Greywolf - The Master of Bukhara

"Wotan's blood, I never expected him to banish his son."

The moment after the Great Khan announced he was shaking the dust of Bukhara from his feet, he'd stormed off through the tent flap behind the throne, leaving the place in an uproar. Now, still standing inside the tent with everyone around us arguing with each other, Titan placed his large hand on my shoulder. "I am afraid it was inevitable," he rumbled as the women, except for Wysper who was beside me, left through the front. Titan watched them go before looking back down. "Wysper, are you alright?"

She nodded, though I realized she was lying a little bit because she was still trembling. "It was just so strange, like dreaming while awake... until I was not." She took a deep breath and the trembling eased. "So what do we do now"

"All of you will leave with me," Prince Varsena strode up and halted in front of us. "Titan is one of us now, and Greywolf has guest-right, which I am now extending to you." He looked Wysper up and down with a frown. "Your clothes are fine for Bukhara, but I need to find you something warmer and less revealing. Most of my people are conservative in their thinking, and tend to make snap judgments based on how a woman is dressed."

Then he smiled. "However, one of the merchants who came with Porthos owns a clothing shop on this side of the river, and I feel certain would not mind making a bit of silver. Come with me."

We followed Prince Varsena as he walked towards the tent flap everyone was now leaving out of. He looked over his shoulder at Wysper. "On the way back to the encampment, we can talk about dream-walking and how it is done."

Wysper perked up. "Can you teach me how to do it?"

He hesitated as we joined the crowd. "I can, but the Keeper of the Spirits is the one who should instruct you, if she decides she wants to. She understands dream-walking better than anyone."

Titan rumbled, "I thought dream-walking died out in everyone except the Fae a long time ago."

"The Keeper tells us the ability is buried deep within all humans. However, only those able to generate mana," Prince Varsena touched his dark blue hair, "like myself or Wysper, are able to bring it to life and control it. And even then the person has to have a dream-walker awaken the ability before it can be used."

"As Yrg did by giving me nightmares," Wysper said.

"Exactly. Judging on how easily the spirit was able to assume control, I would say you have a strong ability that the Keeper will be able to teach you to use... well, if she wants to, of course."

We went through the tent flap into the crisp air. The smell of brick dust was still present, but the blood spilled the previous night also gave the air a lingering coppery tang.

People were gathering in groups near the buildings, with Prince Timur, Az, and the two other Bloodguards, standing on the near end of the bridge, talking to several nobles and some Tartaros warriors. All of them were all nodding as Timur spoke.

Standing close to them was Porthos, who was being yelled at by the men he came to the tent with, several of them waving their arms around while Porthos made calming gestures with his hands. We followed Prince Varsena as he strode towards the group. "Merchant Hamuz, apologies for interrupting, but might I speak with you"

Porthos and the men around him stopped arguing to look at us as an old, white bearded man in fancy clothing hurried over. "Prince Varsena, will you please join us and talk some sense into Porthos? He claims he is going to be our king."

"Petty-king," Porthos countered, "more like a governor than actual nobility. While this was not my idea, I feel that-"

"Men of Bukhara," Timur called out, I have the solution to your problems. Will all of you come join me here so I do not violate the terms of my banishment?"

The nobles and Tartaros warriors moved away to watch as the rest of us moved closer to the bridge, Timur waiting until everyone was close before speaking again. "Since my father has seen fit to banish me to Bukhara, I have decided the city belongs to me now by right of conquest."

Oh, shite. The men around Porthos gasped as he said, "But your highness, the Great Khan told us-"

"Whatever he told you before my banishment no longer holds true. But have no fear," Timur smiling as he opened his arms like papa once did for me, "for I plan to make you my chief counselor, and the good men around you my advisers. The taxes that the Sasnayams imposed on Bukhara are hereby abolished, and you may practice the religion of your ancestors to your heart's content."

