Thread Slivers (Golden Threads Trilogy), page 31
The officer straightened and looked at Duke with outrage and a mix of something else Elades couldn’t identify. “What is the meaning of this, Duke? Why do you insult us so boldly and force the conflict?”
Duke looked at him squarely. “You killed one of mine. One whom you knew was off-limits. Your own petty bastard Grand Warlord killed another one of mine, and the last heir to the realms, in exchange for a trinket that would no longer work. You are up to something, and I am going to find out what it is. Your choice is surrender all you know and I will let you walk out of here alive with your armor, weapons, and provisions to get you back to Hisuru Amajoo. You can carry a message from me that the Nhia-Samri have exactly four cycles to abandon every outpost, every station, every tie to the realms because after that time I will hunt them just as you hunted the orcs to extinction. If you do not accept my offer I will begin my hunt with you and yours; and your heads with my message stuffed in every mouth, and every odassi, broken, will be sent to Hisuru Amajoo. Either way you will carry my message to the bastard Shar-Lumen.”
The Nhia-Samri officer actually staggered backward a little at Duke’s declaration. He never once took his eyes from Duke’s. After a moment Duke asked, “What is your decision?”
The officer straightened standing taller. “Either way we are likely dead. There is no surrender, no compromise. One path holds honor, the other disgrace. You leave me no choice. The Nhia-Samri are absolute. Do you desire time to prepare?”
Duke used his front paw to tap the emerald. The mantle dropped off, and as he bowed his head allowing the pouch to fall beside it. He then stood and did what could only be a described as a bow to the officer. “So be it. No, I do not.”
The officer returned the bow and drew his odassi. Duke launched at him, but he dove under and rolled back to his feet while striking at Duke’s underside with one of the blades. The blade slide through Duke’s fur but had no effect. Duke landed and spun, diving low, trying to get the officer’s legs. The officer danced out of the way, stabbing out. Duke twisted, preventing the stabs from making contact. The officer leapt at Duke before the wolf could come fully around. This time a blade managed to strike into Duke’s back shanks.
Duke growled. “First blood is yours. Last blood will be mine!” He spun and nipped at the officer, who was forced to dodge; Duke predicted the dodge and adjusted for it. His teeth managed to grab part of the officer’s armor. Duke flipped his head and the officer was thrown five feet to land in a pile. Duke spun and lunged at the pile. The officer tried to roll out of the way, but Duke was too fast and trapped the officer’s arms under his front paws, just as he had done the day prior at the gate.
Duke yelled, “For Vestul and the Realms!” Biting down, he ripped the officer’s head off by the exposed neck.
With the death of their officer the Nhia-Samri screamed as one, drawing their odassi and rushing Duke. Duke leapt high and over one whole rank, yelling, “Daggers! Do you want to live forever? Get to work!”
Not exactly the codes we agreed on, but what plan ever survives the first engagement? “All Daggers attack!”
Four squads of Daggers rolled forward, screaming and drawing weapons. The two waves met loosely on the street and park directly in front of the house. Knives sang everywhere; Daggers and Nhia-Samri fought viciously. Duke spun, grabbing a Nhia-Samri by the arm and throwing him into a group of others. Duke didn’t waste any time, he dove right after him, yelling, “Hey, I’m not done with you yet!” Duke bowled over ten Nhia-Samri who tried to cut and stab him, but he danced around them, stepping on chests and heads like a prancing war horse. Ten more Nhia-Samri lunged as one against Duke before any other Daggers could get there. The wolf howled with pain and instinctively bit at what had hurt him. A Nhia-Samri lost his arm to that bite, but he stabbed again with the other. Duke jumped aside; picking up one of the ones from the ground and using him like a club, he smashed the one-armed Nhia-Samri away.
All of the Daggers attacked in groups of three to each one Nhia-Samri, as ordered. The technique worked very well. Nhia-Samri were falling at a tremendous rate, but so were the Daggers. In the distance Elades saw some people leaving the house rapidly, carrying boxes. “Echo! Get the escapers! Don’t lose what they are carrying!”
