by Pam Uphoff
Dydit sat up and stared across the little valley they were in at the moment. The south end of the ridge was . . . "Over there? You know, Wizard's Towers are supposed to be in remote areas, hard to reach. Not conveniently placed for rotating pastures around. Ash is going to spread out a lot more, isn't it?"
"Probably triple the amount of land the village uses even for grazing." Question studied him. As a goat he'd always avoided her, all of them had. Common sense or Nil? "We're going to have a proper horse farm."
Dydit smirked at Nil. "What is with you and horses? I'm beginning to suspect you have an Equine Perversion. Breeding the Inquisitor General's horse to every mare in the valley? Mind you, a couple of the foals are outstanding, but . . . "
"Me?" Nil looked innocent. "I thought you . . . "
Justice sent him a quelling look. Then blushed and smiled.
Dydit remembered her, all right. Her mother had started playing with the goats' power and paid the price. By the smell of her daughter, Mon Sant had won the toss. Huh, so Question was three-quarters wizard. He looked enviously at the pair of them. No one had ever looked at him like that—even when they'd had that wine.
Maybe he'd go into town for dinner and chat up . . . Urk! Maybe he should stick to the mage girls. Or avoid women altogether.
"In any case," Justice frowned at Nil, "I believe you said something about the King wanting to find the rest of the goats. Three are dead, what of the other five?"
"One is accounted for. The Org brothers and Neet are still at large." Nil hunched a shoulder. "Why are they my responsibility? I really don't want to go away again so soon."
"And you'd better get back in time for the haying." Justice said. "I'd never realized how hard it could be without a wizard to do the cutting."
Dydit looked at Nil, raising eyebrows.
Nil shook his head. "You stay here. We don't want any unfortunate accidents."
Justice narrowed her eyes.
Nil shook his head again. "I'd better be the only other wizard around. Apparently Bran and Oscar can spot them, and I suspect that Storm Mage can as well. It's not like I let them go on purpose, but I'll head for Karista and see what they have in mind."
***
The Six Virgins of Love were doing excellent business. The shrine of the God of Love was pulling in donations right and left, as they spread the Joy of Sex and Procreation to all who came to the new temple to worship. The city councilors had left them alone since the memorable day they'd come to complain about the false claims they said the temple virgins were spreading.
"And you are rather obviously not virgins." The obnoxious Mayor Danefek had said looking down her nose at their pregnant bellies while her weedy secretary scribbled notes as he followed in her wake.
Rain, their spokesvirgin had explained that they'd had sex with the Goat of Love, not a man, and were therefore still virgins. Several of the other Council members, both male and female, had snickered about that.
Ah, their tune had changed when they'd tasted the ever-sacred wine.
The Virgins had discovered that so long as they never actually ran out, refilling The Bottle rendered all the wine poured into it sacred.
After the City Council had finished their orgy, they'd dressed and departed, and never returned, nor had they ever again spoken of the temple. The Major and two women Councilors were currently taking rather long vacations.
And now it was time. Sleet kissed the goat statue in the center of the temple, as her sister virgins finished putting the babies to bed.
Wind hugged her. "They're posting notices all over town about the public presentation of the Prince."
Dust hustled in, veils in hand. "I just heard she had no problems with the delivery at all, just like the others."
The Palace Orgy had resulted in, at last count, three hundred and five babies. Probably more, some women weren't admitting that they'd been there. Some were claiming prior pregnancy, to avoid any charges of adultery or illegitimacy, which was pretty funny, seeing as how everyone had been fucking everyone else, in plain sight of everyone.
The Emperor had given large gifts to all the pregnant serving women, practically every one in the Palace, when he dismissed them. The money had enabled most of them to find husbands or start businesses. The six dancers had founded the temple. Or rather, were trying to figure out how to properly rededicate an old temple. Who knew how old the structure was, it was of sound enough construction to last centuries, so perhaps it had. Now that they'd scrapped the paint off the exterior, and let the marble show through, it certainly looked like a temple.