His arms moved inward to gesture at himself. "You will find me no tyrant but a simple warrior who is content to let wiser men run Bukhara's affairs." But then his smile vanished as his face became a stern mask. "However, starting tomorrow, Bukhara's army must begin rebuilding, and its walls restored."

Porthos' shock slid into a sly smile. "I sense a change in Bukhara's fortunes for the better. Yet, a burning question remains: what shall be done with the blood corn?"

The smile Timur gave him back was the mirror of Porthos' own. "Again, by right of conquest, all of the blood corn belongs to me, and will be freely given out to all those pledging loyalty to my cause."

Prince Varsena's light brown face grew darker as he strode forward. "Do you realize you are talking treason against the Great Khan?"

Timur continued smiling as he stroked his beard. "Treason? I would be careful bandying that word about, younger brother, for you are only safe for as long as our father is alive. And he is an old, weak, shield to hide behind."

Titan placed a hand on Wysper's and my shoulders as we halted behind Prince Varsena, who snarled, "In the name of Tengri, come to your senses, or Kula will come here with an army and burn you out."

"He is welcome to try." The smile left Timur's face as he motioned first left, and then right. "There is no place to cross this river in either direction for many leagues, which means his army will have to attack Bukhara over this bridge. True, the gatehouse and walls have been neglected, but by the time his army is assembled, the gatehouse and the walls to either side will have been rebuilt."

Prince Varsena threw up his hands. "The Great Khan was right; you have gone mad. Since most of Bukhara's army was slain last night, who is going to man the walls? Old men and women?"

Timur smirked like the Warghorse pressing down with his paw on a rabbit. "I have an army in the black temple right now, waiting to be called upon the moment I need them."

The color drained away from Prince Varsena's face. "You would dare use your legion of the dead against our people?"

Timur stalked forward a few paces, his face a hands breath from his brother's. "I am not the one who will be doing the attacking, and as for the people..." Timur moved away and stroked his beard. "Varsena, you had best hope the Khan of khans lives until a ripe old age. Because if he dies before moving the People away in the spring, I will ride in and claim his throne."

"The Great Khan's will is for the throne to go to Avitohol."

"His will only means anything as long as he is alive. After he dies, the warriors will flock to my banner, because only I can lead them to glory and the plundering of the Sasnayam cities."

Prince Varsena shook his head. "The nobles-"

"Will follow where the warriors lead, for without them the nobles are undone, and they know it." Timur poked his brother in the chest as if goading him. "On the day I take command of the People, you will swear me an oath of loyalty on Az's Rune sword, or I will take your head.

“And as for you," Timur's eyes meeting mine as a cold smile touched his lips, "I will have the Xian mercenaries fill you full of crossbow bolts, then make you watch as I turn your scrawny priestess into my bed-slave."

Only Titan's hand gripping my shoulder kept me from challenging him as Az, standing next to him, shook her head. "My prince, let the two of them be."

Timur's eyes widened as a startled expression swept his face, and he turned towards her. "What did you just say?"

"To let them be. Prince Timur, I never want to become a Shadow Knight ever again, but no matter how hard I fight it, this seems to be my fate." Sadness touched her face for a moment as she sighed, but then the sardonic mask returned. "So be it. I'll embrace my fate. I will swear you an oath on my sword to become a Shadow Knight, whenever and wherever you need me to do so. But in return I want a Rune sword oath from you not to harm or degrade either one of them, and let them be free, unless one of them attacks you first."

Timur gave her an exasperated look. "Why? I cannot for the life of me understand why their fates should matter to you."

"Because in return for your oath, Greywolf's going to swear me one as well." Az drew the grey bladed sword from its sheathe. "Cermet told me that as a Shadow Knight, I'll be stronger and faster than I've ever been. Yet she also told me I’ll become more fragile, and if I’m slain, that I’ll dissolve into mist which will be sucked into the Shadowlands, much as when the Daemo are pulled down into the Underworld." She pointed the tip of the sword at my chest. "If that happens, you are going to come find me and bring me back to the real world."

