Tavi nodded. “I sent scouts by land and air.”
“Expected you would,” Varg said, showing his teeth in a gesture that might have been meant to be an Aleran smile of approval—or a Canim gesture of threat. Given Varg’s personality, Tavi decided it was probably both. Varg knew Tavi well enough to anticipate his reaction and had wanted him to know it. Such ability was an invaluable asset in an ally. In an enemy, it was terrifying.
Max snorted out a breath, and observed, to Nasaug, “You fellows throw out the most complimentary threats of anyone I ever met.”
“Thank you,” Nasaug said gravely. “It will be an honor to kill one so courteous as you, Tribune Antillar.”
Max barked out a belly laugh and bowed his head slightly to one side, showing his throat to Nasaug. The younger Cane’s mouth lolled open in a small Canim grin.
They waited in silence for several more minutes as the crowd continued to grow.
“Ah,” Tavi said.
Varg glanced at him.
“That’s why the Queen hasn’t spoken,” Tavi explained. “She’s causing her image to appear. And she’s waiting for word to spread about it, so that there’s time for an audience to gather.” He frowned. “Which means…”
“Means she can’t see through it,” Varg rumbled. “She isn’t gaining intelligence this way.”
Tavi nodded. It would explain how the vord Queen was making multiple images appear. Sending the projection forth wasn’t the difficult part of the watersending. Bringing light and sound back from the other side was the difficult part. “She wants to speak to us,” Tavi said. “Everyone, I mean. Crows, she must be causing this image to appear in every body of water large enough to support it.” Tavi shook his head. “I wish I’d thought of that.”
Varg grunted. “Handy, in time of war. Issue orders to the populace. Alert them to enemy movements. Keep your makers from being taken by surprise. Tell them what you need produced, save the time lost to waiting on messengers.” Varg narrowed his eyes. “Vord Queen doesn’t need any of that, though.”
“No,” Tavi said. “She doesn’t.”
“The vord are orderly. Logical. She must have an objective in this.”
“She does,” Tavi said. He felt his mouth harden into a line. “It’s an attack.”
The image stirred, and silence fell over the gathering.
The vord Queen lifted her hand in a gesture of greeting. There was something unnatural in the gesture that made it look like a formal motion, as if she was consciously forcing the movements of her joints to adhere to constraints to which she was not accustomed.
“Alerans,” she said, and her voice rang out loudly, amplified to be heard for hundreds of yards in every direction. The Canim nearest the pool folded their ears back against their skulls and erupted into a chorus of snarls in reaction to the explosion of sound.
“I am the vord. I have taken the heart of your lands. I have laid siege to your strong places. I have slain your First Lord. You cannot destroy me. You cannot withstand me.”
Silence fell for long heartbeats. The vord Queen let the words sink in.
“The vord are eternal. The vord are everywhere. Among the stars, between the worlds, we conquer. We grow. Against us, no victory is possible. You may withstand us for a time, but in ten years, in a hundred years, in a thousand years we will return, stronger and wiser than before. We are inevitable. Your kind is doomed.”
Another silence. Tavi looked around at the crowd. Every face was fixed upon the image of the vord Queen. The Alerans looked pale, or sickened, or simply stared in fascination. Canim body language was more difficult to read, but even the wolf-warriors seemed subdued. This was the face of the creature who had all but wiped out their entire civilization—millions upon millions of Canim, entire nations, the smallest of which was nearly half as large as Alera herself.
But regardless of the individual reaction, every person there watched.
They listened.
“I bear you no personal hatred or animosity. I have no desire to inflict pain or suffering upon any individual. I do what I do to protect my children and allow them to prosper. This world is their legacy. They will have it.”
The image moved, deliberately lifting her slender, pale hands. She drew back her hood, slowly, to reveal the exotically beautiful face of a young woman—one who looked, in fact, very like Kitai. She had the same high cheekbones, the same long, fine white hair, the same sharp cleanliness of features softened by full lips and wide, canted eyes. But where Kitai’s eyes were brilliant green, the vord Queen’s eyes were black, faceted like an insect’s reflecting the light in a mesmerizing, alien glitter of colors.
“But I am willing to offer you this chance, Alerans. There need not be war between our peoples. I will take your cities. But for those with the wisdom to bow before the tide of history, I will provide places of safety in which you will be permitted to govern yourselves, to support your families, and to live out the natural course of your lives in complete autonomy, save for this: You will not be permitted to bear children. This is within my power.
“The war can end. The fighting can end. The death and famine and suffering can end. I will open the Amaranth Vale to be resettled by your people. And while you are there, you will have my protection. No outsider will be permitted to harm you. The full might of the vord will shield you. My power will allow you to live long lives, free of every pestilence and plague known to your kind.
“I beg you to see reason, Alerans. I offer you peace. I offer you health. I offer you safety. Let the strife between us end. Your leaders have not protected you. Your Legions have been laid waste. Millions of lives have been lost to no purpose. Let it end.
“I make you this offer. Any Aleran who wishes to enter my protection must do only this: Come, unarmed, to any part of the world within the sphere of our control. Tie a band of green cloth around your arm. This will be the signal to my children that you have bowed to the natural order. You will be fed, given care, and transported to places of safety, freedom, and peace.”
There was nothing but silence.
Bloody crows, Tavi thought. That’s brilliant.
“Fail to set aside your irrational need to continue this conflict, and you will leave me no other choice.” Her hands rose to replace the hood, veiling her alien beauty again. Her voice dropped to a quiet, calm, uninflected murmur. “I will come for you.”
Tavi stopped himself from shuddering, but only barely. Max didn’t bother to try.
“Tell your neighbors. Tell your friends. Tell any who were not here to see that the vord offer you peace and protection.”
Silence reigned. No one moved.
Max said, very quietly, “Peace and protection. You think she’s serious?”
“No children,” Tavi murmured back. “A stranglehold takes longer to kill than does a clean thrust—but it makes you just as dead.”
“You don’t feel it when you go, either,” Max replied.
“At least now I know why,” Tavi said.
“Why what?”
“The vord Queen is keeping a steadholt of Alerans captive, near Alera Imperia. Like animals in a zoo. It was an experiment, to see if it could be made to work.”
Max blinked at him. “How did you know about that?”
“Crown secret.”
Max grimaced. “If everyone heard this, in all Alera… Tavi you know that there are going to be people scared enough to do anything.”
“I know.”
“If we lose even part of our people to desertion or surrender, it could kill us. We’re at the brink.”
“That’s why she’s doing it. I said it was an attack, Max.”