The victorious, but bloodied Druzhina make their way into strange new lands where they will come into contact with new races, strange magics, and shady friends.

---

PRINCE KAZIMIR- CHAPTER 5

The Druzina rode northeast into the lands of the Ulic Clan after sending a pair of runners to Kazimir’s father to deliver the news of his warriors’ victory. Even though it would have been quicker and easier to ride home, the fact of the matter was that the Druzhina had a number of wounded, some of which needed more than simple rest. They needed healing, and only the mysterious shamans of the Ulic could provide the service.

There was another reason to ride into the lands of the Ulic. His small band of ragged warriors had taken a terrible gamble to be with him, and since they had defied their orders to ride south they would almost certainly have faced harsh discipline upon returning home. The Ulic owed no allegiance to Kalman, Kazimir’s father and the Hetman of his clan, and wouldn’t punish the Druzhina as deserters. There was also a chance that the Ulic hadn’t yet decided to join the other Rosomai in the impending war against the Sabalazmon and would lend their support against the Holischiky.

There was, of course, a snag. The Ulic were not always friendly, even to other Rosomai. They also had a reputation for treason stretching back to their ancient ancestor and first Hetman, Ulic, who according to legend betrayed the avatar of Udan, the sun god, in order to steal his power and bathe his realm in eternal springtime. As punishment, Udan had cursed this northern land with four months of icy, miserable darkness every year. Kazimir did not always put his trust in the creation stories, instead trying to judge others based on their conduct. Even so, the legend of Ulic’s betrayal stuck with him.

Kazimir and Tungai led the column of Druzhina into the evening before he caught a plume of smoke on the horizon. As they drew closer, he noticed a glimmer of strange blue light beneath the rising pall. It flickered like a campfire, but the amount of smoke and the color of the flame confused him. This was not the work of the Night Charioteer, whose green and blue whips could be seen far above the night sky during long winter nights. It was another, more earthly form of magic, and whoever had built the fire might have carried the ability to heal his warriors.

As they approached the flame, Kazimir stopped his horse as a strange figure reared in front of the blue fire. It was a humanoid, but not like any Kazimir had ever seen before. It stood considerably taller than any Rosomai he had seen and had majestic antlers branching out from its head, lending an awesome quality to the being. Kazimir thought that the creature had iridescent blue fur, but it was hard to ascertain its real color as the supernatural light of the magical bonfire bathed everything in its cerulean light. The humanoid also had large ears, though not nearly as large as its antlers. The ears curiously swiveled around atop its head. The creature turned its head, revealing a long, broad snout unlike any other humanoid Kazimir had encountered. It cast a discerning eye on Kazimir and Tungai.

“Rosomai. Why have you come?”

Kazimir was surprised to hear the creature speak his tongue so fluently.

“I seek passage to the seat of Clan Ulic, as well as healing and respite for my soldiers. How is it you speak our language?”

“Everyone has a calling in life. My calling involves the healing of your people. You must not be Ulic, or you would know this. Yet you are still Rosomai, and I know how to heal Rosomai.”

“Forgive me, shaman,” Kazimir spoke with deference. “You have me at a disadvantage. I have never seen your kind before.”

The humanoid finally stepped far enough out of the light so that Kazimir could see that it had a thick, brown coat of fur like the Rosomai, yet had a face much closer to that of a pony.

“I am Mauno, of the Hirvi.”

“I am Kazimir. You’re alone out here?”

“The Ulic tolerate my people because of our talents, so we live alongside them. I am here alone because this place is a holy shrine and as such must be maintained.”

“You said that you might be able to heal us. What would you want in return for this service?”

“I do not need any payment, but you must understand that in order to draw from the well of Aidensielu you must give something of yourself in return. This place is a fountain of life energy, but in order to draw this energy someone must volunteer part of their own willingly.”

“If I were to volunteer, what would happen to me?”

“You will fall into an immediate and profound torpor, which should diminish within the course of a day.”

Tungai grabbed Kazimir by the shoulder, “Kazimir! Don’t do this! You don’t know the intentions of this witch doctor. This magic… it is strange. Evil.”

“I have to, Tungai. These warriors have all given of themselves to see my idea brought into reality, and now I must give something back to them. Besides, you cannot force someone to do something that must be done willingly.”

Tungai nodded, stepping back. Mauno gestured to Kazimir.

“Very well. Bring the wounded near the pyre. Kazimir, is it? Stay by my side and follow my instructions.”

The Rosomai hesitantly approached the blue bonfire, laying their most broken warriors on the dry grass. Kazimir stepped forward, Mauno leading him toward the pyre. The Hirvi began chanting a sermon or consecration in a strange tongue, the blue flames swirling and convening into a vortex. It took on the quality of a vacuum, drawing in air, dust, and blades of grass. Where the fire once radiated heat, it now seemed to suck the warmth out of the air and out of Kazimir’s body.

“I have focused the elements! Before I complete the spell, you must lay your hands on the pyre!”

“What?” Kazimir swung towards the Hirvi mystic in disbelief. “That’s mad! I’ll be set ablaze!”

“The spell is in a volatile form! If you do not do as I ask, it could very well draw the lives out of your warriors!”

Kazimir looked at the glowing embers of the pyre, gradually inching his hands toward it. Rather than burning him, it seemed to pull the warmth from his hands, leaving him with an icy chill. He hesitated once, then twice. He thought about what Tungai had said. Could this creature really be trusted?

It didn’t matter. This wasn’t about trust. It was about the lives his warriors had gambled for him, and this was no different. He plunged his hands into the blue flame, laying his palms on the pyre.

