The old Queen interpreted and the new Queen trilled, seemingly in pleasure. Mara went on, ‘We come seeking a treaty. We would welcome this new Queen and her followers to build a hive on our land. We would like to begin negotiations as soon as possible.’
The old Queen answered, ‘I do not understand. The negotiations have begun.’
Mara felt a stab of concern. The finality of the event came too suddenly for her to cope, for she had banked upon the counsel of Arakasi. She strove politely to buy time. ‘I am weary from days of travel. Might I have leave to rest a day before we speak of these matters?’
The old Queen repeated the request and followed with the young Queen’s answer. ‘My daughter Queen says she will hear what you bid, now.’
Mara looked at Arakasi, who whispered, ‘If you leave, you may offend her and lose any chance to speak to her again.’
Suddenly Mara felt worn. The excitement of reaching the hive had buoyed her for the last hour, but now she felt ready to collapse. The stress of dealing with the young Queen combined with the killing pace of the last week made her mind seem fog-clouded. Still, there seemed no choice but to go on. Mara signalled for a cushion from her litter to be placed upon the floor. She seated herself as formally as she could manage and opened negotiations. ‘What would your daughter wish to come live upon Acoma lands?’
The young Queen crouched cho-ja fashion, by lowering her four legs in a squat while maintaining an erect upper torso, arms crossed in very human fashion. She fixed large eyes upon Mara and spoke. The old Queen translated. ‘My daughter wishes to know if the earth of your estates is wet or dry.’
Mara answered without hesitation. ‘Both. The Acoma lands are wide and rich, from water-flooded thyza paddies to high forests. We have meadowlands which rise up into hills not unlike those that surround this hive.’
The young Queen listened to her mother’s interpretation, then responded. ‘My daughter Queen would settle her following near clean water, but not where the ground is too wet. She asks also that the place be away from the forest, as the old root systems make digging the upper tunnels difficult. The first chamber must be dug quickly, for she would not risk staying above ground any longer than necessary.’
Mara conferred with Keyoke. ‘We could give her the lower needra meadow to the west of the river. Slaves can then clear new land for the herd to the east.’ When the Force Commander nodded agreement, Mara said, ‘Tell your daughter that we offer a low hill of land, surrounded by open meadow, within a short march to fresh, clear water. But the land is located above the higher of the two banks of the river and stays dry, even during the heavy rains.’
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.’
• Chapter Six •
Ceremony
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, indicatin
g 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.’
Something in the Queen’s voice lent Mara an insight. Despite her fluent Tsurani, the Queen was an alien being with alien needs. Few common values overlapped; by repeating the rival offer, the cho-ja ruler might not be indicating her preference but instead inciting the human rulers to bid each other up as high as possible. Mara strove to be as shrewd as possible. ‘That is silly. What reason would your daughter have to wish to reside in a Tsurani house? My pavilion would be more comfortable.’
The old Queen answered without hesitation. ‘This is true. But he also offers a hundredweight in jade and an equal weight in fine metal to endow my daughter’s craft workers.’
Mara shivered slightly under her thin robes. The items just named amounted to a fortune. Her rival above was most determined, to raise his stakes so high this soon. Cleverness alone would not suffice, and Mara imagined Jican wringing his hands as she debated the wealth the Acoma would pledge as a counter-offer.
Mara’s voice was unsteady as she spoke. ‘Honourable Queen, tell your daughter that Tsurani estate houses are suitable to workers and soldiers only, not queens. Far better, tunnels that never collapse. Say also that metals and jade are useless without tools to work them; so then, what would the cho-ja wish: gems and metals which they can find more easily than any human miner, or tools which can work such into things of beauty and value, to be traded to humans for whatever the cho-ja truly wish to possess? I will match the other Lord’s offer in value, but with things cho-ja do not fashion for themselves: tools, and needra hide of equal worth, and resin-worked woods.’ She paused, then added, ‘Also weapons and armour for her warriors.’
‘A generous offer,’ observed the old Queen. Her eyes glittered brightly while she translated as if she enjoyed the striving between human rulers. The exchange was punctuated by excited trills.
Strained and tired, Mara closed her eyes. The Acoma resources stood in danger of depletion, and the pledge she had just made relied heavily on the craftsmen brought in by Lujan, armourers and weapons makers whose work had yet to be evaluated. And the cho-ja would be insulted by inferior work, perhaps even moved to wrath.
The messenger returned quickly. He exchanged rapid clicks with the Queen matriarch, and the daughter Queen broke into a series of loud trills.
Mara dreaded the translation; surely the outburst from the daughter Queen signified a magnanimous concession from the rival Lord.
The old Queen finished with the messenger. Still as a statue of obsidian, she said, ‘Lady Ruler, the Lord above ground has informed us that he recognizes Acoma colours upon the warriors who wait by the hive entrance. He says he knows of your resources and claims further that you cannot possibly meet the terms you have just named.’
