Thread Skein (Golden Threads Trilogy Book 3)

by Leeland Artra

  The hairs on his neck stood on end, and he had the impression the ship was staring at him with cold, anger-fueled hatred.

  Looking up, he could see that the roof was designed to open.

  This building was made for the Emerald Heart. Or perhaps it was built around it. But how did this come to be here?

  Finally getting control of his emotions, he finished closing the door. He moved around, gazing at the ship, as the feeling of being stared at never waned. Along the sides of the building, like a museum, were over fifty glass cases. He moved to one and looked in. It held a series of books sealed with golden clasps, and all had the Duianna Imperial sigil on the front.

  As the ship continued to strain against the chains, he walked on. The next case had a rather plain-looking, long sword in a leather sheath. After that, he saw a silver key in a small case, which was unusual in that it had two rows of teeth going down and a third going up. It also had a hollow tip. He knew what it was. A key to one of the famous Blue Dolphin Inn Dagger room doors in Llino.

  The ship sank back down to the soft supports with a groan. He turned to look at it. The sails slowly folded back, until they were furled. The outrigger spars drooped, making the ship appear forlorn.

  He shook his head and continued to inspect the items around the edge of the building. Many of them seemed ordinary, but then he saw a beautiful bound book in a special case. Its leather cover was elegant, and on the front, it had the sigil of Aelargo. He stared at it, knowing it was the royal archive for the Kingdom of Aelargo.

  How did we get this? It should be in the throne room of Llino, under continuous guard. Every nation has one. Why would we want it, anyway? It can only be opened by the regents or ruler of Aelargo.

  There were some silver boxes of different types, which he recognized as recorders. Their variety made him think there might be other types of mundane devices that had a similar appearance. One of them far older than the rest. It had even begun to rust.

  After he’d examined all the artifacts, he climbed the stairs to board the ship. Stopping at the top, on a small landing, he looked over the ship. The deck, a highly polished oak, was amazing. The rails all had inlaid rubies on the inner edge. The ship appeared to be perfectly maintained. Everything shone with a coat of wax, the woods were all oiled, and every rope was neatly coiled. The gunwale in front of him had the boarding hatches latched open. The three white masts rose up out of the centerline with a swept-back look. He placed his hand on the railing, and stepped on to the deck.

  The reaction was swift and unexpected. The thunderclap of the outrigger sails came, and the ship jumped up a foot, launching Maru-Ashua into the air, before it was snapped to a stop by the chains. The railing creaked under the strain, but it did not give. The ship dropped, landing on the supports with a loud boom.

  He quickly adjusted and twisted, ready to land on the deck without breaking anything. Another thunderclap came from the right side of the ship only, and the deck he was about to land on rolled, suddenly and hard, to the left. The unexpected movement hit him with a tremendous force. Pain shot through his legs as he was thrown into the air, over the edge of the railing.

  He pulled on the power of his odassi to increase his speed and strength as he tried to adjust. Fortunately, it was over fifteen meters to the ground, and he had enough time to twist into position. He landed and rolled, slamming into a display case, knocking it over. The glass shattered, and he slammed his head into the edge. Blood poured down his forehead as he stood up, disentangling himself from the wreckage of the case.

  He used his odassi to heal himself and wiped the blood from his face, staring at the ship.

  “That wasn’t an accident.”

  A ruffle that sounded like someone huffing came from some of the sails.

  It’s alive...and it’s mad.

  “Can you talk? How did you get here?”

  The set of chimes sounded. He didn’t understand them, but they left the distinct impression of anger.

  “Sorry, I don’t understand.”

  A ship’s bell rang evenly twice, paused, then rang twice repeatedly, until it had rung eight times.

  He tried to remember what that could mean. Unfortunately, he didn’t have a lot of naval experience.

  “You need eight? Eight what?”

  The bell repeated the eight-ring pattern.

  He walked around to the display case that housed the recorders. The one unique recorder was the rusty one. It had a sigil he didn’t recognize etched on the case, which he opened and examined closer. It was similar to the one he’d given to Lothia. He opened it and pushed the buttons, like he saw Lothia do.

  The small print appeared and rolled through a series of names and dates, which were in standard Imperial. The text stopped scrolling with the bottom half of the screen empty. The last entry shown was titled ‘Martidi, 14801-Innadyt-12, Hilth-Na tribe’. He pointed the device at the top of the case and pushed the button with a small triangle on it, as Lothia had.

  A man appeared. He was dressed as a warrior, with a red cotton shirt, a steel breast plate, and leather shoulder armor. An orc held a sword to his neck. It had to belong to the man, as his scabbard was empty. He was tied to something not shown. He was brutally beaten, with a bloody face, swollen left eye, and split lips.

  “I’m taking you there,” the man said defiantly.

  Above Maru-Ashua, the ship’s bell rang fast and loud. He recognized that signal as the alarm.

  “Quiet. I’m trying to watch this.”

  The bell went silent.

  He’d missed some of what was said, but another orc was beating the man. The ship creaked behind Maru-Ashua, but the bell remained quiet.

  The orc with the sword held up a hand. “Where is Sandeep? We know he’s there!”

