Young Warriors (Wine of the Gods Book 10) Page 6

  "I think that one's after you, Xen." Garit looked amused. "Her eyes follow you."

  It all got written up in reports.

  Along with suspicious characters, or odd occurrences.

  Lord Matthew had the indefinable agelessness of a god and an impressive mental block. Magically speaking, he simply wasn't there. Xen watched the man circulate, looking over the women like a man in a meat market who wanted a really fine steak for dinner. He danced with several, and stepped out onto the veranda with a dewy eyed innocent for a few moments. They were out of sight for a few seconds and then walked back in. Lady Cio looked a bit unsteady, and elected to sit with some other women for awhile. Lord Matthew approached the hosts, then departed.

  Xen had always been good at long distance telepathy. Dad nodded his recognition of the man.

  :: Marty Beta. We started calling him Arty. The God of Art. He sealed himself and some friends up a thousand years ago, to ride out the comet. Too many layers, he lost a thousand years. We pried him and his museum out from behind his shields just before the last one. He wasn't inclined to help, and took himself and his museum away. I haven't a clue where he's been since. This is the first I've heard of him since. Be careful. ::

  :: Will do. :: Xen remembered the museum, mainly for the statues of the horses. Real horses encased in inside-out bubbles. That's where Pyrite came from. I was . . . five years old? I seem to recall other statues, some human. Surely those weren't real people?

  Janic looked downright bilious over that report. "Magic. That's all I need." He eyed Xen dyspeptically, but didn't add anything more.

  But Lord Matthew had done nothing more objectionable than buy a house in town and spend money furnishing it. He spent a lot of time in art galleries and quickly became a patron of the museums in the city.

  "He's some collateral relative of the Falonis', according to them. But they all sound alike when asked about him. They all parrot the same thin responses. Aunt Jeli's son, isn't he a nice looking young man? There's nothing there. No personal memories. That Uncle introduced him to the bank manager. He trades in gold. Had market receipts to deposit." Janic drummed his fingers on his desk. "In a possibly related problem, Lord Bikon has asked my opinion of the man, after he singled out his daughter for attention. It seems Lady Cio is having horrible nightmares every night. She can't have been out of sight with him more than a few minutes. I had one of the Girls go gossip with the staff, to no avail. Take a casual seeming look at her, at the next outing."

  Xen nodded. "Just keep telling yourself that the old gods are simply strong magic users, nothing religious about them, nor anything particularly saintly, except maybe for Harry. They can be bad as well as good. I'll keep an eye on him if he shows up at this coming out thingy you've somehow gotten me invited to. How do you do that?"

  The colonel looked smug and didn't say a thing.

  Two days later, at Lady Jillia's debutante ball, Lord Matthew was nowhere in sight. Lady Cio had a facade of enjoyment and enthusiasm erected over near panic. Xen danced once with her and knew at the first touch that something very odd had happened. When he'd danced with her a few weeks ago, he'd picked up the usual excited-virgin-in-the-arms-of-a-man feelings from her. Today she was a young mother. What the hell happened? She was only gone for a moment . . . but a moment can be something else inside a bubble. What happened to you, Cio? Xen suspected that Cio didn't know either. Could Arty have kept her for nearly a year to get a baby from her? Why?

  Well, she was young and beautiful, and had a lot of magic genes, which gave her some extra sparkle, even without the power genes. Nothing like the fireworks of a witch, but Xen had always thought she was one of the more attractive of the ladies here in town.

  A month later, Lord Matthew held a coming out party for his daughter, Lady Eden. The girl had Lord Matthew's tall elegance, and odd reddish brown eyes. Her hair was a much lighter brown, but her features quite a bit like Lady Cio's.

  Seventeen year old Prince Rebo, the Crown Prince's second son and heir to the throne after him, was enchanted.

  Colonel Janic actually complained when they were swapped to the training grounds. "I want them back for the Spring soirées, damnit!"

  The training was, for Xen, more in battlefield tactics and strategy than weapons. He qualified quickly in everything but lances, and was a good enough rider to work up to Captain Buteo's standards quickly.

