Rain pattered softly across the jungle clearing.
The invaders were already there when Shena and Ferelios arrived with a small armed escort.
Between the two groups sat a single black wooden table beneath a faded multi colored canvas. Thick, heavy droplets pattered loudly against the cover as it struggled to keep the torrent at bay, drooping lower from the sheer weight of it. Beneath it lay the enemy commander. He looked as if he had been waiting patiently for quite a while for her to join him. His fingers were interlaced with each of his hands patiently against his knees, but he clearly hadn't been idle in preparation. A small curved golden kettle and two gold chalices had been placed neatly out across the table in preparation for their arrival. Whether he had personally placed it or one of his servants had, Shena would never know. They had come expecting an ambush. Instead, they found a gathering.
At least he's polite. Shena amused as her retinue grew closer. It had been a long miserable walk to the arranged meeting sight. The leaves and twigs of the foliage floor crunched and clung beneath their heels with each step further into danger. Her eyes of blue and black glanced warily every so often at his guards off to the side, holding spears and stolen firearms. Not saying a word. Not blinking. Just watching on the sidelines in case someone threatened their father. No one had ambushed them the moment they emerged from the clearing, so that was a good sign at least. But Shena, Ferelios, and everyone who had volunteered to come here despite the risk would all remain on guard until they were safely back inside the fort. To do otherwise would be to invite disaster. There would be no banners. No flair or trumpet of announcement. No weapons drawn or orders to attack. Only trust in sacred ground between enemies.
Or the illusion of it.
It would have to do.
There, beneath the shade of the canvas, the opposing contingents yielded a small patch of dirt to a law older than war itself. Shena stood face-to-face with her opponent while Ferelios waited off to the side behind her, leaning against a support beam with his arms folded lazily. He would let her do the talking, but jump in if things went badly. Both of them knew when his sharp tongue did not belong. If anything, it would likely get them killed the moment the first semblance of a snarky syllable came out. This was to be her arena alone. Neutral ground between the two enemies. Two leaders. Two vastly different cultures. But both with the same goal in mind after tonight. Victory. He gestured toward the empty chair. She seated herself.
"Captain." The ant said.
She blinked.
Shena was taken aback, though she did well not to show it. She had not expected him to speak Oceanic so fluently. Come to think of it, she had not expected him to speak it at all. For a moment, neither moved.
"I take it you are the one who leads?" he asked again in her language. His head tilted slightly as he studied the medals adorning her uniform. His gaze then shifted to the soldiers standing behind her, whose hands never left their weapons at the sight of him. "Am I mistaken?"
Shena had to act. "I am now." Was her reply.
"I'm impressed," he said. "My compliments to your leader. He trained you well."
"He's dead. I'm in command now."
"I'm aware. But to lead a swarm? One so young? That is a heavy burden for anyone to bear."
"We make do."
"Clearly."The general smiled. Or what his species considered to be a smile.
The silence lingered just long enough for Shena's eyes to wander beyond him. She had a little look around. His chosen clearing was little more than ankle-deep mud churned by rain and the marching feet of armies that had come and gone. It was more of a pit to be honest.
"You could have picked a better spot." She flicked mud from her tail off to the side.
The general said nothing. His own feet shared the same mud beside her. He did not seem to mind.
"It will suffice."
A faint smile tugged at the corner of Shena's mouth. It couldn't be helped.
Mud washes off. Standards don't.
At least they shared one thing.
"Well met, General. She gestured to the kettle. Pour."
He inclined his head and reached for the kettle to let it boil. Igniting a faint blue flame to hiss and flicker to life underneath. Shena slung her rifle off her back to Ferelios and leaned in closer, and the army ant who looked as if chiseled from tan sandstone and left to bake in the sun afterward, then leaned over to brew the tea for both of them. She watched in dry silence as he conducted the tea ceremony.
Two arms rested on the table while the smaller pair deftly ground herbs and spices in a wooden bowl. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. Shena sat patiently, palms folded and her tail curled against her lap as proper manners dictated, even among enemies. She had standards. She wouldn't abandon them just because there was a war going on. So she had come wearing her old dress uniform and coat. Completely impractical for the jungle, but the ragged uniform she'd worn for the last week would not do. Her heeled black boots were already caked in mud. But she would look the part she needed to. Representing her men and the civilized nation they came from as much as she could, given the difficult circumstances.
The general filled Shena's cup before his own. Then he began to stir. Around and around the wooden teaspoon went, circling steadily against the gold rim until the herbs all but vanished beneath musty-smelling vapor. Slowly the ant set the curved briq teapot aside and slid the captain's goblet across the table for her in silence.
And simply waited.
