Thread Skein (Golden Threads Trilogy Book 3)

by Leeland Artra

  She turned and moved away from the apex as quickly as she could. As soon as she was out of sight from the ambushers, she stood and ran for her horse, pushing the cloak back over her shoulders. She signaled that it was a trap. Again, the team already knew. Twelve mounted warriors had just come over another hill behind them and were galloping towards her group, swords out.

  Ticca vaulted onto her horse as the team quickly encircled Lebuin’s travois. Only ten Daggers, plus warhorses, stood between the Nhia-Samri charge and Lebuin. Her stomach turned, realizing the odds were heavily against them.

  She reached her team a mere moment before the charging Nhia-Samri. The team looked unsteady. Deep inside, Ticca felt a roar of anger boil up through her. She spun her dagger in the air and shouted, “If I charge, follow me. If I retreat, kill me. If I die, finish our work! OORAH!”

  The team swelled, daggers and swords out, and they all shouted as one, “OORAH!”

  Ticca screamed, dropping the reins and controlling her horse with her legs, as the Nhia-Samri charge slammed into them. The first warrior’s blade sang in the air as his powerful slice came at her. She blocked the attack, and her horse reared, attacking the enemy’s mount and ripping open its side, exposing ribs and muscles. It shrieked in pain and reared, putting the warrior off-balance.

  Ticca took advantage of the momentary opening. Bringing her blades around, she cut the man’s throat, even through the leather armor. The warrior rolled backwards, off the horse, as it tried to move away but fell too.

  She had only a second before a Nhia-Samri, in painted green armor with a blue symbol stamped on the front of both shoulder plates, rushed her. That one’s horse was just as highly trained as hers. On the backs of the mighty animals, she and Ticca exchanged blow after blow, both of them working to control their horses and their blades.

  Beside her, something or someone screamed in death. She didn’t have the time to see who it was. Spinning around each other, the horses pawed, bit, and body-slammed each other as their riders exchanged furious attacks.

  Ticca knew all four of them were taking serious wounds. She had a series of cuts, as many as her opponent. Still they fought. The horses slammed into each other, and she lost her balance. The Nhia-Samri was in perfect position, and her blade drew near to Ticca. There was no stopping it. It was the strangest feeling — time slowed to a crawl, and still she couldn’t move fast enough, forced to watch her own death approach. A primal scream escaped her lips as the Nhia-Samri blade hummed through the hot air, leaving a shimmering trail behind it as it headed straight for her neck.

  Another blade came from nowhere and caught the warrior’s blade, stopping it cold an inch from her neck. The ringing sound of the weapons connecting vibrated through her body. Ticca kneed her horse, causing it to dance back. Another man, in painted blue armor with the golden symbols of an officer stamped on his shoulders, was holding the blade that had saved her.

  “She’s mine!” the officer yelled.

  The first warrior caused her horse to dance away, and with a sword salute moved to attack someone else.

  Ticca couldn’t get the sight of the sword coming at her neck out of her mind. Lords and Lady, I should be dead. Thank you.

  Ticca’s attention snapped to the officer. His voice sounded familiar. Her mind was racing, trying to recall where she could have heard it before. She gladly focused on trying to identify the man; anything to stop thinking of that blade coming for her throat.

  He kicked his horse and had started to come towards her, sword held in a salute, when there was a flash of light from behind Ticca. He pulled back, looking past her.

  He sputtered, “Illa? But how?”

  Finally recognizing the voice, Ticca said, “Colonel Runa-Emry?”

  The ice blue eyes behind the blue painted face armor flashed at her. “YOU LIED!” His tone was one of deep betrayal.

  Ticca felt suddenly sick that she hadn’t told the colonel the whole truth. Her instincts told her she owed him far better treatment.

  A shriek pierced the air. Turning, Ticca saw that a Nhia-Samri had jumped off her horse to spear Runa-Illa clean through with her odassi. Illa was bending backwards, screaming, as lightning and a golden, shimmering energy poured from the wounds, encasing the odassi and the woman holding them in a bright fire. The Nhia-Samri warrior was also crying out in pain. Their screams mingled, amplifying each other.

