Amazonia

  "Az, are you ready to go?"

  This was the day of Prince Timur's 'funeral', and the guest of honor was wearing a dark blue tunic with red trim at the cuffs and hem, with matching trousers and the cuffs tucked into his boots. As per tradition, he wore a heavy gold chain as a protection against magic, but no sword or even a knife. However, his other two Bloodguards and Az were in full armor with bladed weapons in case of trouble.

  Right now, the only trouble was between Greywolf and his mother. "I'm not leaving Wysper," he said from the other side of the beaded curtain before Amazonia could answer Timur. "She needs me right now and you don't. Besides, I've watched you fight more times than I can count; I don't need to watch you and Titan pound on each other."

  "Fine," Asena growled back from the side closest to the door. She was in full armor, leather and chainmail, with a blunted long sword in one hand and a blunted fighting axe in the other. Amazonia didn't even know Asena owned an open faced steel helm until she came out wearing it. "As soon as Wysper wakes up, get her dressed and fed so we can shake the dust of this place off our heels."

  "It's your fault she's this way. What were you thinking?"

  Asena made a disgusted noise and stomped out the open doorway into the brisk air, leaving a trail of sour wine fumes behind. Prince Timur watched her leave, then turned towards Az with his eyebrows raised. "What's that all about?"

  "After they left Ishtar and her cronies,” Az replied, “Asena took Wysper on a tour of every wine shoppe in Bukhara, including a few real dives." Timur reared back in surprise and she smiled. "When Asena returned Wysper here last night, I asked the girl if she was drunk and Wysper replied: 'A Celt is never drunk if she can hold onto a single blade of grass and not fall off the edge of the world'."

  Timur reminded Az of a baffled bear as he shook his head. "That makes no sense."

  Az chuckled. "The girl thought it so witty she giggled over it until Greywolf put her to bed."

  "At least this means I will not have to suffer Greywolf's presence this morning." Timur glanced back behind him and lowered his voice. "Is that the Daemo agent of the Eastern Empire spy?"

  The smile left Amazonia’s face as she glanced back as well. In the far, shadowed corner of the private room, a manlike Daemo with a bald head and lumpy skin the color of ground mustard seed, sat on a cushion at one of the low tables. A piece of parchment was in front of him, upon which he was writing with a stylus and ink. Little Paulus sat beside the Daemo, speaking quietly, with the Nomads on either side of the boy. At the next table, Balthazar's four burly guards, who had just delivered a large chest packed with several more small wine casks, were eating breakfast.

  Az looked at Timur. "It is. Since the agent's supposed to be a merchant making sure Little Paulus is well, the Daemo's taking down a letter telling the emperor that he's doing fine, and chronicling our adventures in a general way."

  Prince Timur frowned. "I'm uncomfortable with the Eastern Empire knowing so much about our plans."

  "My prince," Bogen, his Bloodguard, said, "I was drinking last night in a brothel with Troll and the Lycaon brothers, and we overheard several merchants arguing over when we will march south."

  "I've heard the same," Argat added. "My prince, by spring the news of our upcoming campaign will have traveled all the way to Tesiphon and beyond."

  "I'd march us earlier," Timur growled, "but this is going to be a wolf winter." With a hand he motioned towards the west. "Yesterday I rode with Porthos to a sheltered valley not far from the city, which the Sasnayam governor used as his private hunting estate. It would be perfect for the People to settle into were it not for the stubborn old fool."

  "While I can do nothing about your father’s stubbornness," Lys' voice said from the open doorway, “I do have a solution to your other problem.” She was dressed in new brown robes matching Karl's tunic and trousers, sitting on his shoulder and lightly kicking his chest with her bare feet. "Walk with me out here where eager ears cannot hear us." Az glanced over her shoulder.

  The Daemo had stopped writing to watch them instead. His dark eyes met hers and quickly looked away, his misshapen head turning back towards Little Paulus with an apologetic smile and quiet words. Amazonia’s eyes narrowed. Behind her, Timur and the other two Bloodguards were following Karl and Lys out the door, but she remained long enough to beckon the Nomads over. They rose to their feet and joined her. "Domina?"

  "Keep a wary eye on the Daemo," she breathed into their ears. "Something about the creature doesn't feel right."

  "We will, Domina," they replied in unison, heading back to the table as Az turned towards the door, closing it behind her as she stepped outside.

  Grey clouds hung low over the area, threatening rain, but at least the air felt a little warmer as she adjusted the Rune sword sheathed at her back before joining the others partway down the alley. Karl pulled out a folded piece of parchment and handed it to Timur. "The priestess Akbal found this when she was going through the chambers belonging to the head priest of Bukhara's Ghash-Kimil temple." Timur unfolded it as Karl added, "It's a map detailing the weak spots between the worlds, each one marked with the symbol of a dead tree, and a building symbol around the tree indicating the size of the ruin that once guarded it."

