Chapter Two: The March

How stupid did the Queen of Queens think the Sodden Pontiff was? Her offer was too good to be true. It had to be a ploy to discredit, or even assassinate him. The Royal Council with all their wisdom was even allowing the Savior to bring his army with him, the fools.

Thit marched in anger with her column of half a thousand ants. She held her longpike proudly, the polished, armor-piercing head glimmered in the morning sun along with the other hundreds of longpikes. Her column looked like a shiny forest of death. Thit was dressed in brand new bronze armor, trimmed with pure white, and wore a matching helm, which covered her head and cheeks, but had two holes on top that allowed her antennae to pop through. On her back, she carried her heavy round shield, which had recently had the white tower of Halite painted on it.

  She turned around to get one last look at the White City. The rising sun gave half the city a heavenly white-yellow glow, while the other half was still hidden in the dark blue of dawn. Thit had lived in Halite all her life, and she knew that she might not see it ever again. She would gladly give her life for her city, if that was what it took.

Behind her were dozens of columns just like her own, and those were only the ones in her field of vision. Thit was one of a hundred thousand pike soldiers, which made up the core of the Sodden Pontiff’s army. Fifty thousand cavalry mice supported the core, along with almost eighty thousand archers and various other missile soldiers. There were ten thousand siege engineers following up the rear who would construct catapults, towers, and ladders. Twenty five thousand specialized climbing soldiers also accompanied the army, who were prepared to make a dangerous free climb up the tall cliff if the army had to besiege Hornblende. The war would be over far before they reached Hornblende, though, if the inland ants knew what was good for them. Two hundred sixty-five thousand soldiers marched northeast with the Sodden Pontiff toward Feldspar. Another thirty-five thousand soldiers traveling upriver by warship from The Island of Basalt were going to meet them under the City on the Bridge, bringing the army’s total up to three hundred thousand.

The Sodden Pontiff’s plan was simple. He would walk straight into the Royal Councilants’ ploy in Feldspar, and turn their ‘negotiation’ around on them. He would show them his army, and should they make even a hint of aggression toward him, the army would immediately besiege Feldsapar. The coastal army was much larger and better equipped than the skeleton of the inland army. The Queen of Queens would have no choice but to surrender her empire to The Savior, but if she was foolish, the army was fully prepared to kill the Royal Councilants and cleanse the entire inland of non-believers all the way to the capital city on the cliff.

This attempt at a negotiation, or perhaps an assassination, had to have been an act of desperation by the Queen of Queens, the slow and overly cautious crusty old ant. She was afraid. She was afraid of Halite’s power, and she was afraid of The Order, even though the Sodden Pontiff was the one who saved her and her precious Empire. It was Halite’s blessed filtered water that kept the Empire breathing during the Great Drought, but the inland river cities never learned to respect it. They were too stuck in their old ways of the Old Queens, too dependent on the Feldspar River. The river used to be the lifeblood of the Empire, but now the river was sick, and the Empire was weak. It was time to convert the inland non-believers, and to liberate them from suffering, and from the tyranny of the Old Empire.

Chapter One: The Plan

Goldfinches wearing light bronze armor engraved with the royal sigil swooped down toward the capital city in a chaotic fury. Hornblende was under siege. The Old Queens, who had been out of power for almost a decade, were back to reclaim their rightful throne with their enormous black and gold army. The crazed warlord who called himself the Mud King occupied the Royal Capital, which was built into a shallow black granite cave inside of a tall cliff. The Mud King had fortified himself within the magnificent Gold Palace, the highest point in the city. The highly trained birds and their skilled and battle-hardened riders came down on the city with force. The riders wore their signature black and gold capes, along with polished bronze armor, trimmed brightly with the colors of their home cities. The Mud King’s poorly equipped, and half-starved army of criminals, mercenaries, and outcasts didn’t stand a chance against the elite soldiers and their deadly birds-of-war.

            Kourey wondered what it was like to fly on the back bird as he stared upward at the giant mosaic of the famous aerial assault on Hornblende. The tall dome ceiling of the Royal Council chamber located within the Gold Palace was covered in mosaics originally made from brightly colored gemstones that came from every corner of the empire. The mosaics depicted the famous and glorious victories from the War for Unification.

