Gorz slammed down his fifth cup of grasska. He could drink a
lot, almost as much as Strom. Kourey sat across from Gorz, in a dim corner at
the Inn on the Edge, Gorz’s favorite pub. It was a worker’s pub, where
merchants, builders, traders, and miners went to relax after a day’s service to the
Empire. Gorz enjoyed the noise and the grit of the common ant. The pub was
located on the lowest level of the vertical city of Hornblende. The city
spilled out of the cave in the cliff like a frozen waterfall made out of wood
and stone, which pooled into the immense Grand Market on the lowest level. The
Grand Market was still a ways up from the ground, though. It was a
twenty-minute hike up the winding roads to get to the market, or a much faster
and less exhausting five minute ride up one of the lifts.
The Inn on the Edge jutted out of the city, just above the
Grand Market. It provided a spectacular view of the forest, though it was
off-putting to Kourey, knowing that the only thing separating him from the
ground below was an old creaky wooden floor. The Inn and the Market were also
the only two structures in the city that were within catapult range. The Grand
Market was reinforced with black granite stones, but the inn was built some
years ago on a low budget by a non-royal landowner who couldn’t afford any
materials besides wood. It shouldn’t have mattered to Kourey, though, since the
city hadn’t been under siege in almost fifty years, but the knowledge that the
Inn could be so easily destroyed made him uncomfortable.
Kourey nervously fiddled with a small vile under his tunic,
and humbly sipped his second cup of grasska. He didn’t care for the drink. It
was bitter and it burned, but a Royal’s drink such as nectarwine couldn’t be
found in the lower levels of the city. He
watched as Gorz slowly turned in his seat to get the attention of the
bartender. He raised one of his arms and signaled for two more drinks.
“You had better hurry up with that one, Kourey,” said Gorz,
turning back around. “You’ve got nerves, I can tell, but you’ll need your sleep
for tomorrow, when we begin the journey to Feldspar. Besides, you’ve got four
days on the road to be nervous.”
Kourey stopped playing with the vile and tried to calm down,
but he couldn’t. “What if something goes wrong? What if this poison doesn’t work?”
He went back to fiddling with the vile.
“Hush,” said Gorz, leaning forward. “Remember where you are.
Be careful which words you choose. There are only five ants that know about the
plan. Stom and Zidney’s guards don’t know about it, not even the Her Elegance’s
guards know. But you shouldn’t worry so much, it-” Gorz stopped speaking and
leaned back as the bartender brought two more glasses of grasska to the table.
Kourey closed his eyes to down his last bit of grasska and handed the empty cup to the
bartender. Gorz continued when the bartender left, “It isn’t a difficult task. Just empty the vile into
his cup. It’s tasteless and colorless. He won’t notice a thing.”
“And what if he suspects something?”
asked Kourey.
“He’ll undoubtedly suspect
something,” said Gorz, casually. “The offer we gave him was of course too good
to be true. But he won’t expect anything from us personally. I don’t think he believes the Queen of Queens would
attempt such a risky move.”
“So, our plan is to create distrust
amongst the Sodden Pontiff’s closest followers, and so with no organization,
The Order will crumble, right?” asked Kourey.
“Exactly,” said Gorz. He swallowed a
big gulp of grasska and wiped his mouth with his upper left arm.
“And what if the plan doesn’t work?
What if it is us they suspect?” asked
Kourey.
Gorz smiled at Kourey. “You’re like
your father, you know? You try to calculate every single possible outcome
before you make a move.”
Kourey frowned. “I feel like knowing
the many outcomes of this particular plan is a reasonable concern.”
“Indeed it is,” Gorz chuckled. “If
they for some reason suspect it was us who killed the Sodden Pontiff, it is but
a simple matter of asking the coastals if they would rather be ruled by us, or
the Mud King,” said Gorz calmly.
“And if the Mud King reaches the coastals
before us, and stikes a deal? They can be easily manipulated. What if the Mud
King lies to them just like the Sodden Pontiff did?” asked Kourey.
“Impossible,” said Gorz. “If there
was the slightest movement from the Mangrove Swamp, we would know. Nearly all
of Muscovite’s forces are either blockading the fork, or guarding the frontier
in the forest, not to mention a handful of spies inside the Mud King’s city
posing as traders from the Distant Lands.”
