Wine of the Gods 08: Dark Lady (28 page)

But in the end it all came down to a few simple sentences.

"Do you, Elizabeth, under the eyes of our Lord God, take Kurt to be your
husband?"

"I do."

"Do you, Kurt, under the eyes of our Lord God, take Elizabeth to be your wife?"

"I do."

"Then by the powers granted to me by the Grace of God, I pronounce you husband and wife."

Kurt didn’t need any prompting. He swept her off her feet and kissed her enthusiastically, and at length.

Summer 1377

Crossroads, Kingdom of the West

"God of War!"

It wasn't the usual summons, it was someone well known,
to a well known place, a call he could control, to a point. Arrive on foot, not on horseback . . .

Two old men, wrestling about, rathe
r ineffectually. He sheathed the sword before he pounced and pried the old men apart.

"
You all right, Harry?" The God of War looked at him worriedly. "First time I've seen you have trouble. . . " he trailed off as he eyed the old man he was dangling in his hand. Turned him around and started grinning. "Charlie! Good god, what are you doing still alive? How did you get
here
?"

"
I'm only a couple of years older than you, punk. Harry's one of
them
, and I'm finally going to kick his miserable ass. Put me down!"

Harry gawped.
"I am not . . . " he trailed off looking puzzled.

"
Only if you wait to start the fight until I've fetched a proper referee."

"
I don't need a referee to kick ass."

"
Oh, you've grown into a feisty old man." He looked over his shoulder and spotted the pair of upset youngsters. "Keep him under control for just a few minutes."

He put Char
lie down—not very far down—and felt the magic ebb. He reappeared, in his comfortable working clothes, in the vineyard. He stuck his head in the door of the winery. "I believe your Prince Kurt is at the tavern. I've got to go get Logic, see you there."

God's res
idences had a unique feel. Even with her only living there a few years, Logic's home was an easy step for him.

Fortunately she was at home, and didn't have to be tracked down at some library or lecture hall.
"What are you grinning about? You worry me when you are so gleeful."

"
Come to Harry's. We have a wonderful surprise for you."

She crossed her arms and looked stubborn.

"Oh, no. I'm not going to ruin the surprise."

She glared, but
when he extended his hand, she reached out and took it.

She braced her shoulders and walked in the door
of the tavern.

"
. . . can't believe Wolfgang is defending you! Have you no sha . . . " Charlie's eyes flicked to the sound of the door closing.

Wolf sauntered around the immobile woman, and kicked back in his usual seat.
"I think we can all sit down and relax now. In fact I ought to sell popcorn. Did you manage introductions before the strangling started? I'm . . . Wolfgang Oldham. Huh. I've had trouble remembering that name for centuries."

Xen bounced through the door then, Rustle on his heels, setting Quicksilver down to hug Liz.

"I really ought to have figured out how to attend your wedding. This is Xen, Quail Quicksilver's big brother. Now, what's going on?"

"
That is Kurt's Uncle Charlie. He took one look at this gentleman and tried to kill him." She shook hands properly with Xen. "Pleased to meet you, Lord Xen."

Xen grinned and bounced a bit on his toes.
"The pleasure is all mine, Princess Liz. This is Harry, he's the God of Travelers."

Harry sighed.
"As we are called, and Rustle says she explained, we aren't really gods. Charlie, and Wolf and I are old . . . acquaintances. And I have a sinking feeling he may be right."

Wolf scratched his
beard thoughtfully, then looked over at the immobile pair. "Hey Charlie. We all got our brains pierced, and then scrambled, and then the Collective Subconscious kicked us into what they thought we ought to be. How's your memory?" No response. "Well, perhaps we should check again later. Oy, Charlie! Handle with care, she's had problems of the Edmund Vice variety. He's on our kill on sight list. And wisely hasn't been seen for a couple of years."

"
Edmund Sigma? I remember that creep all too well." Charlie stepped up to Logic and cupped his hands gently around her face. "Rebecca. I thought you were dead. Wolfgang and I broke into the Gate Center . . ." He gulped and put his arms around her. "You're alive."

