Wine of the Gods 29: God of the Sun

by Pam Uphoff

  The Priest was scowling.

  "Umm, I doubt we'll be here long enough to be worth troubling you. Did I understand correctly that you have a number of exploratory gates to Empty Worlds? That could make a first survey and comparison of a dozen Worlds simple, if we don't need to negotiate for access."

  "That would certainly simplify my part. It will be a lot easier to place Corridors to the right latitude rather than make entirely new Gates. Now, are you camping as you go World Hopping? You'll be able to hunt on a lot of those Worlds if you wish. It makes supplies stretch."

  Trace nodded. "Hadn't actually thought about that. Good idea. We've got the telescope mounted in one wagon, and another set up for living in."

  "Good. There are several very dangerous Worlds. We'll arrange protection for you, while you are in them. Err, do you know what dinosaurs are?"

  They all stared at her, even the Priest. Marius swallowed, nodded.

  "I'm sure you'll want at least one of those Worlds in your collection."

  "Two, for a minimal comparison of similarities and differences." Marius breathed. He rounded on the Priest. "How soon can we start? We won't be using the Embassy building, so there's no need for us to wait."

  The Priest looked disturbed. "We don't have guards or anyone to watch after you."

  "There are no dangerous animals here, but once you start moving to other Worlds, a guard detail might be a good idea." Quicksilver jumped in. "Just ordinary dangers, mostly. Bears and wolves, poisonous snakes, mosquitoes."

  Marius nodded reluctantly. "I'll talk to my father about hiring some men. Perhaps some recent army retirees. In the meantime, perhaps we should spend some time here, finding all the rough spots in our equipage."

  "At any time, Doctor Menchuro." The Fallen left them alone then.

  The priest gave them a quick tour of the unfinished building. They all looked appreciatively at the luxurious quarters being prepared for the Head Priest. And especially the skylit and high windowed quarters for the resident Gods. The Major God had quite a suite. The workmen were mounting the heavy barred door as they took a quick look. The Little Gods had smaller chambers. "We may not even bring any." The Priest scowled. "The Fallen are quite nasty about slavery. The Senior Priest who has been appointed can draw power from half a mile away, so we have only to get the God of the Sun into the Embassy, and then we'll be in a good solid position."

  "Are you worried about actual magical attack?" Trill looked wide-eyed. "I thought, an embassy planet . . . "

  The priest chuckled, indulgent and superior all at once. "There will be some jostling back and forth. Once they find us unassailable, they'll stick to diplomacy. The first weeks should be interesting. You lot . . . be assured that we will be watching, and studying how they treat you three."

  Marius snorted. "I see. Not being embassy staff, if we mess up you can easily disavow us. But you may get some idea of how your staff will be tested. Well, we all serve in our own way. Do you prefer that we try to ignore them, or should we display our powerlessness so as to draw them out and make them careless?"

  The priest chuckled. "Pity you weren't attracted to politics. Try to ignore them, make them show how far they are prepared to go."

  "Yes, sir. Perhaps we should take them up on the 'anytime' and bring everything tomorrow. Before they have time to get ready."

  "Indeed. Do that." The priest gave him a nasty smile.

  Chapter Six

  The God of Thieves

  Kevi noticed the two strange mares tied up in front of Aunt Susto's and looked worriedly at the Brat. The filly was big, but still only six months old.

  :: I won't let them hurt her.:: Speed assured him.

  Aunt Susto looked out the door and beamed at them. "Oh Kevi, that's handy. Could you take the girl's horses and put them in with Beastly? They want to breed them." She ducked back inside.

  "Umm, sure, no problem." He loosened the cinch and pulled saddle, saddlebags and blankets off Speed in one staggering armful.

  ::No problem?:: Speed sounded steamed.

  "Well, umm, I thought you were going to kick Beastly's liver out? And it probably serves these mares right to have to deliver over-sized foals." He peeled the improvised girths and blankets off the two mares.

  Speed snorted contemptuously and turned her back on him. He sighed, and looking at the two mares with their winter coats half-way grown in, dug out his bottle of wine. He led them around to the pasture and through the gate before uncorking the bottle and giving them each a handful. Beastly trotted up and looked pointedly at his hand.

