Wysper - Nightmares

"Timur did what?"

We were just outside the buildings on the opposite side of the bridge from Bukhara, with grass and rolling hills before us. The large tent had been packed and stowed upon a large cart, with the warriors and nobles of the White Horde, mounted on their Warghorses and more normal horses, lined up in a column ready to depart. Someone had thought to bring Greywolf's Daemo mount, Rocky, and after being properly introduced by giving Rocky a small taste of my blood, it let both of us climb up onto his back. We joined Prince Varsena just behind the Great Khan at the front of the column, who had been speaking to one of the nobles.

Now, the Great Khan turned in his saddle and asked a sharp question in their language of Prince Varsena. He nodded and began to speak. After a few moments of listening, Titan rumbled, "Even though I do not speak their tongue, I believe the Great Khan just received the news about his eldest son, and wants an explanation."

Greywolf asked, "Will the Great Khan try and retake the city?"

Titan looked our way. "If he does, he may have a revolt among the Tartaros warriors. They admire Timur for his bravery, and his desire for their people to remain locked into doing things the way their ancestors have done for hundreds of years."

He turned back towards the Great Khan, whose expression had turned into outrage, and sighed. "I had a very frank discussion with Khan Khingla about his people, and the problems he is facing trying to get them to change. He was right about his people needing time to accept these changes, yet banishing his son was the wrong way to go about it."

"Even if the Great Khan changes his mind and lets Timur back in, I'm not sure he'd leave Bukhara. I think he's going to like being king."

Titan rumbled his agreement as I said, "Master Ogri, may I ask a question?"

He looked at me in surprise. "Of course. Wysper, you are no longer a slave, but a free woman."

"I know it here," touching my forehead, "yet my heart has not yet accepted the change... and I fear the Great Khan is no different. This may be inconsiderate, but Prince Timur did give him an opportunity to make his dream become reality, and the Great Khan turned him down. I do not fully understand why."

Greywolf snorted in a good natured way. "I think Timur's army of Shamblers had something to do with it."

Memories from last night flashed through my mind, making me shudder. "I see your point. Necromancy as the Brittani practice it is used only to speak to the ancestors, never to raise an army of corpses." Both of them began looking at me as if I had done something wrong, and I added, "Apologies. Perhaps I should not have spoken."

"It's not your fault," Greywolf said, giving Titan a sharp look.

"I am not upset with Wysper," Titan's voice the rumbling of an angry mountain, "but at the practice. How long have the druids-"

He broke off speaking as the Great Khan snapped out a short speech as if making a pronouncement. The eyes of his warriors widened as many of the nobles gaped at him, their expressions turning into one of shock.

The Great Khan finished by pointing back toward Greywolf and myself before facing forward once more. His right hand made a chopping motion forward as he pressed his heels into the flanks of his Warghorse, the only one with grey fur on his face instead of black. The animal took off at a trot, and after a moment, everyone else did the same.

Prince Varsena dropped back to join us. "One thing you can say about the Great Khan is that he never does anything by half measures."

Titan rumbled, "Meaning what, exactly?"

"Meaning that the moment we reach the encampment, he is going to begin the process of having my brother, Iron-for-brains, declared dead to the People of the Eternal Sky."

I gasped as Greywolf sucked in his breath. "Can he do that?"

Prince Varsena glanced our way. "He can, and be glad he is doing so. You see, our people have a tradition that, when someone important is declared dead for whatever reason, a betrothal must take place so the soul of the person who dies can inhabit the child the couple conceives that night."

"But that's not going to happen. I mean, I would if we could have a child like normal people, but it only works if we try it in the Shadowlands, and I won't risk Wysper's life for any reason."

I leaned against him, pressing my face next to his for a moment, making him smile, before sitting upright again. The prince said, "That is why this betrothal is taking place tonight. The Great Khan mentioned what you just said, and told us he will forbid you from taking Wysper into the Shadowlands to conceive a child."

I nodded as the implication became clear. "The Great Khan is symbolically denying Prince Timur the chance to ever return."

"So it would seem," Titan rumbled. "And since Prince Timur cannot return to contest this decision without risking death, he will lose his chance to ever become Khan of khans."

Greywolf asked, "Would your brother be crazy enough to try?"

Prince Varsena shook his head. "The Xian mercenaries are under orders to shoot him dead on sight, with a reward in gold for whoever does the deed. On a better note, with Iron-for-brains declared dead, the Great Khan is not honor-bound to retake the city and avenge the insult. We lose the blood corn but no one else dies."

Prince Varsena looked at me as I said, "Apologies for mentioning this, but last night Prince Timur went on at length about how he needed the Tartaros warriors to make his plans work. I am fearful that, if he learns he is to be proclaimed dead, he will raise his legion and march on the encampment."