She raised her own cup. Felt its warmth as it shone like the sun in her hands. Its gold matched exactly to Shena's own. It unnerved her.
"To your health, General." Shena raised a gracious glass to him.
The ant raised his own to his honorable guest.
"And to yours captain."
The two opposing commanders clinked the golden glasses and raised them to their mouths slowly.
Is he actually expecting me to drink first?
Her heart began to thump in her chest as the liquid approached her lips. The tea trembled, but her hand was sure and steady. Shena eyed the strange brown tea as it swirled in her goblet beneath her, but dared not drink yet, not knowing what it possibly contained. She hesitated, and the general noticed that hesitation immediately.
Poison? The general asked plainly. His voice carried neither offense nor amusement. Only curiosity.
Forgive me, general. Said shena, lowering her goblet to meet his empty gaze. "But army ants aren't exactly known for their hospitality."
That we aren't. The general replied. Not denying it. Shena couldn't tell if he was joking. She was beginning to suspect he didn't know how.
The ant general motioned for one of his many daughters to come forward. A girl no more than twelve by shena's estimates, but it was difficult to tell as they all looked the same. She stepped beneath the covering and without fear she drank first from the cup before handing it to Shena to meet with her approval.
"You brought your daughter?"Shena asked amazed.
"I brought several." He swirled his own chalice to let it cool a little before looking upward. We have them to thank for staying dry.
Shena looked up.
The canvas was a tapestry of the conquered. Captured banners from many nations stitched into a single canopy—the Republic's three golden scallops on navy blue, the United Jungle provinces's bright green hexstone on dark verdant, even the compass rose of the long-fallen Desert Conclaves among them.
Even worse.
Scraps of blue Republic and jade volunteer uniforms were clearly visible in the seams. The slashed tunics still bore dark, dried bloodstains that no amount of rain could wash out. The newest additions. His children had stitched it together over many years. A family chronicle of victories fashioned from the banners and uniforms of the fallen. It grew larger with each year.
If the fort fell, it would grow larger still.
Shena steadied her breathing. Outwardly, she remained composed. She wanted to close her eyes and look away. But she steeled herself and made herself look.
They were all being sheltered by the same trophies of war.
May we continue? Said the general. Not understanding her reluctance. Not understanding his cruelty. He was not impatient. He simply wished to begin.
Shena forced her attention back to the table, studying both father and daughter for even the slightest hint about the tea. Was this their way of toying with her? Every eye was on her as she hesitated over the cup, not knowing what it possibly contained. Above her, rain pattered gently against the patchwork canopy, continuing to keep her dry.
Would her own coat one day be stitched into it as well one day?
Shena didn't respond. She sniffed the warm vapor from the cup, then drank. It tasted rough against her tongue as she struggled to swallow it. It tasted of earth and gravel. She grimaced unintentionally despite trying not to show it.
Problem? The general asked after taking a first sip, letting her enjoy the tea first. He sounded concerned. Whether it was feigned or not she could not tell. His voice was rarely elevated.
It tastes bitter. Shena admitted as she cleared her throat.
It is made from roots from the reservations.
Why roots? She asked.
He shrugged. Roots are reliable. And we didn't have much to work with. We make do with what we have. Not with what we want.
Shena considered that and tried to be brave enough to take another sip of whatever this was.
She coughed and raised a gloved hand to cover her mouth for fear of being impolite. The general sighed and snapped his fingers, whispering something in his native tongue to an attendant.
Khar vek.""Marak uth."
The young ant girl nodded and departed hastily back in the direction of the bivouac alongside a few older sisters for protection. Shena couldn't understand what he had told her to do. None of them could, and that worried her. Was this a trap in earnest? As her throat still burned from the tea, she grew more cautious with each passing moment during the tense silence that followed, as both leaders waited patiently for the girl to return from her father's arrand before negotiations resumed. The sound of harsh rainfall hitting the leaves and tribute tarp above them was adding nothing to softening the already cold morning atmosphere. Whenever it stopped raining in these lands, an even stronger downfall usually made up for it. More than once shena had to resist the urge to reach for her saber but she refused. If someone broke this parlay. She would not be the first one to do it.
After what seemed an eternity of staring at her own face through the twin black mirrors that he considered his eyes, the girl at last returned. Emerging through the mist soaking wet with a gleaming bottle of Savannah wine cradled carefully in her arms for fear of dropping it. Never opened. Decades old. The general was likely saving it for a special occasion. No occasion was more fitting in his eyes than this, Shena imagined.
He popped the cork himself and carefully poured the captain's glass for her. Shena looked skeptical again as he held it out to her. He sighed.
