Wine of the Gods 08: Dark Lady

by Pam Uphoff

  The Phantom trotted for the next spot of smoke, and the lady again cooled the flames with just a gesture of her hand. At the fourth fire, the lady was leaning on the saddle bow and gasping.

  "December, stop. You aren't up to this." Liz swung off Moxie. And stopped indignantly as December started giggling.

  She half fell off the horse and sat to pull off her boots. "I'm not channeling very well, I'm getting drunk on power." She put her bare feet on the ground and sighed in relief. "Better. Goodness. Usually I can channel from horseback." She wavered over to a raised porch and climbed it to mount Phantom. Liz grabbed her boots and crammed them into her saddle bags.

  The fires were spreading, but by dismounting at each one the lady was able to do this channeling she spoke of. Toward the end of the smoky night, they were walking, with the horses following. Moxie spooked a bit at the fires but stuck to Phantom's side.

  The Arbolians stopped firing at dawn, and in the early light Liz could see the singed and charred town. "Nothing's burning any more, M'lady. Please will you mount? You should eat and rest."

  December wobbled back to the horse. "All right. We've survived this much." Phantom knelt for her. "Hey! Who taught you that? It looks bloody silly, if you ask me." The horse rose with a snort, and they headed straight for the tavern. There the slate roof and stone walls were untouched, and Quail was throwing a temper tantrum.

  "She wants her own mother," Lucy handed her over in relief. "Strong willed little girl, there."

  "There now, Mommy's all dirty and she's going to get ashes and smut and charcoal all over you." The lady kissed the baby's head, making it all very true. She unbuttoned her jacket and unbuckled her belt. "Don't bother washing it, Liz. Most likely we'll be doing the same thing tonight. Maybe sooner."

  They got cleaned up in stages, and Quail fed, and they all collapsed for a brief rest before the children arrived for school.

  They started arriving early, herded by Madam Cordes, who was also bearing a tray of donuts. "It's a bit wild out there. I thought all the children ought to stay out of the main room so's I can just feed all the firemen and the folks that lost homes last night." She bobbed her head in the lady's direction. "They're all talking about the Dark Lady snuffing fires all night long, but one person can't be everywhere, and those rocks . . . well. They're still out there and we're still in here, and safer than they'd like." She bustled out.

  The lady polished off two donuts and a large glass of milk. "Liz, you're fidgeting. Why don't you go scout out the state of the town and whether anyone we know was hurt."

  Liz jumped up thankfully, and strode out to the main room. Everyone there was streaked with soot, most showing some attempt at clean up. Kurt was there, sleeves rolled up and a fresh scrubbed look about his face and arms belied by the filthy shirt and pants. He caught her eye and waved her over.

  "Have you eaten?"

  "Oh yes, and so has the lady. How bad was it?"

  "We only lost four buildings entirely. Lots of other fire damage to roofs, here and there, but it was put out quickly, often by the Dark Lady, who apparently walked barefoot around town all night long. Wasn't she supposed to let the horse do the walking?"

  "Apparently it has something to do with fire magic. She found she just couldn't do it from horseback. It was strange, like she was drunk almost. Giddy. She's not nearly as tired as she ought to be."

  "Hmm, well, I certainly won't second guess her about magic. God knows half the town should have burned last night."

  Liz shook her head. "There were a lot of people out fighting the fires, including, from the state of your clothes, yourself."

  He yawned. "Well, yes. And we'll be sleeping in shifts today, trying to recover. If they were going to try a frontal assault, today would be a good day for it."

  Chapter Seventeen

  Friday, March 20, 3493 AD

  Jeramtown, Arrival

  December lowered her spoon as she spotted Captain Stone threading between tables. Kurt turned to see what had caught her attention.

  "The river level dropped overnight." The Captain yawned. "And the hours are killing us. So many of their attacks happen at night, I think you and I should split it, with a lieutenant apiece, and let the youngsters have the days."

