Dangerous Offspring

by Steph Swainston

  The waters’ edge was slick with glistening wet carapaces. The tops of their eyes emerged first, then their leg joints, combing through the ripples. They crawled straight out, head, thorax and the strange long abdomen; rivulets running down between their hard segments.

  Oh no…These are the hatchlings. Young Insects. Insect larvae.

  Lourie’s troops had dissolved into a tussling, hopelessly entangled mob of men, crushed by their own confusion and swarmed over by the larvae. They were pressed so closely together they were suffocating. I saw armoured fists raised. Men used sword pommels to club each other out of the way. None of the infantry could see the lake. To them, the creatures were closing in from all sides equally, so thick on the ground that one man could do nothing. They had no idea what they were facing. The great length of pikes was useless against creatures close by and tight against the mud, and the small sword or misericord most carried was too short to be effective without bending down. The larvae were crawling up the legs of the armoured men, biting in between their plates, hanging off faulds, curling around men’s necks. As they stabbed at one, another bit them. Men wrenched them off, leaving chitinous legs trapped between their armour’s plates, but as they pulled one off, more swarmed up.

  The heavy infantry by now were seriously worried, even though few had even seen the larvae yet. On the wings I could see their step beginning to waver and corporal looking to sergeant; sergeant to captain; captain to warden; warden to governor or Eszai, all wanting to know what to do.

  Lourie and those with him–already no more than a company–were now nearly surrounded. Larvae flowed towards them like a tan wave. He knew it was safer to keep fighting than to run. Anyone who ran was borne down by clinging hatchlings, or tripped as several lunged at his feet, or he slipped in the mud and they overwhelmed him.

  Lourie was spinning his glaive and stabbing larvae before and behind him. He was making his way steadily backwards but his path was blocked by the jostling crush–the remains of his own ranks. Bodies were beginning to pile up on the edges. The men in the middle were heaving their own dead out of the way to give themselves more room, but the armoured bodies only hemmed them in and gave the ravenous larvae a feast.

  I chose a spot some distance from Lourie, slightly ahead of the front of the advancing larvae, and landed. ‘Hurricane!’ I yelled.

  Lourie’s sallow face turned towards me for an instant. His legs were muddied up to the hips. He had taken his helmet off and his cornrow-braided hair glistened with sweat.

  I yelled, ‘Run! There’s a way out, here!’

  Lourie ignored me. ‘The Emperor,’ he said loudly, looking down. ‘I’m not running in front of the Emperor.’

  ‘There’s nothing you can do! Come on!’

  Lourie said something derogatory about Rhydanne. He spun the glaive high and under his arm, accurately stabbing a crawling larva. He lifted it into the air. It flicked its tail under it, spattering mud.

  They were sweeping towards me quickly, jetting water out of their tails to propel themselves through the liquid pooled over the churned earth, swarming on their short legs across the drier ground. Their hunger seemed even more desperate and insatiable than the adults’. I readied myself, trying to make out the nearest. It had a narrow, cylindrical shape and a long abdomen made up of segments that came to a point.

  Familiar, but smaller, six jointed legs were bunched together under its thorax. The flattened head was hunched and joined to its body by a thick neck. It was dark brown with paler sandy and black spots along its sides. The crook-backed carapace was thinner, with many more joints and far more flexible than an Insect. Thick spines edged and topped its sinuous abdomen. Tiny wing-buds lay tight against its thorax like a backpack; much smaller than Insects’ undeveloped wings but these were recognisably a different stage in the life-cycle of the same creature.

  I had seen enough. I swung my ice axe at it, missed, and the pick passed close to its head. It reared up onto its two back legs, spread out its front legs and opened its jaws threateningly. Another made straight for my foot. Its jaws shot out and grabbed my ankle. Fucking shit! Its jaws shoot out! It bit straight through my boot and suddenly a pair of hooks twisted in my ankle. I slammed my axe down through its neck, with the speed of pain. It was impaled, but it didn’t let go. It flexed the joint of its extendible jaw and pulled its body towards me by the fangs anchored in my boot. I levered them out with the axe pick. It curled up, convulsing–its mandible folded limply back underneath its head.

