The Scarab Path (38 page)

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Authors: Adrian Tchaikovsky

BOOK: The Scarab Path
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Just like everything around here
, Che thought.

Another
boat came up beside them, the mirror of their own but twice as long, four
Mantids back-paddling to bring the craft alongside. Amnon was standing at its
carved prow, stripped to the waist and wearing only a kilt. Che heard Praeda
murmur, ‘Oh, grace and favour, look at him!’ in civilized horror. She kept
looking at him, though, Che noticed, and when she glanced away her eyes were
drawn back to him soon enough. A conversation with Manny recurred to her, and
Che wondered if similar word had crept round to Praeda.

The big
man grinned down at them. ‘Welcome!’ he said. ‘At last you are with us: the
hunt can begin. It is my honour that you have agreed to participate as bold
hunters along with us. In this way shall the skill and the courage of Collegium
be known.’

Che
grimaced up at him. ‘Captain, I think you should first let us know just what we
are hunting, and how to go about it,’ she said weakly. ‘We are rather new to
this.’

‘Of
course, of course. You should watch me make the first kill, perhaps.’ He put a
bare foot up on the side of his boat, scanning the riverbank beyond them, then
jabbing out a finger. ‘There, you see,’ he said. ‘They come to warm themselves
in the sun. Do you see them there?’

‘Fish
basking in the …’ Che could see nothing but rocks amongst the foliage, but she
heard Manny whistle in astonishment, and then one of the rocks opened a bulbous
eye to appraise her. There were half a dozen of them, the least of them the
size of a man. Slick-skinned, brown creatures with stubby front fins like arms,
and high-set, goggling eyes, they lounged half-in and half-out of the water.
One of them yawned, and its mouth was cavernous, the needle-sharp teeth
glinting in the dawn light.

‘Oh,
loose knives and bloody thunder,’ Manny said in awe. ‘They’re fish. Those are
the fish they’re hunting.’

‘Land-fish,’
Amnon said proudly, as though he was personally responsible for their
existence. ‘But we will not hunt these, of course. They are only young. It would
not be fair to pit our skills against them until they have fully grown.’

‘I want
to go on the barge,’ said Che, but the Mantids were suddenly thrusting the boat
forward, almost toppling her backwards. Amnon’s crew did the same, and she saw
a few other boats like their own coursing ahead over the water, moving beyond
the wallowing barge.

‘Catch
these!’ Amnon called out. ‘You must have the tools to hunt them!’ He took up a
leather-wrapped bundle that was as long as he was and cast it, with no
appreciable effort, across the water towards them. Manny took it full in the
chest and would have toppled overboard with it had Praeda and Che not grabbed
hold of his robes. With a certain avid interest he unwrapped it, spilling
arrows into the bottom of the boat. There was a brace of shortbows, too, curled
forward ready to be strung, and a spear with a barbed head attached to a neatly
coiled line.

‘Nets
and things,’ said Che pointedly to Manny. ‘What have you got us into?’

‘That
Amnon, he claimed it was fishing,’ the fat man protested.

‘Well,
to
him
, this probably
does
count as fishing,’ Che snapped. ‘We will keep well clear of all this hunting,
and Waste take the honour of Collegium.’

‘Agreed,’
said Manny, slightly shaken by this turn of events. Che sat back and put a hand
to her head. Land-fish stared at her with sleepy suspicion from the banks, and
so she turned her back on them, looking out at the other boats.

From the
far side of Amnon’s craft another boat emerged. It had two Mantids poling it
forward, but a third man was standing near the bows, spear in hand and cloak
billowing. It took Che a moment to recognize him.

Thalric
. And of course what she should be doing
now
, instead of performing this ridiculous charade, was
talking to Thalric and smoothing things over. But it would have done no good to
seek him out, she saw, because she was not the only ambassador to have been
invited on the hunt.

He
glanced over at her, and on his pale face she could see bruising, and her heart
sank.
Totho thought he was rescuing me
. Trallo had
explained to her how Thalric had taken her from the Fir-eaters, only to lose
her to the Iron Glove.
I am changing hands so often, they
should put customs duty on me
.