The prince only sighed. "Timur will laugh for joy when he hears the news of his demise. Our warriors long for the old days, when their fathers and grandfathers swept through the cities of Indus and Xian, plundering their riches and turning the prettiest girls into bed-slaves. Going east means guarding herds and raiding farms, perhaps even a village here or there, but no more than that."

Titan rumbled, "The Great Khan told me his warriors are loyal to their khans, and the khans are loyal to him."

"The khans tell him what he wants to hear. Tradition is ingrained into us; if Timur brings his legion of the dead to force the Great Khan to give into his demands, then even those who side with Timur will fight against him, because Iron-for-brains is being an usurper. But once he is declared dead, everything changes."

Greywolf was nodding. "He can't be Great Khan of the People anymore, but everything that happened before doesn't matter either, because you can't hold a living person liable for the sins of the dead. Wotan did something similar to Asena when she had me with papa, so he could cast her out from the Germanic tribes without having to hunt her down and kill her." My eyes widened in shock, but Greywolf did not notice as he continued. "Could Timur hire them on as mercenaries?"

"Worse. Timur is of royal blood, and his 'death' will not change that. He can form a new tribe whenever he wants."

Titan frowned. "Who would risk your father's wrath to join him?"

Prince Timur looked forward a moment. The Great Khan was many horse-lengths ahead of everyone else except a dozen or so guards, and most of the others had formed small groups of their own away from us. "More than you might think," the prince said in a quiet voice. "The khans that Karl was translating for, who command the Ghost Goat and Bloody Dog tribes, are Timur's strongest supporters. They will pack up and leave the encampment the moment Timur extends an invitation to join him.

“The other khans will likely remain, but they will lose warriors to the new tribe forming in the rich, fertile lands beyond the city." He grimaced. "Lose too many warriors, and the khans will have no choice but to follow Timur."

"Leaving your people in a world of shite... oops." Greywolf glanced back over his shoulder, looking contrite. "Apologies, that was rude. I'll try to keep a better guard over my tongue."

I could not help but smile. "Truly, there is no need. Among my people, earthy language was considered normal, and we all used it." My happiness became clouded by old pain and I looked down at my hands, curled into fists as they rested on his thighs. "I used to speak the Brittani tongue the same way you speak Greco-Roma, but the High Priest... Apologies, but Muzen, taught us to speak and act in the formal ways of the Sasnayam empire." Greywolf raised his eyebrows before turning his head to look down at my hands.

Then he took them in his own and gently uncurled my fingers. "Guess we'll have to work on getting you back to the way things used to be." Greywolf moved my arms under his cloak until my hands both touched his bare abdomen. "There, your fingers won't freeze this way. You can rest your head against my back, if you want."

"I would likely go to sleep on you. Even though I was exhausted, the nightmare Yrg must have planted gave me little rest."

Titan rumbled, "Do you remember anything about it?"

"I always know my real dreams from hers," I replied with a shudder, "because they do not fade but remain sharp as bad memories. In this one, I was walking in a forest growing darker and scarier by the moment, when a giant wolf-woman confronted me."

Greywolf gave me a sharp look. "A wolf-woman?"

I nodded. "She was taller than you with black fur, an almost human face with fangs coming out of her mouth, and black claws." I frowned. "She was also wearing armor, which now that I think about it, was strange. Anyway, I turned and ran away, even though I knew I could not escape her, and as I felt her hot breath on my back, Yrg appeared on my shoulder. She told me the only way to escape was to take my own life."

"Don't do it, no matter how bad the nightmares get." Greywolf grasped my hands with his own as he looked over his shoulder. "I won't lose you, not after everything we've been through."

I gave him my most reassuring smile as I squeezed his fingers. "I have been through this before. The nightmares will fade, in time, especially now that Yrg is dead... well, more or less."

"When we return to the encampment," Prince Varsena said as a rider dropped back to join us, "I will ask the Keeper of the Spirits to lift this enchantment, regardless of whether she will teach-"

The rider said something to him in their language, and rode forward again as the prince looked at Titan. "I was just informed the Great Khan desires our counsel... not that he will listen to it."

Titan chuckled as he gently patted my shoulder. "Get some sleep if you can." I nodded, and he lengthened his stride as the prince set his heels to the Warghorse's flanks.

I leaned against Greywolf's back. Rocky's easy stride was smoother and less jarring than any horse I had ever ridden, the sun warm on my face, and my new cloak blocking the wind. While I am sure sleep will elude me, it would be pleasant to close my eyes, if only for a few moments...

