Sea Wolves (Wine of the Gods Book 21)

by Pam Uphoff

  "All right. Ordinary sneakiness. Deena, third office left. I'll take right. Xen, go listen. You're more likely to get away with using magic undetected, if it's needed."

  They walked quietly down the hallway, and Deena checked at the door to the third office. No light around the edges, no sound. She turned the knob, and pushed the door. No squeak. She slipped in and closed the door. A very organized desk. Locked. One picture hung a bit oddly against the wall. It was affixed to the wall, not hanging more or less loosely.

  She had the safe behind it open in two slow minutes, memorized the position of the files inside and started looking through them.

  Three sheets down in the first file, a memo.

  Keep an eye on these so called Sea Wolves. A more dangerous ally is hard to imagine, they betray their own king, and we have no hold on them at all. Be sure that your crews are solidly loyal. I will be sending my most trusted lieutenants to serve under their captains and this 'Admiral' of theirs. W

  Allies. Not home grown magicians. She abstracted several line drawings of ships, and a building schedule. Lists of expected crews and the timing of bringing them here to train.

  They must have either aggressive intentions toward the Islands, or perhaps they wished to take over control of trade. The Sea King's response to that last would make the first a necessity.

  Another memo.

  These fishermen and merchants the Sea Wolves capture. Can't you stop them from killing them? If it ever gets out there will be diplomatic repercussions at the least, and we really don't want to find ourselves with both the Islands and the Westerners out for our blood at the same time. W

  Deena bit her lip. The man killed earlier today, had he been a captured Westerner? Were there more?

  She rolled the sheets she'd abstracted, slipped them into her bubble and replaced everything in the safe.

  She peeked out the door and spotted Xen close to the open door, and could hear the rise and fall of voices.

  She slipped out and gestured him away. Opened the door to the room Easterly was working his way through. He looked up, as they both slipped in, and Xen shut the door.

  Deena showed her collection of plans, and the memos. "If there are captured merchantmen or fishermen here, could we steal a ship? I'd like to see the Cove Islanders deny that."

  Easterly nodded. "There was mention in a memo of building a jail to the south. Let's go see who's there."

  Xen grinned. "And I know which ship to steal. They've finished the rigging and got the sails for three ships, but they've only got one loaded and ready for sea trials at the moment. Those two were arguing about whether they ought to wait till all three were ready."

  The jail was just a large building with solid log walls between the four rooms, and doors of iron bars and massive locks. Xen had the locks open in seconds, as Easterly hushed the prisoners.

  "They've got three ships rigged, but only one supplied and ready for sea trials." Easterly rumbled quietly.

  A thin gray haired man smiled. "We know which one, we've been watching them as best we can. But how are we going to get down to it? Those Sea Wolves . . . They like to play with swords, but I've seen them kill with fire, throwing fire fifty, sixty feet."

  "We'll get you to the ship, and then we'll head the other direction and keep the Sea Wolves busy while you get underway."

  "Aye. Tide's going out, we can cast off and drift as we work out the rigging."

  "Quick enough to keep us off the rocks, I trust." Another gray hair. This one looked less like a sailor and more like a merchant.

  They followed Xen as he led them around the encampment and circled back to the docks. Then the sailors swarmed quietly aboard a ship and cast off.

  Deena looked at the other ships. They'd have to use magic if they wanted to sink them, but setting them adrift might slow pursuit of the first ship. She started working on the ropes.

  Sudden noise from uphill. Sharp peels of a bell.

  "Run." Easterly snapped. "Xen, can you sink the boats without attracting attention?"

  "Probably." He started making gestures, running along the dock.

  Deena sprinted to keep up, splitting her attention between her footing and the uniformed men piling out of the four buildings. Looking to the bell ringer, excited voices, "...escaped ..."

  Drat, they know a couple dozen sailors are loose! "Xen, an illusion of the sailors, running with us?"

  "Ha!" Figures sprang up, running silently.

  Deena glanced back. In the dark she could barely see the masts against the sky, they were leaning, haphazard, and leaning further. Excellent. Up ahead a smaller boat was casting off. A lantern shone on the metal barrels of thunder guns. A sharp crack and the mast fell. Excellent. No pursuit of the ship. Now we just need to get ourselves out of here.

