Amazonia

  As Amazonia slept, the wind whispered in the voice of Yasataar, “The Reaver Knight is far more than just a warrior. She stinks of Daemo sorcery and worse, her and the Chaldean Wardogs bound to her sword. Death follows them like a storm cloud of ravens... and yet, the Shadow Knight shall be far, far, worse. A sorceress of the Shadowlands shall sit upon her right shoulder while a Fox spirit sits upon her left, and when the Great Khan opens wide the gates, she will lead the dead out into the world of the living. For the People of the Eternal Sky have chosen. In their hearts, they have chosen.”

  Amazonia opened her eyes. She was standing before the Emperor’s Box on the sands of the Imperial arena, dressed only in her shift but holding the grey Rune sword in her hand. The elevated chairs of the Imperial Box were empty, as were the rows of benches to either side, the Eagle gate closed and locked. Only the wind whistling past her broke the silence. Looking up, the sky beyond the high walls was grey without the light of either sun or moon, and as she shook her head in confusion, realized the bars of the gates were only shadows, as were the Imperial chairs. Someone cleared their throat behind her and Amazonia whirled around with her sword out.

  Lord Paulus, her former Dominus, stood a spear-length away. Wearing the same clothes he’d died in, Paulus’s skin was corpse-pale, a dark stain on his tunic from the stomach wound caused by a Daemo’s crudely made spear. The same spear he now used as a staff to lean on. Without thinking, Amazonia dropped to one knee. “Dominus, what—”

  “Up, Az,” Lord Paulus said, making an upward motion with his free hand. “You no longer kneel to me. And it’s just Paulus, remember?”

  “Remembrance… Paulus,” she said in Roma as she rose back up. “Old habits cling to life.”

  “Understanding,” Paulus replied in the same tongue. He smiled. “Deeds sing own praises. Ear of emperor lost, yet certainty of imperial pleasure, even if no understanding of price paid.”

  Switching to Greco, Amazonia said quietly, “Do you understand the price I paid?”

  “I do now,” he replied, also in Greco, “and even though it is cold comfort, I wish that instead of transforming you into a Shadow Knight, there could have been a different path chosen.”

  Amazonia’s eyes narrowed. “Did you know what would be done to me?”

  Paulus snorted. “If I knew then what I know now, I would have worn chainmail underneath my tunic.” The ghost of a smile touched Az’s lips as Paulus’s face grew serious. “All I knew is what I was told, that you would be made a Reaver Knight and the other gladiators your Chaldean Wardogs. When Emperor Konstan paid the Ludus a visit as part of his annual tour and told me in confidence what Lady Jhadra was planning, I told him I thought the idea doomed to failure as well as a waste of valuable warriors. He told me you would be receiving help from an extremely unexpected source and nothing more.”

  Amazonia grounded the tip of her sword into the sands at her bare feet. “If knowledge given, would knowledge be shared?”

  Paulus looked away for a moment as if gathering his thoughts. “Certainty,” he replied, looking Az in the eyes. “Great power as Shadow Knight, fulfill lifelong dream of leading army.”

  “Great cost paid,” she countered.

  “I know it hurts when you transform—”

  “I can live with the pain,” Amazonia said, cutting him off. “It’s the changes to my personality when I’m the Shadow Knight that have me worried. That, and being Domina to my Wardogs. Paulus, all of them are still wearing slave collars in the form of tattoos, and if the spirit of the tattoo believes they’re not being loyal enough, it starts to hurt them.”

  Paulus leaned on his greenish-grey, gnarled spear as he sighed. “Did the guards ever talk about an African gladiator named Giant?”

  “Sergius did on several occasions. He told us Giant would’ve given Titan a hard fight.”

  “Only if Titan held himself back, like he always did fighting humans. Anyway, Giant was a champion, yet he was always gentle with me, allowing me to ride on his shoulders the same way Little Paulus rode on yours, when my mother went to the market or ran other errands. We became as close as the son of the Dominus and a slave can be.”

  “Sergius mentioned something about a scandal, but didn’t want to talk about it with slaves.”

  Paulus grimaced. “I imagine he did not. Mother took Giant into her bed, Sergius found out, and promptly informed my father. He divorced mother on the grounds of infidelity, and even though Giant, being a slave, could not tell her no, my father set up a match between Giant and a dozen Daemo spiders like the ones you fought.”

  Amazonia stared at him in horror. “A dozen against one man? No one except maybe Titan could destroy that many.”

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  “Giant did,” Paulus said with a grim smile. “It was the greatest fight the Imperial arena ever saw, until the coming of you and Titan. He fought like the god of the arena he was, sending every one of them back to the spawning pits, but his wounds were so severe that everyone knew he was going to die. I had been watching from the stands over the gladiator holding area, and as the guards brought him back and laid Giant on a bench, I ran away from my guardian and demanded the guards let me in, which they did.” He looked past her towards the shadows which were the holding area’s metal bars. “I remember telling Giant he wasn’t allowed to die.”

  “What did he say?”

  “Giant laughed, even though it hurt him, and told me he was going out exactly the way he wanted to be remembered, with his honor intact. I told him I’d always honor him, and he said, ‘Little Dominus, if you truly wish to honor me, don’t become like your father but remain the good person you are’. He died soon after saying that.” Paulus’s eyes met Amazonia’s. “The night he died, I made a vow to honor him the way he asked me to. I trained just as hard as any gladiator, and treated those under my hand as fairly as they deserved and protocol allowed.“

  “And you let Little Paulus ride on my shoulders the same way you once rode on Giant’s.”

