“You suggest that I would’ve been consulted because my ancestors lived here before moving to Aelargo to be the advisers and regents to the great princes of the Empire?”
“No, the disappearance of the royal line in 10,485, when your family was forced to assume control, is not what I’m referring to. The assembly’s ruling is older than that. Both the Imperial regents and the Aelargo regents have done their duties and have much to be proud of,” Orahda said with an odd sadness, his eyes going unfocused as if looking back across the years to that very time 3,000 years ago.
“We’re still at loss as to what game Duke is playing.” Dohma said leaning back in the chair. He felt less at ease in his seat within the ancient marbled halls, with all their inlaid gold and silver. The nearly 15,000 Dagger guards stationed in and around the assembly chambers did not feel so reassuring with these mysterious actions of Duke’s.
Thanks to Orahda and Dohma, everyone knew the Nhia-Samri could strike through the as of yet unidentified mage-gates hidden in the walls. Magical gates which, once activated, would allow the Nhia-Samri to step from their strongholds throughout the realms, directly into these chambers, the palace, and the city. Twenty-six gates had been found and disabled, but Orahda insisted there would be no less than thirty into the palace grounds alone.
An idea came to mind. “Orahda, what is the current Dagger complement?” Dohma asked.
Orahda answered instantly. “Although the formation of an official army is not yet sanctioned, there are 50,500 Daggers stationed throughout the palace and city, acting as officers to about 230,000 guards. Seventeen thousand Daggers are acting as special forces here in the palace protecting the assembly.”
Dohma did some quick math in his head. He had seen a report that morning indicating that over 38,000 Daggers had checked in since Duke arrived with the initial complement of 65,000 Daggers.
“Where are the other 35,500 Daggers?”
Orahda didn’t answer for so long that Dohma turned around to look. Orahda’s brows were deeply creased. “I don’t think anyone has noticed that discrepancy with all the activities.”
Dohma felt a small ember of hope kindle in his heart. “Duke is planning a surprise for the vote. I’ve been worried. I know the Daggers have tripled the guards’ training in recent weeks. Still, should the Nhia-Samri attack, we’ll have to evacuate.”
He didn’t bother saying what they both knew: the plan was already in place to evacuate the assembly to the eastern elven lands. All that could be done, had been done. They hoped that most would make it to Rea-Na-Rey, the elven capital in their kingdom of Nae-Rae, to the east.
A boy in Duke’s livery sprinted into the room, across the central floor. Ignoring all protocols to acknowledge the rulers, he dodged around to get to the large pillowed platform. Duke, looking clean and well brushed, leaned his head down to the boy, who spoke so quietly that even those close by looked unable to hear him. Duke’s head snapped up, and he leapt over the boy, to the central floor.
At that moment, Cundia, Dohma’s Dagger Commander of Aelargo and official royal adviser, walked into the room. She was in the lead of a number of other assistants, who were falling over each other to get to whomever they served.
Cundia was wearing the same armored clothing as Orahda, except she had far more weapons showing. She had little trouble maneuvering through the throng with her graceful and quick reflexes.
After rushing over to Dohma, Cundia leaned in close. “Lady Lothia, Lord Pualla, and Lady Dalpha are here.”
Duke barked, and not a single person dared to claim the authority to stand in his path. Dohma couldn’t help smiling as kings and queens leapt to get out of the way of the 240-stone giant wolf as he stalked out of the room. The small lad ran full tilt behind just to keep up.
Dohma’s stomach plummeted into an unknown abyss. Duke’s rush only confirmed what Cundia said. Still, his legs felt as heavy as stones rooting him in place. “Can this be true? The very Gods are to parley with us?”
Cundia’s face looked pale. “Yes, m’Lord. They just arrived in a gold and silver carriage unlike anything I’ve ever seen, pulled by two silver mares that flew into the palace grounds. Imperial Regent Aphastes Menthran is greeting them personally in the entry foyer.”
Dohma stood as the buzz in the room took on a uniquely excited pitch. His sensitive ears detected a handful of conversations about what to do; the Gods hadn’t attended an assembly meeting in over 5,000 years.
