by Pam Uphoff
"I didn't know gods had enemies. You don't fight with the God of War do you?"
"Hell no." He winked at her. "He hands out Just Deserts left and right. Gets it wrong sometimes though. Humph. We rub along pretty good, so long as I keep my distance from other people and the dogs under control."
"I suppose the God of War must be the enemy of the God of Peace."
"Oh yes. Especially since The Golden Boy thinks that True Peace will only come when there is a single government for all people and everyone is completely equal. He's quite fun to be around, he collects so many people who really need to get their Just Deserts."
Tromp wrinkled her nose. "Does he think everyone ought to be equally rich or equally poor?"
"I don't think he thinks at all."
"Hmm, and what enemies does the God of Just Deserts have?"
"Mercy. Wretched woman. The people she thinks deserve mercy . . . don't deserve her brand of mercy. And the God of the Roads, he protects everyone, no matter who they are or what they've done. And Love. The man makes me sick with his sappy poetry. And Chance, there's a real pain in the ass. He doesn't care if someone deserves to win or lose." He chuckled. "But the gods aren't all bad. The God of Eternal Youth gets a bit tedious, sometimes. The juvenile humor, you know. But I do hope he's here. He has some truly outstanding moments. Arty Marty is a real pal. Hysterical, what some people call art. And it's always fun to watch Virtue and Vice pretend they don't have anything in common. Twins, you know?
She shook her head. "Not actually."
He leaned over and kissed her. "Of course not. Let's see." He counted on his fingers. "Eleven, what two am I missing? Oh, the Ladies. How could I? Health. She'll heal anything, specialized in reproductive medicine, and was the only genetic engineer among us. Then there's Logic. Gah! Get her drunk and she goes off in really weird directions, but sober, no sense of humor at all. Bleck."
"It doesn't sound like you have any real enemies." She was relieved.
"Oh, I do. Or rather I did, but we left them behind, and after all this time, they're gone to dust and blown away, while I'm alive and getting laid. How's that for Just Deserts?"
"It sounds like some should come your way."
"Oh, it will. As soon as I'm back in touch with people, it will all start again." He wrapped his arms around her and laid a suddenly gentle cheek against her hair. "Maybe you will still be able to stand me. That would be more than I deserve."
Uneasy with his change of mood, she changed the subject. "Do you think they can get those buildings open? Somehow I doubt they'll use my methods."
Hell chuckled. "I should think not! I can't believe you actually managed it. Ha! Those rapists got their Just Deserts, indeed. They've got the outer shell down in one of them, but they don't seem to know how they did it. I don't think they will get any further." He leaned over and nuzzled into her neck. "Want some more Just Deserts?"
Chapter Eighteen
1373 Late Spring
Ash
He shouldn't have kissed her. The Auld Wulf paced around his vineyard, and wished it were later in the year. Harvesting grapes, crushing them, the painstaking work of getting the right yeast to grow and the bacteria not to grow . . . Right now he didn't have enough to do to take his mind off Rustle. Or the dreams of wives long dead. Do I dare love again? Or should I admit that it is way too late to think about that? She's still so young!
Twenty years old, the age at which he might have been bold enough to start wooing her. She'd been gorgeous, all elegant in a black riding outfit. Bright intelligent eyes, just enough figure to make a man sit up and take notice. Damn those rapists, and damn his year's slumber and dream state. They'd started all wrong . . . but she'd wanted that kiss. Maybe, maybe it wasn't hopeless. Maybe he just needed to wait a little longer. To remember enough to finish mourning the past, to forget enough to feel young again.
His restless feet had taken him down to the Village, and he cocked an ear at the unmistakable cry of a newborn. Ash was still growing.
A pretty collection of chestnut mares was tied to the rail outside Harry's, so he wasn't surprised to find Dydit and Justice huddled over delicate little exercises, while Gisele and Harry chatted.
Two other witches sipped tea off to the side, and pretended they weren't watching the odd lessons. Watching a wizard and a witch manipulate things they couldn't see.
