Wine of the Gods 1: Exiles and Gods (23 page)

"Ooo. A God of Celestial Disasters instead of individual ones? How big would his dogs have to be?"

"Dragons. I think they’d have to be dragons, to fly up and drag rocks and fly ice cubes around. You know?"

He blinked. "I know I should have stuck with one bottle of wine."

"Probably sensible." River blinked at her empty plate. She sort of remembered the steak being outstanding. "But too late."

The waiter brought the desert tray around.

"Death by chocolate." She managed to not imagine rubbing it on him and licking it off. Almost.

"Yes, that’s how I’m going to feel tomorrow. Bring two."

They ate, eyeing each other warily as the dinner came to a conclusion. Knees touching. Simon paid the bill and they walked out. He’d picked her up in an open carriage. The two glossy bay mares yawned as he boosted her into the seat.

I can’t take him home to the pyramid . . . will he invite me home?

They stared at each other uncertainly.

"Maybe, maybe we ought to go look at the stars, or comets or whatever from Fuji Point. Sober up a bit, so we don’t do anything either of us might regret, in the morning." Simon looked like he was regretting those words even as he spoke them.

"Hmm, I, yes. Sober up. Good idea, God of Gentlemen."

"Ouch! Are you a Good Little Girl?" Simon hoisted himself into the seat beside her.

"Let’s define ‘Good’ as a starting point." She scooted a bit closer.

"Ooo. Goddess of Double-entendres." He leaned to pick up the reins, and settled back, closer. Touching.

By the time they’d reached the point, she was the "Good" in quotes Goddess and he had decided to be the God of Perverts.

Being far away from anything resembling a bed proved to be no barrier.

The pre-dawn hangover was brutal, the pain spell effective, the embarrassment extreme.

But the goodbye kiss lingered.

Four weeks later, Simon was sipping water at an afternoon reception at the Mayor’s House. And wished he wasn’t reduced to reading lips from across the room, and the body language of the gods and goddesses with their backs to him was even more opaque.

Nods. Shrugs. "We need to keep on top of this."

"…my personal representative…"

"You should go, yourself."

A disagreeing lift of one shoulder and Mercy was turning to summon River with a preemptive gesture. The girl, woman, responded instantly, nodded twice, and departed.

Simon thought about following her, and felt himself blush. And in any case, she was moving with decisive speed. He’d draw too much attention if he tried to catch up with her.
Should have brought the carriage, could have offered her a ride.
He kicked himself mentally. Last thing he needed was for everyone to know he had a fast team at hand.
I am a destitute but brilliant professor.
The gods keeps inviting me to parties because I agree with their vision of what the universities should be indoctrinating their students with. I cannot step out of that role.

But River would know what the gods were all so excited about.

He eased out of the group he’d been pretending to be listening to while reading lips across the room. Thinking invisible thoughts, he ditched his glass and wandered out.

He emptied his mind and let his feet take him wherever his erratic and weak talents desired. Wizardry was very different than the other magics. It consisted of noticing things, of coincidences and luck. Being in the right place, meeting the right people, saying the right thing. All apparently by accident. But at a nearly subconscious level, and erratic at best.

But today it was working, because there was River up ahead of him, talking to two other women . . . passengers from the ship, that girl and her maid, and a stranger. The man glowed a bit, and was smiling at River. Simon dodged behind a fruit stand, and walked behind a fabric booth with hanging swatches of cloth.

"How can you talk about going off with her?" Wailing, hurt, feminine, tones.

River sounded exasperated. "I’m offering him a job, not eloping with him. I need to get a bunch of very fancy camping gear up Mount Tambour to the observatory. It should be a three week trip, each direction."

"Oh, yeah, two months alone together with this silk tent and fancy rugs and cushions and . . ."

"Old Gods! I’m not even going to set it up until we get there. I’ll be bringing a little camping tent for my use, and I assume Mike has something of the sort for himself?"

"Of course. Heidi, it’ll be fine. I need the money,
we
need the money, for next year."

Simon took a peek. The man was good looking, tall and muscular, standing nearer Heidi than her mother would have approved of. Black hair, dark skin . . . Traveler’s Child, which, as a category included not just children, but grand and great grandchildren, plus the little gods that had picked up the archetypical characteristics of the God of the Roads, whether or not they were related to
The
God. This fellow looked like one of Harry's children. The maid was standing back, arms crossed, frowning. Heidi was pouting, and oozed closer to the man.