  I took steps backwards, smashing the heads of larvae around me. Pleased with my prowess I looked up–the whole kilometre of ground from myself to the lake was swarming with them! I ran, limping, in the opposite direction and took off.

  Dank though it was, the air had rarely felt so welcoming. Unfortunately I couldn’t stay up here, I had to stop the rout spreading. I could feel my bitten foot bleeding into my boot. My flight path took me over the left flank; Tornado’s halted formation. I’ll tell him first.

  I came down in front of the heavy infantry. Their nervous eyes peered from helmet slits. More mud splattered into my flight feathers as I slid to a halt. I couldn’t keep doing this or I would soon be grounded. Tornado exploded out of the ranks before me, over two metres of confused belligerence in chain mail.

  ‘Jant! What the fuck’s going on?’

  ‘Insects. Larvae, I think. Loads of them, coming this way.’

  ‘What?’

  I stopped, took a breath. ‘It’s a new type of Insect, coming from the lake. They’re smaller but there’s millions of them. Hard to see cos they keep very close to the ground. I killed a couple; they’re softer than adults. But they’re fast and they can swim. Lourie’s cut off! Pikes are useless against them. His men are running.’

  ‘No! No one runs! Not now!’

  I had never seen him look so furious.

  ‘Tornado, this is something new…’

  ‘What about spears? Are they any use?’

  ‘Short ones might be, if you stab down with them. Long swords, maces, axes maybe. Their jaws are on a hinge, like an arm! They shoot out this far in front! One bit me in the ankle! I saw them reaching through gaps in armour.’

  He called, ‘Signal the advance! Fyrd! Follow me! Your Emperor is watching! Runners! Tell Serein to keep his men close to us–don’t let any spaces open up!’

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘My job. These soldiers are the Select of the Plainslands and they’re not trying to wield a pike like a tree-trunk. You can tell San that we’re going to rescue Hurricane and then we’re going to reach our objective. If you can kill them, so can we.’ He spoke loudly, for the benefit of the front ranks. They cheered. He looked at me levelly, though without malice.

  ‘Look–’

  ‘That’s all, Jant.’ He turned away.

  ‘Excuse me!’ But the bastard didn’t pay the slightest bit of attention. I muttered as I took off, ‘I’ll go find someone intelligent to talk to.’

  Now with a better view I could see the central phalanx had disintegrated into a bloody shambles. Those who could were splashing away, shoving through the archers behind them, discarding weapons and armour. The captain of a Rachiswater division tried to halt them. She grabbed a man but he kept running with such force that he pulled her from her horse and they both fell struggling into the mud. The surrounding infantry began to form up into shield walls, whether out of fear of Insects or their own routers I couldn’t know.

  Sirocco was trying to stage a more orderly retreat with what remained of his command but he was now faced by solid ranks of shields and spears in the hands of panicking men.

  Lourie’s diminishing band were standing in a circle, completely surrounded as, hundreds of metres away, the left wing began to wheel ponderously towards him. Tornado’s men were fighting already in fresh swarms of nymphs. The right wing was still halted in confusion, not yet in contact with the larvae: cavalry rode up and down trying to see what was going on even while the ranks
nearest the slaughter were peeling away and breaking up. The ground was heaving as larvae, attracted by the blood, funnelled into our centre from the left, from the lake. The sky was alive with horns, shouts and screams. Shit. Shitshitshit! I glided low, heading for the Micawater standard, until I picked out Lightning.

  I leant against the wind and soared lower and lower to horseback-level, then pulled my wings in and dropped to the ground. At that very moment the Circle broke.

  Lightning gave a great cry of rage: ‘Lourie!’

  I furled the blades of my wings and staggered to my feet. The mud here was atrocious. Lightning’s horse was smeared in it up to the breast.

  ‘Hurricane is dead.’ Lightning looked down from the saddle. ‘What in San’s name is happening out there? Do I shoot or advance?’

  ‘I don’t know for sure,’ I said. ‘The sarissai were attacked by Insect larvae. They routed and the akontistai are caught up in it…’

  ‘Insect what?’

