Wine of the Gods 03: The Black Goats (33 page)

Dydit grumpily bid them both a good night and sought his bed. Fortunately it worked the right way. Never bid Lefty a good night and withdrew. While Lefty poked at their fire a bit, he squinted over at Never and could see the faint glow of a shield. Good. Keep Lefty out.

In the morning they all set out together. To Dydit's disgust both Never and Lefty preferred to walk. And they were both good walkers, having no trouble keeping a bit ahead of the wagon.

Which gave him a nice view of Never's long bare legs under the barely calf length canvas skirt she was wearing. And the flex of her buttocks, and sway of her hips and narrow waist. At the edge of the next Old Land she at least put on shoes. Nice, practical, thick soled, laced to her calves, leather boots.

Dydit found himself even more fixated on the glimpses of skin between boot and skirt.

It was infuriating. There was no way he was going to try anything with a witch. He had more sense than that. Oh, sure, he'd given in once, but that was when he was a goat. Now he was a man and had more sense.
Way
more sense. After all, he was a wizard. Cold blooded and practical. He'd castrated himself when he was ten years old. For power. He wasn't going to get involved with a witch that could take it all away. Lefty could have her. It didn't matter to him.

Three days later, Dydit was still arguing with himself about how much he did not care that Never was still walking with Lefty.

Then they were suddenly walking backwards, as a battle spilled over the ridge they had been climbing.

A wagon careened over the crest, then stopped abruptly as the driver spotted them. The confusion milling around it overshot the wagon, and the driver pulled the horses around to try and escape. The attackers split, some turning to the new wagon, as the old rattled back out of sight.

Never made some helpless waves of her obviously weaponless hands, turning to flee as two grinning bandits leapt from their horses, grabbed her, and promptly collapsed. Lefty was dealing with two, as Dydit pulled the brake, tied the reins and hopped down, sword in hand.

Never had grabbed a sword, and was holding it correctly, but her foot tapped a rock the size of her head and it rolled uphill, gaining speed and leaping up to hit the nearest horse in the flanks. A smaller rock managed a greater speed and higher bounce, off the rider's head, this time.

Dydit heard more horses coming, multiple, and realized that the sword just wasn't going to work. He stripped off his shirt, unbuckled his belt and wiggled halfway out before opening the goat box.

"What the . . . Aiii! " The first man he hit somersaulted over him and hit at a bad angle. Broken neck for that one. Dydit winced, the Wizard King had told him not to kill. He slashed a hamstring of the man facing Lefty, then charged the pair that were trying to get near Never. The first man he butted landed face first in front of her. Her bare foot shot out and he collapsed, drained. Dydit spun on the other, dodging a sword thrust before the man suddenly folded up and started snoring.

The horses he'd heard crested the ridge and galloped down. Three lightly armored riders with swords.

They took aim at Lefty, ignoring the girl and the goat. He charged at the nearest horse. He was big enough that the unexpected impact from the side staggered the horse into the one beside it. As the riders cussed and tried to get their charge back together, Lefty bolted around the wagon, forcing the riders to turn and try to chase him down. Never's first arrow took a rider in the throat, her second though the chest, low
, to miss the chain mail coif.

The third bandit, veered off and galloped back over the hill. Dydit galloped after him and stopped on the ridge.

Five dismounted bandits were closing around the wagon, the woman driving was jerking at the reins, but one of the bandits was at the horses' heads, and they were going nowhere. Two men, one to either side of the wagon, were keeping the bandits cautious.

The galloping rider yelled at them waving back at the ridge.

One of the loose horses, horribly lamed, hamstrung, tried to veer, to intercept the charge as the rider used his mount as a battering ram, to run over the man on this side on the wagon. The rider's horse swerved enough for the rapier wielding man to leap aside, then thrust.

Never stood up, and started placing arrows, hitting first the men on the far side, and then the man holding the horses. Her third shot missed, as the man threw himself behind the horses.

The two on this side tried ducking behind lose horses, and the rapier man took them both down.

