Orahda considered the question. “Since taking over the country, your progress has slowed. With the other distractions coming, your progress will slow even further. Perhaps when your son is about ten, I might need some practice armor.”
Dohma looked at his friend in shock. “I don’t have a son.”
“I suspect you’ll have one in about two years.”
Cundia punched him in the arm. “So you have already started keeping state secrets from your commanders. Very good. You’ll make a fine politician.”
Dohma looked, confused, between the two of them. Cundia lost control first and started laughing so hard, she had to grab her side and sit down. Orahda also joined her laughter. “My Lord, you look as if the ghosts of all your ancestors just drank to your favor.”
He felt the blood rushing to his face and knew he was as red as the evening sky. Pointing at Orahda, he said, “You have a twisted sense of humor.” Then, pointing to Cundia, “And you, too.” This caused the two of them to laugh even harder, as did a number of other Daggers and guards near enough to hear the exchange.
“My Lord, Duke has ordered you to, as he says, ‘get to work,’ and make a family. Our nation cannot be stable until we are assured of our ruling line. I know a number of nobles are already making enormous expenditures to ready their daughters for your inauguration. It is, therefore, safe to assume you’ll have something to show for your labor in a couple of years.”
Dohma sat down. “Even in debates, you are a dangerous opponent. Seriously, though, now that you know I am a regent, I could insist you take precautions from accidents.”
“You could do so. However, before I complied, one of you would have to be a real threat.”
Cundia laughed. “That is the oddest thing to say when you have been fighting a dozen or so very experienced Daggers.”
Orahda turned his glare on her. “Just because someone has had experiences, doesn’t mean they have learned anything.” He poked her in her ribs to punctuate the point.
She yelped. “Point, point. You win already. We can’t beat you.”
Orahda’s expression went serious. “So you’ll take second willingly?”
Cundia moved like lightning, standing and coming nose to nose with Orahda. Fire in her eyes, her voice was hard with resolve and passion. “I’ll get you yet.”
Orahda nodded. “Much better; that is a Dagger talking now.” He turned and walked off, entering his small office.
Cundia turned her eyes burning bright. “That is likely the best weapons master in the world, Milord.”
“How it is we have him, I do not know. But I do thank all the Gods for him. He has been an amazing influence on the guards. I think it would have been far worse when Duke found out the truth here, if it were not for the values he instills in the guards under his training.”
Someone called out, interrupting whatever Cundia was going to say. “Commander Cundia.” Turning with Cundia to see who was calling, he saw that Egal and Apanal, the Dagger commanders of Delta Squad, dressed in their loose, cream, cotton leggings with red vests and red turbans, were walking briskly towards them. “Commander Cundia, Lord Dohma, we have been seeking you both. A ship arrived a short time ago.It flies flag of Alliance of Realms and carries only woman dignitary. She claims to be an envoy of Alliance secretary general in Gracia, bearing urgent message for new regents.”
“Gracia? How could the Alliance secretary learn of events here so fast? It has only been five weeks.”
Cundia, Apanal, and Egal looked at him without comment. Shrugging, he started to grab his robes from the bench. “Well, this will make it an interesting day, for sure.”
The weapons master came out of his office and was stepping over to another group of Daggers when he saw Egal and Apanal. A curious look came over Orahda’s face, and he had started to turn away when Egal spotted him. Egal’s eyes turned into saucers, and two odassi appeared in his hands from the air. Egal backpedaled away, bringing the odassi up to guard.
As fast as Egal reacted, Orahda reacted faster. Before Egal had moved a step, Orahda had already launched what he was carrying at Egal. Egal’s reflexes were incredible, almost matching Orahda’s. His first odassi managed to deflect the heavy, spinning, wood writing board Orahda had been holding. However, the second odassi couldn’t stop the large quill pen the weapons master always used, which flew like an arrow into Egal’s neck. Egal had been about to say something, but it came out as a gurgled cry, instead.
Apanal spun and also pulled a pair of odassi from the air. Apanal’s reaction was even more surprising. He lost his senses. His pupils became large, inky pools, which doubled the size of his eyes. His grip on the odassi was so tight, his knuckles went white. Apanal tried to say something, but all that came out was a garbled shout. “AAMM HORRORA URUA AJOO!”