  She spotted more soldiers . . .but they were past three of the buildings. Men were running from the fourth. Sea Wolves by their dark shirts and white pants. Drawing swords and howling as they closed in on them.

  Her stun spell bounced. "They've got shields against magic." A waste of breath, that was painfully obvious. They drew swords as they raced for the foot bridge.

  Xen flicked a spell ahead of his rush, and hit the two men ahead at speed. He knocked their blades aside and got his shoulder into the first to clear the path to the footbridge. A shield piercing spell?

  She growled a bit, at the cosmic injustice of what women had to do to advance.

  "Deena, head for the beach, clear out the sentries." Easterly was backing away, fending off the men behind them.

  Uphill a bit, the Wolves were forming circles. For more power. The magic is going to get really nasty in just a minute! The rest of the Wolves didn't seem to have physical shields. They attacked with simple brute force, no finesse. Three against a hundred or more. Xen was his usual deadly self, piling up the enemy until they stopped trying to close with him. Deena turned and ran. She could feel spells flying, behind her. Best to get the way cleared as fast as possible, before they brought in crossbows. Before those compasses start throwing spells. Even Xen can get worn down, and he can't hold more than three shields at once. And then he can't throw anything in return. How strong is he, compared to a mage compass? Two mage compasses? The bridge leapt beneath her feet and she glanced back. Easterly had made it to the bridge and was running across, Xen backing rapidly. She heard the howl as her feet hit the stone of the far side. The Sea Wolves were organizing for the fight. Well, we've got their attention. The seamen should be able to get away with the ship. She ran up the trail, and her other sight showed her two warm spots rushing her way. She stepped into shadow and as the first man rounded the corner, threw a stun spell. He collapsed and the second man tripped over him. Her sword hilt hit him behind the ear, and she kicked him off the path, rolling down the stony slope. The stunned guard followed him.

  She kept going, all senses alert. They'd only seen a pair of guards on their way here, but that didn't mean there weren't more.

  It was a damn long way to the beach. Coming, they'd stayed off the main trail most of the time, climbing on rocks. She spotted the narrow entry to the canyon, no warm spots. Easterly was just behind her, and Xen not far behind him. Half way down the steep canyon path, two gray and white Sea Wolves stepped out to block their path.

  "Xen, hold the top while we deal with a problem."

  "Go all the way, then signal." Xen yelled back.

  "Right. Deena, watch my left." Easterly charged down on the Sea Wolves and Deena cursed her female body again as Easterly used his reach and strength to take out the first man. Deena blocked a stab coming in low and left from the second man, then Easterly's sword came down on the top of his head. They jumped over the bodies and jogged down the trail as quietly as they could. The clash of steel echoed down the canyon. Deena could hear Easterly's heaving gulps for air over her own, and hoped his legs felt better than hers did.

  They staggered as quietly as possible down the path, skidding the final ten feet to the soft sand.
<
br />   ::Xen! Beach, now!::

  Deena winced at the mental shout. "What if he can't break away?"

  Even as they crossed to the dark surf, Deena was protesting. "We can't do it. We can't leave." She could still hear the clash of metal on metal. He couldn't break contact. A quarter mile away, perhaps. A feral howling rose from the pass behind them, like wolves up on the hill.

  Distant cheers. There was no more clash. Was he dead? Or were they playing with him?

  "You know we have to get this back to Rufi." Easterly waded out through the surf to the rock, and Deena saw the boat suddenly as Jenet held it off the rock. Easterly handed over the backpack. "Get ready to haul out of here."

  Then Easterly waded back to where she stood at the water's edge. "If this doesn't work, we're leaving anyway."

  "What?" Deena stared as he drew a wide circle in the wet sand.

  He stood with his back to the ocean, and raised his eyes to the overcast sky. "God of Spies. Hear my prayers. We have the packet and have nearly completed our duty. Come to us! Tell us that we may leave, our company intact! COME! Do not let us fail, by foolishly trying to rescue our fallen companion."

  Something dark sprawled on the sand, gasping.

  Arrows, three or four. It was hard to see, as he'd broken them off so they didn't interfere with his swing. Stab wounds. Too much blood for there to only be one. Deena threw herself down beside him and pulled out her pocket flask.