  As they began walking towards the main street, Az glanced over his shoulder at the map. It showed all the lands of the Sasnayam empire and its satrapies, along with part of the Eastern Empire's provinces and the independent kingdoms north of the Sasnayams, with the major cities and roads clearly marked. The dead tree markings went from tiny to huge, with lots of them scattered around the map. Timur frowned as he looks up. "What were they doing with such a map?"

  "And is it accurate,” Amazonia chimed in.

  "Akbal showed me documents hinting that Ghash-Kimil planned something similar to what we are doing," Lys said in a sly voice, "and while I have no idea if the map is accurate or not, I have no reason to doubt it. Prince Timur, do you see the tree symbol close to the border where the lands of Bukhara meet Amul to the west and Marakanda to the south?"

  Timur nodded. "There's a large tree symbol surrounded by the symbol for a large ruin."

  Karl said, "When I asked Porthos about the place, he gave me a long tale about a fortified Babylonian temple complex that was abandoned during a time when the Shadowlands spilled over into the real world, bringing Shadow creatures with it. He claims it's still haunted."

  As they reached the main road and turned left, Timur handed the map back to Karl, who tucked it away as Timur stroked his beard. "Haunted or not, the location's perfect as a staging point." He frowned. "However, if the Shambler army is spotted going south, our enemies will find out."

  "Not if we march them by night," Lys said, "especially if it is raining. The map indicates there are enough weak areas close by to act as way stations, where we can hole up during the day and replenish the troops."

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  "I'll have to lead them," Az said in a sharp voice. "Does that mean I'm spending the winter with the dead?"

  "Not at all," Lys replied. "You and I will get them down there along with Cermet, who will then control the hundred or so we leave as guards and watchers. The rest will remain hidden away while you and I return to Bukhara."

  Relief washed over Amazonia even though her face remained impassive. Timur glanced at her with a knowing smile, then turned his head towards Karl. "Does Porthos know about this map?"

  Karl shook his head. "Only the six of us and Akbal, who's almost as close mouthed as Inanna's corpse." A smile touched his lips. "You should see that corpse fight, though. What it lacks in speed it makes up for in sheer brute power."

  Timur smiled. "Excellent. That reminds me: where do we stand with arming and armoring the dead…"

  They went on speaking about logistics and the disruption of trade, but Az lost what they were saying as they got close to the entrance plaza between the main gate and the road leading to the Temple district. Vendors with wooden carts or just blankets laid out on the paving stones, waved and shouted at the members of the Crimson Horde streaming in through the open city gates. Amazonia frowned as she watched the people flowing inside. "My prince, how did you convince your father to let you host the games here and not on the other side of the river?"

  "After the betrothal ritual ended in such a disaster, he accepted my invitation to ride out to the small village just beyond the bridge, and we talked as rational men. Nothing was decided except to hold the games here as a way to desecrate the Sasnayam's sacred temples and spit in their eye, in a sense."

  The noise of the crowd was getting too loud to talk without shouting, Timur raising his voice at the end, and it only got worse as they joined the mob of people gawking at the buildings or lingering over the wares. Timur seemed to be in no hurry, accepting well wishes from men dressed either in leather and fur or linen and wool cloaks, along with the noble women in flowing dresses. Each woman wore a wide band of thin gold plate across her forehead, with strings of multi-colored beads hanging off all the way around. Eventually, they made it through the Temple district gateway and continued on until they reached the central plaza, where the four largest pyramids still stood.

  In the center of the plaza, a stone platform the size of the fighting area in a small arena had been put together, rising up several feet above the plaza's paving stones. Stone stairs on either side led to the top. The Crimson Horde nobles were being directed to sit on the steps and ledges of the largest pyramid to the far right, facing west, while the commoners got the other three, though most went for the two closest pyramids on either side. Everyone was doing business with more vendors selling grilled meat or filling wooden cups from their large wine flagons.

  Looking around at the spectacle, Amazonia shook her head in disbelief. Timur stopped as well. "Az, is something wrong?"

  "Apologies, my prince, but for a moment it was like being back in the arena... except, on the wrong side."

  "Not only the wrong side," Lys said from her perch, "but you get to sit in the emperor's box as well. Look straight ahead."

  A stone platform painted dark red, rising up as tall as Titan and about as wide and long, overlooked the fighting area. "It's actually the funeral bier," Timur said in a sardonic voice. Az couldn't keep the look of shock off her face, and he chuckled. "Blame the first khan of the People for starting this tradition."

  Karl said, "Prince Timur, once you're burned in effigy, you'll be able to begin new traditions of your own."

  Timur clapped him on the shoulder. "Now that, my friend, is a worthy thought. Where will you sit?"

  Before Karl could answer, Lys pointed at the far pyramid where a few people were sitting. "I can see Dancer and Fox up there together. Let's join them."

  Karl squinted as he looked up. "They're almost at the top. If they go any higher they'll get nosebleeds."

  "You're just being fussy because you don't want to climb the stairs."

  "Do you blame me?"

  "You need the exercise." Lys grabbed his braid and shook it. "Come on, horsey, up those stairs."