Egal pulled the pen from his throat. His mouth moved as if trying to say something, but he only produced a whistle as he collapsed to his knees, dropping one of the odassi. His eyes, locked onto Orahda, burned, and he tried to seal the hole in his neck with his hand. Pressing his hand over the hole, he tried again to speak, but blood and air bubbled out between his fingers, and blood poured from his mouth. Still, his eyes remained locked on Orahda. As he fell to the side, he threw his remaining odassi at Orahda with more force than seemed possible. Orahda deflected the missile by knocking it out of the way, like an annoying insect, while dodging enough to be untouched.
Orahda grabbed some knives from the bench near him, throwing the first at Apanal with deadly speed. Apanal tried to block and dodge, but could only manage to get partially out of the line of the first knife. The knife sank deep into Apanal’s shoulder, causing him to scream in pain. That shocked Apanal back to his senses. His eyes cleared and he took control of himself. Apanal blocked a second thrown knife, which moved faster than an arrow, with his other blade, and was screaming, “AMI…” when a third knife sank into his throat, cutting off his cry.
The weapons master walked toward him with a handful of knives; with each step, he threw another knife. Apanal stumbled back, moving fast to dodge and parry the thrown knives. Orahda’s knives flew like arrows from a longbow. Apanal twisted, causing the next knife to dig deep into his other shoulder. Still, he resisted, holding onto his odassi. Despite his wounds, his blade caught the edge of the next knife, deflecting it, causing it to strike his stomach. With that, he fell to his knees, and the next knife found its mark into the heart. Apanal slumped down into a sitting position, his head falling forward and his arms dropping by his sides, never letting go of his odassi. Apanal didn’t fall.
Damn, he looks like he is pinned there with all those knife hilts sticking out of him.
Egal was lying still, but his lips were still moving, desperately trying to say what he had failed to say, as if his soul depended on it. Egal’s eyes remained locked on Orahda with an intensity hard to imagine. Orahda stepped up to him and bent down, whispering something in his ear, before stabbing him in the heart. Egal smiled as he died, blood pouring from the holes in his neck and chest, as well as from his mouth.
What in the eight kingdoms just happened? Orahda has never wounded anyone beyond a bruise. I knew he was a hardened warrior, but I never imagined he was capable of such actions. Dohma looked at the dead men. Like everyone else, he stood there in shock at the rapid murder of two of the command Daggers. His palms felt sweaty and cold, taking in the scene. Orahda picked up his writing board and retrieved his writing pen from Egal’s dead fingers. Orahda cleaned his pen, using one of the many rags normally used to wipe sweat away.
Cundia recovered her composure. Stepping up, she crouched in front of the slumped form of Apanal and yanked the knife out of his heart; the movement caused the body to fall over. She stood and kicked the odassi out of his dead grip with her toes. “Crud, we were using them to feed bad intel to Hisuru Amajoo.”
She isn’t surprised? Were there really Nhia-Samri agents in the Dagger squads? “Um, Orahda, why did you kill them? Were they about to atte
mpt to kill me?” Please say yes, because that would, at least, make some sense and let me exonerate you for killing military officers. The realization of how deadly Orahda was came as his mind grasped that Orahda had just single-handedly taken down what had to be two excellent Nhia-Samri with a clipboard, quill pen and a handful of small practice knives.
Orahda shook his head ‘no.’ “Lord, we cannot discuss this here. Do you intend to arrest me for this crime?” Orahda’s voice was as calm and steady as if this was just a fighting demonstration.
Cundia looked at him, and the other five Daggers stepped up closer, looking a little worried, but determined, with their hands on their knife hilts. They are worried about what Orahda might do. Honestly, so am I.
The officer training, ironically provided to him by Orahda, kicked in and he swept his mind clear of the emotional thoughts. “I can’t let two murders go unpunished without reasonable cause.” Looking around, he saw that only he, Cundia, five Daggers, four guards, and Orahda were present. “Why can’t we talk here? Are any of these others a threat or untrustworthy?”
