Greywolf

  The summons came just after breakfast.

  Castor had built up a fire in the hearth of the Dancing Direwolf's common room, before putting together a dish of eggs poached on a bed of fire tomatoes and wild onions. He was now pouring Kaffe into cups from the brass pitcher sitting on hot sand, carefully heated by a red mana stone, as Greywolf leaned back against the wall, grinning as Az began sniffing the air. Castor’s brother Fenris was already nodding off again.

  Everyone else in the inn had gone to bed. Castor dished up breakfast, and they ate at a low table in front of the fire, Fenris rousing himself enough to wolf down his portion before curling up on a cushion next to Az and going to sleep. Greywolf now sat on a cushion with his back soaking up the heat, the empty plates and bowls from breakfast heaped in a pile on the table beside them. Castor sat beside him on his right side while Az, wearing black trousers and a padded arming tunic, sat on a cushion in front, all three drinking Kaffe and telling stories.

  “The first time I fought a Daemo,” Amazonia said as she put her mug down on the table, “was well before Lady Jhadra crafted me into what I am. My master before Paulus wanted to see if I had the fire in my belly to win in the arena, so he—” A blast of cold air blew in as the front door opened, Az breaking off her story as she turned her head. "Titan?"

  Still wearing armor, the Ogri filled the doorway. "Khan Khingla has arrived. The command tent he uses has been set up among the buildings just over the bridge, and he has summoned you and Greywolf to be part of the group he wants to see."

  Fenris broke off in mid-snore the moment the door opened, and now began to rise. "I go with Domina."

  "No," Titan rumbled. "Just the two of them."

  "I'll be fine," Az said, patting Fenris' shoulder before she and Greywolf both rose to their feet. "Just give me a few minutes to don my armor, and—”

  "No armor and no weapons, except for the Rune sword. Prince Varsena promised me the Great Khan seeks no judgment against either one of you for what happened last night, but does want to understand exactly what he is now dealing with. If anyone is going to be judged, it will be Prince Timur."

  Shite, if the old khan is angry at his son, Timur will probably take it out on me. Wonderful. Greywolf grabbed his cloak with his left hand, and Castor helped him get it on as Amazonia picked up her sword by its sheathe and buckled the leather baldric so the sword was at her back. She looked at Fenris as he rose as well. "Keep everyone here until I get back. Sit on Troll if you have to."

  Fenris chuckled. "Troll not wake for hours." As she turned to leave, he grasped her shoulder with a clawed hand. "If danger, call with this," his other hand touching his temple. "Fenris come."

  "I'll remember," Az replied. Fenris let her go and they both joined Titan.

  Greywolf and Amazonia followed Titan to the wooden door, and as he stepped outside into the late morning air, he rumbled, "By the way, I brought someone along who needs to be part of the group as well."

  Wysper came out from behind him. She was dressed like a Bukharan in a gauzy dress with her belly exposed, shivering as she and Greywolf flew into each others arms, ignoring the pain from his injured shoulder as he kissed her. After a moment, she pulled back. "Oh, apologies! Your wounds—”

  "They're healing," he replied, awkwardly wrapping his woolen cloak over both of them. "Haven't you got any warmer clothes?"

  Wysper shook her head as Titan rumbled, "Once the priestesses were settled, the older Celtic woman insisted we find Wysper more suitable clothing for a woman. There were not many choices."

  "Thalia is having a difficult time right now," Wysper said. "She is clinging to any shred of normalcy she can, including giving direction to Myra and myself."

  "Sounds more like ordering you around," Az countered, glancing at the Ogri as they followed him down the alley. "Are you sure Khan Khingla is just seeking knowledge and not my head?"

  Titan remained facing forward. "If the Great Khan decides he wants your head, he will have to take mine first. Some things will never change no matter what happens." For a moment, Amazonia's expression softened as their footsteps echoed off the walls of the buildings on either side.

  Then her face regained its usual sardonic mask as Greywolf adjusted his stride to match Wysper's, her body pressed against his as they smiled at each other. Titan led them onto the street and turned left toward the main gate. The road was empty, all the shops either shuttered tight or gutted by fire, the smell of smoke still lingering in the air while most of the vendor's carts were broken. Loose pieces of bloodied clothing and trash blew along the paving stones as they walked toward the fountain near the main gate. No bodies, though, so I guess Castor was right about the Shamblers carrying them away.

  A group of people stood around the fountain, with a few warriors on Warghorses, including Karl, keeping watch while other Warghorse riders rode past, giving the four of them curious looks as they went by. As they approached the fountain, Karl tapped his heels to his Warghorse’s flanks. "Good, you're here," he said as he got close. He was wearing armor, and had either gotten a few hours of sleep or else Lys had given him something to banish his fatigue, because he looked fresh. "The Great Khan's waiting."

  Wysper stiffened as Karl reined in his mount, and Greywolf gave her a curious look. "Haven’t you ever seen a Warghorse before?"

  "Last night was the first time," she replied as Greywolf let her go and allowed the Warghorse to sniff his hand. The beast butted his head against Greywolf’s fingers and he scratched the Warghorse behind the ears as Wysper stepped back. "They were eating the corpses."

