Thread Slivers (Golden Threads Trilogy) (36 page)

Dohma looked at Duke, confused. “Excellency, I don’t understand half of what you say. Was there something you needed of me?”

Duke laughed. “Sorry Captain, short version: we have accurate records where truly smart thieves would have left none. They thought they had outsmarted the world, and so became stupid bureaucrats. We will likely be able to sort everything out in time. Your sister is a great help; thank you for recommending her as someone in the financial office I could trust.” Duke motioned to the other side of the table where Dohma’s brother was busy with the scribes and clerks resolving noble lines, coordinating communications with the officers on the docks, and keeping the merchants informed with estimates for when their goods could move again. “Also your brother, who was the head steward, is doing well coordinating all the extra activities. I am deeply grateful to you and your family. Your family is making this whole job a lot easier.”

Dohma bowed. “The honor is to serve your Excellency.”

When he looked back up Duke was giving him a peculiar look. A crashing sound of masonry falling drew his attention. Both Duke and Dohma looked to where a pillar that connected the dais to the wall was giving way under the workmen’s hammers. “Ah, at last! Come, Captain, this is what I called you for.” Duke stood and walked to the back side of the dais, where the wall section, which had been hidden behind the pillar, was now revealed. There was a recessed, high-arched doorway with a large steel door which had a bolting mechanism with a wheel and two grips so it could be turned easily with two hands. The workmen cleared the doorway itself quickly and Duke made a motion at it. “Captain, if you would please.”

Dohma stepped up to the hidden door and grabbed the handles to open it; however, a very strange tingling feeling in his hands caused him to let go and jump back, looking at his palms. He bounced off of Duke, who had moved up very close behind him. His hands looked fine. He looked at Duke, who encouragingly said, “Just some built up static, Captain, nothing to worry about. Please open it up.” Stepping back up to the door, he took a breath and grabbed the handles again, ignoring the odd tingle. He expected the mechanism to be frozen with age but it turned easily. There was a sound of many bolts being pulled back as he twisted the wheel by the handles. He pulled, and the door swung open silently.

Looking back at Duke, he saw that the wolf was still standing close and had been crouched slightly, as if getting ready to spring into action against some foe. Duke relaxed, sat down and just stared at him, thinking. Dohma stood there waiting. After a time Duke looked at the door. “Well, that cinches it.”

Confused, Dohma looked at Duke questioningly. “What, your Excellency?”

Duke motioned to the darkened room beyond. “Captain, lead on please.”

“Should I get a lantern?”

“Not necessary, just step in; we need to talk in private.”

Dohma took a step into the dark room. He could make out a fine, polished stone floor and the beginning of a case by the light pouring in from the throne room. As he stepped inside, the room brightened as a series of panels along the top of the walls lining the entire space slowly lit up, like the sun rising. The box panels looked like they were shallow wood planter boxes which obviously contained something that poured out a bright white light up onto the white ceiling, providing excellent lighting without shadows. The room was larger than he had guessed, being a long rectangle that went away from the throne room. The room was forty feet by nearly a hundred-and-a-half in length. The door was in the center of the shorter wall. The walls were lined with shelves of books and artifacts, and down the center of the room were more shelves, as in a library. At the far end Dohma fancied he saw huge chests.

Duke stepped into the room, which was more than spacious enough for him, and the door closed behind him on its own. Off to the right was what could only be described as a lounge area. There were a dozen comfortable chairs, low tables, and foot stools, arranged as in a smoking room. There was also a wine cabinet, a tobac humidor with a glass front, and a small bar with dozens of bottles of varying shapes and sizes, all containing liquids. There was even a small sink with a faucet sat next to that with racks of drinking glasses.

“Dohma, it is time you were truthful with me.”

Dohma spun and stared at Duke. “Your Excellency, I have never told you a lie! I am your servant and would never conceal anything important to the state from you.”

Duke looked at him. “Well, that is about the answer I would expect from a Prince’s Regent.”

