by Pam Uphoff
"My paternal grandmother's from Farofo. My mother from Ferris Province." He winced a bit, and decided against details. Not yet. "We live in Trebidor, about two hundred and fifty miles south of Karista. My Father is the Land Grant holder, there. "
Not too big of a brag, he hoped.
The Kingdom of the West had been set up on a grid of two hundred mile squares, with a 'Lord' holding the land grant for each. Then every six grants became a province, with one of the lords named duke, with specific duties and authority. In time it had gotten much messier, with younger siblings spreading the title of 'lord' until it was nearly a meaningless courtesy. A few of the old families had died out altogether. A few of the land grants had merged, and more had been added in the southeast, and now they were adding entire provinces east of the Great Divide, in these new lands he hadn't managed to see yet. Then there were the Crown Charter towns, and the city of Karista itself.
The Council of the West now included twelve dukes, two governors, five city representatives, and eight guild or professional representatives, in addition to the king's four appointments.
So, really, even though he was the eldest son of a land grant holder, he wasn't too far above a daughter of this 'Lord Hell.' And, ordinary lord or not, this Hell was obviously well to do. Building that big house, he must have brought in city laborers to get it up so fast. It really was a good match.
He frowned a little, "Actually I haven't finished all the reading I brought along. Never did track down the local nobility. Have you met them?"
Her expression was a mixture of amusement and dismay. "Tanner, you poor man. You don't believe in witches and wizards. Do you believe in gods?"
"Well, I suppose in the abstract, as a construction perhaps of the collective subconscious if there is such a thing, or just deep seated need of all of us to . . . What?"
She'd buried her face in her hands, shoulders shaking. She took a deep breath and visibly braced herself. "Tanner, the local nobility consists of . . . " she stared at him hopelessly, and shook her head. "Lady Gisele, The Auld Wulf, Harry, the Sheep Man, and Answer. Sir Romeau is a relative newcomer."
"Yes, Veronian title, although he doesn't look particularly Veronian." He frowned. "The Sheep Man?"
"Umm, Nil."
"Oh. Him." Frown. "Nobility?"
"The old, cross me and die sort. Not one of those pansy City Lords. Answer is the Senior Sister of the Mount Frost Pyramid."
"Pyramid?"
"That's how we witches arrange ourselves. Mother is the Senior Sister of the Karista Bay Pyramid."
Tanner relaxed in relief. More jokes. Thank the gods! Nil, noble. Honestly, he should have known.
***
Garit had a great time at dinner. To his surprise, he found Heliotrope and Sandy good company.
"You dozen always hunt in a pack," he told them. "It's flat out scary. That's the main reason you can't catch Xen."
"There's only six of us!" Heliotrope protested.
Sandy snickered. "Depends on who you include in 'us,' doesn't it? 'Only' six of us are Trump's daughters, but Zenith and Cost have two daughters each, well three, but the last two are only thirteen and they live in Rip Crossing, anyway . . . Plus Tir, who's one of Edmund's children, and those city girls who practice with us, and sometimes we all go together to parties, and they've got little sisters, too . . . "
"Enough!" Heliotrope was giggling. "Poor Garit's looking pale. He didn't realize there are actually thirteen of us, with more almost old enough to come out."
Garit snickered. Staven's girlfriend is one of those 'city girls' and nice enough to make a man wish that witches did marry!
Having Heliotrope after someone else was part of the charm. She seemed to find the subject half painful and half funny.
"Do you have a crush on our Xen as well?" Obsidian started setting down plates. Xen's aunt. He'd threatened to introduce Garit to an aunt once, hadn't he said she was just four years older than Xen? Obsidian didn't look like she could possibly be twenty-five. And what was a few years difference, anyway? She was beautiful, with dark golden blonde hair and curves in all the right places. And best of all, she lacks the hungry calculations of the Sisters from Hell.
Sandy shook her head. "If Xen had ever shown the faintest interest, I might have fallen for him, though. Really, he's so cute, and . . . I dunno, he just takes everything in stride and deals with it, until you figure he could probably deal with anything."
