Young Warriors (Wine of the Gods Book 10)

by Pam Uphoff

  They both glared. he put the flask away.

  "Anyway, the God of Art's gallery is right here, and damned if I can figure out how to get in. I think I can detach it, drag it away to wherever you want it. That might keep him from finding it again . . . assuming he's not actually in it, right now."

  Deena was still glaring at him. "I don't see a thing." She shifted her weight.

  "Will you please stop kicking me." The Evil Xen had his eyes on her boots.

  Eden wished the girl soldier would kick him harder.

  "Apart from these seven future children, how many do you have?" The younger Janic wasn't going to be distracted by other duties.

  Eden was confused. The Evil Xen had been changing people, not making love to them.

  "Two or three."

  "Ah, nice to know you're keeping track." She kicked him again.

  Eden suppressed a sniff. Probably a Eunuch, hasn't got any children at all. Doesn't want to admit it. What other reason could he have, to not deny that he'd . . . Those buzzing voices, something about Rufi thinking about killing all the women? To prevent the birth of a baby . . . or seven . . . of Rebo's?

  She blinked away sudden tears. But even mine would have been a bastard. That wasn't a real wedding ceremony, was it?

  And why did it matter that the officer might think the babies were the Evil Xen's? Who is he, that he thinks he can protect us with his false claim? Why would he want to?

  "Speaking of which, sir, how is this going to affect the other situation?" The Evil Xen was changing the subject.

  Janic shrugged. "Depends on whether the king takes all of Gallery's property or not. I'm considering a recommendation that they 'lose' Rally Faloni's loan papers."

  "Or make them part of an allowance the King leaves Lady Eden?" Xen suggested.

  "Good thought. I suspect the king will want her married off quickly."

  Eden's stomach rebelled and she started backing away, gulping.

  "She's an untrained witch. Send her to Ash or Rip Crossing. You can go too, Deena."

  "What, to your harem?" Deena sounded sharp and sarcastic.

  "No. Witch school."

  Eden ran back to the guest room and cowered under the covers. Her world had just come crashing down. Where has Daddy gone? Plotting against the throne? He just wanted me to marry Rebo. Every noble with a daughter the right age is trying to achieve the same goal. What happened?

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Fall 1391

  Karista, Kingdom of the West

  Xen was ordered to track down the other participants in Rebo's little orgy. For better or worse, he'd recognized all of them.

  "I'm not going to arrest them, yet." Janic looked irritated. "But I want to know what they thought was going on." He eyed Xen dyspeptically. "And you will be more likely to understand their weird version of moral behavior, and where they either did, or didn't, stray from it."

  Xen opened his mouth to argue.

  "Yes, I know you're busy. I will send more people to watch the Oners. Yes, the two places in Karista and across the gate. We have your charms, and if you are irreplaceable, we're in deep shit. Now go find that Ricardo person."

  Of course, Nil and Dydit made him practice his pure wizardry as soon as he showed up. Vibrations. Once one grasped the concept, some incredibly small manipulations of matter became simple. I really ought to have kept up my genetic studies.

  And while he played at being just another student, he surveyed the other students. Ricardo and Eternal in one group. Heso and Zap being drilled in mental effects in another.

  Nil thumped his head. "Pay attention to your work, not theirs. Or are you on duty?" His eyes narrowed as he studied Xen.

  "Duty. I'm investigating what might be a magical rape, with political ramifications."

  Nil got a bit chilly and closed up when told about the orgy. And as they broke for dinner, Nil tasked his younger students about their behavior. "Using magic so that an innocent has sex with men she is fooled into thinking are her husband is . . . not amusing. It is not a road you want to start down. I grew up in a civilization that practiced casual cruelty through magic. I will not see another such built."

  Nil picked out the guilty from the reactions.

  Ricardo sneered. "Rebo's an old friend of mine. The bitch's father was laying spells on the girl, and Rebo suspected on himself. He paid me to set up an orgy, thinking we could break spells the crude way, you know? Worked like a charm, as far as I could tell."