Dohma felt the blood rush from his head and he was dizzy for a moment. Duke just sat and watched him. Upon regaining his composure Dohma said, “Excellency, I am just a guardsman, nothing more. I was not part of the usurpers’ family. I am from a humble family of servants.”

Duke shook his head. “Only a regent, an heir to the throne, or I could open this room. That is why they sealed it up from view. They probably tried to break in through the walls and ground, but discovered that this palace is not made of stone but something they had no chance of breaking. The door was always kept behind a tapestry, so most didn’t even know this archive was here. I suspected something like this, but without the true archive, or other artifacts that have been stolen or sold off, I couldn’t confirm my suspicions until this door was exposed. By opening it you have proven your bloodline. I know you are not me, so are you a regent or an heir?”

Dohma pointed at the closest chair. “Your Excellency, I need to sit.”

“By all means, relax. I see an excellent spirit there in that first rack — in the blackish bottle with the wines. Pour yourself a small glass and sit down.”

Dohma was too confused to think. He took the smallest glass he saw and poured himself an ounce of the fine-smelling liquor.
I definitely need a drink.
Holding the drink, Dohma practically collapsed into a chair. Looking around, he absently took a drink of the amber liquor. Fire blazed in his mouth; it moved with speed out through all his limbs and into his head. He felt power such as he had never thought possible. He felt as if he could fight a hundred men and not be tired. He felt his muscles relax and their energy suddenly restored.

His thoughts became crystal clear. He had been drawn to join the guard because his brother had joined the staff and his sister had taken up with the scribes. He had known his place from an early age, and had gravitated to the covenant and studied it deeply. He had been drawn to learn the laws of the land — some he hated instinctively, but others he knew to be right and just. His other guardsmen had followed him readily enough. He saw he was a natural leader and tactician. He could easily be a regent. He knew for certain he was not an heir, as that ancient line would be bolder and stronger than he. He wasn’t sure how he knew this.

He looked at the empty glass and then at Duke, who had been watching him closely. “What was that?”

“That was a several hundred year-old sharre.”

Dohma looked at his hand as if it was a traitor. “Excellency, that was a priceless treasure I just squandered.”

Duke shook his head. “No, that was a needed medicinal hit to the head of the Prince’s Regent to put him in working order. Just one of the many perks of your new position.”

“How can this be? My family are just simple servants!”

Duke tilted his head slightly. “Well, I didn’t expect to have to explain this... But, you see, a boy and a girl, when they are between about thirteen and sixteen, meet someplace private and they…”

“Excellency please, that is not what I meant!”

Duke laughed. “But that is what happened. Obviously some young scamp of the regents’ line had a tumble or three with a servant girl, at just the right time to save the line. If it had been the other way; a servant boy having a tumble with an already recognized regent’s daughter, the result of that tumble would have been welcomed into the family immediately, of course, and then promptly killed off with the rest. Since then your family has served the kingdom as best as it could. Your family probably remained close and did much to help keep all those fine records we are finding out there. Although your ancestors didn’t know it, the behaviors, loyalty, skills, and talents are kind of built-in. You are almost everything you were born to be. Only now you will complete yourself, as will your brother and sister. I have found the missing regents, and glad I am that your bloodline is not lost. I suspected you because of your actions before and during the transition of power, and also I liked you, which usually takes a few years and a couple of fights.”

Dohma shook his head. “I don’t want to rule.”

“That is good, because you will find you don’t
rule
so much as guide. Kingdoms have a life, and they need to be guided, but really they tend to work just fine without much interference. Lord Dohma, how old were you?”

“I’m thirty-five, why? Wait, why did you say ‘were’?”

Duke looked worried. “Do you have children?”

“No, I am not yet married. I have dedicated my life to the guard.” Then Dohma realized what Duke was worried about. “Excellency, my brother married young and has a wonderful son. My sister is twenty-six, with two children, a son and a daughter of her own born before she turned twenty. We are, however, all that remains of our family line, as many uncles and aunts were killed young, in the war.”