Garit nodded. "He's totally impressive. I started out thinking, oh no, a country bumpkin illegitimate cousin, I'm going to die of embarrassment showing him around. A few days later and I'm trying to imitate him."
That got nods all around. He checked back on his Colonel. Lady Azure had her hands over her eyes and her shoulders were shaking.
"I think she's laughing." Heliotrope smiled a bit. "Did Xen ever tell you about the Wine of the Gods, Garit?"
"No. I mean, I've heard of it. Everyone knows about it. But he never said anything." He eyed them curiously. "What exactly is it?"
Obsidian snickered. "Well, that's the problem. We don't actually know. You get the God of War and the Goddess of Healing and Fertility drunk and spell making together, you'd best approach the resulting brew very carefully. We're keeping records of its observed effects, and trying to dissect the spell web."
Garit choked. "Drunk? Umm, I haven't heard of any aggressive effects."
"No, apparently the Auld Wulf is a happy drunk." Heliotrope giggled.
"Horny is what she really means. And I'll bet the guaranteed fertility is his too." Sandy snickered. "And some of the mix-and-match stuff."
"Mix and match?" Garit looked curious.
"Well, apparently the spells are perfectly capable of sorting through multiple sperm from different fathers and picking out all the magic genes to substitute in for the less magic ones." Heliotrope shrugged. "We just really don't know."
"Except that the babies tend to be the magically best that could possibly happen." Obsidian said. "I think that must have been the Auld Wulf, I mean, look at Xen."
They all looked at her curiously.
"Oh, that's right, none of you are from here, and he's a few years older . . . When the gods are badly injured, overstrain themselves, or possibly when they just get old, they sort of hibernate for a year or two and wake up younger and healthier. Rustle was in Karista for the King's ninetieth birthday. A pack of young nobles decided to put the illegitimate upstart in her place, which involved putting a rope across a trail and chasing her down it. She hit her head—fractured skull, internal bleeding—Mother really did have to use the Wine. Rustle thought it over, realized that if she didn't want to have one of the rapist's babies, she needed to add some very magical sperm to the collection. Sorry, did I leave out the part about gang raped while she was unconscious, and then regaining consciousness and killing two of them, damaging four and two escaping?
"Anyway, the Auld Wulf was hibernating and recovering, and she slipped into bed with him. He had a dream he was creating a baby god, and well, nine months later, Xen."
"Baby god?" Garit was skeptical. "He doesn't do much magic. I've bugged him enough to get a couple of demonstrations, but really, what he mostly does is talk to horses."
Obsidian laughed at that. "Oh yes, and act like they're carrying half the conversation. He claims Harry's old horse can do magic."
Heliotrope looked wistful. "I've never seen any of it."
Obsidian shook her head. "Girl, you are in love with an idea in your head. You see him at parties where he's playing at being a spy tracking the embassy personnel, or on duty as the King's Own watching for trouble. The real man is different and you need to figure that out."
Sandy yawned, and excused herself. "It's going to be another early morning, tomorrow."
Heliotrope nodded agreement, and tossed a look over her shoulder. "I think I'll just slide on home and leave Azure with her pet. My idiot sister Inky brought a half bottle of the wine of the gods to the Tavern for that celebrat
ion, and of course it wound up in circulation. Magically enhanced romance all over the place, and it looks like your Colonel has a bad case of it."
Obsidian snickered. "From what I've heard, he doesn't think magic exists."
Garit nodded ruefully. "He certainly doesn't believe in witches. And I really don't think he'd credit magic wine with how he feels."
Obsidian stepped into the kitchen and back out. "I grabbed a room for you. I assume you and the colonel are staying?" She held up a key and bottle, half empty. "Are you brave enough to try the Wine of the Gods?"
***
Tanner brooded all the way back to the Fort. She had told him that witches didn't marry, trying to let him off easy after admitting that she was pregnant. But he didn't want off, he wanted to wake up the Mayor and make him fill out the papers. Right. Now.
And she'd refused.
