Gods of War (Jethro goes to war Book 5)

by Chris Hechtl

  She was ready to do anything when a cart loaded with two familiar humans and containers of food came up the road. She waved a hand, attracting their attention. When she heard the cart pull up to a stop, she bit her lip then scrambled out of the ditch, staying low. She walked up past the horses to Vanessa and Alvin.

  “Morning, Flo. Fancy meeting you out here,” Vanessa said conversationally as she tipped her broad hat back. “Though you seem a bit far from home,” she said, looking on to the town.

  “I can't go back. They burned my home to the ground after they killed my Pete,” Flo said, near tears. She looked at Vanessa with sad eyes as small hands touched her cheek to offer what comfort they could. She caught Taavi's hand and kissed it.

  “I'll bring you back to the farm quiet like,” Vanessa said. “But it will have to wait until we're on our way back. Wait here. Hide well,” she urged.

  “Mom …,” Alvin protested weakly.

  “Hush,” Vanessa murmured. “Flo is one of us, and we take care of our own,” she said.

  Flo reached up and gripped her hand. Vanessa looked down at it. “Bless you,” the Neochimp said.

  Vanessa patted her hand. “We'll be back for you like I said. Stay down and stay quiet,” she said.

  “Yes ums,” Flo said. She scrambled back the way she had come.

  <)>^<)>/

  Vanessa watched her go, then clucked and twitched the reins to get the horses moving again. The boys took a moment of straining to get the loaded wagon moving. Once inertia took hold, it became easier to move. She knew that the closer they got to town the easier it would be on them and their backs.

  She also knew she would be in a world of trouble, her and her son if they got caught. She thought fast and furious about what she could do to keep things from spiraling further out of control.

  The simplest thing she could do was report the woman. She'd heard in the nightly broadcasts that the invaders were paying rations to turn them in. Not that she needed them, nor did she want a bribe for turning in her friends and neighbors. No, that was out.

  She could keep going on, ignoring the woman and her children when they went home, but she couldn't do that either. The small faces had been heartbreaking for her to see. No, she'd do something. She'd have to smuggle them out, past the guards at the bridge over the river. It would be risky, but she knew she'd want someone to do it for her and her children.

  Settled, or as settled as she could be, she focused on the ride into town.

  <)>^<)>/

  Vanessa and Alvin made their delivery to Al's Market without further incident. Alvin was Al's godson, so Al made a show of checking up on the boy and ruffling his hair. The boy came out of his shell and talked normally after that.

  Vanessa was nervous though, so she cut the visit short. “It's getting hotter by the minute, boys,” she said, making a show of wiping her face with a handkerchief.

  “We know,” George said, shaking his head as he got the tailgate down. His elder brothers Boyd and Fred climbed up into the cart to muscle the goods to the edge of the bed while their youngest brother Taylor brought over a bucket of water and an empty trough for the two Clydesdales to drink. “Get the feed too,” George ordered.

  “On it,” Taylor grunted as he set the trough up for the thirsty horses to drink. Vanessa went around them and loosened their straps in order to let them relax and breathe easier.

  She bought Alvin a couple of Serena's hard cookies to keep him chewing and his mouth from talking. From the bright eyes he had, she knew the bribe would work. And she also knew he wouldn't save a few for his sisters as he had solemnly promised he would. No matter.

  As Alvin, Al, George, Boyd, Fred, and Kale unloaded, she caught up on gossip from Serena, Al's wife, as she browsed the goods they intended to use in trade with her. They kept the dickering short and sweet; it was easy since they knew each other so well. She knew Serena was picking up on her urge to go. She couldn't do anything about that.

  Usually she stayed in town during the heat of the day and didn't return to the road home until evening set in and it started to cool off. But with the invaders around, she had no intention of overstaying her welcome and drawing their unwanted attention her way.