Twelve Daggers jumped out of combat and gave chase. Elades fought with Nulla and Essen; they killed Nhia-Samri after Nhia-Samri. Still the fight went on. Looking around, he saw that at least two dozen Daggers were down. Duke was dealing with six Nhia-Samri by himself; it looked like there were six Daggers downed there too. “Duke’s lost his support, move it!” They tried to force their way to Duke, but the numbers were just too much. It took too long. Duke had dozens of wounds and was bleeding profusely by the time they got to him, but still he fought on.
The Daggers rallied around Duke. The Nhia-Samri on Duke were obviously the better fighters, it was hard to get past their guard. Duke yelled in frustration, “You don’t hurt ‘em if you don’t hit ‘em. Merge six-to-one! Don’t worry about me!”
With that he rolled over a pair but they stabbed him deeply and he fell. Another Nhia-Samri sliced Duke’s side open as he fell. The Daggers all screamed. Teams began fighting harder and harder. The Nhia-Samri were down to about a quarter of their original number, but the last ones where tough and half of the Daggers had fallen as well. Elades cut across one, who managed to parry as Nulla stabbed him. Turning, they tried to attack the back of a group of three Nhia-Samri who were covering each other. “Two more sets here, now!” Some other Daggers joined the fight, but they couldn’t get in. Daggers were beginning to fall faster than Nhia-Samri.
Elades tried to coordinate some of the chaos, but it was looking like it might be a toss which side would win. A loud outcry was heard. Elades looked over and it looked like every street and alley was disgorging guards, and at their lead was Lord Dohma. The guards screamed and dove into the fight. Dohma and three other guards joined Elades’ group. “Lord Dohma, you need to not be here.”
“I outrank you, Commander. I serve the realm. Now kill these bastards, damn it!” With that his blades fairly flew, as well as Nulla’s, and the Nhia-Samri were finally losing the fight. One of the three guards with Lord Dohma fell. The other two guards, grinning madly and fighting expertly, were both killing Nhia-Samri warriors and protecting Lord Dohma. Those are some well-trained guards. I didn’t realize the weapons training they got included that kind of hand-to-hand fighting. Blood flowed freely, making the ground slippery, and the gutters were filled with the red liquid of life. The last of Nhia-Samri fell, with ten guardsmen on him, including the two that had been with Lord Dohma.
Before the last Nhia-Samri hit the ground, dozens of green-robed healers and even more white-robed acolytes from the Temple of Dalpha had appeared; they began treating the wounded guards and Daggers. Elades saw the High Priestess come down the street carrying the Light of Dalpha, which glowed like the sun. Next to her was a beautiful woman in a green dress and cream blouse who looked more a princess than a healer. The High Priestess started responding to cries from her healers and moved with great speed, carrying the Light of Dalpha where needed, bathing the wounded in a bright glow of energies. The princess like woman was also a magical healer; she moved as fast as the High Priestess, bending and touching the indicated fallen Dagger or guard with her bare hand which glowed for a moment before running to the next in need.
Lord Dohma was lending a hand to the healers and was being guarded by a Dagger and three guards. Elades looked for Lord Dohma’s two personal guards from earlier, as he wanted to congratulate them, but he couldn’t see them. Looking over the field of bodies, Elades saw that Duke was not moving and ran over to his fallen body. Feeling the wolf’s bloody side, he found a faint pulse, but Duke was bleeding from dozens of wounds and a two foot long open cut on his side was peeled back revealing bones and muscles while blood poured out like a river to the ground. “Duke needs help!”
The strange woman in the simple green dress rushed over. She ran her hands over Duke’s bloody sides and even stuck her hand into the deep cut which went down his side. She looked worried and then glanced at Elades for a moment. Her large eyes took on a determined look and she turned back to Duke speaking very softly into the wolf’s ears. “Oh Duke, beloved of Argos. There is need too soon to wait.” She knelt and embraced the great wolf’s bloody neck in a hug. Her hands and arms glowed with a soft green light which spread over the whole of Duke’s body. Duke’s larger open wounds closed before his eyes. Lord she is the most powerful healer I have ever heard of!