  Colonel Runa-Emry joined the wailing, adding his own, “NOOOO!” to the cacophony.

  Behind Illa, a bright golden radiation erupted. A fourth voice joined the cries, making a strange harmony. Ticca knew instantly that it was Lebuin. He wasn’t screaming — he was yelling a savage, raging challenge. The travois he was strapped onto exploded, and he snapped to a standing pose behind Illa, looking every bit the role of avenging God. His skin glowed brighter than a fire, bathing the area in his golden light and casting ominous dark shadows that stretched out across the field.

  His hands pointed to the warrior who’d stabbed Illa, and a stream of golden fire flew at the woman, throwing her into the air like a rag doll. The warrior had held onto her odassi, so when she was thrown they were ripped out of Illa’s body.

  Illa fell to her knees as Lebuin pointed to other Nhia-Samri warriors, hitting each with a similar burst of flames. Illa’s wounds oozed a shimmering, golden blood. The air was filled with bodies, all burning like kindling.

  Colonel Runa-Emry yelled, “Withdraw!” He turned his horse and dug his heels into its shanks. As he practically flew away, he looked back over his shoulder at Ticca. She clearly heard him say, “Pray my daughter lives. If not, I will find you and kill you.”

  Only one Nhia-Samri warrior joined Colonel Runa-Emry in his retreat. The field around them was dotted with burning heaps, which only moments before were warriors.

  Lebuin had fallen to the ground behind Illa, and she’d lain down so that her head was on his chest. The back of her neck tightened as intense waves of tingles rushed through her head and shoulders. The wave of jealousy hit Ticca harder than an enemy blade. Flexing her fists she slid off her horse and stomped towards the pair, intent on jerking Illa off of Lebuin.

  Just as she reached the pair, Ditani called out. “We must put those fires out before the grass goes up in flames.”

  Ditani’s voice touched something in her mind freezing her in place. The memory of a grass-plain fire near her family farm when she was a child washed over her, bringing with it a shiver of terror and a moment of clarity. Looking around, she couldn’t concentrate enough to count the team, but the threat of a massive fire kept her focused. “Get out there and put them out — fast!”

  She raced back to her own horse, mounted, and rushed towards one of the burning heaps. The farther away from Lebuin she got, the clearer her head became.

  I have to control this. Dear Lady, what is going on with me? I have no reason to be jealous of Illa! But as the thought crossed her mind, she felt her heart skip. Oh, no, you don’t, she said to her own heart. This is MY LIFE! I choose my own path. And I know I wasn’t attracted to Lebuin before whatever happened at that base. This has to be some kind of spell or something. And I won’t let it take me over!

  Her conscience disagreed with her.

  Okay, okay. Yes, I was a little attracted to him. He was kinda cute, especially after he put on some weight. But that was just cute. I mean, he’s an okay guy, but not the kind of man I want to spend my life with.

  Her conscience gave her one last nudge, as if to say, ‘We’ll see.’ But then her feelings finally fell into place.

  That’s better, Ticca. Stay calm, stay focused, and do the work.

  Her arms ached from shoveling as fast as she did to get dirt on the fires, but she did it. She saw no more smoke columns, and there would be no out of control fires. She stood and looked back down the hill to where the team was gathered. S
he breathed deep and stood still, until she felt she’d achieved a balance. Precarious as it was, she was in control.

  Breathing slow and controlled helped keep her feelings in check. She headed back to her team, concentrating on staying in control of herself. As she approached them, she saw that Malla had been dressing wounds. Two bodies were laid out; those of Sabri and Epton. Her throat tightened as she choked back tears.

  Nigan stepped over, carefully slipping a different shirt on over his bandages. “We need to get away from here before they attack us again.”

  “No,” Ticca said. “We should build funeral pyres for Sabri and Epton. We must find Coedy; he might be dead, too. Somehow they know exactly where we are. They got ahead of us and set a trap. I wish I knew how they were doing it.”

