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

The veteran soldier called his stichos of sixteen men. Soon they disappeared into the shrub. Árgos appeared at his elbow and forcefully drew him back into the shelter of some rocks.

"You shouldn't have sent them out, sir. It's elves."

"What would you have me do?" Erastos asked, frightened.

"Leave if we could," Árgos said as they looked out.

It seemed like they waited an eternity; Erastos had to remind himself to breathe. From a patch of bushes high up near the ridge there was the sound of intense struggle. Men were screaming and yelling. Before any of them on the beach could react, there was silence.

High up, a tall, pale blonde figure burst out of cover, running swiftly. At a command from Árgos, three squads of marines gave chase.

"Be careful men, you know it is a trap. They will be waiting," Árgos shouted as they left.

Erastos called to the rest of the men to take cover.

"Elves wouldn't let themselves be seen like that by accident," Árgos said conversationally.

Erastos didn't reply, he was straining his eyes. He was feeling more frightened by the fact that he couldn't see anything.

"How many are there, do you think?" he asked.

"Less than a hundred or we would be all dead by now, but it won't take many."

"But we have four hundred men!"

"Yes, we do," Árgos agreed. "Let's dig in. Maybe some of us will last till the boats return. I doubt it." He spat in disgust. "We could have picked something better to die for than this shitty beach."

"But elves are mortal, not much different to us," Erastos replied, not understanding. "They can be killed."

"So let's hope we can kill a good few before they finish us all off," Árgos said grimly.

Árgos' men didn't get far this time. There was a great commotion and then they were scrambling down the hill, carrying three of their number, as well as they could over the broken ground, they were retreating in good order, crouched low and with their light shields held up.

Four more were hit before they made safety. It looked like the trees themselves were shooting at them. The elves were shooting through the leaves.

"We need more archers!" Erastos cursed.

"Our archers need to see something before they can shoot it," Árgos said, glancing around.

Erastos nodded; he had lost thirty men killed or injured and they had seen one elf from a distance. Árgos wasn't joking when he talked about the elves.

He grimly called his decadarchoi (sergeants) over.

"I don't have to tell you this mission is already a failure," Erastos started. "We aren't here to force a battle. We were supposed to land undetected.

"We are facing elves. We can't know for certain how many, but much less than us. We are a long way from any major town so I doubt they can be reinforced before we leave.

"They know where we are and we have no idea where they are. The sensible thing would be to hole up till we are relieved. Árgos says they will come at us in the dark.

"Or we can go into the scrub in force and try to flush them out. What do you say?"

As he waited for their answer, he looked at each of his decadarchoi. None of them were the sort of men who would choose hiding. Árgos, as second in command, spoke for them.

"I think it will cost us men, but the elves won't expect it. They have no answer to our infantry, if only we can close with them. It's better than waiting here for them to pick us off, Lord."

"Alright then," Erastos smiled. "We are in a gully that leads about a third of the way up to top. I say we take it in a rush.

"The bowmen will be in the centre guarded by our hoplitai and the marines will be on the outside so they have room for their javelins. Following up will be two squads of marines to help any wounded. Once we make the ridge, our marines can use their javelins to better effect downhill, and we will find cover easier. We will leave a squad of hoplitai and ten archers with our wounded here.

"I don't have to tell you breaking cover when we don't know where the enemies are is dangerous but we may just catch those damn elves napping." Everyone nodded.

Erastos finished with, "Nothing too fancy, be ready in five minutes. I'll lead."

"With respect, Lord!" Árgos began indignantly.

Árgos was younger and fitter, and more expendable. Erastos held up his hand to forestall him.

"I'm sorry, my friend. No one doubts your courage, but these cursed wood vermin have been killing my men. This time you will take the safer position and I will lead from the front. That's an order. Get your men ready."

Erastos waited a few moments more, then cried out, "Let's go!" He charged up the gully with his shield defensively raised.

An elvish arrow hit the side of the shield. He hoped it was a panicked shot. It was almost impossible to do anything vaguely resembling a charge uphill, slipping and stumbling over the uneven ground, his legs bleeding from the brambles. His legs and chest soon felt as if they were on fire and he couldn't get enough air, but his rage drove him on.

They all pounded up the slope, pushing around and through the heavy scrub. The elves were not ready at all, there were thirteen concealed along the line of the charge. Erastos came on the first one who quickly threw his bow down and grabbed for his sword.

As the elf tried to back up on the loose soil he lost his footing and fell, unbalanced and helpless at Erastos's feet. Erastos easily rammed his short sword home. An arrow missed his head by inches as he ducked down. Elves were shooting from the sides. Then his own men passed him, scrambling up the hill.

He grabbed the elf sword from the dying man. He wasn't used to the balance but there was no way he was going to leave an elf long sword behind. Then he followed his men who had made the ridge.

As he reached them, they let out a great cheer. Thirteen elves dead.

While the hoplitai formed a square, crouched behind their large shields, the others in the centre frantically started to dig a defensive trench.

