Lords of the Seventh Swarm, Book 3 of the Golden Queen Series

by David Farland

  Thomas did as ordered, though he'd never fired a pulp pistol. It was similar enough to Gallen's incendiary rifle, he thought he knew, how to handle it.

  He held it stiffly, at arm's length, afraid of its explosive power. Felph frowned at his stance.

  They descended down the wide corridor to meet the sfuz.

  Chapter Forty One

  Orick smelled the dead Dronon before he saw them, but he smelled Gallen, too, and bounded forward, calling Gallen's name.

  Gallen raised up, like a heap of bloody rags coming to life, and Orick froze in horror.

  Or--Or--Go back!" Gallen choked.

  From the far end of the chamber, as lights suddenly blazed, a Vanquisher stepped forward, a shadow among shadows, and knelt low, crossing its battle arms before it, pointing its head to the floor. Its mouthfingers pounded over its voicedrum and a translator said, "Welcome, Maggie Flynn, 0 great and honored Golden Queen. We bring you greetings and a challenge from Cintkin and Kintiniklintit, Lords of the Seventh Swarm.”

  "No!" Maggie screamed.

  "This land is ours," the Vanquisher continued his ritual greeting. "All land is ours! A great Golden Queen comes among you. She is worthy! Prepare for battle!

  Behind Orick, Maggie screamed again, "No! No!" The sound of it nearly broke his heart. A dozen times in the last months he'd heard her wake in the night, screaming those

  words.

  Now it comes, he realized, the sum of all her nightmares.

  Above him, dozens of Dronon flapped their wings. By instinct Orick reared on his hind legs, prepared to battle. He sniffed the air, and immediate!- dropped to all fours. He was a bear, alone against Dronon with heavy weapons. He couldn't fight. To Tailea's credit. she too had reared on her hind legs, and now stood, roaring her rage, so the sound reverberated through the chamber. The nearest Dronon shrank back reflexively.

  Give 'em hell, Orick thought. He ran to Gallen, found Gallen nearly unconscious.

  "Gallen, Gallen?" Orick grumbled, and he licked Gallen's face, trying to shock his friend awake. He tasted blood and dirt.

  Gallen struggled to look uo. He seemed unaware of what was going on. He choked out the words. "Get out of here. The Dronon were here. Don't let them get Maggie!"

  Orick tried to survey all the damage at once. Gallen's face was a swollen mass. Blood stained the robes of his arms and legs. His mantle was gone, lying in the dirt a dozen paces out of his reach. His right leg twisted at an unnatural angle, broken in more than one place, chained to a stake in the ground.

  "Are you all right?" Orick asked in shock, knowing Gallen was an inch from death, not knowing what else to say.

  Gallen just dropped his head and began to sob, his shoulders shuddering under the impact. "Found ... city. Ahead. Beat me. They beat me ... so bad."

  Orick looked at the dead Dronon lying about-hacked with a vibro-blade, carapaces smashed from kicks. Gallen must have put up a terrible fight, an unholy fight. At least two dozen of the creatures lay dead. He’d never imagined anything like it.

  Orick suddenly became aware that Maggie had rushed up beside him and had fallen to her knees. He’d been so focused on Gallen, hadn’t registered her presence still standing behind him. She just knelt, hovering above Gallen, her hands out, wanting to touch him, afraid to touch him, lest she hurt him further.

  “Gallen, lad, what can I do for you? What can I do?” I’ll fight in his place, Orick thought. That’s what I’ll do. He can’t fight, so I’ll take his place.

  Gallen shook his head. Nothing. You can do nothing, he was saying.

  “I know, I know,” Orick said. “I’ll cut myself, let the nanodocs in my blood heal you. the way we did for Everynne that time.”

  Gallen’s head wobbled back and forth, and Orick reached with one claw, pricked his right paw, then began smearing blood over Gallen’s head on the top. He felt as if he were a bishop, anointing a priest with holy oil. He dared not smear the blood elsewhere, for Gallen’s body was so battered and torn, he didn’t want to hurt his friend. By hurting

  I heal him, Orick thought, and he dabbed the blood over a deep gash on Gallen’s temple.

  Maggie put a restraining hand on Orick’s paw. Though she’d been sobbing uncontrollably, her voice when she spoke sounded calm. “Don’t Orick. You’re only hurting him. Don’t hurt him more. There’s no time. Even with nanodocs, it will take weeks for him to heal.”

