The Paladin Chronicles Book bundle 1-4 by Neil Port - HTML preview

Everyone laughed uproariously at that, Jacinta attempting to shout over the top, "That's not what I said!" She settled for throwing a grape at Akhilleus who was curled up on the ground laughing.

"Seriously," he said, sitting up again to continue. "Without Jacinta I would not have got out of there alive. She's clever and quick and brave. And all I want to say in front of all here is … 'Jacinta, will you marry me? I'll keep house while you can do all the fighting. "

Jacinta was struggling to reach her laughing friend to hit him, while some of the boys held her back. Proteus was shouting out, "You can't! Akhilleus is mine!" as he blew Akhilleus a pretend kiss.

As Jacinta gave up and sat down laughing, Hermokrates appeared at her elbow. She wasn't used to seeing the old drill master in a relaxed mood. She somehow never thought of him as anything other than a stern weapon's master.

"Do you think you have recovered, Jacinta?" he asked softly.

"I'm not upset or scared anymore, sir," Jacinta replied after thinking for a moment. "I still feel embarrassed about my behaviour afterwards. I doubt Akhilleus has told everyone just how upset I became. I'm embarrassed by all the fuss about being some sort of heroine, I don't deserve that. But recovered? I don't think that's the word.

"Something like that changes you. Deep down I feel kind of, well, sad, I guess. Not sad for those men. They thought they could do horrible things to people … just because they could. Well, they don't think that anymore." She gave a cruel smile. "Sad mostly for myself, and because the sort of things that have to be done."

"You'd be wasting your sympathy on that sort," Hermokrates agreed. "As for feeling ashamed of yourself, I have sources other than Akhilleus, you know. No one who was there thinks you have anything to be ashamed of.

"You're a remarkable young girl, Jacinta. We face some desperate times, but don't try to throw your humanity away. That's what makes fighting worthwhile. Now, will you listen to me? I'm talking to you as if you're twenty-three, not thirteen!

"I think you could become the best warrior I've ever trained. Not the strongest, though you're quick and strong for a girl your age, but you use your brains in the middle of a fight and don't let emotion cloud your judgement.

"I especially liked the way you got those men to underestimate you."

"Yes," Akhilleus piped in. "One of the men said he thought Jacinta was a sweet, gentle girl. I won't tell you what he said about her when he found out just how wrong he was!"

Jacinta laughed, but felt a stab of pain remembering what she had done to that same man. Hermokrates saw it hit her and waited. Akhilleus looked across, the smile dropping from his face. She had thought he was too busy with his audience of boys to notice. He must be watching her without seeming to, despite all his clowning.

And then he was off again. "Now where was I? Oh I see. I noticed them watching my thighs so I bent over and showed my bum to distract them while Jacinta grabbed the fishing knife. It had about a three-inch blade so I knew she didn't want it for a weapon. Maybe she hoped to do some fishing after we had dealt with the six men …"

She shook her head. She never realised Akhilleus could be such a clown, when he got over his shyness. He was always in Aison's shadow.

Hermokrates chuckled and nodded towards Akhilleus. "I suppose we all deal with the stress differently. I've never seen him quite like that."

Jacinta smiled fondly at her friend's antics. "What he said of freezing, it wasn't true. It was only for a moment, and then he was fine. He faced two armed men with that silly make-shift spear. He finished them, killing one and almost killing the other and then came to help me. I was lucky it was him with me, I wouldn't be alive otherwise, so don't believe his crap."

Hermokrates nodded. "I'm proud of both of you. Akhilleus always was a fine young man. I'm giving him his own squad and recommending him for officer (lochagos) training. I haven't told him yet. His family don't have the money."

Hermokrates lowered his voice conspiratorially. "It so happens I know a wealthy Warlord who knows how to arrange certain 'things'." He chuckled as Jacinta smiled and blushed. "It's not just because he helped you. He warrants it. I wish I had more like him.

"I suppose you realise I had to explain to a certain number of know-all puffed-up drill- sergeants who keep telling me I'm past it, how one of my boys and a novice girl, unarmed, beat six pirates who were fully armed and ready. How you killed four and disabled two.

"I told them it's one of my special training secrets. They asked me what it was and I said I couldn't tell them. It was a secret!" Hermokrates chuckled as he relished the memory.

Hermokrates may be old, but Jacinta couldn't imagine anyone saying he was past his usefulness, except in jest.

"I used what you taught me, sir, it saved my life."

"Now Jacinta, you're far too nice a girl to lie to an old soldier. I have a detailed description from Akhilleus. You used what your father taught you. But it is nice of you to say so and it was nice to put some young puffed-up young roosters in their place.

"Oh, and I will make you second in charge of Akhilleus's squad as soon as can I organise it. That's not bad at all for your age and size after only a few weeks. Those stupid Athēnai don't think women can be warriors. We will show them."

Jacinta was overcome. Hermokrates grinned at her.

"Thank you, sir. You honour me greatly," she managed in a husky voice, blushing furiously. "I will never give you cause to regret it." She said, echoing the words of her father.

Hermokrates had given her a great honour but it was also a great challenge. She would have to become even more determined and hardworking. But just then her strongest reaction was feeling guilty about how her heart leapt at the chance to be with Akhilleus.

But she didn't feel too guilty

 

 

Chapter 9: Amateur Comedians, Seléne's Task, Treason and a Fleet Sails

It was the calm before the storm, the great breath before the leap, the time of waiting.

Elena was standing on the balcony of the citadel and looking out over the Aegean. She was drinking in the beauty of a perfect spring morning.

The beauty of the harbour of old Elvish Troia was legendary, but it would have to be beautiful indeed to match the Greek city of the same name on a day such as this.

In the warmth of the sun, the sea had a clarity and sparkle that called to her to swim. It reflected a sky of clear turquoise-blue. In the far distance the sharp eyes of the elf could pick out a pod of dolphins playing in the water.

The large harbour spread out below and east of the fortress-city. It was well sheltered by the headland and great break wall. Even today it was crowded with craft, frantic in what little time remained. The docks were busy with men loading and unloading. A few of the Troian and Aiol warships were patrolling but most of the fleet had been sent south.

Looking north across the entrance to the Hellespontos strait she could see the peninsula of Thráki, faint in the distance. To the west and a little north was turbulence where the currents of the Hellespontos met the Aegean.

The Troian fortress on the bluff could be windy but today it was perfectly calm and sunny.

A few clouds drifted lazily across a sky of pastel blue. The heavens complementing the beauty and majesty of the sea.

Gulls and other sea birds called to each other with music all of their own, or they followed fishing boats in great wheeling flocks. To the east she could just make out a large flock of the great white storks in their majestic slow flight. With their vast wingspan they could glide endlessly on the heated air rising up from the land.

After wintering in Africa they were now making their way north to nest.

To see the storks in flight or to see their great nests, was a sight never to be missed and never to be forgotten. Out further there were flocks of terns, each bird so small the flock looked more like swarming insects in the distance.

Anatolē, the middle land, was a crossroads for human travellers – but for birds it was a crossroads of a different kind. Every spring and autumn the skies were filled with feathered adventurers firstly on their way north and later going south for the winter.

The Earth Mother was showing her beauty to both human and elf. She seemingly gave little thought to the calamity approaching the beleaguered city, but that was not so. The Great Mother laboured to send her children a message of a love that transcended their anguish.

Jacinta had come in search of her mother but the morning was so beautiful that the pair settled to lean out in companionable silence. To watch in silence was something elves could naturally do and Jacinta had learnt; to absorb and be absorbed by the beauty of the moment.

* * *

It was the same morning, and time was weighing on the mind of Hakeem and Leandros who were looking over the city. The frantic military last-minute preparations were all but finished and they could turn their minds to the problem of refugees.

Hakeem didn't expect a long siege and Troia was well constructed with deep wells, cisterns and granaries, but even so, it had its limits. Many a siege was broken by a flood of refugees coming to the city overwhelming its resources. The defenders often were caught between making the cruel, heartbreaking choice of barring the gates or allowing non-combatants inside the city to starve.

Hakeem would not let that happen here. Nor would he allow the attackers plunder from the countryside. The villages and the city were being progressively cleaned out, some to the mountains, most to the south.

"Three months is more than enough," Hakeem was telling Leandros.

"You're sure you can defeat the Athēnai in that time?"

"My Lord, I'm expecting it to take third of that or less, but I want to be cautious. Is there anything you feel we have missed in our preparations?" he asked anxiously.

"Please don't explain any more of your thousand and one back-up plans or I'll lose track of everything," Leandros begged, smiling affectionately at his young friend. "Sometimes you make my head spin.

"It's a lot of work for 'just in case'."

Hakeem said nothing. He was running over some more back-up plans in his mind.

Freed of the expense of a large army, Helios and Cyron would care for the refugees but he still had to force an exodus, and there would be a lot of suffering.

"We are going to start to get very unpopular soon. Add to that the clearing of the buildings near the city walls." Leandros sighed. "I guess I am a bit tired, of the waiting I mean. Let's seek out Elena and Jacinta, if she's not down on the practice field. I feel the need for some pleasant company today."

Hakeem looked at Leandros with concern. The Troian king always seemed so strong. Hakeem sometimes forgot he was an old man. He had never seen him look so gloomy.

* * *

Leandros had recovered his good mood by the time he and Hakeem found Elena and Jacinta staring out together over the ocean.

Hakeem had enough time to appreciate the beautiful morning, but even with all his training, his mind kept drifting back to the sounds of the fortress preparing for war. There was the hammering of the construction of catapults and last-minute fortifications. He heard the shouting of men, the creaking of harness and clatter of hooves. He imagined the various supplies arriving and could catalogue much of it. Not all of it weapons – small animals, food, oil and even rocks.

"Can we do this thing?" Elena asked her husband quietly. She had never seen Hakeem so preoccupied before. There seemed to be so many plans and thousands of tiny details that only he seemed to understand.

Hakeem nodded. "Of course, we can, we will."

"My father, Great King, please excuse any rudeness, but the preparations puzzle me," Jacinta started.

No one would explain the preparations. They didn't make sense. How could she learn if Hakeem didn't explain?

"You are my apprentice," Hakeem smiled generously, echoing her thoughts. "I command you to speak your mind." He turned to Leandros. "With the permission of our lord Leandros, of course, speak plainly."

Leandros nodded and smiled to Jacinta. He would enjoy hearing the girl's comments.

"Well, great teacher and father of mine, I will try." She paused for a moment, at a bit of a loss as how to say it.

"It would be unseemly for me to contradict the great faith you have in yourself father, but do you really know what you are doing?"

It was not how she wanted to put it, especially in front of the Troian king, but how else could she say it? She had tried hard not to trouble herself with the bigger picture but it was impossible.

The defenders were badly outnumbered and faced with two powerful opponents. People were frightened. They hardly talked of anything else but the coming war and yet the preparations she could see …

Hakeem laughed. "Of course I don't know what I'm doing! What on earth do I know about naval battles and amphibious landings? Or defence of a city under siege for that matter? How could I? All this is my first time." He turned to Leandros. "Are you convinced what a monumental folly it was to put me in charge, my Lord?"

Leandros clapped Hakeem firmly on the shoulder and chuckled. "I didn't think it was possible to do such a terrible job. I would have relieved you of your position long ago, if I could have only stopped laughing long enough.

"Jacinta though, your father and I feel hurt that you seem to be unimpressed with our efforts. Could anything be possibly wrong, by any chance?"

Jacinta pouted at the two amateur comedians. "Well, my Lord and my Father. I hope you will be still laughing when our enemies arrive. There is something I'm missing, but I don't know what.

"You have prepared very well for an attack overland but you yourself say this is not likely to come soon. Philippos will not risk moving here with enemies unfought at his rear. He needs to take Bithynia first and then move on to Mysia in force to secure his supply lines. With the Bithynians in the hinterland and the sizable elf force watching the forests he'll need a bigger army for that."

She lowered her voice at a signal from Leandros and continued more quietly. "You have dismissed the bulk of the navy to Aiolía. You have all but emptied Troia of the best troops. We only have a century of horsemen and three hundred elves, one thousand crack troops and two thousand old veterans, as if you are only making a show of defending Troia. You have split your forces and they are spread too thin.

"I would expect an attack will come straight here, to the docks. You have built up on the heights closer to the gates but your preparations at the docks themselves are abominable!" She lowered her voice as she realised she was talking louder.

"There must be a thousand ways you could have done it better. The only good thing you have done is to clear them. That great wooden fort you have built, they'll simply set it on fire and those small stone towers, what use could they be?

"The only earthworks in the docks area is up against the cliff. And what were those people doing on the docks in the dark under those covers?"

Leandros was impressed. "Jacinta, you are very good. I wish I had employed you instead of this great fool you have for a father!"

Jacinta tried to ignore the teasing and continued in a whisper. "It's as if you are issuing an invitation to the Athēnai to invade. They will land in the centre of the docks but once they have the docks, they can fortify and supply themselves from the sea. They will be impossible to dislodge."

Hakeem was smiling broadly. He spoke very softly so they could not be overheard.

"Jacinta, I'm afraid you're right.

"Oh dear, I've done it all wrong! I see it now. We'll, it's far too late to fix it. We'll just have to manage as best we can with this mess I've created.

"It seems we will have some unwanted guests any day now. But don't worry about the forts. You can't see it but each have underground escape tunnels if, or perhaps when, the Athēnai realise they are carrying fire arrows on their ships. Do you think the Athēnai may underestimate us and think we are not ready?"

"No, I don't think that at all! I think the Athēnai will correctly estimate our state of un-readiness. And why all those tents and blankets?"

"Just in case they're needed, of course!" Hakeem replied. "We wouldn't want the Athēnai to come all this way and not feel welcome, would we? I was really hoping they might surrender. That would be rather nice, don't you think?"

"Surrender?" Jacinta was incredulous; her voice started rising before she realised and lowered it again. "Surrender to your army of grandfathers and a few small boys? Why on earth would they do that?"

Hakeem tried to look hurt. "I thought I'd ask them. They are really nice people, you know. We will be ever so polite. It's not a bad thing we aren't too ready. After all we wouldn't want to hurt them too much, now would we, Lord?" Hakeem asked of Leandros.

"No, of course not, that wouldn't do at all," Leandros agreed heartily.

"They are your enemies and you don't want to hurt them too much." Jacinta could not believe what she was hearing. "Are you mad?"

"Well, if they change their minds and they help us with the Makedónes we want them to be in good shape, don't we?" Hakeem explained reasonably.

"Yes of course," agreed Leandros. "We want the Athēnai in good shape!"

Jacinta paused and repeated what she was hearing very slowly. "The Athēnai will come all this way to kill us and plunder the city, but as soon as they arrive and find us unprepared, they will see the error of their ways and join our hopeless fight against a massive and unstoppable army.

"Are you and the war council eating herbs?" she asked, trying to stop her voice going higher.

"Rather neat, don't you think?" Leandros was trying to suppress a chuckle as he looked at Jacinta hopefully.

I should have known better, Jacinta thought. No one would tell her the truth and all they do is tease.

"I suppose you know about some of the fishing boats," Elena whispered softly.

Hakeem replied softly so they couldn't be overheard. "Like the one with the four men in it?"

Elena smiled. "You know about them, then. One of the men seems to spend more time drawing and taking notes than fishing."

Leandros shook his head sadly. "I do wish they wouldn't make it so obvious. Agathon is really very good with his drawings. I do hope you get a chance to meet him some day and see some of them.

"They are watched by the other spies, of course. What they do is extremely dangerous. They spy on us and give the Athēnai invaluable information, confirmed by others."

"So they are enemy spies? Why don't you arrest them?" Jacinta asked.

"Oh, we wouldn't want to do that, would we?" Leandros seemed surprised at the suggestion. "How would the Athēnai get their information if we arrested their spies? Those are the best agents the Athēnai have. They should be, we give them most of their information.

"And when they travel to Athēnai, they spy for us. They are really on our side. At least I think they are … It's all so confusing, really," Leandros said, scratching his beard. "Perhaps they get confused themselves. I doubt it, though. They are amongst the greatest patriots I have and very brave men. I fear they will only leave some rich widows and orphans in the end. As I said, what they do is very dangerous."

"So, you want the Athēnai to come here," Jacinta concluded. "What then? They will fall out of their boats laughing at us and drown?"

Hakeem motioned to keep her voice down as he chuckled. "Perhaps they will be surprised."

Well, Jacinta thought, they will certainly be surprised … to find us so poorly prepared!

Hakeem looked relaxed and confident but in truth he had to use his training to slow his mind from endlessly churning over every eventuality. What if the Athēnai were smarter or better prepared than he expected? What if they landed on the beaches? What if they had more ladders, or are better prepared?

He planned to "invite" a large enemy army to attack an undermanned fortress and rely on the fortifications and a number of clever surprises to beat them. He hoped to capture them and enlist at least a few of these reluctant enemies to his cause. He would release the rest with an oath they would not fight Troia again.

It couldn't be all that difficult … now, could it?

Unfortunately, Hakeem didn't know that there was a dreadful flaw in his planning. It was something so obvious he should have seen it.

The defence of Troia was destined to go wrong; horribly and terribly wrong.

* * *

"There is someone I would like you to meet," Demosthenes said. The man that entered was dressed as a Troian. He had concealed his face by a hat pulled low and a scarf over his nose, as if to guard against dust. He smelt of fish.

"Tell the General what you have seen," Demosthenes encouraged.

"Well sirs," the man spoke softly. "The Troians have appointed the desert Warlord to defend Troia. Their allies have not sent enough troops. Helios sent only six thousand and then went home, cancelling his levy. Why, I don't know. Most of those have been moved to forward bases to counteract the threat from the Makedónes. Everyone knows the Makedónes will be reinforced soon and then they will attack in force.

"There were rumours about elves and tribesmen. I'm sure you have heard them, as have I. Only a handful of either has arrived. I suspect no one is prepared to pay the mercenaries and talk of an elf army was just that, talk.

"The Warlord has emptied Troia and the Troian plain of all its wealth, food, supplies and people and sent it all south. He has few troops and has had to empty Troia itself of troops to prepare for the Makedóne advance. My guess is he hopes to buy time so he can get more troops – where from, I don't know. At the same time, he doesn't expect to win a naval battle so he has pulled his main navy back to Aiolía.

"I think he hopes the fortress may protect itself or maybe he is willing to let it fall and will fight the main battle nearer Aiolía. That's where he can get more men and that's where they beat the Troians in the last war.

"So Troia itself is only defended by three thousand troops. But two thousands of those are too old or too young. There are not much more than a few hundred archers and a century or more of horsemen (for all the good horses do in a siege, apart from being food).

"He knows nothing about defending a city against a siege. He has cleared the docks area but then he has constructed a huge wooden fort there, of all things! There are eight small stone towers with roofs, odd things they are, but they are only big enough for maybe twelve archers each and that's not the only strange thing he's doing.

"Apparently he refuses to tell anyone what he plans, I'm surprised Leandros puts up with him, but I hear he's Helios's man. The Troians are not happy at all, let me tell you. His fortifications are useless, Troia is wide open. It would be simplicity itself to take the docks and lay siege to the city."

In his surprise, Chares forgot himself. "Has this been confirmed?" he said, even before the man was fully shown out.