All fatigue forgotten, Dohma joined the rush of rulers as they strode as rapidly as dignity would allow, following Duke, heading for the entry foyer. Ignoring etiquette, he jogged into the hall and sped to the doorway of the foyer. Six Dagger guards on both sides of the doorway stood so straight that they looked like statues.
Duke was already at the far end of the room. Moonlight blazed in the three-story arched windows that lined the front wall, adding a soft glow to the bright chandeliers and wall lanterns.
Skidding to a halt, Dohma took in the three beings. Each had a shimmering radiance surrounding them. The Imperial regent was standing as straight as the guards and had stepped aside for Duke, who was rising from one of his head bows.
It took no time at all to identify them.
Pualla, Lord of Air and Yur, was a medium-height man with a toned, muscular physique. He wore a red-enameled, scaled shirt that looked more like feathers than armor. He had matching steel bracers on his upper and lower arms. His legs were covered with the same armor over leather pants, which were tucked into red knee-high, reinforced boots. His feathered cloak fluttered as if constantly brushed by the wind and unaffected by gravity. Two curved short blades and a small leather pouch hung from his belt. In his left hand, he held a tall staff that resembled an unstrung bow, but there was no string, nor did he have a quiver. His head was topped with a red and white turban.
Dohma had seen Dalpha, Lady of Light, at a distance in Llino on a couple of royal occasions. She was dressed the same as always, in a full-length green dress that covered every inch of her yet left nothing to the imagination. She had a curving body that, before he had met Electra, he’d thought had no equal. Smiling, he recalled the boyish daydreams he’d had as a young city guard, during royal celebrations, when she had put in an appearance.
Dalpha had made him feel optimistic for the future even in the worst of times, when he was enforcing the usurpers’ decrees. However, this would be the first time he would meet her. His palms were sweating.
What should I say to someone who has been an inspiration to me my whole life?
Dalpha stood regally with her hands clasped in front of her, showing elbow-length black leather gloves and a matching pair of bracelets. Her hanging belt and bracelets were made from a rope of woven gold, and were held in place with carved sapphire buckles. Around her neck hung a mantle-like medallion made from a large sapphire, cut with her symbol: an oak tree, with eight sun rays surrounded by an outer circle.
Lothia, the Raven, Goddess of Karakia, was a tall, regal-looking woman with dark tanned skin and long black, straight hair that fell to her waist. She wore a leather top that was embroidered with colored beads, forming the silhouette of a raven against a full moon. Tied with leather strips to her hair above one ear and on her bare ankles were black feathers, which floated as unaffected by gravity as Pualla’s cloak. Her hair was pulled around into a ponytail held with a hammered silver clasp, also tied with leather straps. Unlike Dalpha and Pualla, Lothia floated a full hand above the ground.
As Dohma approached, Dalpha’s bright emerald-green eyes jumped from Duke to lock onto him. They bored right into his soul. A gentle smile grew on her face, and she continued to stare at him, only glancing down once before continuing her gaze.
Pualla watched Duke with furrowed brows.
Lothia held up a silver medallion, which hung around her neck, for inspection. It looked o
ut of place with the rest of her dress.
Concentrating, Dohma focused his excellent hearing and caught the last part of what Lothia was saying to Duke.
“...Argos has granted me his voice and will also attend.”
“That could complicate this more,” Duke said.
Dohma stepped up next to Duke and dropped to one knee, bowing his head.
Dalpha’s gentle tones washed over him. “Rise, Dohma Uriosal. You shall not kneel to us again.”
As Lothia’s and Pualla’s oversized eyes shifted to him from Duke, he stood.
Pualla spoke first. “So this is the restored child of House Uriosal. I’m pleased to be with you here.”
Taking a deep breath, he tried to relax the tightened muscles in his chest. “Lord Pualla, Lady Dalpha, and Lady Lothia, I welcome you, and am your servant always.”
Lothia stepped closer to him, her eyes looking into his. Then she saw something behind him and gasped, putting her hand to her mouth and stepping backwards. “It can’t be.”
