Wine of the Gods 05: Spy Wars

by Pam Uphoff

  Glare.

  How did this woman get through training? Or do they deliberately choose deep moles who will never feel at home in their assignment? That sounds so backwards. But if so, will they even want the rest of us to stay here?

  Mig jumped right in and helped with the deliveries, admitting that, as a way to explore the town without attracting notice, it was hard to beat.

  "Yeah, Damien even knows all the alleys, and you'd get in trouble sneaking around to learn all the short cuts." Max was riding in back. With the spring break-up on the river, business picked up quickly. Time to get Sombrero and Frosty back, start running two shifts of horses . . . Bring Code in to drive. Definitely hire someone in Bleaker Knob to mind the mares and foals, bring Jeinah and Jeff back and let the Captains get over the horror of it all?

  Damien waved back at a merchant and swung around to pick up another load. Carl and Tony were working loading the barge beyond them, and Vani was with them. Her driving was good enough that he ought to think about getting another wagon. She'd never make it as a stevedore. There was a group of men on the dock laughing as she teetered over the ramp with a box too large to see over.

  "Hey Damien, can you take a bunch of small parcels to the west side?" Harold bought and sold for himself and several other merchants, and also delivered parcels from all over to Karista for a fee.

  "Sure. I suppose they're going all over? Let's see the list." As Damien was reaching for it, the foreman raised his head and looked over his shoulder. Damien looked too, and spotted six men, spread out, but all emerging from the foot traffic at once.

  "What do you lot want?" Harold was probably thinking robbery, all those little packages sitting right there.

  Damien knew better. Oners. "Heads up!" he yelled, as the nearest man made a gesture with his hand. Damien blinked. "What?" Why was he trying to hit his good friend? Then Tony barreled by him and Vani grabbed him. Something snapped in his head, and he leaped into the fight. The Oners looked surprised at the failure of their mental attack, and only now were they going for modern weapons. Laser pistols. If we shoot back, our cover will be totally blown.

  Damien jumped in close. Like a lot of the dockside habitués he carried a sizable knife in a sheath. More of a tool than a weapon, and a signal that the bearer wasn't prey for thieves. He'd kept it sharp, and he was trained to fight with it. He knocked the first Oner's pistol away and he stabbed straight into the abdomen and slashed up. Tony was wrestling with one of them, Mig another. Damien spotted the fifth Oner raising his pistol to aim at Max, and threw his knife. It was a pretty poor toss, nicking the man's ear as it bounced off his shoulder. The Oner spun to aim at Damien and Harold took him down in a diving tackle. Damien kicked the head of Tony's opponent, then lots of dock workers were coming at a run.

  Mig was flung at Damien, horribly limp. He laid him down gently, even knowing from the burned smell that care was not needed. Two of the Oners grabbed a limp third and tossed him in the wagon. Another leaped for the driver's bench, kicked off the brake and slapped the horses with the reins. Solstice leaped forward, and New Boy jumped to keep up. A couple of the dockhands moved to block them but when one suddenly collapsed, the rest jumped out of the way. A whistle blew down the dock; a city guard had seen the ruckus.

  Damien checked Mig, but he was gone. Tony was pale, staying on the ground with a hand over his lower ribs. A spreading red stain. Vani looked horrified and bolted. Damien ripped off his shirt for a pad, applied pressure. They needed to get him home quickly. They had painkillers, could operate with guidance from the autodoc if needed, antibiotics for after. If it hasn't hit the liver.

  Damien was vaguely aware of Harold telling the City watch about the attempted robbery. Vani wiggled back through the gathering crowd, a bottle in her hands. "Drink this. It's magic, Tony. You have to drink it."

  I don't believe in magic! Damn it, no matter what I've seen!

  But Tony took a sip. A bit of color flushed his cheeks. "How come I only get the magic wine when I'm in no shape to appreciate it?" Max propped him up and he drank a bit more. Vani took the bottle away and held it out to Damien.