Most of the mosaics were fragmented and faded. Several had large chunks of their gemstones taken out and replaced with duller, less valuable stones. The Great Drought put an enormous strain on the economy over the past four years, forcing the antministration to dip into their extraordinary display of riches. Even parts of the Gold Palace, such as the once extraordinary spiral towers, had been removed and melted down into coins.

 Below the deteriorating mosaics, within the now less-decorative Gold Palace, the last surviving member of the Old Queens sat at the head of a long, intricately carved black granite table. She was the largest ant in the empire, with an abdomen almost twice as long as Kourey’s entire body. She was also the oldest ant in the empire, at the age of seventy-seven. She was still relatively healthy, but much slower than she was almost fifty years ago when she was crowned.

The Queen of Queens was accompanied by three of her five Royal Councilants. To her left, sat Councilant Zidney of Muscovite. He wore a humble old cloak, which matched his pale brown body. The cloak was tattered and torn, and frankly unfit for a Royal Councilant. He insisted, however, that it was lucky, and vowed to never get a new one until his old one deteriorated completely. His cloak aggravated several royal ants, including Astor Gorzae of Feldspar, the last surviving Royal Goldfinch Rider, or so most ants assumed. Gorz never talked about his past. Astor Gorzae sat at the right hands of the Queen of Queens. He was almost as old as her, at the age of seventy. His antennae hung tiredly low. Small cracks and battle scars covered his face, arms, and thorax. His once vibrant maroon color had faded into a pale pink from years of warfare and stress.

Gorz took guardianship over Kourey at a young age after his father disappeared, and enlisted him in the Royal Academy. Ironically, Kourey grew up to become Gorz’s sworn bodyguard, even though Kourey was not technically a soldier. He was a Royal bodyguard, even though he was not a soldier, and he was also allowed into Councilant meetings, even though he was not a Councilant, but Gorz insisted on allowing him inside. Many believed he was grooming Kourey to become his successor. Kourey watched the old ant from his post near the entrance of the Councilant chamber. Gorz seemed more and more tired each day.

Hunched over next to Gorz was Councilant Strom of Galena. His four black hands gripped a tall cup of nectarwine. He seemed particularly bitter on this day, with his silver cloak wrapped tightly around his shoulders, in an almost defensive demeanor. He had held a constant frown from the moment he walked into the chamber. Kourey watched as Strom took a long gulp of his nectarwine and made an effort to slam a silver vambrace on the table as he set down the cup.

“We need to kill them, all of them,” said Strom, interrupting Councilant Zideny, who was saying something about the city’s water supply. Strom’s voice was deep and smoky. He always sounded displeased, even when he was entertained.

“Why should we kill them when all we need to do is get rid of one?” asked Gorz, in a calm and patient manor. Strom and Gorz hardly ever agreed.

“They’re all traitors, Gorz,” said Strom. “They’ve lost their devotion to their queen in Halite, and therefore, their loyalty to her Elegance the Queen of Queens!”

“You’re wrong,” countered Gorz. “Their devotion was taken from them, and replaced with lies.”

Strom stared at Astor Gorzae as he took another big sip of nectarwine. “The Sodden Pontiff killed her. He killed the Queen of Halite, and what did the Halitions do? Nothing. No, worse than nothing, they believed the Pontiff’s lies and they began to follow his radical order.”

“We don’t know for certain that the Sodden Pontiff killed the Queen of Halite,” said Gorz.

Strom gestured gently toward the Queen of Queens with two of his black arms. “Then how come her elegance can’t make contact with her? Her elegance the Queen of Queens is connected to the queens of Galena, Feldspar, Muscovite, and even the religious radical queen on the island of Basalt! He killed the Queen of Halite, Gorz, face it."

“We don’t know that for certain, Strom, and we surely don’t want to make any reckless decisions before we know the whole truth,” said Gorz. “I think it’s more likely that the Sodden Pontiff removed her antennae, and is now holding her hostage.”

“And do you think that’s any better?” replied Strom. “Either way, the Sodden Pontiff removed the Queen of Halite from her rightful position of power in the White City, and the citizens of Halite did nothing. Nothing, Gorz. And for that, they need to be punished. All of them.”

“And what do you suggest we do, execute the entire city?” asked Gorz.

“That would be a start,” said Strom.

Zidney leaned forward and took a deep, irritated breath. “As I was saying, about our water supply-“

“My city of Galena can provide all of Hornblende’s water,” interrupted Strom.