Demosthenes smiled and nodded. "Now we need to be quiet about this, Leandros has an excellent spy network. Order some practice exercises for the army and the navy. Leave Phokion to me, I've warned him again and again but when has he listened? People are ready to turn against him. It's best he is out of the firing line now, for his own safety. Can you be ready?"

Chares nodded. "I'll begin now, best we move quickly. Will Phokion cause trouble?"

Demosthenes shook his head. "He'll stand aside. He won't like it, but he'll always support his people." He trembled with excitement, now the time had come.

* * *

Now his preparations were all but complete, Hakeem was overseeing the training of the garrison. He loved to teach and knew how to get the best out of men who could not be expected to train like men half their age. None who met him doubted his competence. The army was unbending in its support for the Warlord.

But the merchants of Troia were a very different proposition and the town council was almost united in its opposition. They felt Troia had no chance and should surrender while they could do so on good terms.

At first, they accused Hakeem of incompetence but increasingly there were rumours that Hakeem deliberately meant to abandon Troia and they were hard to squash. Where was the great force of elves or tribesmen that they had been promised? They had not been paraded through the city so most didn't believe they ever came.

The impression the allies tried to give their enemies was having an effect on civilian morale that had become dangerous. The opponents to the war were starting to become more strident, more vocal, and more daring.

The most vocal of all was Apollo, Aison's grandfather.

Apollo's family had been set upon and killed as they fled a provincial city in the last war. Only Aison, who was visiting with his grandfather had remained alive. Apollo didn't accept that it was more likely Troian deserters during the last war but, strangely, the loss of his family was not the main reason for his opposition.

He simply did not believe kings and their generals cared for civilians in their wars. His demand was simple. Don't just ask for trust; explain to us what you are doing.

But Apollo was the very last person Leandros was likely to take into his confidence.

Spies are planted, or enlisted or bought or obtained through extortion.

Having spies in the palace was an obvious thing to do. Having a spy in one of the foremost commercial households was far more clever. It was something Leandros himself would do.

Apollo would have been horrified to find out that his most trusted aide was an Attik spy, or that Leandros had his own spies amongst his servants. Many of his activities and conversations were reported both in Athēnai and behind closed doors in the citadel.

For Leandros, Apollo had already talked treason. The only reason he didn't arrest him was because he was a useful magnet for the disaffected. Leandros found it more valuable to know who his enemies were.

The task of reassuring the townsfolk fell to Leandros and his Troian commanders. That they could not reveal specifics put them in an impossible position. The townsfolk were fed up with appeals for trust and loyalty. It looked like Hakeem and Leandros had miscalculated. Things were going to get out of hand amongst the civilian population and the time for this was rapidly approaching.

* * *

The citizens of Troia couldn't know what had happened a few weeks ago in the far city of Elgard.

King Cyron was alone in his audience chamber with his daughter, Princess Seléne. They were waiting for the senior priestess of the temple of the Great Earth Mother.

Cyron looked troubled and weary. Seléne was standing at his right hand. She looked tired and pale, almost gaunt. She was barely sixteen but her experience with Nikan was taking a terrible toll on her health. Cyron was desperately worried about his daughter, but nothing he could do or say helped.

Over the last few days Cyron was troubled with awful dreams involving Seléne and his family. He was used to war, but not this sort of waiting so far away from it; was it only that? He was about to summon the Holy Mother to explain his dreams but he was surprised to find the ancient priestess petitioning for an audience instead.

It was not only with himself but also his daughter. So, Cyron and his daughter were waiting for her, but they weren't talking amongst themselves, they had run out of things to say to each other.

Finally, the Great Reverent Mother, Astrior, hobbled in. She was bent with age and rested her weight heavily on a staff. Her hair was white and she let it float free. A fraction behind her walked a tiny, red-haired elf-girl looking frightened and shy.

"Old crone, you bring me a small child," King Cyron observed dryly.

"Yes," the ancient priestess replied calmly, in reference to the small girl. "This is Sophie. She is nine years old and our greatest seeress."

"Great King, Princess." Sophie bowed solemnly.

She had pretty features and long red hair. She was small for an elf and stood almost huddled into herself, head down.

"I am pleased to meet you Sophie," Cyron replied turning his attention to her. "I have not heard of you before."

Sophie flashed a furtive glance at the king and then looked back at the floor. Her eyes were the startling green colour common with elves. "Because of my age, the Holy Mother does not allow me to serve the oracle. But I have received a dire message of warning. So, I asked permission to speak with you. I know you are troubled by dreams and were about to summon our Holy Mother."

Cyron was too stunned to reply. No one knew that! Most so-called seers would need to hear why they had been summoned.

The tiny elf continued, her voice was that of a small child but her words were not.

"You see Troia from afar, burning. You dream of Lord Hakeem dead of many wounds at the entrance to the citadel of Troia. You dream of our Queen Elena and Lady Jacinta fighting for their lives in a lonely place besieged by strangers.

"And finally, you dream of Princess Seléne riding a horse in haste with a small troop of elves."

Cyron was astounded. This girl was the most gifted seer of the age.

"My King and my Princess!" Sophie lifted her head to look them in the eye, as she delivered the message she had come to give. "Troia is doomed. The three named in prophecy are destined to die."

She paused; her audience was in shock.

"Only Seléne can change this. That is the meaning of your dream."

Cyron's complexion turned grey. In that moment, the Great Elf King showed all of his years.

"You say Seléne must ride into danger as well?" he gasped.

"No, great Lord, Seléne has a special task. If she does not go to Troia, Troia will fall."

"I will send more troops!" Cyron shouted in a fury, pounding his fist on the throne's armrest.

Sophie bowed her head low and her voice became almost inaudible. She seemed to shrink. "Please don't be angry with me, Lord."

The ancient priestess limped closer to the small girl and took her arm.

Cyron realised he was frightening the timid elf. He looked at her kindly. "I'm sorry, Sophie. I didn't mean to shout at you."

The old priestess went to usher Sophie out but she resisted.

"Is there more?" Cyron asked.

"I don't want to anger anyone," Sophie whispered, frightened.

"Tell us child, you have my promise I will not get angry. Why must I send all of my family to the defence of that far-away place, why must I spend even the last of my daughters?"

"Father," Seléne said, talking for the first time. "I will go to Troia."

Sophie looked up at the king and Seléne. "You do not understand, my King. It is not an army that will save Troia now.

"The defence of the city against the armies of men is the task given to the Lord Hakeem. He must do so with the force he has. Whether he succeeds or fails is not decided. If he fails, he will die defending Troia and his wife and daughter will remain with him.

"But it is not just armies that the alliance of elves and humans are to face. If you send more troops they will not succeed. They will end fighting the people of the city and all will be lost."

"So I will go to Troia, young seeress of the great Goddess," Seléne spoke gently to the girl. "But what weapon will I bear? I have no magic, I am no warrior. Will I go to my death?"

"Princess, to foretell the future requires great strain and I am at my limit. Soon I must rest." The small elf was almost drooping now with exhaustion.

"The very rumour of your arrival will do much to those that are losing heart. Your love is what you will take with you, it is beyond any price. "

"Then that is a poor bargain!" Seléne spat angrily. She shocked herself to sound so bitter.

"I'm sorry Sophie, but you don't know what you ask. I would give all I have for Elena, Hakeem and my friend, Jacinta, but my heart is dead."

"Princess, please stay your rage at me. I know of what you speak. I know what your brother did."

Seléne laughed humourlessly. "My half-brother, you mean? He left me with no honour, if that's what you mean, but that I can bear.

"I was there when they killed him, but I never loved him and that I too can tolerate.

"He left me with fear and nightmares. That, one day, might heal.

"But what I didn't know, what I could never have guessed, was that every time he touched me in his foul way, every time his eyes were upon me, he planted poison … deep in my very soul.

"I am totally spoilt. My heart is empty of all love and joy. I look at my body and I only see an object of disgust.

His hand is upon me still!" Seléne cried out in anguish, tears running freely down her cheeks. "I will never be free of him!"

She clenched her fists in anger at her weakness.

"Great Lady, I offer no hope for this. I can only say that although you don't realise it, the Mother Goddess favours you. What Nikan did was something done to you and you resisted, even though all hope was gone. It is not something you need feel shamed you.

"As to your heart and courage, it is still there, though you yourself find it hard to feel. Your loved ones and the people of Troia will have great need of both before this is ended.

"It is not just your sister that has a great task. Without you, there can be no hope for what is already upon us and what is to come.

"You asked if you would die. While I cannot see all, I do not see your death. But I'm sorry; winter will not come to this land again before someone you love with all your heart is destined to die.

"After that, it is you that must somehow find the strength to go on. If you don't, all is lost and all our hopes will fail … no, it is not your father, I'm sorry I must rest ..."

Sophie slouched in a faint. The ancient priestess barely caught her in time. She held her awkwardly while one of Cyron's men rushed to help.

As the soldier carried the semi-conscious child into a room and the priestess hobbled afterwards to attend to her, Cyron turned to his beloved daughter.

"And so, I'm asked to risk all I love; all my family, even you, my heart.

"Return to me, Seléne, I couldn't bear you dying. I fear my kingdom; all the elves will fall without you.

"Elena, Jacinta, Hakeem and Héctor have already gone, must I lose everything?"

"Sophie made me realise I have been wasting my time brooding." Seléne gave her father a smile at once tender yet sad and determined. "She knew that about me. How can such a small child be so wise? Whatever damage Nikan has done is done.

"Keep courage, Father, we need you. Elena and I are true daughters of your house and we are strong. We have Hakeem and Uncle Héctor. They won't let anything happen to us.

"The war is not decided but I think they'll find us not so easy to defeat.

"Even Jacinta, even though she is a child, is one of the three prophesied.

"We will return, don't fear, though one of us won't." She paused, pale and in anguish for a moment, and then with a great effort took a breath and drew herself up. "I would prefer it was me but it is war, I cannot be too surprised.

"Still, it hurts deeply; please tell no one else about that. The prospect of doing something, anything, makes me feel better. Though I don't know what I can do! Apparently, though, I too have an important task. Please thank Sophie for me."

As Seléne kissed and hugged her father he regained his heart.

"You're right, our enemies are making a grave mistake if they hope to come against my family," he said with a grim smile. "I love you and am proud of you, both of my daughters, and of Hakeem and Jacinta as if they were my own."

There was one of his family that Cyron did not name. He had guessed who it was that would not return.

Seléne left to get ready. She would go in secret. But she wondered … what can I do that an army cannot? What weapon do I bear?

Love, Sophie said. It is the gift you will carry. It seemed so strange. What could the love she had for her family do when armies and nations marched to war? It seemed such a small thing.

Well, for her family, for Elena, for Jacinta and for Hakeem she would walk through fiery coals, she would gallop into hell itself! She would even put aside this cancer that Nikan had infected her with that was gnawing at her soul.

And so, she would ride to war! She couldn't see her love had value. Yet she would go. A sixteen-year-old girl. She was needed. Though how, she didn't know.

"I'm coming," she whispered. "I don't know what I can do, but please hold on, I'm coming."

* * *

As the storm clouds of war continued to gather around the defenders of Troia, Seléne and her small escort had already left the lands of their kindred, the Western Elves and raced towards the Lydian city of Sardeis. Her heart was on fire with fear for her family and friends as she rode.

Everywhere Seléne went, she saw men and women preparing for war.

* * *

Jacinta didn't know about the desperate ride of her friend to the besieged city.

It was the third weeks now since the episode with the Skythoi and the gloom settling over the city was weighing her down. It was Sunday and she was trying to look forward to joining her friends.

It would be the first time that Aison was able to join them again on their rest day. When Aison returned to training earlier in the week, he seemed distracted and rarely smiled. It seemed the general fear and despair affecting the city was getting to them all.

When he eventually came to fetch her from the practice grounds he was in the strangest of moods, he hardly talked to her or looked at her. She felt hurt, but couldn't think of what she might have done.

The despair and fear hanging over the city was turning to anger. Even amongst some of Hermokrates's pupils she could feel the growing fear and anger. They were to be soldiers. They should have known better.

Today, the mood of the city frightened her as they moved through it. She had never been in a city besieged before. She couldn't see how the small garrison could fight civil unrest if it started as well as the enemy without.

The boys had decided to meet not far from the barracks and move through the city in a group. People rarely wanted to walk through the city alone anymore.

When they joined the rest, Aison seemed to dismiss her and walked a little ahead with two or three other boys.

Akhilleus walked next to her. "I'm sorry, Jacinta. Aison had a fight with his grandfather over you. Just give him some time to sort things out."

Jacinta's heart sank. Apollo opposed her father and now he was against her. What could she do?

She enjoyed the guilty pleasure of having Akhilleus to herself and tried to turn her thoughts away from Aison and the war.

It took no imagination to realise Akhilleus still had feelings for her. He followed her around like a puppy whenever Aison was not around. Jacinta hoped that if she gave Akhilleus her undivided attention it might make Aison jealous. But she hadn't sorted out her feelings for Akhilleus and it felt like she was falling for him more and more.

He still kept a reserve around her because of Aison. He was right, but it made it harder to sort out her feelings towards him. It was all so frustrating! Would it have been simpler if she had met him first?

It was a hot day, and they all had hoped to go for a swim, but when they got to the Eastern Gate they found it barred. A corporal and his men had closed both the gates "By order of the Warlord ".

It would re-open tomorrow.

There were sounds of people crying and shouting beyond the gate, and her friends climbed up to the parapets to try to see what was happening. They had to wait till they were allowed to the top. Jacinta held back. She sat on a lower step, miserable and frightened. Akhilleus waited silently with her.

She heard the people above angry and arguing loudly. She heard Aison complaining that the Warlord didn't explain anything, echoing his grandfather, she knew. Akhilleus glanced at her in concern. They both guessed what the problem was.

The people had been given warning, their homes should never have been so close to the walls but it was their homes and had been for generations.

Jacinta could hear men and women screaming their anger and children crying. Outside, she could hear the decadarchos (sergeant) shouting orders. He tried to reassure them with talk of compensation.

Jacinta could imagine the scene as a large army contingent moved relentlessly through the dwellings forcibly evicting all who resisted. She could picture the women and children frightened, the old people moving slowly, bewildered, the men impotent in their anger.

She got up to leave. Any idea of a sunny day swimming with friends had completely gone. Some of the boys from another group hurried to block her way. She looked at them and the people watching her with a surge of fear.

One of the more vocal boys, Zephyros, the second in another group, called out loudly, "Everyone is leaving. Jacinta! When will you and your mother be leaving us?"

"We are staying," Jacinta said quietly.

She was trapped; she had left it too late to leave and a crowd of boys and onlookers had gathered around to see the confrontation.

"Do you expect us to believe that?" he challenged loudly. Many in the crowd murmured in agreement.

"I don't lie," said Jacinta softly.

Just then Aison leapt down the intervening steps to confront her.

"Did you see what your father's doing? This is people's homes!"

"No one takes pleasure from this," Jacinta replied angrily. "But the city is preparing for a siege. By the Gods! You blame my father for this? Who let people build so close to the walls?"

"Do you know I argued with my grandfather over you?" Aison replied, equally angry. "I even shouted at him! But he's right. You and your father don't care about people. It's all some game to you, you're going to let this city fall but not before everyone suffers."

Jacinta said nothing.

"Did you know all my family died in the last war?" Aison said in anguish.

"Aison, I'm truly sorry," Jacinta said evenly. "If you and your grandfather don't want to be involved in this war, there would be no shame. Your family has already given so much. But there are people coming here who want to take what is not theirs. The defenders of this city are pledged to stop them."

"Tell us then how your father is planning to do that," Aison challenged her with a cruel smile. "Tell us all now!" he demanded.

There were angry voices of agreement from the crowd.

The moment had arrived.

Jacinta felt an icy feeling of dread grip her stomach. The bystanders crowded around to hear what answers she might give. She was the daughter of Hakeem and the elf queen. She would know.

"So where are the reinforcements?" Zephyros demanded, moving up to sneer at her.

Jacinta stood her ground. "I cannot answer," she said loudly, firmly. "My father doesn't tell me his plan but I'll tell you this. I believe my father when he says he will win, no matter how it seems now."

"That's just not good enough! What will happen if your father fails?"

"Then my family and I will stand here and we'll die here with him. We will not leave. You may go if you like."

Most of the boys and the onlookers were silenced by this, but Zephyros didn't believe her. He shouted back. "Easy to say, you and your mother will escape, leaving the rest of us behind."

Jacinta looked at him calmly. She raised her voice clearly for all to hear. "You have heard our promise. If it is our fate to die, then we will die. I am not afraid to die, but my father says Troia will not fall."

"You believe him because he is your father."

"No I don't. I believe him because I know him and I've seen him fight. Also, he does not lie. All the others who have pledged to defend your city, they also don't lie."

"But what if it can't be done? Don't we have a right to know? Don't we have a right to make our own minds up about our chances?" queried Aison. "You must know something about the reinforcements. Where are they? My grandfather has served Troia faithfully. If Troia is to fall, he deserves to be told. Tell us what you know!"

Jacinta could give no reassurance. "I don't think we should discuss this," she said firmly.

"You must tell!" one of the boys she didn't know well demanded. "We have a right to know!"

"You do not!" Jacinta yelled in sudden outrage. "Novices you may be, but remember that you are soldiers of King Leandros. You have no right to demand the Generals tell you their plans. Keep your courage!" That was all she would say to them.

"Now you listen to me!" Aison was getting angrier. "You pretend to be my friend. I thought you liked me, even loved me. If you do, you will tell me. If not, we will not let you leave till you tell us."

Jacinta was surrounded. She stood there, tears welling in her eyes. "So, that is all my friendship means to you, does it, Aison? You will force me to betray my father?"

"Relax, Jacinta, it won't be your fault. After all, you can't fight us all, can you?" Aison said, reasonably.

Jacinta stood, a small and lonely figure with tears running down her cheeks. She wiped her eyes and cleared her vision, getting herself ready. "I will try. If that's all being a friend means to you, then let it be so."

Jacinta looked miserable and alone, but brave. The bystanders showed no sign of intervening or calling the guard, who was not too far away.

That in itself was terrifying.

Then Akhilleus moved to stand beside her.

"She doesn't have to fight you alone. No one will hurt Jacinta while I'm around. You know, Aison, I once admired you, I thought of you as my friend."

Another of the senior boys also came up to stand next to Jacinta. Soon there was Jacinta with five supporters against Aison and his larger number.

As soon as it looked like it would really come to a fight, Aison backed down. "Alright, curse you all, have your own way." He stalked off in disgust, followed by some of his supporters.

Jacinta thanked each of the boys that had stood with her. She wanted to leave before something else happened, or worse, she started crying. Akhilleus insisted on escorting her back to the citadel.

On her way back, for the first time in Troia, she felt exposed and frightened.

She watched people warily as she passed. But as she stared at them, they began staring back at her.

It was terrifying.

She no longer knew the face of the enemy. It could be a stranger or former friend. It was good to have Akhilleus by her side.

When Jacinta got back to the palace, she laid her hands on Akhilleus's shoulders and looked deeply into his face. She kissed him slowly and firmly on the lips but as she thanked him she was struggling for self-control and, without a further word, had to turn and run.

Timo saw Jacinta come in and understood with a glance something very serious had happened. Jacinta stumbled, blinded by tears to her bedroom, where she sat on her bed and hugged the maid who was also her friend, and cried.

* * *

Next day, as he walked into the training camp, Hermokrates could sense something was seriously wrong.

