Amazonia - Timur’s Triumph

Long, brass trumpets blasted out their call as the great gate of Tesiphon opened for Timur.

The city had fallen two nights past, when the dead Sasnayam kings each led their host of loyal corpses to different parts of the city, and the terrified citizens had panicked. The smart ones hid, while the rest rushed the gates and overwhelmed the guards, opening the gates for the White Horde as they stampeded out to our lines. Khan Timur had rushed his men forward to ‘help’ those fleeing, and held the gates until the dead had run out of Shadow mana and collapsed. Then he moved his troops inside and took the city.

War-leader Kula took command of the horde infantry holding Tesiphon while Timur remained with lancers and the rabble from the satrapies, until the city was deemed safe for him to enter. However, Timur had never been known for his patience, and the previous night had sent word to Kula to stage a triumph, so the people of Tesiphon could see their new master.

Which is why I stood beside Timur’s Warghorse in the light of the early morning as the great gates, so high that four men standing on each others shoulders could pass beneath the pointed arch, creaked as their mechanisms swung the gates wide. The trumpets blew again as I glanced back behind us. A hundred of Tengri’s Chosen, battle hardened warriors in Artifact armor and bearing Artifact weapons, stood in formation while a narrow line of Warghorse lancers snaked back towards our lines.

The trumpets blew a third time, and I looked forward again as Timur touched heels to his Warghorse’s flanks and started it walking. I matched its stride as a voice behind us barked an order and a hundred boots struck the paving stones as one. Down the line, more orders were called out, and the scratch of claws on rock began as well.

War-leader Kula stood alone in the gateway. His armor was scarred and dirty, with his helm dented in several places, and I knew he had to be exhausted. Yet his face betrayed nothing as he held a spear upright with a head stuck onto the tip. Timur glanced down at me. “Kula said you were the one who chopped off the emperor’s head.”

I shrugged. “I didn’t see much point in keeping him alive… and speaking of which,” my eyes meeting his, “how much longer do you want to keep Kax alive?”

Timur’s eyes narrowed. “You’re becoming more ruthless the longer you remain a Shadow Knight. You know you can go back to your normal self any time you want, right?”

I shook my head. “Not until my mission’s well and truly finished.”

“Amazonia-”

“I’m fine for now. While I cannot eat or drink… and yes, Great Khan, I know it’s been several days. However, when I change back for the last time, my mortal body will be little affected.”

I was lying, of course, since I could feel the hollowness within me. But it seemed to appease him, for he looked away from me and focused on Kula, now only a few horse-lengths away. “War-leader, is everything in hand?”

“It shouldn’t be,” Kula growled. “Tesiphon fell too easily.” Timur reached him and Kula handed the spear over, Timur placing the spear butt into a leather cup attached to the saddle. Kula went on. “The remaining Celestials are hiding somewhere, plotting revenge on us.”

Timur chuckled. “It’s good to know some things never change. By the way, where is Kax?”

“Going after the priests of the other temples, last I heard,” Kula growled. “Great Khan, now that we’ve taken the city, how much longer can we trust her?”

Timur glanced at me a moment before turning back. “That’s a very good question. Kax would enjoy murdering us in our beds before taking control of Tesiphon, but the People of the Eternal Sky would tear her apart and she knows it. I believe we’re safe enough for now, but still...” A frown swept across his face. “Make sure you both remain on guard.”

I inclined my head as Kula said, “As the Great Khan commands. Shall I accompany you into your city?”

“My city.” A satisfied smile replaced the frown on Timur’s face. “By all means.”

Kula turned towards the column behind us and began barking orders in their harsh language. At once, Tengri’s Chosen fell in around us while two men holding the charging boar banners in their hands took their positions on either side of the khan. Trumpets blasted out their call again as the column resumed its march.

We moved through the gatehouse extending a dozen horse-lengths at least, and into the first plaza. The buildings to either side extended several levels up, casting deep shadows we would quickly plunge into, their windows and doors long and narrow. All of them had the rounded arch the Sasnayams seemed to favor. The plaza and the roads leading in different directions were paved, and though I couldn’t see the palace yet, Kula led us down the center road, which skirted the necropolis before reaching the center of Sasnayam power… or at least, what used to be. What it would become was no longer my concern.