When Pualla turned to see what Lothia was talking about, his mouth dropped open. He shook his head and then jumped past Dohma. “It cannot be! By the heavens, how can you be here?”
Dohma turned enough to see what was going on, careful not to put his back to the other Gods.
Pualla picked up Orahda in a hug, patting his back and shaking him at the same time. Orahda played the part of a limp doll while still grinning ear to ear.
Dalpha did not appear to be surprised.
Although Dohma had not personally seen Dalpha on more than a couple of occasions, he knew she spent a lot of time in Llino.
Of course she knows who Orahda is. She had to have been watching over us all these years. He’s the second greatest warrior in all of history and a true hero of the Alliance. He must be well known to the Gods. I’m surprised Dalpha didn’t mention to the others that he was in Llino. I thought the Gods were a close group, sharing information freely.
The other rulers and regents came into the room, and an eruption of chaos ensued. Pualla and Orahda exchanged some quick comments in a language Dohma didn’t recognize. Afterwards, Pualla acted as if Orahda wasn’t even visible. Pualla rejoined Dalpha and Lothia, making some comment to them that Dohma was surprised he couldn’t hear.
A reception line formed. Kings, queens, and regents each bent knee, greeting the deities. Dalpha smiled through it all, catching a glimpse of Dohma from time to time like she didn’t want to let him out of her sight. Lothia stole several sideways glances at both Dohma and Orahda while receiving each ruler and regent in no particular order.
It was only after the chaos began to subside that Dohma noticed Duke was no longer in the room.
Now, how did he slip out like that?
The participants began to file back to the assembly meeting chamber, where servants were rearranging the tables, adding four silver thrones to a small dais, which had risen out of the floor. One of them was more ornate than the others. The three deities took the lesser thrones.
Dohma glanced back at Orahda. “Who is the fourth one for?”
Cundia stood to one side while Orahda was on the other. Both of them scanned the other attendees as if nothing was different. Without looking at them, Orahda said, “It represents the All Father Lord Argos, who is attending through Lady Lothia.”
“So she has his proxy vote?”
“No, m’Lord. Lord Argos is watching and will speak, if he so desires, from his throne in Miniath-Tur at the center of the universe.”
Lord Argos is watching this directly? This must be more important than I thought.
Duke had still not arrived, yet everyone was in their places, shuffling and straightening their papers, glancing around nervously for ten full minutes. Only the Gods sat comfortably in their thrones, straight-backed, with the appearance of infinite patience. Lothia and Pualla sat so still they might have been statues. Dalpha, in contrast, was somewhat animated. She would shift her left arm from her lap to the throne arm, and back, while continuing to regard Dohma.
Lord Menthran, the Imperial regent, glanced at the Gods and kept adjusting his seat. Finally, as he rubbed his face and started to stand, Duke walked in. Lord Menthran looked relieved until he saw, following Duke into the room, seventy Daggers who took positions against the walls around the room. Duke walked to his position like nothing unusual was happening.
The Imperial regent took one last glance at the new Daggers and then stood and rapped his gavel. “The Assembly of the Covenant of Duianna is called to order.”
Lothia stood, looking at the Imperial regent.
He cleared his throat. “The chair recognizes Lady Lothia, the Raven.”
“I speak for the Circle, Lord Argos, and my two companions. We’re fully aware of all circumstances leading to this meeting, as well as the debate to date. There’s no need to repeat what is already known by all present. I move for an immediate vote on the motion before the assembly.”
Duke stood and bowed, but before he could speak, a deep, booming voice came out of the air all around the chamber. “I second the motion for a vote.”
With his eyes narrowing, Duke looked at Lothia. The Imperial regent rapped his gavel. “The motion for a vote is made and seconded. The floor will now accept comment upon the motion before a vote. The chair recognizes His Excellency Duke of Greyrhan, Lord of Aelargo, for discussion of the motion now before the assembly.”
Duke scanned the room before he bowed his head. “I was going to second the call. I have nothing further to add.” Duke said in an even tone. He then sat back down and started mumbling something to his senior staff Dagger, Elades. Elades’ hands started moving in the pattern Daggers used as he listened to Duke with a tight-lipped expression.
