Warlords, Witches and Wolves: A Fantasy Realms Anthology

by Michelle Diener

  “Your men need to learn how to wrestle first,” Kublai joked and all the khans laughed.

  “That would leave us with an uneven number,” Dagar said.

  “You can sit out the first round,” Turgen offered. “Then we’ll draw names to see who will sit out during the next round.”

  Dagar glanced at the warriors, already shirtless and barefoot, spreading fat over their upper bodies to make them less easy to grip. “All right.”

  Turgen called out the pairs and then banged a drum for the fights to start.

  Watching wrestling had never interested Shuree, but she cheered as Gan and then another of her tribe members made it through to the second round.

  It was Dagar’s turn to wrestle and he stripped off his tunic to reveal hard, rippled abs underneath. Suddenly the wrestling became far more interesting.

  Over to one side, Tegusken and Badma viewed the wrestlers with interest, giggling and whispering to each other. Shuree hadn’t had a chance to catch up with them in days. Badma pointed to Dagar and whispered something and then spotted Shuree. She waggled her eyebrows in Dagar’s direction and grinned at her.

  Shuree’s cheeks flushed and she ignored her friends’ laughter. Dagar was a warrior, so of course his body was strong.

  The next round began and Shuree’s attention was fixed on Dagar, who wrestled one of Turgen’s men. Turgen shouted encouragement as the men circled each other and then grappled. In a blink of an eye, Dagar flipped the Horkham warrior over his back and onto the ground. The man swore and Dagar gave him a hand up.

  “Damn he’s quick,” Turgen murmured. Shuree didn’t answer. She’d suspected Dagar would be a good warrior, though he had had the chance to study the fighters before his own match.

  Dagar’s opponent didn’t seem too disgruntled as they moved into the crowd chatting. Gan glared after them, rubbing more fat onto his head in preparation for his next bout. He’d always bragged that shaving his head made him stronger, and gave his opponents less opportunity to grab him.

  By the third round, they were down to three pairs and Turgen announced the matches.

  “Dagar and Gan!” he called.

  Shuree stopped listening. This was not a good match. Her concern was mirrored on Amar’s face. She found Dagar in the line-up and his look of satisfaction added to her worry.

  She turned to Turgen. “We should change the pairs,” she said. “Gan hates Dagar.”

  Turgen laughed. “They’re always the best matches.” He patted her arm. “You’ll see.”

  Before she could insist, he banged on the drum. Dagar and Gan circled each other as the crowd shouted. Neither seemed to notice the noise, their focus on their opponent, waiting for their move.

  Finally Gan lunged forward, one hand finding Dagar’s waistband and the other grasping his upper arm. They grappled, grunting, and moved in a circle, each trying to get the upper hand. Dagar twisted out of Gan’s grasp and came at him from a different direction, managing to lift him, but Gan shifted his weight and stopped himself from being thrown.

  Shuree’s heart thudded as they went at each other again, the slap of their skin making her wince.

  Then, as before, Dagar shifted and Gan was thrown onto the ground—the match was over. Shuree sighed as Dagar held out a hand to help Gan up. Gan ignored it, reaching into his pocket and then lunged at Dagar. Something glistened in the sunlight.

  “Knife!” Shuree yelled.

  Dagar jumped back, narrowly being missed by the blade. Turgen roared, “Drop it!”

  Gan ignored him and continued forward, slashing the knife towards Dagar. No one in the crowd moved.

  Gan had gone too far this time. Shuree strode into the ring. “Gan, drop the knife immediately.”

  “You can’t save your lover,” Gan snarled. “He needs to die.”

  “Shuree, stay back,” Dagar said.

  She would not. She had to stop Gan from hurting Dagar.

  “Stop it, Gan.” Amar stepped forward out of the crowd.

  “You’re as weak as your sister,” Gan spat. “Neither of you has any ability to lead.”

  Hurt and anger crossed Amar’s face and he lunged at Gan’s back, tackling him to the ground.

  Gan roared in fury as Dagar joined the fray, blocking Shuree’s view so she couldn’t see what was happening.

