Cascades (Wine of the Gods Book 24)

by Pam Uphoff

  Garit took in the people there.

  What's Q doing here? She back helping her brother, dammit . . . I shouldn't have even bothered with the icicle. He unlocked his jaw and nodded in as friendly as fashion as he could manage. "Colonel Lebonift still in Asia?"

  "Yep." Captain Easterly was a familiar face, a placid bovine expression that hid a sharp mind. "His last orders were along t'lines of 'And do something about t'bandits using t'corridors.' Easier said than done."

  "Yes, their ability to be a thousand miles away from the site of the raid so quickly is half the problem. The other is that . . . white witch. We can't find invisible bandits." Garit huffed a bit and thumped down in a chair.

  "So, anybody have any ideas?" Easterly looked around the table.

  Xen sighed. "Corridors are either wide-open or have a magical lock. If we put a lock on these public corridors, we'd have to have a magic user at every to let the legitimate travelers through."

  "I think we could make charms that would do it, but then these raiders would just need to steal one and nothing would have changed." Quicksilver glanced up the table, not even smiling at him.

  Of course not, sexless cold bitch. Garit mentally kicked himself. What did you expect? Hugs and kisses in HQ?

  "I just got my new orders. I'm Gold Rush bound with a double company to reinforce the current troops. I'll be working with General Trick while you magicians operate more independently."

  The other soldiers all nodded.

  Xen grinned. "It'll be nice to have an officer around that we know. And who believes in magic."

  Jeff Lovett snorted. "We need to talk to all the victims, and analyze what we can of their routes in and out of various places. Plain old police work, which no doubt has already been done piecemeal. We need to see all of it. Especially any descriptions. Are these all one gang? Two? Fifteen? How many actual people are we looking at here? Do they tend toward hitting at certain times of the day or night? How do they choose their victims? Do any of the victims have anything in common?"

  "Dear God, a wizard with common sense." Fuchsia raised an amused eyebrow.

  "City Guard experience." Jeff shrugged. "Most criminals are stupid. They find something that works, and their next crime will be about the same."

  Easterly nodded. "Right. That's one thing. Second, lots of spotters and better, faster notification," he nodded to Yellow. "The King is sending three Special Magistrates, probably Klyn Emmien, Merc Gnome, and Nelson Baugh out to probably Lucky Strike, Southern Hell, and Two Trees with a swarm of baby lawyers to clear the backlog of lawsuits and petitions and unclog the legal situation so violence won't be the only way to actually accomplish something."

  Garit nodded. "That should help stop a lot of small raids based on personal feuds. These organized big-group raids are our baby."

  Easterly drummed his fingers. "Fuchsia, Dominic, how's the One World coming along?"

  "No problems so far." Fuchsia smirked. "The skin deep essential transform to the One World X has passed every test so far. Their new screening isn't doing them a bit of good."

  "And we haven't a clue about the students, and we don't contact each other on that side at all." Dominic smiled. "The computers, hell, the kitchens and laundries are marvelous. Wish we could get some sense through their skulls. They'd be great trading partners."

  "All right. I'll leave you two here—or more specifically, there. Colonel Wacolm will know how t'find us if you need help. Don't hesitate t'yell, especially if it involves a need t'shift a gate quickly. Don't shut down t'corridors unless they are right on your tails and already through t'gate. Everyone else, pack up. We get t'all expense paid trip t'Gold Rush Territory."

  Easterly looked at Q and Xen. "Do you two have anything special out there?"

  Q nodded. "I've got an office, apartment and stable in Southern Hell, with a corridor to my house in the Crossroads. Like-wise a corridor to Desolation twenty-two. Would you like a corridor of your own? I could give you a direct one step, here to Southern Hell. And Garit, if you need some corridors, unknown to the public, let me know, I can string them out pretty fast."

  Garit nodded. "From Fort Gold there's a corridor directly to Southern Hell, and from there they fan out. I'll take a look around first, to see where I might want some more." And think about whether you are helping me, or watching me.

