Comet Fall (Wine of the Gods) (15 page)

She reached, mentally, and could feel the meteorites as they streaked past, too fast to do anything to them. She gathered more power, and pushed her awareness further, higher. The tenuous, thin air felt hot. She pushed further. A rock . . . she swatted at it, watched it bound higher and zip off out of reach. She reached, stretched . . . flopped back on the grass with a pounding headache.

Just as well I advanced early. Perhaps I should have stayed home for more training, even second hand. But nothing can rush the next step of my advancement. There's not enough time for Xen, let alone a theoretical sister, to grasp power. If the comet is going to hit, we'll just have to do our best.

***

The air got chilly, but they were far enough south that when a storm reached them, it was just rain and wind, no snow at all. Rustle molded enough rock to keep both people and horses dry through the first storm. Counting major fault zones she was fairly sure when they passed from being north of the kingdom to north of Verona. Then they turned directly east, staying north of the Old Road and the actual start of Veronian civilization, although the northern border was so nebulous she had no idea where she was in relationship to it.

They lived like nomads and grew ragged and scruffy.

But well fed. Rustle's old unnoticeable spell worked on all sorts of animals. Rabbits, pheasant, deer, and bison. A then a quick slice spell, and they had all the meat they could hope for. She showed Xen the edible greens, and how to dig up wild onions.

The wolves avoided them. The wild horses came near, attracted by Junk and Phantom. But they were hunted enough to be wary of humans.

One night a foal approached to just within the firelight . . . or perhaps not. A silent, thin man eyed them through a reddish mass of untamed and uncut hair. He didn't speak, but when she laid out a serving at the edge of the light, well to the side, he circled around and ate it.

"My father is from Scoone. He tells stories of a wild boy long ago, who joined the wizards, to protect the town."

The wildman just finished his bison and retreated from sight.

They didn't see him again, but Xen was sure that every reddish foal they spotted must be him.

"I wildman. Turn into horse!" The boy was showing signs of going from barely talking to never shutting up. Except he'd sit quietly by her side for hours while she meditated. "Never go back
there.
"

"I'm afraid
we'll need to go back now and then. But we don't have to stay. And we don't have to visit the really rude ones."

"
Rude." He nodded. "Not Dad. And Granddad."

She
eyed him and hoped he'd been guessing from expressions. Had some people been saying things out of her hearing, but within Xen's? Her mother hadn't been hiding her feelings very well. She picked at her fraying sleeve. "And I need to figure out how to make money to buy some new clothes, or else start tanning these hides and live in leather."

Xen's eyes widened as he eyed
the remains of her latest victim, a yearling bull bison. "Big black coat?"

"Oh my. Hmm, well, lets just have a go at a bit of brain tanning. But first I need to get the meat all cut up and smoking or cooking.
" She looked around. "And we'll camp here for awhile, because poor Junk can't carry everything, and Phantom's . . . a bit over two. I suppose he could start carrying some weight."

The bull had been small enough for Junk to drag back to their campsite. They had a small bluff to cut the north wind, and a small spring provided both water for their use and an attractant for wildlife.

We could live here forever.

She
finished her butchery, and amateur tanning, then they walked over to the spring to clean up. "I've never done brain tanning before. There are other ways to do it, and people who know how . . . so I just bought leather from someone else. So this first experiment may not work."

In fact it smelled so awful, they
dragged it away and let the scavengers have it.

The weather warmed. Warmed further.

On the night of the Summer Solstice, Rustle sweated as she greeted the Moonrise all by herself. She sang the Full Moon gently up and down. A coyote's howl harmonized briefly, then she was alone again. Remembering what she'd walked away from.
Just the witches, not the power.

In the morning she and Xen took a long walk, collecting berries and greens.

The horses were staked out to graze, and Phantom trotted over to the end of his rope to visit as they walked back.

"Ride Phanty!" Xen reached out for the stallion, who nudged the boy tolerantly.

"You're going to be one of those protective type stallions, not the aggressive type, aren't you bud?" Rustle set the boy on the horse's broad back, keeping a grip.

Xen leaned forward to hug him and then thumped his heels. Phantom looked around indulgently, then lifted his head to stare across the plain. Rustle pulled Xen down and perched him on her hip as she followed the direction of the horse's gaze.

A distant neigh answered, and Rustle climbed a rock for a better look.

Wagons, two of them, and four riders. The riders were galloping toward them, and Rustle reviewed her more distant magical attacks. Not long enough.
With a sniff, she put Xen down by the saddle and grabbed her bow. Magic was inconveniently short ranged. She'd rather deal with the problem from outside its reach.

"I
fight too!" Xen called. "I fight, Mom, with a sword!"

"You are still a little small for a real sword, my little warrior. I suspect your father will give you one when you are ready for it."
Her eyes tracked the strangers.

"Big sword?"

"Very Big."

"Mine?"

"Yep."

He crowed happily.

"You stay right there."

Rustle
stepped out in plain sight as the riders veered and circled to get a good look at the camp.

