Great Kings' War by Roland Green, John F. Carr Page A

completely impassable most of the time. We haven't infiltrated the Inner Circle yet, and they're not talking. I suspect Styphon's House may be waiting to see what happens during the rest of the winter. Not that enough hasn't happened already, of course."
    Tortha recognized the signs of coming bad news in Verkan's voice. He wasn't surprised, either. "I can imagine," he said. "My first independent assignment was shepherding a party of tourists fleeing from a sacked city to the nearest operating conveyer-head. It was five days' journey downriver, through country that had been fought over two years running. If we hadn't been able to use boats and travel mostly by night I don't think we'd have made it. I stopped having any arguments from the tourists after the first village where we found human bones in the soup pots."
    "It hasn't been quite that bad in Hos-Hostigos, except in parts of Nostor. The Hostigi are calling it the Winter of the Wolves, though. Between the wolf packs and the snowdrifts, nobody's going anywhere unless they absolutely have to.
    "I haven't been back to Hos-Hostigos myself since I took over as chief. Dalla went once, to Ulthor. They're not as badly off as the Hostigi, since they missed the fighting and shipped in grain and meat from the Upper Middle Kingdoms before winter. Dalla still tried to ride to Hostigos until she lost two horses and a guard to wolves the first day. After that she decided to stick to interviewing refugees and building our cover."
    They sat in silence as the air-taxi passed out of the rainstorm and Dhergabar together. Ahead the mountains loomed against the clear sky, spangled with the lights of country homes and resorts. A full moon silvered the scattered clouds above and the occasional stream visible through the trees below. From the air it might have been the wilderness of Kalvan's Time-Line; in fact, it was a garden planted with trees instead of flowers, like most of Home Time Line. If the air-taxi let them down in the middle of this forest, they might wander for all of ten minutes before a robot or prole gardener found them. The nearest wolf was in Dhergabar Zoological Gardens.
    "We don't really have any work in Kalvan's Time-Line that's worth sending in people."
    Tortha recognized another note in Verkan's voice now, the frustration of a man who has to live in ignorance because he won't send men into danger where he can't go himself just to satisfy his curiosity. It was a frustration he knew his former Special Assistant would become accustomed to as the years passed. If there'd been any chance he couldn't come to terms with it, he'd never have become Chief of Paratime Police.
    "Fortunately, Kalvan's going to have the best army in his time-line, if not the biggest. Brother Mytron and Colonel Alkides were experimenting with methods for improving the quality of Hostigos 'Unconsecrated,' and Kalvan's integrated the four to five thousand mercenaries he captured at Fitra and Fyk into a regular royal army."
    Tortha Karf said nothing. He'd recognized a third note in his young friend's voice—what on some time-lines was called "whistling in the dark."
    Verkan appeared to be getting too attached to his outtime friend Kalvan; that could prove to be a major problem if push came to shove. After all, Kalvan was still a theoretical danger to the Paratime Secret, the foundation upon which the whole of First Level civilization rested. If Kalvan became a threat to that secret, Verkan Vall, chief guardian of that civilization, might find himself with a job no man could welcome.
     
    The two men were beginning to look hungrily at the menu by the time Dalla arrived. She made her usual dramatic entrance carrying a medium-size flat package and wearing a blue cloak that covered her from the base of her throat to the floor.
    Tortha couldn't help wondering what Dalla had on under the cloak. There'd been a time when the answer to that question would have been "little or nothing," but that time was