Amazonia - The Storm Lord

My eyes narrowed as I stared up at the collar around Inanna’s throat. “Inanna," I said in the language of the dead, "has the priestess Akbar taken over control of you?”

Inanna’s dead eyes met mine. “”Apologies,” she said in a different voice than Inanna’s, using Greco-Roma, “but I am Akbal. I stole the Necromantic texts from Ishtar so they would not be destroyed, and while I was waiting for the war to begin, I read through them. The texts spoke of a way for a necromancer’s spirit to inhabit a body, and use it like a suit of armor, and I thought it a useful skill to learn.”

“Have you ever done this to Inanna's body before?” I asked, switching to Greco-Roma.

Inanna’s head nodded. “Many times during the march, when I would lay out in one of the wagons as if asleep. Inanna’s body remembers how to fight, but her mind cannot coordinate the movements like she used to-”

“And she fights like one of the manikins the mages of Bukhara use. Are you telling me you can do better?”

Inanna’s head nodded once more. “I have been working with Inanna’s body for weeks, and while I cannot fight with the same fury she was supposed to have had in life, her movements are much more fluid and not mechanical.”

“That would be a good thing.” Glancing over towards the other side of the river, a line of soldiers, led by a warrior towering over the rest, crested the ridgeline and marched down the slope. I looked back at Akbar as I decided on the best lie she would believe. “Ishtar will eventually realize the texts have been stolen, which means Tanit could find out as well.”

“That would lead to disaster,” Akbal’s voice replied from Inanna’s mouth. “From what I know of her, Tanit would likely turn Khan Timur into a Shadowman under her influence by convincing him to do so.”

“Meaning I would have no choice but to serve her as well, since my weaker self is bound under oath to serve Timur.” I regarded her a moment. “What if Tanit can’t convince Timur to join her?”

Inanna’s massive body shrugged. “She could slip him the potion and change him anyway, but she would not influence him. However, as a Shadowman, he would share many of her values, so they could likely work together.”

Interesting. On the other side, several hundred soldiers in chainmail armor, carrying battle-axes or maces, and round shields, were marching in a close formation towards us. Their conical helms had a spike on top with a lightning bolt attached. The large warrior leading them had the same helm, but he wore Artifact plate armor and wielded a two-handed sword as big as Inanna’s.

Without taking my eyes off the approaching infantry, I said, “Akbal, my weaker self heard from Ishtar what Shadowmen are supposed to be like, and while I believe Timur would be stronger if he were changed into that form, my weaker self will not, and shall actively work to keep that from happening. For the sake of my mission, I cannot allow Tanit to gain access to the texts.”

“When the battle is over, I give you my sworn word that the Necromantic texts shall go to Lys, both for for safekeeping, and so she can decide if any of the lore within could be of use. Will this suffice?”

“It will.” The Sasnayam forces had almost reached the ford, the sound of their sandaled feet thumping the ground in unison growing louder by the moment. I could see the large warrior’s armor clearly now, the shiny black surface pitted and cracked in places from previous blows taken, meaning it had to be much weaker than mine. “It would seem the Storm Lord didn’t have time to have a new set of armor made.”

“From what I heard about him, he probably did not regard new armor as necessary. If you goad him, you can likely get him to break through the line without his men.”

I smiled. “If I can do so, fight like a manikin until you get a clear shot, then strike hard.” Inanna’s head nodded as I turned around. “Warriors, reinforce the line, replacing any in front of you who fall, but leave me a large space to fight in. Inanna and I will battle the large warrior if he breaks through.”

In response, the Shamblers flowed around us as they moved towards the front, leaving me inside an open space behind the front line. I raised my voice. “Warriors, if I fall in combat, all of you are to march forward until you reach the fighting, and kill all living men trying to cross the river. Do not let your feet touch the water and hold the line until you can fight no more.”

The dead clashed their weapons once against their shields. I turned back around as the large warrior raised a fist and the officers in gold-washed armor barked out commands. The infantry stopped at the water’s edge.

Sword in hand, the large warrior strode out into the ford until he stood halfway across. He bellowed in Greco-Roma, “I am the Avatar of the Lord of Storms. Is anyone in charge of this mob?”

I raised the grey Rune sword over my head. “That would be me. If you want to cross the river, you’ll have to fight your way through us.”

