Wine of the Gods 05: Spy Wars (28 page)

"So do I." The General stood and watched him go. When he ought to have been out of ear shot, he heard him address Selano. "He showed you a spell?"

"Ye, yes, so to speak. And I got a good look at his brains, and they are all chewed up. I'm surprised he's on his feet and functioning. No wonder they all sound so odd."

The Auld Wulf sighed. 'All chewed up' certainly described how his brains felt. He really ought to talk to Gisele. Some of the young witches had very strong talents, did they have enough of the genes to breed a god? What would they have to do to get over that final threshold? Could they find men, young wizards to meet them, and hopefully raise up new gods whose brains had not been chewed up and spat back into their heads?

"Someday," he sighed. "Hopefully
after
I find out if it's a good idea."

5
Jumada 1367 / Spring 1365 local

Karista
, Kingdom of the West, Target Forty-two

Ajha thought that Holy Captain Cuffi looked like a very unhappy man.

"You are certain? Absolutely certain?"

"Yes," Cuffi squirmed. "That was the drunken sot that made wine in that Valley. In Ash." He darted a glance through the wrought iron fence to the training grounds of the King's Own.

"But you said all the men were killed?"

"Well, in the main village. A conqueror can't kill all the farmers, now can he? Not if he wants to eat the next year. And the old man who ran the Tavern wasn't a threat to anyone. The miller and that drunk lived outside the village. Oh, and the drooling idiot that herded the sheep. The butcher was an arrant coward. He hid the whole time down in his cold room. The Inquisitor General, that is, The Holy Mother, said the scent of blood hid him from the Goat." He squirmed. "Actually, I didn't see any evidence of anyone being killed, other than there were a lot of pregnant women and very few men."

The
old spy ran a fingernail over his teeth. "And now this 'drunk' visits General Negue. Thank you, Holy Captain, you've been very helpful."

Cuffi hunched his shoulders and walked away. Usse had dragged him around to this street near General Negue's residence specifically to view this visitor. Ajha closed his eyes, opened them. From a hundred meters away, the tall man simply wasn't there to his inner senses. Only very powerful, very well trained people could manage that. There wasn't even the dull animal glow of a complete no-talent. There wasn't anything there at all. The training grounds of the King's Own were located next to a public thoroughfare, and it was common for people to stop and watch when the troops were practicing. General Rufi being out here himself had brought out more watchers than usual, and Ajha strolled
around to get the best look he could of the 'drunk'. The man's swordplay was brilliant, so fast Ajha suspected he could hold his own with one of the One's Dueling Masters. Short grey hair and beard, too far away for him to gauge the man's age based on wrinkles and so forth. He strolled on, and met up with Usse partway back to the warehouse. "What now? We could probably get there fairly quickly."

"Cuffi said the man lived out of the village, so it may take time to find him.
Even with the diamond line for a cross check. But. Without the Action Team, you must only locate him, not act in any way aggressively. You will need assistance when you locate him.

"This winter we will study the King's Own, and the Palace staff. We need to know how many magically inclined people are closely associated with the government." Usse led the way into the warehouse.
"Hopefully after we've figured out this so-called God of War. After an Action Teams has eliminated him."

Idre had over heard the last comment. "With pleasure. We can finally see what these people can do."

"And those cute girls in the village will all be a bit older." Wink breathed.

Ajha blushed, and Wink snickered.

"I've drilled you three in fighting off hallucinations. Black Goat!" Usse snorted derisively, and passed over a picture. "I took this yesterday. Today, one of my assets identified this man as a possible powerful magic user. He's a bit over two meters tall, riding a huge black horse. See if you can trace him. Give me a second indication of his location."

Idre and Egto hadn't seen the man, and studied the picture intently. The picture was clear, the man towered over General Rufi Negue, the king's oldest son and commander of the Arm
ies. Ajha hadn't seen the horse. In the picture it was indeed huge and black standing behind the man; it dwarfed him. Man and beast were both obviously well muscled.

"That's him. He must have been under a strong unnoticeable spell, down where we watched the Auralian ambush. A nice noticeable pair." Idre passed the picture back. "People will remember them."

"He's in town now. I will attempt to warn you when he leaves."

Two days later he left. They
mounted the Action Team's horses and spent the next day passing in and out of the city gates chattering about that gorgeous big black horse and the rider damn near as big, until the guards at the northwest gate grinned and nodded agreement.