  "He paid you. To set up a gang rape of the girl, because he suspected her father?"

  The other three looked horrified. Only Eternal stuck to his friend, and admitted that he'd had sex with Lady Eden. "Heso customized the marriage vows for them. The orgy was their wedding party."

  "Oh, well, a probably fake marriage, that excuses gang raping her, doesn't it?" The edge to Nil's voice had the spectators edging away. Heso and Zap managed to distance themselves a bit.

  Eternal shifted guiltily, then stiffened and stood straight, beside Ricardo's contemptuous ease.

  Nil waved his hand and turned away. "Think about it for the next year."

  Ricardo sneered. "That's it? Ha!"

  Xen walked away with Nil. Analyzing those quick wisps of spells. So faint—or hidden somehow—no one else had noticed. Ricardo and Eternal hadn't even flinched.

  Tearing down and rebuilding organs . . . but not to the same specifications.

  Oh. Wow.

  Once out of earshot he looked at the old wizard out of the corner of his eye. "Was that a sex change spell I saw you put on those two?"

  Nil shrugged. "You're getting very sensitive. And better at analysis. Go away."

  Xen picked up all the gossip of interest to witches.

  The six witches they'd taken from Art were a mix of young women. The two fifteen year olds were upset and worried about their families in a small town on the coast. They had no memory of Art at all, and the last two years . . . hadn't happened, for them.

  A triad of older witches had left with them, to get them home. And came back even more angry.

  Happy was irate. "That Art person just seduced a couple of perfectly nice women because he might have need of talented children later. The mothers are both happily married, with some memory gaps so small they never noticed. That was right after the comet in seventy-six. Old Gods know what he's been up to since then!"

  "Running around Cadent catching untrained witches, apparently." Elegant frowned. "All four of them have all gone back, despite our trying to recruit them." She eyed Xen disapprovingly. "Your grandfather has a great deal to answer for."

  Xen couldn't help but agree. Although if we wind up in a magical war with the Empire of the One, we may be glad of his wide scattering of magic genes. And the witches are probably Romeau's and Chance's daughters or granddaughters. Granddad doesn't have a witch gene. But I think I'll just keep my mouth shut.

  Xen shifted to Rip Crossing. Hunted down the women who'd been in the orgy. "The Farmer Girls" they called themselves, and two young witches. It wasn't hard—they were all back in the hotsprings, this time with Orion, Eldon, and Korbin. They were all shocked that Ricardo had taken money. Fairly indifferent to Eden's . . . adventure, as they put it. All six women had the faint glow of an early pregnancy about them. So he didn't resist very hard when they invited him in to even up the gender balance. And he found out that the wine of the gods was even more potent when added to a sulfur rich soak than when drunk. And facilitated the escape of his sex drive.

  I really hope I got that haploid spell on them in time. Not that it ought to matter. If bastards are going to start counting, Rebo's got older children.

  Surely Heso's parody doesn't count as valid wedding vows.

  Xen wrote it all up, shot the report to Janic and popped over to the Crossroads to check the gates. No change.

  Back in Karista, Rebo was getting a pass on his behavior "because he was bespelled." No one seemed to notice that the most innocent participant was taking the
most damage.

  Janic frowned at Xen. "Now that we have a moment's breather, I thought I'd mention, just a few things. Such as. Lieutenant, do you know who your superior officer is?"

  Xen opened his mouth, shut it at the colonel's glare.

  "Some fellow, name of Janic, wasn't it? And above him, there was that general, name starts with an 'R' what was it, do you recall Lieutenant Wolfson? And wasn't there something about a king and an oath, and . . . And noticeably lacking in that unusually short string of authority, is your Daddy. I do not care how good a friend of General Rufi's he is. I don't care how much hocus pocus he can do. I do not care if some people call him a god. When you swore that oath to the King and Kingdom, your father dropped right out of your chain of command. When you are on leave, you can obey your daddy to your heart's content. You do not do it in the middle of a major crisis, whether or not your superior officers are standing right there. Do you understand me, Lieutenant Wolfson?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "I did not know that you were from the same . . . group as those perverts who've been targeting the prince for years. I do not like it that you know all of those people who were at the orgy. Better than Prince Rebo does, apparently. Your method of minimalizing the risk of yet more royal bastards turns my stomach. And no, I don't like magic of any sort. I will admit to having trouble adapting to these corridors." He drummed his fingers on his desk. "You have, prior to this . . . mess . . . been an exemplary, if eccentric officer. Let's see if we can reduce the eccentricity and emphasize the exemplary officer aspects of your behavior."

