Wine of the Gods 08: Dark Lady

by Pam Uphoff

  December looked at the god. "Do you hate? Do you kill? They can't force you anymore. What do you want to do?" She locked her knees.

  The god flexed its scabbed hands, his eyes raised to meet hers. "Kill."

  She looked into his eyes and saw a basic elemental madness. So much for reason, and befriending the abused. She looked at the priest. "Why do you want an insane god?"

  "So we can control the power. We have all of their power, and we are the true masters of the world." He smiled and sucked at her power, and she wondered how long she could hold her physical shield.

  "Their power? As in, you have more than one? What are you doing? Breeding them?" She backed away from the advancing god, circling, trying to put the priest between her and the creature. The priest backed, circled opposite her. She couldn't watch them both.

  "Yes. We pick the strongest and keep them, use them." He hissed. "We've lost this one, we'll have to breed another."

  "You know, a bit of out-crossing and a lot less radiation, and you could . . . " She barely blocked the god's fireball, it burned its way through her shield and she had to absorbed the Fire. She tried to channel it into the earth, but the priest pounced on the burst of power and sucked it away.

  The god stalked closer. It leapt at her. Striking with claws of power, shredding her shield. The axe hit the shield from the opposite side and she staggered. The axe was stuck deep into the dirt, the priest tugging at it . . . He had no shield. She lunged, dropping her shield and thrusting the sword through the priest. She kept going, leaping over the priest's body, giving ground before the god's onslaught. The drain on her power was gone, but the power wasn't replaced. She should be able to . . . do something about that. She couldn't remember. When she'd fought the fire she'd channeled power away, into the Earth. Could she pull it back out? She reached and felt the magic of the powders twisting the power as she pulled it in.

  She backpedaled and compressed power into fire and threw it, but unlike the priest, the god had a shield. The fireball bounced off to the left, where soldiers scrambled to avoid it and a tent caught fire. She pulled her own shield back up and threw a transformation spell. Horns spiraled from the god's head, hair sprouted, its loincloth bulged. The god shrugged the rest of the spell aside with brute strength. Sleep. It shook its head and crouched to spring. She pushed. It gestured to deflect the spell and men and tents toppled. She reached desperately for a bubble and undermined it, but it wasn't deep enough. It pulled itself from the dirt and stalked toward her again. It leaped and she backpedaled, but the insubstantial claws lengthened, sliced through her shield.

  She formed a new shield behind the shredding one, threw a charm, thirst, hunger, umm, no not a lust spell. Tried the transformation spell again. It bounced and a soldier was suddenly thrashing inside a uniform ill suited for his new form. A different transformation spell bounced as well.

  She searched for a bubble. Pain slashed down her left side and she wrenched away. The creature licked bloody claws with a long prehensile tongue, and advanced. She dare not take her attention off the creature again. Levitation, heat, cold, sleep, fire. The Army camp exploded into chaos as spells ricocheted. The other priests fled. She felt shocky, odd. Distant. Not a good sign. She backed around in a circle, trying to work her way closer to the wall. The god's invisible claws caught in the shield again, jerked her closer. Its other hand found a grip. It was forcing its way through her shield, but it had no free hands to block.

  It was neglecting its own shield.

  She snapped the point of her sword up and lunged, dropped her shield and stabbed it through the chest. She hauled the sword out, stepped back for a full swing and beheaded it. Warped light around herself, and staggered away from the body.

  Where was the wall? The gate? The general was shouting orders, the soldiers were sprinting forward. Shield, surely she could manage a simple . . . blood was pouring down her side and the light warp was gone.

  Thundering hooves.

  The black horse slid to a stop, bowed low, a young woman on his back. Unarmored, unarmed. Holding her arms out. The Lady staggered forward and threw herself across Liz's lap. Hands grabbed her.

  "Go!" Liz shouted, and the horse bolted, swerving under his unbalanced load, and thundered through the gate. The gate crashed shut behind them, and she heard the thud of either the brace going home or perhaps the impact of charging soldiers.

  "I don't believe you did that!" Kurt grabbed her as she slid down but he seemed to be yelling at Liz.

