Wine of the Gods 03: The Black Goats

by Pam Uphoff

  Idea tested the temperature of the third pool, and nodded her approval. The girls were already shedding their clothing, and Never stripped and joined them, easing carefully into the hot water.

  Justice was leader today.

  "Sisters of the Moon, our power comes from the heavens and the earth. From the rock and the stars. Our magic does not drain from the living, as a blood mage, nor from the storms as a lightning mage. We feel and use the attraction between the heavenly bodies, tap it for our needs. The greatest power is the attraction of the sun for the earth, the second power is the attraction of the earth for the moon. Pulled between these two forces, the earth is heated, and that is the heat you feel here."

  Indeed. Never could feel the power. It was strong here, nearly as strong as on the peak of Mount Frost during the midsummer full moon, where they convened the whole pyramid once a year to celebrate advancement through the phases. This year Opinion's and Particular's inclusion in the Tier of the New Moon would be celebrated. And maybe, Never eyed the girl, maybe Question's advancement to the Crescent Moon. That would over-fill the Triad, but surely one of the Sisters would manage a baby before the next year's midsummer full moon.

  "Relax and meditate in the heat of the earth, absorb the power."

  Kindly dropped a stern glare on Question, and the girl lowered the hand that had been about to splash Opinion. The girl leaned back and floated, instead. Couldn't she feel the power?

  Never relaxed into her own meditations, seeking to first store the power, and then shunt it aside, so she didn't overfill and injure herself. The elder Sisters had warned that a woman could even be driven insane or die if she tried to hold too much power. How could a woman come by that much power? Would she be able to hold more and more as she advanced? If she ever advanced. She'd heard that witches did gradually gain strength, even without losing their virginity. I don't want to find out how long "gradually" is.

  "The first step up the Pyramid of the Moon is to grasp power. To consciously manipulate the abilities most of you have used to a tiny degree subconsciously all your lives. The next step is to learn to channel power around your body, and gain major bodily awareness. Loosing your virginity is the fastest, most certain means of learning to channel. Bodily awareness leaps into focus with childbirth. The nine months—or more—between are the most intense training period of your lives. You should have the academics already, learned since you first grasped power. You know how to collect and disburse power, and can hold a physical shield. Now is time to learn metal-working, differential detection of rock types, ores and gems. After you have given birth and advanced to the Tier of the Half Moon, you will learn to use your new bodily awareness for the diagnosis of ills and healing. The years as a Half Moon will hone your skills in all disciplines, and further advancement, to the Full Moon when your daughter grasps power, and the Waning Half Moon when you become a grandmother will add additional power-collecting abilities and thus additional power to all your workings. As you reach menopause, another large step becomes possible. You can learn the techniques of traveling and building.”

  "But today we will concentrate on the Sisters of the Crescent Moon. You are able to store power and shunt power away. Two of you have learned to channel power. You need to learn to control the channeling. Not just push it away so it does not enter you, but to be a conduit, so the power flows through you to where you want it to be, and does what you want it to do." Kindly shook her head at Never. "This is not something a virgin can do. Mostly and Likely, you didn't quicken, but you should have learned to channel during your sexual experience." She frowned as both women looked blank. The older woman stood up and stepped out of the pool. She returned with two small copper ingots. "Feel these, metal from the deep earth, let the power flow through you, from the pool to the copper."

  They each took an ingot and concentrated on it.

  "No, no, no! You are still shunting power, bouncing it off yourself and letting it fly anywhere. Let it enter you, and then guide it out, into the metal."

  Never couldn't see that they were doing anything but staring at the copper bars in dismay. When Likely fumbled hers, Never dunked herself and grabbed it. She shook the wet hair out of her eyes and looked at the copper bar. It seemed so full of potential, but her attempt to mentally twist it skittered weakly off the surface. She handed it back, scowling. I will not be weak. Even if I have to walk to Wallenton and pounce on some fat clerk.

