Wine of the Gods 08: Dark Lady (20 page)

"Jeram State goes on another hundred miles. The next state, if I were to authorize a territory, would start there and go on for three hundred miles to the West, and roughly five hundred north to south. We haven't surveyed up north to check the ice movement in about twenty-five years."

"Sounds good. If I settled about in the middle, I'd be roughly two hundred and fifty miles from Jeramtown, and twenty-five hundred or so from Arrival."

"You've thought it out."

"Yep. This is what I want."

"I'm not sure about your choice of wife, though. I don't know a thing about her."

"Knowing you, that will change rapidly."

"Damn right." The King sighed. "Damn it boy, you were the brightest of my sons. The best at damn near everything."

"I'm still the same person, however you're having trouble dealing with it. Most likely you'd have never seen me again, might have gotten a letter now and then about grandchildren. Although from what I heard when I was down there, I'm not even sure they mean the same thing as we do by 'Princess,' especially these Princess Primuses."

"I know the Arbolians are rumored to have some bizarre customs . . . Damn it, I needed that treaty, and they wanted you. I thought they'd value you."

"No doubt the Royals would have. It was only the rest of the Empire that didn't like the idea of declaring an Arrival a Prince Primus."

"It wasn't as though you were truly in the line of succession."

"But Princess Primus Augusta's first mongrel son would have been roughly number five, which isn't far enough down for comfort. It's over Father, let's live with today. So, you seem to be liking the idea of a territory. What name should we give it? Western Hills is descriptive, but unexciting."

"Hmph, well we generally like it that way. Jeram is so—well, Jeremy and Amy Weigh, the first Baron's parents—but it's meaningless to everyone else. Western Hills isn't too bad, actually. Maybe a fancier name for your first town."

"How about Charliesville? Honor the ancestor?"

"Charliesville. Now that I like. Yes, that's good." He frowned at a farm they were passing. The farmer had two oxen out in the field, plowing. "A month behind, aren't they? Bad timing, really bad."

"There's worse off. The farms the Arbolians looted before we got to them are going to be hurting come next winter. We were very careful about keeping accounts of who owned what, as we confiscated it, and made sure everyone paid for what they got from us and the farmers got paid in turn. With the siege so short, we've got plenty. The new Baron will just have to figure out how to keep the looted farmers fed, and the farms productive." He looked over to find his father smiling at him.

"You just sort of took this place over, didn't you? That's why you want your own."

"Yes, partially."

As the town came into view on the horizon, they began to see evidence of the Arbolians. The camps and the ash heaps of watch fires, the broad paths formed by many marching feet. A few burned buildings. The east gate area was a wreck. A number of large prosperous homes had been ransacked, including the baronial mansion. The king's squad was busy, and the sergeant trotted out. He was a long time friend and companion of the King. "Nother two hours we'll have it fit for habitation. The Baroness took one look and removed herself and about half the staff to a house in town. The next Baron can deal with this mess, she says."

Kurt nodded. "She's probably feeling a bit orphaned, just now. Would you like a tour of the town, sire? And lunch at the tavern where I've been staying?"

"Certainly."

Kurt led him to the center of the town, pointing out the Exchange, the market . . .

"What the . . . What are all those doors?"

Kurt turned to look at the warehouse wall, and grinned. Most of the doors were wide open on this nice day. "Oh yes this is very interesting. Where's the Bishop?"

Kurt dismounted and stretched, then leaned against a blank spot in the wall while the newcomers all examined them, trotting from door to door to see how they could possibly fit.

"Don't forget to look inside the warehouse," he called to the Bishop.

Much pacing out of distances followed.

He spotted Liz in the crowd of curious and amused onlookers, and edged over to her. "He likes the idea of giving me a territory. He is less enthusiastic about me marrying this completely unknown daughter of Jameson's, who, by the way is here."

"Here?" Her voice squeaked and her eye searched the crowd of overdressed nobles.

"On the left, the man in the green coat with his arms crossed."

"Mother and Father had a fight yesterday. He took the baron's horses back to the manor, she stayed in the new house. She's got classes again today, and Mrs. White came back and minded the babies while she taught."

"Did Lonnie find you? And
how are the littler kids doing?"

Her eyes lit up. "The brat certainly was surprised by the reception he got. Do all fifteen year olds think they are abused and unwanted? Anyway, the other kids are . . . a bit ambivalent about the whole thing. 'Why didn't Mama tell us she'd been married before?' sort of complaints."

"We'll see what the Bishop does with what I've told him. I have this hideous feeling of starting a wagon rolling down the hill out of control, and whether we'll stop safely on the flats or crash halfway is pretty much out of our hands now."

She nodded.
Tossed her head. "I suspect I'd be a horrible mistress, though."

"I suspect I'd
sneak you through this 'gate' if we can find it and marry you in the Kingdom of the West. The courts can argue the legality of it all they wish."

She snickered. "Anyway, Moxie is still at the tavern. I'm having to fight an impulse to ride off to the northwest searching for a glowing circle."

He nodded. "Yes. I'm going to have the worst time just . . . riding back to Arrival to arrange the legalities of the territory, and gig the Archbishop if he tarries on that other matter." He straightened abruptly as Jameson came striding over.

The Baron stared down at Liz for a long moment. "Did Lucy name you Elizabeth? We talked about what we'd name our children . . . " His voice quieted. "We had such glorious plans . . . and we let them die."

"Yes, I'm Elizabeth. After your mother, she says. This is going to be a horrible mess. I won't say I have the best of relationships with my . . . stepfather, but he raised me and gave me a herd of little brothers and sisters. My parents aren't on speaking terms at the moment. Mother has a small school, but she says that if she is going to meet you it will be in a public venue."

