Hive

CHAPTER ONE The Cost of SubmissionA bitter, metallic taste stung my tongue and I fixed a look of distaste on my face. Galveston’s guard manacled my wrists but allowed me the dignity of walking through the cobbled streets from the gates to the central fort. The castle rose above me on the highest peak, the grey of its stone facade matching the discordant sky. The Wasp Lord’s new army made a rag tag bunch of misfits. Kuiti’s former guard still wore their dark, bird-like armour and avoided my glares in their direction. My presence pricked their conscience, though I saw their loyalty to the former monarchy tamped down by fear. Galveston’s home guard displayed their garish black and yellow jackets over chests puffed with pride and arrogance. The harsh yellow clashed against the somber Forlornn colours. Something about it resonated deep within my soul and sent a shiver of foreboding along my spine. “Sorry, Melanis.” The whisper came from behind and a strong hand guided my left elbow as I stumbled. I glanced sideways and recognised the face partially obscured by a helmet. Kuiti’s personal guardsman lowered his eyes against the force of my surprised expression, his grip causing the bees beneath my skin to squirm and tingle. I shook him off, my narrowed eyes hard and accusatory. My lips moved without sound, eager to brand him a traitor. Swallowing, he lowered his chin and instinct told me he already knew his faults. “Sorry,” he breathed again and fell back in step with the others. People emerged from their homes to watch the spectacle and I observed them through shuttered eyelashes. Dirty and emaciated, their eyes channelled hunger and desperation. Many of the houses lining the narrow streets disgorged more spectators than I assumed possible, rural communities drawn to the city through their need. The cobbles proved icy underfoot and the sound of trickling water met the brooms used to clear the pavements and roadways. It seemed as though the world halted and held its breath to watch my steady tramp towards certain death. Where the Forlornn traitors hung back and avoided my gaze, the Wasp contingent stepped up their cruelty to infill the gap. Only nature ignored my progress, creating its dirty slush and emboldening the heavy overheads clouds for another deluge. The journey felt endless, not helped by the constant noise emerging from the large hole in Sorrel’s face. “I disarmed her myself,” he chattered to the guard leading the way. Anger burned in my heart and blurred his furry outline as he stepped through the slushy surface. “She’s a brilliant opponent.” The Wasp commander gave a disinterested uplift of his chin and I sensed disbelief in the set of his shoulders. Sorrel dared a glance back at me and I narrowed my eyes to wordlessly promise him serious harm if we ever met again. He grinned and waved, the action conspiratorial and without guile. Foolish child. I wondered what treasures the shifty Galveston had promised him. I feared for the remnant when Sorrel divulged their whereabouts and led the Wasp Lord to the careful hidey Limah created for them. A shake of my head dismissed the concern but poorly. I cared nothing for Hosta and her crowd, but Lily had stolen my heart and I imagined ways I might bargain for her freedom. I expected a prison cell, but instead, the guard led me to Kuiti’s chamber and locked me inside. The room appeared unchanged from my last visit, the same dark furniture seated where my late husband left it. An ornate chair rested at an angle from the desk, the white of the seat covering stark against the onyx of the treated wood. I imagined poor Kuiti signing documents of state with his strong fingers gripping the quill pen which lay abandoned on the desk’s polished surface. My boots squelched as I edged closer, drawn to the scribbled writing on the parchment there. Wet footprints followed me across the wooden floor, my footwear spreading clumps of ice from the worn treads and dotting a weaving path behind me. I moved the quill aside and my lips stumbled over the Forlornn words printed on the page. An official looking document, it seemed to relate to household matters. Closer inspection revealed only the cost of maintaining his army’s weaponry. Sighing, I pushed the chair into its gap beneath the desk. My marriage seemed a lifetime ago and my memories of Kuiti hazy from lack of use. I wondered if I might have grown to love him a little given the chance, but doubted it. Pompous and entitled, he reminded me of my former self. I pitied any offspring caught in the centre of such a quest for self-aggrandisement. We would have destroyed each other and everyone else within range. The last time I clambered onto the wide four poster bed, my new husband watched me with eyes filled with lust and expectation. Doped by Limah’s bee smoke, I had felt sleepy and disoriented. This time saw me exhausted as I loosened my boots and kicked them onto the rug, lowering my aching body into the soft feather bed coverings. I pushed the path-delineator underneath my pillow and settled my head over it. Another thought crept to the fore in the moments between tiredness and slumber. The Forlornn king had ordered me poisoned and someone slipped rhododendron into my drink. I would need to survive more than a day this time, or the Bee Queen’s Champion would be lost forever.