The Scarab Path

The attackers had mostly stopped shooting now, and instead were forming up a line of shields, preparing to rush in and finish the job. Meanwhile the automotive's driver was pointedly letting the steam engine whine and rumble, as if trying to get the idea of escape across. Che looked down at the snapbow, glinting fully loaded in her hands.

If only I could. But it was a deadweight, useless to her. She dropped it into the automotive's waiting hold.

'Look at them!' Stenwold was shouting, pointing for the benefit of the Vekken envoy, and Cheerwell suddenly realized what he meant. The line of attackers, who were moving in even as the Collegium guard tightened around the automotive, were all Ant-kinden. Specifically, they were Ant-kinden of Vek.

'They are a detachment from Tactician Akalia's force,' the Vekken — their Vekken — explained. 'They are merely obeying their last order, which was to harass Collegium in any way possible.'

'But they shot you!'

'My people are skilled soldiers.' The Vekken sounded insulted. 'I had no time to announce my presence to them before they commenced their ambush.'

Stenwold was shouting now. 'Then tell them you're here, you fool!'

'They are already aware,' said the Vekken, as another volley of crossbow bolts drove the Collegium men further back towards the vehicle. 'They have advised me to leave before they begin their shield-charge.'

Stenwold reached for him in frustration, but then thought better of it. 'Tell them that the war is over. You're an ambassador — Vek is sending ambassadors to Collegium, for Waste's sake!'

'I do not have authority to countermand a Tactician's order.'

At that moment Stenwold was physically shoved further into the shelter of the automotive's hatch by the injured soldier. 'Tell them!' he roared desperately. 'Don't you think that if your King was here he would order them to stop?'

The idea of second-guessing the Monarch of Vek was obviously beyond consideration for this particular Vekken. He just stood there, staring at Stenwold with patent loathing. The guardsmen had now raised a cordon of shields around him and Cheerwell, with snapbowmen ducking down behind it to reload, then up again to shoot. Che noticed that there were a good few Vekken dead as well, as the bolts tore through their shields and armour both.

'Well?' Stenwold demanded. 'Can't you admit to logic, just this once?'

'Your men are the only ones still shooting,' the Vekken observed.

Stenwold forced his way out of the automotive again. 'Put up your bows!' he called. 'Hold!'

The Collegium soldiers waited tensely, the snapbowmen with their weapons still levelled above the shields of their fellows. The Vekken force mirrored them, big shields steady, crossbows loaded and aimed. There was a long, fraught pause while Stenwold caught his breath.

'We cannot go on like this,' he declared at last. The Vekken ambassador eyed him as though he was mad.

'Put up your bows,' he said again without anger, sounding only tired.

The officer repeated the order with obvious reluctance and the barrels of the snapbows lifted.

'What is going on?' Stenwold asked.

'As I have said, these men were given their last orders before Tactician Akalia's force was defeated.' That defeat was obviously a bitter memory for the Vekken.

'And now?'

'They will seek further instructions, on the off chance that their orders will now be changed.'

'Off chance?' Stenwold exploded.

The Vekken's expression suggested that attacking Collegium agriculture was an eminently appropriate thing for bands of Vekken soldiers to be doing.

'And are there any more of these soldiers?'

There was a pause while the Vekken remained silent, obviously communing mind-to-mind with his kinsmen. 'Yes,' he replied at last. As Stenwold drew breath to speak he said, 'I have suggested, as an officer of Vek, that this band recommend they too seek new orders. I have no absolute authority, however, and they may disagree with my assessment.'

And you secretly hope they will. Stenwold felt an urge to strangle the man. He cautioned himself: Diplomacy, remember. He had tried so hard, so very hard, to make things work. He had started with this premise: they are people, just as we are, but he should have known better. Since then he'd had plenty of cause to remember that Ant-kinden were not remotely like the sort of people he understood.

The Vekken were now attending to their wounded. 'Do you want me to provide them with doctors?' Stenwold asked, seeing the opportunity for a peace offering.

'They require no Collegiate doctor,' the Vekken ambassador snapped, without hesitation.

'At least let us attend to your wound then …'

The look he received was poisonous. 'My own people will tend to me in due course. For now, should we not be returning, as you have solved your mystery?'

Stenwold took ten minutes' respite from diplomacy, as the automotive began to rumble its way back to Collegium, to think every vile thought he could about both the city of Vek and its bloody-minded inhabitants. After that satisfaction he leant forward to address the envoy again.

'Do you at least see now, though, why your presence in our city is so necessary? Misunderstandings occur so very easily, between our people. Surely you must understand that there is no need for this violence, not any more?'

There was no hint of understanding in the Vekken's face, in fact no expression of any kind. Stenwold sighed again.

'You are here in Collegium for a purpose.' A purpose other than spying on us, surely, he added to himself.

'Master Maker,' the Vekken replied, 'we are here for now, but how long do you think your plan will work? We are here because you have spoken so many words that some within our city have become curious. We know that your people hate us. We know that support for you in your ruling body wanes. Matters will soon resume their natural course. What do you hope to accomplish?'

It was a surprisingly long speech, for one of his kind. Stenwold sat back and reflected. The Vekken initiative had been his idea, true, and almost a single-handed effort. He had traded a lot of the prestige he had accumulated during the war for this chance at a lasting peace.

And he's right, the bastard. He sees it very clear. It wouldn't take much of a shift of opinion in the Assembly to have us rattling our spears again.

The Vekken was looking at him without expression, except for a tiny wince of pain each time the automotive jolted. The studied loathing still evident in his eyes presaged the future.

Three

'Khanaphes,' said Master Jodry Drillen and, although it was twelve years since the man had been a teacher at the College, Stenwold still heard in his head the squeak of chalk on slate.

'Khanaphes, indeed,' he murmured. The two of them had appropriated one of the smaller conference rooms at the Amphiophos. Nearby, the Assembly, the great elected mob that governed and failed to govern Collegium in equal measures, had only recently finished sitting.

'Something must be done.' Master Drillen was a great, fat Beetle-kinden man a few years Stenwold's senior. He had exchanged academia for politics years ago and never looked back, his influence and waist expanding in tandem as though by some demonstrable formula of statesmanship. At the moment he wore a little greying goatee beard in the Spider style, which Stenwold thought looked ridiculous but was apparently all the fashion.

Stenwold shrugged. 'The city of Khanaphes is a living, breathing city, rather than something consigned to the histories of the Inapt. That's no great surprise, is it? After all, the Moths left us with only the scraps from their