Wine of the Gods 08: Dark Lady (18 page)

Phantom walked down to a wide, well built road and turned south. Rustle looked around, and could see several other hills crowned with glowing circles. Jet leaped out of the gate behind them, with a snort of dislike, and trotted down to join them.

"Did you say something about eleven gates?" she asked, listening carefully, mentally. Nothing was screaming in her head, and she started relaxing.

"Yes. Four are located elsewhere. These seven haven't been much explored. A lot of them appear to have no people there at all. The
King is going to station a part of the Army here, in case there are people on the far side who are more interested in conquest than trade."

"
Like those Arbolians. So . . . these gates were recently found?"

"Recently made." The man
eyed her, worry line across his forehead. "When I said you were the most powerful magic user in the World, that was mostly based on you creating these."

She
froze, appalled. "Do you have any idea
how
I made them?"

"Yes. I helped with the first one you made. If, once you've healed, you still don't remember how you did it, I'll show you." He frowned down the road. "Good God! Did Harry move the tavern? Not that he
hasn't moved it before, but it has been in Ash for over eight hundred years. It's hard to think of Ash without it."

As they came closer, Rustle eyed it. It was smaller than the tavern in Jeramtown. High pitched roof; they must get a lot of snow here. Or perhaps wherever it was first located. Hmm. Moving entire buildings. "So . . . who is Harry?" Phantom stopped at the steps to the porch.

"The God of the Roads, the God of Travelers." He swung off Jet and held his hands up for the baby.

Do I want to meet another god? Do I want to offend him
, by avoiding him?
She pulled the sling over her head and handed Quail down to him. The baby blinked sleepily, but didn't cry. Rustle slipped off Phantom and followed Wolf.

"Ah." He stopped right inside he door. "I don't know if this is good or bad timing." He walked forward again. "Never, Dydit. I've found Rustle, and she is having some shielding and memory problems so please don't . . . "

Whatever the Wolf was going to say, was lost. The gorgeous blonde woman, and the tall muscular man leapt past him and flung their arms around her. She stood rigidly trying to control . . . something. Some violent response. Thoughts pressed on her, pinpricks of worried probes. Their overlapping babble ground to an awkward halt.

"Rustle? What's wrong?" the blonde woman held her off at arms length.

Rustle stared. She didn't know this woman. Wished she would stop looking at her. Her attention grated over Rustle's brain, and tender bits were fast approaching painful.

"She has amnesia. Very close to total. Give her room, she needs peace and quiet to heal. She can't hold a shield, please try to not project."

The man that was supposed to be her father snapped around and glared at the Wolf. "What did you do?"

"Nothing. You know damn good and well what happened to her. She needs peace and
more time to heal."

Wolf, whatever he was to her, was at least quiet mentally. Her purported father was boiling over with angry mental power. Odd little ziggzaggy bright spots were wiggling at the edges of her vision, or maybe her brain.

Rustle shifted uneasily away from them. "Stop. Stop. Fuss over Quail, she likes it." Her head was starting to throb.

"I'll fuss over whomever . . . "

His frustrated anger and worry crashed through her brain in a blaze of pain.

"Come back here."

But she was in full flight and not about to stop.

Five miles away the spike through her temples eased, and she slowed Phantom. "Well, was that fun? I seem to be getting worse instead of better. Where can I go to get a year's worth of peace and quiet, without neglecting Quail, you, starving, freezing or whatever?"

"I was very powerful, in Arrival, simply because only a few Arbolians had power, too. Here I'm ordinary, and apparently very vulnerable." She rubbed her temples. "Am I going to have to run away again?"

She looked around at the sound of hooves.

"Rustle?"

It was the man again, her father, his mind so closed up she couldn't tell he was there.

"I apologize for hurting you. Will you please come back? I care about you, and didn't realize that I was worsening an injury."

"Where I've been for the last couple of months, there are so few magic users, I didn't hear a single mental voice. I didn't realize how sensitive I'd gotten, or how weak my shields still are. I am not at all sure that I can live here. At least not until I've completely recuperated. If I ever do. I . . . don't expect you to change because of me. I think I have to leave." She put her hands to her temples. "Don't do that."

