“Not her fault! We underestimated their desire for that journal you carry!” Ditani yelled from the other side of Lebuin.
“Just concentrate on getting to the cliffs! I hope you were right about that path!” Ticca ordered.
“Should I try to attack them now?”
Ticca tried to determine if he had the power to do anything useful. “Won’t they just block anything you do?”
From behind Illa’s voice drifted up. “My Lord, no! What if they have a mage with them? You still don’t have the power!”
Illa’s reading his intent through their connection.
Smiling, Lebuin yelled to both of them, “I have a few tricks!”
Ticca glanced at Illa. Her golden hair flowing out behind her did little to distract from the tight look of concern in her face.
“Can you do them riding?” Ticca asked.
“Most of them, yes!”
“Will there be fewer warriors to face, or will they just be slowed down and madder when they catch us?”
“Both!”
Shrugging, she said, “Okay! Sure, do it! But don’t pass out!”
Lebuin looked around and pointed. “Let’s cut that way and jump that hedge.”
Ticca didn’t even bother to check; she signaled and turned her horse towards where Lebuin had indicated. He slowed, falling back next to Risy. Ticca didn’t have time to watch what was happening, as the hedge was approaching fast. She signaled to go over, and the team jumped it.
Once she was sure of her horse’s footing, she twisted around to see what Lebuin was doing. Risy, Epton, and Lebuin cleared the hedge together. Epton and Risy were on each side of Lebuin, and they held out hands, steadying him as if he’d lost his balance. Ticca could see that he’d made the jump without a problem, yet he’d dropped his reins.
What’s he doing?
Lebuin recovered his reins, and they all raced after the group. Glancing back, Ticca couldn’t see anything specific, but the hedge seemed different.
She slowed the group down, letting Lebuin catch up. As he pulled even with her, he yelled, “Stop looking! We’re running, remember?”
Illa rode next to Lebuin. “You used too much power, my Lord! I felt your concern. You lost almost everything in our escape from Llino.”
Lebuin didn’t answer, but bent low on his horse, urging it to more speed with a scowl on his face.
Ticca turned her attention back to the flight as they angled up a small hill. Near the top, Lebuin let out a triumphant cry. With a grin, he motioned with his head behind them. Looking back, she saw that the entire group of Nhia-Samri had stopped, and a number of them were sprawled on the ground. About half of the warriors were off their horses, and it appeared that quite a few of the animals had broken legs.
Ticca’s heart leapt into her throat seeing the poor horses. “Lebuin, what did you do?” she shouted, scolding.
Lebuin looked a little taken back by her tone, but he yelled back, “When I was pretending to have slipped, Risy and Epton kept me in my saddle while I made the ground soft where all our horses landed when they went over that hedge. When they followed us, theirs were bound to stumble and fall after trying to jump over the hedge, which I also thickened and made larger.”
“Why make the hedge larger?”
“In case they had a mage. That mage would think enlarging the hedge was the only thing I was trying to do.”
“But the horses?” Ditani echoed Ticca’s feelings.
Lebuin blushed. “Sorry — it was them or us, right?”
Ticca frowned but had to admit he was right. “That was good thinking! Congratulations! You got us to the cliffs.”
As they topped the hill, she could see two of the ranks had formed up and were once again in pursuit. The remaining warriors were on foot, following behind. She pulled up to take a count.
“You took out five warriors and fifteen horses. Not happy about the horses, but you’re right. It was necessary.”
Lebuin sat taller in his saddle. His prideful demeanor made her smirk. As she turned again, she saw Risy gazing at her with a small frown.
Sweat was pouring off all of them by the time they finally reached the base of the crags. Looking up, she saw that they weren’t exactly huge; maybe 300 feet. Still, it would mean they had a good advantage. Sabri and Coedy weren’t in sight, but their trails were clear on the narrow wagon path.
They all dismounted and started leading the horses up the trail. Ticca was pleased to see they’d gained at least fifteen minutes on their pursuers. The trail thinned until it was barely wide enough for a narrow two-horse cart. Lebuin was hugging the wall as they climbed.
Behind Lebuin, walking easily in the middle of the trail and leading her horse, Carda carried something in her hand, which she was examining so closely as to practically be ignoring the trail. It was a chunk of the dark stone from the cliff face. Hefting the rock in her hand, she smiled and ran around Lebuin, causing him to stop and stare at her, wide-eyed.
Carda ran to Ticca. “Ticca, this is oil shale.”
“I presume that means something important.”
Lebuin forgot his fear, letting go of his horse’s reins and stepping between the two horses to take the stone and examine it.
Walking only a hand’s breadth from the edge, Nigan approached. Both he and his horse unafraid of the 150-foot drop. He stepped over and slapped Carda on the shoulder, laughing. “You’re thinking about lighting it, aren’t you?”
Carda smiled wickedly and nodded.
Ticca touched the rock. It was dark and cold, with a rough texture, and it flaked easily. She’d never seen anything like it. “You don’t mean what I think you mean, do you? Can this rock burn?”
His eyes going gold, Lebuin pulled a chunk of it off.
