The God of Assassins (Wine of the Gods Book 11) Read online

  "Could be. No one will tell me anything."

  Staven grunted and shoved himself upright. Carefully. Left arm only. "So, help me get dressed. They'll tell me."

  Uncle Day opened his mouth, then shut it and headed for the wardrobe. "Uniform or civilian?"

  "Uniform."

  He didn't pass out getting dressed.

  He made it to the front door on his own. And found Uncle Day's favorite horse waiting for him.

  "Uncle Day . . ."

  "I know, a damned Travelers' pinto. But they won't let me into the palace, so this is the only way I can help. Don't let him fall off, Solstice. Protect him."

  The horse nodded. Staven blinked back tears. Devil always carried on like he understood too.

  The old stallion sidled up to the steps, and stood like a rock to be mounted.

  Staven glanced back once, to see his mother on the porch, a death grip on Uncle Day's arm. It's all right Mom. I'm no longer a threat to anyone. In the military or for the succession. At least . . . they won't think I'm a threat.

  They're wrong.

  ***

  "I could see Rebo and Keith, both drunk and unfamiliar with the hazards of the Rip, going too far down and getting into the wrong pool. And I can see Staven trying to rescue Rebo and getting taken. But Staven survived, and their pretty scenario is blown. On top of Staven's testimony, several people saw three people going off alone, and the other diners saw Staven leave by the front door, with the dancer."

  Xen listened closely to Wacolm's report.

  With the resignation of the head of Security, Colonel Janic had added the investigation to his Intel duties, and put his top man on it.

  His eyes drifted to the form propped up against the back wall. Prince Staven looked like he was staying upright in his chair by sheer will power. There was a furious glint in his eyes. Better than despair, but heaven help the assassins, or their employer, if Staven is their judge.

  "None of the witnesses recognized Prince Rebo or Lord Keith and they gave false names." Major Wacolm wrinkled his nose. "And our roll call is short a man."

  Xen nodded. "Dusty and Indigo were both very clear visualizers. I recognized Heso and Zap who were both at the wedding orgy, and from the descriptions, may have been the facilitators of the incident at the Temple museum six and a half years ago. They're straight wizards, quite strong. I think Del is Eldon Kissison from Gemstone who I met at the Wizard School. I haven't seen him for years, so I may be wrong. And I'll ask at Prairie Coast, see if anyone recognizes any of the others.

  "Brac had a very strong illusion on. They could see that it was an illusion, but couldn't see through it. Not that they tried, it was all a fun game. From their description of his height and build, he could have been either Eternal or Ricardo, both of whom were at the wedding orgy. Ricardo has known Rebo for at least five years, and ran off with him once, that I know of. Or it could have been anyone else that size and shape. A bit under six feet, wiry, slightly under weight build.

  "Four of the women are complete unknowns. Two, Kessi and Skori, are two of the Auralian whores my rotation group picked up, who were involved in the One World infiltration."

  Xen scowled at his notes. "Now, they were playing with illusions. So none of these identifications is solid. I'll see if I can track down the other two, Nor and Donner, in one of the wizard groups." He glanced over at Colonel Janic. "Unless you have them tucked away somewhere?"

  "We have your Donnor. Jeri. He was the manager, so he was still there when we arrived. The others were long gone, and all the women except your three witches, who, from all the evidence simply rode into a setup and were added to the fun and games. Jeri is singing like a little songbird, unfortunately he doesn't seem to know much about it. He was hired by someone he doesn't know to set up an orgy. He invited himself, and a trio of witches when they showed up. The Auralian women, three of them, were occasional entertainers, not permanent employees." The colonel drummed his fingers on the table. "Dammit, we've been watching them, for the last eight months. Tracked them a couple of times when one or two went off to 'beauty spas' for a few days. We got lax. Two of those Auralian women—not the ones at the Edge—were here for the last week, minding all five of the children. We've got their house under observation—more observation—in hopes that the three we want will show up. We can pull these two in any time, but perhaps, Lieutenant Wolfson, you can figure out where the missing women went, in some fashion that will no doubt make me queasy.

