by Pam Uphoff
He couldn't, and backed out of the strip, turned and backed in. All the kids rushed in to see the big black stallion. It was getting dark out, and he loomed like a bit of the night himself.
The lady fiddled with her poles. "There're going to be a lot of animals, as well as people, moving in."
Liz investigated the other direction, and found the hallway clogged with people and cots. She could hear her mother, and worked through the crowd to take some of their parcels and lead them back to the end rooms.
"Who in the world are you?" her Mother stared at the lady, who had apparently opted for the short cut and climbed in the window.
"Lady December Quicksilver, your daughter's employer. I've taken these two rooms, and I rather suspect you'll be joining us for some time. Do come in." The lady looked around thoughtfully, "How about all the men and boys in that room, and the women and girls here?"
"But what about my husband?"
"He's not sleeping in my bed."
Her mother squirmed and muttered something under her breath.
"Liz, I've stuffed most of my clothes back into my saddle bags, so you can move yours here if you want."
Liz looked around. Apparently the lady had stuffed everything into the saddle bags; the room had a rather swept clean look to it.
"I think I'll step out for a bit." And the lady slipped through the door and was gone.
"Hmmph! Ordering me around!"
"She's paid for the two rooms for a month, Mother." Liz edged over and checked on Quail. The baby was studying her fists with an expression of perplexity on her face. "She's very rich, so please do be polite."
"Hmmph! No business running about with a baby this age. Who is she, where is she from? Does she have any sort of education, or is she another one of the illiterate country nobles?"
"Mother? Who is my father?"
"What? How can you ask such a thing?"
"Because you were one of the smart women attending school in Arrival, as you've told us a dozen times. So, how did you meet and fall in love with an illiterate horsemaster from the country? Were you stupid . . . or desperate?"
Her mother flushed, red and furious, shot a look at the children, who were still hanging out the windows looking at the horses.
"We got married, properly. In Church. Then his father had it annulled. Fobbed me off on a . . . I didn't have any choice, now did I? I couldn't go back to acting the virgin schoolgirl with my belly swelling, could I? And with babies every other year . . . of course the man never so much as wrote me a note."
"What is his name."
"None of your business."
"Very much my business."
Her mother stomped out the door. "I'll find the baroness and get another room."
Fobbed her off. On a horsemaster in the farthest state. His own state? Now there was a sickening thought. She'd have to deal with it later.
"Girls, let's get you set up with someplace to sleep." They looked at the bed.
"You aren't going to make Mama sleep on the floor, are you?"
Margarite blushed. "I did bring my favorite quilt."
"Good. Let's move the table, we can put the baby over here, she's been sleeping in her pram, so she won't know the difference. Then we three can sleep in the corner, and no one will be tripping on us. Avis can be here at this side of the bed and handy for Mama."
Someone had, thank God, packed up Avis's blanket. Liz moved a little rug over to the wall at the head of the bed, and spread the blanket and the toddler curled right up with it and fell asleep immediately. Margarite grumbled about sharing her quilt, but accepted a blanket from the bed and when Liz blew out all but a single candle, they settled down and were quickly asleep. Her mother came in grumbling, with Da following. Their voices hushed immediately, used to sleeping children.
Liz bit her lip, worried. "Have you seen Lonnie?"
They both shook their heads, "What happened, girl?" Her father scowled.
"He was at the far end of the relay. He came tearing back at a dead run, saying the men in uniform had killed Master Jeremy, and for me to get the warning out. His horse was already tiring, so I rode ahead. Last I saw, Lonnie was veering off for the east, and all those little tracks in the forest. I had hoped he could lose them in there."
Her father hunched a little. "He had plenty of time to get back, then." He threw an arm around her mother as tears flowed.
"The girls are asleep, Mama. Why don't you settle down and get some rest?"
Her mother sighed. "I thought the baroness would do better by us, but she suggested we should sleep in the barn with the horses, seeing as we weren't house servants. Servants!"