  Suddenly Amar yelled in pain and then a bloodied knife flew from the tangle of bodies.

  Shuree flinched as Dagar pinned Gan, and Amar lay there, blood pouring from a wound in his stomach. Fear froze her. She couldn’t lose another brother.

  Turgen strode forward to help Dagar restrain Gan and Shuree ran to Amar’s side.

  “I need a healer.” She placed her hand over the wound and Amar groaned.

  “Gan stabbed me.” The disbelief in his tone was clear.

  “Did it go deep?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Hot relief swept over her. A healer joined them, looked at the wound and said, “Let’s get him into a tent.”

  Shuree helped him to his feet. She wanted to go with her brother, make sure he was all right, but as khan she had to deal with Gan.

  He was still struggling in Turgen’s arms and icy cold fury filled her, every muscle in her body tightening ready for attack.

  “Where do you want him, Shuree Khan?” Turgen asked.

  Slowly she exhaled and forced herself to unclench her hands. “Take him to my tent.” The anger in her words made Gan stop struggling, his mouth gaping a little. She would deal with him when she was calm.

  Taking another breath, she bowed to Dagar. “My apologies, Dagar, son of Ogodai Khan. You were attacked in my home.” Would he leave?

  “This was not your fault,” Dagar replied. “Go to your brother. We will talk afterwards.”

  The compassion and concern in his eyes helped diffuse the remaining anger.

  The crowd around them were silent.

  “The tournament is not over. Do you wish it to continue?” She directed the question at Kublai and Bat.

  “We’ve had enough excitement,” Kublai answered.

  “Then let us prepare for dinner.”

  The crowd dispersed and Dagar followed the three khans and Gan back to her tent. Shuree went to find her brother.

  He was lying on his back in the healers’ tent while the healer stitched his wound and Nergui held his hand. When she walked in, he said, “I’m sorry, Shuree.”

  “You can’t be blamed for Gan’s actions.” She took his other hand in hers and asked the healer, “How bad is it?”

  “It wasn’t deep, and didn’t pierce any vital organs. He’ll be fine.”

  Shuree exhaled, closing her eyes. “Good.”

  “What are you going to do to Gan?” Amar asked.

  A good question. She wanted to kill him for hurting her brother, and for threatening the peace, but she’d always said violence wasn’t the answer. “What do you think I should do with him?”

  “Father would have beheaded him.”

  “Is that what you want me to do?”

  He shook his head. “Gan’s still grieving for his father.”

  “He can’t go unpunished,” Nergui said.

  No, but if she banished him from the tribe, would it free him to cause more trouble?

  The healer finished the stitches and cleaned the remaining blood from Amar’s stomach. “No fighting until it heals,” she said.

  Amar sat up, wincing a little. Shuree hugged him. “Go show the tribe you are all right, and find out what people are saying. I must deal with Gan.”

  She headed for her tent. Gan’s hands and feet were tied and he sat on the floor with Turgen, Bat, Kublai and Dagar standing over him.

  “Thank you for your help.” She poured them each a drink and gestured for them to sit at the table. She stood over Gan. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

  He spat. “I’m only sorry I didn’t kill him.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “You wanted to kill your best friend?”
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  “Not Amar, the Erseg scum.”

  “You’ve broken the truce I made with Ogodai Khan and threatened our chance at peace. My father would have beheaded you for that.”

  His face paled, but he continued to stare defiantly at her. She wasn’t ever going to change his mind. She turned to the other men in the room. “What would you do?”

  “He refused to obey his khan’s order as well,” Bat pointed out. “It’s more than enough to sentence him to death.”

  The other khans nodded.

  “And what would you like me to do?” she asked Dagar. “It was your life he tried to take.”

  Dagar was silent for a long moment. “I trust your judgement to do what is right for your tribe.”

  The words burned through her leaving warmth in their trail.

  She turned back to Gan and was reminded of his mother and how devastated she had been when her husband had died. Shuree couldn’t take another life from her. She prayed to Qadan she wasn’t making a mistake and spoke. “Gan, you are hereby banished from this tribe. You are no longer a member of the Saltar, you may not trade with us, stay with us or receive any help from us. You have thirty minutes to say goodbye to your family and gather your things.”