The same daughter tasted it, shena sniffed, drank and genuinely enjoyed the taste. Now this was much more to her liking. The gold liquid felt of warmth and the setting sun vanishing over the ocean horizon. It reminded her of home and what they were all fighting to get back to. She nodded her thanks to the daughter and the girl actually smiled back. But shena could see that the girl was shivering from the harsh downpour she had endured to get here.
Shena's hand already found the clasp of her own coat.
Before she could unfasten it, an older sister crossed the tent and wrapped a faded Republic banner around the child's shoulders. The girl leaned gratefully into the warmth before being led away back to camp.
Seeing she no longer needed it, Shena released the clasp. The general noticed her intent but said nothing.
"And you? Said the general. He looked off to the side, offering to pour a sample in the wooden bowl for Ferelios to try. For any of them to try.
"I'm not thirsty."Ferelios responded.
"It's very good tea."Said the ant in earnest.
I imagine it is. Said Ferelios. I can smell it all the way from here.
"If I wanted you dead, I would not need tea to do it. The general assured. It would be done openly on the battlefield weapon in hand. You each deserve that much. Poison is a coward's weapon.
I'll pass all the same. Ferelios politely declined. It's meaning is wasted on me.
The general considered him for a moment, then lowered the bowl without protest. Pity. He muttered. The ant didn't even bother offering a sample to the jade volunteers. It was their homeland he was invading, after all.
You speak Oceanic very well. Shena said, admittedly impressed as she crossed her legs further to get more comfortable and resume the dialogue. She had brought a pocket book translator, but clearly it would not be needed. Most army ants could not even read from what she heard in old libraries. This would be much simpler. "Thank you for this vintage. It's very good."
I take pride in learning my enemies. The general nodded without boasting before setting the bottle aside. Every aspect of them.
Self taught? Shena inquired.
He nodded again. Every man has his particular passion. Mine is to improve. I've picked up a few things. Here and there.
Like the tridents I imagine? She said. Pointing to the diagonal leather strap across his chest with her goblet, which wasn't exactly subtle. She had pretended not to notice. But others behind her had not stopped glaring the moment they had spotted them. For someone who had called this meeting in the first place this general did not know how to read a room very well. Or how to pick appropriate attire that would not alienate him.
The general looked down, as if forgetting they were even there in the first place. Across an old brown leather strap were dozens of red trident and jade hextstone patches. Royal marine patches. And jade hexstones of the newly reforged jungle nation. The same kind Shena and her party currently still wore on their sleeves.
Those don't belong to you. Shena informed sharply.
"No? He asked perplexed. "Who did?"
"Marines. And brave Soldiers.
What is a marine? He asked curious. As if he genuinely did not know.
A rank that is earned. A person who gives their lives in the defense of others.
Then they would be proud to have their memory carried further.
A heavy silence filled the air. A few of the soldiers behind Shena showed their fangs, tusks, and Canines, gripping their weapons tighter instinctively, but refrained from interfering. But just barely. Shena's eyes wandered further down toward his waist and that's when she noticed something else familiar. A pair of gold pommel sea sabers. Republic-made. Reserved for officers. That immediately caught her attention. As well as larger two curved Savannah sun sabers accompanying them.
You shouldn't be wearing those either. They aren't decorations.
I agree These are weapons.
Why carry them?
He shrugged. They are well made. Useful things should be held on to.
Shena grimaced and looked closer. She soon wished she hadn't.
One of the sabers bore a familiar name scratched into the guard beside a faded crimson sword knot. Shena had not expected to see that sword ever again.
Taladus. The letters seemed to blur for a heartbeat. For an instant, everything around her disappeared.
Warm blood was running into her gloves.
Screams.
The smell of smoke. The sound of chittering.
The endless fields of Greengrass.
Tan and crimson pouring down from the tree lines by the thousands, just waiting in ambush.
An old swordfish holding the line.
A shark at his side.
Then the spear came.
The one meant for her.
Commander Taladus never hesitated.
Shena could still see the old swordfish lying on the stretcher afterward, stubbornly clinging to life. Even with what little time he had left, he was still planning ahead, thinking only of the survivors and urging them onward. He knew his wound was fatal though. As Marea fought to save him and the others gathered in silence, all Shena could do was apologize. For not doing more. For not being fast enough. For surviving when he hadn't. For not... She never found the words. Then, as his strength finally began to fail, he reached for her sleeve.
"Just Get them home." His voice was barely more than a whisper. She promised him she would. His grip weakened, and he finally let go. The moment he closed his eyes, every face turned toward her. Ferelios, Marea, Kiros, Nassau, Salo, Kaelan. The Jade volunteers. Everyone who was left. Nobody spoke. Nobody saluted. They just waited. Behind them, rifle fire and war horns drew closer. The enemy would not wait. There would be no time to mourn.