Wolf rubbed his aching head.
"It was Gisele, too. You two were trying to work with the system. My impression was that you were doing too little to be effective, but not little enough to save yourselves. If I'm remembering anything correctly at all."

Harry snorted.
"That sounds a bit . . . right. Stupid but right. Damn. Sorry, bad manners. A pleasure to meet Rustle's friends. Charlie and I really are old . . . Well, maybe we weren't friends. I still can't remember."

"
That was over a thousand years ago. I suspect you've both changed." Rustle cocked her head and grinned. "I shall have to find out all about
Wolfgang
from this Charlie of yours. But right now I want to hear about your year and a half."

They swapped news, both trivial and serious. Then they started
talking about town sites, and house plans. Chattered about Liz and Kurt's hopes for children soon.

Wolf got Kurt talking about the history of their world.

"The Exiles arrived in the area of what is now the city of Arrival, in the country of Arrival. Then we spread out. I've seen old maps; they label the area 'Southern Europe' and the lake lands are the 'Mediterranean Deeps.' Meridian—a country the Arbolians conquered a dozen years ago—was the 'Southern Med.' Then Sahara, Arbolia—labeled 'Equatorial Rain Forest'—Serengeti and, well there were some tribes down there. Natives. The Arbolians tried to be friendly at first. Used a lot of the NewIndies symbolism as they developed their magic. There's a lot of argument about whether the Arbolians killed them all, or just assimilated them so completely there's nothing left of their culture besides the symbols the Arbolians use."

Kurt shrugged. "Anyway, they started growing instead of budding off colonies and freeing them. Then they started conquering the older countries. As far as I know—and communications aren't very good—New Caledonia in the far east and Arrival are the only remaining free nations."

"And you can't combat their magic."

"No one believes in it. I only hope that my father is right when he says the reverses we handed them will keep them away for another decade." Kurt looked around with a frown. "The reverses Lady Dec . . . Rustle handed them. Right now, I think Uncle Charlie is the only magic user we've got . . . "

"And they seem to have wandered off." Wolf got up and headed out the door, Kurt on his heels.

Xen was on the porch, holding Quicksilver. Rustle and Liz were admiring horses.

"We seem to have lost track of Charlie and Logic."

"
They went through the Gate to meet someone named Barbara," Xen informed them.

Kurt and Liz swapped glances.
"His, um former wife. It's a bit complicated. They are officially divorced, and are actually almost on speaking terms. I've got about a hundred people with me, and Sister Barbara is going to build a hospital and orphanage as they're needed. I brought both Charlie and Barbara with me. "

"
Maybe we ought to check on them." Liz brightened. "And I can show you where I want to put our house."

Kurt grinned.
"I managed to talk her out of building it around your gate."

Wolf
raised an eyebrow. "Actually, you should put it outside your town wall, for security."

The prince blinked warily at the god.

"Oh, we're peaceful enough, but time can change anything. And we do have bandits. Perhaps a separate walled section that you can close off at need and guard easily, but also go through and ask for help with other attackers."

Rustle snickered.
"That still didn't come out quite right. Other attackers, indeed! C'mon, I want to see these house plans."

The Auld Wulf followed the two
women up the hill.
She looks happy . . . I wish she'd light up at the sight of me . . . like she used to. But she's glowing magically, strongly, again. She
is
improving . . . I wish she was able to shield that glow, though. A mental shield is so necessary for anyone in Ash with any magical sensitivity at all.

But then, she doesn't have to live there.

Liz was fussing over Phantom, and Rustle laughed and told her to ride him.

Behind him
Xen's young voice rose. "Phantom says you're a good leader."

Kurt laughed.
"The horse said that? Well, I'm afraid I can't speak horse, so I'll depend on you for translation."

But with a boy like t
hat, I can't wish to change anything in the past.
Wolf followed them through the gate.

