Wine of the Gods 03: The Black Goats (43 page)

He was a bit less well informed than more closely based companies, and only found out a day after they left, that the wizards had set sail with one of them on each of their best armed ships.

Inetricovski shrugged. "They can feel this Wizard Nihility close by and hope to sink his ship."

His Royal Majesty's Fast Courier Petrel was making good time to the south, with two of the Sea King's ships along as an escort. Oscar paced the deck uneasily. They were taking the long way around, swinging out to the west well clear of all hazards so that they could sail all night, arriving at Gendo faster than taking a more direct path that would require caution. He climbed to the head spar and watched the sun set and the stars come out and fill the heavens. The full moon rose and he slid down and paced more. He spotted the woman in the moon shadows of the sails on the foredeck, and thought one of the witches had come up . . . But the faint starlight glinted on water, or perhaps scales, but of course that was just his eyes and imagination playing tricks on him. It was sea wrack, draped over the rail—no it moved, and the Sea Hag met his gaze for a long moment. Then she shifted. It was legs, not a fish tail that she dangled over the rail she sat on, and strands of wet hair, not seaweed that she brushed back from her face. Freckles, not barnacles.

"Sea King, have you returned to take up your crown?"

"No." He swallowed, unable to pretend to not understand. "All that an attempt would do is kill a lot of people."

"You are wise, Young King. And you have left us hope for the future."

She swung her legs over the rail, to the deck and stood. Taller than he was, voluptuous, curvaceous, padded and sleek, not fat. She leaned and kissed him and he melted into her and down to the deck with her. No boots to slow him, this time.

"Who are you, what are you?" Definitely legs, he thought, as they wrapped around him.

"We are the People of the Sea. We will never let you drown, we will never allow a ship you are on to sink. Is there anything else you would wish for?"

Oscar gasped with his release and tried to pull his thoughts together. "No. I already have what I want, freedom, travel, adventure. I wouldn't dare ask for more."

She chuckled, and as he stood he wasn't sure about the scales and seaweed. She studied him as she leaned against the rail. "Yes, a very wise Sea King, one who understands what it truly means. Perhaps a son or grandson of yours will come to rule the islands, but the sea is yours to command." With an easy twist she slid over the rail. Oscar took a shaky breath and stepped to the rail, fastening his pants.

Dolphins danced in the bow wave and leaped in shining arcs in the moonlight. There was no sign of scales or seaweed. He sank down against the rail and watched until he fell asleep and dreamed of beaches and dolphins and small mermaids who would play with a boy in the surf and call him brother.

The sun woke him to a misty morning and he stretched and frowned at the fog. He didn't like this . . . there was something out there . . . He scrambled up to his usual perch and scanned, choked a bit.

"How long have they been there?"

"What?" The sailor in the crow's nest sounded surly.

"Those four rather large ships off the port bow."

"There's nothing to port of us, and only two of the Sea King's ships following.

Oscar stood on the head spar and stared at the ships angling closer to them. "What do you mean nothing? This mist isn't that thick."
Old Gods! They really can't see them!

"Can't see what's not there, landlubber." The lookout in the crow's nest was another ten feet higher.

If Bran were here, could he do something? One of his spells, how did the clear sight one go? Eagle on high, clear eye. And swipe the right hand from left to right as if opening a curtain.

Oscar swiped his right hand.

And all hell broke loose as the lookout started yelling. The crew scrambled, the captain bellowed something.

Oscar could faintly hear the pandemonium, but half of his mind was staring down at his hand, blankly, and the other half was wondering if he could do it again. And wishing he'd paid more attention when he was helping Bran study.

Finally the nearby cursing from the crows nest broke through his bemusement.

Something about how they were all going to die, because the ships ahead were so close their arbalests and catapults could already hit them, and something about it looking like their opponents were preparing to throw burning barrels of oil, and something about being out numbered.

Oscar looked back over at the enemy. Yeah, four to one could be called out numbered,  the Sea King's pair was too far away to save them, and anyway those ships looked as big or bigger than the Cove ships. Much bigger than the Petrel.

Damn it, why hadn't he paid more attention when he helped Bran memorize spells? Wind spells seemed like they'd be good, sailing ships and all. If he could remember them, and if he had a clue which way would help them and hinder the enemy. "Whoosh! That way!" He waved his hands the direction he wanted the wind to blow but the other ship's sails never fluttered. He watched in fascination as the they crashed through the waves, turning away now—not a good sign as he looked at the arbalests lined up on the rails. "I think this is what they call a broadside." He muttered to himself. "How about a nice wave to broadside them, eh?" He waved his hands and the other ship rolled suddenly to port as the arbalests fired on command. Three dozen bolts whistled over the heads of the crew, one hit a line and the mainsail swung and the Petrel swayed as the sleek frigate passed it. The second ship was lining up to deliver a broadside of their own when Nil reached the deck and stalked over to study the approaching ships.

There's no sunshine for a wizard. The goat wizards can't do much, but neither can Nil.
Bran shot out of the hatch and stopped to stare at the ships looming out of the mist. Oscar grabbed a line and slid down to the deck.

"Bran, can you do something with the wind? Send them a gust from straight head on?"

Bran gulped and pulled his boot knife. nicked his wrist and his mouth moved soundlessly. The cruiser slid down a wave and the sails fell limp. The ship turned a bit and the next wave turned it further, and the sailors were suddenly too busy trying to keep their ship from turning broadside to the waves to worry about aiming anything at anybody.

"Very nice, Bran. Your father always said you'd make a Storm mage." Nil grinned suddenly. "How old are you now? Eighteen? Nineteen?"