"Spike the guns." The words tasted like ash.
For a heartbeat, no one moved.
Then they did.
One by one along the line, the batteries splintered beneath smoke and flame until nothing remained but twisted iron and blackened carriages. The enemy had won the battle, but they would not have a single gun to their name. As the survivors hurried on, Shena lingered just long enough to slip Taladus's pistol back into his hand, curl his fingers around the hilt of his saber, and lay it across his chest for soldiers luck. Then she turned to join the others. She did not know what happened to him in the end. They escaped Greengrass. He did not.
She had kept her promise so far. Now she just had to keep it that way.
Her eyes settled once more on the battered saber across the table. And the man who had now claimed it for his own.
He had children."
Shena hadn't realized she'd spoken aloud.
Thel waited before replying. His eyes had never left hers once.
So he told me. Said the general.
Shena went very still.
For one terrible instant, Shena wanted to flip the table over and strike him. She didn't.
You are an officer. Behave like one.
Her teeth clenched beneath a courteous smile. One hand curled into a fist against her lap. Before she realized it, the fist had begun to rise toward the edge of the table. She caught it with her other hand before it did something stupid. Her tail shifted slightly, but she pressed an elbow against it as well to keep it well in place. As was proper. But beneath all of it, something twisted in her chest just looking at him.
Rage.
The general had not said it with malice. Only as a plain admission, which somehow made it worse. His black, bulbous eyes revealed nothing, and yet they saw everything.
He had seen the fist also. He said nothing.
Sensing the patches and swords were making them uncomfortable. The general removed both and handed them to one of his teenage daughters for safekeeping.
I meant no insult. The swords are how I defend myself. And the red forks and green tiles are simply how I keep track of my children. It helps. I have many.
"You keep trophies?" Said Shena. Still doing her best to remain calm.
He shook his head. No. I keep reminders. If they bring a brood token of favor. It is my duty to accept. A father should be proud of his children's work.
They were good people. Shena said.
The general kept a steady face. Not denying her.
So were my children who died upon your walls.
Shena had no answer. She had not expect that.
"May I inquire your name?" He asked.
Shena had not expected that either. To change the subject as easily as turning another page before he had finished reading it. She kept her eyes fixed upon the general's skull-like face, searching for something—anything—that betrayed the intentions of the man beneath.
Nothing.
What are you looking for?
But if he had questions, then she would have a few of her own. Shena drew a slow breath and straightened her posture as Mother had taught her.
One must remember her courtesies. No matter how unpleasant the company.
"I am Shena de Carcharis."Of house carcharis. Proud daughter of one ser admiral Cassadon de carcharis and lady Serena de Carcharis.
The general tilted his head and leaned in closer. House?
Yes. Said shena proudly.
Why would someone name a house? He asked plainly. Wanting to know more.
I beg your pardon? Said Shena.
A house. Why name one? It's a house.
"It...isn't a literal house."Shena tried to explain.
The general looked off to the side, as if he genuinely did not understand.
Shena sighed. She blinked. Struggling to find the right answer in a way he would understand.
"It's a surviving branch of an old royal bloodline. Descended from the ancient great white island kingdom that helped found the republic.
That just made him look even more confused now.
"A bloodline? "Explain."
An old family line. She tried to explain.
...
Shena rubbed the temples of her forehead. This was getting them nowhere.
"Just Think of it like a small swarm."
The ant's eyes lit up. He finally nodded.
"Ah.""A swarm.""Yes. "Why didn't you say that first?"
Shena sighed.
Hmm..interesting, said the general, taking a quiet, long sip of his tea. He finished his cup and reached for more.
And what is your name, If I may be permitted to ask? Said Shena. He clearly had some intelligence and personal history. And this was a good opportunity as any to learn more about her enemy rather than just a face.
The general considered this a moment.
Thel.
Thel what?
Thel.
Might I inquire as to what that means?
The one who leads.
Shena found that odd immediately. Most army ants who were given command carried titles to distinguish themselves. Thel Markok. Thel Katai. Thel Kayuk. Thel Rusha. The one who breaks. The one who surrounds. The one who takes. The one who silences. Names Shena knew by heart from raid reports and the bloody reputations attached to each. Names that jungle villagers living beyond the safety of city walls out in fields had learned to dread.
But the man before her preferred simply Thel. Or at least he claimed that was all he went by. As if the role mattered more than the ant who filled it.
Refreshingly... humble.
If it was to be believed at all.
Not that he was above material wealth. Every man had his vices. And his currently sparkled in the morning mist before her.