The Sacred Wine had brought the blessings of sex and pregnancy to hundreds since.
And now it was time for the cycle to start again. Time to summon the God of Love Himself.
They lit the candles and the incense, and as the sun set, they danced. Wearing not very much, beyond the veils that floated and clung at will, the tiny bells and chimes, and the thumping of their bare feet kept time to their love songs. And a fog flowed over the floor of the temple, pulsing with their songs and stirred by their feet. It flowed, and they sprinkled the sacred wine on it, and drank, as the mist pulled into a tower and shrank and solidified into a man.
"Oh, long grief for what is lost,
But now the reawakening,
True love can never die."
Rain paused in her dancing to kiss him, then whirled back into the dance. This incarnation was tall, broad shouldered and handsome, dark haired and blue eyed. One by one the Virgins kissed him and then they pulled him into the dance he knew by instinct, pausing now and again with each Virgin in turn as the others wove their veils about them. At first kissing, and then embracing, and as they partook of wine, finally laying them on the altar and making long satisfying love to them, one by one. And finally, having satisfied his worshipers, The God of Love donned clothing, and swept the Virgins a low bow and flourish with his plumed hat.
He pulled his horse out of thin air, and rode off.
"The path of True Love is rocky,
But I will find the way."
***
It took the entire trip from Karista to Ferris Province for Oscar to get used to the Sheep Man being all cleaned up, unsmelly, and possessed of an actual name.
The retired General Negue was pleased to see them.
"Bit of a quandary, y'see." He shrugged. "Those goat creatures were apparently raping their way through every female in the household and surrounding countryside. I know its not the women's fault, although not coming down hard on immoral servants is contrary to good discipline in a household, but what am I to do in this case? There are six women with child or delivered in the last few months, who claim that those things are the only possible fathers. What sort of monsters are these children?"
"Hmm," The King's Mage turned to the Sheep Man, "Nil, you're the scholar here."
Nil shrugged innocently. "The Black Goats of Scoone are so ancient they are practically mythical. They are believed to be the leaders of a coup against one of the Wizard Kings of Ancient Scoone. The Wizard King is said to have turned the traitors into Black Goats of incredibly evil appearance."
"I'll say." The General muttered, "You should have seen the pizzles on the two Rufi's men killed." He nodded acknowledgment to Oscar and Bran where they stood being good soldiers and pretending they weren't listening.
"I've got them in my rooms." the Storm mage pointed out. "The King thinks that stuffing them like the Temple did with theirs would be in poor taste."
The General chuckled. "I've heard about their display. Is it actually, er, in the act of leaping upon the Inquisitor General?"
"It's very effective theatre. Although the manikin that purports to be the Inquisitor General is rather better looking than the real thing." Seleno said, "But, these babies?" He looked to the Sheep Man.
"As the true essence of the goats is human, the babies are human. Now, the goats may be wizards themselves. Fortunately, wizardry, like the mage power, tends to run in intermarried
families, half wizards like these babes shouldn't have much power. However, our knowledge of wizardry is so old and incomplete, it might be a good idea to keep an eye on these children."
Well, the Sheep Man always had been a talker. Clean him up and he really sounded like an expert. Oscar wondered if he'd overlooked a fourth member of the old gods. he leaned over to Bran, and barely breathed. "Sight."
Bran looked puzzled, but moving slowly and casually, managed to puncture his finger and reach casually over and touch Oscar's eye.
It watered with the effort to not blink, and through the tears, he could see the bluish tinge of the old storm mage and the glittering silver and gold aura around the Sheep Man. Bran was bluish too. The old general had a bit of shine, more than normal people, but not in a class with the mages and wizards. Maybe he's one of these half wizards, himself?
The elders were talking now about moving the pregnant women to Karista, and recent sightings of the goats, or Rivolte's people, of which there hadn't been any.
