Greywolf-Ishi and Karl

She leans against the doorway, all softness and curves, her gauzy clothing leaving exposed the mana-fire opal set in her belly button, while a blue mana stone set in a silver spiral winks in the lobe of one ear. "You must be Ishi."

Ishi's smile is all white teeth like square pearls. "And you must be Greywolf. Is it true you're an Oldenblood?"

I blink. "A what?"

"Oldenblood. Those whose mana flows like a torrent, and not a trickle like it does for everyone else."

Hmm, must be another name for a Celestial like Asena. "I'm actually a half-blood, but I can recharge your mana stones to full strength in a thrice, if you need me to." She nods eagerly, and I wade over to the other side. "In return, can you give me a discount on my laundry?"

Ishi looks at me like I'm an idiot. "Recharge my stones and I'll do your laundry for free until you leave Bukhara. You've no idea what the temples charge us." She kneels on the smooth stones beside the pool, but as my hands come out of the water, she holds out her own in warning. "No offense, but if your hand starts to wander, I can yell for my manikin to aid me."

I snort. "Just yell for Asena, and she'll bounce me off the wall a couple times before making me apologize."

Ishi's eyes go wide. "The Oldenblood in the private room's your mother?"

"And she never lets me forget it, either." I cup my hand over her belly and keep it there as she pulls the spiral earring out of her earlobe and sets it onto my palm. Recharging mana stones never takes long, even stones as depleted as these, and midway through Ishi closes her eyes as her belly grows warm. "Almost there... okay, we're done."

She opens her eyes as I remove my hand from the softness of her light brown skin. "Amazing," Ishi says as she takes the spiral earring and sets it back in her earlobe, the blue mana stone blazing as intense as the fire stone in her belly. "The temple never charges them this full."

"They do it on purpose to control you," a deep male voice says from the doorway.

Ishi's head whips back to look over her shoulder. "Karl, you startled me." Ishi gets to her feet and turns around as a tall man in ring mail armor walks into the bathhouse. He's blond with his long hair in a braid down his back, his chin shaven clean but with a long mustache hanging down on either side of his mouth. There's a sword in a scabbard strapped to his back, and he's holding a child, wrapped in a small robe, in his arms. Only her delicate, pale white face's visible under the hood. Ishi takes a deep breath. "Do you have need of the bathhouse?"

"Not this trip, I'm afraid," he replies with a note of regret in his voice. "Greywolf, I spoke briefly with Asena and she told me you were out here. I'm known as Karl the Outlander, mercenary recruiter for the White Horde, and this little bundle of joy in my arms is named Princess."

"He calls me that to make fun of me," she replies in a strange, high pitched voice.

I can't help but grin as I touch my heart in a gesture of respect. "Greywolf, son of Ghostdog. Did Asena mention what she needs?"

"She did, and this will help us immensely. Several children in the camp have gone missing, and outriders found troll markings leading up into the hills. I need permission to let you both enter our lands, but when the Great Khan agrees, I'll ask our two Lycaon mercenaries to help track the creatures."

My eyes go wide. "You have Lycaons as mercenaries?"

Ishi asks, "What are those?"

"Greek wolves the size of ponies," Karl answers. "Centuries ago a Greek king offended Zeus, and the... god, changed the king and his sons to enormous wolves. They kept their intelligence and human natures, though, which includes a preference for mating with human women, but while daughters are born human, males are always born Lycaon. Anyway, they're both bored, and Asena told me she'd be happy to have them along to help you both hunt."

A load of worry slips off my shoulders. "Karl, you don't know how much I appreciate this." My stomach rumbles, reminding me we're way past the midday meal we skipped pushing to get to Bukhara. "Ishi, I think I'm about done here."

"On the shelf where the basket was you'll find a cloth you can use to dry off." A smile creeps over her face. "If you want, I can dry your hair and comb it out for you, on the house."

As I nod and smile back, Karl chuckles. "Ishi, you should liberate a clove-lemon from the kitchen and give it to him."

Ishi's hands go to her wide hips. "I'm a married woman with a little girl at home."

"Karl's right," Princess says, her delicate face shadowed under the hood. "I listen when the warriors talk, and someday they will conquer Bukhara and make slaves out of the ones left alive."

The mage shudders. "My husband's a captain of the temple district's guards, and he claims the White Horde will never get across the river with enough strength to assault us. Yet I remember what happened in Bukhara's eastern province. I can only hope the temples and the royal governor speak the truth when they tell us the White Horde only desires peace."

"The Great Khan desires peace," Karl says, "but he's an old man tired of fighting. He's just outlived another wife, but his next one will be arranging his body on the funeral pyre sooner rather later." He shrugs. "Personally, I'd give him the clove-lemon."

"Apologies, but could someone explain what you're all talking about?"

Ishi is all dimples as she smiles my way. "You'll see. Your highness," Ishi says as she turns towards Princess and dips into a curtsy, "with your permission?"

From within the robe emerges a child's stick thin hand, white as the horns on a tricorn horse, which gives Ishi a dismissive wave. Ishi laughs and strides away as Karl glances down at the child in his arms. "You know she's making fun of you."

The almost skeletal arm disappears back into the robe. "I like her. Besides, her temple guard captain's tarnishing her honor by sleeping with other women, and she's trying to keep up a brave front. Now, are you done keeping Greywolf from getting dressed? I want to go back inside."

Karl holds up a hand with the back of his hand towards me, the customary way of saying goodbye, and I give him the same. As he leaves, he says to the bundle in his arms. "Does her highness require anything else?"

"Don't you start." Karl laughs and heads for the back door.

