by Pam Uphoff
They must not get the power!
The Joker was still down. Three other priests arguing over him, so he must not be dead.
Warric sprayed as he ran past. Dodged around a decorative fountain . . . slowed to take in the situation.
Far right, a sea of red surrounding four Major Gods.
Straight ahead, Temple Priest Notcher and a yellow-robed initiate were surrounded by Little Gods. Two lay on the ground. Drained or dead. An Albino sank to the ground, weakening as Notcher pulled power.
Marius, Trace, and Storm faced him . . . backing away.
The Little Gods . . . no status, but they all have the mage gene, they are all potentially as powerful as we Major Gods are. Just as well the Priests just snatch them temporarily, else the Church would be as all powerful as they claim.
Warric sprinted forward. I will not stop now! Even if I have to burn them all, this stops today!
A dwarf ran up behind the initiate, a club in hand.
The initiate turned and stared at the dwarf. Held out his hand and the dwarf just handed it to him.
Good try. Too bad . . .
The initiate turned as he lifted the club and brought it down on Notcher's head.
Warric jolted to a halt. Marius and Trace rode up beside him.
The dwarf hustled up beside the initiate. "Don't touch him! Don't you . . . Dammit, they aren't all bad! Herby helps when he can . . . You!" He pointed at Trace. "You owe me! Worst damn shield in the world, sausage man! You, you make them leave him alone!"
Marius laughed out loud. "Done. Herby? Take off that robe so no one gets the wrong idea."
Warric blinked, nodded. Trace was weaving in his saddle, but not bleeding too badly in too many places . . . "Trace, stay here. If Notcher's alive . . . bash him if he starts to regain consciousness. Marius, Storm? We've got a minor bit of cleanup to do . . . "
The priests were huddled together, frantic . . . Warric softened his shields enough . . . "They got sprayed. All four of the gods." He raised his voice. "Surrender, and you will live. Try to hook one of us, and you die."
While they were watching him, Marius walked his limping horse upwind and sprayed the priests.
They surrendered.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Aftermath
"You four guards go into the Exalted's house and raid the wine cellar. Bring all that you can carry." Warric stared at them as they hesitated. "I can use a spell of compulsion. Would you prefer that?"
They moved.
The friendly gods gathered around him.
Warric braced himself. "First we're going to finish removing the priests' power genes, then we're going to heal everyone." He glanced toward the hundred foot wide circle of charred ground . . . and bodies. The largest . . . He just wanted an adventure. I'm sorry Jabberwocky. You were incredible.
He'd killed the God of Hatred. The God of the Hunt. And both Gluttony and Drunk had died in the battle. Joker and Ocean would probably recover. But then what? Can I get them back to normal?
He put that aside, and started sorting out the prisoners.
Warric threw the Anti-Chain spell on the gods . . . who barely noticed. At least they weren't violent.
At some point he realized that Trill, Cactus, and Kevi were circulating with healing wine and spells.
"I'm taking the power genes off anyone Marius doesn't recognize." Kevi gulped as he looked around the shambles of the park. "You can figure out who to give a normal mage gene to, later."
"So does this count as stealing a country?"
"Aiding and abetting a religious coup. Not really my thing . . . umm, back when I rescued Cactus? I was actually here to steal these powders, all colors . . . what are they?"
Warric gulped. "Radioactive. Very dangerous. They use them in ceremonies to add power. They . . . expose pregnant women to them, to increase the likelihood of a birth defect."
"To make more Little Gods. Old Gods! That's hideous."
The sausage dwarf heard that as he walked by and kicked Kevi's ankle.
"Ow! Sorry."
Sausage turned and glared. "What did you do with the powders?"
"Stuck them in a bubble. Stuck the bubble out in the desert a thousand miles from here."
"Huh. Damn near sensible." The dwarf walked off, a bottle of wine in either hand.
Warric rubbed his face. "We need to do something about the women and children."
