Wysper

  "Your betrothal is going on just as planned," Prince Varsena replied with a smile. "I offered you guest-right, which means that you are a part of my family until we go our separate ways. My wife and I will sponsor your betrothal since my little brother cannot."

  "And was my husband going to tell me this?" Striding towards them out from the open gate was a slender woman with a sharp nose and finely chiseled features in a light brown face, her dark blue dress richly embroidered and elegant sandals on her feet. Her black hair spilled down to her shoulders in a luxurious wave. Behind her, a Germanic looking man in a rough tunic and crude sandals held a witchlight lantern in one hand and a wooden cudgel in the other. A leather collar with painted symbols was wrapped around his neck.

  Stopping in front of the prince, the woman looked up at him with raised eyebrows as if expecting an answer. He winced. "Sorocan, there was no time to send word. Events have been moving quickly."

  "Not as quickly as the rumors. Well, are you going to introduce us?"

  Prince Varsena seemed to be suppressing a sigh as he made an inviting motion. "Wysper, before you stands Sorocan of the clan Blue River, daughter of Khan Khalja the Elder."

  Wysper bowed to her. "Mistress Sorocan, I am Wysper of the Iceni people, daughter of Queen Boadicea, third of her name."

  "Who was once known as Blood-Wysper, the eternal sacrificial victim of the heart-eaters."

  She nodded. "Blood-Wysper was my slave name."

  "But now you are free." Sorocan's sharp features softened as she smiled. "The Keeper of the Spirits sent one of them to watch over the Great Khan while he was across the river from Bukhara, and learned all that happened. Your betrothal ceremony is taking place just as soon as I can get you ready."

  Wysper’s eyes went wide. "So soon?"

  She nodded as Prince Varsena said, "Did the Keeper come to visit you?"

  Sorocan glanced back at the Germanic man behind her before looking forward again. "Do you see one of Wulf's talking ravens on my shoulder? The Keeper is back in our tent, waiting for Wysper so we can prepare her. You," her finger making a stabbing motion towards the prince, "need to do the same with Greywolf."

  Prince Varsena was shaking his head. "I know the Great Khan wants this betrothal to happen soon, but this is insane."

  "Asena escaped her prison right after the Great Khan and the delegation left. She was seen crossing the bridge that leads into the wild country where the troll cave lays, and the guard has been tripled, but the Keeper is worried that Asena might return."

  "A wise move," Titan rumbled, "as it is likely she is watching us right now." Glancing over her shoulder, the hills beyond the river stood like silent sentinels, and Wysper shivered as Titan said to her, "Go with this woman while the prince and I prepare your betrothed."

  Sorocan reached out and grasped her hand, Wysper letting herself be pulled along towards the open gate despite her confusion as Prince Varsena called out, "Sorocan, you knew all about this but threw it in my face anyway."

  Over her shoulder, she called back, "If I am being rude, then you must punish me for my behavior." She laughed at his strange, almost hungry look, and turned back forward. "If you want to keep a man's heart,” Sorocan said in a quiet voice, “always remember a wolf lies inside the man who lives for the hunt, and for the capture. Now," her voice growing eager, "tell me what happened in Bukhara. I am dying to find out."

  Wysper hesitated a moment before throwing caution upon the fire, telling her everything that had occurred as they passed by tent after tent, with a multitude of people either walking along the crisscrossing dirt roads or performing tasks, many of them breaking off talking or working to gawk as they passed by.

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  They reached two long ditches barring the way in front of them, with a narrow strip of earth between, guarded by warriors in leather and steel. Sorocan spoke a few words to them in their harsh language and they let the two women and the Germanic man pass. On the other side, the tents were much nicer as they walked alongside the deep trench until reaching one with blue water symbols and other designs on the front. The Germanic man opened the flap and the two women stepped inside.

  Witchlight lanterns hung from the wooden crossbeams holding the tent up, illuminating a large space with richly woven carpets on the floor and more hanging against the walls. Still more carpets partially covered wooden chests on either side. On the far side was a sleeping mat big enough for two, with folded blankets and pillows, while several embroidered flat cushions with colorful bolsters to lean against were set up around a low stone table with four legs. An enchanted fire-stone, a thick round disc the size of a woman’s hands placed together, sat in the table's center, the runes along the side glowing blue while the stone itself glowed a dull red.

