by Pam Uphoff
It wasn't going to save the bandits, but it was going to cost lives, getting over or through it.
Sergeant Shone grinned. "Let's just see if they've left their backsides exposed."
***
Garit's stomach was in a knot as they moved in, slowly and carefully, on the bandits. Sommers was shifting half his troops around to come at the bandits from upstream, where they had no fortifications. Why would they need any? This ground is treacherous. They led their horses, following the scouts who'd managed a bit of trail work on the worst parts while they waited for the rest of the troops. His riding boots slipped a bit on the sloped granite, and Clowny's shod hooves clattered and slid. Then they were off that solid rock and back into the rubble. A narrow trail, where the worst of the pointy shards had been upended and packed into the worst of the holes, took them down and along a snow fed stream. The rest of the scouts, including Xen, were down in a flat wooded spot. Through the last of the trees, they had a good view of the valley. Log cabins and tree stumps. Makeshift lean-to shelters for a herd of horses. A sudden burst of masculine laughter broke the quiet.
Xen eased over to the colonel. "They've got their hostages in the second cabin from the left. After sundown it would be easy enough to get them out of there. They are not terribly alert."
The colonel slanted a glance his direction, then shook his head. "Just before dawn. Major Jeffries will be attacking the gate on the far side at dawn. We'll be moving in on them, and charge when the alarm goes up." His mouth quirked up. "Then you and two scouts can ease up close, and defend that cabin. So we don't have to worry about hostages."
Xen nodded, looking reluctant.
Garit didn't understand until, in the quiet of the night, he could hear the stifled crying. And see the bandits stopping by. One more night. Sorry, sorry, but we can't fight them in the pitch black.
He slept fitfully. Watched Xen and two scouts fade into the darkness. Saddled up as quietly as possible. The trees would soften a lot of noises, but there was a limit. At least they were on a bed of pine needles. No sound from the horses' iron shoes, as they led them through the trees. They mounted, formed a line, four deep. The sun topped the mountains behind them. They would be invisible in the shadow of the trees.
A sudden clamor from the west. Men erupted from the cabins, swords in hand, running for the front gate.
"Lances up. At the trot." A soft call from the colonel.
They trotted down the slight slope, winding through stumps.
Another yell; men turned. They'd been spotted.
"Lances braced, charge!"
It was carnage. They took out half of the bandits in the first charge, then formed up for a second charge back up the valley. Garit spotted one group of outlaws attacking the cabin of the hostages. Xen's tall figure stood in the doorway. Bodies littered the ground, as two bandits surged forward together. Neither survived the attempt. Garit pulled his attention back to his own immediate concerns. He turned Joker and thumped a bandit with the splintered butt of his lance. It was enough to interrupt the bandit's swing at a soldier. Another trooper charged in from the side and ran the bandit through.
By the time the sun was a quarter of the way up the sky, they had control of the valley and were just pulling the last few bandits out of hidey holes. Garit was sent with a few men to move their gear.
Searching his memory.
He'd fought, injured several bandits . . . hadn't killed any outright . . . I'm not pulling my weight, not . . . a real soldier. Am I timid? I just fought. Do I need to think about killing them? Deliberately go for fatal strokes? There really wasn't time for that sort of thing! Damn it. I am not a coward!
He stopped at the door of the hostages' cabin. Eighteen bodies.
The scout outside the front door shrugged. "We cut a few throats, there were bandits inside. Lieutenant Wolfson . . . took care of the ones that tried to get in. All by himself." His eye shifted uncertainly toward one of the bodies. It had some bad burns.
"Fell in the fireplace?"
"Err, not exactly, sir." His gaze was uneasy as he glanced toward Xen.
Xen threw him in the fireplace? Garit shrugged. "Are the women all right?"
The scout shook his head, then shrugged himself. "Oh, not really hurt. But they've all been raped, over and over. Some of them long enough ago that they're obviously pregnant. They are worried that their husbands and boyfriends won't take them back."