Duke’s head lifted slightly and he groaned. “Did I drink too much again? I have an awful headache.” His eyes were glazed slightly, and as he looked at the girl his eyebrows furrowed together. “Dalpha, where’s the aspirin? And why’d you change your hair?” Then Duke’s eyes closed and his head slumped to the ground but the wolf was breathing deeply as if sleeping.
The woman smiled at Duke and then shakily stood looking at Elades with her deep emerald eyes. She looked very pale and her legs seemed unsteady. “Worry not, he’ll be a little mobile in a few days and normal within two or three weeks.” She turned and started to walk away, her legs wobbled unsteadily as she moved off.
Elades noticed that her clothes, arms, and hands were still perfectly clean. “Who are you?”
“A healer, of course,” she answered over her shoulder.
Elades looked at Duke and then back, but she was gone. Damn! People are vanishing a lot today. He looked around and couldn’t see her anywhere. Who in the Lord’s name was that? Damn it! I hate dealing with holy types! Sorry, Lord.
Duke’s nose started twitching like it itched. Duke mumbled “Blood?” His head rolled slightly upright and he opened his eyes. His eyes were clearer and he looked around not moving his head but sniffing deeply. Duke’s eyes slowly cleared and he raised his head to get a better view. “Oh ya, the fight. Commander, report.”
Elades couldn’t help it, he felt relieved to see Duke was going to be OK. He stepped up to his commander and placed his hand reassuringly on Duke’s shoulder. Elades looked around before answering. “Casualties — many; number of dead — not known; combat efficiency — we won.”
“Good boys. Now burn it all down. There will be nothing but traps there. Collect all the heads and odassi. Don’t handle the odassi with anything other than thick-gloved hands. Make sure to keep the commander’s head and odassi separate. I’m going to take a little nap now.” With that Duke put his head down on the bloody ground and closed his eyes once more. Elades heard Duke softly chuckle and say “yep, that should about do it. Bet they remember me now.”
Chapter 14
Journeys begin with a step
“MILORD, HIS EXCELLENCY REQUESTS your presence.”
Dohma looked up from the papers his sister had been showing him. The valet before him wore Duke’s livery but was very young. He was short, with a perfectly soft, smooth face with the friendly happy smile of a child raised in a good home. The boy’s name popped into his head on cue. “Of course, Brolle, I’ll attend at once.” Dohma handed the papers back to his sister, grinning. “Duty calls, Sis.” She frowned at him as he stood, stretching. Any excuse for getting away from paperwork. I can’t see how my brother and sister can spend all day looking at papers. Moving to follow the boy he asked, “Is he up yet?”
“No, milord. His appetite returns but he still has pains when he moves.”
Brolle lead him out of the palace and down the main road to Duke’s residence. Hard to believe it has only been three weeks since I walked this very path with guards at my back to order Duke to the palace. Now I give the orders and Duke is a trusted friend. Duke’s guards opened the residence’s gate on cue so that he didn’t have to break stride.
The courtyard was a very busy place. Two new hay carts had been shined and polished, their sides replaced with a fine-grained wood, oiled and rubbed to a beautiful rich look. The wheels had been painted a glossy black with red trim. If it weren’t for the gruesome materials being carefully arranged on the first cart he might have taken it for a party cart for an extravagant celebration. Instead, one cart was being loaded with the severed heads of the Nhia-Samri after a slip of paper had been rolled and inserted into each of their mouths.