  The second one cut the breast plate off. “We’ll go there ourselves. Our people built this ship. Do you think we have forgotten everything?”

  Another orc came into the scene. “We can’t get to the heart.”

  The first one hit the new one hard enough that he went down. “Use more force, you idiot. You have the tools!”

  Puncher orc laughed until the first glared at him.

  The other one crawled away as the first one turned back to the man. “We can take it with this ship. He won’t be able to defend against it. Tell us where!”

  The punching orc said something in a language Maru-Ashua didn’t recognize. The two got into a heated argument.

  Maru-Ashua noticed the man was holding a silver box. He then looked down at the one in his own hands.

  That isn’t rust. It’s blood. His blood.

  In the image, all the figures bounced, as if the ship had been hit by a wave.

  “Ah, they’ve gotten to the heart. Soon we won’t need you. The ship knows where it is, too.” The first orc gloated.

  The man whispered, “Indurat terram, ledo.”

  The first orc leapt at him, punching him in the mouth. “Damega, you fool!” And as the deck started to pitch, he thrust the sword through Damega’s chest. “Helm, pull up! Pull up!”

  Damega sighed, looking at the sword. As his head fell, he whispered, “Conabamur. Dic ducis ille erat rectum.”

  The second orc had rolled out of the scene. The first was hanging onto something in a wall as his legs floated behind him. He kept screaming, “Pull up! Pull up!”

  A loud crash came, and the first was thrown out of the scene, screaming. Damega’s body was slammed around, and the little silver box bounced out of his hand as the scene vanished.

  Above and behind Maru-Ashua, the Emerald Heart slowly rang twelve bells and creaked.

  Closing the recorder’s cover, he placed the blood-stained device back into the display case and walked around the ship, to the door. Passing the display cases, he recognized ma
ny of the artifacts as what Damega had been wearing.

  As he headed for the door, the ship rang eight bells.

  He stopped and looked back. “I still don’t know what that means. But I promise, I’ll be back. I do understand why you threw me off. But I am not your captor, nor am I your enemy.”

  The ship’s bell rang eight times.

  As he closed the door, the bell rang a simple pattern of three bells, evenly spaced, close together, followed by a single gong that reverberated around the area. Closing the door behind him, he heard the three-bell pattern again. The shield came back as he engaged the locks, which wasn’t a surprise. The sound of the gong was cut off when the shield came back up.

  He stepped back and stared at the building.

  The Emerald Heart crashed, and Damega died to stop the orcs from getting to Sandeep. I know the legends that Damega found the invisible city that was the home of ship builders and ship yards of the old Empire. If the Emerald Heart crashed, how did it get here, and who repaired it? It’s obviously being held here. But how could even Shar-Lumen move it here? That was over 500 years ago.

  Pocketing the key, he headed for the library.

  First, he found a few merchant marine operation guides, but those didn’t have any bell signals that matched what the ship had been doing, except for the alarm bell, which he already knew. Finally, he found an Imperial Navy officer’s manual. In that, he found that eight bells communicated the end of the watch, meaning a time for a new officer to take command. The three bells and a gong were under the ship-to-ship signals. It meant the ship was aground and there were hidden dangers for any rescue effort. He thumbed around, looking for the twelve-bells signal. He’d almost given up when he found it in the back, under optional honors. It was to be used only to mark the passing of a war hero, or major officer, who died with honors.

  He hunted down the few reference books on Sandeep. That took some time, as Sandeep was a matter for much speculation. There were only two actual exploration references. One was by Lord Buroullen in 11677, and another was by Ogier Spucci in 9203. The librarians scoffed at Lord Buroullen, who’d been proven after his death to have lied about some of his travels. That left only Ogier Spucci as an acceptable account of Sandeep.

  Maru-Ashua was surprised when the librarians were able to produce a complete copy of Ogier Spucci’s manuscript on Sandeep. Sitting comfortably, he spent a few marks reading the ancient tome. It was amazing to read Spucci’s own words on the subject. He stated that Sandeep was the only remaining pre-migration nation wholly intact as a city-state. All eighteen survivors of Spucci’s fifth voyage of 9203 signed the record which stated they left New Yurithum for six cycles at western Skogen Huit. Spucci’s group then traveled farther east, staying at Sandeep for three years before returning home.

  According to Spucci, the city-state of Sandeep was hidden in a crescent-shaped valley spanning fifty miles. It was a peaceful city with no standing military and only limited guards. It had a defense system capable of rendering the entire valley invisible. While it was a semi-democratic state, it had a ruler who would remain supreme until age prevented effective governing, at which point a new ruler would be chosen. Spucci’s manuscript detailed the social and economic structure of a society more than a little familiar. It was identical to the Nhia-Samri society, with the exception that the civilians had a governing council with a chief governor who answered to Shar-Lumen.

  Putting the book down, he tried to think it through. Legends held that Sandeep was the home of the master ship builders of the great Duianna Empire. It was well known that something had happened around 10300, causing Sandeep to disappear. Every expedition sent to find it vanished. Even before it had disappeared, legends said the precise location of the city had been intentionally hidden, known only to a few. The Emerald Heart was supposedly the last and greatest of the ships Sandeep built. It was a prototype, one of a kind. It had been part of the legends until Damega flew into Llino, claiming to have recovered it. Damega had never explained where or how he came to have the ship.