  "Yes, sir?" How?

  "So. Kings University. College of Military Sciences." Janic flipped a sheaf of papers across the desk. "All winter, at least."

  Oh crap.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Late Fall 1391

  Fort Stag, Foothills Province

  "I think . . . " Garit paused to rub his aching head. "We ought to mix up our routine patrols, not get predictable."

  Colonel Trick looked amused. Shrugged.

  Marriage sure is mellowing. Not that the colonel was uptight, but . . .

  "Let's take a sweep down the Old Road. The area's still empty, with no rain yet. Bandits could circle the fort and not be seen by anyone. If they could carry enough water." The colonel looked back at Garit and grinned. "Lieutenant, organize enough water to get our horses down to the Fire Mountain Inn."

  Garit grinned and bounced out. Headache gone.

  "A hundred and fifty or sixty horses. They crossed the Old Road just out of the hills and headed into those thin woods along the first of the big ridges." The scout looked worried. "The tracks were made yesterday."

  Garit bit his lip, picturing the map. "So they're paralleling the old road where it bends and runs north-south?"

  "Ay, unless they turn either west for the Crossroads areas, which they'd have to be insane to do, or they could turn east and cross the ridge . . . "

  "Into Ash." Colonel Trick paled as he straightened and stared south. "What is the fastest way for us to get to Ash?"

  The scout winced. "The way the bandits are going, right now. There's a dip in the ridge that comes out right above their bridge and the mill on the Stink River. It's a hard three day ride, but the bandits don't know we're on their heels."

  Stress lines showed around the colonel's eyes. "So we might catch them before they get to Ash."

  The third day, they got within sight of the bandits.

  Unfortunately, the bandits were on horseback when they spotted them, and were spotted in return. The outlaws decided to flee rather than try to fight. The forest was thin enough for easy passage, and thick enough to make a good head count difficult. Garit had a nasty feeling the bandits outnumbered the fifty troops. By a good bit. Bet they haven't stopped for a head count either. Or maybe they have, and think that a village full of buildings and potential hostages is the best place to fight us. The bandits tried to lose them in the trees, but kept heading east. The troops pushed their tired horses but lost sight of the bandits late in the afternoon as they dropped down over the ridge.

  As soon as Garit topped the ridge, he spotted the raiders again. They were well down the hill, the leaders crossing the bridge by the mill and kicking their horses into a gallop. Out in the open, he could see the size of the gang. Well over a hundred men.

  I was hoping more of their horses were pack animals.

  The Colonel spat out a curse and kicked his tired horse into a gallop. They all followed, not keeping to any order. Right now the important thing was to get into the village before there was no one left to save. Before they organize enough to grab hostages, get into houses they can defend.

  Down in the village, a man in a wagon whistled shrilly and pointed, redirecting a lot of witchy attention. One witch bolted for the bell outside the Twin Inn and gave it three sharp rings.

  Women boiled out of homes, out of the Twin Inn. There were children in the street; they started running, probably drilled to go home. The lead rider reached the cross street at the same time as the children. As the rider drew back his sword to take a swing at a child, he jerked, fell limply. Garit spotted the red fletching of an arrow.

  The bandits split up. Up and down the main street, and another half a dozen chasing the wagons that had taken off up the opposite hill.

  And they were dropping. Fast. Archers. Or magic.

  He caught a brief glimpse of a rearing horse, black as night, then he was off the slope and thundering down on the village.

