Amazonia - Secret of the Reaver Knights

"I swear to Hades, the people in Bukhara couldn't carry a tune if you handed them a bucket."

Standing beside me in the darkness at the entrance to the Ghash-Kimil temple, Prince Timur chuckles. My Wardogs minus Fenris and Fox, his other two Bloodguards, and the company of Khanda swordsmen, are behind us, speaking only in whispers so they won't give us away should someone walk by. So far, the temple district's been empty.

Because they're off celebrating with the rest of the city. Right beyond the wall, drunken voices are singing the same song I've heard at least a dozen times now, these singers even more off-key, with other voices farther away singing along with horns and drums. Each group seems to be trying to out-sing the others. Even farther off the mages are throwing up massive illusions of Daemo monsters fighting mock battles, while other illusions streak across the sky like comets.

Prince Timur stares out at the gaudy display, stroking his beard. "I was thinking. If the boy Greywolf had not stolen a kiss off that girl, you and I would likely be out there as well, drinking wine and laughing at the idiot Bukharans instead of guarding our way out of here."

I give him an amused snort. "You would, my prince. I'd be trying to keep Troll from doing something incredibly stupid-" Claws clicking on the paving stones are coming closer. "Everyone get ready, Fenris returns."

Prince Timur goes into a fighting stance while behind me metal clinks and leather rustles as the others do the same. A moment later, Fenris' armored, man-wolf shape bounds out of the darkness. "Domina," he growls, "archers and spearmen just went through temple gate. They head towards building."

"Did Castor go off to warn Kula?"

"Yes, Domina."

Fenris joins my other Wardogs while Prince Timur begins giving orders to the Khanda sword-leaders behind him in their tongue. His warriors begin forming two columns, one on either side of the passage with a wide space between, as he turns back around. "It would seem the Lich Cermet spoke the truth."

"The dead never lie, Prince Timur." Cermet's voice never rises above a bone dry whisper, yet we all hear it loud as a shout, judging from the fearful looks and shudders as I turn with the prince to face her. Cermet's covered head to foot by a black robe with long sleeves covering her hands, a deep cowl covering her face, and shouldn't be the least bit frightening. Yet fear clings to her like cheap perfume on an Illyrian alley-walker as her voice whispers like dry leaves over gravestones. "Tell me, Amazonia, have you ever been a leader of men?"

I grasp the hilt of the Rune sword hanging from my belt, its presence giving me confidence as I shrug. "When I was a girl in the rebellion against the Etruscan empire, I dreamed of commanding my own company of javelins. The slave collar they slapped around my neck quickly destroyed that dream."

Along with every other hope and dream I had, but I'm not telling her about those, even if she asks. Beside me, Prince Timur growls, "Why should that matter?"

"Because the dead fight better with someone to lead them. I can raise a thousand corpses from the charnel pits underneath this temple, and give them orders to fight, but it would be like commanding the drunken fools stagggering on the streets outside the temple district. However, commanded by a true Reaver Knight, they will fight like men defending their home. All that is needed is for Amazonia to complete the ritual the Daemo, who forged her Rune sword, began."

Unease breaks past the sword granted confidence as Troll snarls, "What're you fukin talking about? Domina ain't no false knight."

"Then why is her blade black and not grey? Where are the runes of Shadow?"

I grip the hilt hard. "Lady Jhadra never said anything about the ritual being incomplete."

"Had she told you what the full ritual entailed, you might not have gone through with it, even to win your freedom. The ritual involves two parts: the Daemo sorceress transmuting the blade and binding the Chaldeans, then a necromancer, or a Lich under a necromancer's control, performing a second transmutation linking the knight to the Shadowlands."

Keep breathing, Az. Nobody can force you into doing something you don't want to do. "Maybe Lady Jhadra didn't know about the second part."

"If she is the same Jhadra spoken of in the lore I studied in Tesiphon, she learned to create true Reaver Knights during the great war. Then, after the death of the last Prince, she brought the knowledge to ancient Babylon. The lore teaches how she drained the few remaining Daemo-mana crystals the last Prince had brought with him from the Underworld, to create several Reaver Knights for Hammurabi, the Babylonian king. He used them to conquer all the city-states of Mesopotamia and create an empire. The lore teaches that the necromancer assisting her in the ritual was a Celestial named Tanit, the same one who helped Ba'al of Carthago create Shadowmen."