“This does not make any sense,” he yelled back over the sounds of rushing water. His face reminded me of a statue, all chiseled and sharp angles, but his eyes drooped and his features sagged as if he was tired. Possibly even exhausted. “There is no possible way you can hold the ford against us. My Immortals will cleave a path right through your troops, Shadow Knight, despite their being walking corpses. There is no possible way for you to win.”

The Storm Lord shuddered as I gave him the rictus of a smile. “I don’t have to win; I only have to grind your forces down, and give Khan Timur more time to dig in. You, on the other hand, need to cross this ford as soon as possible, and try to dig Timur’s forces out. According to Kax, your empire’s like a house made of rotten wood, and if you don’t stop us from chopping away at the support beams, it’s going to fall down around your ears.”

“Where’s Kax?” The desperate note in his voice made me smile. “I demand to speak with her.”

“She’s in the command tent with Timur, drinking Etruscan wine and laughing at your incompetence. No, you’re going to cower behind your men and send them to die, because the dead will never stop fighting until there are none left. And all I have to do then, is get the khan’s necromancers to make us more.”

He stabbed his sword towards my face. “Not if I kill you first. I have fought your kind before, Shadow Knight, and I know your arrogance. You think you will be able to escape the battlefield before we kill you.”

I laughed, wild and feral. “And who’s going to stop me? You? Kax tells me that, since your mana dried up, you’ve gotten slow as Inanna’s corpse here.” My smile returned. “Your corpse will be a fitting companion to Inanna’s when we march on the capitol.”

“I’ll send you to the Shadowlands first” he snarled, glancing over his shoulder as he barked out a command in the Sasnayam language. At once, the first hundred or so of his Immortals formed two ranks and marched into the water, continuing forward until they reached him. He led them onward until they were almost to the river’s edge.

The Storm Lord barked out an order and they charged. Screaming out war cries, his warriors hit our front line with their shields and a few Shamblers stumbled back, the rest holding fast as the warrior’s battle-axes and maces attempted to get past the Shambler’s defenses.

The dead held fast. The living warriors knew to aim for the head, and several Shamblers dropped with their skulls shattered. But the ones behind moved forward, their own weapons mechanically rising and falling against the Immortal’s shields as more Shamblers move forward to fill in the gaps. On the opposite side, another group of one hundred men began marching across the ford, perhaps to give the warriors, who I knew were going to exhaust themselves soon, a chance to fall back and catch their breath while their comrades took up the fight.

The Storm Lord’s fought like an enraged Ogri. Shamblers fell with their helms caved in and he smashed another to the ground, rushing through the gap into the space I’d left him, leaving his men behind just as Akbal predicted. Shamblers moved to fill in the hole. Several of his men gave desperate cries as I raised my sword and stalked forward. “It’s just the three of us, Celestial,” I said as I took the Rune sword in both hands. “Just don’t get too close to the dead or they may take a swipe at you.”

Fury swept across his face as he stalked forward. “I do not need to kill the dead. Only you.” He leapt forward and swung downward at my head.

I slid right as I made a sideways cut, the Rune sword striking an Artifact plate and bouncing off as the armor piece crackled like a fist hitting a mirror. His blade sliced the air beside me as Inanna’s corpse raised her sword, moved forward like a manikin, and swung down.

The Storm Lord heaved his own sword upward and deflected the blow at an angle, grunting as the blades shrieked against each other. I planted my feet and swung at his shoulder, smashing an Artifact plate into pieces as he grunted and swung sideways at my head.

I ducked under the blow and lunged for his face. He jumped backwards, fear in his eyes for the first time as he went into a defensive crouch, his concentration on me as I began moving sideways as if trying to circle around him. He mirrored my move, glancing over his shoulder at Inanna, who slowly raised her sword as if trying to remember what she was supposed to do with it. Behind me, the battle raged on as he disregarded Inanna and plunged forward.

Inanna’s corpse moved forward as her sword slashed downward towards his leg. Her blade sheared through the back of his knee and he fell, screaming as my Rune sword punched through the armor in his lower chest almost up to the hilt. The blow threw me off balance, and the sword hilt was pulled from my hands as he landed on his back with the grey blade trapped in the earth. Walking up beside him, the Storm Lord gasped for air as bloody froth came from his mouth. I gave him a grim smile. “What were you telling me about arrogance?” I asked as I grasped the hilt with one hand.

