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Authors: Pam Uphoff

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BOOK: Wine of the Gods 08: Dark Lady
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"
No but there's a livery on Preston street by the north gate." Liz bit her lip. Most of the horses there were past their prime.

"
Good we'll go there and get a spare mount."

 

Chapter Four

Wednesday, February
18th, 3493 AD

Jeramtown, Arrival

 

The big stallion was eager to get out, but behaved like
a perfect gentleman while the lady rode him with the baby in her arms.

At the livery she asked both about horses to rent and to buy, and happily looked over his entire stable. Mr. Preston, third in the line of Prestons to own the stables, was horribly distracted, his head turning constantly to look at Phantom.

He had some decent horses, although most were past their best working years. Liz petted them and held the baby, and watched the lady. A proper horse trader, that one. In the end she bought a sixteen year old mare for four stud fees, and tack for a fifth. Moxie was a nice old girl, wise and calm. Smart. A damn good horse, actually, even with a touch of arthritis in her hocks. She didn't mind crying babies at all, and Liz finally got to ride Phantom. It was like going to a horseman's paradise. His trot had just enough spring to post if you wanted to. His canter was smooth, his gallop smoother, and a flat out run didn't seem to touch the ground. He jumped everything she asked, fences wood or stone, the creek. She jumped him over a cow just because it was there.

The l
ady just laughed, watching on a relaxed Moxie. "Think you can manage courier's duties on him?"

"
Oh my word. He's even better to ride than to look at. Oh my word."

They wandered back when they got hungry, and Liz sponged the horses down even though even Phantom had barely sweated. They cleaned up and had a late lunch, then strolled out to buy some wine.

"You never know when you'll need it." The lady bit her lip and eyed Liz. "Is there magic in this world, Liz?"

"
No M'lady, although some people think so. The superstitious ones say the king has magic, and the Arbolians say they have gods. Actual living ones, walking around, not God, who is different. And the Marchessaus, they say they ride the wind, instead of horses."

"
Hmm, so it's not
all
gone, then."

Liz eyed her, askance, but however unusual, the lady didn't seem
uncanny.

 

***

 

December watched the young officers with amusement, that evening. They all kept sneaking looks their way. The other captain finally broke the ice.

"
We noticed that black horse out, today."

Liz beamed.
"Wasn't he spectacular!" She lit up like a witch girl on the Solstice.

What
?

The girl's
reddish brown hair gleamed, even braided and pinned so tightly around her head. "I'd never have thought a horse that size had that much speed in him."

Her enthusiasm drew all the other officers.

"I assume you'll be riding courier next week?" Captain Alpha smiled.

Odd name. I
t stirred, not direct memories, but something like it the Wolf had said . . .
Who? Who is "the Wolf?"

"
Oh yes, I do every year. I grew up on horseback." Liz tossed her head like a horse.

The enthusiastic young men chatted about their favorite horses, races, long journeys, tall tales about their hardest journeys. Only Quail waking and fussy pulled the group apart, the young officers to their beds for their early rising, and December and Liz back to their rooms to avoid some of the other patrons, who appeared a bit drunk and not at all shy. The soldiers were all in the old rooms above the common room, and the women nearly alone down the new ell. When two patrons egged each other into following, she nudged their sodden brains just a bit and they bumped each other and commenced an argument that lasted until
the women's doors were locked behind them. The magic felt funny, numb, or like trying to do delicate needle work wearing thick mittens. Rather like her fingers and toes. She snorted at the thought of frostbit magic. Actually, everything seemed to be getting
in
without any problem, or even conscious thought. Perhaps she'd better think about how to keep things out. A physical shield was just . . . she held her hand out to the side, formed a small shield, tapped it on the ground. Yes, no problem. A mental shield was twist of mind . . . she flinched back from pain . . .

I can't save you! I haven't any more to give!
Memories of the screams of the injured and dying  . . .

Went away.

Her head pounded.

Perhaps an indoor privy was not so bad. She closed herself in the little closet and bathed her face in cold water. Practiced deep breathing, and decided she wasn't going to be sick.

December finally walked back out. Explored the saddlebags and pulled out a warm robe. Quail woke, so she fed the hungry baby, and burped her and rocked her. Hummed a snatch of song.

Liz came back in
from the privvy, clean and refreshed, with a thin cotton shift swirling around her calves.

"
Apart from your baronet, everyone here seems very nice. Perhaps I should buy a house."

"
Perhaps you should buy a horse farm."

"
Now there's a good thought. Who do you talk to find out about farms that might be for sale? The Exchange, again?"

"
I think the baron owns all the land, every one holds from him."

"
Hmm, no private land owners?"

"
Well, Jeramtown is a Crown Charter Town, so everything inside the walls is different. That's why the baron's home is actually outside the walls. I think he's making a statement of disapproval over the town not being his."

