Young Warriors (Wine of the Gods Book 10) Read online

  "Really? You're almost lavender."

  Heliotrope nodded. "But I think it's what I wear, not my hair's actual color."

  Flare nodded, then sat up and paid attention as Never started talking again.

  With further sorting, Flare wound up with the youngest girls for basic exercises in collecting and disbursing power. The little girls were all named after birds, so she sat cross-legged with a Nighthawk and a Kestrel, trying to drum her fingers unobtrusively and hold the power and then let it unravel gently into the ambient sounds of the wind in the trees.

  "Now that's a very odd source indeed. Lowest frequency power collection I've ever heard of." Never said, sitting gracefully. "How did you discover it?"

  "Riding a horse with a very even constant trot."

  The little girls giggled.

  "I never connected the way I felt after riding with magical power." She looked ruefully down at her hands. "I had a horrible time disbursing the energy. I guess this is the difference between subconscious and conscious."

  "Exactly. We'll at least send you home able to disburse the energy. You're from Rip Crossing?"

  "Yes, but I'm cooking for Harry now. I hate to think what they're doing to my kitchen while I'm gone."

  "Oh dear. Harry never does remember to spice anything."

  "He warned all the troops last week, and I spiced up some stuff and froze it, so maybe any chance travelers will survive. Unless they get another thaw," she added glumly. "Xen said if they did, they'd cook it all and have a feast. I think he was kidding. Harry's got some sort of magical storage that I can even see."

  "Xen's there? Don't tell me the finest young wizard in the World is still mucking out stalls."

  Flare giggled. "He says it gives him more time to talk to the horses."

  Never sighed. "It wouldn't be so bad if I didn't get the impression that they not only listen, they answer. All right, you three are doing pretty good. Nighthawk, show me a gather and disbursal please."

  Nighthawk tried, but nothing happened. Kestrel managed a bit of a glow on her second try, then couldn't repeat it.

  The next day Flare was with a slightly more advanced group and they worked on shunting power around, so one didn't collect it, and finally, the start of using power; shielding and laying charms.

  She was staying at the Twin Inn, the newly built copy of the Tavern on the site Harry's had occupied for centuries. Heliotrope followed her in.

  "I have to escape from the parents for awhile. And my sisters! The whining!" Her eyes tracked a pair of Army officers automatically, and her eyebrows climbed. "Goodness, Garit is back again?"

  Flare turned to look. Sure enough. Xen's friend and the colonel. Garit had spotted them and walked over.

  "Hi Flare. Lady Heliotrope." Garit grinned.

  Heliotrope grinned. "Come with your colonel, again? Has he accepted that Azure is a witch and can't marry him, yet? We've got a betting pool going, for how long it'll take for her to shed him."

  "After three months of occasionally coming into Ash, I think only the colonel could manage to not notice any magic. All the rest of the soldiers believe." Garit snickered. "Of course, I both wanted to believe and I've bounced some things off Xen's shield."

  Obsidian chuckled as she dropped off the teapot and cups. "We get officers like your colonel occasionally. We really do try to be a bit . . . unobtrusive in general, so we don't accidentally attract attention when we go places. So anyone with a good stubborn mind can hold out for years."

  Garit grinned. "It's not so much that he doesn't believe . . . I think he pictures magic as some sort of mechanical device, operated by a council of wise old men, who agree to take an important action maybe once a year or so."

  Obsidian giggled. Flare kept a straight face as she watched Heliotrope eyeing the older witch jealously. Not that Obsidian looked older, but her name was from the previous naming scheme so she must be close to twenty five. Maybe more. Hard to tell with witches . . .

  "And the really funny thing is I think he may be a wizard, himself."

  They all turned and looked at the poor officer.

  Obsidian nodded. "Yep, that little bit of glow. Pity he didn't run into one of the wizards when he was young enough to . . . Umm . . . "

  Garit shuddered. "We've all heard about the castration and so forth. Not worth any amount of magic."

  Obsidian eyed him. "Really? You've got a bit of glow yourself."