It was unusually quiet. Some of the boys looked at him guiltily but most avoided his gaze.

"Where is Jacinta?" he asked one of the boys.

"I don't know, sir," one of the boys said, looking uncomfortable "Akhilleus may know, he walked back with her from the wall. There was a fight between her and Aison yesterday,".

Hermokrates caught sight of Akhilleus, who looked grim as he moved around helping with the training.

"Get on with your training!" Hermokrates growled as he spun around and hurried to the citadel. He knew Akhilleus secretly had a crush on Jacinta too, perhaps that was behind it. A lovers' quarrel was no excuse for absenting herself.

He wished that was all, but his heart felt cold with fear. That would not be enough to stop Jacinta. He knew how tense things were becoming in Troia. Please, let it not be that!

As he was shown in to see Jacinta he could tell the girl had been crying and hadn't slept. Her maid Timo hovered close by.

"Sir, I have decided to help my mother who is doing some important research," Jacinta sniffed, her voice uneven.

"Am I to believe that is all that's happening?"

Jacinta blushed crimson, she wouldn't meet his gaze. "I wish you would, sir."

"Did anyone touch you in a bad way or try to force you?"

"Nothing like that, sir," Jacinta said, quickly looking up.

"No, I know you could handle that. Do you wish to lodge a complaint? Anything you want to tell me?"

Jacinta simply shook her head.

"And you won't return to training?"

"Sir, I can't! Not for a while. I'm very sorry. I'll practise all you've shown me."

"I'm sorry too, Jacinta." Hermokrates decided to leave it at that for the moment.

As he returned to the practice yards, he felt Aison's eyes upon him. He had known Jacinta and Aison were going together. They were good students and a good match. What had happened?

He took Aison aside.

"So she told you everything, has she?" Aison asked bitterly.

"I need to hear your side," Hermokrates replied levelly.

"So, she ran to you! Whatever she told you is true," Aison started. "I ... and my friends shouldn't have threatened her but we have a right to know. If Troia is to fall, we have a right to know."

Hermokrates looked at him in horror. Not this!

"How many were you?" he said, trying to keep the shock from his voice.

"Eight others, she offered to fight us all!" Aison's voice held a note of respect. "But then others stood by her. I don't think I would have hurt her but I got carried away, I was angry. I thought she liked me."

Then Aison saw the look on Hermokrates face. Hermokrates, for a moment, looked aged, defeated. "What have you done, Aison? No wonder Jacinta would tell me nothing."

Then fury overcame him. "So, you have a right to know, do you? You have a right to know because your grandfather is an important man? You utter fool!

"Has your grandfather put you up to this? I will have the names, all the names!"

The colour drained from Aison's face. "Sir, it's my fault. My grandfather had nothing to do with it. The other boys were following my lead. I shouldn't have threatened Jacinta, I didn't think of who she is, with her parents and all."

"Didn't you? Do you know who she really is? Do you really expect the elves or the tribesmen to leave Troia undefended while Jacinta is here … or Queen Elena? Would they let Hakeem fail, do you think?"

Aison was in shock. "Jacinta – you talk as if she is just as important as her parents. She's a wonderful girl but she's an adopted orphan, she's a Gypsy."

"Well, you obviously know everything!" Hermokrates spat in fury. "Is that your attitude? She's a charity case? You and that cursed grandfather of yours.

"Now listen to me. Jacinta never acts like she is anything special, I doubt she even thinks of herself in that way, but to the tribesmen she is the next paladin. Do you have any idea at all what a paladin is to the tribesmen? They are sent by their God! Did you know that?

"And to the elves, don't you know the prophecy? ..."

Aison just stared.

"Jacinta never talks about herself but she is 'the daughter', you idiot. She is one of the most important people to the elves in more than two thousand years!" Hermokrates shouted in rage.

"You thought your grandfather is so important and no one can touch you. You are nothing compared to her! Your grandfather, for all his supposed importance, he and all his friends put together, you and all your friends put together … are nothing!

"I'll tell you what you really are. You are just a common soldier and not even that yet. You are a soldier who disobeyed your king's orders; a soldier who plotted to get secret information. You are a soldier who offered violence to the daughter of the Warlord and the Elf Queen with odds of your nine against her one.

"Why? Because you are a coward. You were asked to face whatever is to come. That was all that was asked of you.

"And you thought you could offer violence to one young girl, because there were nine of you and you thought she was just a girl and just a Gypsy orphan. You had no idea who she really was; well, how important are you now?

"If I could, I would keep this secret. I liked you, but you shame me!" Hermokrates spat on the ground. "I don't care what happens to you now. I'm more worried if you and your friends are hung, what effect this will have on morale."

Aison had turned almost white.

Hung?

He was starting to realise the enormity of what he had done and just who Jacinta really was.

Hermokrates called his boys together and sorted out the conspirators, by which time some officers from the city guard had arrived to take them away. Classes were dismissed for the rest of the week.

Then he grimly made his way to request a private audience with King Leandros.

* * *

It was the morning of the fourth day since the incident, and Apollo waited near the centre of the king's audience chamber for his grandson to be brought forth. At first he was furious that his grandson would be called to account for threatening a Gypsy orphan, but it slowly began to dawn on him just how much trouble his grandson really was in.

Eight other boys led by Aison had cornered the girl and threatened to attack her if she didn't tell all she knew. Didn't they know this was against King Leandros's express orders? This was treason!

She had offered to stand alone against all of them and had to be rescued by another group of boys. Jacinta always acted like she was of no importance but it was slowly dawning on everyone just how important she was.

Leandros loudly let it be known that Cyron had referred to her as his 'granddaughter', hence accepting her adoption. He emphasised she was the daughter of both Hakeem and Elena and reminded everyone of her special significance to not only the elves but also the tribesmen.

Most there had heard stories of her courage and loyalty. The incident with the Skythoi (Skythians) meant she had a growing number of admirers, even amongst the young Troian men, let alone some of the more independent Troian women.

This whole shameful incident had seriously damaged the support of Apollo's faction. Rumour was that the Warlord himself wanted to personally interview the boys but the king had intervened to judge the case.

* * *

Aison was led before the king. He saw his grandfather standing to one side looking old and worried. The elf queen sat to the left of Leandros's throne. She was wearing a soft dress of elvish make, light and colourful. Her blond silky hair showed off a complexion that was inhumanly fair.

Aison could not be but struck by her impossible beauty but when he gazed at her, she fixed him with a cold stare that struck fear into him. The stern figure of the Warlord sat by her, silent and angry.

And there was Jacinta, standing near them. She looked as if she had hardly slept or eaten for days. Her eyes were red from crying.

Leandros looked at him sternly. "Young man, do you know what you are charged with?"

"No Lord, but I know what I did and I know it was wrong. It was completely my fault. Don't blame my grandfather or the others. I must have been seized by a temporary madness. Let all here know I am willing to face whatever I must face according to your judgement, great Lord."

Leandros smiled. "Bravely said, young man! You're accused of offering violence to the daughter of the Warlord. Is this true?"

"Yes lord! It was my fault, totally."

Leandros raised his hand. "Please don't prolong your reply, young man. A simple yes or no is what I require. In case you haven't noticed, I have more important matters to attend to other than you. I am only involved because Hakeem asked me as a favour to rule on this case. I want to finish this quickly."

A chill went through Aison, just how unimportant he was. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his grandfather stiffen.

"Now, do you admit you are in love with Jacinta?"

Aison was confused, what sort of question was this? "Yes Lord!"

"And you were angry with her because you felt she didn't love you enough."

Aison blushed scarlet. "Yes, that's how I felt. But ..."

Leandros turned to Jacinta. "Jacinta, I believe that you and Aison were lovers and this was mainly a lover's quarrel, am I correct?"

"Yes sir," Jacinta said very faintly. Then she raised her voice. "Er, yes sir! But we never … er, you know."

again Leandros raised his hand for silence. "Thank you for your honesty, Jacinta. While it is important for the ruler to know most of what happens in his kingdom, there are some things I don't need to know."

The audience burst out laughing. Jacinta felt she was melting into the floor in humiliation. She bowed her head, turning deep crimson; she could hardly see through tears.

"I have decided to rely on the evidence from Jacinta and Aison as all else is third hand. I find this is a lovers' quarrel.

"I am extremely disappointed in you, young man." He turned to Aison. "You should be ashamed of yourself, threatening a young girl with a group of your friends.

"You have three days to leave the city and will be banished for a period of one month. If you return within this period you will be put to death. No further charges will be laid against you in this matter and provided you do not offend again in a period of two years; no stain will be held against you in the future. As for your co-conspirators, they will suffer the same punishment.

"Do my Lord Hakeem and my Lady Elena agree with this?"

Elena gave a signal to Hakeem and he nodded. "We do, Lord, and let none say different!"

"You are dismissed, don't appear before me again," Leandros said to Aison.

Aison was in shock. He stood there, lost, till his grandfather came forward and pulled him bodily away.

"My boy!" Apollo said as he got his grandson outside. "I thought I had lost you. I was told you were to be charged with treason. How could you get involved with that Gypsy slut?"

"Please Grandfather, don't call her that. She lied to save my life by calling it a lovers' quarrel. It will make it hard for her to have friends now."

"Nonetheless, boy, you're not to get involved with her again. She's caused you enough trouble. There's that girl, what's her name?"

"Psykhe?"

"Well, she likes you and she comes from a good family. I want you to spend time with her. Give me any more trouble and I'll arrange a betrothal, a lot of families would be falling over themselves to get one of their daughters married to you … No, I'm serious!"

"Grandfather, wait!" Aison stopped, thunderstruck.

He caught his grandfather's hand and turned to him excitedly. "Her parents and our king must have known the truth. Do you notice, I wasn't allowed to say anything? I'm to be sent away … The whole trial was staged!

"They don't want any troublemakers around till this waiting is over. But the king only allowed a month. Do you realise what that means? The Athēnai will be here any day!"

"Those bastards," Apollo growled as he realised. "They know exactly what's happening. Well, they must tell us now. Let's get you home. There's a lot to do and little time … Was that Gypsy wretch involved in staging this?"

"Jacinta? No, no one can act like that. She really does love me. But do you see how quick she was?

"She picked it up from the king straight away. That last remark about us not making love was perfect. It cost her badly, but I think she said it on purpose.

"She's no fool. Everyone will know what really happened, but now they won't care. All they will remember is her saying that. She's such a wonderful girl, Grandfather!"

"In any case, I forbid you to have anything more to do with her. She has caused you enough trouble," Apollo said firmly.

Aison just smiled, thinking of how wonderful Jacinta was.

He wished he had kissed her when he had the chance.

* * *

Peiraieús (Piraeus)

Peiraieús, the main port city of Attika, was the greatest port in all the Hellás.

It had a history, like Athēnai, dating back thousands of years, but with the rise of Athenian naval power it had been fortified, its swamps drained and great ship-building and storage sheds constructed. It was now a massive port complex.

It had been destroyed by the Spartans almost a century before but it had long been rebuilt. Its fortifications, even the great long walls linking it to the main city so far away, had been repaired.

And as Apollo stood with Aison in the sun discussing the meaning of the king's verdict, it was as they guessed. The Athēnai were readying their fleet to sail.

They had assembled their men in great camps around the port city. They had launched their ships into the harbour and were consumed by the hundred and one last minute tasks.

For the great Greek warships, the triēris (triremes), speed and manoeuvrability are everything. They have square sails that allow them to rest the sailors especially when they have fair seas and a following wind, but they are always rowed in battle.

Unlike commercial trading ships they are made of light wood so they need to be dry-berthed or beached regularly to prevent water-logging and attack by small sea creatures. The main harbour of Peiraieús alone could store almost four hundred triēris in sheds above the water line, with slipways attached.

But today Athēnai could only muster a hundred of the sleek warships. Added to this were the transports and four of the new "super warships" which had the same three rows of rowers, like seats rising outwards in the theatre, but were broader in the middle to allow two men to man the central oars, and a full deck with space for catapults.

A few score transports were still to join them from the minor harbours of Peiraieús and the other sea port at Phaleron.

Even so, a hundred warships and maybe a hundred transports was a magnificent sight. Pericles couldn't help but feel a fierce surge of pride as he saw them.

"Well, brother," Neros said sourly as he joined him. "Take a good look. If we lose, it will be the last great act of the once proud Athēnai."

"We are not going to lose," Pericles laughed at his older brother. "Troia has not recovered from their last war and their allies have deserted them. All we have to do is arrive and they will open the gates for us."

Neros laughed and ruffled his brother's hair and clamped him on the shoulder.

"Well, little brother, with confidence like yours, we don't need the rest of our troops. You can do it alone.

"But who are we capturing it for? I hear Elis is promised to be governor of Troia. Surely he can't think the Makedónes will let us keep it, once they know we have fooled them, and does no one else remember that Troia are our friends, and not the Makedónes?

"They arrested Phokion. They want us gone, all who are loyal to him, while they sentence him."

Pericles nodded, his mood spoilt.

Neros sighed. "Sorry, little brother. Come, Elis is going to address the troops. If he says anything again about a chance to redeem ourselves after losing at Chaeronea, I swear I will shove my spear up his kolos!"

 

 

Chapter 10: Time Running Out, and Timo in Love

That evening Elena and Hakeem were grabbing a few precious moments together, standing on the battlements of the citadel overlooking the sea. The sun had mostly set and the evening was stealing slowly over land and sea.

"I think of Helénē so much," Elena was saying. "I'm named after her, you know. She was a daughter of Priamos, the last elf king of Troia. Her name means 'shining' in our ancient tongue. It is because she was said to be the most beautiful woman in the world. Do you know she also married a human of peasant stock, Paris, one of her father's greatest generals? She named him 'Alaksandu', meaning 'our defender' in the ancient tongue. It's so like our story.

"Helénē saw her husband killed outside the gates of the city. When Troia fell, her children were murdered in front of her and she was taken as a slave back to Greece, like some great prize.

"She never gave up and died in prison. The Greeks claimed she was a wife of the king of Sparta that had run away. I think they were guilty at what they had done; she was a princess after all.

"I feel so much like her now," Elena said softly; she was shuddering and Hakeem held her in his strong arms. "I trust you. I love you. But I have an awful feeling, Hakeem. I'm not like this normally, but I'm frightened.

"I keep getting a premonition of disaster. Something is going to go terribly wrong, so many will die. I keep dreaming of a great battle. I hear horrible screams and see a great fire just like when Agamémnonas razed holy Troia.

"I know this is the Greek city, not the elf city, but somehow it feels the same. You don't know what it's like to be an elf and to be in Troia with it all happening again. And now they are coming, I can feel it in the wind. There are so many of them, Hakeem, and so few of us.

"Oh Troia! Holy Troia! Ilion of old!" she cried out. "Will you to fall again?"

She turned to look at Hakeem. "Can you do this thing, my love?"

"Can I do this thing?" Hakeem replied. "Now, when it comes to it, I don't know.

"Leandros keeps consulting some seeress. She still says the outcome of the battle is not decided, but she sees the city as from a great distance, burning. If she's right, even if we do win, it will be a desperate fight. I have this feeling, something is at the back of my mind. I'm missing something, something will go wrong.

"Perhaps you should leave, you and Jacinta," Hakeem finished.

Elena shook her head. "I won't leave you, and if you think you can send that daughter of ours away, you're dreaming. You promised her you would never do that again.

"No, we are safer with you. And something else tells me we must stay. These are my people too, now. Everyone here is so frightened; if Jacinta and I leave I think it will all fall apart. Troia will be lost before the Athēnai arrive.

"Just keep us safe, Hakeem."

"You are like Helénē," Hakeem murmured. "You are so full of courage and you are the most beautiful woman in the world."

"Oh, love. We hardly see each other. We are so busy.

"Make love to me, Hakeem," she said it softly.

"Do we have time? We have an official dinner and then I have a meeting till late."

Elena smiled at her handsome tribesman and ran her fingers lightly over his broad chest. "It won't take long to get ready for dinner."

Hakeem gathered his beautiful wife in his arms and carried her inside, placing her gently on the bed and smiling down at her.

She put her arms around his neck and kissed him. "We get so little time. If we win, as soon as it is safe, Jacinta and I have to resume the search for the ruins of the ancient city, and you have to gallop off to fight the Makedónes. When will there be time for us, Hakeem? Just us, together?"

"I don't know, Elena," Hakeem said softly. "I love you so much but don't worry, our love is destined. The world has been waiting for thousands of years for the two of us."

Elena's musical laughter rang out as she kissed her handsome tribesman. "If the world has been waiting so long for us as lovers, it must be mighty disappointed. We hardly have time for anything!"

Elena and Hakeem had a lingering kiss and were holding each other tenderly on Elena's bed, staring at each other. They were talking softly and Elena had tears of happiness and love gathered in her eyes.

"We have half of an hour before dinner," Hakeem reminded her, smiling tenderly. "I only take half of that to get ready."

"Now what do you think we can do in only a quarter of an hour or so?" Elena enquired innocently, smiling at her husband.

Just then, Jacinta called out from outside, asking if she could come to talk to them.

Elena and Hakeem exchanged a look of pure irony. Elena sighed and called their daughter in.

Jacinta threw herself on the bed. "I found it! Mother, Father, I found it! "She took a deep breath. "It was brown and very old, in a pile of old parchments that had been shoved to one side. I just had a feeling about that pile."

She could hardly contain her excitement.

"We have a map at last. I can't read it, but at least we have a map. One of Leander's scribes is copying it for us now."

"That's wonderful!" Elena and Hakeem said in unison.

Elena's eyes were sparkling. A map of Elvish Troia. They could locate the catacombs. How they could ever find the book Elena had no idea, but a map!

Jacinta rolled on her back, relaxing in the closeness of the three of them on the bed. "We don't get a lot of time together, just the three of us, do we?" she said pensively.

"I especially miss the great respect you have for your father," Hakeem said chuckling. "'Father, I hate to contradict that great faith you have in yourself,"' Hakeem said, mimicking Jacinta, and started to gently tickle her.

"'They will fall out of their boats laughing,"' Elena added, laughing, and gently tickling her daughter. Soon the three were breathlessly giggling and wrestling together.

Jacinta abruptly stopped. She looked thoughtful. "You weren't doing anything before I came in, were you?"

"Just talking, honey," Elena said, smiling.

Hakeem gave his daughter a fond smile and nodded.

"Normally you talk in the sitting room, don't you?" Jacinta asked suspiciously. She had a picture of them chatting while Hakeem sipped his tea.

"Well, we were talking here," Elena replied, smiling serenely.

"You don't get much time together do you, just the two of you?"

"No, we don't, honey," said Elena wistfully.

"Oh!" said Jacinta, in shocked recognition.

She jumped off their bed as if she had been stung.

Suddenly she was in a hurry. "I'm sorry to burst in like I did. Don't worry if you're late or something I'll give your apologies, I'll say you had to … er … I must bathe beforehand!"

Hakeem looked at the flustered girl. He couldn't help but be amused. "You bathed earlier."

"I really need to get something to eat. I'm starving," Jacinta said desperately.

"Before dinner?" enquired Elena with a chuckle.

"I must go," Jacinta said, deeply blushing, stuck for what to say. It wasn't often Jacinta was stuck for something to say.

"Jacinta!" Elena called, stopping her at the door. Jacinta waited, looking thoroughly embarrassed. "Have we told you today how much we love you?"