  Someone was ordering her to drink some wine, and someone was squeezing her left arm, the deep slashes on her left arm. "Damn, lost some muscle there, didn't I?"

  "I think that thing ate . . . " Liz sounded a bit hysterical.

  "Oh my. Nasty." She sounded awfully faint . . .

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Monday, March 23, 3493 AD

  Jeramtown, Arrival

  She was warm and safe. And . . . really sore. She opened her eyes. Timbered ceiling. The end room in the tavern. "Ouch."

  "December?" Liz came into her view. "How do you feel?"

  "Umm, like I don't dare move or it's really going to hurt."

  "I guess that's not very surprising."

  "I only remember it clawing me once." Why did her face hurt?

  "Well there were the fireballs, the guy with the axe. And well. The claws pretty much went from the side of your face all the way to your calf."

  "Ah." She thought it over and lifted her right hand to feel. "Missing some hair. Eyebrows." She winked a couple of times. It hurt. "Both eyes are working. Ear?" There was a big pad stuck over . . . Liz shook her head. "Don't worry about it." She felt her left shoulder, stopped at the first touch. "Ouch." Wiggled the left fingers and felt them against her belly. A zinging shock of pain up the arm. She decided to not try to move it. Wiggled her toes. Pain shot up her left leg. She blinked watery eyes and tried to breath evenly. "So, how's the siege going?"

  "They act like someone is hitting their rear defenses. Kurt said that maybe the Vistans have come. At any rate, they're leaving us alone."

  It seemed like she could hear a distant baby crying. "Quail behaving?"

  Liz hesitated, sighed. "She's very upset, and refusing to nurse."

  "Stubborn kid. Prop me up and bring her in."

  "December, you are in no shape to be feeding a baby!"

  "Ouch. It hurts when I smile. Tell you what. If invading Arbolians come pouring down the hallway, I'll do something energetic. Until then, Quail and I can just lay here eating and drinking like a fine pair of Laaaaydies."

  "Damn right, that's what you are going to do." Liz raised her head and shoulders just a tiny bit and stomped off to return with a weakly sobbing Quail. "Don't you even think about moving your left arm. And a claw caught your left breast, but not very deep, so maybe it won't hurt too much."

  Quail was too hungry to complain, this time, and fell asleep quickly.

  "What time is it? Or should I say, what day is it?" December closed her eyes.

  "It's Sunday, late evening. Almost exactly a day after they snatched you right off the wall. Drink this."

  Water, laced with wine, she rather thought. "Hmm, Okay. I'll sleep now."

  ***

  "So?" Kurt looked at Liz worriedly.

  She smiled crookedly. "Just like always, 'ouch that hurts, yes, I'll just lie here, bring the baby.' She wasn't even upset over the ear."

  "Well, she's got that wine. I guess for someone like that, anything not fatal just isn't worth worrying about."

  Liz blinked away tears. "She's so strong inside, it's almost scary."

  Kurt snorted. "She's scary, any way you look at it. Now you come and eat. I think we can actually stop worrying about her."

  Dinner was a savory stew, but Liz stopped at half the bowl.

  "Hey," he put a gentle hand over hers. "You saved her, when the lot of us were just standing there watching. She's safe."

  She nodded. "And I'm going to keep her that way, damn it. Alth
ough how I'm going to manage is hard to say."

  "If those are Vista troops out there, more help will be on the way. We don't have to keep it together too much longer."

  He walked her back to the end rooms, checked that lady and babe were sleeping, then headed out for his nightly rounds.

  North gate first, to find Lieutenant Jenner, who'd had the command all day, and of course, asked first about the Lady. "She's conscious, she seems . . . infuriatingly calm about it all."

  "Ah, where she comes from they probably fight gods once a month or so, just to keep in practice for really dangerous stuff."

  Kurt laughed. "It really makes you wonder what she's fleeing from, you know?"

  Yells arose from beyond the Arbolian campfires. They listened intently to the clash and ring of swords somewhere out of sight. Thundering hooves, a scream. Silence fell again.

  "And nobody has dared pick it up yet." Jenner told him.

  "What?"

