A Taste of Wine (Wine of the Gods Book 7) Read online

  A Taste of Wine

  Pam Uphoff

  Copyright © 2012 Pamela Uphoff

  All Rights Reserved

  ISBN

  978-0-9839469-8-4

  This is a work of fiction. All characters and

  events portrayed in this book are fictional.

  Any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Author's note

  Temple

  Reunions

  Archmage

  Comet Horse

  Rumors

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Life With Hell

  Comet Fever

  About the Author

  Other Titles by the Author

  Author's note

  In the course of editing manuscripts, I often find that I put in scenes that, while fun in and of themselves, distract the reader from the flow of the overall story or add needless complications and confuse the reader. But, having written them, they continue to exist in my head and occasional references to those events sneak into the further episodes of the characters.

  "What happened to Ba'al's temple?" my readers cry. "What's this? Two characters named Lebonift? Surely they're related!" Not to mention the enthusiastic fans of Oscar and Bran . . .

  And so three scenes that I'd cut have been dragged out and cleaned up, and told to behave like short stories, along with four stories that were written as stories.

  Enjoy!

  Temple

  1359—several years after The Black Goats

  "We must find you a suitable husband."

  Never's eyes rose to meet those of the old man. "Witches do not marry."

  "You are my granddaughter, many men will be well pleased to marry you. I must think about who is good enough for you."

  It was a simple family dinner with the king. Which meant Crown Prince Leano and Princess Nez, Prince Fossi who appeared to be biting a knuckle under cover of wiping his mouth, her father, General Rufi Negue, four cousins she hoped to never meet again, the President of the Council, two other Councilmen, the head of the Merchant's Association who was an old friend of the king's, and several young nobles who were now eyeing Never hungrily. Her friends were variously concealing their expressions. They'd come to town to talk to the government people about a detailed survey of the New Lands. And wound up with this.

  Never was getting a bit irritated by these new found male relatives who seemed to think they owned her.

  "Charter of the West. Section five. Civil Rights. 'Marriages are between consenting adults. The State shall not register any union based on force, coercion or where either of the parties is below the age of sixteen.' I am sorry, Grandfather, but I will not marry."

  The old man snorted. He was a vigorous and healthy eighty-nine years old. "Nonsense. You don't want to be a dried up old hag, you should have children."

  "And so I shall, when and if I wish." She could see Rufi bracing himself, and stopped herself there. Not just because of my reputation. These men might try to control Rustle as well, and even a diabolically clever six year old can be bent.

  Across the table, Question was observing the dance of manners and the relationships between nobles, noblewomen, master craftsmen, military and servants like a scientist studying an alien species. She'd said earlier that it was appalling, and obviously designed to defend status in a powerless society. Lefty was minding his manners, watching Rufi and the King and ignoring everyone else so thoroughly that he was making the nobles nervous about his actual status. Dydit had been looking amused. Now he was glowering a bit.

  "No granddaughter of mine is going to have a bastard!"

  "Charter of the West. Section five again. 'Legitimacy of birth for the purpose of inheritance of titles and property shall be according to local custom, and not dictated by outside cultures.' By local culture no child of mine will be illegitimate, nor am I, or my mother, illegitimate."

  "Are you implying that Rufi married your grandmother?"

  "Certainly not! She'd never do such an appalling thing as marry. And that is our local custom. Witches. Do. Not. Marry."

  Down the table some of the young nobles tittered. The old man glowered. "We will speak privately on this matter." He turned to his other guests, looking disapprovingly at Dydit. Never suspected that it was his proximity to Never that was the problem. Dydit's table manners were certainly acceptable, and his conversation intelligent and interesting. "So, tell me, 'Duke of High Top,' how does this compare to an intimate dinner in ancient Scoone?"

  "I'm afraid it's horribly tame by Old Scoone standards, Sire. There, the king and nobles would have all been wizards and a minimum of three attempts at murder would be expected at such a dangerously intimate dinner. Really, the failure of anyone to even try to slip anything into my wine is making me feel quite snubbed."

  That raised more snickers, but an equal number of skeptical sneers. Dydit had declined to lie about his past, but the truth was not believed by most of the audience. Of course they probably didn't believe in the Old Gods either, so Dydit was in good company.

  Never turned to her other side, where the President of the Council sat. "So, Lord Justin, how do you prioritize mapping the New Lands?"

  "At this point, as a waste of tax moneys. No one wants to live out there, five out of six Land Grants have lapsed as the pioneers gave up and came home. Although some surveying north of the Southern Divide may be necessary soon, as the people of those little mining towns shift when ore veins run out."

  There were too many nodding heads around the table. Never wondered why she'd even tried to budge these stubborn people.

  Rufi nodded. "Good point, about the mining towns. Perhaps I can assign some surveyors to the Army units out there on bandit patrol, and they can survey any areas that are attracting the interest of the miners. And I suppose a mining claim registry office would be a good idea as well. A couple of clerks could divert a lot of acrimony and court cases if not out-and-out violence."

