The God of Assassins (Wine of the Gods Book 11)

by Pam Uphoff

  "This is Grace Mercydaut. She's running away from home."

  Rustle eyed her. "You look old enough to not need to run."

  "With my mother, running is necessary, and possibly inadequate." Grace swallowed and tried to stand taller. "I'm a witch too."

  Rustle nodded. "So I see. Harry, Mercy landed in Ash, breathing fire, about half an hour ago. Is she going to come to you about this?"

  "She already has. But in case she returns, I think Grace had better hide . . . someplace where Mercy can't find her. Charliesville comes to mind."

  Rustle nodded. "Excellent idea. I'd recommend . . . in fact, Grace, will you come with me?"

  Grace gulped, and nodded.

  Xen looked at River. "So, yet another sister. Welcome to the family, or maybe, 'Hi! I'm your new brother!' But perhaps we ought to hide you two as well, until Art and Mercy calm down? Speaking of whom . . . we'd better warn Eden that her father's back. Somewhere."

  His dad nodded. "Do you two want to come with me, or stay with Grace for a few more days?"

  Grace was looking a bit panicky.

  River nodded toward the girl. "We'll stick with Grace. Not that I expect Art would actually recognize me."

  Simon tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. "But there's no point in taking chances. So, is this Charliesville through another corridor?"

  His dad grinned. "Nope. Trans-dimensional gate. Wait until we get over there, where the collective subconscious loosens its grip on me and I'll brief you on the all new history of the multiverse."

  Xen heaved a sigh of relief. The strays will find homes fast.

  Chapter Eleven

  Winter 1393, Day 9

  Karista, Kingdom of the West

  Staven had no problem finding Lord Asti Througus. On campus, in between classes.

  It was a nice day—for a winter on the coast. He'd worn casual civilian clothing and stuck the cuff of his jacket in his pocket to be less obvious at first glance. His guards had both been ordered to the outer perimeter, all to render himself as anonymous as possible.

  Asti, of course, knew him. And it was easy enough to lead the conversation into Asti's two year rotation. The man was very bright, but after a single sharp look, had gone along with the pretense that they were just chatting.

  "So these . . . mistresses . . . all had babies? And the men were being fooled, managed, whatever?"

  "Oh yes. It was a bit pathetic, the way they fell for the doe eyed 'Oh, I love yous' while their children looked a bit unlikely for some of their colorations. Sorry, I ought not gossip. Really, Hoon's older boy was brown eyed and brown haired, a bit lighter skinned than Xen, a bit darker skinned than Rally, but that pretty much describes Hoon. Her second . . . Well, hard to tell with a baby."

  "Hmm, probably not Woldson's—I get the impression that he doesn't like women."

  Asti snickered. "Oh, no he's not homosexual. He's completely indifferent to us fellows. He notices women, but gets really cautious around them. Drooled a bit over the colonel's daughter when we were doing the training round. But of course she was completely professional, and, well, the wariness never went completely away." Asti shrugged. "I never asked why. We—the whole group—went out drinking a few times. But Xen never drank all that much, certainly not to the point of spilling his guts." Asti shuddered. "Dominic, on the other hand . . . we heard all about his poor relationship with his father, and the women who'd dumped him for his younger brother every time rumors of him being a bastard resurfaced. And Rally and his money woes, and Lester and his demanding, controlling father and . . . Gah. Thank the Old Gods that stage of my life is over."

  "Heh. Being in the army, mine has rather dragged out. Garit didn't go all maudlin, did he?"

  "Nah. He watched what he drank, and told jokes." Asti sighed. "It was a great experience, even though I nearly got killed in my first fight. Garit and Xen saved my ass."

  "I've heard Wolfson's quite the swordsman."

  "Oh, unbelievably deadly, but you know, Garit's a better battlefield commander. He sees what's going on, on a wider scope. He . . . fights smart, where Xen just dives in. Good man to have on your side, but . . . well, a bit of a loner, for all his friendly chatter. He doesn't think in terms of ordering other people to go do things. He does them himself."