  He nodded. “I did it for my son, but I also did it for you. I wanted to take away a measure of the pain I caused by having Lady Jhadra remove the womb from your body, denying you the ability to ever have children of your own.”

  Amazonia felt her face grow hot. “I wanted to be a champion more than anything, and children would’ve only gotten in the way.”

  “Az,” Paulus said, the familiar sardonic smile on his face, “you always were a terrible liar, at least to me. You accepted my decision, for which I will always be grateful, and you bonded with my son the same way Giant once bonded with me. Little Paulus needs you, Az, now more than ever before, because certain people suspect that he is not the true-born son I always claimed he was.”

  Amazonia sucked in her breath. “There were rumors－”

  “Which were the truth. An important man seduced my wife, and when I found out, he offered me a large sum of money to keep my silence. That sum, though far lower than her usual fee, allowed me to let Lady Jhadra craft your body the way we both wanted it.” Paulus looked away towards the Eagle gate and the Imperial Box. “I also did not want Little Paulus to suffer the loss of his mother the same way I did.”

  “Eurax needs to die,” Amazonia growled.

  “He does,” Paulus said as the sardonic smile returned, “and I hope yours will be the hand that slays him. More importantly, Little Paulus needs to be protected, and that is why I want you to consider giving him over to Titan, so the Ogri can keep him safe.”

  “To Titan? But I can—”

  “Az, hear me out. When the Rune sword transforms you into the Shadow Knight, you see signs that others do not, like the crown of bloody leaves the young, crimson haired priestess wore at her brow. Should you see something in Little Paulus that offends you, the Shadow Knight may do something you would never do as your normal self, something you may not be able to change.”

  Amazonia was already shaking her head. “I’m never becoming that creature again. Timur promised he wouldn’t ask, and even if he does, from what I heard from the other Bloodguards, Timur’s father will never allow the Shambler army to march.”

  “Never say never again,” Paulus replied. “What Titan told you and the others about the dark road of necromancy leading to corruption was the truth. Should Prince Timur find a way to become Khan of khans, the lure of power and battle glory will become a siren’s call to him, and the Shadow Knight leading the Shamblers into war the means to achieve his victory.” Paulus sighed. “And yet, if the other face of Janus might have his say, the only way I see your mission succeeding is for you and Timur to take that road.”

  “What if Timur keeps going? The Rune sword has bound me to his will, and if we go all the way to Tesiphon and take the city, what do I do if he wants to keep going and attack the Empire of the East?” A thought struck her and her eyes narrowed. “For that matter, why are we having this conversation at all? Apologies, Paulus, but you’re dead and this is only a dream.”

  “Listen to her,” a deep male voice said with a chuckle. As she whirled around, he added, “Next she’s going to say we’re the result of drinking too much wine.”

  Amazonia gaped for a moment before shutting her mouth. “Ragnar?” The blond, bearded warrior stood before her, still wearing the Artifact armor he’d died in, the plates cracked and dried blood staining the leather underneath. “Hel’s hairy armpits, what’re you doing here?”

  “You are not the only one bound to the Rune sword,” Paulus said as Ragnar walked past her to join their former Dominus. She turned around to face them both as Paulus added, “Antonius, as the spirit of the sword, has the power to bind the spirits of the dead to his will, if he chooses.”

  Ragnar chuckled. “The little shite-head wanted company.”

  “And a certain someone is being a bad influence,” Paulus said with a frown. “While I am trying to convince Antonius to shatter the sword when the mission is fulfilled, Ragnar is advising him not to shatter the sword until Timur has conquered everything he can.”

  “Normally we’re trapped in the sword and can’t sense much,” Ragnar said. “But when you’re the Shadow Knight, we’re free spirits able to watch everything that’s going on.” He shrugged. “It isn’t much of a life, but it’s the only one I’ve got until the sword shatters.”

  “Which is no reason to condemn Amazonia any longer than necessary. Az,” Paulus said, “if it seems like you have no choice but to continue becoming the Shadow Knight, as I fear will happen, I will do everything in my power to have Antonius shatter the sword at the right time, in exchange for your giving my son over to Titan’s care. Will you swear this to me?”

  Even though Little Paulus wasn’t his true-born child, it pleased Amazonia to hear him call the boy his son. “Oath given,” she said in Roma, “even if time’s passage shatters sword.”

  “Gratitude.” Paulus smiled as he reached out his hand. “Now, hour of awakening has come,” Paulus shaking her shoulder. “Arise from slumber…

  “Domina, wake up.” Az jerked awake as Fenris let go of her shoulder. “You nodded off.”

  She realized she was sitting in the common room on a cushion at one of the low tables, dressed in her now clean arming tunic and trousers. “We hated to wake you,” Greywolf said, dressed in a similar fashion, “but Castor’s almost got breakfast ready. You looked like you were dreaming.” Az yawned and stretched as she nodded, and Greywolf said, “What were you dreaming about?”

  Glancing at Fenris, whose tattoo she could see burned into his skin, she shrugged. “Nothing important,” Amazonia replied.