Thread Slivers (Golden Threads Trilogy) (8 page)

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Sputtering for air, Ticca sat up in bed. Her heart was pounding hard.
Where am I?
Shaking her head, she looked around the dimly-lit room. Sunlight was filtering in past the cracks in the shutters over the small window. The room smelled of dust and the faint hint of a musky perfume was teasing her nose.
Sula’s perfume. I am in Llino. This is my room at the Blue Dolphin. What the heck was that dream all about? I’ve never experienced anything in it at all; nothing even close, except maybe the hunting and tracking.

She moved shakily, her new boots silently hitting the hard wood floor and giving her a more grounded feeling. She bent over, holding her head for a minute as the final cobwebs cleared from her mind.
That forest was so real. But I have never been in it before. Those squirrels were huge. And who was that man who carried me into the lake? In the dream I knew him. Except I don’t think I have ever met anyone that looked like him before.
Standing, she stretched and twisted, feeling great.
Amazing what a good night’s sleep can do.

Then she remembered the crowns.
Maybe the whole night was a dream.
Looking quickly at the table she sighed.
Well at least some of it was real
. She reached for the new pouch, grateful it was still there and real. Opening it, she pulled out the four shiny gold coins and small glass vial. She sat back down on the bed and placed the vial on the small table, playing with the coins in the sun’s rays coming through the window.
Four crowns in one night; I am going to make it here. I proved I’m a capable Dagger. Sula is no fool — that she paid me this means I proved myself to her.
Smiling to herself, she stood, putting the coins back into the pouch.

Carefully and slowly she went through her ritual morning stretches as best as she could in the small space. Her body virtually flowed through the movements without any complaints.
Wow I am feeling amazingly good considering the beating I took last night.
When she stretched her arms behind her she gritted her teeth, expecting the sharp pain her poor shoulder should have given her. Instead she was able to complete the back stretches without anything more than the normal slight pains of muscles loosing up.

Confused, she took off her shirt and examined her arm where the night before the large bruise had been. Her skin was a healthy dark olive. Stunned she looked over every place she could get to where there had been damage the night before. After careful examination she couldn’t find a single blemish. All of the abuse from the night before had vanished as if it never happened. Even more interesting was that her skin was a fairer, more uniform color, as it had been when she was a few years younger before coming to the city.

I know I didn’t dream the fight, and I had dozens of bruises in the bath last night. Seriously, I should have been hurting for at least a few days.
Putting her shirt back on, she sat down on her bed, thinking through everything that had happened.
I have never healed this fast.
She looked down at the boots and thought about it for a minute.
Could these boots be magical? I’ve never heard of healing boots. Actually, healing boots would be very practical and not likely to be suspected or taken if captured.

Taking the boots off and opening the shutters she examined them very closely once more, this time with the help of sunlight. They were still of the unusual very fine leather lined with a dense reddish brown fur with the best stitching she had ever seen.
Now I know where the red squirrels in my dream came from. Dreams are funny, oversized squirrels instead of a bunny or an ermine, this fur is like a denser rabbit fur.
Laughing at her imagination she looked closely at the stitching.
I know I have seen stitching like this before. But I can’t place it.
Shrugging to herself and turning the boot over, she examined the sole’s construction. It was made from semi-hard leather that had been treated with something that made it glisten in the light and felt slightly tacky like tree sap, but not so tacky as to pick up dirt or dust.
That is a neat trick
. There were no raised heels, but the heels were stiffer with some internal support under the fur. She flexed the boots and found that the front of the boots were as flexible as her toes.
I can climb with these. With the tacky sole treatment I bet I can climb even better with these on then off.