"We rather think they got across the desert and into Auralia, as did the bulk of the duke's surviving troops." he chuckled, evilly. "And best of luck to them."
"And, of course, there's the question of the duke's daughter. Lady Eltia is just eighteen. Miscarried, thank the old gods. But what am I to do with her?"
So after prowling the border areas and finding no indications that the goats had returned, Oscar and Bran found themselves escorting seven women to the City. Oh, the Sheep Man and the King's mage were there too. But the women, mostly young, were much less afraid of their young escort than the old. Apparently the goats' human forms had been fairly old.
The two older women—both past thirty—turned out to be the Lady's Nanny, recently retired, and her Governess, equally recently hired. They were both well educated, and the Sheep Man, pending the King's approval, offered to hire them for the village school.
"School?" Oscar asked, amazed.
"They were just finishing up the roof, last I saw." The Sheep Man shrugged. "Twenty-something babies." his eyes twinkled mischievously, "I'm sure you heard that Fava and Juli both had twins?"
"Oh, yeah." Bran's eyes slid toward the goat babies.
"One each was fair, and one each was . . . not."
Oscar shuddered. Fava had had a goat baby. Some day he would have to see her again, talk to her. Hold his baby.
***
" . . . so I couldn't just leave them there." Nil explained. The babies, and the mothers of three of them, were tucked up and asleep in the Tavern. He'd have to see about houses near the school. Tomorrow.
"How many children are you planning on raising?" Justice was having a hard time keeping a straight face.
"Umm, I think this makes thirteen." Nil admitted.
"Our three, your Veronian orphans makes six, and these six babies makes twelve. Who am I missing?"
"Dydit. I got a bit of a late start, there, but he's got a great deal of growing up to do yet."
"Umm, he's one of the goats, isn't he?"
"Yes. He was Maleth's apprentice. Twenty-three years of age when he got caught up in that goat spell. I'm afraid I was a bit desperate and didn't switch to a lesser spell for him."
Justice rubbed her temples. "He behaved very well while you were gone. He's afraid of witches and as far as I can tell, terrified of Question."
Nil smirked. "I put that spell on all the goats. Not being a witch, she didn't have the same level of protection they had, naturally."
Justice buried her face in her hands. Her voice was muffled. "Just tell me he isn't my father."
"Oh no, that was the Duke of Mon Sant. Oscar killed him about six months ago."
"I really ought to beat you, the things you've never told me."
Nil slipped an arm around her. "Not my fault. You wouldn't talk to me, after. For about fifteen years."
"Hmm, until you got me alone with about seven bottles of that wine. I'm surprised I didn't have triplets."
"I wanted to keep you around long enough this time to impress you with my brilliant mind and warm personable personality."
"So you've brought back three teachers, and six babies, to keep an eye on an additional nine babies, twenty-seven toddlers and the three boys."
Nil chuckled. "Nina and Fera will be good teachers, and Guti just loves babies. That's half the reason those other women gave their babies to them."
"The other being that they couldn't stand the sight of them?"
"Yes." Nil sighed. "I certainly hope the witch and mage parents are planning on helping out. I know I'll be fielding a lot of the boys' questions. Especially Weg's. What about Juli and Fava? The mage kids have always been well educated, would they like to teach?"
"Now, there's a good thought. They've been feeling a bit useless, not to mention poor."
Nil hesitated. "Am I wrong to want to keep wizardry alive? The King would have had the babies killed without a second thought. I, umm, messed with the goats' inheritability, all the children will get the wizard genes. None of the girls will be wizards, that'll take another generation. And the boys, well, I don't think I'll mention that castration would allow their brains to develop the ability to manipulate power. But if they are around each other, grow up together, have children, there will eventually be more wizards."
"Like our children."
"Two of them. I rather think Xanthic is going to be the witch daughter you've always wanted."
She looked at him in surprise. "Really?"
"Yes. I'm surprised that so many—all, in fact—of the witch babies born in the valley inherited the ability, until Question. Historically, only half of all witch daughters got the ability. I think Answer and Blissful may have been cheating."