  "Huh. Funny, how I remember Garit as a teenager. I guess I haven't adjusted to thinking of him as a soldier. As competent."

  Asti grinned. "He was still a teenager at the end of the two years. I was the old man of the rotation. Six years older than Garit, five years older than Xen and Dominic. I think the rest of them were nineteen or twenty. "

  Staven nodded. "We got sent off, probably two years before we ought to have." He sighed. "Mostly to get us away from Rebo's bad influence."

  Asti winced. "I thought it was pushing you lot awfully hard. But I figured it was just that the royals were better trained and all that. Ready to go earlier than ordinary mortals."

  Staven shook his head. "Such a disillusionment, to find we have family squabbles and fights like real people. Don't spread that around though, it'll have people treating us like . . . people."

  "Hate to tell you this," Asti's mouth twisted wryly, "but you're the best stage play ever. Just remember, you have to get the villain before the final curtain can come down."

  "I'm planning on it."

  ***

  "If you have a moment, Colonel?" Staven winced. Two weeks ago I would have been polite, but expected him to drop everything for the Spear Heir. Now I'm just a junior officer, from a different department. On medical leave prior to . . . discharge.

  Colonel Janic didn't seem to have noticed any change in his status. "Delighted. I'm reading between the lines of reports, in between beating my head against the wall because I really, really hate having suspects I know, like and respect."

  "Mirk and Garit." Staven sighed and dropped into the chair in front of the colonel's desk. "It hurts to think that Garit knew most of the women involved in that mess, and has a wizard friend who knew all the men."

  Janic nodded. "Baylor Trehem's my third suspect. I've got him, and Garit and Mirk covered solid. Wolfson . . . damn it, I need his skills at the same time they make me horribly itchy. Two weeks ago I'd have told you that apart from the weird stuff, he was an outstanding officer and his only fault excessive independence. But now I have to consider that I've completely misjudged him. He's my fourth suspect, possibly in collusion with Garit. And I'm finding out all sorts of interesting things about him, that I never bothered to research before."

  "Oh?" Staven prodded him a bit.

  "His father is the Land Grant Holder of Section two, Foothills Province. And the sole owner of the Wolf Company, owns half the Bank of the West and is easily the richest man in the kingdom. My friendly lieutenant, has full signatory authority for the company, and voting proxy for the Land Grant Holders for two sections. But without tapping the company funds, he's got enough money of his own to do just about anything he pleases. And apparently he pleases to be nothing but a promising young officer."

  "Huh. And you're watching him?"

  Janic sighed. "Pity the poor fellows who try to shadow him. He . . . teleports places. Picks fights with Gods. Occasionally remembers I'm his immediate superior and ought to be consulted before he jumps in and does things. Staven, if he's turned into a coldblooded killer for profit or advancement we're totally sunk."

  "He's that good . . . or should I say, able?"

  "Yes. Good thing he really doesn't seem ambitious. As far as I can tell, he's honest, honorable, and loyal. I trust him, even when he terrifies me." He sighed. "I may not have reacted well when I noticed my daughter sneaking peeks his direction. And then he told her she needed to get her witch talents trained . . . she came close to assaulting a fellow officer."

  "Ah." Staven pictured the exceedingly well trained Deena punching Wolfson. Cleared his throat and changed the subject. "What can you tell me about the battle with the Oners, and this woman Hoon?"

  Jan
ic leaned back and sorted his thoughts. "She was a prostitute just over the border in Auralia. Garit's rotation group crossed the border for the usual. The whores all had deep tans and bleached hair, the lighting was low; it made telling the women apart difficult. At any rate, when six of the group, returned the next night, they invited that night's selection to try a more exclusive arrangement. First to Big Bay and then they moved to Karista in the winter of 1389. Hoon was Rally Feloni's mistress. We identified her as an agent of the Empire of the One a year later. She had, by that time, a baby born roughly nine months after the cross border bordello visit. Putatively Feloni's, but she named him Rufi 'to honor the great general' and then tried to persuade Garit the baby was his. She tried the same trick on Keith Rivolti. Wolfson thought the baby was actually his. She moved in on Rebo and you redirected him to Lady Eden, which delighted me, at the time."