Mostly silent people lined the plaza and center street, wearing robes and long dresses made of bone white cloth, which was supposed to represent mourning or some such foolishness. They watched us pass with sullen faces muttering to one another and angry eyes.

The infantry soldiers watching the crowd were a thin line of squads with large gaps between them. Timur frowned. “War-leader, where are the rest of your men?”

“Still trying to dig out the nobles. There’s an entire underground city underneath our feet, and it’s been like hunting rats through the sewers.”

As we passed by a statue of a long dead ruler, a stone scroll in one hand and a sword in the other, it was my turn to frown. “Dancer told me you had the city well in hand.”

“It is in hand,” Kula snarled at me. “Unlike you, I cannot afford to throw my soldier’s lives away. And since we’re speaking of your Wardogs, you need to keep better watch over them. My men report they’ve been seen sneaking away and speaking with disreputable people, including Kax.”

Is this true? Or is it just dogs falling out with each other when the pack’s no longer threatened? “My Wardogs will remain loyal to me for as long as the Runesword remains intact, and since I remain loyal to Timur, they will remain loyal to him as well. No, the ones I would question, and the ones I will be keeping an eye on for changes in their symbols, are your men.”

Kula’s eyes narrowed. “My men are loyal to the man and you know it.” He looked angry enough to draw on me, and I hoped he would.

“Enough,” Timur growled. His head turned to meet my gaze. “When we reach the palace, tell me the symbols you see over the heads of everyone waiting for us, including your Wardogs. Will you do this?”

His expression was unyielding as the stones under our feet, and I gave him a questioning look. “Of course. Khan Timur, is something wrong?”

“I want the old Amazonia back. The moment we reach the palace and you’ve discovered where everyone’s loyalty lies, you will let the Shadow Knight go and return to your normal state.”

We left the plaza for the road snaking between blocks of buildings with narrow alleys, the crowd of people thicker here and the street shrouded in shadows. “I will do as you command,” I replied, inclining my head. Odd… the crowd’s gone silent… Forget them. I’ve got to convince Timur I’m telling him the truth, for if he gives me a direct order to change immediately, the Runesword won’t let me back out. “I’m just worried that you’ll be left at a disadvantage once the Runesword shatters and my Shadow self is gone for good. Grant me a little extra time, and I can root out all those in league against-”

“Ambush!” A man yelled behind us.

Arrows hissed like serpents as they flew down. Looking up, leather armored bowmen with faces of the northern Horde clans were standing in the open windows, firing down at us as Sasnayam fighters threw off their robes and charged.

“Protect the Great Khan,” Kula yelled as the Chosen rushed to surround us. I whipped out the Runesword from its sheathe. Blades clashed as the ambushers hit our lines, our warriors fighting like wolves against dogs as Artifact weapons rang like bells, or crackled as steel crashed against their armored plates. Men screamed as they went down, more of them than us. But there were a lot more of them.

Arrows continued to fall like steel tipped hail. One flew towards my face; I flicked it away with my blade, looking for others. They fell around... but not at, Timur and I, as if everyone else was a target, most arrows pinging off armor while a few embedded themselves in gaps between the plates.

Glancing over my shoulder, more warriors and bravos cut us off from the lancers, with different Warghorse riders approaching… one carried a banner of a greyish-silver Warg on a black field. “Khan Timur, your brother’s here.”

“And he’s not alone,” a familiar male voice shouted over the screams and clashing steel. I whipped around with my blade at the ready.

Greywolf stood only a few paces away, his Artifact katana in his hands and his bone handled knife tucked into his belt. “Perfect,” the rictus of a grin coming over my face as he raised the katana in his hands. “Either you’ll kill me, or I’ll send you to the Shadowlands and meet you there myself after your friends take my life.” I raised the Runesword to a high guard position. “I’ve always wondered just how good of a fighter you are.”

Greywolf’s Artifact armor looked pitted and scarred from hard use, and the sun peaking over the buildings showed me its leather was cracked in places, as if he'd not had the chance to do any major repairs. My armor gleamed unblemished in the sunlight. My grin widened, and as he took a defensive stance, I leapt at him with an overhead strike. He whipped his sword up to defend and I dropped the blade towards the weak armor covering his knee. I had him now, his desperate attempt to parry too slow to block the black blade crashing against his armor…

The Runesword shattered with the crash of breaking glass. Shards fell away like pieces of black crystal, glittering in the sunlight as I stumbled forward, off balance as the flat of Greywolf's blade smacked the side of my helm. My hilt, with one long shard still attached, dropped from my hand as my vision filled with stars. I fell to my hands and knees.