  "Good idea." Kurt yawned sympathetically. "You want the before or after midnight shift?"

  Stone scratched his cheek thoughtfully. "Before will be the least painful for me. I'll sleep all day and be raring to go after an early dinner. Swap at midnight, and with luck you can get back here in time for breakfast with the Ladies. Perfect."

  Kurt glowered, Liz blushed and December swapped grins with Stone.

  "Unfortunately, there's still the problem of the river. Got any ideas?"

  "First, fill all water containers, second, monitor the water levels in the wells, third, a corridor out so we can attack their dam." Kurt yawned again. "I just hope they're waiting again, so we can rest and decide sensibly. If they did all this sh . . . stuff as fast as they could we'd be in big trouble."

  "They still want a cheap victory. But they ought to be getting antsy about troops from Vista at least."

  "How long does it take to build a dam like this one must be?" December asked. "It has only been fifteen days since they were discovered."

  Stone smiled at the girl as she plopped his porridge down. "True. It only seems like forever. Makes you wonder what sort of hell one of those year long sieges in the history books must have been."

  Kurt frowned. "In fact, if they started the dam immediately, they still must have done a pretty shoddy job, get all the rock and fill they needed there, and then place it so it would work, and the river's got a pretty good flow . . . I'll talk to the locals, there may be some places where a dam would be easier to build than others. I mean, where's the water going to go? Are they making a lake, or diverting it or what?" He finished and still obviously thinking, excused himself.

  "That'll keep him busy all day." Stone finished wolfing down porridge, drained his glass of milk and excused himself also.

  Liz sighed. "I feel a bit under utilized."

  "Hmm, too much keeping track of me, and not enough action?" December smiled. "What you need is a sword, and some lessons."

  Liz gulped. "I think all the swords are spoken for."

  "Then I'll make one. Hmph, haven't actually made anything in days. We'll need iron and carbon, and . . . wait a bit. I know just the thing. I think. But first, some lessons, so I can see your natural balance." She led the way back to the stable yard. It was nearly empty, the improbable rows of doors had been sealed when the fire bombardment started, and many hadn't opened them up since.

  "Should you open them ?"

  "No. Especially if water is going to get tight. Losing a month or two won't hurt anyone." The lady picked through some two inch thick poles, and trimmed one down into two three foot lengths. She shaved the wood down into a fair grip, a hint of a cross bar and flattened the rest so one could pretend it was a blade.

  "Stand beside me, and do what I do. This is called a low guard, because the point is low. This is a middle guard, the sort of natural position a person takes with a sword. And this is a high guard, sometimes called the Ox, because the sword is up here by your head, like horns. See my left hand position? You don't do this unless you've got chainmail gauntlets.

  "So. Take your middle guard position . . . "

  Half an hour later Liz had learned that an active lifestyle, and even pulling horses around regularly, did not build up the right muscles for sword fighting.

  "Hopefully the siege won't last long enough to build your arm muscles up." The lady shook her head. "We all took lessons from the time we were ten years old. So even the girls grew up with this sort of conditioning."

  "All the girls?"

  "All that wanted lessons, which was most of us." She frowned. "I wish I could remember more. I sort of remember how funny it was when this bunch of bandits, thirty or forty of them rode into the village . . . but I don't remember wh
at we did to them. We learned archery younger than that. And some hand fighting stuff that is sort of like dancing and can be useful in meditations, although I always preferred to sit to meditate."

  Quail was fussing back in their rooms.

  "She's spending a lot more time awake, now." Liz commented. Somehow with all her brothers and sisters, it hadn't been important or notable.

  "Yes, and I should be talking to you, and taking you places, and letting you get your hands on things, shouldn't I?" December rubbed noses with the girl. "Well, take your opportunities where you can find them, girl. Today I am not saving the World. As far as I know."

  Liz chuckled and headed for the kitchens. If they needed extra hands to fix and deliver food to the walls . . .