  Had Shar-Lumen adopted the Sandeep society blueprint from the manuscripts? Or.... His mind twisted at the possibility. Was the original civilian population of Hisuru Amajoo the remains of the Sandeep society?

  How had Shar-Lumen built the fortress? Rumors were that it had been built by a race of giants he befriended, who lived in the mountains, but no Nhia-Samri patrol had ever encountered them. If the Nhia-Samri were a blending of Shar-Lumen’s mercenary troops, their families, and a population base from Sandeep, then maybe someone there still knew how to work on ships like the Emerald Heart. Also, with that kind of knowledge, many of the things that the Nhia-Samri had done suddenly made sense.

  We have magical generators of enormous potential. We have a shield that’s capable of repelling attacks of a magnitude I cannot imagine, and the magical gates, which, according to every mage outside of the Nhia-Samri, are impossible to create. We have the new odassi, which are altered copies of the more ancient blades that tap into our own magical resources. The prison collars hold a God or mage captive. Mage power channels allow our mages to use our magical resources, regardless of the local mana lines. Unbreakable chains made of more than simple metals. Shar-Lumen was a powerful mage, an unbeatable warrior, but even he couldn’t have done so much in so short a time without help.

  As he thought, his eyes focused on the murals in the ceiling. They showed a garden-like city with wondrous terraces. It spanned one whole side of the domed ceiling. The opposite side of the dome exhibited a series of people dressed in robes, with their hands interlocked, smiling, not down, but across. From the center, the sun blazed, and golden roped chains hung down, breaking apart into a series of chandeliers in stylized, glowing stars.

  For the first time, he realized the chandeliers were engraved. Pulling on the power of his odassi, he enhanced his vision and stood with his jaw hanging open. The blood drained from his head momentarily as he stood, dumbfounded that he’d never noticed the library’s chandeliers before. The stars were interconnected with bands of golden threads, and thousands of strange ship silhouettes were all throughout the chandeliers.

  That isn’t just a city scene! It’s a crescent-shaped city!

  His eyes dropped, and the vast library filled his vision. The size, the knowledge, and the history were greater than any library he’d even heard of. He realized he had to help protect the store of knowledge, no matter the cost. The world was no longer safe for some of the knowledge. It had to be preserved until the world was ready, and then shared. That was the secret of the Nhia-Samri.

  Giants indeed. The Nhia-Samri are the legacy of a great people. We must protect it for the future of all. Damega was coming here. He died protecting Hisuru Amajoo! The orcs wanted revenge for the Nhia-Samri hunting them down.

  With the world changing around him as his understanding of events past and present came clear, he felt he needed to translate Damega’s words. It took the rest of the day, digging around, but he finally figured out a rough translation of what Damega had said.

  He ordered the ship to crash. That was somewhat obvious. That he did that meant he believed the Emerald Heart could be used against us. Could the orcs really have taken control of it? And if orcs came from Elraci, and Sandeep was in the north, how could the orcs have made the Emerald Heart? Unless…. Elraci was founded by or part of Sandeep.

  Maru-Ashua had hoped it would be explained by Damega’s final words, but those didn’t make any sense. Still, they kept repeating in his head as he left Hisuru Amajoo for the newly renamed city of Lumendaria.

  What did he mean? ‘We tried. Tell General he was correct.’

  Chapter 16

  The Sacrifice

  Ticca

  Ticca awoke to the bright sun streaming down through her window. Standing up, she stretched. It was the day she’d been anticipating for cycles. The air was f
illed with the many fragrant perfumes from the flower gardens below her window. She took time to stand in the morning sunlight enjoying its warmth.

  She rang for her servants, and with their help, she ate, bathed, groomed, and dressed for the official ceremony. In only two marks, she was walking down the open corridors of the palace, heading for the throne room. Her four guards, in their ceremonial finest, followed at a discrete distance.

  As she entered the throne room, she smiled when she saw her father was there, speaking with Brandon and the chairperson of the Elracian Senate. He saw her and dismissed the others. The room was quickly vacated, which was unexpected. She felt butterflies dancing in her stomach as the last door was closed. When she turned back, he’d climbed the dais and sat in the Imperial throne.

  Oh, oh, this cannot be good.

  “Ticca, approach.”

  Her palms started sweating as she stepped up in front of her father.

  She curtsied, looking up at him with her head still down. “My Lord, Father.”

  He waved his hand at her. “Don’t.”

  She stood and said, “What do you command of me, then?”

  Sighing, he put his head in his right hand. After a moment, his shoulders straightened, and he scowled at her. His eyes held a deep sadness, like whenever he spoke of her grandfather. “I’ve heard the reports. I forbid you to make any announcements or formal requests at the ceremony. You cannot now, nor ever, marry Lord Lebuin. The Gods will not allow it, nor shall I.”

  She wanted to stamp her foot, but she knew it wouldn’t work. It hadn’t since she was much younger. Still, she had to try.