  "Apart from that, Captain Easterly, Lieutenants Wolfson, and Janic, continue to canvass the magical communities and see if you can find any of these people. We'll hit it from the other side, looking at motives and how the two princes were lured out there." Janic's eyes drifted toward Staven as well.

  "Actually," Xen stepped over to the prince. "Do you recognize these women?" He pulled out an illusion spell, remembered the faces of the other Auralian women . . . Jasi, Wenda and Lida. His own memories, from years ago. Were they all involved? How did they meet Ricardo?

  Staven leaned awkwardly, poked left handed at the insubstantial picture hanging in mid-air. "That's the one who tried to kill me. Who is she?"

  "Jasi. Five years ago she was a whore in Auralia. She took up with Baylor Trehem."

  Janic nodded. "We've got their house in Havwee and Lester Gannis' family home under observation. We'll arrest any of them we can find. And ask their . . . supporters some pointed questions."

  Dismissed, they clustered for a brief conference.

  "Where do we go from here?" Deena frowned at her notes.

  "The House of Six Prostitutes." Xen wrinkled his nose. "Maybe I can pick up some stray thoughts. Or . . . get a bit pushy."

  ***

  Staven eyed Wacolm.

  The officer in charge of the investigation wasn't one of the bodyguards, well known and familiar. Nor one of the army officers he'd worked with. No, he was Janic's top man. Undercover, spying, intel. And, apparently, investigation.

  "I assume you've talked to the page who brought me the note from Rebo?" He was glad to hear that at least his voice was firm. Three days. I've lost three days. One apparently with the Goddess of Health, herself. And more than one fading in and out at mother's. And half of today, listening to weirdos. Who is that Wolfson? Another one of Janic's people, obviously. But . . . he'd spoken of wizards and illusions as if they were everyday items. That . . . picture of the women's faces. Yeah. Illusions.

  Wacolm was eyeing him worriedly. "Yes, and the note itself. Everyone agrees that it is in Rebo's handwriting."

  Staven nodded. "Yes, and he was up to some mischief. He thought. You know, well, the regular guards know how he smirks . . . smirked . . . when he was about to pull another damned stunt."

  A guard had walked up while they were talking, and nodded at that. And took up position at his shoulder.

  "Passe, you my guard?"

  "Yes, sir. And Belew will be outer perimeter, this shift."

  "Poor sods." Staven swung his gaze back to Wacolm. "I think I want to have a chat with that page."

  "He's, umm, reassigned to running notes around the HQ building, and handy to make himself available to us, whenever and wherever we want." Wacolm looked him up and down. A small smile came and went. Approval? "So, I take it I need to find you an office?"

  "That works." Staven followed him out.

  Wacolm's office was five floors up. Passe hovered, but Staven made it all the way up. Hopefully not wobbling, however much he felt like fainting.

  "Magic Central is about a quarter of the fourth floor, so both the guards and intel can grab them, as needed."

  "I don't think I ever heard about them, before."

  "Well, it started about forty years ago, but Lebonift was just too handy at exploring other worlds to keep home, and then we lost a couple of other people . . . Rufi started it up again recently. Lefty, Easterly, Janic junior and Wolfson are pretty much the whole department. They've tapped a couple of what they call mages out of the army, and are t
rying to recruit some witches. That battle we had with the One World people was . . . interesting"

  "I . . . Who is that Wolfson? He knows about illusions. He can . . . make them."

  "A country lord straight out of one of Rufi's tall tales. He's a friend of Garit's. They went through the rotation together."

  "He knew that woman . . . "

  "Yes. Six of the lords in that rotation . . . picked up some Auralian whores and kept them for mistresses. She was one of them, and apparently two others were in the hotsprings with Rebo. Janic and I have people watching the two that are at their house here, and all of the men."

  "Garit . . . knew that woman?"

  Passe sighed, behind him. "Prince Garit is under observation. And being guarded. Heavily. So is Mirk, but . . ."

  "But he's a desk-bound bureaucrat, notably lacking other points of suspicion?" Staven tried to blame his nausea and faintness on the climb, loss of blood, not contemplating his . . . technically Garit was his uncle, but since he was seven months younger than Staven, they'd been almost like brothers, near twins. And Rebo, our mutual little brother. Garit would not kill Rebo. He wouldn't.