“Yes,” Carda said. “It can burn, and Lebuin should be able to light this whole trail on fire. That might even snap it off the side of the cliffs.”
Whistling, Nigan slapped Lebuin’s shoulder. “Please don’t experiment till we’re at the top.”
Lebuin’s eyes shifted back to green as he stared at the wall of blackish rock. “I’d have to make it very hot, but you have a point. What would it do?”
Pointing down the trail, Carda said, “This whole cliff might go up in flames. It takes a lot of heat to get it started, but once it’s ignited it’ll burn strongly for some time. At minimum, it would make this trail unusable for a day or two. At best, it might crumble and fall.”
Burning rock? That seems unlikely.
Her thoughts must have played across her face.
Carda said, “Look, my village blacksmith would use this when he ran out of coal in winter. He said it took longer to get going, but was almost as hot. I used to help clean out the smithy, and this stuff cracks and crumbles as the oil in it is baked out by the heat. Oh, and it stinks to high heaven.”
Looking back at the fertile farming area below, Ticca felt a twinge of guilt in her gut.
If we destroy this road, these rich fields would be far more difficult to cultivate if some family wanted to move here again.
A shout from below made her mind up.
Better we save the world so there can be farmsteads.
Her practical farmer side shrugged, but she remained upset at the possible destruction of a safe road that had likely taken a lot of labor to build.
“Okay, it’s a plan. Lebuin, do you have the power to do this? You’ve been using a lot working on the journal.”
Lebuin took a moment to stare intently at the small chunk of rock in his hand. It started to smoke, and he dropped it on the ground. “Some threads yield power, others consume it. I can ignite a section of the road. You need to pick which section — maybe ten feet’s worth. I can mark it in my mind on the way past and ignite it from the to
p.”
Looking up, Ticca started moving again. “Mid-section on the next switchback will be as good a place as any. We just need to be sure it’s ahead of the Nhia-Samri.”
As they continued up, she noted that Lebuin stayed near on the inside, staring down more often than not.
They had to pause while he marked the location in his mind, which thankfully only took a few minutes. After that, they pushed to a run the rest of the way up.
Cresting the top revealed a plain with gently rolling hills and some green woods off in the distance. The wind blowing over the plateau pushed Ticca back towards the cliff, and the scent of grasses ready to be cut for hay made her mind jump back to her family’s farm.
For a moment she let the childhood memory wash over her, longing for the summer days of working the fields with her father. He’d known she wasn’t going to be a farmer, but he tried to convince her, saying, “The weight of the nation rests on the backs of the farmers, Ticca. It’s the highest honor to tend to Yur’s soils, saving hundreds from starvation.” The memory of her father made tears run down her cheeks.
Ditani stepped up next to her, bent down and grabbed a handful of the dirt, smelling it. “These are fertile lands. I’m surprised that homestead below failed.”
“There isn’t enough rain in these parts for most crops. You need a good aquifer reserve, well, or river for irrigation,” she said distantly, looking back at the fields below and trying to stop the tears. “If they could fence off enough territory it’d work as a ranch.”
“Something to do when I retire; I like horses and cattle, just not the butchering,” Risy said, stepping up. “But before that we need to get the horses away from any smoke.”
“I didn’t like farming. I did enjoy herding the animals. Maybe ranching would work for me.” Ticca laughed, tears forgotten, and handed her reins over to Risy, who smiled widely at her and patted her shoulder.
Risy and Ditani took the horses a good distance into the fields away from the cliffs and let them loose to graze on the rich and tasty golden and green blades.
A hand rested on Ticca’s shoulder. She saw Lebuin’s eyes on her under a raised brow. “You okay?”
Trying to covertly wipe her cheeks, she nodded. “Yes, just catching my breath. If everyone is up, you should try to light that section.”
Lebuin’s expression showed her he wasn’t fooled, nor had he missed her tears.
She called out, “Everyone get away from the cliff. We’ll wait a while to see if we have to fight.”
Ticca, along with everyone else, stood and waited. Near the edge of the crag, Lebuin concentrated, with Illa next to him, daggers out, watching the trail for any possible attack.
Ticca counted the time off in her head.
After four minutes, nothing seemed to be happening.
He better hurry up. If he takes much longer, they’ll be past that section.
Just as she finished the thought, Illa jumped back from the cliff as a blaze shot skyward. The fire didn’t die down; instead it spread right and left, black smoke billowing, darkening the sky. A scream of rage rose up to their group.
Nigan laughed and whooped. “It’ll take them days, or more, to go around.”
“Water the horses and yourselves,” Ticca said. “We’ll rest here to be sure they can’t get past that area. Then we’ll continue to the energy source.”
Dohma
Dohma held his horse’s reins in his hand as he moved to the edge of the elven forest. The giant redwood trees had given way to spruces and pines a day back. A breeze was blowing towards him, bringing with it the pleasant scents of evergreen and sage.
He had led the escort for many of the assembly to Rae-Na-Rey. The rulers were safely housed in the elven city. Hundreds of mages had traveled with them and had exchanged incantations with the elven mages, so they could send messages back and forth efficiently. The incantation links had been sent on to Gracia, and from there to the respective kingdoms. The rulers and regents were able to coordinate the gathering of the Alliance armies from a command center where Shar-Lumen would never attack.