Oh, damn it. He'd been so stupid! Why had he . . . good grief, up against a tree! Damn it, she was everything he wanted and he wanted her, he wanted their baby.
"She is going to marry me." He said it out loud, in a determined voice.
Garit was caught halfway through a yawn, and choked. "What? Lady Azure? Witches don't marry, sir."
"Stop that. I'm tired of hearing about witches. I am going to marry that woman."
Garit blinked at him and shook his head as if shaking himself awake. Hmph. The boy hadn't gotten much sleep. Tanner frowned, wondering who he hadn't got it with.
He'd seen Lady Heliotrope leave, alone. So it was either Sandy or the waitress. He hoped the boy had had the sense to tup the waitress, and avoid the nice girl who might make a fuss.
A fuss.
Azure must not have told her parents. She needed him near for that, or better, to marry him and then no one would fuss over an early baby.
Garit frowned at him. "If she doesn't want to marry you, it's not going to happen." He looked around the snowy landscape. "You're going to have problems with the flowers part of wooing, you know."
Wooing. "Of course. So. How am I going to impress her? My singing is . . . mediocre. Candy? Jewelry?"
"Frequent dinners and long conversations are good, sir, so you're off to a fast start."
"Umm, frequent. That's going to be tough."
"Ah, but if you get yourself set in her heart, she'll be glad to see you after your longer trips." Garit frowned. "I really shouldn't encourage you. I mean, she said no?"
"Several times," he admitted. "So I need to court her first then propose again."
"That sounds wise, sir."
Chapter Fifteen
Winter Solstice 1391
Karista, Kingdom of the West
The Winter Ball was the evening after the Solstice, as always. Inconvenient for witches, who tended to spend the entire night before communing with the moon and the night.
Trump had been tempted to keep the girls in Ash . . . but then Answer had commented on the Karista Bay training . . .
She ended the Karista Bay Pyramid's ceremony early, and had all the girls in bed shortly after midnight. The boys had been snoozing forever. Twelve years old and growing like weeds, all three of them.
Half of the girls were growing in other ways.
She should have known letting them go off to Harry's for dinner would turn into, well, not a disaster. But she'd been practically-married to the God of Just Deserts for sixteen years, and she'd come to expect things like this. She shouldn't have let him go check on the girls. If he'd stayed away . . .
Well, she now had not one, but two Triads poised to advance by virtue of all they'd learned, and the channeling they'd sort of learned and the babies they were carrying.
She'd let them go to balls for another month or so, then they would have to be dragged kicking and screaming to Ash for at least half of the year. Everyone knew witches didn't marry, and had babies anyway. But that was no reason to beg for tittering and arch comments from those powerless plebian so-called noblewomen.
Hell had worked with Never and Dydit to build a very nice house in Ash. The girls could continue lessons with the Elder sisters there . . . and much though she hated to admit it, so should she. No doubt Little Miss Perfect was still ahead of her academically, but Trump was going to beat her to the level of the Waning Half. Hmm. If the girls would hurry up a bit, she could sing her own advancement to Waning Half at the Summer Solstice on Mt. Frost.
She felt an actual sting of homesickness for just a moment.
She eyed Inky. The girl was definitely putting on weight. Had she gotten a jump on her sisters? They were so competitive. She approved their turn out, drilled them on a few illusions, and they loaded up in the carriages.
The girls, of course, were immediately whisked away by young men. She checked them over and approved of most of them. Empty fluff for the most part, useful for dancing and not much else. Heliotrope had caught a wizard, that wretched Xen. Damned if she'd share a granddaughter with Rustle . . . although being on the maternal side, not to mention the Elder Sister of the Karista Bay Pyramid, Trump would have control, hmmm . . . When the dance ended, Xen handed her off to another young man, plain as pudding, and disappeared himself. Thought he was too good, did he?
As usual after they'd made their entrance, they'd stepped well away from the buffet line and the bar. So she noticed a stranger working his way through the crowd toward them. He wasn't one of the usual group of youngsters that always seemed to hope that being close to Lord Hell would get them their just deserts, which they always pictured as fucking some untouchable beauty.