"Old Gods! What a horse
. The man dismounted and led the stallion under the arch.” They all looked up at the arch as a high piled hay wagon creaked through.

Ajha nodded. "Yep. Incredible animal." They rode out once the hay wagon was clear, and trotted out for about ten miles before stopping for lunch. The stable boy had seen the black horse pass by.

"Two days ago. What a horse! The master said he saw him pass by two weeks ago, heading for town."

Sightings got more scarce after that, the last one was six hundred miles out of Karista, at the small town of Bridgeton.

"He just rode by, this time, and just as well, after nearly killing Onray. Old Gods! He was fast with that sword. Onray's all right, but it'll be a good long while before he's foolish enough to push a stranger into a duel."

Consulting their satellite maps, the man had, from here, either turned more directly north or continued on the Old Road and crossed the mountains. After three days of finding no trace of the man, they turned back to the City.

"Right. I think you can track him down." Usse assured them. "Most likely he lives north of the Old Road. Search for him, and for this diamond mine, as it may be the financial support for the magical society."

Ajha took a day to check the results of
the local genetic sampling they'd been doing, before the God of War diverted their attention.

They had found, on average,
higher percentages here, both of the insertions packages and of the native power genes.

None with as many as Pax or t
he boy who'd been with Cuffi, both of whom had two power genes, one on the X chromosome and one on the Y. And Pax had twelve of the artificial insertions, a double set of the six types. But with a few dropped genes, so Pax, by Oner standards, was a Clostuone.
Like me, but with total numbers even higher.
He stared down at the analysis uneasily. It was getting harder to think of these people as some lower sort of being. Mere natives.
They are lacking some tech, but have all the magic that we have. Sure, some of them are raw and uncivilized. . . but. . . here I am, looking for a man so a bunch of gang rapists can murder him.

Idre and Egto bought a wagon and loaded it with a hasty selection of trade goods. Ajha put aside his fretting and tried to concentrate on remembering how to steer a team of horses.

1 June 3482/
Spring 1365

Karista, Kingdom of the West, Comet Fall

"
. . . tracing the money flow in the northern parts of Foothill Province . . . for concentrations of magic . . . Ash . . . potions from Wallenton . . .
"

It wasn't a very clear transmission, but they'd gotten enough to decrypt the bits. It was one of the few recent intercepts at all. Damien pulled out the atlas they were slowly assembling.

"Isn't Ash that first village we stopped in, when we came? That would make sense to check as a possible locale for the magicians. It's the closest village to the battle site."

Max looked over his shoulder as he tapped the spot. "Do you want to check it out? The river's low and business is off. No one will think anything if you're gone for a few weeks."

"Sure. Bit of field work will feel like a vacation." He grinned at the glares he collected, and caught the stage to Wallenton. So fast and convenient. Wallenton was fast approaching a size that would get it a seat on the Council, much to the dismay of the nobility. From there it was a three day walk. He had a backpack with more than enough food, a bedroll, some oiled canvas for a tent if it rained. What more could a man need? Thinking sweet innocent thoughts in case of Oner, or for that matter native mind readers, he stopped to admire a pasture full of really nice horses. Mares and foals. A lot of chestnuts, and even a few pintos. He glanced toward the horseman coming in from the north. A dandy in a plumbed hat, but you couldn't fault the horse. A big chestnut stallion. He felt a pang at the thought of loosing Solstice. He'd been built a lot like this fellow, just a bit heavier.

"Is that by any chance the sire of those nice foals?"

The dandy grinned. "Indeed he is. Sun Gold. You've lost a horse?"

"Oh, two recently. One, well, I have three of his fillies. When they're old enough I just might bring them this direction."

"Sun Gold will be delighted." The man touched the rim of the hat and rode on.

Around the curve a squat tower with a skirt of attached rooms was apparently the
horse farm's headquarters. On the far side there were several barns, and sheds for cattle and sheep. The next ten miles alternated fenced horse pastures, open fields, some with sheep, and mixed hardwood and pine forests. He cleared a rise to see the village. It was a colorful little place, warm and welcoming as the sun dropped lower. The Fire Mountain Inn had two superb cooks, as he recalled, and the smells certainly seemed to confirm. He shucked his pack as he walked in. A young boy eyed it. "You need a room?"

