Wine of the Gods 05: Spy Wars

by Pam Uphoff

  Harry squirmed. "Well, no."

  Lefty eyed the old man in disbelief.

  Nil snorted, dropped his voice to explain to Lefty. "The Ideal of the God is impartial, and doesn't tattle. The collective subconscious won't let him, any more than the Auld Wulf can not answer a prayer. After a while you get used to them not acting and reacting like human beings." He shot an exasperated glance toward the old man. "Even if it does leave you wanting to kick them, occasionally."

  Answer drummed her fingers on the table. "We could send them elsewhere, wandering around the mountains, but they'd detect the misdirection. It wouldn't convince them of our inconsequentiality."

  "Oscar and Bran didn't have any problems implanting memories." Lefty put his hands in his lap to avoid copying her.

  "Could we convince them that they'd killed us all?" Gisele eyed the Auld Wulf.

  "I'm sure I could subdue my better instincts and allow myself to be imagined dead." His eyes crinkled. "After a very impressive fight perhaps? No? Maybe it would be better if they met with very little aggressive behavior, make us look like a possibly dangerous potential, but not actually much a threat right now. Umm, I could be staggering drunk, perhaps?" He tapped his own fingers on the table, and for a moment his sleeves showed a faint odd texture, like chain mail. "If they have any good intel on the battle at the Feather River gorge, they'll know it was just a rag-tag group of us, thrown together quickly, and that it was only because we could take down the bridge that we won. If we'd been too late to keep them across the canyon, we'd have been in bad shape. We could probably convince them that there's only a dozen or so of us who were trained for battle, the rest mostly women and little girls."

  Answer sniffed. "I dislike the idea of showing witches as weak, but perhaps that would have the best long term consequences. How did you find out, and do you know when these people are planning to arrive?"

  "We haven't located the One's base. The Earthers we know all about. They've intercepted the Oner's communications, not reliably, but often enough. They were quite sure an Action Team was on the way to Karista, might have already arrived, and that it would head straight here."

  "Humph. Are the Earther's any better?"

  "Yes. Or at any rate this small group is. In fact Damien's been in the village at least once. He's quite sympathetic, and was trying to figure out how to warn us anonymously."

  Dydit sat up at that. "I haven't seen him."

  Lefty snickered. "He tends to be naturally mentally fizzy and hard to read. But when he thinks hard, it leaks. I got a distinct impression, memory, rather, of him watching Never's birthday party from up there." He pointed at the head of the stairs to the rooms. "He was trying to figure out how to warn all those nice happy people, last I saw of him, which was about four hours ago."

  "Letting your guard down around friends? Not noticing a known enemy when he was less than a hundred feet away?" Nil chuckled evilly.

  "No doubt I'm going to receive a lesson I won't forget, real soon." Dydit looked back at Lefty. "I'll head back to Karista with you, help you keep a closer eye on the Earthers so we'll know—if they know—when the Oners move."

  Answer's head swung around suddenly, and half the witches in the room leapt for the door. The Auld Wulf disappeared.

  Never paled. "I can't hear Rustle." She was seconds behind Dydit as the Tavern emptied out into the night.

  Lefty ran after them. Was the Action Team here already?

  Chapter Sixty-seven

  2 Hija 1367 / Early Fall 1365

  Karista and Ash, Kingdom of the West, Target World Forty-Two

  Action Leader Edmo Withione was relieved to be back out of the cloying intrigues of the Amma's court in Fascia. Commanding an Action Group in the field, there was none of the irritating hiding of the inner self, and the connection to the One. The power struggle between the Ambassador and the native magician 'Pax' was bad enough, without adding all the inside Oner politics and petty rivalries.