Rocky came to an abrupt halt and I jerked awake, opening my eyes to a twilight sky with everyone around us getting off their mounts, while other men led riderless horses and Warghorses away. "What... where are we?"

"Next to the animal pens just outside the encampment," Greywolf replied.

Rocky turned his head and gave Greywolf a withering look. "Speak for yourself." Greywolf rolled his eyes and I smothered a giggle as he slid off Rocky's back before helping me down.

Around us, men were talking or shouting in a friendly way at others walking towards us from an open gate, set into a wooden palisade stretching off to the left side. The Warghorses rolled on the flattened grass as their saddles were removed, before trotting on their own into a large, fenced off area where men and women in rough clothing seemed to be feeding them. The horses were being led to a different pen as more men in rough clothing collected the saddles and carry them off.

Off to my right, I could smell water from the rushing river, mingled with the odors of beast and man. There were a group of small shacks set up along its banks, and as I eased the ache in my thighs, Greywolf motioned towards them. "Privies are over there. Look for the ones with a painted moon on it, and not the wolf's head." I nodded and we both headed towards them.

As I returned, Greywolf was standing beside Titan and Prince Varsena, while Avitohol argued with his father several horse-lengths away. Both of them were speaking in their tongue as the boy gestured back towards Bukhara, while the Great Khan shook his head. I stopped next to Greywolf. "Is something wrong?"

Prince Varsena sighed. "I was afraid this might happen. Even though the runt killed several soldiers, proving his manhood, the Great Khan insists he is still a boy who is not allowed to set up his own family."

"Meaning he cannot adopt me." The prince nodded, and fear struck at my heart. "But our betrothal-"

"Is going on just as planned," Prince Varsena replied with a smile. "I offered you guest-right, which means that you are a part of my family until we go our separate ways. My wife and I will sponsor your betrothal since my little brother cannot."

"And was my husband going to tell me this?" Striding towards us out from the open gate was a slender woman, with a sharp nose and finely chiseled features in a light brown face, her dark blue dress richly embroidered and elegant sandals on her feet. Her black hair spilled down to her shoulders in a luxurious wave.

Behind her walked a Germanic looking man in a rough tunic and crude sandals, holding a witchlight lantern in one hand and a wooden cudgel in the other. A leather collar with painted symbols was wrapped around his neck.

Stopping in front of the prince, she looked up at him with raised eyebrows as if expecting an answer. He winced. "Sorocan, there was no time to send word. Events have been moving quickly."

"Not as quickly as the rumors. Well, are you going to introduce us?"

Prince Varsena seemed to be suppressing a sigh as he makes an inviting motion. "Wysper, before you stands Sorocan of the clan Blue River, daughter of Khan Khalja the Elder."

I bowed to her. "Mistress Sorocan, I am Wysper of the Iceni people, youngest daughter of Queen Boadicea, third of her name."

"You were once known as Blood-Wysper, the eternal sacrificial victim of the heart-eaters."

I nodded. "Blood-Wysper was my slave name-"

"But now you are free." Sorocan's sharp features softened as she smiled. "The Keeper of the Spirits sent one of them to watch over the Great Khan while he was beside Bukhara, and learned all that happened. Your betrothal ceremony is taking place just as soon as I can get you ready."

My eyes went wide. "So soon?"

She nodded as Prince Varsena said, "Did the Keeper come to visit you?"

Sorocan glanced back at the Germanic man behind her before looking forward again. "Do you see one of Wulf's magic talking ravens on my shoulder? The Keeper is back in our tent, waiting for Wysper so we can prepare her. You," her finger making a stabbing motion towards the prince, "need to do the same with Greywolf."

Prince Varsena was shaking his head. "I know the Great Khan wants this betrothal to happen soon, but this is insane."

"Asena escaped her prison right after the Great Khan and the delegation left. She was seen crossing the bridge that leads into the wild country where the troll cave lays, and the guard has been tripled, but the Keeper is worried that Asena might return."

"A wise move," Titan rumbled, "as it is likely she is watching us right now." Glancing over my shoulder, the hills beyond the river stood like silent sentinels, and I shivered as Titan caught my attention once more. "Wysper, go with this woman while the prince and I prepare your betrothed."

Sorocan reached out and I grasped her hand, letting myself be pulled along towards the open gate despite my confusion, as Prince Varsena called out, "Sorocan, you knew all about this but threw it in my face anyway."

Over her shoulder, she called back, "If I am being rude, then you must punish me for my behavior." She laughed at his strange, almost hungry look, and turned back forward. "If you want to keep a man's heart, always remember a wolf lies inside him who lives for the hunt, and for the capture. Now," her voice growing eager, "tell me what happened in Bukhara. I am dying to find out."