  She looked at the mountains and felt an odd pulling towards them. Something about the jagged peaks in the distance touched her, making her feel safe and calm.

  “It’s what they’re famous for. Being where they shouldn’t be capable of being, and surgically performing their assignments. Ticca, we got lucky. If Lebuin hadn’t awoken and taken out as many as he did, we would all need pyres of our own.”

  Steeling herself, she looked for Lebuin. He and Illa were laid out on camping blankets. Both of them seemed to be sleeping. Ditani, covered in dirt, was already sitting between them, eyes closed, touching both their arms. His face lifted to the sky and he swayed back and forth singing something soft that had a deep beat, which his baritone voice gave life to.

  Lebuin’s skin was still glowing gold, but dimmer. Her heart started to jump around in her chest, but she willed it to be still.

  “What about Lebuin and Illa?”

  Nigan looked over to them. “I think we’ll need two travois now. Neither one woke when we moved them. Although Illa was speared through by two odassi, there isn’t even a blemish on her skin. Her clothes are soaked in her blood, which was glowing like Lebuin, but it stopped a few minutes before you got back.”

  “We do this by the numbers. Send Carda and Persa out to find Coedy. We’ll camp here tonight and make the funeral pyres. Tomorrow, we skip the travois and tie Lebuin and Illa in their saddles, and make speed for the Razor Back Mountains. If we push we can get to them in twenty or thirty marks. We’ll have to forage for the necessary supplies as we cross the mountains. It might take us an extra few weeks to get through.”

  “Won’t they attack us there, too?” Nigan asked.

  “I have a strange feeling we’ll be safe there.”

  Dohma

  Dohma awoke to the sounds of camp being broken. After pulling himself up, he slipped on his boots and splashed water on his face, slicking back his hair. He stepped out into the starlit morning air and put his hauberk on over the padded leather coat. The moons were still out, giving the slight morning mist a ghostly quality. He filled his lungs with the fresh air, enjoying the scent of herbs mixed with the grass carried by the mist.

  Cundia, his personal Dagger privy councilor, came into view, leading his eight personal Dagger guards. He noted as she approached that all of his Daggers were fully dressed for combat and were glistening.

  How you manage to get up and do drills every morning before me, I can’t figure out.

  A hand closed on his shoulder, causing him to jump.

  “Diurdu, Orahda! How do you do that?”

  “I’ve tried to teach you,” he said reproachfully.

  Cundia was close enough to hear them. “If you two are finished waking up, Duke has ordered a predawn strike.” She bowed to Dohma. “And he asks respectfully that you be so kind as to follow his orders this time, and stay with the rear guard.”

  “I tried to last time. You saw those other warriors in the barracks.”

  “I’m merely delivering the orders as instructed. That said, this is a primary Nhia-Samri base with at least 30,000 warriors. They will likely have reinforcements coming to support them if they’re not already there.”

  Orahda patted Dohma’s shoulder. “They’re also likely to use a gate to send a few thousand warriors out of the base to attack us from the rear. We must be doubly cautious this day.”

  A deep voice came out of the darkness. “Don’t worry, my friend. No plan survives the first encounter with the enemy. I’m sure there will be enough chaos to let you slip into the main group.”

  They all turned in the direction of the voice as the giant, moonlit grey wolf emerged from the thin morning mist like an apparition. Shivers ran down Dohma’s spine at the sight. Duke’s eyes were reflecting the moonlight like two silver lanterns.

  That any dare stand against him is amazing. If he wanted, I think he could have taken the entire world for his own. We’re lucky he believes so deeply in the Dagger code.

  All of the Daggers, including Cundia, snapped to attention and saluted. Orahda simply nodded.

  His eyes on Orahda, Duke said, “This is the first major base we’re going to attack. The other outposts were nothing more than guardhouses. If they have any intel at all, they’ll know we’re coming for this base.”

  “Yes,” Orahda said. “And Shar-Lumen will let it fall to test you, your army, and your tactics. He knows this is the first time he’s truly facing you.”