This time it was Trill who overheard. "You know those women Lord and Lady Menchuro bankroll to help the women they kick out of here? When Lord Menchuro left, he sent them to get all the help they could find. They've taken over the women's quarters and they're talking to the mothers in the Little Gods' yard."
"Excellent." Two problems dealt with. He started forward as a Little God leered at Trace.
A twitch of her fingers and the Albino god flinched back and moved away.
Trill's a witch now. Powerful . . . I hope Mom and Dad approve, because I'm going to marry her.
The priests and initiates were dosed with the healing wine with the power removal spell added. And locked in the Little Gods' quarters.
The gods, major and minor, took over the priests' quarters.
Warric and company took over the Exalted's mansion. Storm, with great reluctance, was persuaded to join them.
Kevi cheerfully sliced and removed the heavy locking doors—and doorways—to the Major Gods' former luxurious prison cells in their former master's homes.
"And I was paying attention while Rustle worked you over." Kevi grinned. "So, let's see about returning you lads to normalcy, eh?"
It was midnight before Warric dragged wearily out to the front gate. He'd turned off his illusions, and donned a red robe. Only a small squad of soldiers was camped in front of their gate.
Warric blinked at them in surprise. A hastily roused officer approached cautiously.
"We had reports of . . . a problem here."
"Yes. I regret to say that one of the upper level priests attempted to usurp the Exalted's position. We have him under arrest, and the gods that got loose from the priests' care have been . . . recovered." Warric looked at the document in his hands. "We have a report for the Emperor . . . why the frown? What has happened?"
"The Emperor is dead. He suffered a heart attack earlier today."
"Oh . . . " Warric blinked. Surely the Exalted's death didn't cause . . . was the Emperor a Major God? Hooked and controlled, but not morphed in any way? Is that the secret of the Temple's influence? He shook himself a little. "I am devastated by that news. I . . . will inform . . . The Exalted was killed by the traitor. I will inform the . . . Temple Priest . . . well, he's in charge . . . I will inform him."
They both looked at the packet in Warric's hands.
"Is there someone in charge of the Administration? Obviously we will be choosing the next Exalted tomorrow . . . "
The officer shrugged. "All we hear is rumors about half the Ministers trying to make themselves emperor."
"Heh." Warric shrugged. "Perhaps . . . you ought to report that the problem in the Temple has been settled, and we'll all figure out how to muddle through tomorrow?"
The officer grinned. "Muddle through?"
"Umm, I suppose I ought to be all lofty and say we will send someone to speak to the ministers tomorrow."
Grin. "That's the ticket. Never talk common to them."
Warric couldn't think of a way to ask about his dad, so he nodded to the officer and retreated. He told the guards to close the gate and bar it.
Anyone trying to capture a Temple Priest and control the selection is going to get a nasty shock!
A stammering servant with a basket of food hovered on the doorstep.
Food? I'm starving and . . . dare not eat anything but the bread.
"Bring more bread, and sealed jars of jams and preserves." Warric took the basket and walked inside.
"You'd make an excellent Exalted High Priest." Warric eyed the man. Kevi had removed the electricity, and a few other
oddities.
Jared Barret, formerly the God of Storms, would never look ordinary—he was simply too tall, too broad-shouldered, too magically strong to ever not draw the eye. Even with his blonde hair lying down, neatly combed.
He made an irritated sound in his throat and grabbed pen and paper again.
"You're one of the oldest gods, the strongest of all of us. I'm too young to get any respect. The other gods will be the Temple Priests . . . the sane gods . . . and some of the little gods, too." Warric craned his head to read . . .
And if my voice doesn't come back quickly enough?
"We're the Temple. We can make the Ministers wait for us." Warric grimaced. "I haven't heard from Dad. And he's a country lord, not a minister, so they probably aren't listening to him."
More writing, forceful strokes tearing the paper.
Warric read . . . "Gods no! No hook in the Emperor. That . . . that's one practice that has to go, for sure."
