Asunder: A Gathering of Chaos by Cameron Hopkin (electronic book reader .txt) 📗

her eyes adjusted to the darkness, and she could see faint wavering light ahead.

“I told you he was down here,” the older woman breathed. Her breath smelled like moss. “Come on. Say nothing.”

Meter by meter they crept forward, feeling their way with their feet, making as little noise as possible. The tunnel curved up ahead, and as they made progress, they could see a wavering rectangle of light spilling on to the left-hand wall from a doorway on the right. The voices grew louder, and Renna stopped to listen.

“We need to press them harder,” a clear, high voice said. “They make so many promises, but so far they have delivered very little of substance.” A woman. Is it not the Governor, then? We should go. This is suicide. Of course, it was suicide to disobey Renna, as well. She stayed where she was.

A gruff, raspy voice answered the unseen woman. “A year and a half with no attacks is plenty of substance, if you ask me. Let’s not be greedy.”

“It’s not greed, Garrett,” responded the woman with some asperity. “We have the chance to make things better for the whole city, and I think being timid does us all a great disservice. We shouldn’t come to these meetings begging for scraps. We hold a strong position, and they know it. We can push a little. Don’t you think so, my lord?”

“Yes,” mused a strong baritone. “We could overrun their outposts at the edge of the jungle at a moment’s notice. The garrison has never been stronger.”

Renna looked back at Nira, a knowing sneer on her face. “That’s the Governor,” she whispered. “I told you.”

The other man, the gravel-voiced one, spoke again. “The garrison is strong precisely because they haven’t been attacking. It’s easy to build up forces when your men aren’t dying. Do you really think they haven’t been strengthening their own troops as well? We haven’t a single pair of eyes in their camps or cities. If we come at them threatening, they’ll crush us. I lead that garrison, Mattias – my lord – and if you tell us to mount an attack, I’ll do it. But I know what my men can do, and I’m telling you they would crush us. If forgoing a few of the baubles they’ve mentioned lets us keep the peace, I call it a small price.”

“Baubles,” scoffed the female voice. “They promise to bring us lights that don’t fail and heat that won’t explode like our spore hatcheries do. What of the weapons that won’t break? I thought at least that one would interest you, General.”

General? Are they having a council meeting down here? What under the Light would they do such a thing for? Nira couldn’t understand it.

“All right, Councilor, don’t badger the man,” murmured the Governor. His voice was powerful, persuasive. She’d never seen him, but even in Canton Bend they talked about the handsome Governor of Far East. Fi had joked that if they couldn’t find a place with the Bone Army, she’d find the Governor and trip him into bed. They’d laughed to the skies about it. “You’ve been awfully quiet, Honored Mistress. What does New Gaia think?”

“We can push for more of their advances without threatening war,” said a reedy, nasal voice. Renna stiffened, her eyes going wide. “For my part, I’ve been thinking it might be useful to let them off the leash a little more. Not that we want war, but perhaps some…targeted interventions might slake their thirst for our blood. There are undesirable elements within the Weaver community that need pruning. Researching insects, surrounding themselves with swarms… insects cause blights in the sacred plants, have you ever thought about that? And now they’re agitating for more power, more rank. Gaia forbid! I say we use the monsters to cull them. We must tread carefully, though; it would be awkward to have to explain these meetings to our people.”

Renna was breathing heavily, and her face twisted in rage. “Megda,” she hissed, her hands clenching spasmodically. Then, without warning, she was on her feet and striding around the corner into the light. Nira reached out to pull her back, but she was too late. She scuttled after the woman, staying to the shadows, trying to remain unseen.

“And why exactly can you not tell your people about these meetings, holy Mother?” Renna shouted. She stormed into the room without hesitation, overriding the exclamations of its occupants. “You conniving chokevine of a woman! The Handmaiden will have your skin for this. Secret councils? Conspiring with enemies? Plotting to cull the Insectae?! You worm, you hag!” From where she crouched in the shadows, Nira heard the whisper and clunk of an armored man moving. “Put it away, General,” Renna trumpeted righteously, “or Gaia will strike you down where you stand. I call you to trial, Megda dan Paeta! The priesthood will not tolerate such wickedness.”

Nira edged to the doorway and peered in as much as she dared. Renna stood defiant as a sturdy, aging man in lacquered armor held her at bay with a flat, wooden bat edged with sharpened flints. He looked uneasy and embarrassed. Two women sat at a squat table was in the center of the torch-lit chamber. One of them was a short, white-haired matriarch in the garb of a Hand of Gaia. The other was stout, darker than Nira, and wearing rich robes. The man lounging in the corner wearing expensive clothes was the Governor, no doubt. His black hair fell artlessly to the shoulder, a pleasingly mature dusting of gray at the temples, and the caramel skin of his angular face had a healthy glow. Handsome, indeed.

The petite priestess at the table was rubbing at her temples wearily. “Oh, shut up, Renna! You stupid girl, why can’t you just do your research and behave? Did the Mother herself send you to test me?”

“If this is a test, Megda, then you’ve failed it,” Renna snarled, ignoring the general entirely. “I don’t like the