. The distance was too great to see in any detail, but there were already Fly-kinden being sent out as scouts to assess their strength and nature. One thing was clear, at any distance: by their regimented order they were Ant-kinden.

‘Six hundred soldiers,’ Plius explained. ‘Soldiers of Tsen.’

‘Where or what is Tsen?’ Parops asked.

‘A city on the western coast of the Lowlands, beyond even Vek,’ the tactician said slowly. ‘Explain yourself,’ she instructed Plius.

‘Easily. I am not, or not only, an agent of Master Maker of Collegium, but also an agent of the Queen of Tsen. Since I came to Sarn, that role has not encumbered me with any actual duties save for my reports, but a month back I received new orders. Specifically, I am appointed their ambassador, if you will have me.’

‘And what does the spy-turned-ambassador have to say to us?’ the tactician demanded sharply. What Plius said to her, he would be saying to the King – and to the whole city if that was deemed wise.

The fat Ant-kinden shrugged. ‘Tsen is a long way off,’ he said. ‘Tsen is small and friendless. If the Wasps destroy your city, then eventually they will come against us, and we will not be able to defend ourselves. There, that’s a frank admission of our position that your own sources can surely confirm.’

The tactician nodded.

‘Well, then, Tsen now sends you these soldiers to assist in the defence of your city. We can spare no more, and we know this gesture will not sway the battle, but we need to do something. We have not been part of your counsels, nor would we make ourselves part of the Lowlands, because we are happy in our distance from the stormy centre. However, we recognize the need.’ He crushed and tugged at the hat in his hands, and it was only this that told them of his nervousness. ‘The need,’ he confirmed, ‘is great.’

* * *

Praeter took quick stock of the situation. Here was his left wing, with solid formations of his heavy infantry making slow progress across the thorny, uncertain terrain, their shields raised. The light airborne were above them, making sallies forward, but then recoiling back. There was no sign of the enemy, just a patch of woodland that extended back along the ridge of the hill and down, but already there was a litter of Wasp bodies between his advancing infantry and the trees.

Damn Malkan for letting them get the new weapon. He tried to estimate how many soldiers could be hidden in those woods, and guessed that if they were crammed full it could even be a full thousand.

The leadshotter spoke from nearby, arcing a solid ball of stone over the infantry to crash into the trees. I need more of those here. But there was no chance that the right-flank artillery could get over here in time and, besides, they might need it themselves. He cropped his beetle, sending it skittering behind the slowly advancing infantry. Too slow. He saw them ducking behind their shields. At this range the snapbow bolts were dancing off them, but his soldiers obviously knew that would not continue to be the case if they got much closer.

‘Signal me the officers of the airborne,’ Praeter ordered, and one of his bodyguard unfurled a red flag and began waving it in great sweeps. ‘And get me some of our own snapmen up here.’ That now proved to have been his first true tactical mistake. He had not sufficiently trusted the new weapon, and so the snapbowmen were bringing up the rear.

The leaders of the airborne were dropping down around him, and he twisted round in his saddle to regard them. He saw Wasp soldiers in armour light enough for flight, equipped with swords, spears and the fire that their Art gave them. These were the mainstay of the Wasp army, but they died, he knew. They died in their hundreds to give the infantry a chance to close. It was their purpose in his plan of attack, however, so he could spare them scant sympathy.