I hesitated, but then threw caution upon the fire and told her everything as we passed by tent after tent, with a multitude of people either walking along the criss-crossing dirt roads or performing tasks. Many of them broke off talking or working to gawk as we passed by.

We reached two long ditches barring the way in front of us, with a narrow strip of earth between them, guarded by warriors in leather and steel. Sorocan spoke a few words to them and they let us pass, the tents much nicer on this side as we walked alongside the deep trench until reaching one with blue water symbols and other designs on the front. The Germanic man opened the flap and we stepped inside.

Witchlight lanterns hung from wooden crossbeams holding the tent up, illuminating a large space with richly woven carpets on the floor, and hanging against the walls. More carpets partially covered wooden chests on either side. On the far side was a sleeping mat big enough for two, with folded blankets and pillows, while several embroidered flat cushions with colorful bolsters to lean against were set up around a low stone table with four legs. An enchanted fire-stone, a thick round disc the size of my hands placed together, sat in the table's center, the runes along the side glowing blue while the stone itself glowed a dull red.

A Sasnayam woman in a linen dress, a painted leather collar around her throat, was pouring hot water from a copper teakettle into three ceramic cups as an old woman's voice came from the right-hand side of the tent. "The spirits told me that you and your guest were on the way, so I had your girl prepare tea."

The Sasnayam woman, who had the look of a someone from the noble caste, was old enough to be Sorocan's mother. She did not look up but continued pouring water as Sorocan deeply bowed. "Keeper of the Spirits, please forgive my lack of manners."

Sitting on a cushion was an old, old woman in bone white robes, her long, tangled hair covering her face. "Child," she said, making a dismissive wave with a thin hand as gnarled as a tree root, "how could you be in two places at once?" She beckoned with her fingers. "Princess of the bloody crown, come and sit with me."

I gasped. "How do you know that?"

Through the matted hair covering her face, I saw her smile. "Because the spirits see what Amazonia did. Come." Sorocan gave me a gentle push, and together we walked around the stone table and stopped in front of the woman, who motioned for me to take the cushion in front of her.

I knelt, then sat with my legs folded, with Sorocan sitting to one side as the old woman said, "Child, I need to examine you to make sure your mana is flowing properly." Before I could respond, she reached out and placed one hand on my abdomen. Then she grasped both my hands, smiling as she held them for a moment, and finally placed both hands at my temples.

Her smile was gone as she took her hands away. "You will be happy to know that the place where your mana node used to form is healing, and not reforming as the mana is now flowing freely through your hands. But the nightmare the Winter Fae planted into your mind is strong."

"Prince Varsena told me you could remove it."

She gave a derisive snort. "Sometimes he gives me far too much credit. Normally, I could, but Yrg has been transformed by the Necromantic Arts into something the spirits are loath to challenge. However, there is hope." The Keeper reached out and tapped me once between the eyes. "Anything transformed by the Necromantic Arts is strong, yet also fragile, and if you turn around and face this wolf-woman, which is Yrg's memory of Asena, then the nightmare will shatter and never return."

Fear stabbed me through the heart. "Please, mistress, there has to be another way. I have tried that with Yrg's nightmares in the past and only wound up in a worse place than if I ran."

In a gentle voice, Sorocan said, "Were they that bad?"

I nodded, tears leaking from my eyes. Sorocan grasped my hand and held it while the Keeper cocked her head as if listening to words only she could hear. "Child," she finally said, "there is another way. After the betrothal tonight, you and Greywolf must find Asena and you must confront her, even at the risk of your own life."

Sorocan gave the Keeper an indignant look. "That creature wants to kill Wysper."

There was something wrong with the Keeper's face as she continued staring at me... no, I cannot believe she has no eyes. "Child, the spirits tell me there is no other way."

"Then I will do it." I stabbed at my eyes with the heel of my free hand, rubbing away the tears. "I am tired of being afraid all the time. I am Brittani; I was ready to die with Greywolf, and if his mother decides to kill me, I will not run." Sorocan was staring at me like I had lost my mind, so I gave her a sad smile. "As long as I get one night with Greywolf, I will be content."

"If Asena kills you," the Keeper said, "I will ensure you are given the funeral of a great warrior. Yet, if somehow you survive, I will take you on as my apprentice and teach you all I know, dream-walking and spirit-lore so the knowledge can pass on to another people."

Sorocan let go of my hand as her eyes went wide. "Teach... but Wysper is an outlander. Apologies," she said, looking my way, "but you will never be one of us, and Varsena told me spirit-lore cannot ever be shared with outlanders."

"We may all be outlanders soon," the Keeper said cryptically. "But until then," her face breaking out into a grin, "we are going to have some fun. Believe it or not, I love planning betrothals."