Hakeem added, "And Jacinta, thank you."

Jacinta gave them a wonderful smile and was gone.

"You know," Hakeem said, "I could have sworn we were perfectly discreet."

Elena laughed. "What are our chances of fooling Jacinta, of all people?"

A short time later, it didn't seem to be so important. They had each other. But one thing they wanted, they couldn't have … more time.

Time for Troia was running out.

* * *

Timo, Jacinta's maid, was seventeen. She claimed to be an experienced woman and teased Jacinta endlessly over her inexperience with boys.

Jacinta's chance to turn the tables on her boastful friend came sooner than she expected.

The Kares (Karians) had sent one of their elite phalanxes (a hundred and fifty men) of heavy hoplitai to aid in the coming war. It was only a symbolic gesture but one very deeply appreciated.

The Karians traditionally held themselves aloof from Greek affairs. Now all the great cities of the Aegean coast of Anatolē were united behind the war effort.

The Karians were a very ancient tribe, famous as mercenaries and sailors. In ancient times they had traded with the Pelasgoí, Phoiníkē, Aígyptoi and even the Mykēnai but they were always staunch and loyal allies of the elves. They had somehow endured while huge empires around them rose and fell.

Their two great maritime cities H'alikarnassós (for a time under Greek control) and ancient Milētos lie to the south on the Aegean coast of Anatolē and are amongst the best fortress-cities on the Aegean, well protected from land assaults by their mountainous hinterland.

The Karian Lokhagos (captain) had reported to Leandros and Hakeem and then he requested an audience with the Elvish Queen.

Elena wearily agreed. It was scarcely likely to be about trade or a military alliance.

She was sick of being treated as some exotic curiosity by visitors to the court. As he was effectively an ambassador of an ally, she resigned herself to a visit by another low-ranking bore who wanted to boast he had personally met the Elf Queen.

She had begged Jacinta to request an afternoon off training so she could have some female support in the approaching ordeal. Elena seated herself in the Troian queen's throne room to keep the meeting formal but when Lukhsu strode in with his aide and both men fell to one knee in salute, she was pleasantly surprised.

Karians were famous for their colourful armour and Lukhsu was no exception. He wore a polished gold-coloured cuirass made to look like a muscular chest over a leather vest. His helmet had a crest holding neatly trimmed red feathers running from front to back setting off a red cloak and a richly dyed and patterned kilt.

"Great Queen!" he announced in fluent Greek. He took a papyrus document and a present from his aide and presented them both to Elena. "I give you these with the compliments of my king, Maussolus, who wants to convey his best wishes to you and your august father."

Elena read the document from the monarch. It was exceedingly polite, affirming the ancient connection between the elves and his people and the wish for the good relations to continue. The present was an exquisite emerald brooch, set in gold.

It was so touching. The Karians still honoured their ancient connection to the elves. Elena felt ashamed that she had thought so ill of his visit.

"Please tell your king that the friendship the Karians showed our western kin has never been forgotten by us … and the gift is very beautiful," Elena replied with a smile, very pleased.

Jacinta was standing back with the maids and Timo whispered to her, "Look at him ... no, the corporal, he seems nice."

Jacinta looked at the aide who hung back a little from his captain. He looked well enough in uniform, probably in his twenties. A bit thin for her taste, and so serious looking! Bookish, she suspected. He must have seen Timo looking at him because he risked a look in her direction. Jacinta found them both blushing and avoiding each other's gaze.

He and Timo were just as shy as one another.

Revenge! Yes, please! Jacinta smiled in anticipation.

"I'll see what I can do," Jacinta whispered. Timo gave Jacinta a panicked look. She tried to put a restraining hand on Jacinta's arm, but Jacinta deftly disentangled herself and approached her mother.

"Captain Lukhsu, can I present my daughter, Lady Jacinta?" Elena murmured as Jacinta came closer.

Lukhsu favoured Jacinta with a broad smile. "I am pleased to meet you, young lady. Your reputation has reached as far as the court at 'Alikarnassós. Though I must say you are younger and prettier than described. May I present my man, Nomion?"

After acknowledging the corporal, Jacinta bent close to her mother to whisper in her ear. Elena looked at her in surprise; was Jacinta interested in the captain? No, he was too old … yet entertaining them would be a pleasant way to pass a few hours.

"Captain, I wonder if you would do me the honour of allowing me to show you and your aide around the citadel."

"I can also show you the markets, if you wish," Jacinta added helpfully. "You may both want to buy a gift for a wife or sweetheart, if you have one. I can help arrange sending them."

Lukhsu smiled and shook his head. "Thank you, Jacinta, but neither Nomion nor I have had time for female companions, our careers have kept us too busy. Perhaps another day for the markets, but it would be an honour to be shown around the citadel."

"I'll ask my maid, Timo, to accompany Nomion at a suitable distance. So you two can talk privately," Jacinta offered as Elena and Lukhsu started off.

Elena was puzzled by what her daughter was organising, but then she turned her attention to Lukhsu. The Karians had selected one of their finest young men for what was in effect a military ambassador. He was suitably charming and well bred.

Before the queen and the captain had a chance to get too far ahead, Jacinta took Nomion aside. "You know the elf protocols for these sorts of visits, don't you?"

Nomion nodded gravely.

She was sure he didn't, as she was just about to make them up.

"Lukhsu is to accompany the Queen as the ambassador of your king. You, as his second man, must accompany her maid. Follow behind our body guards.

"Timo and you need to create a good impression on each other, because you become representatives of your master and her mistress. This is for obvious diplomatic reasons. I'm sure you understand."

Timo looked frightened and had a pleading look on her face, which Jacinta pretended not to see. Nomion gravely nodded his understanding.

If it made any sense to him, Jacinta would have been very surprised. It made no sense whatsoever to her.

Nomion politely gestured for Timo to follow him.

"Is that how you take a lady's hand?" Jacinta asked coldly.

Nomion flushed. "P-Please forgive me, Timo. I'm not much used to the company of gentle ladies. I'd be grateful for your instruction, if this is not a breach of protocol."

Jacinta saw a look of satisfaction appear on Timo's face before she hurried to catch up with Elena and Lukhsu.

That wasn't at all what she had planned for her boastful friend!

Her mother and Lukhsu were discussing one of the latest Greek tragic plays.

Oh, no! She would be forced to listen to that.

* * *

It should have been a pleasant sunny afternoon to be walking the battlements. Elena and Lukhsu were in deep conversation over unknown Greek plays and poetry and their interpretation. Back from them, Timo and Nomion were laughing together and talking happily as they strolled behind.

Jacinta was caught in the middle, going almost mad with boredom.

She groaned as she saw Timo and Nomion enjoying each other's company. Timo would be insufferable now!

Without her realising it, her mother noted the direction of Jacinta's gaze, and her look of frustration. So that was it. Jacinta was trying to embarrass her maid. Elena frowned in disapproval.

Lukhsu leaned over and studied the docks for a long while after which he directed his next remark to Jacinta. "I think your father plans a surprise for our Attik friends but for the life of me, I can't see what he plans to do."

"Nor do I, sir. When I ask, he won't tell me," Jacinta acknowledged with exasperation.

"I suspect he will have his chance to show us fairly soon." Lukhsu sighed.

A small group of boys waved to Jacinta from the street.

Their voices calling, " 'Amazon! 'Amazon! 'Amazon!" could be heard carrying faintly across the distance. Jacinta waved back, smiling broadly.

Lukhsu looked in surprise at Jacinta. "Are those boys insulting you, Jacinta? We Karians honour our female warriors, but amongst the Greeks they are treated like poison, except for the Spartans of course!"

Jacinta laughed and shook her head. "No, that's what the Skythian pirates called me." In response to the look of interest, she said, "One of the boys and I were captured by some pirates but we managed to get away." She blushed slightly.

"You were lucky!" Lukhsu said with approval. "I heard something about that, but why didn't the pirates chase you?"

"Why don't you tell the captain why the pirates didn't chase you, Jacinta?" Elena said, smiling sweetly at her daughter.

Jacinta reddened further and Lukhsu watched her with interest. "I heard something about two children capturing pirates. Was that you? I wasn't sure to believe it to be honest."

"Well don't!" Jacinta replied, annoyed. "We never tried to capture the pirates."

"So why didn't they chase you?" Lukhsu asked.

"Well," Jacinta coughed. "There were only two pirates and they were injured."

Lukhsu looked puzzled. "I heard there were six. I heard you were both unarmed and nothing about any of them being injured."

"Oh," Jacinta waved vaguely, she was blushing furiously under her tan. "There were six and it's not true at all that I wasn't armed. I picked up one of those small fishing knives from their boat without them seeing me. When the first pirate chased me he didn't expect me to cut his throat, so it was a surprise to him you see.

"After that I found a pole but when the second pirate came at me with a fishing gaffe he didn't realise I could use a pole as a weapon, nor did his friends. I was able to poke him in the face and quickly cut his throat while they stood back and watched, expecting him to win."

"A man with a fishing gaffe against a girl with a pole." Lukhsu nodded solemnly. "I'm sure he was … er, surprised … to have his throat cut."

"That's what I mean, Kyrie (lord) Lochagos!" Jacinta agreed enthusiastically, warming to the topic. "People make too much of it. When the four that were left came at me and my friend, they had a bow and three sabres. I had my pole and my friend, Akhilleus, had straightened out the fishing gaffe to make a spear."

"You were two children with a wooden pole and a spear made out of a fishing gaffe against four well-armed men?" Lukhsu asked softly.

"Yes, we expected to die," Jacinta admitted. "People make out like we were some sort of heroes. We weren't, we were just two children trying to get away. We were lucky." Jacinta looked at her feet, embarrassed.

"I see," Lukhsu said gravely. "Your part in all this has obviously been greatly exaggerated."

Jacinta looked up and flashed him a grateful smile. He understood!

"They told me the leader was Palacus. He raided near Halicarnassus. You don't mean to tell me you beat Palacus in single combat with a little fishing knife?" Lukhsu looked carefully at the girl.

"I didn't know who he was," Jacinta almost whined with frustration. "I made him chase me and made him think I was scared; well I was scared. I mean, I made him think all I'd do is try to get away. Then I tripped him and jumped on his back, it was the advantage of surprise."

Before Lukhsu had a chance to respond to that, there was a sound of angry shouting behind them. "Don't you dare call Jacinta a liar!" Timo marched off angrily to their quarters, her head held up, ignoring Nomion's attempts to call her back.

Nomion hurried up, white faced and distressed, to Elena. "I'm sorry great Queen. She misunderstood. I didn't mean to say your daughter was a liar; I merely said the story about the pirates was hard to believe."

"The story didn't just come from my daughter," Elena said coldly. "It came from an eye witness and a naval officer. It was confirmed by the surviving pirates themselves."

Nomion looked at Lukhsu. "My Lord, I have failed. Jacinta explained about the elf protocol in these matters. I have offended the Queen."

"The elf protocol, I see," Elena considered, casting a sideways look at her daughter who was trying to hide behind Lukhsu. "Is that your only concern?"

"No, Lady. I was enjoying her company, if I may be so bold as to say so. You see, I'm not very skilled around women."

Elena couldn't suppress a smile at the confession.

Not very skilled around women? Really?

"Flowers," she suggested. "Timo likes flowers. Be at our quarters two hours after dawn tomorrow. I don't promise anything, but I will talk to Timo. I'm sure Jacinta won't mind doing Timo's work for the day."

Jacinta looked at her mother in horror. Of course she minded doing a maid's work for a day! What other punishments had her mother planned for her?

Meanwhile, Nomion was talking. "Will you, great Lady?" He looked at her with gratitude.

"Now, you two gentlemen really have to excuse us, Jacinta and I find we have some matters to discuss, don't we, daughter of mine?"

* * *

A thoroughly chastened Jacinta returned to her quarters to give her apologies to Timo. She found her maid gloomy and red eyed.

"I don't think he meant it that way," Timo admitted miserably. "And now I've ruined everything!"

"Thanks for sticking up for me," Jacinta said. "Though, after a talk with my mother I don't think I'm at all worth it. I didn't really mean to 'play god with people's lives' or 'be cruel for my own amusement'. I'm sorry, Timo, how does tomorrow sound?"

"What for?" Timo asked listlessly.

"Why, your next date, of course. Nomion is picking you up two hours after dawn to take you for a walk and a picnic. I can't come, I suddenly find I have work to do but you have the day off."

Timo gave a small whoop of joy and then she sat back on the couch deflated. "But I can't!"

"Why not?" Jacinta asked, puzzled. "You're free and you want to go. He has permission from Lukhsu."

"I haven't forgiven him yet," Timo replied.

You haven't forgiven him yet. Jacinta thought dully.

"Did he tell you that he has been assigned to something really dangerous with the war almost upon us?"

"Is that true?" Timo asked, looking frightened.

"No, it's not," Jacinta said. "But we are in the middle of a war so don't be stupid. If something might make you happy, grab it with both hands. None of us know what tomorrow might bring."

Timo looked a bit unsure. Then her face gave way to a slow smile of delight.

 

 

Chapter 11: Seléne's Ride, Sisters of the Oracle and Ominous Portents

Héctor burst out of the tent when he heard that his young niece had arrived. What on earth was she doing here? A war was just about to start!

But when he saw Seléne trotting her horse into his camp with the captain of her escort, all thoughts of scolding her disappeared. She jumped down and threw herself in his arms.

"Oh Seléne! It does me good to see you. Better than I can tell," he said, hugging the young elf and stroking her hair. "But what are you doing here in the middle of a war?"

Seléne kissed her uncle. "Uncle, I don't know!" She shook her head, smiling helplessly.

She told him of the visit of the priestess and the small elf who was also a seeress. She burst into tears when she told him about one of her family dying. Héctor crushed her young form to him and comforted her.

"Seléne, Seléne, I'm sorry. People die in war."

"But U-Uncle y-you know what it means!"

"Of course I do, darling."

The fate of the three was tied to their tasks and the outcome was not decided, so it was not them. It was not her or her father. That left one person.

"Seléne, I'm a soldier. It's the life I have chosen. For someone to tell me I will keep fighting till I fall in battle comes as no surprise. I always thought it would be so.

"What else is there for me? I've never married.

"You know I love you and your sister as my own. Of course, I don't want to leave you. I want to see you both have children, but do you see me retiring?

"No, this is better. I'm still strong.

"Now that I know, I will be careful. When my time comes, I will sell my life dearly. If the Goddess allows I will die with a sword in my hand, facing the enemy."

Seléne was an elf. Death for the elves is not the end. She would see Héctor again, just not in this lifetime. Yet Seléne was also only sixteen. She needed her uncle. She would always need him. She clung to her beloved uncle and sobbed for a long time.

Héctor took her into his tent and tucked her in bed as he used to when she was small, and sat with her, stroking her hair till she had cried herself out. Then they sat talking quietly for a while. He was already bringing his troops closer to the city now that the attack would be coming to the docks. He would now escort Seléne personally the extra distance to see her safely to the city.

He also gave her a message to give to Elena after he was dead, which set her crying again. Finally Seléne slept, exhausted. Héctor stayed awake, thinking for a long time.

He would have liked to see Seléne married. He wanted to see both his nieces have children and see the children grow up. He wanted to see peace return for the elves and whatever curse that had plagued them, defeated. But as he had said, what else was there for him if peace came?

A long time ago there was a woman Héctor fell deeply in love with. They never spoke of it, but she must have known. She was older than him and pledged to another, but she was one of those special women who have so much room in their heart that she could love all those around her. He had adored her.

She had died in childbirth but before she died, she had asked him to watch over her only child, a daughter. And he had, but when Elena's mother died, a part of Héctor had died with her.

There had been no other woman for him. He made serving his brother and the kingdom his life. He wanted the kingdom to be strong for what he knew was coming.

He hoped it was not in Troia that he would fall. His troops would be joining the city late. If he died there, that would mean the fighting had carried inside Troia itself. It would mean things were going terribly wrong.

Well, it couldn't be helped.

Elves always lived and breathed in closeness to the Goddess. For the first time in a long time Héctor prayed formally, communing directly with her. He asked the great Goddess to keep his family safe, and to aid him in battle, one last time.

Dear Mother-Goddess, make my death count!

* * *

That same night, Jacinta was clutching a letter to herself as she dozed. Of course, she forgave him. He would be away for a month. The waiting would be hard.

"Jacinta!" Jacinta must have fallen asleep clutching the letter. She was dreaming of spear practice. I'm working too hard. She thought sleepily. Now I'm dreaming about it.

As she drowsed, halfway between waking and sleep, she had a vision of a handsome boy giving her tips on the throwing spear. Would it be worth pretending she didn't understand? She smiled in her sleep ... but it was Akhilleus. Somehow she couldn't picture Aison's face.

"Jacinta!" A voice sounded in her sleep again. "Stop dreaming about boys. Anyway, haven't boys caused you enough trouble already?"

"Go away, I'm sleeping," Jacinta mumbled, and pulled a blanket over her head.

"No, Jacinta, I'm working hard to reach you, something's blocking me. Just listen and don't argue. Your father, everyone in Troia, is in terrible danger."

"Who are you?" Jacinta demanded to the voice in her mind.

"Who I am is not important and it's complicated. It will be obvious very soon that I'm telling you the truth. Your father is about to be attacked. You are the only person who can stop it."

Jacinta had a vague sense of a beautiful woman, maybe in her early forties. She was small with red hair and startling green eyes; was she an elf?

What the woman told her then left Jacinta terrified.

She jerked out of sleep. "Who are you?" she called out again, but the room was empty.

She sat for a while, shivering in the pre-dawn chill.

* * *

"You don't know who it was?" Elena asked carefully as she looked at her daughter. "Could it have just been a dream?"

Jacinta shook her head. "It was too vivid. I've never had a dream like that. She may be trying to trick me, but I don't see how. I got a definite sense she was telling me the truth, for all that may be worth. I also got a sense she was someone really powerful but it was an enormous strain for her to reach me. She said something was blocking her."

"Alright," Elena said. "Let's assume, for the moment, thst she told you the truth. Do you know what this means?"

Jacinta thought for a moment, and tried a wan smile. "Nothing much at all, I suppose!

"My task is magic. I thought this meant the using of the healing magic of the paladins and recovering the ancient items of elf magic. Suddenly there is a great more involved.

"The elves have not had a powerful wizard or witch for maybe twenty-five centuries. But there are others out there. We don't know who they are or what powers they have.

"Something may be protecting us here; that witch seemed to think what was blocking her would block others as well. We have this possible ally. We don't know who she is or what her motives are or even her name, and she tells me we are under attack.

"I don't have knowledge or any real power to fight back. Yet it is assigned to me, a thirteen-year-old girl. Did I miss anything?"

They couldn't help laughing a little to each other.

"It's no more impossible than the rest of the things asked of our family, I suppose, but it's the 'not knowing' that I find most terrifying," Jacinta finished.

"I'm sorry, Jacinta," Elena replied. "I feel I've brought the problems of my people on you. I know it doesn't make sense, but it still feels I laid this task upon you. Well, I don't intend to let you face this alone.

"I will tell you what I know about Olympias, Philippos's wife and the sisterhood she is the head of. They have recently recruited a lot of new members and set up their own oracle. If we are under attack through magic, I would expect her to be the one involved.

