The Complete Empire Trilogy

by Raymond E. Feist

  Stopping before Mara, Keyoke bowed. ‘Mistress, the men are ready. Your bearers stand with the supplies, and the trailbreakers are already on their way. We may depart at your word.’

  Mara dismissed Jican with a wish for prosperity and fair trading. Then she entered her litter and reclined upon the cushions. ‘Tell the men to march,’ she ordered.

  As the half-naked bearers bent to shoulder her weight, she knew the swift thrill of fear. This was no formal state visit to another Lord but a bold move to steal an advantage on every other player in the Game of the Council; that boldness carried risks. As the party swung around a small hillock, Mara watched her estate house fall behind. She wondered if she would return to see it again.

  Guided by Arakasi, the Acoma retinue hurried secretly along back-country trails. Each day Mara observed growing signs of strain in the soldiers’ behaviour. Tsurani soldiers would never lose discipline in the presence of their Ruling Lord or Lady, but on previous marches she had listened to quiet conversation, banter and jokes about campfires. Now the men kept silence, broken only at need and then in whispers. Their usually animated faces were now set in the expressionless masks of Tsurani warriors.

  On the third day they waited in hiding until nightfall, then moved out in darkness, munching thyza bread and needra jerky as they hurried to avoid detection. The next daybreak they marched deep into the territory of a neighbouring lord, several times coming close to patrols of soldiers from the estate. Keyoke kept his men close by and avoided all contact. Even a minor lord might seize the chance to strike at trespassers if he thought his men could obliterate Mara and her fifty guards. If any other Lord knew of the queen-spawning, there was not just a chance of attack along the way, but certainty.

  Mara rode in a state of fatigue, unable to rest, not only because of the constant travelling and fear, but from the thrill of anticipation as well. Gaining this new hive would do more to preserve Acoma survival than any dozen clever plots in the High Council.

  Four more days passed, in exhausting succession. The company snatched sleep at odd hours, for nights were spent avoiding patrols, or wading through exposed expanses of meadow or thyza paddies along the banks of the many tributaries to the river Gagajin. At such times slaves brought up the rear, setting the disturbed seedlings straight to hide all traces of their passage. At dawn on the ninth day, Mara sat upon bare earth like a soldier and ate cheese and journey biscuit. She called Keyoke and Arakasi to come sit with her.

  Both declined to share her food, as they had eaten the same cold rations earlier. She studied their faces, one lined, leathery, familiar, and as constant as the sunrise, and the other seeming little more than an illusion, a mask to fit whatever persona the moment required. ‘We have crossed three estates, each one of them well guarded. Yet no patrol has sounded the alarm. Am I to believe in the extraordinary skills of my guide and my Force Commander, or is it always this easy for armed soldiers to invade the estates of the Empire?’

  ‘A pertinent question, mistress.’ Arakasi regarded her with what seemed the beginning of respect. ‘One does not need a network of spies to know Keyoke is accounted a superior officer. His experience is respected throughout the Empire.’

  Keyoke inclined his head towards the Spy Master at the compliment. ‘We could not have managed so well without the guidance Arakasi has given us. His knowledge of the back country is impressive, a thing the Acoma will value in times to come.’

  Mara acknowledged this tacit acceptance of Arakasi. The Spy Master sat with the keen expression of a soldier, an attitude that now seemed his natural manner. The man’s ability to appear what he wished slightly unnerved Mara. ‘Tell me honestly,’ she said, ‘would you find it this easy to lead an armed company across the lands of the Acoma?’

  Arakasi laughed, an unexpected sound in a humourless camp. ‘Mistress, assuredly not. Keyoke is widely admired for his knowledge of warcraft. He knows the dangers of regularly scheduled, unvarying patrols. He is prudent, and cunning, even when his command is small.’ With a look of respect at the Force Commander, he added, ‘Especially when his command is small. It is difficult for one man to trespass upon Acoma lands, let alone a force in strength.’

  Keyoke seized upon a discrepancy. ‘You said “difficult”, not “impossible”.’

  Araksi inclined his head in agreement. ‘True.’

  Mara said, ‘Lujan’s grey warriors seemed to take our needra with small difficulty.’

  Arakasi couldn’t avoid a grin. ‘Again true, but he had an advantage: I told him when and where to strike.’

