I could see the assembled Allied ambassadors. The collective wave of shock which flowed over them was amusing, but more interesting to me was who was not astounded by the news. The Urgan representatives were uniformly abashed. Most of the League nations were not in the know. The Commonwealth assembly knew, of course, but the Federation delegates, almost to a soul, remained calm. Were it another delegation, the Imperials, even, I would have put their lack of reaction down to national stoicism, but the Federation nobles were a famously emotion-driven lot. If they were not reacting now, it was because they’d already reacted earlier.
The Federation knew.
That was a tidbit Boleslaw would appreciate. It implied a leak from Imperial to Federation circles, be it a spy or successful surveillance. It also explained why Lady d’Lyre, who’d spent the last several days seducing Prince Aureli and making eyes at Prince Selnikov, had decided to give me the time of day. I filed the fact away for future use.
The Emperor gestured for silence once more. “Once the swiftlings have been released into the jungle, you shall have four hours to pursue them. How well you hunt shall determine how well you and I feast tonight, so for all our sakes, I wish you good luck.”
On the word ‘luck,’ a horn blared, the cage doors slammed open, and the hordling retainers began banging the back bars of the swiftlings’ containers. The predatory birds screeched and squawked, but soon enough, one bolted from its pen into the dense jungle. The others, seeing motion and sensingweakness, dashed after it, vanishing into the brush. The Allied delegates milled about, confused, but soon enough, they drifted into the undergrowth to pursue their evening meal.
A few Imperial nobles flew in after them, and I frowned. “Your Majesty,” I began, not certain how to address Astrid in an official capacity, but she turned to me with a pleasant smile, so I must not have overstepped any major bounds. “Ahem, well, do you think it’s wise to allow Imperial and Urgan officers to hunt together? In that dense forest, I could imagine the lords commander taking matters into their own hands.”
Astrid’s grin turned positively predatory. “Not all of my princes have gone to the hunt, only those whose loyalty to me is less than certain. If they cannot protect themselves from an unaugmented human, then they did not deserve to attend my jubilee in the first place.”
My blood ran cold at the cool way Astrid described the death of her countrymen. During the war, I’d done all I could to ensure my comrades’ survival. However, this was the way things were in the Empire. My fingers brushed the grip of my new four-barreled lancer. It also meant I should be on my toes.
I looked past Astrid. Prince Selnikov sat there, in the place of a senior advisor. Was he truly trustworthy, or was he trying to disrupt the negotiations? Of course, he could be both: a loyal Imperial urging the Emperor to cut off her negotiations and conquer the defeated Allies.
Ankhelina came trotting up to us, and dropped to one knee before the Emperor. Astrid sat aloof above her, peering down with questioning eyes. “Champion, did I not instruct you to protect the Consort with your life?”
“You did, my Liege, but he flew too fast for me to follow—”
“And you did not already have your hoversteed ready?” the Emperor interrupted. “Really, Champion, this seems simple enough a task. I am shocked you are unprepared.”
Ankhelina kept her gaze fixed upon the ground, but I knew her anger towards me must surely be growing. “Forgive me, Your Majesty. I do not know what came over me.”
“Fortunately, we had the foresight to bring an additional steed for your use,” Astrid said, motioning to a massive gunmetal grey monster of a steed. I knew the model. Count Petrokov had ridden a similar machine when I killed him.
“Thank you, my Emperor,” Ankhelina said, then mounted the offered steed, carefully avoiding my eyes as she did so.
Astrid leaned over to me. “Now, Levar, are you and your magnificent steed going to bring down the bird which I shall eat tonight?”
I looked at her, uncertain. “Would you like me to?”
Her grin widened. “Very much so.”
“Then it shall be done,” I replied and urged Tilly forwards into the undergrowth. Not a moment later, Ankhelina followed, crashing through the foliage on her oversized machine.
The tropical forest had been smashed through by unskilled, shielded riders. I could see their paths as clear as day, where they had sheared off branches and opened trails between the trees. It was the sloppy flying I’d expect from novice cadets. It was a wonder none had slammed into a tree already.
Then again, I was not looking for other hunters. I was seeking a swiftling, and unlike the riders, swiftlings were flightless. I scanned the mat of ferns which covered the moist forest floor for imperfections.
Something beeped mechanically behind me. “There’s a swiftling fifty meters ahead and to the left, lying beneath a fallen log,” Ankhelina reported.
I sat up straight on Tilly’s saddle. “How do you know this?”
“All the swiftlings have embedded trackers. The Empire is not a government to piss away such expensive delicacies,” Ankhelina explained, waving a datascroll before me.
I sighed. “Champion, do you expect the Emperor will be pleased with a prize I cheated to obtain?”
Ankhelina snorted. “She will never know. I am more concerned with bringing you safely from this accursed jungle.”
“Champion, may I remind you I am shielded? What in these woods could harm…?”
I had not finished my sentence before a puff of compressed air coughed behind me. High-tensile lines wrapped themselves around my arms, not strong enough to penetrate my shield, but tough enough to pin my arms to my torso. With a quick jerk, I was yanked sideways.
Tilly slid with me, her stirrups clamped to my boots, screeching in alarm as we were dragged along the ground through the ferns. A demonic face, covered by a mask, hove into my view as I reached vainly for my dirk. He towered above me, half-obscured by the jungle underbrush, his hands grasping the line to the net which bound me. “He didn’t come off,” the voice said in the Imperial tongue.
“It doesn’t matter. Kill the beast,” another voice shouted. The demon holding my net placed a controlling boot on my chest and pulled one of their massive, cleaver-shaped zeroblades from over his shoulder. He lined it up for the blow, arrayed not against me, but against Tilly’s forward chassis. He raised the blade.