  Their attempt to ambush the God of War had resulted in a brief magical exchange that had broken their compass. The god had appeared and fought the ordinary troops, as Edmo has seen before. Then the god had faced the Action Team—and tossed a single stun spell their direction. The simple spell had blasted through the compass' shields and stunned two of them. Then the so-called god had disappeared, and no amount of magical searching had been able to trace him. The Action Leader was of the opinion that the god was a brief manifestation of a collective magical talent, not an actual individual. As he'd told the Ambassador, the Commander, and the other Action Leader. Then they had received this report of a magical village. He'd contacted the Director and demanded a larger team.

  The resorting and reintegration of the Action Teams had been acrimonious. Action Leader Kael had been furious to lose parts of her team, but she'd managed to get pregnant, proving that she wasn't a Princess, no matter her official rating. She ought to have considered herself lucky to have held onto a field position, and any team members, at all.

  He looked over the four circuits with possessive pleasure. His four junior leaders were integrated into the small four man groups, which was better than a detached leader for each two circles, in his opinion. Okde's and Uhba's circles had been practicing, and could effortlessly combine for a full compass. He wasn't as sure about Ugsi's and Amso's circles. The leaders both thought they were above being parts of circles. He been working with them, though, and they'd improved quickly. And they'd been rival North and South when combined for a Compass. The competition made them strong, even if it did take longer to get them to all coordinate.

  The Director had sent a Special Scout—trained in detection spells, experienced in field tracking. He would add two of the Info Team members as guides. So joining in, himself, another complete circuit. Edmo probably had the largest Action Team in recent Directorate history.

  He looked down on the third member of the Information Team. "If you had need, and could not avoid feeling fond, you should have used an animal, it comes to the same thing, doesn't it? No? And that is why you will remain in the Post. The natives are just animals, and we will slaughter them like animals." He turned and stalked away. He heard the Clostuone's teeth click shut, stopping a reply that that would probably have been about the Team's deliberate spreading of the prophet's genes. Perhaps he was smart enough to know the difference between duty and pleasure. Or just smart enough to know when to shut up.

  No, he was going to open his mouth.

  "I think a Priest ought to come and evaluate them before we start killing people. More people. The mass murder of civilians, children, is wrong. And people with the genes of the Prophets, or close enough . . ." He clenched his teeth at Edmo's abrupt gesture.

  The other two Infos looked uncomfortable.

  But at least they kept their mouths shut.

  "Look at these genetic results from Ash. Neartuones everywhere. There'd be Withiones too, if you don't count the three genes no one here has, not even Pax. You can't just slaughter them like inconvenient animals!"

  "Shut. Up."

  The idiot had a One damned defensive shield up and Edmo's accompanying mental slap bounced. I don't have time for this—I probably ought to just slit his throat and be done with this fool. But I may need his team mates. Edmo scowled at the Post Head. "Make sure he doesn't do something really stupid."

  The man nodded, and turned, a spell to hand, as Edmo stepped out.

  "Usse! Don't. Mass murder? You must know this is a bad . . ." The door shut off the remainder.

  The rest of the team had the horses ready. He was pleased to see that the Post Head had kept the pinto. Gelded, of course, so he was useful. Not that Edmo anticipated a need for that combination of strength and endurance, but the animal had been very impressive, when they'd ridden him to escape. Eight of the horses were new, unknowns, but they looked fast and moved energetically and soundly. Even the two pack horses looked good. They were carrying grain for the horses, but would make do with field rations for themsel
ves, so they could move fast, without stopping where witnesses might remember them. They were planning on leaving behind something quite memorable. Two hundred dead bodies, more or less. With Fort Stag half a day north they weren't going to stay around long enough to bury their victims, nor call attention to themselves by burning the place down. Satisfying though it would be to hide all the evidence and leave a different sort of mystery.

  Edmo rode in the first group. His Special Scout was a Withione. Edmo had good light contact with him, as it should be. The two Infos who hadn't gone native were probably not good for much in a fight, but they had good magical defenses. He made them practice with the scout and himself. A fifth circuit, should they need one. He'd probably use the Infos out at the perimeter to ensure no one escaped. By the time they got to the Target they'd be well integrated, so there would be no need for verbal communications in battle. Five teams of four. The perfect double major compass, should it come to a magical battle, and extra men, should they have losses. But Edmo didn't anticipate having any trouble killing the villagers, even though they out numbered them fifteen to one or better. Nearly half of the population were children and teenagers, and more than three-fourths of the adults were women. There were only about twenty-five men of an age to be a threat, and only four of them actually lived in the central village.