  "A Warghorse will eat anything not too rotten," Karl said as he pulled his mount back and turned him around. "Legend says a Direwolf once got a horse pregnant, and Warghorses were the result."

  As they walked alongside Karl towards the gate, Greywolf’s arm back around Wysper's waist, Titan gave a snort. "During the war of the Daemo Princes, Asena and several others like her combined the two animals together, and once the war was over, the ones who survived the carnage bred true. Karl, where is Lys?"

  "With the Great Khan, acting as his adviser. Lys explained to him how the rival temples to Yun-Kax plotted to betray us and how Cermet discovered their plan and told her."

  "Leading to the raising of the dead and Bukhara's capture. How is Khan Khingla taking that knowledge?”

  Karl chuckled. "Better than you might suspect. Oh, he's not happy about the Shamblers, but Lys has all of them, including Cermet and Yrg, back in their temple. What's pleasing him is the conquest of a city by three hundred warriors and possibly the entire province itself."

  "Will he send his warriors out to raid the towns and villages, or take it intact?"

  "Good question," Karl replied with a shrug as they approached the people standing around the fountain in the main square.

  Before he could go on, a male voice within the group called out, "Friend Greywolf, I heard you were badly hurt."

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  The merchant Porthos, lean with a nose sharp as a hawk's, stepped away from the well-dressed men he was with as Greywolf smiled. "You know I'd never let that stop me." Instead of his usual robes, today Porthos wore a blue tunic with a wavy hem almost down to his knees, and baggy trousers tied at his ankles. The gemstones in his sandals winked in the late morning sunlight as Greywolf glanced at him up and down. "You look impressive."

  Porthos made an expansive gesture with his arms towards the dozen or so men who were dressed the same, and an equal number of women behind them who were wrapped in blankets or cloaks. "My companions and I are here to represent our city today," he went on as Karl got everyone moving towards the bridge. They walked alongside him as he motioned at Wysper. "Might I assume the young woman sharing your cloak is the same one you got into so much trouble?"

  "One and the same." Greywolf introduced them to each other, then added, "Wysper and I are betrothed."

  Porthos' eyes widened. "Betrothed? You Celts do move fast." Before Greywolf could reply, he stopped and they both stopped with him as his face became serious. "Has anyone offered you the traditional blessing of our people?" Wysper shook her head, Titan and Az both stopping behind them as Porthos held out his hands. "Then let me be the first." Greywolf let her go as she stepped out from under his cloak. Grasping her hands, Porthos kissed both her cheeks and her forehead. "May you always find joy, laughter, and love in the days and the years you spend together."

  He let go of her hands and Wysper bowed to him. "Merchant Porthos, may the blessing of the light be upon you and all those you hold precious in your heart."

  The small crowd had been flowing around them, and as they begin moving again, passing underneath the gatehouse and onto the bridge, the two Celtic priestesses caught up to Wysper. "What are you doing," the older one hissed from underneath the blanket wrapped around her shoulders. "The High Priest forbade the use of the ancient Celtic blessings."

  Shivering in the cold air, Wysper gave the woman a defiant look. "I no longer care what Muzen or anyone from the temple of Yun-Kax forbade me to do. I will obey my heart and love the son of the Wolf Mother, while becoming Asena's only priestess, if she will have me."

  Wait, what? "You want to become Asena's priestess?"

  Wysper nodded as she motioned with her hand at Titan. "Of all the races on Earth, the Ogri are the wisest. Last night, after he got us all settled, Titan spoke to me about Asena and how the Heavens had cursed her with a thirst for mana. I understand thirst." Her gentle hand went to her heart. "Neither one of us alone can supply all the mana she needs, but together, Titan said we can give her what she requires without her having to slay mana rich creatures, as he told me she does."

  Greywolf blinked. "Ah, Titan, what exactly did you tell her?"

  His dark eyes met Greywolf’s. "I explained that Asena was cast out of the Heavens and forced to wander the earth as if she was a mortal being." Think, idiot... Wysper still believes the gods exist. He's doing you a favor, or at least I hope so. Greywolf slowly nodded and Titan bared his short fangs in a smile. "If you and I can calm Asena down enough to listen, she will realize what a marvelous gift this will be for all of us."

  As they walked along the bridge, the sound of rushing water coming from beneath their feet, Wysper looked at Greywolf with a solemn face. "Titan also told me the reason you were conceived was the same reason I was: to provide mana to the gods."

  Glancing down at her flat belly, Greywolf saw crisscrossing white lines, fine as spider silk. "Except yours was torn from inside you."

  Wysper's face grew sad as she nodded. "In Britannia, the druid priests were at least gentle, for everyone knew I was supposed to survive and not pretend to die."

  "That was the High Priest's idea." An angry expression swept over the younger and plumper Celtic priestess’s face, as spots of color appeared on her cheeks. "He tore at you and tore at you and there was nothing I could do to stop it." Tears began flowing as she shook her head. "It was wrong and we all knew it."

  Wysper went to her, wrapping her arm around the woman as they continued walking while the older one raised her chin. "We did what we had to in order to survive."