"After that we will have to hurry and talk to Leandros and Hakeem. Leave that to me. We can't tell them too much or they will try to do something themselves, and that won't work. It has to be you, she said, but I'll be right beside you."

Elena paused and took a breath as she explained what she knew to Jacinta. "Most humans don't realise just how much of our magic we elves have lost. It was one of the things that contributed to the fall of the Western Elves. We can hardly advertise it."

That certainly would not be wise! Jacinta thought.

Elena went on. "Ǽlward was the last great Seiðmaðr (elf sorcerer) and he was the head of their college. He hid the most powerful magic items the elves still held.

"Humans still have their magic; much of it is tied to the old earth beliefs, the Šamáns. The priestesses of the old ones of Greece were also very powerful and then there are the followers of Zōroastrēs, the Magi, but they are best at divination and prophecy.

In some places, darker human magic has survived."

Jacinta shivered when Elena mentioned dark magic.

Elena smiled. "Civilisation here was old before the Western Elves came, dating back to the time when humans made their tools of stone and wood and bone," Elena continued. "The cult of the 'Greater Gods' on the island of Samothráki preserve very ancient and powerful deities. Olympias made a great study of potions to kill you or make you fall in love. Her sisters are skilled midwives and, as I said, now they have their own oracle and seers.

"Olympias pretends she has more power than she has, so what limits her power has are hard to know, but she is clever and dangerous and very spiteful. Her greatest ambition is for her son and husband even more than herself."

Jacinta nodded excitedly. "She's frightened of my father, that's why she wants to attack him."

Elena nodded. "That means her oracle shows victory for Philippos is not a forgone conclusion."

* * *

Hakeem wasn't used to dealing with civilians and hadn't realised how desperate the problem of civilian morale would become. The people were frightened. They wanted reassurance, clear plans, strong leaders and, more importantly, a large garrison. Where were the elves? Where were the tribesmen? Why not more men? Why did Hakeem send the extra troops elsewhere? Why send the navy south?

Why was he emptying Troia and the surrounding villages? Did he know what he was doing?

If it weren't for Leandros, the city would not have lasted even this long. People trusted their king. While he had lost a war, Troia had not been besieged and the peace settlement was a mild one.

The Troians felt Leandros had saved them from harsher treatment, but even a king could command his people only so far, and now it seemed that Hakeem's clever plan to give an impression of desperation and incompetence to their enemy was about to blow up in their faces.

To make matters worse, Elena was getting premonitions of a disaster. Was it an echo of the ancient evil that had been visited upon the Elvish Troia? Or was she foreseeing destruction of the Greek Troia? Leandros's seers said they were prevented from seeing the final outcome but all agreed … the portents were ominous.

It was all starting to wear down Hakeem's almost endless reserves of confidence and, at the same time, something was nagging at the back of his mind, something he was missing, he didn't know what.

And now people's fear was turning to anger. If the Athēnai didn't come soon, Troia would explode, they would have riots. If they had serious civil unrest or if they had to institute harsh measures, the defence of the city would be impossible.

When Elena and Jacinta walked into the throne room Hakeem had joined Leandros in what was yet another meeting with the senior members of the town council and it was not going well.

Leandros raised an eyebrow when Elena and Jacinta came up to him, both carrying their quarterstaffs. Swords and spears were not allowed in the audience hall except by the guards and senior commanders. These two had special status, but the staffs were on the edge of propriety.

He didn't have a clue what Elena was talking about but agreed to the strange request. Some strangers would arrive soon and she and Jacinta must be allowed to talk to them without interruption, it was very important.

Hakeem was equally distracted and he also agreed. Once they had the agreement of the king and the senior advisers in the room, Elena and Jacinta took up position, just behind the king, and waited.

Apollo by this stage was almost howling in frustration. "But Lord Hakeem, you say to trust you. You say you won't let Troia fall!

"Surely you can say more about how you plan to achieve such a task? Troia is facing not one but two great threats. You promised us more men. Where have you sent the troops from the south? Where are your elves, where are your tribesmen? Why have you sent the navy away, don't you plan to oppose the Athēnai?

"Tell me something hasn't gone badly wrong with your plans. Tell me you are not hiding the truth so we will not panic and leave. Do you want to keep it secret till we are trapped in this city and murdered?

"This has gone on long enough!"

Leandros was seriously worried. Apollo was toying publicly with treason now. If he arrested him the impact on civilian morale would be devastating. But if Apollo kept taunting his leaders and Leandros didn't act, he would be showing weakness and the situation could rapidly get out of hand.

The citizens of Troia were much like dry grass in a drought, awaiting a spark to ignite a great inferno. It looked very much that the time had come.

Hakeem sighed. What could he say? Could he say the fortress city would absolutely not fall? Could he say nothing could go wrong?

He could not just lie to shut the man up, though that was what he was accused of doing. He couldn't discuss his plans. Could he confidently reassure him all was well with large armies and an unbeatable navy moving to threaten them?

He was aware of Jacinta and Elena in the background. They said there were some people coming that they must speak to. What on earth did that mean?

Hakeem opened his mouth. "Apollo, sir," he began kindly, feeling unbearably weary with the constant strain of waiting. "I understand just how worried everyone is at this time. Once again ..."

Just then everyone heard great shouting in the streets outside the palace. Was this the long-feared riot? Was it the start of the attack?

Leandros quickly sent men to investigate. There was little conversation as everyone waited. Hakeem's hand strayed to the handle of his sword. He slid his sword out slightly and pushed it back in its sheath a few times, as he did when he was tense.

Then the door was pushed wide open. Three sisters of the Samothráki Oracle marched into the room. The guards were reluctant to bar them.

Their faces were hidden by hoods of their simple garments but after bowing to Leandros they pushed their hoods back. There was a gasp from all who beheld them, they were breath-takingly beautiful, and all the men felt their power.

Unnoticed, Jacinta and Elena had left their place and began walking down to where the three waited.

"Great King Leandros!" said the leader, a dark-haired sultry Greek beauty. "We carry a terrible warning for the people of Troia, will you hear it?"

Leandros, given little choice, nodded grimly.

"The Athēnai have already set sail. The sun will rise twice and then you will see their ships. I see as if from afar a mighty pall of smoke rising up from your city. I see thousands dead. There will be enemies walking your streets, and I see him," she pointed a finger at Hakeem, "embracing a Greek soldier in the rooms of the palace and laughing with him."

Pandemonium and shouting broke out. The crowd surged forward. Apollo looked like he was struggling to reach Hakeem. Many were screaming, "Traitor!"

The guards drew their swords and hurried to put themselves between the crowd and Hakeem and Leandros. An alarm bell began ringing, and in the distance there was the sound of cries and running feet. Hakeem took several steps back. If the citizens attacked Hakeem and he was forced to defend himself, all would be lost.

But there were two present who were immune to whatever enchantments the beautiful priestesses had.

Jacinta's voice could be heard clearly, calling out, "Mother … she lies!"

Elena's voice carried clear above the chaos. "Liar! I call you liar!"

The crowd paused in confusion. Apollo was frozen in his struggles and looked back on the confrontation.

"The Oracle never lies!" The seeress flashed a murderous look at Elena. Jacinta and Elena held their quarter staves at ready. The three priestesses were armed with knives. Their leader would have liked to lunge at Elena and Jacinta to provoke everyone in the room into fighting but she realised she would simply be struck down.

"I say you lie!" Jacinta said clearly. "Give your oath on the Goddess that you serve that you will answer my questions in front of these witnesses and tell the truth."

The seeress had no acceptable reason to refuse.

"You don't need the oath, little girl, but you have it. My oath on the Goddess I serve."

Jacinta smiled. The seeress was now under oath.

"So deny the Greek soldier you foresaw in Leandros's palace had an empty scabbard and my father was armed," Jacinta challenged.

Someone in the crowd called out, "It was a Greek prisoner. Hakeem won't betray us!"

"Tell me if you foresee Hakeem or any of my family breaking faith or leaving before the coming siege."

The seeress smiled. "You must know the answer, to ask it so. None of you leave Troia before the battle with the Athēnai is decided. It is true your family does not break faith," she admitted.

"You don't lie, you just don't tell the truth! Why would you do such a thing, I wonder?"

Jacinta took a deep breath and shouted at the young woman. "Deny you use some sort of enchantment on those here. Deny that you serve our enemy. Say that Olympias, wife of Philippos is not your senior."

Several in the crowd were shaking their heads to clear them. They began to realise the priestesses had cast a spell on them, perhaps with their beauty. They had been deceived.

The crowd started to approach the priestesses in a threatening manner.

"Hold back! " Elena commanded "They are not to be harmed. Hold, people of Troia, you must hear the truth."

The seeress smiled coldly. "You think you are clever, Gypsy brat!" she spat. "But you have no power to fight that which comes against you. The rest I say is true, oppose what comes at your peril, Gypsy orphan."

The sound of Jacinta's musical laughter shocked the audience. "You must do better than that, witch! We rode towards this danger. You think we did not know? We came here to stand with our Troian friends.

"Am I just an orphan Gypsy girl? Tell them!"

"You are the one foretold in ancient prophecy. As is your father and your mother. But I warn you. If you do not leave now and Troia falls, you will die! This is true."

"If Troia falls! ... If! ... "Jacinta's laughter again rang out across the room. It broke the last of the spell the priestesses had cast. "You see smoke. You see dead from a great battle but none of them are women or children. You cannot even say whether they are Greek or Troian. Admit this! Admit now, you don't foresee Troia's fall!"

"I see only what I see, nothing beyond what I have said," the seeress said sullenly.

"And you use this to try to frighten us? You tell me nothing I don't know.

"We all know a battle approaches, do you take us for fools? That is why we came to Troia.

"The outcome is not decided."

Jacinta's voice rang out loudly. "People of Troia, hear me now! You have all heard the prophecy, if Troia falls I and my family will die here. You have our oaths. We will stand with you and if Apollōn wills it, we will give our lives for you.

"But we rode in haste to your city knowing this. Do you really think we expect Troia to fall? Do you think we come here just to die? Do you really think my father would risk his own wife and daughter if he believed Troia would fall?

"We are the three mentioned in ancient elvish prophecy. Do you not know that we came to Troia at this very time for this very purpose? It is the destiny of thousands of years that has brought us here. Do you not trust in your Gods?

"My father is the Warlord and a paladin of the desert tribes. If he commands, the desert tribes ride to war, without question or offer of payment!

"I am the one foretold by the elves and am to be the next paladin of the Shantawi. My mother is Elena, the Queen of the Eastern Elves. This very night Princess Seléne, the last living heir of the Eastern Elves, will arrive here, to this city, with her escort."

There was a gasp at this news. Seléne was coming here!

"Do you think for one moment we believe Troia will fall?

"Do you believe you are deserted by the elves who send all who are most dear to them to your city in this time? Do you think for a moment you are deserted by the Shantawi? Do you not know of the famous honour of the Shantawi?

"Do you forget King Helios himself came here to pledge aid, does this mean he plans to desert his friends? He was your enemy but you know the man. Do any of you here doubt his honour?

"Do you doubt your own king?

"My father and your king would be fools indeed if they revealed their hand to their enemies, but do not take this as a sign you are abandoned by your friends. They are hidden from our enemies, the Athēnai. They are nearby, guarding the approaches to the city.

"Two thousand years ago, the defenders of Elvish Troia knew they would fail. It was foretold. Did they lose their courage? No, they fought on without hope.

"The Athēnai have sailed! War is upon us! And they send these three witches with their children's tales to frighten us.

"Do they think we did not know we rode into danger, to help you, our friends? Did they think we would not risk all to fulfil our promise to you? They cannot frighten me, a child, let alone the brave people of Troia.

"Let them go! Let them go as a message!

"Let it say to our enemies that the brave people of Troia and their friends will face this and anything they want to threaten us with.

"Let them go as a message that we put our faith in the King!

"Let them go as a message that we put our faith in our generals!

"Let them go as a message that we put our faith in Hakeem, the one prophesied to be the greatest warrior of our time!

"Let them go as a message to say we trust in powerful Gods and powerful friends!

"I give you my pledge. I and my family will stand with my Troian friends no matter what.

"Now, people of Troia … are you with me?"

A deafening roar rang out and Jacinta was lifted onto strong shoulders and borne from the hall in jubilation and shouting. People rushing to the palace were amazed.

Above the din, Leandros could be heard clearly. "Praise for Jacinta! She has saved us from a dark plot!"

The priestesses were escorted quickly out of the city with a heavy guard lest they be set upon. The crowd were celebrating. Nothing had changed. Yet all the pent-up fear had been released. The citizens of Troia had faced their darkest fears and realised again they were a brave people with determined friends who planned to stand by them or die trying.

If the Great Elf Queen of the Prophecy came to Troia to stand with them; if this precious child was proud to stand with them; if the young Princess Seléne of the elves and the last in line for the elvish throne would come to stand with them, how could they have any less courage?

How could they believe they were deserted and powerful friends were not camped nearby in secret?

Jacinta was borne to the town square with the town council with Elena hurrying after her.

As they left, Leandros turned with amazement to Hakeem. "Jacinta, how did she do that? All was lost. And then she started talking. I swear if she told me to leap off my battlements, I would have gladly done so, and now she has given my people new heart.

"She and the news of Seléne have saved my kingdom."

Hakeem shook his head, smiling proudly. "I've seen her do this sort of thing before and she leaves me dumbfounded every time. But what about what the witches say? I've missed something and I don't know what."

"It's not the new elvish weapons you brought, is it? That elf fire sounds dangerous. You don't think it will blow up in our faces?"

Hakeem shook his head, considering. "Anaxagoras says it is moderately safe, it has never blown up on him before … but it's down on the docks, well away from the city."

"Well, Jacinta is right," Leandros said. "The fate of Troia is not yet decided. We can't change our plans now, but if anyone can do this, you can. If at the end, we stand, even if only on our knees, we will stand.

"This is the time for courage. Listen to your own daughter. Put aside your doubts. We have to trust ourselves. We have to trust Apollōn and the Great Mother."

An impromptu celebration had started. Leandros ordered a feast quickly prepared. Jacinta became the guest of honour, while townsfolk gave speech after patriot speech. The fear and dissension of the last few weeks had disappeared.

The enemy was upon them!

Jacinta stayed on till the late afternoon when she begged permission from the crowd to go and prepare to greet Seléne when she rode in.

She left with Elena and a few guards who walked her back. As the party approached the citadel, they saw a couple standing close to each other in the shadows.

Jacinta froze.

Aison had his arm around another girl. He moved guiltily away from her when he saw Jacinta.

"Hello Aison!" she forced herself to say.

"Er … hello Jacinta." He sounded embarrassed. "I hope you got my letter. I heard them shouting something about you, Jacinta."

"Oh it wasn't much ... Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?" Jacinta enquired sweetly.

"I'm called Psykhe," said a pleasant voice. Psykhe was closer to Aison's age, pretty and developed in ways Jacinta simply couldn't match. She held Aison's arm possessively.

"Aison has told me a lot about you."

Well, he forgot to mention you! Jacinta thought bitterly.

Suddenly she felt very young and very foolish.

"Very pleased to meet you, Psykhe," she tried to say evenly. "Well, good night to both of you," she said and almost ran off.

Aison called after her but made no attempt to follow. "Jacinta, you saved my life! My grandfather has forbidden me to talk to you and I have to leave tomorrow."

Jacinta almost fled back to the palace only to run into the king. "Jacinta, you were wonderful!" Despite his age, he spontaneously swept her up and hugged and kissed her.

"One minute my whole kingdom was about to go up in flames and the next minute you have the populous cheering and eager to fight anything that comes. Can I present you formally to my officers? They all want to thank you!"

"Certainly Lord," Elena said. "Jacinta is exhausted and we expect my sister to be arriving in a little while. Can we have a few minutes to rest and bathe and freshen up ready? Do you think it can wait till the evening meal?"

"Of course, of course!" Leandros said, looking a little disappointed and confused. "Well, we will see you then and, once again, thank you! Thank you both!"

Elena took charge and firmly steered Jacinta into her room. She sat Jacinta on the bed and sat down next to her. She held her hand up to forestall any comments from Timo who was bursting with excitement.

Elena simply waited. Jacinta struggled to hold it in but then it came out in a flood. "Oh Mother!" She threw herself across her mother's lap. Elena hugged her and waited for the tears to stop. Then she said quietly, "You really liked that boy."

Then Timo understood and sat on the other side of Jacinta and stroked her friend's hair and gently massaged her shoulder.

Jacinta looked up at the two of them through a sheen of tears. "I feel such a fool."

"I saw him at the trial. I thought he looked rather handsome," Elena said. "And did you hear what that girl said? He talks a lot about you. He likes you. You haven't been silly at all. That might be his girlfriend and she's older. It's simply harder to compete. His grandfather doesn't like you which doesn't help.

"Maybe you can still be friends," Elena said gently.

"Oh great! Thank you very much, Mother! If I'm lucky we could still be friends!"

Jacinta laughed a little through her tears. "Psykhe seems nice. Maybe we three can be friends. It would be just like having an older brother and sister. That would be great!"

She threw herself on the bed and groaned. "I think I'd rather the Athēnai came and killed me now," she said, pulling a big cushion over her head.

By the time Hakeem found them, Jacinta was red eyed from crying but the three were laughing and telling stories.

* * *

Hakeem, Elena and Jacinta waited outside the gate, ready. It was well past nightfall when the torches of Seléne's escort could be seen approaching the great fortress city. Seléne arrived with two hundred mounted elves in a clatter of hooves. Héctor accompanied her, but held back to allow the young princess to lead the party. She hopped off and hugged her sister and Jacinta first.

"Surprised to see me?" she asked brightly.

Seléne herself was surprised to find a great throng of townsfolk had turned out to greet her; as far as she knew she wasn't expected. As her family embraced her, each hung on a fraction longer, as if drawing strength from her presence.

"You have no idea what you have done by coming here. No idea, I think you have saved the city!" Jacinta said.

"Oh Seléne!" was all Elena was able to say as she hugged her sister, tears running down her cheeks.

"Seléne! It does us all so much good to see you again but what on earth are you doing here?" Hakeem said. Like Héctor, he was pleased to see her, but felt she shouldn't have come.

"A seer said I must come here, but it seems I am not needed. The people of Troia lack no courage!"

"This is the miracle that the news of your coming has wrought, you and your clever friend, Jacinta," Elena said.

This was a very different Seléne. It was as if something, some hardship, had aged her. Elena guessed part of it but didn't know it all.

She was still Seléne, sweet and beautiful, but she was now a young woman. She met the delegation from the township and the palace as a polished diplomat and then she took charge.

"Well, let me pass, then." The people of Troia had turned out to meet her and she would not let them be disappointed. Seléne remounted and trotted her horse up to the gates, leading the way, every inch of her a young elf royal on a diplomatic mission.

She paused just outside and her youthful voice could be heard crying out clearly. "Citizens of Troia! My name is Seléne! I am a princess of the Western Elves and the last living heir to my father, King Cyron, and my sister, Elena. I have come to your city in peril and will not leave it till the battle that is now upon you is fought.

"With me is my Uncle Héctor whom you all know is the finest living general of the elves. He has camped close by, but long in secret. He leads a large force of Shantawi and elves that guard the land approaches to Troia. I myself have come as a token to show the people of Troia that they are not forgotten.

"I will stand or die with the people of Troia. That is my pledge to you.