At first, nothing seemed to happen, but in a matter of moments the blue flame swept over his body. He screamed more in fear than pain. Then he felt his throat contract again. The flame seemed to suck away his very energy, his shoulders growing heavy even as he tried to escape what seemed like certain immolation. The tightness in his throat and lungs got worse than it ever had before, and within a few moments he found himself unable to breathe. Mauno saw that something was wrong and ran over, the vortex of the spell spiraling wildly the moment he broke his concentration. Kazimir felt a hand wrap across his wrist, then turned to see Mauno laying his hand on the embers of the pyre. Kazimir never had a chance to make anything of this as he slipped into unconsciousness.

“This is the second time I’ve seen you collapse in public. One might start to believe that you’re anxious in crowds! Ha-ha!”

Kazimir gradually pierced the haze in his eyes to see Tungai leaning over him, his throaty laugh melting into a wide grin. He felt strangely exhausted in spite of the fact that he must have been asleep for quite some time. The familiar odor of a yurt filled the air, the smell of ponies, cooked meat, mare’s milk, and the unmistakable musk of the Rosomai themselves.

“How long have I been asleep?”

“For almost a full day.”

“How are the warriors?”

“That crazy magic actually seemed to work. I was hoping it would do more to heal my cuts, but every one of us survived the night and the wounded are on their feet again.”

“Of course the magic worked,” Another voice joined in. “It’s an ancient ritual, but potentially dangerous. You should have warned me about your curse, Kazimir.”

Kazimir turned to his left and caught the towering form of Mauno and his impressive antlers. He had removed his coat in the warm confines of the yurt and Kazimir could see a most peculiar network of blue glyphs and symbols in his fur, many of them the same color as the magical bonfire.

“Mauno. You should have told me about how dangerous the spell was.”

“You looked healthy, but I am simply a healer, not a mystic.”

“What happened after you took me by the wrist?” Kazimir managed to shake off some of the fatigue, sitting upright.

“I carried the spell through and gave it some of my life energy.”

Kazimir gave Mauno a look of genuine bafflement. What did this strange humanoid stand to gain from letting him live?

“Why? I’ve given you nothing, we’ve only just met.”

Mauno smiled, a peculiar thing on his peculiar face.

“Bravery and stupidity are common among your kind. What’s not so common is self-sacrifice, willingly giving something of yourself for a greater cause. I suppose I was curious.”

“Thank you, Mauno.” Kazimir turned to Tungai, clearing his throat, “Where are we, anyway?”

“Opaliye, the seat of the Ulic Clan. The Hetman granted us the use of these old yurts, but we practically had to buy his graces with all of our ivory!” Tungai got to his feet, dusting the earthen floor of the yurt off his tail and the seat of his pants. “These Ulic are not like us, Kazimir. We’ll all have to look out for each other while we are here.”

“Tungai, you could stand to be a bit more open-minded. We are fighting for all Rosomai, after all.”

“It took considerable restraint for me not to kill this witch doctor when it looked like he had deliberately set you on fire. I think I’ve had all the open-mindedness I can handle for now,” Tungai wrinkled his lip and turned his head towards Mauno. “I’m going to keep watch on the ponies before the locals try to make off with them. You should get something to eat, Kazimir.”

Tungai shuffled out of the yurt, stretched, and continued on his way. Kazimir turned to Mauno and shrugged.

“I’m sorry about him. I haven’t known him for very long, but he strikes me as being very traditional and loyal to his own, at the cost of being too judgmental on outsiders.”

“Don’t worry. Most Hirvi have to put up with fear and distrust quite regularly. That is the cost of our connection with the energies of Aidinsielu.”

“You said there were more Hirvi living in the lands of the Ulic. Where are they?”

“Never far from the Rosomai. Your people tend to get in a great number of fights. When you come limping home, we heal you, but not for free. Our people are poor warriors unlike you, so in exchange for our magic we take your protection and occasional payment, usually in grain or fodder.”

“Do you think that Tungai has a point? Are the Ulic a treacherous people?”

Mauno shrugged, “I wouldn’t know. I seldom meet any Rosomai outside of the clan. I suppose the Hetman is somewhat greedy, but it takes a firm taxman to keep things organized here. The lands are cold and dry, and four months of darkness do little for the livestock. If the Hetman takes from the people and from strangers, he gives it back when he gets every one of his soldiers and family, even himself, into the fields during the summer.”

A face poked into the doorway of the yurt, then disappeared.

“Hey! He’s awake! Prince Kazimir is awake!” The face reappeared, followed by a hand beckoning Kazimir forward. “Prince! It is good to see you back among the living. We have a feast set up in your honor!”

“A feast? Whew, I don’t know if I would be such good company. The effects of the spell still have me quite drained.”

“Come on, the night is cold and the food is warm! Some of the local females can keep you warm once the food is tucked away.”

A wry grin crept across Kazimir’s face, “Well, my appetite is gathering considerable momentum. Tell the Druzhina that I will be there in a matter of moments!”

Kazimir turned to Mauno, “Would you care to join us?”

Mauno shook his head, “No, thank you. We Hirvi can’t eat meat.”

Kazimir paused, puzzled again, “Wait. How do you survive, then?”

Mauno hastily explained himself, “Well, we’re herbivores. We eat grass, grain, flowers, and fruits…”

Kazimir laughed, “Like the livestock!”

“Yes, I suppose,” Mauno grumbled.

Kazimir ducked out of the yurt, plunging alone into the still, dark, icy night of an unfamiliar place. To him it was a galvanizing chill, spurring him into action towards the sounds and smells of festivities. To another, however, the stagnant air acted as a cloak, masking their scent as well as their malicious intent.