Wine of the Gods 29: God of the Sun

by Pam Uphoff

"Yeah." Warric's throat was dry. "Do you suppose they also brought Mother here?"

  Three indrawn breaths.

  "No one else left the carriage, and Dad wouldn't walk away from Mother like that."

  Trill eased up closer. "If they rushed. If they sent for Lord Menchuro as soon as they got word that you'd escaped . . . "

  "Oh. Yes. If Dad was in Breesdon . . . a two thousand mile round trip. It must have taken them three months. Even if they killed horses, could switch teams . . . He must have just gotten here." Warric swallowed. "So, while they assemble, we need to stay out of sight."

  Kevi nodded. "But there's no reason to not dose all the food in the kitchen. And have a little scout around. In fact, if we need to get to that court building, we'll need to go way around behind the priests' housing and past the women's quarters."

  Cactus shivered. "That's where they keep the pregnant women, isn't it?"

  Kevi reached, as if to give her a hug, and quickly dropped his arm when she glared at him.

  They retreated to the storerooms, and with a little poking around, found the grey smocks the servants all wore. Not real disguises, but good enough to pass at a glance. Then it was just a matter of sprinkling the potion on the salad greens being chopped for luncheon, dripping a bit into the empty decanters waiting to be filled with wine . . . Pour it into the simmering soup . . .

  "Kevi! Will this stuff survive cooking?" Warric looked over at the marinating roasts.

  Kevi shrugged. "Haven't a clue." He upended a bottle over the big ceramic basin and walked on.

  Trill snorted. "We're not going to be able to safely eat anything here, you know."

  Warric nodded. "I wasn't planning on staying very long. But we've got to find out what they're doing to Dad."

  Marius looked around for real servants, then whispered. "Did anyone dose the bread, the flour? No? Good. Don't. Just in case."

  Nods all around.

  Because we can all see my neat little plan falling apart already.

  Then they eased back out. Turned away from the cathedral and started circling the grounds.

  "Spread out. I never saw more than two or three servants at a time." Warric led off. Hunched a shoulder and ignored the house Brekley had lived in, with his captive god. At least the daily constitutionals were good for something!

  A door opened and Warric dodged into the bushes along the outer wall.

  A red robe stepped out, the God of Jokes trailing subserviently.

  That wasn't his priest! I know Jokes wasn't in that house . . . well, maybe they all wrangled over who got Brekley's house.

  "Hurry up. We're late!" The priest glared over his shoulder, and marched along. The Joker limped after him.

  Limping? What the hell happened here? Did someone poach a god? Has there already been a rebellion? And the rebels lost? Pity.

  Once they were out of sight Warric slipped out of the bushes and hustled the other direction.

  Cactus caught up to him. "That was the god that they wanted me to . . . "

  Kevi joined them. "Yeah, when I stunned all those priests, he grabbed a knife and killed the old one. Then he screamed, like he was hurt."

  Warric nodded. "There's a bond. They call it a hook. And if it's strong enough it can pull the god into the priest's death. And the other way around as well. The god can take the priest with him, when he dies. So the priests try for the lightest hook that will ensure their control of the god. Because they use us up."

  They followed him along the shaded walking path . . . the stretch along the wall of the Little Gods' area was the most exposed.

  "Just walk. Stride out like you've been sent on an errand and they expect you to be prompt about it." Kevi stepped out and started walking.

  Warric watched, then looked over at Trill and Cactus. "You two together. The women tend to . . . not like to be caught alone."

  He watched until Kevi turned at the corner and disappeared behind bushes. Then he stepped out briskly. A single glance behind showed Marius and Trace following.

  Then the landscaping returned to bushes and he hustled to where the others were peering through the greenery, around a corner at the next stretch.

  At the orangey red robes of the ordinary priests.

  "What are they doing here? I thought you said these were the women's quarters?" Trill frowned at the priests walking through a door into a stubby plain building.

  "I . . . think that's, umm, what that is . . . "

  Warric eyed Cactus's stiff posture.

