Greywolf
Color returned to the world. Ishi screamed as two dead men tore at her clothes with whitish-grey fingers, and for a heart's single beat, men wearing black robes hooted as they clapped and used their fingers to point.
One heart's beat later, laughter became shrieks, then wet, bloody gurgles as swords and spears and axes tore the priests apart. Ishi's screams became a gasp as robed men fell around her, the two dead men collapsing to the stone floor as their necromancers died. Black robed bodies writhed on the floor a few moments before the warriors finished them off. One of the Bloodguard must have missed, though, because a priest darted away towards the chamber opening, his face looking back over his shoulder as Karl stepped in front of him with his axe raised.
Greywolf took his hand away from the grey tree as the priest looked forward... right at the battle-axe swinging straight down at his head. The weapon split his skull and the man crashed to the ground, his face a ruin of red and yellow gore. From behind Karl, distant screams and shouts echoed off the walls as Karl removed the axe blade from the body with a squelching sound, the last priest dying from a spear thrust into his chest. Greywolf looked around at the carnage and breathed deep through his nose.
Then wished he hadn't. "Ugh, this temple stinks like an old slaughterhouse."
"Oh, I don't know," Troll said as he used a dead priest's robe to wipe the blood off his sword blade, "I kind of like it."
"Troll, shut up," Amazonia snapped.
He gave Greywolf an evil grin. "Yes, Domina."
Argat, one of Prince Timur's Bloodguard, looked around at the carnage. "So that's it? What now?"
"Now," Karl replied, "we—” He gasped as he pointed at Ishi's feet. "Greywolf, 'ware!"
Greywolf’s head whipped around as the two dead men staggered to their feet. Ishi screamed again as they lurched towards him, everyone frozen in shock as the first one, built like a bull, lumbered against the tree and went ghostly, his form passing right through Greywolf while the second ran past the tree without touching it. He slammed into the Shadow-walker with his hands going for the throat as they fell.
The training Asena drilled into Greywolf took over. Letting the sword go, he grabbed the dead man’s ragged tunic and shoved his sandalled foot onto his chest as they hit the floor, rolling with his back arched as he pushed out. The dead man flipped over him and landed on the floor with a sickening crunch. Greywolf made it to his knees as he drew the Artifact knife... Shite, he's lurching to his feet again.
To his left, Amazonia swung hard, her Rune sword biting deep into the dead skull as Greywolf stood up. The dead man staggered as she ripped the blade out, the others yelling as they rushed forward, but the dead man didn’t stop... leap back, shite, he's got me by the front of my armor. His dead hands slammed Greywolf backwards against the grey tree. Color bled from the world as everything went silent, the others only shadows frozen in mid-swing or thrust, unable to help him as the dead man's fingers closed on his throat.
But they were in the Shadowlands now. Greywolf drew power from the Grey, and with his free hand gripped the dead man’s fingers and squeezed. Finger bones snapped like rotten branches until he was able to get the hand off his neck and push the dead man away. Then Greywolf stabbed him under the breastbone with the Artifact knife straight into his heart.
Before, when Greywolf had been forced to kill a dead man in the Grey, the body would fall away and dissolve into a grey mist, which would then vanish, even though the real corpse remained where it laid on Earth. But this walking corpse crumbled into chunks of black ash which fell at his feet. Shite, don't gape at it; where's the other one? He noticed movement to his right and turned with the knife out.
The other dead man held up his hands. "Stop, please don't hurt me. My name's Ahmed, and I'm a butcher in Bukhara."
Shite, this can't be for real... can it? I mean, it must be, because Lys said the dead don't lie... unless she's the one lying. Wotan's bloody bones, just keep the knife ready. "Why did you attack me earlier?"
"Did I? I don't remember anything after the priests pulled me out of my cell and brought me to a terrible place with a stone altar covered in dried blood. They were chanting, and I remember growing colder and colder..." The broad face looked as if it was about to shed tears, even though Greywolf knew it couldn’t. "Am I dead?"
Shite, what do I tell him? "Ah... yes, I'm afraid you are. The priests killed you somehow, then raised you back up to be a Revenant, whatever that is." He motioned towards the woman's shadowy form on the other side of the writhing tendrils of Grey. "They commanded you to hurt Ishi."
"Ishi the mage?" Greywolf nodded, and Ahmed shook his head. "Ishi is a friend; I'd never do anything to hurt her, never." The dead man looked at his hands, then back at me. "What are you going to do with me?"
Greywolf didn’t have the slightest idea. Think, idiot. "Alright, we're in the Shadowlands now, but if I bring you back to the real world without warning, the others will likely kill you... again. But if you get down on your knees and keep your hands on your thighs, they might not see you as a threat. Just don't move, alright?"
"I don't understand why, but if you want me to do this, I will do as you say." Dead Ahmed dropped to his knees, placed his palms on his thighs, and looked up at him. Shite, here goes nothing. Greywolf touched one of the tendrils and brought them back into the real world.