"
Umm. I see. Or at least I can take a good guess. There's always that tendency in some people to want to own and control things. And people."

Chapter Five

Thursday, February 19, 3493 AD

Jeramtown, Arrival

 

The next day an invitation from
the baroness to dine with them the following day arrived at the tavern. Addressed solely to Lady Quicksilver.

"
I suspect taking a maid along is expected." She frowned at the missive.

"
And arriving in a coach," Liz fretted.

"
Mister Preston had several carriages for rent. Can you drive as well as you ride, Liz?"

"
Well, no, but still very well."

"
And babies and dinner engagements?"

"
Babies don't exist. I could try and find a wet nurse, or take her in the carriage, and feed her with a bap if she wakes. She's spending a lot more time awake, these days."

"
She's getting older. At least we haven't hit the teething stage yet." December frowned at a flash of memory. A fussy baby, a man holding his hands out for him. Tall, brown hair and beard, dark eyes. She looked at the baby, still baby fuzz on her head, the slatey blue of all babies' eyes was darkening but still blue. No telling if she was the child of that barely remembered man.

"
Well, if showing up with a female companion driver is insufficient, they will just have to be shocked." December shrugged the question away. "Which dress?"

"
The black with the embroidered panels." Liz was firm. "And you need some dainty slippers to go with it. Those riding boots won't do."

 

***

 

Liz had to admit that
she
had never owned a pair of shoes like High Born Ladies wore with their dresses. And the shops didn't keep such things on hand, except as examples. A cobbler agreed to stitch up something from some thin black leather, and have it done by evening. The lady seemed glad to escape, but still insisted on stops to look at cosmetics and perfume.

Liz took Quail away, as the l
ady wished to be alone for awhile. When she returned, she was scandalized to find the lady sitting cross-legged on the floor, her thin shift rucked up around her thighs.

"
What do you think?" She held out a teardrop shaped crystal pendant on a gold wire, and placed it around her neck. Two smaller pendants were on wires cleverly twisted into spring clamps that would hold them on her ears.

They were different, but attractive.

Liz spent the next morning collecting the shoes from the cobbler, and arranging the coach from the livery.

And finally helping the lady dress.

December had to practice walking in the shoes, with their elegant high heels. "Hopefully I'll only sprain an ankle, not break my neck. Whoever heard of shoes you could fall off of?"

Her short curly hair, light brown, almost blonde, was combed severely back from her face, and she rose now to sit at the table with her cosmetics. A little powder, a little pencil on the eye brows, and touch of charcoal around her deep blue eyes, a touch of color to cheeks and lips.

Liz sighed. December was not classically beautiful, but she was going to catch a lot of attention tonight.

 

The coach and four horses was well enough turned out, and the horses not so old that they didn't look good. This was the coach that many young couples hired for their weddings, to pick up honored guests and then for the trip from Church to home or hall. Quail was fed and burped, and bedded down in the coach, and Liz, in the lady's riding suit of fine wool, drove the four chestnuts through the east gate of the Town, and almost immediately tuned into the baron's Gates and pulled to halt under the portico. She set the brake, hopped down, and opened the carriage door to hand down the lady. When she turned, both the captains were there to take over escort duties. The Prince caught her eye and winked. She narrowly avoided winking back, and drove the horses over behind the barn, where she'd seen visitors' carriages waiting so many times before. She set the brake, and the horses settled down to wait patiently. She also wondered how many mares Phantom was going to cover this evening. Preston had been so innocent about suggesting she ride him down when she picked up the coach, and leave him until she returned. The lady had been amused. "Stealing stud services is a long honored tradition where I come from," she'd said, and then gotten that puzzled look again.

The l
ady herself was a puzzle. 'Quicksilver' was embroidered on quite a few of the baby's things. But not a single Quail. And there were no words at all in the lady's other embroidered items.

She'd only known the l
ady for four days. She could be from anywhere. The faint accent she'd heard the first day had already disappeared. Liz hoped the lady remembered, and hoped that what the lady remembered wasn't so awful that she regretted the memories.

She kept her eyes open and alert, hoping Roger had no idea she was here, wishing some of her siblings would come round with tea the way she had occasionally.

And wondering what was going on at dinner.

 

***

 

"This Kingdom of the West, I haven't found anyone who has heard of it." Captain Alpha studied the elegant woman beside him.

"
Yes," she frowned uncertainly. "I'm afraid I cannot enlighten you. My memories . . . something happened, people screaming and dying all over. I fled with my daughter, and I am not altogether sure how I got here."

He could feel her dis
tress, but also her reticence.
She remembers more than she says.