Bran gulped. "Old Gods, I forgot all about my birthday. Not that powers come in on a strict schedule or anything, but, I'm almost nineteen."

The wallowing ship's sails filled again, but it used them to curve away from the Petrel. The other ships were turning away as well.

"I didn't scare them off did I?" Bran sounded a bit dubious.

Oscar looked over his shoulder, and pointed. "It's probably more likely the Sea King's galleons scared them off. Those thunder guns have a longer range than catapults and arbalests."

Bran looked relieved. "Good, because I really don't know what's good or bad to do with the wind, and, umm, I'm not sure I could do it right anyway. I mean I've never practiced or anything." He was pale and his voice getting a bit higher.

Oscar punched his arm. "We'll be on the island tomorrow. We'll find some nice empty spaces and do a bit of practicing." He looked at his right hand. "A lot of practicing. Both of us."

***

The "reward
" for being so well organized was that Jin's Company was quickly put to work exploring the region. The farms were further inland, in valleys and the broad center of the island. He mapped out the land, marked the farms, and ran a rough census. Talked to them about the volcanoes. And the other strangers that were across the island.

There were four live volcanoes on the island. One, on the other side, was erupting. The one nearest the village had erupted thee years ago, which was why the village was so small.

"Took out every building but the tavern." The old farmer said, trying to be friendly in the face of so many armed strangers. "Goes to show you the Sea God ain't really dead, eh?"

Jin smiled politely. He had been careful to not find the time to drop by the Sea God's Garden. Word was there were forty whores, every one over fifty years of age. Apparently a lot of fishermen were lost every year, and excess women, especially older
ones were . . . excess. The women were rumored to have been rude before the wizards demonstrated the consequences. Jin had no desire to explore how polite they were now.

He was across the island, and retreated quickly when the ships were sighted approaching from the west. He wondered if there was anyone to report to in Gendo, and went to find out.

"Ah, Captain Jin. Do come in." General Orgaphos smiled genially, scratching his hoof. Among his loyal troops he didn't bother hiding it. "What do you have for me?"

"We
sighted three ships putting into Vesid, the village across the island." Jin rolled out the map.

"Yes, we know about them. Damn Nihility
. He had a pair of mages with him. What else do you have here?" The wizard leaned over the map.

"I've mapped out the locations of the local farms, and the terrain. These are regular mountains, this one is a volcano which last erupted three years ago, destroying most of this village."

Orgaphos placed a finger on the volcano. "Just three years ago? That is excellent news. I'll need a road up it eventually, for now, a path and a detailed map."

Orgaphos leaned back and regarded him. "You've done exceptionally well, Captain. My other Captains are now scrambling to copy your excellent camp. I understand that you are raising logs for a wall, to make it an actual fort. A wise precaution, in view of the Sea King's marines on the other side of the island." He waved vaguely at the door. "Take two of the available women, and we're parceling out those old whores as servants, to do the dirty work, take five of them, also."

"Thank you, sir. The men appreciate your attendance to their needs." Jin saluted and  stepped out. Seven new whores, what had he done to deserve this?

One of the former palace staff gestured for him to follow him. He had a huddle of women in a large room. "These are ready to leave."

Pregnant with a baby wizard,
Jin thought, and raised his voice. "Do any of you know how to cook or sew?"
Please, no more spoilt darlings!

One black hair girl who looked about fifteen shrugged, "I can do both."

"I can build things. Furniture, cabinets and stuff, if you have tools." A plain looking brown haired one, a bit older, but not by much. She looked a bit flighty, unlike the black haired girl, who had obviously given up.

"I'll take these two
, and the General said something about some older women for servants?"

"Yes, congrat
ulations, you get first pick." The man snickered.

He could see why, the women
in the next room were the worst, most worn out collection of old whores imaginable. "I need five of you. I'd prefer cooks, and seamstresses."

The oldest one tottered out. "I've been cooking all my life."

Two others admitted to being able to sew, and he added the two that were closest to attractive and herded his new acquisitions out.

Corporal Lebonift was waiting with the horses, his eyes wide as he took in the women following Jin.

"Ride back to the camp and get the cart." Jin told him. "We'll meet you at the big stream crossing."

The old cook snickered, "Think we can't make it up your hill, young man. You have no idea of endurance until you've done a hundred men in a night."

Jin raised an eyebrow, "I'm sure you'll be relieved to know that there are only a hundred and thirteen of us, and you can take a week to do us all."

She cackled, and he had a hideous feeling she was
looking forward to it.

They all followed him readily. Only the brown haired girl looked like she might make a break for freedom. But she was well able to see all the men about, leering at her as one of the young and pretty ones, and stuck with the group.

Jin waved her up to walk with him and eyed her thoughtfully, "What tools do you need for building furniture?"

"If all else fails, I can carve it all with a knife."

"And if I keep you for myself, instead of putting you in with the rest, will you not use that knife on me, or my men?"

She shied away from him. "Why can't you just leave me alone?"
There was a world of rage subdued and barely showing under the quivering tones.

"They say war is hell on women and horses, and to my masters, women are possessions. Nothing more, and nothing less. You realize that they are breeding baby wizards?"

She stopped dead, paling. "I've been raped by men who turn into goats. Are you saying that, that what they want is my—their—baby?"

"Yes, and don't hope for a miscarriage. They'll just start over again."

"I . . . that's what they said, in the harem, and what about after the baby is born?"

"So far, they've taken all the Solti's women back and gotten them pregnant again. The babies have all looked normal, I'm pleased to say. All you have control over is how you are going to
live in the mean time. Me—or everyone."