  The Manufacturer's Representative nodded. He, like the Merchant's Representative, held a seat on the Council in the name of his Association, much to the consternation of the nobles. The Council had always been composed of the Dukes and Governors of the Provinces and the King's four appointments. But the Charter held provisions for representatives from every city over fifty thousand persons, and for professional guilds and associations with over fifty thousand members. A Karista representative had been added fifty years ago. But now in the last twenty years, the Council had been forced to accept another thirteen representatives, all rotating elected posts frequently filled by commoners. It wasn't sitting well with the eleven Dukes. The one Governor was trying to stay neutral, making the unbalance of old and new worse.

  "That steady trickle of gold, copper, tin, and diamonds is a valuable resource. Certainly worth supporting."

  Lord Justin looked sourly at the fat little commoner and nodded agreement.

  Never kept quiet for the remainder of the dinner.

  Her discussion the next day with the king was short and acrimonious. She packed and walked out on foot. When an escort back to the Palace caught up, she warped light around herself and kept going invisibly. She was past caring about insults and lea
ving the City without the King's permission was about as mild a declaration of independence as she was capable of.

  Question popped up at her elbow before she'd gotten through the Old Town Gate. "The King's all huffy and put out. Rufi said that at least you didn't burn anything down or turn his men into goats. Lefty and Dydit are going to stay to finalize at least some sort of effort at mapping. It appears that nothing will be done this summer, but perhaps by next winter the Army engineers could start in the south and map northward."

  "Well, they do have a point. It's all rock and heat. Not even for a promise of a title will people actually pay good money for useless stone. The King insists a newly minted Lord do something with his Land Grant to earn that title." She shook her braided hair back and walked on. They'd come down by river barge, and planned to buy horses for the trip back. Perhaps tomorrow, once they were out of town. Today she just wanted to be out of the City and breathing free air. The two women gathered a fair number of looks, but their air of competency and ground covering strides were enough to discouraged most people from approaching them. The few that did found themselves changing their minds and wandering off. Only one was strong willed enough to grab Never. She pulled energy from him and left him collapsed and shaky on the ground as they kept walking. A clean inn on the outskirts looked like a good place for dinner.

  "We can ask about horses as well." Never walked in the dining room door.

  Question shrugged as she followed. "I'd as soon walk. But if I can find a nice mare for Dad, it'll be worth the complications."

  ***

  "We've seen the grass strips on the ash ridges out there. I think you could get sufficient ranchers out there part time to show a profit. But then the old lords would scream about the new lords being the lowest of commoners." Dydit smirked a bit.

  Rufi nodded. "Quite. Well, the four of you have managed an impressive amount of coverage. The Army can tie into your maps, and get down to more detailed surveying. If I hustle them, they can start in the south while it's cool. For now, Lefty, take some leave, confer with your colleagues, and tell me what you think you should be mapping next. And do pass on a frown to Never, who appears to have shaken the mud of Karista and Royal relationships off her boots and headed for home already."

  Dydit shook his head. "You can't control a witch. The harder you try, the more likely she'll just not come back. I'd recommend you take her as she is, a powerful and independent adult. May I recommend that instead of a frown, you send your thanks to her for coming to visit?"

  Rufi eyed him. "I've been thinking about finding her a husband."

  Dydit shook his head, pityingly. "Some people just have to find out the hard way. I won't quote the Charter at you. It's when she drops the legalities that it will get dangerous. So choose someone you don't like, he's unlikely to survive the ceremony." Dydit turned away and mounted the black mare he'd bought early that morning. "Thank you for the hospitality and the opportunity to talk about the New Lands with the powers that be."

  Lefty and the General exchanged salutes and Lefty mounted a pretty brown mare and followed Dydit out of the Palace grounds.

  "Find her a husband!" Dydit growled.

  "She took that comment a lot more calmly than I'd expected. Quoting the Charter at the King!" Lefty grinned. "Do you think we'll be able to catch up with them?"

  "I don't know if I want to, until Never's gotten over being treated like a pretty but imbecilic child."

  ***

  The music was loud, the drums thumping as she danced around the smoky campfire. Never leaned to kiss Dydit and he turned into a goat and . . .

  "Never, wake up." Question's voice was hushed despite the note of panic under it. "Wake up!"

  Oh, damn, what was the goat about to do? The music . . .

  "Never!" Not panic. Fear.

  Her eyes opened on a very unfamiliar room. Large. Fire lit. Noisy. She blinked in incomprehension. The music thumped. They'd been sitting at a table at an Inn two days east of Karista, an excellent dinner, some wine that was almost good enough to be the Auld Wulf's . . . "What was in that wine?"

  "A p, present from Baal." Question was laying next to her.

  She was naked. So was Never, hands and feet bound.