"Lady Jhadra knew Titan as an old enemy," the Nomads remind me in unison.

I nod reluctantly as Prince Timur strokes his beard. "Let me make some assumptions, and anyone tell me if I'm wrong. Odds are good that this sorceress..." He looks at me. "Jhadra?" I nod and he goes on. "That Jhadra's the same one from long ago, which means she knew exactly what the ritual needed to be complete. Obviously she was working for the Sasnayams, who wanted Az to stop my people from raiding their eastern border. Now, a Reaver Knight and her Wardogs are tough, but wouldn't be more than a thorn in our paw. However, a Reaver Knight leading a thousand of the dead? That's a different story."

He's built a house of straw around the lies I've told him, and a wrong word from Cermet will blow it away. "Lys mentioned this plot, and in truth I must tell you, I never heard a whisper of it before this." I go still as the stone blocks around me as the body underneath her black robe shrugs. "However, something this sensitive Ghash-Kimil would have kept close to their breast, so your assumption is likely correct."

Breathe, Az, just breathe. "Ghash-Kimil would have likely been the one to complete the ritual, and brought every priest they could spare from across the empire to Bukhara. Prince Timur, it would not have been a thousand dead. All the dead of Bukhara would have risen up... and Amazonia would have led them over the bridge and across the plains until they reached your encampment."

"The people are warriors of great courage," his Bloodguard Argat says. "We would've defeated them."

Cermet chuckles. "The first wave, yes. However, Amazonia as their general would have fallen back to the city, while Ghash-Kimil and their priests prepared the next."

His other Bloodguard, Chingol, shudders. "The Great Khan isn't the man he once was. Instead of attacking, he would've had us migrate away from Bukhara."

"On the cusp of winter," Argat snarls. He whips his arm towards the celebration beyond the district's walls. "I for one would like to see the dead rise up against them, and see how they like it."

"I can make that happen... if Amazonia agrees."

Hades' hairy eyeballs, this isn't what I signed on for. "I'm not agreeing to this yet, but assume I do so. What happens?"

"The second transmutation links the Rune sword to the Grey, granting you the ability to draw upon it and become a Shadow Knight, able to speak with the dead and lead any number of them into battle. As a Shadow Knight, you will be stronger and far faster than you are now, yet more fragile, dissolving into the Grey as a Shadow creature should you be killed."

My eyes go wide. "You're saying if I die I'll become trapped in the Shadowlands forever?"

"Perhaps. The lore tells of a Shadow-walker named Ghostdog who rescued one such trapped Shadow Knight and brought him back to the real world."

"What happened to him?"

Cermet shrugs again. "He wept at being returned to life and could not be consoled, though the lore does not say why. But he did return to his duty and kept at it until the Rune sword finally shattered and set him free."

"Oh, that's a comfort."

Dancer chuckles at the sarcastic edge to my voice. "Domina, Fox will never be the Shadow-walker this legendary Ghostdog was, but didn't you ever wonder why Jhadra included her among us?"

"I..." Bells of Hades, I think he's right. "Okay, you've got a point, but how would you find me?"

"The Rune sword left behind would act as a lodestone and show the way. So, Amazonia, are you ready to complete the ritual and become what you are meant to be?" I'm hesitating as I really don't want to do this, I've just got to figure a way out. "If it helps, I have been speaking with Antonius, the spirit of your sword, and he tells me that transmuting him again will help you get revenge on the Sasnayams even faster." Her chuckle is dry as grave dust. "He reminds me of a chattering bird. He told me all about the both of you, the original mission, everything."

She knows. If Timur realizes I've lied to him, everything comes crashing down on our heads. I turn towards the prince as he claps his hand on my shoulder. "Az, what I'm going to ask you to do is evil, but if you will accept this second transmutation, I will owe you. A lot." He lets go of me and turns towards Cermet. "Will she become this Shadow Knight permanently if she accepts?"

"The lore teaches that she can return to being her normal self whenever she wants. But know this: what you do as a Shadow Knight you will always remember. Always."

I don't want to do this in the first place. But I don't have any choice if I want to keep us alive. "Alright, fine; what do I have to do?"

"Follow me into the inner chamber."