  Orick looked up at her. She’s reconciled to her own death, he realized. “But, but----I’ll fight for you, Maggie. I”ll be your Lord Protector!”

  Maggie held a glow globe lightly in her left hand. Its piercing light shone full on her face. she was pale as death, the freckles she’d had as a child standing out unnaturally clear. Maggie took several breaths. Gallen fainted, and she put one hand on his shoulder, then looked at Orick, as if he were far away.

  "Orick,my friend, my dearest friend. There's nothing you can do for me now. If you fight in Gallen's stead, you'll die. You can't beat the Dronon. I won't have the weight of that on my conscience. Gallen wouldn't want it either."

  Orick stared. She was right, yet he could not accept defeat. "No!" Orick cried.

  "I'll ... I'll ... Will you listen to me " Maggie said.

  "Will you obey me, as if I were your Golden Queen?"

  Orick's jaw trembled. "What? What do you want?"

  "Gallen and I, we've had good lives. You know that we were both infected by the Inhuman. We remember life. We cherish it. We've both lived-far longer than any person should rightfully live. It's time for it to end. You have to let us go."

  "No!" Orick roared.

  "But I think I speak for us both," Maggie added, "when I tell you that of all our lives, this one we've spent with you is the one we treasured most. You've been a great and good friend."

  "No!" Orick shouted.

  "Leave us, now," Maggie begged.

  Tallea came up behind Orick, nuzzled his ear, and whispered. "The Waters of Strength. We could still save him."

  Orick looked up to the Dronon who had addressed Maggie, and shouted, "Where will the battle for succession take place?"

  "At the great palace, the seat of government for this world," the Dronon answered.

  Orick turned to Maggie. He promised. "I'll get the Waters. I'll be back. I'll bring it for you.”

  Maggie nodded, biting her lower lip, unbelieving.

  Orick and Tallea made their way pass the Dronon messenger who stood before them, to pass through the chamber.

  "Halt!" the Vanquisher ordered.

  Maggie stood, letting her arms hang loose at her side, a pose of dignity under the circumstances. "You will let them pass. I'm still Golden Queen on this world, and you'll not interfere with my servants on their errand."

  The Dronon stood warily, then raised itself up to its full height in a defensive posture, its battle arms poised to strike, and stepped away. Orick scampered past the Vanquisher, then into the darkness beyond, where several more Dronon lined the wall.

  Tallea held her glow globe in her teeth. In moments they were running together, shadows bobbing in the darkness.

  Gallen's path ahead was easy to follow--trampled by Dronon tracks. The Dronon had apparently found his trail, taken Gallen from behind in an open chamber. Even a Lord Protector cannot withstand six dozen Dronon when he's outgunned.

  Orick came to a broad bog, silent and cold, and had to swim across. After that, Gallen's tracks became confusing. He'd spent hours exploring various passages, backtracking, climbing up and down tree trunks, looking for the road.

  Zeus's tracks followed Gallen's. In one place, Gallen had followed a false trial, and Zeus had gone after. Orick imagined that it was under such circumstances that Gallen had returned from his trip, passing Zeus, who had gone chasing a false trail. Indeed, Orick found the precise spot where the Dronon had met Gallen's trail, bypassing Zeus. And Orick followed the false trail a few dozen meters, found Zeus's tracks in the dirt, plastered around a little side chamber.

&nbs
p; Zeus must have hidden here, watching the adjoining tunnel. He must have heard the Dronon coming. In fact, Zeus may even have spotted Gallen from this hiding place.

  So Zeus was headed to the city, Orick reasoned, not searching for Gallen at all. Zeus had gone questing for the Waters of Strength to suit his own ends.

  This information filled Orick with a terrible sadness.

  Orick had little choice but to follow Gallen's trail-a long and winding way through the tangle. For three hours he picked his way-twice losing Gallen's trail in boggy ground, once taking a false track.

  Gallen had returned to one great chamber on three occasions-taking several trails that all, connected, and Orick had to follow each trail to its conclusion, for the scent and footprints in this chamber were so jumbled as to be impossible to read. .

  At last, he and Tallea found a broad tunnel with timbers shoring the walls in places. At its juncture he found several dead sfuz.

