Chapter 10
Walls work both ways
ORAHDA KNOCKED HIS BLADE SLIGHTLY to the side as he stepped inside Dohma’s guard, landing a rib strike which was very painful even through the padded sparing armor. Orahda said, “Action is better than reaction,” as he stepped lightly out of Dohma’s striking range.
Wiping the sweat from his brow, Dohma signaled an end to the practice drill and rubbed his chest where it hurt. “Orahda, will you ever grow old?”
The weapons master nodded and lowered his weapon. “My captain, you wound me! I am nearly as tired as you, and you are getting on in in years.”
Laughing, Dohma cleaned his sword and unbuckled the light leather armor, handing it to a page. “Don’t bring my age into this or I’ll go read your record.”
Orahda had been weapons master for the Palace Guard since Dohma was a child. He was of average height, thin but with rolling muscles. He kept his wiry black hair tightly braided with beads tied to fall down the left side of his head and over his shoulder in the Karkaian style, although his skin was much lighter than any Karkaian, even with its deep tan. He was dressed in the same semi-loose leather pants and leather fighting vest with its high neck and no sleeves, which he always wore. Orahda thought armor was a waste of his time and energy and never bothered to wear it.
Orahda rarely taught any student directly unless they were exceptional in some way, but oversaw all the training through a small staff of trainers. Many nobles had their children join the Palace Guard instead of the Navy or Princes’ Guard just for weapons training. This caused some problems from time to time as Orahda’s training also instilled strong morals and honorable values, which some nobles thought were an impediment to political necessities. Of course many noble children grew to be fine guardsmen who Dohma trusted with his life, even when they left to inherit their parents’ titles and responsibilities. Any who were found wanting were denied training by Orahda and eventually dismissed from the guard; this brought about many a heated political fight. Dohma had looked on Orahda like a loved uncle from early in his training and sometimes he fancied Orahda had similar feelings for him. Orahda oversaw Dohma’s training personally. It was because of his attentions that Dohma was able to rise to the rank of Captain of the Guard.
Orahda grabbed a water pitcher and drank deeply of it. He looked as fresh as when they had started practicing nearly a full two marks before. Watching the weapons master drink, Dohma shook his head. He should at least have the decency to sweat. Orahda’s hair was pitch-black, without a single strand of gray anywhere. I wonder how old he really is. He hasn’t aged my whole life and I would swear he looks only forty years. I am thirty-five and he was weapons master before I was born. He watched Orahda’s muscular arms flexing as the weapon’s master moved, showing the banded steel of his muscles. His tanned arms were crisscrossed with scars. His skin is probably tougher than the leather gear I wear.
A messenger stepped up politely. “Captain, the Princes summon you to audience in the throne room.”
“Better you than me, Captain. I’d tell them to get off their lazy butts and get in some practice. They are all starting to look pudgy.”
Dohma laughed. “Only you can get away with remarks like that, which is probably why they don’t summon you.” And I know they still resent that you never agreed to train any of them personally. Grabbing his shirt and belt, he started walking to the throne room. On the way he got his shirt on over the light padded undercoat, slipped on his belt and ran his fingers through his hair. By the time he got to the throne room the sweat had dried and he was at least presentable.
He entered the throne room through the side door; guarded, as always, by the Princes’ Personal Guard in their blue and silver livery. All three Princes sat their thrones on the shared semi-circle dais which took up a quarter of the circular room. Eight white marble pillars reached almost all the way to the domed ceiling, giving the room the look of a cathedral. Eight arched windows soaring two stories upward were placed between each pillar and completed the dramatic gallery. Between each of the arched windows were balconies with low banisters, used for musicians and by the ladies to observe the royal activities.
Dohma knew they saw him, and waited while they dealt with a Cabinet Lord’s complaints of animal noises in the night near the docks. They told him it was being taken care of and waved him out. Once the lord had left, only the Princes, their personal guard, and Dohma remained in the room. Emman, the eldest prince, motioned for him to approach. He stepped to the front of the dais and knelt, bowing his head. “My Princes, how may I serve?”
“Duke has ignored our orders and went out on the streets last night. Further, we have had reports this morning that he has hired not less than thirty Daggers and caused considerable damage to the Blue Dolphin. You are to invite him here, immediately. You are authorized to take whatever measures you deem necessary to achieve this. We expect him here within two marks. You may go.”
“My Princes, Duke is a Lord of Aelargo and entitled to the actions you speak of by the covenant of this land.”
All three princes frowned at this and the marshal of their private guard placed his hand on the hilt of his sword.
“Captain Dohma, you are lucky we are alone. We shall overlook this comment. You have two marks to bring Duke before us.”
Frowning, Dohma bowed and left by the main doors. Oh this will not go well. The royal foyer was filled with nobles, who flocked back into the throne room as he left. Dohma walked past the personal guards and sent one of his own guards, stationed outside the main palace doors, running ahead with orders to have a full detachment assemble at the palace. He ordered a second detachment to prepare for Duke’s very-likely objection to whatever the Princes were about to tell him, to be stationed near the palace doors and ready for possible trouble. With any luck this can be kept civil.