  Gan scowled. “I don’t need this tribe.”

  Bat stepped up beside Shuree. “Gan, you are also not welcome in the Bulgat tribe.”

  “Nor the Horkham tribe,” Turgen said.

  “If I catch you on Kharil lands, I will behead you,” Kublai growled.

  Gan’s hands shook and his eyes were wide. Any friends he had in the other tribes were no longer available to him.

  Dagar hauled Gan to his feet. “If you value your life, do not come near my tribe.”

  Half of Rhora was now forbidden to him. Shuree wasn’t sorry. “Let’s take him to his mother.”

  After seeing Gan’s mother’s tearful goodbye, Shuree wanted to close herself into her yurt and forget about the world. The woman’s grief brought back Shuree’s pain at losing her father and brothers, but Shuree was khan and she had to speak to her people about Gan’s sentence.

  She joined her brother by the communal fire and stood on the platform to get everyone’s attention. “Today Gan drew a knife on our guest Dagar of the Erseg tribe and broke the truce we have in place with them. In the scuffle he stabbed my brother, Amar. As punishment he has been banished from the Saltar tribe.”

  A couple of people gasped. “The other khans were upset about this breach and have similarly banished him from their lands.” Tegusken covered her mouth and others murmured. It might have been kinder to have simply killed him. “Gan was given time to gather his things and say goodbye to his family. He is no longer welcome on our lands and we will not trade or communicate with him.”

  Shuree swallowed. “If anyone else does anything to threaten the peace we are trying to build, they and any co-conspirators will be beheaded. This is my only warning. You voted for peace and you each have a hand in making it a reality. If you hear of anyone unhappy with what we are trying to achieve, please speak to me.” Enough people nodded to satisfy her. “Now, let’s eat.”

  The messengers they had sent to the far west hadn’t returned by the time they had to leave for the Dragon Mountains. Shuree prayed they were safe, that the other tribes had treated them well and not killed them on sight. She chose to take only Vachir and Erhi with her, rather than an extra four warriors as was her right. It was the best way she knew how to show she trusted the other tribes and was dedicated to the peace.

  With her rode the seven members of the three eastern tribes as well as Dagar and Mengu. Spirits were high as the Saltar tribe waved them off.

  They crossed out of Rhora on the third day and into the land known as Chungson. Erhi and the other spiritual advisors seemed to know where they were going as they led the party through the foothills. There were no roads, no paths, few signs of civilisation. Shuree had heard from traders that most Chungson people lived in the valley between the two main mountain ranges in the area, the Dragon Mountains and the Barrier Mountains.

  They camped out in the open, the warriors taking turns to stand guard. As they travelled higher, Shuree regularly turned to look back the way they had come. The view over the expansive steppes was magnificent, her home laid out before her in all its glory. But at no stage did she see the other tribes making their way to the mountains. Shuree prayed to the Gods and ancestors they would come.

  They entered the forest and its shade was cool and unfamiliar. The trees towered above and clustered around them. Shuree’s muscles tightened. She was surrounded, unable to catch more than the occasional glimmer of blue sky. Perhaps the Gods were right to choose the Dragon Mountains as their gathering place. It was so foreign to them all, would leave them all discomfited and hopefully willing to negotiate quickly so they could return to their homes.

  “Mengu says we should reach the meadow soon.” Dagar’s voice shocked Shuree out of her thoughts as he rode up beside her.

  Her gut clenched. “I hope it is large and flat, with plenty of sky above us.”

  “Me too. These trees are confining.”

  She glanced at him and his smile was cautious. “You feel it too?”

  He nodded.

  “I’m glad I’m not the only one.” They hadn’t spoken about their kiss, and he’d made no further move to kiss her again, but it simmered unsaid between them. The more time she spent with him, the more she wished she was free to do what she wanted. “Will your father be there when we arrive?”

  He glanced away. “I hope so.”

  Every nerve in her body stood on end. “What’s wrong?”