  ***

  "Lefty, you're looking a bit odd." Bail eyed the scout narrowly. The wiry young Veronian could track a deer on stone, and an enemy through magic, or so he jokingly claimed.

  "I circled up 'round the north end of the valley, there was a funny smell to the air." he wiped a nervous hand through his tawny hair, so close to the tone of his skin and eyes it was surprising he'd never picked up the nick name "Lion." Probably the soft, high-pitched voice. No roar there. "Found some hot springs. Powerful magic there, and then these women came. Young ones. Pretty ones." He blushed, his eyes sliding toward the lieutenant. "Stripped off their clothes and climbed right in."

  "Did you join them?" Byson sneered.

  "No, sir. I don't have truck with witches. That's what they were, talking about the sun and the moon. I came away quick."

  "Very sensible of you, Lefty." Bail dismissed him with a nod, and the young man slipped away from the fire. Bail stood up and wandered back toward the keep. They'd reached the Fort at sundown, and Bail wasn't chancing the interior until it had been inspected in daylight.

  As he'd expected, the sergeant joined him shortly.

  "Could they really be witches, Gruff? I haven't heard of a single one that escaped the Auralian War, but surely, here or there, some survived."

  "Nor me." The sergeant scruffed his boot through the thin grass that had rooted in the stony ground. "It's supposed to be a good thing, to have witches about." His voice was uncertain.

  "We're not used to magic, any more." Bail raised his face to the bright stars above. "It's something that happens in tales, not in real life. Well, except for the King's Mage. And I've never seen him do anything besides forecast the weather, and anyone can do that."

  "No wizards left in Verona either." Lefty piped up.

  Bail sighed. "Didn't I dismiss you?"

  "Figured you didn't want to talk in front of the lieutenant. Poor guy, they got him targeted."

  Gruff shifted uneasily. "How do you figure that?"

  "Ah, all the stories have a witch play a guy over, drive him up the wall, until he takes her, then they drop him cold." Lefty shifted his eyes toward Bail. "Good thing the king sent his nephew along. Otherwise you'd be the one they were stalking."

  Bail's stomach clenched. "Nonsense. I'm too ugly to chase."

  Gruff scratched his bristly chin. "There're a couple of the men that're pretty handsome. Maybe we'd better send them out the furthest. Just in case."

  Bail nodded, but turned to Lefty. "What else do you know about witches?"

  "They always come in threes. Or sixes or nines or even more. There were nine at the hot springs. Three that were probably in their thirties, damn good lookers though, like noblewomen. The lieutenant’s friend and two about her age, and three girls, just budding," he cupped his hands over his chest, “you know?"

  "Right." Bail rubbed his eyes. "What about mages and wizards; aren't they just the same, only male?"

  Lefty looked shocked. "Certainly not! Witches' powers are of the earth, mages are water and wind, wizards get their powers from fire. Of course, they all blend together, nothing is ever truly pure."

  "What do you mean, their powers come from earth, water, wind, and fire? What about blood mages? And the king's magician is supposed to be a storm mage."

  "Like I said, nothing is pure. Even solid rock has a bit of water, wind and fire in it, but it comes the closest to pure, which is why witches are so powerful. Blood mages, that's water, with some earth and water in it. Storms are wind and water, and fire as well if there's lightning. Wizards can infl
uence lightning even better than a storm mage, and control any ordinary fire. The strongest wizards could pull power down from the sun itself—but then the sun is another heavenly body, and as such contains the earth powers as well, so it all comes around in a circle."

  "How did you learn all of that?" Bail mentally kicked himself for asking. Lefty's enslavement in Auralia and escape to the Kingdom of the West was a subject best not looked into. He knew what the Auralians did to their slaves. They weren't called savages because of a lack of civilization, but because of their decadence.

  "Nothing to do but read in a harem." Lefty's jaw was clenched.

  "Well, you keep your eyes on them; we'll send the other scouts up the mountains."