Duke’s own palatial home was only minutes from the Royal Palace. In only a half mark he was approaching the gates of Duke’s residence with his detachment of fifty guards. Inside the gates he saw not less than a hundred warriors who were broken into groups and talking. Servants were just removing some tables that had been about the courtyard. Damn, that is not thirty Daggers, that is a full platoon. It’s too late to withdraw; I really hope he is in a talking mood. Something about him makes me trust him more than my own princes, even though I have only met him once. Dohma stepped right up, stopping just in front of the eight guards at the main gate. “By order of the Princes, I must speak with His Excellency Duke at once.”
The guards looked coolly at the fifty guardsmen he brought. One of them said in a most casual tone, “I’ll ask if he is in.” Dohma watched the guard walk slowly through the crowd of Daggers, taking his time. The Daggers all turned to examine his detachment. Sweat began to accumulate on his brow, and after a moment, the Daggers turned back to their conversations. Dohma lost track of the gate guard when a Dagger ran past him to a squad close to the gate.
Dohma concentrated to hear what was being said; something inside told him it was important. He had always had these little feelings, and long ago learned to trust them. The conversation was faint but not beyond his exceptional hearing, which he had trained himself to focus so he could follow conversations in a crowded hall at a distance.
“Commander, Ticca’s patron has dispatched two communications, one to a merchant house requesting the diversion of any merchant ship to Breorchy to leave tomorrow; the other to the Guild, naming Breorchy as a likely source of information. She has also hired Nigan and Risy as guards. We spotted three horses being made ready for travel now. One is Ticca’s, the others belong to Nigan and Risy. Bravo reports the watchers have also intercepted the communications.”
“Damn it! That girl moves as fast as her uncle. I’d like to know what she has learned. This is all likely a diversion and she plans on intercepting the ship up river and taking her patron off the boat to proceed overland to their true objective.” The commander looked directly at the Dagger who had reported in. “Three, move fast.” At that the Dagger spun and ran out and down the street. The commander then gave an odd look at a Dagger wearing a turban standing with another group who had also been watching the exchange. The turbaned Dagger went back to talking with his own squad. The commander looked at the rest of his squad standing around him. “Two, pheasant shoot. One, ridge run with me.” The Dagger squad ran out of the gate and also headed towards town, but down the street the commander and a strike team turned west while the rest of the team continued on the main road until out of sight.
A surprisingly short time later a page came running out. “Captain Dohma, you are invited in.” The emphasis on ‘you’ made it obvious he was to leave his detachment outside. Please Lord, let him be in a good mood today.
He signaled his men to stay put and followed the page through the courtyard to an entry foyer as large as the throne room, with very expensive marbles and tasteful pictures on display. Duke certainly has good taste. This is far superior to the over-the-top decorations of the royal palace. Once through the foyer, a large, elegantly decorated connecting hall led into a formal dining room. As he stepped into the room he stopped, awestruck at the size of the table before him. It stood level with his neck. Looking down the table and feeling like a small child about to address his unhappy father, Captain Dohma saw the large wolf at the far end chewing on what looked (and smelled) like a man-sized pile of bacon. Duke sat in a throne that put every other throne he had seen to shame in its simple design, elegance and scale. He really knows how to make an impression. And I have the feeling he is not happy today. This sure won’t help his mood.
Duke looked at him with steel in his eyes. “Captain Dohma, I was expecting you much earlier today. I am afraid you have missed lunch. As to the reminder you are here to deliver of the little Princes’ request, you may tell the little princes to go suck on a hard candy. I will do as I please.”
Dohma tried to speak, but his throat refused to allow air through. Coughing to clear it, he shook his head. “Excellency, I do apologize for interrupting your meal; however, the Princes request your immediate presence. I have been sent to escort you with all the honors due a lord of the realm.”
Duke laughed and it sent chills down his now-sweaty back. “Oh, I bet they said that. You have a lot of nerve, Captain.” Duke then stared at him for a moment, making him sweat a little more. Still, he stood his ground. “I like you, Dohma, so for your sake only I will accept this honor you bestow on me.”
Thank the great Lord. “I thank you, Excellency. I assure you I am only here to escort you to the palace, with honors.”
Duke wiped his mouth on a napkin the size of a small tablecloth which was being held in place on the table, near his seat, by a device of some sort. He then stood and walked calmly around the table and, glancing at his personal secretary he said, “Ladro, so that I may honor your earlier request, you may stay... just in case.”
Ladro leaned backwards slightly as if he had lost his balance, his face going totally white. He swallowed a couple of times rapidly. Duke just scared him deeply with that comment. What has Duke been up to this morning? Ladro is the last person I’d expect to be scared of Duke — he has been in Duke’s personal service his whole life, from page to personal secretary.
