Amazonia - The Shadow Knight and the Blue Haired Prince

The Warghorse ran towards us across the platform, snarling as it spit out bloody froth. I yelled, "Guard the prince," then leapt off the bier as Antonius began contracting my flesh into ropey cords and grey skin. Pain ripped through me, but the shrieking stopped the moment I landed with both feet on the paving stones, and the grey Rune sword was in my hands as the slathering beast pounded down the platform stairs.

It raced towards me, swerving so it could pass and get to Timur instead, but I slashed its side with the blade as it went by. The Warghorse howled in pain as it skidded to a stop. Then it turned, the old man no longer trying to escape but bumping along beside it as the beast charged straight at me. The old man needs to die, but not by my hand... remain still, let it come closer... now!

The Warghorse leapt for my throat as I slid right towards its uninjured side, the grey blade ripping through fur, flesh, and the leather cord holding the old man fast. He fell free as the beast howled again, sliding on the paving stones, and I rushed over to the man’s still form as if I was guarding him. The creature's back claws scraped stone as it turned around.

It was wary of my rune sword now, sliding to a stop just out of reach as it snarled, spraying red slather as it feinted left, then lunged right. But I was too fast, the sword tip in its face again, and it backed away. It turned to look up at Prince Timur on the funeral bier and I rushed forward.

The red runes glowed bright as the grey blade sheared through its foreleg. The Warghorse shrieked in agony and snapped at me as I danced back, then dashed forward again to slash at its face. The Rune sword ripped through its skull, bones crunching as the beast gurgled on the blood pouring out of its mouth. It staggered away.

Then the Warghorse collapsed onto the paving stones. I approached it one careful step at a time as Timur ran past me, Argat and Gur right behind him as they raced towards the old man.

My attention was focused on the beast, still twitching feebly, and I positioned myself along its side as I raised my sword. Then I slashed downward through the back of its neck, grabbed the beast's head with one hand, and cut away the tendons until the head swung free of the body.

I threw it to one side and turned around as Timur shouted, "Argat, run to Ishtar's temple and get one of the Celtic priestesses. My father's dying." Timur had the old man's head in his lap as his father gasped for breath.

Argat turned and sprinted across the plaza, passing by Timur's brother Varsena, who was running towards us. As he got close, Varsena called out, "How is father?"

"Bad," Timur growled as Varsena slid to a stop. More people were racing towards us and shouting as Timur watched as his brother knelt beside him. "Varsena, if we don't get a healer here soon or even a Blood mage, he's not going to make it. What in Tengri's name happened?"

Varsena grimaced. "Wargsbane in a piece of fruit; I can't think of anything else it could have been."

Shaking the drops of blood off my blade, I stopped beside them. "I thought Wargsbane only made animals too tired to move."

"In anything except a true Warg or Warghorse," Timur answered, looking up at me. "In Wargs, it sends them into a frenzy, as if they were rabid."

"This was more than just a frenzy, my prince. The beast was specifically going after you."

"I noticed that as well," Varsena added. "Someone wiped a piece of fruit with a cloth that had your smell before adding the Wargsbane, then somehow managed to sneak it into the feed the Warghorses ate."

Timur glanced down at the old man. "But why was father's Warghorse the one affected?"

"Random chance," I replied before Varsena could speak. It wasn't chance at all, of course, since I had a good idea I knew who was responsible. But Timur didn't need to know that. "My prince, the poisoner likely placed the tainted fruit on top of the mixture during an unguarded moment, and since your father's beast was the first to be fed, it got the Wargsbane instead of another."

"What she is saying makes sense," Varsena said, "but I do not understand who would want to have you killed."

"The answer is obvious," I replied. "This was a Sasnayam plot to kill your brother. My prince," I said as I dropped to one knee on Timur's other side, "in my current state, I can see who is loyal to you and who isn't, and other signs as well. Grant me leave to walk around this assembled gathering and find the poisoner, who's doubtless still lurking about so he can report back to his Sasnayam masters about what happened."

Timur gave me a sharp nod. "Do it, and if you're certain you have the right person, cut off their head on the spot and hold it up for all to see."

"By your will," I replied, getting to my feet as I glanced towards Porthos and the merchants around him. Time to find a scapegoat.

Before I could take a step, Gur hissed, "Az, behind you." I looked back over my shoulder.

A pair of three-dimensional red line drawings about a foot tall, in the shape of four armed Nomads, were racing towards me. The red runes on my sword blade began to glow as if a fire burned within them, and as I held the blade out for the drawings to touch, the red glow transferred over to them.

Then they turned around and raced towards the Temple district gate. Timur inhaled sharply. "Az, your Nomads, are they..."

"Dead? If those were their tattoos, then they'd have to be, or else the tattoos wouldn't come off. Don't worry about it; the tattoos will now seek out new Chaldeans, either another set of twins or real Nomads, which would serve our needs better than the two I had before."

Gur was giving me a strange look. "But... I thought the twins were your friends."

I shrugged. "When I return to being my weaker self, I'll mourn them, but right now I have a job to do."