The younger boys had all fallen asleep every which way across the bed. Liz pulled a pair of rag rugs against the wall and helped move the boys to the floor. Without Lonnie, Mrs. Hinton opted to sleep with her husband, but fussed over leaving the girls alone.
The lady settled it all when she came in, with a firm "Good night, Mr. and Mrs. Hinton." As she swung the connecting door. "It's not locked, if you need to check on your girls, Mrs. Hinton. But I do have a reputation to maintain. Not that my husband would ever doubt me, but he might feel compelled to kill anyone who disparaged me."
Her mother flapped her mouth like a landed fish, as the door closed firmly.
"Liz, you had a long hard day, get in bed."
***
December rather vaguely hoped that the Hinton's did not snore all the time, but she sank into her meditations and pushed all that away.
She pulled power up from the Earth, and soaked in it, felt the tug to the side as the waning gibbous moon swung under the World. She could see the dim sparks of these people, packed into this town like sheep in the pens. There were several brighter sparks. Little Quail blazed. Liz was a warm glow, and down the hall the injured Roger, with two brighter sparks over head. The Baron and Baroness? Another bright one above the Main Room. Old Gods! The Main Room was packed with people sleeping on the floor.
What had Roger said? 'I'm a noble, so I know things.' Did he refer to magic? He had a touch . . . As did a few others. Yet the brightest of them had less glow than a three month old baby.
Quail's bright light flickered and she pulled her self out of the meditation to pick her up and nurse her. What am I doing to you, my little one, to bring you to a World where you have no equals, no peers? You would be loved at home, around children much like you. Children growing up in the sunshine of everyone's approval. Here you will have to hide what you are.
Or, do all the nobles have a bit of magic? I'll find out.
She put her daughter back in the pram and smiled a bit ruefully at the snoring family around her. But first we have an invasion to deal with.
Chapter Eleven
Thursday, February 26, 3493 AD
Jeramtown, Arrival
People were standing on rooftops, looking over the wall. Liz and December scrambled up to the top of the Exchange silo, and saw the Arbolians moving into place.
"Not much siege machinery." The lady stared across the wall. "It looks like they have winding mechanisms for two trebuchet. That wall won't stand up to much. I think I'd best leave the wine to the healers, and find a bow."
Liz looked at her a bit askance. The lady she'd woken up to find still sitting cross-legged on the floor was somehow harder and brighter than the one the day before. And she was wearing her dark wool riding outfit, with a sword and dagger on a belt slung low on her left hip. She'd drawn a few rowdy comments, and they'd slid off as if they were so unimportant they didn't warrant notice.
"The main danger is that they will overwhelm us with superior numbers." The lady paced the edge of the roof looking all around. "But what they really want is a surrender, so they have their full forces and our resources so they can sweep down on the next province."
"State, M'lady." Captain Alpha was up on the roof as well. "And I suspect you are correct about their desires. And that is why we must fight here."
"But are they going to sit
and let us get scared all on our own, or are they going to help us along?" Liz rubbed her arms uncertainly. "The wall looks a lot lower than it did a week ago."
The lady gazed at the south gate. "It looks like they want to talk. Better get down there, Prince, before the Mayor surrenders."
Kurt grinned, "You don't know the Mayor, do you?" Then he was over the edge and climbing down.
Liz squirmed. "I don't suppose you'd loan him Phantom? He's so impressive. And, and . . . "
"Dangerous, if there's need. That is an excellent idea." The lady swung over the edge and started down. Liz looked around one last time, and headed down as well.
The stable yard was a mooing, clucking mess. The lady and the prince were fighting their way through it carrying tack. Liz stepped up on the edge of a stone trough, got a good look, and then waded in and started giving orders.
"Get that cow back two steps. The cages of chickens need to be stacked so horses can get through. Whose cart is this? Move it back two feet and then everyone is going to catch their dogs and tie them where they will not cause problems."