He backed his horse away, or rather the god's horse.

"I hope you didn't hurt Wolf when you took his horse. I may not remember him, but at least he's been polite and mentally quiet."

"He threw me up here and told me to shut my bloody mental mouth before I killed you, and apologize if I didn't want to lose a daughter. Please, will you try to come home? You need to at least see Xen. I, umm, I'll go ahead and warn your sisters to keep their shields up."

She closed her eyes. "All right. I'll try."

"Thank you. Umm, can you come back to the tavern?"

"I'll start by trying that." She turned Phantom. "Sorry guy. Didn't mean to add ten miles to your day." He answered with a shift to a gentle rocking canter, and kept it up until the tavern was in sight. Then he dropped to a walk and cooled himself down over the last half mile.

"I'll do the horses, go on." Her father smiled wryly. "It sounds like Quicksilver is hungry."

The Wolf was on the front porch with the angry baby. The woman who was supposed to be her mother gave her a searching look, and Rustle flinched as it raked across her brain. The woman jerked back and closed her shields completely.

Rustle just took the baby and walked away. She carried her up the hill and stepped through the gate. Silence.

Mental silence.

The wind rustled the grass gently and a mockingbird was singing down by the stream.

She sat in the grass and
practiced some deep breathing for a few minutes, then adjusted her clothes and fed the baby.

"It ha
s been three weeks, little bird. Maybe I ought to have stayed longer. Added another month or two of healing before I tried to go home." She burped the baby, switched sides. "I wonder if the king's army has made it to Jeramtown. Do you suppose the king came himself?"

Spring, 1376 PE

Ash, Comet Fall

Soft foot steps
behind December—Rustle!—and the man who claimed to be nearly her husband sat down a few feet away. He had the baby changing bag with him.

"
Please tell me that I'm not expected to live within five miles of either of them."

"I didn't realize how loud they we
re. Nor how raw you still are. I think that god must have reinjured your shields."

"The p
riest, actually. I couldn't keep him out. Are you always this quiet, then?"

"
Yes. I learned to hide a long time ago, and to appreciate quiet." He rested his chin on his hands. "My house is in a naturally quiet place. You've never lived there. Why don't I fix up a room for you? You can have as much or as little company as you wish, I can help take care of Quail or take her to your parent's house and they can babysit. Xen is staying with them at the moment, I'll work with him on being quiet, so you two can see each other, but you can mostly just rest."

She nodded.
"I think I was happier with just a blank in my mind, and no idea of how many people would try and crowd into it."

He nodded, barely visible in the dark.
"Will you come back to the tavern? It's the abode of a god, and as such it's easy to recognize and use for traveling large distances."

"
Third time is enemy action." She climbed to her feet and stepped back through the gate.

From a hundred feet away she could feel the man and woman worrying. It stopped abruptly, and she looked up at the big man.

"You can't shield me forever."

"
Just long enough for you to get a good recognition, so you can come back any time you need to. Here. Right in front to the front doors, barely off the road. Can you feel it, or is that something you can't try yet?"

"
I've been making corridors. Yes, I see how this location stands out. I don't know anything about traveling, otherwise."

"Teleportation, if you're feeling scientific."
He touched her shoulder, and they were abruptly elsewhere. A porch of warm wood, looking over a slope down to a creek. To the left three immense trees rose into the night. She could hear the crickets chirping, and felt the man's extended shield fade.

"
It's very quiet." She could feel her tension unwinding.

"
It has always been like this, even when twice as many people lived in the Valley." The man turned and walked inside, and she followed, inhaling the fruity aroma as she wandered through the winery, into a sitting room, with three other doors. The open one led to a bedroom. "Kitchen there," he pointed left, and opened the third door. A library, with a desk, a comfortable chair with its back to a high window and one, no, two other doors. One was not easy to see, either physically or mentally. The other led to a room stuffed with even more books. Wolf eased past the tall shelves, and opened the door at the far end. A dusty room, with a sturdy table, windows and a door to the outside. Also full of books.

