by Pam Uphoff
"The Cific side is back to normal, although trade is still a bit slow. The Kara sea side seems to be working, although again, there's not a lot of goods moving."
"Right. I'll sail down the coast and see what happens." He saluted properly—Burris had a reputation as a stickler for the formalities—and was dismissed.
Outside the Head Quarters building, Lefty headed around the block to Rufi's mansion and stable on the far side of the King's square mile.
He wasn't surprised when a slender figure in brown showed up at his elbow. Question had a lot more curves than when he'd first met her. Can it possibly have been twenty-four years ago that I met that feisty little girl? Must be, since I'm about to miss our son's fifteenth birthday . . .
"I think I need to talk to Wolf and Romeau about Pax." He sighed. "And then go find out what's happening down in Fascia."
She eyed him. "Not alone."
"You can't come."
"You can't stop me."
He sighed. "I really ought to have started out as a brutal, domineering type of husband. Pity I'm so terrified of your father."
Question snorted. "Afraid he's going to lecture you about vibrations?"
"Err . . . no. When it comes to mistreating his daughter, lectures are not what would happen. I really do need to spend more time up there." They turned the corner. The mansion was just up the street, the home of the King's older half brother, the spear, the commander of the Armies, and his understudy, the spear prince, they called him. Fossi Fitzroy. The crown prince's elder son Staven, the next heir in line for the spear was only six years old, and lived with his mother.
The stable beyond the mansion held some of the finest horses in the world. And the end of a magic transdimensional corridor.
They stepped through the illusion over it and out into a walled yard high in the foothills, over eight hundred miles from the city.
They saddled a pair of horses and rode into the village. Lefty blinked at a bare square hole in the ground.
"Harry moved the Tavern over to that place where Rustle opened all her gates, when she was learning how to do it." Question's voice was nonchalant, but her mouth quivered with the effort to not laugh. "I know. It's a bit of a shock. But the other gods just shrug and say that of course they move occasionally."
Lefty eyed the hole, and then the herb garden across the side street. "The tavern's bad enough. Does Lady Gisele move her entire garden? And what about the vineyard?"
A cackle from the little hut nestled among the fragrant shrubbery. "We replant. I've abandoned more herb gardens than Wolf's given up his precious grapes and redwoods." The little old lady stuck her head out the door. "Mind you, we take plenty of cuttings and seeds."
"Of course." They must have come here after the Comet fell a thousand years ago.
A snort. "Oh, Wolf and I were in Scoone for almost two centuries, and Harry and Chance travelled about and popped in occasionally. Wolf moved here first and once there was a road of sorts—Wolf travelled around a bit, and he knows Harry can find roads—Harry moved the Tavern. And . . . I finally admitted that Scoone was a disastrous tyranny and came away so I didn't have to see it fall."
Lefty searched his memory, but the dates were all approximate. "Can't have been too long before Nil came, with his wizard goats."
"Oh, thirty years, maybe?" She waved a hand. "Ancient history, who cares anymore?"
"Historians."
The Goddess of Health and Fertility cackled and ducked back into her hut.
Lefty looked over at Question. "What do you want to bet that hut was built crooked, just for the fun of it, fourteen centuries ago?"
Question snickered. "No doubt in my mind."
The God of War was tying up grape tendrils and pruning the extra branches. Must be peaceful, on the southern border.
The old man looked over at them. "The border, yes. All the various little soltis are trying to grab territory or establish defensible borders, so they're leaving the kingdom alone, for now. It looks like they'll be settling into six or seven nations or loose federations."
"Rufi's worried about Fascia. About who's in control, if the Oners, the Amma, and Pax have returned, or whether the kidnapped Earther soldiers are influencing things there."
The Auld Wulf scratched his beard. "Why don't we take a look?" He slanted a glance toward Question.
"Yes, I want to go too."
And the sun leaped westward and brightened as a gust of warm humid air engulfed them.
Plastered walls surrounded them, standing now in a dried and neglected garden.