  She gained her desired opportunity to see Kurt. Unfortunately he was worried. "The water in all the wells is dropping. They only go deep enough to tap a gravel layer that crosses the river. And the river's high and dry now. The wells will be dry very soon."

  When she got back to the tavern, she helped Harv fill every vessel available with water, and then got the lady to make a large rock cistern to store more. The stable yard well ran dry before it was filled.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Saturday, March 21, 3493 AD

  Jeramtown, Arrival

  "It's from the well over on Grove Street. It smells bad." Madam Cordes was sniffing a bucket of water.

  December sniffed too. "Damn! They've dumped some dead animals in it, upstream somewhere. Use the stored water. I wonder if Captain Alpha knows about this yet.

  She was more cautious when she walked out now, watching people. She walked to the north end of the river and found the prince above it, looking outward. He invited her up with a wave. She cut over two streets to the steps by the north gate tower.

  She frowned when she saw the problem. Cow carcasses partially blocking the much reduced river. Several of the soldiers were pissing in the water, and as she watched, the Arbolian Dandy who seemed to be in charge dropped his pants to crap in the water.

  "Prince Kurt, may I respond appropriately to this?"

  "Please do."

  She warped light around herself and tossed a corridor down to the river bank opposite the Dandy. Grabbed a bubble, opened it, and shoved it mentally. Control, even at this short distance, proved difficult, but she surrounded the dead animals as well as a large volume of sediments beneath the river. And then she backpedaled hastily as the surface caved in. She jumped into the corridor, and staggered a bit, up on the wall. She looked back down. The riverbank was slumping into the hole just slowly enough that the scrambling Dandy could almost get free.

  "How was that?" She wiped sweat off her forehead and frowned at a shaking hand. Weak. I need to recover before I do too much more. She looked at the bubble she had in hand. Sealed it and let it drift away. I haven't the faintest idea what will happen to it. Will it drift forever?

  "Marvelous. I'm afraid Prince Henry's wardrobe has suffered, though."

  The Dandy had been pulled out by the soldiers, missing his pants. Some of the other soldiers were still mired.

  "Prince Henry? What an ordinary name for someone who dresses like that."

  Kurt choked. "It's an Imperial family name, shows up very two or three generations. I . . . hadn't actually thought of it as ordinary."

  They watched the man's furious gestures and saw messengers spreading out, carrying orders.

  "Hmm, that might not have been wise of me." December frowned. "How about I do something a bit more subtle to their trebuchets . . . or . . . what are they doing?"

  "Clearing a large circle. Looks like about a twenty foot diameter. I do believe they are going to make some magic. Can you do something to their trebuchets?"

  December contemplated her energy reserves. Plenty of raw power, but manipulating it came from her own reserves, her bodily strength. "If you need corridors up stream, perhaps tonight, to find where they've dammed the river, I'd best not do any more today. Unless I specifically need to."

  "Save your energy, then. When they start flinging stones again, it might be time for a raid." He leaned over and stared. "See those fellows in green? Those are their priests. I wonder what they have in those chests?"

  December tried looking with her inner sight, and winced. "Something magically bright. I don't remember ever seeing anything like it."

  The priests were sweeping the ground. Pulling the few surviving tufts of grass, removing large stones, sweeping aside small loose stones. One priest fetched a pail of mud and began filling holes.

  "Do you know, if we were to break their dam, depending on how much water is behind it, we might soak their circle." Kurt tapped impatient fingers on the parapet. "In any case, I'd like to get the raid over before they start . . . whatever this is going to be."

  December pulled her eyes away form the priests. "Then the sooner the better. I have a location about twelve miles out, the furthest farm that direction."

  "Right. Lady, go eat a hardy meal, I may be working you hard in about two hours."

  She took his advice, then nursed Quail, and saddled up. Liz fretted, but she agreed she had no part to play in the raid.