"
It would be quiet and private, back here. Do you want it?"

She
opened the door. Peeping of frogs, a faint sulfur smell of a hot spring bringing a sudden feeling of belonging.

"
Yes."

"
There's a hammock around the corner. Relax, and I'll move some books."

She eyed all the books.

"Oh, I'll scoop them into a bubble, and sort them out later."

She chuckled and sought out the hammock.

The morning light woke her, and she startled guiltily, nearly tipping herself out of the hammock. But Quail was sleeping peacefully right where she'd laid her before stretching out in the hammock. She herself had acquired a blanket. It was peaceful and still, and she ignored her complaining stomach to enjoy the sensation of quiet all around.

When Quail stirred, she slaughtered the quiet with accusations of starvation.
December . . . Rustle . . . fed her quickly, and then sought the indoors and dry diapers. The room had changed overnight, and was now spotlessly clean with a thick mattress directly on the stone floor, and coverings that teased her mind with familiarity, shelves, a dresser, a cradle and a table the perfect height for changing babies, piled with clean diapers, clean baby clothes and a jug of warm water and her saddle bags.

Clean and dry, Quail nursed again, and then searched the room with curious eyes.

"Let's go see if the Wolf's kitchen is ordinary or magic." December, Rustle, suggested.

Spring, 1376 PE

Ash, Comet Fall

The kitchen certainly looked m
agic.

It also contained the Wolf and a boy.

She pulled her eyes away from the glowing stick-figure numbers on what might be a stove, and took a deep breath.
Next problem
.

The boy
shook his head. "I'm being really quiet, I won't be a problem."

He had shaggy brown hair in need of a haircut, deep dark blue eyes, and seemed a bit undersized for six.

"Almost seven. Just four more months." He craned his neck and she lowered Quail.

"
Wow, she grew a whole bunch." He hopped up and leaned on her while reaching out to let the baby grab his finger.

She sat down and the Wolf slid a plate of pastries her direction.
"I brought the horses and your parents back. They promised to ask before visiting and to not check on you mentally. They are trying very hard to behave."

"
Gramps is upset and yelling." Xen said. "Gram is upset and having a quiet upset tummy. Dad told them off and threatened to strand them somewhere far away if they didn't learn some basic mental discipline. Gramps went off to be a goat for awhile."

"
Umm." She snagged a cheese pastry, still warm, and savored the rich buttery taste.

The Wolf chuckled.
"Does 'the Black Goats of Scoone' bring back any memories?"

She
nodded. "I remember both a myth and that it was recent, and the goats were really nasty."

"
Eight wizards who rebelled against the Tyrant Wizard got turned into these really nasty goats. Dydit was actually just a young apprentice, none-the-less he spent about eight hundred years as a goat, and when he's really upset he deals with it by reverting."

She
frowned. "I threw a couple of transformation spells at that god. A goat one, and a dragon spell." She licked her fingers and eyed a donut.

"
Really? I'd figured Nil was the only one that knew them."

Xen giggled.
"I can see the goat spell when Gramps changes. It's very fancy." He looked at December . . . Rustle. "Can I change into a dragon? That would be
fun
."

"
I think you need to be a bit older." She frowned. "Although I really don't know how fast your magical ability is growing . . . do I know a lot of dragons?"

Wolf nodded.
"All thirteen of them. Although there may be more around now, the girls grew up pretty fast."

"
Umm. Hmm. If I don't remember pretty soon, I may start wanting some stories."

"
Can I hear them too?" Xen was all bright-eyed, and not a single leaking thought.

"
I don't suppose you could teach your grandparents how to shield like that, could you? You are very good at it." She munched the donut, and accepted a cup of hot cocoa.

He flashed her a smug grin.
"Nobody calls me slow any more."

"
Did they used to? Me?"

"
Nope, you're my Mommy. You even let me have three puppies."

"
Hmm, thus elevating myself into parental paragon."

"
Yep." He leaned over Quail and kissed her. "I have to go to school now."

