Amazonia - The Enemy of my Enemy

The weather tonight's as dark and nasty as the soul of the person we're supposed to meet.

The ruined fortess of Pakhar was the perfect place to hide the Shamblers, since its massive walls were still intact, and its underground chambers accessible and spacious. We'd gotten them settled, with the minor Lich Cermet and a hundred of the best dead soldiers keeping watch, and were prepared to head back to Bukhara. Then word came that a meeting had been arranged with a certain someone, near Bukhara's border with the city-state of Amul, specifically asking for all of us to attend.

The rain's coming down in an icy mix crusting onto our cloaks, hissing like a legion of serpents as it hits the ground. Our mounts, both horses and Warghorses, shake off the crackling ice as Karl pounds on the Caravansary's stout wooden door.

At eye level, a small wooden window opens like a doll house door. "State your business," a gruff voice says.

"We're travelers in need of shelter," Karl replies to the hard bitten face peering out. "Myself, my daughter," Lys poking her head out from Karl's cloak for a moment before ducking back inside, "my new wife," Zanzabel the dancer turned priestess waving her hand, "and my guard."

I nod to the pair of dark eyes meeting mine. He nods back, then scans the darkness to either side of us. "We've room," the guard says with a grunt, "but I warn you: I've got stout lads with me if you're bandits, and more just a shout away."

"Considering what we left behind in Bukhara," Zanzabel says as both of the doors swing back, "the more the better."

"We've heard the rumors," the guard replies as we ride inside the Caravansary's gatehouse and out of the icy rain. Eight men in leather and chainmail peer out into the hissing darkness as I follow the others inside, and visibly relax as the doors slam shut again. I sweep the icy crust off my cloak and swing down off my horse as I look around.

The interior of the gatehouse is longer than the Dancing Direwolf, with a doorway to either side and a fortified guardhouse on the far end. The Caravansary is basically a square structure that's hollow on the inside, with the outline of wooden stables visible on the right inside the open area. Karl's Warghorse crouches down so he can easily get off as one of the guards helps Zanzabel off her horse. She smiles at him. "Gratitude. Who do I speak with concerning lodging and stabling for our animals?"

As the guard opens his mouth to reply, a dark haired woman in a linen dress hurries through the open doorway to our left. "Apologies for interrupting, but are you Mistress Zanzabel?" The priestess nods, and the woman, who's got an iron collar around her throat, says, "Your father has made arrangements for you and your party, including the mounts. I am to give the gate guards this," holding out a leather purse which one of the guards takes, "and escort all of you inside."

The guard opens the purse and grins. He lets a few silver coins fall into his palm, which he shows the others, then pours them back inside and draws the leather purse closed. "We'll get your beasts settled. Go on in."

Karl keeps his hand on the Warghorse's neck as it rises and lets a guard take its reins, then he lets go as the man leads the animal back into the hissing rain while others lead the horses. We turn and follow the woman, who's now walking back towards the doorway, and I murmur to Zanzabel, "Father?"

She gives me a sour look. "It was a game he played. However," she adds, exhaling sharply, "it is also a code. He is alone." Without elaborating, Zanzabel raises her chin and strides on ahead.

We're walking along a hallway of sorts, the air fragrant from the oil lamps set in recessed corners. To our right, we're passing by closed wooden doors, while to our left are open areas separated by walls, with a round table in the center of each one, and cushions set around it. Most of the tables have men in merchant robes sitting around them, eating and drinking, the low hum of their conversations stopping as we pass them by. After a moment, the low hum returns behind us.

The collared woman leads us all the way to the point where the hallway, following the Caravansary's high wall, bends sharply to the right. She stops in front of an alcove recessed deep into the corner. "Mistress Zanzabel," the woman bowing to the waist, "your father is here. There is wine on the table, and I will bring food within an hour, as per his instructions."

Zanzabel motions for her to leave. The woman rises from her bow and continues down the corridor as several oil lamps within the alcove light themselves without anyone's aid. Karl and I hesitate, but Zanzabel steps into the alcove with her hands on her hips. "Muzen."

