by John F. Carr
"Wizard Traders. You mean slave traders, Verkan. We busted that outfit up just before I retired as Chief."
"You weren't so sure a year ago. True, we arrested the obvious ones; those who were passing themselves off as wizards on backward Third and Fourth Level worlds, using their privileges to steal forbidden artifacts and buy and sell people to unscrupulous Home Timeliners. Plus, a couple of First Level dupes, who were manning their secret conveyer heads. Now, we've uncovered evidence that they may be connected to the Opposition Party. Remember how you always told me 'follow the money trail.' I've been following your advice and we've found some evidence that much of it went into the Opposition Party coffers."
"But that doesn't make sense, Verkan. The Oppositionists run on a policy of non-interference and prole equal representation. You're trying to tell me that blood money has been paying for prole equality votes?"
"I think you've been on this big island for too long. Yes, I do. Don't you remember: the end justifies the means. The lesser evil for the greater good!"
"Maybe I have been outtime too long. Could this be the break we've been looking for, Verkan? Get word of this out to our friends in the media and we can break their backs once and for all."
"Break is not the right word. The Opposition Party has been gaining adherents and I'm afraid they may well find a way to point the blame right back at the Department."
"How? We've never been linked to the Oppositionists-just the opposite."
"True, but it did happen on our watch. Didn't it?"
"Don't look at me like that, old son. It's not my watch anymore. I've got some grapes to harvest."
"What should I do about it?"
"What you have to do, according to your commission. You're the top Paracop. Find out who they are, who's supporting them; then root them out. Who's your goat?"
"Hadron Tharn."
"That fatuous prig," Tortha said. "Your brother-in-law's not smart enough to be behind stale bread much less the Wizard Traders."
"He's not behind them, but we've linked one of the Wizard Traders to his University action team."
"You mean that University of Dhergabar crowd that's been crying about Paratime Police barriers to First Level outtime studies?"
"Same group, Tortha. I'd like to hijack the whole lot and dump them on a time-line where the locals have had a brush with the Wizard Traders. The survivors would come back a lot wiser."
"It's too bad they used hypno-conditioning to commit suicide."
"We never got all the trigger words, Verkan said, lighting his pipe. "Everyone of the important Wizard Traders committed suicide, when one of the implanted suggestions froze the Vagas Nerve-instant heart attack." Verkan shook his head. "No two of them shared the same trigger words either; it left the experts at Bureau of Psychological Hygiene in a state of paralysis. The rest of the Wizard Traders were just proles doing a job. I'm still getting bad press over the casualties."
"Not your fault, Verkan," Tortha said, shaking his head. "It does lend credence to the big conspiracy theory, though. That kind of deep conditioning doesn't come cheap. Anything more?"
"Yes, we've traced a new batch of Wizard Traders to Aryan-Transpacific."
Tortha's mouth dropped open. "Already!"
"Yes, they've gotten into bed with Styphon's House on every time-line they've entered. Trading the upper priests weapons technology in exchange for young bodies and precious metals."
"Have they penetrated the Kalvan Time-Line?"
"No. Although, we do have a potential spy on one of the University study teams."
"Why don't you bring him in for questioning?"
"It's a she. And we don't have any evidence other than a family relationship with Hadron Tharn. We do have an agent on the Kalvan Study Team keeping an eye on her. Besides, Tharn is too flighty to set up and run any decent spy ring. We suspect she's a red herring, as it's called on Fourth Level, Europo-American. Just as Tharn himself is a cat's-paw to lead us astray."
"From what?"
"A potentially embarrassing incident or some other criminal enterprise."
"Good hunting," Tortha said, shaking his head. "Every time I start to think back fondly of my time Chief, you come along and remind me of why I retired."
"Tortha!" one of the girls called. "It's time for our swimming lessons. Will you be joining us?"
"Yes, of course. Must not neglect my guests. Please, excuse me Verkan, but I've got my duties here to contend with. Let me know if there is anything I can do to help."
Verkan nodded, as Tortha waddled off with a girl tucked under each arm. He wondered whom the show was for, him or Tortha? It must be tough, Verkan thought, trying to have a good time twenty-four hours a day. I'll have to try it sometime!
