Greywolf

  “No one is coming."

  Standing on the hill where the body of the brave little girl had been burned, Titan and Avitohol wore armor, while Greywolf had on white trousers and nothing else except the cloak keeping the cold wind off him. Below them, the encampment was far darker than normal as most of the people had gathered to watch the betrothal happen. Hundreds of torches showed the route the ritual was going to take. They marked a passage beginning from the bridge on the same side, then leading away from the encampment, running at an angle away from the river until becoming a wide circle where Greywolf had to 'steal' Wysper away from her temporary family, as per tradition. Kula and a hundred of the Chosen were waiting to 'defend' her, while a hundred warriors of the People were supposed to be helping Greywolf.

  Except none of them had decided to come. "This isn't fair," Avitohol said in reply to Titan's comment as he paced back and forth like a caged wolf. “Father told me warriors would join us just to show defiance to those whose hearts belong to Timur and not to me. He told me they'd come."

  There was a ragged edge of hurt in Avitohol's voice, and Greywolf shared a look with Titan before the Ogri sighed. "I was afraid this might happen. The other khans are unhappy with the Great Khan's decision to banish Timur, and while they would never dare question him, withholding their warriors is a risk-free way to show their displeasure."

  "Risk-free to them maybe," Avitohol snapped. "Even though it's Kula and his picked warriors, they'll be honor bound to beat Greywolf into a pulp or risk being ridiculed as cowards."

  "Then they'll beat me to a pulp," Greywolf snarled. He could’ve easily evaded them using the Grey, but not only had he vowed to the Great Khan that he’d follow their traditions and not cheat, but a Night Hag had tried to rip his face off earlier when he’d poked his nose into the Shadowlands. "They're honor bound not to kill me, so if I have to, I'll crawl—” The wind shifted, bringing with it a musky smell. "Shite, that smells like Warghorses coming from the direction of Bukhara."

  All three were unarmed as per tradition. "Both of you get behind me now," Titan rumbled as he turned to face the west.

  "Who do you think it is?" Greywolf asked at Titan’s shoulder. "Timur?"

  "Raiders from another clan, more likely," Avitohol replied. "Just hope it's not bandits or we're in horse shite up to our ears."

  The pounding of hard paws riding up the hill reached their ears, and Titan bellowed like a war drum, "Whoever approaches, name yourself friend or foe."

  The Warghorse riders crested the hill, grey shadows in the moonlight as a growling voice called out, "Friend."

  "Castor,” Greywolf called back as hope surged within him, “is that you?"

  A wolfish figure in armor slid off from behind a rider and loped towards them as Greywolf strode to meet him. Titan went back to a relaxed yet wary stance as Castor stopped and embraced him. "You didn't really think I was going to abandon you?"

  They pounded each other on the back before letting go. "I thought you were trapped in Bukhara."

  "I was, but Fox needed someone to go with her that wasn't beholden to Timur, so off we went across the bridge through the Shadowlands."

  Titan rumbled, "That Daemo is frightened of her own shadow."

  "Not when I've got a hundred Black Dragon warriors around me." Fox slid down from behind a tall rider at the front and walked towards them, wearing the armor Prince Varsena had crafted for her. "Raid-leader Hypam placed me under her protection and—”

  "Hypam?" Avitohol raced around Titan towards the tall rider swinging down from the Warghorse. "What are you doing here?"

  "Hunting for you," the tall figure responded. Hypam wore an open faced helm and black leather armor fully covered in Artifact plates, with a sheathed sword strapped to her belt, and as Avitohol reached her, she picked him up and swung him around. "Blood and stones," she said as she put him down, "when did you get so heavy?"

  "That's kind of a long story. Greywolf, this is my cousin, Hypam, a Fire-mage for the Black Dragon clan." Avitohol motioned back at the other two. "These are my friends."

  "Greywolf, son of the Wolf Mother, and Titan, last of the Ancient Ones, as the Ogri of Haven call you. Our clan has heard all about you both." She bowed towards them. "I am honored to finally meet you."

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  Titan inclined his head. "Well met. You surprise me, though, knowing what I am."

  Hypam had the face of a Tartaros warrior, but with burn marks on her skin instead of scars. "Black Dragon hunts all through the wastes of Khitia and even to the Xian borders, so we know the Ogri well." She looked at Avitohol. "Old Bone Woman had a dream about you several weeks ago, a dream that made Khan Huldin send us towards the encampment. But instead of riding the trails, we were told to take the caravan roads and reach Bukhara today after nightfall, which we did, and once we got there to 'Take the grey road'." She placed her hand on Fox's shoulder for a moment. "I had no idea what that meant until we came upon this little one and Castor."

  Fox smiled at her as Hypam let the Daemo go. "She agreed to place us under her protection in exchange for passage to an old ruin with a grey tree that's near the troll cave."