  Since Al had some stockpiled goods he couldn't move but needed the room for, she got a fair price on paint and a few hand tools Jon would appreciate. She also got a bolt of pink cloth to make some new clothes for the girls and a fresh sharpening stone for Jon. There was of course no ammunition to be had. She was tempted to bring the bolt in town to have Isabel do the work but didn't want to overstay her welcome, nor did she want to bring the girls in to have them properly fitted. She could do the rough pattern and sizing and then bring it to the woman to do the proper sewing if need be. No sense risking Gretchen or Clarice.

  When the boys were half finished unloading, she smiled to them. Al wiped at his face with a handkerchief and then soaked it in a bucket before he wrung it out. He ran it over his face once more and then tied it around his neck to help cool him.

  “It is getting hot,” Vanessa said, looking up as she shaded her hand to the rising sun. “I think we best get moving sooner rather than later. Jon kept Kevin back to help with the chores, so we'd best get going too,” she said, turning to Serena.

  “Well, in that case,” Serena murmured, tapping the keg of sugar and the smaller box of tea leaves. Both were precious since trade with the hot regions was strangled.

  They finished up their quick dicker as the boys finished unloading. Everyone was a tad nervous with the occasional look over their shoulders to the Horathians standing guard and doing inventory. “This is new,” Vanessa said quietly to Serena. “Great, now they want a tithe of this too? We paid on the way in,” Vanessa sighed.

  “I know. It goes up every week it seems,” Al murmured to her. He gave her a quilt and some gear for the farm she'd ordered. He also turned over her empty containers from the last delivery. She knew he charged a redemption fee on them and only returned the fee when the containers were returned in good order, cleaned and ready for reuse. Not that she wouldn't clean them again anyway. She'd been burned once by Rudy accusing her of food poisoning three years ago. From what she'd heard from the recent gossip, the bitch had gotten hers. She had made a mental note to tell Flo about it when she saw her again.

  “Freya and Chuck are gone so the smithy is closed I'm afraid,” Al said with a shake of his head. “Shoeing horses and animals around here just got harder. We're going to have to bring them up to Mayfellow or on to Bixby at this rate,” he said.

  “Wonderful,” Vanessa drawled. “Guess I won't be stopping by there today,” she murmured. “I'll see if Jon can mend what he can … when he has the time,” she said with a shake of her head. “He's plum worked himself out now that it's summer. I don't want him to drop from heat stroke,” she said. Al nodded soberly.

  “It's getting a tad rough around here,” Al said, looking around him as he played with his apron. It was frayed and stained, his “work” apron. His wife made him keep his good one hung on a peg in case a rich customer came calling. “You done with your dickering?” he asked, eying her and then his wife both women nodded. “Clean me out?” he asked. She snorted. Serena gave a sniff of disdain at her husband's attempt at humor.

  “I'll be back next week, weather permitting,” Vanessa said. “You get what, a delivery from each farm every week? Got us all timed out to keep you in stock as usual?” she asked with a small smile as she eyed the old coot.

  It was his turn to snort. “Figured me out. Figures,” he said with a shake of his head. He hooked his thumbs in his apron and tugged on it a bit until his wife slapped at him to get him to desist wearing the fabric out. “I can't get you to compete on the prices to keep it all down though. I'm barely charging above cost as it is,” he said, indicating the store. She looked around and nodded.

  “I'll get the jars and their lids back to you when they are empty,” Al said, indicating the jars of preserves and other things the boy
s and Al had unloaded. The jars were precious, carefully cleaned, used, and then cleaned again. They were being used more often now that it was summer and there was a bountiful harvest going on at their farm. Not that she was willing to admit that to Al or anyone.

  She was somewhat glad Kevin or Jon weren't there with her she thought as she shook hands with Al and he turned to deal with a deluge of customers who had descended upon word of her arrival getting out. She checked the horses over with expert hands and then tightened up their girth straps once more. “Sorry boys, but we need to get going,” she murmured, slipping them a chunk of carrot each that she'd picked up from Serena as a treat. They crunched away at it happily.

  She piled into the seat with a sweaty and grateful Alvin. The boy was proud of his wiry but strong frame; he was farm bred after all. But he still didn't have a lot of meat on his lanky bones, not enough to be a big help on heavy lifting jobs. They went back the way they'd come, clucking at the beasts. When they got to the ditch, she stopped and made a psst sound.