Inanna’s sword crashed down on my head. “That he was absolutely correct,” Akbal said as I collapsed with my head ringing. Inanna’s boot planted itself on my chest as the tip of her sword pressed down against my throat. “You realized, or should have realized, that I have been pretending to be Akbal all along.”

“Tanit,” I gasped, “we can make this work.”

Inanna’s body shook its head. “You are oath-bound to Timur, who will never agree to join our superior race unless forced into it. I also know you will tell me anything I wish to hear while plotting against me.”

“Timur has outriders watching the battle-”

“Who have see Inanna strike you down. But you are the only one who knows I am controlling her corpse. By the time they return to give their report, Timur will have already drunk the potion I am going to give him, and will no longer care. Or at least, care as much. Lys will raise the Storm Lord’s corpse and send it against the army, demoralizing it greatly. A shame you will not be here to march with us into Tesiphon.”

My vision’s clearing, time to get out of here. “Wait, I can help you. I can-”

“No.” The blade slammed down through my throat and the bones in my neck. Blood filled my mouth… I can feel my body dissolving, being pulled somewhere… no, it can’t end like this, it can’t-”

I rolled over onto grass, myself again and not the Shadow Knight as I gasped for breath with my hand going to my throat. My skin was smooth with no wound at all. What in Hel’s name is going on? The grass beneath me was green, and not just green but the color of emeralds, filling the air with a fragrant scent. I rolled to my knees and looked around.

Grey ghosts surrounded me, moving with the slow stillness of the Shadowlands… except, this can’t be the Shadowlands. Yet it was the same battle, because I could see the details of Inanna’s body, still standing beside the Storm Lord’s prone form, and beyond her, the Shamblers were fighting the Sasnayam Immortals, who likely didn’t know their lord was dead. On impulse, I reached out and touched Inanna’s boot.

Cold burned me and I snatched my hand back, closing my hand into a fist. The pain didn’t linger, and opening my hand, my fingers were all fine… no, better than fine. I examined my right hand, then my left, front and back. All my scars were gone. Where in Hel’s name am I? Is this the afterlife?

“Amazonia!” I looked up as a flying creature as large as a Warghorse skimmed over the battle and landed on the grass in front of me. It resembled a bird, but its blue-black feathers gleamed like polished gems and its head was long and narrow. "You made it.”

I stared up at the creature in amazement. “Who are you… and where am I?”

Being careful not to touch the ghosts around us, the creature folded one wing across its chest and bowed. “My name is Wind Dancer, and I am here to welcome you to the Shadowlands.”

I gaped at the creature like a fool. “The Shadowlands? How can this be possible?”

The creature straightened as its other wing swept back to encompass the lands around us. “You now see the Shadowlands as we see them. There are wonders here you cannot even imagine, and I want to show them to you. But first, let me help you to your feet.” It…no, she, extended a wing. There was a claw-like appendage on the inside, and I grasped it as she gently pulled me up.

Then both her wings wrapped themselves around me as she pulled me against her in a warm hug. I tensed, but then relaxed, putting my own armored arms around her. All at once I hugged her tight as tears streamed down my face. “Apologies... I don’t understand what’s come over me.”

“It’s normal,” Wind Dancer replied, holding onto me as shudders wracked my body. “All of us were corrupted creatures once, and the ones who invade our lands still see us the way we used to be. But you’re home now. You are safe.” Safe? I don’t really know what that means. Yet the shudders wracking me stopped, and I wiped my eyes as she let me go. “The Wise Women, the ones the invaders call Night Hags, will help you find your place here. For now, climb on my back so we can fly and get you away from here.”

My eyes widened. “Fly? People don’t fly. What if I let go and fall?”

She laughed. “Silly goose, you’ll bounce. Nothing here can hurt you, except for the invaders.” She shook a moment as if brushing water off her feathers. “They are nasty, ugly monsters we try to keep from spoiling Paradise. But none of them are close, so hop on and we’ll get out of here.” Wind Dancer turned around, and I tentatively climbed onto her back. “Hold on tight,” she called out as she began flapping her wings, her body easily rising above the grey ghosts despite my weight. My fingers clutched the bony ridges of her back as I looked around.

Emerald green grass spread out like waves beside a sapphire blue river, the mountains in the distance standing like sentinels, and as she pumped her wings to gain altitude, I felt my earthly worries falling away as if shedding scales.

I laughed, wild and free, as we began to soar.