Duke walked past Dohma, heading for the exit. Dohma set aside his contemplation of Ladro’s reaction and fell into step next to Duke out of his residence. In the courtyard, the Daggers stopped talking and looked at them as they came out. Duke walked casually straight to the gates, and looked back at the Daggers. “Time’s a-wasting, folks. You have your orders. Echo, river walk.”
Dohma’s hand went to his sword hilt but the all the Daggers simply said, “Yes, sir,” and went back to their conversations.
His guardsmen parted to let them walk through and formed up behind them as an honor guard. Duke walked with him back to the palace calmly, in total silence. This is totally unexpected. I thought I’d have to beg him to come.
When they reached the palace, Duke laughed, giving Dohma a knowing side glance when he saw the second detachment standing at honors just outside the palace entrance. Dohma signaled his men to stop at the palace entrance, with the other detachment, and followed Duke inside. He heard something from Duke that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle. Looking over at Duke, his large eyes sparkling with some private joke. Duke didn’t break stride or say a word, forcing Dohma to race ahead a little just so he could be seen as the escort. Duke nodded politely to some of the staff and dignitaries as they moved through the entrance hall into the throne room’s foyer.
Once at the entrance to the throne room, however, things changed. Duke didn’t bother to wait; he sprang ahead of Dohma and simply walked past the princes’ personal guards, shouldering the crossed halberds and men out of his way as if they were nothing more than reeds of grass. Not bothering to wait to be announced or addressed, he thundered out as he continued across the throne room, “What do you whelps want? I’m busy.”
Looking at the nearly full room of nobles and dignitaries, Dohma realized it was much more full than normal. The Princes must have summoned these nobles in order to make an example to them. Everyone quickly got out of Duke’s way; a few, upon looking him in the eye, bowed and then exited the room in haste. Yes, that is a prudent thing to do. I wish I could do the same.
Emman motioned the lord in front of them away. “Duke, we told you to stay in your residence and to not disturb our citizens. You went out last night and even damaged parts of our city. Now we have reports that you have hired many Daggers. We will not allow this to continue. You will pay the Daggers two weeks’ service and tell them to disband immediately.”
Duke stopped right where the marshal started to go for his weapon, and sat down, looking at the three princes with his ears laid back. “You are confused as to the order of things. I give the orders here, not you.” Dohma detected an odd tone in Duke’s voice and had the feeling that Duke was still laughing at something only he understood.
All three princes laughed at that, and so did many nobles still present, although the nobles’ laughs sounded nervous. Elur, the youngest, shook his head. “You are wrong. This is our kingdom, and you have no authority here, except what we grant you.”
Duke’s voice deepened, and carried a slight growl to it. “Have you whelps even read the covenant?”
I have, and Duke’s right. What is going on?
Elur laughed and his brothers chuckled too. Duke’s ears came up in curiosity. Elur, through his laughter, asked, “What use do we have of a dusty old relic?”
Dohma felt a shudder of surprise and Duke was surprised too. “It is the cornerstone of your family’s authority here. It is the charter that grants you the titles of the Princes’ Regents, which you have dropped to stylize yourselves as ‘the Princes’. Your family can’t forget its duties; it is part of your very bloodline.”
At this all three princes laughed. “Duke, oh Duke, you are the very best. Our family wrested this kingdom from the grasp of those fools long ago. I believe it was not long after you fled to the North. Our ancestors disposed of the last remnants of the ancient empire’s ridiculous hold here. It was our fleet of ships that set sail from this port to create the true kingdom of the Sea Princes. We are the only authority in the kingdom now. This is no longer the Kingdom of Aelargo; it is now the Kingdom of the Sea Princes. You really should look at some modern maps.”
Lord, they are traitors, from a family of usurpers. I know I have never liked them much; I swore to protect the kingdom from harm and to uphold the covenant.
Duke growled, which was enough of a warning. The marshal made a signal, and before Dohma could react, Duke moved. As Duke made to leap to the dais, however, heavy nets were thrown over him from the balconies. Twenty of the Princes’ guards piled onto him, using their combined weight and the nets to pin him in place against the floor. More of the Princes’ guards rushed into the room from the side doors, quickly grabbing and holding down the edges of the nets, effectively trapping the great wolf in front of the princes, who continued to laugh, joined by the remaining nobles.
Dohma’s heart and soul screamed at the treachery he was witnessing. What are they doing? He is a lord of the realm, how can I be party to this? Looking at everyone in the room, he didn’t see a single supporter. His hand moved and seized on the hilt of his sword, which the marshal took as preparing to aid them in subduing Duke, as he warned Dohma off with a smile of thanks. Dohma looked at the personal guards; they all had smirks or open smiles at this. He instinctively read them to the core and found them as traitorous as the usurpers. The personal guard has known this all, and they are loyal to the usurpers. Then his exceptional hearing picked up very soft chuckling coming from Duke. What can possibly be funny about being trapped under twenty guards and a net?
