Wysper

  Greywolf's father looked familiar.

  Wysper’s expression mirrored her puzzlement, because there was no chance they could have ever met before. Perhaps it was because he reminded her of a Pict from the north of Britannia, with a face craggy and weather-worn as their mountains, his silver-grey hair tangled and shadowed as their forests. The plates on his Artifact armor were cracked and pitted like broken black mirrors.

  Yet what truly made him seem a Pict was the way he stood before a raging goddess out of legend and showed no trace of fear. If anything, he looked exasperated. "Asena," he said in a voice rough as gravel, "how could I let the truest lover I've ever had die? Who else would've given me the son I've always wanted? Now, will you please stop all this nonsense and embrace your old friend."

  Asena threw her furry arms around the man and pulled him in, giving him a hug that would have crushed Wysper’s bones despite the armor he wore, the leather satchel at his side bouncing as she lifted him up. Not only did he endure it, but the old man gave her back a fierce hug of his own, the two of them locked in a tight embrace as Titan's voice behind them rumbled, "Ghostdog, is all well?"

  They let go of each other and Ghostdog raised his eyebrows at Asena, who hung her head. "I yield, Titan. My word of honor to never hurt the girl or interfere with their betrothal." She looked up. "If Khan Khingla wants me to leave, I will."

  "If I let you remain here," the Great Khan's voice called out from behind us, "will you let your son become Avitohol's Bloodguard, as my son wants?"

  Asena's expression turned indecisive as she hesitated, and Titan said, "The next ritual in declaring Timur dead are the funeral games. I know you are still upset with me for allowing you to be drugged, so with the Great Khan's permission I will propose a wager: a fight between us with blunted weapons. The terms shall be—”

  "I'll set the terms," Asena growled, rising to her feet. "If I win, Greywolf and his betrothed come with me, away from all the madness I see coming."

  Titan folded his massive arms over his armored chest. "And if I win?"

  Asena looked past him. "Khan Khingla, if Titan wins, then I shall swear fealty to your son, Avitohol, as his Bloodguard and teacher in Greywolf's place. I've fought battles from one end of the known world to the other for several thousand years, and while Titan's the better strategist, no one can beat me in teaching fighting skills." She motioned towards Greywolf. "My son remains free to fight at his side, if he wants, but able to walk away if he wants." Folding her arms in echo of Titan's, Asena said, "So, what say you?"

  Glancing over her shoulder, Wysper saw the Great Khan standing on top of the mound with Prince Avitohol and Prince Varsena beside him, along with the Tartaros warrior Kula. More Tartaros warriors stood ready behind him, as did spearmen with red shields, while off to one side the wolfish Lycaon, Castor, along with the Daemo Shadow-walker, were standing with a flame-haired woman warrior-mage. More Tartaros warriors stood behind them.

  The Great Khan frowned. "Titan, do you believe you can win this wager?"

  "Without a doubt," Titan rumbled, "or else I would not have offered it."

  "Then I will trust your judgment and accept the wager."

  Asena's eyes narrowed. "You seem pretty sure of yourself. You know I'm the better fighter."

  "And I always fight better when there is more at stake," Titan replied.

  "Great Khan," the flame-haired woman called out, "since we are speaking of the games, the Daemo with me has a message from Timur, while I have a message from Khan Huldin. May we approach?"

  "Granted," he called back. The blue glowing image of Osiris floated out from behind the warriors, and the Great Khan said, "Lord Osiris, is this the courier you spoke of?"

  The image had faded substantially, yet could still be clearly seen. "He is. Ghostdog, let Titan bring the satchel with the betrothal agreement over her so you may spend more time with your son before you leave."

  "Leave?" The happy expression on Greywolf's face shattered. "But papa, you just got here."

  Ghostdog handed the satchel to Titan, who took it with him up the mound to where the Great Khan and the others were waiting, as Ghostdog turned and embraced his son. Greywolf hugged him back with a grip as fierce as Asena's. They finally let go and Ghostdog said, "I wish I could stay longer than two or three days, but I need to walk the Shadowlands to Britannia and see just how bad things are."

  At the mention of her homeland, Wysper gasped, and Ghostdog turned towards her. "Wysper, apologies for my lack of manners in mentioning what must be a touchy subject."

  "No apologies needed," she replied. "I am only concerned over the welfare of my people. Will you return soon?"

