Amazonia - Ishi

I spent a boring morning in armor guarding Timur, who's dressed like a lord in a new blue tunic and black leggings tucked into his boots, while he made a tour of Bukhara as his chief adviser, Porthos, dictated to his scribes the problems needing to be fixed. Fortunately, he ended the tour at the Dancing Direwolf, which Timur then gave to me as a reward for faithful service. So, what am I going to do with an inn? Drink good wine, of course, and let someone else run it.

Which is what we're doing right now, sitting on cushions in the private room. Fenris's sleeping and the Nomads are cleaning my armor, while Dancer and Troll remain on guard in the common area, Timur and Porthos discussing which problems need fixing first with occasional advice from Lys, who's nestled against Karl. A strange feeling tickles the back of my mind, and I turn my head as a grey shimmer appears in the air beside me.

Before I can warn anyone, Fox steps through wearing gauzy clothing leaving her belly exposed, and not the Artifact armor she'd worn when she left. The shimmer vanishes as she says, "Apologies, Domina," dropping to one knee as everyone else flinches in surprise before relaxing. "I come bearing news."

Timur leans against the wall as he reaches for the wine cup on the sideboard beside him. "Has the betrothal taken place?"

"It has, my prince," she replies as I hand her my wine cup. Fox takes a small sip and gives it back with murmured thanks. "However, it was a close thing."

Fox kneels on the cushion I pull out so everyone can see her, and begins telling us all that happened in the encampment last night, Timur laughing when she describes how the women of the White Horde mobbed the defenders trying to help Greywolf. Then he sobers as Fox talks about Asena and Ghostdog. He gets restless as she summarizes Khan Khingla's speech, and as Fox mentions the threat to bring the Black Dragon clan into the White Horde, Timur shakes his head. "He must be truly desperate."

"My prince," Fox says, "most of your people were outraged at the suggestion."

Porthos adds, "Bukhara remembers the Black Dragon raids. They were fearsome fighters with a grim reputation."

"A reputation well deserved." Timur takes a swallow of wine before staring into the cup. "The Black Dragon clan is what the People of the Eternal Sky used to be, back when the worship of Tengri was just beginning to take root and we were little better than brigands. Their clan sees us as traitors to the true path Tengri means for us to take, and fought us for many years before peace was forged by my father, taking a Black Dragon woman as his wife." He looks up at me. "This wager between Titan and Asena, can the Ogri win?"

I shrug. "I'd say it depends on Asena's skill," draining the wine cup and giving it to Fox, who rises to refill it from the ceramic jug. "When Titan's opponent is something he hates, like a Daemo monster, his ferocity's a scary thing. I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of it."

"But he and Asena are old friends," Fox says as she hands the wine cup back.

"Exactly. Titan's not going to want to hurt her, and I'm wondering if he won't hold back some like he did when we were fighting human opponents in the arena."

"If I might throw in my silver piece's worth," Porthos says, "Asena and Greywolf were guards on the last caravan trip I made, and twice when we were attacked, she fought with an inhuman viciousness I would never wish to go against. When I spoke to Greywolf about it later, he told me she fights every fight that way unless it is a training bout... and even then shows no mercy. If Titan goes in holding back, he may regret it."

"I win either way," Timur says as he finishes his own wine. Fox stands and puts her hand next to the jug while making an inviting motion with the other; Timur nods, and she brings the jug, kneeling close to the prince as she pours. "Asena and her cub are chaos made flesh," he goes on, "and the People of the Eternal sky saw that last night. Once I'm burned in effigy and can establish my own Khanate here, neither one of them will ever be a problem again."

Lys gets to her feet. "You are the master of a city with a vault full of blood corn," her hands set on her tiny hips, "because of what Greywolf did. I fail to understand why you are so against him."

Timur regards her a moment as Fox stands and returns the jug to the side table. "It all has to do with that time long ago when my people were little better than brigands," he finally says, leaning back against the wall. "Yadghu was the eldest son of the warlord, and as part of a peace treaty, had become a royal hostage in the Xian empire's imperial court.

“The legend tells that the warlord hated his son so much that he broke the treaty so Yadghu would die, but instead of execution, the emperor had him educated and eventually returned him to his people."

Timur takes a swallow of wine. "Yadghu had already embraced Tengri, bringing with him the first Keeper of the Spirits, and the religion swept through the People, taking hold in many, especially the young. Yadghu clashed with his father, who still worshiped the spirits of his ancestors, leading to the warlord having his son declared dead. Now, Yadghu also had with him a disgraced Etruscan general, who suggested Yadghu hold his own funeral games as the Etruscans did, and invite the warlord as a way of establishing peace between the two tribes. Both father and son agreed and the split happened peacefully.