  "Keep an eye on Quail, keep track of what those priest fellows are doing." December shrugged. "Waiting usually is the worst part. We should be back before dawn."

  "You better be. And be careful damn it."

  Kurt had his raiding party together, and Franklin Stone was doing some fretting as well. She caught a snatch of their conversation, ". . . yes, Mother . . ." and grinned.

  The scout was ready, so she grabbed a bubble, attached it here and twisted it, pulled it into a long arm that reached out to that farm, not in exactly the same place, she pushed it to the hill beyond, away from the complications of the farm yard, and attached it there. She could sort of see through the corridor to the grassy hill; the others seemed to see it clearly. About the only drawback to being magical was that one saw the corridor, superimposed on what lay beyond it. Sort of. She backed Phantom away and waved the scout forward.

  His horse had gotten used to jumping through bright circles and took the leap nearly as calmly as Phantom. He took a slow careful look in all directions, and then rode back through. "Looks good, Sir."

  "Mount up, single file. March."

  The dozen men filed through the corridor quickly, and Kurt and December followed.

  The river below the farm was an oozing mud flat, so they headed further north at a trot.

  "The Baron's men said there's a lake five miles on. It has several outlets. If they've dammed the outlet for the Crier, there won't be any impounded water to wash through their camp—but then the city won't get the wave either."

  December shrugged. "The limited space under the wall will minimize any wave. But it would probably be just as well if we didn't add flooding to the fire damage. Much though I'd love to disaccommodate those priests."

  The scout rode back, "There's wagon tracks, well worn, along the river."

  "Let's circle a bit then, stay out of sight if possible." Kurt told him.

  December attached one end of a corridor a few strides away from the first, and followed.

  They trotted and walked alternately, through hills that gradually got lower, and then flattened into a mile wide swamp fringing a sizable lake. They waited until the sun was lower, then slipped back toward the river outlet, and found it surrounded by a strong company of soldiers.

  "So much for finding it unguarded." Kurt muttered.

  "I'll walk down and take a look, shall I?" December bit her lip. Two hundred men, damn. Kurt had trouble finding four old guys to be his engineering company. The Arbolians' brought more soldiers than the population of the town including all the local farm families taking refuge there. Of course this is just the start of conquering the whole country. They've probably got more soldiers back somewhere.

  She warped light around herself and walked down to the camp, and then circled it to find the dam. It was well done, for having been
thrown together in a few weeks. The location was such that it didn't need to be high, just high enough that the lake drained through its other outlets. A double wall of roughly fitted stones, piled rubble supporting the outsides, with clay sandwiched in the middle.

  She eased back to the troops and described the dam to them.

  The men followed the lakeshore back, and then stripped and took to the water.

  She warped light again, and got as close as possible, and sat on damp mud to meditate and feel the dam. The rocks. The men swimming up to them and shifting them. Several of them climbed over the dam and started on the rubble pile on the downstream side right in the center. She reached and tried to hold the rocks above, to prevent a collapse that would injure them and undo their work. It took hours, but they made it to the rocks of the inner wall, and pried them out at the bottom. The clay core of the dam oozed slowly until they'd worked a hole into it. Then the water could do the rest, as the men climbed back over the dam and swam away.

  The moving water was more than capable of keeping the hole open, until the engineers noticed. The dam might have only raised the level of the lake by an inch or two, but with a lake this size, that was a lot of water.

  She walked back to where the men had taken to water, and made the faintest of lights to guide them.

  Kurt led them, dripping water and weeds and mud. "I've put a hole in it, but I suspect they can get it back together in a couple of days. Unless, of course, those improbably balanced rocks happened to cover up the hole and make it harder for them to get to it."

  She chuckled. "The water flow is increasing. The spell I put on the rocks will fail in a few more minutes."

  "I wish I had the men to take it out entirely." He frowned as the alarm was called from the camp. "I think they just noticed something."