So. River was taking a silk tent and various fripperies to the observatory. And not for her own use. Heh. Typical of everything he'd read about Mercy. Make the girl do all the work, then the Goddess would teleport up there and harangue the astronomers for whatever information the gods were looking for.

They want to be certain that there will, or will not, be a second comet winter in a row. They can play the market on food stuffs, buy up a lot of the late harvest.
They
don’t have any worries about storage. They’ll be even richer, or more  in control—or both—by next spring.

He eased back and followed River at a distance. Mike departed, Heidi at his side and the maid following. They returned with an open wagon pulled by a pair of horses. Simon eyed the beasts with a horseman’s eye. Not youngsters, but good strong animals. If they kept the load light, they’d have no problem getting up the mountain.  River started loading the wagon immediately. Large rolls of fabric, rugs, oil cloths. A small tin charcoal grill, and charcoal. Lots of canned foods. Some dried.
Heaven forbid Mercy should eat beans!
They left the market and headed for the Pyramid’s little self contained community.

Simon gritted his teeth.
I can deduce what they’re going to ask the astronomers, so I don’t actually have to go there myself.
He turned and stomped off.

And failed to see her the next day at a garden party given by the God of Vice. Amused and Flattered were there, climbing all over the redheaded brothers, and pulling them away into the extensive maze the god had brought here, along with a three story stone mansion.

Vice himself was looking over the other women, and with a nasty smile turned his attention to the Mayor’s wife. She sidled away nervously, trying to keep her husband between herself and the god. Pax and Mercy were together again, verbally dissecting politicians. Art circulated, talking about inconsequentialities. A wave of unease rippled across the garden as the God of Just Deserts showed up. One of his dogs pissed on the mayor’s leg before the mayor noticed and moved away. With his teeth gritting, but too much control to kick one of
those
dogs. The huge boxer grinned and trotted away. The other dogs wandered off, one stopping to poop in the middle of the sidewalk, before trotting off into the maze. People started moving toward the central plaza, not wanting to risk a solo canine encounter.

Simon circulated, briefly touching base with a number of influential people.

Shrieks and screams from the maze focused everyone’s attention that direction. No one seemed inclined to see who needed to be rescued. Simon looked the other direction and saw the Mayor’s wife walking off on Vice’s arm.

This party could take a nasty turn. Or is that, nastier?

The shrieks turned to cursing, died down. Everyone turned away, tried to resume a normal party air.

Amused and Flattered stumbled out of the maze, supporting each other. Dresses torn and showing a few streaks of mud, but reasonably dry. Hair dripping pond water.

Amused looked furious and stalked up to Michael Omega. Stuck a finger in his face. "Those damned dogs! The next time I see one, I’m going to kill him!" She staggered a bit as she tried to stalk off. Flattered was crying, but also looking mad. She glared and followed the other witch.

Simon looked over at Frasier. "Do you suppose we ought to go look for their young men?"

"I’m not setting foot in there."

Other people around them nodded.

Simon bit his lip.

"Your curiosity is going to get you into trouble one of these days." Frasier sighed. "All right. I’ll admit I want to know just how bad those dogs are too. They can’t possibly live up to their reputations."

Simon led the way. A small crowd followed.
Sick thrill seekers, every one of us.

A few wrong turns, then they followed the sounds of masculine curses to a central pond. Two naked and wet redheads were chasing four dogs with clothing in their jaws. The two women in the crowd almost managed to turn their laughter into exclamations of horror as their husbands hastily guided them away. The dogs dropped the clothes and ran off, fortunately in the other direction.

Simon assisted in the hunting down and delivery of torn garments. "What on earth did you do to deserve that?"

The slightly taller one, Dangelo if he remembered correctly, snorted. "The girls couldn’t keep us straight, so we swapped."

Ristophe grinned. "And then swapped back. I’m not sure what
they
did to deserve the dogs humping them and chasing them into the pond. I’ll bet it was almost as amusing as watching them get humped was."

"That is disgusting, young man." Professor Frasier dropped a ripped pair of pants on the ground and marched off.

The rest of the observers started moving off. ". . . he didn’t mean those dogs actually . . ."

Simon shook his head. "Would you like me to inform your father?"

"Gawd no! We’ll get ourselves inside, thanks awfully. A touch of illusion and we’re out of here. I suppose the girls are gone?"

