Wine of the Gods 03: The Black Goats (6 page)

"Them?"

The man just pointed. "Git."

He got.

***

Oscar  flinched as the pebble hit his bare arm, then looked to see if anyone else had noticed. Tivo, Theo, Fossi, and Fiber all had their noses in their books. Harry had insisted that they at least read during the summer, which Oscar thought was pretty silly. Mind you, some of the stories were pretty interesting, but Harry always wanted to talk about them. Forcing them to think, he said.

Oscar put a scrap of paper in to mark his place and slipped out the front door.

Bran was waiting impatiently, and hustled him across the street and down the alley. "We are in so much trouble!"

"What now? C'mon, it's been weeks, and I haven't hardly seen the goats."

"They're pregnant, you idiot!"

Oscar staggered over to the side of the road and sat down. "Old gods. I thought you blood mages had something for that."

"We do. Don't you listen to what's going on around you? It was that wine! Lady Gisele and the Auld Wulf cooked it up between them as a joke or something. It had a apro, afro. . . something to drive people wild with desire. Why do you think we . . .  and those goats must have gotten some or something." Bran grabbed Oscar by the collar and hauled him up until they were face to face. "Every. Single. Woman. In. The. Valley. Is. Preggers!" He released him and Oscar thudded back down.

"There were four of us, only one bottle . . . " Oscar protested.

"It's been six weeks. They haven't had their monthly. Blood mages
are very conscious of that, you know?"

"And they sent Juli and Fava home from the party before it got wild, so they know, all your kin must know. . . "

Bran nodded. "They've been frowning at me, and I've seen some of them looking at you too."

"So the girls haven't said anything?"

"Not a word." He tossed a nervous look around. "Juli's scared, because of those goats. What if they aren't natural? What if, what if the babies . . ."

Oscar gulped. "It doesn't work like that, it can't work like that. The, the
essence
of an animal can only impregnate its own kind."

"Oh yeah? How do you explain mules, then?" Bran challenged him.

"Horses and donkeys are almost the same thing."

"Those goats, who knows what their basic essence is? They were laughing at us. I don’t think they are really goats."

"We could ask the Sheep Man?" Oscar gulped at the very idea.

"Not for all the gods in the valley. I'm leaving tonight. I figure I can head up to the Fort and enlist."

Oscar let out a gasping breath. "That's brilliant! I'm coming too."

Never rubbed her abdomen, settling her stomach. Who would have thought a pregnancy could be such a pain so quickly?

Happy tsked at her. "I told you to start doing that before you got out of bed in the morning."

"I needed to pee." Never took the biscuit Answer offered her. "Is it true that every woman in the valley is pregnant?"

"Everyone over sixteen and under sixty." Answer snorted. "Except Mostly and Likely. They've both miscarried again. They just can't seem to understand channeling." The hundred-and-twenty-year-old woman rubbed her own stomach.

"Poor girls! Are the farm wives all pregnant?" Happy sounded surprised.

"The magewives, you mean? Oh yes, they had a proper orgy down at the barn. Wine, water, and blood. We're lucky none of the soldiers thought anything about all the little cuts and nicks they acquired. People can be odd about blood magic, sometimes. And two of their teenagers, too. I really think sixteen is too young. They could be hurt."

"Did I hurt him? Lord Byson?" Never frowned. "Permanently, I mean."

Answer looked at her sternly. "Part of the reason we tend to choose nobles and officers is their arrogant, stiff-necked pride. They think very well of themselves. So if we take them down a peg or two, they end up being better men. You have to be careful with nice men. They don't have anything to spare. Keep that in mind in town. You probably ought to leave all the men alone, for a bit, until you can develop a bit of, umm, delicacy. You don't need the practice, like Mostly and Likely."

"Yes, Grandmother."

The village sent wagons twice a year on the three-day trek to the town of Wallenton. Wine, herbs, fine cloth, some finished work to be sent on to the city, semi-precious stones washed down from the mountains, the heavy bales of wool fleeces. Not much grain this year. They often made a killing selling last year's stored grain to the town bakers, months before the new harvest was in. This year most of the grain would go to Fort Stag. They'd buy iron ingots, herbs they couldn't grow here, salt and a few odds and ends. There was very little they couldn't make themselves. The town visits were more in the way of confirming their connection to the greater
world, and also made a nice holiday. And under cover of all the other commerce, a packet of diamonds for a discreet merchant in Karista wouldn't be noticed.

They set out early, three wagons, with plenty of room for passengers, even though the witches and Harry's boys all started out walking.