  He was surprised to see a few women in training.

  "Hi, Deena." Garit looked toward Xen. "They're the guards for the women of the Royal Family, and a few odd jobs in intelligence."

  Dominic smirked. "I hadn't heard about the Intel part." He leaned toward the dark haired woman. "Hey, come to bed and I'll tell you all my secrets."

  "Dominic, don't . . ." Garit's warning came too late. Dominic hit the ground hard.

  "Nice judo throw!" Xen also admired the hard muscled athletic appearance of the young woman doing the throwing. And tried really hard to not let his appreciation show. Darn it, those hormones aren't as low as they used to be.

  "Now, Deena!" Dominic croaked. "Don't be like that."

  "Like what?" Deena stared down at him, but didn't do anything as he climbed back to his feet. "Smart enough to not fall at your feet?" She stalked off.

  "Ouch. Met her in Internal Security." Dominic climbed stiffly to his feet. "I played guard to the little boy tykes and she played guard to the little girl tykes."

  "Royal tykes, and it's not play, Dominic. Even though they've adopted the name 'The Girls' because so many officers couldn't seem to figure out how to say 'Guard' when the soldier in question was female. They are not, umm, honey traps. Not even the women in Intel."

  "Well, where's the fun in that?"

  Garit was less than sympathetic. "C'mon, Captain Buteo saw that and I know what it means."

  Dominic groaned. "More hand-to-hand drill. Probably with Xen beating us up."

  It was, and Deena was brought back and she beat up well over half the men. Neither Xen nor Garit were among the beaten, and Garit laughed and accused her of not being able to bring herself to really hit him. Xen had to extend himself, but he'd sparred with his younger sister for years, so he wasn't surprised by the lower center of gravity. For Xen, a man was brought in from his duty post and they mixed it up marvelously, with Xen eventually being declared the winner on points.

  "Xen, is there anyone who can regularly beat you?" Garit asked.

  "My dad and my little sister."

  "I want to meet her." The former King's Own Champion called from his prone position on a bench. "But not until the bruises fade."

  Xen got a bit of ceremonial guard duty, but then was recaptured by the intelligence section to finish off the posting.

  It was, over all, a very pleasant six months, with the ten of them often dining 'in town' as they called it politely, and the 'house of six prostitutes' impolitely. The women were excellent hostesses, and their six lovers developed a rather domesticated and smug air about themselves. The group discussed anything and everything, and Xen, after consulting with Janic had passed on some spurious news that never resurfaced in any other venues, very much to the relief of Janic and his superiors. The women might be Auralian, but there were no signs that they were spies.

  Rally spent a beautiful spring day in gibbering terror, then Hoon presented him with a beautiful baby boy. Shortly thereafter Lida gave the fatuous Dominic a daughter. Several months later Jasi and Wenda both had daughters, then Kessi a boy. The day before they left for Fort Iceberg, Skori delivered a baby boy.

  Chapter Five

  Late Spring 1389

  Fort Iceberg, Ice Valleys Province

  Garit was relieved to get out of Karista, and away from his family, again. And missed them. Rebo had been about half the irritant he had been just a year earlier. Did he change, or did I? And it had been great to see Staven again. Rebo's older half brother who would inherit command of the Army. The older boy had always been a cross between a big brother and a friend. Garit hadn
't realized how much he'd missed him in the two years since Staven had gone on his own rotation.

  The ride to Ice Valleys was tedious, with the proud papas bragging all the way north. The fathers of sons somehow thought they deserved extra virility points. They'd left the women and babies behind, ensconced in their nice house, swearing to return in six months.

  Xen just ignored them. Keith was inclined to whine, and grumbled that he ought to have stuck with the others and "bagged a cheap Mistress." Xen, out of his sight, rolled his eyes and ignored him. This was their last half year, and Garit wondered what the men were going to do with their mistresses and children, once they'd lost their Army pay, and had to fall back on their families' largesse.

  Fort Iceberg was centrally placed, between coast and mountains, and patrolled a wide area for bandits, of which they had a surprising number.