  Four times over the next few hundred meters, Orick found dead sfuz and Dronon. Gallen's trek had been neither easy nor uneventful. The hacked bodies, bleeding gore both green and purple, bore evidence of Gallen's proficiency in swordsmanship. if Gallen had won his way back to camp, this journey would have been the stuff of legend on Tihrglas.

  Orick was acutely aware of the fact that he and Tallea were mere bears, without the weapons Gallen had mastered. If they met any sfuz or Dronon, they'd not be able to win their way so easily.

  Fortunately for Orick the road was quiet. No sfuz whistled through the tunnels.

  Yet as Orick proceeded, to his terror he heard marching feet, the clacking of carapaces against the ground.

  Ahead, the tunnel curved. The great timbers shoring it up looked for all the world like the ribs of some great fish. Bright lights shone. A Dronon war party was marching his

  way.

  He looked to Tallea for suggestions. If a Dronon saw two bears down here, what would they do?

  They'd fire, never knowing what they'd killed.

  "Run!" Orick shouted, and he turned. Together he and Tallea raced back down the tunnel, away from Teeawah.

  Chapter Forty Two

  Maggie followed the Dronon in a daze, stumbling through the tangle. It was not a long journey-the Dronon guided her to the nearest shuttle, only a thousand meters from where she'd found Gallen, but it was a difficult journey.

  Gallen couldn't walk, even with Maggie's help, so a single Dronon Vanquisher lifted Gallen in its battle claws and carried him, while Maggie walked beside, cradling Gallen's broken leg. He seemed so light and frail. At times a misstep jostled him, and Gallen would cry out like a child.

  Maggie found no weapons beside Gallen, none but his mantle. She wore it now, knowing in all likelihood that it would avail her nothing in the battle to come. She had no hope of beating a Dronon, but Maggie would not give up.

  Could not give up.

  As Gallen had protected her so many times, she'd struggle to protect him now. She wondered how the Dronon would react to a Golden Queen who fought, instead of relying on her Lord Escort.

  All through the journey, she marveled at the Dronon. She saw dozens of their dead, sprawled along the road. One Vanquisher lay headless from a sfuz's snare, another with a burning hole under his abdomen where, Maggie assumed, he took a hit from friendly fire.

  Such a waste of life in this magnificent display of force. The Dronon could kill Maggie anytime, could have done so months ago when she and Gallen first defeated the Lords of the Sixth Swarm, but they had to carry on their farce, had to hold to their ancient formulae for succession.

  So they marched till they reached a wedge-shaped cruiser deep in the tangle. Inside, the Dronon escorted Maggie to a holding bay, a veritable prison with white ceramic walls. The room had no windows; one dim light glowed red as the sun on Dronon.

  The Vanquisher unceremoniously dropped Gallen to the floor. Gallen landed on his side with a yelp, then curled into a ball.

  Maggie knelt over him, took her canteen, and wetted the tips of her long hair, then began cleaning his face. It was a mass of braises, his nose broken and skewed to the side. in the darkness she'd thought all his teeth missing, but saw that only two of his top teeth were knocked out. The others were darkened by blood.

  Gallen winced from her ministrations, opened his eyes, stared at her, pain showing in every line of his face, in the swollen bruises. Maggie bent and tenderly kissed him. "It will. all be over soon enough. Don't worry."

  Gallen shook his head. "No," he gasped. "It doesn't end. it just goes on without us."

  "Close your eyes," she begged. "Rest now." "I'll rest when I have to," Gallen said. "Let me look at you."

  Maggie smiled at him, tears filling her eyes.

  "So pretty," Gallen whispered. "So pretty. The best in all County Morgan, or anywhere else I've been, for that matter."

  She kissed him precisely in the center of the forehead. "I needed to be. You wouldn't settle for less."

  Maggie wondered as she kissed him. The people of Tremonthin bred him to be a Lord Protector, and Ceravanne had said his seed would spread across the galaxy on backward worlds. Maggie wondered if somewhere in a place she'd never imagined, a woman held another Gallen, a man with the same face, and kissed him with such passion as she did now. She hoped so. She hoped he'd live on in some form.

  She didn't want Felph to resurrect him. Gallen wouldn't want to live without her. But he deserved to be treasured.

  The floor of the shuttle began to quiver as it lifted gently from the tangle. Maggie got the vague floating sensation one does at liftoff.