"Oh." Yeah. I keep forgetting that some men treat women . . . like Rebo does. I guess the families just hoped for the best and kept their mouths shut. Now they'll all have to deal with reality. And it'll probably be painful. He rode back to their camp, and packed up the small amount of gear on the spare horses. It was only his imagination that Pyrite looked disappointed.
"Sorry, Xen needed to be afoot, this time. Maybe next time you can join in the fun."
The horse gave a disgusted snort.
***
Colonel Sommers cursed over his eight dead. Xen hunted up a bottle of the bandits' wine and anointed it with one of Lady Gisele's potions. None of the wounded died.
The six women hostages, daughters of the leading citizens from as many villages, were nearly as apprehensive about their return to their homes as they had been about their original kidnapping. Raped and pregnant, their futures were not bright. Xen gave them references to people in Ash. At the rate the village was growing, they were always short of teachers, store clerks, waitresses, and sheep herders.
Then they herded their prisoners down to the nearest town large enough to have a judge. Gave evidence, helped with the hangings.
The weather cooled. They cleaned up several smaller bandit gangs, and as the year came to a close, Xen rode back to Karista with a sense of satisfaction.
They cut across country on the way back and intersected the Old North Road north of the Crossroads. Xen eyed the faint glowing white of the gates, and kept quiet while the others argued about what the guards were guarding up on the hills. Dominic claimed to see something and was hooted at.
They stopped at the Tavern for dinner and the night. Xen felt odd being treated like a guest. He popped into the kitchen to see Pixie, then headed for the barn. Mot was one of Harry's orphans. Unlike most he hadn't ever left. The young man had been keeping Harry's stables for a couple of decades.
He was brushing out a nice pair of heavy black mares, and Xen grabbed a brush and joined him. "They look like some of Phantom's foals."
"They may well be. They're Vala's. You know her don't you? She lives in Rip."
"Yeah, her mother's one of the school teachers in Ash. Vala had twins, and then practically married the God of Eternal Youth."
"Yep. That's her. I think she may be up to her fourth set of twins."
"That's a bit scary."
Mot laughed. "Nice bunch of horses they've got, though. Lots of god horses in their mix. I suppose you went to school with her oldest kids?"
"Orion and Flare? Not really. They're Quicksilver's age. I was off to Ash by the time they were old enough to go to the Rip school. Anyway, I sort of grew up all over. Funny how Ash is what feels like home."
Mot nodded. "Pixie and I both miss Ash horribly. The Tavern's come and gone dozens of times, but Harry just gets itchy when he's there. He kept some guards about for awhile, but with the Army here now, they were feeling a bit under appreciated, and then those six women you told to go to Ash stopped by and next thing you know they're all off to colonize Ring World." Mot shrugged. "Pixie says even setting up the corridor hasn't brought Ash close enough. I know it's been almost thirteen years—but the Crossroads just isn't a home. It's a watch post." The mare nudged him, and he returned to brushing. "Sorry."
"I can't believe no one's built a new tavern in Ash." Xen said. "It's like we're hoping Harry will just pop back in someday and stay. I guess I was six when Harry first moved. But I still think of it as if it happened a couple of weeks ago."
"But you are the oldest of that generation. Most of the young witche
s in Ash don't have any memory of it. It's just a vacant lot that some weird old guy fills up occasionally."
"Just stories. Strange, how the World has changed."
Chapter Six
Winter Solstice 1390
Karista, Kingdom of the West
General Rufi, Colonel Janic, Major Fossi and King Leano ganged up on him.
"We've had nothing but good reports of you." Rufi said.
"You know you enjoyed these two years." Fossi said. The king's oldest son, he'd take over the King's Own when Rufi retired, and was already doing much of the field work.
"You understand magic. Not just doing it yourself, but knowing when it's being done." Janic pinched the bridge of his nose. "Apparently that's becoming a problem."
"And gods." The king said. "I'm delighted that so many have chosen to live, err, well, where we later built a kingdom. But there is at least one who is antagonistic to us, possibly four. And two dimension traveling worlds, one with their own brand of magic to figure out. Janic wants you to dance around ballrooms, but I'd rather have you out at the Crossroads, letting us know what is going on."