  Lefty hunched his shoulders, but nodded. The other scouts would do something foolish if confronted by nine naked women. Lefty was unfortunately immune to that sort of influence.

  So Bail could concentrate on finding this "new pass" the King's Magician had "seen" and not worry about what was at his back.

  ***

  Answer rung her hands, fretting. The omens were all bad. Three young women of the Crescent Moon, and not a single one of them pregnant. The youngest hadn't even managed to lose her virginity. Mind you, up here in the Valley there weren't any young men to practice their flirting with, so she'd been incredibly heavy-handed. But kicking him in his male parts! She pushed herself to her feet and paced.

  A girl with sixteen, sixteen, moon flows that hadn't shown the faintest sign of reaching out and grasping the power of the earth.

  "This valley was our refuge after the war, after all the pyramids had been shattered and destroyed." The other four women watched her pace, and kept their silence. "It was what we needed, then. Have we missed a sign? Should we have left?"

  "Answer," Blissful's voice was reproving. "You know perfectly well that before the war only half of the girls ever reached power. I've been wondering how you managed to tip the odds."

  Answer shook her head. "Not I. But perhaps some of the old gods had a hand in the matter. Perhaps we're just returning to normal."

  She stopped at the patter of running feet. Question, in her usual brown hunting clothes, peeked through the door. Even excited and out of breath she remembered her manners. Pity about the power.

  "Speak, child."

  "Three riders on the south road. Lots of flash."

  "Hmm." Flash—light reflecting off of metal buttons, buckles, weapons, armor, and metal on the horses’ tack—meant they probably weren't bandits. "Get the Sisters of the Half Moon to their posts, but I want the Crescents down in the street."

  Question bobbed her head and dashed off.

  "All three of them together?" Delight asked.

  "Yes. They've each had a chance without competition; now let’s see how they do with it." She sighed. "Maybe I'm just impatient. The mages are doing well. And the Auld Wulf, Harry and Old Gisele. Although we don't have any idea how they ought to be doing. Who would have thought a magical war could bring down even the gods?"

  "Now, Mother," Happy hugged the old witch. "Let's give the Crescent Moons a little time. It'll work out well in the end. The old gods withdrew from human society centuries ago. They seem quite happy up here, doing very little."

  Blissful nodded. "We should also send out summonings. There were always a few outside women with abilities. We ought to try and attract them."

  Answer nodded. "Perhaps a few charms on the wagons every time we make a trip to town wouldn't hurt. Today, let's see if the Crescents can make some progress."

  ***

  To Never's fury, Likely and Mostly made it to the street first, laughing as they crossed it, walking over toward the tavern. They stopped half-way across and pretended surprise at the sight of the three riders.

  The riders stopped too. The man in front was tall and thin, raven-black hair cut short to wear a helm, but with a devastating single curl down over his forehead. The boy behind him to his right was a bulky redhead with an arrogant curl to his lip and a gem-encrusted sword at his side. The third man was plainer and older. When the first man dismounted, the older one did as well, and took his commander's reins.

  The bulky boy thudded down off his horse and tossed his reins to the third man as well.

  Never scowled, and waited until Likely and Mostly had escorted the two inside before crossing the street herself. The older man led the horses around to the stables in the back, throwing her an appreciative look, before he rounded the corner.

  Great. They got the nobles, she attracted the groom.

  Inside it didn't get any better. Mostly and Likely were sitting with the men, acting like ladies. Furious waved Never back to the kitchen, and set her to serving the foursome. Mostly and Likely hid smirks as she poured the wine.

  "Captain Wullo came through just two days ago." Mostly smiled charmingly at the young man, clearly picking up a conversation already started. "With all of you mounted, well, it's still too late in the day for you to reach the Fort tonight. Especially since the ground is rough, thereabouts. If you bide the night here, you can ride out in the morning and find the captain mid-afternoon."

