Wysper - Little Boots

As Lord Cormac hurled his dagger at my chest, hands grabbed me and pulled me backwards as color drained away from the world.

The throne room changed into a grey place of detailed shadows as I stumbled, but thin arms were there to support me before I fell. "Easy, Wysper," Ghostdog said, his deeply wrinkled face smiling as he helped me regain my feet. "My son would have a fit if I let you bang your knee going down."

I gasped and began to tremble as Castor, who stood beside us, growled, "That was too close."

Ghostdog shrugged as he let me go. "I had to wait until Cormac made his move, although," he added with a chuckle, "I didn't expect him to throw his dagger. I was expecting him to rush the throne and try to take Wysper hostage."

Castor, whose fur stuck out through gaps in his armor, gave Ghostdog a look of disgust before opening his arms towards me. "I know I'm not Greywolf, but you look like you could use a bit of comfort right now." I wished with all my heart he was Greywolf, but I quickly went to Castor, clinging to him as he wrapped his furry arms around me. "It's alright," he said as a sob escaped my lips. "You're safe now."

Castor smelled of leather, steel, and dog, which I found oddly comforting. "Apologies," I told him as the trembling eased. "I never imagined Lord Cormac would turn on me in open court."

"Neither did Cormac," Ghostdog said as I released Castor, who let me go. "He wasn't thinking but reacting." Ghostdog's weathered face turned thoughtful. "However, he did, so we can use it to our advantage." He walked around the shadow my throne had become, to where the long dagger was creeping through the air towards it. "We'll wait until things calm down a bit before putting you back."

Greywolf's katana was already rising, as was the point of Khulan's short spear. But Lord Cormac's guards had their swords halfway out of their sheathes, and other guards were reaching down to draw their weapons as well. "I need to stop this before someone gets hurt."

Ghostdog motioned towards Titan, whose massive hand was clenching into a fist while the other had begun raising his Greatsword. "Look at the Ogri's face. He's ready to start roaring for everyone in the room to hold fast, and I guarantee they will." His gaze moved past the chaos to where shock and horror are evident upon the faces of the crowd beyond the clan chiefs. "Castor and I were watching from a shadowed spot where no one could see us, and heard you tell Lord Cormac's son you wanted to speak with him in private." Ghostdog's hand swept outward to encompass the room. "It doesn't get more private than in here."

I stared at him in disbelief. "You want to snatch away Little Boots like you did to me?" He nodded, and I shook my head. "But people will notice."

"Not if Castor takes his place at the same time. He's standing in the center aisle, away from everyone else, who are focused on what's going on up front. The exchange will happen in less time than a heart beats." He glanced at Castor. "Depending on how much convincing Little Boots needs, someone may notice. But who's going to start screaming, 'Look, Little Boots just turned into a dog'?" Castor rolled his eyes and I stifled the nervous giggle bubbling up as Ghostdog added, "They'll think their eyes are playing tricks on them, especially when he changes right back. So long as Castor doesn't draw attention to himself, all will be well."

Castor growled, "What if someone does decide to start screaming just that?"

Ghostdog only shrugged. "Say they do. What's the worst that could happen?"

I folded my arms across my chest. "The druids put me on trial for witchcraft and sacrifice me among the sacred oaks."

"Okay, besides that."

I threw up my hands for a moment. "Ghostdog, I am beginning to understand Asena's attitude towards you much better than before. This plan-"

"Will give you the best chance to break down Little Boots without anyone else being present," he said, cutting me off. "The druids already know you have a Shadow-walker, as well as having strange powers, but they need you too badly right now to bring charges against you." He shrugged again. "If you win this war, they might try bringing charges later if Pan turns on you, but don't worry about crossing that river until you've crossed this one." He motioned towards Little Boots. "Shall we?"

This plan is insane... and yet, Ghostdog is also right. I sighed. "After you."