She can't be serious. "Az, I won't know you're dead, let alone know where to look for you in the Shadowlands."

Az held up her Rune sword. "Use this to track me. And if you're going to become Avitohol's Bloodguard, my Wardogs should have no trouble tracking you down."

Sitting on Karl's shoulder, Lys shook her head. "Things are too uncertain right now to assume that. Prince Varsena, can you enchant two amulets so that either one can find the other?"

"I can," he replied in a wary voice, "but magic cannot work in the Shadowlands."

"Lady Jhadra told me the Rune sword will know where I am no matter where I go," Az said, "and Fox can use the amulet like a lodestone to find Greywolf should... things change."

"Then I agree to craft two linked amulets," Prince Varsena said as he looked towards his brother, "but only if he adds my name to his sword oath. Elder brother, I will never swear fealty to you, even if the People of the Eternal Sky elect you Khan of khans by their own free will. I would rather walk away into the teeth of a howling snowstorm than press my forehead to your hand, let alone swear you an oath on a grey, rune covered blade. Avitohol feels the same."

"Unlike you," Timur sneered, "Avitohol has earned my respect and has nothing to fear." He looked at Az. "Should something happen, entrusting your return to this boy is a bad idea. If the Rune sword can find you, the Daemo Shadow-walker can lead your Wardogs into the Shadowlands-"

"Where they'll get torn apart by the first Shadow creature they meet." Timur whirled around to glare at me, but I glared right back. "The Shadowlands are my country, and unless Fox has been hiding her sword skills, I'm your only hope for getting Az back."

Timur spat on the paving stones near my feet. "I do not trust you."

"The Rune sword won't give any of us a choice." Az looked at me. "You swear your oath first, Prince Timur will swear his next, and I will swear mine last. Then the Rune sword will bind us to our oaths. Alright?"

I nodded. "I'm only doing this for you, not for him."

"And I am only swearing this oath because of the great debt I owe to my Reaver Knight, a debt I can never fully repay." Timur glanced at his brother. "It comes to me that banishing you will be justice served cold, yet justice nonetheless.

“But mark my words," Timur's expression hardening, "that when my time to rule has arrived, the only person of the People you will be permitted to take with you shall be Avitohol. No one else. There will be no provisions given, no aid rendered, and no one will be allowed to shelter you on pain of death." His smile was cold as a cave troll's heart. "You will be on your own."

"So will you," Prince Varsena replied. "The People will fear you and shout your name, but there will be no one you can trust." He sadly shook his head. "You may earn their respect and their acclaim, but you will never be loved as our father is."

"I can live with that." Timur looked at me with a sneer. "Shall we see what kind of a weasel-mouthed oath the boy shall swear?"

I gritted my teeth as Az held out the sword with the blade straight across, and I placed my palm over several runes. "I swear that, if I learn Az is trapped in the Grey, I will leave immediately, track her down with this sword, and bring her back to the real world... or die trying." The runes on the blade glowed red a moment, sealing the oath, and I snatched my hand away. "There, satisfied?"

To my surprise, he raised his eyebrows as he placed his hand on the blade. "I am impressed. For my part, I swear that, if I am made Khan of khans by the People of the Eternal Sky, I shall spare the lives of my brothers Avitohol and Varsena, Titan the Ogri, the girl Wysper... and the little child known as Greywolf."

The runes glowed red and he took his hand away as Az placed hers where his palm had been. "For my part, I shall never balk at becoming a Shadow Knight ever again, even if it means being consigned to Hades' darkest realm, and will destroy any enemy of Prince Timur's that he desires... except for the people he swore to spare." Timur gave her a sharp look as she regarded him. "Neither I, or my Chaldeans, will lift a hand against them without provocation, until the sword shatters and all oaths shatter as well. This I do swear."

The runes glowed even brighter than before, then faded as she took her hand from her blade and sheathed the sword. "That was fun," Lys said, drumming her heels against Karl's chest armor. "Now what?"

"Now,” I said, “I want my armor and sword back.”