  :: I need some, too, for two mares.::

  "I hope you're not turning into an alcoholic. That would be so sad in a horse."

  Beastly curled his lip in amusement. :: That stuff cures drunks. It even cured Tyrone.::

  "True. Well, I don't actually know about Tyrone, he seems pretty determined to get drunk at every opportunity, but it sure cleans up other alcoholics."

  "You sound pretty funny, talking to the horse." Lizard was hanging over the gate. "That's a really fine filly Speed had. Aren't you going to breed her back?"

  "Nope. She figures two are quite enough."

  Beastly swiveled his ears, and looked speculatively past the house, but turned to trot after the two new mares.

  Lizard snickered. "She figures?"

  Kevi shrugged. "So, you've got magic now, can't you hear him?"

  "No, I ain't crazy."

  "So, what's been going on? You guys still winning every pulling contest in the grant?"

  "Grant? Man, we're winning all the contests in the Province and with these Corridors, we're whipping up on everyone. I can't believe Mortimer bred his dam to some lightweight horse, instead of back to his sire."

  "Oh, do you know his breeding, then?" Kevi perked up, this might satisfy Havi.

  "Not really. He's sired by some draft horse up north, and his dam's sire is a black wheel horse out of Rip Crossing called Lava. We dress it up for the shows, call the sire 'The Old Dun' like he's a big deal. That's what Mortimer calls him."

  Kevi choked and started laughing. "Oh, no wonder he's something special. Old Gods! Let me tell you all about his lineage, but don't worry, you won't believe a word of it if you aren't a wizard and can't talk to the horse."

  Lizard and his cronies didn't believe a word of it. Their cousin or whatever—Kevi'd given up on relationships in the family shortly after meeting them—Tyrone, gave him a sharp glance and looked out the back door at the pasture.

  "I swear I've heard that horse threaten to kill me a few times."

  Kevi bit his lip. It would be Tyrone that figured out how to use his power genes!

  Lew and Eddi came in, escorting two gorgeous girls. Kevi could tell they were witches by the glow. Natural witches, not the funny sort of flicker coming and going from so many of the people who'd gotten potions. Tyrone straightened up and started charming them, and Kevi decided it was a good day to eat and run.

  "Sorry I can't stay." He kissed Aunt Elma on the cheek and ducked out. Speed was cropping grass in the front lawn.

  :: Lew and Eddi tried to sell my saddle! The Hounds growled at him.::

  "Well, this is a Den of Thieves, you know. They're Bad Guys." He stuck his head in the front room. There was no sign of Aunt Susto, so he rummaged. Surely this was where he'd seen the . . . yep. Bags of colored sand. Now if I just knew what it is I need this stuff for . . . He loaded them into his saddle bags and waffled. No. The God of Thieves doesn't pay. Besides, she owes me for tons of stuff.

  Speed snorted and let him saddle up. The Brat stopped chasing the hounds and followed her up the lane, the dogs hanging back a bit. Well, at least they'd growled at someone. There was hope for them yet.

  Chapter Seven

  The Maze

  "She wasn't kidding, about the maze." Marius scribbled notes next to the sketch map—more of a diagram, really—as they followed the faint traces of previous travelers.

  "So this should be an Early Holocene Empty World."
Trill glanced over, then returned her attention to the team, as they followed the faint tracks down a gentle slope. Trace, driving the telescope, was driving the wagon behind them.

  We need more people, but . . . we just can't have anyone in the way, if—when—a chance to help Warric comes along.

  "Asia. That would mean tigers instead of lions." Trill eyed the tall grass, so minimally affected by the traffic through here.

  Guards. We really ought to have hired guards.

  And . . . why is there any traffic through here at all?

  "Dr. Quicksilver's notes claim there's a campsite by the lake. Now if she'd just given directions . . . "

  "To that lake there?"

  He followed Trill's pointing finger. Across a band of trees at the base of the hill, water stretched a couple of miles out toward the green horizon. "Oh, well, I suppose that might be the lake she means."