  He frowned. “Nothing.”

  Had she imagined the uncertainty in his tone? She checked no one was within earshot and lowered her voice. “Your father is coming?”

  “The last update I received from him confirmed it.” He lifted his head and scanned the tree tops.

  Why was he avoiding looking at her? She wanted to yank him around so she could see his eyes. “And he is bringing only five warriors with him.” Maybe her unease at being in the forest was turning her paranoid. Dagar had never given her any indication he couldn’t be trusted.

  “That was the agreement.” He nodded to Bat who rode ahead of them and had turned around.

  Unable to resist, she grabbed Dagar’s reins and pulled his horse to a halt, letting others move past them. “Will we be safe at the meadow?” Fear coursed through her veins. Were they walking into a trap? Ogodai hadn’t set a time limit on the temporary truce. What if he’d only meant until they all arrived at the meadow?

  “As far as I know.” His eyes were full of confusion. “What’s wrong?”

  Vachir rode past. “Is everything all right?”

  She forced a smile. “Yes, keep going. We’ll bring up the rear.”

  Vachir didn’t look convinced, but kept going.

  When he was out of earshot she said, “There was uncertainty in your tone, Dagar.” She stared into his eyes. “Am I being paranoid?”

  He hesitated and then sighed. “No. I’m worried about those in my tribe who were vocal like Gan about not wanting a truce. My father says he made it clear to them that their opinions weren’t wanted, but I keep thinking about Gan out there somewhere and worry he’s making trouble.” He turned to her. “I want this peace as much as you do.”

  Relief filled her. If that’s all it was, they could deal with any mischief Gan caused. The khans had sent their tribes a message about Gan’s punishment and it was unlikely the western tribes would trust him if they ran into him.

  Up ahead a couple of people shouted and she nudged her horse faster to find out what was happening. They had arrived.

  The meadow spread out in front of her, a flat plain of grasses and colourful flowers, with the beautiful blue sky above them. No one else was there. She sighed. Was that a good sign or a bad one? There were still two nights before the full moon. “Shall we set up camp in the middle?” she asked.

 
; “Let’s put the pavilion in the centre,” Erhi said. “That way if the other tribes want to camp apart from us, they can.”

  She dismounted, leading her horse out of the shade of the trees, turning her face to the sky and the warmth of the sun. She was perhaps three horse lengths into the meadow when her horse whinnied and reared, almost pulling her arm from its socket. A roar echoed throughout the air and Shuree’s heart leapt to her throat.

  “Dragon!” someone cried.

  Sure enough, three dragons, the size of small horses, swooped towards them, their leathery wings outspread and their focus on her. Magnificent and terrifying, glistening in the sun.

  She fought to control her panicked horse but the reins ripped from her grasp and it bolted into the trees. The others were similarly fighting with their steads. The dragons opened their mouths and flames rushed towards the group.

  Shuree dived to the side, feeling the heat from the fire, smelling the scorched grass.

  Her pulse raced as she leapt back to her feet. Erhi had said the dragons lived further up the mountains.

  “Shuree, get back under the trees,” Dagar yelled.

  Everyone else had taken cover.

  The Gods had said to come here. They couldn’t leave. The other tribes were expecting them to be there.

  The dragons came around for a second pass. She knew little about the beasts. Some tales said they were intelligent creatures with their own society, but they might be as dumb as sheep for all she knew.

  How dare you! The voice reverberated in her mind and Shuree fell to her knees, clutching her head. We are nothing like sheep.

  Her mouth dropped open. Was the dragon speaking to her?

  Well, it’s not a sheep.

  She almost laughed, but the dragons were nearing her again, in formation ready to attack. Dagar and Vachir ran out from the trees. Vachir gripped her arm to pull her up and Dagar aimed his bow and arrow at the dragons. Shuree lunged at him. “No, don’t shoot them.” She pushed them back under the trees as the flames chased their feet.

  Her heart pounded. “Did anyone else hear them?”

  “Hear who?” Vachir asked.

  “The dragons. They spoke to me.” She scanned the others until she found Erhi. “You said they live higher in the mountains.”