Color rushed back into the world as the fighters around him gave a start. "Greywolf," Dancer said as he swung his spear towards the dead man's chest, "are you alright?"
The Nomads said in unison, "You were moving so fast, we were not sure."
"I'm fine, and the dead man says he's peaceful."
"Peaceful?" Amazonia gave Greywolf an incredulous look as she raised her sword over the dead man. "He tried to attack you."
"But he didn't," Fox said, moving out from behind Amazonia. "As a Shadow-walker, my eyes see into Twilight space better than anyone else, and he never made any threatening gestures."
"I told him to stay down and so far he's obeying me. He told me his name's Ahmed, and that he's a butcher here... or was, at least."
"Ahmed the butcher?" Ishi walked carefully around the grey tree and stopped behind him. She gasped, "It is Ahmed." Her eyes met Greywolf’s. "He used to sell me chicken meat before he was accused of withholding his tithes to the temple of Yun-Kax. You spoke to him?" Greywolf nodded, and she gave him a puzzled look. "I don't understand how. He doesn't know Greco."
"Blame Lys," Karl said as he joined them. "The spell she cast in the Shadowlands lets you hear what the dead want to say, not the actual language, because in the Shadowlands they don't physically need to speak."
"But in the real world they have to." Karl nodded, and Greywolf looked at Ishi. "See if Ahmed will talk to you."
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She shuddered. "I just want you to know this is not what I expected to be doing tonight. Okay, I'll talk to him, but I want you between us with your sword out in case he gets mad, alright?"
The katana was near his feet, so Greywolf grabbed it by the hilt and stood over Ahmed as Ishi took a spot behind the Shadow-walker with her head out just enough to talk. She began speaking in their language, and the dead man replied, though he spoke awkwardly as if trying to remember how to talk. Karl was listening, and after a few moments said, "Ahmed knows he's dead, but it doesn't seem to be bothering him." The warriors around them were easing up on their weapons since Ahmed remained on the floor, but they still kept them to hand as Karl snorted. "Ahmed just told her he wants to go home and be with his wife."
Troll barked out a laugh. "Oh, that will end well."
"Ishi's trying to talk him out of it." Ishi seemed to be losing her fear of him, for she moved around Greywolf and put her hands on her hips as she scolded Ahmed, who shook his head as if telling her no. Karl grimaced. "I don't think he's going to listen to reason."
Ishi broke off arguing to look at Greywolf. "Ahmed's more stubborn dead than he was alive. What do we do now?"
Shite, how would I know? Probably not a tactful thing to admit, though. "We can't let him leave, or it'll cause an uproar, but War-leader Kula's not going to want to leave someone here to guard him."
"I'm not sure he would stay put," Ishi admitted
Greywolf turned towards Karl. "You know Lys better than anyone. Should we drop this in her lap?"
"That's actually not a bad idea," Karl replied, scratching his chin. "If Ahmed had merely been raised, he would've dropped like a stone the minute his master died and remained there. But he’s still up and talking, which means he must be a Revenant."
"You know a lot about this business," Amazonia said.
"More than I'd like to. Anyway, I'm guessing Lys will want to see if she can gain control of him, or—”
"Get out of my way," Titan's deep voice rumbled behind them. Glancing over his shoulder, the Ogri was stalking towards them with his great sword in one hand and a face like a war god's full of fury. Greywolf pulled Ishi back as the others scrambled out of the way of Titan, who stopped in front of the kneeling dead man and raised his sword.
Ishi pulled against his grip. "Stop," she squealed, fear and frustration wrestling for control of her voice. "Ahmed was a good man."
Titan put both hands on the sword hilt as if an executioner. "It matters not whether he was a good man or bad. He is now an abomination." Ahmed looked up with a calm expression as Titan swung, the blade sighing before shearing through his neck and into his shoulder with a meaty thunk. Ahmed's body flopped over as Titan pulled the sword out, the head dribbling out a dark liquid as he kicked the corpse onto its back, then drove the sword point through its heart. Bones cracked, and a moment later the steel came back dripping black blood.
Everyone including Prince Timur was keeping back except for Amazonia, who stalked up in front of the Ogri as Titan used the dead man's tunic to wipe off his blade. "Why did you do that? Lys might have found a use for him."
Titan gave her a dark look. "In the beginning, I told you there were lines I would not cross." With the tip of his sword, he pointed at the still twitching body. "This is one of them. And you," Titan letting go of the sword with one hand before pointing the tip at Greywolf’s face, "should be killing the dead, not coddling them."
"Don't chastise the boy," Prince Timur growled. "I wanted to learn more of the arts Lys practices, and Greywolf's actions answered questions I didn't realize I had."
Greywolf blinked. Prince Timur's defending me? Amazonia answered his questioning look with a knowing smile he didn't understand as Titan turned towards the prince. "There are questions that should never be answered, and this is one of them. Necromancy is an evil I have fought against ever since the last Daemo prince taught humans how to bring the dead back to a state of unlife, and evil must be uprooted and destroyed wherever it is found."