The fact I am alive is all the magic I need for now. Magical or not, these are the finest boots I have ever seen.
Putting the boots back on her feet, she stood and gathered her belongings. She slipped her belt through the solid loops on the new pouch. It took a few minutes of playing with the throwing knife sheaths’ arrangement on her belt before it felt comfortable and she was satisfied with the impression it would make. Putting the belt on over her shirt, she wiggled to be sure it settled comfortably onto her hips. She slipped the knives into the sheaths, trying not to look.
This needs to be automatic and look smooth
. She took the knives back out again without looking. Practicing drawing and sheathing each knife in turn, in groups, and at random took a little while. Eventually she was sure she could make it look good when needed.
Forget the cross-belts; this is a good set-up, now it’s time to see if I can make these work for me.

She put all her weapons around the room and stood in the center. Slipping sideways, she stretched her foot out; angling her boot toe under one throwing knife edge, she kicked it into the air. She turned around, caught it with her off hand, and sheathed it in one motion. Bending backward she scooped another knife from the table and one from the chair with both hands. The knives were sheathed before she had finished turning to step over the new short sword. Sweeping down, she picked up the short sword and then used it to flip the final throwing knife in the air and towards her from the far corner of the room. She sheathed the sword as she caught the knife. Sheathing the throwing knife she spun, grabbed the dagger from where it laid on the floor and brandished it in a single motion ending in a defensive crouch with another throwing knife in her other hand. Stepping forward, she spun and sheathed the dagger and throwing knife together as she straightened.
Not bad, not bad at all
. She started smiling at what she imagined that had looked like.
With so many knives I might get mistaken for a Blade. ‘Course with my cloak hiding some, this will do very nicely.

Feeling great, she grabbed her pack and dropped it on the bed. Not much was actually left out. Still it took a minute to pack everything else efficiently into the pack. Giving the room one last check, she checked that the new belt pouch was properly latched closed, and tied her pack closed as well. She slipped her shoulder pouch over her head and let herself enjoy the anticipation.
Today is going to be so much fun. I have wanted to do this for cycles
.

With a very wide smile, Ticca locked the door, dropped the key into her new pouch, and then went down the three stories to the common room. Naturally the room was already busy. Genne was talking with two merchants, and three girls were moving around the room cleaning tables as well as serving new breakfasts with hot arit or jeel. Looking around the room, she saw that there were as yet no Daggers present. In fact there were only a handful of local workmen present; most workmen who breakfasted here had likely already been and left for the docks due to the early tide today. The few merchants present were all locals. The tradesmen had likely already headed to set up their goods in the trade square.

Ticca turned and walked the short distance to the very specific table she’d dreamed of sitting at for cycles. The table was one of the many open tables used by known Daggers. It was also one of the eight that could be permanently designated to a Dagger or Dagger fire-team. It was not a large table, just big enough for maybe two Daggers and a client or two to share. It had the advantage of being near the bar and the stairs, yet still commanded an excellent view of the left main room. It was also close enough to hear clearly the left room’s performing bard which was important to keep up on the best tales, news, gossip, and of course enjoy the entertainment. It was also far enough from the bard’s platform to allow conversing with clients. Most importantly, the table backed to a shallow nook so she could sit with her back to a wall so no one could come up from behind.
It pays being an early riser. I beat Hairy and Frumpy again. But today I am going to move up a notch.
Licking her suddenly dry mouth, she took some deep breaths to try and slow her heart, which started racing as she approached the table. Glancing around out of the corner of her eyes, she boldly sat down at the small table.

Even though no one looked as she sat down, she was sure a few took note. Genne didn’t even stop his conversation and she’d half-expected him to protest.
Genne hasn’t kicked me away from here, so he at least is willing to let me sit here.
She let her pack fall into the shallow contour of the wall, which meant it was out of sight from the most of the room. She watched the room and shifted to get more comfortable; her shirt was sticking to her back a little.
Damn, I was more nervous than I expected,
she thought as she covertly pulled her shirt away from her back. Leaning back against the wall, she felt her smile grow now that she had successfully taken a more prominent Dagger table.
A couple of notches higher on the Dagger scale, now I need to earn it.
It only took a few seconds before one of the serving girls came over and put down her breakfast in front of her.

“Which would you like this morning, your hot arit or the milk we got in? It’s real fresh.”