No… no,no,no! My true self’s being pulled away from my weaker, leaving my body… hold onto it, grab the hilt and cut your throat with the shard. I thrust my hand out and grasped the hilt.

A hand clamped itself on my wrist. “Today’s not your day to die,” Greywolf snarled as I grabbed his hand with my other one and tried to break his grip. I’m weakening… quick, throw your head down and impale your neck. I fell forward but his arm blocked my head, the both of us wrestling for control… he’s fighting me, but I’m stronger in this state… getting closer… the shard’s only a handspan away… one last push…

Cold, ghostly fingers reached inside me. “Get out of her,” Antonius’ voice snapped as I felt the Shadow Knight pulled out of me and became myself again. Pain hit me hard as my flesh snapped back to normal, Greywolf ripping the hilt out of my hand and flinging it away as I clutched my body with both hands. Then the agony eased and I looked up.

Antonius’ ghostly form stood over me with the Shadow Knight’s equally ghostly form in his hands. She struggled but he was stronger, holding her fast as she turned towards me with fear in her eyes. I gasped.

The Shadow Knight seemed almost skeletal, with ropy cords of flesh instead of muscle over ash-grey skin, and eyes like two burning coals. Hel’s hairy backside, is that what I looked like? Around us, warriors stopped fighting, calling to each other in fearful voices as the Shadow Knight began shrieking like a doomed soul. Men on both sides began backing away, a few running for their lives.

Greywolf grabbed me by my shoulder armor and hauled me backwards, sliding me along the paving stones until we were a short distance away. “I’m not taking any chances,” he said in my ear as the Shadow Knight continued shrieking, her body growing tattered like a cloud in a fierce wind. All the fighting stopped as she screamed in mortal terror while struggling wildly in Antonius’ arms.

Then the scream faded to silence as the Shadow Knight broke apart and dissolved. I stared wide-eyed at Antonius as he walked over to us and crouched down. “Love you, Az,” he said, quietly smiling in the way I remembered… and my heart gave a lurch. No one will ever smile at me that way again after he’s gone. He nodded as if reading my thoughts. “Everything is going to be better now. You will see.”

“Don’t go,” I whispered. “I don’t want to be alone again.”

“Everything’s a dream, Az. Look for me in the eyes of those who love you, and something of me will be there. I promise.” Antonius blew me a kiss as he faded… and was gone.

Sitting beside me, Greywolf exhaled as the sharp smells of steel and leather, along with the coppery tang of blood, hit my nose with a vengeance. Warriors in northern Horde armor were assembled nearby, their ranks opening to let a short warrior in Artifact armor through. He looked at us. “Greywolf, is Amazonia alright?”

My eyes widened. Is that Attila? I knew it had to be as Greywolf said, “I think she’s been a Shadow Knight too long. Does anyone have watered wine on them?”

“Here.” I glanced up as Timur climbed down off his Warghorse and threw a leather skin at Greywolf, who caught it with one hand. “Don’t let her drink too much or she’s likely to throw it up.” Greywolf grumbled something about knowing that already, and began giving me small sips as Timur turned towards his brother. “You little bastard, sneaking in through the Shadowlands like a thief and thinking to rob me of my triumph.” He sneered at Attila. “You have all the honor Tengri gave to rats.”

Attila snorted the same way Greywolf usually did. “Exactly how honorably did you take Tesiphon, elder brother?”

Timur flushed as his eyes narrowed. “War’s not a game for little boys to play at.”

“Agreement,” Attila replied. His Artifact armor was just as pitted and scarred as Greywolf’s, but the battle-axe he held like a staff seemed unmarred as he said, “You neglected to keep watch over the entrance to the Shadowlands, and I took advantage of your weakness. So you now have two choices. Either surrender, or fight me for the right to become Khan over both Khanates, yours and mine.”

Timur spat in Attila’s direction. “You are the one who should be surrendering. All I need do is speak a word, and my warriors-”

“Will die,” Attila said, interrupting. “You’ve been badly betrayed, older brother.”

Timur drew himself up. “No one would dare.”

From the crowd of Sasnayam bravos ahead of us, a man’s voice called out, “Are you so sure?”