In the light of the oil lamps, which sputter a moment before the flames grow steady, Muzen is sitting with his back against the stone wall, his bald head glinting in the lamplight. Instead of priestly robes, he's wearing those of a merchant. "Zanzabel", he says with a smile. "It is always a delight to see you."

"Apologies for not feeling the same, considering that I would be dead right now had Greywolf not saved us."

He raises one painted on eyebrow. "Considering that you were spying for Osiris, I feel I was justified. However," Muzen making an open gesture with his brown hands, "I truly am glad we both remain among the living."

Lys pokes her head out from beneath Karl's cloak, and as we reach the round table, leaps out of his arms towards its surface. The ceramic pitcher and wine cups don't even rattle as she lands. "Before we discuss the reason you asked us to meet you here, know that the minor Lich Cermet's listening to everything we say, and at the first hint of trouble will storm this building with our legion of the dead."

Muzen calmly grasps the pitcher and begins pouring wine into several cups. "The Shambler army, as I believe they are referred to now, that you have positioned at the ruined temple-fortress of Pakhar, in anticipation of the attack on Amul. That legion?"

Lys folds her arms over the leather chest armor she wears in a similar design to Karl's. "That knowledge is supposed to be a secret."

"It still is," Muzen replies as he finishes pouring wine into the last cup. "Understand, I plan to keep that knowledge close to my chest... for I want Timur to succeed and conquer the Sasnayams." He begins pushing wine cups across the table. "Sit, all of you, so we can speak like cultured folk." We exchange a look, then Zanzabel sits close to Muzen, with Karl beside her and me beside him. As Zanzabel settles in, he says to her, "I assume you have a way to communicate with Timur?"

Zanzabel reaches underneath her cloak and pulls out an amulet, which she sets down on the table. "Timur has its mate, which will allow him to see and hear as if he was actually with us."

Zanzabel reaches for her cup of wine and takes a sip as Muzen leans forward. "Ghost-glass? I thought all of it was lost after the Prince's war."

As Lys touches the amulet's blue mana stone beside the smoky glass dome, Karl says, "Evidently Yasataar had a cache of old Artifacts that have been passed along from wise woman to wise woman for centuries. So, now that Yasataar's gone, Varsena took possession of the cache, including the ghost-glass." As Timur's foot tall image appears over the amulet, Karl shrugs. "Varsena told me that ghost-glass is easy to work with."

Muzen raises one painted eyebrow as Timur does a complete circle, looking up and down at our surroundings, then focuses on the Celestial. "So you did make it after all. I'm surprised; I never thought I'd see you again after you vanished, and certainly not here."

Muzen makes an open gesture with his hand. "Nor did I expect the Khanate of the White Horde to fall into your lap the way it did." He raises his cup towards Timur's image. "Congratulations, and admiration as well... though I am sure you are upset over losing Greywolf to those Horde barbarians."

Timur's eyes narrow. "How do you know that?"

"My khan," I say, "he knows where the legion of the dead is waiting, and why we're here." I give Muzen a dark look. "I thought for sure I'd flushed all the Sasnayam rats out of Bukhara."

"You did," he replies. "My contact in Bukhara is loyal to Timur, yet also knows me well and what I am capable of." Muzen's gaze sharpens. "I want what you want, Khan Timur. I want the White Horde to bring the Sasnayam empire to its knees."

"Interesting." Timur regards Muzen as he strokes his beard. "Ishtar, through her Daemo priestess Sybil, was able to make a brief contact with the Celestial Acan-"

Muzen sniffs. "That drunkard."

"Ishtar says the same... and that he's gotten worse now, because Yun-Kax is no longer the chief twin-gods of the Sasnayam empire. Acan claims your temple's in trouble these days."