The woman driver, swerved her horses toward the last bandit and whipped them up. The defender on that side lunged and slashed the bandit's throat as he dodged the horses

Dydit looked over the scene, then Never nudged him in the ribs. "Go back to the wagon, and put your . . . clothes on."

"Maaah!" He trotted away, changing back as soon as he was off the ridge. Maybe Never would admire his legs.

He drove the wagon over the ridge, to find his companions watching the rapier man with some bemusement.

"So now, Oh most noble of beasts,

Companion on my long dark journey,

With grief I must send you to that reward

Which awaits all mortal creatures."

Dydit realized that the man was carrying on about his hamstrung horse. He eyed the animal. Even lame it had attempted to protect its rider. The gelding was a flashing copper gold chestnut, tall and elegant, with a fine head. He climbed down from the wagon and walked around the horse. There was no doubt about it. The gelding was easily the best horse he'd ever laid eyes on. Never was stroking its hindquarters,
stunning the muscles to make them relax, and pulling on the tendon. He doubted she would be able to get it back together, although witches were well known for healing. But he knew what would work. In fact he wasn't at all certain that it wouldn't bring back the dead.

He fetched the wine and a cork screw.

"Through good times and bad,

you have stood by me. Loyalty

Is your finest attribute.

"Lifelong have you served . . .

"What are you doing?" The man broke off as Dydit poured a handful of wine for the animal. It wasn't very interested, shivering now. Then its nostrils quivered and something in the scent attracted it. It took a slurp and curled its lip back. And sucked down about a cup's worth as he slowly poured it into his hand.

"Damn, that did the trick." Never put the horse's leg down, and it put its weight on it cautiously. Snorted and tossed its head. Danced over and shoved
its head into the man's chest.

The Rapier Man dropped his hat and ran his hand down the horse's leg. Tears were running down his face as he hugged the horse, Never, and even Dydit.

Then he hugged Lefty, his fellow swordsman, and the woman he'd been fighting to save. He wiped his cheeks. "My faithful steed is miraculously healed. My thanks for your intervention, and your magic. May we have the honor of knowing to whom we are indebted?"

"I'm, umm, Dydit Twicecutt, this is Never Happysdaut, and err, Lefty, what the hell is your name?"

"Carwell Lebonift."

Of course. Veronian, himself, as were the young couple, all three of them the various tawny shades of the border country.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Sir Romeau Ayrees and my companions are Lord Jelesterfair and Lady Lalligah.

"Pleased to meet you." Never told them. "What in the World are you doing out here?"

"We thought we were escaping," the lady blinked away tears. "But obviously my father has discovered which way we went."

"Young love will not be denied.

How can such devotion,

be eclipsed by mere statecraft?"

"So, Sir Romeau." Dydit pursed his lips, "Are you perhaps a poet?" With a sudden sinking feeling, he squinted sideways at him. Glowing shimmering, a rainbow of soft colors.

"A poet and a lover. Risking all to help these two love crossed . . . "

"Noooo! Not another one."

Never squinted at the man. "Oh. My."

Dydit glanced over at Lefty, suddenly aware of his long silence. He was staring at the woman.

Dydit waved his hand in front of Lefty's face. "Hello? Anyone home?"

Lefty started, and then choked, "You're the Princess. Lalligah. You can't elope," he waved his hands vaguely. "You're the Emperor's only child."

"Not any more. Empress Stepmother has a baby boy, so
I can marry whomever I wish." She tossed her head, pale blonde hair flying, "I don't care what they say about the goat."

Lefty and Never both looked at Dydit.

"Did. Not."

"Good. In any case, we had a bit of trouble with about fifty men, back there. They're guarding the new route to Western."

"Damn." Lord Fair hugged his princess, looking worried. "We may have to head for Scoone."

Lefty and Dydit were both shaking their heads. "You don't want to do that."

Never hesitated, and then surrendered to temptation. "Umm, what exactly is the problem with the . . . goat?"