Ghostdog smiled and led us to a spot just behind Little Boots, whose shadow was on one foot, the other stepping backwards as if he had decided remaining at court might be a little unhealthy for him right now. Ghostdog had Castor stand right beside the nobleman's shadow, and put me at a spot several arm-lengths behind. "I'll throw him at your feet," Ghostdog said as he drew his own katana, "but you need to put the fear of you into him immediately, or this won't work. No mercy, unless he earns it." His eyes locked onto mine. "Can you do that?"

"Morgana told me that, when the Gauls overran the palace, they overwhelmed my mother, beating her with spear shafts, then raped my sister in front of her. After they finished, the soldiers cut my sister's throat before beating my mother to death. Then they cut off her head and hung it on a spike over the main gate. Little Boots likely knows all of this, though I do not see how he could have done anything about it without being killed himself." I could feel my heart covering over with ice as my face became the one my mother wore when pronouncing judgment. "No mercy unless he earns it."

Ghostdog nodded with his face implacable as a Pictish chieftain as he turned toward the two figures, one real, one shadow, and extended his hand. A grey oval formed around them as both became real.

Then Ghostdog grabbed Little Boots by the back of his tunic and hurled the man backwards as the grey oval vanished. Castor became a detailed shadow as Little Boots stumbled and fell at my feet, Ghostdog pivoting towards him as the nobleman cursed like a soldier. Then he gasped as Ghostdog put the tip of his blade at the man's throat. "Welcome to the Shadowlands, son of Cormac," he said in a mocking voice. The nobleman's eyes went wide and Ghostdog gave him an evil smile. "And unless you'd like to remain here forever as a ghost in the Grey, I suggest you listen to your queen."

I cleared my throat and he looked up with a fearful expression on his face. "My queen, you vanished. I-"

"To walk the Shadowlands is forbidden by the druids," I said in a cold voice. "Except the druids already know I will use whatever is needed to save my people." I looked down at him as if he were a wharf rat. "What the druids, or anyone else save my Shadow-walker, do not know, is that sixteen nights ago you rode with your father to meet with the Gauls."

Little Boots visibly swallowed. "My queen-"

Ghostdog presseed down lightly on the man's throat with the tip of his sword. "What did I tell you about listening to your queen?"

He gave Ghostdog a tiny nod, who eased off the pressure as I continued. "When I am finished, and let you leave the Shadowlands so we both can return to court, when I ask, you will swear to me that you knew nothing of your father's treason. I will claim to believe you. Then, when I assemble my own council, you will be made one of my advisers, and will counsel me on what the Gauls are planning. You do know, do you not?"

He hesitated, his body tensed... but then let out his breath and went limp. He nodded. "My father had me with him since the beginning, likely to become the scapegoat he could pin his treason on should someone find out," he added in a bitter voice.

"I suspected as much. You will inform me if the Gauls contact you after your father, his personal guards, and his squires, are all hung for treason." Little Boots gasped again, but I ignored it as I went on. "Should I require it, you will become a two-faced Janus, giving the Gauls what I want them to hear while learning all you can. This will be a dangerous ploy for you, yet your rewards shall be great once we win this war."

Little Boots hesitated again. "Permission to speak?" I nodded, and he said, "My queen, my father made common cause with the Gauls because he doesn't believe the Brittani Confederation stands a chance of winning. Balor One-eye promised him the petty kingship over Britannia once our forces were crushed."

Ghostdog snorted. "Cormac actually believed him? I've known Balor far longer than any of you have been alive, and among the Celestials, Camulos is the only friend he's got left... mostly because Camulos only cares about fighting and getting drunk. Balor's betrayed all the other Celestials still alive at one time or another."

Little Boots turned his head to look up at me. "My queen, is this true?"

I nodded. "According to Lady Morgana, her mother has known Balor since ancient times, and he always searches for traitors among his enemies. Then he hangs them after the war is over."

"If you're willing to betray your own people," Ghostdog said, "he knows you'll betray him in an instant. I've watched Balor do this time and again, laughing as he strings them up."

Horror swept across Little Boots' face, the man trembling as the full truth was exposed. I went down to one knee beside him. "If I thought we had no chance of winning, I would never have returned. We have allies the Gauls know nothing about, including Celestials who will fight for us." Horror faded, replaced by hope, and I raised a warning hand. "I can say nothing more of this until the time is ripe. However, there is another matter I wish to speak about. A betrothal, in fact."

