Thread Slivers (Golden Threads Trilogy), page 27
“Dohma, it is time you were truthful with me.”
Dohma spun and stared at Duke. “Your Excellency, I have never told you a lie! I am your servant and would never conceal anything important to the state from you.”
Duke looked at him. “Well, that is about the answer I would expect from a Prince’s Regent.”
Dohma felt the blood rush from his head and he was dizzy for a moment. Duke just sat and watched him. Upon regaining his composure Dohma said, “Excellency, I am just a guardsman, nothing more. I was not part of the usurpers’ family. I am from a humble family of servants.”
Duke shook his head. “Only a regent, an heir to the throne, or I could open this room. That is why they sealed it up from view. They probably tried to break in through the walls and ground, but discovered that this palace is not made of stone but something they had no chance of breaking. The door was always kept behind a tapestry, so most didn’t even know this archive was here. I suspected something like this, but without the true archive, or other artifacts that have been stolen or sold off, I couldn’t confirm my suspicions until this door was exposed. By opening it you have proven your bloodline. I know you are not me, so are you a regent or an heir?”
Dohma pointed at the closest chair. “Your Excellency, I need to sit.”
“By all means, relax. I see an excellent spirit there in that first rack — in the blackish bottle with the wines. Pour yourself a small glass and sit down.”
Dohma was too confused to think. He took the smallest glass he saw and poured himself an ounce of the fine-smelling liquor. I definitely need a drink. Holding the drink, Dohma practically collapsed into a chair. Looking around, he absently took a drink of the amber liquor. Fire blazed in his mouth; it moved with speed out through all his limbs and into his head. He felt power such as he had never thought possible. He felt as if he could fight a hundred men and not be tired. He felt his muscles relax and their energy suddenly restored.
His thoughts became crystal clear. He had been drawn to join the guard because his brother had joined the staff and his sister had taken up with the scribes. He had known his place from an early age, and had gravitated to the covenant and studied it deeply. He had been drawn to learn the laws of the land — some he hated instinctively, but others he knew to be right and just. His other guardsmen had followed him readily enough. He saw he was a natural leader and tactician. He could easily be a regent. He knew for certain he was not an heir, as that ancient line would be bolder and stronger than he. He wasn’t sure how he knew this.
He looked at the empty glass and then at Duke, who had been watching him closely. “What was that?”
“That was a several hundred year-old sharre.”
Dohma looked at his hand as if it was a traitor. “Excellency, that was a priceless treasure I just squandered.”
Duke shook his head. “No, that was a needed medicinal hit to the head of the Prince’s Regent to put him in working order. Just one of the many perks of your new position.”
“How can this be? My family are just simple servants!”
Duke tilted his head slightly. “Well, I didn’t expect to have to explain this... But, you see, a boy and a girl, when they are between about thirteen and sixteen, meet someplace private and they…”
“Excellency please, that is not what I meant!”
Duke laughed. “But that is what happened. Obviously some young scamp of the regents’ line had a tumble or three with a servant girl, at just the right time to save the line. If it had been the other way; a servant boy having a tumble with an already recognized regent’s daughter, the result of that tumble would have been welcomed into the family immediately, of course, and then promptly killed off with the rest. Since then your family has served the kingdom as best as it could. Your family probably remained close and did much to help keep all those fine records we are finding out there. Although your ancestors didn’t know it, the behaviors, loyalty, skills, and talents are kind of built-in. You are almost everything you were born to be. Only now you will complete yourself, as will your brother and sister. I have found the missing regents, and glad I am that your bloodline is not lost. I suspected you because of your actions before and during the transition of power, and also I liked you, which usually takes a few years and a couple of fights.”
Dohma shook his head. “I don’t want to rule.”
“That is good, because you will find you don’t rule so much as guide. Kingdoms have a life, and they need to be guided, but really they tend to work just fine without much interference. Lord Dohma, how old were you?”
