Greywolf

  Az drew the grey bladed sword from its sheathe. "Cermet told me that as a Shadow Knight, I'd be stronger and faster than I've ever been, yet also more fragile. She told that if I’m ever killed, I’ll dissolve into a mist that would be sucked into the Shadowlands, much as the Daemo are pulled down into the Underworld." She pointed the tip of the sword at Greywolf’s chest. "If that happens, you are going to come find me and bring me back to the real world."

  She can't be serious. "Az, I won't know you're dead, let alone know where to look for you in the Shadowlands."

  Az held up her Rune sword. "Use this to track me. And since you're going to become Avitohol's Bloodguard, my Wardogs should have no trouble tracking you down."

  Sitting on Karl's shoulder, Lys shook her head. "Things are too uncertain right now to assume that. Prince Varsena, can you enchant two amulets so that either one can find the other?"

  "I can," he replied in a wary voice, "and even craft them so each person can see the other. But magic cannot work in the Shadowlands."

  "Lady Jhadra told me the Rune sword will know where I am no matter where I go," Az said, "and Fox can use the amulet to contact Greywolf should things… change."

  "Then I agree to craft two linked amulets," Prince Varsena said as he looked towards Timur, "but only if he adds my name to his sword oath. Elder brother, I will never swear fealty to you, even if the People of the Eternal Sky elect you Khan of khans by their own free will. I would rather walk away into the teeth of a howling snowstorm than press my forehead to your hand, let alone swear you an oath on a grey, rune covered blade. Avitohol feels the same."

  "Unlike you," Timur sneered, "Avitohol has earned my respect and has nothing to fear." He looked at Az. "Should something happen, entrusting your return to this boy is a bad idea. If the Rune sword can find you, the Daemo Shadow-walker can lead your Wardogs into the Shadowlands."

  "Where they'll get torn apart by the first Shadow creature they meet." Timur whirled around to glare at Greywolf, who glared right back. "The Shadowlands are my country, and unless Fox has been hiding her sword skills, I'm your only hope for getting Az back."

  Timur spat on the paving stones near Greywolf’s feet. "I do not trust you."

  "The Rune sword won't give any of us a choice." Az looked at Greywolf. "You swear your oath first, Prince Timur will swear his next, and I will swear mine last. Then the Rune sword will bind us to our oaths. Alright?"

  Greywolf nodded. "I'm only doing this for you, not for him."

  "And I am only swearing this oath because of the great debt I owe to my Reaver Knight, a debt I can never fully repay." Timur glanced at his brother. "It comes to me that banishing you will be justice served cold, yet justice nonetheless. But mark my words," Timur's expression hardening. "When my time to rule has arrived, the only person of the People you will be permitted to take with you shall be Avitohol. No one else. There will be no provisions given, no aid rendered, and no one will be allowed to shelter you on pain of death." His smile was cold as a troll's heart. "You will be on your own."

  "So will you," Prince Varsena replied. "The People will fear you and shout your name, but there will be no one you can trust." He sadly shook his head. "You may earn their respect and their acclaim, but you will never be loved as our father is."

  "I can live with that." Timur turned toward Greywolf and sneered, "Shall we see what kind of a weasel-mouthed oath the boy shall swear?"

  Gritting his teeth as Az held out the sword with the blade straight across, Greywolf placed his palm over several runes. "I swear that if I learn Az is trapped in the Grey, I will leave immediately, track her down with this sword, and bring her back to the real world or die trying." The runes on the blade glowed red a moment, sealing the oath, and he snatched his hand away. "There, satisfied?"

  To Greywolf’s surprise, Timur raised his eyebrows as he placed his hand on the blade. "I am impressed. For my part, I swear if I am made Khan of khans by the People of the Eternal Sky, that unless they attack first, I shall spare the lives of my brothers Avitohol and Varsena, Titan the Ogri, the girl Wysper... and the little child known as Greywolf."

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  The runes glowed red and he took his hand away as Az placed hers where his palm had been. "For my part, I shall never balk at becoming a Shadow Knight ever again, even if it means being consigned to Hel’s darkest realm, and will destroy any enemy of Prince Timur's that he desires... except for the people he has sworn to spare." Timur gave her a sharp look as she regarded him. "Neither I, or my Chaldeans, will lift a hand against them without provocation, until the sword shatters and all oaths shatter as well. This I do swear."

