Young Warriors (Wine of the Gods Book 10)

by Pam Uphoff

  "Dinosaurs!" he screamed, then tripped and fell through the old gate. The lizard leapt, wide jawed, after him.

  Hoon caught on first. "They are making a second gate to face this one, stop them!"

  :: I'll do the gates, you cover me. ::

  :: Right.:: No more tiptoeing. He whipped out his sword and charged the line of soldiers sticking bayonets on their rifles. Not shooting? Oh, right, we're in between groups. Shoot at invisible enemies, hit your fellows. Ha!

  No fancy sword fighting here, it was going to be straight away sticking and bashing. The soldiers charged down on the position of the gates, barely visible in the daylight. He sent a magical slice across the front line and they barely staggered. Shielded. Xen dropped and rolled, tripping up a trio of soldiers and leaping up to demonstrate the advantages of an edge over a strictly stabbing weapon. Actually it wasn't all that easy, they had armor of some sort. It looked like heavy cloth with hard plates sewn into it, but even the cloth didn't slice easily. Their faces were the most vulnerable, and he slashed with a will. Some of the others turned back and he slaughtered them on the way to pursue the men that were getting closest to Quicksilver, sweeping their bayonets around. They know someone is around here, somewhere. They must all have some magical ability, for all I can't see it. He threw a basic fireball at the one closest to her. It bounced neatly, but certainly caught the man's attention. A thin dart bounced as well. He concentrated slice on another man and threw it hard. The spells splintered, and the man very nearly exploded as random bits of slice slashed through him and dissipated on the next man's shield.

  Xen threw two more, and felt his energy levels sagging. The Oners were strengthening their shields. He switched to mental.

  Sleep, Spin, Laugh, ah, finally, one that got through. He stabbed a soldier, and threw Diarrhea. Nothing. Cold, Hot. Nothing. He threw a bunch of Laugh, then when they started catching that one, he started Levitation. "Flattening" the natural shape of Space, nullifying gravity. Soldiers tumbled. Xen reeled. Released the world, and let them fall to the ground. He felt like falling himself. Takes too much energy to do that. Maybe Transformations. The first one he'd ever learned from his mom turned hair purple. Not terribly useful. Goat, oh, yeah, that sent the first recipient to the ground fast. He started throwing the Goat spell, staggering a bit. Pulled in some power from the Earth. Better.

  With a roar, a heavy metal vehicle nosed through the first gate, and straight into the second. Light flickered blindingly and silhouetted Quail, running away. Damn smart. It was more than light, some dimensional backlash, a release of energy smashing through his shields and into his brain. Xen took off running as well. He dodged soldiers that ran to intercept him, who could clearly see him. He could hear the scream of twisting metal behind him, and abrupt silence.

  That odd light winked out, leaving his head thick and leaden. He groped for power, felt nothing, reached for his mental box of shield spells, couldn't focus, concentrate enough to picture it.

  He flinched as a laser scorched along his arm. He threw himself flat and rolled, got into the middle of a group of soldiers, five bayonets looking less dangerous than one laser. I could use a bit of magic, just now, draining a few power packs would be really handy. Any wizards around? If any answered, he didn't hear them.

  He slashed a neck, stabbed at an underarm and got nowhere, kicked and slashed again. Stabbed up under a helmet, spun and kicked, damn, out in the open again, but Quicksilver had more problems than he did. He grabbed a soldier, stabbed him, grabbed his pistol hand and fired three times, carefully away from Quicksilver, before rolling away and pulling the man into his companion's line of fire. The man in his grasp screamed and he threw him, stabbed the companion, then turned and bolted for Quicksilver's position. He concentrated just on an energy shield and felt a faint flicker of answer. He pulled power in from the first shot that hit his shield and strengthened it, threw himself between Quicksilver and the soldier about to shoot her. His shield absorbed the laser, but a sharp crack spun Quicksilver around, staggering. He lunged and stabbed up under a helmet, spun and slashed. Another man flailed his arms and collapsed as Quicksilver got back into the fight. She had her arm around her chest and there was a godawful lot of blood everywhere.