The Daggers and guards looked annoyed at even the suggestion. But then, they had to admit that two officers had been exposed as Nhia-Samri agents. Orahda looked around and smiled. “All present are very trustworthy. My Lord, I will not resist arrest. However, I ask that it be confinement in my quarters here. I also request we discuss this in a secure location due to possible magical scrying.”
Looking around, he had to admit, they were in the open with two dead Nhia-Samri agents. Then his mind gave him an answer he felt good about. “Orahda, we are at war with the Nhia-Samri, and disposing of two of their agents is justified, especially considering their placement as senior command officers. I will consult with my fellow regents, recommending this be considered war-time action against enemies of the kingdom. I do, however, order you to remain here in your training areas, quarters, and offices until we rule on this.”
“As you command. I reaffirm my loyalty and oath to the Kingdom of Aelargo. I shall obey.”
A female Dagger ribbed one of her fellows. “Damn, I thought we were going to get out of that minor beating…ah, I meant training.” The other Daggers chuckled, as did Dohma, as the tension washed away.
Cundia stepped in. “Lord Dohma, I recommend we dispose of these bodies via the palace smithy furnace.”
Orahda pointed. “Don’t touch those odassi blades. I will dispose of them.”
Dohma nodded. “Agreed. Everyone, you are sworn to secrecy about this incident. Orahda, I will want that talk later. However, I must first attend to the kingdom business waiting in the docks, which I assume was true. In the meantime, clean all this up and let none find out about this.”
Everyone bowed to Dohma, then set about cleaning up the mess. Turning, he hurried away to his own new quarters. I can’t wait to talk to Orahda about this, but where can we talk that would be secure? As he moved through the palace, he tried to think of a place, when the royal vault came to mind. It wasn’t a secret that it was there, and he knew it had far more security than unbreakable walls. Okay, now to find out if this really is an Alliance representative.
Walking into his rooms, he found four valets had already laid out some regal-looking clothing and vestments. He jumped in the tub filled with hot water, scrubbing off the sweat. Getting out, the valets attacked him with towels and combs. In less than a quarter mark, he was clean and dressed, heading for the throne room.
As he approached the throne room, he realized that three Daggers, including Cundia, had materialized behind in him, joining his four guards. The other two Daggers were from Bravo Squad. All three Daggers were dressed identically in elegant leather vests, pants, and blue silk shirts. The vests had the sigil of Aelargo emblazed in gold over the right breasts, but with an added dagger behind it. The vests were armored and the weapons were not decorations. Dagger regent guards will make an interesting impression. I like these new vests they made. Nodding to Cundia, he let his attention return to recalling the right procedures for dealing with visiting dignitaries. He had witnessed such greetings in the past and recently had hours of protocol lessons with the master of ceremonies.
Stepping into the throne room, he found it was being cleared of all the papers and materials that had consumed them for the last five weeks as his sister, brother, and he had been tracing the linage of every supposed noble. A dozen honorable noble houses had been confirmed; another dozen had come forward after Duke announced the investigations and pleaded that they had upheld the kingdom, in spite of their ancestors being party to the usurping of it. They had judged most of them safe for minor duties until a few more generations proved their house loyalties. A few others had been stripped and been given the choice of military duty, guild laborer work, enlistment in the navy, or a handful of coins and orders to stay out of trouble. He was not surprised by how many had chosen to take the coins and fled to some other kingdom. Those that had remained were being watched closely.
His sister entered, looking regal in a shimmering dress of light blue and wearing a silver regent’s tiara of office identical to his. The only difference in their vestments was that he had a mantle of silver links identifying him as the head regent. Her personal guards, like his, were dressed in the standard formal uniform of the city guard. I am glad we chose to eliminate the official royal guards. I think the city guards feel a lot more pride knowing that they are responsible for all such duties. His brother and his personal guards entered shortly after, wearing clothing similar to his own in silvers and blues.
All the guards made themselves useful and helped move some of the larger furniture into a side corridor while Cundia and her Daggers coordinated some of the other traffic. He smiled as he noticed that the Daggers were never more than two steps away from him or his siblings, and at least four personal guards remained nearby. Helpful without neglecting their duties, and the guards are picking up on that behavior, too. I am thankful Duke left so many Daggers here.
