‘I can’t imagine that we have much to say to one another,’ Teornis drawled, his casual pose seeming for a moment too obviously studied.
Stenwold shrugged. ‘We’re Beetle-kinden, so we always talk first – and plainly. We need to know exactly where we stand.’
The leader of the Wasps introduced himself as General Tynan. He was a broad-shouldered man who must have matched Stenwold year for year, although those years had left him thinner and with even less hair. He and his escort were received in one of the gardens abutting the Amphiophos, an open space that was complete with mechanical fountain, tiered pools and a dozen antique statues representing virtues. By the fashion of that time, the said virtues were all young women wearing too few clothes, which inevitably inspired thoughts that were less than virtuous. The tastes of the time had clearly also favoured undergrowth, for the garden was thick with ferns and moss and creeping skeins of ivy. General Tynan took his time in examining his surroundings whilst his personal guards and officers, some two dozen in all, stood impassively nearby.
‘You’re not Lineo Thadspar, I take it.’
‘He is indisposed. My name is Stenwold Maker.’
‘Acceptable.’ Tynan nodded briskly. ‘My intelligence suggested that you would be managing the defence. You performed well against the Vekken, I am informed.’
Stenwold shrugged, indicating with a gesture that the city was still here, and the Vekken were not.
Tynan smiled. ‘We are not the Vekken, of course.’
‘I had not thought for a moment that you were, General.’
‘We have a sound record of defeating the Ant-kinden whenever we meet them,’ Tynan added. ‘Our forces have routinely proved themselves superior.’
‘We are not the Ant-kinden either,’ Stenwold pointed out. Somewhere hidden in the foliage, a clock began to sound the hour with intricate chimes.
Tynan’s smile returned. ‘Remarkable,’ he said, strolling over to the mechanical fountain. ‘I am impressed by your city, General Maker.’
‘Really.’
‘Do not think that I am just some brute with an army. I read. I admire art. Your city here is beautiful, both in its society and its construction. Collegium will be a worthy addition to the Empire.’ The Wasp turned, his face now hard. ‘I have my orders, General Maker. Your kin in Helleron, when faced with this decision, became willing partners to our imperial rule. I am now offering you the same choice.’
‘That we surrender?’ Stenwold clarified.
‘Even so.’ Tynan made a small gesture that encompassed Collegium and all of its futures. ‘This city will not be able to stand against us. You will have hosted sufficient refugees from Tark to know how thorough we can be in bringing a people to its knees. I do not wish to see Collegium thus consumed by bombs and incendiaries. That would be a waste.’
‘We must decline your gracious offer,’ Stenwold said heavily, ‘or what did we fend off the Vekken for?’
Tynan’s pitying expression suggested that domination by a provincial Ant warlord was an infinitely different prospect to inclusion in the all-powerful Empire. ‘General Maker,’ he said. ‘I will welcome any embassy from you, and I would advise you to send one soon. You will surrender, in time. Consider how much of this city you will see laid waste before you do.’
The imperial bombardment of Collegium had begun that same evening, just an introductory barrage delivered before nightfall. The walls had held firm: even the Vekken had done worse. Collegium artificers had already made their measurements for a nocturnal retaliation, but the Wasps must have had some reports from Vek because they moved their siege engines out of range at the end of the day, rather than leave them at the Beetles’ mercy. It would slow their artillery, having to find the ranges afresh each morning, but at least it would preserve them. General Tynan was clearly playing a careful game.
The next day the air war began. Whilst the artillery of both sides thundered loud around the walls, the Wasp airborne commenced attacking the city. Stenwold recalled the words of Parops, about how the Wasps had drawn out the Tarkesh air support before firebombing the city into submission. He hoped here they could put up a sterner aerial defence.
The snapbows helped, of course. Collegium soldiers, half-trained and untested, stood ready at the walls and on rooftops across the city, and shot at the Wasps as they dived overhead. Each neighbourhood and district deployed its own little force, though the College itself was the heart of the defence. Totho’s weapons, more accurate and far-reaching than crossbows, broke apart the first two Wasp assaults, but the afternoon saw a redoubling of the imperial offensive. The Empire committed two score of orthopters and heliopters to the fray to complement their innumerable soldiers, and the houses of Collegium began to come under direct bombardment. To counter them, Collegium launched its own flying machines, its heavy airborne and Paolesce’s Dragonfly-kinden.