"Varsena," Timur said, "go with Az and if she executes this poisoner, tell everyone of the People why she killed him." Varsena returned him a suspicious look, and Timur snapped, "I know we don't care a dog's dropping about each other, but our people deserve to know what is going on."

Varsena took a deep breath. "Apologies. You are right, they do deserve to know." He looked at me and an uncertain expression slid onto his face. "Is she safe when she is like this?"

"You aren't the poisoner," I replied before Timur could speak, "because your hands aren't stained, and you have two small tusks coming out the sides of your mouth. So, you aren't an enemy."

"Tusks?"

"You want her to see those," Timur said. "Trust me."

Varsena shook his head in confusion, but walked alongside me as I started across the plaza towards the south pyramid. An idea was forming in my mind, and as we got out of earshot of Timur, I glanced Varsena's way. "I predict your father will be dead within a quarter-hour at most."

He jumped as if I'd poked him with a red-hot metal bar. "Dead? But-"

"The tusks coming out of his mouth were cracking and chipping away as I watched. My Nomad Chaldeans are also dead, which logically means that the merchant-spy Balthazar betrayed us, and took both the boy Paulus and Greywolf, and possibly Wysper as well. Earlier, your brother Avitohol was sent to find Greywolf, and hasn't returned."

Varsena sucked in his breath. "I think I see where you are going with this. Avitohol finds the twins down and Greywolf gone, asks the guards at the gate what they saw... oh no."

I nodded, resting the unsharpened piece of the back blade on my shoulder. "His cousin Hypam and her warriors are camped just beyond Bukhara. If your younger brother's fairly certain the merchant took them, he would see it as following your father order to enlist the group to go after them."

"And he would insist on going along as well," Varsena said, shaking his head. "He would never dream that father could be dead... and Timur will use his absence against us."

"Against him," I replied. "Prince Varsena, your older brother will take control of your people no matter what you do, leaving you and your wife homeless on the cusp of winter."

"You forget I am a mage-crafter," he spat back at me. "Khor would find my skills of great value."

I raised my eyebrows. "Instead of a lapdog, the Lords of Khor are going to discover they've now got a Direwolf living next door. So they might decide not risk his wrath by taking you in. And while the Black Dragon clan would accept you, Timur told me they have peculiar ideas about sharing females not protected by marriage into the clan."

Fear gnawed at his face a moment before he grit his teeth. "The woman approaching us is my wife, Sorocan, and she is unafraid to face whatever dangers we have to brave if Timur kicks us out as he promised."

Glancing at the woman running towards us, I remarked, "You do know she's bearing your child, right?"

He stopped and gaped at me for a moment. "Child? How could you know that?"

"Because she's got a tiny infant attached to her chest like a parasite. Now, you could risk their safety on the open road, or you could take charge of your people when Timur moves them to the sheltered place he has picked out for them. Think about it: when Timur leads the army south in the spring, he isn't planning to take your people with him."

"But... that is not the traditional way we fight."

I raised my eyebrows. "Is anything that's happened over the last several days traditional?" Varsena opened his mouth, but then closed it again as he shook his head. "Exactly my point. Now, since he plans on leaving your people here while he leads the army, which of the tribal khans should he appoint to lead the people in his place?"

Varsena frowned. "If he appoints one over the others, there will be a great deal of tension." He took a deep breath. "You are saying I could sit on the chair of the Great Khan in his place, without the other khans being jealous. But he will not do this. Timur hates me."

I put my grey, skull-like face near his, smiling as he shuddered. "Prince Varsena, your brother wants your respect. Give it to him today when you speak to your people, do not fight the inevitable, and I will advise him to bury the dagger between you both.

“I will be honest: I don't care whether you and your family live or die. However, as the highly intelligent brother, who cannot usurp Timur's position because he's a mage, you're in a unique place to help. I want you with us." Varsena stared at me uncertainly as I pull back. "Go to your wife and discover whether or not I'm telling the truth, then join me."

I left him and headed toward Dancer and Fox, who were rushing my way, Karl with Lys on his shoulder striding close behind. "Domina," Dancer called out as they got close, "the Nomads-"

"Yes, I know. However, I need you both to run to the main gate and find out from the guards if they've seen Prince Avitohol, and if so, where he went and with who. Fox, you run back here and give the information to Prince Timur. No one else." I grabbed her arm. "Do not use the Shadowlands. I don't want anyone associating you with being a Shadow-walker until long after today is over."

Fox nodded. "Yes, Domina."

"Good. Dancer, after you send Fox on her way, head to the inn and see what happened. Take your time searching... there's no reason to hurry, now."

Dancer took a deep breath and nodded as well. "Yes, Domina."

"Good. Now, before you leave, I know what both of you did today in my service." They both went still as field mice until I placed a hand on their shoulders. "Your actions may well have won us the war, though we'll see in time. Regardless, I won't forget. Now, go." They traded a look and took off running for the Temple gate as I walked over to Lys. "You took a chance, making Timur the target."

Lys gave me a sly smile. "I had faith in your martial prowess."

