Thread Slivers (Golden Threads Trilogy) (38 page)

Two ranks? You strip me of two ranks?! I am barely more than a cadet.
Looking firmly at his Colonel, he answered, “I will serve well. And after?”

“Return to Llino Twelve via Rhini Wood. Find out more about this Ticca. You are in no way to make contact with Ticca’s family in Rhini Wood, nor are you to do anything more than intelligence gathering. I expect a complete report in four weeks.”

Picking up his swords, he sheathed them respectfully. Bowing once all the way to floor he stood and walked out of the room to prepare for the journey. Bitterly, he thought,
I shouldn’t need a second chance. But I will take it.

Preparations didn’t take long. Within a mark he was fitted with a breathing system. The underwater breather was a set of tubes that attached to a float which could be changed to look like a small piece of wood or floating garbage or reeds or whatever was appropriate for the water it was to be used in. The breather would allow fresh air down one tube only and the second tube exhausted his breath by small holes under the water, making bubbles which were too small to be spotted except up close, and then they would look like they came from a water animal. A simple valve switched back and forth based on his breathing allowed him to breathe in good air and vent the bad. It also had a helmet made from glass and wire which allowed him to see very clearly. He knew if he went too deep the glass would shatter and likely kill him.

He was also handed the weights needed to stay submerged. The water was extremely cold, especially near the bottom, but his constitution could deal with the shock. Once in the water, he walked calmly down the bottom of the Delivery Channel, careful of the traffic and his breathing system. His papers, some clothes, and supplies were sealed in a water-tight harness that was strapped to his back. Once in the harbor, he carefully dropped some of the weights until he was able to easily maintain a good depth at just under the fifty-foot reach of the breathing system. Swimming slowly, he found the harbor was blocked by gates made of steel bars which were impossible to squeeze through.

He searched the docks for a way out, and finding none, he sat by a gate underwater, breathing slowly.
Sooner or later they have to open the gate for a merchant; that will be my time.
The day wore on and he grew very tired. The sun passed out of sight and he felt the tides pulling him into the gate. He let the water pressure hold him there and rested. Sometime later a ship was approaching — he could hear its movement in the water and behind him; he felt the gate swing silently open. After a day of struggle, escape was as simple as relaxing and letting the tide sweep him out of the city.
Duke, I have escaped you. But, the Lords permit, I will be back.

He stayed underwater until he was sure the ship was out of sight and he was far from the city. Slowly, in the dark, he surfaced in timed stages as he had been instructed. Surfacing to the starry night sky, he paused to enjoy the sight and then struck out for shore, which he could hear in the distance. He was east of the city where the marshes merged with the river and sea, creating the great swamp lands. When his foot hit the muddy swamp floor he knew he was close enough to shore to stand, but there was no dry land in sight. Taking off the heavy gear and the water pack he rearranged everything so it could be easily carried.

Looking up at the stars, he found the ones he needed. A little observation and he knew which way to head. He had studied the detailed maps of the marshes and was able to guess where he was. He also paid close attention to any sign of predators, as the marsh contained hunters that could kill a man before he could cry out.

I need to avoid contact, so I will have to skip the trader routes.
He concentrated on remembering the maps. Then it came to him.
There is an abandoned fishing home not far off. I might be able to rest there.
Turning, he confirmed the landmarks and then began carefully navigating through the swamp beds. He stayed vigilant for any of the numerous predators. After just over a mark, he spotted the leaning house in the darkness. The house was little more than a dark outline against the greens of the swamp trees and shrubs. He approached cautiously, looking for signs of other people or predators.

The house was empty. A small thrill of success went through him and he gratefully climbed onto the solid grass-mound. Finally being able to stand on dry land, he found some old fishing net, made a hammock, and strung it as high as he could between two strong palm trees. He then hung his stuff high in the tree and climbed into the hammock, falling asleep almost instantly.

The morning sun woke him up. Looking down he saw that a couple of predators had come through to investigate his scent.
I must have been exhausted to not have woken up when they came looking for me.
Looking up at the tree where he had left his pack he saw it was still safely in the tree. Getting up, he took the hammock down and put the netting back where he had found it. Grabbing his pack, he put on the simple traveling clothes with his knives hidden under the shirt. It was four days to the outpost if he walked.
I don’t want to spend another night in this swamp. It doesn’t matter how tired I am, I need to move fast right now.
He started the walk ten, jog ten travel pattern that he had been taught.
I should get out of the swamp by sunset and then another half-day will see me at the outpost.

The day moved on about as fast as he did. The running and walking became like a meditation. He carefully reviewed every decision he had made and action he had taken since being informed that Magus Vestul was to be intercepted before he met with Duke, the information he carried in his pouch at all times to be sent to Hisuru Amajoo unread, in no way was a Nhia-Samri to come into direct contact with Magus Vestul, and anyone not Nhia-Samri involved was to be eliminated without a trace. That assignment had fallen to him. He had found a Knife capable of killing Vestul and stealing his pouch, which would hold what Hisuru Amajoo desired. The Knife killed Vestul but did not make it to the meeting, having vanished himself. Which meant the Knife was still to be found and eliminated without a trace. Ticca had appeared by surprise. Ticca had been seen in a number of key locations over the past cycle — too many locations to be a coincidence. When it was discovered she was acting for Dalpha’s Temple he had decided she might be involved, which would mean the original orders applied to her.
A real puzzle was how was Dalpha’s Temple involved?