  ***

  Professor Dunbroto eyed the nine students and sighed. "I sympathize with your wishes to not interrupt your studies, but this is an excellent opportunity for all of you. The King is sending some Special Magistrates to the New Lands to sort out the legal mess there. Ordinarily students wouldn't get an opportunity to work directly with a Magistrate. In fact, if you are realistic, you realize that you'd be lucky if, upon graduation, you were hired to clerk for one of their senior staff. But the senior staff is bogged down personally with family and professionally they're leaping to temporarily fill the Magistrates bench. My advise is to seize this opportunity."

  Norm Halfac glanced sideways at Will. "If I may ask, if this is such a fine opportunity, why is someone with a bare year of law school being offered a position?"

  "Mr. Michaelson, during part of his Lord's Two Year Rotation clerked for a circuit judge out there, and was very highly recommended as understanding the land, the people, and the problem—and apparently a good bit of the solution as well."

  Will squirmed. "Er, I mostly dealt with civil complaints not major criminal indictments. Those the judge has to handle. I just learned how to clear the brush so he could deal with the trees."

  "Which is exactly what the magistrates need."

  Chapter Seven

  Late Winter 1398

  Southern Hell, Southern Divide Territory

  " . . . And you are invited to a strategy meeting with Marshall Trehem, General Trick and some new officers, including what is rumored to be the King's Magic Corps." Miss Henso gave Trip a slight kick and he decided to not lie down right where he was most likely to trip her.

  Vinz finished signing the stack of papers. "Magic Corps?"

  Mogan sidled in through the door. "Rumor has it they may shut down the corridors. Can I tag along?"

  Vinz eyed him.

  "No, I don't think your Inky witch is a member of the Magic Corps. But if you don't go, how will you ever find out? Honestly, Vinz, I didn't expect you to be bashful."

  Miss Henso's eyebrows lowered. "Your Inky witch?"

  Mogan looked innocent. "Oh didn't you mention the love of your life to Miss Henso?" he sauntered off, leaving Vinz under the hot glare of Miss Henso's magnifier.

  "What a sense of humor that man has." Vinz scooted out from behind his desk, and around the corner, ready to make a run for it, and sprawled over Trip.

  "My doctor tells me that heat stroke and dehydration can cause hallucinations." Miss Henso said. "I consulted him about any long term problems you might have after nearly dying."

  "I wasn't that dehydrated. I walked into Rip Crossing under my own power. I didn't have any hallucinations either before or after. Well, apart from the talking goats." Vinz frowned. "How did we get on the subject of hallucinations?"

  "Mr. Leon may think that you 'seeing' a beautiful witch with six daughters is amusing, but I am seriously worried about you, Mr. Laughlier. I . . . I hadn't heard about the goats."

  "Inky was not a hallucination. She was before I dehydrated. And there were only three daughters. Wait, Mogan told you about her? Didn't he tell you he saw her?"

  Her gaze softened. "Oh, Mr. Laughlier. He wasn't there with you. You were all alone in the desert."

  "I sent him to investigate her. Remember the letter I sent you? He has seen her." Vinz closed his eyes for a moment. Heaved a sigh. "First I have a meeting to attend. Then I'm going to pound Mogan." And kick myself for mentioning the goats. He picked himself up and marched out, trying to ignore the gentle concern on the face of the woman he'd always thought of as a fierce and unemotional dragon.

  Mogan had two horses saddled and waiting.
r />   Vinz mounted then poked a finger at Mogan. "You are dead meat, getting me in trouble with Miss Henso." He reined around and headed for Out Street. "She thinks I hallucinated the whole thing." The horse picked up his nerves and pranced all the way, not even breaking stride for the corridor. He wondered vaguely what horses thought of the corridors, or if they even did.

  There was a crowd in the bailey, the new troops arriving, no doubt. They swung around the corner and left their horses tied out of the way. Vinz had known Tanner Trick since he'd taken over command in Farofo six years previously. He'd been transferred to Fort Gold last year, as the Marshall's job outgrew mere military needs.

  "Vinz, good to see you again. This is Colonel Garit Negue who's adding his two companies to the command, and Captain Easterly of the King's Own, here to study the use of the corridors by the raiders."

  Gah! A bloody damned Prince. He barely managed to not say it out loud.