They rode whooping around the picketed horses three times, their braided hair flying. Their clothes were colorful, their bridles flashed with cheap glass beads and their horses had seen a lot of miles and years.

As they circled, they kept trying to look over at her, but their heads kept turning toward Phantom like iron to a loadstone.
Horse thieves, perhaps, but not rapists.

One of them swooped in, as if to cut the stallion's picket line, but Rustle had seen their horses long enough to be able to suggest a fright to the gelding, and it spooked away.

"Good evening." Rustle called. "Why don't you forget about horse stealing and just come for dinner?"

"You aren't Travelers. Anyone can see that." The man pulled his gelding to a halt. "What are you doing out here?"

"Traveling to Cadent. And you?"

"There've been Auralian raiders hitting the Old Road. We figured that the God of Travelers would forgive us if we left the road."

"Auralians?"

"They sneak through the Southern divide, and attack anyone.
Soldiers, mostly. But the Amma doesn't pay well, instead he lets them keep anything they make from raids. Horses and children are valuable."

Rustle looked a bit skeptically at their old animals.
But perhaps they have children.
"Well. I'm not a raider. Will you share the hospitality of my fire?"

"
Who are you? Why should a Traveler trust you?" But his eyes had found Xen, and his shoulders relaxed.

"Well, unless you're going to drive along with us to Cadent, you don't need to trust us. But you really shouldn't attack us." Rustle pointed beyond the man. "I've been building mile markers, every night. If the God of Travelers comes this way, to check the new road, he'll see what you have done."

All four of their heads cranked around and stared at the pile of rocks. Then swiveled back to her. "You worship the Traveling God? Do you know his sacred name?"

"I do not worship any gods, but Harry is a life-long friend of mine."

They stared, then the leader nodded. "I beg pardon for discourteousness. You are indeed Travelers."

"With raiders about, some wariness is needed, no offense was taken. Please, will you join us for dinner?"

"We will."

The four men were brothers, and the two wagons carried the wives and children of two of them. The bachelor brothers eyed Rustle and she shook her head. "
I am a witch, we do not marry."

That met with skepticism, but most of their attention was still on the horses.

"The bay, she is the dam?"

"
Yes, she is by a very good stallion, her dam, well we don't actually know her breeding. My father could have had a magnificent career as a horse thief, if he were not a wizard."

Laughter. Marisa, the younger of the wives said, "You Westerners, you think everything is magic. But we saw you ready to use bow and arrow, not lightning bolts."

"Lightning." Xen threw up his hands. "Boom!"

"Show us."

"Too expensive." Rustle grinned. Just as well they didn't believe her.

More laughter.

"Which direction are you headed," Rustle asked. "Do you think you need to go further north to be safe from the raiders?"

"We are headed east. It may be that we will get to Cadence, or something might come up before then." Faro shrugged. "We came a bit north because of the raiders, and then the wind brought the scent of grass to the horses. But we will probably travel along with you for a bit." 

"Strength in numbers?" She asked.

"More opportunities for our mares to come into season and be accidentally bred."

Rustle snickered, "You are welcome to try. Phantom is younger than he looks."

Other than having to fend off the occasional pass, they were good company, and good guides. Xen fit in comfortably with their kids and learned to deal with other children. The Travelers knew all the roads of Verona, and
where to sell garnets. She rather thought she was cheated on the price of a few of her garnets, but she needed very little actual money. By the time they approached Cadent, Rustle and Xen had new clothes and with fashion tips from Marisha and Farli, looked like proper Travelers.

They turned more directly south, and the villages became more frequent, the towns larger. As they encountered more people, Rustle worked out illusions that would draw attention from the horses. A bit of power here and there . . . Their new friends looked on in astonishment as Junk got scruffy and thin, and the tall black got faded and bony.

"Can you make a scrawny horse look good?" Faro asked, clearly thinking of some profitable horse sales.

"Faro, you and your family have been outstandingly good traveling companions. My son calls yours his brother. Just for you, I will perform a feat of actual magic." Rustle got up and rummaged in her saddlebags. The wine was ordinary. She had picked it up a few days ago, figuring she could do the Travelers one last favor. She uncorked the bottle, and poured in a spoonful from the flask she kept in her pouch. She swirled the bottle, and it gleamed in the firelight.

"Ah, wine for dinner?" Faro reached for it.

"Nope. Wine for horses. Watch." She walked down the picket line, giving each of the Traveler's horses a dose. She waited, as the horses shifted, shook themselves to shed old brittle hair, and danced a bit.

Faro leaned forward in disbelief. "How long does the illusion last?"

"No illusion. Although their old age will catch up with them in a few years. There is one problem, though. Your gelding is going to be a stallion shortly."

He gave an incredulous laugh, then looked again, strok
ed glossy coats. One of the mares nickered at Phantom. "Ah, time for an accident, I see." He hastily grabbed his ugly gelding and hauled him away from the mares. "Not your sort of accident." Two of the other mares swished their tails and one squealed, in a tone that riveted Phantom's interest.