  Colonel Sommers waved at a large map covering his wall. "There are dozens of little villages up these fertile little side valleys. They produce much of the fruit crop of the kingdom, and have no way to defend against raids. Nearly half the villages pay the bandits to stay away, despite that being illegal."

  The rotation group was split up among the regular patrols. The experienced officers treated them like nuisances. The troopers eyed them carefully. Garit hoped they'd relax around him once they realized he was competent, and not inclined to throw his title around.

  Even Gannis and Kemper had had enough work in the last year and a half to merely be stuck up.

  Garit, Asti and Xen were assigned to the same troop. The sergeant looked them over and nodded approval, then they mounted up and rode out. The northern valley was hot and dry in mid summer.

  Lieutenant Montiego led the troop up into the foothills, and wound up along a creek into higher terrain. It was pleasant, in the shade of giant oaks. Water trickled somewhere under the heavy brush that filled the lower ravine. They were riding two by two, with Garit getting pride of place, so to speak, up at the front with Lieutenant Montiego. The man was in his early twenties, a local, by his accent.

  "So, you rotated through Fort Oven?"

  Garit grinned at the nickname. "Yep. Farofo's even hotter than here, but not by much. And doesn't have much of a winter, to speak of."

  "Do much patrolling, there?"

  "None mounted. I was with the archers, watching the Old South Road. I suppose I should consider it good luck that there was only one bandit attack while I was there."

  The Lieutenant grinned. "We'll try to find you something to fight, up here. It's been a bad year for bandits.

  The ravine kinked, and they trotted around a sharp bend.

  A clump of horses, both ridden and carrying packs. The men were scruffy. Bearded and armed.

  "Soldiers!" The lead man hauled his horse to a stop.

  Curses. Two men pushed past the leader, drawing swords.

  Montiego reached for his sword. Garit drew his as he booted Clowny forward. He managed to knock the man's sword point downward, heeled Clowny around to get her hindquarters out of the way of the sword, broke contact, lunged as Clowny jumped forward. The bandit parried, threw his hands up and collapsed. A trooper jerked his sword out of the man's back. A horse shot past him; Xen intercepted a bandit Garit hadn't even noticed. Blood flew.

  Without time to haul out their lances, nor distance enough to get up speed for a charge, it was all sword work, and chaos. And blood and yelling. An injured horse screamed. He sent Clowny into a knot of fighters where a soldier had gotten separated and surrounded. Chopped down at a bandit, leaning to stab the haunch of a bandit's mount as the rider swung at the uniformed man. "Get back," he yelled. The embattled trooper, Old Gods, it was Asti, hauled his horse back, blocked a swing, stabbed, backed. Xen charged in, a swing of his sword and a head fell to one side, the body the other. He stabbed to the other side and another bandit collapsed. More troops came in the other side, and suddenly the bandits were running. Garit booted Clowny forward, yelled at two troopers to join him. They managed to run one fellow down, two others escaped, losing themselves in a maze of winding narrow paths through the brush. Garit cursed, and ordered the troops back to the main road. Should I have kept after them? Not a good idea to chase them into their familiar ground, with limited sight lines, and limited maneuverability. Damn it all! It's just common sense, not cowardice!

  Back on the road, they rejoined the patrol.

  Two troopers were down. A dozen bandits, dead, wounded and captured. A damn good haul. Even if a few got away.

  Xen straightened from the two injured troopers, hip flask in hand.

  Garit rode up in time to hear him ask if he ought to treat the prisoners.

  Asti stood up shakily, examining his bloody arm. A long red line, it looked shallow, and Garit breathed a sigh of relief.

  "No. We'll haul them up before the judge, then hang them all." Montiego looked around and relaxed as he spotted Garit. "Once they get into the brush, we rarely chase them. They know the ground and can set up ambushes."

  Garit nodded. "Yeah, two of them got away."

  Montiego nodded. "Right. Let's go check the village up here. I suspect the packs on the horses have stuff they're missing."

  Indeed.

