Amazonia - Death and the Maiden

Everything had become strange, as if I walked within a dream where the world was illusion and only the dead were real.

My Necromantic Legion marched as best they could behind me towards the Temple District's gates, the ones who had been warriors wearing the bronze armor they’d stripped off both the dead and the injured soldiers, scimitars in one hand and a round shield strapped to the other. Others who had soldier training in life carried spears or other scavenged weapons, while the rest either picked up broken paving stones or relied on their bony fingers and teeth.

Cermet had been busy, for reinforcements were shambling towards us from the direction of the Ghash-Kimil temple, most in rags but one in a bloodstained white cloak. I waved at them to follow as we reached the gates. The almost full moon overhead gave more than enough light to see that the Khanda swordsmen had barred the heavy wooden doors, with a scout keeping himself behind the white, twin-figured statue of Yun-Kax, sticking out of the outside wall at the center of the gatehouse. Beyond the walls were the sounds of a mob not far off, the noise rising and falling like the voice of the sea.

The Khanda swordsmen drew back and the scout hurried down the stone stairs as I raised my fist to halt the legion. "Where's Prince Timur?"

"Here," he called out, striding towards me with his two Bloodguards and the Chaldeans, minus the Daemo, behind. "The rest of Bukhara's army is outside the gates, with a lot of drunken townspeople beyond them." He motioned to where a group of perhaps fifty soldiers bearing Artifact crossbows were running towards us across the plaza. "I've ordered Captain Tang to support us while the rest of his men guard the Blood corn."

I nodded. "Does his highness want us to attack?"

Prince Timur stroked his beard as a sly smile touched his lips. "Not yet. The woman in white robes who is approaching, can you get her to join us?"

Giving him a puzzled look, I turned and pointed straight at her, then motioned for the robed figure to join me. She nodded and made a beeline straight towards us as I looked at the prince. "I assume she's important?"

"Before coming over here, I met with Cermet. She told me she'd found an outrider of my people who had blood magic, like the girl Muzen used to sacrifice does. Cermet said the woman had been betrayed by her lover to the Ghash-Kimil priests, horribly tortured and killed, and then thrown into the charnel pits. Evidently the blood red hair remains even after death."

Glancing over my shoulder as she got close, the outrider’s red hair had been raggedly shorn to resemble Wysper's, with yellow ribbons tied at her temples and braided to resemble golden bangs. My lips peeled back in the rictus of a smile. "I see. Are you planning to use this pretend Wysper as a hostage?"

From the pouch at his belt he pulled out a small, black speaking device with a metal hook attached, curved to go behind the ear. "I have a better idea. But first, I need to know if you always have to tell the truth, or if you can lie at need."

"My prince, I can lie through my teeth if I have to." Captain Tang joined us as I asked, "What is it you want me to do?"

Prince Timur explained his plan, but as he finished, Captain Tang frowned. "I am worried about the battle becoming chaotic, and these... things, getting out of hand. How will they know friend from foe?"

I replied, "They'll know who's on our side, because they see what I see." I motioned towards his mercenaries milling about, their fear stark upon their faces. "Your Xian soldiers have battle flags attached to their backs, with Chin' characters written in large red brush strokes. If any of my legion sees that, they'll know not to attack, and to help you if they can."

Captain Tang blinked as if astonished. "We have not worn such flags since we left Xian in disgrace."

I shrugged. "I can only tell you what I see."

"What about the Khanda swordsmen?" Prince Timur asked.

"Boar tusks that curve out from the sides of their mouths. The Chosen have the wind cloak of Tengri flowing behind them from their shoulders, while the Chaldeans are enclosed within the red lines of the tattoo they have drawn on their backs, which move in the same manner as the Chaldean. The Bukharan's, though, have slave collars made of lion manes around their necks, while anyone from the Sasnayam empire, like the officers in steel armor, have lion's wings coming out of their backs." Both men gave me strange looks, and I added, "That's how my legion will know who’s who on the battlefield."

Prince Timur asked, "Do I have tusks as well?"

I nodded. "Yours are larger and more fierce than anyone else's."

For some reason that answer seemed to please him. "Captain Tang, once Amazonia begins speaking, have your crossbowmen creep up the stairs and arrange themselves without our enemies being the wiser." The captain saluted with a fist to his heart and hurried back to his men, while Prince Timur handed me the speaking device. "This is simple to operate, according to Cermet. Just tap it once to turn it on, and again to turn it off."

I hooked the device behind my ear. It fit comfortably, the black cylinder sticking out slightly, and as I adjusted it, he said, "Az, I know you've got to lie to make this work, but you wouldn't ever lie to me, would you?"