Harry always drove the lead wagon, the Auld Wulf the second, and on the first trip of the season, the Sheep Man drove the third. The entire Triad of the Waning Half was along to do the bargaining for the witches' trade items. The Sisters of the Crescent Moon were along to watch and learn, and get more experience at other matters as well. Never smirked a bit. Likely and Mostly were still having problems with consciously channeling.

They camped the first night in the foothills. The horses were pegged out to graze while the witches got busy with the cooking. Four of Harry's boys ran about collecting firewood for the night.

Harry checked the horses and then settled himself comfortably where he could keep an eye on the boys.

With her new abilities glittering in her, Never observed the three men. The Auld Wulf and Harry glowed dimly, even with the
sun still above the horizon. The Sheep Man kept slipping from her vision, as if her inner eye couldn't see him.

She settled down by Harry and looked at him curiously. "What are you? Are you, Lady Gisele and the Auld Wulf really gods? I know you were living in the valley half a century ago, when the four witches found it. And you glow. Were you in the war?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "The war? There have been so many wars the Creator probably can't keep track of them. Your war was sixty years ago, barely an eyeblink in the history of the world. Oh," he held up his hand to stop her retort. "It was bad enough, with dangerous magic flying about on both sides. Killed almost all the magic users this side of the Great Divide." He jerked a thumb at the snow-topped mountains turning rosy with the reflected sunset. "And on the far side they had a full-up wizard war about a thousand years before. The last tyrant wizard took a lot of the top rebels with him, but they chained him in the end. Walled him up in a deep dungeon to rot. Wizards need the sun like witches need the earth, eh? The rest of the wizards kept fighting until the populous rose up and tossed them all—mostly on the bonfire. The only smart one was the one that walked away." His eyes flicked toward the Sheep Man.

She nodded.

"And hundreds of years before that there were magic users so powerful they made themselves gods, all the old little local gods of springs and cross roads, groves and temples. But the mages and the witches had a falling out, they attacked each other, and any little gods using their power for one side or the other, and cast them out." He frowned and rubbed his forehead. "Or killed them or something like that. I have trouble remembering. And I keep remembering stuff that makes no sense at all. We're too strongly influenced by the collective subconscious."

His eyes
glowed in the rosy light. "We three, we were some of the original gods. The Auld Wulf, he was a man's god. He gave strength to the hunter, bravery to the soldiers, virility to the young men and wisdom to the elders. Bah, now he makes wine. And plays silly tricks on everyone with wine. I was a traveler, the God of the Roads. I kept the roads safe, and knew the joy of always traveling on, seeking new sights. Now? I help lost children, wandering alone on the road." He smiled suddenly. "And sometimes I get lucky and pull lost witches and mages into a safe crossroad."

"But Ash doesn't have a real crossroad, just an alley."

"That's good enough, even though I had to make it all myself. I gain strength from roads. When they open the Old Road through the Divide . . . I don't know what will happen. Mayhap I'll go traveling again."

Never drew in a breath of dismay. "The roads' gain will be the valley's loss."

His eyes warmed. "A successful traveler always returns home."

She left him alone then, going to help with dinner, and think about what he'd said.

She rose early, fed the banked fire and started water boiling. The boys were up shortly after, scooping grain for the horses, and leading them to water. Hot porridge and fruit for breakfast, and then they were back on the road.

They emerged from the foothills at noon, and took a break to water the horses and rest them. The clinking of the brass on the horses' harness was the only unnatural sound. There were few farms and fewer settlements in these dry hills. The brief spring growing season was already shutting down, the grasses showing dry golden edges.

Never stared out over the plain. "I feel like I can see forever, but I can't even tell where the city is."

Mostly sat down and rubbed her foot. "I feel like I've walked forever. I didn't like being pregnant. And now that I've miscarried, I'm still tired."

"All the time," Likely agreed. "I bled a lot when I missed. And now we're supposed to find more men and practice on them. I don't want to practice sex. It just isn't that great."

Never choked a bit. "You're not supposed to be learning to be courtesans. You're witches. You need to learn how to control the flow of power, and it's easiest when the power is switching back and forth between a man and a woman."

They swapped uncertain looks. "You mean you don't just lay there and let them do stuff?"

Never sighed. "I guess that's why rape is such a powerful thing for a witch. When the male essence, which is all arrogance and ownership and aggressive as all get out is high, and the man takes you, the energy pull is strong. It drains you, and you have to fight back and take the power back. Then when the man has an orgasm, the power just floods back into you and you have to ground it, send it back into Earth without getting hurt."

