Chapter 12
Fate is circular
DOHMA SMILED AS HE ENTERED the palace foyer. He had been feeling better and better about the events of the previous days. Sure, the city is sealed tight as a drum, and an ancient terror or hero has seized control of the city. Daggers are now considered officers of the throne, all eighty personal guards that survived the first day by hiding are being tried as traitors. The pretenders’ families are all accounted for, and in the royal prisons, the three pretenders were simultaneously and gruesomely executed in public, witnessing each other’s deaths over a full day. And every noble in the city is under house arrest or in the prison because of attempts at bribery or escape. For some reason the townspeople were enjoying all these events. They have been extremely cooperative and even giddy at the changes and orders. I feel better about serving here than I have ever felt. I am proud to be an instrument of true justice.
He stopped for a moment to watch fifty workmen removing the paneling that had been put up in front of the actual palace foyer walls. Behind the ornate plaster with its overly-gaudy embossed golden inlay were walls of towering marble, with an intricate pattern that looked familiar. Once a larger section fell, it became clear that the pattern was an old seal like the one on the covenant. They spent hundreds of years slowly hiding our history and past. How could so many generations remain so corrupt? It’s hard to believe, but the evidence is mounting that each generation of usurpers was actually more ruthless and more corrupt than the previous one. Pirates; this was a nation run by pirates. They robbed on the seas, calling it ’patrol tariffs’, but really, the navy was manned with mostly cutthroat pirates. It is no wonder, then, that so many nations tried at times to break our hold on the merchant lanes. According to the records, the responses were far more brutal than anyone here knew. I hope we can establish a more peaceful relationship with our neighbors. I suppose the excessively gruesome and lengthy executions will provide some good faith in that direction.
Duke had ordered every wall of the palace to be hammered on, and if any wall cracked it was to be broken down, to reveal the true palace that was hidden underneath. It was a strange order at first so Dohma followed the workmen around as they pounded on the walls. The majority of the palace had been plastered or tiled over, which explained why it was all brash. Behind the fa?ades were wondrous friezes showing the history of the ancient city. There were some interesting pictures, to be sure. The building of the city was depicted, with representations of the Gods watching over the construction. What was amazing was that there were representations of buildings which floated over the sections of the city walls; which were hanging down from these buildings, being moved into place as complete sections, instead of being built up one stone at a time, as buildings were built now. Also, there was one mural that looked down on the finished city from a great height, showing multitudes of people moving about the city. Where the central market was now was a field, with smooth rounded buildings which stood off the ground on legs that ended in immense wheels, as if they were meant to move, except there was nowhere for them to go. In almost every picture of the city could be found the representation of a large wolf, which had to be Duke. Even more interesting was that in a number of pictures the landscapes were covered with snow. No one has ever mentioned that it used to snow here. I wonder what happened that could cause it to become so much hotter that it never snows, and when it happened.
Whole generations of princes of the Empire where represented in detail. The faithful regents’ line was also represented in one grand hall. It was obvious from examining the art that the princes he had known were not of either line, which is why they tried to hide it.
Dohma continued into the throne room, which now held no thrones but a large bench-table on the floor in front of the dais. Duke’s massive chair sat behind and at the center of the table. There were three seats to his left and two to the right, for the yet-to-be-named new regents. In the center of the room, a circular table had been brought in and on it were books and maps of the city. Twenty highly educated and respected merchant scribes and sixteen clerks were meticulously tracing the city records and carefully cross-checking each item. Seven royal scribes who had been promoted from Duke’s staff sat at a second table, which was filled with the notes and records being created by the research at the center table. The royal scribes were also consulting the ancient records and carefully preparing to write an accurate history from whatever point was determined to be the beginning of the false histories. All of the noble lines were being cross-checked, and family trees were being rebuilt, refuted, or confirmed.
Duke was looking over some books at the center table and spotted him coming in. He walked over to Dohma. “Captain, I must say your family is amazing! Your sister is a most able accountant; I am surprised she was only a junior assistant in the financial offices. How she can keep years of accounting records in her head at once is a mystery I care not to learn for fear it would make me boring at the tavern.”
Dohma laughed, and his sister, who was currently only partially visible over a pile of books, looked up, recognizing the laugh. She too smiled and ran over to give him a hug, and then returned to her work. Duke had found her during the bureaucratic purge. After working with her for only half a day he had appointed her in charge of the treasury and financial records and then simply walked out of the room. Dohma wasn’t surprised to hear that she stepped up and took charge without a single protest, as he knew from the guard reports how efficient and respected she was.
