This seems an appropriate time for her passing, the Chamberlain thought. The orange ogre has begun its climb into the night sky, soon it will cast pallid shadows across the land. Not an evil sign in itself but not propitious either. What is more troubling are the reports of daemons about in the far provinces.
“My Lord?” asked one of the pages, bobbing her head submissively. Others hung back, filled with trepidation.
“It is finished,” the old Chamberlain said wearily. “Send the announcement to the royal princesses.”
“Yes, my Lord.” The page bowed her head and backed away.
And so begins the mad contest for the throne of Formicidae. The thought caused the Chamberlain to hang her head. I had hoped to die myself before the old Queen passed. Well, nothing for it but to face the coming chaos.
A sound caused the overseer of the royal household to look up. A keening sound, rising and falling in pitch, filtered in from outside the palace. Word of the Queen's death spread rapidly throughout the capital. Her many subjects would mourn her passing tonight; by tomorrow they would all be cowering in their homes afraid of the violence the struggle for succession was sure to bring. Over the next week or so the old Queen's scent would fade, making the colony ready to accept a new queen—which ever of the princesses wins the race, and can hold the palace long enough to establish her own scent as dominant.
The Chamberlain shook off the numbing lethargy she felt in her soul—there was work to be done.
“Captain of the Guard!” she called. “Turn out the House Guard and secure the palace. And summon the nursemaids to carry away the remains of the Queen.”
The Queen's body servants had already begun the gruesome task of dismantling her corpse and removing it from the throne. Her flesh and organs would be hauled way to the nursery where they would be fed to the last of her children, still larvae—the Queen had laid no eggs for over a month.
It has always been thus, thought her faithful servant. She who gave all of us life continues to serve her offspring, even in death. The old Queen was kind and wise, may the gods grant the next Queen those same traits.
Outside the keening grew louder.
Princess Timushi's Palace
The eldest of the old queen's daughters was pacing the floor in the highest room of the redoubt. Disturbing news had arrived from her spies in her closest sister's fiefdom.
“Read back the message again, my Lord Castellan,” commanded Princess Timushi.
“Yes, Highness,” the manager of the royal residence replied with a deferential dip of her antennae. “Castle on fire. Attacked by flying dragons. Princess Shōshi feared dead.”
The Princess cocked her head in a moment of thought.
“Alert my body guard, we are leaving.”
“My Princess?”
“Out the tunnel to the hidden gate,” Timushi clarified. “Majordomo, round up the chosen servants and make haste. Have them bring the supplies that were prepared for our journey to the capital.”
“Yes, my Princess,” the old head of the household staff replied with a bow. “But tradition says we must remain here until word of the Queen Our Mother's death.”
“Tradition is a guide from the past,” the Princess replied curtly. “To blindly follow it when it may endanger us all is foolish. Now move, and keep the staff quiet about it. I will not sit here awaiting the same fate that befell my royal sister.”
The Majordomo bowed again more deeply, and backed away toward the chamber door. Once she had gone Timushi addressed her assembled advisers.
“How long does it take a messenger dragonfly to reach us from the capitol?”
“Ten hours, perhaps nine with a favorable tailwind, Highness,” answered the eldest adviser.
“And from Shōshi's fortress?”
“Perhaps four.”
“So, since Shōshi's fortress is roughly the same distance from the capital as we are and we have not received official word of our mother's death, the attack was launched before the dragonflies from the capital could arrive. The attack can only mean that my other dear sister, Reishi, knows the Queen has died—I cannot believe that even she would violate the laws of succession so blatantly. It also means that whatever foul sorcery befell my sister Shōshi might be well on its way to visit this castle.”
“How do we know Reishi was behind the attack on Shōshi's fortress?” asked the Castellan.
“You have read the reports from our spies in the north as have I. They say she has been consorting with daemons, hideous creatures that stay in the shadows and posses terrible magics. No, Reishi is behind this, which is why we must hurry. We need to be well away before dawn.”
“But these dragons attacked in the night, Your Highness. Surely there is no safety in the darkness.”
The Princess’s antennae twitch, a sign of royal impatience.
“Reishi has her spies here as we have in her city. We need to escape and be away from the city before her eyes on the palace can notice and send word. Now stop dawdling and move!”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
As the others scurried from the Princess's chamber she motioned the Castellan closer to her. The warrior/adviser moved within whisper range.
“Have the watch light the mourning fires. The Queen is surely dead and it will be no dishonor to her to light them before the official message arrives. The commotion her passing will cause in the city will serve to mask our departure.”
“A wise precaution, my Princess. What of the males?”
“What? Oh yes, I suppose it is expected to bring some on the journey. Round up a handful of the useless fops and bring them along. But be quick about it, my back is twitching as though my wings are emblazoned with a target.”
“By your command, my Princess.”