In my Shadowed state I hadn't the least bit of remorse or guilt as I changed my expression to the most reassuring mask I could manage. "My prince, why would I? The oath I swore you cannot be broken until the sword shatters, and besides, you and I want the same things. Why would I ever want to betray you?"

He sighed as worry lines creased his face. "I know you wouldn't, but with everything moving so fast... It's nerves, that's all. Just nerves."

I clasped his armored shoulder as I put my face close to his. "Someday you'll sit upon the throne your father sits on now. Let me tell you something you need to remember for the future: tomorrow, I will likely tell you that I never want to become a Shadow Knight ever again. But right here, right now, I'm telling you that I want nothing more than to be exactly what I am, and to bring you victories no one else ever could. Remember the prophecy Yasataar gave you?"

"That there would be glory... and my name would be remembered."

I slapped him lightly on the shoulder as my lips peeled back in a grin. "Just so. Together, we'll have the entire Sasnayam empire groveling at your feet. You'll see." His fierce smile returned, making his boar tusks quiver as I turned and headed for the stairs leading up to the battlement over the gatehouse.

The noise of the crowd grew louder as I climbed up the stairs, my sandals slapping stone as I reached the battlements and walked to the center of the gate where the statue of Yun-Kax stood overlooking the city.

The light of the fat moon overhead showed a thousand or so spearmen in bronze armor standing in separate companies, their spears pointed straight upward with their shields drooping or resting on their armored knees.

The wind must’ve been cold, for there were soldiers out there who were shivering, yet I could only feel its breath upon my cheek, nor could I smell the odors it must be bringing. Strange, yet I still saw the bright colors of the tunics and dresses worn by the citizens, milling about just beyond the soldier's ordered ranks. At least a full company of them were using their spears lengthwise like a fence to keep the people back.

Farther down the road leading into the city, a dozen or so men were bringing ladders… it looks like I'm just in time. I positioned myself behind the statue so I couldn't be seen, then called out in Greco-Roma, "Who's in charge?"

From in front of the leading rank, a man wearing steel armor, and bearing a magnificent pair of wings covered in lion fur instead of feathers, looked up. "I, Commander Hassan of the house Raad, lead the army of Bukhara. The time for parley is over."

"I agree. Prince Timur of the People of the Eternal Sky, the ones you call the White Horde, is giving you and your army one last chance to save yourselves. Withdraw back to the Royal governor's palace with your soldiers, and we will take the Blood corn back to our encampment without sacking Bukhara. Otherwise, you and your men will die."

"The only thing anyone will be taking back to your encampment will be your heads in wicker baskets."

The Xian mercenaries were crab-walking into position around me, keeping their heads beneath the crenelations of the wall as I shrugged. "It's your funeral pyre." Then I tapped the device in my ear, which glowed blue a moment before settling down again. "People of Bukhara," my words projecting outward across the city as the crowd quieted, "I am here to tell you how your Sasnayam masters have betrayed you."

The woman in white robes crawled on her hands and knees to join me as I continued. "The Sasnayam temple of Ghash-Kimil has corrupted the priestess known to you as Wysper, in order to raise the dead they'd thrown into the charnel pits and send them against the White Horde."

The crowd had gone silent, though I could hear Commander Hassan urgently barking out orders in their language as the dead outrider reached the statue. I motioned for her to stand up behind me and stay hidden as I said, "However, Prince Timur discovered the plot, and bribed the priests of Ghash-Kimil to join us against you in exchange for gold."

Those who spoke Greco-Roma had to be translating for the others, for the crowd's muttering began turning ugly. I motioned for the woman in white to stand on the crenelation beside the statue. "Some of you think must I'm lying, but I'll prove to you I'm not. Behold Blood-Wysper."

The dead outrider stepped up onto the narrow stone with one hand on the statue for balance. Behind the soldiers, many in the crowd gasped and pointed as voices cried out her name. They began pushing against the spearmen holding them back, surging against the soldiers like an angry sea throwing waves against a seawall. The crowd was breaking through in places as I tugged on the woman's robe. "Behold what the priests of Ghash-Kimil have done to Blood-Wysper." She released the tie holding her white robes in place.

It fell in a puddle of cloth at her feet, the dead woman standing nude in the moonlight. Her arms were horribly twisted, likely from the tortures she’d endured while alive, and the skin on her chest was torn away, leaving the bones of her ribs exposed. There were open sores on her hips and legs as well.

In death she wasn’t as pale as the living girl, and her body stronger boned, but the crowd saw what they believed to be true and screamed in horror, in outrage, and then in fury as they attacked the spearmen holding them back. The company holding the line dissolved in chaos as individual soldiers also began yelling, throwing down their spears as they shook their fists.