  The runes glowed even brighter than before, fading as Az took her hand from the blade and sheathed the sword. "That was fun," Lys said, drumming her heels against Karl's chest armor. "Now what?"

  "Now, I want my armor and sword back," Greywolf told her.

  "Not without my consent," Timur replied. "None of you are allowed to enter Bukhara, even to retrieve personal items, until I decide otherwise." His smile slid into a smirk. "I am sure you can find replacements."

  Prince Varsena placed his hand on Greywolf’s shoulder for a moment. "I will commission a new set of armor to be made as soon as we return, and if you will recharge my mana stones, I will change the thickest pieces of leather the tanner has into Artifact plates."

  Greywolf touched his fingers to his chest. "Deal."

  Prince Varsena did the same as from behind them, the voice of Osiris said, "Greywolf, the last time your father was here, he paid a wood carver to create a sword out of Ironwood, which he meant to bring you."

  "Except he forgot about it." Greywolf replied as he turned around.

  Osiris' blue glowing image smiled. "A man's mind is like an attic filled with the clutter of old memories, and the older you get, the more things get lost in the mess. I will give the sword to my courier, who will be leaving soon, and let Prince Varsena transmute it for you, if he wishes."

  "It would be no trouble," the prince said. "However, I am wondering why an exalted person such as yourself is taking an interest in our doings?"

  The glowing image made an open gesture with both hands. "What happens here will affect what happens in other lands, including our kingdom, and I would watch it unfold with my own eyes as much as possible."

  From the group of women, Zanzabel hurried over. "My lord Osiris, the Daemo Sybil told me she would be grateful if I established a temple of Osiris here in Bukhara as a balance to Inanna's, with Ishtar over both."

  Timur frowned. "You would use it as a way to spy upon me."

  "Say rather to trade knowledge between us." Osiris' image moved past them and stopped in front of Timur. "Queen Zenobia wants the province of Syros, where the ancient city of Palmyra now lays under the Empire of the East's yoke. Beyond that, I want the kingdom to remain stable long after my death. Which means sailing in the direction the wind is blowing and not fighting against it."

  "I see," Timur stroking his beard as he inclined his head. "In that case, I have no objection to the establishment of a new temple."

  "Good. For now, I need to remain with your younger brothers and keep my promise to resolve the betrothal, but after this image dissolves, when Zanzabel uses another gem to bring my image here, it will be to discuss important matters with you."

  "While we are on the subject of temples," Sybil said as she approached, "your highness, all the priestesses, including the other two Celtic ones, would like to remain in Bukhara and, with one exception, become devotees of Ishtar."

  Standing beside Greywolf, Wysper gasped. "I thought they were coming with us."

  The Daemo gave Wysper a sly smile. "I offered your older priestess-sister Thalia the position of temple mistress, while Myra eagerly accepted the position of chief healer, a talent she excels at, having closed your wounds so many times before." She turned towards Timur. "My prince, Myra has never been with a man before, and to fully initiate her into the sacred mysteries, a strong man who can also be gentle is needed to help me bring her fully into the fold. Would you know of someone who would be willing?"

  Timur stroked his beard as he looked past the Daemo at the golden haired, furiously blushing woman. "If I am going to be the master of Bukhara, the least I should do is try to understand its religion."

  The sly smile remained as Sybil bowed. "Truly spoken. My prince, if you wish, we can discuss the details on our way to your palace."

  He chuckled as he shook his head as if in disbelief. "My palace." He turned and faced Bukhara. "My city. Come, my friends," Timur motioning for the others to follow him, "we have a city to rebuild." He laughed as he held up his arms. "I was born for this!"

  Az traded a look with Greywolf and shrugged before joining the others heading towards the open gates. Prince Varsena sighed. "No good will come of today’s events."

  "I agree," Titan rumbled. "However, the matter is out of our hands."

  "I fear you are right.” Prince Varsena exhaled sharply. “So, what say we find Wysper some warm clothing and join the Great Khan and the others?" He did his best to smile. "It is high time we all went home."

  Greywolf couldn’t help but shrug. "My home’s always been wherever Asena spent the night."

  Wysper looked up at him. "My home will always be the island of Britannia, but if your home is a person, I can be yours, if you want."

  Greywolf smiled and held out his hand. "I'd like that."

  Wysper smiled back as she grasped it, and all of them turned their backs on Bukhara as Prince Varsena led them away.