Greywolf - The Summons

Castor built up a fire in the hearth of the Dancing Direwolf's common room, and now I'm sitting on a cushion with my back soaking up the heat, the empty plates and bowls from breakfast heaped in a pile on the table beside us. Castor's on my right side while Az, wearing black trousers and a padded arming tunic, is sitting on a cushion in front of us, all three of us drinking Kaffe and telling stories. Her Wardogs and anyone else in the inn have all finally gone to bed, except for Castor's brother, who's curled up on some cushions next to Az.

She's telling a tale about the first time she fought a Daemo when a blast of cold air blows in as the front door opens. Az breaks off and turns her head. "Titan?"

Still wearing armor, the Ogri fills 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 begins to rise. "I go with Domina."

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

"I'll be fine," Az says, patting Fenris' shoulder before she and I both rise. "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. I grab my cloak with my left hand and Castor helps me get it on as Az picks up her sword, still inside its sheath, and buckles the leather baldric so the sword's at her back. She looks at Fenris who's risen as well. "Keep everyone here until I get back. Sit on Troll if you have to."

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

"I'll remember," Az replies, Fenris letting go as we both join Titan.

He steps out into the late morning air, and as we follow, he rumbles, "By the way, I brought someone along who needs to be part of the group as well."

Wysper steps out from behind him. She's dressed like a Bukharan in a gauzy dress with her belly exposed, and shivering as we fly into each others arms. I ignore the pain from my injured shoulder as I kiss her, but after a wonderful moment she pulls back. "Oh, apologies! Your wounds-"

"They're healing," I reply, awkwardly wrapping my woolen cloak over both of us. "Haven't you got any warmer clothes?"

Wysper shakes her head as Titan rumbles, "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 says. "She is clinging to any shred of normalcy she can, including giving direction to Myra and myself."

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

Titan remains facing forward as he says, "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 softens as our footsteps echo off the walls of the buildings to either side.

Then she regains her usual sardonic expression as I adjust my stride to match Wysper's, her body pressed against mine as we smile at each other while following Titan into the street. The road's empty, all the shops either shuttered tight or gutted by fire, the smell of smoke still lingering in the air. The vendor's carts are broken and there's loose pieces of bloodied clothing and trash blowing along the paving stones as we turn left towards the fountain near the main gate. No bodies, though, so I guess Castor's right about the Shamblers carrying them away.

A group of people are standing around the fountain, with a few riders on Warghorses keeping watch while others ride past us, giving us curious looks as they go by. One rider heads straight towards us as we get close. "Good, you're here." Karl's wearing armor, and either he got a few hours of sleep or Lys gave him something to banish his fatigue, because he looks fresh. "The Great Khan's waiting."

Wysper stiffens as Karl reins in his mount, and I give her a curious look. "Haven't you ever seen Warghorses before?"

"Last night was the first time," she replies as I let her go and let the Warghorse sniff my hand. Then he butts his head against it and I scratch him behind the ears as she pulls back. "They were eating the corpses."

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

As we walk alongside Karl, my arm back around Wysper's waist, Titan snorts. "During the war of the Daemo Princes, Asena and several others like her combined the two animals together to be used in battle. Once the war was over, the ones who survived the carnage bred true. Karl, where is Lys?"

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

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

Karl chuckles. "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 the Ghash-Kimil 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 replies with a shrug.

Before he can go on, a male voice calls out from the group we're approaching, "Friend Greywolf, I heard you were badly hurt."

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

He makes an expansive gesture with his arms towards the dozen or so men who are dressed the same or in fine robes, and an equal number of women behind them, wrapped in blankets or cloaks. "My companions and I are here to represent our city today," he says as Karl gets everyone moving towards the bridge. We walk alongside him as he motions 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." I introduce them, then add, "Wysper and I are betrothed."

Porthos' eyes widen. "Betrothed? You Celts do move fast." Before I can reply, he stops and we both stop with him as his face becomes serious. "This is a milestone in both of your lives. Has anyone offered you the traditional blessing of our people?" Wysper shakes her head, Titan and Az both stopping behind us as he holds out his hands. "Then let me be the first." I let her go as she steps out from under my cloak, and grasping her hands, Porthos kisses both her cheeks and her forehead as he says, "May you always find joy, laughter, and love in the days and the years you spend together."

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

The crowd had been flowing around us, and as we begin moving again, passing underneath the gatehouse and onto the bridge, the two Celtic priestesses catch up to Wysper. "What are you doing," the older one hisses 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 gives 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 nods as she motions 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 for a long time about Asena, and how the Heavens had cursed her with a thirst for mana. I understand thirst." Her gentle hand goes 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 having to slay mana rich creatures, as he told me she does."

I blink. "Ah, Titan, what exactly did you tell her?"

His dark eyes meet mine. "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. I slowly nod and he bares his 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 we walk along the bridge, Wysper looks at me 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, there are criss-crossing white lines, fine as spider silk. "Except yours was torn from inside you."

Wysper's face grows sad as she nods. "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." The younger, and plumper, Celtic priestess has an angry expression as spots of color appear on her cheeks. "He tore at you and tore at you and there was nothing I could do to stop it." Tears begin flowing down her cheeks as she shakes her head. "It was wrong and we all knew it."

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

"You were the one who betrayed us to the Sasnayams in the first place," the golden haired woman spits back at her, pulling away from Wysper as she stabs a finger at the older woman's face. "You were the one who made us slaves."

I glance at Titan who shakes his head; evidently, he doesn't know anything about this either. Wysper gasps with her hand to her mouth as a guilty expression steals over the older woman's face. "They were going to slaughter everyone and take us anyway. I did it to spare our people."

"Our people are being slaughtered anyway," Wysper says as she gets the younger priestess walking forward again. "The Kingdom of the Gauls has invaded our island."

"No." Wysper nods, and the older woman stops in her tracks as horror replaces the guilt on her face.

Titan moves his hand as if he's 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 calls out. We're almost to the end of the bridge, and Prince Varsena's standing there wearing Artifact armor and a sheathed sword at his belt. Beyond him, a white tent has 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's filled with Warghorses eating oats, hay, and the carcasses of dead animals, while their riders stand among the buildings, guarding the tent. We come to a halt in front of him as he motions 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 erupts from the bearded men. "Hold your tongues," Titan roars, and they shut their mouths at once, staring at him in stunned silence as he looms 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 gestures 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 stabs 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 bleats.

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

Porthos turns towards the bearded men and opens 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 gives him a sour look. "You will rob us all blind."

Porthos only smiles. "Trust me." The bearded men roll their eyes or mutter curses under their breath as he turns 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, glides forward. "That would be me," she says, 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 replies, pointing down at the pavers in the street. "The Great Khan has not lived a long life by trusting anyone a whisker more than he has to."

"I understand. If everyone will step back?" All of us including the prince take a few steps away from Zanzabel as she pulls a blue crystal from her pocket and kneels on the pavers. She whispers a few words, then hurls the gem onto the paving stones, smashing it apart. The crystal dissolves in a flash of blue light, resolving itself into Osiris' blue image, seated cross-legged as if waiting for the summons. Zanzabel prostrates herself in front of him, and they speak together a few moments before he motions for her to rise.

He rises with her. "Prince Varsena," Osiris' image says as he turns around, "I am honored to make your acquaintance."

Prince Varsena bows. "As I am yours, Lord Osiris." He hesitates. "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 disrupts it." The prince pulls out his Artifact sword and touches it to the image before waving the blade back and forth several times.

Then he steps back and sheathes 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 says, 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 answers. "The Great Khan has questions for the spirit of your sword, and Lys has found a way for your Rune sword to answer."