The queen of East River knew she was dying. Dr. Ragweed hovered over her, helping to ease her rapidly failing body back into the soft bed of milkweed-cotton. Getting up to relieve herself was increasingly difficult, and the queen despised needing assistance with such basic functions. In two short months she had gone from an active if aging ant, to a crippled wretch no longer able to walk the passages of the colony she ruled. Ragweed was young and skilled, something of a prodigy, but he could do little except ease her pain.
"It's terminal, Majesty," he had told her several weeks earlier.
"How long?"
He ran a hand alongside an antenna, a habit peculiar to the doctor. "Sun knows. A month, two? Maybe more. There's no way to predict its course."
The queen had accepted the doctor's statement stoically. So. Two or three months. Little time to do what must be done, plan what must be planned.
Her youngest daughter knelt at her bedside, concern and love in the princess' eyes as she watched her mother painfully return to the bed. The old queen was touched. She loved both daughters, but Hyacinth was special, for she was selfless. The queen wanted to reach out and pull Hyacinth to her breast, but she did not. Today is for truth and duty, and she must give this daughter a heavy burden.
"Thank you, doctor," the queen said. "Please leave us for a moment. I'll be fine."
Ragweed frowned, but gathered up his things and began to depart. As he did so, he whispered to the princess, "Try not to tire her out."
"I may be old, Ragweed, but I'm not deaf," the queen said. "And a little conversation won't finish me. Get on with you now." The doctor scowled and left the chamber, but not before throwing an admonishing glance at the princess, reminding her of what he said.
When the doctor had left, the queen caught her daughter's eyes and held them. Unlike May-Blossom who would always look away, Hyacinth unwaveringly returned the queen's piercing gaze with strength and affection. Though her eldest daughter was tall and stronger of body, the queen had chosen to put her faith in this little one, knowing her to be willful and clever. She would have to be very willful and much more clever soon.
"Daughter, my time is nearly over," the queen began. "There are things we must discuss."
"No mother," Hyacinth said. "Don't talk like this. You're still strong."
The queen patted her daugher's hand. "Tomorrow we'll smile and tell each other pleasant lies, but today is for truth. Agreed?"
Hyacinth nodded reluctantly but held her mother's hand tightly.
"It's an inconvenient time for me to go off and die on everyone, and no one regrets it more than me, but the fact remains that I am dying, so let's settle a few things. When I am gone, I want you to rule the colony. The baton may pass to May, but you must rule."
Hyacinth was shaken. All her life it was understood that May-Blossom would succeed to the throne of East River, while their mother would look on and continue to advise the new queen. Now her mother's life was unexpectedly failing, and she was suggesting Hyacinth should rule behind her sister's back. Hyacinth loved May-Blossom, and did not wish to hurt her sister. She shook her head. "Mother, May is eldest. The colony will expect--"
"Hush child. Listen and remember today is for truth. Your sister is simple. We both know it. In a time of peace and plenty she would be adequate, but we have neither peace nor plenty, and she lacks the wits to deal with either West River or our own Council. Too many in the Council want May to be the next queen; they know she's weak-minded and would yield to their wishes. If I name you heir, they'll veto the succession. Even Mesquite would vote against me; he'd know he couldn't muster enough votes to win and he's too cagey to waste his influence on hopeless battles." Privately the queen cursed the law that required the Council to approve a permanent succession. It was an East River innovation intended to protect the colony from bad queens, but like most laws it generally benefited the lawmakers. "So, May will take the baton and be queen, but you must rule. Rule through her, or rule around her, I don't care. But rule.
"Yes, mother." The air in the queen's chamber felt heavy. Hyacinth imagined the weight of the entire colony pressing down on the domed ceiling, waiting to crush her with the needs and worries of more than six thousand ants. She thought her mother would always be there, always keep the Council in check with her wit and allies, always rally new soldiers to defend against West River with her charm and spirit. Now all that was floating away like the seeds of a dandelion. Change was coming, sooner than Hyacinth had ever dreamed.
"You understand the need for this?" her mother asked.
Hyacinth nodded silently. May-Blossom would never stand up to the Council. Hyacinth had seen Whiteoak Sandduster whither May-Blossom with a glance that was not even hostile. Though her heart wanted to see May-Blossom become queen, Hyacinth knew it would weaken the colony. Her sister would be little more than a figurehead, not even a shadow of her strong-willed mother. "The Sanddusters would use her. They'd destroy us and bargain our future away to West River."
"Yes. Whiteoak is no fool, and he can be very persuasive. He'd soon have her saying what he wanted, and believing it was her own idea. Give him time and he'll populate the Council his people. He might even try to put that brat of a daughter on the Council. And there's just enough royal blood in that bunch that he might aspire to other ideas."
"He would not dare!" Hyacinth said automatically. But even as she said it, she knew in her heart that Whiteoak might indeed dare, if the conditions were favorable.