"Not without my consent," Timur replied. "None of you are allowed to enter Bukhara, even to retrieve personal items, until I decide otherwise." His smile slid into a smirk. "I am sure you can find replacements."

Prince Varsena placed his hand on my shoulder for a moment. "I will commission a new set of armor to be made for you as soon as we return, and if you will recharge my mana stones, I will transmute the thickest pieces of leather the tanner has into Artifact plates."

I touched my fingers to my chest. "Deal."

He did the same as from behind me, the voice of Osiris said, "Greywolf, the last time your father was here, he paid a wood carver to craft a sword out of Ironwood, which he meant to bring you."

"Except he forgot about it." I replied as I turned around.

Osiris' blue glowing image smiled. "A man's mind is like an attic filled with the clutter of old memories, and the older you get, the more things get lost in the mess. I will give the sword to my courier, who will be leaving soon, and let Prince Varsena transmute it for you, if he so desires."

"It would be no trouble," the prince said. "However, I am wondering why an exalted person such as yourself is taking an interest in our doings?"

The glowing image made an open gesture with both hands. "What happens here will affect what happens in other lands, including our kingdom, and I would watch it unfold with my own eyes as much as possible."

From the group of women, Zanzabel hurried over. "My lord Osiris, the Daemo Sybil told me she would be grateful if I established a temple of Osiris here in Bukhara as a balance to Inanna's, with Ishtar over both."

Timur frowned. "You would use it as a way to spy upon me."

"Say rather to trade knowledge between us." Osiris' image moved past us and stopped in front of Timur. "Queen Zenobia wants the province of Syros, where the ancient city of Palmyra now lays under the Empire of the East's yoke. Beyond that, I want the kingdom to remain stable long after my death. Which means sailing in the direction the wind is blowing and not fighting against it."

"I see," Timur stroking his beard as he nodded. "In that case, I have no objection to the establishment of a new temple."

"Good. For now, I need to remain with your younger brothers and keep my promise to resolve the betrothal, but after this image dissolves, when Zanzabel uses another gem to bring my image here, it will be to discuss important matters with you."

"While we are on the subject of temples," Sybil said as she approached, "your highness, all the priestesses, including the other two Celtic ones, would like to remain in Bukhara and, with one exception, become devotees of Ishtar."

Standing beside me, Wysper gasped. "I thought they were coming with us."

The Daemo turned towards Wysper with a sly smile. "I offered your older priestess-sister Thalia the position of temple mistress, while Myra eagerly accepted the position of chief healer, a talent she excels at, having closed your wounds so many times before."

Then she faced Timur. "My prince, Myra has never been with a man before, and to fully initiate her into the sacred mysteries, a strong man, who can also be gentle, is needed to help me bring her fully into the fold. Would you know of someone who would be willing?"

Timur stroked his beard as he looked past the Daemo at the golden haired woman, who was blushing furiously. "If I am going to be the master of Bukhara, the least I should do is try to understand its religion."

The sly smile remained as Sybil bows. "Truly spoken. My prince, if you wish we can discuss the details on our way to your palace."

He chuckled as he shook his head as if in disbelief. "My palace." He turned around to face Bukhara. "My city. Come, my friends," Timur motioning for the others to follow him, "we have a city to rebuild." He held up his arms. "I was born for this!"

Az traded a look with me and shrugged, then turned around and joined the others heading towards the open gates. Prince Varsena sighed. "No good will come of this, I fear."

"I agree," Titan rumbled. "However, the matter is out of our hands."

"You are right," the prince replied. "What say we find Wysper some warm clothing and join the Great Khan and the others?" He smiled. "It is high time we all went home."

I shrugged. "My whole life, home has always been wherever Asena spent the night."

"My home will always be the island of Britannia,” Wysper said as she looked up at me. “But from now on, I can be your home, if you want."

I smiled and held out my hand. "I'd like that."

Wysper smiled back as she grasped it, then all of us turned our backs on Bukhara as Prince Varsena led us away.