  He pulled his flask out of his hip pocket. "Wine of the Gods." She grabbed it and folded up on the ground and he straddled her, throwing everything he could into a physical shield inside his energy field. After a couple of the Oners bounced off the physical shield, the soldiers started spreading out, surrounding them.

  "Old Gods!" Quicksilver choked. "If I goose you, it's your own fault."

  Xen took the flask, swallowed a mouthful himself, then shoved the flask back into his pocket.

  Quicksilver stood up shakily. "I guess I should carry some of that stuff around with me, too."

  "It comes in handy, sometimes." He looked around uncertainly. "You got enough oomph to Travel?"

  "Not a hope." She snatched back a hand that had been massaging his shoulder.

  "Me neither."

  He looked back at the gate, but there was nothing there.

  "Apparently the easiest way to get two gates together is to bridge them with metal. Once that tank was partway through both gates they just twisted all up and snapped together." Quicksilver said. "I think there's now a single gate that goes from the Empty World straight to a Dinosaur World."

  Looking further, he could see the enemy was concentrated in three areas. The largest group faced the tavern and two big black horses with glowing riders. There were plenty of bodies on the ground, in a gap between the sides, while both sides considered the results of the first skirmish. A second group faced the Arrival gate. Not much to see in the way of blood and gore there. Some big dogs were prowling around them, laughing as the soldiers shook powerless weapons in anger. The last group clumped around the carriage that had brought Hoon and the recent arrivals back here. A group from there was approaching them. Hoon was carrying a small figure. The soldiers surrounding them opened their circle as Hoon's group approached.

  "Oh, shit, oh, shit. Quicksilver, that little boy is mine, we need to avoid any sort of confrontation, and threats they might feel forced to carry out."

  She stood still, concentrated. "Sit down."

  He did, and saw a likeness of himself standing there. He laid flat, and carefully wrapped a tiny illusion of rough grass over himself, and low crawled to the edge of his shield. Quicksilver took the shield over flawlessly, and she turned to walk toward a thin spot in the One Worlder's line. The shield lifted just enough to scrape over him.

  "You'd better talk to us, Xen." The man who had called Hoon's genes defective seemed to be in charge.

  Xen couldn't low crawl fast enough to not get stepped on, damn it, if they noticed the ground didn't feel right . . .

  There was a shimmer in the air, someone with a light warp . . .

  The One officer reached back and grabbed the boy by the collar of his shirt, and swung him aloft. "How many pieces do you want your son in, Xen Wolfson?" He pulled a knife, swept it around in a showy arc.

  Xen leapt in concert with the blur. The other light warp slipped. Kipp Hasty grabbed the boy, his physical shield flickering uncertainly into place, too weak to sever limbs, or even the boy's clothing.

  The Oner kept his grip.

  Xen's sword hit the man's knife wrist and bounced. He kicked, then twisted his blade and sliced the back off Rufi's shirt. Kipp sprang away with the boy, and bolted.

  The Oner drew a gun.

  Hoon tackled him.

  A muffled report. Two.

  They collapsed together.

  Hoon looked at Xen with desperate eyes. "The baby, in the carriage." Her head fell back, eyes blank.

  I always did think she was a good mother.

  Pounding hooves, and a dark chestnut horse rammed a Oner. Pyrite reared. Bones crunched as hooves struck.

  Xen jolted back into motion. He stabbed up under another man's chin, jumped back and kicked a man t
aking aim at Kipp. A backhanded slash to his right, and he was backing hastily, scraping up an energy shield, and moving fast enough to stay ahead of the bayonets.

  He heard the thud of heavy hooves behind him, and turned and ran, grabbed a handful of mane and jumped, trying desperately to neither drop his sword nor stab the horse.

  "The carriage, there's another kid." He threw a look back and spotted Kipp, the boy in his arms, reaching for a man on a bright chestnut horse. They winked out.

  Pyrite turned the other way. They thundered down on the carriage and the lasers flicked harmlessly away. Pyrite always has been good with shields. The guards scattered and Pyrite, sliding to a stop from full speed, reared and raked a hoof down the side of the carriage. The door exploded in splinters, and Xen leaned in, picked up the baby. They were suddenly in front of Harry's Tavern and trotting out of the 'usual spot' they all Traveled to and from.

