Greywolf - The Great Khan

The guard goes in first and holds open the inner flap: a woven carpet, made with intricate designs and rich colors. Karl goes in first, handing his steel sword to a second guard standing just inside. Asena unbuckles her heavy steel Greatsword and hands it to him as I do the same with my Artifact katana, then pull my Artifact dagger with its elk horn hilt, out of my belt as well. The second guard begins setting all our weapons onto a wooden rack as the first guard waves us on.

Light shines down from the oil lamps suspended from the wooden supports holding the tent up, the air smelling of almond oil as I look around. More brightly colored carpets line the tent walls, probably more for warmth than decoration, and still more carpets are draped over the large wooden chests set along the sides in a haphazard fashion. In one spot there's a rack of battered, painted shields, each with a different design on the front, set up like a shrine... defeated enemies, maybe? Must be, because some of the shields have elephants on them.

Straight in front of us, a well worn, dark red carpet runs through the center of the tent. It's several feet wide, and ends not far from the opposite side with an elevated seat completely covered in carpets and cushions. Behind what must be the throne is a huge banner of a white boar, with long tusks and blood red hooves, running alone on a field of green. At least twenty or more wide cushions line the edges of the carpet near the throne, which itself is guarded by four Tartaros warriors in leather and steel.

An old man sitting on the throne watches us approach. "Great Khan," Karl says as he gets close and bows, "I heard your summons and came as quickly as I could."

Khan Khingla has black hair gone mostly to grey, his beard and drooping mustache almost white. His face draws a leathery map of a hard life lived under the sun. But instead of armor, as I'd expected him to wear, he's got on a long blue tunic extending down past his knees, with a wide band of swirling embroidery running along his collar, then across his chest like a baldric, and more on the hems of his sleeves. He motions at the third cushion down from him. "Karl the Outlander, sit close so you and your companion can advise me as I speak with our guests." He looks beyond the mercenary at us, as Karl bows again with his fist to his chest and gets Princess settled. "For the three of you have been granted guest-right, which holds until I decide otherwise. I know Titan and Asena from the stories told around the fires by the shaman elders, and while I do not know Greywolf, the Shadow Fae Lys has taken his measure and shall provide me good counsel."

The Shadow Fae? My eyes go wide as Princess stands up and lets her robes fall to the floor. She's a mirror image of the Winter Fae, Yrg, even down to the black leather clothing. But where Yrg's skin is obsidian black, Lys' skin is white as fresh fallen snow, her hair black and shiny as if each strand had been transmuted into Artifact. She flashes us a grin like glittering shards of black ice. "I told you Karl called me Princess to make fun of me."

Titan's giving Lys a dark look as she sits down next to Karl. "Great Khan, you have a necromancer in your court, a poisoner who can kill with a touch, known to have caused the dead to rise up and fight for her in times past."

The Great Khan regards Titan for a moment. "I have never seen Lys animate the dead. But I watched her speak to the corpse of a murdered man, who named his killer... the real killer and not the man's wife, as everyone suspected after the killer cast blame upon her. When the corpse pointed at the murderer before sinking back into death, the man was so unnerved that he confessed the deed to all of us without the need for torture."

The Great Khan shifts on his throne. "Let me tell you more. I have never watched her poison another or kill with a touch, yet Lys brewed a potion for my wife that took away the crushing pain of her illness, and allowed her to die a dignified death, as befits the wife of a Khan. Lys also killed a large growth on one of my daughters, which the healers were then able to cut away without the risk of my daughter bleeding to death, and has done similar things for other members of the noble families. Lys also gives me good advice without ever scheming to advance herself over others." He regards Titan again. "So tell me, noble Ogri, of a good reason why I should send this Fae of the Shadows away from my court?"

"That's easy," Asena growls before Titan can speak. "Lys wants Yrg's head on the end of a spear and doesn't care who gets killed while she's doing it."

"I want her heart, actually," Lys says, "so I can extract its mana and use it however the Great Khan sees fit. Asena, I learned patience as a captive of the Etruscans, and while I admit I want revenge for what was done to me, it shall be done with all the coldness of a dead man's heart."