Mara’s eyes narrowed before the glittering gaze of the Queen. ‘His words are untrue.’ She paused, contained a sharp, dangerous anger, and arose from her cushion. ‘This Lord speaks from ignorance.’
Indifferent to Mara’s ire, the Queen said, ‘I do not understand.’
Mara strove to control her fury. ‘Do the cho-ja know the details of every hive, the workings, the goings-on?’
The Queen flicked her forearms in perplexity. ‘Whatever transpires in a hive is known to all queens.’ She paused a long minute, then chittered softly to the young Queen. To Mara she added, ‘Clearly your human ways differ from ours.’
Mara licked her lips and tasted sweat. Strain must not drive her to act rashly. Deep below ground, with only six warriors standing between herself and the most rigorous of hive defences, a single mistimed gesture might prove fatal. ‘I am Ruling Lady of the Acoma,’ Mara said carefully. ‘I say that no house in the Empire dares to presume to know the extent of my resources! This rival Lord bargains without honour and his charge is an insult to my house.’ She stepped forward, fear masked by the proud bearing of her ancestors, and faced the young Queen directly. ‘Lady of the cho-ja, I negotiate in good faith. Know that, as an Acoma, I hold my word more important than my life.’
The wait as her words were translated threatened to break her, yet Mara endured, hands clenched hard together. The young Queen studied the human visitor with keen curiosity, while the old Queen gave instructions to her messengers. Mara’s challenge to her unseen rival above ground broached matters of honour, and a bloodletting might result that could carry even into the hive. Fighting an onset of panic, Mara cursed inwardly. Not knowing the identity of her rival placed her at a severe disadvantage.
A faint scrape sounded in the passage as the next messenger whisked into view. The old Queen heard him, then spoke. ‘Lady Ruler, the Lord above concedes his words were spoken in anger. Perhaps you might have armourers who can fulfil the obligation you have promised, but he says all the Empire knows that his wealth is greater than that of the Acoma. For the young Queen he will better any and all offers the Lady Mara cares to make, if my daughter will choose his land for her new hive.’
Jade bracelets clashed against silence as Mara stiffened. ‘Who boasts his wealth is superior to mine?’
‘The Lord of the Ekamchi,’ answered the Queen.
Mara looked askance at Arakasi, for the name was only vaguely familiar. The Spy Master left his place among her retinue and whispered swiftly, ‘Inrodaka’s closest friend. He has some wealth, a little more than your own, I think. His army is small, though he probably has an escort with him that outnumbers us. I remember him as a fat man, with no personal history of warc
raft and most likely little courage.’
Mara nodded. The speed with which the Lord of the Ekamchi had retracted his claim to know Acoma resources seemed to indicate the hesitancy of a man unsure of himself. Relying on Arakasi’s implicit advice, Mara said, ‘Advantage shifts away from us the longer we wait. I think I need to be bold.’
The Spy Master flashed a quick smile as he bowed and returned to his place. Making her voice ring with a confidence she did not feel, Mara addressed the young Queen. ‘Daughter Queen of the cho-ja, I say now the Acoma will match any bid set forth by this arrogant braggart who stands above us. All material goods he offers I will equal in kind for your hive. I also promise that sweet-smelling blossoms will be delivered each day of the spring, that those pleasures of life above ground will not be forgotten by you as you care for your subjects. I will have hangings of pretty colours made by our finest weavers, so your quarters will always be pleasant, and these hangings shall be replaced each season, that you not tire of your surroundings. And I will come, and sit, and discuss with you the affairs of the Empire, so you may grow in understanding of human affairs. I beg that you now choose which estate you will have as home for your new hive.’
Silence fell. The attendant workers seemed to tense slightly as the Queen matriarch began her translation, each click and whistle starkly emphasized. Mara listened with the breath stopped in her throat, while at her sides Keyoke and Arakasi exchanged grim signals of readiness. Their mistress had made a bold request, and no man knew how the alien cho-ja might respond.
The two queens conferred. Tense, aching with pressure, Mara felt the minutes stretched like the strings of a gikoto tightened past pitch by an overanxious musician. Every shred of self-control she had learned at the temple came into play as she endured cruel suspense. The faces of her retainers surrounded her, from the familiar, lined visage of Keyoke, to each of her soldiers, to the enigmatic countenance of Arakasi. Chills pricked her skin as she wondered what fate would befall should the cho-ja Queen decide against the Acoma; if the bargain went to the Lord of the Ekamchi, she would have enemies waiting above. Any advantage she had gained by entering the hive would be lost; her boldness ultimately might bring her death, since no man knew what guest customs the alien race observed.
The Complete Empire Trilogy Page 17