Duke is pensive and I’d more likely be a jester than that being what he intended to say. He thinks the Gods are making a mistake.
The Imperial regent glanced around the room. No one else indicated a desire to comment. “So be it.” He declared rapping his gavel again. “A vote on the motion to declare war on the Nhia-Samri is to be made. Secretary, you will call the vote.”
The secretary called, “Lord Argos the All Father of the Universe, what is your vote?”
“NO.” Lord Argos’s voice boomed throughout the room, causing many to jump.
The secretary recovered from the pronouncement and marked his tablet.
He nervously looked at the physically present deities. “Lady Lothia the Raven of Karakia, what is your vote?”
“I abstain until the end of voting.” Lothia’s voice was quiet and washed around the room as a summer breeze closely followed by her gaze. Most in the room looked down, unable to meet her eye to eye.
The secretary glanced at the Imperial regent who made a get-on-with-it gesture. The secretary looked back at the deities.
“Lady Dalpha, Lady of Light and Nae-Rae, what is your vote?”
“I abstain until the end of voting.” She said in a soft tone as lovely as the dawn as she fidgeted with her left bracelet, her eyes glued on Dohma. Her brows creased slightly, intensifying her stare at him.
The secretary marked his tablet without looking down. “Lord Pualla, Lord of Air and Yur, Patron Chair of the Circle, what is your vote?”
“I abstain until the end of voting.” Pualla declared, his voice the deep baritone of a master of the hunt. Pualla leaned forward in his chair making eye contact with Duke. Dohma saw Duke subtly shake his head ‘no’ and Duke seemed to plead something that Pualla understood as he sat back straight in his chair with a frown.
The secretary again marked his tablet without looking and shifted his gaze onto the Imperial regent.
“Imperial Regent Lord Aphastes Menthran, what is your vote?”
“Yes!” The Imperial regent exclaimed as his gaze swept the roo
m, defiantly challenging all present.
The vote continued around the room.
Dohma voted ‘yes’ without hesitation when the vote for Aelargo was called for, receiving an approving nod from the Imperial regent.
After the last member voted, the tally stood six in favor and six opposed. Everyone’s eyes turned to the Gods as the secretary again called for their votes.
Lady Lothia, frowning at the room, voted defiantly, “No.”
Lord Pualla stared at Duke and voted just as defiantly, “Yes.”
All eyes in the room now rested on Lady Dalpha as the secretary called, “Lady Dalpha, Lady of Light and Nae-Rae, what is your vote?”
Dalpha had stared at Dohma throughout the entire vote. Occasionally, she adjusted her left hand’s position, while her right hand remained perfectly still. She did not answer as she continued to stare at Dohma, her left hand shifting slightly. Dohma’s instincts screamed at him to act, but what he should do escaped him.
Why is she so interested in me? She’s the Goddess of Healing and Life — she won’t agree to war. Her own disciple Sayscia told me once that Dalpha never agreed with violence. Yet, she’s nervous and trying to tell me something.
The secretary called again, his voice holding steady. “Lady Dalpha, Lady of Light and Nae-Rae, the vote is deadlocked. By the rules of the assembly you are compelled to vote. What is your vote?”
Lothia wore a small smile, while Pualla frowned, as Dalpha took a breath.
Her left hand! She has always had only one bracelet, on her right arm. Why does she now have a second on her left? Dohma’s stomach dropped from a cliff into the cold dark sea. That’s the purpose of her actions. I alone have enough memory of her visage. She desired I notice it. Perhaps she’s compromised in some manner. I require Orahda’s knowledge. Dohma pointed his nose directly at Dalpha and discretely tapped Orahda’s and Cundia’s knees.
Dalpha clenched her fists tightly, closing her eyes, and said softly, “Yes.” Her voice trembled and pleaded for sympathy. Her voice carried with it a blast of cold air that rushed through the room. Duke’s mouth dropped open.
Thread Skein (Golden Threads Trilogy Book 3) Page 4