  Joker was the fastest horse in the troop, they passed the colonel, added half a length. A couple of troopers were right behind him as they hit the bridge at a dead run, right on the heels of the slowest bandits. This was no time to be a gentleman. Garit leaned and slashed at a horse's leg. It went down hard. Joker swerved, closed in on the next. The bandit realized he was in trouble and tried to turn . . . Joker clipped his haunches as he passed, staggering the horse. Garit heard the man's yell choke off as the trooper behind Garit dealt with him. Two bandits ahead of him collapsed off their mounts. One with at least four arrows in him. The other . . . hit the ground in two pieces. Garit spotted the colonel spurring north, and turned south . . .

  Bodies all over the ground. Loose horses spooked, bolted. Three men in the street with swords—The Mayor, Nil and Dydit. The man on the huge black horse. Witches in groups of three. All the bandits in sight were bleeding on the ground. Or smoking. Some were sporting arrows, others appeared unharmed—apart from just laying where they'd tumbled from their horses.

  Garit turned up the road beside the inn. The bandits that had followed the wagons up the hill littered the track. The wagons were halted. Women and children, just a couple of men. That hauler from Karista had everything under control.

  He told off a few troops to grab the injured bandits. Sent the rest to check the fallen on the main street.

  Then he trotted north far enough to spot the colonel and his lady. The trio of bodies leading almost to her feet was probably going to give the man nightmares for years.

  Garit huffed out a relieved breath and turned back to dismount by the mayor. His eyes mostly on the man on the black horse. All of Uncle Rufi's stories . . .

  The black stallion reared. Disappeared. Yep. Just like in the stories.

  "Well." He looked over at the other men. "Guess there really is a God of War."

  They just grinned.

  Garit detailed men to search for the few outlaws who had managed to flee. Others to disarm and bind the captured or injured bandits. Looked around. There really wasn't anything left to do. Except bury the dead. He didn't see a single fallen villager. Old Lady Gisele was tending to the very few wounded. Wounded villagers. She looked perfectly indifferent to the moans and screams of injured bandits.

  Garit spotted a large man striding down the hill. An older, taller and more muscular version of Xen. Trimmed beard streaked with gray. Uncle Rufi says the God of War is the father of the Boy with the Talking Horse. I'm going to have to reread al
l those stories . . .

  He looked back at the Mayor. "So. Where would you like us to bury this very large and dangerous bandit troop?"

  An old woman snorted. "I'll put the girls to work on a hole down to the south." She stalked off. The pale innkeeper put up his sword and offered to harness a horse to his cart. Garit thanked him and accepted the use of the cart. The Mayor mentioned that he had a photographic camera, if they wanted to try to identify any of the men. Garit perked up and assisted with the pictures as they started counting bodies. He spotted Obsidian unstringing a bow.

  And I'm going to be a whole lot more polite to witches.

  ***

  Tanner stepped over the final body and hugged Azure. He had a nasty feeling he was shaking harder than she was.

  "Well." Her voice was shaking and sliding up and down the scale. "I told you witches could defend themselves."

  He nodded, his jaw rubbing her temple. "And you did a fine job of it."

  She dropped her bow and clutched him harder. "It's just that I never actually had to, before." She was breathing hard, trying to control sobs.

  "They were very bad people. They've been raiding little villages like this and killing people all over the southern provinces. They just moved up the valley last spring, and turned into my problem. I wish we'd caught up to them a few miles earlier." And spared you from finding out what it felt like to kill a person. Three people. He glanced back at the closest body. At a distance where you were looking him in the eyes. And didn't freeze or falter. "My brave lady. I love you."

  He shifted enough to see Garit organizing search parties for the few who'd gotten away, and deputizing Sergeant Henkly to search the bodies, and haul them away for a burial away from the village proper. Good man, Garit. Dependable. Pity he wasn't the Crown Prince. Or Spear, for that matter. Taking after his Uncle Rufi.

  Azure pulled herself together. "I need to check Halo, and however much I really, really want to cling . . ."

  "I need to get back to work." He cupped her face and relaxed enough to smile when she met his gaze clear-eyed and in control again.