by Pam Uphoff
"Took you long enough. So, where is that slut?"
"Mortuary. And no, no one volunteered to take the babies."
She froze with her mouth half open, then took the diapers and counted them. "Six? For three babies? I would have thought you'd learned better, being an uncle to so many children." She smiled wickedly. "Let me introduce you to the fine art of washing diapers."
Damien boiled diapers, and again the next morning, and evening. By which time he'd run out of options. He bought a lot of diapers. None of the whores would take even a single baby, let alone three, not even with the Palace paying their upkeep. Onray said Periti's year was nearly up, he could refund maybe five royals to whoever would keep the babies. The whores all rolled their eyes. None of the merchant families he delivered to would accept the baby of a whore. Under Andrai's icy glare he started looking for a wet nurse. He wound up with a nanny goat. Two weeks later, his second trip to the docks drew a whistle and yell from a barge being rowed toward the dock. Code and Vani waving, Aurora clinging to her mother's skirt, and a familiar type bundle in Vani's arms.
He set the brake and climbed down to meet them.
"So, what is this Andrai writes, about you inheriting triplets?" Vani marched up the gangplank, while Code tossed luggage onto the wharf.
"Don't tell me, let me guess. Another girl?"
"Don't you deflect me, Damien Malder. What's going on?"
Code followed her, the now two year old on his hip. "Aunt Andrai's letter said you've been accused of murdering a whore and got stuck with her triplets. We came to see if she'd gone round the bend or you needed rescuing."
Damien tossed their luggage into the wagon. "I don't think I'm a suspect, but somehow the triplets landed on my doorstep. I suppose I have something like a one-in-four chance of being the father . . . umm, with three babies, maybe I am . . . umm. Well. Welcome home and where's everyone else?"
"At the witches' school."
Vani snorted. "The village school. Which is a very good school. Mihaela gets witching lessons on top of it, Dori a few basic lessons, and Sanda is staying with friends."
"Goldfinch and Heron." Code helped the burdened Vani up into the wagon. "And Dori's with her buddy Emerald. They go through these lists, naming their babies on themes. We narrowly fought off Deimos for our little Ileana, here."
"It's a moon of Mars, not something nasty." Vani smiled at her husband. "Really though, I think I was glad of the excuse to get away for a while. I didn't grow up like that, and it doesn't sit well. I mean, I have plenty of friends in the city who are whores, but they don't pretend that what they do is the best way to live."
Code snickered. "Don't ever let one of them hear you comparing their relationships with men to whoring. You'll be fried to a crisp."
Damien gathered up the reins and headed home.
"Mihaela is taking to using the power very well. Dori, well, she insists on going to the Summer Solstice Ceremony. She's fourteen this year, so if she doesn't show power in the next two years, she's out of the pyramid."
"So once we rescue you, we'll head right back up there." Code said. "We'll bring her and Sanda back here, and they can go back when Vani goes. Aurora and Ileana also, of course."
Damien chuckled. "Of course? Glad to hear that you've come to terms with the witches."
Vani sniffed. "Code's always been very adaptable, all it takes is a big enough club."
They rolled into the wagon yard and Andrai stuck her head out. "Well, look at that. Just as I was about to think you really had murdered your family, and Damien had taken care of you privately!"
Code started laughing. "Seven months and I'd forgotten what you were like. Good morning Aunt Andrai. We're here to rescue Damien."
Andrai harrumphed, but let them all in. Much ado was made over the triplets, who at three and a half months of age were close in size to the six week old Ileana. Jeinah arrived in a flurry to hug everyone, and the luggage was hauled to the middle house. Vani ran around opening all the windows and bemoaning the dust, but they were moved back in quickly and after some very brief negotiations, the triplets were moved in as well.
"Don't be silly Damien. You've taken in enough waifs to be owed a bit of work. At this age they need a woman's care. You'll be taking over soon enough."
Max returned with the two bought mares, Salty and Blazer. The first thing Damien did was send Tony off to the farm with the very fat mares. All four of them. So they kept two wagons busy until Tony returned three and a half weeks later with the two two-year old fillies Chocolate and Butterscotch. Damien put his foot down and insisted the fillies have only half days in harness.