"
I quite distinctly recall a Kingdom of the West, but I suppose it could be
a
kingdom somewhere in the west. The poor horse was coated with dried salt from sweating, exhausted. We found a stream, and rested, and wandered around for a few weeks and finally followed the smell of wood smoke until it led us to your north gate."

Unfortunately the doctor overheard that, and turned to join the conversation.
"My dear lady, clearly you have suffered a traumatic experience. Your weak female mind is unable to deal with it, and has broken under the strain."

She blinked in astonishment.
"Traumatic damage, possibly, yet I wouldn't think it was because of my femaleness."

"
Doctor Easler, may I present Lady December Quicksilver."

"
My dear, what a pleasure to meet you. And I assure you, the female mind is a feeble and easily damaged organ. Education for women should be banned, much too great a danger."

Kurt could feel her combined astonishment, contempt, and puzzlement.

She frowned at the man. "We shall always disagree on the matter, sir, so why don't we dismiss the subject. Tell me about education in general, here. Where did you go to become a doctor?"

"
Well, my Dark and Mysterious Lady, I traveled to The University in Lundun. It is a grand and inspiring place, although you would no doubt find it overwhelming."

"
Which country is it in?" She was amused, but under it, thinking about something else.

"
Arbolia, my dear a huge empire to the south of us, that some people think will eventually engulf the World."

"
Arbolia? Is that were they think they have living gods walking the streets?"

That is something she wants
to know about, with a sick twist of apprehension in with the hopefulness.

The doctor laughed.
"They talk about it, but I never saw any person who actually claimed to be a god. Mind you, I heard that in Paree they are very strange, and they say there are hideously ugly mutants with magical powers down in the catacombs."

The lady thought that over, an
d wrinkled her nose. "Really?" She turned to look at the other people present.

Kurt offered her his elbow,
"Have you met the baron and Baroness?"

"
No, I have not had that pleasure," she smiled as she walked up to them.

"
Baron Christian Weigh, Baroness Heidi Weigh, may I present Lady December Quicksilver."

"
Lady December, my pleasure." The Baron took her hand, and the baroness gave her a fishy once over.

"
Baron, Baroness, thank you for inviting me tonight," she looked them straight in the eye with the faintest inclination of her head.

"
Ah, and our son, Roger," the baron boomed.

"
Baronet, a pleasure."

"
Still have that slut working for you, I hear." Roger must have started hitting the bottle at lunch, and not stopped since.

"
You misjudge her." She shrugged indifferently.

Inside she was
. . . hating the drunken ass. A nasty twist of a desire for violence, and loathing for the man. Kurt could feel her iron control, and the determination to let it go, an awareness of how much that hatred harmed her. Fascinating. She was such a contrast to her sunny friend. He ground a mental heel down on his own hatreds and past injuries.
Not for me. Neither the Sunny Girl nor the Dark Lady. Not ever again.

The Baroness closed in, with a smile like a shark.
"Will your husband be joining you here, Lady December?"

"
I don't know. I fled a bad situation, and do not know if he even lives, let alone is in any shape to find me," her eyebrows were quirked together again.

A gaggle of young women arrived, two of his lieutenants escorting th
eir sisters and their friends.
Husband hunting, pretty slim pickings, this stop.
He knew perfectly well he was one of the targets. A woman can over look a lot of deficiencies in a husband, when he can make her a princess. And if she'd seduce one of his brothers, she could even give him a child with the family looks to raise, and keep up appearances. Several of them had informed him that they were quite willing to so sacrifice themselves.

Introductions all around, for the few who hadn't met each other, and Lady December who hadn't met any of them. The other four Lieutenants arrived and they were all swept in to dinner, a formal affair that
Lady December had no problem with whatsoever. He caught snatches of her conversation with the people on either side of her, and her growing irritation with the young man beside her, one of Roger's local friends. Lord Hasty or Pasty or something similar.

The Baroness had imported a string quartet from God knows where and they played pleasantly through dinner, then relocated to the ball room and played waltzes. The Baron led out
the baroness, and after a measure, Roger led out one of the Husband Hunters. Her brother did not look happy. Kurt slipped away from two women closing in on him, and begged a dance of the dark lady.

"
Certainly, I am honored sir."

She danced lightly, but distantly, and at the end of the dance faded into the small crowd.

When he looked for her a few dances later, the baron informed him that she had departed early. "Woman's got a baby, after all."

"
True, and a husband somewhere, worse the luck," he muttered to Jack Jenner.

"
Huh. You always were a sucker for the smart ones. Some things never change."

Certainly not dodging ambitious young ladies. Somehow they seemed much more forward now. He supposed he was judged as safe now. Or maybe, with a foreign engagement in shambles behind him, they assumed he was no longer treaty fodder, and worth serious pursuit.

It was going to be a long and fruitless chase for this lot.

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