  Wacolm walked out on the fifth floor. "That's my office. And Bateson's out at the Edge, so you'd best take his office over. Third door. I don't think you're up to another couple of flights."

  Staven nodded. "Not this week, at any rate."

  "Pull the page bell three times and they'll know to send young Markly up."

  Staven checked the ropes, and pulled the green one three times. Then headed for the third door. He definitely needed to sit down.

  The boy that showed up was neither bouncing nor bright-eyed. Passe, lounging in the doorway, summoned him with a crook of his finger.

  "Sit down. Markly, is it?" Staven watched the boy pale, and wondered if he was actually going to faint. "Yeah, I feel like that too. Sit. Tell me about the note. Did you see Rebo?"

  "Yes, sir." Subdued voice, guilt stricken. "He'd already left his room and was waiting out in the hallway."

  "He had the note?"

  "Yes sir, in an envelope, sealed. Nothing written on it. 'Take this to the Spear Prince.' He was all sneery, like usual. Sometimes people call you that too, so I was about to ask, when he said, 'my dear brother.' So I took it and popped upstairs to your rooms."

  "How long do you think it took? A few minutes?"

  "One, maybe." The boy squirmed. "I get yelled at for running."

  "And I sent you to fetch my horse. Did you see Rebo's horse?"

  "No sir, she was already gone. The family's horses are all right there in the front." He frowned. "When I went to the barn, I went through the side entrance, she wasn't there, either."

  Staven nodded. "And we almost always use the side entrance when we're riding. Rebo must have had his horse waiting, and left as soon as he gave you the message." He leaned back and considered five flights of stairs. Eyed Passe, and then the boy. "Markly, pop out to the barn and ask the grooms how long before me Rebo had his horse readied."

  The boy got all wide-eyed and leapt to his feet. "Yes, sir!" he bolted out the door.

  A snort, and Wacolm leaned around the door jamb. "Going to train the boy in investigation?"

  Staven grinned. "I've got to train myself first, sir."

  "What are you looking for?"

  "I left immediately, couldn't have been more than a few minutes behind Rebo. But he was waiting for me, with that End of the World honey trap all set up. He wasn't wearing riding clothes. No horse in sight, although the stable boy was quick enough to take mine away." Staven shrugged. Tried to conceal a wince. Right shoulder badly wrenched. But I'm not nearly as sore as I ought to be. "I'm not saying he couldn't have done it, but that wizard fellow was talking about illusions, and looking like other people."

  Wacolm's eyes narrowed. "So can we establish whether that was Rebo handing over the note, or not?"

  Light running steps. Markly wasn't even out of breath. "They saddled Black Magic just after noon. He must have come and gone again, just tying her . . . or should I ask if someone held her?"

  "Yes." Staven smiled a bit as the boy ran off. "Smart kid. Maybe you ought to train him."

  Wacolm snorted, and disappeared for a moment. "Jimes Macay is one of the men I have running about collecting information. I've sent him to back up your page, in case people get snotty about a kid questioning them. I'll have him report to you." He frowned. "And I'll find you a secretary. For writing reports. I suspect your handwriting is going to be atrocious, for awhile."

  "Oh." Staven blinked and glanced down at his right . . . arm. "Yeah. I was thinking I ought to have worked harder at the left handed sword work . . . didn't think about writing." He felt his smile broadening. "Typical damned Sword Prince, always chop, chop, chop with the sword, yes?"

  Passe grinned. "You almost got Captain Braken's accent right. I remember him tearing into Fossi all the time. You were always better. Or got away with more, maybe."

  "Got a courtesy uncle who likes board games that use strategy. Saved me a lot of grief once I was in training. Old Gods know I didn't study as much as they thought I ought."

  Passe sniffed. "I never did understand why they made you do the two year rotation. You were always going to be in the Army."

  "Umm, I think they wanted a bunch of senior officers to give their opinions. And it gave me a good dose of experience, a solid introduction to four different forts. Mind you, I was never brilliant. I tried to not be an arrogant ass and act like I already knew everything. Old Gods, was I just sixteen?"