What a strange child... I wonder if it's his, or where her mother might be? Best not to ask, I think. Climbing out of the pool, I dry off, then put on a pair of black trousers from the Eastern empire and a dark red tunic with Celtic knot embroidery on the hem, and the V neckline. The only thing of papa's I've got left.

I'm kneeling beside the pool, tucking my trouser cuffs into my leather boots, as Ishi walks through the doorway carrying a wooden comb and a large lemon with brown spikes coming out of it. I begin to rise but she waves me back down. "It's easier if I don't have to stand on my tip-toes."

I settle back down as she lays the lemon on the stones and mutters a few words, the mana-fire opal in her belly beginning to glow again as she cups her left hand. Warm air starts to blow out from her palm, and Ishi holds it up to my scalp as she combs my hair with her right. I close my eyes while she continues. "Your mother's fur... hair, is dark, but yours is all silver-grey, which I'm sure is because you're one of the Celts. I'm curious, though: how much of you came from your mother?"

I open my eyes as I shrug. "I've got her senses and toughness, which is a good thing considering the scraps we've been in. I'm also pretty much immune to disease. Not sure how much bigger I'll get, since I'm still growing, but-"

"You're still growing?" I nod and she shakes her head in disbelief. "But you're a young man, not a child."

"Don't tell Asena that or you'll get an earful. I'm twenty-five in Human years, but in Celestial, what you call Oldenblood, I'm a lot less."

Ishi makes a face like she still finds my age hard to believe, but doesn't comment, working on my hair until it's dry. She closes her left hand into a fist and the warm air stops. "There, all done... and you do look more wolfish with your hair blown back."

I smile up at her as I pick up the lemon. "So what about this?"

"Pull a clove out of the lemon and chew it up." This is odd, but I'll play along and do so, the taste of clove strong in my mouth as she takes a deep breath. "Now, tradition demands that you kiss me."

I climb to my feet and open my arms. "I'm beginning to like Bukhara." I bend down and my mouth meets hers in a kiss, our tongues sliding together like old friends.

When we finally pull apart, her face is flushed. "I'm a loyal wife who doesn't need a reputation any worse than the one I've got." Huh? I give her a puzzled look and she says, "Never mind. Tradition now demands that you have to find another woman to give the lemon to and kiss her."

"Can't I just give it back to you?"

"Best that you don't," she replies with a sigh, "but there's plenty of willing women in Bukhara. Show them the lemon, and if they smile at you, it means they're interested."

"Then I'll go find one, then." I bow to her as if I'm a nobleman, making her smile as she curtsies back. Then she heads for a different door, probably leading into the kitchen, as I stride towards the back door, go into the hall, and try the door to our room. Locked. No one else's in the hall, so I open a gateway and step into the Shadowlands.

Color bleeds away from the world until it becomes grey. I do a complete circle, making sure I haven't stumbled upon a Shadow creature by accident, but nothing is moving, and I stop in front of the door. Stone and earth remain solid and immovable in the Shadowlands, but everything else that exists in the real world, exists here as its shadow, the door appearing dark and fully detailed as if an illusion. It ripples as I walk through it into our room and open a gateway back. It forms, and I reenter the real world again.

The grey light of the Shadowlands becomes darkness. Asena must have put out the lamp before moving into the private room, but I stumble around until I feel my pack, and find my sword. It's peace-bound, with leather cords holding it in place inside the scabbard, but I always feel naked if I don't have it with me. I detach it from the pack and retrace my steps back through the locked door. Still no one in the hall. Good. Returning to the real world, I strap the sword to my back and head for the private room.

Asena's sitting cross-legged in front of a low table with Karl and Princess beside her, Porthos across the table, and a couple of the mercenaries from the caravan sitting beside him. Everyone except the child is drinking red wine from ceramic wine cups as I sit on the end between Porthos and Asena. She's ordered food but seems to be ignoring it, so I grab a wooden spoon and dig into the lentils, curried chicken, and mystery stew as Porthos goes into a long discussion of Bukhara and its history. Double yawn.

In short order I've finished off the bowls and the mug of well watered beer she's hardly touched. Wiping my mouth on a rag beside the mug, I get to my feet. Asena looks up at me. "Where are you going?"

I pick up the lemon and hold it out. "Finding out more about local customs, as you told me I should start doing."

Porthos and Karl both chuckle as Asena holds out her hand. "Give me the sword."

"Asena-"

"The sword. You won't need it here, and you'll think twice before causing any mischief." Meaning I know better than to spend much time in the Shadowlands unarmed. With a sigh, I unstrap the scabbarded sword from my back and place it on the black palm of her clawed hand. She sets it on the floor beside her. "Don't be gone too long."

Enough is enough. "Asena, you've got to let me off the leash someday."

"After I'm dead," she replies before taking a long drink off her wine cup. "Then you can have all the freedom you want." There's no way I can answer that without starting a fight, so I spin on my heel, push through the beaded curtain, and slam the door on my way outside.

Then I slow down and take a deep breath. C'mon, you're not going to let her ruin your night again, so remember what papa taught you and let the anger go. I follow his advice, cooling down again as I continue down the alley to the main road. The sun's an orange ball going down behind the pyramids rising above the walls of the Temple District, which is not the way I want to go. So I head right.

The crowds gather me up and sweep me along with them as if I were a leaf on the wind, the roads lined with more red brick buildings with wooden stalls out front. I'm at least a head taller than everyone else, so it's easy to see the plaza off to the left of the road, with a stone platform rising above the crowd. People in robes seem to be distributing something; another custom, perhaps? I owe it to Asena to investigate and report back. In my mind I can hear her derisive snort as I weave my way through the crowd and head straight towards the platform.