"
All right. See you later."

He ran out
, leaving her blinking.

"
Can I possibly be responsible for a kid that nice? And how far away is school?"

The Auld Wulf chuckled.
"You are, and perhaps a mile. He has a horse, one of the special ones, a two year old gelding that takes him everywhere."

He pointed.
"There's a very posh bathroom over there, if you want me to take Quail for awhile."

She wondered if the bathroom would be as baffling as this kitchen, and handed the baby over to him.

It was pretty straightforward, Jeram style with the toilet right there, by the huge bath tub. Two knobs for the single spigot—one for hot water and one for cold. Handy. She luxuriated in water at just the right temperature, wonderful soap, marvelous shampoo, big fluffy towels, a warm robe. She checked the mirror. Uneven hair, but her ear looked . . . not too bad. Pale and untanned. A bit small, yet. She found scissors in a drawer and roughly evened up the hair on the other side. Fluffed it enough to make her uneven ears less noticeable.

Just as well I'm too confused to be feeling romantic. I'm definitely not at my best, just now.

A search of the furniture in her room produced clothing her size, in the same style as those she'd found in her saddlebags.

She changed into a light shift and heavier outer gown, and went in search of the Wolf.

Wolf
walked into the sitting room, empty handed, about the same time she got there. "Can you handle Dydit, briefly?"

"
Morning inspection?" She was too relaxed to even resent an over-anxious parent. "My family. . . Perhaps he can keep his shield up?"

"
I've talked to him about it. He opens it a crack, I'm going to swat him. Hard. Your whole family is very powerful. And well trained. They've gotten sloppy, but they're tightening up fast." He strolled out the door, and she followed.

Apparently Dydit was nearby.
She patted her side, no sword.
I don't need to carry a sword. The war's over. And I'm going to meet my father, not an enemy.

He was walking in the vineyard, Quail in his arms. She could see a pretty chestnut mare tied to a big tree where the small valley they were in opened up onto a grassy slope.
The mare neighed and stomped about unhappily, and the reason zipped by at a gallop. An angular foal, not very old. The mare stomped and called as it whipped out of sight.

"
I should have kept your Phantom." Dydit said. "I bred mares last year, until I ran out, and now I don't have any I can ride. That one was an accident. Really, I had no idea that old dun hulk of Harry's was a stallion. I don't ever remember much in the way of foals around here, til Nil went crazy. He thinks the old fellow must gotten some wine."

The Auld Wulf snorted.
"Puberty is an evil trick to play on a horse that old." They all walked down to watch the bounding filly.

"
She's a month old, and I thought Sunny could use an outing." Dydit shrugged.

"
She's cute. Look at the stripes down her back and across her withers." Rustle said. "Call it a lucky accident."

"
Ha! You haven't seen the wreck that sired her."

Rustle
frowned. "Wasn't there an old dun horse, big friendly thing? He used to hang around when I read things out loud. I used to do it all the time, because it was so funny to see a horse listening to magic lessons."

Dydit sighed.
"Serves me right. You remembered Harry's cart horse before you remember me."

The Auld Wulf was frowning at something.
"At least she ought to have a good disposition. That old dun has got to be the easiest going horse I've ever known. All Harry's orphans ride him and drive him."

Dydit snorted and jiggled Quail.
"Would you like a nice horsie?"

"
She's a little young." Rustle pointed out.

"
None-the-less, she now has a horse."

The Auld Wulf chuckled.
"Good thing Nil keeps most of the horses over at his place. All of the mares, I think."

Dydit studied the branches overhead, then grinned.
"Well, you know Nil, never paid a stud fee yet. When Gre came back with a tale about something happening to Sunny when she was tied up to this tree, we figured that must be what Rustle did, to get Phantom."

The Wolf nodded.
"Exactly. But I, umm, fixed that hole."

"
Yeah. Well, Nil got all excited, grabbed three of his best mares, gave them each a slug of that wine, and hauled them up here. Waited and didn't see a stallion. Walked away, in case the horse would only come when no one was around. Came back and found that old flea bag giving the best mare his best try. Of course they all three took."