"Next you'll be telling me that witches can have sons."
"Oh no. That's been the way it is for longer than I have ever read about."
"Thank goodness." Justice hesitated. "So, which Wizard King were you? Nil . . . Nihility?"
He nodded. "Born, bred and raised to be a tyrant, to fight and kill. It took me the longest time to realize what a tool I'd been."
Justice shivered suddenly. "Umm, do you have any idea about the stories they tell about you?"
"Exaggerations, honestly. I don't eat babies," he sat carefully beside her, looking a bit worried. "Never have."
She snorted suddenly, and leaned into him. "Don't start."
"Yes, dear."
"So, whose tool were you?"
"The wizards. My father. He wanted me to follow in his footsteps. The gods. They kept messing with the wizard lines, you see? Wanting to encourage strong magical abilities. And Gisele out-and-out married Lord Neve and gave birth to my mother."
"Gisele is your grandmother?"
"And the Auld Wulf and Harry, and some of the other gods who came around may have been birded and sired several of the other women in my pedigree." A tinge of bitterness sharpened his tone.
"Nil?" she hugged him.
"I was raised to be a horrible person. By my father, my mother, uncles, the Court, the Nobles. Everyone had their own agenda, and they all depended on me being . . . strong, by a definition of strength that I see now was completely wrong. No, not completely. There are times when the iron fist is needed. But it should never lack compassion, and that I was never taught. And so I was a tyrant.
"Grandmother wasn't allowed to pollute my mind, but I suppose she succeeded a bit or I wouldn't have had the ability to change. I thought I was walking away from it all. I thought I'd escaped, but I wound up here, with them. Oh . . . the gods are almost human, they sort of realize what they've done and sort of regret it. They realize they have to let us go our own way, now. They aren't trying to rule through me or their other creations. They aren't trying to defeat the Goillians or the Sea Kings. They aren't . . . They try to just provide a safe refugee, here in the valley." He blew out his breath angrily. "But 'almost' human isn't human. They really don't understand what they did to us as individuals, with that wine. They just thought our socie
ty needed a bit of shaking up and some new blood. More magic users." He looked at her uncertainly. "If not for that wine . . . "
She snorted a bit. "I'd never have gotten the nerve to, to break the barrier I'd erected," she grinned suddenly. "Come up to the hot springs and I'll show you how much I regret that wine."
He laughed, and followed her. Hot springs were an excellent antidote for old nightmares.
***
Never looked at her students in exasperation. The five young women . . . "Particular. First you are too young. You have not finished the lessons you need to know to most easily pass to the next level. If you seduce a man now you stand a very good chance of harming him. All witches do, but the poorer the understanding, the more likely the harm. That's why we usually chose arrogant asses for our first. Anything we destroy is likely to improve them. But what about nice men? Say, a certain storekeeper with handsome looks, a good mind and charming personality. What would you risk destroying, in him? Would you like to see him a drooling idiot for the rest of his life? Or perhaps, sour and mean?" She stared at the girl, gave her time to stew a bit. "You're so randy it worries me. We can't have a witch that deliberately harms men. Answer tells me that it has happened before, and it really gives witches a bad name."
Particular scowled. "But love, true love . . . "
Old gods, spare me this! "In any case, what I wanted to speak to all of you about was the trip to Wallenton next week. Catti? Zam?" Both young women were shaking their heads. "All right. Question? Opinion? Particular?"
Particular, unfortunately, lit up. "Will Brock be going?"
"I haven't heard." Never sighed. She was going to have to talk to Answer about the girl. There was going to be a problem.
There was a problem all the way to Wallenton. Fortunately they only stopped two nights on the road. Particular flirted with Brock, but didn't go so far as to attempt to seduce him. Until they were in the inn they usually used, in Wallenton. Then she tried to cut him out of the male circle, sitting up late fleecing the locals at cards.