"I would not be here if I felt Troia would fall. Doubt not the courage and determination of your friends. I doubt not the courage of you, my dear friends, the people of Troia."

The crowds went wild with enthusiasm. They lined the route into the city, throwing flowers at the feet of her horse and cheering till they were hoarse. The beautiful elf princess waved and smiled graciously as she led her escort up to the citadel to greet King Leandros.

Long would those who witnessed this would remember the moment. The ride of Seléne to give courage to the defenders of Troia was something that would pass into legend. Seléne remembered the words of the little girl who was a seer. "The very rumour of your arrival will do much to those that lose heart."

* * *

"There is an old man and a lad who wish to see you, my Lady Jacinta."

It was the next day. Jacinta was enjoying Seléne's company and a late breakfast after her morning drill.

The two guards that were now ever-present after the incident at the gate waited impassively, forced to be close by because of the recent events. They had been struggling to stay alert as they were forced to endure the two young friends chatting endlessly on "girl" topics.

Who could this be? Jacinta wondered, as an ancient warrior limped in uncertainly with a young lad in tow. The boy was familiar.

The warrior had cropped his white hair short. His arms looked still strong. His face was scarred, he had lost the sight of his left eye and there had been a nasty wound to his right leg.

He looked embarrassed. "You won't know who I am, young lady."

Jacinta looked at him levelly. "And that's where you would be wrong, Hesiodos. Hermokrates has told me a lot about you and some of your exploits. May I offer you and your grandson refreshments, sir? You have come to this city at a good time."

The old warrior looked at Jacinta for a moment, not comprehending, and then suddenly he threw his head back and roared out his laughter.

"Me? No, I think my fighting days are well and truly over, Lady …"

"Jacinta, please. And may I introduce the Princess of the Eastern Elves, Seléne?"

After the introductions Hesiodos looked much more relaxed and had straightened his shoulders considerably. "Well, I must say, you have warmed the heart of an old man, Jacinta. It is said your family has a reputation for fair speech, including the elves in your family, if I may say so.

"This is hard for me but you're making this easier than I thought it could be. You must know why I am here."

"I don't, sir, but it will be about your grandson here. Hello Kryiakos."

Kryiakos didn't make eye contact and was blushing furiously. This was a very different Kryiakos. The arrogant bully she first met was completely gone.

"Well, young lady, it was Kryiakos that wanted to come. He's really had a hard time of it, all deserved of course, but I think he's a better man for it. We didn't think anyone would let him see you. I thought it were best I came along."

Jacinta looked at the big youth. She was at a bit of a loss. "Kryiakos, you can't know how sorry I am, for what happened. Is there anything I can do to help you?"

"No!" The large boy eventually was able to start but he stood seemingly studying his feet. "W-What happened was my fault! I tried to hurt you in practice.

"I'm clumsy, I was afraid I wasn't good enough. It made it worse for me when they didn't want hoplitai, being a hoplitēs takes a lot of strength and wouldn't have been so bad for me.

"When you injured me, I couldn't leave to journey home straight away, so I had time to think. I was in the barracks. People were around, but they despised me. No one would talk to me or cared if I lived or died. I didn't have a single friend. That was the worst time of my life. At first I felt bitter but I realised I had no right to expect better.

"Did you know Hermokrates came back to talk to me? It was only him that showed me any kindness. He told me a lot of stuff. He was right. I was still laid up so I had nothing to do but think about what he said.

"Hermokrates said I was afraid, that's why I pushed others around. I didn't like that I can tell you, but deep down I knew it was true. I just hoped no one else could see it.

"He didn't seem to hate me, even after all I did. That really helped. I realised what would have happened if I managed to hit you. I would have done deliberate injury to a young student in training. I would have been killed and rightly so. I must have been mad.

"I've got a mother and two young sisters. My father died in the last war, you see, and they need me. If it was anyone else but you, Jacinta, that's what would have happened. In a way though I didn't understand it at the time, you saved me.

"At one time I wanted to die, but I had my family, like I said. Hermokrates knew that too, he said I had to be a man. He said being afraid isn't being a coward, it depended what you did with that fear and being brave wasn't always about being a warrior.

"He suggested to me, I had to do things that took real courage. The first thing was to face myself and try to be better. When I went home, I had to explain the truth to my grandfather here. That was the hardest thing of all. I told him I was a coward.

"Well, I came back to apologise. I owe you that. I don't expect you to think much of me, and I don't blame you. I don't think very much of myself lately."

Jacinta hopped out of her chair and walked slowly up to Kryiakos. She laid her hands on his shoulders. "Now that's where you are also wrong, Kryiakos. Just now I think a great deal of you. Just now I think you are one of the bravest persons I've met.

"And Kryiakos?" She leaned forward, pulling him to her and giving him a lingering kiss on the cheek. "Your apology is accepted," she whispered softly.

Tears came to his eyes and he flushed deeply with embarrassment but he was bursting with pride and pleasure.

* * *

They were still chatting and Timo had brought in some tea and pastries. Kryiakos ate most of the pastries before he realised what he was doing and made a visible effort to stop.

Jacinta tried to suppress a smile as she watched him.

"So I hope the local weapons smith will take me on. I've been too shy to ask, until now. I hate it when the people in the village look at me and whisper, but I think I can face anything now, after talking to you. I don't think I'd ever be a skilful warrior but I'm strong for my age," Kryiakos was saying.

"If you change your mind and want to return here, my father has taught me exercises to improve dexterity and balance. It would take a while though, and I can get the ban on you cancelled."

Kryiakos looked at her in surprise. "You could do that?"

Jacinta nodded. "I have more than just influence. You forget who I am. In certain things, if I make a statement, others listen. Anyway, if I explained this to my father, he would agree."

"You would do that for me?"

Jacinta nodded. "Yes, I would … Is that what you want?" she asked softly.

"Someone will take advantage of your generosity one day," Kryiakos blurted out in surprise.

Jacinta lost her smile. "That would be unwise," she said coldly.

As he heard her, Kryiakos felt a touch of ice deep inside. Then the spell was broken. He was back with Jacinta, the sweet Gypsy girl, and her important friend.

"Jacinta, I can't thank you enough. I didn't expect you to be so nice but I think I'll stick with trying to get work for the moment. The weapons maker is swept off his feet. My grandfather would let me go to war but he is getting older and a bit of extra income would certainly help. I'd like to give you a gift one day."

"Kryiakos, you already have! You have heartened me and removed a shadow I have carried inside after what happened."

"No, one day when I'm good enough, I'll make a sword for you."

"Oh, Kryiakos! That's too much. Unless you let me pay, but I'd like that, I'd like that a lot."

* * *

"Jacinta was so nice, she made me feel so good about myself," Kryiakos said to his grandfather as they were walking away. "And she kept asking if you would stay and help them."

"Yes," Hesiodos chuckled. "She almost tempted me, and she would have found something that would make me feel honoured and useful," the old man said with pride. "But those days are over for me. It was hard to remember I was talking with a young girl, that's for sure."

"She's really nice and she's so pretty." Kryiakos smiled. "But, you know, for an instant she gave me a chill, I don't know, maybe I imagined it."

"No you didn't, I felt it too. She's a good person, mind, but she's a killer, I have seen them before. They say her father is just like that. Not like the rest of us, who kill from anger or pleasure or fear. If he has to, he doesn't hesitate, he just does it. To do your killing in cold blood, that's what's unusual.

"Have you forgotten about your leg, already? And didn't you hear what happened to those pirates? I think she will be very dangerous when she is older, but only to her enemies. She's dangerous already and she is still very young."

* * *

Seléne had also brought something for Jacinta and Elena from Elgard.

It was extremely dangerous. It had only been found after Hakeem and his small family had ridden in haste for Troia. She decided to show it to them after a private dinner held on her second night in Troia.

There was Elena and Hakeem with Jacinta, Héctor and Seléne. King Leandros was present at their request. Leandros's young sons had already left to join their brother in Abydos. The dinner had been served and the servants had been deliberately dismissed.

The Athēnai were expected within two days so Héctor had to leave early in the morning but he had wanted to be there when the object was shown.

After they had eaten, Hakeem raised a glass to Seléne. "Seléne, I think if you hadn't come we would have lost Troia, even before the Athēnai arrived. The city was on the verge of revolt. The news of your coming has put heart back into all of us.

"Me as well, I must say. It's hard to explain, I think it's your trust in me that helps me believe in myself again. The waiting was wearing us all down and your presence here is like a fresh breeze.

"Nonetheless," he laughed, "… I wish you weren't here!"

Héctor smiled. "But you don't expect to lose this one do you, Hakeem?"

Everyone looked at Hakeem expectantly.

Lose this one? Hakeem smiled at the irony. against impossible odds? Why, of course not!

"The young seeress told me your tasks would fail unless I came. So here I am. I can't do much, but I'm glad to have some role in this." Seléne smiled fondly at Hakeem. "We elves never desert kin and for me that includes you and Jacinta."

"Not much! Not much!" Leandros exclaimed. "You have saved my kingdom, Princess. You and your friend, Jacinta."

"I have brought something else," Seléne continued. "Héctor and I wish you to know of this also, Lord Leandros." Seléne pulled an object out of a leather shoulder bag, carefully laying it on the table and unwrapping it.

"We found this in Dimitrios's room and he was very co-operative telling about it," Seléne explained. "It was found in Elgard centuries ago, but was thought to be lost again.

"He used it to spy on Elena. We are starting to suspect that the presence of Hakeem blocks far seeing magic, perhaps something about him being a paladin."

Elena looked at Hakeem thoughtfully, if it wasn't for that, they would have been caught as they were fleeing to Karsh. Was it something about Hakeem being in Troia that almost blocked the witch from reaching Jacinta two nights before? If so, it seemed to be powerful and act over a wide area.

Then she looked at the object on the table. From the side, the centre looked like a polished metal mirror, but she had never seen a metal that could look so clear, it seemed to ripple slightly, as if alive. But when she moved to look at it straight on, it changed to dull grey, like lead.

The centre was surrounded by some dark wood of a type unfamiliar. The wood was bearing old elvish runes (an alphabet designed for stone, wood or clay), so it was unimaginably ancient. Elvish runes had not been used for thousands of years.

No one alive could read them now.

"So it was found in 'the newest' … that's Elgard!" Jacinta said, her voice was hushed. "It's the Mirror of the Ancients."

Until now, Jacinta could hardly believe they would find the lost magical items, yet here was the first one. She looked at it with reverence.

Héctor nodded. "Dimitrios can't say how it came into their family, but they have held it secret for generations. It's one of the reasons they prospered. You have to be careful in using it. It takes great skill and ability to master its magic."

He passed it to Seléne who stared into it for a while. There seemed to be a shimmer in the centre; she passed it to Elena who got a similar but stronger result. Elf magic ran in their veins.

"Give it to Jacinta," Héctor urged.

Elena looked at him perplexed. "But she's not …"

"Give it to her," he repeated softly.

Jacinta took it carefully, her face almost glowing with wonder and pleasure as she touched, for the first time, a real magic item. Héctor watched intently as she placed it down on the table and moved to stare deeply into it.

As she bent over, her eyes suddenly widened and she gasped. Then she screamed! The sound of her anguish echoing through the palace.

She couldn't let go, couldn't look away. She stood stricken, staring in terror and fascination, clutching at the frame.

Héctor was ready; he quickly threw a cloth over the mirror and gathered her into his arms.

Elena knocked her chair over in haste as she ran to her sobbing daughter. She stood, pressing the girl to her chest.

Jacinta was shivering, still gripping the mirror, her fingers like claws. Elena prised it out of her grip with obvious difficulty.

"Oh Jacinta! I'm sorry," Hector said. "Before the Goddess, I didn't know it would be so strong with you."

"I saw a great oasis, a city, there were people … like me but fairer," Jacinta said, trembling in a small voice. She then cried out again in anguish. "Please God! Not here! That can't come here!"

A guard cautiously peeked in and re-shut the door.

"Bactria," Leandros whispered in fear. "Bactria, or Samarkand."

Hakeem came around to Jacinta. He lifted his daughter's chin and stared gravely into her tear-streaked face, wiping it with his calloused hands. No words needed to be said. Jacinta held out her arms to him and he took her up and then enfolded both the women he loved in a strong hug. Elena leaned into his strength and wrapped one arm around Jacinta and the other around her man.

Héctor was distraught. "Jacinta, forgive me!" he said, appalled at what had happened.

"No, great Uncle! This is my task … But Gods, what I saw! Burning ... a woman … a little child. People running, slaughter. What men … what animals, are these?"

"It is war." Hakeem's voice was almost hollow. He hugged Jacinta and Elena fiercely, almost painfully.

Jacinta spoke softly. "That is not war."

Leandros spoke in a hushed voice. "They use it as a lesson, Jacinta. If the city does not surrender, they say it is an offence against their God. They punish the people within." He shook his head.

Everyone in the room looked at each other. Not one of them believed they would surrender, no matter what.

This was the price they faced.

Elena and Seléne turned to their uncle. "How did you know, Jacinta's not an elf."

Héctor looked grim. "She is the daughter! This is her task. You still think like an elf in this."

Hakeem stared at the mirror lying on the table in distaste. It was a loathsome thing that had hurt his daughter. She had glanced at it only for a moment before Héctor covered it. He looked deeply into Jacinta's eyes.

"We have been warned. I'm sorry this warning came to my daughter." His words were for everyone, but mostly for her.

"Never again will anyone touch this unprepared, and never will they do so alone. That is the path to despair," he said. "This is a dangerous and powerful magic. One day we may have to learn its use, but not yet."

Jacinta looked at Hakeem and nodded solemnly. He spoke as both as her father and also as her paladin master. Despite these grim words, he gave her strength. All gasped as Jacinta hopped down from her father's arms and without hesitation picked up the mirror and wrapped it. She looked at Héctor, questioning.

He nodded. "It is to be given into your keeping … I don't need to tell you to be careful, do I?"

Jacinta managed a wan chuckle. "No, I don't think that will be necessary Uncle."

Hakeem's hands were clenching and unclenching. "I feel like taking this from you and smashing it but that's not right. In this, I must trust you, above even myself.

"Can I say something that sounds silly? Please be careful!"

Elena looked pale. "Please be careful, Jacinta, you know how we love you."

Jacinta tiptoed back and kissed and hugged her parents.

Héctor turned to Leandros. "You seem to know what it was that Jacinta saw."

Leandros nodded. "It can only be one place.

"In the north of Indía are great mountains, the greatest in the world. North and south of these mountains you find a mix of Aryan and Indian, Indo-Aryans. Gypsies, like Jacinta, are Indo-Aryans from the Indian side so are a little darker.

"In the north of these mountains there are deserts caused by the shadow of these great mountains but they have many rivers flowing into them from the mountains. Along these rivers there are great oasis cities and the wealthy trade routes between east and west.

"The people who live there are called Sakā, they are also Indo-Aryans. The Hun have become strong indeed if they can sack those cities."

Héctor nodded, it was what Cyron had warned them of before.

After this, though it was not very late, everyone felt tired and drained. Jacinta was exhausted and her eyes kept closing. Elena felt not much better. She was determined to sleep in the same room as Jacinta and Seléne but was yet to make the offer. No, it would be an order!

Jacinta asked that Leandros keep the object locked in a special place in his treasury. It would be under constant guard.

* * *

It was dawn and the enemy fleet would be coming the next day.

A large contingent of soldiers had been summoned to the Agora (marketplace) for an address by their Warlord and their king. A stage had been set up on the northern side and seating provided.

Stephanos was a big strong farm lad of sixteen. As he formed up with the rest of the men, he found his squad shuffled to the front and the far right. It was a place of honour. They were part of the taxis (legion) that would defend the fortified gate guarding the road from the docks.

The city was poorly garrisoned but they knew reinforcements would arrive as soon as the Athēnai were committed. So the defence of the gate was critical to the plan to trap the Athēnai on the docks.

Stephanos snapped to attention as the leaders approached, not daring to look right or left, but his heart was drumming in his chest and his palms were sweaty. Tomorrow he would face the Athēnai.

He felt afraid he would die or be injured, but more, he doubted his courage. His breathing was coming quickly, his bowels felt loose.

He stood with the older men, rigidly at attention, staring straight ahead. All he could see was a shop. He longed to glance at the king and the others as they arrived but his decadarchos (sergeant) ordered his stichos to stare straight ahead, and so they did.

It seemed to take forever but finally the order to stand easy came, and he was able to glance left at the stage.

He was at a disadvantage, being too close to get a good view of the leaders who were at the other end of the stage. Nearest him was that pretty young Gypsy girl, Jacinta, he knew.

Next to her, smiling at the crowd, were Princess Seléne and then the elf Queen, Elena.

Stephanos felt the breath catch in his throat at the sight of two young elf women, almost close enough to touch. He had never seen an elf in his life. They were so beautiful!

They had the unmistakeable elfin ears. Elena was so fair and Seléne had luxurious, silky, raven-coloured hair, so unusual in an elf.

Stephanos felt his heart swell with pride that they were here in his city, standing with them in its defence. And Jacinta was so young, younger than him, yet she had showed such courage already. If she could be so brave, so could he.

Hakeem had started addressing the crowd.

"Fighting men of Troia and Anatolē! Elves! Shantawi!" Hakeem's mighty voice boomed out from the stage in the centre of the agora. He would repeat his talk several times during the day, till all had heard it. "My Great King Leandros!"

Hakeem turned and bowed to the king who nodded and smiled graciously. The men let out a mighty cheer. Hakeem waited till it subsided and then eyed the crowd.

"Tomorrow, the Athēnai will come!" he shouted.

The cheering from the assembled men was deafening. Stephanos was yelling at the top of his voice. Hakeem grinned back at them and waited till it had almost subsided.

"Great King! Hear our people!" There was even greater cheering and clapping. Hakeem let it run for a while before resuming. It was so different from the mood of just a few days ago and he took heart.

"We expect the fleet to come here to the docks. Wherever they land they are in for a rude shock. They are in for a shock when they answer to the fighting men of Troia! They are in for a shock because Troia has mighty friends who never deserted them, like we have had them believe.

"Tomorrow we are all Troians! Elves, Shantawi, Aiol and Troians all, and we will stand as brothers. I am very proud, proud of you all. Now will you fail me?"

The din was incredible, men everywhere were shouting. Stephanos and his squad were shouting themselves hoarse.

"Leandros tells me his Troians are the bravest people on this earth. Am I to believe him?"

Another great roar.

"You!" He pointed straight at Stephanos as he walked across to him. "What is your name?"

Stephanos almost jumped with fright. "Stephanos, sir!"

Hakeem beckoned him forward and with a mighty heave, pulled the large lad onto the stage.

"Stephanos! Tomorrow the Athēnai will come here to steal your homes and attack your city and your king. Who will they answer to?"

"Me, sir!" Stephanos answered shyly.

"Repeat your answer to the crowd!"

"Me, sir!" Stephanos shouted proudly looking over the sea of faces.

Hakeem put his arm around him and spoke as with pride; his voice carried clearly across the Agora. "Stephanos, I will call you my brother and I will stand with you."

Then he raised his voice to a shout. "Now who else will stand with Stephanos?"

His audience went wild with enthusiasm. Hakeem repeated this several times, inviting more men one by one onto the stage.

"Brothers! Let us all give a prayer to our God Apollōn and then your Great King wishes to address you." He nodded to the priest.

