Sweep of the Blade (Innkeeper Chronicles #4) - Ilona Andrews Page 0,35

hunter-gatherers, they remain so. If they were a republic, they remain a republic, and so on.”

“Yes. It is a known fact,” Nuan Cee said.

“The Mukama invaded the Holy Anocracy when the vampires were in a feudal period. The vampiric society, at that point, consisted of powerful clans led by warrior aristocracy and were bound together by a strong religion. The Mukama must’ve thought the vampires, so technologically behind them, were easy pickings. What do you know of the Mukama?”

“Not much,” Nuan Cee said. “They were a secretive species and this conflict happened a long time ago.”

“They were a predatory species,” Maud said. “They didn’t want the planet. They wanted the vampires themselves, particularly the children. The adults were used as the workforce and the children as a food source. The Mukama found children to be tender and delicious.”

Nuan Cee grimaced.

“The vampires retreated to their castles. Reducing castles to rubble would have destroyed all of the lovely meat inside, so the Mukama had to commit to ground assault. It was discovered that the Mukama didn’t do well in narrow enclosed spaces. They were an aerial species. They hunted from above. It was also found that the Mukama’s mass stun weapons didn’t work against a vampire in armor. It was a long war.”

“How long?” Nuan Cee asked.

“Almost two decades. At some point, about eight years into the conflict, the main Mukama flotilla lost contact with the orbital fleet dispatched to the vampire planet. It took them another decade or so to wrap up their previous engagements. Finally, they bestirred themselves and went to find out what happened. When they arrived, they found the orbital fleet exactly where it was supposed to be, in the system. The ships were intact and filled with vampires.”

Maud swirled her wine in her glass and smiled. “Nobody has ever met a Mukama.”

“No,” Nuan Cee admitted.

“But here we are, enjoying the fresh air of their home world.”

Nuan Cee startled.

“House Krahr was one of the original greater houses,” Maud told him. “They were entrusted with the planet of Daesyn to make sure no Mukama ever breathed its air again.”

She set her empty glass on the table. A little lees ran up and refilled it.

“When we started this story, I told you that a stable society is resistant to change. The Holy Anocracy is stable, Honorable Nuan Cee. They won. Why would they change? Their way of life has worked for them for thousands of years. They never stopped building castles or wearing armor; they just make them stronger. They never abandoned their faith, because it sustained them in their darkest hour. They cherish their children, they guard them like their greatest treasure, and they teach them to fight from a young age, because history taught them that children are both precious and vulnerable. Without children, the Holy Anocracy has no future. Above all, the vampires distrust outsiders. Nothing good ever came to them from beyond the stars. You are an outsider fighting against thousands of years of inertia. A single strange bird flying at a massive flock, trying to change its direction. The kind of change you are seeking can only come from within, from someone deeply respected, someone rooted in their society. Neither you nor I have that kind of clout. But I will speak to Arland the next time I see him. If I see him.”

“Oh, you will see him,” Nuan Cee said. “He is coming down the hallway now.”

Maud took a deep breath.

A moment later, Arland loomed in the doorway, carrying a large gray case. He saw her. “My lady.”

Helen waved at Arland. He took a step into the room, but the lees swarmed him, pushing him out into the hallway.

“You left her alone!”

“People were mean to her.”

“She was sad!”

Maud glanced at Nuan Cee. He smiled at her.

Arland looked at her above the lees, a pained look on his face, and raised his arms in mock surrender.

“I suppose I should find out where he was.” She sighed.

“Come see me anytime, Matilda,” Nuan Cee said.

She hadn’t heard her real name in years. Only her parents called her that and only in rare moments.

“I will,” she promised and meant it.

Maud stepped through the doorway into the hallway. Behind her the door slid shut, cutting off the lees and their outraged cries.

Arland glanced at Helen. His eyes darkened. “Who?”

“It was a formal challenge,” Maud said.

“I’m getting ripper cushions,” Helen told him.

Arland turned to Maud.

“Lady Helen challenged someone in the nursery, was warned not to fight, and did it anyway.