Kurt had a sizable
nucleus of followers. Camped all over, and arguing about where the roads should be.

Wolf and Kurt started surveying the area for potential defensive positions.

"If the gate was in a narrow, high walled area, no one could get through in any number before they'd have to breech your gate . . . we really ought to have thought up some unique names for these dimensional things."

Kurt grinned.
"Right. The gate to close off the gate needs to be large enough to get wagons through to the town . . . "

Wolf looked over at the higher hill. Rustle and Liz were standing at the
top, gesturing. His gaze shifted to the side at movement, and he stiffened in alarm. "I didn't even bring a sword. I hope I don't need one. Who is that?"

Kurt
looked, spotted the riders, now with a column coming into sight behind the leaders. In military order. "Roger. And Arbolians."

Summer
1377 PE, Comet Fall

August 17, 3494,
Western Hills, Arrival

Phantom was being admired by all the new people. No doubt the folks from Jeramtown were spinning tales. Rustle wondered how the tales had grown, with over a year for improvision and imagination to run free. Xen was also on top of the hill. He had Quail up in front of him on Pyrite, pointing at something.

"
You're right. This hill would be perfect for the baron's home." Rustle stopped and followed Liz's surprised gaze.

Kurt, barreling down the hill from the gate. Behind him, Wolf turned and jumped through the gate. Rustle looked
around for the cause.

Horsemen coming from the south.

"Oh my God. That's Roger. He's got an army." Liz's voice edged into panic. "We don't have any defenses."

Rustle swallowed.
"No, it's a raiding party, not an army."
Twenty men, all mounted. More still coming behind them. And I don't even have a sword. A sword. Of course. He's gone for his sword and horse and armor and . . .
She bolted down the hill aiming for Phantom.
I hope I can remember enough spells . . .
She threw a glance back at the gate. No sign of Wolf . . .
How long does it take, if he's not summoned?.

Oh.

I can get him back here faster.

"
God of War! I summon you." Her foot hit the stirrup and she vaulted into the saddle.

Dry summer dust billowed as sh
e swung Phantom around . . . no it was too dark, too horse shaped for dust.

She remembered the first time she'd seen him summoned, all black and gleaming steel . . .

Sunlight gleamed on uplifted sword and polished armor. The rearing horse touched down, and the god laughed. "Now that was faster than I thought I could get back here." His left hand dropped the reins and pulled another sword out of nowhere. "Longer than you're used to. Pay attention!" Then Jet wheeled and thundered toward the approaching troops.

Rustle sent Phantom after him.

Following her
hero, hanging on his every word . . .

The Arbolians were spreading out, forming a line and picking up speed.
Beyond them, another troop lining up to charge. She could see Roger's grin, sixty men against two. She'd like to punch his smug . . .

Punching a mage boy who
grabbed her and kissed her . . . and suddenly wishing the Auld Wulf would grab her and kiss her . . . the hot rush of
something
as she thought of it . . .

She dropped the reins and threw a low push spell. The three horses in the center
stumbled, one fell, the horse next to it leaped awkwardly over thrashing legs and the rider grabbed the saddle for balance, sword out of position.

Wolf veered
away from that one. A swing of his sword took out the soldier to the right of the downed horse.

A stride behind him,
Rustle stabbed across to her left, slid her sword across the neck of the unbalanced rider before Phantom's speed took him past the line. They wheeled. The troopers started to wheel . . . Phantom leaped forward, rammed a horse broadside and knocked him flat. The rider screamed as the horse rolled.

She blocked a swing, Phantom reared and shoved the man with his shoulder. Rustle flinched back as their swords disengaged. The sword sl
ashed down Phantom's neck. She threw a slice spell. Trooper and mount fell in a shower of blood.

Phantom spun, kicked.

There was blood on his neck.

Junk standing, trembling, on three legs. The rope stretched between trees that had brought her down. Bodies on the ground, some still moving. Pain, panic, blood and semen running down her legs . . .

"Keep your distance and use magic, men are physically stronger than you are," she told herself.

