by Pam Uphoff
"What if your god comes back?"
"Well, I wandered around for a month before I found Jeramtown. So I suspect I'll be back before he gets here."
Kurt pinched the bridge of his nose. "If, Lady December, you are feeling particularly invisible, you might get ahead of the army and follow any messengers they send out. No doubt some will go to Paree, but surely they'll be sending news of this debacle to any other armies out there. If they are planning on attacking Arrival City . . . Let me show you a map."
Liz sighed. "And mind you, with these Corridors, I expect you to come home to feed Quail twice a day and get a good night's sleep."
"Yes, Mother. Goodness, I can cheat like that, can't I?" December grinned and turned her attention to the map. The border between Arrival and Arbolia was a long low valley filled with lakes and bogs. It reached from steep scarps up to the high desert in the west to the ocean in the east and had five spots where crossing was possible without boats.
"Unless there's been a lot of rain, or a long drought." Kurt cast a dubious glance outside. The day was overcast, but they'd had only a few brief showers, so far. "This year has been very strange. Makes me wonder if the priests can control the weather. As dry as it has been, the marshes between Lake Endor and Lake Morgaine have probably nearly dried up. That has to have been the route they took to get here. Messages to Paree will go straight south, messages to another army, probably to the east."
December touched a name on the map. "Meridian? Is that their state, over there?"
"The former country. My maps are ten years out of date. We've been talking our heads off, and preparing for their next expansion for most of the decade." Kurt sighed. "Find that army for me, count them and come tell me where they are. We need to know if this is their big push, or if they're just trying to take a small nibble."
"Yes, sir!" December raised her hands and then hesitated. "I think perhaps I should anchor my Corridor outside the walls, just in case."
"Indeed. And perhaps, umm, open the South Gate for us?"
"Oh. Yes. Good idea."
Liz fussed and made sure she had food and water, a new sword, had fed Quail . . . eventually she gave up and watched her ride away.
Kurt wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "I suspect she'll be well . . . Busy. Deadly. I wonder what she'll do to an Army if she finds one?"
***
Phantom was delighted to be out and moving. They picked up the road to the south. Rain the last two days, the hard surface, patrols, and the wind blowing dust before that, couldn't hide the tracks of an army on the move. She might have trouble later, but for now she had some time to make up, and she was riding the horse that could do it. Phantom stretched out and ran.
The storm was blowing up behind them and she hoped the Army wouldn't get bogged down, now that it was leaving Jeram. She hoped she wouldn't get bogged down.
Phantom slowed as they entered the woods. December looked for the glowing spots of complex human thoughts, and found nothing. They traveled thirty miles south before she felt the first sentries. She warped light, leaving a sizable hole to see through in the low frequencies, and the men the Arbolians had left as a rear guard shifted nervously as heavy trotting hooves passed. They crossed two streams through ever-thickening woods and the ground softened with increased mulch and dampness. The dirt road turned east to parallel the swampy shore of a large lake. In the soft ground of the grassy track she could see the impact of an army's movement; fresh damage as of a few days ago. Her head was starting to ache with the strain of holding the light warp, and she released it reluctantly.
Phantom approved and loped down the road, both of them alert in their separate ways.
She caught the faint edge of bored thought and slowed Phantom to silence their passage, warping the light and ghosting past a small farm occupied by a small troop of soldiers. There were no feelings of guilt or remorse to be felt, no fearful captives either. She hoped that meant the farmers had seen the Army's approach in time to escape. She doubted it though. Sneak attacks required silence.
Phantom walked past the farm and the sentries yawned and paced and neither saw nor heard a thing. They had little magic. The marks of boots on the road ahead of them were a bit sharper.
The Army had spent their first night here, and she had just gained ten hours or so on them. But even Phantom tired eventually. Perhaps another ten miles, then they would stop. Phantom shook his mane and cocked an ear behind. She nodded, in reply. They would not beat the storm, best press on now, and recuperate through the worst of the weather.
"There's going to be damn little shelter. On the other hand, I can cheat, can't I? I'm under orders from Liz to come home every night."
They alternated trotting, cantering and walking until the gusts and the first big stinging drops hit. Then she anchored the end of the Corridor to some trees well off the path, and they stepped through, and out of the wall of the Jeram Town. Liz and Kurt, with an array of troops and archers were waiting for her.
In the morning, she nursed Quail one last time and saddled up and rode out.
They walked through the wet grass and the squelching mud that was the only sign an army had passed through. They must have caught up some, the rear scouts were becoming more frequent, but they stopped again when they were at risk of losing the faint remains of the track in the dark.
Then she dealt with a thoroughly angry baby, and slept soundly in the Inn.
"This is a ridiculously decadent way to scout the enemy." She savored an omelet gooey with melted cheese and headed out before dawn.
As the brush and trees thickened the trail became more obvious with trees cut and brush crushed, branches broken and leaves brown. They moved steadily all day, fast where possible, but with few breaks. The lake shore fell away to the south and they wound through marshy bogs, following the improvements the Army had had to make to get their heavy wagons through. Another lake was visible to the east, then the track turned and climbed to the south. A slight crest of land showed the scars of a longer encampment, most marks washed smooth, but the grass hadn't had time to spread back and reclaim the denuded areas. The Army had waited here before the siege, perhaps until the baron's son was lured to them? Or until the quarterly training was nearly done, so they could move in as soon as the prince had departed? Or had they waited here until the prince came, so as to capture him?