"And out of the mood, anyway." Dangelo shrugged and concentrated. A fog concentrated itself around him and firmed up into an illusion of intact clothing. His brother did the same and they headed off through one of the other paths.

Simon shook his head, looking around the muddy, stirred up pond, the wet grass with shreds of clothing still laying about. "Personally I prefer horses." He walked off, keeping his eyes open for large dogs, although what he could do if they decided he deserved a dose of karma . . . All right, he knew it was really the collective subconscious, sans any civilized restraint of the conscious mind, that moved the god and his hell hounds, but man and dogs got the blame, and were shunned by most sensible folk. Back at the central plaza the mayor was frowning at his wife. She looked half asleep with a sweet smile on her face.

Well, Edmund is the God of Vice. Attend his party at your own risk, because most judges are too damned scared to take action against any of them.

***

River tried to avoid thinking about how much trouble she might be sideswiped by when they returned. Heidi was cuddled up beside Mike on the driver’s bench. Mary was splitting her time glaring, looking reproachful and hauling Heidi aside to lecture her on the lack of wisdom she was displaying. Mike had pushed the pace the first three days, no doubt hoping to outdistance anyone Mrs. Gardener might send after them. The big harness horses could walk along for hours at four miles an hour. Add trotting on the few down hill portions of the road, and occasionally on the flats and they made sixty miles a day, easily. But the ground was rising steadily and the climbs were only going to get steeper as they headed into the mountains proper. Their daily mileage started dropping fast. Mount Tambour was the eastern most peak of the Himalayas. River had seen maps of the other Earth, the one the Gods and her own ancestors had been exiled from. Here, the Himalayas were taller and extended further east. The Indo peninsula was much larger, with all the islands and part of a continent called Australia shoved up against it. The area called India was smaller. Shoved further under and up on Asia, hence the larger mountains.

Tambour was a modest peak in comparison to her sisters to the west, but still a substantial climb.

Just sitting in the wagon, River felt exhausted. It was very unlike her, and she wondered a bit uneasily if she could be pregnant.
It’s only been five weeks, I shouldn’t be tired already, should I? And the timing was wrong to catch, but my monthly . . . hasn’t. But it’s only barely overdue. Just a few days, really. Damn, damn, damn! And a wizard for a father, poor girl!

And she hadn’t even spoken to Simon since that parting kiss. She’d cured their hangovers magically . . . well, doused the pain temporarily. Nothing could douse the embarrassment. She sighed. Rolling around in the grass all night long. Pity she hadn’t thought of a reason for Simon to haul her up the observatory. A couple of weeks of rolling around in the grass . . . She pulled out a book on astronomy and forced herself to start reading.

***

Three weeks. River should be nearly to the observatory by now.
Simon sighed.
With her damned handsome son of the Traveler. I don’t know why she wanted me, with little gods all over the damned place .
He winced suddenly.
Apart from that potion I dumped in her wine. Oh damn it, what did Father say? Aphrodisiac, fertility aid, guarantee a boy child, truth potion . . . What was I thinking? Oh yeah, that I’d behave. Just take advantage of the truth spell. And then I drank too much, forgot I was being responsible, and didn’t even ask her any leading questions. We just played silly gods and made love all night long.

Why didn’t I go talk to her, the next day? Or the next? I wasted weeks, and now it’s been almost a month, and what if she is pregnant? Old Gods! Well, wasn’t that what witches were supposed to want? But when she has a son, she’ll know I dosed her. I’ll be lucky if she only ignores me. I have to go talk to her.

He eyed himself in the mirror. Nice suit, but obviously not very expensive. Very nice silk tie, that he’d worn to dozens of parties so far, as if it were his only really good tie.
Playing my part.
He stalked out into the twilight and walked down to the corner to catch the horse tram. The party was at Mercy’s tonight. And no doubt with the same batch of people. He switched to the cable car and dropped off at the top of the hill. Mercy’s home, transplanted from Miami.

What did my ancestors do to deserve to be exiled along with these thirteen beings? Even the ones I like and serve can be so strange and in-human sometimes.

He bowed to the Goddess. She smiled charmingly and he melted under the regard of those brilliant brown eyes, so deep a man could drown in them. She turned away from him and he staggered back a step. He shook his head and walked carefully away. He took a drink and hid in a corner to observe and regain his senses.