  She swallowed. "They . . . there were four priests, and then the senior priest brought the god . . . "

  Warric bit his lip. "This might be the perfect place to test our spray. And if we could eliminate one of the major gods and a bevvy of red robes . . . Kevi, get out the sprayers."

  They all put on the nasty "latex" gloves the smugglers had brought. Hoods and collars up, in case of mist drifting about. It would be enough to avoid a major drop in magic. They pumped up both sprayers, distributed squirt guns. And just in case the potion didn't work, swords and crossbows.

  Warric shrugged on one backpack sprayer. "Let's go."

  Kevi slipped up to the door, bent over the lock . . . turned the knob and peeked through a crack. Then he opened the door and walked in. Warric growled and hustled after him. Into a short corridor that ended at a cross corridor. Kevi was peeking cautiously both directions.

  Warric joined him. Empty. What looked like a labyrinth both directions.

  Cactus slid up beside him, her voice a bare breath. "They brought me in, somewhere left of here."

  Warric caught Kevi's eye. Pointed at him and right. Pointed at himself and left.

  Kevi nodded and headed right.

  Warric raised the wand of the sprayer and turned left. Hurrying, and a feeling of . . . of . . .urgency. Very nearly panic. He broke into a run. Footsteps around a corner.

  A red robe. Deep red. Ermine trim.

  Warric was spraying before he even consciously registered the rest of the men.

  Then he kicked the Temple Priest out of the way and kept spraying. Choked faintly at the sight of the odd platy face, and reaching insectile claws of the God of Fear. Sprayed lots, especially on the old red robes.

  Then he sprayed the initiates following them.

  Turned at a scream. The God of Fear had his Priest by the neck. The scream choked off and blood flowed around the sharp claws.

  Beyond them, Trace was applying his club to heads. Good idea. Warric dropped his shields and started stunning the initiates, the priests . . . he hesitated, looking at the god.

  "Can you control yourself? Or are you completely insane?"

  The insectile god uncurled and leaped at him. Crashed to the ground as the stun spell hit. Running feet from behind Marius.

  It was the girls, breathless.

  Cactus took in the limp red robes . . . "We got five priests and some guards down there . . . but there's women all over, and three of them are having babies. Right. Now."

  Trill nodded. "We left Kevi there, because he's delivered foals and calves and lambs."

  Cactus nodded. "Better a man who knows what he's doing than two women who don't!" She held out the sticks Kevi had attached the bubble to. "He said we were more likely to need this than he would."

  Trace barked a laugh. "Right. So let's go beat up more guards and priests before they do something bad to Lord Menchuro."

  The rest of the building was nearly empty. They left three guards stunned, and two initiates stunned and sprayed.

  Time to storm the courthouse.

  "First we have to get past the guards' barracks." Warric bit his lip. "They aren't magic. We could use the unnoticeable spell, there. But the closer we get to all those priests, the more closed up we need to be. So let's sneak past the barracks and be prepared to take out the side door guards the old-fashioned way."

  "Side door?" Trace raised his eyebrows.

  "Oh sure. Can't have the servants trooping through the grand entrance with their m
ops and buckets, after all. And if we weren't ordered to be on public display, Brekley liked to watch the proceedings from the high boxes."

  "So you know how to get to them." Cactus grinned. "So where do I find a mop and bucket?"

  ***

  "What are you doing here?" The guard advanced on Trace and Marius. A second guard left his post and walked out as well.

  Trace looked around with a scowl. "The priest said to move it, so we're moving it."

  "Moving what?" The two guards walked into the perfect position.

  "Look for yourself." Trace and Marius pulled back the flap, and as the guards leaned to look, tossed it over their heads.

  Warric bolted out and tapped their heads. Just enough to drop them woozily to their knees. He pulled out the control potion and forced a dose down each of them.

  "You will unlock the door. Then you will remain standing on guard until one of us orders you to do something else."

  They blinked at him and staggered to the door, bumping and interfering with each other until they got the door unlocked.