I gasped as Muzen stepped out far enough to be seen. “This cannot be,” Timur said in a strained voice. “Kax-”

“Played her part.”

Several other men and women in rich clothing formed a semi-circle behind him, and Greywolf whispered in my ear, “They’re all Celestials who must have decided not to return to their home.”

Before I could ask Greywolf what he meant, Muzen said, “I must admit it was fun letting the Kax side of me take control for a time, and I needed her to ally with you so I could get my empire back.” He motioned at the half-dozen standing behind him. “With the Lord of Storms dead at Amazonia’s hand, the others were easily persuaded to let me resume control.” He smiled. “We Celestials are pragmatics at heart.”

“And now,” Timur snarled, “you’re going to what? Think to cast me aside like a broken sword?”

Muzen raised one painted eyebrow. “More like put you down as I would a mad beast. I would have slaughtered you and your soldiers to a man, except part of my bargain was to let Khan Attila take control of your warriors and return with them to the north.” Timur opened his mouth to speak but Muzen overrode him. “Kax bribed your Xian mercenaries with gold and a sworn promise to take them into our service, a promise I fully intend to uphold, and made a deal with the rabble from the satrapies, who you were going to sacrifice on the walls of Tesiphon.”

Glancing around us, the crossbowmen had their weapons trained on the Warghorse lancers, while some of the Sasnayam bravos wore armor issued them by Timur. “It’s going to be a bloodbath,” Attila said, Timur turning to look his way as he added, “but it doesn’t have to be. Fight me, your sword and shield against my battle-axe. Winner takes command of the other’s Khanate.”

Timur gave Attila an incredulous look before he started to laugh. “Your just a stripling who’s lucky to be alive. How do I know that after I kill you, your warriors won’t just ride away?”

Attila shrugged. “Ride away where? Ghostdog brought us here through the Shadowlands, leaving the families behind in a safe place north of the sheltered valley where our brother and the rest of our people now live. He will bring the combined Khanate back there once this is over.”

Timur began stroking his beard as Muzen added, “You will not get a better offer. Great Khan, you have plundered much of the empire, including Tesiphon, and this will spare you the long ride back. Spend the winter in Bukhara, and in the spring, head east and regain the kingdoms which we both know have rebelled against you. Who knows, with your combined forces, you might be able to conquer the empire of Xian itself.”

Timur hesitated, lust for power wrestling with suspicion on his face. “How do I know you won’t just raise an army and march against Bukhara?”

Muzen raised one eyebrow again. “What do you think the Empire of the East is going to do when word of Tesiphon’s fall travels north? I am going to be hard pressed to keep things together for years to come, let alone attempt retribution against you.” He made an open gesture with his hands. “Slay this stripling, seize control of his men, and claim your rightful heritage as the Khan of khans. Then truly, none will dare oppose you.”

Attila spat out, “Or die like the cowardly dog you are. Are you going to fight, or keep breaking wind through your mouth?”

Timur gave his brother a dark look. “I’ll make this quick.”

As he unhooked his round shield from the saddle and drew his sword, Kula came up beside him. “Great Khan, be wary. I smell a trap.”

Timur only smiled as he turned towards Attila, who was taking position several horse-lengths away. “All I smell is youthful arrogance. After the boy is dead, take command of his warriors at once.” He glared at Muzen. “We will shake the dust of this accursed empire off our sandals. I am done with plots and counter-plots, with the serpent at your breast pretending to be a golden chain... and the dead. I am done with relying on necromancers.” He slaps the flat of his blade against his shield. “Ready to die, boy?”

As Timur stalked forward towards Attila, who held his battle-axe like it was a polearm, I turned towards Greywolf. “Is Attila mad?” I hissed. “Timur’s a seasoned warrior, and he’s only a youth.”

Greywolf placed his lips next to my ear. “If you believe that, then Timur will as well.”

I gave him a puzzled look, but Greywolf only returned a sly smile as warriors from both sides formed a circle around us, with Greywolf and I on the inside. The two combatants circled each other, Timur’s expression confident while Attila had his face set in a neutral mask. The boy feinted at Timur’s shield. Timur stepped back, then moved forward again as he slashed at Attila’s arm. Attila blocked with the shaft, the steel blade ringing as it bounced off, and Timur studied him for a moment. Then launched a flurry of slashes with his blade.