Emman shook his head and looked at Duke. “Poor Duke, to think you remain faithful to that dead line of lost kings. We long ago finished with that. Our ancestors uncovered Damega’s true blood line and struck a deal; his body in exchange for the trinket that used to sit there.” Prince Emman pointed at an alcove where an ornate gold book sat. “Of course the silly nobles at the time felt it best if we hid the fact that the kingdom’s relics where being sold off, so they made that excellent facsimile.”
Damega was heir to the throne? He has been styled a cut-throat thief and pirate. Could all I know of our history be wrong? This is too much — I must act. Looking around, he could see no way to help Duke or stop this. In his mind he heard Orahda’s sound advice ‘Steady, calm, wait for the right moment.’ He tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword, swearing he would kill the usurpers if he had the chance.
Duke’s voice lost all humor and he growled, “You dared to remove the archive? It was for the royal and regent lines only.”
“Exactly, you silly dog, and as we had all of the regent’s line buried out back, combined with the last of the dead royal line, it was no longer of any use to anyone. So why not sell it?”
“Your ancestors betrayed Damega?”
“Of course. He was getting out of hand with all that silly talk of freedom, education, and comforts for peasants; not to mention trying to establish a hidden militia outside of our family’s control. Of course I find it ironic that now, centuries later, we have built the schools and provided some of the securities for peasants that he sought to do. Aelargo was not nearly as rich, and those things do cost. Even more ironic that that militia has turned into a rabble of stupid mercenaries greedy for as much coin as they can steal from rich merchants and nobles.”
Duke said something in a low growl. Dohma could only hear a little of it and it sounded familiar.
“Oh, you poor dog, are you having problems breathing under all that weight?”
Duke growled a little, and asked, “A last question: who traded your ancestors a body for a useless relic?”
Elur laughingly said, “Why, none other than High-Lord Shar-Lumen himself. Who else would be so stupid and powerful?”
The other two princes looked at Elur in surprise. “Brother,” Emman warned, “You reveal too much.”
Elur pointed at Duke. “And where will he take this knowledge?” Then, waving at everyone else, he added, “And these are our loyal subjects.”
Just then a guard ran into the throne room. “The palace doors are being blocked!”
Emman stood and moved over to a window, asking in a very sarcastic tone, “Is it poor old Duke’s little army of greedy mercenaries — oh, sorry, I mean ‘Daggers’? I must see what this pitiful creature thinks will stop us.” When he looked out, his mouth dropped open and he stared.
His two brothers stood and started toward him as the guard answered, “No Excellency, the palace wall is rising, and metal doors are rising out of the ground — right through the stonework sealing the surrounding walls!”
Several lords, and Dohma, rushed to the windows to confirm that the palace walls had indeed risen at least fifteen feet, and metal plates had broken through the paving stones, rising up out of the ground, fitting perfectly in the grooves into which the current gate doors had been mounted. As they watched, the current gate doors and stonework brackets were crushed, causing debris to fall around the now-sealed entrances. More metal plates, which had spikes topped with large balls of steel every fifteen or twenty feet, were sprouting from the top of the palace walls. As Dohma watched, lightning began to dance on the surface of the balls.
“What is that?!” someone asked.
“That is to make sure none of you get away,” came an ominous, deep-throated growl from Duke. “You dare to brag about destroying the Duianna line and their loyal regents?”
The Princes turned, white-faced, and looked at Duke. “Guards, kill him!” they bellowed in unison.
A few nobles chose this moment to run out of the room. Duke pushed hard to one side, dragging the guards holding the opposite side of the nets towards him. Biting down on the net holding it and pushing hard with his legs, he used the slack he had made to create enough momentum to flip over onto the guards on the opposite side, crushing them with his weight. The guards who had been dragged with the net were catapulted, landing hard on the stone floor. Duke finished rolling, still holding the net with his teeth as he stood free; then Duke spun around, whipping the nets, sending the screaming guards who tried to hold on to it flying. Expertly, he spun around again, throwing the net over the guards who had been standing behind him.
The personal guards drew their weapons and jumped at him. He moved faster than Dohma thought possible for something his size. He attacked with teeth and paws, kicking two guards so hard they flew backwards a couple of feet, before landing on their backs with a sickening crack as their heads hit the floor. The princes bolted for a doorway, as did every other remaining lord and dignitary in the room. Duke grabbed another guard by the leg and used him as a club, beating away five other guards, and then threw the limp and broken body at some approaching guards, knocking them down as well.
Dohma smoothly drew his sword and ran it through the back of a personal guard. Pulling it, he spun, slashing the sword through the neck of another. The personal guards’ attention was on Duke, letting Dohma kill five more before they noticed he wasn’t on their side.
One guard managed to get in a good hit with his sword. Duke spun on him and took his sword arm at the elbow in his teeth. Dohma heard the crunch as Duke’s teeth went through the steel armor and bone, neatly amputating the arm. Duke spit out the arm, still holding the sword, and turned to the doorway, where the detachment of palace guards where just starting to rush in, weapons at the ready.