They weren't the only baffled ones.
Nil sat back with a frown. "Justice can show me what she sees, but I still can't see it directly."
"You never will, boy." Gisele looked like an old crone today. The Auld Wulf had never been able to see though the illusion, and rather wondered if there was one, or if she shifted shape from crone to matron to maiden. After all If Dydit could turn into a goat, and the dragons turn from human to drake in a few moments, surely a different human form would be easy enough.
Gisele cast him a beady eyed look. "It's all subtleties, instead of coarse changes. You should try it."
"No thank you." Bad enough he had memory problems, he wanted to recognize what he saw in the mirror.
"Hey Wolf, you like those mares out there?" Nil abandoned his studies for his favorite hobby. "Sun Gold daughters. Romeau says the only horse he's even seen that might match Sun Gold is your stallion. He says you have quite a horse tucked away in one of these bubbles some people claim to be able to see. Why don't you show him off? We never see more than a shadow when you get hauled off. Wouldn't you like to see what sort of foal he produces? Perhaps with those mares."
"Well, he's a larger, heavier type than Sun Gold, I don't know that you'd want to cross their lines." He grinned at Nil's expression. Then looked around at the door as Answer walked in.
"I'm too old for these collections of births." She informed the room. "Henceforth, I am going to tell the girls to get pregnant at monthly intervals. No closer." She eyed the Auld Wulf, then turned away.
Justice snickered, "Four nights, four babies?"
"Yes, and why Iron decided she should advance at eighteen is beyond me. Not to mention Zenith and Cost decided to have babies again, just a year after their first. And Swish! She just isn't mature enough for this. I think we need to avoid those Rip Crossing people."
The Auld Wulf shrugged. "They were all raised to be mages and witches. Not ordinary people, with normal courting habits, and marriages and all." He tried to keep his tone mild. He'd already alienated the mages, he didn't want to drive the witches away.
The old witch bristled. "And two of the late girls have grasped power. And they both refused to come back for training. They're as bad a Rustle."
Dydit's head jerked up at that. "There is nothing bad about Rustle. You drove her out. Your most talented student, probably the most powerful witch of her generation because a god was able to interfere with her reproduction." The man's anger showed in his crisp diction, with the edge and precision of an educated upper class Scoone Wizard of eight centuries in the past. "Perhaps you should think before you kick people out. There are at least three people in the village who know enough genetics to detect whether a child has a power gene or not. I suspect you could as well, if you weren't so busy being superior."
Never sucked in an alarmed breath.
Answer straightened, all weariness forgotten. "We are staring a disaster in the face. It is my duty to whip the pyramid into shape to redirect the comet."
"Good to hear that." Dydit turned away.
Wolf could hear the effort he put into softening his accent, tone. He is, after all, a very intelligent man. He knows how badly we need the witches.
He leaned back and made himself stay silent. Rustle would not want me to harm the Pyramid in any way. He sighed, made himself face the truth. I would not approve of me harming the Pyramid. And not just because we need them for the comet. But because I'm old, and need to nurture and care for long lasting things. Vineyards. Universities. Pyramids of Witches. Cities and Villages. Entire countries, watched them grow from the ideas in a few heads, to organized settl
ements and to kingdoms worthy of the name.
How long will Rustle live? Gisele knows the genes that confer the longest lifespans. The genes we gods all have.
And what if she doesn't have them? What will you do then, you old fool?
Answer gave Dydit a final glare, then turned and walked out.
The Auld Wulf stepped after her.
"Answer. The children of the gods tend to grow slowly. If the two late bloomers in Rip Crossing aren't Whoop and Ask, you'll have them as well."
She shrugged angrily. "Yes. It's them. Your children."
"I try to stay out of your business. But in this case, I was remiss in not speaking. I'll talk to them. They may just be being stubborn on Rustle's behalf. But with Verse, they'll give you another triad. Am I right in thinking you're encouraging the Crescents to advance a bit early?"