A snort from the sausage dwarf. "I think we ought to have some perks. What are you going to do with the temple, once you have your puppet up in the high seat?"
They both glared at him.
Warric shook his head. "I think the temple needs to take care of the gods, the women, those young priest candidates who are now without any power. Keep everyone alive, free, and as you can determine their sanity, give them a normal mage gene."
"Yeah, Herby is delighted. He can pull power from the air, from the heat, and do things without hurting anyone. It's going to be a while before I trust any of the others, though. Even the kids. They're raised to be hideous little snots and not see us as people."
Warric nodded. "I think we need a show trial. We need a believable story."
Sausage grinned. "The God of the Sun escaped. Notcher captured him, lied and said he'd escaped. Kept him hidden until he was ready to strike!"
Now Storm, Jared rather, was writing.
Warric read it . . . "Ah. I killed two other controlling priests, so two other gods got loose. Notcher was knocked unconscious, and the three of us went on a killing spree. A lot of both priests and gods dead. All the Gods are under control now." Warric snickered. "Shall we line up . . . probably in the cathedral, since the main court is well charred . . . and put on a show with all of us except Jared here with illusions and obviously well behaved and under control? I can put some illusions on some Albinos and Rabbits, so they look like familiar priests."
Sausage snorted. "But what about Notcher?"
"Oh, I'm sure he'll rave about how it was a revolt of the gods and he had nothing to do with it, he was defending the Exalted and so on. Who's going to believe him?" Warric shrugged. "We'll find him guilty, strip him of his rank and toss him naked out the gate."
They all looked at him in disbelief.
"After we start a few rumors about how suspicious it was that the Emperor died at the same time."
The dwarf eyed him. "You think they'll kill him?"
"Yes. His only hope is to get to one of the smaller temples in another city. And I'm not sure they'll believe him."
Warric smiled. "I think I've worked out a spider spell. It'll seek out the priest gene and turn it into a normal mage gene. He won't know he's carrying it like a contagious disease. All the priests, as we release them, will be . . . infected, so to speak."
They all nodded.
"We'll think about it." Sausage was tapping his fingers on the arm of a chair.
Warric grinned. "I see your Exaltedness has already acquired his chief adviser."
Sausage snorted. "That isn't you?"
"No. I think the main revolutionary needs to leave and let you guys get on with it."
They both crossed their arms and stared at him.
"It?" Sausage prompted.
"Reforming the church, the temple. Now you've already got a women's hospital . . . but it needs some serious upgrades. A place women in trouble can come to. Talk to those women who scoop up the mothers and babies as they're kicked out the side door. They probably have a good idea of what is needed."
"And what about the little kids? The Little Gods?"
"Their choice. Open the gates and let them come and go at will. Same with the former priests' families. You'll need a school. Talk to the House of Wisdom about teachers. That will do for the short term, but long-term you need to train people to use their magical abilities, and to be responsible about it. If that becomes a problem, you'll need . . . oh, a magical police force? Something like that." Warric shrugged. "I will stay in touch, but I don't think the rebel who's going to be blamed for a lot of deaths ought to be part of the leadership here."
Storm finally nodded. And started writing again.
Internal hearing for the priests and initiates. Some will be expelled with no power. Some will be given the mage gene.
A new emperor must be chosen and approved. Warric, find your father, I will need his recommendation on that.
The guards . . . hearings. Expel the cruel. Hire the others for security.
He glanced over at Warric. Wrote more.
Some of them deserve to die for what they have done to us over the years. Decades. We will not have a bloodbath, but some will be executed.
Warric hesitated . . . nodded. "Yes. The priests who killed Little Gods, drained them deliberately. I was only here a few years, but I saw murder done . . . gleefully."
So take that packet to the palace and find someone in charge. Find your father.
This time he used an illusion of servant's garb and ducked out the kitchen side door. He was happy to see new supplies being unloaded. Bread and water was getting a bit boring already.