The Princess hid her face in her hands. "Did you hear about the orgy? No? Good. I was afraid the whole world was laughing at my father."

"He, umm, did something to a goat?"

"No. He, he and my stepmother. In full sight of over a hundred nobles, incidentally, conceived my baby half-brother. There was a goat in the room, apparently, hmm, quite nasty, but it didn't do anything to my stepmother." she heaved an irritated sigh. "But the Scooners are just apoplectic over it. They say it
looked
at my parents while they were, err, and therefore the child is evil and ought to be burned at the stake. They are threatening to
invade
over it."

"Ah," Dydit nodded, "But have they filled in all the paperwork? Held an election?"

She threw him a confused look and shrugged. "It wouldn't be so bad if it weren't for the Church of Love and the Six Virgins."

Dydit's eyes slid to the old god. "Church of Love. And you showed up soon after, no doubt?"

"I felt them calling me." Romeau replaced his hat, and swept the brim down at just the right rakish angle.

"The six virgins have immortalized
'Love' in the form of a goat, and swear that the Goat of Love sired their children." Lord Fair blushed. "Silly, I know."

Never turned red, trying to suppress a coughing fit.

"Ah, that definition of 'virgin.'" Lefty nodded, his lips were twitching as if he were having a hard time suppressing a smile.

Dydit figured he might as well give up and go back to herding sheep.

"Whatever happened to the eunuch, I wonder?" he muttered.

"Oh, he married Lady Godwin, they've got twins. I can't imagine why that woman always wears so much."

He opened his mouth to ask about hair color and eyes, then shut it. Just the possibility was bad enough.

They organized bodies, alive and dead, and to Dydit's disgust used the wine on several of the wounded bandit-mercenaries. At least they had sense enough to take all of their horses.

He himself cast a thoughtful eye on a horse ridden by a god, and claimed the three best mares among the mercenaries' mounts as his own part of the loot. The Veronians decided to follow them south, and try to get into Western that way. So they herded their new acquisitions south.

They took their time, stopping a bit early every night so Never could meditate and consider the shape of things below the ground. And contact her mother and pass along the news. Eventually they would receive orders back, as to what the King wanted them to do with the runaway princess. For now, Lefty was staying with them.

Dydit was surprised to find that he was apparently good company. His stories about Scoone and the Sheep Man were hysterically funny, in retrospect, and that was without exaggeration. As was his advice about how Verona ought to deal with the incipient war.

He had Lord Jelesterfair literally rolling on the floor as he invented all the forms they should have Scoone fill out before they could possibly be allowed to invade. "Impact of Army foraging across the countryside? Should be able to stretch that one out for eight pages at least."

"In triplicate?" his lordship giggled.

"Yes, and when it returns, ask for the vote totals on every point. Anything they failed to vote on, look shocked, and have them fill out a form for declaration of lack of need to poll the voters."

The Princess snickered. "You are so silly. I refuse to believe it's that bad."

"No, really it is." Dydit protested.

***

"What duties does a Princess have, In Verona?" Never asked the young woman.

She snorted, a very unladylike sound. "Look attractive, save one's virginity for a marriage of convenience to someone who will advance the interests of the Emperor, or the Council of Nobles." She shuddered. "They fight about it. About who gets the prize. Like you're not even a person. When I was three years old, they betrothed me to the son of the richest man in the world. He died before the marriage ever happened. They talked with Auralia, they talked with Scoone. And then they were negotiating with Western to be the Second Princess. I guess you know all about that. So suddenly they're going to settle for marrying me to this old man, an influential Duke, and
he
dies of old age before the negotiations were settled. When they started looking at the man's
son
I just couldn't stand it any longer." She got up and paced. "Jelesterfair and I, we met five years ago. I've never met anyone . . . he looked at me like a person. Not a negotiating ploy or a diplomatic treat. We, we could only see each other at dances, or formal dinners." She blushed. "I used to sneak to a window, and he'd sneak down an alley, and we could toss notes back and forth, we didn't dare yell to each other."