  She held Gallen's hand. "How can I make you comfortable?"

  "Escape," Gallen said.

  Maggie laughed softly, not really amused, simply wanting to humor him. "All right, I will, if you'll come with me.'

  Gallen whimpered, and closed his eyes.

  "I love you," Maggie said as he rested. "I want you to know, that lately, when I dream, sometimes I dream of the other lives that the Inhuman showed us. I dream we're Roamers out on the veldt, squatting in the limbs of some sprawling oak tree, and I remember old mates. But in my dream, every husband I've ever had, when I dream of him, it's you I think of." Maggie knew she sounded crazy, but she wanted Gallen to know, that of all the loves she remembered, of all the mates whose presence she still craved, she loved Gallen most.

  Gallen grinned, a relaxed upturning of the lips. Maggie held his hands for the twenty minutes it took to reach Felph's palace. He fell asleep, and though Maggie yearned to wake him, she didn't have the heart to. She merely hunched over him, her face pressed so close she could taste his breath, and she tried to memorize his face, every detail of his face. Some priests back on Tihrglas, those who recognized the Tome as canonical, said men and women could marry for eternity, so in the next life they'd still be one. Maggie wished it were true. If God had any sense of justice, she told herself, if He had the slightest notion of right and wrong, He'd make it so. He'd let them be together in the next life.

  As she told herself this, it helped soothe the sting of watching Gallen sleep the last few moments of his life away.

  When he was fast asleep, she took off the black robe she wore, the robe of a Lord Protector, and wrapped it around Gallen's broken leg. Then she ripped strips from her dress, bound the thing. Perhaps it would do some good. Perhaps the robe would protect him one last time, saving him some little jarring pain when they reached the killing fields.

  Gallen slept as she bandaged him, and he still slumbered when the cruiser reached Felph's palace and landed in the great court before the gates.

  The Vanquishers came for them; one lifted Gallen in its great claws. Maggie took Gallen's hand, held it as the Dronon carried him from his cell to the top of the gangplank.

  Maggie wasn't prepared for the sight before her: it was just dawn, light beginning to break over the far mountains.

  In the fields before the gates of Felph's magnificent palace of pink sandstone, the Dronon warships circled. Black, s
quat, adorned with armaments, bristling with weapons.

  Clinging to every surface of every vehicle, and scattered on every inch of ground, were Dronon Vanquishers and technicians, a vast sea of black-and-tan carapaces. In many places, Vanquishers climbed atop one another's backs creating black walls, forming a great arena made of chitin.

  Yet behind them were the glorious towers of Felph's palace, the thundering waterfalls all backlit by thousands of footlights.

  The Dronon had set pavilions at seven corners of the arena, pavilions of red, each covered with the evil-looking designs of various Dronon Swarms. Beneath these languished the Golden Queens, with countless dwarfish workers attending, white as grubs.

  Around the great circle, millions of Dronon chanted, mouthfingers clacking over their voicedrums, while Vanquishers shook incendiary rifles in the air. Maggie did not know what they shouted. She was past caring.

  Mustering her dignity, Maggie walked down the gangplank beside the Vanquisher who bore her husband's limp body. Gallen roused enough to crane his neck, surveying the battlefield. When they reached the edge of the open ifeld, the Vanquisher gently set Gallen in the grass.

  Maggie looked across the field for humans, anyone at all. Lord Feiph was not here, but on the left side of the field, Hera and Athena broke into a run, rushing toward her, tears in their eyes, faces pale.

  Athena rushed up and grabbed at Maggie's left wrist, pawing her, shouting, "What's happening? What are you doing?"

  "Everything will be fine. Go on, now. It's not you the Dronon are after. You'll be all right," Maggie found herself trying to calm Athena. She wished the girl would calm herself, not force Maggie to be strong.

  Maggie kept pushing at Athena, trying to I get her to leave.

  Hera saw the determination in Maggie's eyes, pulled Athena back, retreated to shadows thrown by the ship behind Maggie.

  At the far side of the field, a Golden Queen began to heave herself onto the battleground, her pale attendants struggling beside her, pushing her bloated body forward. For one moment, Maggie saw the Dronon queen not as an emissary of her death, but as a huge balloon being pushed and shoved on the shoulders of children, and the image seemed somehow comic and somehow painful.