The Lords of Blood and Honey (The Kingdom of Honey)

by David Gardner-Martin

  On the Tenth Descent their progress was halted by a patrol of guards. Hearing their heavy footsteps approaching, Allessia led them into an open store room full of trolleys; the guards passed by. When their footsteps faded, they continued their journey ever downwards into this strange new world.

  On the Fiftieth Descent they encountered a team of drollkeepers heading for the surface.

  ‘We are in the service of His Oneness,’ said Heather, boldly. They walked on, the drollkeepers letting a group of Queen’s femones pass by without question.

  The air became thicker still with a powerful concoction of warmth, sweetness, and fear.

  ‘We are close,’ the femone said softly, and then at last they reached the Last Descent, a place so ill-lit that they had to take time to let their eyes adjust to the gloom.

  Perspiration fell from Allessia’s brow and down her cheeks. Her lips tasted salt as she stilled her breathing to listen for danger in the total silence.

  ‘This way,’ a voice whispered, and Allessia and Heather followed their guide towards an open doorway filled with bright violet light.

  As they entered the chamber a voice cried out in horror, but for a moment Allessia was unsure if it was hers or one of her companions. Then she heard Heather crying beside her and placed a hand on her arm to comfort her.

  Before them was a naked body, lying on its back on a white stone slab. For a moment Allessia could not tell what manner of being the strange figure was, such was the vastness of their grotesque distended belly rising several feet into the air above them, but then she saw two legs, two arms, and a face so twisted in agony that she almost cried out for pity. A thick leather strap had been fixed around the girl’s mouth so that no cries for help could find purchase, but the struggle for air through two gaping nostrils and the constant spasms running through her arms and legs, these also tightly strapped to metal rings fixed to the floor, gave visible testament of intolerable torment.

  Several femones stood by in silence. They stared at the visitors with fatigue and fear etched deep into their woeful expressions.

  ‘She grows larger still,’ said their guide. ‘But so fast…it is unnatural.’

  ‘But, who is she?’ Allessia managed to ask.

  ‘Her name is Lasivia, My Lady. A femone, late of our Queen’s service.’

  ‘Lasivia!’ cried Allessia, remembering the story that Queen Camellia had told her on her journey to the Winter Castell. ‘But, what is happening to her?’

  The femone looked at the awful sight once more. ‘We know not. Only that we are to feed her Royal Honey and keep her clean.’

  Allessia looked at her soulmate’s tortured face. Even through the pain, she seemed to recognise the face as well as her own.

  ‘Remove her gag,’ she commanded.

  ‘But My Lady!’ exclaimed a femone. ‘His Oneness was insistent that under no…’

  ‘Now!’

  The girl bowed, and as Allessia and Heather watched, now arm in arm without even noticing, the leather strap was removed.

  Within an instant a heart wrenching scream filled the chamber, followed after an almost insatiable gulp of air, by another.

  ‘Have you no remedy for the pain?’ cried Allessia.

  A femone walked forwards holding a dull black bottle. ‘One measure, every four hours, My Lady.’

  ‘Four measures, now!’

  The girl bowed and with the help of her companions, who held Lasivia’s mouth open, four large measures of a dark blue viscous liquid were administered.

  It took less than a minute for the drug to do its duty, Lasivia’s breathing becoming calm, her body ceasing to shake, and her wide-open eyes staring hard at Allessia in recognition.

  ‘Who…are you?’ Lasivia gasped at last.

  ‘I am, Allessia.’

  ‘Help me.’

  Allessia stared transfixed, with not a single thought coming to her of how, from such a place, she could save such helpless being.

  And then Lasivia’s belly started to shudder.

  ‘It does this before it grows,’ said their guide, and as everyone present watched in horror, Lasivia’s vast womb wobbled and stretched once more.

  ‘Kill…me,’ Lasivia gasped, the dreadful words the last lucid sound ever to leave her lips.

  For once again the stomach shuddered and grew, but this time at such an alarming rate, that everyone stepped backwards instinctively.

  ‘The drug works too fast!’ a voice cried.