Shena rotated the goblet in her hand and studied it with a subtle growing smile across her face as a response formed in her mind. A cutting retort she could use against him to see if he was truly invincible beneath that hardened exoskeleton of his. The ornamentation glimmered as she rotated it. It was beautiful. Eastern made. And felt very out of place considering the setting. And the unassuming origins of who it belonged to. Gold chalices. Gold weapons, golden wine, you pick your masters well I see. She said in an amused knowing manner. You hate them, and yet you take their money all the same.
Thel's mandibles flared a touch wider briefly the moment the words had left her lips. He tried to conceal it but it was too late. Shena had noticed it. That struck a chord. Good. Anything dealing with the reservations and savannah everyone knew was secretly backing his invasion despite condemning it, was a deep wound to his pride. She would remember that.
I have no masters. He reminded, his tone of voice still carefully controlled. Only those who owe my people. We are here by choice. But you are correct. It pays to have valuable, powerful friends. And we both benefit from the rewards, as you can see. He gestured to the bottle. Would you rather I have come with the tea alone?
I'd rather your armies not have come here at all. Many people would still be alive otherwise.
And yet here we will remain.
Not for long. Shena eyed him.
Another silence followed between them.
The general took a final sip of his second serving of tea. When he was done he reached for more initially, then decided to try the Savannah wine to compare instead studying the gold liquid that shone like the sun into his goblet before drinking. He grimaced from the influx of sweetness. Shena imagined had never tasted anything like it before, and a few of the Republic soldiers smirked at him trying to act civilized only to stop and back away when a few of the general's warrior daughters snarled in defense of their father. Shena kept a straight, steady face throughout. She would not mock him. But neither would she garner sympathy from him. They were still enemies before they met. They would still be enemies after. No amount of pleasantries or drink could change that. When he was done, he turned back to face her.
Your eyes. He asked intrigued. By birth?"
Shena did not answer. She merely sighed. Of all the things to ask about.
Have I caused offense? I apologize if I have. "I've just have never seen such eyes. They are remarkable to say the least.
"You should focus more so on the swords we carry, and less so on my eyes."
"I can do both.
I fail to see how my past has any connection to why you called me here.
He shrugged. It does not. I am merely pointing out that they are rather unique and am curious of the origin. Champions with unusual markings became legends. In the arena, such eyes would have made you stand out as a favorite. Very famous. I mean that as a compliment. The bigger crowds the better.
Arena?
The general seemed to perk up. Immediately, Shena felt like she had regretted asking no sooner than the words left her lips.
Yes the arena. Thel said as if genuinely excited for the first time in the entire conversation. He set his glass aside to explain further. So much so that he actually huddled over the table. Even some of his children leaned in. They clearly loved hearing about his stories.
He talked in more detail than she would have cared to hear. about how army ants, after proving their worth through great deeds, would enter gladiatorial games to honor their respective queen and compete for her hand. Of how as a young man, he had entered a great sandy arena with one hundred other champions, but only five among them remained afterwards to kneel before her and profess their devotion How he had been named as one of her royal guard husbands. Privileged with giving their life for her if need be, and siring another strong generation of children to bring glory, honor, and wealth back to enrich their hive. Going on and on why it was such a rare honor not afforded to many. One that he was immensely proud of, even thirty years later. He seemed to look back fondly on those days. So he was somewhat nostalgic. Another thing to remember Shena thought. After he was done with his reminiscing, he finally remembered what he had asked about in the first place. So he switched back to ask about her mismatched eyes again without skipping a beat. Shena, in contrast, did not feel such the need to share.
"It's a private matter. She said firmly. And we shall leave it at that."
The general paused and nodded before taking another sip. "Fair enough." He would not pry further into either of their pasts more than necessary. And for that she was thankful. Very thankful. But enough small talk. Deciding formal introductions and quaint small talk were at an end, Shena then turned her attention back to the general himself. And more importantly, why he had wanted to meet in the bloody first place.
Why did you ask for me. Said shena.
To talk. "I dislike sieges." He stated.
"Because they're difficult?"Said Shena.
"Because they're boring."The ant said honestly. "I confess I was hoping you'd leave me a few republic guns." "So I could have taken the fort by now"
Shena allowed herself the faintest smile.
"Glad to disappoint you then."
Heh. The ant said.
He refilled the captains wine for her. She allowed it.
"So I assume you're waiting for reinforcements then? Asked Shena.
Thel continued sipping the savannah wine calmly. He had adapted to it immediately.
"I am."
"They'll arrive sometime soon?
"Eventually."
Shena grimaced. he hid his cards well. "Why haven't you attacked?" She asked.
The general's wide eyes stared beyond her. As if contemplating or stalling for something. Rain pattered softly against the foliage behind him as the tea and wine in the chalices rattled beneath them both. Whether he was deep in thought or staring into an empty void, she could not tell.