I inclined my head, sharing a smile with her for a moment as Varsena hurried over, holding his wife's hand in a firm grasp. "Amazonia, I... Apologies for doubting you."

My expression turned serious as my eyes met his. "Remember what I told you and follow me." Striding towards Porthos and the merchants all standing around him in front of the pyramid, I took the Rune sword off my shoulder and held it in my right hand. "Porthos," I called out, "the merchant there in the red robes is an agent for the Sasnayam empire."

Porthos and the other merchants gasped and drew away from the dark haired man, whose mouth was opening and closing like a gasping fish. "This is an outrage," he finally spat out. "I am a loyal citizen of Bukhara."

"Then why do I see wings of the Sasnayam lion sticking out of your back?" Sweat popped out on his forehead and I snarled, "Answer me!"

I walked forward until the tip of the grey blade was less than a foot from his throat. "I... no, please, it is not my fault." The man dropped to his knees. "They threatened my family if I did not cooperate."

The tip of my blade moved to the hollow spot at the base of his throat. "Then it seems you have a choice to make. Name names, and die fast, or refuse, and see your family thrown into the charnel pits for the dead to play with." I peeled my lips back in the rictus of a smile. "I will make sure the dead are... creative." He hesitated, and I snarled, "Speak nothing but the truth, for I will see their lion wings as clearly as I see yours."

The man began to cry. Names flowed from his lips as fast as the salty water from his eyes, the names meaning nothing to me but they did to Porthos, for he grimaced. "May sand blast their faces and close their mouths. They were trusted men."

"Have someone take me to them and I will sort out their guilt or innocence. Now, all of you stand back." Behind me, sandals and boots scraped stone in the merchant's haste to get away as I took the sword with both hands and held it up. "I pronounce you guilty of the poisoning of the Great Khan's Warghorse and attempted murder of Prince Timur."

The man's eyes widened. "Murder? But-"

I swung hard, cutting off his words as the blade sheared through his neck. His head fell away as blood spurted from the severed vessels, the body collapsing a moment later as his life flowed onto the paving stones in a growing pool. I shook the blood drops from the blade as Varsena cautiously walked over. "Was he truly the poisoner?"

"To my sight, his hands are stained red as the berries of the Wargsbane plant," I told him as I pointed towards them with the sword.

His light brown hands were unstained, of course, but Varsena believed what I was telling him, for he nodded. "Then I will tell the People," he said, picking up the dead man's head by its hair. "And Amazonia?" I raised my eyebrows and he sighed. "My child will be born here in the spring."

Varsena walked away, tapping the deice in his ear before speaking to the crowd in their harsh language. His wife fell in beside him, her expression fearful while his had become grimly determined, as if he now knew what he had to do.

"Porthos," I said as I turned towards him, "can you find me someone who knows the people the poisoner named?"

"I will come with you and point them out myself," he replied in an indignant voice. "This nest of vipers must be eradicated once and for all."

I nodded as his own tiny lion wings shriveled up and disappeared. "Excellent. Let me tell the prince what we intend first, and then we'll go."

Karl, with Lys still on his shoulder, fell in beside us. "Argat's coming with the older Celtic priestess. I wonder if she'll make it before-"

From the place where a crowd had formed around Timur and his father, a keening wail began. "I believe her services are no longer needed," Lys said. "I recognize that voice as Khingla's wife."

We continued walking as Timur, with Gur beside him, left the crowd and joined us. "Az, you were right. He called for Avitohol at the end, then choked on his own blood. We tried to save him…"

Timur broke off talking. Porthos, Lys, and Karl expressed their sympathy as Varsena continued, the crowd erupting in wails of their own. "My prince, I believe your people now know as well."

"They do," he said with a sigh. Then his gaze sharpened. "Az, what did you tell my brother? He's speaking more respectfully about me to the crowd than he's ever done in his life."

"Merely helped him understand he has more to lose than he realized, and much to gain as the one person who can sit in your chair and dispense justice in your name, without being allowed to take the throne himself. If you can both overcome your differences, he will make a valuable ally."

Timur blinked… then began stroking his beard. "It will be hard, yet I admit it would solve a great many problems. To be honest, I had not thought that far ahead."

"But we have," Lys said, standing up on Karl's shoulder before stepping gracefully over to Timur. "My prince, Amazonia has a list of Sasnayam agents still remaining in Bukhara. While she, Porthos, and Karl go after them, you and I can plot out our next move."

Timur nodded. "Az, do whatever it takes to get to the bottom of this scheme against me. I want to see all of those who are guilty in the death of my father, brought to justice and executed."

To my sight, Lys' hands are stained bright red as the berries on a Wargsbane bush. "By your will. Porthos, will you command the guards to seal all the gates so no one can leave?"

"At once." Porthos hurried over to several guards in brass armor as Karl and I took our leave of the prince and walked away. I slowed my pace to sheathe my sword, and Karl said, "Should I find a couple Warghorses to speed up our search?"

I shook my head as my lips peeled back in the rictus of a smile. "There's no need. Walking is fine, because we have all the time in the world, now."

All the time in the world.