  Trill and Cactus had the big sprayers now, the guys had their swords in hand and the crossbows across their backs.

  Warric led them up the narrow stairs and along the hall to the three boxes on this side. All empty. Brekley had used one in the early days. Before he was sure enough of his control over Warric to display him in public with the rest.

  He eased into the last one and peeked over the edge.

  The Exalted, red robes so dark they were nearly black, sat in judgment high on the podium.

  His father knelt, gray head bowed.

  Temple Priest Harold Notcher and Senior Priest Justin Collier bracketed him.

  Oh yes, I remember Notcher well. The Exalted's enforcer. Used mainly against any priests who dared to challenge the hierarchy. He used to watch Brekley, thinking—quite rightly—that his hook was too weak.

  And Collier, next in line for a major god. He was with the group hunting me down.

  And now they're after a scapegoat.

  The rest of the courtroom was full, a sea of red robes, gods . . . eight of them stood against the wall opposite.

  The rest must be right below us, along this wall. Arbol knows I did that often enough when the Exalted wanted all his Gods on display.

  He eased back into the hall. "Trace and Trill here. When we start spraying from the first box on the far side, you soak everyone below, starting with the fat guy pretending he's a judge. And then spray below the box and along this wall."

  "Trace, keep her safe. And kill anyone trying to kill Lord Menchuro."

  Two solemn nods. The hall led further back, and as he hoped, turned to connect up to the hallway on the far side. Three boxes. Empty, empty . . . He lunged and ran a red robe through. Kicked another. Marius stabbed a third.

  "Spray, fast. Now!" Warric grabbed his brother. "Stay with Cactus, get her out of here when that starts looking like a good idea."

  "Where are you going?"

  "To get Dad."

  ***

  Warric galloped down the stairs on this side. He knew there were side doors inside the courtroom, but had never seen them from the other side. He dared not slow to search.

  Am I insane? There were easily four or five hundred priests and initiates in there. The spray? We'll be lucky if we get half of them. I need a distraction . . . and the obvious one will be more dangerous than the priests.

  Shields. Mental shields and the chemical protection spell are the most important. Gloves still on, collar up, hood up.

  At the base of the stairs, a door on either side. Right would be outside. Left into the entry of the courtroom.

  Warric pulled in power and triggered the God of the Sun Illusion. Arbol only knew what it looked like with the coat and hood. He turned left and stepped through the door.

  Stunned the two nearest guards and rushed the others. Tossed a fireball, and suddenly the guards were running away.

  He peeked through the double doors.

  The red robes were all standing looking up at the box. A faint mist in the air. Further forward, Trill was using the full stream on her sprayer and those priests were turning and starting to search for the unexpected indoor rain.

  Warric stepped in and stunned a semi circle around the entrance.

  Pity it's so short range.

  He pulled up the more complex spell, the antithesis of the Chain. "Control the Gods." He threw it hard to his right, hard to his left . . .

  His brief moment of initiative ended.

  A hundred priests saw suddenly uncontrolled gods. Their doorway to instant power. They rushed them.

  Throwing hooks . . . to his left they'd been within reach of Cactus's spray. A drifting mist . . . One god's former priest was waving his hands in vain. No hook, no Chain. And now hands around his throat.

  The other priests were trying as well. The leaders of the rush stalled as nothing happened, the initiates behind them crashed into them, shoved them. The God of the Arts grinned and pounced.

  To the left, the God of Jokes screamed and started punching.

  Warric swung his sword and cropped a couple of heads and the priests shrank back. His mental shield creaked under the continuous assault.

  Warric spun left. Sword in hand and took the head of the closest priest. Stabbed the man to his right and headed down the center aisle. Men fell, clutching at bolts, or stunned. Screams behind him . . .

  Warric spun, killed another priest and spotted the God of Demons. Red of skin, redder from the blood he was gleefully spilling. More struggles along both walls. Warric turned back and slashed his way forward.

  Threw the Anti-Chain spell twice more. And stun.