She had a path cleared halfway across by the time the prince and Phantom got that far.
"Good God, a miracle! Keep it up!" Kurt called as Phantom strode out.
Liz kept up ordering people about until she got to the back of the ell, where the lady had given up on the space.
"Horses just won't fit, but sheep and people can double up." She was laying poles across from the rock wall of the ell to the brick wall of the warehouse laying them on ledges four feet off the ground that Liz didn't remember seeing before.
The sheep and a pair of goats were all herded underneath, and three families shifted their goods and themselves up onto the poles. Moxie took over a spot that suddenly grew stone fences, and somehow seemed to push back into the Inn until it was big enough to also hold Phantom. The people in the yard had drawn away at the sight of the stone fences growing, but then they eased up to them and felt the rails, the posts . . . Stared at the extra space.
"Kin you make shelters for people?" an old women asked.
"Is there anyplace in town that isn't already full of people?" the lady asked. "I can make shelters, but we need to leave room for movement too."
"If you can make them out of rocks, like this, there's that cliff on Boxton street."
"I'll talk to the Mayor, and build shelters wherever I can," the lady promised.
Now, however, she waded through sheep and slipped in through her window.
"Hi, Lucy. How's Quail?" She peered into her daughter's pram.
"Oh, she's a sweetie, that one."
"Good, how are you doing? Are the kids all settling in?"
"I've got the older ones working in the stables and kitchens. They won't get paid much, but they will ensure we get fed."
"Goodness. You're as smart as your daughter said. Educated too, aren't you?"
"I went to school in Arrival," her mother sighed nostalgically.
December frowned. "We had a village school, and depending on one's talents, you could apprentice, or go to University in . . . " She shook her head impatiently. "There goes my memory, again. But Lucy, are there many children here in the tavern? If you'd like, I could try to scavenge some slates and chalk, you could run a little school, keep the children occupied and out of trouble."
"I could?" Lucy sat up in alarm. "Women don't teach!"
"Why ever not? We're as smart as men. They just want us uneducated so they can control us better. You are educated, and ought to at least teach the kids their letters."
"Mama taught me how to read and figure. You can do it, Mama." Liz nodded encouragingly. "Maybe just start with ours, and add other kids if their parents ask you to. Charge them something, not much, we're all going to be in tough straights quick enough, but after the siege, people will remember what a good teacher you are."
Quail started fussing and the lady swooped down on her. "Hi Sweety, how do you like life in a siege? Hmm? You don't care? You didn't notice? Just as well."
She fed the baby quickly. "I'd like to see what's going on with the negotiations, but I'll bet we can't get near the south gates."
Liz brightened, "But we might be able to get near enough to hear about what's going on."
Her mother clicked her tongue. "The company you are keeping. Well, I'll mind the babies, you two go look and listen to what you can't change. And show some respect for God and cover your head."
The lady reached into her saddlebag and pulled out some scraps that would do well enough for scarves, handed one to Liz and tied the black one over her own head.
The crowds thickened as they got closer to the south gate, and they picked up snatches of conversation.
". . . one week . . . "
"Gods? Demons more like . . . "
" . . . witchcraft . . . "
"Better dead than taken by that lot . . . "
The Imperial guards were keeping the area around the gate clear, and Captain Stone had a troop mounted and ready for battle.
Captain Stone himself was on the wall, looking outward, but one of his men nudged him and he turned and spotted them as they worked their way through the crowd. The private was sent dashing down the steps and across the troop filled area to plunge into the crowd and pull them out.
"Captain's respects and all that, but could you come look at what's doing out there?"
From the wall, they could see clearly the grotesque creatures across the field, facing the prince and his entourage.
They resembled men. Some too large, some too small, some with too many limbs, one with two heads or perhaps it was two with only one body.