Attila blocked them all, moving like he was born with this out-sized battle-axe in his hands, beads of sweat popping out on Timur’s forehead while the boy remained cool. Timur paused, and Attila drove his battle-axe deep into the top of the round shield. Then wiggled it as if the axe blade was too deeply embedded into the wood to come out.

Timur shouted in triumph. As Attila struggled, Timur swung his blade in a wide arc meant to wrap around the shaft and hit the boy in the back of his helm.

The axe blade slid out of the wood as Attila slammed the shaft upward. It cracked against Timur’s elbow, knocking the blow aside as Attila pivoted and drove the axe blade at Timur’s helm. Metal rang like a bell as the battle-axe dented Timur’s helm, who reeled backwards, barely staying on his feet.

Attila stalked after him. The short warrior reared back for an overhead blow… no, it’s a feint. Timur threw his shield up to block as Attila pivoted again and swung towards Timur’s leg. The axe blade bit deep into the weak metal protecting Timur’s knee just as Timur made a wild slash at Attila’s face.

The tip of his blade sliced Attila’s cheek as Timur dropped, screaming in pain while Attila staggered back a couple paces. He stopped, regaining his balance before wiping the side of his face with the back of his gauntlet. It came back bloody. Timur struggled to rise but couldn’t as a snarl tightened Attila’s face, the small warrior stalking forward again. Timur, still on his knees, raised his shield. “Don’t come any closer or I’ll gut you like a dog.”

Attila stopped just out of reach of Timur’s blade. “You’ve gotten old and slow, brother, and you’ve forgotten the lessons Kula taught us about fighting against Artifact weapons.”

Blood from the wound, that the dent in his helm caused, dripped down Timur’s face and onto his chest armor. “Artifact weapons don’t stick like metal weapons do,” he panted. “That was a dishonorable trick.”

“Which you fell for.”

Timur winced as he waved his sword, clearly favoring his elbow. “Once I’ve killed you, I’ll have your Grey Wargs shoveling Warghorse shite for the real warriors.”

Blood dripped down Attila’s face onto his chest armor as well as he smiled. “A shame you weren’t with us when Titan told his war stories. He told me one about the king of Macedon, who’d threatened the king of Sparta, telling him: ‘If I come to your lands, I’ll burn your farms and enslave your people’. The king of Sparta replied, ‘If’.” Attila took a step forward.

And swung his battle-axe hard at Timur’s shield, cracking it right down the middle. Timur desperately slashed at Attila’s legs, but the short warrior jumped back with his hands still on the haft, and the blade went wide, Attila pulling his weapon back and regaining his balance as Timur shed the broken shield and grasped his sword with both hands.

Attila let the shaft slip down his hands and began using it like a staff, blocking several off balance swings before cracking Timur across the side of his head, denting the other side. Timur reeled as Attila stepped back. “Get on your feet and fight,” Attila yelled. “Die like a warrior, or I’ll kill you by finger-lengths as a coward.” Timur shook his head to clear it and glared up at him.

Then used his sword to help him stand on one foot. “All I need is one good swing to take your head off,” Timur snarled, sweat mixed with blood streaming down his face.

“Take your best shot,” Attila replied as he moved in, “because that’s all you’re getting.” Attila ran at him with the battle-axe up, yelling a war-cry as Timur leapt at his brother, screaming his own war-cry as his blade began to swing.

Attila buried the axe-head in Timur’s face. Timur slammed into him, but instead of going down, Attila caught his brother and held on as Timur’s sword flew away to clang on the paving stones. Timur clawed at him, blood and gore rushing from the open wound as Attila pushed him away. Timur fell backwards. His helm smacked against stone as he bounced once, hands clawing feebly as he struggled to take another gurgling breath.

Then Timur went still. Attila was panting, fear and relief flashing across his face before he mastered it and looked around. “Kula? Are you with me?” The war-leader had his own sword in his hand as he left the spot where he’d been standing and stood beside the dead khan.

Then he dropped to one knee. “For as long as you want me, Khan Attila.”

Attila face remained in its stern mask, but I could see the relief in his eyes. “Tell the warriors they belong to my Khanate now. We will burn Timur as befits a khan and a true warrior, then travel through the Shadowlands to collect our families and settle in for the winter.”