The Castellan acknowledged her Princess's orders with more of a head bob than a bow, and hurried from the chamber. Timushi followed closely, trailed by her body servants. They would descend the hidden stairs to the castle's storage cellars, where the entrance to the hidden escape tunnel lay. With any luck they would all be outside the city wall and under cover of the forest canopy inside half an hour.
HQ, Fakkaa Expeditionary Force
The force commander clicked the long digging claws of his main arms against each other in a display of irritation. Word of the death of the old Queen had arrived from his observers at the capital city almost eight hours ago, yet the Princess's entourage had not departed the jumbled trash heap she called her castle. In frustration he snapped at his aid.
“Lieutenant, what is keeping our pet Princess from departing? The old bug has been dead for hours!”
“She refuses to leave the palace until some kind of messenger arrives bringing official word of the Queen's death, Sir.”
“Bah! It would be easier to just look for the artifact thing ourselves, and kill any insects who get in our way. Any news from the aviation unit?”
“Yes, Sir. The aviation commander reports that the attack on the nearest sister's palace was a success—they left the palace engulfed in flames and our observers on the ground report no signs of the local Princess fleeing the city.”
“Damn this ban on radio communications, who does the high command think is going to intercept our messages?” the Commander fumed. “No matter, what about the airstrike on the remaining Princess's position?”
“The attack aircraft returned to base to refuel and rearm, and are now en route to the second target, Sir.”
“ETA?”
“Roughly twenty minutes.”
“Good, good. Too bad we have only three attack craft or we could have hit both targets simultaneously. But we still should be able to strike the second Princess's castle before they know what is happening.”
“Yes, Sir. It will be dawn soon, so we will be able to get more accurate damage assessment reports on both targets shortly.”
“Excellent.” Operations seemed to be going well, which helped brighten the Commander's mood. “Once our positions are obs
cured by the bulk of the planet get radio reports from all units—the Fleet Admiral can't complain about us breaking communications silence if he never hears the messages.”
“Yes, Commander.” The aide saluted and headed back to the radio shack to await the dawn.
Outside the City Wall, Princess Timushi's Palace
The royal party exited the city via the secret portal—an ancient sally port constructed centuries ago and long forgotten by most. As expected, the Princess's guard was well deployed and efficient in the discharge of their duties. The household servants and functionaries were less orderly in their egress from the palace. The least tidy component of the column were the five male dandies, who chittered and complained until the Majordomo threatened to have them bound and gagged. But then, what could you expect from a gaggle of useless males?
The winding column was passing over the nearest ridgeline, several kilometers from the city wall. The Princess and the Castellan stood to one side, observing the procession and looking back at the palace through a break in the jungle canopy.
“Sad to think that this is the last time I will see the palace,” the Princess commented. “It has been my home since I was a pupa. One way or another, I shall never see it again.”
“Bigger things await you, Your Highness,” said the Castellan. She kept her compound eyes on the raged column of servants passing by, each bearing food and sundry items for the journey. “We are away in good order, my Princess. In less than a fortnight we should arrive at the capital.”
The Princess sighed.
“I knew this day would come eventually, the day when the Queen Our Mother would die and one of us would have to take her place.”
“My Princess, you are certainly the best qualified to take her place, but then, I may be a bit biased.”
“I'm sure both my royal sisters feel the same about themselves. And since one of us will gain the throne, and the others will die in the attempt, our motivation is quite high.”
“The possibility of impending death does tend to focus one's attention, Highness.”
The Princess laughed. She really liked the blunt spoken Castellan but held few illusions. A Queen had many subjects but precious few friends. If one of her sisters ascended the throne all hands would turn against her. Driven by duty and pheromones, even her trusted friend would help hunt her down and kill her; that was a princess's lot in life—rule or die.
Dawn was breaking and the skies were clear save for a few fluffy clouds. A low rumbling echoed across the plane like distant thunder but, unlike any thunder Timushi had ever heard, this thunder did not fade. It grew louder.
“What is that sound?” asked one of the passing servants, looking up at the sky from beneath her burden of cooking pots and utensils.
“Nothing to be concerned about,” the Castellan snapped. “Keep moving, quickly now.”
The servant shifted her bundle and trudged on while murmurs spread through the column. Even the stoic warriors looked about and fidgeted nervously. Above the city a winged object appeared, flying through the air faster than any dragonfly.
“Your Highness, I think we are about to witness the fate that befell your royal sister,” the Castellan commented flatly. As the head warrior spoke a second, and then a third flying object came into view, circling the city like flies around a dung heap.
One of the winged objects dipped toward the palace towers and spat out a much smaller object. Trailing smoke like a fire-arrow, the object's flight ended at the tower of the redoubt, the highest point in the castle. A few seconds later gouts of flame burst from the palace windows and bits of masonry exploded into the air.
“What evil sorcery is this?” the Castellan hissed, hand moving reflexively to the pommel of her long sword. The two other flying objects also made passes at the castle, resulting in more explosions and spreading fire. Loud reports were added to the constant roaring of the flying attackers.