She
raised a hand to send a feeble greeting over the water. She saw him nod in response.
That small contact, the opening of negotiations, brought her a disproportionate
relief.
Has Totho now usurped him as the person I know best
in this city? Or do I know Thalric even better, at this remove? Thalric has
been drifting nearer, while Totho began close to me but he seems so far away
now
.

There
was a series of shrill whistles that Che could not locate. As they sounded
again she realized they came from beyond the river proper, amid the channels
and marshes of the delta which spread its tangled fingers from here all the way
to the sea. Amnon’s boat went coursing towards the sounds, and her own followed
under the swift, sure oar-strokes of the Mantis-kinden. She saw Thalric’s craft
leap forward also, his wings flickering to keep balance. There was another Wasp
sitting in the boat behind him, looking every bit as ill and miserable as Che
herself felt. She thought it might be the same man who had reacted so badly to
the Mantis statue, and wondered how he was getting on with their boat’s crew.

Two of
the little reed craft suddenly shot on to the broad waters of the river as
though they had been spat out, their occupants poling them with precise grace
and astonishing speed. There was a line trailing from one – Che could see it
cutting ripples on the water – it was attached to—

It was
attached to one of the land-fish, but a creature almost as long as Amnon’s
boat. Its maw, snagged by a harpoon head and gaping with fury, could have
swallowed Che whole. It powered over the mud and ferns, its stumpy front fins
granting it a startling pace, and then sloughed into the river with a bellowing
grunt. Amnon’s boat was cutting close, as the big man stood ready with a bow
strung and drawn back. For a second the fish was invisible in the brown wash of
the water, but something guided Amnon’s hand as he loosed the arrow into the
murk, and then the fish leapt to the surface to meet this fresh assault.

They want it in sight of the barge
, Che realized,
but still in the shallows, where it can’t escape
. Amnon
and the Mantis-kinden were playing a dangerous game, herding the enraged
monster up and down the river bank, not letting it slip into any of the smaller
channels, nor vanish into the depths. Time and again it hurled itself at
Amnon’s boat, but the Mantis crew pirouetted and sliced through the water,
always cutting aside from the creature’s furious charge. Everyone on the boat,
Amnon and his crew alike, remained standing throughout, as the big Beetle sent
arrow after arrow into the furious beast. It turned from him towards the other
boats, those fleeting little reed constructions, but they nimbly skittered out
of its path. Once it was too quick for them, its jaws slamming down on a
bundled stern. The Mantis poling the boat was in the air at once, wings
glittering, as the monster shredded her craft into scraps with mindless rage.

‘What a
barbaric spectacle,’ Praeda remarked, sounding disdainful, but she was
clutching tightly at the boat’s side. Manny just stared, silently, fingering
one of the bows they had been given.

At last
it was done. The cornered fish, jaws agape in threat, reared up out of the
water, its hide bristling with arrow shafts. Amnon held a spear now and took
precise aim, spinning himself completely around to give the cast more force,
yet barely rocking the boat as he did so. The heavy-headed lance plunged into
the monster’s throat, and Amnon leant forward to take hold of the butt and
drive it further in. The great fish recoiled under the shock of it, thrashing
down on to the mud, and Amnon took up the bow again. He sighted on the beast’s
eye, the arrowhead moving in minute twitches to track the creature’s death
throes. His fingers released the string.

Che
grimaced. ‘I think I prefer fishing the Collegium way,’ she said weakly.

‘Nonsense,’
Manny declared. ‘Can’t visit a foreign place and not try a few of the local
pastimes. String this for me, would you?’

One of
their crew took the bow from him and bent it back effortlessly, seeming to turn
the curved wood almost inside out before she hooked the string over the notched
end.

‘You’re
not planning to use that, are you?’ Che demanded.

‘Might
as well look the part,’ the fat man said jovially. ‘After all, I hear that
fish-hunting is a proper hero’s pastime, and I want it to be said that I did my
bit. A reputation for heroism around the city could work wonders’

‘You’re
drunk,’ Praeda retorted flatly. ‘Or you’re mad.’

‘I am
only slightly drunk,’ Manny assured her. ‘And, as to the other, neither you nor
I am qualified to diagnose. Let us hunt the land-fish!’