  "Drink." She dribbled wine into his mouth, listened to the ragged breathing and dribbled more.

  Easterly examined the wounds carefully, and she hoped he could see enough details, as he reached carefully for the stub of an arrow. Xen's left hand twitched, to stay him, and Deena dribbled more wine. Xen's hand flattened around one stub and he whispered, "Slowly."

  Easterly pulled, slowly, and the flesh seemed to draw back from the barbs and the seal back together. They repeated that three more times, and then Easterly picked him up carefully and waded out to the boat.

  Jenet's breath caught, and Deena stood waist deep in the water trying to steady the boat as Easterly lifted Xen over the side, then climbed in. Deena waited until his weight was on the far side, then levered herself over the side and slid limply down to sit by Xen. It wasn't until she tried to make him comfortable that she realized that his right arm was missing from a few inches down the shoulder. The Organtes wolves had wrapped a thong around the stump. To give them more time to play.

  "It doesn't work like this," Xen whispered hoarsely. "The God always goes back once the job is done."

  "Well, the job isn't done until we deliver this to Rufi, now, is it?" Easterly said.

  "Bah."

  Deena gulped. "So you need to stay with us until we get to Karista. Then you can reappear in the desolate wastes, no doubt long since abandoned by the Organtes."

  "You two are insane. You get this stuff back to Rufi and none of this Hero business, you hear me?"

  "Sorry, Xen. But like you said, the only thing worse than hurting, is having lost the ability to feel emotional and moral pain."

  "You are both bloody piss poor excuses for spies. I'll go overland to the port of Nanchez. Give me that flask."

  She handed it to him, and he was gone. She looked back to the shore, and the snap of orders and the movement of dark shapes on the strip of pale sand showed that there was no going back. She could only hope that the troops had moved away from the place from which Xen had disappeared. She leaked slow tears all the way out to the Petrel, then wiped her face and it was the professional spy that stepped aboard the swift little ship as it raised sail and slipped away west and north, outrunning the only Ogantes Navy ship that spotted them.

  Chapter Seven

  Late Winter 1397

  Cove Islands

  Kara spotted her boss down on the back stairs leading to the Palace gardens. Couldn't see who he was talking to. But she rather thought the uniform had unit designations on it, so someone with sea duty. He shifted a little, face still in the shadows, cap pulled down to further conceal his identity. But the sun winked briefly on the brass on his collar before he turned and walked down the stairs and turned into the central garden. Where he could leave by any of eight doors.

  Colonel T'Enterp moved after a long moment, walking straight ahead. He'll probably come in through the lower hall.

  So, has the boss decided that T'Sanjac is trustworthy?

  But she frowned down at the garden. Except I don't think that was T'Sanjac. But maybe the perspective fooled me.

  And it is not my business, who the colonel talks to. I report to him, not the other way around.

  She turned to find Princess Carmine watching her.

  "So, who are you spying on?"

  "Colonel T'Enterp. And whoever that was he was talking to. I'm trying to figure out who's friend and who's foe. We know there are Sea Wolves in the Navy. Someone with access to ship plans. And if they have a fleet, I suspect that they are sailing with an Islands commander."

  "Umm, yes. It's hard to imagine any Cove Islanders sailing under Organtes command." The Princess skipped over to the top of the stairs, looked around, then withdrew. "No one in sight. So, if the Colonel is talking to him where they can't be overheard, does that make him friend or foe?"

  "I wish I knew." Kara walked across the balcony and looked down on the Grand Hall.

  "There's Admiral T'Sanjac." Carmine sighed. "If I get offered up as the sacrificial marriage prize, I hope he's the one. At least he's a gentleman."

  "Oh?"

  "And he acts like I'm an intelligent human being, not a snot nose child." Carmine looked sidelong at Kara. "I don't like your boss. He's a relative of yours isn't he?"

  "Half Uncle . . . and I don't much like him, either."

  Carmine turned and faced her. "Friend or foe?"

  Kara hesitated. Put your finger right on my problem, didn't you? "I don't know. And . . . if the Navy's Head of Intel is compromised . . . I'd better figure out how to find out."