Ticca had left the Dolphin boldly wearing Magus Vestul’s pouch.
I should have seen that as a warning. In hindsight she was clearly baiting a trap. She wanted to pull us out and expose our involvement. Her trap worked perfectly; I was a fool and fell into it. I ordered her to be removed and the pouch recovered immediately by one of our own. I cannot see how she managed to hire or involve that mage. That he is a special operative is clear. How did they communicate? Unless Dalpha’s Temple was communicating with the Guild… I had not ordered the Temple to be monitored. It must have been coordinated through the Temple. The foolish-seeming mage stepped in just perfectly and laid our involvement open to the world. She played me for a fool. She pretended ignorance and efficiently ran down exactly what had happened to Vestul. Her speed at recreating Vestul’s movements was another clue that she knew more than we thought. She was just going through the motions, and again I fell for it. She had his pouch, which meant the Knife either sold us out or more likely she caught him and extracted all he knew then killed him. I am still missing something, I am sure of this; she didn’t need to spend the day tracing Vestul, unless that was just a ruse to throw us off. That must be it — she was blinding us. Interesting techniques, by publicly hunting what she already knew she confused me, which led me straight into the gate trap. I need to learn from her brilliant tactics. What is her next move? If I can get ahead of her I can turn her own trap on her.

By the time he reached the outpost he had managed to puzzle out every aspect of Ticca’s traps.
She will work with Duke to destroy all of our operations in Llino. Then, knowing little or no warning was, or could, be sent to our command, she will turn to Magus Vestul’s home. Urio-Larne will be forced to destroy the command post and all but the most critical records. He’ll get as many as possible out, probably by facing Duke and Ticca directly. If I hurry I can beat her to Vestul’s Algan home.
Smiling, he realized he had the chance to get ahead of Ticca and Duke. He was free of the city before they expected, through the impenetrable defenses.
I will destroy it and then wait; they will not expect a burnt shell. She’ll come in by herself to keep suspicions down; but seeing the burnt-out house she’ll realize she has been expected and will have to move fast to recover. She’ll be concerned that we recovered from the house what she tried to stop us from gaining in Llino. She’ll race back to get support; they’ll have a secret camp set up beforehand. If I capture them I can gain the information we need and present that to Warlord Maru-Ashua.

I need someone who can play the part with me. The perfect operative will be a top-rank fighter with speed, mage-neutralization training, and who can sing and play an instrument well so we can pose as bards. I’ll need to make sure to burn the house a day or two before we get to town, so as not to arouse suspicion. Small villagers are narrow-minded and superstitious to a fault, if there is a fire and there are new people in town it will be blamed on them.
Smiling, he laughed.
Of course in this case they’d be right.

The outpost had no new communications from Llino. The commander of the outpost read Urio-Larne’s orders carefully before allowing Ossa-Ulla his pick of the outpost’s gear, horses and personnel. It took a day of careful interviewing before he hit on someone that would work. Fate was friendly and he found a gifted fighter, mage, and musician in the form of a beautiful woman named Runa-Illa. She was perfect for his plan. He gave her a short brief of the guise they would need and special equipment needed, along with the gist of his plan without precise details. She accepted the secrecy without comment and prepared their equipment admirably. All the equipment, new or old, had been distressed to look well-used and reasonably maintained. She chose to take a hammer dulcimer to complement the only instrument he could play better than most traveling musicians, the twelve-string guitar. It took two days to assemble everything, and he pressed her hard in fighting practice to help prepare her for Ticca.

Pre-dawn on the third day after leaving Llino, he and Runa-Illa mounted the light but fast horses loaded with all the right clothes, gear, and instruments of a pair of traveling bards. As they left the outpost, Ossa-Ulla took the lead, riding at a fast canter south until out of sight of the outpost and far enough to let them cut past the southern farms of Llino. Then they turned west and kept the horses moving at a steady trot. As they passed Llino the sun had just started to rise. The early morning light showed a series of smoke columns that could only be from a section of the city burning. Stopping to roughly triangulate the sources he knew that the command post was burning.
Ticca, I will rend you in the old style.

Runa-Illa was also studying the smoke columns with a questioning look, yet she respectfully remained silent as good subordinate should. He broke the silence. “Llino command is destroyed. We are going to complete their last order to prevent the Dagger responsible from gaining any critical information. Then we are going to capture, interrogate, and kill her.”

Runa-Illa looked at him with cold green eyes which burned bright with her soul. She slipped off her horse while drawing her odassi. Kneeling, she held them out in front of her, blades crossed near the base just above the copper bands. Putting her head down, she said softly, “I serve, command me.”

He slipped off his horse and drew his right odassi. “Your service is honorable.” He touched his odassi blade at the point where her blades crossed the stamped mark on all three odassi glowed red. Sheathing his odassi, he mounted. “We must make best speed for Algan. We have to beat them there.”

She stood, sheathing her odassi, and mounted as well. Turning their horses, they spurred them back to a trot. Using the trot-walk travel pattern they would be able to get to Algan in perhaps a week and a half. Ossa-Ulla knew he had to get there in less than thirteen days so he could burn the house then wait a few days before the “traveling bards” got there.
Ticca will be leaving Llino in two or three more days and will hurry, but not as fast as we move.

Chapter 13

Hunters hunt