  “We’ve gone over it enough. We’ll know how accurate your insights are once we engage them.”

  As Dohma finished putting his weapons belt on, he said, “What I don’t understand is why he hasn’t sent any of his kill squads after the assembly. He made it clear he wants to kill every regent, king, queen, and all their families.”

  Duke glanced at Orahda, who shook his head. “Shar-Lumen will never attack in the elven woods,” Duke said. “Not even me, unless it’s to defend the elves or their lands. He’s not insane, as many believe. He’s still an elf lord, and will not violate his people’s home.”

  Flashing his grin, Duke said, “Well then, I believe it’s time to get started. The attack is just about to start. I’ve already sent the orders to the other camps. In two marks, 30,000 Dagger officers will lead 90,000 soldiers in three groups into the base from north, west, and south. We’ll be leading the last group of the most veteran 50,000, striking from the east, and 300,000 soldiers are already on blockade patrol. I want to be sure our group goes in first.”

  After he spun around, Duke leapt out of view in a single bound. Dohma jogged after him, with his own team following. Their horses were ready and waiting. Climbing on, they joined the hundreds of other Daggers who made up the rear guard. The army cantered towards the hills, where the base was located. Their path was lit by hundreds of magical lanterns that burned brighter and clearer than oil lamps.

  Their division had been sweeping southwest along the Duianna and Nae-Rae border. The outpost was in a valley only a few days’ hard ride southwest of Gracia, across the river channels. Once they cleared it, they could move west near Laeusia and join up with another half-division that was sweeping down from northern Duianna. They’d camped only forty miles from the base’s center, only five miles from the nearest Nhia-Samri farm.

  Orahda had said there would be no way to surprise the base, even if they tried to sneak in from fifty miles away, so Duke had chosen to have the camps far enough away to make either side have to put forth effort to attack. The base knew they were coming; it was only a matter of the precise time.

  It was a large base, larger than most towns. Farmland spread out twenty or thirty miles in all directions from the core facility, with an estimated 5,000 families. It would be cleaner than a regular city, completely dedicated to the military ways of the Nhia-Samri. Still, he knew there would be red-tiled roofs with upswept corners. Hundreds of core buildings and storehouses surrounded a central practice field for the warriors, which was next to the huge command structure at the center of the complex.

  Even over the sound of thousands of armored warriors on
war horses cantering through the woods, the battle cry of the attack force was clear. Ringing of metal on metal came only a moment later, signaling that the attack had begun.

  Dohma smiled as Orahda held up his hand. With his head tilted back, Orahda turned his horse and then pointed. Laughing, Dohma dug his stirrups into the horse’s side.

  There are advantages to being in the rear guard. This is a major outpost, and Duke really should’ve listened when Orahda said they would use their gate. I’m not going to lose a target to a closing gate again!

  His thousand-Dagger rear guard unit weren’t sure what was going on, but they were all smart enough to know something was up. Swords and daggers were drawn by many, and others lowered their spears as they galloped after Orahda and Dohma.

  Ahead, Dohma saw the glimmer of light that marked the gate. As he pointed, four Daggers nodded and, with spears down, charged ahead.

  As expected, the sounds of their approach had been detected, but too late. It was acknowledged as being directly for the gate. A squad of Nhia-Samri ran towards the base, and another came out of the gate as the lead forty Daggers plowed right into the group, mowing down all who weren’t fast enough to get out of the way. Dohma let out a battle cry that was echoed by his guards as they rushed through the gateway.

  As Dohma rode through the portal, he had the strangest feeling he’d ever experienced. The edge of the gateway felt like a creature’s soft, furry skin, stretching tighter and tighter as he went through it. The surface didn’t want to break, and it pushed back on him. But the horse was moving, and with a snap, the pressure against him was replaced by a dizzying, tingling sensation as he was flung forward and out, into a large training yard. Dozens of Nhia-Samri were rushing towards him, and the cacophony of battle and confused screams of the officers and warriors was too much.

  The warriors were taken by surprise by the sudden attack via a path they thought was their exclusive domain.