"Oh, it is far worse than that," Muzen says as he leans back. He's trying to keep his face expressionless, but there's a tightening around his eyes and a grim set to his mouth. "When the Gem of Return destroyed the head priest of Chaac's temple in Bukhara, it missed the head priestess of Ix-Chel. Before your Shadow Knight here," motioning at me with his hand, "chopped off her head, she sent a frantic message back to Tesiphon. She told Ix-Chel the plot against me had failed, and that I had thrown in with the White Horde against the empire."

I shake my head. "That's absurd."

Muzen gives me a sardonic smile. "Agreement, but Ix-Chel thought it the truth. The night of the raid, while you were hunting down Sasnayam spies, Ix-Chel went straight to Emperor Yazdegar and made a convincing case that I had turned against him." He stops to take a sip of wine. I do the same as he continues. "Sasnayam emperors have always gone in constant fear of betrayal, and since he was part of the original plot against me, to him it made perfect sense. So that night he ordered his soldiers to sack all of my temples in Tesiphon."

"The night of the long knives," Karl remarks.

Rage flashes across Muzen's face. "His soldiers pulled my priests from their beds and slaughtered them, raped my priestesses, and either slit their throats or turned them into temple whores. They stole everything they could lay their hands on, and the next day Ix-Chel and her priestesses swooped in and took all the Artifacts and scrolls of lore the soldiers had missed. Since that night, the emperor has issued an edict for the other provinces to destroy the rest of my temples throughout the empire, as well as offer a sizable reward for my head."

"What about the blood-corn?" Timur's image asks.

Muzen raises his wine cup towards Timur. "Gratitude for taking it, and I truly mean that. The blood-corn in your vaults was meant to replenish the stock my temple had in Tesiphon, which is almost depleted." Timur's eyebrows raise, and Muzen smiles. "Right now, you control the only significant supply of blood-corn."

Timur slowly nods as he strokes his beard. "The Sasnayams will have to go back to ripping out hearts on top of their temples and eating the mana nodes, like they did before you took over."

"Or cut them out in secret, midnight rituals, as they did before I introduced blood-corn and the practice stopped." Muzen leans forward again. "People in the empire, especially those in the satrapies, are beginning to murmur against the emperor, but especially against Chaac, who the emperor has returned to the supreme position of the religious hierarchy."

"Not Ix-Chel?"

Muzen shakes his head. "She is far too clever to desire such a position. She has faded back, letting Chaac take the blame for the instability starting to ripple through the empire, as he imposes his own harsh religious laws and nights of terror."

"Interesting indeed," Timur says. "A pity I cannot march my army now and take advantage of the situation."

"You already have one army within striking distance of Amul, with a general to lead them," motioning at me again, "and fully provisioned."

His hand moves to indicate Lys as Timur frowns. "Amul will have to be taken by siege, and the Shamblers are little better than the manikins the mages here construct to do simple tasks. Also, if anything happens to Amazonia, my Shamblers become as useful as a herd of goats."

The shadow of Muzen's surprise flashes on his face for a heart's beat and then vanishes. "There will be no siege, Khan Timur, because I am going to open the gates of Amul for you. I fled Tesiphon ahead of the Imperial messengers bearing the emperor's decree, and gathered as many of my useful servants as I could along the way here. They will seize the gates and hold them while I distract the people, including the guards, allowing your vanguard to enter. Once inside, turn the dead loose upon the people, sparing no one. Make it seem as if the dead have risen from their graves to take vengeance upon the living for the terrible crime Chaac and the emperor committed against me."

"We'll drive the people screaming from Amul." A horrible idea is forming in my mind, and I'm not going to let myself feel guilty about it, either. Not when it may well help end my mission earlier than I'd hoped. "Karl, where's the map?"

He knows what map I mean, and he glances at Lys as he hesitates. "Go ahead and bring it out," she says, giving Muzen her glittering shards of black ice smile. "If he's truly with us, he needs to know how well prepared we are... and if this is all an elaborate trap, Timur will find out sooner because of the same."

"There will be no trap," Muzen says, "because Yun will not be joining you." Seeing our puzzled expressions, he grimaces. "If Yun was going to be with you, then yes, you would need to watch your backs. I am two separate people living in one body, blending them together when I am Muzen. Yun is the trickster, the clever one, yet also the one who desires peace and harmony among those who he considers to be his children. Kax is different."

