Wysper - Ghostdog

Greywolf's father reminds me of a Pict from the north of Britannia, with a face craggy and weather-worn as the northern mountains, and silver-grey hair tangled and shadowed as their forests.

Yet what truly makes him seem a Pict is the way he stands before a raging goddess out of legend, and shows no trace of fear. If anything, he looks exasperated. "Asena," his voice rough as gravel, "how could I let die the truest friend I've ever had? And besides, who else would've given me the son I've always wanted? Now, will you please stop all this nonsense and embrace your old friend."

Asena throws her almost furry arms around him and pulls him in, giving him a hug that would have crushed my bones despite the cracked and pitted Artifact armor he wears, the leather satchel at his side bouncing as she lifts him up. Yet he not only endures it, but gives her back a fierce hug of his own, the two of them locked in a tight embrace as Titan's voice behind us rumbles, "Ghostdog, is all well?"

They let go of each other and Ghostdog raises his eyebrows at Asena, who hangs her head. "I yield, Titan. My word of honor to never hurt the girl or interfere with their betrothal." She looks up. "If Khan Khingla wants me to leave, I will."

"If I let you remain here," the Great Khan's voice calls out from behind us, "will you let your son become Avitohol's Bloodguard, as my son wants?"

Asena's expression turns indecisive as she hesitates, and Titan says, "The next ritual in declaring Timur dead are the funeral games. I know you are still upset with me for allowing you to be drugged, so with the Great Khan's permission I will propose a wager: a fight between us with blunted weapons. The terms shall be-"

"I'll set the terms," Asena growls, rising to her feet. "If I win, Greywolf and his betrothed come with me, away from all the madness I see coming."

Titan folds his massive arms over his armored chest. "And if I win?"

Asena looks past him. "Khan Khingla, if Titan wins, then I shall swear fealty to your son, Avitohol, as his Bloodguard and teacher, in Greywolf's place. I've fought battles from one end of the known world to the other for several thousand years, and while Titan's the better strategist, no one can beat me in teaching fighting skills." She motions towards Greywolf. "My son remains free to fight at his side, if he wants, but able to walk away if he decides to." She folds her arms in echo of Titan's. "So, what say you?"

Glancing back, the Great Khan is standing on top of the mound with Prince Avitohol and Prince Varsena beside him, along with the Tartaros warrior Kula. More Tartaros warriors stand ready behind him, as do spearmen with white shields, while off to one side stands the wolfish Lycaon, Castor, along with the Daemo Shadow-walker and a woman warrior with orange-red hair. More Tartaros warriors stand behind them.

The Great Khan frowns. "Titan, do you believe you can win this wager?"

"Without a doubt," Titan rumbles, "or else I would not have offered it."

"Then I will trust your judgment and accept the wager."

Asena's eyes narrow. "You seem pretty sure of yourself. You know I'm the better fighter."

"And I always fight better when there is more at stake," Titan replies.

"Great Khan," the flame-haired woman calls out, "since we are speaking of the games, the Daemo with me has a message from Timur, while I have a message from Khan Huldin. May we approach?"

"Granted," he calls back. The blue glowing image of Osiris floats out from behind the warriors, and the Great Khan says, "Lord Osiris, is this the courier you spoke of?"

The image is substantially faded from its previous intensity. "He is. Ghostdog, let Titan bring the satchel with the betrothal agreement over her so you may spend more time with your son, before you leave."

"Leave?" The happy expression on Greywolf's face shatters. "But you just got here."

Ghostdog takes the satchel and gives it to Titan, who takes it up the mound to where the Great Khan and the others are waiting, as Ghostdog turns and embraces his son. Greywolf hugs him back with a grip as fierce as Asena's. They finally let go, and Ghostdog says, "I wish I could stay longer, but I need to walk the Shadowlands to Britannia and see just how bad things are."

At the mention of my homeland, Ghostdog turns towards me. "Wysper, apologies for my lack of manners in mentioning what must be a touchy subject."

"No apologies needed," I reply, shaking my head. "Yet I am concerned over the welfare of my people. Will you return soon?"

"As soon as I gather everything Osiris needs to decide what to do, if anything, and whether or not to offer aid." He gives me a sly wink. "Fortunately, I was able to steal one of those image summoning gems off of the new head priestess of Osiris in Bukhara, so I can return here the moment I'm finished and give him my report without trudging all the way to to Aegyptus."

