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

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The God of Assassins (Wine of the Gods Book 11) Page 22

by Pam Uphoff


  Colonel Janic knocked on the doorframe as he entered. "We didn't get the information we hoped for, but you were so effective, I think I'll have you back this evening to assist with the rest of your buddies."

  Xen moaned piteously. "Can't I go back to shoveling out stalls? And then sleep, and then cater to these manic scholars from the University that are suddenly so fascinated by the Gates. Did someone tell them it was summer on the other side or something?"

  Easterly snorted. "Your sister has taken over the scholars. Nick's shoveling the stalls, and Janic's got two extra people watching the gates, flirting with Flare, and eating her excellent cooking."

  "Poachers! She's my cook, they can't have her unless she says so."

  Janic scowled at him. "Stop complaining. We need to find that damned murderous pervert, probably in the same place those two women ran to. So we need to work over your buddies."

  Xen straightened up and got his mind back on business. "I wonder where all those women were between the Crossroads battle and the assassination? When did they leave here? Do we have any information, yet?"

  "The two witches who are still at large were at the Edge of the World from the time it opened for business, along with the other two. The Auralian mistresses all came and went. We've got them well wrapped up." Janic drummed his fingers. "Go get some breakfast. Then come backl so you can defuse any more traps on possible information sources, without bringing scary people to my office. That wasn't really The actual Tyrant Wizard Nihility of Scoone and one of his Black Goats, was it?"

  Xen snickered. "Well, yes, but Nil has mellowed with age. Now he's just, umm, The Master Wizard. And Granddad doesn't hardly ever change into a goat anymore."

  "Except t'impress really stubborn students." Easterly said. "Dydit is your Grandfather? Swear to . . . Is there anyone else I should know about?"

  Janic snorted. "Why don't you write out a Directory of Magic? I can circulate it on a 'need-to-know' basis, so people dealing with all these gods, witches and wizards will have a clue. Now go away, come back this evening."

  Deena grabbed him, hauled him into an empty room used for questioning less important people than Rally and pinned him to the wall again. "Your Grandfather is one of the Black Goats? Has he ever been near Cadent?"

  "He's a wizard, no witch genes. He's not a relative of yours. If your mother was from Cadent, she might have been one of Romeau's children. The gods have the witch genes and pass it to their daughters."

  "Who is this Romeau?"

  "In the battle at the Crossroads, the fellow on the bright chestnut stallion that nipped out and grabbed Kipp and the kid? Him. The God of Love. The real one, not the Goat that was mistaken for him."

  Deena glared at him. "She ran away from the temple when she was fifteen. Some dirty old man in Farofo raped her and died of a heart attack while doing so. She was actually charged with murder. 'Magic' they said. Dad acted as her attorney, and freed her. They married. I was born a solid year after the heart attack, thank you very much."

  She paused for a breath, and Xen jumped in. "What happened to her?"

  "Struck by lightning, while dancing naked on a hill top. If you laugh I will kill you."

  Xen resisted an impulse to put his arms around her. "Probably started up all the rumors again. No wonder you and your father are so itchy about magic. And yes, deflowering a witch is dangerous if she hasn't been trained to control her magic, and especially if there's any coercion, panic, or anger. Go find an older high society gossip, and ask what happened to Lady Rustle Neverdaut the winter her grandfather, General Rufi Negue tried to give her a formal 'coming out' season. I was born nine and a half months later."

  He shrugged away from the wall. "It's almost late enough for fresh pastries at the Tavern, you guys want to come?"

  "Only if you two promise to stop alternately hating and loving each other." Wacolm said.

  "Ah, I think they're cute." Lily snickered.

  Xen edged away as Deena growled . . . "Right this way, best cook in the Crossroads." He figured he could speed up a bubble and get some sleep in somewhere . . .

  ***

  Which he was glad he managed. The spells were definitely vicious.