  "Down there. See it gleaming? That's the Lady's sword."

  "Hmm. Don't tell me, let me guess. Magic?"

  "Could be. Those other priests, they finally came out with torches and swept up most of their sand, managed to keep the colors separate, too. But they didn't touch the god's body, nor the Lady's sword."

  "Hmm. I'll ask the Lady about it tomorrow." He looked back at a yawn. "Lieutenant Jenner, I have the command. Goodnight."

  "Captain Alpha, you have the command. See you tomorrow, sir."

  Good man, Jenner. Overdue for promotion. Wonder what he did to get this duty? Or maybe it's not really a punishment assignment?

  He walked the wall, and listened until sometime in the early dawn when Franklin found him. "Anything?"

  Kurt showed him the Lady's sword, and repeated what Jenner had said.

  "Well. If it weren't so far out there, I'd be tempted to try and grab it."

  "Too big of a risk." Kurt leaned his elbows on the hard rock. "Tomorrow's the end of March. The farmers should be plowing their fields, getting them ready to sow." He looked to the north-west, and the cloud bank that was moving in. He watched as it swallowed the Seven Sisters.

  Franklin eye the sky. "Haven't had a frost the whole time we've been here, and it's about time we had some rain. This is fourth year, after all. We should be having a freezing wet miserable end of winter and a cold wet late spring. I was beginning to wonder if the Arbolians were using magic to dry things out."

  "May have been. Maybe that broke yesterday, well, day before now." He looked at the sword again. "Captain Stone, you have the command."

  "Captain Alpha, I have the command. Going to sleep on the hallway floor again?"

  "Yes. Laugh if you dare."

  "Wouldn't dream of it."

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Wednesday, March 25, 3493 AD

  Jeramtown, Arrival

  Liz stopped slathering on ointment and glared at the Lady. "How can you take it so lightly?"

  "Ah, it was only a little muscle this time, no lung damage, not even any major arteries." December said. "Mind you, I probably look pretty funny with no eyebrows and one ear. And the hair is definitely de classe."

  "I hope you realize that everyone wants to meet the man brave enough to marry you. If he was around would you be making jokes about your hair?"

  "Hmm." She started to smile and winced. Her reddened skin was already peeling. "Hmm. Do you know, I don't remember enough to even guess what he might do." A distant rumble of thunder rolled through the window, and the light pattering of rain picked up tempo.

  "You keep remembering little bits and pieces, though, don't you?"

  "Yes. Maybe I should have just sat on this side of the gate and gotten roaring drunk. Then I could have gone right back home."

  "Our loss."

  She smiled and winced. "True, and I would have missed watching you and Kurt. And this Wolf person isn't here, so it doesn't matter what I look like."

  Liz shook her head and went back to slathering. Two long slashes from shoulder to elbow. She tried to not remember seeing the bone. Two shallower cuts bracketed the deeper pair, one down the side of the breast, the other trailing across shoulder blade and down. Those two outside claws had missed altogether on her legs, there were 'only' the two jagged rips from the hip bone all the way to the lady's calf. The claws had gone right through her riding boot. Made it easy to get it off.

  The lady touched her burned scalp carefully. "Do we have any more of that marvelous soft cotton cloth? I think I need a hat, hmm, something sort of helmet shaped, covering the ears, so people won't get upset. Not to mention hiding the state of my hair. That wine doesn't have a 'regrow hair' spell in it. And the ear must be using up most of the healing parts, else these wretched itchy scabs would be gone."

  Liz snorted. "Those claws went deep. And you were already injured and between the two, I'm surprised you have any blood left at all. I'm glad your healing spells have enough sense to concentrate on the important stuff."

  The lady managed to grin and wince at the same time.

  "Tell you what. I took your riding suit to the laundry to see if the women there could do anything for it, and they took it away, saying they'd make you a new one. I'll mention the need for a matching helmet-hat."

  "Or I could make myself a metal helmet . . . in a few days or so."

  "Oh dear, a sign of common sense, are you falling ill, M'lady?" Liz wiped her hands and shook her head. "That's all I can do for you, I'm afraid."