"Yep." The boy ducked behind the polished bar and handed over a key. And pointed up the stairs. "First hallway, second room on the right."

Damien hauled the pack up the stairs, and found the second room on the right was not only nice and clean, the water in the ewer was hot. He eyed it uncertainly. Someone must have spotted him walking up the road. That was it. No magically always hot ewers, thank you. He cleaned up and walked out to find out what smelled so good. From the end of the hall he spotted a familiar face and eased back into the shadows. Dydit Twicecutt. The blonde with him was Never Ash, one of the women who'd infiltrated the Labor School, who had escaped from the Gate Authority. The woman who'd escaped from a room full of Gate cops by apparently oozing through the interior wall and cutting through the steel reinforced outer concrete wall.

And I stood there, my back against the door, while it happened.
A Oner spy on Earth. We thought.

She
looked entirely innocent, and native, flanked by children. A boy and a girl he'd guess at eleven or twelve, on her right. And wiggling in-between Never and Dydit, a younger girl, maybe three or four years old. A baby carried with casual competence on her hip. A nice little family outing. Well, well. Maybe the Oner's were right about this place being the home of the magicians. And a secondary confirmation that the infiltrators who had reached Earth had been natives from here, not Oners, nor apparently in league with Oners.

He stretched out on the comfortable bed and tried to not fall asleep. Jerked awake. He slipped back down the hallway. The common room was noisy, everyone singing an amazingly rude birthday song. "Never Ash" was laughing as a cake was brought out with a lot of candles. "Oh, not that many! Surely I'm twenty-one? Someone has miscounted."

Funny, how an old custom like that could hang on. Damien watched, picked up names. Never was apparently the blonde's real name. The other lady spy was there as well, Question by name. Conversations centered around something about the upcoming Solstice, mapping and exploration, potions, and horses. Half an hour later he checked again. They were just leaving, Dydit scooping up the little girl, who was sound asleep.

The front door slammed open and an irate man stomped in. "All right
, which one of you silly women made a purple rabbit? It was in my garden!" He shook the evidence, angrily.

Dydit's
oldest daughter yipped. "My bunny! How did it get here?"

It was indeed a purple bunny. Lifeless and limp.

"Last thing we need is a bunch of rabbits with no fear of man eating all our gardens." The man dropped the carcass and stomped back out.

"Purple? You made your rabbits purple?" An old lady looked appalled. "And you let them out? Rustle, you need to pay attention to ecological concerns. A purple rabbit is completely unviable, the hawks would get them easily. But beyond that, you need to be more responsible with your experiments. You should not release a changed animal to the wild, as you have no idea of the long term consequences to the wild population of introducing artificial genes like this one."

Rustle took her dressing down with stiff shoulders and silence. Then she picked up the dead rabbit and walked out.

Damien waited until the common room was nearly empty then walked down the stairs. The lamb in ginger sauce was wonderful. At breakfast the next morning he packed away twice as much as he ought to have, lingering and listening to people laughing or irritated over what had apparently been a mass purple bunny escape. As he reluctantly heaved his pack back over his shoulder he spotted a hawk swooping down into the meadow, and lifting off with something dark. From this distance he wasn't sure if it was purple or not. He headed north, then circled east around through the forest. He didn't spot any purple animals, but followed trails around the hills behind the village and worked his way south to a small river
, chilly with snow melt, and followed it downstream. It was nice in the heat, and he took his time, enjoying sleeping out in the piney forest. Once he broke out of the woods he could look over the rolling plains to the west. He spotted the road that ran north-south in front of the foothills, and took that back to Wallenton.

The river was s
till low, the barges weren't running yet. He headed for the stage office. A coach was just in from somewhere, the big six horse hitch being led off, hot and blowing. Six fresh beasts were prancing as they were backed into position.

Three men
drove by in a wagon pulled by a pair of bays, one with very familiar pinto spots. Damien turned into a handy barbershop, and studied them. Two were the Oners he and Joe had discovered two years before. The Oners had gotten out of Karista sooner than he expected. Trimmed and shaved, he penned a hasty note and posted it for the first stage heading for Karista. He wasn't sure he could tell what they were doing, but perhaps he could at least tell if they had a friendly relationship with Dydit or Never.