way. Chitin crunched beneath immensely powerful jaws.
It was some time before Kesylict the Minister dared to stick fluttery antennae
around the arched doorway into the chamber. Sensing only simmering anger and the
absence of blind fury he poked first his head and then the rest of his antlike
body into the room.
A glance revealed a ruby the size of a man's head and redder than his blood. In
the top facet Kesylict saw the reflection of the Empress. She was squatting on
four legs. The body of the unfortunate chamberlain dangled loosely from one hand
while the beautifully symmetrical porcelain-inlaid face of the Empress stared
out without seeming to see him.
Though not as lavishly decorated as the main audience chamber or the sinister
den of death designated as the royal bedroom, this chamber was still lush with
gems and precious metals. The Greendowns were rich in such natural wealth, as
though the earth had compensated the land for its noisome, malodorous surface
and eternal cloud cover.
They were much appreciated by the hard-shelled denizens of those lands. In the
absence of the sun, their sparkle and color provided much beauty. All the
varieties of corundum were mined in great quantities: beryl, sapphire, ruby.
Rarer diamond framed the windows in the chamber, and thousands of lesser gems,
from topaz to chryso-beryl, studded furniture and sculpture and the ceiling
itself.
But Kesylict had not kept his head by mooning like a bemused grub at commonplace
baubles. He waited and was ready when the triangular emerald green skull jerked
around and huge multifaceted eyes dotted with false black pupils glared down at
him.
Kesylict debated whether it might not be prudent to retire and wait a while
longer before attending his Empress. However, cowardice could cause him to go
the way of the chamberlain. That former servitor was now only an empty husk that
had been neatly scraped clean by the voracious Empress.
"Why do you cower in the doorway, Kesylict? Yes, I recognize you." Her voice was
thick and raspy, like sandpapered oil. Useless wings twitched beneath a long
flowing cape of pure silk inlaid with ten thousand amethysts and morions shaped
by the empire's finest gem-cutters and polishers, and attached to the cape by a
dozen royal seamstresses.
"Pardon, Your Majesty," said the hopeful Kesylict, "but I do not cower. I only
hesitate because while I have hoped to talk with you for the past several hours,
your mood recently has not been conducive to conversation." He gestured at the
corpse-shell of the chamberlain. "Mutual conversation is difficult when one of
the participants is forced to function minus his head."
That glowering, fixed skeleton shape could not twist her mouth parts into a
smile, and such an expression would have been foreign to her anyway.
Nonetheless, Kesylict felt some of the tension depart the room.
"A sense of humor when one's own possible demise is at stake is a finer
recommendation of courage than the most dry and somber brilliance, my Kesylict."
She tossed the empty shell of the chamberlain into a far corner, where it
shattered like an old dish. A couple of legs fell away and rolled up against a
far door. The corner was rounded, as were all in the room. The inhabitants of
the Greendowns disliked sharp angles.
She turned away from the window. "Anyway, I am full, and tired. But there is
more than that." Both knife-edged arms crossed in front of the green thorax, and
the decorated head rested on the crux they formed, producing a frozen image of
an insectoid odalisque.
"I am worried."
"Worried, Your Majesty?" Kesylict scuttled into the chamber, though taking care
to try and remain unobtrusively out of her reach. One could not escape the
lightning-swift grasp of the mantis unless one remained beyond its range. So
Kesylict approached no closer than protocol demanded. None could tell when the
mercurial desires of the Empress might change from a request for advice to a
craving for dessert.
"What could possibly be enough to worry Your Majesty? The preparations?" He
waved toward the far window. Outside and below were the busy streets of Cugluch,
capital of the Empire of the Chosen, their most powerful city. Teeming thousands
of dedicated citizens dutifully slaved for the glory of their Empress and their
society. Their own lives were filled with the shared glory of their race, and
each lowly worker was ready to share in the coming conquests. Preparations were
proceeding with the usual efficiency.
"We ready ourselves better than ever before in the history of the Empire, and
this time we cannot fail, Majesty."
"There has been no trouble with the stores?"
"None, Majesty." Kesylict sounded genuinely concerned. Though fearful for his
personal safety, he was nevertheless a loyal and devoted servant of his Empress,
and she did indeed seem worried.
"The training and mobilization also proceeds smoothly. Every day more grubs shed
their larval skin and develop arms and the desire to bear weapons. Never has our
army been as powerful, never has the desire of its troops been greater. Not one
but three great armies stand ready and anxious for the ultimate assault on the
lands to the west. Victory is within our grasp. Or so generals Mordeesha and
Evaloc have been saying for over a year now. The whole Empire pulses with desire
and readiness for battle.
"Yet by wisdom we wait, grow stronger still, so that we can now overwhelm the
hated soft ones with but a third of our strength."
She sighed, a low hiss. "Still, we have many thousands of years of failure
behind us to show the folly of brave words. I will not give the order to move
unless I am certain of success, Kesylict." Her head twitched to one side and she
used an arm to clean a bulging eye.
"No trouble then with the Manifestation?"
"Why, no, Majesty." Kesylict was appalled at the thought. For all his talk of
strength and desire, he knew that the Empress and general staff were pinning
their ultimate hopes on the Manifestation.
"What could be wrong with it?"
She shook a cautionary claw at him. "Where magic is involved, anything is
possible. This development is so different it frightens even Eejakrat, who is
responsible for it. The greatest care must be exercised to insure its safety and
surroundings."
"So it has been, Majesty. Any unauthorized who have come within a hundred
zequets of it have been killed, their bodies buried without even the meat being
consumed. Greater security has never been exercised in the whole history of the
Empire." He peered hard at her.
"Even still, my Majesty worries?"
"Even still." She made as if to rise from her squat. Kesylict took a nervous
step backward. She gestured casually, slowly, with an armored arm.
"Be at ease, my valued servant. I am sated physically. It is my mind that
hungers for surcease, and your counsel that I require. Not your meat."
"Gladly will I offer my poor advice to Your Majesty."
"This is not for you alone, Kesylict. Summon High General Mordeesha and the
sorcerer Eejakrat. I have need of their thoughts as well."
"It will be done, Your Majesty." The Minister turned, his cushioned shoes
scraping on the extruded stone floor. He was grateful for the respite but at the
same time concerned for the health of his Empress.
Everything was going so well. What could possibly have happened to upset her to
the point where she was worried about the outcome of the Great Enterprise?
Later, squatting with the others, Kesylict felt by far the most vulnerable, to