Young Warriors (Wine of the Gods Book 10)

by Pam Uphoff

  "Humph!"

  Xen prodded them back to the subject. "Particular mentioned Dragon Girls? And Oners?"

  Rustle shrugged. "When we were, what thirteen? Not quite, I guess. We had gangs and rivalries. The adults kept ordering us to behave, so we went off to the woods south of town to behave badly. And ran right into the Oners sneaking into Ash to kill us all. I suppose they wanted to eliminate the most powerful magicians."

  Verse snickered. "Someone," she rolled her eyes toward Rustle, "walked around invisibly and took their guns. And Tromp flipped the Dragon Girls back to their dragon morph. They really do kill and eat their mates."

  "And none of them survived?"

  "None that we saw. There might have been a couple of observers back far enough that they got away." Rustle shrugged. "Lefty said there were a couple of missing horses, when they found their last camp, and their mounts."

  "That's where we got all our horses." Cor reached out and patted his old gelding. "And we made the Sheep Man pay for the mares he wanted."

  Havi rolled his eyes. "I think we got took."

  "But," Xen steered them back to business. "The Oners never came back?"

  "Nope. Not to Ash. Mind you, this was all in, umm, thirteen sixty-five? A few years before the first, little comet, was due to hit." Ras shrugged. "They all got the hell off the world—I mean, your world, not here—before the big one was due."

  "And haven't been seen since." His mother eyed him. "Apart from your marooned girlfriend. Right?"

  "So far as I've been told. Mind you, that doesn't mean there aren't any other Oners on the World. I've just read Oscar Harryson and Bran Butcher's reports, and it sounds like a fair number of the Oner women got scattered around."

  Rustle winced. "Those two were always getting into trouble. I guess we shouldn't be surprised they . . . disappeared."

  "If they broke out of a traveling spell with no destination location of their own . . . what happens?"

  Rustle shrugged. "You can't start the spell without two solid locations. It swaps a volume between them. I haven't the faintest idea what would happen to a part that fell off in transit, so to speak."

  "Why do they want our world in particular?" Ras had been born powerless. At twenty, he'd persuaded Rustle to add both wizard and mage genes to his chromosomes. At thirty-seven he was one of the strongest magicians of the Rip group.

  "Maybe there's a limited supply of habitable worlds." Havi glanced at the gate, a white glow to the north of the orange sunset.

  "I found seven uninhabited but perfectly livable worlds out of my first twelve tries." Rustle shrugged. "And five with people. It really doesn't seem too hard to avoid inhabited worlds."

  Xen bit his lip. "I think it's a combination of things. Neither of them want to cede territory to the other. The reports made it sound like they'd had, if not a war, at least some negative interactions."

  That got some raised eyebrows and thoughtful looks.

  "So . . . " Xen looked from his mother to the gate. "Can you magically travel through a gate?"

  "Not on purpose. Wolf can be summoned through one, though." Her eyes narrowed. "I can't get a location fix through a gate. I wonder if He can?"

  He with a capital H? Why can't I find a girl to worship me? Xen grinned. "I'll go ask."

  ***

  "No. Nor through a corridor. I've tried both. With corridors, there's nothing in the traveling spell that will engage the corridor's . . . nature. The spell just ignores the shortcut. I suspect the gates are the same, plus some aspect of distance is too great to touch a location through one."

  The old god slanted a glance his way. "Don't go around making gates. We don't need an invasion. The twelve gates we have are risk enough for now. We're lucky that we didn't open a gate to One World or Earth. Or the wrong part of Arrival. Ride back through the Crossroads and get a feel for what we have."

  Xen promised all the little witches that he'd come back and play dimensional games with them, and packed. Not that he had much. Turned down dinner. "I'm headed for the Tavern, so I'll eat there."

  Pyrite sighed over having to put a saddle back on again, and they headed for the Crossroads. An easy step through a corridor, and out the side of the Tavern. They crossed the road and turned to look at the hills.

  Xen thought his parents insane to have put the gates on a major road, a mere twenty-five days from Karista. It was late, and the gates glowed in the dark. People who were not magically talented wouldn't see them at all. Even the witches and wizards often couldn't see them. Dominic saw something. Should I recommend he get some magical training?