Duke smiled. “Ah, the joys of the bean counters! The Lords and Ladies be blessed that we have them so I don’t have to do it myself. Do you realize that those penny-pinching little cockroaches kept a complete set of records of every bribe, graft, and embezzlement, going back generations? For the descendants of people smart enough to usurp power without suspicion they were oddly stupid.”
Dohma looked at Duke, confused. “Excellency, I don’t understand half of what you say. Was there something you needed of me?”
Duke laughed. “Sorry Captain, short version: we have accurate records where truly smart thieves would have left none. They thought they had outsmarted the world, and so became stupid bureaucrats. We will likely be able to sort everything out in time. Your sister is a great help; thank you for recommending her as someone in the financial office I could trust.” Duke motioned to the other side of the table where Dohma’s brother was busy with the scribes and clerks resolving noble lines, coordinating communications with the officers on the docks, and keeping the merchants informed with estimates for when their goods could move again. “Also your brother, who was the head steward, is doing well coordinating all the extra activities. I am deeply grateful to you and your family. Your family is making this whole job a lot easier.”
Dohma bowed. “The honor is to serve your Excellency.”
When he looked back up Duke was giving him a peculiar look. A crashing sound of masonry falling drew his attention. Both Duke and Dohma looked to where a pillar that connected the dais to the wall was giving way under the workmen’s hammers. “Ah, at last! Come, Captain, this is what I called you for.” Duke stood and walked to the back side of the dais, where the wall section, which had been hidden behind the pillar, was now revealed. There was a recessed, high-arched doorway with a large steel door which had a bolting mechanism with a wheel and two grips so it could be turned easily with two hands. The workmen cleared the doorway itself quickly and Duke made a motion at it. “Captain, if you would please.”
Dohma stepped up to the hidden door and grabbed the handles to open it; however, a very strange tingling feeling in his hands caused him to let go and jump back, looking at his palms. He bounced off of Duke, who had moved up very close behind him. His hands looked fine. He looked at Duke, who encouragingly said, “Just some built up static, Captain, nothing to worry about. Please open it up.” Stepping back up to the door, he took a breath and grabbed the handles again, ignoring the odd tingle. He expected the mechanism to be frozen with age but it turned easily. There was a sound of many bolts being pulled back as he twisted the wheel by the handles. He pulled, and the door swung open silently.
Looking back at Duke, he saw that the wolf was still standing close and had been crouched slightly, as if getting ready to spring into action against some foe. Duke relaxed, sat down and just stared at him, thinking. Dohma stood there waiting. After a time Duke looked at the door. “Well, that cinches it.”
Confused, Dohma looked at Duke questioningly. “What, your Excellency?”
Duke motioned to the darkened room beyond. “Captain, lead on please.”
“Should I get a lantern?”
“Not necessary, just step in; we need to talk in private.”
Dohma took a step into the dark room. He could make out a fine, polished stone floor and the beginning of a case by the light pouring in from the throne room. As he stepped inside, the room brightened as a series of panels along the top of the walls lining the entire space slowly lit up, like the sun rising. The box panels looked like they were shallow wood planter boxes which obviously contained something that poured out a bright white light up onto the white ceiling, providing excellent lighting without shadows. The room was larger than he had guessed, being a long rectangle that went away from the throne room. The room was forty feet by nearly a hundred-and-a-half in length. The door was in the center of the shorter wall. The walls were lined with shelves of books and artifacts, and down the center of the room were more shelves, as in a library. At the far end Dohma fancied he saw huge chests.
Duke stepped into the room, which was more than spacious enough for him, and the door closed behind him on its own. Off to the right was what could only be described as a lounge area. There were a dozen comfortable chairs, low tables, and foot stools, arranged as in a smoking room. There was also a wine cabinet, a tobac humidor with a glass front, and a small bar with dozens of bottles of varying shapes and sizes, all containing liquids. There was even a small sink with a faucet sat next to that with racks of drinking glasses.
“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.
Ossa-Ulla knelt with his head down and back straight. In supplication to his master’s rage, his knives were laid bare on the floor in front of him as the tradition demanded. He was naked from the waste up. Years of perfection ruined by a deceiving charlatan of a woman who hides behind her appearance of youth to trap men. If I am allowed to continue I will rend her in the old style. She will see her own entrails pulled out slowly over days and used to feed animals while she still lives. He looked at the knives. If I get the chance, that is. Urio-Larne is within his rights to demand complete repentance of me.