“I expect that those are the dragons that destroyed Princess Shōshi's fortress, my Lord Castellan,” Timushi replied evenly. “It would seem that the stories about Reishi consorting with daemons are true.”
“Indeed, Highness. If you had not possessed the presence of mind to order the evacuation of the palace we would all be dead right now.”
“Flattery does not become you, my Lord.”
“It is not flattery if it is the truth, my Princess.”
Timushi dipped her antennae in acquiescence. “As I said, tradition can kill you.”
“Obviously, a castle is no defense against such foes,” the warrior observed. “We all live and learn.”
“Or we don't live long. I fear flying dragons will not be the only deadly peril on our journey to the capitol. We must hurry, there is no time to waste.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” the Castellan agreed, turning to the members of the entourage halted before them. “Enough gawking! Move along, back under cover of the forest, lest the dragons come after us!”
Solider and servant alike scurried over the rise and down the far side of the ridge, seeking the psychological safety of the forest canopy. Princess Timushi glanced back at her former home one last time before continuing down the slope herself. Behind the marching column the castle burned, sending pillars of black smoke high into the clear morning sky.
Chapter 11
Princess Reishi's Party
Official notification of the Queen's death finally arrived at Reishi's palace setting off a chain of events that culminated in the departure of the Princess's entourage for the capital. This column was not nearly as well organized as Princess Timushi's expedition. It seemed that Reishi was taking her entire palace staff with her; servants and drudges struggled along carrying all manner of useless brick-a-brac.
The Princess's personal retinue consisted of her castle guard and assorted hangers on. Her closest advisers jostled each other, competing for proximity to the royal personage, though they were careful not to collide with the dark figures closest to the Princess. Two creatures clad in hooded robes that flowed to the ground in a vain attempt to disguise the decidedly non-insect shapes within. “Daemons” the natives said to each other, never above a whisper, and never within earshot of the Princess or her sinister escorts.
“I must counsel we move with all possible haste, Your Highness,” said the shuffling figure on the Princess's right. Its voice was harsh and mechanical, as if not of this world.
“We are progressing quite well, Commander, considering. Besides, I thought your flying mechanical dragons took care of my two royal sisters.”
“The nearer target was most certainly destroyed before any could evacuate the strike zone. The strike against the more distant target, however, may have come too late. Observers on the ground report activity beyond the west wall of the city that may have been Princess Timushi escaping.”
Reishi chittered in agitation.
“I would not put it past my elder sister to have set out for the capital early, she was always a schemer, bending the rules to suit herself. She was Mother's favorite when we were pupae.”
“Nonetheless, Princess, we need to proceed with urgency if we are to reach the Capitol within a fortnight. I have soldiers scouting ahead; they will ensure we encounter no surprises on the way.”
“Very good, Commander. I will instruct my people to pick up the pace. We certainly don't want dear Timushi beating us to the throne.”
“No Highness,” the Fakkaa officer replied, “I have scouts out looking for your sister's party. If they escaped the attack on her palace and are on the road to the capitol, I will see to it that they encounter an ambush that will delay them at the very least.”
“It would be best to kill her outright. She is dangerous my royal sister. She may surprise even you Commander, your sorcerer's tricks not withstanding.”
“Trust me, Highness. If she escaped the aerial attack she will not escape an ambush by my soldiers” Any more than your primitive warriors could resist my commandos, you supercilious royal twit.
<
br /> The Fakkaa vanguard force had arrived on the planet nearly a year before, the first of their kind to cross the void between the local stars. The first of their kind to venture into space for any purpose. They were a pitifully small force with which to take a planet. Even smaller than initially planned since one of the spaceships crashed on landing, killing all on board. Half of the rotorcraft and twelve commandos perished even before reaching their objective. A total of thirty six highly trained commandos, a trio of attack aircraft and a single transport with its support personnel survived.
The Commander bit off the words he longed to say, knowing that eventually, when they no longer needed the insects, he would crush Reishi's head between his own two digging paws. That pleasant thought soothed him as the column continued to plod on towards the capital, nearly two weeks journey away.
Princess Timushi's Party
The column made good progress, given their early start. The Castellan called a halt as the day's light faded into dusk. The Majordomo bustled about, giving instructions to those setting up the royal camp, ordering only cold rations be distributed. No cooking fires or torches were permitted, just in case hostile eyes sought them out.
“How was the day's progress, my Lord Castellan?” Timushi asked, settling her abdomen onto a camp stool.
“We have done well, Highness. At this pace we will be in the capital in nine days, ten at the most. We only lost three stragglers: two wandered off the trail and fell into a honey pitcher, and one was devoured by a thousand-legs.”
“You sent others to gather what they carried?”
The Queen's Daemon (T'aafhal Legacy Book 2) Page 10