  The Infos knew where the winery was located. They would slide in quietly and deal with the so-called God of War first. Then they'd take out the central concentration of magic, all the women who called themselves witches, then go on to the farms. There wouldn't be enough of them left to put up a fight, even if the alarm went up almost immediately. They'd work their way through, concentrating their force on one group of houses at a time. Finish up with the mill, and a couple of horse farms, then ride away.

  The Action Team split up and left Karista in twos and threes that wouldn't elicit any comment. It was a three week long trip, even pushing the animals a bit on the good road. Edmo used the evenings to work with the scout and the two infos, forming a solid circuit. The other squads maintained separation, and they all camped separately from each other when other travelers were near. East of Wallenton the traffic died to nothing and they closed ranks, with Amgo moving ahead far enough to warn them of people on the road. They ducked out of sight twice to let wagons pass. They took the two nights to practice together, first in two compasses, and then a double compass. The power they could raise was intoxicating.

  The third afternoon they found a good spot to leave their horses well out of the hearing range of the first habitation near the village. They cared for the horses and rested until dark, then started walking.

  They passed two small domiciles with a single non-magical male in each one, then in an ugly tower just off the road, both adults and children there, all asleep. Shielded glows. All these little outlying farms could be cleaned up on the way out. The important thing was to kill that "god" and depopulate the central village.

  Amgo Withione ghosted in from his point position. "Three dozen of the village teenagers, looks like they're getting together in the woods to settle a grudge. They aren't very far off the road. Tough to pass by without them noticing."

  "Well, since they're wide awake, and in the way, we'll start with them."

  "But . . . teenagers?" Egto sounded uncertain.

  Edmo glared at the Info. They'd all caught that flash of memory. Pretty girls, laughing, long hair, figures just budding. Guard duty, both of them.

  "Half a mile further, then they're all off to the left. We can probably surround them before they realize their party is being crashed."

  "Good. Idre, Egto, you will stay on the road, blocking any escapees. Amgo, lead on." Edmo followed him quickly, heart rate accelerating in anticipation. He'd have rather started with an isolated group of trained warriors, but this was useful. The trees thinned, and he could see firelight through them. As they approached the last trees, Amgo led them off the road and through the open forest in a loop around the smoking campfire. Edmo waved the two infos back before he turned to lead the last of the Action Team around the other direction to meet up with Amgo.

  ". . . And I'll get even stronger after I've fucked someone." A female voice, high and young, brash and loud. "And during sex I'll gather up tons of power. Every time I have sex."

  "That's perverted." Another female voice. "Dragons mate once, and then . . . Eat."

  "That's why you dragons have lost your magic. Once in your whole life time. That's pathetic."

  Edmo suppressed a grin. :: Teenagers here are even worse informed than I was at that age. ::

  The last man looked around in astonishment. :: You were a child once? You?::

  Edmo sent him a rude gesture, then got down to business.

  ". . . Can't believe you didn't notice how to do it, when it's so obvious, Septimus." He could see the speaker in the firelight, swaggering away from the opposing group. Curvy and blonde; he was going to get a real charge out of killing her.

  "Ha! Like you can do it." The leader on the other side crossed her arms and sneered.

  A third girl poked her. "If Tromp says she can . . . "

  Septimus pushed her. "Don't touch me." She whipped back to Tromp, standing with her arms crossed, smirking. "And you, Human, you just leave us Dragons alone, you with your sex and power nonsense . . . "

  "It's not nonsense! It is an excellent way to gain power."

  "Ha! Go on, just try and change me!"

  Edmo spotted Amgo. They had the natives surrounded.