“The Daggers killed two of our very best, you only just managed to escape, and that was in rags.” Urio-Larne stopped in front of him. There was the sound of snapping fingers over his head, followed by something being handed to Urio-Larne by one of the two men standing at attention behind Ossa-Ulla. Urio-Larne shook the ripped green vest and shirt wadded together within his field of vision. The cloth was stained with blood — some of it his own — and had cuts from the Daggers’ knives. “Rags! Rags! There are whole sections missing from these! This isn’t some stupid hound! This is Duke! Duke, and you left him rags to scent you by! You came here! Rags! This was the worst and most thoughtless action of a cadet. It is impossible to think of anything you could possibly have done worse!” Throwing the clothes on the floor in front of him, Urio-Larne started pacing again.
Two days of this and each day it gets worse. More news or events come because of the start. Yet he does not decide my fate — it is as if he is waiting for something. He hasn’t made up his mind yet. He is trapped and embarrassed. How could I have known she was so good? We didn’t even know we were surrounded by Daggers! I should have guessed that, or at the very least considered it. The first group fell so easily. Ticca, that devil woman, who is she really? That was a trap at the gate and we walked right into it. I am shocked that the Daggers would sacrifice their own to bait a trap. It was very well played. I will never underestimate them again. The group that pinned us against the gate was well prepared. She was the commander though, I am sure of it. She played her part perfectly. She led me to the gate, causing my men to follow, and then as soon as everyone was exactly where she had planned she had Duke close the trap. Very well played. I bet she is in the palace right now helping to determine how to best to hunt us down. Ticca, I swear I will rend you in the old style.
Someone stepped to the threshold of the library and waited respectfully.
Urio-Larne paced back and forth several more times. “What is it?”
“Sir, we have managed to spray every part of the neighborhood and the path Ossa-Ulla took returning here three times now. We shall not be able to do a forth.”
“Why not?”
“Sir, Duke hunts.”
“Not possible! He took a full dose of burned carmine. He won’t be able to track effectively for at least another three or four days.”
“Sir, signal relay reports Duke has begun untangling the scents at the west gate.”
“We must prepare for discovery. I am not sure if three treatments are enough to stop him; two have proven ineffective before, we only know positively that six with time to dry are enough. If he comes on the area before the chemicals finish working he’ll know it has been cleaned, which will give away the general area. After that, this whole area of town will be torn apart looking for us. Damn it! We must execute a complete shutdown.” He spun and walked over to Ossa-Ulla. “This is worse and worse. Do you realize that having such a public fight in an open space which Duke could and did have placed off-limits means he will gain all three scents? Further, you exposed our observation post for the Dolphin. Duke has claimed and sealed that too! There was no chance to clean that! Many of our warriors will be cataloged by him and there will be absolutely no hiding them!”
Urio-Larne stepped to his desk and back. He heard papers being shaken over his head. “Ossa-Ulla, you are given a reprieve.”
Surprised, Ossa-Ulla looked up but remained kneeling.
Urio-Larne shook some papers at him. “Warlord Maru-Ashua commands me to reinstate you as Nhia-Samri. He allows me the privilege of naming your rank. He also suggests that I send you out of the city, to a less conspicuous location.” Urio-Larne paced again and then smiled. “We will evacuate you to outpost Llino Twelve. From there you can take an assistant and proceed to Algan. I want every part of Magus Vestul’s house in ashes before anyone gets the idea to search it. Do you think you can handle lighting a fire in a small city filled with old people and children, Second Lieutenant Ossa-Ulla?”
Two ranks? You strip me of two ranks?! I am barely more than a cadet. Looking firmly at his Colonel, he answered, “I will serve well. And after?”
“Return to Llino Twelve via Rhini Wood. Find out more about this Ticca. You are in no way to make contact with Ticca’s family in Rhini Wood, nor are you to do anything more than intelligence gathering. I expect a complete report in four weeks.”
Picking up his swords, he sheathed them respectfully. Bowing once all the way to floor he stood and walked out of the room to prepare for the journey. Bitterly, he thought, I shouldn’t need a second chance. But I will take it.
Preparations didn’t take long. Within a mark he was fitted with a breathing system. The underwater breather was a set of tubes that attached to a float which could be changed to look like a small piece of wood or floating garbage or reeds or whatever was appropriate for the water it was to be used in. The breather would allow fresh air down one tube only and the second tube exhausted his breath by small holes under the water, making bubbles which were too small to be spotted except up close, and then they would look like they came from a water animal. A simple valve switched back and forth based on his breathing allowed him to breathe in good air and vent the bad. It also had a helmet made from glass and wire which allowed him to see very clearly. He knew if he went too deep the glass would shatter and likely kill him.