  Keyoke became dangerously still. ‘It seems we have something to discuss.’ He gestured, indicating his desire to withdraw. ‘My Lady?’

  Mara withheld her consent. ‘Is there any estate in the Empire so well guarded that no stranger or outlaw could slip through?’

  ‘Only one,’ said Arakasi, apparently unconcerned with Keyoke’s ire. ‘The estate of the Lord of the Dachindo, far to the east.’

  Mara smiled, as if she had won a small victory. ‘Now indeed, Keyoke, you and Arakasi have something to discuss.’ She watched as the two men rose and moved apart, conferring quietly, heads close together in the misty grey dawn. As much as Keyoke might take umbrage at the implied shortcomings in his defence of the estate, Mara knew wisdom would prevail. He would relish any information the Spy Master could offer to better his protection of his mistress. Confident that by the time of her wedding the Dachindo would no longer be the only estate impenetrable to trespassers, she sent a slave for her comb. In the last minutes before the company started off down the trail, she applied herself to the ongoing frustration of trying to work the knots from her long hair without benefit of a maid.

  The day grew hot. The soldiers marched uncomplaining, through a gradually changing landscape. The lowland plains with their patchwork of paddies and meadows gave way to forested hills crowned with rocks. The trees became old and wild, veiled in flowering vines and thorn. Yet the more difficult the terrain, the more the spirits of the men rose. They had made good time, and as sunlight fell slanting across the trail, the travellers reached the far border of the Inrodaka estates. Arakasi asked for a halt. While the soldiers changed from field armour to lacquered and polished dress armour, he said, ‘We must leave this trail and cut across this ridge to another over there.’ He waved at a notch in the woodlands, barely more than a path, that led upward into denser forest.

  Keyoke paused in his changing, his plumed helm half unpacked. ‘I thought cho-ja built hives in meadows or valleys.’

  Arakasi wiped sweat from his forehead. The light was fading quickly and he seemed concerned that they reach their destination before nightfall. ‘Mostly that’s true; at least, I’ve never heard of a hive that’s not situated in the open.’ He pointed up the trail. ‘Further on, the woods thin. There’s a meadowed valley about a thousand feet higher up. That’s the place we seek.’

  Mara overheard. ‘So this old hive is not on Inrodaka lands?’

  ‘No, but there is some sort of treaty nevertheless.’ Arakasi gestured to the north, where the forest grew wild and thick. ‘These lands were once part of a larger estate, who knows how many years ago. When that Lord, whoever he was, fell, his holdings were divided among the conquerors, the Inrodaka among them. This area was left unclaimed. It’s not very good land. The timber’s rich, but too difficult to log out, and there are only two or three meadows for herds, all without trails to lowland pastures. Still, the cho-ja accept the Inrodaka as their landlords without making an issue of it. Who knows how they think.’ Directing the lead soldiers up the trail, he said, ‘From here we must be cautious but restrained. We may be challenged by cho-ja soldiers. We must not fight. With a new queen in the hive, even the seasoned warriors will be very tense and aggressive. They may feint attack, so let no man draw sword, else we’ll all be slaughtered.’

  Mara consulted Keyoke, then approved the Spy Master’s order. Arrayed in brilliant Acoma green, they began their climb. The trail cut sharply up
ward, angling between jagged outcrops of rock. Travel by litter became impossible, and even on foot Keyoke had to help Mara with the more difficult ascents. These were no switchback trails cut for humans, but paths fit only for kumi, the six-legged mountain goat of Kelewan; and for the agile cho-ja. The bearers fared worst of all, sweating and grunting under their loads, while others hauled the empty litter along by main force.

  The sun shone hot on the backs of the soldiers. Strange mountain birds took flight from the trees at their approach, and thickets teemed with game. Fascinated by sights utterly new and strange, Mara never thought to complain of sore feet.

  Just after midday, a shout arose from the lead patrol. Keyoke caught Mara’s arm and hurried her to the head of the trail, where a dozen cho-ja soldiers stood with spears across their upper torsos, at the ready but not menacing. Shiny black, with six jointed limbs and bodies segmented like those of insects, they all looked identical to Mara, as if struck from the mould of a guild craftsman. She regarded the aliens and felt utterly at a loss.