  There was another vast wobble, and then a sound of tearing as skin that was stretched beyond bearing, began to give way. Several gaping splits appeared in rapid succession across Lasivia’s belly, followed by rivulets of dark red blood. But Lasivia screamed no more, her face now ashen and her eyes closed as she fell into merciful unconsciousness. And then as the mound upon her shuddered and grew once more, a small wasp like creature, premature, still-born, was pressed through the flesh to slide down her side and onto the stone slab. Then came another, and another, until at length several appeared that seemed to have some capacity for life, their bodies squirming and their tiny limbs clinging to Lasivia’s flesh.

  Lasivia gave one final rasping exhale of air from her shattered lungs, and then her heart was still. And in that moment, the alien swarm growing within her recognised the danger, and her womb was split asunder as it fought for life.

  ‘Run!’ cried Heather, taking Allessia’s arm with all thought of rank forgotten, and as an angry buzzing began to fill the air, everyone ran for the door.

  ‘Seal it!’ cried Allessia, and the metal door was swung closed and bolts rammed home. Several small creatures that had managed to slip through the gap leapt at their legs; small stings intent on vengeance found soft targets and drove home their anger. Despite shrieks of shock and pain, the femones managed to stamp them all to death.

  Behind the door the angry buzzing grew to a fearful intensity.

  ‘This way,’ shouted Allessia, and she raced away from the chamber and started to tear up the long metallic staircase, a rush of footsteps following in her wake.

  The stairs seemed endless, and when at last they finally came close to the surface, a haze of choking grey smoke blocked their way.

  ‘Cover your faces!’ cried Allessia, and she stretched a long sleeve over her nose and mouth and continued upwards. Behind her she could hear the patter of footsteps and coughing as all the femones followed her.

  The acrid smoke became denser still. Through an open doorway and beyond a balcony, huge orange flames suddenly burst into view. A deep ominous roaring could be heard.

  ‘Hurry!’ Allessia cried, and the desperate flight took to the smoke-filled stairs with renewed energy.

  After what seemed an endless minute, they reached the wide doorway into the Atrium, several femones falling to their knees with relief in fits of coughing. But even here the smoke was so dense that it was impossible to see which way to go. Then Allessia saw the shadow of a drollkeeper rush by carrying a large empty bucket, and rousing her femones one more time, she led them all at last into the cool fresh air of the Hivedom’s fields.

  Lord Hardknot’s carriage raced into the Hivedom like a whirlwind. Many hivecarls had already thrown off their armour and weapons to help contain the fire in the fields. Together with the beekeepers they rushed this way and that with large buckets from the deep wells, smothering the patches of flames in clouds of steam. Fortunately, rain had started to fall on the fields and hives, and though the trail of fire had taken hold in patches, it was clear that the danger to the Royal Honeybees had passed. But the Grand Hive was a different matter.

  ‘The fire is controlled above, Your Oneness!’ cried a drollkeeper, as Hardknot entered the choking smoke. ‘But the Deep Hives are raging!’

  ‘Seal them!’ shouted Hardknot. ‘Stop all the doors with soaked cloth and cover the floors with water! Let no air find its way below!’

  The drollkeeper bowed and rushed off to gather a team for the urgent task.

  Hardknot
found Allessia’s chamber deserted, but when he looked through the window he saw a group of femones watching the frantic activity from the safety of the fields.

  ‘What has happened?’ Allessia cried, when Hardknot finally reached her.

  ‘We must leave at once!’ he snapped.

  ‘Are my honeybees in danger?’

  ‘There is not a moment to lose!’ Hardknot shouted, ignoring the question. ‘Follow me!’

  He led them away, keeping a tight grip on Allessia’s arm, her comfort of secondary importance to her survival. As they passed close to the Grand Hive to reach his carriage, coughing and with their eyes streaming, Hardknot saw his drollkeepers struggling to keep the fire contained in the Deep Hives.

  ‘It’s out of control!’ came a shout at last as clouds of thick black smoke and searing flames tore through one of the sealed doorways. The drollkeepers turned and ran for their lives as the fire raged upwards and into the heart of the Grand Hive.

  Hardknot knew that there was no more that could be done; the building was lost. But at least the fields of Royal Clover had been spared, the Hives were secure, and the Royal Honeybees, though alarmed, safe from danger.