  "As soon as I gather everything Osiris needs to decide what to do, if anything, and whether or not to offer aid." He gave her a sly wink. "Fortunately, I was able to steal one of those image summoning gems off of the new head priestess of Osiris in Bukhara, so I can return the moment I'm finished and give him my report from here without trudging all the way to to Aegyptus."

  Asena gave him an amused snort. "Does Osiris know?"

  "It must've slipped my mind," he replied with another wink, "but I'm sure he'll figure it out."

  The others chuckled, but Wysper’s face remained serious as she asked, "Syr Ghostdog, will he give my people aid if the situation is dire?"

  Ghostdog turned and gave her a warm smile. "First thing, it's just Ghostdog or papa, since you're part of the family now and I know your own father is dead." She gaped at him a moment in shock before closing her mouth, and he said, "Apologies again. Pan told me about you the last time I visited… oh, about a year ago, I believe, and all about what happened."

  Shock upon shock! "You know the god Pan?"

  Ghostdog cocked his head as he regarded her. "All of the Oldenbloods remaining on Earth fought with me during the War of the Princes, and most of us are old friends."

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  "Not Wotan, I hope," Asena growled.

  "Not after the way he treated you," Ghostdog said, "and there are others who’ve lost their way as well. Anyway," his gaze returning to Wysper, "according to Pan, the raid on his temple was a tragedy, but it shocked the Brittani tribes out of their complacency and the Picts as well. All the tribes quit bickering and formed a confederation, which then formally allied with the Pictish tribes to the north."

  Wysper gasped again. "The Picts... is this true?"

  Ghostdog shrugged. "It was at least a year or so ago. Oh, the alliance might have broken down, but I don't think so. Pan gave to the Picts some of the Blood oats he'd preserved and stored away, and in return they allowed the Iceni to build forts along the southern border of Pictland, as well as establish the new temple well up in the highlands. Pan told me there's been a cross-cultural mixing like never before, and while the Brittani aren't strong enough to get rid of the Gaul's new fiefdoms on the southern edge of the island, they've set up watchtowers and let the Picts raid along the borders."

  "So the Kingdom of the Gauls cannot accuse the Brittani of violating their treaties."

  "Exactly." Ghostdog stopped and gave her a gentle smile. "Your kidnapping by the Sasnayams has likely saved the Brittani people from extinction."

  Wysper began to tremble. "The druids taught us that to bind ourselves to strange gods was a mortal, unforgivable sin."

  "Heimdall's hairy chestnuts," Asena said with a snort. "I wrote the Code of the Oldenbloods with Odin while he was still alive, which the others adapted when they began establishing realms of their own, and it states specifically that it's binding yourself willingly that's an offense." She snorted again. "Trust humans to bend the rules to suit their own needs."

  "That's one reason they're doing so well compared to the other races," Ghostdog replied, looking at her. "Do you remember anything about the raid?"

  Wysper shook her head. "Fragments of creatures out of nightmares and a feeling of terror is all that comes to mind. I did not realize what had happened until we woke up in Tesiphon." She rubbed her tears away with the heels of her hands. "I tried to resist—"

  Asena snorted again, interrupting her. "Against Muzen? Girl, you never stood a chance... and if the druids ever try bringing charges against you, I'll rewrite the Code again using their entrails."

  Rewrite... surely she cannot be serious, can she? Ghostdog smiled at the look on her face. "While that might be entertaining to watch, it won't be necessary. Pan has vowed vengeance against the Sasnayams, specifically Muzen, but he told me himself that you and Myra and Thalia are considered to be blameless. You can return to Britannia someday with a clear conscience and an eager heart."

  Blameless... Tears flowed down her face and Greywolf was there, his arms around her as she clung to him. Wysper buried her face on his chest as a weight upon her soul, one she never realized existed, dissolved and did not return.

  A cloak was thrown over both of them and she raised her head to see the Lycaon Castor giving them a wolfish smile. "Greywolf, I think you dropped this."

  Greywolf returned a boyish grin as Prince Varsena joined them as well. "During your raid, one of the Chosen found the Artifact that Muzen used to speak with the crowds and it seems to work for anyone. So the Great Khan is going to use it and asked me to translate for you."

  Greywolf said, "Is he upset over what the women did?"

  Prince Varsena grimaced. "You have no idea."

  The clearing of a man's throat echoed across the torchlit area and the darkness beyond, startling the murmuring crowd into silence. Greywolf let Wysper just go enough so they could both watch as the Great Khan began to speak. After a moment, Prince Varsena translated his words into Greco. "People of the Eternal Sky, I am ashamed, deeply ashamed, of your attempt to interfere with a ritual older than the first of our ancestors, and to be honest, shocked as well. Not only did your attempt to use women to stop the betrothal go against the command of the Khan of khans, but all of you have acted against the will of Tengri himself."