"Why haven't you attacked?"Shena repeated. This time a bit more sternly.
The ant studied beyond her, in the direction of the forts outer walls. As if imagining them or already deconstructing them in his head.
Why did you ask for me personally? She finally said.
He shrugged. To talk. and not let this tea set go to waste.. He replied softly. He took a slow sip. Above and beyond them all they could both still hear the rhythmic distant thunk thunk of the bridge workers echoing off the gorge and valley walls. The general gestured toward the sound with his chalice. You are fixing an escape hatch. A sensible move. But wood and rope take time. Time your laborers do not have.
Maybe I'm smarter than I look. She replied. It will suffice. A bridge does not have to be pretty. It only has to work. It is the best engineering anyone could come up with in such a short time.
I sincerely doubt that. The general said, before taking a sip.
Shena scoffed secretly. The audacity of this man.
If you are so impatient. You are more than welcome to test the walls again in person. My men so enjoy the target practice you kindly provided before.
I could. But will I? Thel shook his head. No. I don't think I will.
And Why not general? Too cowardly?
Far from it i'm afraid. I'm too sensible. Because attacking would be stupid. You are clearly formidable with your spinning guns. Therefore, sending more of my children to their deaths in exactly the same way as before is unwise. "Dying for nothing is pointless." "War is how we survive." It has been for over ten thousand years and will remain so long after both our names have faded from memory. A leader who spends children carelessly will eventually run out of children. Because One warrior can mean the difference between victory and defeat. Every soul serves the hive. "Dead soldiers don't capture cities."
So what then? You'll just sit there sipping tea while waiting for reinforcements then? To starve us out?
He set his glass aside, pressed his hands comfortably beneath his chin. And looked her dead in the eye.
I am waiting for progress.
The words felt heavy as they drifted and were lost in the air. Shena felt a cold looming sense of dread wash over her that she couldn't explain. He was already planning something. She knew immediately. But what? She looked down, the teacups rattled slightly from the vibrations of the rain. She found that odd.
Are you not afraid of holding up the line behind you? Whether or not you will be the first to reach the capital in time?
He shrugged. The other thal's can move ahead. I do not mind this. They may get there first. But I will arrive with my army intact to ensure the city falls. I am content to save my strength here until this matter is resolved.
But for how long? She asked.
Long enough. I assure you.
Her eyes narrowed. Every day you remain here gives the republic and its allies more time to regroup.
Every day I remain here gives my army more time to gather its strength. We have food. We have time.
Even with the pressure to move on?
I can survive criticism if I deliver results. I am a patient man.
Patient? Since when had army ants ever tried patience? That was as foreign to them as the concept of calling it quits. Why was he so content to just sit in the mud and do nothing while other armies surpassed him. All of the other swarms had either stalled or were making rapid advances overland over who could claim the most plunder and reach the capital first in the name of their queen. And yet here he was far behind the rest, calmly sipping his tea in the rain while the world burned around him.
Then why call this meeting in the first place general. If you can just starve us out, stay in your tent and I'll stay in mine. It would certainly save us both the trouble of coming all the way out here.
Then we would never have been able to meet. I find myself enjoying your company well captian. You are very pleasant to talk to.
Amusing. The thought of you hasn't crossed my mind at all. Was her retort.
He laughed. Or at least his species version of a laugh. It sounded more like someone being strangled, to be honest. Shena could not tell if he was laughing at her boldness or genuinely amused by her, despite causing his army such a delay.
Are you recovering well? He asked pleasantly. Pointing to the fresh scar across her snout.
Shena was growing irritated by his constant drifting of the subject matter she wanted to discuss. But she recentered herself. Refraining from instinctively covering her face. Keeping a cool head and not rising to the bait or showing any signs of vulnerability or irritability, or least of all impatience.
As much as can be expected, she replied with a fake smile she had learned to use well. One of your sons gave me quite the scare a few days ago.
Not as much as the one you gave him I imagine. Said the general, gesturing behind with his thumb.
Shena couldn't help but smile for real at that thought. So he did have some charm with words after all, which was admittedly unexpected.
Shena glanced over the genera's shoulder and sure enough the same exact ant was there, only now with a missing antenna, glaring at her. No not glaring. Practically fuming. Anger was a universal emotion regardless of species and it looked a delicious color on him. She nodded her approval to him. His inability to interfere on the sidelines as he clutched tighter to a spear was immensely satisfying to her. She was not above a bit of healthy gloating. But she remembered to focus to what really mattered. She turned back to face the general.
You could just leave you know. Said Shena. Take the long way around. Would certainly be easier.
Life is not about what is easiest. Said thel. That is no justification to turn back.
