Amazonia

  Amazonia spent a boring morning in armor guarding Timur, dressed like a lord in a new blue tunic and black leggings tucked into his boots as he made a tour of Bukhara, with Porthos, his chief adviser, dictating to his scribes the problems needing to be fixed.

  They ended the tour at the Dancing Direwolf. “Amazonia,” Timur said as they entered the building, Porthos dismissing his scribes as they walked into the private room on the right, “I understand you took over this inn the night of the raid.”

  “Only until you decide what to do with it, my prince.”

  Karl and Lys, sitting at one of the tables drinking Kaffe, rose to their feet as Timur made a sweeping gesture with his arm. “I’ve made my decision: I’m giving it to you.”

  Az reared back a bit. “To me? But… I’ve no idea how to run a business, let alone an inn.”

  “Which is why you hire someone to run it for you,” Porthos said as he walked in, “and I know the perfect person. The cook, who Dancer told me came back this morning, was practically running it for Parnax before his untimely demise. Hire her on for better wages and you will have a steady stream of income in no time.”

  “Porthos,” Timur said with a smile, “help Amazonia set that up, and when you are finished,” he said to her, “remove your armor and join us at the table so we can lift a cup to celebrate your good fortune. You are now officially off duty.”

  Az inclined her head, touching her hand to her heart before Porthos led her into the kitchen. Cook, a matronly woman in a simple blue dress and stained apron, practically leaped for joy, thanking Amazonia over and over as the Nomads helped Az remove her armor and began cleaning off the brick dust while Dancer and Troll remained on guard in the common room. They rejoined the others, Az with the sheathed Rune sword in her hand and a serving girl behind them bearing a pitcher of wine and cups. The servant began pouring for everyone as they sat down, Az tucking the Rune sword in behind her.

  Everyone toasted Amazonia’s good fortune, then Timur and Porthos started discussing which problems in Bukhara needed to be fixed first, with occasional advice from Lys, nestled against Karl. A strange feeling tickled the back of Az’s mind and she turned her head as a grey shimmer appeared in the air beside her.

  Fox stepped through wearing the Artifact armor she'd worn when she’d left. The shimmer vanished as she said, "Apologies, Domina," Fox dropping to one knee as everyone else flinched in surprise before relaxing. "I come bearing news."

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

  "It has, my prince," she replied as Amazonia handed Fox the wine cup she’d been drinking from. Fox took a small sip and gave it back with murmured thanks. "However, it was a close thing."

  Fox knelt on the cushion beside Az and began telling them everything that had happened in the encampment the previous night. Timur laughed when she described how the women of the Crimson Horde mobbed the defenders trying to help Greywolf, then he sobered as Fox talked about Asena and Ghostdog. Amazonia could see him getting restless as Fox summarized Khan Khingla's speech, and as she mentioned the threat to bring in the Black Dragon clan into the Crimson Horde, Timur shook his head. "He must be truly desperate."

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

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

  "A reputation well deserved." Timur took 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 travel, and fought us for many years before peace was forged by my father, who took a Black Dragon woman as his third and last wife." He looks up at Az. "This wager between Titan and Asena, can the Ogri win?"

  Amazonia shrugged. "I'd say it depends on Asena's skill," she said, draining the wine cup and giving it to Fox, who rose to refill it from the ceramic pitcher. "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 said as she handed 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 said, "Asena and Greywolf were guards on the last caravan trip I made. We were attacked twice by brigands, and both times Asena 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 said as he finished his own wine. Fox stood again and put her hand next to the pitcher while making an inviting motion with the other. Timur nodded and she brought him the pitcher, kneeling close to the prince as she refilled his cup. "Asena and her cub are chaos made flesh," Timur went 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 shot to her feet. "You are the master of a city with a vault full of blood corn," she snapped, her hands set on her tiny hips," but only because of what Greywolf did. I fail to understand why you are so against him."

  Timur regarded her a moment as Fox returned the pitcher to the side table and knelt beside Az. "It all has to do with that time long ago when my people were little better than brigands," he said, leaning back against the wall. "Yadghu was the eldest son of the warlord, who had been a royal hostage in the Xian empire's imperial court. Negotiations between the emperor's officials and the warlord had broken down, but instead of executing Yadghu, as they’d threatened, the emperor had him educated and eventually returned him to his people."

  Timur took 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 hearts, especially among the young. So, when Yadghu returned, he 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 did happen peacefully… although," Timur chuckling as he added, "if the warlord had known how many warriors and their families would follow Yadghu, he might have changed his mind."