The second line of troopers was in disarray, a huge figure in armor on a giant black horse in the middle . . . suddenly out on the edge, and spinning to charge in before the troopers could turn.

Phantom leaped away from another attack, and she threw a fireball. Unlike their god, the Arbolian trooper had no shield. He fell off, burning, smoke and flames coming from a pit in his chest. What else did she know? Levitation? She flicked fingers three times. Horses lifted, spooked, reared, bolted. Sleep? A horse collapsed, the rider rolling free . . . Kurt was on him, stabbed him, and as the horse leaped to his feet, managed to get aboard.

What other spells did she know? Heat? Cold? Phantom swung away from a charging trooper. She threw the cold spell,
felt a bit of panic as the man's sword swept . . . slowed . . . and he fell. Shattered as if he were made of glass.

Phantom spun to meet a charge.

Not a trooper, this time. Blousy green shirt. A Priest. She could feel the pull, the drain on her power . . . she thought of the charms, the rhyme and raised her mental shield.

The priest laughed, scorn in his voice, triumph on his face. She tried again. Not the baby shield
, she needed that twist of mind that raised an impermeable . . . something burst suddenly, in the back of her awareness. The priest's touch cut off, completely. His eyes bugged out as he hauled his horse back. The animal slid. Phantom charged. Rustle flipped up the sword and braced arm, shoulder, back, leaned forward in the saddle. The Priest tried to turn his mount. Her point hit the priest between the ribs, sank deep and lifted him from the saddle. His weight twisted the sword from her grasp.

Wolf in the firelight. The
twist of pain, knowing he'd hate her for what she'd done. "I used you. I'm sorry."

A
misshapen form, screaming, leaping. Holding a shield. An Arbolian god, poor thing. But dangerous. Not as dangerous as she was. A shield piercing spell. Slash. The spell splintered as the god tried to seal his shield, a shower of blood and bits, thankfully contained within the shields for a crucial fraction of a second. Three hundred pounds of . . . mince . . . fell to the ground, covering a neat circle a bit over three feet across.

Another
priest, draining her. But she could feel his fumbling, his inexperience. Raised to be a vampire, using others' power. Never again. She reversed the flow, ripping the energy, the power from him. He dropped. So young.

"
I've always known I was too young for you."

She turned
toward the next opponent. Who was running away—no, he was charging up the hill.

Roger.

Aiming straight at Liz. At the little boy on the chestnut horse, pushing out in front of her.

Phantom leaped out and flattened into a dead run.

The spell of death? Not with Xen and Liz beyond him. She threw a sleep spell, but it faded before it got close.

A bay horse charged in from the side. Kurt launched his mount at Roger, who veered, spun away from the charge. Kurt hauled his horse to a sliding stop, spun him. Met Roger sword to sword, the metal ringing over the battlefield. A quick flurry, maneuvering horses. A flash and ting. A lunge
. Kurt jerked his sword back . . . Roger curled, clutching his chest. Overbalanced, fell without an effort to catch himself.

Rustle slowed Phantom, turned back to the invaders.

No one faced her.
The troops were scattered. A clump of them was backing away, trying to present enough of a united front to survive retreating from the God of War. Some of the villagers had bows, some spears, the others were safe behind their line. Three more priests faced half a dozen little gods. The misshapen men were trying to back away, their mindless panic fighting the priests' attempts to control them.

The smaller the cross-section, the further you can reach with the same energy.
With practice, perhaps we can reach far enough to divert the comet.

Rustle pointed at the nearest priest.

A pencil thin punch of something like a shield hit the priest's head. He dropped off his horse and landed limp. A small bloody spot on the side of his skull, a trickle of blood from his nostrils. The little gods fled. The other two priests put spurs to their mounts and bolted after them. Their troopers, those few left, scattered all across the hillside, wheeled and followed.

Rustle swept the field of battle with a quick gaze. The
people who had been up on the hill, were untouched. And beside Liz, Xen and his horse, knife in hand, fortunately unbloodied. Quail Quicksilver was clinging to Liz's skirts, wide-eyed.

