Amazonia

  Khan Khingla glared at his eldest son. "The people are not yet ready to accept such a monumental change in their lives. They need time to accept this decision, and Avitohol," the old man emphasizing his youngest son's name as if he was not ready to accept the boy becoming a warrior, "needs time for Titan to teach him how to rule wisely. I will not be rushed into this, and I will not be used by either Daemo sorceresses or Celestials wanting to be worshiped again." He motioned past Az at someone behind her. "The merchant Porthos will be made Bukhara's petty king, subject to me and my heir, its walls will be rebuilt, and you, Prince Timur, will reorganize its army. Emissaries will be sent to Tesiphon dictating our terms for peace, and in the spring, the People of the Eternal Sky will migrate east."

  "Great Khan," the Daemo Sybil said, "the Sasnayams will never accept peace. Without your armies to protect us, Bukhara will fall, and then, Great Khan, the armies of the Sasnayams will follow after you."

  "If the Sasnayams are foolish enough to do so, I will summon troops from the other tribes and the petty kingdoms of Indus, if need be."

  "This will take time," Kula said. "At the very least we need to send outriders into the satrapies to warn us against—”

  "No one sets foot anywhere outside of the lands under Bukhara's control," the Khan snapped. "You have all heard my decision."

  "To lead our people to their destruction," Timur almost snarled.

  Khan Khingla's hands gripped the armrests shaped like boar limbs so hard, his knuckles turned white. "What would you have me do? If you sat in this chair, Timur, what would you do?" Bells of Hades, I think the Great Khan's become a frightened old man who's desperately trying not to show it.

  Timur drew himself up. "What would I do? Where to begin? I would give up this idea of settling down and spend the winter preparing our people for war in the spring." He glanced at Antonius, staring out at Az with worshipful eyes. "I would embrace this holy war against the Sasnayams, sending prophets all across their empire spreading word of Inanna's return from the Underworld, bringing the legions of the dead with her." He looked again at the old man. "I would spend the winter getting our warriors accustomed to the legions that would lead the attacks."

  "You cannot be serious!"

  "Deadly serious, Great Khan. Before Amazonia dismissed them back to the black temple, I walked among the legion, accidentally bumping into one and almost knocking it over. Do you know what happened?" Timur made a fist and smacked it lightly against his breastbone in a gesture of respect. "It made this gesture. The dead that Cermet raised do not hunger for the flesh of men, as old tales tell, but are more like the manikins Bukhara's mages use. Better, because unlike the manikins, the legion soldiers instinctively know friend from foe. The legion will absorb the arrows from their archers and frighten their spearmen into panicking, allowing our warriors to engage their superior troops and our Warg-lancers to run down their cavalry." He balled his hand into a fist again and raised it over his head. "United, we will become the storm that drives the Sasnayam Empire to its knees."

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  "You are mad," the Khan hissed as Timur lowered his hand. "You would disgrace yourself, disgrace our people, replace the worship of Tengri with blaspheming gods—”

  "Did I say a word about polluting our religion with theirs? Let the farmers have the religion of their ancestors; we have Tengri, lord of the open sky. And since we are speaking of blasphemy, tell me, oh Great Khan, how the people can worship Tengri when the open sky is blocked by stone walls? Will you build your people marble temples to worship him, like the Etruscans, or great pyramids as the heart-eaters do?"

  The old man rose off his carved chair, shaking in his fury. "Since you love Bukhara so much, you are hereby banished to their side of the river, you and all your abominations, until I say otherwise. If any of you so much as step across the bridge, that person will be slain on sight. Am I making myself clear?"

  Timur's face became a stony mask of controlled fury. "Perfectly. Do I have your leave to go?" The old man made a brusque wave of his hand and Timur turned and strode away, his two other Bloodguards following.

  Well, that's that. Lys took her hand away from the hilt and Amazonia slammed the blade back into the sheathe, Wysper gasping as her face turned a bright shade of red. Then she scampered away, back towards Greywolf walking towards her. Az turned her head forward again and rose to her feet as Lys stretched. "That went well," she said with a chuckle.

  "Lys," the old man said in a harsh voice, "you are banished as well." Her eyes went wide.

  In the blink of an eye she was on her feet. "Great Khan, did I hear you correctly? After everything I have done for you, I am to be banished, thrown away like a corpse upon a midden heap?"

  "I should never have accepted your service in the first place," he snapped. "Titan was right: necromancy is like wine to the drunkard, but a thirst can be tamed by banishing the wine cask from your sight. Take yourself away and never return."

  "As you wish." Lys’ voice had a cold, cold, edge as her black jagged teeth glittered like Artifact daggers. "But know this, Khan Khingla: your banishment means nothing to me. I go where I want and will take service with the one I have wished to serve all along."

  Timur had stopped near the tent flap. "Lys? I would be honored to have you join me, you and Karl both."

  Lys' jagged smile becomes a grin. "I believe I hear my new lord calling me. By your leave." She gave Khan Khingla a mocking bow as Az fell in beside her, then both turned around and headed towards Timur.

  Karl bowed to the men he was translating for and headed that direction as well. "Karl the Outlander," the old man called out, "you are permanently banished as well if you leave."

  Karl halted next to Timur and shrugged. "Truth be told, I was getting tired of steam baths in a tent anyway."

  Timur clapped him on the shoulder as Lys and Az reached Greywolf, his good arm around the girl's waist. Lys looked up at Wysper as she quietly said, "Muzen once told us that having a Fae in your service was like riding a tiger into battle. You are king of the battlefield until you get knocked off and the tiger eats you."

  Lys glanced over her shoulder. "Tempt me not." Amazonia exchanged a look with Greywolf, then moved past him and Wysper as Lys leapt onto Karl's shoulder. "Prince Timur," she said in a frozen purr, "shall we discuss terms?"

  "By all means." Together, the outcasts of the Crimson Boar tribe strode out of the stuffy tent into the cold, clear morning.