  A Sasnayam woman in a linen dress, a painted leather collar around her throat, was pouring hot water from a copper teakettle into three ceramic cups as an old woman's voice came from the right-hand side. "The spirits told me that you and your guest were on the way, so I had your girl prepare tea."

  The Sasnayam woman, who had the face of someone from the noble caste, looked old enough to be Sorocan's mother. She did not look up but continued pouring water as Sorocan deeply bowed. "Keeper of the Spirits, please forgive my lack of manners."

  Sitting on a cushion was an old, old woman in bone white robes, her long, tangled hair covering her face. "Child," she said, making a dismissive wave with a thin hand gnarled as a tree root, "how could you be in two places at once?" She beckoned with her fingers. "Princess of the Bloody Crown, come and sit with me."

  Wysper gasped. "How do you know that?"

  Through the matted hair covering her face, she could see her smile. "Because the spirits see what Amazonia did. Come." Sorocan gave Wysper a gentle push, and together they walked around the stone table and stopped in front of the woman, who motioned for Wysper to take the cushion in front of her. Wysper knelt, then sat with her legs folded, Sorocan sitting to one side as the old woman said, "Child, I need to examine you to make sure your mana is flowing properly." Before Wysper could respond, she reached out and placed one hand on the young woman’s abdomen. Then she grasped both of Wysper’s hands, smiling as she held them for a moment, and finally placed the tips of her finger’s to Wysper’s temples.

  The smile vanished as the Keeper took her hands away. "You will be happy to know that the place where your mana node used to form is healing, and not reforming as the mana is now flowing freely through your hands. But the nightmare the Winter Fae planted into your mind is strong."

  "Prince Varsena told me you could remove it."

  The old woman gave a derisive snort. "Sometimes he gives me far too much credit. Normally, I could, but Yrg has been transformed by the Necromantic Arts into something the spirits are loath to challenge. However, there is hope." The Keeper reached out and tapped Wysper once between the eyes with her forefinger. "Anything transformed by the Necromantic Arts is strong, yet also fragile, and if you turn around and face this wolf-woman, which is Yrg's memory of Asena, then the nightmare will shatter and never return."

  Fear stabbed Wysper through the heart. "Please, mistress, there has to be another way. I have tried that with Yrg's nightmares in the past and only wound up in a worse place than if I ran."

  Sorocan said in a gentle voice, "Were they that bad?"

  Wysper nodded as the memories came back, tears leaking from her eyes as Sorocan grasped her hand and held it. The Keeper cocked her head as if listening to words only she could hear. "Child," she finally said, "there is another way. After the betrothal tonight, you and Greywolf must find Asena and you must confront her, even at the risk of your own life."

  Sorocan gave the Keeper an indignant look. "That creature wants to kill Wysper."

  There was something wrong with the Keeper's face as she continued staring at Wysper... no, I cannot believe she has no eyes. "Child, the spirits tell me there is no other way."

  "Then I will do it." Wysper stabbed at her eyes with the heel of her free hand, rubbing away the tears. "I am tired of being afraid all the time. I am Brittani; I was ready to die with Greywolf, and if his mother decides to kill me, I will not run." Sorocan was staring at her like she’d lost her mind, and Wysper gave her a sad smile. "As long as I get one night with Greywolf, I will be content."

  "If Asena kills you," the Keeper said, "I will ensure you are given the proper funeral of your people. Yet, if somehow you survive, I will take you on as my apprentice and teach you all I know, dream-walking and spirit-lore, so the knowledge can pass on to another people."

  Sorocan lets go of Wysper’s hand as her eyes went wide. "Teach... but Wysper is an Outlander. Apologies," she said, looking towards the young woman, "but you will never be one of us. Varsena told me spirit-lore cannot ever be shared with outlanders."

  "We may all be outlanders soon," the Keeper said cryptically. "But until then," her face breaking out into a grin, "we are going to have some fun. Believe it or not, I do so love planning betrothals."