“I’m thirty-five, why? Wait, why did you say ‘were’?”
Duke looked worried. “Do you have children?”
“No, I am not yet married. I have dedicated my life to the guard.” Then Dohma realized what Duke was worried about. “Excellency, my brother married young and has a wonderful son. My sister is twenty-six, with two children, a son and a daughter of her own born before she turned twenty. We are, however, all that remains of our family line, as many uncles and aunts were killed young, in the war.”
Duke shook his head. “Well at least there is something to work with here. No one can breed many kids anymore. Your sister is lucky to have had two children. You must make sure the little lads spread some wild seeds as soon as they hit puberty. Permit the girls to marry at sixteen to their heartthrob; trust their instincts for a husband. Remember the law that your line produces no bastards. Marry them to the ones they get pregnant if you must for propriety, but adopt and embrace all bastard relations. With careful work we can insure the safe continuation of the line.”
Dohma felt an old feeling of excitement and energy, like the days when he first joined the guard. Except this energy was still growing in him; somehow he felt younger. He stood and looked at himself. He felt different. “What has happened?”
Duke smiled. “The truth, a little mental adjustment, realization of an internal need; oh, and by the way you’re now about twenty-three. But don’t tell anyone, you can easily hide the backshift once at this age range. So you have about seven years to woo some damsel into your bed and make some brats of your own.”
“Twenty-three! Why does that only give me seven years, what happens when I turn thirty?”
“It is too long of a story for now. It isn’t by design or malicious intent, and the Gods try to compensate. I know you noticed older people never have children. The truth is men over thirty and women over twenty-five are sterile. The doctors will tell you it is just how nature works, and they are right, but for the wrong reasons. The Gods have purposefully and truthfully — as far as they tell it — directed possible blame at themselves with some of their teachings. The reality is that magic is dangerous for all creatures from our original lands, but is life-giving to the elves, dwarves, Gods, and creatures of magic. The ambient levels had to be balanced very carefully: just high enough to allow the creatures and peoples of magic to live, and just low enough to allow the creatures and peoples of our lands to live. But even at the safer lower levels magic still has some side effects; one specifically is that it sterilizes humans. We really didn’t have much of a choice, and the Gods try to make sure people live without much of the diseases of old age, giving everyone a good chance to at least know their great-grandchildren.
The end result is that from puberty men have about fifteen years of fertility; women only have about ten because they generate all their eggs up front. Kind of poetic justice for being too prudent, I think. So you must marry a woman who is as young as possible — eighteen or so would be great. It won’t be difficult once you are formally announced and installed as a Prince’s Regent. Every remaining noble will be tossing their daughters at you like candy. Trust your instincts there, too. When you meet the right one you will know.”
I can’t believe I am having this conversation. If magic is detrimental to humans and others need it to live I can see why this is kept quiet. “How did you restore my youth?”
“Me? Oh no, it wasn’t me, it was the sharre; that bottle was old when they bought it, so add on the five hundred years it was locked in here, combined with this room’s design to preserve everything and voilà — roughly six or seven hundred year-old sharre at least. I wouldn’t suggest squandering it to a drinking binge; the results might not be as good as you think. I suggest keeping it a family secret, and then one glass only in the direst of situations. I would guess each swig of that is worth at least twenty thousand crowns.”
Dohma felt a little dizzy realizing he had just consumed something so valuable. Then he looked at Duke, who wore a real smirk. “Seriously, getting too old without making the proper number of kids is a dire situation?”
“Hey, I am improvising here. We are just damned lucky you are who you are — and yes, I still think this was an appropriate use. Are you going to start questioning the word of a lord of the realm?”
Captain Dohma stood up in front of Duke. “If I feel I must.”
“Good answer. Now that we have confirmed that sharre is as old as I suspected please pour another glass of it and pour it down my throat.”
“Excellency, is that wise?”
