Serpent's Blood

by Brian Stableford

  The mound-queen seemed to be giving this due consideration, but after thirty seconds or so had passed she shook her head.

  "We would prefer to send our own ambassadors," she said, 'but we thank you for your counsel. We shall talk at greater length. There is more we need to know before we act. "

  Lucrezia breathed a deep sigh of relief, although she knew that the victory she had won was a small one. The queen signalled to Jume Metra as she spoke a casual, cursory signal which presumably confirmed an instruction given long before. Metra stepped forward and took the princess's arm. Lucrezia looked up at the faces of the drago mites which flanked the throne at their huge, staring eyes.

  Their steady gaze stirred uct a horrid memory, and made her shiver.

  These creatures may < seem human, she thought, but they live among drago mites and I still cannot tell for sure whether they are masters, servants or equal partners. Have I said and promised far too much?

  She could not tell.

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  9 the hue and cry which had spread through the camp like wildfire was slow to die down, although the drago mite warriors kept their distance.

  Carus Fraxinus was quick to get the column under way again, but no one was surprised when the warriors began to move with it, matching its pace. Jacom quickly came to the conclusion that Andris Myrasol had been right, and that they were in fact being herded. He rode to the big wagon to suggest to Fraxinus that it might be better not to yield to such pressure.

  "What do you suggest we do, captain?" Fraxinus retorted, obviously having given the matter much thought.

  "Have you counted them? Have you assessed the strength of those jaws? Would you rather be obstinate and challenge them to attack us, even though we have not the slightest desire to stay where we are? If we have to fight, let's do it when they try to bar our way and hold us back. We might stand a slender chance of breaking through their line and running southwards with all the speed we can muster; we stand none at all in a pitched battle."

  It was all true, and Jacom didn't try to argue. He dropped back, and took care to study the shadowy forms which prowled around and behind them. It was obvious that they would be difficult to repel if they chose to attack. A line of cavalry bristling with half- pikes used as lances might cause them some confusion, but if it came to a charge the drago mites would surely burst through. Men with spears and swords fighting from the wagons might inflict a good deal of damage on warriors swarming around them, but they couldn't hold out for long.

  Fraxinus was right the only chance the members of the expedition had of escaping the drago mites now that they were so close was to ride like the wind, and not stop until their pursuers 39i

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  were far behind. That would

  mean abandoning the wagons, and the donkeys, and almost all of their supplies. Those who escaped- and not everyone would- would be left with what they could carry, and nothing more.

  No one promised him anything better, Jacom thought. He learned that it might be possible to cross these hills, but no one guaranteed that he wouldn't meet drago mites or that he could walk his carts and a donkey-train across as though it were a well- worn highway. But he could take little or no pleasure in the thought that Fraxinus, like Jacom and Checuti and Princess Lucrezia, had bitten off more than he could chew.

  It was oddly comforting to know that he was no longer entitled or expected to shout orders to his men. They had changed allegiance, and must look to someone else for guidance now. His only responsibility was to himself.

  Given that his was one of the better horses, and that he had very little in the way of luggage except for his sword, he would be as well placed as anyone if and when the time came to make a bolt for it. There would be no reason for him to waste a single backward glance . . . except, of course, that poor Koraismi had only sat on a horse three or four times since Jacom had undertaken to teach him to ride, and might be easy prey for those massive jaws.

  The caravan moved on, and' the drago mites followed. Another horse fell into step with his own and he looked around. His mouth curled into a reflexive sneer as he saw that it was Checuti. Andris Myrasol and Merel Zabio were close behind him close enough to hear anything that was said.

  "I ask you again to make a truce with us," Checuti said.

  "Surely this is a common enemy fearsome enough to make us allies."

  "What point would there be in that?" Jacom answered.

  "Have you not heard? The guard is disbanded, and we're all equals in the face of disaster. If they attack, it'll be every man for himself."

  "If you think like that we're lost," Checuti answered.

  "Our only chance is to work together, to formulate a plan."

  "A plan!" Jacom laughed derisively.

  "I think they can be disabled," Myrasol said, speaking loudly to make sure that he could be heard.

  "The problem is, it requires a simultaneous attack from two sides. They can only turn their heads one way at a time. If one man draws their attention, another 392

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  can get in close enough to hurt them. They're heavily armoured about the head and neck, but their legs are jointed awkwardly. They can stand on the back four and rear up, but if their hindmost legs are crippled they're in trouble. The horses can out manoeuvre them, but only if we fight in tight-knit groups. It's our only chance. There's no point in waiting for them to attack- we have to carry the fight to them, and soon."

  "What does Fraxinus say?" Jacom asked.

  Checuti leaned over, to speak more confidentially.

  "Fraxinus be damned," he said.

  "There's only a dozen men who count in that kind of fight. What do Captain Cerri and his sergeant say?"

