Geodessey 1 - Isle of Women by Piers Anthony

Author:Piers Anthony [Anthony, Piers]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2011-05-10T05:00:00+00:00

OH, I hope Carver is all right," Crystal said anxiously. "He's really not a fighter."

"Neither is Scorch," Ember replied. "We simply must have faith that our god Ningirsu protects us all." But the twitch in her cheek belied that faith.

Crystal's faith did not look strong. Neither was Ember's; she knew that when one city fought another, one god fought another, and that meant that one god would lose. How could they be sure that their god was stronger than the enemy's god?

They reached the temple of the goddess they served directly: Ninkasi, "The Lady Who Fills the Mouth." Ninkasi was not the highest in the hierarchy of gods, but she had perhaps the most devoted following. She was the goddess of ale, and four of every ten measures of barley in the city went to her product. Ember had worked her way up from lowly furnace watcher to head brewer, and now was one of the most important women in the city. She made sure that the rations of the goddess went out to every man in the service of the city. In this time of war, that meant almost all of them. Two big mugs of ale a day, to each. No other god brought such regular and wholesome cheer.

The slaves were ready. "Move out the crocks," Ember said. "To the front gate."

The slaves put their shoulders to the harness. The wagon rolled onto the street, bearing its burden of large crocks. Progress was slow but adequate.

"Mistress," the head slave called respectfully. "What news of the front?"

Ember was ready. "Our brave men went out this morning. Surely they are routing the enemy troops Isle of Woman by Piers Anthony

even now, and will soon return in good order."

"Mistress, are you sure?" He sounded worried.

Honesty was best. "I am not sure. But our god has always protected us before, and surely he will now." She reflected a moment, realizing that this was not adequate. "I shall try to obtain a more immediate report. Failing that, I'll see if I can get us up on the wall so we can take a look ourselves."

"Oh, mistress!" he replied, awed.

Crystal smiled. She knew that women were not supposed to mount the wall during wartime, but that such things could be accomplished if properly phrased.

Reassured, the slaves moved along. They reached the front gate, where the guards were more than ready for their rations. Ember lifted her arms in a benediction for a crock, and the slaves unloaded it and carefully poured the precious ale into lesser containers. These were in turn poured into the waiting mugs of the men. Crystal counted the number served and made a note on her ledger. Each man was entitled to one and only one mugful at this time.

"What news of the battle?" Ember inquired.

"Mistress, we have none. But surely our brave and bold men are giving an excellent account of themselves."

"Surely," Ember agreed. She looked up. "What of the men on the wall?"

"Mistress, we are shorthanded because of the number of our men in the field," the gatekeeper explained.

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