  “Mom …,” Alvin protested eyes wide.

  “Hush,” Vanessa scolded as Flo came out with her babies. She had them tuck under a blanket then piled some clothes and stuff on top. “Don't say nothin, don't know nothin. We clear?” she demanded, eying the boy severely enough to let him know she was dead serious. The boy gulped and nodded. He knew better than to get on mama's bad side when she was in a mood. The last time his older brother had tested mama he hadn't been able to sit for several days, and he'd had a big ole hand print on his face too. He hadn't minded seeing his big brother taken down a peg, but it had put the fear of mama and papa in all the kids.

  “Good.” She continued to look at him for a moment until he ducked away, then she gathered up the reins. “Hiya,” Vanessa said, twitching the reins and then clucking to get the beasts moving once again.

  <)>^<)>/

  Jon knew something was up when Vanessa backed the cart up to the root cellar, instead of into the buggy barn. He wasn't sure what she was up to until she finished what she'd been doing and then had put the buggy and animals away.

  He finally got a chance to talk to his wife when he took a break from the woodcutting.

  “What did you do woman?” he demanded. She eyed him severely, put a finger to her lips, and then made certain none of the kids were around. Once she was certain the coast was clear, she sketched out what had happened in quiet tones.

  He listened to her carefully. He could see she was upset and a bit shaken by what Flo had said to her. “I wish you hadn't taken the risk, but I'm glad you had. You wouldn't be you if you weren't doing something or other to get into mischief,” he said, tipping his hat back with a thumb.

  “Oh you! Go on with you,” she said, slapping his chest.

  He snorted.

  “We need to work on Alvin. He's a good lad, but it is a secret and he's never been one to keep it,” Vanessa mused. “Especially from his siblings if it was burning enough to taunt them with,” she said.

  “It is trouble,” Jon mused as he thought about the problem, “for the family. He's grown up enough to know it's important to keep his word. I'll have a word with him, a stern one to get him to mind,” he rumbled as his wife wrapped her arms around him. She looked up at him with bright eyes. “He'll keep it, even from your brothers and sisters,” Jon vowed. “What they don't know, they can't accidentally tell others,” he said.

  Vanessa nodded, clearly troubled now that she had more time to realize how much neck she'd stuck out for someone else. Someone clearly on the run and marked for death.

  “We feed them. See if we can get someone else to take them on as quick as we can and as quiet as we can, since we don't know who's on our side anymore,” Jon said, rubbing his jaw with one hand. He took his cap off and ran a hand through his hair and then put the cap back on after he'd slapped it against his thigh a few times to get the dirt and sawdust off.

  “Borlin. They helped the Borlins last year, remember? They've been friends with them for years like us. I'm sure Anne will know where to hide them; their farm is up in the hills at the base of the mountains,” Vanessa said.

  “Had time to think about it?” Jon rumbled, eying her. “Always one step ahead of me, woman?”

  “Well,” Vanessa drawled, not quite ready to admit she'd just thought of it.

  “Good. Go on with you. You're going to have to save a bit of food for them. And find a way to smuggle it out to her and the kids while our own pack is busy in the house. Not easy,” Jon said as he patted his wife's behind.

  She didn't protest, just nodded as she considered the new problem and how to deal with it.

  <)>^<)>/

  Sergeant Scornlan split his time between his usual duties as well as overseeing the work on the engineering of the underground base. Major Noveletto had sent Lieutenant Guy Kinoshita and a small group to oversee the planning of the base initially. The lieutenant checked in every few days and was on call over the radio if they got stuck. Fortunately, the basic layout had been relatively straightforward.

  His plan had been for the armor morgue as well as workshops and storage for the robots. A place for the drones to land and be worked on too had been added as well as a bathroom and small kitchenette. Having the underground base meant they had been allowed to unpack their own micro-fusion generator as well as their industrial replicator. He'd pinched enough machinery from the capital to make a respectable machine shop in the generous space he'd blocked out for him and his techs to use.