“You’ve stepped up to the new role pretty fast, Lord Dohma.”
Am I questioning Duke? Looking within, he knew he was right. Those feelings he had always had, which helped him make the right decisions, were now even stronger. I am a Regent and I have responsibilities. I will not allow timidity to prevent me from protecting the realm. He looked squarely at Duke. “You showed me who I am. I serve willingly and gladly. You didn’t answer my question.”
Duke smiled. “Very good. I must admit that the whole bloodline thing is a bit stronger than I suspected. But this is good for everyone. As to my request, and it is a request now, for a shot of that treasure. There are Nhia-Samri agents in the city; they laid a trap for me, robbing me of one of my greatest senses, that of smell. We have garments from one of their officers and I need to track him down. They know all of this and are probably taking actions to cover their tracks. That sharre will give me back my full sense of smell in moments instead of the few days more I would have to wait otherwise. Which means…”
“That we might be able to ferret them out of their hole,” he said, finishing Duke’s sentence while pouring another glass. “The Nhia-Samri are accomplices in the usurpers’ actions and have committed an act of war with the kingdom by killing the last heir.” Walking to Duke carrying the small glass he held it up to Duke’s open mouth. “Excellency, may you make them pay double for their crimes.” Dohma poured the amber liquid into Duke’s mouth and stood back.
Duke swallowed and stood up, shivering. Duke’s whole body started to glimmer and he shook his head and sneezed. When Duke looked at him, his eyes were glowing like twin lanterns; then the light faded and the glimmering stopped. Duke sniffed the air and smiled. “It has been a very long time since I had sharre that old. Boy does it carry a hit.”
“Did I glow like that?”
“Of course, but not as much. My physiology causes it to be a bit more dramatic for me. However, yes, you did, and that is when I realized how old it really was. Originally I only expected it to be a few hundred years old, and let me tell you, even at that age it packs a punch. Now, would you mind letting me out of here? You really don’t want to see how I have to open this door.”
Unsure if Duke was joking, he decided it was indeed time to leave. He needed to talk to his family, find a new Captain for the guard, and start thinking bigger. Looking at the books as he moved to the door, he knew it was time to learn. “What are all these books?”
Duke looked at them. “Records, histories, secrets. You will find them all very interesting reading. First, however, you need to concentrate on that section over there, and this section here,” he said, pointing at two different areas.
Opening the door, Dohma asked, “Why, what are those two sections?”
“The first section contains the instructions for controlling the city. Congratulations! You get to read the owner’s manual. It is really boring stuff, mostly about required maintenance. You will find a few interesting things there though, please pay attention to it all. That second section is untouched noble family trees that were kept accurate, at least until the regents were killed off. We will be able to determine the precise timeline by comparing those to the other records we already have. I bet your sister will be more interested in that than you. You must learn who your nobles are and establish a functional and trustworthy bureaucracy. Nobles with much honor to lose and enough money to be immune from bribery make great heads of offices.”
With the door open, Duke walked out and stopped, and lifting his head high he breathed in deeply. “No, that can’t be!” he said, then he barked and ran. Can the Nhia-Samri already be here? Dohma ran after him, calling for more guards. Duke cut through the room, jumping over a couple of surprised clerks and through some doors that lead to the servants’ hall. He slid on the smooth floor and bounced off the far wall, using it to change his direction so he could turn down the hall. Dohma somehow managed to stay not far behind the giant wolf. At the end of the hall were a pair of doors that led to the kitchen. Duke stopped short of them, sitting down and sliding on his haunches through the doors and into the kitchen. Thankfully, they were not locked. Dohma, breathing hard, came up behind.
Duke was sitting there, on the floor, looking at the surprised kitchen staff, a team of Daggers with wide smiles, Duke’s secretary, Ladro, and a beaming head chef. The head chef crossed his arms and tried to look annoyed. “Excellency! I was going to surprise you with this!”