  Trill snickered and put a foot on the lever of the drag brake as the hill steepened a bit. Down on the flat, the track bent right and into the trees. Now the road was more obvious, the limbs of the trees cut back for easy passage of wagons larger than theirs. A quarter mile and the trees thinned abruptly and they drove out to a grassy, sandy shore . . . where smoke rose from a ring of stones, and picketed horses turned to neigh at them.

  Half a dozen figures leaped to their feet, swords and bows in hand.

  Chapter Eight

  Smugglers

  The wagon jerked to a halt as Trill's hands tightened on the reins.

  Marius grabbed for the sword behind the seat . . . then paused as his brain caught up with what he was seeing.

  Women, wearing pants. And children.

  Only four adults. He dropped the sword. Held his hands out peacefully and climbed slowly down from the high perch, careful to make no threatening movements.

  One woman strode forward, as the other three spread out, bows in hand, arrows nocked.

  Marius walked out to meet her. "Umm, Hello? We're a science team working out of Disco? I mean Embassy? Dr. Quicksilver gave us a map of the maze . . ."

  The woman's shoulders relaxed. "Oh, well. Sorry about the reception, but we've had trouble with Earthers before."

  Marius jumped as a boy popped out of nowhere at her side.

  "There's only three of them, and Aunt Crimson, they've got something really weird on the second wagon." The boy looked about seven, wiry and bouncing on his toes, a shock of black hair that definitely needed a trim shading bright blue eyes.

  "It's a telescope. We're astronomers."

  The woman grinned. "A telescope? On a wagon? Oh, welcome to the camp. Do come in and have some dinner, and tell us all about it."

  They were all from Comet Fall. Three sisters, Crimson, Walnut and Macaw Ultradaut, with their four daughters aged three and four, and a nephew, the popping-out-of-nowhere boy. Zodiac claimed to be seven. Precocious magic user! Their friend Eden Negue was also a witch, with seven-year-old twin boys, horribly jealous of the friend with magic.

  "Don't worry, boys, you've both got the mage gene, you'll grasp power, most likely when you're teenagers." Eden sighed and looked over at Marius. "What age do your wizards or mages or whatever grasp power? What do you call them?"

  Marius and Trace swapped panicked glances. Marius swallowed. "Usually a few years after puberty starts. We . . . in Arbolia the priests control anyone with magical abilities. We hide ours so we can get on with our studies and have a normal life."

  Crimson nodded. "Arbolia. We've heard horror stories. So . . . tell us about your telescope. What are you doing?"

  The witches were good company, and when prodded, told the story about the aborted invasion of Arrival from the Arrivals' point of view. It differed considerably from the official Arbolian version. The astronomers found it entirely believable, if obviously exaggerated here and there.

  "You can't break a Chain spell." Marius shrugged. Dammit!

  The witches all giggled. Trill frowned.

  Macaw leaned over and stage whispered. "Deflowering a virgin gives a burst of power that can break strong spells, like the Chain."

  Marius repressed a sigh. Silly superstitions!

  "So, what are you guys doing here?" Trace eyed their horses—beautiful riding animals, no wagon in sight.

  "Oh, we explore, ramble around and do a bit of trading."

  "And hunting!" One of the twin boys put in. "I'm almost old enough to hunt!"

  "Huh. I hadn't thought about, well, just independent traders wandering around." Marius frowned at Trace's grin. "What?"

  "Oh, I just suspect there might be a few less tariffs and taxes paid than the various authorities prefer."

  The witches all laughed. Without denying it.

  Transdimensional smugglers. Holy Arbol!

  "So, you guys are pretty familiar with the Maze? We need high altitudes for the best viewing conditions. Preferably south of the equator. Do you know any . . . "

  They talked until well after dark, and the witches were superb cooks.

  The smugglers were fascinated by their project and rode along with them, showed them some rarely used gates.

  "If you ever come out into a big stone box, it means there are dangerous animals on the far side. Dinosaurs, mostly."

  Trill buddied up with them and asked questions.

  Mostly about the Chain spell.

  "Nil says the spell has a hand-hold—a key. If you know it, you can manipulate it."

  Could they telepath each other through the gates? No? And later, the trio compared thoughts. "If we can get Warric through a gate . . . "

  They became quite familiar with the maze—the safe parts.