The god laughed.
"Oh, serves him right. I'll just have to ride Jet down and comment on his foals." He grinned at December . . . Rustle. "Nil has started a local tradition of sneaking breedings to good stallions. He considers your acquisition of Phantom to be an absolute coup, even though it really was an accident."

Dydit had his shields completely and well under control, and
December . . . Rustle relaxed. They kept the conversation on horses, with only a few "Do you remembers." And she almost did remember a tall dun mare, apparently Sunny's dam. The much mentioned Sun Gold was Sunny's sire.

She blanked though
, on Rusty Junk, who was apparently Phantom's dam.

"
I haven't the faintest idea where she is," Dydit said.

"
She's in Jet's bubble. I was keeping her safe from the comet, and Jet likes the company." The Auld Wulf said. "Whenever you want her, Rustle, she is, umm, subjectively about five years old, and probably in foal again."

"
If you don't mind, leave her there until I can, until I have someplace. Or at least until my head doesn't hurt every time I'm near people. No, err, father, you're doing fine today."

Reminded, he took his leave shortly after, taking frantic Sunny and her foal home.

"You were thinking of something." December . . . Rustle studied the Auld Wulf.

"
Harry's old dun. That horse has been around just about forever. It kind of wandered in one day, and just stuck around eating grass. It never tried to eat my vines, so I just ignored him. When Harry moved the tavern here, he put him to work every once in a while, hauling firewood and manure. The horse looked ancient then, umm, almost nine hundred years ago."

"
Nine … hundred?"

"
Yes, that's about the time I gave up on influencing Scoone, and shifted everything here. I still popped back to see what Harry and Gisele were up to, to try and help her grandson in that poisonous . . . anyway, they finally gave up too and came out here. About thirty years later Nil walked in with his sheep and goats. I don't know why it has never occurred to us that the horse has been around forever. I think I shall have to buy those three other foals."

"Going into horse breeding?"
December . . . Rustle glanced at the vineyard. It looked quite lush, and a bit wild.

"
Well, yes, I've a bit of catching up to do. But a few extra horses around might be handy. Would you like to take a look at the valley? It has been your home for most of your life."

She followed him out of the little valley and then over to a grassy hill with a wide outlook. Ash was all pinks and greens and blues with white trim,
or white with colored trim. It was a colorful little village sprawling along a road that ran out of sight to her left and right. There were two cross streets, one that ran out to a mill on the river on the far side of the village. She sat in the tall grass and listened.

"
That empty corner there is where the tavern used to be. It was facing the main road, with the stables on this side. Harry even took the stables and courtyard with him." The god sat back and studied the village. "Do you see that big barn? That was the Mage farmers' grange barn. There are four corridors and a gate anchored on the sides of it. All the mages, even their wives and children, walked through the gate, saying they weren't coming back. They invited the witches to come, and told the gods to stay away. The Mount Frost Pyramid split. There were already some defections—you and the Rip Crossing witches were the most notable. Trump, we used to call her Tromp, is living in Karista, and her old buddies Cost and Zenith joined her there.

"
There's maybe half as many witches here now as five months ago."

"
It must seem empty. What about the Wizards?"

"
They are still here, but they have talked about moving the Wizard school to another World."

She yawned, and Quail started fussing.

"She's been awake all morning." The Auld Wulf pulled December . . . Rustle to her feet. "She has a right to be tired." They strolled back to the winery, through the rather neglected looking vineyard.

"I spent most of the spring either sleeping or looking for you. I have a lot of pruning and training to catch up on."

"So . . . you strained yourself enough to need to sleep for a year?"

"We all did. We're all having trouble staying alert, helping when we're needed. We were down south, under the comet's strike zone. Breaking off pieces of the comet, shoving them. Then you started playing with the gravity, slowed the whole, whipped the pieces completely away from the world . . . Then we were too tired to completely clean up the last pieces . . . had to fight the fires. Romeau and Logic traveled the wizards around, trying to stop huge firestorms . . . "