Dohma cried, “Palace Guardsmen, the princes are usurpers and traitors! The Royal Personal Guard are all knowing accomplices.” The remaining personal guard looked at Dohma in shock for a moment, just enough time for Duke to kill three more; knocking one down and standing on his throat while simultaneously picking another up, biting his midsection so the metal armor made a creaking sound and pinched off his screams; Duke used the body like a sledgehammer on the third. Dohma’s guardsmen’s shock wore off and they joined the fight. The few remaining personal guard were quickly dispatched.
Dohma walked around the room, killing any wounded, or pretending to be wounded, personal guards. He was pleased to see his own guards stab the dead bodies again just for good measure.
Duke watched him in surprise for a moment and then said something else which Dohma felt deep down he should understand but didn’t. When Dohma finished his work he stood in front of Duke and looked him in the eye. “Excellency, we,” he indicated the guardsmen, “serve the Kingdom of Aelargo. We all swore an oath to uphold and protect this kingdom and its covenant. With the public confession of the usurpers, I name them, and all their family and followers, traitors. I, and all the royal guard, stand at your command as a true Lord of Aelargo.”
Duke looked at him and then the guards. “Very good, Captain. You will detain every lord, lady and dignitary, informing them that I will be validating their status with the archives and all pretenders who confess before we discover them will be dealt with mercifully. As of this minute no one, save me, is to be obeyed until I order otherwise.”
Duke looked around the room and smiled, although with the blood and gore splattered over his body the effect was not as pleasant as he likely intended. “Nice fight, boys. You aren’t so bad. Now clean up this mess and start gathering everyone up.” A thunder clap was heard in the distance, and Duke turned to look in that direction, his ears, eyes, and nose pointing like a hunting hound. It was almost as if Duke could see through the distance to the source of the sound. After a moment Duke looked back at Dohma. “I am sealing the city. Once the palace grounds have been searched and all supposed dignitaries are accounted for, I will open the palace gates and you can do the same for the entire city.”
Sniffing the air, Duke shook his head. “Damn it, this is annoying. Echo Commander.”
A Dagger casually stepped out from behind a pillar. “Sir.”
Dohma and the other guardsmen stared at her like she was a ghost. How did she get here?
“Signal someone to find out what is going on at the west gate. Echo Squad, provide audible tracking queues, maintain noncombat distance, these bastards are mine. I want Emman first.”
The Dagger said, “Yes, sir,” and made a series of bird calls which were answered by another call outside the doorway.
Duke’s ears swiveled towards the sound. “Stay out of my way I’ll deal with those little bastards myself,” he said, and then he leapt at the doorway, followed closely by the Dagger.
Everything was as tidy as she could make it, but Ticca went over the mental checklist a couple more times just to be sure. Lebuin and Ditani were fairly well disguised as Nigan and Risy, and both had allowed her to shave their heads to enable gluing the wigs in place with the gum. Lebuin didn’t have the mass to properly replace Nigan, but with the padded armor under-layer he would pass very well from a distance. Of course, no one in the main room would be fooled for long.
Nigan and Risy had also transformed reasonably well and given that they were going to remain in the room and only go out to the dock very early in the morning. They should have no issue making a convincing Lebuin and Ditani.
It took a mark of practice before Ditani managed to imitate Risy’s walk. Lebuin was a quick study and mastered the basic movements for Nigan in only a few minutes, surprising everyone, including himself. So the only issue was direct inspection at fewer than twenty feet. I wish I could come up with a way out of here that didn’t involve walking through the main room, but anything we do would raise suspicions and possibly an alarm. Well, ‘preparation with boldness overcomes many obstacles’ as my trainer used to say to me. This is going to really test that idiom. At least I got a solid night’s rest without any dreams… I still feel marvelous with the dreams, but they are rather spooky in their detail and my ability to remember them so clearly.
Footsteps in the hall, which sounded about right, and a knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. “Who is it?”
Ditani answered softly, doing a fair imitation of Risy’s voice. “Ticca, it’s me.”
When she opened the door Ditani stepped in carrying two packs, then she closed the door and they all gathered around the table. “This pack is mine and still has just the clothes and other items I remembered. This one,” he shoved the second leather pack towards her, “was Magus Vestul’s, which I have never opened myself until just a few moments ago. You might want to look in.”
She took the pack, noting that it was as well-made as the boots and pouch. The pack was closed with a metal clasp that had a nice black patina built up on it. It also had a geometric pattern engraved on it that looked a lot like the one on her pouch, but this clasp was not designed to rotate. Pulling it over, she noticed that although it puffed out like it was full, it was much lighter than an empty leather pack. Opening it, she looked inside and was taken aback by the view. The view was as if she was looking down and through an odd lens into a very large room stacked with boxes, trunks, shelves visible all at once. The sight made Ticca feel a little dizzy so she sat down. Lebuin, on the other hand, put his head down close so that his nose was almost inside of the pack.