  Tanner snickered. The captain went from looking like a farm boy in uniform to looking like a stupid farm boy dressed for a costume ball.

  Vinz shook the prince's hand. "Pleased to meet you. My chief of security, Mogan Leon."

  "Mr. Laughlier, Mr. Leon." He couldn't tell what the prince was thinking, he was very controlled and giving no clues. There were five other men, well, people, in the King's Own slightly-different-from-regular uniform on the porch, but they hung back with the look of people who were hoping to duck a boring meeting. The two women . . . witches? Did they know Inky?

  Mogan nodded toward a tall thin girl in black trousers and white shirt. "Quail Oldham, the engineer." His voice was low.

  "That little girl owns an engineering firm?"

  The prince glanced at Tanner. "Ah, one of your fellow skeptics."

  "Yes, Old Gods! It was such a relief to meet someone who doesn't believe in hocus pocus."

  Love spells. Healing potions. Oh crap. "The causeway was certainly impressive." Vinz said. "Mind you I didn't see it under construction. I was surprised it went up so fast."

  Mogan was working to keep a straight face.

  "Come in, let's get this meeting under way." General Trick led the way. Prince Garit conjured two captains and three lieutenants with the crook of a finger. Captain Easterly had to resort to a firm hand gesture to budge his staff.

  More introductions circled. Vinz eyed the tall captain. He looked vaguely familiar.

  "Oh, yes we met briefly a year or so ago." The tall man looked thoughtfully at Vinz. "Laughlier. That's one of the Auralia and Verona border names, isn't it? And by your looks from Cadent?"

  Vinz set his teeth nastily. He hadn't been called a goat for so long . . .

  The girl, whom everyone was calling Q looked around. "Hunting relatives, Xen?"

  "Most likely." He smiled faintly. "For a minute I thought Uncle Havi had shaved off his mustachios."

  She studied Vinz and nodded. "Yeah."

  The Marshall walked in then. Thumped his nephew of some degree on the shoulder, and nodded at Tanner.

  "General, go ahead."

  Tanner sat back and eyed them all. "The main problem we're facing right now is that all these bandits and raiders don't seem to be connected to each other. They don't coordinate, which in some ways is good. But it looks like our job isn't to hunt down a group of raiders, but rather at least six. And all the while dealing with the part timers—miners who will rob, given an opportunity. And solo outlaws, of whom we also have plenty."

  The general had voluminous notes. "Now, in the towns, we've had some bank robberies. Lots of descriptions, mostly conflicting, but there seems to be two groups involved. Then we have the raids on the big mining camps." He nodded at Mogan. "Again the descriptions vary, but they can be grouped enough that we think we've got four distinct gangs. A lot of single miners get hit too, but the raiders tend to not leave witnesses. Our scouts are learning hoof prints, and we think we're seeing some of the bigger raiders, and also some single bandits or pairs."

  "Near towns we've had a spate of robberies, miners mugged practically out in the open." He looked over at Garit. "They hit the miners between their camps and the towns, and you're going to mostly end up patrolling the ten miles out from the towns to the mining areas. I'll be shifting a bunch of my people, so we can cover more towns and have larger patrols. The last time my lads caught a gang, they were outnumbered and had to retreat. The miner was properly grateful, but I'd have preferred a body or two, warm by preference. That's going to be one of your priorities."

  "Crime in town is now each town's local responsibility, so the drunk miners that get rolled aren't our problem."

  The Marshall snorted. "It's mine now, and it's a mess. But most of the miners survive, and some even put some money in the bank before they lose the rest of it."

  Garit nodded. "The King asked me to tell you to expect the first magistrate next week, and the other two shortly after."

  "Good. I feel like I'm sitting on an ant mound pretending everything is fine and wondering how badly they sting." He ran his eyes from Captain Easterly down the row of King's Own and back. "So, what can you do about the corridors. We know damn good and well from experience that we can be talking to a mining camp in Two Tree that's been hit, and that by then the raiders will be spending gold bars in Havwee." The Marshall drummed his fingers. "So I think I'll be working more closely with your group, Captain Easterly, while Garit will be doing more standard military patrols."