"What if Yrg escapes?" Titan asks. "Would you abandon the raid to go after her and make your revenge complete?"

"If her escaping gave Yrg time to gather allies and attack the Great Khan, then yes I would. This raid will succeed or fail whether I am part of it or not, but to keep Yrg from causing chaos, you need me along. Believe it or not, I am a servant of the Great Khan and nothing more."

"If the Great Khan asked you to raise an army of the dead to fight for him, would you do it?"

Lys gives him a glittering black smile. "I obey the Great Khan in all things."

"Noble Ogri," Khan Khingla says, "you have touched upon one of my greatest fears. Others in the court have hinted that I could put Lys to much better use than I have, and while I hold firm to the teachings of the shaman, my youngest son and heir could well be led astray. This is the reason I asked you here, to become the teacher of young Avitohol, not only in the art of war but in the noble virtues as well. With your help, Avitohol shall forge the nomadic People of the Eternal Sky into a kingdom, extending from the lands of Indus to the satrapies of the Sasnayam empire. He shall raise crops instead of razing towns, and build cities instead of burning them to the ground. He will usher in a golden age for the People and his name shall be remembered."

Titan seems taken aback. "Does your son know of your desire?"

The Great Khan chuckles. "Far more than he cares to. Avitohol is young, in love with the legends and the stories of wars long past, told around the fires at night. He wants to be a warrior like his father and all the fathers before him. That is why I am asking you to my court, to forge the iron of my son into steel, and polish it into mirror brightness for all the world to see."

It's hard to read an Ogri's expression, but I don't think he was expecting this at all. "If I join your court, Great Khan, then you must expect blunt questions when we are speaking in private. I have spoken with your eldest son, Prince Timur, and am not sure that he will accept his younger brother as his Khan."

"If Timur wishes to remain a member of the White Boar tribe," Khan Khingla says in a sharp voice, "then he will accept whoever Tengri chooses as Khan of Khans. However," his voice becoming more normal, "I am aware of the problem. To that end, I am considering whether or not to make him Battle Commander over the army, as would be traditional, or to give it to another." He motions to the cushions beside Karl. "Titan, will you sit at my right and stay when the others here leave, so we may discuss my offer."

"There will be much to discuss," Titan replies in his deep bass voice, "but I will gladly sit beside you."

Titan moves two cushions together and sits as Khan Khingla faces forward again. "Noble Asena-"

She holds up her hand to stop him. "Me and Greywolf are here to kill your troll, nothing else. If you want proof, I'll bring its head back and stick it on a spear next to the bridge, but once we leave this camp we're not coming back."

Khan Khingla frowns. "The remains of the children it killed shall be sufficient, if any can be found intact. Asena, the legends I have heard about you describe your love of battle, and the ferocity of your attacks, I fail to understand your reluctance. Surely you cannot be afraid of the priest-sorcerer Muzen?"

"I fear nothing," she growls. The Khan's guards clap their hands to their weapon hilts and keep them there as she motions towards me. "My son did a foolish thing. Because of that, Muzen became aware of his existence, and now the bastard will do everything in his power to make Greywolf his servant."

"Because he is a Shadow-walker."

Asena shakes her head. "Because he's a Shadow-walker born to an Oldenblood."

"No," Titan rumbles, "Asena is worried because he is the son of Ghostdog. Karl, when Greywolf touched the grey tree and entered the Shadowlands, did you see the wolf shaped halo that formed around him?"

Karl nods. "Shadow-walkers are rare, but in the stories told about them I've never heard of a halo forming around one."

"There is only one story," Lys says, "written in the books my race keeps in their great library, that tells of a halo forming around a Shadow-walker. During the war of the Celestials against the Daemo Princes, a hybrid Celestial-Daemo dragon was wreaking havoc on both sides, though mostly on the Daemo, and a truce was called to deal with the creature. To that end, the last Daemo Prince fought alongside several Ogri, three Oldenblood, and a Shadow-walker with the ability to create Shadow creatures and bring them into the real world. According to the story, the halo around him would change into whatever creature he thought of the moment it formed."