  ‘These are old hive warriors,’ Keyoke observed. ‘They will not attack us unless we give them cause.’

  Keyoke’s words helped steady her. She waited, tense as her escort, while her Force Commander advanced and saluted, his upraised arm bent at the elbow, palm forward. ‘Honour to your hive.’

  The nearest cho-ja spoke in a surprisingly intelligible voice. ‘Honour to your house, men of the Acoma. Who speaks? The hive must be informed of your presence.’

  ‘I am Keyoke, Force Commander of the Acoma.’

  The lead cho-ja returned the salute. As he moved, Mara saw how his body was segmented, a larger rear thorax with four three-jointed legs and a smaller upper thorax, roughly comparable to a man’s torso, with two almost human arms. His flesh was encased in chitin, and each forearm possessed a natural ridge that appeared as sharp as a sword edge. Upon his head he wore a helm of obvious Tsurani manufacture. The face within was oval, with large multifaceted eyes above two slits where a nose should be. The cho-ja’s jaw and mouth were surprisingly human in appearance, though his voice was singsong and high-pitched. ‘I am Ixal’t, Force Leader of the Second Command of hive Kait’lk.’

  ‘Now I remember.’ Keyoke relaxed fractionally, as if in the presence of an old acquaintance. ‘You served during the invasion of the Thuril Highlands.’ That explained how this cho-ja recognized Acoma colours. He motioned Mara to his side. ‘This is our Lady of the Acoma. She has come to negotiate with your new queen.’

  Eyes like faceted metal flickered briefly over the girl at Keyoke’s side. Then the cho-ja executed a fair imitation of a human bow. ‘Welcome, Lady. Your arrival is timely. The new warriors are restless. This hatching is abundant and we are crowded. You may pass, and may your gods bless this bargaining.’

  The cho-ja moved nimbly aside and allowed the Tsurani party to continue up the trail. Mara was curious about the unexpected expertise of her Force Commander. ‘Keyoke, I didn’t know you understood the cho-ja.’

  ‘I know their soldiers, as much as any man can. I served with some, many years ago – when your grandfather led many houses in battle against the Easter Confederation.’ If the old campaigner felt his years, he did not show them, ascending the difficult trail with hardly a sign of exertion.

  ‘The cho-ja seemed to welcome us with good grace.’

  ‘Mistress, those were old, disciplined soldiers upon the ridge,’ Arakasi cautioned. ‘Keyoke was correct in addressing their officer. But from now until we reach the hive we must be wary. Many young warriors have been hatched to protect the new queen as she travels. These will be undisciplined and aggressive – quick to provoke to violence until the young queen is safely within the earth of her new hive.’

  Keyoke cleared a thorn branch from the path. ‘You speak as one who knows the cho-ja, Arakasi,’ he said.

  The Spy Master avoided the branch as it swung. ‘No man knows the cho-ja. But I once hid from Minwanabi assassins for a week in a cho-ja hive. I learned something of them. It is my nature to ask many questions about things I do not understand when the opportunity presents itself.’

  Mara was intrigued. Even when the ground became suitable for travel by litter once again, she remained afoot. ‘Tell me of the cho-ja, then, Arakasi. What are they like?’

  ‘The older ones are as ordered as the seasons, Lady. The young are unpredictable. They are hatched in a crèche. A dozen lesser females, called rirari, do nothing but lay eggs.’ The term was archaic Tsurani, meaning a second-level queen, or duchess. ‘But the eggs are infertile. The queen swallows them whole and passes them through a chamber in her body which fertilizes them, and more.’

  ‘More?’ asked Mara.

  ‘By some cho-ja means, as the queen is being serviced by a breeding male, she determines the sex and function of each egg, or leaves it sterile. At least, this is what I have been told.’

  ‘They can choose these things?’ wondered Mara. ‘Tell me more.’

  ‘Male cho-ja are roughly divided into three groups: the breeders, the workers and the soldiers. The workers are either clever or strong, artisans or beasts of burden, depending on what the hive needs. The soldiers are both strong and clever. The breeders are stupid, but they have only one task, to mate with the queen.’