  Tromp tromped away from Septimus, and as she passed one of the few boys, a smirk crossed her face and she whipped a spell around and hit him with it.

  He flopped to the ground and thrashed. "Ow, ow, ow!" He clawed at his clothes and the other kids closed in to watch.

  With that excellent distraction, Edmo was opening his mind to give the command when the mental shield clamped down around them.

  He spun, looking for the enemy. No one in sight. Either the teens were ensuring privacy, or they'd just walked into a trap. It was even interfering a bit with the group integration, if they needed to form a compass, they'd have to physically touch.

  Edmo touched Amgo's shoulder. "Hostages," he breathed, and the word went up the line. Quivering under the pressure of the shield, he joined them in the quiet rush toward the teenagers.

  "Woo! Primo, you're pretty!"

  "Am not! I'm handsome."

  "Me next! Me next!"

  Tromp glared at Septimus. "Ask me nicely or I won't do it to you."

  "You stupid little human! I can't think of a single reason I shouldn't kill you and eat you."

  "Other than the fact that I won't let you?" Trump snickered. "I'm a . . . Hey!" Tromp spotted them, but it was too late. "Who are you? Ow!"

  He twisted Tromp's arm up behind her. He raised his own shield against mental communications, so they couldn't summon help. "There's more of you than we need for hostages, so behave or we'll kill some of you just for the fun of it." Tromp squirmed harder; someone had taught her enough to know which direction she ought to move. Edmo was having to use both hands to keep her under control.

  None the kids were listening. Tromp started kicking, and the loose kids were pairing up and moving in on the team. One boy bounced up and threw a damn fine kick, if he'd had any weight to go with it, Ijbo would be down instead of cursing and trying to retaliate. But the thrashing girl he was holding hit a knee cap, redoubling the cursing. Another girl got in a lucky kick and squirmed away from Okde. Okde reached for his holster, and looked alarmed to find it empty.

  "One of them has my pistol, watch out!" Three girls danced around Okde as he drew his knife.

  A new girl appeared out of thin air. "Tromp, change all the dragons!"

  Edmo felt spells flying around, and let go of Tromp with one hand to throw a spell at the new girl. She seemed to be doing the most magic, but he couldn't diagnose the spells. She blocked the spell easily.

  Edmo jerked Tromp over closer and reached for
the other girl. She ducked easily and snapped a hand out to grab and twist his little finger while she lashed out with a kick. He twisted so it just grazed his ribs, and Tromp slipped from his grasp.

  The new girl backed away and tossed a spell at him. Something he had no shield for, but it didn't seem to have done anything to him.

  The loose kids were stalking the team, picking up firewood as improvised clubs. Some burning. And the girls being held were squirming and angry. Not the intimidated, frightened children he’d expected.

  Edmo threw a stun spell at the magic girl. It hit her shields, and bounced. The native magic was stronger than he'd realized. A push spell staggered her, then something hit the back of his knees. He lashed out, actually pausing a moment at the sight of the small dragon tumbling away from him.

  "Tromp, change the dragons." The new girl had a little girl's voice, but it was full of command.

  Tromp was holding hands with two other girls. She dropped one hand made an abrupt gesture. Her magic spilled over the battlefield without barrier. Or obvious effect. It wasn't the sort of spell he had any experience with. A chill ran down his spine. We've badly underestimated these people.

  The men looked at her, the little red dragon that was getting ready to attack him again, and then up and around for something more formidable.

  They didn't expect dragons in their midst. And for some of them, in their arms. The thrashing, writhing girls started changing.

  He watched in disbelief as his men discovered it was difficult to break a neck as pliable as a dragon's. Perhaps if they'd been prepared . . . But they just weren't expecting the necks they were holding to lengthen, twist and allow the former pretty teenager one was holding to bite their face. Nor for the kicks to turn into clawed grabs.

  The dragons' worst problem seemed to be the clothing they were trapped in, but the sharp claws took care of that quickly.