Duke shook his head. “Well at least there is something to work with here. No one can breed many kids anymore. Your sister is lucky to have had two children. You must make sure the little lads spread some wild seeds as soon as they hit puberty. Permit the girls to marry at sixteen to their heartthrob; trust their instincts for a husband. Remember the law that your line produces no bastards. Marry them to the ones they get pregnant if you must for propriety, but adopt and embrace all bastard relations. With careful work we can insure the safe continuation of the line.”

Dohma felt an old feeling of excitement and energy, like the days when he first joined the guard. Except this energy was still growing in him; somehow he felt younger. He stood and looked at himself. He felt different. “What has happened?”

Duke smiled. “The truth, a little mental adjustment, realization of an internal need; oh, and by the way you’re now about twenty-three. But don’t tell anyone, you can easily hide the backshift once at this age range. So you have about seven years to woo some damsel into your bed and make some brats of your own.”

“Twenty-three! Why does that only give me seven years, what happens when I turn thirty?”

“It is too long of a story for now. It isn’t by design or malicious intent, and the Gods try to compensate. I know you noticed older people never have children. The truth is men over thirty and women over twenty-five are sterile. The doctors will tell you it is just how nature works, and they are right, but for the wrong reasons. The Gods have purposefully and truthfully — as far as they tell it — directed possible blame at themselves with some of their teachings. The reality is that magic is dangerous for all creatures from our original lands, but is life-giving to the elves, dwarves, Gods, and creatures of magic. The ambient levels had to be balanced very carefully: just high enough to allow the creatures and peoples of magic to live, and just low enough to allow the creatures and peoples of our lands to live. But even at the safer lower levels magic still has some side effects; one specifically is that it sterilizes humans. We really didn’t have much of a choice, and the Gods try to make sure people live without much of the diseases of old age, giving everyone a good chance to at least know their great-grandchildren.

The end result is that from puberty men have about fifteen years of fertility; women only have about ten because they generate all their eggs up front. Kind of poetic justice for being too prudent, I think. So you must marry a woman who is as young as possible — eighteen or so would be great. It won’t be difficult once you are formally announced and installed as a Prince’s Regent. Every remaining noble will be tossing their daughters at you like candy. Trust your instincts there, too. When you meet the right one you will know.”

I can’t believe I am having this conversation. If magic is detrimental to humans and others need it to live I can see why this is kept quiet.
“How did you restore my youth?”

“Me? Oh no, it wasn’t me, it was the sharre; that bottle was old when they bought it, so add on the five hundred years it was locked in here, combined with this room’s design to preserve everything and
voilà
— roughly six or seven hundred year-old sharre at least. I wouldn’t suggest squandering it to a drinking binge; the results might not be as good as you think. I suggest keeping it a family secret, and then one glass only in the direst of situations. I would guess each swig of that is worth at least twenty thousand crowns.”

Dohma felt a little dizzy realizing he had just consumed something so valuable. Then he looked at Duke, who wore a real smirk. “Seriously, getting too old without making the proper number of kids is a dire situation?”

“Hey, I am improvising here. We are just damned lucky you are who you are — and yes, I still think this was an appropriate use. Are you going to start questioning the word of a lord of the realm?”

Captain Dohma stood up in front of Duke. “If I feel I must.”

“Good answer. Now that we have confirmed that sharre is as old as I suspected please pour another glass of it and pour it down my throat.”

“Excellency, is that wise?”

“You’ve stepped up to the new role pretty fast,
Lord
Dohma.”

Am I questioning Duke?
Looking within, he knew he was right. Those feelings he had always had, which helped him make the right decisions, were now even stronger.
I am a Regent and I have responsibilities. I will not allow timidity to prevent me from protecting the realm.
He looked squarely at Duke. “You showed me who I am. I serve willingly and gladly. You didn’t answer my question.”