He led Stephanos back a little as the priest began the service. "Are you scared, son?"

Stephanos nodded. "I am a little, great Lord!"

"That's normal. Let no one tell you otherwise. You're part of the guard at the docks gate, are you not?"

"Yes sir."

"I'll be there tomorrow and will look out for you." Then Hakeem smiled at him. "But it seems you will have quite a few other friends as well."

Stephanos flashed him a smile. "Yes sir, I guess I have."

Hakeem clapped him on the shoulder and resumed his seat as Stephanos climbed down to join his friends, grinning broadly. He felt he could take on anything, anything at all.

"I hope you haven't fired them up too much, Hakeem," Leandros cautioned as Hakeem sat down to join him. "If we win, they may slaughter our prisoners!"

Hakeem laughed. "No, Lord. I wanted to give them heart only. Most are veterans and the younger ones are well trained, I do not doubt their discipline."

* * *

The next stop was the remaining civilians, there were still a great many, essential men and women of the city and the palace and their families and the families of the soldiers. As many as could be gathered were assembled in the citadel where they were to take refuge if there was any fire or fighting in the city. As a last resort, they were to take to the sewers.

Each had been given their tasks and orders. Elena gave the main speech. Her elvish voice carried over the crowd, clear and sweet.

"Dear people of Troia, as I may call you all. The moment of decision is upon is. The Athēnai come tomorrow. While your soldiers do the fighting, your roles will be no less critical. You now all know well what each of you have to do.

"Let us pray to the Great Mother and Apollōn to watch over us all."

* * *

As the Troians made their final preparations for the coming war, Demosthenes was paying a final visit to a friend and an old adversary.

Phokion looked up from his cell as Demosthenes entered. He smiled and gestured meaningfully to the cup Demosthenes carried. "So, it has come to this, old friend, at last. I am eighty-two. They could have simply waited for me to die. I'm sure I would have obliged them soon enough. They needn't have gone to so much trouble for me, really."

He had named Demosthenes to bring him the poison. It was normally done only by the closest friend. At first Demosthenes thought, "How typical of Phokion!" to name his oldest rival to bring him the cup of poison, but now that it came to it, he realised Phokion was right. It had to be him.

Demosthenes looked at his old enemy sadly. Phokion put himself in danger by dealing with the Makedónes, but Demosthenes was horrified to find what he had released against Phokion had gotten so absurdly out of control.

A trial for treason! The Athēnai had taken leave of their senses. He suspected the hand of the Makedónes in it.

Demosthenes himself had spoken eloquently in Phokion's defence and bribed a reluctant Chares to do the same but the outcome was decided before the trial. It seemed people were looking for someone to blame for the indignities Makedonía had visited on them. A lifetime of selfless service was forgotten. Phokion was condemned to death.

Demosthenes only realised now how much Phokion was his friend, perhaps his only true friend. Only the two of them really understood one another, for better or worse. He hugged the old man.

"Come, come," Phokion said, a roughness in his voice. "This is not like you to be so sentimental. Any more of this and you'll be the death of me, I'm sure."

"I heard it's a peaceful way to die," Demosthenes said, passing Phokion the cup of Hemlock.

"I suppose as peaceful as any, it paralyses your body and stops you breathing. That's peaceful on the outside. I'll tell you later what it's like on the inside, if what they say about the afterlife is true."

Phokion drank half the bitter cup and paused with a grimace, before he downed the rest. Paralysis and numbness would spread through his body, starting from his feet. "Well, at least I keep good company. This is how Athēnai treated Socrates no less … Do you plan to stay?"

His old enemy, who was also his friend, nodded.

"Thank you, Demosthenes," Phokion said. "I am glad it's you who will be with me till the last. Well, it's seems I am not destined to be free of you, but you at least, will be free of me. What will you do without me to annoy you?"

"To be honest, I can't possibly imagine." Demosthenes smiled at his old friend and wiped his eyes.

They discussed politics and as time went by Demosthenes amused Phokion by telling him the details of the planned attack, what he knew about the enemy and their troops. "Your trial and sentence hasn't helped the mood of the troops, as you would imagine."

Phokion smiled and shook his head weakly.

He lay down and Demosthenes took Phokion's head in his lap. Phokion smiled weakly. "You know, I think you're the most dangerous man of all to us Demosthenes, you, not Philippos," he said tiredly to his friend. "You'll keep at it till you have either Athēnai or Thēbai destroyed, or both. You and your friends just don't learn, do you?

"You have killed me, to put someone like Elis in charge. He's the most politically connected and the most conceited but there's nothing else to recommend him. And Elis plans to sail straight for the docks." If Phokion could have, he would have snorted in disgust.

Demosthenes was puzzled. "Why not? We have a far superior force. The city is unprepared and the docks poorly defended. Once Elis takes them he can be supplied from the sea. Even against spirited resistance, he can build up his siege works and take the road piecemeal. More likely he can use the speed of our light infantry and be outside the walls by nightfall."

"So that's what you think it is?

"Can't you see? I guess you can't, otherwise you would not talk that way. You kill me and that's the best you can come up with." Phokion was getting weaker and breathing shallowly.

"What?" Demosthenes said uncertainly. "I know it seems like a trap but there is no way it can be.

"Hakeem hasn't got any of the men he was promised. He is a horse trader. He knows nothing about this type of warfare. The fortifications on the docks are a joke and we will make short work of them, I promise you."

"And this is from your group of comic amateurs that call themselves generals? Have they any cause for arrogance? Not a single one of them has ever won a battle except against some undefended village of one of their supposed allies. And this is the best plan these geniuses can come up with? I am killed to let these fools take charge … What has Athēnai sunk to?"

"What do you mean?" Demosthenes asked anxiously. Phokion was by far their best military mind. The record of the remaining stratēgoi (generals) was indeed woeful.

"The man who gave you this information, I suppose you haven't seen him around in the last few days … Ha! I can see I'm right.

"Hakeem is the Warlord of the Shantawi, by the sake of the Gods! And his wife is the Queen of the Eastern Elves. Yet you say there were no reinforcements.

"Don't you think? Don't you understand? The Queen of the elves is there in the city with their daughter and you tell me there have been no elf reinforcements.

"He's the Warlord of the Shantawi, do you know what that means if he calls them? You seem to believe they need to be paid or they won't come.

"All this, and you trusted the information you were given. I can't believe you people!"

Demosthenes protested that all the Troians believed Hakeem had failed them and were close to revolt. Phokion shook his head weakly.

"Listen to me. It doesn't matter what the Troian townsfolk are saying. What you are about to find out is that their leaders have played a clever but dangerous game, and you are all fooled so easily.

"Have you studied the Warlord at all? I suppose it wouldn't have made any difference. You had two decades to study Philippos and you had no clue what you were dealing with. Your generals know nothing about warfare! And what are you going to do? Well, why not sail into the harbour and take the docks?

"That's the best they can come up with. You have me killed for this." Phokion grimaced weakly.

"Tell me!" asked Demosthenes to the man who was weakening rapidly. The fleet had already set sail but perhaps it was not too late to give a warning. Phokion would tell him, he would explain. He always did.

But all Phokion did was to sigh and smile contentedly to himself, as if amused by some private joke. Not long after, his breathing slowed and finally stopped.

He died with a ghost of his famous sneer on his face.

 

Chapter 12: Troia Burns

From first light, Jacinta was waiting, crouched on the balcony with Timo, Eudokia and Seléne. Hakeem and Elena had left them, to go down to the gate house guarding the road from the dock. It would be there that the fiercest fighting would occur.

The girls had strict orders not to be seen from the sea and not to talk above whispers, until the fighting had started in earnest.

Not long after dawn, Timo gasped in fright, "Here they come!"

It was an advance enemy squadron of twenty sleek triērēs. The penetrating noise of their pipers and shouted orders could be heard carrying across the waters. They took up position just back from the entrance to the Hellespontos. Their masts were down and their sails stowed, ready for battle. But they were unopposed.

Their hulls were freshly painted black and the prows red and some blue. In the distance their bronze rams just poking above the water sparkled in the sun. Even Jacinta looked pale and frightened to see them.

"They move so quickly!" she whispered.

The three banks of oars pulled the light ships with frightening speed for their size. No other navy could hope to match the speed, training or the manoeuvrability of the Attik fleet. They were easily making ten knots and in battle could go even faster.

As the morning continued and the day got hotter, the rest of the flotilla arrived with more of the Triērēs, this time under sail, leading the transports. The sails were made of heavy white hemp-canvas, reinforced by stitching and ropes. Most had the 'Alpha' for Athēnai, some had owls (the sacred symbol of Athēnā) or the Medusa's head that the Goddess Athēnā had painted on her shield.

From their cover, the girls viewed the swelling numbers of the Attik fleet as they whispered softly amongst themselves. It was a hypnotising, beautiful sight and yet absolutely terrifying.

When the whole enemy fleet had arrived, Seléne and Jacinta exchanged a glance; both were thinking the same thing. This was two hundred ships.

Agamémnonas was said to have led a force of a thousand warships against Elvish Troia. They would have been far smaller than the triēris but what must have it been like for the defenders to see an enemy fleet stretching as far as the horizon?

The Attik ships unhurriedly stowed their sails and formed up to enter the Hellespontos. That was the signal for the Troian girls to go to their assigned posts.

Jacinta and Seléne had no assigned post and were very strictly confined to the citadel. They checked their war-bows and spare quivers. With their six guards, they made their way to join those who would man the walls of the citadel facing the city below.

There were not many and they were mainly old men, yet Jacinta did not doubt their determination if the fighting somehow reached to the gates of the citadel.

* * *

Ha! Elis, the Athēnai commander thought as he studied the fortifications on the docks. That horse trader they put in charge knows nothing about naval warfare! Didn't they have anyone who could give him even the most basic of advice?

The lookout told Elis, the commander of the Attik navy, what he could see for himself. As the spies had reported, the harbour was barely defended. The preparations that had been made were a joke. Could it be a trap? How could it be? It showed total ignorance of Attik ability in amphibian assaults.

Elis had a navy of one hundred warships and an equal number of transports to take human Troia. Not much more than a hundred years ago Athēnai could have launched three times that number.

Yet still, the Athēnai navy remained the finest in the region and none could match it. He planned to give the Warlord a lesson in how the Attik navy could take his harbour from him.

In the harbour there were barely a dozen war ships, obsolete, clustered down-wind, sails flapping, not showing oars or other signs of activity. They looked abandoned.

The Troian and Aiol navy were in hiding. Elis allowed himself to feel some disappointment. He wouldn't have the chance to annihilate their navy. That would have to come later. First to the business of taking Troia.

If the defenders did not plan to fight his navy at sea, Elis would have expected them to mount a stiff defence of the docks.

The docks were four feet above the high tide mark. The floating wharves for unloading and loading had been removed. All the warehouses had been demolished.

The sea wall had been widened to carry a road; what had they planned to do with that?

At the seaward, northern end of the docks there was a large wooden fort built just back from the water. Five huge catapults were visible inside. Just five catapults against a large fleet? It was made completely of wood and had several wooden buildings crowded inside; what were they for?

He was amazed. Didn't the horseman know he would simply set it alight? He briefly considered capturing it for the wood but he had more than enough supplies and siege engines; why bother?

There was a wide open area from the sea to the earthworks up against the cliff. The open area was obviously designed as a killing field but would rely on archers behind the earthworks. The horseman didn't have enough archers for that.

To attack archers with infantry, the trick is to close with them quickly. Elis had over a thousand rapid deployment light infantry in the front. They would be amongst the archers in minutes. He could attack at one point whereas the defenders would have to be spread over the entire front. For a small loss he would sweep the docks of all defenders.

Amongst the earthworks at the bottom of the cliff he could see a few smaller catapults. They looked crude and strangely unfinished. Presumably the crews thought they were protected by the bowmen. Well he'd take those off the defenders and use their own catapults against them.

Beyond the wooden fort, along the rest of the length of the waterfront, instead of proper earthworks and catapults, was a row of ridiculously small stone towers, eight in all, not far from the water. They had arrow slots facing forward and to each side. Not much could be seen as they were closed at the top and the inside was in deep shadow. At very best they might contain half a dozen archers, maybe eight all up with the small Skythian bows.

Ballistae at close range were going to make short work of them. He planned to demolish them after the battle.

At the southern end there was a very businesslike, fortified gate guarding what he knew was the steep road from the docks up to the fortress above. The gate had two stout stone towers and several efficient-looking catapults could be seen, there was a walkway over the gate, and the walls on either side had a crenulated parapet, with a slight overhang so defenders could fire downwards and drop rocks and oil on attackers.

A good job was done higher up on the slopes and headlands that were visible. They seemed well fortified by earthworks and wooden palisades, but again there were no visible defenders.

The docks were overshadowed by the cliff and the fortress above. So the defenders could keep up a very lethal barrage over most of the area once he'd taken it but the docks area was so wide that the warships and a narrow strip of land adjacent to the water would be well out of effective range.

Apart from his peltastae, he had an army of seven thousand hoplitai, plus bowmen and marines from the warships. He had four of the new huge ships, allowing two men per oar in the middle and carrying a large complement of marines and bowmen and even catapults. The huge warships were more than capable of providing catapult and archer support.

The only challenge for him taking the docks was the huge wooden fort which would be out of action early in the landing, those silly stone towers and, finally, the fortified gate. He planned to make things for the defenders of the gate very unpleasant indeed.

His large warships could probably handle the gate unaided with their own catapults and fire arrows but why risk them? Once he cleared the wooden fort and stone towers he would rapidly unload his other siege equipment. After that he could pound it from land and sea.

This would be easy! He wouldn't be trapped on the docks for long. It was even possible he could be up the road and knocking on the door of the fortified city before the day was out.

Still no one visible, the only sign of life was a little smoke coming from the fort and the gate towers.

Elis was puzzled as he looked at the harbour. His men were becoming unsettled. There was no challenge, no sign of frenzied activity. The lack of activity, the absence of proper preparations was somehow eerie. The docks had a strange abandoned feel.

For some reason, Elis began to feel angry. This Warlord was not only ignorant of tactics, he was insolent in his arrogance. His lack of preparation suggested he didn't fear the Athēnai. Well, he would fix that!

Neros glanced at his superior and spoke softly. "Sir, it's a trap. I just don't know how he plans to spring it."

Elis sneered at the infantry commander and refused to reply. His dislike for him was legendary. Neros had opposed fighting the Makedónes, and he had opposed this. He was a coward.

Neros glanced meaningfully at Pericles, his younger brother, who commanded a Lokhos(company) of elite peltastae. Pericles merely nodded thoughtfully.

Feeling more than a little nettled, Elis decided if it were a trap, he would spring it. He would land in the middle of the docks with his main force. The ships would be like floating pontoons allowing the rapid deployment of men and equipment.

They would completely overwhelm the defence. Once he had the docks, he could be supplied from the sea. If there was any delay in taking the city it would be impossible to dislodge him, but this siege would not take that long. The defenders were facing certain defeat.

He would enjoy this!

Without deigning to speak to the infantry commanders, Elis gave the signal. The fleet moved forwards past the breakwater into the centre of the harbour and formed up for the attack. They were well out of range of the defenders' catapults in the large harbour. The complex manoeuvre was brilliantly executed, and in scarcely more than half a glass they were ready. .

Only then, a single gong sounded from the wooden fort. Teams of enemy engineers finally appeared in the wooden fort and manned the catapults, but they seemed in no hurry. The catapults were loaded and kept ready. They lit fires in huge nearby cauldrons.

Smoke started to issue from the small stone towers. So, they were for fire arrows! Didn't they know they would be handled by dowsing them if they hit any of his ships?

A handful of languid sailors appeared amongst the dilapidated enemy fleet. Oars were pushed out and sails were stowed, again in no hurry, and they were so greatly undermanned. The Athēnai watched, laughing and calling insults in amusement. The old ships seemed to be about to angle across and cut off the fleet's escape route.

Elis ignored them.

The great door guarding the road to the fortress opened slightly and two riders galloped out to stop at the point closest to the fleet. The Warlord sat his horse impassively as the voice of King Leandros of Troy was heard, faint in the distance.

"Brothers and sisters of Athēnai! Why do you come against your kinsmen, why ally yourself with your enemies? Join us in defeating those whom we both hate. Come not as enemies, but as friends." There was a little jeering but mostly silence. The rank and file hated the Makedónes with a passion and all felt sympathy for the previous Athēnai colony.

Elis cupped his hands to his face to reply in his loudest voice, "If you wish to be part of Athēnai, you must pay us tribute as in days gone by." At this, a cheer rose from his men.

"Is that all?" asked Leandros. "If we pay your tribute you will leave us in peace and help us against our enemies?" (Not likely, but this farce needed to played out.)

"Yes, and pay for the decades you had stopped paying," Elis shouted back. His men gave out a huge cheer. Elis was a skilled orator; he had easily won that argument.

Then the Warlord 's voice rang out clearly; he was a big man, no doubt.

"Men of Athēnai, listen to me. You are here for the greed of your leaders. You unite with your enemies against your friends. If you win, you will become a dog of the Makedónes, eating the scraps from their table."

Elis nodded once and one of his catapults was released. It came nowhere near reaching the pair on the docks but the splash was impressive.

"Listen to me!" the Warlord continued, unperturbed; his horse did not even shift. "We do not wish to spill your blood. Leave now or I warn you, the consequences for you will be more terrible than you can imagine."

Elis laughed at the empty threat and gave the word to begin the attack. The ships started moving forward as the oarsmen pulled, gaining speed. The two horsemen galloped back to safety accompanied by jeers from the Athenian fleet.

The gong from the castle sounded twice. The catapults from the two forts released as one and small missiles fell amongst the fleet. Very impressive at that range, Elis admitted, but even the ones that scored a hit only killed a few men due to the small size of the missiles, and there were not enough catapults.

The attacking ships built up maximum speed and with drilled precision, shipped their oars.

The defending catapult crews moved fast now, there was time for one more shot and maybe two before the front boats reached land. They handled the next missiles carefully and had coated the cradles with sand and clay. They glowed dull red.

Where they hit the sea, they made a whooshing sound and let off a hiss and bubbles of steam. Where they hit a ship, there were screams and panic, fires started. If a quicker or luckier crew was ready to douse them with buckets a massive cloud of steam was released.

Elis observed this with a degree of admiration. Effective use of siege weaponry against a navy, but the Athēnai were too disciplined for this to break up their attack.

A small number of archers appeared on the wooden fort and shot a few fire arrows seemingly half-heartedly at the fleet. It would have been funny if it was not tragic. What had Troia come to?

Pericles looked puzzled as he saw the distance the catapults had shot. It was impossible to shoot that distance.

Then the answer came to him. "Elves!" he spat. "It must be elves."

Neros had noticed it too and nodded. He glanced anxiously at the line of huge siege engines on top of the mighty fortress. There were men visible now alongside those siege engines but they were making no effort to wind them. Pericles noticed that too.

"You don't suppose those have the same range," he asked urgently. "But that would mean …"

"That we are already in range from that height. The Warlord can cover the whole docks and some way into the harbour with them."

"They are not loading them, which means …"

"It's a trap! We are meant to land!" Pericles urgently yelled to Elis.

Elis rounded on him, his face crimson with rage. "I'm sick of you both, you and your brother. You're nothing but cowards. Both of you will lead the first charge! Do you hear me? If there is danger then it will just make you and your men run faster."