  Karl rolled his eyes but started towards the far pyramid as Timur and his Bloodguards reached the red platform and climbed up. Timur sat down directly in the middle, then motioned for Az to sit at his right hand, with Argat taking his left and Bogen sitting directly behind the prince, guarding his back. As people continued filing in, they talked about the upcoming combat as Amazonia scanned the area for threats. She watched as Karl and Lys joined Dancer and Fox on the ledge just below the top, Lys motioning at Dancer, who nodded. He took off his cloak and threw it over Fox, probably for warmth as Daemo hate the cold.

  Her gaze left them and wandered down to the space between their pyramid and the largest one across from their box. Individual wooden pens had been built there, each stall holding one of the Warghorses the khans would use in the upcoming race. The beasts were being fed a mixture of raw meat and fruit, which Timur had said the Warghorses love, by two young men carrying a large wooden bucket. A third man scooped out each portion into their trough. The three men fed the silver muzzled Warghorse of Khan Khingla and moved on.

  A grey mist formed behind them as a pale arm tossed a purple piece of fruit into the trough. Az blinked and rubbed her eyes.

  Nothing, just the old Warghorse trotting up to the feeding trough and sticking his head in. Az whipped her head around towards Dancer.

  Fox was calmly sitting beside him, Dancer adjusting the cloak as Fox looked in Az’s direction and frantically began to wave. Dancer waved as well, and Amazonia raised her hand in acknowledgment as Timur chuckled. "For a Daemo, she's certainly enthusiastic. We know where the twins are and Dancer, but where are the other two?"

  Bogen replied before Az could. "Passed out in the brothel where I left them, early this morning, my prince."

  Az snorted. "At least that'll keep Troll out of trouble for a while." Horns blew and a roar went up among the crowd as Titan and Asena strode out from opposite sides toward the platform. As they approached the stairs on either side, Amazonia’s gaze went back to the silver muzzled Warghorse. Did I actually see something? I'm not sure. I could mention it to Timur, but then he'll be honor bound to say something to his father, which will cause an uproar. The Warghorse was acting no different than before. If anything, he seemed friskier, trotting around the pen as if he couldn't wait to begin racing.

  Breathe, Az. Breathe, remain stoic, keep silent, and forget you saw anything at all.

  Titan wore chainmail with steel chest and back plates, a closed faced helm, a tower shield of wood banded with iron in his left hand and a blunted metal sword in his right. She motioned towards him. "My prince, Titan's never had this much protection in all the fights we had in the arena. There's no way he can lose."

  "I don't know," Argat said, leaning forward to gaze at her "The Wolf Mother looks hungry."

  Az extended her right arm towards him. "Gold to silver that Titan wins."

  Argat grinned. "Tengri knows you've been letting us drink for free, so I'll hate to take your coin."

  "If you take Az's coin," Timur said, "then you can use it to buy Titan a round." Having Timur's blessing, Argat and Amazonia clasped forearms, sealing the bet as Prince Varsena climbed up the stairs behind Titan. The crowd quieted as he inserted Muzen's device into his ear, tapped it once, and began speaking to them in their harsh language. After a little while, he paused.

  Then began speaking again. "People of the Eternal Sky and our friends of Bukhara," he said in Greco, " be welcome, and accept our thanks for helping us pay a final tribute to our, dead-to-us brother, Timur. Although the Great Khan said the games would be held on our side of the river, he felt showing the Sasnayams the degree of contempt that all of us hold for them, justified the games being held here instead."

  "He called me 'Prince Timur' when he spoke to the People," Timur grumbled. "He just had to get in one last dig."

  Az traded a look with the other two Bloodguards but said nothing as Varsena went on for a bit about their traditions, before asking the Great Khan if there was anything he wished to say. Khingla, wearing what looked like riding leathers, called out something from the opposite side and Varsena nodded. "Out of courtesy to the Wolf Mother,” Varsena said, “the Great Khan thought Greywolf should be present as well, and wants her to know that he has sent his son, Crown Prince Avitohol, to find Greywolf and bring him here."

  Asena turned towards the largest pyramid and raised her sword in salute. The old man raised his hand in acknowledgment as Varsena turned and headed towards the stairs. Timur was muttering something about Avitohol being called crown prince as a storm cloud darkened his expression, and Az decided to do something to distract him. "My prince, what are the rules of this combat?"

  Timur left off muttering and glanced at her. "If you're knocked off the platform, you have to climb back up on your own or be eliminated. Otherwise, the fight continues until one is knocked out, too injured to continue, or dead."

  Obviously no thumbs up or thumbs down. "My prince," Az said as Titan and Asena began circling each other, "regardless of what happens, you have two of the greatest living fighters on Earth battling each other in your honor."

  "More like a grudge match," Timur said with a sour smile.

  "Maybe so," Argat said from Timur’s other side, "but when the events of the day are recorded in history, it will be remembered who the fighters were, not why they fought. My prince, today your legend begins.

  Timur began stroking his beard, his expression thoughtful as Asena attacked.