The queen studied her daughter and smiled as she saw Hyacinth was conscious of the extent of Sandduster ambition. "May trusts you and looks to you," the queen continued. "She'll do as you say provided you always get to her before Whiteoak or his lackeys do. You'll have to be constantly vigilant. You understand?"
"I do, mother."
"You will not be alone. The Toothworts will be behind you, and the Hightunnels. I'll see to it that the army begins loyal, but you must earn their continued loyalty. And I'll teach you about Night Bird. I know you'll make your own decisions, but if you take my advice you'll listen to Mesquite Hightunnel's suggestions. He's very wise. Also, bind Timothy Flintspur to yourself. He's brave and honest, and Mesquite thinks highly of him. Everyone likes him and if some lucky West River soldier doesn't kill him he'll make Councilant and be a powerful ally. But rely on yourself first or the rest will crumble and the colony will fail."
"Yes mother." Hyacinth said. Her heart quickened at the mention of Timothy, for as a young girl-ant she had had a terrible crush on the handsome ant, but her feelings had diminished when he took up soldiering and she saw less of him. There was no denying Timothy's positive and eager attitude brightened those around him. "I will do as you ask."
"I know you will." The queen looked kindly on the little ant that was her daughter. Hyacinth was over twenty, and despite her small stature and youthful appearance she was more capable and self-reliant than most on the Council. The queen was secure in her decision to put her youngest in this awkward position. May-Blossom would cede power to the Sanddusters through good intentions and witless decisions, and the colony would fail, for she believed Whiteoak Sandduster would yield to West River if it gave him control of the colony. If that happened, all the cunning of their ancesters and all the years of labor and fighting would be for nothing, and a traitor would rule in the name of the queen of West River. But Hyacinth loved East River and would fight for their independence; the queen had no doubt of it.
"Listen," began the queen, "I want you to go to Mesquite and--"
"Your pardon, Majesty!" The hanging moss of the queen's chamber parted to reveal a young lieutenant. His build was slight and he bore a scar over his left eye. The whip of one antenna hung at an odd angle. The queen recalled he was of the Alderhome family, but his name escaped her. She noted his stealthy glance at Hyacinth, who possessed the mixed blessing of beauty. "Yes, Lieutenant, what is it?"
"Majesty, Colonel Shellblower has returned!"
The old queen sat up, her illness and fatigue forgotten. "Are you certain? What of Mr. Toothwort?" She wondered at this event. Had Curry also returned? What news did they bring? Oh Great Sun, let it be peace!
"Majesty, only the colonel came back." The young ant held his weapon uneasily, hating what he had to say and trying not to let his gaze dwell on the princess. "Majesty, the colonel reports the others are dead and the mission failed. The Council is meeting to discuss his report. They respectfully request your presence. Majesty, I'm sorry. Mr. Toothwort was a fine gentleant."
The old queen closed her eyes and sighed. It was no worse than she had feared after the long absence of Toothwort's emissaries. There was no peace, and Curry Toothwort, friend and Councilant, was truly dead. But Mallow Shellblower was back, and that was something. Good old jolly Mallow. "Thank you son. Tell the Council the crown shall attend."
Hyacinth watched the soldier bow and depart. She knew him as Iris Alderhome. Though smaller than most soldiers, the lieutenant was said to be fierce as a hornet in battle. Hyacinth believed it. He was reliable and often worked directly for the Council now. Iris' news was hard though, for Hyacinth had long harbored hopes that the emissaries would succeed. Tears came to her eyes as she remembered Curry Toothwort, who was kind to her as a young girl-ant and taught her many things. Her love of music was a result of Curry's lessons with flute and lyre. Hyacinth recalled Curry sneaking her honey at dinners when her parents weren't looking. There would be no more secret honey now. "I'm so sorry mother."
"Yes. So am I." Unlike her daughter, the queen knew in her heart that Curry was lost, so the news did not affect her as much. "But Curry felt it was a good risk and I agreed with him. Perhaps something good will come of it yet."
The queen paused and took from her side a polished stick, as long as her forearm and painted with blue clay from the river. It gleamed from long years of service as the token of royal power. She held it out to Hyacinth now, the first time it had been offered to another since she took the crown. "Here. Take the royal baton for today. Go before the Council and attend to the colony's interests."
Hyacinth stared at the simple stick that represented so much. She felt lost. Mallow Shellblower was back and Curry was dead and West River did not want peace. The fighting and fear would go on and on. They would lose more subjects, more friends. Now her mother wished her to represent the crown in Council where they would weigh these important matters. How would she know what to do? What would she say? Many times Hyacinth sat fascinated at her mother's side in Council, listening to the endless arguments and fiery rhetoric. But what had once fascinated her now seemed terrifying. Where would she find the courage to face Whiteoak Sandduster?
She looked up to find her mother's eyes bearing down on her with great interest, the blue baton held out in a hand surprisingly steady for one so ill. There was trust and belief in her mother's eyes, and suddenly Hyacinth knew where she would find her courage.
Hyacinth accepted the baton from her mother's hand. She bowed low to her queen and departed for the Council Chamber.