"We talked about it." Janic said. "I don't want you operating under the Fort's commander. I want you reporting straight to me." He glanced at the king. "And occasionally dancing around ballrooms."
:: Dad? ::
:: Yes. Rufi talked to me. Sounds like a good idea, to me, but it's your call. ::
:: Thanks, Dad. ::
"That sounds very interesting. How long of an enlistment are we looking at here?" Xen asked out loud.
Rufi grinned. "Was that pause to talk to your father?"
"Yes. He thinks it's a good idea."
"Five years is standard." The king steepled his fingers. "Keep in mind that you're a . . . magical problem solver, not a soldier. If there's an invasion, you report it, and Colonel Mikow will deal with the fighting part. Countering any magic is your assignment."
"Yes, sir."
Chapter Seven
Winter Solstice 1390
Karista, Kingdom of the West
"So, I'm going to be in the regulars, Third Army, but assigned here, right off. And elsewhere within a year, on a long posting. Probably somewhere in the north." Garit wiped his plate with a piece of bread. "That was excellent, ladies."
"Dad wants me home and taking on family responsibilities." Rally looked unenthusiastic. "At least I'll be close to home, well, here."
Lester scowled. "Father wants me to take over all the Provincial properties, so he can stay in Karista year round. I'll probably get back here a couple of times a year, if I'm lucky."
"University." Asti said. "My father insists I finish my doctorate."
Dominic shrugged. "I'm staying in the army. My father is . . . tending to dote on my little brother. So why should I hang around? I'll be here with the First Army, for now."
"First Army for me as well." Onray looked embarrassed. "The accounting office."
Keith and Phillip both nodded. "First Army."
"Second." Baylor said. "So I'll be in Farofo or Havwee."
Lester brightened. "Try for Havwee. I'll be looking over what my family owns in town, and figuring out how to get Kessi and Gar there without the family going ballistic."
Jasi perked up. "We could share again, keep a house for you both for when you're in town."
Baylor's glum look faded a bit.
Garit looked over at Xen, "And you'll be in the King's Own. I should have known they'd want your sword."
Xen grinned. "Janic said there will be a lot of traveling involved, but I suspect I'll get back here often enough to keep in touch."
They pushed back from the table, full of food and news. Philip invited them to see his beautiful son, and a general inspection of all the children followed.
Xen complimented them all, and on touching Hoon's nine month old son, felt a surge of power coincident with a zing of recognition. Mine. Hoon felt it too, and smiled smugly. No spell, no attempt to place a charm on him. She doesn't need one, she has my son. He ruffled the boy's brown hair. "Cute boy. You're a lucky dog, Rally." He turned away. He had rather a lot to consider. Starting with the details he'd felt when he touched the boy. I already have a child, shouldn't get much boost out of another. Except Nighthawk was conceived when I'd barely started puberty, and it was suppressed by the time she was born. And I was still a virgin. I'm doing the development stages backwards. I guess I'll see if this expands any abilities, or not. He put analysis aside for now.
He managed to touch each of the other women and children, as they all showed off their offspring, then the, umm, non-resident men took themselves off for their own homes.
In the barracks, Xen settled down to analyze that touch. That recognition. That little zing that . . . I can't ignore. I have a son. A little boy, not even walking yet. What am I going to do? I don't even actually like Hoon. I want . . . something like the love my parents have for each other. Not a financial relationship. He shoved guilt to the side and retrieved the few hairs he'd collected from the boy. What was that odd feeling? The not-like-me feeling that I also felt? Is it just because Hoon is Auralian? He focused down on the hair, the roots that had a few cells . . . It's been a long time since I've done any genetics . . . but that is not a normal witch gene. It isn't a wizard gene. It was actually close to being a mage power gene, despite being on the X chromosome instead of the Y. Little Rufi's Y has my mage gene, of course. And there's a scattering of minor damage all through the chromosomes. None on the important genes, is it all on inactive genes? It wouldn't be selected against, but what had caused it in the first place?