  Garit nodded. "Some odd version of the mage gene, according to various members of the family. Not terribly useful, so far as we can tell."

  Obsidian looked thoughtful.

  "And speaking of attractive glows . . . " Heliotrope broke off to pour tea. "Obsidian, you're family. Tell me, why does Xen run from women?"

  "Because he's been chased since he was young enough to not be interested, especially in crude and blatant advances. For all his friendly chatter, he is a very private young man, and he will not allow himself to simply be used." Obsidian scowled. "Again. The more you chase him, the more wary he will be."

  Wary? Not something I'd ever call Xen . . . but he did avoid the witches, when they were at the tavern. Has never done anything I'd call even superficial flirting with me. Flare thought about the wizard's hormone suppression, perhaps that explained it. Or perhaps he'd grown up around too many witches of the pushy, hungry sort.

  Heliotrope sighed. "He's getting so good at shielding, it's getting hard to tell he's magic at all. Until he does something. I saw him put a simple sleep spell on a drunk to keep him from causing a problem at a wedding . . . Just a brief flash, but I could see his incredible power and complexity." She looked over her shoulder at her sister, so close to her colonel. "I wish he'd love me like that. But he just runs away."

  ***

  Flare returned to the Tavern with her head, and notebook, full of more things to do, practice, memorize and study.

  They'd eaten every bite of prepared food.

  "And enjoyed it." Xen said entirely unrepentant. "We made it last until last night. Right?"

  "Right!" Kipp, Ladybug and Nick chorused, obviously practiced.

  "And all the guests loved it. Right?"

  "Right!"

  "And we did not have a traveling convoy of dubiously mannered mercenaries come through and eat damn near everything in the place the first day you were gone. Right?"

  "Right!"

  Flare tapped her foot.

  "And we didn't have to turn away guests for six nights straight. Right?"

  "Right!"

  "Do I have any basic ingredients, suitable for feeding you gluttons?"

  "I seem to recall an entire pig . . . "

  "If it's dead and in chunks, bring me about a quarter of it. Potatoes and carrots and apples."

  "Yes, ma'am!" Xen ducked out the back door, and Nick and Kipp headed for the basement.

  Ladybug hesitated. "Xen didn't have to kill any of them, even the ones that tried to steal Pyrite and Cat. The one that grabbed me got kinda burnt." She scampered off.

  Flare rubbed her face. Then as Xen walked in with paper wrapped packages of pork, she eyed him. "So, what really happened?"

  "Damn. You just can't get really good loyal minions any more. The Ladybug finked, didn't she?"

  "Yep."

  "Well the mercenaries were beat up and tired, the whores likewise. We checked that they were associating freely, they informed us that no one else was making a better offer. They got a bit light fingered as they were leaving. I had to demonstrate that I knew which end of a sword was which. One of them decided to get snotty about it and grabbed Bug. I zapped him, they went away. Not the sort of people I was hoping would settle in Ring World."

  He dumped meat on the counter.

  "You're awfully cheerful about it."

  "I, umm, don't like killing people, and for a minute there it looked like I was going to have to." Xen shrugged. "Dad says that's good, and that when killing people ceases to bother me he'll start worrying."

  "Umm, yes?" Flare w
affled horribly. "I'm really glad you didn't let them have Cat, though."

  Xen grinned crookedly. "They would not have left with Pyrite. I mean, scruples are all well and good, but Pyrite's my friend. And as for Cat, the look in Dun's eyes was scary. Made me wonder if he’d managed to pick up any battle magic, wherever he learned his illusions. But once all the soldiers realized you'd left stuff that just had to go in the oven for a while, they ate us out of house and home. I had to cook dinner from scratch last night, in self-defense. Harry was starting to boil water."

  She snickered. "Go away. I'll feed you in about, umm, three hours."

  "Yes, Ma'am. Err, no Ma'am, appointment in town. Work."

  She put her vegetable scrubbers to work, and fired up the ovens. Rubbed the roasts with pepper and lemon and set them aside. Started bread dough. Introduced Kipp to the butter churn. Rolled out pie crust and sliced apples. Checked the oven, put in the roasts . . . Home, sweet home.