Neither is coming here. Said shena. No species has the right to enforce its will on others.
They can if they win. Said the general.
Shena scowled. She was beginning to dislike this man again.
"When will it be enough?" How many of your children have died in this pointless crusade of yours already?
"One thousand, five hundred and twenty two."Said thel without hesitation.
Shena's stomach tightened.
"How many are left?" She dared to ask.
"Eighteen thousand, four hundred and seventy-eight.
No. That couldn't be right. He was lying. He had to be. Republic estimates placed ant losses across the jungle much higher than that. In the tens of thousands since Greengrass. Ferelios had flown nightly trying to confirm it. The numbers were imperfect, but even their lowest estimates should have been staggering.
But those were coalition losses.
Not his.
So either he was lying...
...or he didn't care if she knew.
Eighteen thousand. Started with twenty.
Oh, shit.
After everything they had done to him, almost his entire army remained fit to fight. And here she was leading less than four hundred still standing in his way.
If he had just given her his army strength. She didn't know if she should thank him for his honesty. Or curse him for giving her more reason not to sleep soundly tonight.
"You keep track?" Shena asked, calm as a stream. Internally, she was pure panic going over the falls.
Always. I may not remember all their names. But I remember them.
"And you're not angry?"
"Why would I be? Thel said simply. They honored the hive."The dead are forgiven. It is the living who must still prove themselves by finishing what they started so that it was not in vain.
But so many have died already.
Yes. And many more will follow. I have accepted that burden. I hope one day you are able to as well.
I understand well enough, Shena told herself.
She hoped that was true.
Rain continued. It kept getting worse. Shena took a deep sip of her goblet. Then another gulp for the nerves. Just because. Thel watched in silence. His black eyes lingered on the dark circles beneath hers as she drank. Hardly surprising. Anyone could see the toll involvement in this war was taking on her. But he said nothing. He simply observed. When she was finished. She held the empty cup in her hand but did not refill it. She was done negotiating. Now was the time to demand they all leave. Shena gave her final terms. She considered them more than reasonable.
You will withdraw. She ordered. Take your armies. And leave. Save your children and everyone the trouble of being here. Go home General. We will not pursue you.
The general looked as though he might accept. His gaze wandered to his children gathered around him—the ones who had followed him thousands of miles, across deserts and plains and jungles, in search of a new future. For one fleeting moment, Shena hoped concern for them might be enough. For any outcome that was better than the final confrontational slaughter she feared was inviable. One chance. That was all she was asking for. To save the lives of so many people on both sides.
Thel turned back to face her. And she knew.
No.
One word. That was all it took. It was so simple really.
You stupid, ignorant selfish idiot. She cursed. You're going to get us both killed.
You will not surrender then? Shena said.
I have many options at my disposal, Captain. Fleeing is not one of them. No. We do not run. This is not our way. There is nothing left for us on the reservations. That chapter of our life is behind us. So this will be our home now. We do not make excuses. And we do not return empty-handed. We simply deliver results. That is all.
The republic is not your enemy.
You are in our way. You refuse to move. Therefore, you are our enemy. My own terms are equally simple. So I shall only make this offer once.
He set his glass aside.
Surrender the fort captian. Stand aside. And let us pass. None of you will be harmed. Resist further and the outcome will not be well. This I guarantee. This is not your war. You do not have to stay here and die for these people. He gestured to the jade soldiers. Ragged and steadfast in the defense of their new country that was already being threatened. Soldiers who without republic support would have had their country overrun by now.
Every war is our war. Shena Said. That is the burden we carry.
Thel studied her for a moment.
That burden will crush you.
Silence followed. Shena could not say he was wrong. It irked her. Somewhere overhead thunder echoed faintly.
Then you and your children will die in these lands general. And you will be the cause of their suffering.
Thel just looked at her. Denying her peace.
Then that is to be my fate.
The way he said it at the end almost sounded mocking in Shena eyes. Even now, he never gloated. He just chose what he said very well. Just enough to cut, but never to risk retaliation. He would make a great politician if he had been born elsewhere.
The rain continued its downpour on the tarp. And finally shena decided she had had enough of this farce. It was worth a shot. Shena set it aside her cup. Wishing she were just a bit drunk right now to be able to further endure this man's arrogance and help dull the pain in her ribs. But she would refrain. This charade was almost over and soon they would be back at the fort now that negotiations had failed. That is if the general let them.
Very well then. So what happens now? Shena asked. Direct slaughter? I go for your throat while you go for mine?
No.
No?
"I have a proposal."
Shena raised an eyebrow. "Should've brought more wine then." She smirked.
"Amusing." His expression never changed. "But not what I had in mind."