  ‘To the Palace!’ he shouted, as he lifted Allessia into the carriage, and moments later they raced through the Hivedom gates, a troop of mounted hivecarls, several carrying disconcerted femones across their laps, following in his wake.

  To Hardknot’s relief, Allessia quickly recovered from the smoke, though her hands and face were covered in soot. A pang of loss stabbed his heart as he remembered Lasivia and the precious fruit she had carried in her womb. The Jazpah horde had been lost, as had the Deep Hives. To recreate them would take years. Anger welled in him like a tidal wave, and as it overflowed he smashed his fist through the glass of the carriage and into the City air.

  Allessia cried out in shock at the bright red blood that spurted freely from a deep gash in his hand, but Hardknot ignored both the injury and her concern.

  When they arrived at the Palace, Allessia was taken to the Queen’s Chambers, Hardknot’s only instruction being that she remain there. Allessia said nothing, but a deep anger was writ large in her bright violet eyes as he departed. Was it merely pique at being treated in such a manner, he thought? Or was there a deeper concern riding within her young heart? But whatever the cause, he reflected, he would soon have an infinity of time to correct it.

  He left the Palace and headed for St. Parthanter’s Cathedral.

  Despite the setback, his spirits slowly began to climb as his carriage sped through the dark empty streets. What matter that the Grand Hive was lost; perhaps its time had come. Then the thought of constructing a new Grand Hive suddenly came to him and his heartbeat leapt. A new building, more magnificent by far, and one that did not skulk beneath the ground to hide its true purpose, but soared even above the clouds to glorify the name of Honeyism. The Hivedom walls were coming down, and once the Royal Honeybees were free to roam, flowers and blossoms would be sure to propagate in every nook and cranny of the vast City. And when a new Grand Hive was built, Jazpahs for protection and Drollups for work, could be created in quantities so vast as to far surpass any imagination. His would be a Kingdom that only grew in wealth and power, dominating the future like a beacon in the darkness. Only She could have foreseen what needed to be done and orchestrated it so perfectly.

  Tomorrow he would be King Hardknot the First and Allessia would be his Queen. Through their blessed union a line of Kings and Queens would stretch into the future, lighting the way of Honeyism to the eternal glory of Her name.

  Hardknot thought of all the blessings that lay before him, counting them one by one, but hidden within them still, he found the nagging doubt would not leave him be. An opposing force was still abroad in the Kingdom, of that he was sure. How else could such a calamity have happened in the Hivedom? And that being so, he opened his mind to call the danger to him.

  Chapter 42

  Pontinal Bartolamy watched as the jet-black carriage led by six grey horses thundered by. Through the glass he caught a glimpse of a face he recognised as clearly as a name upon a page.

  ‘Hardknot,’ he whispered.

  He watched as the carriage sped away; beyond it the silhouette of St. Parthanter’s Cathedral in the night sky a barely visible backdrop. At length, the carriage fell out of sight and hearing and he was alone once more.

  Since his encounter with Lord Hardknot on the balcony inside the Dome, Bartolamy’s mind had been cast adrift. So much was confusing, contrary, even in direct conflict, that his usually reliable intellect was struggling to cope. Hardknot’s Reformation was glorious, Honeyism filled with beauty, these were now inalienable truths; but behind the joy, he sensed a point of evil that would not let him rest.

  He no longer held any loyalty to the Holy Church of Afterwards; at last he had seen that with open eyes, eyes that could see true nature of things, and it was an abomination. Cardinal Oblong was an evil man of selfish disposition, of this he had no doubt. But did even such a travesty of life as His Mostfull deserve eternal torment? The very concept spun his head inside out as he struggled to find a justification for such a terrible and infinite damnation, a justification at one with his new Honeyist faith; but he could find none.

  He lifted his head to the far horizon where an angry orange glow still grew in the sky. Beneath it he saw the outline of the Grand Hive, now burning fiercely like a giant bonfire. Clouds of sparks swirled through the sky like flocks of burning starlings. The universe was shifting and he felt the ground give way like sand beneath his feet. On an impulse, he started to walk in the direction of the Palace.