  "They'd have waited another year, but." Passe snapped his mouth shut suddenly.

  Staven sighed. "But Rebo was getting out of hand, and Garit was getting just as snotty. I was . . . trying to be Rebo's friend and a good influence, but it seemed to drive a wedge between us. Rufi didn't like seeing that in the Crown and Spear Heirs. He thought separating us until Rebo grew up a bit more . . . " Staven winced. "Eventually I'll try to just remember what he was like, before he hit fourteen. And forget the rest. But for now, I'm probably going to have to dig into his bad years.

  "I've tried to avoid the gossip about that orgy in the Temple of Ba'al. Guess I ought to have listened, instead. What can you tell me about that . . . boy. Ricardo, wasn't it?"

  Wacolm shook his head. "He was a bit later. The two in the Temple . . . Easterly and Deena went after them, didn't catch them. I double checked the records, the descriptions match this Heso and Zap that Wolfson identified. Ricardo showed up . . . Oh, two years later? Younger than Rebo. Old Gods, he was a pretty little boy! Vicious and sly. Led Rebo around by the . . . nose. I'll bet he's knee deep in this mess."

  Staven winced. "Hopefully Easterly can find him. And the others. I wouldn't mind this being simple and clear."

  Passe nodded. "The succession needs to be clean." He winced and dragged his eyes away from Staven's arm. "Without whispers about murder."

  Staven nodded. "Yes."

  ***

  "Even when I pushed it, the best I could get was wistful 'I like it here, I don't want to go down south.' And 'I hate the desert.' And 'We can't possibly make more money than we do here.' And 'It's just a cat house, nothing special.' They all are wondering if the kids are old enough to help. And I need to scrub my brain, after seeing how they think the kids could be useful." Xen eyed Deena. "Any chance your dad will let us snatch the kids before anything happens?"

  She snorted. "This place won't last another month. Once we give up on the assassination trio coming back, this place is history."

  Easterly grimaced. "And I won't even guess how many bordellos there are in the desert south of here. I hope to hell we don't have to search them all."

  Colonel Janic tapped on the door as he walked in. "And let's not concentrate so hard on the hands that we forget the head. Someone hired that lot. They've got no reason to kill Rebo. So, Xen, let's just take a walk over to Matthew Gallery's home. I think we need to check on what the God of Art has been up to, lately."

  "
Has he been seen?" Xen abandoned his desk with alacrity.

  "No. And I have no idea if you can tell whether or not he's been in and out of his bubbled museum."

  "Can't hurt to look."

  Unfortunately, the bubble holding the museum was no longer there.

  Xen sighed. "Well, I think I can safely say that he's been here, and gone."

  Chapter Five

  Winter 1393, day 5

  Rip Crossing, Desolation Territory

  "So what I want to try is a mage circle, with all double sourcers, and see if we can see dimensional bubbles at a distance." Xen eyed the other magicians.

  Orion eyed him back.

  Xen sighed. "I'm looking for the God of Art's museum. He had it bubbled, and left it behind when he ran away from Lord Hell. He came back and got it, sometime in the last year. I haven't actually been checking all that frequently."

  Korbin started grinning. "God hunting? Ooo, sounds like fun!"

  "Yeah! We're in!" Heads popped through the door. Young ones.

  Orion groaned. "Will you three please go home? You are too young, and you are not going to be invited to any orgies. Got it?"

  Xen looked over at the triplets. Trump plus the God of Just Deserts. Scary. "You guys are what, fourteen?"

  "We'll be fifteen in just a few months, Xen. We grasped power early, so we have five years experience. And we've all had lessons from Ras; we know the Mage chants." William was the talker of the trio.

  Peter just cracked his knuckles and grinned.

  Phillip pulled a coin out of his pocket. "Heads we help, tails we slink off home." He flicked the coin.

  Xen caught it, examined it. "Amazing. And here I thought you'd have a double headed royal."

  "Cheating doesn't work. It's all about taking chances."

  Chance? No, you lot look so much like Hell it boggles. Three sons of gods, glowing . . .

  "And we don't have the kind of connection to Rip that you properly ought to avoid, just now." William smirked at Orion.