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

  "So it would seem." Timur stared into his wine cup as his voice grew 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."

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  "The balance of order versus chaos." Timur looked at Az and she nodded. "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 frowned. "How so?"

  Lys was giving Az a sly smile as she motioned at the Shadow Fae. "This isn't Hel's hordes running around eating people. Instead, the Shamblers, as they’re being called, are the most orderly army that's ever existed."

  "As long as you are leading it." Amazonia grimaced, looking down into her own wine cup until Lys came over and laid her small hand on Az’s arm. "I know it is not the pain you fear but the way it changes you."

  The front door opened as Amazonia said with a 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."

  Lys patted her arm. "You listened to me the night of the raid, and I promise—”

  "My prince, I bring tidings." The bead curtain chimed wildly as the Daemo priestess Sybil walked into the room, followed by the sickly looking priestess and the stout one who Az remembered smoked cigars, all of them wearing robes.

  Then a fourth woman in robes walked in behind them. "Ishi?" Amazonia sat up straight on her cushion. "I thought you'd been killed for betraying us."

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

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

  Ishi placed 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 held Sybil's gaze, who sighed and nodded once as Ishi removed her hand and turned towards them. Amazonia’s skin crawled as Ishi’s face began to ripple...

  Into a Maiden. Az had never wanted to be a man who lusted after women, but at that moment she wanted to be one with all her 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 felt the same, their faces hungry as Lys grinned at them with jagged teeth like shards of black ice. Ishtar smiled as her face rippled again...

  Into a Mother. Amazonia’s real mother's was a thousand leagues away and probably dead, but it didn't matter, for Az knew she would never loved her the way Ishtar could. Az was a child again in a way I didn't ever remember feeling. She could run to her and be comforted, never disobeying her wishes as she did to her real mother by joining the Javelin Corps, always listening when she spoke... No, her face's rippling again...

  Into a Crone. Amazonia drew back and the men did as well, Ishtar now wise as a dragon of Xian but more frightening than a legion of ghosts. Az knew she dared not cross her, nor displease her in any way, for to do so would risk being cursed until death and beyond. The Crone looked at her with eyes searing straight into Amazonia’s soul as her features rippled again...

  Back into Ishi's gentle face. Amazonia was panting hard as if she’d just fought a monster, Timur sharing her stunned expression as Porthos threw 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 said, interrupting him as she placed 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 raised him back up to his feet before motioning for him to sit again. He did so as Ishi took 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 said, "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 bowed 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 said, "and not a necromancer. But she must have found Necromantic texts in one of the strongholds of the last Daemo prince, and rather than destroy it, kept it hidden." She turned towards Lys. "I would have brought it to you, but I wanted to read it first, as I have read Necromantic lore books in the past."

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

  Ishi shook her head. "The first part was identical 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. The worst, though, was the creation of Shadowmen. Why Inanna did not burn those books I will never understand, and I would like you to raise her just long enough for me to find out her reasons."

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

  "Not to my knowledge," Lys replied. "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 was 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 hesitated. "However, there was something strange. Someone cast a preservation spell over her body right after she died."

  "Any idea who?" Karl asked.

  Ishi shook 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 trailed off as Timur stroked his beard again. "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 replied. "We tend to shrink after the first couple thousand years when our body’s production of mana slows down." Her face grew thoughtful. "Inanna lived for battle, and though a 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 said. "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 shrugged. "According to Cermet, the greater the amount of flesh and bone, the greater the amount of power needed to keep them going. But being larger they can hold more, so we do not have to replenish the Shadow mana they use as fast." She frowned. "I do not know you."

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

  "Why were you banished?" Amazonia asked.

  She gave Az 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."

  Az blinked. "Logistics?"

  Xaman rolled 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 replied. "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 exactly where every oasis and well is along the way, or else the soldiers in your army will start dropping from thirst."

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

  Lys stared 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 looked away, nodding to herself. "I need to do experiments. We need to know not only how long they can march, but also fight and do other tasks, like moving earth and stone."

  "We need to map out all the grey trees," Timur said. "Not just the ones around Bukhara, but all of them throughout the satrapies and the Sasnayam lands themselves."

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

  "Excellent," Xaman said 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 banged open, and a young woman’s breathless voice pants, "Where is Lady Ishi and Sybil? We have a crisis on our hands."

  "Here," Ishi called out. The robed figure rushed through into the private room and Ishi grabbed the girl by her shoulders. "What crisis?"

  The young woman took 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, now Inanna is demanding you attend her at once and make her queen of Bukhara."