  ***

  Xen sat back with a sigh of repletion.

  The four Auralian whores were great cooks.

  Or, rather, three whores and one spy. Or has Hoon recruited them all for her own purposes?

  Janic had cursed as he read Xen's report, with its verbatim transcription of Hoon's cautious conversation with what appeared to be an exploration team from the One World. Her message . . . too damn coded to be completely clear . . . but it appeared to be a simple "Here I am, what are you going to do about it?"

  And received in reply, a string of numbers that Janic's people figured was possibly identification or possibly a date. Two years and a bit from now, using numbers for the old fashioned month cycle and the day of the month.

  So Xen was spending a lot of time in Karista, watching her—now that she'd gotten back—and checking on the "Post Head." A man with a high tech base in a shabby warehouse in the docks district. At least that explained where Hoon had gotten the equipment. But the Post Head hadn't contacted anyone else. Making it less likely that the Oner gate in Discordia was active. The Earthers probably disabled the gate anchor in Fascia when they took over. Did some of them go down to Discordia and break that one too? Or perhaps Hoon couldn't scrape up the means to travel down there to check? Has she been in contact with the Post Head all along, or did she just recently find him?

  Janic wouldn't tell him how they'd found the Post Head, nor how long ago, nor how they were keeping track of him . . . But he planned on shifting a few more observers out to the crossroads. "Well before the two years is up."

  Tonight, Rally was playing the big homeowner and subduing his Bureaucratic Flunky personality. So far, the man was managing his double life with elan. Poor toad. Doesn't realize Hoon's working on, or maybe with, the God of Art. Matthew Gallery. The man Rally owes so much money to. They'll crush him between them. Unless they both need him alive and well. Wish I could get into Art's mansion, and eavesdrop on one of their meetings.

  The children made their usual brief appearance. Rufi was over two years old, talking quite a bit. Dominic's daughter, Demi was chattering away and Onray's girl Ole not far behind. Phillip's little boy Phosi was the youngest, not quite two, and the largest of the four kids.

  Rally frowned a bit at the only bump in his life. "He's not growing very fast, and even the younger two are talking more than he is."

  Xen shrugged. "Oh, all kids grow at their own rate, I wouldn't worry about it." Kid takes after me. I may have to kidnap him yet. He turned back to his wine. "I'm selfishly glad you've managed to keep this place, Rally. Sort of a private men's club."

  Dominic chuckled. "You've got that right. I think we're all spoiled. And it looks like Rally is going to be a daddy again, eh, Hoon?"

  She sighed. "Very vexing. I take herbs. I don't want to make things even more difficult." She dropped a kiss on Rally's head as she passed.

  Rally's or the God of Art's kid? Hardly matters, poor Rally's going to pay and pay and pay. Idiot.

  And Hoon is carrying on as if nothing happened. Not, so far as is obvious, planning to go home to her One World. Does she want to stay? Has she been ordered to stay?

  I suppose that party she contacted was exploring that empty world. So it wasn't like they had the authority to recall her. Probably. Or rescue her. Assuming she thinks she needs rescuing. Xen glanced around the big, luxuriously furnished mansion. Making the best of a bad situation? Or is she enjoying the lifestyle, the manipulation? I wonder how far from their gate those putative explorers were? From Oscar and Bran's reports, the Oners had temporary gates. So how often do they open them? Once a week, and the explorers would be restrained to a small area. Once a month? Once a year?

  I hate not knowing anything about them.

  Xen excused himself shortly thereafter.

  Chapter Twenty

  Late Spring 1391

  Karista, Kingdom of the West

  Xen stopped dead at the deep threatening growl. Hattie crouched in the stall door, teeth showing.

  The poor private barely glanced over his shoulder. "Oh, it's you. Hattie here has gone and had puppies and won't let me near them."

  "How'd that happen?"

  "I said something rude about a couple of young women out eyeing men. I should have noticed they were too well dressed to really be whores." The man looked glumly at the very large and protective bitch. "Next thing you know, a Hell Hound . . . "

  Xen choked, trying to not laugh. "I thought she was part Hell Hound?"