  Up close, Never could see the royal pin on the man's tunic. "You're a royal courier?" she asked, pouring more wine.

  "That I am, miss," he looked her over appreciatively. “Lord Merc Hastin, at your service. And this is Lord Ferth Utner."

  The redhead leered as he looked her over, but turned back to Likely without any show of reluctance.

  "Do you get any Travelers through here?" Lord Merc asked.

  Never glanced up, but the man was speaking to Mostly.

  "Travelers? There were some that came here, oh, five or six years ago, but they haven't been back since." Mostly told him. "Is there a problem?"

  "Who knows." The Lord shrugged.

  "Tell us about the city." Likely beamed at the redhead. “The balls and dances."

  "The fashions." Mostly picked at her dress, how had she managed to be wearing one of her good dresses at just the right time? "What are the ladies wearing in the city these days?"

  Never rolled her eyes and retreated to the kitchen for bread and butter. She was just wearing a belted shift and long vest, and no doubt looked like a peasant to men from the city.

  ". . . and then the little tyke, instead of grabbing the spear like he was supposed to, climbed right over it and took up the crown and put it on before anyone could try and snatch it away." Ferth learned back with a smirk.

  Likely looked puzzled. “But, if he was the king's grandson, wasn't that all right?"

  "No, no! It's the tradition of the royal family, some say it powers a magical spell that protects the kingdom, that the first son takes up the spear and becomes the commander of the army, and the second son takes the crown and in time becomes the next king."

  "Well, he's just a baby, they couldn't expect him to get it right."

  "Ah, but you see," Merc took over the story, "it has been the habit of the royal family to take first a commoner for wife, to breed a strong healthy son. Then to divorce her and marry a noblewoman with good connections, to support the second son when he takes the throne."

  "So, they are saying that the prince must have gotten a bastard somewhere, and so the crown prince is stuck with the common wife." Ferth wrinkled his nose.

  "Not that the prince minded, mind you. After all the yelling and fuss, someone finally said something about him being stuck with her. And they just looked at each other and started smiling, and then there was a deal of kissing and hugging. Very undignified." Merc shrugged. “Which is all well and good, but where is the bastard son? We have to find him. The kingdom must have a Spear Carrier."

  Never hustled back to the kitchen and scooped up the platter of roast beef and taters.

  It smelled heavenly, and the conversation at the table dropped off as they tucked into it. Never ran back and forth with more wine, and a platter of steaming tender new vegetables.

  "That's why we were asking about the Travelers." Merc was s
aying. "The prince's retainers always make sure that any wench he tups takes golden thread, and they check them later, but he got away from them a bit with the Travelers, and they couldn't track them down." He shrugged. "Travelers. The king's men don't even know what clan they're looking for, let alone the girl's name. If the boy even exists, he'd be nearly ten years old. Everyone pretty much thinks the prince and princess are insisting on the existence of a bastard so they can stay together forever. Damned stupid of them, falling in love."

  "It's touching enough to make one ill." Ferth snorted. "The babe has no connections, how will he rule? It's ridiculous to be so superstitious."

  Never cleared the table and brought out pie.

  "I think that's nearly as exciting as the Lost Prince of Cove Islands." Mostly was saying.

  "You really understand how things work in the city, don't you?" Likely was saying.

  Never refrained from dropping the hot teapot on either of them, and left them in peace.

  "I'm going to be last!" she wailed to her mother, who was peeking out at the diners from the kitchen.

  Happy patted her shoulder. "There'll be another man along sooner or later. I took a look at the groom. What do they call them? Curbs? Curbsiders? Don't even think about it."

  "I wasn't," she grumped. "The only thing worse than no daughter this year would be a daughter like—“ she shut up quickly at her mother's frown. "Sorry. I love Question to bits, but, well, I guess she just needs time." With a sigh, she took herself off to the hot springs for a night's meditations. Maybe some bandit would come along and rape her there where the power was strongest. That'd show Mostly and Likely how to do it right.