Answer scowled at him. "They'll have two and a half years to train in the Half Moon skills. I just . . . get irritated when they turn around and have more babies. They need to concentrate on learning. Practicing. They have no discipline, no respect for their elders."
The Auld Wulf nodded, and kept his silence.
"When we were smaller, had just a few children strung out in age, these sorts of things didn't happen. That wine! Twenty-seven children from essentially random matings, all the same age. It was bound to make trouble." She glared at him.
That wine. Gisele and I had a few too many glasses, then challenged and dared each other . . . Even we don't know how many spells we put in the wine. Multiple healing spells, rejuvenation, aphrodisiacs . . . Answer had recognized the powerful spells—after she'd drunk the wine—and had quickly gone home with her daughters. And at that moment, he'd walked by. And been dragged inside. Lucky to get out alive. He was the father of her twenty year old daughter, her daughter Delight's twenty year old daughter, and her daughter Happy's twenty year old daughter. And now, her great granddaughter's three and a half year old son . . . The main surprise was that she hadn't killed him.
Over the child being a boy.
As far as he could tell, witches really didn't care about the rest of it.
Come to that, he was now a grandfather twice over. Ultra was all witch, he'd get a cool reception to any attempts to be Granddad to her pair. Maybe he should visit Rip Crossing, spend more time with Whoop, and Whoop's little Hazel. See how Ask was doing. She'd been one of the slow developers, kicked out. He should visit Rip Crossing.
Visit Cadence, spend time with Xen. Put old memories and pain behind him and woo Rustle, not just grab her and kiss her occasionally. Check her genes, damn it. First.
The Auld Wulf pulled his mind back to the conversation. "And only produced two new . . . witches with dimensional abilities."
Answer drummed her fingers.
"Rustle and Xanthic. Havi, Cor and Brad can also see dimensionally. In two and a half years we may need all of them. We should try and get them trained as well."
Dydit growled behind him.
The Auld Wulf looked back through the open door. "Obsidian, Topaz and Xen are all too young." He said it gently. "But they can all see." Your whole family, poor sod. I should go check all your goat children as well.
"Never, can we take our children and flee this god infested valley?"
"Yes, dear, but that still won't solve the problem of the comets, will it?"
"Don't go all logical, witch. Have those Earth people changed their tune? Or their reports on the comet, for that matter?"
"Lefty and Question check in with the astronomers regularly. It looks bad for the Lamb in three years. Two and a half, really." Nil fidgeted. "Damned Earth people still won't trade. Act like they own us."
The Auld Wulf ran a hand through his hair. "The main problem is that what we've tried worked so poorly. Even if we train the children, and hunt down all the goat babies and test them we won't have as many magicians as we had a thousand years ago. We could barely budge that comet, then. Like the little one five years ago, we broke it into pieces, but the pieces were so large, and so many of them that we couldn't deal with them all. I suspect the same tactics won't do for this next one, either."
Answer scrubbed her face wearily. "We could have levitated it away if we'd had more time. But we could only reach out perhaps three or four hundred miles. We could look at it, once it was closer than the Moon. For what good that did us. I'll talk to the Dark Crescents." Her lips thinned as she pressed them together. "I'll talk to Rustle, and the two witches in Rip Crossing. We need them too." She glared at the Auld Wulf. "I will talk to the mages. They, or Beck at any rate, still blame you for Coo's death. Maybe they'll listen to me." She smiled wryly. "Assuning I can find some diplomacy in my soul."
Chapter Nineteen
1373 Summer Solstice
Cadent, Verona
After the visit of multiple gods, Rustle's only problem with the Virgins of Love was their enthusiasm for helping her. She finally put the eldest of the Children to work. Apart from a tendency to get distracted by Love Poems, they were not bad at analyzing the culture behind the words.
As Summer Solstice approached, the Temple got busy, crowded. Rustle threw up her hands, grabbed the book with all the hand written notes in the margin she was trying to decipher and fled the city.