"That was an, umm, interesting trip." Tony grinned. "Five days from the farm, Mama Mia foaled. You know, new foals are hard to keep from running off. Then when I finally was almost there, Persimmon laid down in the middle of the lane and dropped the biggest damn filly imaginable."
"What, nothing from Spot or Star?" Code snickered. "I suppose they were bred a bit later."
"Not much later. I stayed three days, so you get the whole report. Spot had a colt and Star a filly. And Chaos and Cumin had already foaled when I got there."
"Old Gods! What am I supposed to do with six foals?"
"Oh, and Solstice must have gotten out with the old mares last year, or maybe Kar before they brought him into town. The three old ladies all had fillies."
"Make that, nine foals."
"Six fillies, three colts."
"Well. Always nice to know I'll have some healthy young teams coming along in a few years. But Blue and Kar are not to go anywhere near the farm this year. Or next, for that matter. And Solstice is twenty-seven, surely we can keep him fenced in."
Code snickered. "We'll see what comes up this year. Maybe I can spend part of the winter down there, training all your future teams."
Then the babies started crying, and Damien joined the rush to feed them.
On the Autumnal Equinox, another woman was murdered in the temple of Ba'al.
Chapter Six
Fall Equinox 1387
Karista, Kingdom of the West
Damien blinked at the sharp eyed officer on his door step. "Sorry, I was just headed for bed. How can I help you?"
"I regret to say that I need a complete list of where you've been all day. In fact since about two in the morning."
Damien eyed him in return. "Who died?"
No answer.
"I woke about fourish, fed the horses, had toast and tea, brushed and harnessed the horses, and headed out, umm, I heard the bells, so it would have been right at five. Dock Master Jimpson on number five hailed me. Two crates to Dason Dyers. Hour and a half to get there, that time of day."
The man was writing everything down.
"I think you'd better come in, this is going to take some time."
He put the tea kettle back on the fire, and poked it up a bit. "Let's see. Back to the docks. Took forever, some idiot had ditched his rig and one of the horses was seriously lame. That was on Wilson boulevard, where it crosses Holly street. So it was easily nine-thirty, or ten when I got back to the docks. Umm, Master Gonder on the fourth wharf hailed me. Five separate deliveries, but all in the University district, so I loaded up and headed back up the hill. Do you want all the addresses?" He did. Damien had been blessed with a good memory and the army had trained it further. He included his lunch at the Sooty Duck where he'd met Eddy and Max and they'd agreed on who was picking Cordelia up in the afternoon.
"Not your pal Code?"
"He's off checking on his second daughter who's, umm, at a school in another town." Damien sighed at the man's skeptical eyebrows. "He took the stage to Wallenton a week ago. He, and or his daughters, depending on how they're doing, should be back, by barge, in another three weeks."
"His wife isn't with him?"
"No, she's staying here with her three year old, her baby and those triplets I seem to have inherited. Who died? When?"
"Midnight of the Solstice. Roughly twenty-two h
ours ago. Another whore."
Damien frowned. "Was this one associated with the prince? Or . . . who was it? Was she from the Sooty Duck?"
"Lala is the only name we have so far. You knew her?"
"Yes. I've been eating, drinking and bonking there for twenty-seven years. I know all of them. What the hell? Why would anyone kill someone as basically unthreatening as one of them?" Repeat killer. A total sicko. And what if he branches out and kills other women in the area? Damien tried to breath normally. Vani, Jeinah, or . . . not little Cordelia. Surely the neighborhood kids are safe!
"The Prince slipped his leash again a month ago. We've been stricter about watching him since, and we're very sure of where he was when the woman was killed. Come to the temple of Ba'al in the morning. Tell the guards there that Captain Janic wants to see you."
Damien fixed himself a pot of tea and drank it slowly, thinking. What was at the temple, and why would Janic want him to see it? And how am I going to protect my people? My neighbors.