  "Me?" Damien looked down at himself. "Where did those burns come from?" Just barely grazing his ribs, really no big deal, but he took a sip of wine just to mollify Vani. The incipient pain, barely recognized in his fight mode, went away.

  The other two bodies had dark brown hair, dark tans, slightly Arabic cast to their features. The baffled city guard had their laser pistols; more guards came at a run. Damien gave them a description of horses and wagon, and admitting to killing both the would be robbers. One with a knife, one with a kick to the temple. "I wasn't actually trying to kill that one."

  "I was just as glad you did." Tony wheezed. "What are those things?" He nodded at the city guard with the two laser pistols. Reminded Damien frowned at them. What could he say? Nothing would be best. Let it be an attempted dockside robbery. Some dockhands and haulers jumped into help the merchant with the end result of two would-be robbers dead, four escaped, and among the dock workers who'd jumped in, one dead and three injured.

  "We've got to get you home Tony, get you into the autodoc." He kept his voice quiet.

  Tony took a careful deep breath and shook his head. "I think I'm fine, and isn't that Lefty coming? He's never seen me. Damien, keep your face down and turned away."

  It was Lefty and a whole troop of guards. They looked over the scene and took possession of the lasers. When a City Guard said they'd found the wagon, Damien went with him.

  The Oner had had no damned idea how to drive. He'd run the right side wheels into a ditch. New Boy was standing trembling on three legs, while spectators told how the men had cut the pinto loose, two injured men had mounted him and galloped off, and the other men had dodged off on foot.

  "The horse is a goner." The big man was wearing a butcher's apron. "Four crown."

  Damien looked at the sharp ends of bone and nodded. He stripped the poor fellow of the harness and the knacker drew a sharp razor across the big veins of the horse's neck.

  By the time he gotten the wagon out of the ditch, and bought a cheap handy old nag to pull it home, the excitement was over. Andrai was crying, but more angry than grieved. Tony was propped up and looking pale on the couch. Various neighbors came by to give condolences, express their shock and try to pick up gossip. A City guard came by to say they'd lost the four that had fled. "The troopers said that cart horse of yours outran them, even carrying double. Apparently led them over half the Province to hear them tell it."

  A pale Vani slipped out and looked worriedly at the spindly underfed gelding.

  "They ditched the wagon. New Boy broke a leg. They rode off on Solstice."

  "Code's going to be awfully upset. Maybe they'll turn him loose somewhere."

  Damien nodded. "Yeah. I like him myself, but I'd rather lose him than another person. Tony looks much better than he has any right to. Thank you." He looked at his new horse. "Well, I'll feed this old fellow up and get a bit of muscle on those bones before I sell him. I wonder if we could wean a couple of foals early, they're three months old. Then we could bring back two of the mares. It's not like I don't have enough horses already."

  They had a quiet funeral in the morning. Max rode the old gelding to the farm to fetch Sombrero and Frosty. Damien kept busy, hauling with the bays in the morning, and Blue and Brownie in the afternoon.

  Andrai was angry. "We need to consider ourselves outed. Hunker down until the boat comes back and leave. Another team is going to have to take over from scratch."

  Damien thought about it. "Are we? The Oners attacked us in public, not at home. I think it may have been like with Joe. They spotted us, set up a quick attack, then faded. We don't have any indication that they've tracked us home."

  "They recognized some of you. But now they know all of you. I'll send a report on the boat when it comes next, and ship at least Carl and Tony off."

  Tony nodded glumly. "They set the attack up where we'd be
en working for a couple of hours. They must have spotted us."

  "And I'm tired of this. My feet ache. I want fast cars and to never see another horse again in my life. Or at least for several years." Carl grimaced. "Maybe I can get a home posting. Or at least at the Gate Camp, so I can go home occasionally."

  Chapter Fifty-four

  7 Emre 1367 / early spring 1365 local

  Karista, Kingdom of the West, Target Forty-two

  Karista looked like home as they sailed into the bay.

  No one met them, and they carried their own gear and some boxes for Usse to the warehouse. Usse looked steamed.

  He relieved Ajha of one of his boxes and hauled it upstairs.