  :: Horsie? Did you just Travel? ::

  Pyrite nodded.

  Xen handed the baby down to a witch, then turned to find his father carefully handing Quicksilver down from Jet.

  "Hey, I can get off just fine," she protested. "I'm not that beat up, just a few scrapes and burns."

  Cardinal handed her a glass full of something green.

  "Ha!" their father said. "You're running on adrenaline. Drink that first, then count the holes in you."

  A Witch, Yellow, squeezed through the medical personnel. Carrying his saddle. Xen slid off, flinching at sudden pain. Yellow tossed the saddle up on Pyrite's tall back and reached for the cinches. "Get a healing potion, Xen!"

  Xen looked down at his blood-covered self, and accepted a glass of nasty green stuff from another witch. "I don't think much of this is actually mine." He drained it, anyway. And surveyed the battlefield. The flat hard cracks of the guns were increasing. "Right. Shields up, and back in we go."

  His father nodded, and led the way forward. "They keep trying various machines and magic on us. Everyone's having to put a whole bunch of power into their shields, but not too much is happening. They are looking a bit . . . unstable. There's been a lot of yelling. I think that officer you killed was the commander. They are probably all trying to figure out who had the earliest commissioning date."

  Xen snorted. And drew his sword. Spotted the spells on his father's sword. Shield piercing, strengthening. He applied them to his own.

  The God of War nodded. "Let's take a run down the line, here. Watch out for arrows and spells from our own side."

  Xen checked Pyrite's shields, raised his own and they charged down the line of soldiers. The two horses knocked men out of the way or trampled them. The spells let his sword slide through magical, physical effect shields, but the fabric and plates still interfered . . . facial injuries were so nasty . . . The line heaved, yielded, the soldiers tried to surround them, mob them.

  Flick.

  He was outside the thickest of the fight.

  They turned and charged back in. Slashed at a man who dodged Pyrite's hooves. Stabbed another, jerked his sword loose. Pyrite spun, Xen slashed across the face of the man trying to hamstring the horse. Pyrite kicked. Xen stabbed, swayed as the sword jammed.

  Flick.

  Back to the periphery, sword in hand.

  The God of War popped into existence beside him. He swept the battle with an experienced gaze, stood in his stirrups looking to the east.

  Xen glared at his sword. "Damn that armor. I need something that . . . "

  A flash of teeth. The God brandished, not a sword, but a long heavy mace. Spiked and bloody.

  Xen snorted. "So I ought to use my sword like a club? It can't be any less effective . . . " He broke off as he spotted movement. A cavalry troop erupted out of the gulch and charged down on the Oners at short range. "They don't have shields!"

  ***

  They heard a sound, not quite like thunder, from miles away.

  Garit frowned. Those sharp cracks . . . "Fireworks?"

  Colonel Trick formed them up and they trotted up the hill to find a battle underway.

  A very odd battle.

  The sharp bangs . . . "They've got something like the Cove Island thunder guns." Garit yelled over the sound of hooves.

  Colonel Trick nodded. "Yes. We need to get in close, fast, and keep them from reloading. Follow me." He steered his horse down into a dry gulch, turned north for fifty feet to a more gradual slope.

  As they crested the rim, they found everyone mostly looking the other direction. "Form a line. Lances out." They trotted forward, broke into a gallop.

  Two hundred feet, a hundred. Soldiers in ugly green and tan clothes were noticing them.

  "Lances down. Charge!"

  Garit dropped his point and kicked Joker into a dead run. Aimed the horse between two soldiers, his lance on the one to the right. They were pointing their weapons. Braced against a shoulder. Flashes of flame at the end of a long thin pipe. Lots of flashes.

  They aren't stopping to reload!

  Joker threw up his head and stumbled. Garit steadied his lance and rammed it into the neck of his target. Felt Joker going down, kicked out of his stirrups. He threw himself to the side, crashed into a stranger, rolled beyond him as Joker tumbled. Jerked out of the way of another running horse, drew his sword and stabbed a man in a green and tan mottled uniform through the mouth. Kicked at another; the soldier's knee gave with a nasty crunch.