Duke trotted out of the woods ahead. “The way is clear. I’ve ordered the Daggers to start forming up the troops. We have more coming from the communities to the south.”
Shaking his head, Dohma said, “Farmers and tradespeople are not soldiers.”
Duke sat down and sighed. “I know. But I’ve done this before. The Daggers will push the training. We have another week before we get to that first Nhia-Samri base. We’ll make sure our best fighters are in the lead on that one. Soon we’ll have hardened veterans at our command.”
Orahda stepped out of the brush, startling him. “Dang it, I didn’t see you coming.”
Patting Dohma on the back, he said, “I’ll teach you. We’ll add that to your morning and evening training routine. Should only be another half mark of work.”
Cundia, Dohma’s other personal Dagger adviser, silently leapt from a tree at Orahda’s back. He stepped aside, letting her land hard.
Cundia stood up, slapping the dirt and needles from her pants. “Urd, I thought I had you.”
“You smell of scented soap and you crushed some dry moss. Otherwise, you did well.” Orahda said in his standard matter-of-fact training tone.
“I’d smell worse without my soap,” she said with a laugh.
“Possibly not,” Orahda said conspiratorially, giving her a hard look.
Duke coughed. “I can smell you both just fine. Now if you two are done playing, we have a few thousand new recruits to teach how to strap on their armor.”
Climbing up on his horse, Dohma asked, “The shipment has arrived?”
“Yep, it just came in.” Duke said. Glancing at Orahda, Duke grinned. “I can smell the oiled leathers from here. We’re the proud owners of 50,000 sets of armor. And, Lords willing, the 100,000 swords and camping sets I ordered to have pulled from the Gracian storehouses. They’ll need a lot of cleaning and repair, but we should have a reasonably equipped division.”
Elades rode up with a huge smile. “Sir, the northern troops were spotted two days away. The report is a 50,000 regular army, fully equipped.”
“Excellent. Any word about the other divisions?”
“The mages are transcribing some reports. At a glance, it looks like we’ll have another full division forming up in Oslald, starting to sweep west from the Darian Ocean. Yalthum has activated their entire guard. Between them and Laeusia, there’ll be three full divisions sweeping south from the Skogen Forest.”
“Now we can truly get to work. Come on, we have some recruits to beat into shape,” Duke said as he jumped away, landing at a run.
Chapter 4
Power Consumes
Lebuin
“Everything okay up there?”
Illa stepped over from the direction of the blasted doors to the edge of the pit made by the explosion here. The Nhia-Samri’s once-grand throne room was completely destroyed, with only a narrow strip of solid floor left around the edges, near the walls. Illa waved from almost directly above Lebuin.
“Nothing going on up here. I’m sure you’ll know if anything changes, m’Lord.”
Lebuin returned her wave, then looked back down at the remains of the second room that had been below the throne room.
I’m positive this is the precise location of Finnba’s power source.
He crouched and picked up another bit of twisted gold and platinum metal, dusting it off with his mind and examining the shattered gem fragments.
This was a massive magical machine. Was it destroyed when we defeated Finnba? Or did the Nhia-Samri detect that I’d discovered it and destroy it themselves? Maybe this wasn’t the source of the power; there’s nothing else in the area remotely magical. I can sense a residue of power only here.
He moved around the area, again looking for any clues to the mystery. A small flash of red light caught his eye. As he moved towards the light, something under his foot shifted with a loud pop. He stepped back and cautiously used his telekinetic incantation to blow the dirt from what had moved. The dirt and minor debris flew away, revealing a section of the cracked stone floor. Lebuin paused for a moment, admiring the intricate runes melded into the floor with crystal or crushed-jewel dust. The item that had popped under his foot was a twisted copper necklace with the remains of a heavy chain attached.
His memory jumped back to the necklace Finnba had worn, which had shocked him when he accidentally touched it. Then he remembered the one around the neck of the rogue mage they’d fought and killed in the Llino Guildhouse. This was identical to both of those. Neither of them had remained as more than a lump of melted crystal and copper, useless for ascertaining what they did.
Shifting to mage sight, he dropped to his hands and knees to examine it closely. The rough copper exterior was deceptive; the device was one of the most masterful artifacts Lebuin had ever seen. Tracing the incantations woven into the amulet, he realized these necklaces were similar to the Argos energy collector artifact. One specific pattern caught his eye, and he sat up straight at the implication. Touching his throat, he felt the power of the exact same incantation laid into him by the Argos artifact.
These are keys to power, unlimited by distance or any normal substance.
It was inert, never used — like a spare, or maybe it had been made in advance for someone who hadn’t lived to get it attached. He picked it up and turned it around, examining its construction.
If I can figure out how these tap into the power sources, maybe I can locate the other ones and possibly even access them myself. That would put me on an even standing with the Nhia-Samri mages.
He felt a small vibration of guilt at the thought of tapping in himself.
Thread Skein (Golden Threads Trilogy Book 3) Page 10