Asena gives him an amused snort. "Does Osiris know?"

"It must've slipped my mind," he replies with another wink, "but I'm sure he'll figure it out once I'm back here."

The others chuckle, but my face remains serious as I ask, "Syr, will he give my people aid if the situation is dire?"

Ghostdog turns and gives me a warm smile. "First thing, it's Ghostdog or papa, since you're part of the family now and I know your own father is dead." I gape at him a moment in shock before closing my mouth, and he says, "Apologies again. Pan told me all about you the last time I visited... about a year ago, I believe, and everything that happened."

Shock upon shock! "You know the god Pan?"

Ghostdog cocks his head as he regards me for a moment. "All of the Oldenbloods remaining on Earth fought with me during the War of the Princes, and most of us are old friends."

"Not Wotan, I hope," Asena growls.

"Not after the way he treated you," Ghostdog says, "and there are a few others who have lost their way. Anyway," his gaze returning to me, "while the raid on Pan's temple was a tragedy, it shocked the Brittani tribes out of their complacency, and the Picts as well. All the tribes quit bickering and formed a confederation, which then formally allied with the Pictish tribes to the north."

I gasp again. "The Picts... is this true?"

Ghostdog shrugs. "It was a year or so ago. Oh, the alliance might have broken down, yet I don't think so. Pan gave up to the Picts some of the Blood oats he'd preserved and stored away, and in return they allowed the Iceni to build forts along the southern border of Pictland, as well as establish the new temple well up in the highlands. Pan told me there's been a cross-cultural mixing like never before, and while the Brittani aren't strong enough to get rid of the Gaul's fiefdoms on the southern edge of the island, they've set up watchtowers and were letting the Picts raid along the borders."

"So the Kingdom of the Gauls cannot accuse the Brittani of violating their treaties."

"Exactly." Ghostdog stops and gives me a gentle smile. "Your kidnapping by the Sasnayams has likely saved the Brittani people from extinction."

I have begun to tremble and cannot stop. "Will anyone believe that if I ever return? The druids taught us that to bind ourselves to strange gods was a mortal, unforgivable sin-"

"Heimdall's hairy chestnuts," Asena says with a snort, cutting me off. "I wrote the Code of the Oldenbloods with Odin, while he was still alive, which the others adapted when they began establishing realms of their own, and it states specifically that it's binding yourself willingly that's an offense." She snorts again. "Trust humans to bend the rules to suit their own needs."

"That's one reason they're doing so well compared to the other races," Ghostdog replies, looking at me. "I'm assuming you didn't go willingly?"

I nod. "Thalia drugged Myra and myself so the rest of the temple would be spared, and I did not realize what had happened until waking up in Tesiphon." I rub tears away with the heels of my hands. "I tried to resist-"

Asena snorts again. "Against Muzen? Girl, you never stood a chance... and if the druids ever try bringing charges against you, I'll rewrite the Code again using their entrails as ink."

Rewrite... surely she cannot be serious, can she? Ghostdog smiles at the look on my face. "While that might be entertaining to watch, it won't be necessary. Pan has vowed vengeance against those who raided the temple, specifically Muzen, but he told me himself that you and Myra and Thalia are considered to be blameless. You can return to Britannia someday with a clear conscience and an eager heart."

Blameless... tears like water from stone flow down my face, and Greywolf is there, his arms around me as I cling to him and bury my face on his chest. A weight upon my soul I never realized existed falls free and does not return.

A cloak is thrown over both of us, and I raise my head to see the Lycaon Castor giving us both a wolfish smile. "I think you dropped this."

Greywolf gives him back a boyish grin as Prince Varsena joins us as well. "During your raid, one of the Chosen found the Artifact Muzen used to speak with the crowds, and it seems to work for anyone. So the Great Khan is going to use it, and asked me to translate."

Greywolf says, "Is he upset over what the women did?"

Prince Varsena grimaces. "You have no idea.

The clearing of a man's throat echoes across the torchlit area and the darkness beyond, startling the murmuring crowd into silence. Greywolf lets me go enough so we can both watch as the Great Khan begins to speak, and after a moment, Prince Varsena translates into Greco-Roma. "People of the Eternal Sky, I am ashamed, deeply ashamed, of your attempt to interfere with a ritual older than the first of our ancestors, and to be honest, shocked as well. Not only did your attempt to use women to stop the betrothal go against the command of the Khan of khans, but all of you have acted against the will of Tengri himself."