"A herd?"

"Eight, three sisters and five brothers."

"Lucy has nine children?" He blinked a bit about that. "She did say she wanted a large family. Have they . . . is it a happy marriage? I . . . may be about to make a mess of it."

Liz frowned. "She was always so busy with children, I don't recall her ever talking much to him. They seem . . . fond."

"Which of them are you staying with?" He was frowning.

She crossed her arms and frowned right back. "Mother, at the moment. I was staying with Lady December Quicksilver until she left. Now that the Arbolians are gone, everyone is leaving town. It feels nearly empty."

The King had walked quietly up, and was studying them. Father and daughter faced each other with crossed arms, Liz's red brown braids tidier than Jameson's shag, but the color identical.

"In any case, it's up to the Church to decide." Liz gave him a firm nod.

Jameson tossed his head. "My man of law will be looking over their shoulders. Be sure of it."

Liz tossed her head. "And your Baroness and her people will be looking from the other side. Be sure of that."

"I am sure this is your daughter, Paul." The King interrupted.

"Indeed, sire. Elizabeth, may I present King Mark Alpha of Arrival. Sire, my Daughter Lady Elizabeth Jameson."

"Lady Elizabeth, a pleasure. Kurt, a word please."

"M'lady, Baron." Kurt nodded and walked off with his father.

"So, how many of these rooms that aren't actually there, are there, all over this town?"

"I believe we're down to a couple of hundred, sire. Once someone figured out a way to detach them, most of the farmers took theirs home with them. Very handy for storing grain."

"That's all well and good son, but are they good for storing Bishops? I seem to have lost one."

"I suppose I ought to have warned him about the slow time inside."

"Five other people did. He decided to test it."

"Well, if he doesn't come out in a month or so, I'll try to find the Lady to come and rescue him. She offered to put outside handles on them, before she left, but most people wanted to be able to hide."

"It looked pretty empty. He'll die of thirst in a few days. No?" The King raised a skeptical eyebrow at his head shake.

"No. Poor fellow will think only a few seconds have passed. A slow count of ten inside takes about a day outside. He can get out anytime he wants to."

The King slowly frowned. "I really prefer a lack of magic about my towns."

"Yes, sire."

The brick wall split open and the Bishop stepped out. "I don't see anything uncanny about sealing yourself in one of these rooms. There's no lock of any sort. If the Arbolians had sacked the town they still would have massacred these foolish people." He clapped his hands together as if washing the whole controversy away. "So, which gate did the Arbolian's assault?"

"They started with the south gate, then moved to the north. Oh, and sappers under the west wall." Kurt turned toward their horses. "Allow me to show you the south gate."

The King raised his eye brows at the tower and nearby wall. "Carved from the bedrock, was it? I'm not surprised they gave up and moved to the north."

The Arbolians had taken their little god statues with them. Kurt scratched his jaw and pondered the advisability of letting some things evolve into tall tales and myths. "The north gate is where they tried their demon summoning. I have people scraping the ground to remove all residue of the sand they used. I will have it sent to the University at Arrival, if you think it advisable."

The King snorted, and followed him out the north gate. "I see they were assembling some siege towers."

"Oh, they finished them. The . . . God of War demolished them."

"Who?"

"The God of War. Roger summoned him, but he decided he liked our side better. Umm, Lady December Quicksilver said he was the god from
her
world."

"Quicksilver, Quicksilver. No, never heard of her." The King shook his head and walked his horse out and about the remains of the encampment. The Bishop rode over to the scraping party. The King was frowning again as he returned. "I thought perhaps you were exaggerating when you said two thousand. If they could have taken this little, unimportant town, the rest of the state would have rolled over, and they would have had a clear victory and full supplies to start in on Vista."

"Yes, sir. Jeram's the least populous state, isn't it? There are only eight towns. The Baron's seat is here, but that's Jeramtown's sole claim to importance."

"Yes. If the first word we'd gotten of this
had been from Vista, telling us that the
State
of Jeram had fallen, with a Royal Prince dead or captured, and the baron swearing fealty to Arbolia, and Vista under attack . . . We would have been in a difficult situation, both militarily and politically. As it is we left the Capitol a bit lightly defended."

"I'm astounded you got here so quickly."

"There was a flurry of reports about the Arbolian's army's movements. We called up the barons and got the army ready to roll down the ridge and block them before they could get north of the lake lands and spread out. Then we heard they were moving west, and thought that they might try coming up between Genevieve and Hermione Lakes. Then we worried about being pulled away from Arrival . . . and about then your messenger made it in and we loaded up and headed west as quickly as we could."

The bishop rode back, frowning. "I want those scrapings sent to the university, and the church will need oversight. I will request that the archbishop send an ecclesiastical team out here. Not to mention ordaining a bishop to lead the spiritual community. I can't believe a half trained country preacher is all a Baron's seat has."

"Jeram only achieved statehood eight years ago," Kurt shrugged. "I was impressed with Mr. Richover's ability to research the sand paintings the Priests were making. Quite accurately as events unfolded."

"I can't believe you let this Quicksilver person get away." The King frowned at Kurt.

Kurt parsed out the misapprehensions embodied in the statement and sighed. "
Lady
Quicksilver was here for over a month. We talked extensively about trade. They have a lot of mineral wealth, and have never seen cotton before. She was quite enthusiastic about it.

"Then she rode out to study the Arbolians. She's the one that brought me word of the larger army. She'd, umm, attempted a bit of a disruption, but I don't know if that will make any difference in their decision to attack, or not."