Thread Strands (Golden Threads Trilogy)

by Leeland Artra

  Hiri-Rula quivered and stood, moving off to a safe distance to watch the process with fascination.

  They are alive! I always suspected this.

  She became aware of the personalities of the dying blades. Some seemed wise, accepting their fate with a thoughtful surrender, and others fought back, expending the energy they had, defending against having it taken.

  The inevitable happened. Her blades’ tendrils found the colonel’s odassi. The colonel’s odassi, at first, looked like they were going to surrender. However, as she watched, a sudden flare of energy burst from the colonel’s odassi at her blades, like a deep thrust. Her blades screamed and flashed red-orange as they exploded into hundreds of pieces. The colonel’s blades sucked in all the power from the explosion and leapt into the air, landing at her feet, hilts up towards her.

  The colonel’s blades came to me!

  Her mind raced over that strike, destroying her blades.

  I washed them, and I felt little power from them. Yet, they did the impossible. Am I to take them?

  She reached down and touched the hilts. A flare of power arced into her from the blades. She heard and saw Colonel Mishia-Ollan’s dying thoughts and sight. She felt his immense pride in her and his desire that she should survive to avenge him through honor.

  I am colonel, and these blades have chosen me. She grabbed them and picked them up, feeling the power in them.

  You masked your power, didn’t you? How did you do that?

  No answer came. She tested the blades and found they did not have any connection to power. They had a significant reservoir of power of their own. They felt different from her odassi. Looking them over, she noted that the maker’s mark was different; it was still a stylized cat, but the moon behind the cat was not circular. Instead, it was oblong. Also, the cat was not the Nhia-Samri snarling, fanged cat face. Her memory recalled from an ancient history book that the first Nhia-Samri emblem didn’t have a moon, but this odd egg shape, and it used a mountain cat’s closed mouth profile.

  These are original Nhia-Samri blades! These come from the time only select officers received odassi blades. That makes them several thousands of years old!

  The blades, being the same size as every other odassi, fit well in her sheaths.

  Hiri-Rula decided she needed sleep. But first, there was a duty to perform. Reaching out to the mana line again, she pulled in much power and cast another incantation. All the bodies of her fallen comrades lifted around her and arranged themselves on the roof of one of the barracks. Once all of the bodies were arranged, she bowed her head and raised her hand, letting the power flow. The entire building burst into flames.

  Hiri-Rula stood and watched reverently as the building became a huge funeral pyre. She wept for her friends, falling to her knees. The roof collapsed, spilling the bodies into the core of the building, which was white hot. Sparks, smoke, and flames leapt into the night sky. As she cried, she felt as if two powerful warriors stood in mourning with her—one on each side, just behind her, with a hand resting on her shoulder. Through teary eyes, she looked down and imagined she saw the translucent boots of those great warriors. She was grateful for their presence, even if they were the imaginings of her over-stressed mind.

  When the fire had burned down to a smoking pile, she went back to the kitchens. Making her bed more comfortable, she fell into it and was instantly asleep. The night passed as she slept the sleep of the exhausted.

  It was the late morning sun streaming in the windows that awakened Hiri-Rula from dreams of parting hugs and well-wishes from all of her fallen friends. The last was the colonel, who nodded to her, patted her shoulder, and said, ‘Listen to your heart, follow it, and honor will be yours. It is left to you now.’

  Blinking at the sun, she sat and held her head. “That was a strange dream. So clear, and I remember it all.” Standing, she stretched, feeling almost normal. “Well, I need to clean up, and see what happened to the base.”

  She went and unsealed the barracks she had sealed before the fight.

  I wonder how much time has passed. I don’t know how long I was sleeping.

  Stepping in, she grabbed some clean towels from the stacks on the shelves and went into the showers. Using her own magic, she heated the water and gave herself a complete and thorough bath. She hunted down some clean clothes from the storage areas. Feeling ready for what could come, she went out to the yard and started her investigation.