"Evil? Let me tell you about evil." Titan lowered the tip of his sword to the floor and rested both hands on the hilt as Prince Timur strode over to glare up at the Ogri. "The world calls my people evil because we exist, because we live as our fathers lived, and their fathers before them. Because we are free."
"They call you evil because you slaughter their men and enslave their women and children, taking with you everything not nailed down."
Amazonia joined the prince as did her men, along with the two other Bloodguards while Prince Timur smiled. "You're wrong. If something is nailed down, we find a way to pull out the nails and take the valuable item with us." The two Tartaros warriors chuckled as the prince became stern once more. "We also honor the promises we make, unlike the so-called 'civilized' empires, that break their word of honor before the ink's even dry on their treaties. Only when we are betrayed do we go against our promises to punish the oath-breakers."
"Your father feels differently."
"My father is becoming a doddering old fool. The only way we can exist alongside the Sasnayams is to bend our necks and let them place a slave yoke around it, and I will never let my people suffer such a degradation. I will see the People of the Eternal Sky destroyed down to the smallest child first."
"Then it is a good thing that Avitohol is the heir and not you." Titan leaned over Prince Timur. "Because if you were khan and you led your people down this dark path, I would have to become your enemy. You would not enjoy having me as your enemy."
"Bells of Hades," Amazonia snapped as she moved to stand beside the prince, "why should raising a dead man to fight be any more evil than anything else men do to themselves, or to women? Slaves tortured when they wouldn't submit, rape, children sold to the brothels."
"Children burned alive by the priests of Ba'al," Dancer added in a quiet voice.
"Poor Wysper having her abnormal mana node cut out of her body while the crowd watched," Ishi said, "which used to be the hearts of those girls whose mana nodes were not quite strong enough to let them cast spells, yet strong enough to catch the priest's attention when the girls were tested."
"Wysper's hands," Greywolf chimed in.
Titan raised his own hand to stop them from going on. "I hear what each of you is telling me, and if it were only having undead warriors fighting for a good reason, I would command my morals to be silent and carry on. However, it would not stop there. Dancer, you spoke of Ba'al, who was a Celestial of Carthago. Have you ever heard of the abominations he created, called Shadowmen?"
"Shadowmen are a legend of doomed Carthago." The rest of them except Titan and Dancer gave Amazonia a questioning look, and she said, "The old warriors of the Javelin Corps I fought for before the Etruscans enslaved me, used to tell stories about them. They said in the days when Ba'al still walked the earth, his most feared servants were the Shadowmen, tough warriors as pale as death, with red eyes and a hunger for human flesh."
"I've heard that legend as well," Dancer said. "If you cut them, not only did they not bleed, but if you chopped off their hand, they could sew it back on and keep using it. They drank human blood as if it were wine."
"To them it is wine," Titan rumbled, "and they do bleed if you give them a mortal wound."
"Like the ones you just gave Ahmed," Greywolf said to him.
Titan nodded. "A Revenant is a minor Lich, and all of them have at their core a substance the color of thick, black blood. Should a mortal man drink this Lich blood while a certain spell is being cast, a transformation begins, and if he survives the transformation, he becomes a Shadowman. They feel no pain, only pleasure, are extremely tough to kill without using Artifact weapons, and never age another day. They also cannot heal their wounds, and must sew or bolt together any torn flesh to keep it from continuing to tear."
"What about sewing the hand back on?" Dancer asked.
"That part at least is a lie. If you cut off their hand, it shrivels and turns black." He looked at Prince Timur. "What makes them dangerous is that once a necromancer creates one, she does not control it. When Ba'al created the first Shadowmen, they ignored his orders and began creating Shadowmen of their own just by mixing a little of their black blood in wine and having ordinary men drink it. Those men became Shadowmen absolutely loyal to the one whose blood created them."
Prince Timur asked, "What did Ba'al do?"
"Killed them all when he discovered what they were doing. Then he turned himself into a Shadowman, using the Necromantic principles he had learned, and in turn his captains, who recruited Shadowmen of their own under Ba'al's orders. Prince Timur, do you know why the priests of the Ba'al cult, who still believe he is a god who shall someday return, burn children alive?" The prince shook his head. "Because Ba'al liked them as fresh as possible before being roasted. His cultists believe that, if they can only find the perfect child to burn, Ba'al will come back and reward them all by turning them into Shadowmen themselves, before launching a new crusade to enslave the known world. To Shadowmen, all living people are cattle to be used for food and pleasure"
"By the sacred bones of our ancestors," Prince Timur said, "that's horrible."
Titan nodded once. "Now do you understand why I am opposed to this practice?" Titan's eye caught the Shadow-walker’s. "Greywolf, Ishi, we have wasted too much time. Come with me so the next part of our plan can get started."
Ishi fell in with Greywolf, and they followed Titan as he headed for the passage beyond the chamber. Behind them, Prince Timur called out, "Titan, if I became the Great Khan in place of my father, there would be no reason to oppose me, because I would never go down the same path Ba'al did."
Titan slowed as he glanced over his shoulder. "Even Ba'al believed that, in the beginning."