Breesdon House was a modest mansion for Paree. He didn't know the staff here, but Dad's old butler was two steps behind the doorman, and let a very undignified yelp escape when he spotted Warric. He elbowed the big muscular doorman aside and dragged Warric in.
"Close the door, Felix. You did not see this man."
Then his mother walked in, dropped all formality and cried all over him.
"Is Dad all right? We're fine, just . . . a little fraught with organizing things . . . "
"Drew's fine, where is Marius? I got a note from Trill hours ago . . . "
Then his dad arrived from the palace . . .
Warric gave them the whole story.
"So . . . we'll have a former Major God in control of the Temple. We'll gradually . . . get normal. And get magical training. If the Emperor needs help, we'll be there. Well . . . they will be there. I'll be exiling myself. I suspect Marius, Trace, and Trill will return to Embassy to continue their studies . . . I'll probably be with them."
His mother nodded, a slight twinkle in her eyes. "No doubt to satisfy your academic curiosity. Nothing to do with a very attractive young lady in the crew. I will note, however, that while a Prince Primus marries where and when ordered, a notorious rebel can marry for love."
Warric blinked. "Yes. And I'm going to. If Trill will have me."
Grins and hugs all around.
"And . . . " Mother waited until they all shut up and looked at her. "I suspect the Emperor—once they pick one—is going to need a new ambassador to Embassy. Drew? I think you should put yourself forward as an able replacement."
Then the third morning.
Medium red robe. Snotty expression. What more did he need? Just enough of an illusion to not be recognizable. More chin, plumper cheeks, brown eyes, neatly styled black hair. I hope mine grows back. And that I got it the same as last night.
The army squad outside the doors had been augmented. The friendly officer of the night stood beside his glowering superior. A major by the insignia on the uniform.
"I bear a letter from the Exalted High Priest Jared Barret to the Council of Ministers." Warric maintained his snooty expression. Behind him the gates were opening wider. A clatter of hooves from a team of horses pulling an official Church carriage, the Cross and Crescent seal on the door. "Would you like to escort me?"
Oops! Ought to have made that a d
emand.
The carriage stopped behind them. Trace driving, Herby, back in his initiate's yellow robe, stepping out and holding the door for Warric. Two mounted guards. Stiff faced and silent, halting behind the carriage.
I'll release the control spells when this is over. Or settled down. It probably won't be over for decades.
The Major pulled his gaze away from the gutted court building he could see through the gate, and ordered up a mounted escort and joined Warric in the carriage. "I am Major Beau Tomsen, Parree Brigade, First Army."
"Major. My pleasure. I am Senior Priest Warren Astron, this is my aide Initiate Herbah Franklin."
"I . . . don't recall meeting you before, nor hearing of this Jared Barret." The Major was frowning at him. "I'm surprised Notcher wasn't chosen."
"Ah. I regret to say that Harold Notcher was a bit too eager to become the Exalted. I fear . . . well, we'll hold a trial, but there are many eye witnesses to his leadership role in the assassination of the Exalted."
A hiss from the major. "I had heard, but doubted. But why an unknown priest, why an unknown messenger?"
"We are unknown because we are both more academically inclined, and until the events of yesterday, quite content to be obscure. The Council of Priests decided that a leader with fewer political ambitions would be advisable. Jared was reluctant, but answered as the gods required."
Major Tomsen sniffed. "And pulled you in with him?"
"He thought that sending a priest with a history of adversarial meetings with the Council of Ministers would be less than diplomatic, at this time."
The Palace being just two miles from the Temple, Trace steered the horses to the curb as the escort halted. Herby opened the door, stepping out and holding it open.
The Major frowned. We ought to have a pair of footmen. Too bad.
Warric looked ruefully over at the Major. "The servants are . . . Well, I decided to do without them today. At least the grooms weren't hiding under their beds."
"Must have been exciting. All from one loose god?"