  "All the . . . Pure Chance Damned Action Team does is prowl the city hoping to find an Earther to kill. I swear I'll never call you lot helpless puppies again." He placed the box on the counter and took the rest of his, then waved them away. "Ajha, why don't you go buy some obvious animal meat, and cook it for dinner. The Action Team doesn't seem to realize they aren't playing training games back home. They can't seem to think long term, once they spot an Earther."

  He dawdled in the market, buying big red steaks with bones in them, potatoes to roast, three varieties of dairy products to season them with, fresh vegetables and a couple of blackberry pies. Nothing like a few seeds in the teeth to destroy an indolent bit of lounging. The he hustled back to the warehouse as the clouds darkened.

  Four members of the Action Team had returned, and were head down over maps of the city. They had large blocks crossed off, and a scattering of green stars all over.

  "Stars for Earther sightings, red exes for blocks they've scanned in detail." Egto muttered. "So far they haven't gotten close enough to kill another one—or get killed." He dropped his voice on that last. Ahja blinked. Surely the missing four weren't dead.

  We've been gone a bit over a year. Edmo and Ohge were wounded. . . and four killed since then?

  Ajha watched quietly as Usse paced. The room was insulated, so he couldn't hear the torrential rain hitting the roof, but the building quivered with every clap of thunder. It was nice to be back in Karista, but he was really glad they'd managed to miss the winter. This spring storm would be over quickly enough.

  Idre was scanning the reports on comm intercepts that had finally trickled down to their level, nearly a year out of date. "I can't believe the Earth never retaliated for our raid. They won't let a pack of natives dictate to them. They must have had a problem with airlift, can't get enough stuff across the pole for a further push. We need to watch for them to move in some large ocean transports."

  Edmo snorted. "Things like that have to come through in pieces and be assembled. We'll have plenty of warning." The other two Action Team members in sight all nodded.

  Usse nodded too. "Indeed. Our expectations of their actions are pushing our own schedule. We need to advance to the next level of cooperation on this World. The One wants that Priest to represent the One to the Amma, right now. Edmo, you will return to Fascia, and probably Home, to repair your team. Four members of the Action Team dead in two brief fights?" Usse voice became censorious at that last. Ajha was glad he'd missed most of it. "The Infos and I will keep an eye on the situation here while you are gone."

  What was left of the Action Team shifted guiltily. Leader Edmo stood and paced. "The Princess isn't going to like the Priest taking over. She'll be cut right out of the chain of command."

  "Yes, apparently the Amma is tiring of her. I expect she'll be recalled as soon as the Priest's relationship with the Amma is secure. So go, assist the transition. Tell the Priest that I am keeping the Information Team to do some more scouting. There must be a concentration of magic users close to the site of the battle. We should eliminate them before we move in and take Verona. I wish we could assimilate the Kingdom of the West, first, but the strategists are running the show." Usse stalked up and back and the Action Leader ceded him the floor space.

  "It is absolutely crucial that the Earth not gain any magical resources, even this false magic they have here. Perhaps especially this local magic. It seems well suited to brute force violence. They sliced up the Earth's expeditionary force as easily as they sliced up Ojda and Endo." Usse looked down his nose at the Action Leader. "And now this. An attack in broad daylight? With disastrous results for us. Just as well you're leaving for a while."

  The Action Leader smoldered, but didn't reply.

  Ajha jumped in with a diversion.

  "Their radio traffic shows that, not much to my surprise, the Earther's are still enmeshed in their politics. They're starting another election cycle, and their economy is more important than a mere raid by natives. They haven't even admitted to the deaths of the two female guards in Asia. The ruling party especially doesn't want word getting out about a clash with the One. We need to use this time to find and remove the native Magic."

  Usse nodded. "Yes, an excellent suggestion. Edmo, get your team down to the boat under the cover of all this rain, so no dock workers recognize you. If we can finally pin down the magicians' location, I will contact Fascia. Otherwise, we will be silent until all the fuss has died down."