  The yard was clean, except for the darkened areas where her friends had bled. There was no evidence of the attackers anywhere. After looking for any clues to the attackers, she approached the main doors to the base, which were splintered and smashed, having been hammered in by the attackers. Inside, dirt and dust was everywhere. She created a mage light and stepped down the halls. Most of the doorways were smashed open, as if something had been searching through them. Following the wave of destruction, she discovered a deep hole in the main meeting hall.

  I didn’t know there was something under here. I wonder if the colonel knew about this.

  Hiri-Rula walked around the hole, looking for a way down. Behind the colonel’s throne, she saw a smashed-open panel and a stairway going down. The passage was collapsed only a few feet in, closing it off. She returned to the hole and called on her magic, using it to create a magical platform she could float down on.

  The room below the main hall was not large, with a doorway and the beginning of some stairs.

  That must connect with the secret panel above.

  The room had some kind of apparatus made of inlaid gold, silver, and crystals. What it was, she didn’t know, as it was bent, twisted, and melted beyond any hope of figuring it out. The walls were all burned. Odd metal and glass panels hung off the walls, also bent, twisted, and burned.

  Picking up various objects that caught her attention, she examined everything in detail.

  I have no idea what this was, but it was the focus of the attack. If we had stood aside, would those creatures have destroyed this, and left us alone? Her curiousity was burning with questions about this mysterious room that had been under her feet for years. I wonder how long this has been here and what its purpose was.

  Hiri-Rula was about to leave when a bit of copper caught her eye. Picking it up, she saw it was a twisted medallion stamped with the same symbols as had been on the necklace which tied her to the Nhia-Samri powers. She felt dizzy as the blood rushed from her head.

  Hiri-Rula looked around the room in realization. This was our power source! This was the source of the magic I used and which gave energy to our odassi blades! We were using some kind of ancient artifact. Why was this kept a secret from me?

  Dropping the burned and twisted copper medallion, she created a disc of force under herself that lifted her up and out.

  I need to think about this. Time to leave—I have a long way to go.

  It took a full day to pack everything she needed. Standing in the main yard, she contemplated the empty outpost. Three pack horses were loaded with her possessions, as well as all of the odassi blades, carefully wrapped. Everything of value she was leaving was in the outpost’s vault, which she had sealed with magic and its impressive locks. She had more than enough gold and silver in her packs to deal with any expense she might encounter. She had released the remaining horses and livestock to roam.

  Mounting her favorite horse, she looked around one last time, running checklists through her head to be sure she had done all she could to insure the safety of the outpost, once she left.

  If any thieves come, I hope they see the Nhia-Samri sigils and decide it isn’t worth losing their lives to try and steal from us.

  Kicking her horse, she led the pack horses out and headed east for Warlord Eshra-Zunia’s main Aelargo outpost, where all the other warriors had been sent.

  I need to tell the warlord of these events. As she rode, she considered the possible implications of that hidden power source.

  It was obviously a secret. Why would it be a secr
et?

  Hiri-Rula’s hand brushed on the ancient odassi hilt. At some point, the odassi incantations were altered and tied to power sources like our outpost’s. But these have tremendous power, and I can tell their incantations are far more potent, yet require less magic than my original odassi.

  She let her horse pick its way as she shifted to mage sight and traced the incantations in the ancient odassi. The incantations were potent and there were pathways she couldn’t understand yet. The usual speed, reflexes, and strength-boosting incantations were there, as well as a number of defensive shields and enhanced battle sense.

  That battle sense still puzzles me. Tracing the incantation, she tried to figure it out again. How can a spell provide not only warning of impending attacks, but also provide analysis of the enemy during battle, helping us find weak points in armor?

  These ancient odassi are superior. They used magic more efficiently and provided slow collection of magic. Experimenting, she discovered she could draw on their power for her own incantations, if needed. Channels allowed feeding magic to the odassi to fill their magic storage. There was a limit, and both of those blades were fully charged. It is almost as if the new odassi were purposely made to be inefficient, to waste power. Yet the power of the outpost was able to provide all that, and more. Perhaps I should not report on my deductions and thoughts for now. I need to understand this.