He was also handed the weights needed to stay submerged. The water was extremely cold, especially near the bottom, but his constitution could deal with the shock. Once in the water, he walked calmly down the bottom of the Delivery Channel, careful of the traffic and his breathing system. His papers, some clothes, and supplies were sealed in a water-tight harness that was strapped to his back. Once in the harbor, he carefully dropped some of the weights until he was able to easily maintain a good depth at just under the fifty-foot reach of the breathing system. Swimming slowly, he found the harbor was blocked by gates made of steel bars which were impossible to squeeze through.
He searched the docks for a way out, and finding none, he sat by a gate underwater, breathing slowly. Sooner or later they have to open the gate for a merchant; that will be my time. The day wore on and he grew very tired. The sun passed out of sight and he felt the tides pulling him into the gate. He let the water pressure hold him there and rested. Sometime later a ship was approaching — he could hear its movement in the water and behind him; he felt the gate swing silently open. After a day of struggle, escape was as simple as relaxing and letting the tide sweep him out of the city. Duke, I have escaped you. But, the Lords permit, I will be back.
He stayed underwater until he was sure the ship was out of sight and he was far from the city. Slowly, in the dark, he surfaced in timed stages as he had been instructed. Surfacing to the starry night sky, he paused to enjoy the sight and then struck out for shore, which he could hear in the distance. He was east of the city where the marshes merged with the river and sea, creating the great swamp lands. When his foot hit the muddy swamp floor he knew he was close enough to shore to stand, but there was no dry land in sight. Taking off the heavy gear and the water pack he rearranged everything so it could be easily carried.
Looking up at the stars, he found the ones he needed. A little observation and he knew which way to head. He had studied the detailed maps of the marshes and was able to guess where he was. He also paid close attention to any sign of predators, as the marsh contained hunters that could kill a man before he could cry out.
I need to avoid contact, so I will have to skip the trader routes. He concentrated on remembering the maps. Then it came to him. There is an abandoned fishing home not far off. I might be able to rest there. Turning, he confirmed the landmarks and then began carefully navigating through the swamp beds. He stayed vigilant for any of the numerous predators. After just over a mark, he spotted the leaning house in the darkness. The house was little more than a dark outline against the greens of the swamp trees and shrubs. He approached cautiously, looking for signs of other people or predators.
The house was empty. A small thrill of success went through him and he gratefully climbed onto the solid grass-mound. Finally being able to stand on dry land, he found some old fishing net, made a hammock, and strung it as high as he could between two strong palm trees. He then hung his stuff high in the tree and climbed into the hammock, falling asleep almost instantly.
The morning sun woke him up. Looking down he saw that a couple of predators had come through to investigate his scent. I must have been exhausted to not have woken up when they came looking for me. Looking up at the tree where he had left his pack he saw it was still safely in the tree. Getting up, he took the hammock down and put the netting back where he had found it. Grabbing his pack, he put on the simple traveling clothes with his knives hidden under the shirt. It was four days to the outpost if he walked. I don’t want to spend another night in this swamp. It doesn’t matter how tired I am, I need to move fast right now. He started the walk ten, jog ten travel pattern that he had been taught. I should get out of the swamp by sunset and then another half-day will see me at the outpost.
The day moved on about as fast as he did. The running and walking became like a meditation. He carefully reviewed every decision he had made and action he had taken since being informed that Magus Vestul was to be intercepted before he met with Duke, the information he carried in his pouch at all times to be sent to Hisuru Amajoo unread, in no way was a Nhia-Samri to come into direct contact with Magus Vestul, and anyone not Nhia-Samri involved was to be eliminated without a trace. That assignment had fallen to him. He had found a Knife capable of killing Vestul and stealing his pouch, which would hold what Hisuru Amajoo desired. The Knife killed Vestul but did not make it to the meeting, having vanished himself. Which meant the Knife was still to be found and eliminated without a trace. Ticca had appeared by surprise. Ticca had been seen in a number of key locations over the past cycle — too many locations to be a coincidence. When it was discovered she was acting for Dalpha’s Temple he had decided she might be involved, which would mean the original orders applied to her. A real puzzle was how was Dalpha’s Temple involved?