The track ran straight, draining well through the sandy soil on this side of the rise. Phantom danced to be out of the mud, and leaped out into his ground covering lope. They found the army at sunset, and swung wide around it.
They circled east, to spot any messengers sent to the east. And set up the corridor.
Kurt's scouts could take over the watch, now.
She could rest until she was needed again.
Chapter Twenty-five
Sunday, April 12, 3493 AD
Jeramtown, Arrival
"You are very quiet, Dec, err, Rustle." Liz was a bit worried by the Lady's desperately puzzled demeanor.
The Lady collected Quail from the Grandmotherly sort in charge of the church nursery and carried her while Liz pushed the pram.
"Yes. It's so . . . I don't know what's over there, on the other side of that gate. I don't know what my place is. I don't even know if I've got a place."
"Possibly with a man you don't know, don't remember." Liz bit her lip. "You know you can stay here. Forever. You're . . . one of us now."
Lady December, or Rustle, or whatever she was going to call herself, nodded. "I know. And I like everyone here, all of you. But . . . What am I turning away from? What if I remember, later? Who is over there? "
She looked rested and healed. And had spent just a couple of days on horseback. Kurt's scouts were now watching at the end of the Corridor. They reported that there was a good hard track to both the east and the south, just ahead of the Army, and no doubt the general was waiting for new orders before going one way or the other. So the Lady had rested here for two days.
Eve
ryone approved of the Lady's indolence, and she had shrugged and apparently decided to enjoy it. She smiled and waved on her way through the inn, then sprawled on the bed, still careful of her left side. "I think I'll spend the rest of the day playing with the baby. Because, Quail Quicksilver, I haven't been paying nearly as much attention to you as I ought to have been," she told the baby.
Lucy bustled in and chuckled. "Nonsense! She's still little enough to sleep most of the time. And as stubborn as she is, she's made sure you weren't allowed to forget her for too long. Goodness, she's what? Eight weeks old? Nine?"
"Poor baby keeps getting sealed in . . . I think she must be close to four months old, by the calendar." She patted the baby on the back. "I wish I could remember more."
Lucy chuckled. "Like meeting that rather tall fellow? My word. Everyone said he was good looking, and that he had an excellent voice."
The Lady nodded. "How about your school? How are you doing for students?"
"Well, they keep coming back. I don't quite know how I'm going to keep it going, though. I can't run it out of the baron's little dependent's cottage."
"What part of town do you think it would do best in?" The Lady looked out the window. "It's not raining. Let's take a stroll."
Liz shook her head. Two days of rest was apparently all that was going to happen. The Lady caught her eye and grinned like a naughty street urchin.
The other two academies in town were expensive, and located between the big houses in the north east quarter and the big houses outside the east gate.
They turned west, and discussed the merits of being just inside the merchants' district for proximity to the families most likely to want to educate their children, verses just outside the merchants' district where the rents were bound to be lower.
***
Kurt watched the Arbolian army, and speculated. The Arbolian Empire could surely field a larger army. Was there another force in reserve? Or waiting to strike elsewhere once this group had pulled a sizable chunk of Arrival's military in this direction? Or was their Empire shaky? Did they need an Army internally, and could only spare two thousand men to try and flank Arrival and bite off a chunk at a time?
He watched the messengers being sent out now. One headed south down the trail, the other headed east on the hard track. Yes. That one would be carrying messages for another army, or possibly a command post watching the road to Arrival. He ducked back through the Corridor, and sought the lady.
***
December and Phantom shadowed the messenger for eight days before they came back into settled territory. The first villages were small, clusters of a dozen houses and a church, surrounded by fields.
The track from village to village ran into a larger, improved road at a small town. A very minor use of magic got December a hot meal, oats for Phantom and gossip about the army that was up the Tarrington road, and directions.
The Tarrington road cut northeast and met up with the Grand Highway.
"Never been that far myself." The ugly serving girl chattered. "They say it goes from the Place of Arrival all the way south through Lundun and Paree."
"Arrival?" December prodded.
"Oh yes, the army will capture them, and our taxes will be lowered because we won't need an Army any more. It'll all be done with."
"Except for keeping an eye on New Caledonia." December suppressed a smile.
"Oh, well, they still won't need as many soldiers."
She grossly overpaid with a gold coin under an illusion of normalcy, and tipped the girl with another. Hoped it would get her a dowry, and not a noose.
She approached the army with considerable caution. Phantom protested being bubbled, but she needed to scout in a smaller size. She grabbed a bubble, and lashed together a rectangle of saplings to hold the opening open. She whipped frame and bubble over her head, and with a bit of experimentation got the frame suspended on a shoulder yoke so it was a few inches off the ground. If the Priests had dimensional abilities she was going to be in trouble. Otherwise, she was not just invisible, she wasn't actually there. Of course, she couldn't see anything either. She poked a second hole in the bubble and peeked through as she crept past the sentries and scouted around the grounds.