His eyes widened. "With her majesty?"

A sardonic smile touched my lips. "I know better than to raise up one of the clan chiefs to High King, especially a wolf like you." He blinked, perhaps trying to work out if that was a complement or insult, as I went on. "I have spoken with my advisers, including Lady Morgana and the druids, who tell me that in cases where the queen cannot produce an heir of her own, she is permitted to adopt one."

His expression grew wary. "Whose child does my queen plan to adopt?"

"My dream is to eventually unite the Confederation with the Kingdom of the Picts, or at least strengthen the ties between the two. So, the best way I can see to make this dream real, is to have an heir with noble blood from both sides of the border. Lady Morgana tells me you have strong feelings for a Pictish princess. Is this true?"

He reared back slightly. "Fina? I... yes, we do have feelings for each other, but she's only a minor princess and my father was opposed-"

"Since you are going to become clan chief of the Brigantes before the sun sets, you can marry as you please. When we take up the question of succession, I will present to the clan chiefs my desire to adopt a newborn son or daughter of both bloods to be my heir, so long as both parents are noble. Along with several others to act as insurance against misfortune, of course."

"Of course." The expression on the man's face turned calculating. "So... if Fina and I produce the first child?"

"That child would become my heir. I am also not going to quibble about the timing, so long as the child is born after my decree is accepted." I gave Little Boots a knowing look. "And if the parents are legally married before the child is born."

He paled. "How did you know? We've only just found out... I begged her to keep the knowledge to herself."

Ghostdog snorted again. "You've got a lot to learn about Pictish women if you're going to marry one."

I rose to my feet. "Ghostdog, do you think her father will allow this union?"

"For the opportunity to have his granddaughter or grandson become the ruler of Britannia? I would bet gold Little Boots is going to have the shortest betrothal before marriage on record." He looked down at the nobleman. "Any oath you swear in the Shadowlands has to be kept, or you'll find yourself here for the rest of eternity."

I felt that Ghostdog was making that up, but when Little Boots glanced up at me, I nodded. "Normally, I would never ask a clan chief to swear his oath of loyalty to me here. Yet, under the circumstances..."

I let the words hang, and he sighed. "I understand. Permission to rise?" Ghostdog took the sword blade from his throat, and Little Boots rose to his knees. He clasped his hands together and bowed his head. "I swear that, from this moment forward, I will serve Queen Boudica, who was once known as Wysper, with true loyalty, and with honor. I will not shirk from any task she assigns me, even if it means my death, and I will give her true counsel at all times." He looked up at me. "Should I ever fail in this oath, I demand the creatures of the Shadowlands come and snatch me away for all time. This I swear."

Remembering how my mother used to do this, I placed both hands upon his head. "You shall be like a son to me. Also," I added, for my mother never had a problem conceiving children, "your child with the Lady Fina will be my child, to be raised by her in safety until the Gauls have been pushed back into the sea. This, I do swear." I removed my hands and stepped back. "You may rise."

As Little Boots got to his feet, there was a graveness to his face that had not been there before. "My queen, I shall not fail you. How do I leave the Shadowlands?"

With his sword, Greywolf motioned to a spot beside Castor. "When I give the word, walk right past that fellow and stop when you're back in the real world. Your queen will return a few moments later." Little Boots nodded, and as a grey oval formed, Ghostdog said, "Now." Little Boots strode through the oval as Ghostdog pushed it forward to encompass Castor.

Who became real as Little Boots turned into a shadow. "About time," he growled. "A lady just noticed me and I think she's about to scream." To his right, the shadow of a well dressed woman had her hand to her mouth as Castor said, "So, what happened?"

"Little Boots and the Brigantes now belong to Wysper," Ghostdog replied.

I let out a sigh. "Or they will, once I have hung the old clan chief." I am Brittani. I will do what needs to be done. "Come on," I said to them as I started towards the front. "We have work to do."