  But he hadn't planned on the other stuff in the base that the officers had wanted. Like the expanded galley, more storage, more bathrooms, water storage, barracks, comm shack, and offices. They'd ended up stripping a couple office buildings and some warehouses for the supplies to outfit them. But the lieutenant and captain were constantly harping about the air, lighting, smells, or this or that.

  He was overworked, in need of a vacation, but he'd never admit he was loving every minute of being in his element.

  <)>^<)>/

  Flo took on any job Vanessa gave her without complaint. She churned butter, made cheese, mended clothes, and made candles. She couldn't do her wash, but Vanessa did it for her. She felt a bit naked until Vanessa came back with her clothes.

  Vanessa fed them what she could. She also gave them plenty of milk, so the boys quickly got fat from the whey and milk. They had to drink it in the morning, even though it was warm. If they left it to the afternoon, it went bad in the heat. It was also why Flo had to be quick about churning the butter and making the cheese.

  Her sons were quiet, something she treasured. She kept them inside but let them go into the light from the cellar door from time to time. She also cleaned up after them and herself. Vanessa had been kind enough to give her a privy pot to use. She would sneak out after dark and empty it and let the boys get a little fresh air.

  The cellar was musty, but it was cooler than being in the farmhouse since it was underground she knew.

  Vanessa had warned her that she couldn't stay on forever, and she knew deep down that the woman was right. She blessed her for her courage to taking them on for this long and not turning them in or turfing them out. She just wished she had some way of saving for her next stop.

  <)>^<)>/

  Pablo picked through the valuables from his last late and unlamented target. The woman had some nice jewelry, but after closer examination, most of it had turned out to be costume jewelry, nothing of real value.

  Major Lockhart was starting to get wise to his path of vengeance and had started to attempt to put the curbs on it. Pablo wasn't happy about it, but he understood the logic. His actions were dividing the human community and undermining Major Scherer's work. He knew he could get even with others if he dampened his enthusiasm. If he rationed it, he'd still get it in the end. He'd waited this long, and since word had gotten out, people were sucking up to him and even offering bribes to get on his good side.

  All the better he thought as he pocketed what he wanted, then
went to the dining room to get the dead woman's silver. It wouldn't help some of those he intended to punish in the end though; it just moved them down his list. Making them wait … yes, make them wonder when the axe would fall … yes that would be fun he thought. Torture them slowly over time. Or better yet, let their own thoughts torture them for him.

  After all, the best things came to those who wait. He grimaced at the blood on the carpet. That wasn't going to come out, so he might as well leave it he thought with a shake of his head. Perhaps next time he'd be wiser to drag the victim out and pronounce sentence in the street and do it there he thought. No, it would be best in private to keep Scherer happy he reminded himself as he used the tablecloth to bag the set of silverware and fine china.

  Revenge was definitely a dish best served cold he thought as he stepped over the old woman's body and then went about his business.

  Patrick and Fernando Scalari were two of his newly-appointed tax collectors and district managers. The brothers were good at their job, and they knew not to skim too much from the take. They had an air of fervent devotion he knew was only partially feigned. They truly wanted to share in the spoils and power.

  They had pointed out that some of the outlying towns were hard up to tax too early, though warning people of the tax might let them plan ahead. He saw it as a two-edged sword he thought as he picked through some of the old woman's valuables. Patrick insisted Shen Lajoy could handle Bixby, Fallbrook, and Mayfellow as long as he had proper support.

  He paused as he picked through the copper pots. It was a lot for a kid to take on he knew. He also knew he was getting a little too drunk with power. Should he let the kid take on the responsibility? Prove himself? It would show others that he was willing to promote … he slowly nodded. Yes, he'd do it, but he'd set a high bar for the kid to rise up to. That would let others know they had to perform.

  As far as the taxes were concerned, he didn't like the idea of warning people. A subtle hint maybe, but if they let them know that it was coming too early they'd hide their take. No, he'd rather it come at them cold. So what if a few were cleaned out in the process? They could just take it from the aliens and Neos. They were going to be dead anyway, right?