I slowly nod. "Yun must've been stabbed to the heart when he learned of the betrayal."

"More than you will ever know," Muzen says, staring at me with eyes like twin pits of darkness. "Yun would want to make things right with the emperor by delivering all of your heads to him on a platter. Yet, Yun is also clever enough to know that, in the end, it would make no difference. No, Yun realizes it is no longer his time. Yun knows this is the time for Kax."

Muzen stands up as his face begins to change. It becomes more angular, yet feminine as well, while reddish-orange hair begins sprouting across his bald head. Her eyes turn the yellowish-white color of molten steel. "Yun was once known as the Lord of Corn," she says, her voice husky, "while I was called the Lady of the Harvest. Now is the time for fire, and the sword. Now is the time for reaping the bodies of those indifferent to our cause, and seeing them rise up and join your swelling ranks." She gives us a terrible smile. "Now is the time of Kax."

The rest of us exchange a look before Karl reaches into the pouch he carries and pulls out the map. "This has all the locations where the dead, grey trees mark the Shambler way stations," he says as he unrolls it. "And before you ask, we weren't the ones who drew this."

"It was found in the temple of Ghash-Kimil," Lys adds.

Kax slowly nods. "Much becomes clear. So, you who are Timur's Shadow Knight, what is your idea?"

I rise to my feet as well and lean over the table. "Alright, the city of Amul is here, with lands extending westward, with Merv to the south and Nisa to the southwest. What if instead of just sacking Amul with the Shamblers, we press on west-"

"Flooding Nisa and Merv with refugees," Kax says, leaning over the table as well. "Oh, very good." She looks up at Timur's image. "Will Merv ally with you, as I assume Maracanda to the southeast will?"

Timur's expression turns smug. "Baktra to the south of us as well. Eucrat to Baktra's east will likely hold out, so if Amul falls to the Shamblers and Maracanda is loyal, I can swoop down to Eucrat before anyone expects it. As for Merv?" He shrugs. "As I understand things, the city could go either way."

"I have a way to push them into your arms. So, the Shamblers press on, attacking the western towns and villages of Amul, which will push more and more refugees south, while I rally the priestesses of Kax to begin terror campaigns of their own. Nisa, which is nestled against the inland sea to the west, and Sasnayam lands to the south, has not had so much as a raiding party invade their lands for centuries. They will run towards Sasnayam faster than the people of Amul will."

"I can divert Warg-lancers to help," Timur says.

Kax shakes her head. "You need the southern satrapies with you. Take Eurcat, and the rest will likely fall into line."

"Sooner or later, the Sasnayams will send an army against us," Karl says.

"Against Khan Timur, certainly," Kax says. She gives him an evil smile. "But who wants to lead an army against the vengeful dead? The elite will not believe the tales at first, until the refugees begin flooding in, and once they do, the generals will all want someone else to lead the soldiers. They are superstitious to a fault."

"My army will be a different story," Timur says, "once they realize they're losing their satrapies." His image motions at me. "Amazonia has assembled a strong corps of Shambler-soldiers, and when the Sasnayam attack comes, I want her leading them alongside my men."

"That won't be a problem," Lys says. "If all we want the Shamblers to do is terrorize the people, Cermet or one of the Necromantic mages can herd them in the right direction, turn them loose, then collect them once the people are dead or fled."

"I'll keep the best of the Shamblers in reserve," I say to Timur, "and add more as we go. Once you've got the satrapies on our side, I can move them to one of the larger ruins listed on the map."

Karl clears his throat. "Kax, I'm going to play Hel's emissary here, and mention that, if this plan works, we could destroy everything you've built over the years."

Kax's evil smile returns. "Yun's 'cleverness' brought us to this place, and he can sort it all out once there is no one left to kill." She looks past us, staring into some unseen future as she makes a fist. "Right now I want to watch it all burn."