Writing > Threads Part 2

Chapter 63

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Daen:
Chapter 63

Perhaps it was due to the stress of the previous day, or perhaps it was the sheer volume of information and decisions dropped on him in the past week… but for the first time in years, Arico overslept!

He woke suddenly in the guest room in the manor, and sat up abruptly. The sun was already high in the sky. Arico took a deep breath as he sank back into the bed again. Between his training in the Enclave, his duties as a farm kid in Tellek, and most recently his activities in the movement, he’d never had the luxury of sleeping in. Even as a child that had been the case. A farm’s workload was impressive, and Durhu had been able to do only so much. That was one of the reasons why farmers, both stra’tchi and Sustained, usually had large families to help spread out the chores.

Still, there was something relaxing about it. The Twin Suns ceremony wouldn’t start until nearly noon anyway, and it was soothing not to have to think about anything for a while. Even Odjes had been absent in his dreams last night.

With a sigh Arico got up again, but more slowly. If a farm kid shirked his duties, it would mean hardship for himself and his family. If Arico did so, it could mean hardship for tens of thousands of people. It was a burden he’d carried ever since he’d been old enough to speak, thanks to the Hauld.

It had been two days now, and he still couldn’t believe the old man was dead. The destruction of the Enclave had been bad enough, but at least Arico had been there for that! The Hauld had just been murdered and disposed of in private.

Over time, perhaps without him even realizing it as it happened, Arico had come to see the Hauld in a different light. Berilo was correct: the Hauld had struck first. While Arico had no doubt that the Council would have eventually tried to wipe the dwarves out again, there had been a Pact, and the dwarves had broken it.

Arico shook his head. What would he have done differently, in their places, though? Making peace with your enemies was all well and good, but how could you maintain that peace if eventually they would try to kill you?

By the same token, could he spare the Council today?

They would be meeting soon, in an hour or so, from the water clock on the far wall. He would be called to the Spire where he could kill them, Berilo, and the traitor Pratun, all in one stroke. Along with Jaas, too.

Could he trust her? She’d said she had a plan, and she’d always been smart and driven. But she was also idealistic. Time and time again she’d seen the best in people, even when it wasn’t there. After the Enclave had fallen, even after she’d been forced to kill someone with her own hands—she’d still wanted to spare the Council! For all Arico knew, her plan wouldn’t be enough. One didn’t become a ruler by being soft-hearted after all. Both Berilo and the Hauld were evidence of that.

Arico smiled slowly as another realization came to him. The movement wasn’t only about fighting for stra’tchi freedom and an end to the corrupt Council. It was also about symbols. Representations to the city of who stood for what.

The Hauld had been mostly a man of peace, but to the city he was seen as evil. The Council had made sure of that through decades of lying to the people. Propaganda through plays, proclamations, and rituals. Berilo actually was evil. He’d overseen those lies, and had allowed or instigated the deaths of thousands of people, most of them children, during his reign.

The Clarion was seen as truth and justice by the people. In reality, he was just as twisted around because of his willingness to hide Hazra’s many murders.

Jaas was seen as oblivion by the people. Her unfortunate destiny as the Harbinger promised the end of the world to them, and whether she believed it or not, Arico did. If he thought the prophecies could be averted, he would have sent her away the day he’d found out!

And then there was Arico himself. The people saw him as a rebel, and a revolutionary. A traitor to some because of the Laentana, and a savior to others who’d been told what Ta’anu had tried to do. The Hauld had wanted him to be a tool made to protect the dwarves—and Arico did miss the old man, despite how stubborn, irascible and overbearing he’d been. Odjes had often told Arico to be what he wanted to be regardless of what others thought.

But what did he want to be? A farmer? An explorer, wandering the lands Outside with Jaas as his guide? A peaceful bridge between the dwarves and humans after the Council was gone? A teacher, bringing the truth that had been hidden away inside Penntu patch to the light and sharing it with everyone?

The one thing he didn’t want to be was a leader, but that wasn’t an option anymore. Regardless of who you asked, true leaders all had one thing in common: they had the most important decisions to make. The choices that affected the most people. That was him. Straightening his shoulders, Arico called for Chulesh to help him get ready.

-.-

It wasn’t anxiety or nervousness that Nemith was feeling from inside the threads. It was more of a sharp sense of inevitability. If you knew your friend was about to do something terrible, and there was nothing you could do to stop it, how could you feel about that? What was an appropriate response?

Nemith held a window open into Sevvas patch, keeping an eye out for any patrols. Taen was beside him, with his face and a spyglass extended out from the threads and into the patch itself. It made for an odd picture, too. Inside the threads Taen took the form of a dog—a sort of wolfhound that was bred in his old home before he’d come to the Enclave. When he stuck his face out of the threads, Nemith could see his bones and muscles through the window as if his head had been cut open cleanly. He could even see blood as it was pumped into his face and back out again.

It was actually kind of distracting, so Nemith focused on the tool he was using. The spyglass was a marvelous dwarven invention, despite the fact that it had to be outside of the threads in order to work. After the destruction of the keep, this was probably the only one left, in fact. Nemith felt that sour, dull ache inside his gut again.

Taen was busy watching the Spire, while Nemith was watching out for him. It was unlikely any patrols would come out this far, but it was better to be safe than sorry. The Council had arrived only moments ago, and had entered the Spire together, according to Taen. It wouldn’t be long now. The seconds stretched into minutes, and nothing happened.