  He'd seen them before, of course, but this time he could see the gates from, so to speak, the side, see how they'd been made, where the World they attached to lay in relation to their World.

  The Tavern looked just like it always had. Apart from being in the wrong place and facing east instead of west. He sighed nostalgically and rode around to the back. Somehow he’d never noticed that the second floor was much smaller on the outside than the inside. Now he could see the interlinked bubbles. Lots of windows crowded together up on the second floor, letting light and air into rooms that weren't really there.

  The outside back wall was lined with bubbles at ground level. He squinted. Vegetables, flour, frozen meat. Harry had an impressive, invisible, larder.

  There were neither lights nor people in the barn, and the stalls hadn't been mucked out anytime recently.

  The soft clop of hooves was Harry's big old dun checking out the activity.

  "Hey Dun, what happened here?"

  The old horse sighed and shook his head. Xen could see the faint glow of the glamours that the horse used to disguise himself.

  :: Harry's lonely and sad. ::

  Xen unsaddled Pyrite and turned him loose.

  The back door of the Tavern was suddenly thrown open and a bar of light shone across the stable yard.

  "Harry!" Xen grinned in relief. "I was starting to get worried about you."

  "Xen! Now there's a familiar face. You've grown boy! Come in, come in. Sorry about the state of the barn, but Mot and Pixie decided that if they were ever going to do it, now was the time. They eloped. Married all proper down in Karista. They're going back to Ash, to build a new tavern there."

  "Didn't you have some other boys about the place?"

  "Mac and Tommo? Ran off to Ring World last year." Harry sighed. "Used to be you couldn't move in here without tripping over a witch or an orphan. Now I've run out of both."

  Xen blinked. "Harry, I've joined the Army. King's Own. Intelligence. Colonel Janic wants me here to keep an eye on the gates. I didn't know what to do other than loll around the Fort, bored to death and looking useless. But if I was just your stable boy, nobody would notice me and I'd be right on top of the gates. I could see everyone who came and went from them."

  "True, but what will this Colonel Janic say? Not to mention Rufi. Stable boy?"

  "No, really. It's perfect. Now, how about pretending I'm your latest orphan and feeding me?"

  "You know, there's a reason the witches took over the kitchen as soon as they got to Ash. In over a thousand years my cooking skills have never gotten past mediocre."

  "Well, between the two of us, we might manage to exceed that level, God knows I was around my mother in here often enough."

  Harry laughed. "Do you know how long it's been since anyone swore by a single God?"

  "Dad does it all the time." Xen grinned. "So probably just a couple of days."

  He spent the next day cleaning the entire barn. Then he headed back to Karista, to tell his boss about his perfect cover for watching the gates.

  "So Lieutenant, all up to speed on the gates?" Colonel Janic raised his eyebrows. "I'm going to set up a message system, so your reports get back to me quickly. Colonel Mikow will no doubt just hate having you there, but he's going to have to swallow it."

  "Actually, I had an idea about that. You know about Harry?"

  "Supposedly the God of Trav
elers? Moved that Tavern from a small village to an empty wilderness overnight? Yes."

  "I think he moved the Tavern during the day. Yes, that Harry. If I were to appear to work there, I'd be even closer than the Fort to the gates, I'd see everyone that comes and goes from the gates. And no one would give me a second glance."

  The colonel leaned his chair back further. "Hmm, yes. That's what I'd do with an ordinary observer."

  Xen shrugged. "That's what I'll be, most of the time. For the rest of the time . . . You know that corridor to Havwee? I learned how to make them, and I've dragged the end of one from the Crossroads to here."

  Janic raised his eyebrows. "Handy."

  "Well, it should be. What I need is a place to come and go from, as appearing and disappearing from thin air in public tends to draw attention."

  "Err."

  "So, I think I'll, umm, look for a small house or something. That way I can hand deliver reports, raise alarms, or report for dancing assignments as needed."

  "Err." Janic shook himself. "Rufi warned me I'd probably find you interesting to work with. Hang on a bit. We've got various safe houses, places where we put defectors and informants when they've been discovered." He eyed an array of pulls behind him and tugged one.