Kourey sighed. Gorz seemed to always
have everything figured out. He always seemed to be one step ahead of everyone
he met. Annoyed, but a little more calm, Kourey closed his eyes again and
downed a big gulp of grasska. He swallowed, and for a moment he thought the
drink was going to come right back up, but he held it down, and then his mind
began to wander.
“Good job, young ant!” said Gorz.
“That was a big one.”
“Gorz,” said Kourey after a pause. “What ever happened to my father? Why did he
disappear?”
Gorz took a deep, solemn breath. “That
is a question best left unanswered.”
“But why?” asked Kourey,
unsatisfied. “You were good friends with him, weren’t you? Don’t you know what
happened to him?”
“He was half my age when he
disappeared, but yes, we were close back when I lived in Feldspar,” said Gorz.
“He was a good ant, a fine trader. Always did his duty to the Queen of Queens.”
“So then why’d he disappear, Gorz?”
asked Kourey, drunkenly distressed. “If he was such a good ant, why did he
leave? Was he taken?” Kourey had a very vague memory of his father. He must’ve
been only three years out of larva when his father disappeared, but he could
never forget the last time he saw him. I
love you, child, and so does she, though she’ll never tell you. Those were
his last words before he left. Shortly after, Gorz showed up and carried away
the young crying Kourey.
“Those are tough questions to answer
right now, Kourey. It’s best they go unanswered for now. Perhaps one day, maybe
in more stable times, you’ll learn,” said Gorz. “Now, I think it’s time we get
some rest.” Kourey and Gorz exited the Inn on the Edge and took a mouse
carriage up the narrow winding roads of Hornblende.
The Royal Councilant of Feldspar and
his Royal Guard parted ways at the entrance to the Gold Palace. Gorz went
inside the Palace to his private quarters. Kourey walked down a block from the
Palace to his quarters near the Royal barracks. He walked through the Old
Market, and stopped to buy a light snack before he got home.
Kourey loved the noise, smells, and
energy of the always-busy Old Market. It was smaller and less industrial than
the Grand Market. Merchants sold small goods at the Old Market, like trinkets,
and toys, clothing, even armor, and of course, food. He found a food stand that
he liked, and grabbed a salted half-minnow on a stick. He turned around quickly
to head home, but ran straight into another ant and knocked him over, causing a
box he’d been carrying to fall and shatter into a stinky pile of powders and perfume oils. The ant slowly began to pick himself back up. A red and green cloth
covered the ant’s face, and he wore strange red and green robes. Kourey coughed
at the overwhelming scent of perfume and began to apologize as he knelt down to
try and help the ant pick up what remained of his goods. “I’m so very sorry,
about that, let me-“
Just then, the ant grabbed a hold of
one of Kourey’s wrists and leaned in close so that only Kourey could hear him
speak. “Don’t kill the queen,” muttered the Stranger. The ant had a strong
Muscovite accent, like Zidney’s.
“Hey! A worker does not grasp a
Royal Guard!” shouted Kourey, and he yanked his arm away. The strange ant from
Muscovite let him go with no resistance. He stood up and walked away briskly without
even picking up his shattered mess on the ground. Kourey watched the ant leave,
confused about what had just happened. He shrugged, and continued home.
Later that night, Kourey lied in bed
on the verge of sleep. He thought about his father, and who she might have been. Kourey assumed his
father was talking about his mother, but he had never met her. Gorz said she
died giving birth, but Kourey always doubted that. He never knew how much he
could trust Gorz when it came to talking about his parents. Gorz was oddly
secretive about the past.
Kourey finally slipped into a slumber. He dreamed a strange dream
in which he was flying over the ocean with the ghost of his father. Everywhere
he looked he saw nothing but water. Suddenly, he began to fall. His father’s pale
ghost hovered in the sky, watching Kourey plummet downward toward the water. Kourey
tried to reach out for his father to save him, but he did nothing. Right before
he crashed into the sea, however, Kourey was caught by the stranger from the
Old Market. His red and green robes had turned completely red. There was an intense
and terrifying anger behind the cloth that concealed his face. Everything
turned pitch black. Then, Kourey heard the stranger scream. DON’T KILL THE QUEEN!
Kourey jolted awake. He was out of breath,
and his back was sore.