  "I can't speak for Purkin and his men," Jacom replied, stressing the word his very faintly.

  "But Jacom Cerri says that he's not about to take orders from a thief and a vagabond prince."

  Checuti scowled before turning in the saddle to look back at his companions.

  He shrugged his shoulders, as if to say / tried.

  "No one's trying to give you orders, captain," the amber called out impatiently.

  "We're just trying to save your rotten life, and ours with it. Look up there, man that's death stalking us! It's time to put your resentments aside, no matter what burden they've built up to."

  Jacom had an uncomfortable feeling that the amber was right. He wished that he'd been the one to think of a plan- however hazardous or optimistic- so that he could have gone to them, and demanded that they submit to his command. He couldn't turn around now, having lost everything he ever had or desired, to join forces with petty thieves. It was too much to ask of any man- even a man who rode in the shadow of unearthly death.

  "Go make your peace with Purkin," he said bitterly- feeling uncomfortably like a fool.

  "Make your plans with a man of your own kind."

  Checuti and his companions fell back. The drago mites marched on, like soldiers on parade-drill. That was exactly what they were, Jacom realised.

  They were in strict military formation, awaiting orders but from whom?

  Phar's salve might still keep us safe, Jacom thought, clutching at straws.

  Perhaps they can't come any closer than they are while we're wearing Phar's salve.

  The big wagon, which was leading the column, ground to a halt.

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  Jacom was still so close behind it that the momentum of his horse carried him past it, and he had to rein in sharply. So did Kim, who had been riding on the far side of the wagon.
The second wagon stopped in its turn. So did the drago mites Six human figures stood in the path of the column, less than thirty mets away. They wore no armour and carried no weapons, but Jacom was more inclined to take that as an insult than a reassurance. So far as could be judged from their beardless faces they were all women.

  "The warriors will not attack you," one of the women called out. "We mean you no harm."

  Why, then, are the warriors here at all? Jacom thought but he said nothing.

  He looked around at Fraxinus, who was standing up on the bench in front of the wagon. Ereleth had climbed out to stand beside him.

  "We are not here to fight," said the drago mite-woman.

  "We too are warriors, but we come unarmed, as a token of good faith. The mound-queen would like to talk with you. There are matters of importance to be decided, and time is short."

  Jacom was surprised but only momentarily when the reply that came swiftly back was: "My name is Ereleth, queen of Xandria." When he turned round he could see the frown on Fraxinus's face, but it was plain enough that the trader had been preempted, and dared not begin an argument now as to who might have the right to speak for the company.

  The mound-woman, after a moment's hesitation, said: "We greet you, queen of Xandria. Will you come to meet' our own queen?"

  "Your queen would be very welcome to come to us," Ereleth replied, with an abundance of false courtesy.

  "We would be honoured to receive her, and to talk with her."

  "That is impossible," the other replied flatly.

  "We beg you to come into the Corridors of Power. No harm will befall you there, so long as the drago mite queen maintains her reign. We promise you that.

  Since you are a queen, you may bring as many daughters as you wish, and your two drones. We promise you safe conduct, but you must come with us now.

  Time is pressing. "

  Indeed it is, Jacom thought. The end of the world is nigh I can believe it now.

  "Is Princess Lucrezia in your care?" Ereleth asked.

  "Is she safe and well?"

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  "One called Lucrezia is with the queen," the mound-woman replied curtly.

  "She is safe. You will see her, if you come. The queen will hear what you have to say."

  "Very kind of her," muttered a female voice from a position close behind Jacom. Merel Zabio, her cousin and Checuti had all moved up to his shoulder again.

  "I shall be honoured and delighted to pay our respects to your queen," said Ereleth silkily. She must have known that she had little enough choice in the matter, having decided to appoint herself spokeswoman and declare herself a queen.

  "I shall bring but one sister, and two drones."

  "What's a drone?" Merel asked. The question was addressed to Myrasol, but Jacom was too quick for him.

  "Drones are their males," he said.

  "As in a beehive, they presumably keep a few for breeding purposes. She means that she'll take Dhalla and two men with her."

  "Chaos and corruption!" Myrasol murmured. The vehemence of the curse surprised Jacom for a moment, until he realised the way the amber's train of thought must be running. The next thing the big man said was: "You're not coming. Even if Ereleth asks you- even if she tries to order you- you're not coming." He was speaking to his cousin.

  "Where you go," Mere! Zabio promptly replied,

  "I go. Who else is going to look after you in there?"

  It must be a good feeling, Jacom thought, to have a lover as brave and as determined as that. He presumed that Myrasol thought the same, although propriety naturally demanded an ungracious and ungrateful response to any such reckless offer.

  "Andris Myrasol!" Ereleth called out.

  "Checuti! To me, now."