  "Yeah, but we're just in so much trouble. She's working. I'm not supposed . . . I ought to drown the pups and . . . " He jerked back, barely avoiding a snapping lunge. "See, they didn't want to breed her because of her color, they just wanted a bit of that hell hound smarts, not the big white markings that'll show up at night and such. A white dog with a few brown spots, well, I'm a bit surprised they didn't drown her.

  "I think you'd better leave her alone . . . actually what you need is a bubble with some speeded up time in it. Put Hat and the pups in it, and in a couple of days the pups will be ready to wean and sell or give away or something."

  "Speeded up time?" Private Macintry looked both hopeful and confused.

  "Yeah, say about twenty to one. I can adjust them. But see, you'll have to feed her almost continuously, at least once an hour, which would be almost the same as feeding her once a day, from her point of view. Hmm. I'll be right back." He ducked back through the corridor and grabbed a bucket for water and miscellaneous chunks of meat from the cold bubble and tucked them into a small bubble. Then back through to Karista. "I wonder if I can stick a bubble on to the inside of a stall?" That didn't work, but a framework of old lumber and a heap of straw kept the bubble open inside, and framed a door that Macintry could open and close. And open and close the bubble holding the meat. He filled the bucket from the rain barrel and placed it inside, then looked at Hattie. She'd been studying his actions for some time, while still blocking the private's access to the stall. He tossed a sizable joint of meat into the bubble.

  "It's ready, girl. Let's get your pups."

  Hattie turned around and returned with a mouthful of grunting black and white fuzz. She walked into the bubble and made herself a nest in the straw, indifferent to Macintry and Xen poking around the other stall.

  "All that noise over one puppy?" Macintry muttered.

  "I guess so. Now remember, meat once an hour and always top off the water. If you can't, like at night, then leave the door open so she doesn't starve or die of thirst twenty times faster than normal, all right?"

  "Right." Macintry was looking pretty relieved. "Uh, and clean up once an hour?"

  "Yep. And if the Army doesn't want the pup, I've got a sister living here in town who could use a guard dog."

  Xen walked to the headquarters building and handed over his written report. Janic's aide waved him over and pointed at the office. Xen poked his head around the corner and Janic pointed at a chair.

  The female guard, the same Deena he'd met in training, kept talking. "So I beat the hell out of their
rugs, but damned if I heard a word out of place. Their awareness was high. I could not get away to search, not even briefly."

  The other two uniformed women nodded. What had Garit said they'd named themselves? Girls? Probably best used in a very respectful tone of voice.

  The blonde shrugged. "I've been delivering bread every morning and gotten cozy with the one that does the cooking. But she never says anything out of line. Their husbands are busy men and they entertain quite often."

  "The neighbors have met the 'husbands', Lords Rally, Dominic, Onray and Philip. They're under the impression that the men are there all the time, and that the house is broken up internally into four separate apartments except for the big kitchen." The other brunette shrugged as well. "It's enough to make me believe in magic. No one in the entire neighborhood notices they have an upscale cathouse next door."

  Janic nodded. "Xen, can you tell if the Girls have had any sort of spells put on them?"

  "Umm, if they've been removed carefully, no." He held his hand out to the blonde. She raised an eyebrow and took his hand. Three nicely interwoven spells. Gullibility, indifference, absentmindedness. He snapped them carefully, and pulled them off completely.

  She leaped to her feet and started cursing. "Old Gods! That wretched cook was one of the whores, not even always the same one. What the hell? And I never even thought to chat up the musician or those little waifs they've turned into serving girls."

  Janic sighed. "Go look over your reports, put in new comments, if you can tell now that something different was happening."

  The new brunette had the same, and followed in the wake of the first. Cursing.

  Deena had sophisticated versions of the same. Xen blinked as he realized she was an untrained witch. Her fierce red glow was well concealed. He removed the spells carefully. "You should go get some witch training. Whether or not you want to stay in the King's Own, it'd be handy."