A second shower of hot rocks followed but the vessels were approaching the landing. The gate tower was now well in range and had started to bombard the fleet near it regularly.

There was a hail of fire arrows from the fleet as it started to attack the walls and buildings inside the great wooden fort. After just a little of this, its catapults and archers stopped firing and the defenders scurried back into the depths of the fort. Elis was amazed. He had directed two of his large ships to attack the wooden fort, but it had stopped resisting so easily. Maybe he should have tried to capture it.

His catapults started to fire at the fort with devastating results and his archers were showering it with fire arrows. The wooden fort made no answer. Fires were rapidly springing up all over. Why was this so easy? What was going on?

"Can't you see what's happening, you fool?" Neros screamed in fury. "Get those ships away from that fort now!"

Neros with Pericles and the nearby men were crouching low behind the forward catapult. Elis turned to face them but was more mystified than furious.

Then the fort exploded.

The world trembled to a monstrous quake, a giant clap of thunder; the great fireball engulfed half of the docks. Two of their giant ships, about to land men, and maybe a dozen other ships were there one minute and the next they were gone.

A thousand men perished instantly.

Elis was lifted and tossed through the air as if by the hand of a giant. He hit the mast hard and slumped to the deck. There was a blast of searing heat and a shower of rock, sand and, smoking wood.

What under the Gods had the Troians packed it with?

The gong from the castle sounded three times. Strange nozzles poked out of the top of the thin stone towers closest to the fleet and started to spray the fleet with oily dark liquid, building up in force.

"Elves!" Pericles screamed in horror. "There was supposed to be no elves! Don't let it touch you!"

Then the liquid was lit.

Enormous jets of flame leapt out, like the breath of dragons. The fire roared louder as men inside pumped faster and faster. Wherever it touched it was horrible, clinging burning to flesh, canvas and wood, floating burning on the water. Men ran blindly or, screaming, threw themselves in water.

Men all around were screaming and shouting, calling out in agony. Fire and smoke were everywhere.

One captain at the front tried to turn. The fleet was slowing as it neared the docks but his boat was crushed to kindling as it got caught between the fleet and the docks. The boats in front were already alight.

"What inhuman devilry is this?" Pericles shouted, coughing.

There were no targets. A few arrows cluttered against the stone towers impotently.

Choking black smoke was everywhere, billowing into the heavens, obscuring the city above and blocking out the sun. The flagship itself was already alight. The dock region was a chaos of fire smoke, men screaming and dying.

And still no enemy could be seen.

Can men shoot fire or stab fire? Can a sword hurt smoke? Can men fight Gods?

There is an ancient elf legend, a primeval war of Gods, new and old. In its aftermath, almost all was destroyed. Many mighty and fearsome Gods themselves were no more.

The elves call this horror Ragnarök, "the twilight of the Gods".

Here this nightmare came to the men from Athēnai.

Pericles saw Elis, blood streaming from a scalp wound, picking himself up weakly, looking dazed. It was the last he saw of him.

Neros, coughing and gasping, yelled to all around him over the roar of the fire and screams of dying men. "Men of Athēnai! We go now, or we are dead men. Follow me now while you can."

The marines and peltastae charged across the burning decks, following their commanders into a fiery hell. Some died horribly, hit by the liquid fire as it searched like a thing alive for victims.

Those that made it to land huddled blindly, bent over and coughing. The rest of the infantry were cut off towards the back of the fleet. The few enemy ships suddenly had full crews and were vigorously pumping fire liquid at the back with ghastly efficiency.

It was appalling, screams and confusion, smoke and fire everywhere.

Neros called for a desperate sprint to the cliff, for safety. Halfway there, the lattice with its cloth and dirt fell away, to show a pit and cruel metal spikes in the bottom.

They hadn't been able to unload their ladders. They were trapped between this, the gate-fort and the growing inferno.

Then the elven bowmen stood up to take aim.

The elves did not volley, they aimed every shot. Some of the Athēnai threw javelins, hopeless at that range. Within minutes, the small command would be destroyed.

Pericles felt himself punched in the chest. He regarded the arrow with vague surprise. How could they shoot like that? He could hear shouting and felt Neros cradle him but his vision was fading.

And past his brother's shoulder, he saw the end. The best ships of the Troian and Aiol navies were rounding the headland, moving swiftly like predators.

It was the last thing he was destined to see in this life. None would survive this, and it had only taken moments.

Neros saw the Warlord burst out of the gate in the distance, to lead a charge against his men to finish them. He kissed his dead brother farewell and laid him gently on his side. Then he stood up, hefting his shield. He would defend his brother's body to his final breath.

The Warlord was screaming.

Save something? … It was hard to hear anything amidst the chaos.

* * *

Hakeem was waiting with Leandros on the walkway of the gate, Elena stood by him. There were horses ready for the royals to flee if the battle turned against them here.

The docks area was riddled with traps and secret passages. The catapults were ready to rain down on the invaders. High above them the elves and tribesmen that had stayed to prevent a beach landing were streaming in to reinforce the city.

He could hardly believe the Athēnai took the bait. It was more than he could hope for, but then his exaltation turned to horror.

He hadn't understood the devastating effect of the elvish fire on the light wood of the warships. The Athēnai were finished as a fighting force and were being slaughtered with terrifying rapidity.

Hakeem knocked men out of his way as he ran for his horse, screaming at the top of his voice. A bell started to clamour urgently in the gate house. Those who heard it froze for an instant in shock. This could not be happening! It was too soon, it was far too soon.

And then, everyone was running.

Hakeem in desperation almost crashed at full gallop into the gate as men struggled to get it open in time. Nadeer galloped across the docks area as if running a race. The bodyguards were hard pressed to match Hakeem as he galloped forward, ignoring all danger.

* * *

The Warlord was screaming in Greek and Elvish at the top of his voice. What was he saying, Neros wondered? Save them?

"Lay down your weapons," he could hear in the distance as the Warlord galloped towards Neros. "Help me save them! Please, we must save the men!"

Neros let his javelins drop and shouted to his men to surrender. He took two strides to his dead trumpeter and he himself blew "retreat/ surrender". He heard other trumpets from the stricken fleet take up the call.

But Hakeem and his bodyguard continued at full gallop towards Neros. Was this a betrayal? Would he attack? The big man was almost brutal the way he wrenched his horse to a stop. He had swung one foot over and somehow vaulted one handed from the still-moving horse. He landed like a huge cat, perfectly balanced, just short of Neros.

He held his hands out, empty to show he meant no harm; all the time he was screaming in Greek and Elvish as loudly as he could, but even his loud voice was almost lost in the incredible din.

Some bell was ringing frantically in the gate house. The gates were thrown wide open. Not just warriors but healers and workers desperately spilled out, racing carts to the scene of catastrophe. This was never meant to happen.

He pushed past Neros and knelt to examine his dead brother. "Let me help him!"

He gently placed his palm on Pericles' forehead as if feeling for a fever. "I mean your friend no harm."

"He's dead!" shouted Neros in anguish and confusion.

"Save those from the ships!" Hakeem commanded.

Neros barked orders but then paused, bewildered, to see what Hakeem was doing with his dead brother. Hakeem had gone silent, as if in a trance; what on earth was he doing? Many of the nearby Greeks stopped too, perplexed, watching.

Men everywhere were running to try to fight the flames. Greeks and Troians, one minute enemies, were now battling together to rescue the men.

There was the incredible roar of the inferno, the shouting of the men and hideous screaming and piteous moans from the wounded. But amongst all the heat, the smoke, the din and the chaos Neros and the nearby Greeks stood there, entranced.

Hakeem had shifted and was cradling Pericles' head. What was he doing? Pericles was dead! This made no sense. Why focus on one corpse when so many living needed help? Hakeem's bodyguards sat their horses impassively, staring into the middle distance.

Perspiration broke out on Hakeem's face. He was involved in some struggle that none understood.

A lady elvish healer appeared as if out of nowhere.

This couldn't be the queen herself, running amongst her enemies. She was enchanting in her beauty. She lay out elf instruments on a cloth, then worked with desperate speed and skill to remove the arrow and staunch the bleeding.

"There's no time, he's going on me," Hakeem shouted desperately. "We will have to do it now. Here, in the open."

Some who saw what happened next said the Warlord 's face glowed faintly. Neros was not a religious man but he felt a surge, deep within himself. A great power was being released.

And then … Pericles trembled weakly … and … he took a breath! All nearby watched, hardly believing what they had just witnessed.

The elf queen, if that was who it was, was working at a feverish pace on the stricken warrior, putting stiches deep inside the wound. Hakeem was motionless as if carved in stone. He barely breathed but he was flushed and sweating with the effort.

Then the elf was closing the wound; Pericles' eyes opened, unfocused, then closed, his breathing shallow and regular, though he was pale like unto death.

Hakeem got up tiredly. "That was so close. I've never had to fight so hard. A few seconds and I would not have been able to save your friend. Stop! There's no need for that!"

Neros and all the nearby men had fallen to their knees in front of the Warlord . Tears were streaming down Neros's face as his voice rang out loudly above the din around them.

"Hakeem, Warlord of the Shantawi, I Neros, now leader of these men, do hereby pledge to you my service if you will have it. I will put none before you. By my living or by my dying I will serve you as long as I live!"

A mighty shout went up from the nearby invaders as they took the sacred oath. It was unprecedented. They had given Hakeem their personal allegiances. Athēnai never did that.

Hakeem straightened up and looked at the men solemnly. In a loud voice he cried out, "And I, Hakeem, accept your oath, my brothers from Athēnai. I will reward your service with my love, my respect and my loyalty in return."

He pulled Neros to his feet and hugged him; both were covered by Pericles' blood. Pericles was carried to the fortress for further care amidst cheers from the men. "I didn't really do much, I just prayed," he said quietly.

"Not much, Lord! You brought my brother back from the dead," Neros said in awe.

"I fear so many others will die this day," Hakeem said softly to Neros. Neros and the other nearby Greeks marvelled to see tears in the big man's eyes.

"Elena, go to the hospital, I will meet you there as soon as I may. Now brothers!" Hakeem was shouting urgently. "Quickly, the men! The men! Save the men, we try for the ships later."

People were bringing buckets. All the attackers and defenders had abandoned the fight and joined in the rescue. The Troian fleet was using pumps to spray sea water over nearby men and ships.

* * *

It was fortunate that the troop ships fared best or the slaughter would have been worse. They were of heavy wood, lower in the water and clustered in the middle. Perilously, they managed to evacuate soldiers and sailors via the eastern flank of the stricken fleet, showering the men with buckets and urgently pumped sea water.

It was only after rescuing as many as they could that there was any effort to save the ships, but it was too late. The triērēs were made of light wood and were high in the water. The fire spread quickly and reached blistering intensity in the tightly packed ships. Most had to be abandoned to their fate. Only twenty of the transports, a handful of triēris and only one of the four great warships were salvaged.

The light wood didn't sink, but the magnificent fleet was rendered into not much more than charred and smoking flotsam, any heavy cargo was at the bottom of the harbour.

Five thousand infantry were saved unhurt with almost three thousand injured, some seriously. The sailors fared worst – three thousand sailors were rescued unhurt, only half the number that had set sail. It was an appalling catastrophe, swift and unimaginably devastating.

The docks region was uninhabitable. Many Athēnai and Troians alike were overcome by smoke and heat and had to be helped away. Some of the palace and city above had to be evacuated and doors and windows sealed. Not much could be done about the dead, some were stretched out on the docks but even more were left floating somewhere in the debris.

A weary column of men, blackened and coughing, struggled up the steep slope. Athenians were helping Troians and Troians were helping Athenians. On the bluff outside the gates a steady breeze took the worst of the smoke away, but a ghastly smell hung over everything, and for miles around a great plume of smoke could be seen rising up into the air.

From afar it looked as if the great city itself was burning.

Of the most senior Athenian commanders only Neros and Menelaos, the officer that commanded the last of the giant warships, were alive and unwounded. Neros took overall command on behalf of the Greeks while Menelaos somehow stayed in the impossible conditions down by the harbour, directing the battle for salvage and rescue.

The Athēnai were stripped of whatever weapons and armour they had and put under guard in a large field outside the gates. Once the urgent fight to save men and ships was over most went into shock. They sat morose, slumped in despair, confused and disbelieving.

The Troian soldiers maintained a guard at a distance but were polite and respectful. There was no gloating, no taunting and no cruel slaughter.

But it was not hard-faced soldiers that the Greeks then faced.

The common people of Troia, those who had stayed, were sent amongst them: women, children, simple servants and elderly men. They treated them with kindness and patience. There was soft and gentle conversation, expressions of grief and attempts to ease them. Each was given a blanket, food and watered wine.

The organisation was flawless. Some of the children even had learnt phrases and polite terms in Attik. Neros was amazed. The kindness he judged was real, but it was all practised. They had been coached.

Thousands of blankets don't simply appear, and there was promise of tents tomorrow. It was very clever. He saw several men smile in response to the kindness and courtesy.

Facing caring women and respectful children made it difficult for the men to maintain their enmity towards the Troians. It made them wonder why they had come.

Leandros was going to address the prisoners and he invited Neros to join him.

So Neros joined the Troian king, an Athenian marine and another man whose face was concealed behind a scarf and a hat, all standing together on the walkway of a nearby wooden palisade.

Neros knew Leandros wanted to enlist all the Athēnai he could.

He would stay, but what could Leandros say to the rest? Most simply wanted to go home, they had lost too much. Some would be broken by the defeat. Some would grow in anger and hatred. To Neros it seemed an impossible task.

"Kinsmen, hear me!" Leandros's voice carried loudly to the men below. All talk ceased and men stopped to see what followed.

"Those who led you have forgotten the ancient ties that unite Troians and your great people. Have we not ever been your allies and staunch friends?"

It was true. Many of the Athēnai bowed their heads in shame. They had repaid the loyalty of their allies poorly. Was the king going to harangue them? It was in his rights to do so.

Leandros took a big breath. "Yet all here followed orders like the loyal and brave soldiers you are. So I call you blameless." He paused; many of the men looked up with interest to hear him say that.

"You were told you had to conquer Troia or your great city and homeland would be destroyed.

"I will give you proof you have been deceived. The man you trusted to lead you, betrayed you. Elis was here for himself, he cared nothing for you. He was working for the Makedónes and they offered him a rich reward."

There was a loud murmur at that. A few called out, "Don't listen to him, he will say anything."

Leandros smiled, his confidence was impressive. "I will give you clear proof in a moment. You be the judge.

"Firstly though, your great city fears Philippos will threaten you by cutting off your city's food. It is something he did before the battle of Chaeronea and forced the fight on you back then.

"I have here a new treaty for your city. I will guarantee to supply as much food as you need as long as the Makedónes allow me to." He paused dramatically. "And it will be at a discount to what you are currently paying.

"I understand that Athēnai is bound to give troops and supplies to the Makedónes but I will continue as long as Athēnai doesn't declare war on us in their own right again."

There was a loud murmur at that. That was extraordinarily generous. A great hurt had been forgiven.

Neros was impressed. The Makedónes had blockaded all trade from Troia. The price of grain had risen dramatically. Leandros was opening up a market for his goods. And, if it was accepted as it would be, it meant Neros would not be a traitor to Athēnai. It opened a pipeline for more disaffected Greeks.

Philippos would not be happy. But he was trying to woo the Greeks of Hellás. If he tried punitive measures, it would blow up in his face.

Leandros paused. "Any of you who wish to leave here may do so in full honour, leaving your weapons behind. I will do all in my power to assist you to get home. In the meantime, you will be treated with the courtesy due as our kin. All I will ask is your solemn oath never to bear arms against Troia again."

There was shouting and cheering, this was extraordinary!

"I stand before you in grief for those brave men down there that we have lost, and I stand before you an angry man," Leandros continued. "Angry that you brave men have been betrayed.

"Phokion was your greatest general. He said Athēnai and Thēbai could not win against the Makedónes, but did they listen? No, they punished him.

"What did Phokion say about this campaign? This man is a Troian spy but what he says is true. Today it is common knowledge in Athēnai. When you hear, knowing the great man, you will know what is said is true. I bring a report of his final words. Tell us!"

The spy stepped forward, he murmured but Leandros conveyed his words.

"Phokion stood up to the Makedónes' bullying. The Makedónes wanted him killed. Phokion opposed the attack here, against your old ally. Phokion said an attack on the docks showed Elis was a fool."

There was a murmuring amongst the Athēnai. It was the sort of thing he would have said.

"Elis said he was against the Makedónes. Why then did he have Phokion murdered to please them? Why was he in such unseemly haste?

"I will tell you. He wanted to have the army and navy gone while he had Phokion accused, so no one would speak for Phokion in the court of the people.

"Elis was promised the governorship of Troia. It was out of greed that he was in a hurry. That's why he attacked the docks."

(Leandros expected Elis would be given all the blame back in Athēnai … he could hardly protest.)

"Because, kin of mine," Leandros continued, having to raise his voice against the growing murmur,

"Where would we expect the attack to come? At the docks! Where would we be most fortified and prepared? Where do you think? A child would know. But Elis didn't care.

"You, you heard the words of Elis, what did you hear?"

He brought the Athenian marine forward.

"Sir, I heard my Lord Neros say it was a trap. I heard him say not to attack the docks. I heard him say not to set fire to the fort. That, too, he said was a trap.

"Neros called Elis a fool for doing so."

"And what was the reply?"

"My Lord Elis said he didn't care. He said if it was dangerous, the men would run faster. He shouted at my Lord Neros and my Lord Pericles and ordered them to be the first off the boats. He called them cowards, but he was going to wait back on the command ship where he thought it was safe."

"So are you saying to me that Elis ordered an attack on an area he knew was heavily defended. He sent his men into a huge trap and said he didn't care. It would make them run faster? "

The marine hesitated. "I suppose if you put it that way, yes sir."

There was angry shouting. The men were appalled by the treachery of their leader, but knowing Elis they knew it was true. It was he that caused so many to die. It was he that had made them lose.

Leandros waited till it settled. He started talking slowly and deliberately.

"Do you think for a moment it is you who have failed? You followed orders even when you yourselves knew it had to be a trap. Of course you did. I call each and every one of you brave almost beyond belief.

"It was Elis who didn't care. He was bought by the Makedónes. It was the Makedónes who didn't care. They want us to kill each other off. They want brothers fighting brothers."

Leandros had managed to convince every single one in the audience that they knew it was a trap ...

"Neros!" he beckoned. "I don't want you to betray any of your previous loyalties. So you can answer or not. But Elis, should he have attacked the docks, knowing what anyone must know? Did he listen to reason?"

Neros coughed. "It pains me to say so but Elis was arrogant and stupid. He didn't care about his men and it is his fault that so many good men have died. He wanted to gain wealth for himself by taking over Troia. They should never have killed Phokion. I followed orders as a soldier but we should never have come here. We should never have fought against our friends." Then Neros felt a powerful feeling of love and pride go through him for his new leaders. Even though he knew all of this was staged, it rather made him more, not less, certain that he had done the right thing in joining with the Warlord .

"For my part," he said, "I am staying to fight with Hakeem against our real enemy. I tell you the rumour you may have heard is true. I met face to face with Hakeem on the battlefield. He risked his life and his horse in his haste to save our men even though we had come against him. I myself heard him yell to save our men and not the fine ships we had brought.