‘Let us
stay close to the bank,’ Che advised, ‘and watch, if you have to. While we’re
all on this boat, you’re not taking it near one of those creatures.’

The
other boats were splitting away now, some hunting down the channels of the
delta, swiftly lost to sight amongst its riotous vegetation, others coursing
across the clear water of the river, waiting for game to be flushed out. Che
huddled in her cloak. The land-fish terrified her, their bloody fate appalled
her. It was a very foreign land she now found herself in.

‘Remind me why we’re doing this again?’ Osgan complained. He had his arms
wrapped tightly about both himself and a bottle, but he still looked
uncomfortably sober.

‘They
wanted the Imperial ambassador to come hunting with them,’ Thalric explained.
‘They gave me a chance to sit on the barge and merely watch, but Marger and I
agreed it was not politic to choose that option.’

‘You’re
going to kill one of those things, are you? With just a spear?’

‘Spear,
sting,’ Thalric said vaguely. ‘Wings, too. We’re better equipped for this sport
than our hosts imagine.’

‘I’m not
the strongest flier.’

‘So long
as you can fly better than a two-ton fish, you’ll be fine,’ Thalric replied. He
was conscious of forcing the humour, but it helped. It gave him an act to
maintain, which meant he did not have to think about more awkward matters. He
was playing the role of Imperial ambassador, upholding the honour of the Empire
by showing these savages just how good the Wasps could be at whatever they
turned their hand to. That was easier than brooding over his revenge on Totho
of the Iron Glove, or reflecting on his recent conversation with Marger.

Marger
was up there on the barge, of course, since there needed to be someone to keep
an ear open for what the Ministers were saying. The Fly, Trallo, was there,
too, ostensibly as a servant of the Lowlanders, but then he was a servant of
Thalric as well. He had many pockets, Trallo, and he could take anyone’s gold.
Useful, but not a man to trust.

At
Thalric’s direction, the two Mantids guided their boat into one of the
channels. There were several reed punts moving ahead, hunting out a land-fish
of suitable dimensions. Smaller beasts flopped and grunted on the mudbanks,
staring back at the intruders with their huge eyes, raising bright red fins in
warning.

A chorus
of whistles from somewhere ahead signalled the scouts finding suitable quarry.
With a word, Thalric bid his crew urge the boat forward. ‘I think Imperial
honour will be satisfied by our driving one of the beasts into the river,’ he
decided. ‘Let Captain Amnon deal with the bloodletting.’

They
noticed the commotion ahead, then the little boats were hurrying back towards
the river, while the humped back of a fish, fin raised like a banner, came
surging through the shallow water after them. The Wasps would be too late,
Thalric guessed, but he would be able to make a show of it, anyway, perhaps
burn a few holes into the beast as Amnon dispatched it. His boat reached the
fish’s wake, abruptly jolting over the disturbed water so that he had to use
his spear to push himself off a stand of reeds and keep his balance. He saw
others rushing out amidst the green, following the hunt on foot as they dodged
between the giant horsetails and rushes.

He had
turned to order his crew to chase the beast when the image of the runners
struck a chord in his mind.
Where have I seen that?
followed by,
What was I seeing?
Those dashing
figures, skipping swiftly between mud and greenery,
walking
on the water
.

The
first arrow knocked the Mantis at the bows right off the boat. Thalric saw him
arch backwards, mouth open in silent surprise, and then vanish into the waters
with barely a splash. Thalric’s wings flared, and he kicked off from the
rocking craft. Another arrow sped across the water, and he heard Osgan cry out.

He saw
them clearly then, or some of them. They were skipping over the water,
crouching low from cover to cover. He had assumed they were the local Mantids
at first, but they had long limbs and short bodies, all angular elbows and
knees. They wore cuirasses of darkened metal scales, and they all carried bows.
He saw three, in that brief moment, and one was aiming up at him already.

He let
his sting speak for him, the old reflexes coming back. The arrow shot off to
one side of him as he shifted in the air, but his own aim was true, the impact
of his fire striking the man between neck and shoulder. In an instant the
assassin was gone, his Art dying with him, the water receiving him at last.

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