  Carmine eyed her. "And how to prove it."

  "Yeah." Kara leaned her elbows on the rail. There he was, coming in from the lower hall.

  Two other uniformed men came from the other direction. They stopped to talk to T'Sanjac. The blonde had his cap under his arm, the darker officer was fidgeting with his in his right hand.

  Kara squinted. "I can't see the blonde one's rank tabs . . . Oh, that's Boris L'Kitha. Admiral L'Kitha. Slimmed down a lot, hasn't he?"

  Carmine snickered. "Yeah my dad always called him Boris ball. He served under my dad, so he got invited to all of dad's birthday parties and stuff. He . . . spoke at the funeral."

  Kara was searching her memory. "He's been on Admiralty business . . . I wonder what? He's been coming and going a lot."

  Carmine shot her a look, and nodded. "I'll bet he'll be at dinner tonight. His father and the king were friends before . . . everything."

  Before the assassination. Before Milo became king.

  The trio below split up. Boris and his companion walked past Colonel T'Entrep without a glance. The colonel intercepted Admiral T'Sanjac, they were speaking as they walked out of sight.

  Carmine sighed. "I hope T'Sanjac is one of the good guys."

  Kara nodded. The Colonel doesn't trust him. And I don't know if that is good or bad.

  Chapter Eight

  Fashir State, Organtes

  Southern Hemisphere Summer 1397

  The transition from cold hard wooden hull to cold hard rock was not pleasant. The lack of a welcoming committee was pure nirvana. Xen looked around, trying hard to not remember any details of the last few minutes before Easterly's brilliant . . . he edged around a dead Sea Wolf and picked up his arm. His father's old Earth books had spoken of reattachment. The cells didn't die all that fast . . .

  He pulled in his magic, to let nothing leak. Pulled harder. He'd never thought to look at what the wine in action looked like, magically. He staggered up the trail, out of the canyon and off the trail to some rocks where he wou
ld hopefully be out of sight and sprinkled a bit of Deena's wine on the bloody stump, then laid down to match up the little bit of arm still attached to his shoulder. The Sea Wolves had tightened a thong around it, the better to prolong his death. He hadn't had any doubts about their intentions, they hadn't been taking prisoners. He closed his eyes and practiced slow breathing and pain control. He thought carefully about Q's use of telekinesis in medical matters. Could he look small at himself? That small? He knew he could repair major blood vessels, wodge them back together so he didn't bleed to death. But could he repair a whole bunch of them well enough to circulate blood and not leak? Too much? He could see the blood vessels that needed to match up in order to heal. But nerves? And bone, it wouldn't do to forget bone.

  Start with the major veins and arteries. Then keep going.

  He visualized, or perhaps just daydreamed and imagined for awhile. He pulled a little dagger from his boot and cut the thong. He was going to be in trouble if it started spurting . . . but it didn't. The blood seemed to be circulating all right, except close to the slice . . . he crystallized calcium carbonate across the bone, stuck muscle fibers together . . . When he heard returning boots, lots, he started back awake, and lay motionless until the footsteps died away. Then he slipped away into the cracks and clefts in the cliffs, away from where he'd been trapped, and cut to the east, hopefully away from any returning Organtes. And his arm came with him, attached, but whether alive or dead he had no idea. He shoved the flopping hand through a rip in his jacket and kept going. With luck there were enough scavengers around that the Organtes would figure his arm had been dragged off and eaten.

  He half circled the rocky knob, and went to ground where a seep of water lubricated his parched mouth, even though it was insufficient to quench his thirst. The sun found his little crack late in the morning and woke him. He soaked it up hungrily, and remembered that he had no food left. He'd definitely have to move tonight. Squeezing the fingers of his right hand, made the color come and go in the fingertips. The limb was warm. Pity he couldn't feel a thing. He sipped a bit of wine, and took inventory. Very bloody and ragged invisible clothing. A tin cup, which he immediately bent to fit under his seep of water. Three small daggers hidden variously about his gear. A coil of thin rope. A ridiculous amount of money. No sword. No doubt the Organtes or the Sea Wolves had it. It was probably a good thing they hadn't decided to take his arm back to their leader as a trophy with it.