Ticca had left the Dolphin boldly wearing Magus Vestul’s pouch. I should have seen that as a warning. In hindsight she was clearly baiting a trap. She wanted to pull us out and expose our involvement. Her trap worked perfectly; I was a fool and fell into it. I ordered her to be removed and the pouch recovered immediately by one of our own. I cannot see how she managed to hire or involve that mage. That he is a special operative is clear. How did they communicate? Unless Dalpha’s Temple was communicating with the Guild… I had not ordered the Temple to be monitored. It must have been coordinated through the Temple. The foolish-seeming mage stepped in just perfectly and laid our involvement open to the world. She played me for a fool. She pretended ignorance and efficiently ran down exactly what had happened to Vestul. Her speed at recreating Vestul’s movements was another clue that she knew more than we thought. She was just going through the motions, and again I fell for it. She had his pouch, which meant the Knife either sold us out or more likely she caught him and extracted all he knew then killed him. I am still missing something, I am sure of this; she didn’t need to spend the day tracing Vestul, unless that was just a ruse to throw us off. That must be it — she was blinding us. Interesting techniques, by publicly hunting what she already knew she confused me, which led me straight into the gate trap. I need to learn from her brilliant tactics. What is her next move? If I can get ahead of her I can turn her own trap on her.
By the time he reached the outpost he had managed to puzzle out every aspect of Ticca’s traps. She will work with Duke to destroy all of our operations in Llino. Then, knowing little or no warning was, or could, be sent to our command, she will turn to Magus Vestul’s home. Urio-Larne will be forced to destroy the command post and all but the most critical records. He’ll get as many as possible out, probably by facing Duke and Ticca directly. If I hurry I can beat her to Vestul’s Algan home. Smiling, he realized he had the chance to get ahead of Ticca and Duke. He was free of the city before they expected, through the impenetrable defenses. I will destroy it and then wait; they will not expect a burnt shell. She’ll come in by herself to keep suspicions down; but seeing the burnt-out house she’ll realize she has been expected and will have to move fast to recover. She’ll be concerned that we recovered from the house what she tried to stop us from gaining in Llino. She’ll race back to get support; they’ll have a secret camp set up beforehand. If I capture them I can gain the information we need and present that to Warlord Maru-Ashua.
I need someone who can play the part with me. The perfect operative will be a top-rank fighter with speed, mage-neutralization training, and who can sing and play an instrument well so we can pose as bards. I’ll need to make sure to burn the house a day or two before we get to town, so as not to arouse suspicion. Small villagers are narrow-minded and superstitious to a fault, if there is a fire and there are new people in town it will be blamed on them. Smiling, he laughed. Of course in this case they’d be right.
The outpost had no new communications from Llino. The commander of the outpost read Urio-Larne’s orders carefully before allowing Ossa-Ulla his pick of the outpost’s gear, horses and personnel. It took a day of careful interviewing before he hit on someone that would work. Fate was friendly and he found a gifted fighter, mage, and musician in the form of a beautiful woman named Runa-Illa. She was perfect for his plan. He gave her a short brief of the guise they would need and special equipment needed, along with the gist of his plan without precise details. She accepted the secrecy without comment and prepared their equipment admirably. All the equipment, new or old, had been distressed to look well-used and reasonably maintained. She chose to take a hammer dulcimer to complement the only instrument he could play better than most traveling musicians, the twelve-string guitar. It took two days to assemble everything, and he pressed her hard in fighting practice to help prepare her for Ticca.
Pre-dawn on the third day after leaving Llino, he and Runa-Illa mounted the light but fast horses loaded with all the right clothes, gear, and instruments of a pair of traveling bards. As they left the outpost, Ossa-Ulla took the lead, riding at a fast canter south until out of sight of the outpost and far enough to let them cut past the southern farms of Llino. Then they turned west and kept the horses moving at a steady trot. As they passed Llino the sun had just started to rise. The early morning light showed a series of smoke columns that could only be from a section of the city burning. Stopping to roughly triangulate the sources he knew that the command post was burning. Ticca, I will rend you in the old style.
Runa-Illa was also studying the smoke columns with a questioning look, yet she respectfully remained silent as good subordinate should. He broke the silence. “Llino command is destroyed. We are going to complete their last order to prevent the Dagger responsible from gaining any critical information. Then we are going to capture, interrogate, and kill her.”
Runa-Illa looked at him with cold green eyes which burned bright with her soul. She slipped off her horse while drawing her odassi. Kneeling, she held them out in front of her, blades crossed near the base just above the copper bands. Putting her head down, she said softly, “I serve, command me.”
He slipped off his horse and drew his right odassi. “Your service is honorable.” He touched his odassi blade at the point where her blades crossed the stamped mark on all three odassi glowed red. Sheathing his odassi, he mounted. “We must make best speed for Algan. We have to beat them there.”
She stood, sheathing her odassi, and mounted as well. Turning their horses, they spurred them back to a trot. Using the trot-walk travel pattern they would be able to get to Algan in perhaps a week and a half. Ossa-Ulla knew he had to get there in less than thirteen days so he could burn the house then wait a few days before the “traveling bards” got there. Ticca will be leaving Llino in two or three more days and will hurry, but not as fast as we move.