Taen pulled his head back into the threads. “There’s a procession leaving through the main doors. I can see a few of the House sigils. It’s the Council.”

Nemith let out a deep breath. “Then Arico must have failed. They… probably executed him days ago. It was a mistake to even let him try this. We should have stuck with the original plan.”

“You couldn’t stop him, remember? Not even Jaas could do that. Don’t blame yourself for Arico taking risks on his own.”

Taen was probably right, but Nemith still felt responsible. “Come on. We should tell the others.”

“Wait.” Taen’s brow furrowed, and he leaned in again for a few moments. “I see Arico! He’s part of the procession!”

“What? Let me see.” Nemith reached out and took the spyglass with his hand, and then leaned through to see for himself. It took a few seconds for him to find the procession and focus in on it, but it seemed Taen was right. Arico was there, walking behind the Lord Ascendant and the rest of the Council. He looked subdued, glancing down at the ground as he walked. Behind him, bound and gagged and being led by one of the Ascendant guards, was Jaas, too!

Nemith tried to keep his surprise hidden. Even inside the threads it might be noticeable. What in the Multitude was she doing there? How had the Ascendants captured her? Slowly, Nemith returned to the threads, and the spyglass vanished as he did so. He thought for a moment, and then looked over at Taen. “Come on. It won’t take them more than a few minutes to get to the courtyard. We have to get down to the tunnels and tell the others.”

His stomach clenching, Nemith navigated them down underground while reflecting on what he had to do next. Arico’s failure was bad enough, but Jaas being here was orders of magnitude worse!

Inside the tunnel, which was lit by torches mounted on both walls, Nemith handed the spyglass back to Taen and called for the others to gather together. It only took a few seconds, even with all two dozen of them. Ever since the tunnels had been completed, their strike force hadn’t had much to do but sit around and wait.

“I have some strange news for you,” he said without preamble. “For some reason it seems Arico decided not to go ahead with his plan. He’s there in the Council’s procession right now, and they’ll reach the Courtyard at any moment. I don’t know what he’s thinking, or why he spared them,” he lied, “but I intend to find out.”

It was pretty clear that Arico had been unwilling to kill Jaas along with the Council. Just like Alzhi, Nemith had been uneasy about having a civilian girl involved in their affairs, despite how useful she’d been. Now it seemed their fears had been justified. Arico’s attachment to Jaas had undermined him completely, and he could no longer be counted on.

Nemith took a deep breath. “I’m going down there to the Courtyard to listen in on what’s going on. I should be able to reach the walls unnoticed. The Ascendants—what few of them remain—will be focused on what’s going on inside the walls, not outside. I’ll be able to hear them speak, and maybe figure out what Arico has in mind.” He turned to his left. “Taen, you and Banos will watch from the threads. If it looks like they’re about to leave the courtyard, go ahead and light the fuse immediately. Don’t wait for my order. Otherwise, just hold tight. I’m willing to give Arico the benefit of the doubt here, but we can’t take any chance the Council might get away.”

“You can’t go alone—are you crazy?” Taen cut in, while at the same time Banos objected as well.

“Light the fuse? With you and Arico down there? You’ll both be killed!”

Nemith gave them both a stern glance. “I know this isn’t what we planned, but it’s the best way to figure out what’s going on down there.”

Betalla spoke up from the back of the crowd. “What if you warn him? If you can get his attention, he can pull on the threads and escape, just like he taught us. Right?”

Nemith shook his head. “We can’t take the chance. Arico taught us how to pull on the threads—for all we know the Council can do it too by now. We can’t give them any warning or they might vanish. So yes, I expect you to light that fuse even if it means killing me and Arico, and the Hauld! We have a duty to the people of Patchwork, and we swore to give our lives if necessary to fulfill that duty! Understood?”

None of them looked happy about it, but one after another they nodded in obedience. It really was fortunate Taen hadn’t seen Jaas back there. If he’d told the others about her… well, sacrificing your own men to take out the enemy was one thing, but some people had compunctions about doing the same to women. Especially women they’d come to know. He dismissed them, and most of them went down the tunnels to make sure everything was in place before returning to the threads. One of them stayed, though.

“Father?” Tarith asked up at him, after the others were out of earshot. “Are you really going to do it? Are you really going to kill Arico?”

Nemith felt a sympathetic ache. Tarith and Arico were close—by Aquun, Arico had even taken care of him as a baby from time to time! His reaction was understandable. But Tarith had just turned twelve now—the cusp of adulthood. Very soon he’d be called on to fight, just as other boys in the Fishbowl had been. It was true, boys were considered men at younger ages in the stra’tchi patches, but Nemith had embraced that tradition long ago, and raised his son to follow it as well.

“I will do what I must to protect the people of this city,” he said as gently as he could. “Arico would understand that, as would the Hauld.”

“But you said Arico spared them, and you don’t know why,” Tarith said in confusion. “What if he’s changed his mind?”

“That’s why I’m going down there,” Nemith continued impatiently. He needed to get going. “Hopefully I’ll find out what’s gone wrong. We don’t know for sure why Arico didn’t bring down the Spire. Maybe the Council drugged him and he’s not in his right mind—or maybe he took a blow to the head. Regardless, a soldier doesn’t disobey his orders, even if he doesn’t agree with them. You don’t understand the burden we all face as soldiers protecting this city yet, but you will in time.”

He put a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Now go with the others. If something goes wrong and I don’t come back, it’ll be up to you to protect your mother. Understood?”

Tarith still looked troubled, but he squared his shoulders. “Yes, sir.”

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