Twenty thousand soldiers. Three clusters of priests.
The Priests showed no signs of sensing her, and she relaxed until she saw the gods.
They were chained to wagons. One was chained alone, a hulking muscular man with three inch long hair standing up on his head and discharging static sparks every time he moved. He was staring at the bubble.
He was glowing like a bonfire, to her mental perception.
The jumble of a dozen dwarves, giants, albinos and clef palates were chained, three to a wagon. Glowing. And they were also following her movements.
Not good.
Or possibly an opportunity.
The priests stayed nearby, in fancy tents. Complete with servants of the scantily clad female variety. In the middle of an army? Were they insane?
She left them for later and approached the largest, most ornate tents. More serving girls for the officers, and at this evening hour they were running about with platters of food and decanters of wine.
She laughed silently. And searched her backpack for a bottle of the Wine of the Gods. She doled it out sparingly, so as to have enough for the common soldier's ale, and the Chained Gods' meager dinners. The gods shifted nervously away as she approached, and she drove a punch under the heavy staples holding them to the wagons and loosened them. They glow, like Quail. That is what people think of magic users, here. Those priests use them. Enslave them and warp them, mentally and physically.
She walked back out as the camp started getting noisier behind her. She made sure that the casks of ale that would be used in the future got a dose of the wine, and dribbled it in the horse feed, and topped off the tired sentries' coffee cups before she jogged off down the road.
She could hear the riot for miles, as Phantom carried her back to the last corridor opening.
She waited another two days in Jeram Town, until Kurt's scouts reported the riot ended but the Army in serious disarray.
Then she decided it was time to leave.
Chapter Twenty-six
Saturday, April 25, 3493 AD
Jeramtown, Arrival
"I need to find out if I can go home. I shouldn't have too much trouble finding the gate."
"December . . . "
"Moxie's yours. And the bank account, I signed off on the declaration in the back. Don't ever let yourself be completely financially dependent."
"December!"
"I made a corridor for Kurt. I think he can take it all the way to this Arrival. So you can come back easily, if Arrival doesn't suit you. Hopefully with Kurt."
"December!"
"I can't raise Quail here. She'd be so alone, one of a kind. A freak. Or perhaps a magnet for those Arbolian priests. I can't risk her, if there's a safe place for her, a place where she'll be accepted as normal, not the Dark Lady's magical and dangerous child."
"December . . . "
"It makes a better tale, anyway. 'And then the Dark Lady rode off into the sunset.' Don't you think?"
"I think it's midday, and that if you can't live there, you'd best come back and live here." Liz gave her a fierce hug, stood back to let her mount, then handed Quail up.
Everyone watched in silent respect as she rode out. She tried to ignore the tears, the soldiers coming to attention, and the people who crowded the wall to watch her ride away.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Friday, May 8, 3493 AD, Arrival
Spring, 1376 PE, Comet Fall
Two weeks northwest of Jeramtown December thought she heard someone call her name. The other name. "Rustle." Out loud, it still sounded awkward. There was no one in sight. She jittered nervously, but forced herself to ride on.
Phantom flung up his head and looked due west. Ears pricked and prancing. December followed his lead, and two hills o
ver stopped Phantom at the crest to watch the even larger and blacker horse gallop up the other side. The god was wearing ordinary clothes, tan breeches and high brown boots, a tan shirt and a hairy vest. The horse halted nose to nose with Phantom. The horses traded snorts, conversing in soft grunts, nickers, subtle changes in head orientation and ear flicks.
The man, the god, swung off the horse, dropped to the ground. On foot, he was probably not quite seven foot tall. He was broad shouldered, muscular and moved with smooth assurance.
She shifted uncertainly. "Wolf?" She slid down off Phantom.
The god's smile lit up. "Oh good. I was beginning to fear you had forgotten me altogether."
"No. I have little bits and pieces of memories scattered about. I know who you must be, but I don't recognize you. I don't know my own name. Quicksilver was embroidered on some things, so I used that as the first brick to try and build on." She turned back to Phantom, and lifted Quail from the saddlebag.
The god smiled. "I was afraid to ask. May I?"
She held the baby out, and the God's huge hands cradled the little girl. "Little Quicksilver, I should have known you long before this." The giant looked not at all threatening, tiny babe cuddled against his chest.
"You are Rustle Neverdaut, Sister of the Full Moon of the Pyramid of Mount Frost, except when you are being the Eldest Sister of the Pyramid of Rip Crossing. Never is a Waning Half witch, very powerful, very well trained, and very smart. Through your mother's father you are the great granddaughter of King Rebo of Western. Your father is Dydit Twicecutt, formerly the Duke of High Top in Scoone, who is currently hovering between being one of the most powerful wizards in the World, and qualifying as a god.
"You have two sisters, Obsidian and Topaz. You have a half brother, Havi.
"Witches do not marry. They do not acknowledge the control, or even the influence of a man. So I'm not actually your husband. You have Xen, your six year old son, and now Quicksilver. I am the father of both.