He got up at his usual time to feed the horses, then relaxed with a larger than usual breakfast. He sent Tony off with his team, then harnessed the youngsters and took Cordelia to school. The temple of Ba'al was a quarter of the way around the City, and guarded by serious looking troops.
He drove around to what had once been the main gates. "Captain Janic asked me to come, this morning."
The soldier nodded and stepped out of the way. "Please tie the horses there and walk up."
"There" was nice and shady, so he tied the fillies and hiked up toward the marble ruins of the temple. A man waved him over and he spotted Janic in the middle of a blood splattered floor. No. Not splatters. Writing. He hesitated to step on it, but it seemed to be written in a spiral, from the perimeter inward. He swallowed queasily.
"What is it?"
"The ravings of a lunatic, written in blood. Come and look at it from the center."
He stepped carefully from clear space to clear space until he was in the middle. From here, the words were clear enough, but made no sense, a random mess that started out poetry and turned into history or prophecy and threats.
"Someone is bat shit crazy. It doesn't even make sense."
"It makes more sense if you consider that it is split in four quarters. With words running over sometimes." The officer went back to his silent contemplation, and Damien looked the writings over again. The gaps separating the quarters weren't north-south and east-west as he first tried to see, but rather on the diagonals, so one quarter was to the north, others to the east, south and west.
"Two that were like one, inseparable. Two sides of the same coin." Damien moved to the east. "Borne by the same woman, scorned by the same woman, scorched by the same woman." South. "Through Gates and Fire, never seeking Heaven and always finding Hell." West. "Death for Death. Come face me if you dare. One will join him." A complete raving lunatic, murdering people.
"You read ancient Scoo." Janic was studying him.
Damien dropped his eyes back to the writing. It was in archaic Anglish. He hadn't even noticed. "Yes. It makes a bit more sense, unscrambled like this. But the man is still bat shit crazy. Or woman I suppose, but the violence and the 'scorned by woman' seems to indicate a man. And 'borne of the same woman'—someone out to avenge a brother's death?" He stared around the temple. "Before I came to the Kingdom, I didn't believe in magic. Now . . . I don't suppose you have a wizard on staff or anything?"
"Not in town. Not since the disappearance of the King's Storm Mage. Or at least not any that admit to it. Do you know any magic, Mr. Malder?"
"No. I . . . this is really disturbing. Periti was . . . not a very bright young woman. She was half frightened and half excited about the ceremony they made out of, apparently, the Prince and her's mutual loss of virginity. Then . . . that was on the Summer Solstice, I think."
"And so was her murder, a year later." Janic stepped carefully out of the hideous circle of scribblings, and Damien followed him. "Now this one, on the Equinox. We're still hunting down hungover drovers, handlers, ship and barge crewmen and anyone else who might have seen her. Mostly a waste of time, most of them have no idea of the name of the whore they humped while half drunk the night before. I'm lucky if they remember what she wore or the color of her hair. But I keep hoping I'll strike lucky and be able to pin down the time she was last seen. My two in the morning fellow has admitted that he only wished the whore had blonde hair like his old girlfriend. He's pretty sure now that she didn't, and we found a whore who said she said her name was Lala because a customer was looking for his old flame Lala. So she was last seen by some one who knows her at about ten."
Damien rubbed his arms. The hair seemed to be standing up of its own accord. "Well. You might want to give this man who wanted Lala a second look, make sure he doesn't have a brother who was scorned by someone named Lala. And you might check on who has died here. I've heard Ba'alist say the god was murdered here. Do gods have brothers?"
Janic snorted. "I don't believe in gods."
"I used to not. Did some Ba'alist lose what little sanity he had and decide he was the god's brother?"
"I don't know. I have trouble enough with the self-proclaimed sons and daughters of Ba'al."
"Why are you interested in me?"
"Because you knew both victims—and unlike most of the regulars at the Sooty Duck, you seem to care about people."
Damien blinked at him in surprise.
"Everyone in the docks speaks well of you. From beating up a sneak thief—and then giving him work, to taking in stray kids, to stopping and helping people—everyone knows you. The whores all sigh wistfully, because you're clean and nice, and you act like a real gentleman is supposed to. They bed you for fun, or to cover up a raw memory. They all thought you might actually marry Periti, except she wasn't very smart."