One of the Daggers said, “Well the hound is back, time for that hunt we had planned.” Dohma smiled at that. Yes, and I suspect they will not be ready for you.
Duke gave a look of retribution to the unrepentant Dagger and then looked at the head chef. “I am surprised! The heavens know, I am surprised! To have my sense of smell return to that odor was like the Gods themselves, descending to reward me for this day’s work.”
Five guardsmen rushed in, weapons ready, as the chef placed before Duke a platter of some kind of pastries which were tall brown spiraled rolls topped with a thick white icing. There were five other trays of these rolls that had just been pulled out of the oven. The Dagger lead waved his hand at the guards. “Put the weapons away boys, this was only a culinary emergency.”
Breathing deeply, Dohma took in the odor of these odd rolls. They smelled like nothing he had known before, yet his mouth watered at the unusual scent. “What are those?”
Duke bent down and shoved the tray over his way with his nose. “These, Lord Dohma, are cinnamon rolls.” He said it in such a way as to make the mere name a word of worship. “They are to be treasured by not letting them get cold before being eaten completely. This will be another perk of your new position.” Looking at Ladro, the Daggers and the kitchen staff, he added, “I don’t care how you did this, but thank you. Now, hurry up and give some to everyone and make sure to put some on a plate for me!”
The cooks did as instructed and everyone, including the guards, watched respectfully as Duke bit into one, closing his eyes with delight as he chewed loudly. Breathing heavily to cool the roll, he mumbled around the food, “Ah, they are still very hot! Oh wonderful, wonderful, it has been too long.”
Once Duke had finished the first cinnamon roll everyone took a careful bite of one. Dohma had to admit, they were better than anything he had ever had before, except for the sharre. Truly enjoying the flavors, he watched Duke slowly savor two more; he sure is an odd creature.
When they had finished, Duke licked his lips for some time. “Can’t think of a better way to start a hunt. Commander Alpha and Echo, river walk.” The Daggers, busy licking their fingers, as one looked at Duke, smiled and ran out of the room without a word. Duke stood and nodded to Ladro and the cooks. “Thank you again. I will find some way to properly thank you for this. Now, if you will excuse me, Lord Dohma, you need to go read a couple of books and take care of other business as you best can decide. I’ll be back to confirm your position in a more public ceremony later.” Duke looked at the guardsmen. “I name your Captain, and his sister and brother, Regents of the Realm. Their children are named Regent heirs by direct bloodline only. Witness this to all staff immediately; and now I will see about those pests we discussed, Lord Dohma.” Smiling, he turned and trotted out of the room and down the hall towards the front entrance, letting out a chilling howl, announcing a hunt had begun.
“Good hunting my friend.” He said to the empty space where Duke had just been.
He was surprised when Duke’s retreating voice called out, “Thanks… Now get busy!”
Turning, he saw Ladro was trying to stifle a laugh. Busy doesn’t begin to describe it. Looking at the guardsmen he saw they all were suppressing deep emotions as they looked on him, some with watering eyes. I wonder if they are just proud that one of their own has been given so much or if something inside of them knew who I was all along and is now joyous at the confirmation. This whole bloodline thing Duke talks about is a little strange. Walking out of the kitchens, he headed back to the throne room. I think I might look at some of those books, after I talk with my sister and brother.
Behind him the guards had formed into a personal escort.
“Two days. We have been cut off from almost every outpost, lookout, and direct operative. We are almost blind and stuck here hiding now for two days! Duke has Daggers out everywhere! The Daggers are watching for us and the guards are answering to the Daggers! This is totally unacceptable! When I told you to see to this personally, I didn’t mean ‘expose the whole operation and get us locked into this backward little city’! One thing! We only needed to get one thing and you missed it! Then you expose us, to kill off a possible witness, who wasn’t even a primary target. Now we are stuck, out of communication, and have no way to continue operations.” Urio-Larne paced back and forth in his library as he continued to rant.