Mostly gulped. "We just had fun, lots of giggles. Men don't seem very possessive to me."

"I think you're too accommodating." Never frowned. "And you were inside, upstairs even, away from Earth, so you brought very little power into the coupling."

"I don't think kicking them is a good idea, even if
it did finally work out for you," Likely said.

"Well, you don't want to fight them off, just fight them enough to get their aggression and determination going. Or run away and make them catch you," Never frowned. "And maybe do it outside on the ground, even though dirt doesn't carry power as easily as rock."

They both looked dubious.

"We did it outside once," Mostly shrugged.

"Really? Then you must have been much too sweet about it."

"Well, we felt sorry for him. You weren't being very nice to the poor man."

Never boggled. "Treham? Both of you? Old gods. Before or after that party? No, don't tell me. It's none of my business." She shook her head ruefully. The man had no reason to remember her fondly or feel attached to the woman who nearly drowned him. She rose and started walking down the road. The boys were hitching the horses to the wagons and would be following her soon enough. She liked the feel of the road; it was old, not as old as the Old Roads of course, but she kicked her shoes off and walked barefoot through the dust, feeling the power rising gently from the bedrock now far below her feet. There was another power, too. Something strong and safe.
The God of the Crossroads, the God of Travelers, is on this road today.

The second night they camped at a major crossroads with two other merchants. Mostly and Likely eyed the young men in the other caravans, and were eyed in return. Delight shook her head at the young women. "No. They're nice boys, and one of them is a bit simple. You'd hurt them if you did enough moving of the power to do you any good at all."

They grumbled, but headed for bed. Never rolled out at midnight when someone kicked her feet. She felt the threat immediately, ill will and hunger aimed at them. She strung her bow. Arrow nocked, she stepped to the side of the three men and eyed the barely visible horsemen. The moon was bright enough that they could see the prepared defenses of the camps. The Auld Wulf, Harry and The Sheep Man prowled, circling the three camps and staying between the slowly circling  horsemen and the camp. The two triads mounted wagons, the better to shoot over the men's heads, and the boys joined them, variously armed. The horsemen turned abruptly and faded into the night. Never put on a pot of coffee and took a long watch. She dozed in the wagon in the morning, but perked up the next day as Wallenton came into sight.

The town lay on a small river, a tributary to the mighty Karista. Merchants here sent their purchases down river on barges, all the way to the city of Karista, capital of the Kingdom of the West. Ash's own little river joined the tributary here, adding its
sulfur-rich waters to the flow. Farms followed the little rivers, balancing the safety found in the proximity of Fort Wallenton against the limited farmable land along the rivers.

The town of Wallenton had grown up around the fort but it still had a high palisade, and its own guards. All paid for with taxes
and tolls. The gatekeepers grumbled over their Crown tax credit certificates, but filled out their pass and let them in.

The folk from the valley were well known, and a
three-way bidding war sprang up spontaneously for the Sheep Man's wool. Never wondered what he did to it, other than shearing his sheep with the slickest bit of magic she'd ever seen. He seemed to get an awful lot of twin and triplet lambs, too. The small amount of wheat they'd brought was snapped up quickly.

Curious chuckled. “Wait until the wine merchants show up. Then you'll see a real brawl."

"We'll sell our things a bit more slowly." Delight started pulling out wrapped parcels. "So let's start by taking these to a merchant for delivery in the City." She piled all three girls with packages, and then led the way down the street and around the corner to the warehouse of a merchant they did business with regularly.

The merchant's factor weighed and measured the packages, calculated a fee for taking the packages down the river, and added a fee for delivery once in the city. Never could feel him deciding to bump up the final figure, and then felt Delight reach out ever so gently with reproof. The young man flushed a bit and totaled his figures with only a small profit for the merchant. He was also happy to take some of their rough semi-precious stones in payment, knowing that he could get more for them in the city, so they parted amiably, satisfied all around.

Elegant and Curious had found lodging for them all, and shifted the remainder of their goods to their rooms. The fine cloth they wove during the winter had been dropped off at an auction house, so they had only the herbs and the rest of the stones to dispose of. The diamonds had been in one of the packages sent down river. The witches were willing to risk theft before they'd risk a rush of prospectors into their mountains. The gem merchant in Karista was under the impression that they were from further south, and assisted in hiding their source.

The boys told varied and exaggerated tales of how many fist fights had broken out between wine merchants, and how much money the Auld Wulf had gotten, and an invitation from the governor's wife to the three older women arrived. Never heard Harry say something about the governor being out of town, so he couldn't drag them off to a meeting.