  Dominic, Onray, and Philip were all appropriately shocked, and disbelieving until Xen had fought off their spells and left them blinking and unblindfolded to remember their mistresses being interested in specific things, leading them to talk about them.

  Janic's people took reams of notes and left Janic cussing about how many security procedures were going to have to be changed.

  Dominic had both the Witch X and Mage Y, and needed magic lessons. And was sound enough to be demanding to be allowed to fetch his daughter. "The other kids too. And what about Baylor and Lester?"

  "Their respective fathers have descended upon them and dragged them home in disgrace. We'll go talk to them shortly." Janic growled through his teeth. "With Xen keeping them honest. And alive. We have the children in hand, and will return them to their fathers . . . soon."

  Onray was alarmed at how much he'd told Skori about their accounting procedures. Janic looked thoughtful.

  Phillip had relatively fewer spells on him and fumbled around uncertainly about his pillow talk.

  "He's so completely self centered he honestly doesn't remember blathering away about who knows what." Janic growled. "Thank the Gods he's just a junior officer, dealing mostly with logistics."

  Asti had only the slight inattention spells on him, and was embarrassed to admit that none of the women had ever shown any inclination to seduce him.

  "Well, nice to see there's one gentleman in the group. How about Garit?" Xen said. "Should I check him? Has he gone back to Fort Stag?"

  "He wasn't around them as much." Janic tapped his fingers anxiously. "And he's staying here until the funeral."

  "Oh, of course. And I was protecting him from the various Auralian charms regularly. I doubt Hoon dared, and frankly was probably just relying on the old fashioned methods for now."

  Wacolm got his mouth shut. "Prince Garit was around them?"

  The whole group looked appalled. Janic nodded. "He was in that two year rotation. And took the fateful trip across the border to the 'River of Sand' dinner club. She tried to convince him that her son was his."

  "Hence the name, no doubt." Wacolm wrinkled his nose. "So, what's going to happen to the children?"

  "Dominic was demanding we hand over his daughter." Xen bit his lip. "So I suppose it'll depend on what we do with the men."

  ***

  A quick double check of Garit, "You never told me those women were a security breach!" The prince yelped indignantly.

  "You were therefore so sweet and innocent to Hoon's potential mind reading." Xen explained. "How could her operations be in danger if you knew nothing?"

  "How about you, though?"

  "Oh, I kept my response to her occasional attempts to bespell me at an untrained instinctive level."

  "Don't give me that innocent look. I've been living half a day's ride from your home village, and that place is flat out scary." Garit grinned. "Funny how the leaked version of the 'witches are promiscuous' rumors leave out the part about them being in charge."

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Winter 1393, Day 16

  Karista, Kingdom of the West

  Staven had never actually been inside Lord Hell's mansion.

  Nor been the sole focus of so much female attention. He started counting. Quit at ten gorgeous young women. He didn't even try to count the toddlers teetering about unsteadily at high speed.

  Even more unsettling was the scrutiny of the six witches who were learning healing.

  "We know all about that­ wine and regrowing testicles. Limbs are a whole different matter."

  "Testicles?" Staven fought down an impulse to flee. He was surrounded, anyway. "Oh, you mean like that nasty trick doping geldings? Very funny, I'm sure, for immature teenagers."

  Giggles and glances exchanged. One dark haired beauty smi
led alluringly. "The wine also contains an aphrodisiac that has to be experienced to be believed."

  The strawberry blonde on the other side rubbed up against him. "Would you like to give it a try?"

  "No thank you." Staven looked around for a place to ease away to. Women everywhere he looked.

  The one with fluffy brown hair snorted. "What we actually want—that is the more intelligent of us want—is to examine the amputation site for signs of stem cell conversion and possible embryonic organization."

  "Embryonic?" Staven hauled his attention away from the breasts pressed against his back. "Do you think . . . " He looked dubiously at his empty coat sleeve, stuffed in a pocket.

  "It's logical that if anything is going to happen it will be in the same sequence as the original growth of an arm."