  How ironic it is, Jacom thought, that although she really is the queen ofXandria, there are only tiro drones in the entire company who 'd answer to her command and certainly not out of loyalty. He noticed that she had not called out for Merel Zabio - but that Merel went along with Andris anyhow.

  He wondered whether the queen might order her away again, given that she could hardly reckon her a good ally, but Ereleth said nothing. Perhaps she didn't care to reveal to the waiting warrior-women that her authority was so fragile.

  Jacom studied the huge head of the drago mite warrior which 395

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  stood

  alongside his station, twenty mets away. He imagined thrusting with his sword at the monstrous eyes, wondering if the creature could use its whip-like antennae to parry or whether it would have to meet a blade with its heavy jaw. Surely the jaw could not move as quickly as a trained fencer but would it have to, since it seemed so massively solid? If the monster reared up, it could lift its eye beyond the reach of a sword-thrust. Would the part of its underbelly thus exposed be vulnerable to a steel blade, or would the point simply bounce off? The legs must be vulnerable, if only at the joints but how many would have to be crippled before the creature lost mobility, and what would happen to a man who got close enough and stayed close enough to deliver more than one disabling blow?

  The great head moved forward very slightly while he watched, as though nodding in contemptuous acknowledgement of his speculative stare. A man couldn't win such a contest, Jacom decided. Two men might stand a reasonable chance of hurting a single drago mite warrior, if they worked together as Myrasol had suggested, but the odds would still be stacked against them if the warriors attacked in force. How badly had the drago mites and their human allies suffered, he wondered, as a result of the blight? Might they be so reduced in strength that they dared not risk the loss of a single warrior?

  While these thoughts were going through his head, Jacom had urged his horse forward a step or two, without quite realising why. It was as much of a surprise to him as it must have been to Myrasol and Checuti when he heard himself say: "Wait! I'll go with you. Let Myrasol and his cousin stay behind."

  He could imagine that every pair of eyes in that column must have turned on him then, but he could only see Ereleth's, and her expression was thunderous.

  She didn't want the mound-women to think that her authority could be challenged, and she didn't want him to think it either. For a moment, he thought she was going to say no but then she smiled.

  "Thank you, captain," she said.

  "But I'll take Myrasol with you, if you don't mind and his little cousin too.

  We have to keep up appearances, don't we?" She gave him no time to say anything in response before continuing.

  "Never fear, Checuti. We'll return long before the worm's hungry daughters begin to peel away your 396

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  fat. You'll have your own chance to be a hero I promise you that."

  "I only asked for a truce, captain," Checuti murmured, in a tone too low for anyone but Jacom to hear.

  "I didn't ask you to throw yourself on your sword to save me from a fate worse than death."

  / didn't do it for you, Jacom thought. / didn't even do it for Myrasol or the girl. I did it for me. I did it because it's my last chance to be brave, or to be anything at all. I did it because I'm stark raving mad.

  In the meantime, he urged his horse forward a few more paces and then dismounted. Andris Myrasol and Merel Zabio followed him. Dhalla helped Ereleth down from the wagon and then came to join them, carrying her heavy spear.

  Andris Myrasol didn't look quite so big next to Dhalla - and Merel Zabio looked positively tiny, in spite of the fact that the old queen was even tinier. And I'm in the middle, Jacom thought. Neither one thing nor another.

  When they moved off into the starlit night, the drago mite warriors stayed where the
y were, keeping watch over the caravan. Jacom didn't doubt, though, that there would be more than enough drago mites inside the mound into which they had consented to be taken.

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  A,"

  10 andris was initially surprised by the dimensions of the tunnel into which he and the others were led when they entered the drago mite mound. Because the drago mites themselves were so big he had expected the tunnels to be wide and high, but in fact they seemed unreasonably low and narrow. He had to duck his head in order to pass along it, and there was insufficient room for Merel to walk comfortably beside him, as both he and she would have wished.

  It was plain that the drago mites never reared up while they were in the outermost tunnels of their mounds, and never had to pass one another. He concluded that the monsters must employ distinct entrance and exit routes.

  There was considerable difficulty with visibility here. The walls were streaked with some kind of light-emitting substance but its growth was meagre and' intermittent. Fortunately, the downward-sloping floor was even and the gradient gentle. The slightly curved walls were very smooth. When Andris placed a hand on a wall to steady himself rather gingerly, lest he injure the light-producing organisms which grew there '- he discovered that it was warm.

  The further into the mound they. went, the warmer the walls became. The humidity of the air also increased by degrees.

  As they marched through the dark tunnel in single file there was little or no conversation. The sound of Ercleth's voice floated back to Andris once or twice, but her questions went unanswered. He had one of the mound-women in front of him; she never looked back, and he made no attempt to communicate with her. Merel was directly behind him, but she was subdued, perhaps anxious about his reaction to her defiance of his instruction to stay behind.

  With the best will in the world, he could not be glad that she had insisted he would far rather have had himself alone to worry 598

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