His eyes darted around and around. “Now this is interesting.” Before she could stop him he reached inside. She squeaked a warning, which he just ignored. As he reached inside, she saw the pack slightly deform, where his hand would be as if he was pulling something out of a normal pack. Lebuin pulled his hand out, holding a very large book that should have taken up the entire pack by itself. He grunted under the weight. “This is a little heavier than I thought.” He put the book down on the table with a loud thud; next, he reached in and pulled out a fishing pole (it kept coming out of the pack, like a silly magic trick performed by entertainers in the market). He then put both items back into the pack. “I would say this would be most helpful for any traveling Magus. You could carry almost an entire small house of things in this.” Looking in again, he frowned. “I don’t see anything that looks like a magical artifact or incantation book; of course, I wouldn’t have suspected the boots, or this pack, of being magical. Still, it might be a limitation we should observe until we are more familiar with how this works.”
Lebuin blushed slightly and shook his head at himself then looked at Ditani. “I’m sorry, this is really yours now, I shouldn’t have spoken as if was mine.”
That is interesting; he is trying to follow the Dagger code as well as imitate a Dagger. He might not be as self-centered as I first thought.
Ditani shook his head. “Ma… Lebuin, that is an item for a Magus, I should not desire to carry it. It is yours, I am sure Magus Vestul would have desired it to be thus. He was a kind and good man. I know he always had wanted to have a family but, although he married a few times, he never had any children. Consider this a gift from a father to his son, to continue his work.” Lebuin looked shocked and overwhelmed with emotion. He simply nodded and Ditani placed his hand on Lebuin’s shoulder knowingly.
Ticca stood and forced herself to look into it again. As she moved her head closer, things she looked at directly came into focus. Putting her nose as close as Lebuin had, she could see every item in perfect detail. Well that is how he was able to inspect the books so fast.
“There is too much in here to inspect it all now. I believe we are all ready and it is a full mark past noon. We should get going so we can be beyond the farming communities by dark.”
Lebuin was quickly putting some of his things into the new pack. “I have only ridden enough to be familiar with it. I really hope Risy’s horse is as intelligent and cooperative as he said.”
“Just try to look authoritative while you ride. Now remember, you two are following my command. That means you address me as ’sir’, and you stay a step behind unless I direct otherwise by signal or orders. You pay attention to what is around; you nod to any Dagger who nods at you. We walk down, out and around, mount, and then ride for the western gate. Lebuin, you give two pence and Ditani you give a bell in tip to the stable lads. Any last questions?”
Ditani and Lebuin both shook their heads, slipping their packs over their shoulders as Risy and Nigan had demonstrated. “No, sir.” Lebuin said.
Ticca smiled. “Not bad, I might make a Dagger out of you yet.” Grabbing her pack, she gave them a final check and then opened the door. She stepped out and made sure they closed the door solidly. Taking a deep breath, she thought, Lady, don’t be offended but I desire very much to not meet you today.
She assumed her command bearing, walking down the hall and straight down the stairs. Without looking behind she knew Lebuin and Ditani were following by the sounds of their footsteps.
In the main room she noticed the conspicuously empty Dagger tables. A few merchants looked at her and her escorts expectantly, but from her projected attitude of ‘on a mission’ they slouched in disappointment. Wonder if they were looking for me specifically, or just any Dagger.
As she passed the bar, Genne looked up at them and said, “Good luck, stay sharp.”
Smiling back at him, she replied, “And you too. We’ll be back, so don’t rent my room out.”
Smiling wide, he waved his hand in the air. “Nev’r crossed me mind.”
The new doors looked a little out of place, and the repair work to the wall was bright white, compared with the yellowed wall it patched. Duke sure leaves his mark. The new doors looked a bit heavier, and when she pushed through she was sure of it. Trying to prevent it from happening again, I bet.
Outside, no one was near, and it was an easy thing to turn left and then to walk around the inn via the alleyway to the stables behind. Their horses were standing there, ready. Ticca went straight to hers, attached her pack to the saddle, and then checked the horse and tack over. Everything was in excellent condition. As she mounted her horse she checked to see that Lebuin and Ditani had managed to pick the right horses and were already mounted. Good boys. We are almost clear. Now to get a few blocks from here and we will be clear of any prepared attacks.
Riding out of the alley, she turned right, heading southeast. Just have to make it past the market and then take the main trade road straight out of the gates. She concentrated all her senses on looking for the attack. They passed by the Dolphin and she spotted movement at the roofline. Using her peripheral vision she saw it was a Dagger she knew. What are you doing there? Must be working for Duke; but why watch the Dolphin unless Duke is somehow interested in whomever is after Lebuin? Let’s see if he’ll help. She made a great show of exaggerated movements to adjust the reigns a little tighter, signaling with her hands as she moved them for assistance.
She didn’t look up at the Dagger but he made a motion ahead of her and then vanished. Oh, so you thought you were out of sight. Paying attention to where he had indicated, she spotted a merchant who was adjusting his outer split shirt as if to correct its position; for just a moment there was a break in the shirt, revealing directly in her direction only the dagger under the outer robe. After fixing his shirt, the merchant started to signal something that started with the number four, but changed the message to a warning at her eight-thirty. Damn it! Time to run.