  When he arrived, he stared up at the Queen’s Wing. Even in the darkness he could see the shadows of honeybees as they flew through an open window. There was no doubt that this was the room where Lady Allessia was being held.

  He had no idea why he continued walking towards her, or what he should do when he was standing before her. He had no course of action in his mind other than ensuring her safety. For the present moment, he reflected, that would have to be enough.

  As soon as the guards saw Pontinal Bartolamy approach they bowed and allowed him passage. As he entered the wide corridor beyond their station, a wonderful sense of calm fell over him. Several of the large floor to ceiling windows lay open and the sweet night breeze wafting through them comforted his tortured mind. He walked towards the distant double doors that led to the Queen’s Bed Chamber, no one challenging his progress.

  The Queen’s Own Guards on duty opened them as he approached, bowing as one and remaining still until the most prominent clergyman in the Kingdom had passed by. There was a solid thud and click as the doors were closed behind him.

  Even in the half-light from several glowicks, Bartolamy could see the richness of a Queen’s domain. He marveled at the glory of such beautiful surroundings; the fabrics, paintings, statues, and priceless artifacts, that would bring comfort to the new Queen.

  His attention was drawn to a soft buzzing and he walked towards a large raised bed that lay in the centre of the huge room. It was strewn with silks and satins, the outline of a slender body still visible in the twists and turns of cloth and a smooth indent in a soft eiderdown pillow. He saw several honeybees moving over the bed, their zig-zag movements awkward and their wings buzzing with short sporadic bursts of energy. Several of the windows lay open and he could see honeybees enter and leave the room, their tiny bodies flashing in and out of focus as they moved against the black sky.

  He heard a sound, and when he looked up a young lady entered the room, followed by several ladies he knew to be femones.

  ‘My Lady,’ he said bowing.

  ‘Pontifect!’ exclaimed Allessia, moving towards him with urgent steps. ‘I am so relieved you are here.’

  Bartolamy saw traces of soot still clinging to Allessia’s hands and face and smelt the dark aroma of smoke.

  ‘Are you well?’ he asked, concerned.

  ‘I have not gone up in f
lames, if that is what you mean. But…I do not know if I shall ever really be well again.’

  She bit her lip, her eyes welling with tears which quickly started to flow down her cheeks.

  ‘But what has happened? What upsets you so?’

  Allessia dismissed all her femones save Heather, who seemed to know instinctively what to do. As Bartolamy and Allessia moved to seats close to the window, she left the room, only to return a moment later with a tray holding a jug of water, two glasses, and some fresh autumn fruits. Heather left the room once more and they were alone.

  Bartolamy poured two glasses of the cool clear liquid, Allessia taking one and enjoying two large inelegant gulps. She lowered the glass to her lap, cradling it in both her hands as if a precious object, and then she looked up and fixed him with her bold violet eyes.

  ‘Oh, Bartolamy,’ she whispered. ‘I have seen…the very greatest evil.’

  Bartolamy sat forwards. It was not a statement he had been expecting and for a moment he was unsure what to say. Then Allessia continued.

  ‘Beneath the Grand Hives, there is a place.’

  ‘The Deep Hives,’ added Bartolamy. ‘I have heard of them.’

  ‘As had I. But I had no notion of their awful nature. And at the very greatest depth within them, there, I found my soulmate.’

  ‘Your soulmate?’

  ‘Her name is Lasivia, and she too is a femone like me. But pray, do not ask me now to tell you how I know this to be true. Please trust me.’

  ‘Of course, Allessia. Most willingly.’

  ‘Alone. Most cruelly deformed.’ Tears began to well in her eyes once more.

  ‘But, how is this so?’

  Allessia told Bartolamy all that she had seen and heard in the Deep Hives, Bartolamy listening and not uttering a single sound to stop the flow of words.

  ‘It was the hand of His Oneness,’ Allessia said at length. ‘It was he who caused her body to be used by dreadful creatures. Living within her; preying upon her; destroying her entirely. He had femones stolen from this place, hidden out of sight, to care for her. But why she was chosen to be so dreadfully defiled, I do not know. But now,’ she looked at the window where the raging fire could still be clearly seen, ‘at least she is at peace.’