  A discreet tap and a man in a lieutenant's uniform entered.

  "Kef? This young man needs a small place, fairly near here. No problem if it's known."

  "Just you, sir?"

  "It might be useful if I could keep a horse there."

  "We have a small barn, with an apartment over it on Bayless." He coughed. "The main house burned down a few months ago."

  Janic nodded in sudden recognition. "Perfect. You can slice off what Lieutenant Wolfson needs and sell the remainder." He gave a wintry smile. "The way building lots are selling these days, we'll probably still show a profit."

  Kef Masterson gave him directions and a key.

  It was perfect, two stalls, a tack room, enough space to get a small carriage under cover and steep stairs up to a tiny apartment that shared space with a hay loft. He attached the end of the bubble he'd stretched all the way from Harry's to the inside back wall of the stable.

  The Great Grand thought it exceedingly clever, and put a guard on it. The collection of privates and their oversized dogs that ensured that no-one who didn't belong in Karista came through, turned the apartment into their bachelor's quarters and one of the stalls into the huge dogs' kennel when they felt the need to lock them up. "Hattie's part Hell Hound." Private Macintry said proudly. "Well, that and boarhound and alsac. The Army breeds their own purebred alsacs, and they added a couple of boarhound-hell hound cross bitches a couple of years ago. Our Sergeant keeps his ear to the ground and looks over all those dogs' pups."

  Looking at the intelligent gleam in the huge bitch's eyes, Xen had no doubt at all about it.

  He moved into the apartment in Harry's stable. And wondered how to lure witches in to cook. Actually, with the corridor to Ash it ought to be easy . . .

  Chapter Eight

  Spring Equinox 1390

  Crossroads, Foothills Province, Section One

  "Stable Boy by day, High Society Spy by night!" Harry chuckled as Xen fought with his cravat in front of the mirror.

  "Trust me, Harry. Mucking out stalls is the fun part. The other is just plain work."

  Harry chuckled. "Funny, how you look like you enjoy this life."

  "Oh, I do. But I'm not really a spy. Everyone knows who I am. But I almost feel bad abandoning you to your own cooking, now that the witches have gone off for the Equinox."

  "I just hope they come back. I just may feel the need to check on Mot and Pixie and their new establishment tonight." Harry stretched. "It has nothing to do with dread of my own cooking."

  Xen snickered. "Of course not. Tell them to not be stingy, and keep all the witches to themselves."

  Pyrite was all fancied up as well, mane braided and coat gleaming. He trotted through the corridor and across Karista to the afternoon Garden Party Lord Faloni was throwing to celebrate the engagement of his son to Lady Rena Mason. With the daytime arrival, Pyrite got more than his usual number of compliments, which perked him up.

  :: Still not worth wearing this wretched tack. ::

  "Xen you made it!" Rally was beaming, but anxiety was leaking all around him. He lowered his voice. "Dad wants to sell the house, what am I going to do?"

  "Do you know how much money is involved? Have you checked with Keith or Asti? They might like to take over Hoon."

  Rally stiffened. "She is not a slave, to be sold."

  "No, no. I didn't mean to imply that she didn't have any say in the matter. I just assumed you'd be giving her up."

  "But, but . . . I . . . and we have a baby. We named him Rufi, after The General. He'll be a year old tomorrow. How can I leave them?" He shuffled his feet. "Lester and Bay want their money out too."

  "Then it's time for you to be realistic. Sell the house. Probably make a nice profit on it. Then the four of you will have to figure out how to buy a smaller house on your income, and their Army pay." Damn it, Janic won't want his known One Worlder loose. "I can probably loan you some money, if you're in a bind." I could snatch the boy and take him to my parents.

  "Thanks, Xen. You're a pal."

  A messenger brought summons for his Lordship to come and be seen with his radiant bride-to-be.

  All the local nobility were out for this party, the older ones well displayed. Xen noticed the God of Just Deserts, sensibly staying away from potential disaster areas like the bar and the servants' path to and from the kitchens. His usual partner was with him. Trump, the Elder Sister of the Karista Bay Pyramid, the same age as his mother, and like her, looking perhaps twenty-five.