“For now,” said Zidney, dismissively. “But if the Feldspar River continues to get lower and more polluted, we will have to rely completely on the coastal cities of Halite and Basalt to bring us filtered seawater. How do you expect the rest of the coastals to cooperate if we punish their largest and wealthiest city?”

“Zidney’s right, Strom,” said Gorz. “Until we can find the reason for the sudden influx of pollution in the river, we cannot afford to lose the coastals’ supply of filtered water.”

“I have my best officer leading an expedition north as we speak," said Zidney. "I have complete confidence that Captain Fyodir will find the source of the pollution, but until then, we can’t risk cutting ties with Halite and Basalt."

“It is indeed true that we will need the costals’ water supply to survive,” said the Queen of Queens. Instantly, everyone’s attention went directly to her. She had a meek appearance, even with her large size.  Her age showed with small cracks all around her body, and her pure brown color had faded around her face and abdomen, much like Gorz’s color had. She was frail, and couldn’t move well anymore, but her voice could still effortlessly take command of a room. The Queen of Queens continued, “But there is something else from the coastals that we need more immediately than their water. We need their army.”

“How come, your Elegance?” asked Gorz. “The one who calls himself the New Mud King hasn’t made any notable movements in years.”

The Queen of Queens leaned back paused for a moment, almost hesitant. “Zidney, I think it’s time you tell the rest of the council what you told me yesterday,” said the Queen of Queens.

Strom and Gorz gave their attention to Zidney. His usually perky antennae lowered, in a serious fashion. “After I sent Captain Fyodir north of the fork to find the source of the pollution, I sent several smaller expeditions east, following the Mud River toward the Mangrove Swamp. Most never came back. The half dozen ants that did come back shared some alarming news. The floating Mud City in the swamp has grown rapidly, almost tenfold. And in the large open harbor, where there were usually white sails of neutral trade ships, there are now hundreds of warships with the brown and green sails of the Mud King’s army.”

“We don’t know how the Mud City grew so rapidly, but we can safely assume where he’s going to take those warships, and we need to prepare for the worst,” said the Queen of Queens. Though her voice was commanding, she usually spoke with a gentle tone. Kourey had never heard the Queen of Queens speak so sternly before.

“So, we need to build the army back up if we’re going to stand a chance against the inevitable attack,” said Zidney. “The goldfinches are long gone. They were too expensive to maintain. The rest of the royal army has mostly dissipated, as the funding for it was allocated during the Great Drought and the subsequent economic downturn. There is one city, however, which still maintains its army. A city that has twice the population and wealth as all the inland river cities combined.”

“But Halite’s army of traitors is under the command of the Sodden Pontiff, who will never hand over his soldiers to Hornblende,” said Strom doubtfully. “If anything, the Sodden Pontiff will join the Mud King, if he hasn’t already.”

“Which is why the Sodden Pontiff must be killed,” said the Queen of Queens. “I am just as upset with Halite’s actions as you are, Strom, but right now we need their army, and their wealth.”

“So then how do we kill him? He’s holed up in his White City, surrounded by devoted followers,” said Strom.

“We draw him out,” said the Queen of Queens. “We stage a negotiation that he cannot refuse, promising him complete sovereignty. This negotiation will take place at the halfway point between Hornblende and Halite.”

At that, Gorz’s sagging antennae perked up as high as they could go. “Your Elegance, you mean to lure the Sodden Pontiff and his army to-“

“Your home of Feldspar,” said the Queen of Queens, completing Gorz’s thought. “The negotiations will be on our turf, in the City on the Bridge. That’s when we assassinate the Sodden Pontiff, preferably by poison with a delayed reaction. He’ll die in the company of his closest followers, causing suspicion and distrust.”

“What do you mean we assassinate the Sodden Pontiff?” asked Strom. “You would have the Royal Councilants personally poison their threat?”

“No,” she said. “But it must be someone close to us. It can’t be an assassin because an unfamiliar face during negotiations will arouse suspicion. It must be someone on the inside, who is often seen with us. It must be someone very close to us, someone who would never draw the attention of the Sodden Pontiff.”

It was then when the Queen of Queens, and the three Royal Councilants turned their attention to Kourey. Kourey stared as the four most powerful ants in the Empire looked onto him with their full attention. Kourey gripped his spear, which he almost forgot he had. He gazed at the Queen of Queens, and then the three Councilants. He held his gaze on Gorz, and Gorz gave him a nod. Kourey knew he had to do his duty to the Empire.