He opened his eyes and stretched. Fortunately, being a "real" officer now he'd been assigned a tiny cubby. No one could see the weird fellow sitting cross-legged on the floor.
Xen walked out into the night for some privacy, and to let his faint headache subside before he contacted his parents.
They both travelled to his location. Good thing it was dark out.
"Oner." His father frowned down at the fine hair. "Gisele and I analyzed them after a run in we had twenty-five years ago."
Xen raised his eyebrows.
His mother sighed. "They attacked Ash. Eighteen men. Ha! Thought a bit too highly of themselves."
"Practically an insult." Xen agreed.
Right there, on the sidewalk, they gave him a lesson in genetic affinities, and identification, a crash course in all the variations of all the power genes, half of which he'd never seen. Six varieties of the Mage Y? Four variants of the Witch X? Not to mention them taking a good hard look at his own X, which had the standard witch gene, but with a copy of the standard wizard gene in place of a gene combination that ensured most witches gave birth to only girls.
A few late strollers gave them a wide berth.
"Good grief! Your father removed the part of the Witch X that causes witches' ovum to reject Y bearing sperm, and added the wizard sequence. Quite a clever way to get all three power genes into you." Rustle glowered a bit.
The Wolf looked innocent. He was pretty good at it. Fourteen centuries of practice, I suspect.
"Granddad and the Sheep Man looked at it years ago. I didn't realize you didn't know."
Rustle snorted. "At least you're not as mixed up as Tromp's children. They've got several fathers each."
A passing man threw a startled glance their direction, and hastened his stride.
Xen boggled. Dare I ask how that happened? Umm, not sure I want to know!
"I wonder if you can isolate your sources and draw from only one at a time?" His mother sounded a bit thoughtful.
Xen contemplated the possibility and shook his head. "I'll work on it."
"Watch out for Hoon. And keep an eye on that grandson of ours." They both scowled at him. "And grab him and bring him to us at the first sign of a problem," his mother added. Then they disappeared.
A strolling watchman paused. Then walked resolutely past. Giving Xen a careful look-over.
Xen gave him a pol
ite nod, then headed back to the barracks. I'm going to have an interesting reputation, if I'm not careful.
The next morning he made his first report to Janic, about the spy from One World.
***
Garit had grown up around soldiers, but never really studied their organization. Oh, he knew the "First Army" was Rufi's command structure in case of war, and most of the financial side of any large organization. Purchasing land, buildings, equipment, stock, food and fuel. Payroll was split with smaller sections for disbursement of pay at every Fort and Naval Base. General Rufi had a whole section just for moving things. Logistics. The Navy was a sizable part of the First Army.
And the King's Own. The Royal Guards, Intelligence . . . probably a lot more he'd never noticed. Oh, police. The town guards in all the large cities operated more-or-less autonomously, but in an emergency would act with the military. A substantial portion of their operating funds came through the First Army, and the regular troops would lend help or take control as needed.
In contrast, the Third Army Headquarters in Karista was small and efficient. They operated the three large forts, and scattered small forts in mid-sized towns. All in the northern half of the kingdom, of course. The Second Army got the southern half.
Colonel Tanner Trick was young for his rank. With a reddish tan hint to his complexion that probably indicated a family connection to Farofo. He did a good job of hiding his, probably, appalled reaction to having a Royal Prince added to his command team.
"So . . . just finished your rotation, I see." The man's eyes scanned Garit's orders. "Well, Lieutenant Negue, come and meet my other officers. We're working procurement at the moment, ordering and delivering supplies and equipment to the field. We all have great hopes of moving out of here and into one of those forts, soon."
"Yes, sir." Garit tried to subdue his enthusiastic reaction to the thought of escaping from Karista again. "Do you have any idea which fort is under consideration? Colonel Sommers seemed solidly entrenched at Fort Iceberg." He narrowed his eyes, trying to remember anything he'd heard about the other two large forts. Or any of the small ones.