  She turned her head, and saw the rest of the room. The music and the dancing had made it into her dream. Fortunately the statue of Baal hadn't. It must be one of the hollow ones, so a fire could be lit inside it. It was so hot it was glowing.

  She reached frantically for power and couldn't find any. They were up on a platform of some sort. Wooden. A raised platform that gave access to the statue, that towered over the room on a black marble pillar.

  She took a long steadying breath, then turned her head to the girl's ear. "Question, you are a wizard. You can suck that heat and fire in, you can shield and shunt. It cannot hurt you." She put all of her conviction into it.

  Question shivered. "Can you?"

  "No, I'm going to have to shield as best I can, without a source."

  "Take it from me, like you did while I was learning. If I'm empty I can hold more."

  Never had a sudden idea of what to do with the power, and drew on the girl. ::Dydit! Ba'al!:: She shoved the power into a mental shout.

  Question winced at the volume. "Do you think they're still in town?"

  "Probably. They had more to talk about." Never looked at the glowing statue, twice the size of a man. The statue was seated, a man both muscular and fat, the plate was at chest height, held by Ball's arms, high enough to expose Baal's six testicles and erect phallus. The long flat plate was glowing with the heat. Surely they wouldn't actually . . .

  The dancers were twirling flails, and not mock ones. They had blood running down their arms where the hooks on the chains had grazed. And as the music crescendoed, they braced the flails against the ground and crouched down, positioning the handles, and shoving themselves down on them.

  "Did they just do what I think they did?" Question said.

  "Yeah. Gave their virginity to Baal." Never shrank back as the heat distortion around the statue made it look like it was breathing. The music started up again. An ominous slow thumping of the drums, an eerie wailing flute.

  Men in golden cloth, their loins strapped to minimize their privates, hooded and armed with flails marched in slow step to the music, climbing the ramp, circling the two women. A flail flicked out stinging her arm, then the man pulled and the hooks caught and ripped though her skin, sending waves of pain through her. Once to her left arm, once to thigh, then she was rolled over and the skin of her other arm and leg was torn. She heard Question scream once, and then muffled whimpers, was aware that her jaw was clenched, stifling her own cries.

  Then her bonds were cut, and she was lifted, tossed up on the men's raised arms and paraded around the platform, dripping blood, as the drums boomed and drowned out all other sounds as the pace quickened. Silence fell like a shock.

  Question screamed as they threw her onto the statue's plate.

  Never ripped power from the men touching her. She landed awkwardly in a heap of limp men and scrambled toward the statue and the screams. And stopped.

  It moved.

  It stood up, dropping the plate but holding Question. She writhed in its grip, burning. Not as badly as a non-wizard would have been, but her control was imperfect, and she was starting to glow with the overload.

  It's made of metal, I can form it.

  She concentrated on the hand around Question's arm, pulling it back. It didn't move, it wasn't metal. Whatever its appearance.

  Baal took the girl in both hands and lowered her. Question desperately braced her legs. Never heard something snap and Question screamed, tried to get one leg braced, but was pushed down onto the glowing phallus. She shrieked one last time and Never heaved at the smell of burning flesh.

  The statue stood, throwing the limp girl negligently aside. Never leaped forward and caught her, flinching from the heat as she cushioned Question's fall, pulled power from her and
shielded both of them. The statue took a step toward them, and the wooden platform flashed into flame around its foot and shivered under the weight. The fire was racing along the decorative hangings. As the platform started collapsing, Never dragged Question around the statue to the black marble pillar, scrambling to find room amid the treasures heaped around the throne. The glowing metal monster turned, and the platform broke loose and collapsed. It rode the flaming platform down and stepped out on to the floor where its worshippers had prostrated themselves.

  It ignored the twelve dancers that had given themselves to Baal. Stepped toward another group of women. Question whimpered, under her hands, and Never closed her eyes and concentrated on healing spells for burns. She tried to not listen, to not hear the screams, both male and female, as something that had once been a man sought power from its followers.

  Never reached for Earth, and it was there. The pillar they were on reached all the way to the stone beneath the city. Healing spells. Burns. The girl was horribly burned. Worse inside than out. Dying. A whisper of displaced air, and before she could strike, Dydit was kneeling beside her, wineskin in hand. "Try this."

  "No," Question whimpered. "I'd rather die than have that thing's baby."

  Dydit blinked at her in shock. "What would Lefty say to that? Look what he lived through. Are you going to let him be a better man than you?" He wasn't wearing anything but the wineskin, and Never wondered if he'd been running around in goat form.

  Never held her breath.

  "He didn't, he didn't have to ever fear bearing a child he would hate." the girl whispered.

  Dydit reached across Never and put a hand on her blistered and oozing belly. Closed his eyes for a long moment. "I don't see any life in there. I don't think that thing is alive enough to engender a baby." He looked green. Never understood; the smell of cooked intestines and feces was coming from a charred pit on the girl's belly. She shouldn't even be alive. She wouldn't be much longer, wizard or not.