Timur chuckles. "However, if the warlord had known how many would follow Yadghu, he might have changed his mind."

Karl says, "And now you've become the new Yadghu."

"So it would seem." Timur stares into his wine cup as his voice grows thoughtful. "This is why I want Greywolf and his mother as far away from us as possible. My father believes he does the right thing with this idea of settling down, yet all I see is a return to the days of the warlord, with a wolf-monster as Avitohol's Bloodguard and savage, Black Dragon clan barbarians swaying his ideas."

"Order versus chaos." Timur looks at me and I nod. "Titan used to talk about it, but I've never really understood what he meant until now. You want to preserve order among your people by unleashing chaos on the Sasnayams, yet by using Lys, you're doing it in the most orderly way possible."

Timur frowns. "How so?"

Lys' giving me a sly smile as I motion at her. "This isn't Hel's hordes running around eating people, but the most orderly army that's ever existed."

"As long as you are leading it." I grimace, looking down into my own wine cup until Lys comes over and lays her small hand on my arm. "I know it is not the pain you fear but the way it changes you."

The front door opens, probably more messages for Timur, and I ignore it as I sigh. "Lys, I can't shake the feeling that someday I'm going to do something I'll never be able to forgive myself for doing."

She pats my arm. "You listened to me the night of the raid, and I promise-"

"My prince, I bring tidings." The bead curtain chimes wildly as the Daemo priestess Sybil walks into the room, followed by the sickly looking priestess and the stout one who I remember smokes cigars, all of them wearing robes.

Then a fourth woman in robes walks in behind them. "Ishi?" I sit up straight on my cushion. "I thought you'd been killed for betraying us."

Sybil gives me a cold look. "My lady only pretended to betray you. In truth, my lady Ishtar was vital for our plan to succeed."

Timur raises his eyebrows. "You are telling me that the minor-mage who used to do my laundry is actually the Celestial Ishtar in disguise?"

Ishi places her hand on the Daemo's narrow shoulder. "Sybil, let me show them so we can move on."

"But my lady, your mana supply-"

"Greywolf renewed a good portion of it when he replenished the Firestone in my belly. I promise: only a brief taste so they understand, and no more." Ishi holds Sybil's gaze, who sighs and nods once as Ishi removes her hand and turns towards us. My skin crawls as her face begins to ripple...

Into a Maiden. I've never in my life wanted to be a man who lusts after women, but right now, I want it with all my heart. I want to lust after this woman. It's not the exotic way she looks, her hair silky and luxurious with flawless brown skin soft as goose down, but the aura she's giving off. She would be the bed-slave I've always wanted, giving herself to me in total submission, her body the altar I'd worship at for the rest of my life. Timur, Porthos and Karl feel this too, their faces hungry as Lys grins at us with jagged teeth like shards of black ice. Ishtar smiles as her face ripples again...

Into a Mother. My real mother's a thousand leagues away and probably dead, but it doesn't matter, for she never loved me the way Ishtar will. I'm a child again in a way I don't remember ever feeling. Right now, I could run to her and be comforted, never disobeying her wishes, as I did to my real mother by joining the Javelin Corps, always listening when she speaks... no, her face's rippling again...

Into a Crone. I draw back and the men do as well, Ishtar now wise as a dragon of Xian but more frightening than a legion of ghosts. I dare not cross her, nor displease her in any way, for to do so would risk being cursed until death and beyond. She looks at me and her eyes sear straight into my soul as her face ripples again...

Back into Ishi's gentle features. I'm panting as if I've just fought a combat, Timur sharing my stunned expression as Porthos throws himself at Ishi's feet. "Ishtar, forgive me. I swear to you that if I had any inkling of who you were, I would never-"

"Porthos, stop," Ishi says, interrupting him as she places her hand on his head. "Yes, you could be condescending, but you were always kind, and never tried to take liberties with my body, as others did." She raises him back up to his feet, then motions for him to sit again. He does so as Ishi takes a deep breath. "Akbal," her hand motioning towards the sickly priestess, "found Inanna's body in the charnel pits and asked if it was possible for her to be raised."

"If it can be done," Akbal says, "then I will serve her more faithfully than I served the Sasnayams. When I was banished here, I found Inanna's sacred books, which I kept to myself instead of turning them over to the temple." She bows to Ishi. "However, once the truth of the lady was revealed to me, I showed them to her."