"I adopt strays, I don't marry them. And I'm not the marrying sort." Damien looked around the room and then walked back out and stood shivering in the sun. "I used to think it was fun, to read about mysterious deaths. But what if this nut tries to kill again? When, on the Equinox? Or the next full moon? Old Gods, this is nasty. Can I bring someone up here? If she'll come. She's sort of a witch."
"All right. Bring her before noon though. The boss wants to scrub that nastiness off before more people find out about it and either panic or copy it."
Chapter Seven
Fall Equinox 1387
Karista, Kingdom of the West
Damien nodded and walked away, disturbed. It took a bit of arm twisting, but Andrai agreed to watch the babies—six months old already? Couldn't be!—while Vani rode with Damien back to the ruins. Janic had obviously left orders, they were admitted without a word said.
Vani stopped halfway to the temple, sweating, cold and sick. "It hates me, it wants to kill me. It hates me!" She would have bolted if not for his hand on her arm. "Damien, I can't go in there."
He led her away quickly, and boosted her into the wagon. Janic appeared from nowhere and climbed up beside her. "Ma'am? What did you sense, up there?"
"Something horrible, something waiting to get me." She glanced up toward the temple and cringed against Damien. "Damien, hurry, I need to get out of here, right now."
Damien let the fillies trot out for a bit, and turned several corners, to get the temple out of sight. "What did you see up there, Vani?"
"Nothing, it was just the skin trying to crawl off my body, and the longer I was there, the more it felt like something was focusing on me, coming to get me."
"Well, I've heard about sixth senses and so forth. Do you think there was some man watching, maybe with rape and murder on his mind?"
She shook her head, "No, nothing so ordinary, this was just nightmarish. Sick."
"Was it a spell? Think about what you learned from those old women. Is there a spell for terror?"
She frowned, thinking now. "They've got one for overcoming fear. And they harped about how every spell had an opposite, so there should be one for succu
mbing to fear. Is that what I just did? Got overwhelmed by fear?"
"That makes more sense than you suddenly discovering you're squeamish and prone to over imaginative hysterics." Damien smiled as her lips quirked faintly. "Can you write a letter about this to one of the witches? I don't know that they'd get involved with our problem, but they might have some advice."
Vani nodded jerkily and hugged herself. "I still feel like something horrible is following me."
Janic looked at her thoughtfully. "Would you object to my putting guards on you? We have some women in the King's Own." He bit his lip. "I won't say I'm using them for bait . . . but if someone is following you, best we have women who know how to fight there." He dropped off at a corner and Damien drove a circuitous route home.
He helped with the babies, and got underfoot for a few hours, oblivious to Andrai's snide comments, until two women rode down Bass Lane and dismounted at their doorstep. Lily Parsons was a good looking woman in her mid thirties. Tall, blonde, athletic build. Her alert eyes searched the street and dissected his soul. She reminded him of Nicole. Deena Janic was maybe twenty, with black hair and brown eyes. She exuded a willingness to beat up anything and especially anybody who noticed her gorgeous face and shapely body. Hell, she didn't need a body to attract men, she fairly glowed. He wondered if she was the Captain's daughter or if the name was merely a coincidence. Andrai followed disapprovingly as they searched all three homes and the stables.
Damien decided it was time to pick up Cordelia and made himself scarce.
When he got back the five women were drinking tea and giggling about something. From the glances sliding his direction he rather thought the subject might be a certain bachelor with triplets. The fillies were doing well, having spent most of the day standing around, so he dropped down to the docks and found a mixed load to deliver all over the southside before coming home and unharnessing. And cleaning stalls. Nine year old Carl was the only kid of the right age left, now that Cordelia was learning manners and etiquette alongside her geometry. "Do you have any friends who want to earn some money?" Damien finished picking over the last stall. "Especially in two days when we need to strip the stalls down. I wish they'd all piss and crap in one corner like Solstices' foals all do."