  A slight scuffle behind him, and a quietly hissed, "Get off him, Beige. He's mine."

  Saved! Staven turned quickly to slide his left arm around Mihaela's shoulders and pull her up beside him.

  The other witches eased back maybe an inch. C'mon brain, you can still work!

  "Staven?" Mihaela sounded firm, almost professional. "May we examine your stump?"

  Do I want to face the truth, with an audience? At least I'll be distracted . . .

  "Certainly, why not. I love being embarrassed in public."

  Multiple snickers. And lots of hands going for his buttons. Mihaela slapped one that tried to unbuckle his belt.

  The fluffy-haired one brought a bright light . . . or rather a glowing ball of nothing that she sat on the table while they scrutinized whatever was down there.

  Maybe I ought to check in the mirror.

  "Oh, there's already a good start."

  "I think there's cartilage forming, it'll turn to bone later."

  "Interesting, how it's accommodating to the mature end of the joint."

  A sigh from the fluffy. "I can't see it at all."

  "You need to have a baby, Quicksilver. That's when the body awareness sets in. This can't be seen with logic."

  Staven could see Mihaela blushing out of the corner of his eye.

  "What are those little bumps?"

  "I think those are finger buds. Four in a row, then one a bit separate."

  "But they're so little. Is the arm going to grow normally?"

  Staven turned his head and leaned it on Mihaela's shoulder. "I don't know if I want to faint or vomit."

  She ran fingers through his hair. "Everybody at school says things used to be so predictable, before all these weird magic people started showing up. I suppose it would almost be comforting, to be able to say 'It's done, now I'll get used to it.' You wouldn't have to wonder what might happen, for the next . . . well, I don't know how long before we get to 'done' anymore."

  He nodded. "It's hard to keep hoping, to put off just dealing with it."

  "Yes. And now I think we'll wrap you back up carefully, so you don't bump or bruise anything that is developing."

  He survived lunch.

  Tracked down Solstice. Three teenage boys with a strong resemblance to Lord Hell were hanging over the fence laughing and whooping.

  Solstice was . . . busy.

  The black haired sister stomped over to glare at the boys. "Oh, good grief! Did you give them all wine? Mother is going to kill you if all her pretty mares have pinto foals!"

  The witches all gang scolded the boys—younger brothers?—while Staven found where they'd put his tack and hauled a prancing Solstice away from half a dozen mares. Mihaela helped him saddle the horse, and the old boy stopped prancing long enough for them to mount.

  Mihaela was giggling a bit. "The triplets are, as you said, immature teenagers. But I can just see Lady Trump deciding that since she has some pintos, pintos were going to be the next rage." She sighed. "And I wrote down a list of the women Rebo is rumored to have seduced. More unmarried than married."

  "So, I need to consider angry fathers and brothers, as well as husbands."

  Her arm tightened around his ribs. "Princess Marie was one of them."

  "Oh . . . Mirk's wife."

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Winter 1393, day 16

  Crossroads, Section 1, Foothills Province

  "And you actually think this will work?" Easterly looked in the mirror and touched his face. Quicksilver swore he looked, to an experienced witch, just like Ricardo imitating Xen. Except for being an inch shorter and fifty pounds heavier. It's all muscle. I'm not fat. But Ricardo is two inches shorter than me and whole lot thinner. Can I actually fool someone who touches me? What if she expect me to . . . romance her?

  He rubbed the backs of his hands. "Even my skin feels funny. Damn it, why couldn't someone else do this?" What if I can't put her off? It's dark out already, and a bit chilly for fooling around.

  "Your skin will feel just like Ricardo's, you've temporarily got that sort of trying-to-conceal-a-glow-in-the-dark presence Xen has. And you're the only wizard in the King's Own right now."

  "Except Xen." And you glow in the dark too, girl!

  "She knows Xen. Too much of a chance she'd recognize him. And Janic's keeping him busy." Quicksilver gave a disgusted snort. "I think he's become a suspect."