  ‘Good tactics, young warrior.’

  She started and pulled the horse up short, looking around. “Hello? Who’s there?” she called, while looking around for the source of the words. She was alone on the plains. “Hello?” I know I heard a voice!

  CHAPTER 12

  FACTS CAN BE INCOMPLETE

  An uneventful week of travel was almost over. Hiri-Rula followed the outpost scout who was guiding her the last mile to the outpost. As they came over the top of a hill, onto a semi-hidden valley filled side to side with tents, she gasped.

  So many warriors! I knew there would be a great number, but there are over two thousand here.

  Scanning the camp, she saw the banners of a dozen outposts represented. However, her own banner was not visible.

  I have to control myself. I’m a colonel now; I have to behave as one. Colonels don’t gasp in surprise.

  Concentrating, she regained control of her heart rate and schooled her face to the strict stern look of a proper commander. Straight-backed on her horse, she followed the scout into the camp. Every warrior stood and saluted as she passed.

  I must remember to speak with confidence to the warlord.

  Another colonel came walking towards her, from the opposite direction. Remain calm and look him in the eye. The scout stepped up to him, coming to attention.

  Should I dismount? She recalled that Colonel Mishia-Ollan rarely dismounted when addressing other officers.

  She posed on her horse as Colonel Mishia-Ollan had. When the colonel looked at her, she nodded to him as an equal. He returned her nod and looked at the scout. “Report.”

  “Colonel, I encountered Colonel Hiri-Rula approaching the outpost. She ordered me to escort her to the warlord.”

  The colonel looked at her again. “Colonel Hiri-Rula, forgive me, I am unfamiliar with your outpost.”

  She nodded, acknowledging the respectful query. “I am commander of Outpost Two.”

  His lips parted at the amazing claim.

  He must be from a more distant outpost. Based on that reaction, I would guess lower in rank.

  The other colonel’s voice remained calm and steady, despite his physical reactions. “Colonel Hiri-Rula, what has become of Colonel Mishia-Ollan?”

  She looked at him and paused, letting the silence indicate her superior status to him. He bowed as one of a much lower rank, yielding to her the authority. As he straightened, she nodded in approval. She also allowed a smirk to show, as many of the nearby warriors had stopped whispering, in realization of her closeness to the warlord.

  Colonel Mishia-Ollan said he often let himself smirk to demonstrate he was aware of others’ actions. A number of the warriors, as well as the colonel, stood straighter. I’ll miss you, Colonel. I still had much to learn from you.

  “Colonel Mishia-Ollan has fallen in defense of our outpost, along with the remaining complement, save for myself. I was his named successor in life and in death.”

  The surrounding warriors gasped in shock at her announcement. Many dropped to their knees, soon followed by their comrades, all of them drawing their odassi for the fallen heroes, causing a cascading ripple outward through the camp. She had to fight to not cry at the show of respect by the hundreds of warriors within sight for her fallen comrades. In the distance, she heard the regular camp sounds stop as word spread, and others stood in silence.

  The scout spun, white-faced, and dropped to his knees. He said, “Colonel Hiri-Rula, please forgive any breach of protocol.” He placed his head on the ground.

  She nodded to all the warriors around. “Sergeant Jula-Um, there was no breach.” She stood in her stirrups and looked out at the warriors on their knees with blades held out, facing down in respect. She called out loudly, “Outpost Two’s fallen, and I, thank you for your salute.” Sitting back down, she looked at the colonel. “Colonel, please show me to the stables and then to the warlord.”

  The colonel nodded, indicated the direction he came from, and then started walking. While riding past the scout, she smiled down to him. “You have served with honor. Return to your duties.”

  As they moved through the camp, many other warriors stopped what they were doing and bowed to her or held their hands to their chest in salute. She acknowledged every gesture with a nod and smile.