  Hypam shrugged. "It's faster than traveling half the night to get here. Now," her hands going to her hips, "why in Rostaxa's name are the three of you standing out here in the cold?"

  "It's a long story as well, but it's like this..." Avitohol began explaining what had happened over the last few days, with Titan occasionally making comments.

  As he continued, Greywolf pulled Castor aside. "How's everything back in Bukhara?"

  Castor snorted. "If Bukhara was a dog, it would be on its back exposing its belly and whining. Timur's settling into the satrap's palace while the priestesses are sorting out which buildings in the Temple District become theirs, and which ones get torn down."

  Before he could go on, Hypam barked out a laugh. "Now, everything makes sense. Greywolf, for Avitohol's sake, my warriors and I will defend you, so you can symbolically steal away your woman and Khan Khingla can get rid of Timur for good."

  Titan rumbled, "The Great Khan may lose most of his warriors this way."

  "Excellent. When Avitohol claims the name of 'Little Father' and become Khan of khans, Black Dragon clan will help Attila lead the tribes away from this dangerous idea of becoming a kingdom."

  "That is not what the Great Khan desires."

  Hypam snorted. "Since the Great Khan will be dead, there won't be much he can say." She waved her hand towards the encampment. "The People are getting too settled, while Black Dragon grows too wild. We don't keep sheep or goats anymore but plunder everything we need, selling off the rest to the lords of Khor, or else fight as mercenaries as we've done for the Ogri of Haven." Hypam glanced back at her warriors, then turned forward again and shook her head. "Yet even the wildest among us are beginning to realize we can't keep going down this road forever."

  "That would be you," Avitohol quipped.

  Hypam reached out and mussed his hair. "Then you realize how serious things are now. When Old Bone Woman consulted the spirit of our clan, Rostaxa the Dragon told her this was going to be a Warg winter that's going to bite us hard, sending the old ones into Tengri's arms. We need to find a place to ride it out... and the Great Khan will need warriors."

  Greywolf traded a look with the others as Hypam went on. "But for the moment, let's focus on the battle ahead of us. Greywolf, are you prepared?" In response, Greywolf opened his cloak showing his bare chest, painted symbols of the wolf on his skin. Hypam walked up to him and stopped, running a calloused finger over his healing bite marks but making no comment. "Cousin, did the warriors at least leave you the traditional instruments?"

  Avitohol's eyes narrowed. "Oh, yeah. They tossed them at my feet, then laughed as they turned around and left."

  Hypam smiled. "We shall see who's laughing at the end." She turned towards her warriors and began explaining what was going on in their tongue. When she finished, they dismounted and strapped their weapons and helms onto their Warghorses, before turning them over to a half-dozen boys not much older than Avitohol, with five of them taking charge of the beasts. The sixth removed a long, curved bow and a single arrow off Hypam’s Warghorse, and brought them to her as she removed her own helm and gave it to him.

  The boy laid her helm on the ground and set the arrow into the string as Hypam took a mana stone in a silver spiral earring and threaded it into her earlobe. Titan rumbled, "I thought the Great Khan said no weapons."

  Hypam gave him a wicked grin. "I'd hate to show up unannounced." Her hair began glowing a reddish-orange color as the mana stone glowed blue, and all of them stepped back as she cupped her hands. A small spinning ball of fire formed, and a moment later white lines in the shape of a tiny dragon appeared around the flaming ball. Hypam motioned with her head at the dark haired boy, and he positioned the arrowhead so it was just inside the white lines, but not touching the fireball. Then she spoke a word. The lines and the fireball vanished, leaving behind the illusion of a tiny black dragon attached to the arrow.

  The boy handed her the bow and stepped back, collecting the helm and returning it to her Warghorse as Hypam pulled back on the bowstring, sighted where she wanted the arrow to go, and let fly. The arrow hissed as it left the bow, carrying the tiny illusion with it as it rose into the night sky towards the encampment. Black Dragon warriors walked past them, picking up the discarded instruments as Hypam wiped the sweat from her brow and spoke another word.

  The illusion expanded as it roared fire, climbing upward until the attached arrow peaked, and then began falling as if a black dragon descended towards the encampment. Screaming and panicked shouts erupted from below as the warriors and Avitohol laughed, Greywolf transfixed by the sight of a fire roaring black dragon hurtling down, falling short of the encampment and heading towards the river. The warriors used the leather straps to hold the drums against their hips as others ready the metal horns as they watched the black dragon hit the water and go out.

  One of the warriors let loose a blast on his horn. Greywolf took off the cloak and let it fall, shivering a bit in the cold wind as the horn blast echoed across the hills before fading. Then the war drums began. Still holding onto her bow, Hypam motioned for him to lead, and as Greywolf started down the hill towards the bridge, the drums and horns rang out in a strange, savage music from a darker time as the others fell in behind him.

  With their feet matching the pace the war drums set, they marched down together towards the encampment.