  "He and Dad have butted heads, in the past." Deena steered him out the door. "C'mon hotshot, it's time for you to go charm a witch."

  Easterly sat up on the hill above the Tavern, the Moon bright enough to make him clearly visible to anyone who walked the path to Q's house, and after a very short time he spotted a thin figure walking along the path. She was hurrying, and a bit hunched, as if afraid to be out in the dark. He shifted and she spotted him.

  "Oh, you're here early!" She ran up the hill and literally threw herself on him. She kissed him long and hard, rubbing herself up against him and getting the expected reaction. "Oh you must not be having any luck, while you're being Hugo. Good, more for me." She jerked her belt buckle loose and whipped gown and shift off. "I don't see why I can't come with you. It's so boring in Rip. No one talks about anything but farming. When we get our big house I'll have servants to do everything, and we'll never, ever talk about when to plant or how dry the soil is." Then she practically ate his lips while she was unbuttoning his shirt.

  Easterly rubbed up and down her back, all too aware that he couldn't get out of this without completely blowing this fishing expedition. He kicked his shoes off and wiggled out of his pants, cold winter dried grass against his butt . . . oh damn it, he hadn't the faintest idea how to, let alone how Ricardo . . . he couldn't imitate an accomplished rake . . . Pretend I'm one of my cousins? He shuddered at the thought of play acting Tyrone . . . but . . . She pounced, straddled him, rose up to position herself . . .

  Thrills he hadn't imagined. A burst of power. She screamed, wiggled, bounced.

  Is this normal? She didn't even seem conscious. Crying out, jerking. He started moving cautiously and she arched and groaned, wrapping her scrawny legs around him and squeezing. He could feel the power flow, from her to him, his head felt stuffed with it, and his shaft too, for that matter, and he drove deep into her as he came, and he poured all that power back into her. She thrashed and gasped, and sent a surge back to him that had him hot and pumping again. She kept clutching and grabbing him, and twitching like an uncontrolled reflex. She seemed almost incoherent. Had Ricardo done something to her? This time when he came, he grabbed her waist, pushed her away before he was completely drained, and that quickly she started chattering again.

  "Did you do it? Steal the horse? Did you ride him? Can I see him? If you come back tomorrow, I'll bring wine for him. That tedious idiot Quicksilver keeps wine in her horse's first aid kit, can you imagine that?"

  She didn't seem to expect a reply. "Do you think we should have our own Island, like the God of Just Deserts? Or shall we just live in town? Why did I have to go back to Rip? I could give you an alibi in Karista."

  Easterly kept an eye on her, but she didn't seem to find anything odd in his getting dressed. "Have you talked to Hes
o or Zap?"

  "Not since . . . You said they were heading south. What do you have down there? When can I see it?" Her voice was developing an unpleasant whine.

  "Later."

  She sighed. "I don't see why I can't have another baby now, your baby. It's so tedious, being treated like a little girl. My father was a god. You should have a son, as strong and handsome as you are. I mean, I know you have plenty, but you don't have one that is your very own, to hold and love and raise. To teach to be just like you."

  She sighed again, but dressed and walked away. She looked back over her shoulder. "I'll be back tomorrow, and bring wine for your horse."

  Easterly warped light around himself, and hoped it looked like traveling.

  He could feel her, practically see her, walking toward the very bright spot that was Quicksilver. He snorted a bit to himself at how far away he could see that. Well, his magical ability certainly had improved, just like Master Dydit had told him it would. Not that he was going to mention to Deena that that had been his first.

  ::What? Easterly is that you nattering away in the background?:: Deena's voice, clear in his head.

  He felt himself blushing and tried to pull his thoughts in and contain them. To let out only the ones he wanted out, and only make them available to the people he wanted to hear them. :: Sorry. Teri is headed for Q's house. This isn't going t'work, she talks all the time. She'll say something about 'like I told you yesterday' and t'jig will be up. ::

  :: Tell Quicksilver. ::

 

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