II
Warchief Ranjar Sargos watched in red anger as Vanar Halgoth's niece, Althea was helped into the tribal longhouse. One of Althea's eyes was blackened, her face was covered with scratches and welts, her long blond hair was crusted with blood and her arm was bound in a fresh splint. Yet, despite all the obvious damage and the pain she was in, Althea stood proudly and defiantly as she approached the tribal Table of Judges. Sargos also noticed the admiration shining in his eldest son, Bargoth's eyes, as he sat at his side and watched the maiden-well, former maiden, approaching the Table. She was a comely woman with long legs and wide hips, good for both bundling and bearing many children.
Althea was the last of the Burgdun stragglers who had come into the Raven Tribe's winter camp. The Raven Tribe, who now numbered over two hundred fighting men, was the largest and most successful tribe of the Tymannes Clan. The Burgduns were people of another, but smaller related clan, whose winter camp rested west of their own. Two days ago the Burgduns had been attacked by a large band of Ruthani from across the Great River. According to the survivors, all the Burgdun males over the age of eight had been killed and the women taken captive.
The winter camp had been in an uproar ever since the first survivors had arrived. Many of the Tymannes had kin among the Burgdun Clan and the tales of rapine and murder had impassioned the tribe. Sargos was holding a council to determine what the Raven Tribe's response would be to atrocities committed upon their neighbors. He had already decided upon revenge; now, he had to convince the tribal Elders that this was the best course. He had chosen Althea carefully, knowing full well that having a beautiful young girl as his primary witness would help bend the Elders to his will.
He nodded to Ikkos, who was helping steady the girl. Halgoth, his old friend, came forward. "Warchief, the maiden Althea would like to speak before the Council. May she have your permission?"
"Speak, Maiden Althea. The Council of Elders of the Raven Tribe, First Tribe among the Clan of the Tymannes, will hear your words."
Althea paused, as though to collect her wits, and began to speak, directing her words to Sargos. "As you have heard, our tribe was attacked early in the morning by a large band of Ruthani raiders. Our tribesmen fought well, many of the redmen were killed and sent to Wind. But our warriors were outnumbered"-she paused to hold up her good hand, spreading out all five fingers-"by five times their number. Those who asked for quarter were taken prisoner, then murdered in cold blood by the Ruthani."
There was a collective gasp among the tribal Elders at this breach of honor. Sargos could see they were impressed by the girl's straightforward and unemotional speech.
"All male children, older than six winters, were also slain," Althea said, tears leaking now from her eyes, but her voice still steady. "The women and girls, even those as young as ten winters, were taken into the longhouses and made sport of."
"Curse, these spawn of Styphon!" one of the Elders cried. All knew that Styphon was not a god of the Ruthani Grassmen, but to the Tymannes, the false-god Styphon-patron of the Black Knights-was a prince among the demons of the underworld.
"Despoilers of young girls; they deserve no mercy!" Another shouted.
Sargos could hear Ikkos-who also had eyes for Althea-grind his teeth, w
hile his son made growling noises at the back of his throat.
"I was taken to the chief's longhouse, the house of my father." Althea was openly weeping, but her voice was strong. She was doing a much better job of telling her story than Sargos had hoped for. All her listeners knew full well what was left unsaid and it further inflamed their passions, whereas an emotional recital would have left them far less moved.
"When my captor fell into a drunken sleep, I found the talisman stone of our tribe."
Sargos was familiar with the Burgdun's talisman, a round river stone the size of a child's skull, painted with the face of a horned owl. He nodded for her to continue.
"I took the stone and smashed it into his head-again and again and again!" Her voice was beginning to rise.
Sargos nodded again and she stopped. He noticed Bargoth's eyes were round in appreciation. Despite her dishonor, he decided, Althea would make Bargoth a good wife and bring forth many strong sons to honor the Raven banner. If such a union were proposed, he would give it his blessing. If not, he would encourage it.
"It was late at night and the moon was gone. I slipped out of the long-house and used the shortcut to the river. They only had two guards on the banks, and both were asleep. I used the chief's knife to slit their throats."