  When it was time, they'd know where to run.

  Chapter Nine

  The God of the Sun

  Warric didn't react when the initiate burst into the office. Head Priest Brekley startled and glared.

  "Earth is sending soldiers through their gate!" The initiate was gasping for breath.

  Warric rather cynically thought that Brekley needed to start drilling his underlings, if a run from the front door produced this degree of breathlessness.

  "You have to get out of here quickly, before they capture our gate!"

  Brekley straightened and his glare went diamond hard. "Oh, I think not." He got up and marched out, and Warric followed without being summoned. He could only hope the Priest would over-do today.

  All the Embassies were emptying of personnel. The group from One World was spreading out into a long skirmish line. Comet Fall was led by women in groups of three. The Disco forces seemed to have been caught undermanned. The tall wizard was striding toward the Earth Gate, aggression in his movement, no one at his back.

  Brekley marched past the gate back to Paree, hesitated, then moved more slowly toward the Earth soldiers.

  "Sir, sir! You must stay safe."

  "No. I must see what Comet Fall is going to do." He stopped roughly halfway between the Earth Gate and the Arbolian Gate.

  Warric could feel his hunger for the Fallen's power, barely restrained. And with him/through him see the wizard's magic. He had layered shields up, one physical and one electromagnetic. Warric stared. Two very narrow slices of the spectrum. Did the man know the wavelengths of the Earth's laser weapons? He made note of them. The physical shield was odd. Not solid, somehow, but fluffy. The Fallen enlarged it, shaped it around the Earth soldiers and anchored it to the ground. More Disco agents were closing in on him, coming from all directions. Must have interrupted their home leaves or some such.

  The soldiers had set up a defensive perimeter around their gate as if they expected it to come under assault. They had some larger guns on wheeled carts. The carts moved easily, as if powered by more than muscles. They were turned to face away from the Gate, and their wielders hunkered down behind their curved glass-like shields. Must be tough glass.

  Warric did jump at the sudden flare of light to his right. Another Gate was opening. Brekley backed hastily away from it, hands raised to cast a spell.
Warric touched the Chain. Dead, dead, dead. The glittering white faded to a chaotic scene. Scruffy looking brick buildings, three and four stories tall, tanks, or perhaps some other sort of armored vehicle. They had the cannon and machine gun on top, but the backs had dropped down to form ramps, and there were Earth soldiers running around . . . flopping to the ground and morphing. Hair, hooves and horns. Much faster than the Priests were able to do morphs. Quicksilver walked into sight, waving her left hand.

  Soundlessly, from his perspective, a stream of something flashed through the air, striking the buildings opposite which started throwing off shards, the bricks disintegrating like a child's mud bricks in a torrential downpour.

  Quicksilver turned toward the out-of-sight source of the stream. One of the machine guns on one of the vehicles, turned and started firing at her. The impact on her shield staggered her. It must not be solidly grounded. And then she twisted and collapsed. The firing ceased, but the young woman rolled back up to her feet. Blood on the ground, blood dripping, clearly visible on the charcoal uniform.

  Warric shot a glance at the Comet Fall people, the Disco agents. One of the agents was running forward, his eyes on the battle beyond the Gate.

  Brekley backed away from the confrontation, turning to converse with the Ambassador who was hustling up. Warric stepped away, maintaining his 'respectful' distance, stepping back toward the Gate . . . he turned and leaped for it. Brekley's mind snatched at his, but his momentum carried him through. He threw his best shield at the Chain and dived for Quicksilver. _Her_ shield was wavering, collapsed as she folded. He flattened next to her, concentrated on the shield. She fumbled a flask, couldn't open it. He unscrewed it, tipped it to her mouth. I hope that's one of the fabled healing wines.

  She swallowed, then pushed the rest away. "Hide it, you may need it worse than me someday. Chain spells have a handle, a phrase that interrupts the circle, so it can be handled by the caster. If you were there when they made the spell, analyze what they said, look for a pattern beneath it. Of course, deflowering a virgin is always a fun way to break a . . . " Her eyes rolled up and she went limp.