"Pax lived here long enough that it's a bright recognition spot. He never had a permanent home, like Harry and I did. It's already starting to fade though. He hasn't been here for months. I don't think they came back from Earth."
Lefty turned and eyed the house behind them. "I would have expected something larger, grander."
"Pax hated to have people around him. He was a bit paranoid. Servants would be spying on him or stealing from him. Maintaining friendships was too much work. He was the most antisocial of any of us. He used people, and discarded them at the first sign of an attempt to get close."
Question unlatched the gate and looked out at the street. "Good neighborhood. I think. The walls are high and well maintained, at any rate."
Lefty followed her out.
"Call me if you need a ride home."
He glanced back. The old god was gone.
Question grinned. "Let go exploring. If that's the palace up on the hill?"
"Yep." Lefty looked around, shuddered. I was ten when I was captured in a raid by Auralians. Emasculated and sold to a minor solti who lived not far from here. I suspect I'm still a wanted murderer, so I'd best not get myself noticed.
He'd prowled and spied on the Earthers before the comet enough that he recognized one of the soldiers guarding the palace gates. The man was in the Amma's uniform, and wore his sword awkwardly. He clearly had little training with it. But the new Amma has integrated him into his private guards? Lefty eyed the other guards. Also acting like the swords were irritating impediments, dangling from their belts, banging at their thighs.
Lefty and Question, with light warped around themselves, ghosted quietly past them and into the Palace proper.
And here was the Amma, on his throne, all the local magnates arguing before him. He looks the part. Right coloring and general features. Body language all wrong, and I think the boy beside him is translating the local Arab and Spanish heavy dialect into straight English.
He nudged Question away, and they prowled the back hallways. Found a group planning dams and irrigation networks. Another with a map of the city all marked up with lines labeled "sewer" and "water." A classroom. Unguarded harem complexes, some occupied by local women and children, others turned into offices and barracks.
Question pulled him into an empty room. "What's going on? They aren't planning any sort of conquest."
"It's like they're planning on staying, and improving things. Not that conquerors don't do things like that, but usually with a lot more weaponry and intimidation."
"And the Amma . . . he's an Earther, too. Is he pretending to be the Amma's son?"
Lefty nodded. "Looks like it, doesn't it? I know the old Amma and the Oners went through the gate. Isn't it working any more? Let's go down and look at the Earthers' camp next."
The camp was nearly empty. A single squad patrolled the wide circle of tall dried grass. Four months of tropical heat had killed the tough grasses that had thrived a few miles away from the northern icecap. The gate building at the end of the central road was closed, the dust lay undisturbed in front of it.
Question eyed the empty camp. "No equipment, no weapons. They're stuck here."
Lefty nodded. "But you know what? They appear to be trying to improve it. I think I'll recommend to Rufi that we let them get on with it."
"Earth will find us again. Sometime. They must be looking for their soldiers."
"When they do, we'
ll deal with whatever they do, then." Lefty straightened. "Let's go see if they're actually building any of the things they're planning."
They prowled the hills to check out the small dams going in, and back in town they explored the Oners' deserted embassy building. They practiced their slice spells on the Oners' gate anchor, just in case it was still working.
They lived in Pax's home, when they were in town, and Lefty sold gold slugs so they could pay for food. The only attention they drew was criticism of Question running around in pants. They prowled the Palace and picked up names; more confirmation of the lack of contact with Earth. Learning about the Auralian's treatment of the soldiers they'd kidnapped and enslaved had Lefty shivering and nauseous. After a sleepless night, Lefty gave up and called the God of War. He had all the information Rufi needed. And Question was showing signs of missing her son. Not that she'd ever admit to maternal impulses . . .
The Auld Wulf took them to the Tavern.
It was definitely odd, seeing the familiar building sitting just off the Old North Road, facing the wrong way, surrounded by nothing but rolling hills.
And inside, familiar faces.