There was a rumble of appreciation from the Elders. Few women would have had the nerve or discipline to kill the guards.
Althea continued, "I took one of their canoes, after releasing the others, and went downstream. Then I doubled back and came to your camp. I pray to the goddess that you will avenge our people."
Sargos nodded his approval of her request. He noticed that all but one or two of the Elders had reflexively followed his lead. Althea had made her case, and his, far better than he had expected.
"You are dismissed. We will ponder your words."
She nodded submissively, as was proper, and left the longhouse with Ikkos and her uncle.
Vanar Halgoth, his massive body looming over the Elders, came back into the longhouse and stood before the Council. "Blood of our blood has been spilled by Grassmen from beyond the Great River. My niece has only told you what the others have reported. She has shown honor and courage; it is our duty to avenge their deaths!"
Several Elders grumbled their approval.
Sargos stood up. "Althea is a brave maiden and has won her honor back by the death of the Ruthani chieftain and her bravery in escaping her captors. I would not expect more from my own daughter. If her uncle, were not already caring for her; I would adopt her into my own family and thereby honor her courage."
The assembled Elders nodded their agreement.
"Of course, my son might not agree with that decision."
Several of the Elders laughed, acknowledging that Bargoth's eyes for Althea had not gone unnoticed. His son turned bright red, but held his tongue-which was as it should be and why Sargos had allowed Bargoth to attend the Council meeting. He could see that the other Elders were pleased with his son's restraint. This would be remembered when he was killed in battle or became too old to ride a horse and heft a sword.
"I say we should gather the warriors of the tribe and avenge our friends and kinsmen. All those in favor of war against the Ruthani invaders raise your knives."
Of the thirty assembled Elders all but three, which included his son who was not yet a formal member of the Council, raised their knives."
"It is done. The Council is dismissed. Bargoth, you and Ikkos, bring the other sub-chiefs to the longhouse. It is time to plan this raid."
TWO
I
Great King Kalvan looked down from the small window in his war room, at the top of the Tarr-Hostigos keep, watching a company of Queen Rylla's Lifeguard marching in formation. The Lifeguard was an elite bodyguard of riflemen who were supposed to serve as bodyguards for the Great Queen and their daughter, Demia, but Rylla was already talking about the role they would soon be playing in spearheading the spring campaigns. This year, her pregnancy had kept Rylla out of the battle line; next year, Kalvan wondered how he would keep her castle-bound.
Ever since Kalvan's arrival, here-and-now, when he was picked up by some kind of time-traveling flying saucer from a small farm outside State College, Pennsylvania-Kalvan, formerly Corporal Calvin Morrison of the Pennsylvania State Police, had been reacting to events beyond his control. First, he'd had to shoot his way off the flying saucer, or whatever it was, then survive by his wits in an alternate Pennsylvania where time had stood still. The local inhabitants of the Princedom of Hostigos, about to be conquered by their neighbors, welcomed any help they could get. Kalvan, with some knowledge-both academic and practical, having fought in Korea-was able to win several crucial battles. After this initial success, Hostigos seceded from Hos-Harphax, forming the new Great Kingdom of Hos-Hostigos. Kalvan crowned himself Great King and prepared to defend his new kingdom with everything but the proverbial kitchen sink.
The following spring, luck again-and stupidity on his opponent's part-had allowed Kalvan to defeat the more numerous Holy Host at the Battle Of Phyrax. So far, the defeat of their best troops, the fall rains and the illness of Great King Kaiphranos, ruler of Hos-Harphax, had conspired to keep the forces of Styphon at home. Now, he had to learn everything that was known about the history of here-and-now if he was going to find some angle that could help his fledgling new kingdom survive against the wealth, political influence and all the military might Styphon's House's gold could buy.
From what Kalvan had been able to piece together from oral history, a few old parchments from Tarr-Beshta and local legends, a large group of Indo-Aryans had migrated east into China, rather than south and west into Macedonia, Greece and the Anatolian peninsula. After crossing the Asian land mass, some of the migrating tribes had built small ships and sailed their way along the Kuriles and the Aleutians, down the coast of Alaska and Canada, bringing with them their foods, horses and cattle, their iron-making skills, and their weapons, the battle ax and the sword.
