Arakasi fell silent, for the trail crested a small rise, to cut sharply downwards into a valley tucked like a fold between hills. Through the arched boughs of a matched pair of ulo trees, they saw a sun-warmed meadow. The grass grew emerald, too meticulously clipped to be natural.
Arakasi pointed. ‘The hive lies ahead, beyond those trees.’
Keyoke commanded the soldiers to smarten up their columns. The company started forward in battle-ready array, with their Lady protected in their midst.
As her escort reached the edge of the ulo trees, Mara’s heart quickened with excitement. Through the raised shafts of the warriors’ spears she glimpsed the far end of the meadow, where a vast mound rose, ancient in that small trees had taken root and flourished upon it. An entrance was visible on one side, arches shored up with delicately carved stonework. On the beaten path that led inward, hundreds of cho-ja hurried to and from the hive, upon what errands only they knew.
Mara paused and commanded slaves to bring her litter. She might have been too excited to ride upon the ridge, but she would meet the cho-ja queens as Lady of a great house. As the bearers shouldered the litter poles once more, Keyoke and Arakasi marched at her side. Then all stood at readiness. One of the soldiers raised a battle horn to his lips and blew an announcement call. Then the Force Commander of the Acoma ordered Mara’s escort to step briskly from the shadow of the woods into sunlight.
Nothing changed at first. The cho-ja workers hustled about their tasks much as before, until the humans reached the valley floor. Then suddenly a dozen figures emerged from behind the right side of the hive. They raced forward like a herd of needra panicked by lightning, feet pounding upon the sod. ‘Warriors,’ Arakasi said. ‘Hold the men steady: this rush is probably a feint.’ Sweating slightly under his armour, Keyoke signalled the men. None readied weapons, though many might have questioned the prudence of the order, for the cho-ja bore down at a furious gallop. Closer they came, until the Acoma soldiers could see the sunlight gleam on the razor-sharp edges of their forearms. Then, when they were close enough to strike, the cho-ja veered off at the last second. With a sound like human laughter they ran off towards the hive.
Mara watched them go with a shuddering sigh of relief. ‘They are so swift. How did we ever manage to subdue them?’
Arakasi wiped his brow and returned an indulgent smile. ‘We never did, Lady. Humans settled land the cho-ja never wanted, until the queens found their hives surrounded. By then it was easier for both sides to make treaties than to fight. It takes skilled soldiers to face a force of cho-ja and survive. When aroused, they are efficient killers.’
As the retinue continued steadily towards the mound, more and more cho-ja appeared. Soon hundreds passed on every side, some with baskets strapped to their thoraxes, others wearing belts slung with tools. Aroused to curiosity by such industry, Mara peered through the curtain of her litter. ‘Arakasi, is this hive of normal size?’
‘A little larger than most, mistress, but not remarkably so.’
‘How many cho-ja live within?’
Without hesitation, Arakasi replied, ‘Twenty, twenty-five thousand.’
Mara was stunned. Before her lay a city in the wilderness. ‘How many will travel with the new queen?’
‘I don’t know. In the past, I think the hives would split when population pressure became too much.’ Arakasi shrugged. ‘Now there is little apparent logic in the decision to birth a new queen. For, despite their breeding continuously, the cho-ja control the hive’s numbers. Perhaps the old queen must reproduce herself each generation. Perhaps it is chance that brings a new queen. I do not know.’
Close at hand the mound seemed a symmetrical, steep-sided hill. The soldiers tightened formation, for the roadway became crowded. Here the grass had worn away to fine dust continually stirred by busy feet. Several times Mara’s party was approached by bands of young cho-ja. They pointed and stared with metallic eyes and chirped lively phrases in their own tongue, but the adults paid the visitors little heed. A band of workers scuttled past, carrying bundles of wood large enough to require five humans to lift, yet one cho-ja worker was sufficient for the task.
Then a band of young warriors came racing towards Mara’s party. Workers scattered from their path, bundles swaying, and jaws clacking a strange signal of dismay. Within a matter of moments the Tsurani found themselves surrounded. Keyoke called a halt. Dust swirled, and spear butts struck the earth in the formal stance of soldiers at rest, though the cho-ja appeared ready to fight. None was armed or helmeted in the manner of the guards upon the ridge. But with their powerful, naturally armoured bodies and razor-sharp forearm ridges, they would still make fearsome opponents.
Arakasi remained in position by the litter as Keyoke hastened forward. The Force Commander had barely reached the head of the column when a cho-ja charged. With the uncanny ability of his race to go from frenetic movement to absolute stillness, he halted scant inches before Keyoke, then stood there trembling, as if eager to fight. Yet when the cho-ja made no further provocative moves, Keyoke bowed with cautious courtesy. ‘We are of the Acoma,’ he announced. ‘My Lady of the Acoma wishes to speak with your queen.’
The cho-ja warrior remained motionless while the constant traffic of workers flowed by on either side. Tense and silent, the Acoma soldiers awaited any hint of threat to their mistress, while Arakasi advised Keyoke. ‘I don’t think these warriors understand Tsurani. This one here is barely mature. We may be forced to defend ourselves.’ Controlled but urgent, the Spy Master lowered his voice. ‘If the one in front attacks, the others may come to aid him. If we provoke him, they certainly will. Strike only at those who attack first, for some who come may be seeking to aid us.’
Keyoke returned a fractional nod. His hand lightly gripped his sword hilt, Mara saw. Yet he made no move to draw, even when the creature twitched his head to get a better view of the brightly armoured fighter. Long, tense moments dragged by; then another, larger, cho-ja arrived. Mara waited, edgy as her escort, as the newcomer pushed through the press of young warriors. It paused at the side of the one who confronted Keyoke, and shouted what might have been a command in a high-pitched clicking language. Several of the surrounding youngsters dipped their forelimbs and hurried away, but more stayed, including the one who blocked the trail. Without warning, the larger cho-ja reached out and seized the youngster around the middle of the upper body. He locked his limbs in an immovable grip, and for a moment the two cho-ja strained against each other, grunting with effort as their chitin grated together. The first cho-ja tottered; pulled off balance, he fell to the ground, where he thrashed for an instant in panic. The elder placed a leg atop the younger cho-ja, holding him down for a moment, then stepped back, allowing the younger to scramble to his knees. The instant he regained his footing, he spun and ran away, and the last of the young warriors fled with him.
The remaining cho-ja clicked apologetically and saluted. ‘Honours to your house, humans.’ Keyoke returned the salute as the cho-ja said, ‘That young one was unused to the sight of humans. He was ready to attack, and the others would have followed him had I not thrown him down.’
Softly, but so that all could hear, Arakasi said, ‘Cho-ja are most vulnerable when on the ground. They are extraordinarily agile, and terrified of losing their footing.’
‘That is true,’ agreed the cho-ja. ‘When I pulled the youngster over and held him down, he knew I was his better and he would not stand against me. I am Ratark’l, a soldier of the Kait’lk.’ He bowed in a very human fashion, then motioned for them to follow. ‘I do not know your colours, humans, but I can see you are not of the Inrodaka. His men wear the colour that can’t be seen, which you humans call red.’
‘We are