"Lord Hell? I'm Lord Grifin Trick from Trebidor on the south coast."
Trump eyed him. He had that attractive deeper coloring she'd always admired in southerners. Otherwise a tall, handsome man in his late fifties.
Hell raised an eyebrow. "Any relation to Colonel Tanner Trick? We met recently."
"Indeed he wrote me, quite extensively about your daughter Lady Azure."
Old Gods! Not a love affair. She could see the man was quite ordinary, not a magical bone in his body. She looked around and spotted Heliotrope, and summoned her. "Dear, could you find Azure and send her over?"
"Certainly, Mama."
Heliotrope resembled her father, tall with hair so pale it was nearly colorless. She was in her usual lavender today, and the purple ribbons made her hair nearly match her gown. Lord Grifin's eyes followed her speculatively, then swung back to Trump.
"May I present Lady Trump, Senior Sister of the Karista Bay Pyramid?" Hell's eyes twinkled a bit as he saw the man's confusion. "Pyramid of witches. All our daughters are witches as well."
Azure stepped through the crowd, looking as elegant as always, in green today, bringing out the green in her changeable hazel eyes. Lord Griffin blinked and straightened.
"Azure, this is Lord Grifin Trick . . . " Trump did bother to go further, as Azure lit up as soon as she spotted the man.
"Lord Grifin I am so glad to meet you. Tanner certainly takes after you."
Trump met Hell's eyes and shrugged. :: What did Azure do to deserve falling in love? She is usually so good. ::
Hell grinned at her. :: Love is usually considered a good thing. ::
She repressed a giggle, and set herself to be good company and impress the poor man.
He was a little boggled by the size of their family. But really, nine children wasn't that unusual. It was just the close ages inevitable when one had twins, quadruplets and then triplets that surprised people. Not to mention the wide spread of their looks. Trump had switched her hair to a shimmery golden red brown to make the range of hair colors in the girls a bit less surprising. Otherwise, well, she was a witch, and they would no doubt speculate no matter what. Let them. She could always send the Hell Hounds to piss on them in public, or hump their pet poodles.
The girls bickered all the way home about the propriety of Azure's attachment. Trump let them. After all, Azure was a witch and could do anything she wanted.
Except get married.
***
By
midwinter the new denizens of the Tavern had settled down to a routine.
Flare ran the kitchen, Kipp and Bug waited tables. Xen continued to run the barn, and Nick fetched and carried, assisting in stables or kitchen as needed. Harry returned to keeping the bar and the inn rooms with a sigh of relief.
Xen started teaching Nick some basic sword fighting, and quickly found himself teaching Flare, Bug and Kipp as well. When the weather was too bad, it was magic lessons in the kitchen.
Flare gazed wistfully at Kipp's easy gathering of power.
"He's older than you are and just, umm, how do I put this delicately? Crashed his way through two major steps in the growth of a magician."
Kipp had looked exasperated. "What are you talking about?"
"Puberty and loss of virginity."
The Auralian shot a quick glance at Bug and Nick. "I am not going to get into the perversions of . . . Well, alright I was . . . inexperienced in that way of . . . Arg! At least my voice is still decent, however deep."
"Indeed." Flare sent a censorious glance toward Xen then turned to the kids. "I need a vote. What should I fix for desert tonight?"
Fortunately they were still young enough to be distracted away from the mysterious adult subjects with an appeal to their stomachs.
Several times a week Kipp gave guitar lessons. And he sang with the kids while he tried to get used to his deeper voice as it settled.
"You had a lot of formal training," Flare commented.
He curled a lip and made her practice her fingering.
A huge party came in from Ash one night for a going away party for Quicksilver, Xen's sister and Flare's friend. The whole family came, including the venerable Answer, still the Elder Sister of the Mt. Frost Pyramid.
Six years younger than Xen, Quicksilver had spent more time in Rip Crossing than Xen and had gone to school there with Flare and all of her friends, a sizable portion of whom had come along.
The older relatives left early, and the younger crowd had time to catch up with each other.