  "It feels much better. Or at any rate it doesn't feel so much like it's going to crack and bleed if I move." She shoved herself upright awkwardly and one handed. "Now, what's going on out there?"

  "The other Priests built coffins for the priest and the god, and a box for your sword. Kurt thinks they're lead lined. They tipped them and got the god and the sword in without laying a hand on either. They've got this huge nasty looking black goat and a dragon chained up to the wagon that's got the colored sand they swept up, the coffins and your sword in it. I think they're taking it all away."

  "Oh. My spells that bounced." She started laughing, and then crying. "Oh, that hurts, Old Gods! A goat and a dragon." She snickered, tears running down her face. "They're just soldiers. Poor fellows. Oh dear."

  "M'lady! Stop that!" Liz tried patting her burned face with a damp cloth.

  A tap at the door. "Need help?" Kurt's voice.

  Liz sighed, and walked to the door, opened it a crack. "She just keeps laughing about the goat and the dragon. Which is a bit painful with a burned face."

  "Sorry, it's just, the poor innocent soldier that's suddenly trying to cope with being one of those goats. It's hard to explain. Their history is absolutely obscene. Of all the things to remember!"

  Kurt sighed. "You know, I wasn't going to mention the goat escaping long enough to commit indecent assault on several of their officers. In full sight of everyone. It had the biggest, nastiest . . . umm, never mind."

  Liz blinked. "Do you know, I think I am too innocent for some knowledge."

  He nudged the door open enough to lean in and kiss her. "Good."

  "Go eat whatever meal is due with the man, Liz. I'm fine. Quail will be fine for a couple more hours."

  "All right, but first, drink this."

  The Lady eyed the mess uneasily. "I don't think I'll ask." She swallowed it cautiously, "Not too bad. I'm not sure the spinach was a good idea, though." She finished it. "Now go relax. I'm going to listen to the rain and sleep."

  She slid down and closed her eyes, so Liz reluctantly withdrew.

  "What do you want to bet she'll be up and doing something when I get back?" she trailed him, looking over her shoulder, uncertainly.

  Kurt slipped his arm around her shoulder. "If it hurts, she'll stop. If it doesn't, then there's no reason she shouldn't be doing it."

  She shook her head. "Now you sound like her. So, what are the Arbolians doing now?"

  "The Priests pulled out this morning, with an escort of twenty. I really, really hope our new friend
s out there don't attack them, I want that powder and the god's body off my land."

  Liz nodded fervent agreement.

  "The rest of them seem to be building siege towers."

  "Oh. For an all-out assault." She gulped. The Arbolians had always had such overwhelming superiority of numbers, it was inevitable that they would bring them to bear. "I guess, with our reinforcements coming they can't wait any longer."

  "Plus their morale has to be in the pits. We beat their nasty 'real' god. Killed him." Kurt shuddered. "What kind of people are they? To have creatures like that?"

  Mr. Richover waved an invite at them, and they wound through tables to join him. "How is she?"

  "Looks awful, feels pretty good." Liz smiled. "How's the research going?"

  "Poorly." He looked severely at the pair of them. "I hope you realize that I am going to end up giving witness before the Bishops about this incident? I've written it all out, with every single gory and strange detail I can think of, but that won't be good enough.

  "But going through the Newindies archeological studies I have, I did find some more references to women, the Moon, the phases of the Moon and so forth. There was even one strange book analyzing why the Newindies always drew the Moon from the same side. The writer claimed it meant the Moon used to not rotate, and then he speculated that the catastrophe that ended their civilization was related to the Four Year Comets, and that enough comets hit the Moon to start it rotating."

  "Huh. Might as well say the Four Year Comets are the cause of the bad weather and crop failures the next summer." Kurt shrugged dismissal of the idea.

  The girl brought them stew, beef this time, and fresh rolls.

  "Tell your mother the Lady drank it all," Liz said.

  Kurt chuckled. "You're doing it too. I can hear the capital 'L' in 'the Lady.' Everyone is doing it now."

  Liz smiled. "Well, if she doesn't deserve it, who does?"

  "Now I'm going to have to defend the formation of a cult." Mr. Richover muttered.