Looking over the throne room, he was shocked by how wonderful it was that the palace walls had been exposed and the pillars removed. The floor stones had also been removed, exposing the ancient inlaid sigil of the Kingdom of Aelargo. Together, he and his siblings stepped up to the ornate wooden chairs arranged in front of the dais which held three thrones for the long-dead princes. His family was loyal to the royal bloodline and would never sit in the thrones. Someday, he hoped the royal bloodline might be rediscovered, as Duke had found the regents’ bloodline in his family.
Sitting down, he signaled the guards at the door to allow the Aelargian nobles in. The personal guards for his family took a formal ranking order to each side of the dais. The Daggers stepped up to stand, one each, to the right and just behind each regent. The doors were opened and for the first time in over five hundred years, the true nobles of Aelargo assembled in the throne room under the true regents to address the kingdom’s business as a full court. He felt a wave of happiness and unspeakable emotions as the nobles came into the room. He couldn’t help it; he smiled with a radiant look of pride. Looking to his right and left, he saw his sister and brother were having the same reaction. His sister dabbed her eyes and winked at him.
The nobles, some in new robes of state, entered the throne room and admired the transformation. Dohma had sent word that only Imperial nobles, visiting dignitaries, and invited guests would be announced formally. Many of the nobles had already sent him a note thanking him for reducing all the ridiculous pomp that had been on display every day for the last five hundred years.
The nobles filled the room, and Dohma smiled at his sister. “Ellua, I still cannot believe what we have done. It is hard to believe that in only five weeks, we have created so much quiet elegance and order.”
His sister smiled and nodded to some ladies who had drifted close to her. “Dohma, this is as it should be. My heart, for the first time in my life, rejoices at seeing the throne room, even though I have been here hundreds of time before.”
His brother waved in greeting at a recently restored noble whose family had been serving in the palace only a couple of days before as workers and pages. “Dohma, I should have asked before, but I gave all the holdings of the usurper, Baron Riollan, to Count Allusia’s family. I found some records indicating some of those properties had been theirs before.”
Dohma looked at the most recent noble who, until a few days ago, had been a page running errands in the palace. He was a stately man of nearly fifty with a handsome streak of silver on both sides of his otherwise slate-black hair. He was always doing anything he could to help others. I remember him serving late nights for me at times. He has grown grey in service to his kingdom and this is a fitting role. Only, he looks a little too nervous. I hope he doesn’t collapse. “Riollan was as bad as they came. I have no problem with that order. Although, I have to say Count Allusia looks uncomfortable.”
His sister leaned over. “Not to worry; I asked Baroness Morthan to make him feel welcome and help him and his family adjust. See, she is already taking him in tow.”
Looking up, he saw the matronly baroness pulling the count along, cutting a path for him to a better position in the court. Smiling, he patted his sister’s hand. “Excellent. The baroness can advise him on keeping the properties in order and help with the bookkeeping.”
The silver ship’s bell at the doorway rang once, indicating the approach of the dignitary. The court finished arranging itself so that by the time the bell rang twice, the throne room looked ready to receive even the Emperor.
A tall, slim, beautiful young woman dressed in an almost form-fitting purple and gold uniform, with a silk, full-length cloak draped artistically back over her shoulders, stepped up to the door. Her dark purple, split skirt was translucent over a matching set of leggings. Her red hair was set into an elegant twist which allowed some strands to drape to her shoulders. She wore no weapons and had only a black pouch with some kind of golden symbol painted or cut into its fine surface, hanging on her belt. In her right hand, she carried a large engraved staff made of a dark, reddish wood surmounted by a golden disk stamped with the crossed quills symbol of her office held in place by filigreed ornamentation. A warm, but pleasurable, tremor passed through his body on looking at her. Behind her, in purple pantaloons page uniforms with stiff collars decorated with golden filigree stitching, were four aides walking in step. Each aide carried a dark leather valise.
Thread Strands (Golden Threads Trilogy) Page 5