  Captain Easterly nodded. "We'll be wanting to go over these reports in detail. And if any of your people have any questions as to what we can or can't do to or with corridors, Q is the expert on the matter. Send them to her.

  "We will check with you before doing anything long term to the corridors. Longer than, say, a day. We realized that not just the economy depends on them, but that you're importing the basics. On the short term, if say, there's a bank robbery, we might close the corridors of that town immediately, for perhaps a day to trap the robbers, or at least force them to leave town on horseback."

  The Marshall nodded.

  "I've sent out a request for some low level magic users, young witches, by-and-large, who can be stationed by the corridors and shut them quickly." Easterly glanced up at the Marshall. "From what I've heard about the Boom Towns, they may need a guard. Let me know which corridors you think need them first, and I'll see how many we can cover."

  Captain Wolfson leaned forward. "We're looking at a lot of gold, here. Do you have any indication of where it is going? Is it staying in the Kingdom or going to Verona or Auralia?"

  "The middleman we put out of business three years ago was circulating the gold locally. Rufi has passed on to me reports of both the Veronian government, some private Veronians, and the Organtes all having untraceable sources of gold. The combined estimated amounts fit reasonably well with the amounts that are stolen here."

  Captain Easterly looked at Wolfson. "Hors de Combat?"

  "Could be. The two Veronians were among the survivors. I don't think they kept up any government contacts, they may be the private bit. I've heard bits and pieces about the Veronians training magicians. Some town not too far from the border. I could check there for corridors, and see if there's any gold moving through the town."

  Prince Garit's eyes narrowed and he nodded. "Do that. Close any corridors you find. Whether it traps their raiders here or there doesn't matter. Either will make the situation easier for us to handle."

  The little girl engineer drummed her fingers. "Xen, did you, or anyone, give the Edge of the World a really good looking over? Ricardo worked out of there, and he had some escape routes." Wolfson shook his head. "I'll give it a detailed inspection, then. Umm, covertly, so the raiders won't be warned off if they've got one they're using."

  Tanner grimaced. "So you think the opposition can make them."

  Easterly nodded. "At one time they could. We're talking about the group that carried out Prince Rebo's assassination. We've whittled the group back twice now, but we know of two witches who esca
ped. We don't know if either can create corridors. I fight with some of our witches left them stranded on an island in the south Ciffic, a few months ago. We can go collect them, if we need to."

  The meeting broke up then. Vinz leaned back in his chair, pondering. He caught Tanner's eye. "Magic everywhere. Ugg."

  "Yes. At least it's the engineering kind, they aren't babbling about love potions and charms."

  Mogan snickered. "You should go ask that 'Yellow' if she knows a witch named Inky."

  "Shut up Mogan."

  Tanner cleared his throat. "Would that be my wife's sister, Inky Trumpsdaut?"

  Vinz grabbed the table hastily as his chair tipped too far. "She's Lady Azure's sister?" He blinked in surprise. The General's Lady was so very elegant, the perfect wife for an up and coming officer. She'd practically run the military wives' organizations in Farofo when she was there, and any up and coming young officer would kill for an invitation to one of her parties. She was a witch? "Err, yes. Inky Trumpsdaut. Met her six months ago, out in the middle of nowhere."

  Tanner nodded. "Lord Hell thought the sisters needed a bit more distance from the loose morals of Karista high society."

  Vinz thought back on the herd of little girls and 'too little too late' rather came to mind.

  One of the King's Own came back in, shiny new notebooks in hand. "General, where would it be convenient for me to work with your notes?"

  Vinz flapped a hand in farewell and headed out.

  Chapter Eight

  Early Spring 1398

  Empire of Verona

  Xen took the wagon with Hornet and Jack harnessed and Pyrite loose. And dogs. Pig and Barracuda. He dressed like a Traveler and took corridors to Southern Hell, and the pitiful excuse of a road north from there. Just till he was out of sight of the town. Then he turned east and traveled across country. He stayed well north of the swampy lake area, stuck to the desert and rocks.

  The occasional cliffs were no problem. He simply grabbed a bubble and created a corridor. Or just threw a corridor a eighty or a hundred miles, to shorten the trip. Once he was past the border with Verona, he shortened his short cuts.