Kurt, blood-splashed, no sign that any significant amount of it was his.

The Arbolians hadn't gotten near the gate. Logic and Charlie had taken care of the two troopers who'd gotten close.

Blue fizz, bubbles and spinning tops. The tops
she used to make the gates.

To the right, another scene of carnage.

The God of War pulled up, didn't pursue the fleeing Arbolians.

She could backtrack his path by the dead bodies.
The God of War is deadly.

Charlie
raised his voice. "Day yam, Wolfgang. You've learned a few tricks since we parted. And your wife is down right scary."

The Auld Wu
lf's laugh rolled over the gory scene. The War Horse reared, and they both disappeared.

"
What the . . . Where'd he go?" Charlie stomped forward, his eyes on Rustle.

"Home."
She took a deep breath, choked on the scent of blood and . . . other body contents. She swallowed, suddenly queasy. "He's the God of War. I prayed to him, and he came. And the problem being solved, he went back to wherever he was when I called him. Hopefully not anyplace too . . . fancy, because he takes all the blood and sweat with him."
Home. I called it home. His home, and mine.

Charlie blinked. A grin slowly spread.
"Now, that could be really interesting."

"
I suspect he went to get his horse and sword and all, just before I summoned him. I'm sure he will come back as quickly as is practical." Rustle sagged a bit, adrenaline fading, fatigue and relief making themselves felt.

Weariness dragging at her bones. Holding a knot of gravity behind a core of ice and rock as it screamed toward them. Unable to continue. Most of it would miss, but some sizable pieces had gotten through.
"I can't do any more! I'm sorry!" Mental screams of pain. Death. "I tried to save you . . . "

"
Kurt, Liz . . . I'm afraid the next thing you need to plan is a cemetery." Rustle clutched the saddle, her head aching suddenly.
I just remembered a whole bunch. And used magic easily. It all just came.

Liz was pale.
"Well, at least the only bodies we need to bury are theirs, not ours." She turned, and her eyes roved. "The northern slope of that hill would fulfill all the traditional requirements." She looked over the straggle of towns people. "Right. Who's got shovels? Let's get to it."

Rustle assisted with moving the worst of the bodies.
Patching up and tying up the few survivors. At some point she realized that Wolf was there, working as well.

Bit by bit they cleaned up. Fires were started, and food appeared. The families had all staked out spots
"in town" for houses. There were few enough farmers that their fields would be just outside the walls Kurt was planning.

"
Firewood is going to be a problem." Kurt eased down beside his bride, stiff and sporting a bruise across his left cheekbone. "And fencing, and lumber. 'S the problem with grasslands."

Logic shook her head.
"There's a good source right across that gate."

Kurt blinked.
"Oh. Of course."

Xen's high tones carried from the picket line. Phantom and Pyrite were standing
, untied, with the other horses. " . . . and that's how Jet makes shields, so you don't get cut again."

"
My poor sore husband." Liz blinked innocent eyes at Rustle. "I don't suppose you used all your wine on Phantom, did you? Take pity on this poor, poor fellow . . . "

"
Ha! You just want to see if it still has the same effect now that you're married." Rustle was leaning on her saddle, the saddle bags right there, and the remaining half bottle of that wine handy. She handed it over.

A large figure loomed, and she scooted over so Wolf could fit in. Couldn't stop the smile.
My Wolf.
She scooted back over, closer. Caught his surprised glance. "Nothing like a good fight to bring back memories. You've got about three seconds to decide I'm still too young and run away."

He answered with an arm around her shoulders.
"I think I've gotten the stupid knocked out of me. Why don't we get out of here? If that's what I think it is, Liz and Kurt will be wanting some privacy real soon."

"
It's medicinal." Rustle tried for prim.

A cackle from Charlie
. "Rebeccah? You won't believe what Wolfgang and Gisele did to this 'medicinal wine.' Wanna find out?"