"They called them little gods. They said they'd turn them loose on us if we didn't surrender, and that if we continued to fight, they would bring out the real gods. Kurt said to ask if you'd ever seen such things in your Kingdom of the West. And is there any advice you can give us?"
Liz pulled her gaze from the creatures and looked at the Arbolian delegation. Two officers flanking a dandy in Arbolian fashions. They had traders through regularly, that wore the style, but nothing so ridiculously elaborate. The stiffened shoulder pieces extended out a foot past the human shoulders, the loose sleeves flapped down well past the fingertips, and the pants were designed to be seen while riding, with embroidered panels hanging past the feet.
"Dwarfism, gigantism, cleft palate, twins with incomplete separation . . . They are the unfortunate and the afflicted." The lady closed her eyes for a long moment. "They have a touch of magic about them though. I dare say they'll be hard to catch if they come over the walls with assassination in mind." She drummed her fingernails. "I would like to go out there. I can make myself invisible."
"Uh . . . "
One of the creatures made a throwing motion, and a spark flew across the field. The mayor's horse leaped and bucked, and he wrestled with it as Master Byrne's and the baron's horses backed and shimmied.
Phantom stood like a rock.
"My magic, both defensive and offensive is only effective at a very short range," The lady looked worriedly at the shambling creatures below.
"Right. Smith, take her down and through the sally port."
Liz hesitated, and was waved back. "You can't come."
She didn't hear the small door below open, but heard it close. The people on the field heard it too, and looked, looked away.
The mayor forced his trembling horse back beside the prince. Who suddenly turned his head. He said something to the baron, who pushed forward, and spoke to the civilian dandy at length. The dandy made several graceful motions with his hands, or at any rate his flapping sleeves. The baron reined back and looked at the prince as Phantom took two steps forward.
The prince's raised voice was audible even on the top of the wall. "I have decided to decline your offer. I give you a few minutes to reconsider your use of Magic. Rarely does the Royal House call upon the uncanny, but if you wish to make this a war of magic, I shall have to summon the Dark Lady."
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br /> He crossed his arms and waited.
The Arbolian laughed. "You Arrivals have no magic." He glanced behind and made a motion. One of the small creatures scrambled forward, raising his hands.
The prince raised his own hands dramatically. His voice projected and rolled across the field with echoes reverberating. "Dark Lady! I summon your protection!"
Sparks fell from the sky and formed a circle spiraling down to fall to the ground and die in puffs of smoke. The smoke swirled together in the middle and Lady December stepped out. Her hair was hidden beneath her black scarf, her dark jacket buttoned to her neck.
"Who summons the Dark Lady?"
"I do. As a Prince of the Realm, under magical attack, I beg your protection."
The Dark Lady turned, and surveyed the opposition. The small monster threw a spark at her. It cooled to red, dropped to the ground as she paced toward the little god. At arm's length she looked down at him and shook her head. "Unfortunate creature, so badly used. I am sorry that I cannot save you, at just this moment. Perhaps later." She made a scooping gesture, and the creature turned to bronze and fell over.
The Arbolian gestured and the other six ran forward. Or seven, Liz thought a bit hysterically, depending on how many times you counted the two headed one.
The huge one leading the charge clutched his chest and collapsed. The others came on, throwing sparks ahead that died as they neared the Lady, and the Lady repeated her scooping motions and bronze statues fell to the ground. She ran lightly, pursuing the last two as they fled. The Arbolian gestured, but whatever he did had no effect, as the Lady caught the other little one and turned him into a statue, and allowed the other giant to escape. She turned and walked back to them, pausing only to turn the collapsed giant into a statue.
She stopped in front of the prince, and bowed regally. "I will keep watch, and repel any further magical attacks, Prince."
The Prince bowed as deeply as is possible on horseback. "Thank you, M'lady."
She made a sweeping gesture, as if throwing a cloak over her shoulder, and disappeared.
The Prince straightened. "You have our answer. We will not surrender."