Rustle and Xen rode Phantom and Junk, over the Valasik's protests.
"The stud services have sort of dropped off, and you know everyone will be busy for the next week. You won't even miss him." Rustle had told them.
Both people and horses were glad to be out of the City. Xen was delighted to see more of his mother, and she felt a pang of guilt for all the hours she studied the old books. At three and three quarters, Xen was still small for his age, but his coordination had caught up with his speech, so physically he didn't lag much further behind his buddy Fermi.
Unfortunately they couldn't get far enough from people to avoid the Emperor's Annual Celebration altogether.
It was not—officially—a country-wide orgy.
But everyone treated it like one.
They gave up in a small town full of revelers. Which proved that where the head is willing, no special wine is necessary. They were getting ready for a town-wide orgy.
"Mostly with their own husbands and wives," the fat lady who handed over a key to a room winked at them. "But there will be quite a few weddings in the next few weeks. Just lock yourselves in by midnight and no one will bother you. Apart from the noise."
"Thank you ma'am." Rustle pocketed the key as they headed out to look for dinner.
Rustle turned toward the square, dragged by the eager Xen. She tried to move with the crowd, not attract attention.
A few jugglers, food and drink stalls. It really was a small town. A band warmed up. Xen was fascinated and ran to listen to each instrument as it was misplayed.
The first man who grabbed her inappropriately lost enough power to probably keep him out of the orgy. Rustle shivered. I will not panic, or lose control.
"You light up like a flare. You need to learn to shield."
She spun. The golden youth was close behind her.
"You are so easy to follow."
"Thank you. I'll look into that," she told him politely. Over him, I can panic.
"Oh, so cold!" He looked down at Xen. "How interesting. I suppose I should train up some mages to assist me, but create a new god to challenge me? Only Wolfgang would be so foolish." He laughed and strolled away.
Xen grabbed her hand, and edged halfway behind her. "I don't like the way he looked at me."
She lost sight of the God of Peace, in the crowd, spotted him with what looked like a group of town officials. Lost him again.
She eased over and hesitantly pulled all her power carefully around her and tucked in. I used to be still and quiet. Without even thinking. She remembered the un-noticeable spell, the little twist of the mind she'd used so often subconsciously as a child and held it in her mind as they walked.
None of the men Peace had spoken to seemed to be doing
anything inappropriate. She and Xen sampled every edible in the square, and settled in close to watch the concert and dance. He was asleep before it got rowdy, She carried him back to the inn and locked him in their room, the key on his side, in case he needed to get out. She could turn the lock magically, easily enough. She sat and watched the main square, but whatever the Golden Boy was up to, it wasn't happening here.
Still unnoticed, she walked back to the inn.
Two other Inn patrons were yelling about their horses being stolen.
Xen was gone.
The horses were gone.
Rustle sat down quietly in a corner, and concentrated. Called Phantom. He was south of the town, tied up, and angry. Through his eyes she saw Xen, being held by two men.
:: Mom! :: His mental voice echoed suddenly in her mind, and the sudden blaze of magic gave her a solid recognition point. Rustle stood up and stepped forward.
Into the dim light of a campfire.
"I told you! No slaves! No little boys, you pervert! We are here to steal horses, not slaves!"
The other men were arguing, jerking Xen forward. He squirmed angrily. "Mom!"
One man slapped him.
Rustle kicked off her shoes. Stalked forward, collecting power. She was nearly trembling with rage and she collected a handful of energy and squeezed it down to a useful throwing size.
The man who'd slapped Xen received the first fireball. It hit with a burst of flame and he collapsed without a sound. Flames flickered and died down in his charred skull.
The man arguing for stealing boys got the second ball between the eyes.
Rustle collected another handful as the screams started and the swords came out. She missed the leader as he ducked, the tent behind flared, engulfed in flame. She threw two more and everyone was running away from her.