  The bandits had apparently hit while most of the men and women were out in the orchard. One group of women down at the stream washing clothing had fled into the brush, and the oldsters who'd tried to block the bandits had been beaten, but not killed. The loot consisted mostly of foodstuffs, and very little of monetary value.

  The villagers sorted through the packs and the old men identified the now frightened prisoners.

  Xen doled out some of his wine, and the oldsters perked up.

  Garit eyed his cousin. "Magic wine?"

  Xen's quick grin flashed. "Yep."

  Asti nodded. "I believe it. I mean . . . I don't believe how my arm healed."

  Garit shivered. "Well, we all survived."

  It happened so fast . . . and chaotically. Any of us could have been killed. I need to pay more attention to tactics, even in a scrum like that.

  I didn't actually kill any of them. I . . . don't know if that's good or bad.

  ***

  Xen had not realized that Ash's ability to handle any bandits that showed up was so rare, or so extreme. Or that he'd get so many odd looks. He'd fought his first bandits when he was eleven years old, and killed his first at thirteen.

  " . . . out-and-out killed seven. Never seen anything like it . . . " One of the troopers talked to a friend, with an uneasy glance in Xen's direction.

  Xen pretended he hadn't heard. Tried to hide a touch of queasiness. My father is the God of War. How could I not be good with a sword? They'd ridden straight into the town of Apple Valley. The Duke's Seat, almost a small city. Where a judge had taken their accounts, spoken to the two villagers who'd come down with them, and pronounced the bandits guilty. And then the troops had hung them.

  Garit was still pale, and Asti was retching in the bushes.

  "All things considered." Xen studied the clear blue sky. "I'd rather have killed them in battle."

  Garit nodded. "Let's grab Asti, and go get cleaned up."

  Colonel Sommers rode into town—the fort was just a few miles beyond the city wall—and conferred with the Duke.

  He returned, ready for a minor war.

  "We split up the area, the Duke's armsmen will lead the local militia through these canyons to the west, and we'll comb the eastern valleys. I've sent a note to Duke Kestle, hopefully he'll send the Hester Mountain Province militias in from the other direction. I've also alerted Fort Stag; they'll sweep northward, so no one escapes. This raid you walked into was the fourth this month. There's got to be either a hell of a lot of little bandit gangs up in the hills, or one very large one. If they've forted up somewhere, we need to find them and clean them out."

  Colonel Sommers went about it very methodically. They combed the hills, probed into the low mountains that covered the borders between Ice Valleys and Hester
Mountain Provinces. Then they moved into the mountains, and through to meet up with the Hester Mountain militias.

  "We had a few skirmishes, captured a couple of them and questioned them before we hung them." The Armsman's lips pressed together. He may not have liked it, but he wasn't going to admit that any illegal torture had taken place. "They both said there were a couple hundred men and they've built themselves a fort, up in the Divide. No one's warned us, he said, because they've got hostages. Women taken from the closest villages."

  Colonel Sommers scowled across the valley. Distance and the dusty haze hid the distant giants of the mountain range.

  Xen pictured it clearly. He'd climbed and explored around the high mountains of the Divide most of his life, but not very far north of the Old North Road. The peaks might not be as tall up here as Mount Frost, but it was still a broad rugged mountain range.

  They reformed and headed across the valley.

  Xen was assigned to the scouts. He meditated every night, reaching as far into the mountains as he could. And wished he was alone. The nearby minds of the other scouts were hard to see around. The fifth night out, he felt something far to the edge of his perception. He scowled toward the southeast. I have no idea how far away that was. But I think it was the result of a large number of people in a small space.

  The next day, as they wound through rough territory, Xen angled them south a bit from their generally eastward survey. Big shoulders of granite rock formed the ridges, pine trees wedged their roots into cracks and the rubble along the stream beds.

  Sergeant Shone, putatively under Xen's command, but probably ordered by the colonel to ignore him if he ordered something stupid, frowned, but allowed Xen to divert them.

  An hour before sundown, they caught the sound of an ax, and stalked it warily.

  And found their bandits.

  Wooden barricades closed off the entry into a steep walled valley where it narrowed to the stream outlet and a rough road of rearranged and filled in rubble.