My lips curled back in a smile as an idea took shape. "Soldiers of Bukhara, the dead who've crawled out of the charnel pits want revenge on the Sasnayams and all those who fight for them. Rise up, break your slave collars, and the dead will become your allies. Rise up and be slaves to the Sasnayams no longer."

One soldier close to the growing chaos in the back hurled his spear at a steel armored man with small lion wings. "Inanna," he screamed, drawing his scimitar as the spear glanced off the man's steel helm, staggering him. Others around him yelled the same thing and threw down their spears as the dead woman turned her head. "Inanna was the goddess Bukhara used to worship before the Sasnayams forced their own religion on the people," she said in the tongue of the dead. "Many still worship her in secret."

The rictus of my smile grew fierce. "People of Bukhara," my words echoing off the buildings, "I am Inanna. Rise up and tear down these false gods of the Sasnayams, and let Bukhara become free once more." More and more soldiers were throwing down their spears, and fights were breaking out among the ranks as the first soldier reached the Sasnayam officer.

Horns began growing out from the young soldier's head, curling around in a corkscrew as he swung his scimitar at the officer's head. But the older man pulled back in time and the sword sliced only air. The officer drew his own scimitar as the soldier's back swing bounced off steel chain, but more soldiers with curling horns were joining the fight as the rear companies dissolved into chaos. Near the wall, Commander Hassan barked an order.

Arrows began hissing up towards me. One pinged as it bounced off an Artifact plate at my shoulder, while others whined past or smashed themselves against the statue.

But several arrows pierced the red haired woman's nude body. She staggered, clutching at the statue for support as she lurched forward, trying to keep her balance. Her arms windmilled as she pitched forward off the wall.

She landed face first on the paving stones in front of the gate and the crowd screamed as one. "They've killed Blood-Wysper."

"Murderers!"

"Death to the Sasnayams."

"Inanna!" The goddess' name became the battle cry of those sprouting curled horns as Captain Tang began shouting orders. A quarter of his crossbowmen rose up and started shooting, screams erupting from down below as they cranked out their five shots and dropped back down to reload, while the next quarter of the mercenaries took their place.

I moved to the top of the gate where the Khanda swordsmen and my Necromantic warriors were waiting. I called out, "Legion, those with curling horns fight with us, and spare all those who no longer wear the lion mane collars. Kill everyone else." The legion raised their weapon or clenched fist to show they understood as I leapt off the gatehouse onto the plaza below, a fall that should’ve shattered both my ankles.

My legs absorbed the impact as I landed on the paving stones in a crouch. I nodded to Prince Timur, who yelled an order in their language as I motioned for my legion to march. The glorious dead shambled towards me as the Khanda swordsmen removed the wooden bar across the doors, then swung them open before pressing themselves against the stone wall as I led my legion through the open gateway.

Commander Hassan had knelt beside the dead woman as two other Sasnayam soldiers held shields over him against the crossbow bolts buzzing around them like angry hornets. He flipped her over onto her back, the arrows sticking out of her chest broken off in the fall, and his lips curled back in a snarl. "This is not the priestess but an impostor I know well. Where is that priest with the speaking device? I need to tell the crowd this was all a trick-"

The red haired outrider grabbed him by the front of his armor and pulled herself up as if she would kiss him. Instead, he screamed as he pushed her off, a piece of his cheek in her mouth as she fell back. She spat it out as he staggered to his feet, my sword already singing in my hands as he looked at us in horror.

The grey blade sheared through bone and his head fell off his neck, landing on the outrider as the dead swarmed over the two other soldiers, clawing at their faces with rotted fingers as they pulled them down, while others without weapons shambled past. The outrider got to her knees and held up the head with her hand squeezing the blood vessels shut.

His eyes were blinking, his mouth opening and shutting as if he was trying to speak. I shook my head. "You really should've taken Prince Timur's offer." His mouth opened in a silent scream.

Then the face went slack. "My liege," the outrider said, "may I ask Mistress Cermet to bring him back so I might keep his head with me? I was his lover before he betrayed me to the priests."

I give her a brusque nod. "You have my blessing.” She cradled the head in her hands like it was an infant as I called out, “Legion, those without weapons continue helping our allies. Everyone with a weapon follow me. We're heading for the Royal Governor's palace." My army split into two, and more screaming began as the dead shambled past me towards the fight.

I turned towards the city and the rest followed, with the rattle of brass and the tramp of many feet behind me as my legion and I marched down the road into Bukhara.