The Great Khan holds the silence a moment as he looks around. "Tengri himself," Prince Varsena translates, "anointed Avitohol to become my heir in place of Timur, and this morning I saw the wisdom of Tengri first hand. It is true that the Sasnayams planned to use necromancy to raise an army of the dead against us, and that Timur turned the tables upon them by unleashing that army on the heart-eaters. It was the correct thing to do and I find no fault."

He pauses a moment. "But now, Timur plans to turn that army to his own purposes, led by the outlander he took on as his Bloodguard, and unleash it upon the lands to the south and west. In Bukhara, he will restore the worship of false gods, corrupting the ancient traditions of our people. But worst of all, he plans the breakup of the People, luring our warriors to his side with promises of glory and plunder. For this reason I am declaring him dead to us."

An undercurrent of dark muttering sweeps through the crowd, and the Great Khan holds up his hands for quiet. "Timur sent me his pet Daemo Shadow-walker to give me a message," he says, lowering his arms again. "Timur has not only accepted my decision, but shall show his goodwill by hosting his own funeral games, as per tradition, on our side of the river. Not only have I agreed, but to show my good faith I shall allow him and his minions to attend both the games, and the ritual burning of the body in effigy at sundown." He holds up a ceramic vial. "The Shadow Fae who I dismissed also sent a potion for my elderly Warghorse, to restore his lost youth just long enough so I can participate in the khan's race, as is also traditional."

The Great Khan holds the silence again until only the wind's voice can be heard. "Once Timur has been officially, and irrevocably, declared dead, the khans of the People will have a choice to make for their clans and tribes. Any khan who decides to leave will not be stopped, though since they are binding themselves to a dead man, they and their people will be considered as dead to us as well. However, know this: if the People of the Eternal Sky lose too many warriors to the dead, I will accept the offer of Khan Huldin to have the clan of the Black Dragon become a part of the People."

Angry shouts and talk erupts among the crowd, until the Great Khan roars a word in their harsh language. They subside into a sullen silence, and Prince Varsena takes up translating his words again. "You leave me no choice. Regardless of what your khans choose, we will remain here until the snow abates and the earth wakes again from its cold sleep. When the Keeper of the Spirits tells me the time is right, the People of the Eternal Sky will head east towards Xian, until Tengri gives us a sign for the place where our new, permanent home will be built. Tengri demands the People choose either the path of life as a settled people, or the path of death and destruction, so think long, and think hard, about which path you want your khan to take. Remain with me or cross the river and join Timur."

Again, he holds the silence as he raises his arms to the sky. "In the quiet of your tents tonight, listen for Tengri's voice in your hearts, and follow where he tells you to go. For Tengri will judge us all in the end." The Great Khan lowers his arms.

Then he rips the Artifact from his ear, hurls it onto the grassy mound, and storms off, the Tartaros warriors around him and the spearmen following. Titan catches up to the Great Khan and lowers his head to speak as he matches the man's stride. Prince Varsena moves to follow. "Join us in the Great Khan's tent for the celebration feast," he says over his shoulder, "but take your time. My father needs time of his own to master his anger."

"As well as his hurt," Ghostdog replies.

Prince Varsena stops and regards Greywolf's father. "I had not thought of that."

Ghostdog motions towards the departing group. "I'd wager silver for gold that Titan has. Don't worry, we'll take our time strolling over there, because I want to spend time with my son," putting one arm around Greywolf and the other around me, "and my new daughter." Prince Varsena hurries away as Ghostdog gives me a wink. "It's a lucky thing the betrothal contract makes you family, or else I'd be flirting with you outrageously." Heat rises to my cheeks, and he glances at his son. "Look, she's even more beautiful when she blushes."

Greywolf looks torn between laughter and outrage. "Papa!"

Ghostdog laughs as Asena puts her long arms around all of us. "You're incorrigible, do you know that?" Ghostdog only laughs again and Asena smiles as she looks at me. "Greywolf did the right thing for once," Asena giving me a wink of her own as Greywolf sputters. "Girl," she begins, but then says, "No, not girl. Wysper, welcome to the family." Asena's hand gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze and I realize a profound truth.

For the first time in my life I truly have a family.