She glanced to her left rear to see a slim man in dark green tights, wearing a belt with at least three fighting-length knives and a sword on it, come running out of the house across the street from the Dolphin. He was looking directly at her. Behind him were two others dressed as valets, in blue button vests, two fighting-length knives and swords on their belts as well. The man in green said something and pointed right at where the western gate would be. He then pulled a knife from the back of his belt.
Damn it, they saw through the disguises! That looks like a throwing knife. Lebuin’s too exposed! Her warhorse jumped instantly to her directions, spinning and lunging between Lebuin and the men. Ticca drew as she controlled the horse with her knees; she leaned out and slapped Lebuin’s horse hard with her hand. “Ride!” Lebuin’s mount jumped at the abuse and flew into a gallop. Lebuin, caught by surprise, was bounced around, his hands splaying as he grabbing desperately for the saddle horn, almost falling off. He managed to grab the saddle horn, hold onto the reins, and somehow managed to stay up for the moment. Using the momentum from slapping Lebuin’s horse, Ticca ducked to the left as a knife passed over her, and would have hit Lebuin if not for his sudden motion.
She righted herself and held on with her legs, letting go of the reins to draw another blade. Guiding the horse with her legs they spun around again, and the horse leapt after Lebuin and Ditani as they raced away. A Dagger disguised as a workman on her left pulled a pair of daggers and ran to intercept the three attackers. Looking back, she saw that the three men were fighting with six Daggers dressed as workmen, sailors, beggars, and peasants. Before she lost sight of the fight two of the disguised Daggers had fallen, heavily wounded, and none of the three men who had come out to attack Lebuin were wounded. What was a full fire team doing in disguise watching the Dolphin? And Lady, not that I am not thankful, but why the hell did they break cover to help me? Her mind pulled her Uncle’s favorite saying out to answer that: ‘Mess with one Dagger, you mess with them all.’
Unfortunately the roads in the city were not straight, nor were they empty. They rode as fast as they could while dodging carts and people. They had just made it to the gate when the Knife in green came running out of narrow alley just ahead of Ditani. Damn it, who the hell is he and how did he get here so fast? He was splattered with blood and had two fighting blades out.
“DITANI, LOOK OUT ON YOUR TWO!” Ditani’s head thankfully snapped to the right location. Thank you, Lady, he knew what that meant!
The Knife sliced with his two blades at Ditani, who successfully dodged away only to lose his balance and fall half-off of his horse. The Knife turned toward Ticca as she turned her horse to ride him down. The war horse didn’t hesitate and leapt at the Knife.
For a moment Ticca and the Knife’s eyes connected and she read his immense anger towards her in that look. He wasn’t afraid, and certainly didn’t look at all like someone about to be trampled by a highly-trained war horse. He didn’t try to dodge, but instead spun in place, sheathing his knives and twisting with a speed Ticca admired as she was carried directly over him. He managed to twist, step, and shift just enough that her horse made no contact with him as it passed over. Anyone else would have been crushed under the mighty weight and steel-shod hooves. This guy is too much; he can’t be a normal Knife. Why do I have to deal with three exceptional Knives in two days? If this keeps up I am going to demand more coin from Lebuin!
Just as the horse passed over the Knife, he spun and jumped so that both his feet landed on her horse’s rump. In one continuous motion he painfully grabbed Ticca’s shoulders and pushed back off, pulling her right out of the saddle, and they both fell backwards off the horse. He let go of her just as soon as he had guaranteed she was going to be falling with him, which left him a small margin of additional flex in his legs to push off, adding more momentum to his own backward fall. Ticca’s mind raced over the situation. If I fall off this way I am going to break my neck, and if I don’t this guy will finish me off.
From the corner of her eye she saw him using his extra momentum to do a backflip, heading for the ground feet-first, legs bent to absorb the impact. OK, that might work for me too. Moving with her fall, Ticca bent backwards, putting her hands and back of her head on her horse’s rump. She managed to kick the top of her saddle with one foot as she fell backwards, turning the fatal fall into a backwards summersault off the rump of her horse.
I do not like landing with my back to him. Have to fix that first. Landing, she immediately lunged forward in the same direction the horse was moving with the momentum she already had. The ring of a scissor cut of two knives behind her head told her if she had moved a fraction of second slower she’d be dead. Twisting in the air, she did a somersault half twist flip, landing in a much better position facing the Knife in green. She had her dagger and short sword out and ready.
The Knife didn’t pause. Closing the distance instantly, his knives flew in vicious, deadly attacks. His face held a small smirk but his brows were tight with anger. His every move was deadly, and Ticca had little time to attack as she was forced to concentrate solely on parrying the flurry of blows. Over and over he attacked, and over and over she parried. Ticca was forced to walk backwards as he kept stepping closer, reducing her maneuvering room.