  Arakasi glanced aside and saw that Mara still listened raptly. A few of the nearest soldiers paid heed to the Spy Master as well. ‘Once the queen takes residence in the royal chamber, she never moves. Workers constantly feed her, while she is passed eggs by the rirari and serviced by the breeding males. Each one mates with her for hours at a time, until near exhaustion, when he is replaced by another. You will see when we are presented to the old queen.’

  ‘Fascinating.’ Mara paused, a little breathless, for the trail had grown steep once again. ‘What of the young?’

  ‘There is much I do not know of the females,’ Arakasi admitted. ‘But as immature cho-ja, all males are free to play and grow, much like human children – except that one day these young cho-ja are sporting about like needra calves and the next they awake, knowing their time to serve has begun. Only when a new queen is born are the soldiers hatched and hastened to maturity. This makes for an aggressive, unpredictable warrior, I’m afraid. They are quick to anger, and only the new queen can command them to instant obedience.’

  Arakasi fell silent, for the trail crested a small rise, to cut sharply downwards into a valley tucked like a fold between hills. Through the arched boughs of a matched pair of ulo trees, they saw a sun-warmed meadow. The grass grew emerald, too meticulously clipped to be natural.

  Arakasi pointed. ‘The hive lies ahead, beyond those trees.’

  Keyoke commanded the soldiers to smarten up their columns. The company started forward in battle-ready array, with their Lady protected in their midst.

  As her escort reached the edge of the ulo trees, Mara’s heart quickened with excitement. Through the raised shafts of the warriors’ spears she glimpsed the far end of the meadow, where a vast mound rose, ancient in that small trees had taken root and flourished upon it. An entrance was visible on one side, arches shored up with delicately carved stonework. On the beaten path that led inward, hundreds of cho-ja hurried to and from the hive, upon what errands only they knew.

  Mara paused and commanded slaves to bring her litter. She might have been too excited to ride upon the ridge, but she would meet the cho-ja queens as Lady of a great house. As the bearers shouldered the litter poles once more, Keyoke and Arakasi marched at her side. Then all stood at readiness. One of the soldiers raised a battle horn to his lips and blew an announcement call. Then the Force Commander of the Acoma ordered Mara’s escort to step briskly from the shadow of the woods into sunlight.

  Nothing changed at first. The cho-ja workers hustled about their tasks much as before, until the humans reached the valley floor. Then suddenly a dozen figures emerged from behind the right side of the hive. They raced forward like a herd of needra panicked by lightning, feet pounding upon the s
od. ‘Warriors,’ Arakasi said. ‘Hold the men steady: this rush is probably a feint.’ Sweating slightly under his armour, Keyoke signalled the men. None readied weapons, though many might have questioned the prudence of the order, for the cho-ja bore down at a furious gallop. Closer they came, until the Acoma soldiers could see the sunlight gleam on the razor-sharp edges of their forearms. Then, when they were close enough to strike, the cho-ja veered off at the last second. With a sound like human laughter they ran off towards the hive.

  Mara watched them go with a shuddering sigh of relief. ‘They are so swift. How did we ever manage to subdue them?’

  Arakasi wiped his brow and returned an indulgent smile. ‘We never did, Lady. Humans settled land the cho-ja never wanted, until the queens found their hives surrounded. By then it was easier for both sides to make treaties than to fight. It takes skilled soldiers to face a force of cho-ja and survive. When aroused, they are efficient killers.’

  As the retinue continued steadily towards the mound, more and more cho-ja appeared. Soon hundreds passed on every side, some with baskets strapped to their thoraxes, others wearing belts slung with tools. Aroused to curiosity by such industry, Mara peered through the curtain of her litter. ‘Arakasi, is this hive of normal size?’

  ‘A little larger than most, mistress, but not remarkably so.’

  ‘How many cho-ja live within?’

  Without hesitation, Arakasi replied, ‘Twenty, twenty-five thousand.’

  Mara was stunned. Before her lay a city in the wilderness. ‘How many will travel with the new queen?’

  ‘I don’t know. In the past, I think the hives would split when population pressure became too much.’ Arakasi shrugged. ‘Now there is little apparent logic in the decision to birth a new queen. For, despite their breeding continuously, the cho-ja control the hive’s numbers. Perhaps the old queen must reproduce herself each generation. Perhaps it is chance that brings a new queen. I do not know.’