  "Before you leave . . . " Ajha gulped and dived in. "There's an oddity that I think Intel would like to get their hands on. It appears to be a bronze statue. I believe it may be a deranged magician under some odd collection of spells. Will you take it to this Priest?"

  Idre glowered. "Not that statue of Ba'al you swore came to life. It was a hallucination."

  "Possibly. But they can't fool a Priest."

  Usse frowned. "Where is it? On that island with the rest?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Edmo, as the ship leaves port, take a small boat to the island. Collect the statue and take it with you. Ajha, go with him, stay on the island, and pay your way off on a tourist boat tomorrow."

  The Leader saluted and left.

  Usse pulled out the sat map, and tapped it to regain the Information Team's attention. "Ignore them. Or use them as an example of how telepathic connections can act as positive feedback and overwhelm common sense.

  "My native asset—if you can call him that—is convinced that there are witches in this village. So, once the weather has cleared, I want you to examine the village in greater detail, then spread out from there." He gave them a toothy smile. "Don't give yourselves away to the God of War, else I'll get a bad reputation for losing personnel."

  Ajha collected his coat, and stuffed food in the pockets and met the Action Team with their full kit in the entry. Edmo scowled and led the way through the rain to the ship. The captain cast off immediately, as the tide was still ebbing. Two sailors rowed Ajha and Edmo to the island, and despite the rain and the dozens of statues, Ajha had no trouble following his terror to the statue now sitting in a cross legged meditative pose, but with his head turned and the beginnings of a frown on his face.

  Edmo jerked back from his first contact with the statue. "I see. How . . . interesting." They muscled the statue onto a stretcher and lifted it, with considerable effort and got it around the island to the dingy. The sailors eyed the statue and rowed it and Edmo silently back into the rain and the barely visible ship standing off shore.

  Ajha spend a cold, miserable night on the island, but the next morning was sunny. The first tour boat out was delighted to charge him a full fee to return him to the Mainland.

  "Ought to find yourself some new friends, leaving you like that." The boat's captain was a gruff old man.

  "Oh, I expect they thought it a great jape." Ajha sneezed.

  "Dear me, and summer colds are the worst kind!" One of the tourists was a nice middle aged lady.

  "Good thing I like chicken soup." Ajha stifled another sneeze as long as he could.

  "Works like magic," the lady approved.

  Chapter Fifty-five

  1365 Early Spring

  Ash, Kingdom of the West

  Rustle had been delighted when Answer gave her permission to actually work on rabb
its. She thought they looked cute purple, but Havi called them "Gurrrlieeee!" Daddy had thought it was funny.

  Rustle soaked her hurt feelings in the hot springs for a few hours, analyzing the whole problem. All right. She really hadn't thought about the ramifications. She'd just thought purple rabbits would be cute.

  However.

  Scientists should not do cute. From now on she was going to be a cool, sensible scientist. She would present Answer with finished, complete results, all written up properly. No more cute little girl things.

  After she was done with the purple bunnies. No amount of male criticism was going to have her quitting in the middle of a project.

  When she heard voices, she slipped out of the pool and grabbed her clothes. She wasn't in the mood for company, and in fact that sounded like a man's voice. Great. Some randy mages probably, who wouldn't admit that this was the witches hot springs . . . Oops, she'd just foully maligned the mages.

  It was Opinion, with a . . . with that merchant. Wow. Everyone figured Lord Kell was Opinion's pet. They must have had a heck of a fight, for Opinion to make a production of hauling a new man up to the hot springs.

  ". . . just a little trinket, of course. Barely worthy of a lovely lady like you."

  Ooo, total smarm. This could be funny.

  "Of course it's lucky I had a colored stone put in it, rumor has it that you witches have a diamond mine. So I suppose you've plenty of clear stones."

  Opinion batted her eyelashes. "There's not a woman in the World that isn't thrilled by a gift." She wiggled up against the fellow and started unbuttoning his fancy coat.

  "But we poor hopeful men wish to impress." He leaned to kissed her, and Rustle could see that he was doing it with his mouth open and sticking his tongue in.