From ancient parchments recently discovered amongst the rat's-nest of former Prince Balthames' treasury-which included everything from gold ingots to the former Prince's baby teeth-Kalvan had learned new information about these early migrations. There hadn't been just one big migration, but a series of smaller ones. The first Indo-Aryan invaders had landed in the Pacific Northwest. Some tribes remained in the northern forests, while others broke off and moved into the Upper Plains. The majority continued along the Pacific Coast, the women and children in boats and the men following along on shore, much like the movement of the Sea Peoples in the Mediterranean after the eruption of Thera on Crete. Along the way, they subdued the coastal Indian tribes, while settling in their former habitats.
The majority of these migrants settled along the coast of California, primarily around the harbors of San Francisco and San Diego, while building others at Long Beach and San Pedro. There they established colonies of sea trading city-states along the lines of the early Minoan civilization. The Ros-Zarthani, as they called themselves, exterminated and enslaved the primitive local Indians and began to send out fishing and trading ships. They quickly established trade with their northern cousins, who lived a more tribal and agrarian life. The southern cities traded manufactured products and grains for lumber, smoked salmon and furs.
A thousand years later, a second series of Indo-Aryan migrations followed in the footsteps of the earlier settlers. These new invaders-unlike the Ros-Zarthani, who spoke an early proto Greek dialect-spoke a very early Germanic tongue. Centuries of inter-action and inter-marriage had changed both languages, but the Urgothi still had a separate language.
Discovering the Pacific seacoast already populated and well-defended, the Urgothi peoples moved east and south, some drifting into the Great Plains, known here-and-now as the Sea of Grass, while other Urgothi followed the tributaries of the Missouri and Mississippi into the Great Lakes area and Mississippi Valley, where they founded what were known as the Middle Kingdoms. Following what
Kalvan's world had called the Marius Trail, the Urgothi had established trade routes with the major city-states along the Pacific coast. Trade was sporadic until the Great Lakes iron ore deposits were discovered in Grefftscharr about fifteen hundred years ago. Within a century, the Great Trail became a major trade link between the gold hungry Middle Kingdoms and the iron poor Pacific Coast city-states. The Middle Kingdom kings had made treaties with some of the Plains Indian tribes, conquered others and paid tribute only when necessary. Some of the great trade caravans that Kalvan read about numbered hundreds of wagons guarded by small armies of guards and soldiers.
The most recent migration wasn't from Euro-Asia, but began six hundred years ago, when the Pacific Coast civilization, in flux due to a war between north and south, began to crumble. Tens of thousands of migrants poured over the Iron Trail. Not wanting these heavily armed and desperate invaders settling within the Middle Kingdoms, King Chaldorec had decided to help them move into the Atlantic Seaboard. His plan was to use the migrating Ros-Zarthani as a buffer to the quickly expanding Iroquois Alliance in the east. The migrations, which started as a trickle, soon turned into a flood. The war with the Eastern Ruthani, or Redmen, became a war to the death as both peoples realized they could not live in peace. The conflict ran almost a century and didn't end until the Iroquois were virtually exterminated, with the survivors escaping into Newfoundland and Labrador.
The final migration occurred after the destruction of the Ruthani, and the Ros-Zarthani settlement of the Eastern Seaboard. The latest refugees from the war-ravaged Pacific Coast were forced to make their way down the Potomac into Maryland and Virginia, to what would later become Hos-Ktemnos. The mid-Atlantic Ruthani were far less warlike and organized than their eastern cousins and were quickly exterminated or displaced to the south. It was during the settlement of Hos-Ktemnos that a temple priest of a minor healer god named Styphon discovered the formula for gunpowder, or fireseed, as it was called here-and-now. The temple hierarchy had immediately grasped the political implications of this new discovery and made it a church secret. Over the next centuries, they dispensed gunpowder to their allies and withheld it from their enemies, using the revenue and their military might to consolidate political dominion over Hos-Ktemnos. They were in the process of moving their tentacles into Hos-Harphax, when Kalvan had taken his cross-time ride and been dropped off into the middle of a war between the independent Princedom of Hostigos and the neighboring minions of Styphon's House.