  "You were the one who betrayed us to the Sasnayams when we had a chance to escape," the golden haired woman spat back at her, pulling away from Wysper as she stabbed a finger at the older woman's face. "You were the one who made us their slaves."

  Greywolf glanced at Titan who shook his head. I guess he doesn't know anything about this either. Wysper gasped with her hand to her mouth as a guilty expression stole over the older woman's face. "If I had allowed us to escape Muzen’s temple priests, the shadow-walker who captured us would have returned and slaughtered everyone. I did it to spare our people."

  Shadow-walker who captured them? "Our people are being slaughtered anyway," Wysper said as she got the younger priestess walking forward again. "The Kingdom of the Gauls has invaded our island."

  "No." Wysper nodded, and the older woman stopped in her tracks as horror replaced the guilt on her face.

  Titan moved his hand as if about to give her a gentle push. "We need to keep moving so as not to anger the Great Khan. Regardless of the past, your fate is in his hands, now."

  "The Great Khan will judge you fairly," a familiar man's voice called out. They had almost reached the end of the bridge, and Prince Varsena was standing there wearing Artifact armor, a sheathed sword at his belt. Beyond him, a white tent had been raised in the small square of the city's outbuildings, the ropes holding it up tied in odd places among the stone structures. The caravan pen was filled with Warghorses eating oats, hay, and the carcasses of dead animals, while their riders stood among the buildings, guarding the tent. They came to a halt in front of him as he motioned towards Porthos. "However, in the matter of the fate of Bukhara, the Great Khan has requested that Porthos negotiate for all of you."

  A torrent of protests erupted from the bearded men, and Titan roared, "Hold your tongues." The bearded men shut their mouths at once, staring at the Ogri in stunned silence as he loomed over them with his arms folded across his armored chest. "Who among you defended Porthos when he refused to go along with the plan to rob us of the blood corn and humiliate our warriors, getting him thrown into the Royal governor's prison on a trumped up charge? Who among you would have remained beside Amazonia after she freed him," his hand pointing for a moment at Az, "when the spirit of Inanna was upon her?" His hand gestured at Porthos. "There are hundreds of your citizens who are alive this morning because he persuaded Amazonia to let him speak to them first, and convince them to throw off their yokes so the dead would pass them by. And where were you?" He stabbed his finger at them like an angry god dispensing justice. "You were hiding behind the walls of your houses with your guards around you, listening to the screams."

  "We were frightened," one of them bleated.

  "As was the merchant Porthos," Prince Varsena said. "The difference is that Porthos found the courage to overcome his fear, and the Great Khan only negotiates with courageous men." The prince wagged his finger as if scolding children. "You should know that, among our people, those who cannot overcome their fear are made slaves. Think on this."

  Porthos turned towards the bearded men and opened his arms wide. "My friends, let me speak for Bukhara and blessings will overflow our cups today and every day, for many years to come."

  A old man with a white beard and rich flowing robes gave him a sour look. "You will rob us all blind."

  Porthos only smiled. "Trust me." The bearded men rolled their eyes or muttered curses under their breath as he turned back towards the prince. "Does his highness wish for us to enter separately or together?"

  "The Great Khan wants all of you to bear witness to what is said, including Osiris." Prince Varsena looks past him at the women. "I understand his emissary is here?"

  Zanzabel, wearing a black cloak with silver embroidery, glided forward. "That would be me," she said, dropping into a deep curtsy before him. "I only need to smash the gem in my pocket to release his image."

  "Do so now," the prince replied, pointing down at the paving stones in the street. "The Great Khan has not lived a long life by trusting anyone more than he has to."

  "I understand. If everyone will step back?" Everyone including the prince took a few steps away from Zanzabel as she pulled a blue crystal from her pocket and knelt on the square stones. She whispered a few words, then hurled the gem onto the paving stones, smashing it apart. The crystal dissolved in a flash of blue light, resolving itself into Osiris' blue image, seated cross-legged as if waiting for the summons. Zanzabel prostrated herself in front of him and they spoke together for a few moments before he motioned for her to rise.

  He rose with her. "Prince Varsena," Osiris' image said in Greco as he turned around, "I am honored to make your acquaintance."

  Prince Varsena bowed. "As I am yours, Lord Osiris." He hesitated. "Forgive me, but this is an enchantment I am not familiar with…”

  "And you wish to make sure I can do your father no harm. Please, draw your sword and run it through this image a few times. Unlike an illusion, it has no substance whatsoever, and only gold will disrupt it." The prince pulled out his Artifact sword and touched it to the image before waving the blade back and forth several times through Osiris’ form.

  Then he stepped back and sheathed the sword. "Apologies, Lord Osiris, but I had to be sure. As for the rest of you," Prince Varsena raising his voice, "I will search the men for weapons, while Prince Avitohol's mother, Khojin, will search the women. And let me add, if you do have a weapon, please give it to me now. Because we are both going to be thorough."

  "What about me?" Az said, unbuckling her baldric and holding up her sheathed sword. "I was told to bring this."

  "Khojin knows to let you bring it inside," the prince answered. "The Great Khan has questions for the spirit of your sword, and Lys has a way for your Rune sword to answer."