  Staven nodded. "In fact it was stupid of me. I didn't realize her father was the God of Art, and had plans." He thought back . . . "Hoon and Art took an instant dislike to each other."

  "Yes. And they also saw each other regularly. One of my men it was like two poisonous snakes trying to decide whether to kill or fuck or maybe just trying to figure out which order they wanted to do it in. In any case, she had a second baby.

  "Wolfson was posted out at the Crossroads, keeping an eye on all those damned gates, one of which had been discovered from the other side by the Oners. They had a half dozen scientists and what looked like some guards camped out on the far side. They studied the gate, we argued about diplomacy . . . they sent what is apparently called an Action Team through. Wolfson spotted them immediately, and we managed to hustle Easterly into a position to get hired to drive them to Karista. Not that they talked much. They contacted Hoon, and the Oner observer that Damien Malder told you about."

  Janic scowled at the far wall. "Among all the mistakes we made was the assumption that we had plenty of time, that they just needed to see that we weren't allied with Earth . . . I made the assumption that other observers would do just fine out at the Crossroads, and Wolfson needed to be here, to watch Hoon and the Action Team.

  "Not that I didn't need him here. But I ought to have been running him out to the crossroads every few days. They had their attack force in position and ready to go, when Hoon and the Action Team went back to the Crossroads. About the only thing I did right was send Wolfson—with Wacolm, Parsons, Easterly, and Deena—out to observe them, and possibly spy on them. When the Oner troops started coming through the gate, they yelled for help, and dived in to try and hold them there. All of Wolfson's magical community showed up, and without them we'd have been in trouble. Most of our casualties happened before the wizards drained the power from their lasers, and before the witches showed up to raise shields.

  "Wolfson and his sister jumped in and managed to close the gate before the Oner's . . . heavier equipment crossed over. Then, the battle clearly lost, instead of surrendering, the officers killed their own soldiers then committed suicide."

  Staven nodded. He'd heard it all before, from various people. "Not, I suppose, very relevant to this assassination. What happened to Hoon?"

  "One of the officers killed her. The Ash people took her children, adopted them."

  "So . . . these other five women? They are really Auralian?"

  "Yes, and as far as we could tell, ignorant of Hoon's antecedents. They ran the house as an exclusive men's club, right under their supposed masters' noses."

  "For money?"

  "And information: pending government actions, finances, trading and military. Rufi was . . . irate. But they decided that knowing about them was more valuable than shutting them down."

  Staven nodded. "Sounds like a mess. And since the battle?"

  "No sign that they had any contact with the Post Head, nor anyone else. They just ran their Cathouse and . . . occasionally went off to that 'Edge of the World' place and danced and charmed a few well placed men." Janic huffed angrily. "I think the king liked having the dirt on some people, in case he needed to do some arm twisting later."

  Staven made a noncommittal sound. "I've seen enough political wheeling and dealing to appreciate the value of a really embarrassing lever, but still . . . "

  "I follow orders. But you're the one living with the results."

  "Yes. So, Wolfson was injured, and just returned from medical leave . . . "

  "Three months ago. Lefty's grabbed him for Magic Central, of course."

  "Of course, and now he's in the middle of the investigation, and he's a suspect. I wonder how much he knows about the succession? Hell, I don't really know much about how it's evolved from the original compact."

  ***

  Staven took the apprehensive Markly back with him to the University.

  He'd been on campus often enough—the College of Military Sciences was here. Most of the officers in the army took classes whenever they were stationed in Karista.

  So he knew the layout of the library and found a copy of the charter and books about the provisions for inheritance and court cases that affected the definition of legitimate birth and legal marriage and . . . He stopped himself at six books and found an empty table to spread out on. He was deep into muttering things for Markly to write down, and cross checking between different books when he became aware that someone had stomped up and was glaring at him.

  He looked up.

  "Hogging all the references is discouraged, you know." Arrogant, pissed, trying to loom. Bright blonde hair, but a softer chin and nose . . .