I've never heard this story before. "Did they slay the dragon?"

Asena cuffs me just hard enough to make it sting. "The dragon died, the prince died, and so did one of the Oldenblood, though the other two were only wounded. Now don't speak unless someone asks you a question."

She's ignoring the scowl I'm giving her as the Great Khan says, "Greyywolf, I have one. If you wanted to, could you form what I assume would be a Shadow creature in the shape of a Wolf?"

"I could, Great Khan. I mean, it's instinct, like forming a gateway into the Shadowlands, but if I create one I can't control it. It just keeps killing whatever it sees until it's destroyed."

"According to the story," Lys says, "the Daemo Prince and a Shadow creature called a Night Hag finally killed the dragon, but then the Night Hag turned on the prince and finished him off before the Shadow-walker killed the creature. I always wondered why the Celestials did nothing to help."

"Because they were bleeding like stuck pigs while trying to help their dying friend," Asena snaps. "Besides, they trusted the Shadow-walker to take care of the creature after the dragon was dead."

"If one is to travel the Shadowlands, trusting the Shadow-walker is essential." Lys turns towards the throne. "Great Khan, the Chaldean Daemo Shadow-walker did not do well when she and Greywolf practiced opening and closing a large gate. Might I suggest-"

"What part of no aren't you getting?" Asena snarls at her. "If I've got to tell you one more time-"

Lys shoots to her feet. "Will you let me finish, or do you want to keep acting like a Warghorse in heat? What I was going to suggest is having your son spend the night with the Daemo, so his seed can strengthen her, while the small amount of blood she needs to live can be met as well." Lys looks at me. "Have you ever done this with a Daemo before?"

I can't help but snort. "Try every time we guard a caravan with a female Daemo merchant. They pay Asena gold to have me sleep-"

"Not another word out of you," she snarls at me, raising her hand again. I glare up at her, not speaking, but not backing down either. After a moment she lowers her hand. "Fine. We stay the night, Greywolf services your Shadow-walker Daemo, and in the morning we go after your troll. Good enough?"

Khan Khingla leans forward on his throne. "I would hear it from his own lips. Greywolf, are you willing to undertake this service for my people of your own free will?"

I draw myself up. "Great Khan, it would be my pleasure..." Shite, you're an idiot. "Apologies, that didn't come out right."

"Truly it's a hard task we've thrust upon you," Karl intones with a twinkle in his eye. "Yet I'm sure you'll rise to the challenge."

The Great Khan cracks a smile as Titan chuckles, while Asena rolls her eyes. Lys looks at Karl like he's an idiot. "I would say you have turnips for brains, except that would be insulting turnips."

Karl laughs as the tension around us drops. "Asena, if it's any consolation, I've got a small cask of Western empire red wine from Syracusae I'm willing to broach."

Asena's ears literally perk up. "Syracusae? Are you certain?"

"Unless Porthos cheated me, and he knows better than to do so." Karl rises to his feet. "Great Khan, permission to show Asena and Greywolf to the guest tent before finding us something to eat," glancing at Asena, "and drink."

Khan Khingla frowns. "Perhaps we should assign two tents, given the circumstances."

Asena's beginning to scowl. "Great Khan, there's no need," I tell him. "As long as Fox doesn't mind, I'm used to other people watching."

The Great Khan looks taken aback, and Titan's reminding me of a storm cloud ready to cover the sun. "Watching, eh? Tell me Asena, how much extra do the human merchants pay for the show?"

Why does he seem upset? "None of your business," Asena growls at him as she grabs me by the arm. "From this moment on, I'm not letting Greywolf out of my sight, not for you or for anyone. Now, where's the guest tent?"

Karl bows with his fist to his chest. "With your permission?" The Great Khan waves his hand in dismissal and Asena marches me out of the tent as Karl hastens to follow.