The Complete Empire Trilogy. Janny Wurts
The old Queen and the young engaged in discussion. The cho-ja language of clicks and whistles seemed more efficient than human words; or else the aliens exchanged information in ways that supplemented language. Mara waited, inwardly nervous.
Suddenly a strident whistle echoed through the hive’s great chamber. Mara’s retinue stiffened in alarm, and the old Queen’s conversation with her daughter ceased abruptly. Fearful the disturbance might herald alarm, Keyoke gripped his sword hilt.
But Arakasi seized the Force Commander’s upper arm and whispered urgently, ‘Pull steel this close to two queens and we all die instantly.’ The older Queen showed no sign of alarm, but the males near her had all risen to a half crouch, a battle posture that readied them to explode into a charge. Half-raised forearms quivered slightly as razor-sharp chitin ridges were angled towards Keyoke. The old Force Commander had seen cho-ja at war; these were a hairsbreadth away from attack. He released his sword and at once the warriors before the old Queen subsided into their squatting position. The old Queen made no comment. Arakasi released a pent-up breath and offered slight reassurance. ‘Should danger arise, those warriors will protect us as well as their Queen.’ Keyoke nodded at the logic of this, but he still stepped closer to his Lady.
On the dais, the old Queen clicked and twitched a forelimb; and in response to her command, Lax’l rose from his place at her feet and scuttled off.
Watching him, Mara wondered whether she could ever adjust to the speed at which the cho-ja moved at need. As messengers, they would be unparalleled, and that prompted remembrance of a childhood rhyme recited by Nacoya that ended ‘… the cho-ja are the first with news and early-season fruit.’ Phrased as nonsense, and treated by humans as entertainment for youngsters, Mara pondered now whether the jingle held some element of truth.
Lax’l returned before she could pursue the idea with inquiry. He exchanged rapid whistles and clicks with his matriarch; and the old Queen’s next words banished all musings upon nursery tales from Mara’s thoughts.
‘Lady Queen of the Acoma,’ the ruling cho-ja said, ‘word arrives that a Lord of your kind has travelled to the hive to bargain against you for the new Queen’s favour.’
Mara stiffened.
Dismay, disappointment, and anger welled up within her all at once; then fear prevailed over all else. Somehow, someone had relayed word of the cho-ja Queen’s hatching.
If the news had spread indiscriminately across the countryside, more than one family might be travelling to the hive in the hill. The one waiting above would be only the first of many. Yet this boded ill even if the news had not been widely dispersed, for then the Lord of the Inrodaka might have invited some special friend to be first to seek the new Queen’s hive. He would most certainly not be pleased to discover trespassers upon his land to steal a march upon his ally. With or without the young Queen’s approval, Mara now faced returning across the lands of a hostile Lord aware of her presence. Even more frightening, some agent of the Minwanabi might have learned of Mara’s errand and sent an informant back to his master. Perhaps Jingu himself waited above to communicate with the young Queen.
Careful to hide her distress from the Queens, Mara took a deep breath. Her throat felt as dry as sand, even as she reminded herself of a teaching mother’s lesson: ‘Fear is the little death, daughter. It kills in tiny pieces.’
With the appearance of calm, Mara looked to the old Queen. ‘Honoured ruler,’ she said, ‘be advised that I am most determined to win the loyalty of this new hive. Acoma lands are rich and wide, and another Lord of the Empire is unlikely to better the terms I can offer.’
On the dais, the old Queen huffed through her nose slits, the cho-ja equivalent of laughter. ‘Loyalty? Lady Ruler of the Acoma, that is a concept not shared by my kind. Workers, warriors, rirari, all do as is their nature, for without the hive there is nothing. A queen is the sole arbiter of a hive, and we make our trade contracts for the best terms we may. Always we serve the highest bidder.’
Mara sat speechless at this revelation. By chance the Queen had disclosed a thing no Tsurani in the Empire had guessed. Tsurani society had always believed the cho-ja were above certain human failings. Now what was believed to be an unassailable sense of honour was revealed as the crassest sort of service-mongering. These cho-ja were nothing more than a race of merchants. Their legendary loyalty was open to sale to the highest bidder, and perhaps subject to renegotiation should the cho-ja receive a better offer from a rival Lord. One of the underpinnings of the Empire’s power structure was far more vulnerable than anyone knew, for never before had anyone thought to test cho-ja loyalty by contacting the hive upon another Lord’s lands. Through her dismay, Mara saw advantage: so long as no other ruler in the Empire guessed the truth, she might use such knowledge for her own gain – provided she survived the next hour.
‘Keyoke.’ Mara leaned across her cushions and motioned the Force Commander closer. ‘These warriors who came with us must be sworn to absolute silence.’ With her face kept carefully blank, she added, ‘The slaves must not be permitted to reveal what we have just heard.’ Nothing more would be said, but the old warrior knew she had just pronounced death sentence upon eight men. He in turn whispered something to Arakasi and, his expression unreadable, the Spy Master nodded once, indicating he affirmed the decision.
Mara straightened. To the old Queen she said, ‘Then we shall bargain.’
Excited by the prospect, the old Queen trilled her pleasure. ‘I shall inform the other human Lord that he has a competing offer.’
The Queen then issued commands to waiting cho-ja workers. These were of the smaller, more intelligent artisan class. Mara waited with the appearance of patience as they scuttled away. Other workers entered the chamber, clearly establishing a relay of messengers, since the newly arrived Lord preferred to negotiate from the surface, in the traditional Tsurani manner. Mara resolved to extract what advantage she could from that circumstance.
The first message arrived from above, and after clicking communication with the courier and the young Queen, the hive matriarch inclined her head towards Mara. ‘Your rival Lord also possesses fine meadowlands that are dry year round, near to good water, and free of tree roots. He says as well that his soil is sandy and easy to tunnel.’ She paused and conferred with her daughter Queen, then added, ‘Lady of the Acoma, my hatchling wishes to know if you care to improve your offer.’
Mara resisted an impulse to twist her fingers in the fringes of her cushion. ‘Kindly relate to your daughter that sandy soil may be easy to dig, but it also leaches water and tends to collapse easily.’
Enjoying herself, the old Queen responded with her odd laugh. ‘We know, Lady of the Acoma. We find it entertaining that a human would presume to know more of tunnelling than a cho-ja. Still, sandy soil presents no difficult problem for us.’
Mara thought quickly. ‘You are the finest miners in the world, yet I will provide slaves to help with the digging so that your daughter’s wait upon the surface is short. One hundred of my warriors will safeguard the site, and my own pavilion will shade her from the sun until her chambers are ready underground.’ Mara swallowed hard. ‘In addition, each day she remains above ground she shall have twenty baskets of fruits and thyza harvested from my fields, that her workers may remain full of industry with no need to forage.’
The old Queen clicked her translation and the young Queen replied. A moment later a messenger scuttled up the passage towards the surface. Perspiring lightly in the spicy warmth, Mara managed not to fidget. Negotiations might proceed very slowly, she thought, but the messenger returned unexpectedly fast.
When the new terms had been related to her daughter, the old Queen translated for Mara. ‘Should any tunnels collapse, your rival says he offers a suite of rooms in his estate house to the Queen and her chosen attendants, until her own quarters may be rebuilt.’
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