"My sister was a warrior born," Ishi says, "and not a necromancer. But she had found Necromantic texts in one of the strongholds of the last Daemo prince, and rather than destroy it, kept it hidden." She turns towards Lys. "I would have brought it to you, but I wanted to read it first, as I have read Necromantic lore books before."

Lys asks, "Was it the same as what you had read?"

Ishi shakes her head. "The first part was, and I skimmed through the contents, but the second half was totally new. Evil practices, such as the creation of Shades, which are strong spirits sundered from traveling on to their next existence and can possess the dead, to transforming living Celestials not just into a Revenant, but into a true Lich, and finally, the creation of Shadowmen. Why she did not burn those books, I will never know, and I would like you to raise her just long enough for me to find out."

Timur asks, "Has anyone ever raised a Celestial before?"

"Not to my knowledge," Lys replies. "Ishi," her voice becoming sharp, "is it possible that Inanna used this spell to transform herself? Because if she is a Lich in truth, there is no way anyone can control her."

Ishi's already shaking her head. "Even if she had wanted to, there was no time. When the Sasnayams came, it was like a whirlwind, and Inanna fought in battle after battle, defeat after defeat, until the final battle here. The process, according to the lore, takes weeks with a dedicated priesthood assisting in the transition." She hesitates. "However, there was something strange. Someone cast a preservation spell over her body right after she died."

"Any idea who?" Karl asks.

Ishi shakes her head again. "I am guessing she had a secret priestess who knew something about the practice, but as to what happened to her?"

Ishi trails off as Timur strokes his beard. "Instead of just raising Inanna long enough to talk, what about using her as part of the army? She is what, eight, nine feet tall?"

"Seven foot," Ishi replies. "We tend to shrink after the first couple thousand years, when our bodies production of mana slows down." Her face grows thoughtful. "Inanna lived for battle, and though part of me is heartsick at the thought of my sister's corpse being used in such a way, were she with us, she would want to carry on the fight."

"Let's all take a breath and think about this," the stout priestess with the broad face says. "Leaving the ethics of building an army of Shamblers aside, you're going to need more of your power to keep Inanna's body going, right?"

Lys shrugs. "According to Cermet, the greater the amount of flesh and bone, the greater the amount of power needed to keep them active. But being larger they can hold more, so we do not have to replenish the Shadow mana they use as fast." She frowns. "I do not know you."

"Xaman the Traveler," the woman replies, "banished to the backwater of the empire, and now loyal priestess of Ishtar."

"Why were you banished?" I ask.

She gives me a broad smile. "For calling the priesthood of Tesiphon a pack of jackals, to start. Any road, if you want this Shambler army to actually be effective, you need to start thinking about its logistics."

I blink. "Logistics?"

Xaman rolls her eyes. "Logistics rule the world, and that includes magic. Now, I understand that Lys produces this... what did you call it?"

"Shadow mana," Lys replies. "The mana nodes in my body produce it naturally, while normal necromancers and Revenants need to draw it from the grey trees where the walls between the worlds are weak."

"Exactly my point. Think of it this way: if you're taking an army through the Khitian waste, you need to know precisely where every oasis and well is along the way, or else the soldiers in your army will start dropping from thirst."

Timur snaps his fingers. "Logistics. Lys, how long can a Shambler march before needing their Shadow mana replenished?"

Lys stares at him for a few moments. "I have no idea. In the past, all I would do is raise a corpse to speak with it, or use a body to accomplish some task, then let it go." She looks away, nodding to herself. "I need to do experiments, not only how long can they march, but also fight, and do other tasks like moving earth and stone."

"We need to map out all the grey trees," Timur says, "not just around Bukhara, but all through the satrapies and the Sasnayam lands themselves."

"Sift through the legends and places the merchants avoid," Porthos says. "Then send your outriders to confirm their location without giving their purpose away."

"Excellent," Xaman says with a grin. "We've already begun recruiting prophets, and along with spreading the word, they can look for these locations as well-"

The door to the inn bangs open. "Where is Lady Ishi and Sybil," a young woman's breathless voice pants. "We have a crisis on our hands."

"Here," Ishi calls out. The bead curtain's bells jangle wildly as a robed figure rushes through, and Ishi grabs the girl by her shoulders. "What crisis?"

The young woman takes a sobbing breath. "It is Cermet. She ripped the spear out of the guard's hand and killed him with it, then chased the rest of us away so she could raise Inanna herself. But then Cermet dropped like a puppet with its strings cut as Inanna got to her feet and grabbed the spear." The girl clutched Ishi's hand. "My lady, Inanna is demanding you attend her at once and make her queen of Bukhara immediately."