  Staven straightened and eyed the young man. "Do I know you?"

  "I am Lord Thomu Iron." Standing as tall as possible. Leaning into Staven's space.

  "Pleased to meet you. Although I probably did when we were younger. I'm Prince Staven Negue. Which book are you looking for?" Staven lounged back to show how unworried he was. Maybe I oughtn't have dodged the guard, today.

  Council President Fidel Iron's younger son. Number twenty-eight on the inclusive list, number nine on the all-male-descent-younger-than-Rolo list. Typical arrogant noble, by his behavior.

  "Rasputin's On the Female Side." The man's forward leaning aggression had retreated, and his weight had shifted back to his heels. "I . . . someone said . . ."

  "That between your father's descent from Heso the Iron Man and your mother's from King Haro, you were a potential heir. I've got you as eighteenth from the top, counting all male line contenders, ninth of those younger than Rolo. Bringing in the female lines," he cocked his head at the Rasputin volume, "Well, still with the younger group, you've only dropped down to sixteen. If you're feeling ambitious, you're better off hoping the Council will go for straight line male, and only consider men under forty-two."

  Thomu eyed him. "Why are you researching it? You're out of it."

  "I'm not out of it until I've hanged the man who killed my brother." Staven showed his teeth. "And you'd best be glad you're down at nine to twenty-eighth on the list of men with a motive. You would have to murder an awful lot of people to be a contender."

  Thomu drew himself up and elevated his nose. "I will take your injury and grief into consideration, and not challenge you to a duel over that insult."

  Staven shook his head. "Not to mention it's illegal."

  "Your injury has obviously shaken your courage." Lord Thomu spun on his heel and marched off.

  "Huh." Markly appeared be shoving something into his pocket . . . surely the boy hadn't been planning on defending Staven with some tiny blade.

  Staven flipped through the copy of the Charter . . . the list of the original Land Grant Holders caught his eye. Edward and Jek Negue were at the head of the list, then Wolf Old. Down a bit Gisele Health, and toward the bottom, Harry Traveler. I never thought about Gods and Goddesses and magic. Witches and Wizards were characters in Uncle Rufi's tall tales. How did I get this far, oblivious? And what will I do about magical criminals? Angry goddesses? Ambitious gods?

  Staven looked down at his list. Shook his head. "
If Thomu had been ambitious for the Spear, he'd have stayed in the army. For the crown, he'd have to kill Mirk and the baby, Garit, Dustu, Edvin, Elrich, and Franki. With a good chance that the Council would instead pick one of the princesses' boys."

  "Maybe he's really stupid." Markly scowled over his shoulder in the direction of the departed lord. "I've seen his brother. Farit's not fit enough to be a spear."

  Staven thought about the elaborate setup at the Edge of the World. "And Thomu hasn't got the resources, the organizational experience. And I doubt he knows any criminals. His father could have done it, but Lord Fidel would realize that he couldn't vault past all the rest of King Haro's descendants. Beside, Lord Fidel is nearly as powerful as the king."

  Chapter Twelve

  Winter 1393, day 8

  Havwee and Farofo, Kingdom of the West

  "You didn't want to search every cathouse in the south? Looks like you've got your wish." Deena sighed, looking through the report. "Only four. So far."

  "There's got t'be more magic users in t'Army than t'pair of us and Xen." Easterly grumbled. "And Xen's so busy that we're going t'have t'travel the old fashioned way t'examine all t'possible sightings."

  "There's Lovett, but he won't even admit that magic exists, let alone that he's a mage himself. So, no training at all. And Xen says the obnoxious Lieutenant Lord Dominic is another." Deena wrinkled her nose.

  "Heh. As soon as we have time t'breathe, we'll have to get them trained. What have you got?"

  "Colonel Kester circulated pictures of three of the Auralian women. And queries about new bordellos. We've got possible ID from two places in Havwee, one in Farofo, and a new bordello in a remote place east of Farofo, in the Southern Divide."

  "How far? Can we spare t'time?"

  "It's going to be time consuming." Deena smirked. "And I suspect that you are going to become well acquainted with brothels."