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Captain Harper of Fen’s Hive Elite left The Arids the same way she’d arrived a week ago: hidden in plain sight among a cloud of desert bats. At the border, deepening dusk covered her departure from the colony to deliver her covert mission report to Queen Lilian.
The Queen granted her an immediate audience.
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Sirehta’s brothers had spread the word among The Arids’ disaffected residents of a meeting that might save their futures. Now the meeting place was crammed with silent creatures. Cahret rose from his coil to face those who had answered the call.
“You are here because you hate tyranny, yet you do not know how to stop a tyrant. Alone, you hide in your own defense, but you believe you are too weak and helpless to protect anyone else.”
Shifting beneath a hard skin of shining scalloped scales, a pointy-faced insectivore lumbered to her feet. “Each of us grows to become our own protector. We can’t be responsible for anyone else.”
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“ The last time we saw Elliot, he was leaving the Freelands, headed to Bog with Knights of Service Barry and Trevor to help prepare for war. He didn’t even know Cassandra might be pregnant. So what’s up with that?” You. Justifiably.
“I live to serve. . .” Me
~~~
Sweat dripped from Elliot’s face onto the latest stack of provisions he and his team had prepared. The urgency he felt had deeper roots than the need to get Bog ready for war. He hadn’t seen his exquisite Cassandra in a week.
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“Man, maybe we should give Sam and her mom some privacy to work out their feelings. What about those snake guys King Arnie sent to The Arids on a secret mission? How’s that going?” You might be thinking.
“All righty, then. Meanwhile, out in The Arids…” Me, accommodating as ever.
~~~
“I hear you’ve been looking for me.” Girdliz’s soft, fuzzy voice drifted down from the boulder through heat-shimmered air onto Sirehta’s back as he slithered past over the relentless dust of The Arids.
Raising his head… his neck… his body to cock an eye at the stony little lizard, the viper nodded like a drowsy sunflower in a summer breeze. “Yes. I understand you are no friend of the General.”
Scrunching his forehead to scrape its scales together, Girdliz jittered from foot to foot. “He’s scary,” he confided. “Scary and mean.”
“And your fear makes you helpless?” Sirehta asked.
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Queen Madalena lifted her chin. “You do remember me. Good. I know I’m not welcome here, so I’ll stay only a minute. I have to ask you about the war your people are stirring up in the Freelands. Why? Why bring your troubles to a region where people just want to live in peace?”
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They’d done it. The new Alliance Council had crafted an agreement every tribe in the Freelands agreed to honor. Well, every tribe but one. The Hiverarchy of Free Bees had declined all invitations to join the proceedings.
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“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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Flying to hang in front of Sirehta, the General scraped a sparking red powder from his back with a rear leg, and said, “To seal your commitment, each of you will submit to marking. Allow me to demonstrate. Pietro!”
Scuttling forward, the little Stinger stopped directly below him. The wasp descended to press his foot against Pietro’s back which began to sizzle and steam, leaving a grooved scar. The General rose, scraping his back again. It was only then Sirehta noticed the youth’s carapace bore countless identical marks.
“Is this agreeable?” the wasp asked.
Sirehta waited for each of his brothers to nod in approval.
“It is,” he replied.
Lowering his head, he resisted his instinct to snatch the General out of the air, and accepted the searing pain without flinching.
So it was with each serpent.
Instructing Sirehta to remain behind, the General divided the viper force into pairs and sent each team in a different direction.
“Your first assignment is to scout to the edge of the Arids and rid the region of any who don’t belong here. Report back to me at dawn.”
“How are we to know which don’t belong?” Cahret asked.
“Residents are marked. Report back at dawn.” General Hai retreated to the cavern without a backward glance, followed by his loyal throng.
The General’s response chilled Sirehta’s blood. Alone, he watched his brothers blend into the night until a tiny voice coming from a chink in the wall caught his attention.
“Psst!” it insisted, “I know who you are.”
To be continued. . .
Previously, on Elliot’s Adventures ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Next time . . .
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Incautious, the voices grew louder and more distinct the closer the vipers crept. Cahret slithered up the side of a coarse rock wall to peer over its horizon onto a bed of chattering Stingers.
“…but the bat should’ve been ours — we held her down,” one complained.
“Yeah,” another echoed, “what’d that old Crone do she should get it?”
“Not so loud!” the largest ordered. “You want the General to hear you whining? He’s not gonna keep her around forever, and after he’s done with her, who do you think’ll be feasting then?”
“So we’ll get the old bat in the end, huh?” the first one gloated. Shrieking laughter pierced the sky.
Cahret slipped over the rocks to call through the darkness. “Can you take us to your General?”
Below, a flurry of scurrying answered.
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While inky night trickled over the Arids, Sirehta and his brothers wound their way toward the enemy’s base. Wary of night fliers, they had watched the skies and seen only one owl who must already have eaten or had no stomach to fight a writhing nest of vipers-on-the-move for a tasty dinner.
The Brothers numbered 17. None had remained behind. All were proud to repay the King of Bog for his kindness and for the damage they’d caused before they learned the truth about the Rebels.
“Sirehta,” Brother Cahret began, “is this to be our life now, spying for a King preparing to go to war?”
Space, Time, and Raspberries 
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