  I briefly described the new kind of Insects. ‘Little, long Insects. So big–’ I held my hands apart. ‘But their jaws shoot out this far on a kind of jointed appendage. They’re intent on eating. And they’re going to keep coming because the ground from here to the lake is solid with them.’

  Lightning looked to his steward, who was on a brown horse beside him, acting as a division captain. The warden of the first Micawater battalion was on horseback just beyond him. Lightning said, ‘We don’t know what these things can do. We haven’t seen them before and they’re not Insects; I don’t know what it could mean. Abort the march. We will return to town.’

  I said, ‘Tornado and Wrenn are already advancing. They are–were–trying to relieve Hurricane. They’re in amongst the larvae all up there–’ I pointed towards the centre.

  ‘What! Into my target zone?’

  ‘Yes. The larvae look small and easy to kill but they don’t know how many there are.’

  ‘Why are they advancing independently? Why didn’t you stop them?’

  ‘Tawny wouldn’t listen. He’s been throwing his weight around ever since San arrived. But there are millions of larvae. They’re bound to get cut off.’

  Lightning rubbed his hand over his mouth and gazed at me. ‘A battlefield is no place for heroics, Jant. The fate of the First Circle is all the proof we need. San’s presence is causing us to act like fools.’

  ‘What can we do?’

  ‘I can’t see Tornado’s and Wrenn’s positions. I can’t cover them now without hitting them. And bloody Tornado’s advance must have left all my archers following him exposed to attack from those things.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Right…’ Lightning shook his head and focused properly on me. The crisis had revitalised him. His depression had lifted. He said, ‘We’re pulling out. We’re not going to have a second massacre at Slake Cross.’

  He called up four dispatch riders simply by pointing at them, said, ‘You go to Sleat. Tell him to get his fyrd to form a shield wall in front of the archers on the west flank. The archers must shoot at will to support them. You, go to the Sapper and Macer on the east flank. Tell them to sound the retreat and retire in order. Advise them we are facing a new type of Insect and they should avoid engagement. Tell them the Emperor commands this. You tell Hayl the same and then command the reserves on the east wing to follow the hastai as they pull out. You go to Thunder. Inform him that we will be retreating and ask that he prepare to cover us. Suggest that he tries flaming projectiles–they may scare these larvae. Then tell the Slake Cross garrison to man the walls.’

  The dispatch riders galloped away, spraying muck over the front rank of archers. Lightning turned to his steward. ‘Harrier, speak to the Blacksmith and organise the battalions here into a proper defensive position–because when the Insects finish off Hurricane’s men they’ll be up against us. We will retreat in unison with the west flank.’

  ‘Yes, my lord.’

  Lightning sighed, looked at his saddle pommel then up again. ‘Harrier. Make sure the fyrd know that the Emperor is watching them and they must stand firm. But if anyone runs, they must be shot. Tell the wardens this. And have the provosts form up behind us. We can’t afford another panic.’

  ‘I understand, my lord.’ He paused, nodded, then sped away.

  ‘Jant, go to Eleonora. I mean the Queen. Say her lancers must charge straight up the flank and pick up as many of Tornado’s and Wrenn’s troops as they can, then retreat to camp.’

  ‘Consider it done.’ I prepared to take off.

  ‘And you must inform the Emperor of what I have ordered.’

  I stared at him. I had to tell San we were retreating? ‘Yes, but…’

  ‘Do it. I will meet you at the Imperial Fyrd once I have finished here.’

  Back in the air I could see the formations below beginning to reorganise themselves with glacial speed, drawing together more tightly. I shuddered at the thought of being land-bound, encased in metal, clumsy and slow in the face of the darting nymphs.

  The Queen’s cavalry were gleaming on the extreme west flank. As they were not treading in the infantry’s tracks they had escaped the worst mud and, being upwind of the Insects, the horses were calm. At the point of their wedge I could see Eleonora’s upturned face calmly watching as I circled down to land nearby.

  She spread her wings in greeting, called, ‘Why, Jant! You honour us with your presence!’