  He had a moment clear, to view the battle site.

  There were familiar blue and gold uniforms on the far side of the chaotic mass, holding a line, shooting crossbows. Civilians, women. No. Witches. Witches standing there with their hands out, as if forbidding the strangers entry into the heart of the kingdom. He stepped and picked up one of the little thunder guns. The pipe was hot, the bottom of it insulated so it could be held. raised it to his shoulder, like the soldiers. There were buttons, and a little lever in a protected circle that fit a finger perfectly. The thing roared and kicked him like a mule. He staggered, something zinged past his ear. He swung the pipe around, pointed it at the soldier, leaned into it and pulled the lever. The soldier spun, hit the ground cussing. Garit pulled the lever. Nothing happened. He did a bit of cussing himself, bolted forward and froze as the man rolled over onto his back . . . and died.

  He snatched up the man's weapon. Looked around for a target.

  All the strangers were falling. Uninjured, untouched. His skin crawled. A spell of death? I hope the wizards can tell the difference between them and us!

  He looked across at a man still standing. Tapping at something in his hands. The man surveyed the field, his shoulders slumped and he let the device drop. Pulled out a small thunder gun, put it to his own head and pulled the lever.

  It wasn't the wizards. They killed their own soldiers, then the officers killed themselves, rather than be taken prisoner.

  Were these all slaves, fighting under threat of death?

  He blew out a slow breath, straightened up and started looking for the colonel. The strange battle was over.

  I killed a man. Two, actually. I hardly noticed, at the time. How . . . strange. Killing is not important. Winning is.

  ***

  "It wasn't a spell. All the ordinary soldiers died of poisoning. There was a thing implanted in their bellies. The officers could kill them from a distance. And those officers, half of them willed themselves dead, the other half used their guns. Not a single one fought the compulsion, tried to live." Xen thought about sliding off of Pyrite . . . but he was so tired. His whole head was throbbing, a weird feeling somewhere beyond pain. He thought he'd probably not be able to get back on, once he dismounted.

  Garit looked from him to the dead soldiers . . . "What kind of people kill their own, rather than surrender?"

  "They're from the One World. I'm beginning to think they're stranger than the Earthers."

  Garit nodded, and headed across the field, to where his company was forming up.

  Xen headed back to the Tavern. He ought to find Wacolm . . . He
could hear Quicksilver arguing with someone.

  "Every single one is in a muscle. No problem, right?"

  Gisele, in middle-aged mode, strode over. "Apart from the one through your lung? Painful, but not dangerous, your lung is fine. You did lose a fair bit of blood, but the bullets missed the bones. You can go away. Or stay in case your brother needs sitting on."

  She looked around suddenly and grinned at him. "Hey, slowpoke! I was wondering where you were."

  "I," he stuck his nose up in the air. "Was rescuing children, like a proper hero, while you merely closed the gate, stopping the invasion dead." The ground looked a long way down. He grabbed a double handful of mane and let gravity haul his feet around so they hit first.

  "Ha, you left out rescuing me."

  He blinked innocently. "Didn't I say children, plural?" He found his balance and let go of Pyrite's mane.

  "Ooo! If you weren't coated with blood . . . Old Gods! Xen! Why weren't you the one drinking the Joy Juice out there?"

  "I did, but most of this is other people's blood." He sniffed a fecal sort of smell that he certainly hoped wasn't someone's gut wound. He fumbled tiredly out of coat and shirt and behaved while Gisele poked him.

  Indigo brought a pail of hot water. Soap and wash cloths.

  He looked down at the red, half healed little holes. "I don't remember half of them."

  "It's that chemical weapon. It explodes and throws little pellets really fast." Gisele poked a little hole in his side between ribs and pelvis. "I think that's what did this one. The lasers tend to cauterize. Except when there's a steam explosion." She cast a worried glance behind her. "If you hadn't had that wine with you, you wouldn't be so cavalier about it." She tapped his forehead, then nodded in satisfaction. "Strained, but no damage. You will rest for a month. No magic for a week. No horse stalls. Don't make me enforce it."