  He walked over and politely introduced himself. Trump looked him over like meat in the market, and apparently found him wanting. Lord Hell looked amused. "Oh yes, the unassailable Xen. I've heard about you from the girls."

  "Only bad things, I trust?"

  "Oh yes. You have failed to worship at their collective feet and are thus referred to as arrogant, snobbish, homosexual, common, neutered . . . the usual."

  "Oh good. I may survive their advancement."

  Trump glared and the god grinned. "Here comes your just deserts."

  Xen looked over his shoulder. There they were. All ten of them. "Is it difficult for witches to live in a city? I mean all the other women your ages are getting married, and you can't. Well, won't."

  Eleven glowers.

  Lord Hell chuckled. "Much though they'd all like to collect pets, yes, stodgy society is getting a bit difficult. I suspect the social circle will be in for a series of shocks over the next few years. I can hear the older women gossiping now." His voice raised to a squeaky falsetto. "'Lord and Lady so-and-so are expecting again, and one of those witches has had another bastard daughter. Do you think we should keep inviting them to our parties? Oh, and did you see that dress Baroness Whoist wore to the Royal Ball?'"

  "Dad!" The pale haired one in purple flushed. Heliotrope, trying to live up to her name. She looked more like Lord Hell than any of the others; Xen squashed speculation about their mixed up parentage.

  "Hmm, I wonder what the best approach is, though." Xen managed a straight face. "Stay away for months at a time and pretend nothing happened, or just let it all show and never mind the gossip?"

  He fended off eight charms in quick succession. "Oh, excuse me, I hear my sense of self preservation calling. Ladies, a pleasure to see you again, as always." He hustled away. Talk about tempting fate . . .

  "Dad, why didn't a bird come poop on him or something?"

  Their mother answered. "He's Rustle and the Auld Wulf's son, quite a powerful wizard on his own. Or he will be if he lives long enough. However irritating, keep him in mind when it's time."

  Garit caught that last and snickered.

  "I'm faster than they are." Xen said. "So, the first of the Gang is lost to matrimony."

  "He's not rea
l happy." Garit said. "I really don't like completely arranged marriages."

  "I come from a culture that doesn't do marriage at all. It looks completely insane, from my perspective." Xen shrugged. "If the bonds of love won't hold, why tie people together legally?"

  "It's for the protection of the women." Garit protested. "We can't have a pack of women and children starving in the streets."

  "Of course you can. Watch the House of Six Prostitutes fall apart. Your culture will not help the women. Mine would."

  "If they were married, the men would be legally obligated to support them."

  "I don't recall that they were offered that option." Xen said. "They're better off than they were as prostitutes, but not all that much better. I guess it's a matter of the pervasive lack of real power. All women have is the power of money, and that is forfeited when they marry."

  "So, more of the young gang, come to commiserate?" Dominic thumped Garit on the shoulder, and nodded to Xen.

  Keith chuckled behind him. "I think he's doing well. Lord Shy is very well to do, I expect he'll settle a good bit on Rally's shoulders."

  "It's leaving Hoon that is the problem." Xen shrugged. "You guys have to have known it wouldn't last forever."

  Dominic shrugged. "Rally's stupid to care. His uncle gave him a big talk about it. Didn't work."

  "Well this isn't Auralia, despite some of the guests. One wife only. So sorry." Keith was looking across the garden at Soltio Jamie. "I'll bet that while he's here schmoozing a pack of women, he's got three wives back home and at least one hidden in the embassy."

  Xen wondered how many foreign agents were present at the party. He refused to count Rally as one, the man was just an idiot being used. He snorted in sudden amusement, picturing the cool, deadly secret agent Hoon grabbed by Rally and dragged off to a city official for a rushed marriage.

  "What's so funny?" Keith eye Xen suspiciously.

  "Sorry, I just had a vision of Rally eloping with Hoon, and what the parents would say."

  "Elope?" Rally had walked up behind him.

  Xen turned around, and shook his head. "Bad idea, Rally, really."