She had managed to get in the occasional riposte, but he slowly sped up. She tried to change the direction he was pushing her but he cut her off and forced her further back. Every three steps backward he sped up marginally. The Knife smiled evilly at her as she tried unsuccessfully to gain an advantage. Finally all she was seeking was escape. Damn it, he keeps backing me up. This is revenge for killing the other Knife at the hospice. He is doing to me what I did to his friend. Except there is no wall to pin me against, just the open gateway; can I use that somehow? Her mind raced, trying to find a way out of this situation alive.
Her arms ached with the strain of holding him off. She had never been pushed so hard, and yet somehow she matched his speed and strength. I’m holding, but for how long? She allowed herself to detach slightly to consider the situation. She was trapped in the fight. There was no way to disengage without giving him the chance he needed to kill her, which she was absolutely certain he was planning on doing. Ditani and Lebuin had made it out of the gate. She studied his technique, looking for a bad move. He made no mistakes; his knives flew in a nearly perfect pattern. He reminded her of her trainer. She saw the answer — her trainer had said that the reason he was the best was because he didn’t always follow the pattern; there were moves within the moves. The patterns could be adjusted, but only by a true artist. Someone who knew the patterns, followed them, but didn’t let them control.
They had backed up to the gateway and were in the shadow of the arch. The Knife hadn’t increased speed in at least ten steps. That’s it, this is his best. Can I go faster? She reached deep within and steeled herself. Time to stop giving in to him. She stopped taking defensive steps backwards, forcing herself to hold the line. His eyes widened when she held. He is as surprised as I am. OK, now to be a great Dagger! She held her ground, and letting herself relax into the flow of the fight, she found the calm of the patterns. Her blades sped up just enough that now he was forced to parry as often as she was. Now it was a parry, riposte, parry, and riposte. Then she pushed herself a little faster. He took his first defensive step backwards. She let her grimace turn into a smile and looked deep into his eyes. He wasn’t afraid, but his anger had changed to something else. He stepped back again, but then he pushed back, making her step back. The fight went on back and forth. He was not an artist, but he was the second best she had ever faced. Ignoring the muscle complaints she let her hands flow in the patterns and new attacks emerged as she found different patterns within the patterns. “Who are you?” he asked. She didn’t bother to answer, being busy with breathing.
A knife came from nowhere and nearly hit the man in green. He dodged it but that gave her a chance to slice his upper leg. Anger returned to his eyes. Another knife came at him and he dodged it but didn’t give her another opportunity.
Something cracked loudly behind her but she couldn’t look back. A donkey screamed in panic. Another knife, and this time he backed up enough to disengage for a moment and look around; Ticca allowed him to disengage so she could do the same. There were nine Daggers on the right side of the street, fighting with the two valets in blue, both wounded. Five more Daggers jumped out of another alleyway to her left and swarmed her and the man in green. As he fought them all, Ticca heard splintering wood behind her. Stepping further back, letting the other daggers occupy the Knife, she was able to look around.
A single solid slab of metal completely filled the gateway, rising slowly out of the ground, and as it slowly rose, the existing gates cracked and broke. It looked like there was a deep slot in the wall for this metal slab that had been filled in with stonework to mount the current gates. All of the stonework and other materials didn’t stop the metal slab from rising. In fact, the metal slab was at least six feet thick and had already broken up through the huge paving stones which had been put over it. That was the first cracking sound I heard, the stonework breaking away. People had gotten out of the way as it was moving very slowly, having only risen about five feet so far. There was a farmer chasing his panicked donkey away from the gate.
Looking back at the fight she realized this had something to do with Duke. Duke isn’t paying me, and I have to get Lebuin his answers. This fight is theirs. She spun and ran for the gateway, looking back in quick glances to follow events with the Knife, jumping up on the slab and sprinting across it. The Knife in green managed to break away from the other Daggers and ran after her. He was just about to the other side of the slab, which had only risen another inch. “Damn it! Close already!” she shouted in frustration, as she prepared to meet him again. He had just started to jump up on top. His foot hadn’t yet left the ground behind when the gate snapped up so fast that the stonework in the slot was instantly turned into a cloud of dust and the remaining parts of the wooden door became flying tinder. The enormous slab of steel slammed into the top of the gateway arch with such force that large masonry stones on the top of the wall were thrown into the air like billiard balls. Ticca felt the shockwave hit her body, pushing her away from the gate slightly as the thunder clap left her ears ringing. She covered her head defensively and held her breath against the cloud of dust. She had to dodge several large falling stones as she backed away from the now-sealed city gateway.
Turning, she ran as fast as she could down the road. Her war horse had stopped only a few hundred yards away and another hundred yards beyond that sat Ditani and Lebuin on their horses, watching the events. She swung up in the saddle and rode over to Ditani and Lebuin, who were looking past her at the city with astonishment. Turning the horse, she looked back at the city wall. It was rising, and along the top more steel plates appeared, topped with spikes which held steel balls.
“Definitely need to give things time to settle down here.” Ditani and Lebuin mumbled an agreement; the three of them turned the horses away from the scene and galloped down the road.