“It won’t be easy,” Kula growled. “Right now they’re in shock, but once it wears off and spring arrives-”

“We begin migrating westward. Tell them the Sasnayam empire is only the beginning. We are the storm that will sweep away the decadent Etruscan Empire of the west, and all the kingdoms feeding off it like vultures. Tell them no more dealings with the dead. Tell them, Kula; tell the People of the Eternal Sky we are going to do Tengri’s will, and will never turn our backs on him again.”

Kula rose to his feet, a strange expression on his face as he nodded. “Apologies, and sorrow that I couldn’t see the blue sky for the storm clouds.”

Attila clapped the taller man on his arm. “Accepted, and gratitude that you’re with me.”

As Kula turned and begins yelling to his warriors in their harsh language, Muzen drew close to us. “If there is anything I can do to help speed you on your way, you have but to ask.”

From behind me, a deep bass voice began chuckling, and a thrill ran straight through me. For I knew that voice. “Muzen,” Titan said in his deep rumble, “Attila forgot to mention one important part. You are coming with us.”

I turned to look behind me. Titan stood only a few paces away, while beside him stood the High Priest of Jupiter, and a bald headed man in strange clothes. “Osiris,” Muzen said in a startled voice, “Jupiter. What are you two doing here? I thought you were on your way back to your home world.”

“We were,” Jupiter’s priest… no, it must be the Celestial Jupiter himself, said. “However, Ghostdog came up with a plan to remove you from Earth and bring you to our lands, where you will be rendered as helpless as the rest of the Celestials now are.” From behind me came a sharp metallic click, and I whipped my head around.

Ghostdog had opened a gate behind Muzen while holding a golden collar in his hands, and snapped it around Muzen’s throat. The Celestial staggered as Ghostdog stepped back, waving his hands as if apologizing as Muzen spun around. “You can’t do this,” he shouted. “Take this off me at once.”

Ghostdog shrugged with a satisfied smile as the one called Osiris said, “This is for your own good. I crafted the collar specifically for you, so we could bring you with us back to our homeland.”

“You should not even be here. Tholthac-”

“Gave us a reprieve once the plan was explained to him,” Jupiter said. “He agreed that Yun is truly worth saving, so once we have arrived, devices will be implanted inside you that will cause the Kax side of you to wither and die, while helping the goodness of Yun to blossom. Tholthac told me the gardening committee has specifically asked for Yun’s help in-”

“You have no right to do this to me,” Muzen shouted.

“Did you have the right to make Wysper your slave?” Greywolf yelled as he jumped to his feet. “Or the right to make humans dance to the tune you set? “

Muzen snarled at him, “War gives the right of the victor to impose any conditions he wants on the defeated.”

“And what is subterfuge except war by a different means?” Osiris shook his head. “You did this to yourself, you know. When Ghostdog presented to you the plan to steal away the priestesses of Pan, all you could see was the advantage to yourself. All you could see was your victory.”

Muzen drew himself up. “Which you’re not taking away. I will burn you all!” He raised his hands as his eyes flared red.

Small sparks of fire flew off his fingers. “Stop being foolish,” Ghostdog said, slapping the sparks away as Muzen gaped at his hands in horror. The old man gave him a cross look. “Greywolf wanted your head on a spear beside the emperor’s, but I talked him out of it, telling him this is a much better way to make you pay for your crimes. Don’t make me regret my decision.”

The other Celestials behind Muzen grinned wickedly as they grabbed him by the arms and shoulders. He tried shaking them off but they held him with everything they had as Osiris strode towards them. Greywolf moved to join Osiris, but then stopped, frowning at something he saw in the crowd.

Before I could ask him what was wrong, hands grabbed my shoulders. “Az, thanks be to all the false gods you made it.”

I stared up at him. “Dancer, you called me by my name.”

He blinked. “I didn’t even think to call you Domina,” he said, smiling as he held out his hands. “It’s over. We’re finally free.”

“And it’s about time… Domina.” Troll’s voice said behind me. Dancer helped me to my feet as Troll moved towards us. A Xian crossbowman behind him was down on the paving stones, bleeding, with his Artifact crossbow in Troll’s scarred hands. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long, but Antonius would never dream of letting us do what we wanted.” An insane smile spread over his face. “And now, he no longer controls us.”

Dancer had gone stone still beside me as I opened my hands. “Troll, what’s gotten into you?”