  The Great Khan held the silence a moment as he looked around. "Tengri himself," Prince Varsena translated, "anointed Avitohol to become my heir in place of Timur, and this morning I saw the wisdom of Tengri first hand. It is true that the Sasnayams planned to use necromancy to raise an army of the dead against us, and that Timur turned the tables upon them by unleashing that army on the heart-eaters. It was the correct thing to do and I find no fault."

  He paused a moment. "But now, Timur plans to turn that army to his own purposes, led by the outlander he took on as his Bloodguard, and unleash it upon the lands to the south and west. In Bukhara, he will restore the worship of false gods, corrupting the ancient traditions of our people. But worst of all, he plans the breakup of the People, luring our warriors to his side with promises of glory and plunder. For this reason I am declaring him dead to us."

  An undercurrent of dark muttering swept through the crowd, and the Great Khan held up his hands for quiet. "Timur sent me his pet Daemo Shadow-walker to give me a message," he said, lowering his arms again. "Timur has not only accepted my decision, but shall show his goodwill by hosting his own funeral games on our side of the river, as is traditional. Not only have I agreed, but to show my good faith I shall allow him and his minions to attend both the games and the ritual burning of the body in effigy at sundown after the games." He held up a ceramic vial. "The Shadow Fae who I dismissed also sent a potion for my elderly Warghorse, to restore his lost youth just long enough so I can participate in the khan's race, as is also traditional."

  The Great Khan held the silence again until only the voice of the wind could be heard. "Once Timur has been officially, and irrevocably, declared dead, the khans of the People will have a choice to make for their clans and tribes. Any khan who decides to leave will not be stopped, though since they are binding themselves to a dead man, they and their people will be considered as dead to us as well. However, know this: if the People of the Eternal Sky lose too many warriors to the dead, I will accept the offer of Khan Huldin to have the clan of the Black Dragon become a part of the People."

  Angry shouts and talk erupted among the crowd, until the Great Khan roared a word in their harsh language, echoing across the hills beyond the encampment. They subsided into a sullen silence and Prince Varsena took up translating Khan Khingla’s words again. "You leave me no choice. Regardless of what your khans choose, we will remain here until the snow abates and the earth wakes again from its cold sleep. When the Keeper of the Spirits tells me the time is right, the People of the Eternal Sky will head east towards Xian, until Tengri gives us a sign for the place where our new, permanent home will be built. Tengri demands the People choose either the path of life as a settled people, or the path of death and destruction, so think long, and think hard, about which path you want your khan to take. Remain with me or cross the river and join Timur. This is your choice."

  Again, he held the silence as he raised his arms to the sky. "In the quiet of your tents tonight, listen for Tengri's voice in your hearts and follow where he tells you to go. For Tengri will judge us all in the end." The Great Khan lowered his arms.

  Then he ripped the Artifact from his ear, hurled it onto the grassy mound and stormed off, the Tartaros warriors around him and the spearmen following. Titan caught up to the Great Khan and lowered his head to speak as he matched the man's stride. Prince Varsena moved to follow. "Join us in the Great Khan's tent for the celebration feast," he said over his shoulder, "but take your time. My father needs time of his own to master his anger."

  "As well as his hurt," Ghostdog replied.

  Prince Varsena stopped and regarded Greywolf's father. "I had not thought of that."

  Ghostdog motioned towards the departing group. "I'd wager silver for gold that Titan has. Don't worry, we'll take our time strolling over there, because I want to spend time with my son," putting one arm around Greywolf and the other around Wysper, "and my new daughter." Prince Varsena hurried away as Ghostdog gave her a wink. "It's a lucky thing the betrothal contract makes you family, or else I'd be flirting with you outrageously." Heat rose to her cheeks, and he glanced at his son. "Look, she's even more beautiful when she blushes."

  Greywolf looks torn between laughter and outrage. "Papa!"

  Ghostdog laughed as Asena put her long arms around all of them. "You're incorrigible, do you know that?" Ghostdog only laughed again and Asena smiled as she looked at Wysper. "Greywolf actually did the right thing for once," Before Greywolf could retort, Asena said, "Girl… No, not girl. Wysper," Asena's hand giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze, “welcome to the family.”