The daughter holding her father's swords came forward and slowly he drew one of his sabers from the scabbard. Behind her, several soldiers shifted uneasily. Ferelios reached for his saber. Shena didn't. For a moment it looked as if he would cleave it toward her head as he held it in the air. Instead he planted its point of the dormant black blade to plant into the earth between them both. Shena's own eyes reflected back at her in the cool dark metal.
"I propose a duel."
He glanced in the direction of the fort with one raised finger. One day. No blood. No sabers. Let both sides rest, tend to our wounded and recover our dead. At dawn, we settle this once and for all. Both our warriors have done enough fighting. It is time we volunteer ourselves in their place to ease their burdens. So one way or another we may both leave this accursed place
A duel? You must be joking. Of all the ant's why did she have to be stuck with the one who actually was willing to think.
Yes. A thurukai. As we call it. A warrior's role is to fight. A father's to guide. But every so often a father must educate in person in front of his children so that the message is better received. And to see if a father is still worthy of leading at all. If you win, I will take my army to move elsewhere. But if I win, you stand aside and let us pass. I leave the choice to you. If you accept, then you will choose another champion to stand with you. We will fight at dawn tomorrow. When you are ready and rested.
Champions? Shena asked intrigued. Plural?
Of course. I have four hands as you can plainly see. Thel raised his arms and wriggled his fingers. It needs to be a fair fight. And you'll need every advantage you can muster. I assure you. You will need it. His tone was not arrogant. It felt brutally honest.
Shena's mind considered the proposal carefully as everyone waited in silence, watching her. Hanging on to her next word as if it would determine their fate. Dawn. That was twelve hours away. By midnight the structural beams would be locked in place. By three in the morning, they may finish on time. The demolition times would have the last of the sparkpowder tucked into the base of the stone collums. Charged and ready. If they accepted, it gave them more time to set the trap. And she feared they may not survive another assault already. They were dangerously low on ammunition. Not that she would ever admit it. If they charged again. She did not know if they would deliver salvation again. A truce was just what they needed. But there was just one tiny problem. She did not trust him. Not in the slightest.
May I concur with my men?
Thel nodded his approval. Of course. Take as much time as you need.
Shena rose and stepped over to the others. Their conversation was too quiet to hear what had been said. All the while thel just sat there patiently for them to finish. He never leaned in once.
Ferelios whispered beside her.
"Whatever you decide," he said softly, "we trust you."
The others nodded in agreement.
Shena returned to her seat.
A chivalrous proposal she said. Keeping her tone perfectly formal. You sure you won't grow restless in the night, general? That is if I were to accept at all?
Not at all. His mouth widening into some semblance of a smile. I sleep quite soundly when I know what tomorrow will bring. Now, do we have an agreement? He stood over her for the first time in the meeting and extended a black three-fingered hand.
Shena hesitated. This was the moment. The moment that would determine if they lived or died. If they ever saw their home again. As the two enemy groups held their breath's. She felt the full weight of this choice upon her. She was so tired. Tired of seeing the people she cared about die again and again in this stupid but necessary war. Tired of this responsibility she hadn't been nearly ready for. But most of all terrified she would fail them when they needed her to succeed most when they were so close. But she knew this was the last option available to her. Beating him at his own game. But this was game she knew she had been prepared all her life to win.
Captain shena stood beneath General thel.
And made her choice.
The general's grip felt like stones placed slowly upon her as They clasped forearms, elbow to elbow. This would give them enough time. And finally being rid of the mounds of the dead outside the walls would be a welcome reprieve. But she hoped it was enough time to set the trap. Please let it be enough time.
Dawn. She reminded. We will not open fire on any of you until then.
Dawn. He accepted. I will send only camp daughters to recover our dead from your walls and a small group of first spears to help. They will be all unarmed. I trust you to ensure you'll keep your men in line on the wall
I will. You have my word. So long as your own troops behave.
Thank you captian. I will ensure they do. Until then. Take solace where you can find it. Rest. Feast. Enjoy the time you have. Make use of it.
I most certainly will general. But not in the way you think.
The party of soldiers turned to take their leave but not before the general offered the remaining contents of the bottle to them. Saying they should enjoy their last night well. Ferelios accepted. But as shena turned to leave. The general gave her some final words.
"You know captain."
Shena glanced over her shoulder to face him. He was cleaning up the tea set."What?"
"I feared you'd be disappointing."
Shena narrows her eyes."And?"
Thel gives a small smile. He looked up to face her.
"You aren't."
Shena gave him nothing else that needed to be said. She left the general to his tea and ventured back the way they came. The only sound that could be heard was the gentle patter of rain falling on leaves in a land that was not theirs to call home.