Laughter burbled up from deep inside him. “You don’t even remember my real name anymore. I hated you even when we were gladiators; Amazonia, the champion. Bitch goddess who could fuk any man she wanted, who got all the special favors including partnering with the last real Ogri. Amazonia the bitch who had Lord Paulus wrapped around her little finger.” The black crossbow in his hand was cracked and pitted in places from hard use... strange that I’m noticing that detail right now. He placed his hand on the cranking lever. “And then to have to start calling you Domina, and doing whatever you asked? It was too much.”

From behind us, Jupiter’s voice called out, “You will not make it out of here alive either, if you kill them.”

Troll giggled. “Do you truly think I care? I’m killing them first, then I’m turning this crossbow on everyone else until-”

A grey oval appeared beside Troll and a figure stepped out, Artifact sword flashing as the blade sheared upward. The crossbow exploded into black shards with the sound of shattering glass. Troll screamed as one of his hands went with them. Greywolf checked his follow-through as Troll dropped to his knees and pressed the stump against his belly, stepping back with his katana on high guard, ready to swing again.

Dancer kept his hand locked onto my shoulder as we warily approached Troll. No it’s… “Cotus, I remember your name. It’s Cotus.”

He glared up at me. “For all the good it’s going to do you. Once I’ve healed, I’m going to follow you both to Konstanopolis, wait until you feel safe, then murder you both as you lay together.”

Anger flared up inside me. “You fukin bastard. That’s what all this is about. You’re jealous.”

Raw hatred made his face resemble a real troll’s. “Always too high and mighty for someone like me, weren’t you?. Enjoy it while you can, bitch goddess, because the day’s gonna come when all your happiness burns away, leaving only the taste of ashes.” He tapped his leather armor lightly with his remaining fist. “I got scores to settle.”

“And so do I!” Dancer ripped the bone handled knife from Greywolf’s sheathe and leapt at Cotus, who’s eyes went wide in horror as the shiny black blade slashed his throat. Blood sprayed as Cotus’ hand went to his windpipe. Dancer… Io, his name’s Io, brandished the knife over him. “Do you know how much I’ve dreamed of doing this? All the insults of yours I’ve endured, all the times you almost ruined things for Az, everything… it’s like you’ve been a giant millstone around our necks.”

“More like a tumor.” Greywolf lowered his sword and held onto it with one hand, while extending the other. “Everyone knows that tumors have to be cut out, otherwise they’ll kill you.” Io nodded, stepping away from Cotus, whose face went corpse pale as the blood freely flowed between his fingers.

Then Cotus fell to the paving stones, still making gurgling sounds as Io reversed the knife and handed it to Greywolf, who shook the blood off the Artifact blade and slid it back into its sheathe. Io took a deep breath. “Apologies.”

Greywolf held up a hand to stop Io from going on. “You saved me from taking his head myself, satisfying as that would’ve been.” As I joined them, he gazed at me with a critical eye. “You look like shite.” I couldn’t help but laugh as I got lightheaded and staggered, Greywolf grabbing my arm before I fell. “Wotan’s blood, when’s the last time you’ve eaten?”

“Days,” Io answers.

“I will take care of her,” Titan rumbled as he strode over to us, Greywolf and Io turning me over to him as he wrapped me in an Ogre’s hug. “I am never leaving you ever again, no matter what happens.”

His words were the sweetest music I’d ever heard. “I’m holding you to that,” I told him, looking up into the ugliest face I’d ever known.”

“Not until she has been judged,” Jupiter’s voice said from behind us.

“Judged?” Titan kept his massive arms wrapped around me as I turned to face the Celestial. “I did everything the emperor wanted.”

“You were supposed to be our Reaver Knight,” Jupiter replied as he stops a short distance away from us. “Instead, you became a Knight of Shadow… and I understand why it happened,” he added, cutting off my protest, “as does the emperor. However, others will not. Therefore, I will cast my judgement of you upon the field of combat, one last time, before I leave Earth for good.”

I couldn’t believe I was hearing this. “You’re sending me back to the arena as a gladiator?”

I felt the dangerous rumble in Titan’s chest as Jupiter nodded. “Trial by combat against a monster of great evil. If you win, you will be held blameless, and no one will be able to deny you the blessings the emperor promised you.”

Titan rumbled, “And if she loses?”

Jupiter spread his hands in an apologetic gesture.