Jek jumped up and hugged them both. I need to visit more often, stay longer. He's fifteen already! Dydit and Never, Rustle with a six month old baby, her son Xen must be six but looked a bit less. Topaz, Never and Dydit's eleven year old daughter Three giggling teenage witches peering through the kitchen door. Question's youngest sister, Dydit and Never's second daughter, and the third girl was probably the third of their triad. Witch cooking contests. How can everything be so normal?
Little Xen grinned. "We've got a corridor from the Grange barn to the outside wall here. So we can still come for dinner."
Question grabbed a chair from the next table and pulled it around. "When did you do that?"
"Two weeks ago." Never shrugged. "Can't let Harry get all lonely out here."
Then he reported in to General Rufi.
Who was delighted that the Earthers were, so to speak, gainfully employed.
"We'll just keep an eye on them. Much though I hope Earth won't find us again, we can't count on it." He turned to Colonel Burris. "Set up a good way to monitor them."
The Colonel nodded, and in turn looked at a young lieutenant. "Wacolm, go pry into Major Lebonift's memories and see what looks like a good way to keep an eye on them."
Lefty grinned at the alarmed expression on the young man's face. And led him off for lunch at the Sooty Duck. The men he'd hoped for were there. He sat down with his back to Damien Malder. His opportunity had come quickly. They ordered and he talked straight through lunch.
" . . . poor sods, I figure they must not have the wine of the gods down there."
Wacolm snorted. "Who cares. Bloody invaders, anyway you look at it, they deserved to get eaten by a larger predator." And stepping outside. "And you have incredibly bad tastes in taverns."
Lefty grinned. "You see those pinto horses?"
"Damn Travelers."
"Nope. Damned Earther moles. Just watch that dark haired fellow who sat at the table right behind me. He'll be headed for Fascia with magic wine as soon as the weather permits. Betcha."
Wacolm turned and glared at him. "You told him that on purpose."
"Yep. I don't like the way Auralians deal with captives. And that lot actually appeared to be doing good. So I'm helping the individuals. Not the Earth itself, so stop glaring."
"So if you know them so well, when do you think they'll be leaving?"
"It's too hot, right now. If he's going to go check, it'll be this fall, and probably take him all winter."
Wacolm tossed a look at the pintos, and sneered. "And spring. Fat chance he'll try to cross the desert next summer, so he'll be gone a year and a half. Will he risk missing that much information about us?"
"There's two others. And yes Rufi's got them watched."
***
"Whoa!"
Jaime looked closer when the wagon that had been passing by the palace gates stopped abruptly. The driver stared past him . . . Corporal Harbin stepped around Jaime and frowned at the driver. "Sergeant Malder, fancy meeting you here."
"Oh, ho!" Ralph kept his voice down. "I've heard of him, he's one of the long term moles in the West."
"So, what are you doing here?"
Malder looked fit, perhaps, thirty years old, olive complexion and black hair. He looked like a native. "Trying to find out what happened in Asia and if our gate anchor actually got teleported down here, like the local intel types claim. Good to see you again George."
"Hey. Teleportation? Beats the hell out of me. We all went to sleep and woke up in slave cages." He scowled. "This sick society . . . "
"Ah. Yeah I've heard about what they do to slaves. Got some magic wine you'll just love." The driver's eyes crinkled a bit. "So, who is in charge?"
"Captain Orobona." The corporal climbed up into the wagon. "That way."
It was a hell of a party.
Well underway by the time their squad was off duty.
Jaime blinked at the chaos. The harem widows seem to have tossed their inhibitions and the troops . . . seemed to have forgotten they'd been castrated.
They were hauled over to the big bowl of punch.
"You guys have got to try this stuff! That Damien spiked it with what he called Havwee Temple water and ooo weee!"
"Well, a good drunk never hurt anyone." Jaime looked over at the horse trough sized punchbowl. One widow was pouring a bottle of red wine into the bowl, as another scooped and filled glasses.