The second cart held just as strange a sight. Four blacksmiths had been called in and instructed to use their thickest gloves in handling the odassi blades. They worked in pairs. Each blade was carefully lifted by one blacksmith and held in an exact position on an anvil. The second blacksmith would then position one of the commander’s odassi at a specific angle so the angled straight-edge at the tip was squarely across a symbol on a copper band that was at the base of the odassi blade. Then the two blacksmiths would look at each other to be sure each was ready. Finally the one holding the commander’s odassi would strike the back of the blade with a hammer, driving the commander’s blade through the copper band. The effects of this were dramatic to say the least. The commander’s blade would spark and glow red; the second blade would make a sound not unlike a cry of pain. Fire would explode from the symbol and the copper band would snap open; the blade fractured in a perfect line down the middle. When complete, the commander’s blade looked as if nothing happened. The other blade was split, and the copper band remained attached but with its edges curled outward. The broken blade would be placed in the cart reverently and then the process repeated. On the side of the yard were some other tools Duke had special-ordered, which would be used to break the band of the commander’s last blade when the last odassi band had been split.
Not really sure what it is about those blades, but seeing this I am not sure if I should be more afraid of them or that Duke knew how to do this. The boy ran ahead a little to open the door for him. Once again he walked through the beautiful foyer, which was a complete contrast to the scene in the yard. Following where the page pointed, he walked to another set of doors, which the page jumped ahead and opened for him. Stepping through the doors, he was in a grand hallway that lead to Duke’s private rooms. He marveled again at the size of the doors and the unique large handles that would allow Duke to open and close them himself if he wanted to. Everything in this place is scaled to Duke, which makes it just grand by design. Two guards were stationed at both ends of the hall as well as a pair flanking the large double doors to Duke’s sitting room. A guard quickly opened the door for him, letting him walk in unimpeded. The level of service Duke commands is amazing. These people serve him with a speed and rapidity I didn’t think possible, and they all love him, which tells much about that old wolf.
Ladro was sitting at a secretarial desk with two stacks of papers, one on each side, with a single sheet of paper before him, all destined for the mouths of those heads. Ladro put Duke’s seal on the one in front of him, placing it on the left stack and taking an identical paper from the right stack and carefully reviewing it. You really have a flair for dramatic overkill. I can imagine the effect of receiving a message stuffed in every mouth of the severed heads of their own men. Thank the Lord and Lady you are a friend and not an enemy.
Duke was lying propped up on his side on a pile of pillows in a large mound against one wall. The wolf’s head came up as he walked in. “Ah Lord Dohma, thank you for coming directly.”
“Excellency, I live to serve. What do you require?”
“I thought you should like to take a light snack with me and listen to a report I am about to get.”
Dohma noticed that a table had been placed near Duke’s head with a comfortable chair. The chair sat on the wall side of the table, angled to be able to observe the room as well as comfortably speak with Duke. “Both sound far more entertaining that what I was doing.”
Duke chuckled then winced. “Oh don’t make me laugh, my innards are still re-aligning and it hurts. I take it you were doing your administrative duty.”
Dohma took the initiative and sat down. “If that is a polite way of phrasing ‘boring paperwork’, you are most correct. I cannot imagine why any pirate would desire to take over a country. It is far too much work.”
Duke put his head down on a pillow that kept his head significantly raised. “And that is why Damega and possibly most of his ancestors ran away at every mention of resuming the throne. He felt he could serve people better by being with them, and he got to have an adventure or five.” Duke pinned him with a serious stare. “You, sir, need to learn to delegate.”
It was Dohma’s turn to laugh. “I know how to do this. I was Captain of the Guard after all. I know well the usefulness of empowered people. The problem is we still haven’t sorted out who we can trust. My family will not allow corruption to reign in our government again.”
Duke looked at him quietly for few moments. “Dohma, close your eyes.” It was a sign of how much he trusted Duke that he complied instantly without even thinking about it. “Now listen carefully, do not analyze anything. I want you to answer my questions with the first thing that comes to your head. Do not talk except to answer my questions.”
“Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Now, what is your name?”
“Dohma Gerani.”
“How old are you?”
“Thirty-five.”
“What is your sister’s name?”
“Ellua Garana.”
“How old is your sister?” Duke went on, asking simple question after question. Every time he answered, Duke asked the next. There was no pause. Finally Duke asked. “Who should be Dockmaster?” Dohma answered instantly, “Baroness Morthan.” His eyes snapped open, looking at Duke, who was smiling.