Cermet turns around and begins walking deeper inside the pyramid as I face Dancer. "You're in charge while I'm gone. Guard the prince, follow his orders, and don't let Troll get himself killed if you can help it."

Troll chuckles as Dancer shakes his head. "Domina-"

"Until I know what this is going to do to me, I'm not taking any chances. Are we good?"

Dancer sighs. "I make no promises about Troll."

I give him a grin, smacking his armored shoulder before following Cermet. I catch up to her, the warriors on either side shrinking away from us in the light of the almond oil lamps they're using as much to cut the stench of this place as for light. As we pass the last of the warriors, there's a lamp on a set of stone steps leading up, and on impulse I grab it. Cermet gives me a dry, dusty chuckle but says nothing else, the silence between us growing thick as the stench around us of rotting corpses and fear.

We continue on until the walls fall away and we step into the inner chamber. "Place your lamp near the tree, taking care not to touch the branches or the trunk."

"You can't get me if I get trapped?"

Cermet pulls her hands out of the sleeves of her robe, her fingers bone held together by black sinew, and pushes back her cowl. Her face still has places where the skull shows through, but her flesh no longer looks as if it's ready to rot away. Both eye sockets have been cleared of flesh and replaced with eyeballs of black. "I am not a Shadow-walker, only a practitioner of the Necrotic Arts." I shudder, then carefully set the lamp down near the tree's base as she goes on. "Apologies, for I know I am not pleasant to look upon, but for this I need fine control. The second transmutation will be similar to the first in that I will open a channel directly to the tree's heart. When I give you the word, thrust your sword into the channel and pierce it."

"You make it sound like this tree's alive."

"The tree is alive, in a sense, because the Grey lives in its own, strange way. Did you not know?" Before I can open my mouth to reply, she turns and places her hands in a circle with the tips of her finger bones touching. "Draw your sword and make ready." I step away from her and pull the Rune sword from its sheathe, the blade pinging like tapping a crystal glass as it clears the leather. She begins chanting in a language I've never heard, and between her hands a hole is forming in the trunk. "The channel will hold for as long as I keep it open, and will not pull you into the Grey should the blade touch the sides. All I ask is for you to be careful of my hands." I nod and hold the blade steady as the hole deepens... there's something grey and definitely not tree-like at the base of it. "Get ready... now!"

I thrust the Rune sword deep into the hole and pierce the grey heart of the tree... black lightning crackles around the blade and my hands lock onto the hilt... it's quivering in my hands... now my entire body's shaking as a black storm rages within the tree, the lightning now crackling up from the blade into the trunk...

Cermet hisses, "Pull it out, pull it out now." I lurch backwards, the sword just passing her curled fingers as I stumble, catching myself at the last moment before I fall. Cermet pulls her bony hands apart and steps back, and the hole closes, the grey tree shuddering as the opening smooths over as if it never existed. She looks at me with a horrible smile. "Well done, my true Reaver Knight. Look to your sword." I glance down at the blade.

Instead of being shiny black like obsidian, my Rune sword's blade become a dull grey, as if it's been transmuted to metal. Yet it feels even lighter in my hands than it did before. The red runes are still deeply etched into the blade, but now there are black, intricate runes as well, which strangely seem to complement the red and make it seem complete. I look up at her without bothering to hide the stunned expression on my face. "This sword... it's unbreakable now, isn't it?"

"Until your mission... your true mission, is complete, whereupon the spirit of the blade will shatter the blade and free you both. And to answer your next question, yes, Lys knows what I know. However, your goal to see the Sasnayam empire brought to its knees mirrors her own goal to see Timur be made Khan of Khans once Khingla dies a natural death, and thus she will say nothing. All you both need to do is be patient."

I breathe a sigh of relief. "I can wait as long as it takes. How long-"

Cermet holds up her hand, head cocked as if listening to sounds I cannot hear. "We were just in time. Lys tells me a confrontation is imminent, so I need you to let the sword transform you." I open my mouth to ask her questions, but she says, "The lore states that the Shadow Knight will instinctively know what to do once they have been transformed. Speak to Antonius and ask him to cause the change."

I feel foolish, speaking to a weapon, yet what else can I do? "Antonius, work your magic." For a long moment nothing happens.

Then the Rune sword vibrates in my hands as a metallic voice says aloud, "You... always... hurt... the... one... you... love..."

I scream as the transformation begins.