  I approached her. She sat confidently astride her steel-clad thoroughbred, armoured in her usual mix of shining metal and self-assurance. She held her helmet beneath one arm and lance in the other hand, a pale blue pennon lazily waving from it. Her dark hair was immaculate and I even imagined I could detect a trace of rose perfume. An oval shield and a selection of weapons were slung from her saddle. She looked just as formidable on the battlefield as in her boudoir. ‘Such a shame to bring you down here, when you look so…graceful in the air.’

  I had no time for Eleonora’s crap. ‘We’re being attacked! ‘Leon, there’s a new kind of Insect coming out of the lake. Lightning has ordered a retreat. A total withdrawal! Tornado and Serein’s hastai will soon be cut off at the front. Lightning commands you and your lancers to charge, rescue them, and carry as many as possible back to town.’

  I described the larvae. Eleonora frowned, then changed to an over-hand grip on her lance, pointing it at the ground like a spear.

  ‘Tell Lightning I accept his command.’ She turned, shouted, ‘Lancers of Awia! Follow your Queen!’ She glanced at me and pulled her helmet visor down over her smile. I staged my own tactical retreat.

  I flew to the Emperor and tipped my wings to him. He raised a hand and the Imperial Fyrd walked their horses aside to let him through. As he did so, Frost on her dapple stallion emerged from behind the last riders on the corner of the square. She urged it into a trot and began to advance, even as the call to retreat was going up. Her bodyguard trailed her. I circled, trying to keep her in view. She’s an experienced Eszai, she should realise how serious this is. What was she playing at?

  I glanced down, acutely aware of San watching me. Frost could look after herself. I descended. The horses of the Imperial cavalry tossed their heads and held them high, their white-edged eyes watching my great wings beating. The horses were actually shaking as their riders struggled to still them.

  The riders and mounts acted as a windbreak, and I had no current to balance on for the last few metres. I fell down heavily and landed in a crouch. My coat-tails flopped to the ground. There was a smash and tinkle of broken glass in my deep right pocket. Crouching in the hoof-printed mud I wondered what it could be. Shit. The jar with the Vermiform worms.

  I hadn’t thought about it at all up until this instant. I looked down, and worms were wriggling out of my pocket.

  CHAPTER 22

  Worms, bursting from my pocket, squirmed down my coat in rivulets and dropped off onto the ground. They scattered in all directions and began sinking into the mud, wriggling and twisting around my fe
et as they burrowed their way down. I scrabbled frantically with both hands, trying to catch hold of them, but they disappeared right under my fingers. I went after others, and the same thing happened. They were too quick; the ends of their tails vanished into the mud. In a few seconds, they had all gone.

  I looked up at the Emperor, who was leaning forward over his horse’s neck, watching me curiously. I said, ‘Ah, my lord…’

  ‘Comet?’

  I stood up. ‘Lightning sent me to say he’s halted the advance and is recalling the men to camp.’

  ‘So I see. Why?’

  ‘There are millions of little Insects with extendible jaws, coming out of the lake. They killed Hurricane; now Tornado and Wrenn are surrounded. Lightning’s sending the Awian lancers to their aid.’

  ‘Little Insects?’ the Emperor queried.

  I felt something tighten around my ankle. I looked down and so did the Emperor. A thick tentacle of worms was pushing from the soil like the fat stem of a vine. It had wrapped twice around my ankle and the tip was halfway round another loop.

  The Emperor’s eyes widened but he said nothing. Apologetically I tugged my leg. The tentacle paused, tugged back, then yanked me off my feet. Before I could hit the mud the tentacle shot out of it, a thick column, hoisting me up. I dangled helplessly from my ankle as it poured up, past the Emperor. It kept going, bursting from the ground like the trunk of a tree. Its surface had a linear texture; millions on millions of worms streaking into the air.

  The Emperor and all the square of horses shrank quickly below. I could see the whole battlefield now. The Imperial Fyrd’s faces looked up, pale and shocked. On all sides of the square they were turning their horses and taking flight. Those in the middle were stepping this way and that trying to push a way out. San, in complete control of Alezane, was looking up at me calmly.