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Photo credit: Shikhei Goh
Dawn danced across the Meadow where the Knights of Service had prepared the training ground.
Thousands filled the field. On the ground, mammals and reptiles, amphibians and crawling insects, all in high spirits, called to friends, shouting victory to come. In the surrounding trees, fliers with feathered or gossamer wings twittered and tweeted, flittered and buzzed, vibrating the air with an electric hum.
The Lieutenant leaped to a highpoint. Silence fell.
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Photo credit: Gene Hanson
“Where are you going, Sa-man-tha?” Andre wheedled from his Hive Guard post as his half-sister and Clifton approached the only way out.
“Not that it’s any of your business, An-nie,” she responded, “but I’m going to join the Alliance army.”
He looked at her out of the corner of his eyes. “Have you talked with Mother about this?”
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Photo credit: Scott Bauer
Inside the hive, Sam slipped into a small chamber out of sight around a corner. The first creature to exit a short while later was a darkly exotic female, the like of whom Clifton had never seen.
“Come with me,” she said as she walked past him.
Feeling his heartbeat in his wingtips, Clifton stammered, “Uh, sorry. I… uh, I’m… waiting for someone.”
“Yeah. Me.”
“You’re Sam?”
“Yeah. What of it?”
“Nothing,” he assured her. “It’s just that… well, I was expecting a… a guy.”
Sam crossed her top arms and stuck her lower fists on her hips. “You males are all alike. Andre didn’t tell you he’s my little brother, did he? Well, half-brother really; Mother used to travel. Come on.”
Sam interrogated Clifton as she hurried him through a maze of empty honeycomb.
“So what’s this war about?”
Clifton felt a need to match his speech to the speed of his legs. “This crazy tyrant wasp in The Arids calls himself General Hai and claims he’s the rightful King of Fen. He wants to take back the Hive and take over Bog and the Freelands, too.”
“Is he?”
“Is he what?”
“The rightful King of Fen?”
“No!” Clifton exclaimed. “The Hive has been in my family for generations. There was a wasp uprising against Queen Lilian’s mother a long time ago, and that became the Great War. Another attack happened recently, but it was personal.”
Sam turned left into an unoccupied reserve storage room and shot Clifton a pointed look. “All wars are personal against somebody, aren’t they? What about the rest of the Kingdom?”
Clifton stood tall. “We support the Queen. We’re free to live the way we want to — within the law — but nobody thinks the laws are unreasonable. We’re happy.”
“Except for the wasps, apparently,” Sam commented.
“No,” he corrected her, “including the wasps who are citizens. Only the Great War’s exiles were unhappy. In fact, my aunt is engaged to a wasp.”
“What?”
“We have good lives in Fen,” Clifton told her. “I can’t imagine not having friends from other tribes.”
“We don’t need friends from other tribes,” Sam countered.
That belief must be so old nobody questions it, Clifton thought. “See, that’s what’s changing. If the General comes to the Freelands, it’s going to be a lot easier for him to take over if he only has to fight one tribe at a time. First he’ll conquer the wasps, then he’ll move on to the bees or the voles or somebody else. His army is greater than any of your tribes alone. If you guys don’t help each other, the Freelands won’t be free for long.”
Sam’s brow furrowed. After a longish pause, she issued an order.
“Take me to this Alliance of yours. I’m signing up.”
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Photo credit: Heinz-Peter Bader
News that every wasp and vole had enlisted in the Alliance army influenced others to attend their own tribe’s meeting. Even the solitary amphibians, intrigued by the charismatic Lieutenant Terrance’s stature, were eager to learn more. Almost everyone signed up. By sunset, the Alliance army comprised every tribe except the Hiverarchy of Free Bees, who were now Clifton’s challenge.
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Photo credit: Peter Trimming
The voles came out of hiding when the Ambassador and the lieutenant arrived at the Watercress Ford.
“Thank you for meeting with us,” Lieutenant Terrance said as he shook Theo’s hand. “I’m sorry you’ve suffered such a hard loss. I understand Chester was very young.”
“Just a boy,” Theo said. A soft chorus of, “A fine boy,” “None better,” “So much promise,” and the like rose with nods from the surrounding voles.
“We aren’t as many as the wasps,” Theo acknowledged, “but we want to be part of the Alliance army, and make Chester proud. We just don’t think we’ll be much help on the battlefield.”
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Photo credit: Shikhei Goh
Lieutenant Terrance of Bog had his orders: build an Alliance army to defeat General Hai. He’d spent yesterday with Ambassador Arturo, visiting every Freelands tribe except the bees, explaining the importance of the Alliance and signing up recruits.
The first meeting on their list was with the Communal Hierarchy of Wasps. The air at the overflowing Arena thrummed an anxious whine when their ancient leader stood before them, clearing his throat with a rasp of coughs and expectorations.
“We are not accustomed to working with other Freelands’ tribes,” the elderly wasp began, “but when times change, they demand we change our ways with them. The Massacre changed our times. The Rebels who attacked us and killed our unborn have attacked others, not only in the Freelands, but in the nearby kingdoms of Bog and Fen as well.”
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Photo credit: Ann Kreilkamp
“How did Lady Lucy die?” Clifton demanded.
“She was undercover, gathering information from The Arids, and the General found her out,” the runner answered.
His vindication washed with tears, Clifton was adamant. “I knew Lady Lucy was loyal to the Queen! I need to tell Barry.”
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Photo credit: Igor Siwnowicz
“If you know who I am,” Sirehta replied bringing his face close to the speaking crack in the wall, “you have the advantage. Come out and let yourself be seen. You will come to no harm.”
Two twitching antennae and a round little head poked out from the crevice. Locking eyes with the viper, the oversized hopper scaled the wall to rest on a protruding stone at the top, facing the snake full on.
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Photo credit: Calum Williams
“Thank you for coming, my friend,” King Arnie the Former welcomed Sirehta, the former Marauder.
Sirehta, Bringer of Death, answered the King of Bog’s summons without hesitation. This King’s honor had saved him and his brothers from enslavement at the hands of the Evil Ones to the north. King Arnie had shown the vipers compassion and mercy; he had offered them residence in the Kingdom of Bog. In return, they had fought beside the Knights, ensuring victory. The leader of Bog had earned Sirehta’s respect.
That respect only grew when the monarch invited him to sun himself as they spoke while the King chose to sit in the nearby shade.
“How may I be of service to you, Sir?”
“We’ve learned the identity of the Assassin, and we know where he is.”
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Photo credit: Nick Garbutt
“Excuse me, Ambassador,” a member of the newly formed Alliance Guard murmured to Arturo, “troops from Bog have arrived. A Lieutenant Terrance would like to speak with you.”
Momentarily diverting his attention from the Council’s discussion about observing different funeral rituals within the Alliance Army, Arturo replied, “Show them to the staging area and bring the Lieutenant here when he’s satisfied with his troops’ accommodations.”
On Arturo’s other side, Barry asked, “Da Knights are here? Would youse be all right if I go along to see ’em? Dis seems ta be windin’ down, an’ everybody’s gonna need some sleep soon, so how’s about if I come back dis afternoon?”
“That works for me, friend.”
Barry jumped out of his seat. In two leaps, he’d caught up with the Guard. “Lead the way!” he urged.
Space, Time, and Raspberries 
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