  Then he spotted his dad. A knife in each hand, back against the wall of the judges bench. Two priests dead at his feet, Notcher hovering out of weapon range, face distorted in rage.

  Lord Menchuro's gaze was sweeping the room, but stalled out on the God of Storms.

  The priests were all retreating as that god advanced. Lightning overhead, and now leaping from hand to hand.

  Warric stepped out to face him. Storm stopped and eyed Warric.

  Right, got my illusions on.

  Warric slid his long sword across the floor to his dad, and drew his squirt gun. Met the eyes of the other god.

  Raised his gun and soaked the red robe behind him.

  Threw the Anti-Chain spell. "Control the Gods."

  Lightning flashed up, hit the ceiling. The god spun, lightning crashed and priests fled, some with flaming robes. More lay still on the floor.

  The storm god staggered hands to his head, staring around for his next victim.

  Warric stepped in front of his father. "Not him." A flick of movement in the corner of his eye, dark red. The Exalted was fleeing.

  Warric pointed. "He, on the other hand, is all yours."

  The god leaped in pursuit.

  Warric looked the other way. Notcher was backing away, hands gesturing. Warric could feel the pressure on his shields.

  He raised the squirt gun, but Notcher dived behind the God of Drunks, and through a door.

  "Dad? We've got to get you out of here. Because, well, I'm leading a revolt."

  Lord Menchuro managed a weak smile. "You . . . always were a firebrand."

  Warric stifled a giggle as he scanned the room. Bit of ceiling, half flaming, were falling from above. The priests were running away—in various directions—or milling in confusion.

  On the nearest balcony, Trill was hanging over the edge and looking for someone to spray. Trace was climbing over the railing, and Warric could see the shimmer of a shield across the back of the box.

  Twenty feet down.

  Trill tossed the sprayer over the side, a crossbow and something else . . . the bag with all the potions! And as Trace hung there, she climbed over and down him hanging off his foot . . .

  Warric threw himself at the panicked crowd trying to get out a side door . . . or maybe capture the God of Drunks who was i
n his way.

  Warric kicked the fat god. Shoved him forward as Trill dropped . . . She hit the staggering drunk's shoulders and flattened him.

  Warric grabbed her and whipped her around him and toward his dad. Turned back in time to see Trace hit the god as he tried to rise.

  The Anti-Chain spell . . . then Warric shoved over to the sprayer, the crossbow, the bag and back to the middle aisle.

  :: Marius? ::

  :: We saw. We're leaving . . . carefully. ::

  :: I'll get Dad out the main gate . . . ::

  A sudden intrusion from Kevi. :: There's a side door to an alley over here in the women's territory. We've got it under control. ::

  :: We? ::

  :: All the women. All the women. What they did to the priests here wasn't pretty. We'll keep control here. Mind you it would help if they'd stop having contractions . . . ::

  Warric dodged flaming debris. :: If we can't get to the front gate, we'll join you. ::

  Trace reached for the crossbow, and headed for the nearest side door. A hallway, a door to the outside was right there and Trace stepped out, jumped back, hand going to his chest . . .

  Warric leaped forward, spray wand out and spraying . . . a priest wiped his face . . . more red robes pressed forward . . . and got sprayed.

  Not very well.

  Trill took the sprayer from him and started pumping up the pressure.

  "A woman!"

  "Abomination!"

  "Kill her!" A priest went down, a crossbow bolt in his throat.

  Trace growled. "Was that that hook you talked about? It was like he'd reached through my stomach and grabbed my backbone."

  "Yep. Nasty thing that."

  Trace raised his bow and shot a fleeing priest in the back.

  They were in a narrow space, between the wall of the courtroom and the outer wall of the Temple grounds. Full of red and yellow robes.

  Trill raised the wand and started spraying. Warric threw stun spells . . . nothing happened. Too much drifting potion. Damn.

  Warric stood on his toes, which put him easily a head above the fleeing crowd. No sign of Marius or Cactus. But while the priests were fleeing, there were guards heading their direction. "Trace, let the priests get away, when the guards get closer, stun them!"