Ticca smiled at her for the courtesy of the total lack of acknowledgement of the significance of her chosen location. “Actually this morning I’ll take both.” The serving girl stood for a second to see if she was going to be asked for the price of the milk. When it was obvious Ticca was not going ask she looked a little curious, but nodded and moved off towards the kitchens.
Ah that got you a little curious.
She let her smile turn to a smirk.

As Ticca was taking her third bite, the serving girl came back with her milk and hot arit. Setting down the drinks, the girl moved off to take care of other customers. The expected familiar pair of young men came in the door and headed straight for her table. But, seeing it occupied, they stopped for a second and then turned, taking a different table. Ticca watched as they said something to the serving girl that made her shrug as she gave them their breakfast.
Asking if I am an ignorant merchant’s daughter or something I bet.
I know who you are and I know who you tend to work for, but you haven’t been paying much attention to anyone other than the big league Daggers, have you.
After the girl brought back some hot arit for the two Daggers they drank deeply and then the hairy one put a highly polished dagger into the dagger holder in the center of their table. It had a wide winged hand guard, and a simple circular pommel; its hilt was wrapped with a blacked iron cord.
Interesting, that is new. You two have only been doing simple patrol and guard stuff. Trying to move up to bigger jobs is risky. Especially since neither of you really look like the heavy fighting types.

A soft thud announced Genne’s arrival at the table. She looked at him as he leaned back in the chair. He had taken the other Dagger chair which kept most of his back to the wall with only the kitchen door a serious approach threat.
Always got your back covered, don’t you.
She smiled as winningly as she could, causing him to frown and cross his arms.

His tone was a little tired, like a scolding father, “Ya knows d’rules.”

Taking another bite of the breakfast, she kept smiling and chewed for a moment before answering, just to try and draw him in a little more. “Mm, been meaning to chat with you about them, I think some things need to change.”

Genne’s face actually scrunched to that as if the mere thought of a change to the Blue Dolphin’s rules caused him physical pain. Hairy was nudging his companion and indicating her direction in anticipation of the show. Genne’s voice changed to lower than normal, still calm and somehow very scary as he answered, “D’rules aint chang’n, m’lass.”

Bait, loop, and trap all in one shot.
Keeping her winning smile she unlocked the pouch at her belt and reached in for the crowns. Except instead of feeling the four coins she expected, there was a couple of small cloth bags and other items she couldn’t identify by touch. She heard her trainer’s voice in the back of her head saying, ‘
Never let them see you flinch.’
Looking back at Genne she saw she must have reacted somehow for him to pick up on as he began to frown even deeper. Now Hairy and Frumpy were smiling themselves, seeing Genne’s obvious growing annoyance.

She tried not to sweat or look confused. One of the small bags was obviously a coin purse, and felt heavy with coins.
Oh Lady, what has happened to me? Please be enough.
She brought the coin purse out and opened it. Trying to act casually as if nothing was wrong she looked down and her heart skipped a beat or two. Shining back were more than fifty crosses, as well as some cheras, bells, pence, rings, and even three crowns. One slightly worn crown was sitting boldly on top like it was the king of the bag, which it was.
Lady, thank you.

In the back of her head her trainer’s voice continued on. ‘
Always go for the greatest impact
.’ Reaching into the purse and grabbing a crown and twenty crosses, she continued. “I meant,” with deliberate motions putting the coins on the table, crosses first, punctuating her words, “changing our arrangement and my room.”

Genne’s eyes took in the purse and she was sure he could somehow sense the precise value of its contents. He then leaned forward and just as deliberately took the crown. He examined it, tasting first and then checking the heft against his years of experience handling such coins. “Well, d’night was good for you.” Looking down, she saw that all the coins had vanished. “Der is a few Dagg’r rooms open.”

“Yes, well I want a small one, preferably not too close to the stairs or baths.”

“I’v jus d’one.” Patting his pouch, which his hands had not gone close to prior, “Dis will give ya three cycles if’n ya don’wan food, two if’n ya wants all meals with’n hyly, arit, an yer milk.”