  Once at the stables, she called for some litters and dismounted. The colonel that had escorted her stood at attention. She motioned for him to be at ease. He held his stance for a moment longer, then stepped closer. “Colonel Hiri-Rula, the stable hands can attend to your possessions.”

  She nodded. “All, except these.” She untied the blanket and uncovered the packed odassi blades. Their bands had gone black. She frowned at the change. The other colonel drew his breath in sharply. “Were you attacked by Duke already?”

  She shook her head, picking one of the blades with a blackened band up. There was no power left, not even the slightest spark. The blade was inert, nothing more than a finely crafted iron sword. I’ll have to keep quiet that I knew I could feed them magic. After trying to give power to my blades, I don’t want to feed any other blades, except these mighty ancient blades I have now. For some reason, I know I can trust them.

  The stable hands returned with some staff sergeants who brought the litters. All the officers, warriors, and stable hands stood in silent salute as she performed her duty, laying the dead and broken blades out on the litters.

  When she was finished, she stood straight. “I am ready. Is the warlord available?”

  A command sergeant major that had been standing by stepped up and bowed.

  “Colonel Hiri-Rula, I was instructed to bring you to the warlord. I have sent word you would be delayed, once I saw this.” He indicated the litters. “The warlord awaits you.”

  She stood straight and jerked her arm, indicating he was to lead.

  Following the command sergeant major, she was pleased that as they entered the base proper, more senior officers, after bowing to her, took over as litter bearers until she was leading six colonels past dozens of senior officers and warriors who all bowed for the fallen. The doors to the throne room were open and braced by an honor guard of sixteen warriors. She almost stumbled when she recognized that the honor guard was made up of warriors that had been sent from her outpost.

  Looking her own warriors in the face, she was proud to see the pain, sorrow, and iron resolve in every pair of eyes. They all nodded to her as she made eye contact. These warriors are mine now.

  Warlord Eshra-Zunia stood as she entered, placing her hands on her hips in an authoritative pose. Colonel Hiri-Rula bowed to her. The command
sergeant major that had led her announced, “I present the Divine Colonel Hiri-Rula, commander pro-tem of Outpost Two.”

  Warlord Eshra-Zunia was silent for a full minute before she spoke. “Colonel Hiri-Rula, I welcome you to Outpost One.”

  Hiri-Rula knelt, drawing her odassi and holding them in the form of a cross before her, arms straight. “I am yours to command.”

  The warlord approached her and drew her own odassi, touching the top of her odassi cross. There was a minor flare of light from the bands of her odassi, less like the acceptance the newer odassi would flare out, and more like acknowledgement of the authority. These are indeed old blades.

  “I accept your service and acknowledge your rank and position. Rise, my number three. You no longer need kneel to me.”

  Colonel Hiri-Rula stood, sheathing her odassi, which she noticed the warlord inspecting with narrowed eyes.

  You recognize the ancient blades.

  The warlord indicated the litters. “Colonel, explain this sad vision you bring me.”

  Hiri-Rula had had a week to prepare this report, so she began at the beginning and explained in detail the events at her outpost. She included in the narrative the odd behavior of her odassi, except she left out the jump of the Colonel Mishia-Ollan’s odassi, explaining that her odassi had died in touching the colonel’s odassi. She also reported Colonel Mishia-Ollan’s dying command for her to take control of the outpost.

  The warlord and assembled officers gasped at the description of the hidden chamber below the outpost’s meeting room. As she explained that she no longer had access to her Nhia-Samri magic source, the warlord nodded. When she finished her report, the warlord sat down on her throne.

  Warlord Eshra-Zunia nodded. “I find your report excellent in detail. You have served with great honor. This provides me with answers to occurrences witnessed here.”

  The warlord looked at the command sergeant major. “Sergeant Jalka-Rovi, you will issue orders to all unit commanders: they are to report any dragonflies, and if possible, capture or kill them. I also want a count of any of the black beetles described by Colonel Hiri-Rula within the camp and surrounding area by tomorrow morning.” Jalka-Rovi came to attention, bringing his fist to his chest in salute, and ran out of the room.