The first taste took his breath away. The second had him admiring feminine curves, and he didn't really remember the third. Just a sudden interest in women, and especially the two who giggled and led him off to the side . . . And then there was something in there about chains and dog piles and more women and . . . the hangover the next morning was brutal. About half the women fled back into purdah, the others stuck with the guys. Or some of them. Jaime looked a little wishfully at the lucky fellows with women clinging to them, and headed for his own quarters to suffer for a few more hours.
Malder spent a few days with the captain, then took a small boat to the west. Apparently the fastest way to get home was to sail to "the Narrows," more or less Panama, caravan across to the Cific and take another boat north.
Morale improved, especially among the guys. Especially after the rumors that the wine would trigger regeneration proved true. If painful. Testicles, all new, if somewhat undersized, dropped down out of wherever they'd been while growing. Inside of six months, they seemed completely normal. Everything worked quite well. The widows split between bouncy and bright-eyed attendance on their favorite fellows, and making sure the new equipment was in working order, and the ones who pretended it hadn't happened.
There were a lot more marriages. Mostly between the Earther guys and the widows. Nine months later there were babies everywhere. Lots of proud papas, although some were simply relieved by proof of their renewed fertility. Jaime admired the babies of the women he remembered from that glorious party . . . and hadn't the faintest idea if either was his. Neither of the women showed the faintest interest in an ongoing relationship.
Drat. And they've even got a bit of glow . . . I wonder why there aren't any trained witches and wizards down here? He looked at his own hands. When he was out on his own, he still practiced what little he could do. And he was much better at it than his feeble early attempts. He just didn't have any further ideas about what to do.
Jamie hadn’t had the desire to pursue one of the Earther women before Malder’s magic wine, and now all but one was married. And Devvy Tripp didn't look interested in anyone. He added a knowledge of brothels to his list of good cantinas . . . the openly subservient and covertly manipulative nature of so many of the local women bothered him. I grew up on Earth, dammit, where women are equals and damn fine ones, but they don't glow. So, where do I go to find women with both glow and honor? Honesty? Independence? Self respect? Whatever
it's called, these women don't have it.
The Earthers settled in for the long term, turning the Amma’s Palace into apartments and family homes.
The soldiers in Asia finally decided to join them; they had a boat that had been abandoned before the comet. They sailed it across the Pacific, and then hugged the coast south and around the horn and up the east coast of South America. Just thirteen of them, they slowly integrated into the odd hybrid culture that was springing up where the very odd Amma had control.
They managed diplomacy with their neighboring small states, rather than warfare, mainly because they had no desire to control the whole of the old Auralian area. But all around the edges, areas started joining them and their new economy.
And one day Jaime noticed Kenton glowing. He found a reason to haul him out of the city for as much of a magic lesson as Jaime could manage.
"Some days I wish we'd contacted the Kingdom of the West. They had a ton of trained magicians. Of course they might not have taught outsiders, but all I have to go on is a few off hand remarks. So . . . hold out your hands and 'strangle' some sunlight . . . "
And they guarded the gate anchor. At first they kept it powered up constantly. They finally admitted it wasn't going to light up "any minute now," and started the standard marooning protocols. They fired it up every Solstice and every Equinox. The four times every year the Gate Authority actively looked for lost explorers.
Six years since they'd been snatched. Still nothing from Earth.
They added more territory, built more dams, more sewers, more schools and medical clinics. And they started diplomatic missions to Verona and the Kingdom of the West.
Chapter Four
13 April 3505 ce
Spring 1386 px
Cadent, Capital city of the Empire of Verona
The trip to Cadent was interesting. The mid-continent spreading ridge that split this world's North American continent hit the Gulf of Mexico around where New Orleans ought to be, and then jagged westward in a series of volcanic islands. It went ashore in central Mexico, with a fault zone and more volcanoes, then entered the Pacific Ocean—the Cific, in local parlance—to join up with the East Pacific rise he was familiar with from his own geography lessons.