A few arrows started to thud into their shields from further along the ridge and Erastos nodded to Árgos. Árgos called to some of his men and ran in the direction the arrows came from.

He surprised two elf bowmen, who couldn't move quickly enough. They died under a barrage of javelins, far more than were needed.

His men were angry.

Then arrows started to pepper his forward position. It was tempting to chase the elves deeper into the scrub but that would prove fatal. Árgos ran back to find the main group already had five injured, two seemed to be dying, all in the short time he was away.

From a ridge far back something heavy fired. There was a huge moist "thunk" from amongst the crouching men followed immediately by a curdling scream cut short.

"Oxybeles!" (bolt thrower) Erastos cursed.

It was a giant composite bow on a tripod drawn by a winch.

It could punch a hole through bronze plate at four hundred yards. No one used them in this sort of terrain. At least until now.

And when had they moved it into position?

Trust those cursed elves.

Perhaps they could capture it. As Árgos thought about it, they got hit by a bolt from another direction and normal arrows were seeking out further targets.

"We have to get out of here!" Árgos shouted desperately.

Erastos snarled in frustration. "Cursed cowardly bastards. We don't have time to dig in. We can't hold this bloody ridge after all."

With an order from Erastos, the men began a perilous retreat down the treacherous slope. It was hard to keep their shields up and they were being attacked from several directions at once.

It was a costly retreat.

Árgos panted in the shelter of the gully. "I'm not sorry we did that, sir. Shame we couldn't hold the ridge."

Erastos couldn't reply; he was too overcome with anger.

Just outside of the shelter were piteous cries from their wounded. Árgos swore and started to take off his breast plate and unbuckle his sword.

"What are you doing? They're waiting to kill you," Erastos shouted.

"They are elves, sir," Árgos said breathlessly. "They won't stop me collecting the wounded."

He called out loudly for a truce and stood, lowering his shield, before discarding it and signalling to the unseen watchers. There was no attempt to shoot him and soon he returned, staggering under the weight of one of the wounded. He organised a small party to collect the rest.

Erastos shook his head when Árgos had finished. "I don't believe it. They shoot you in the back like cowards, but they allow you to collect your wounded."

Árgos nodded. "Yes sir, elves sir." He buckled on his armour.

The truce was over.

* * *

It was midday of the second day. The Skythoi were familiar with hide-and-seek warfare in the woods and at dawn had quietly slipped out of the camp. Only ten of the human bowmen returned. Madis, their best Skythian bowman, estimated there were less than forty elves left and that he and his men (including some that did not return) had killed maybe a dozen, maybe even more.

The Makedóne casualty count was rapidly rising. There were two hundred men fully fit.

The night had been worse, the cursed daimôn spawn could see in the dark.

Árgos had them light a great fire, as far from the gully as they dared. Without this, they would have been near wiped out.

They had made a few daytime sorties against the elves but they caught few now. At least they had made the elves wary of getting too close, and the elvish bowmen were not as nearly as effective as they had been.

They had to last another day and two full nights. Each man tried to dig deeper as they scanned the bush. You could smell fear. It was written on every man's face.

* * *

It was the last day. There was desultory fire from a hidden catapult now but the night had been terrible. The fire had run out of fuel and the shadows seemed to be shooting arrows at them from every where.

Tonight the elves would finish them.

"I want to show them we are going," Árgos said, taking his armour off again.

"It's too dangerous," Erastos replied. "Those inhuman wretches will never let any of us leave here alive."

"Sir, I know something of elves. They know we are beaten. If they think we are leaving, they will let us all go."

There didn't seem to be much choice. "Alright, we will try it your way."

Árgos discarded his weapons and stood up and slowly lowered his shield.

The catapult fell silent. He considered walking into the bush and having a parley but he was too frightened and too angry.

He called to some men and they started to move some wounded down to the small beach. The woods remained in eerie silence as the Greeks assembled on the beach. His men threw themselves down, exhausted and defeated. Erastos felt an itchy feeling in his exposed back as he stood beside Árgos. Only some stubbornness or unknown reserves kept Erastos awake and in command.

* * *

Morning was not far away. Aleos, the commander of the three Makedónes Triērēs, peered cautiously through the darkness. The sailors were careful to make little noise. He flashed the lantern but there was no reply. He felt a surge of fear but then he heard a voice carry across the water; it was Árgos.

"Is that you, Aleos? Thank the Gods! We thought you would never come. The code signal is 'Parmenion's raiders' though we never earnt it."

"Árgos, has something gone wrong?"

"Elves, sir. We are in a bad way. They allowed us to come down to the beach but it is best if only one ship approaches. And whatever you do, don't unload soldiers or try to move up the beach."

Aleos gave the orders to move cautiously forward. He spoke softly, as sound carried over the water. "Get ready. I think it is a trap."

As he peered through the gloom he could see a group of men huddled on the beach. He leapt down alone. His lantern revealed men far gone with suffering and fatigue. He hardly recognised his friends.

"How many of you are there?" he asked in horror.

Erastos merely shook his head, unable to speak.

"We have two hundred, about half are injured, many seriously," Árgos replied grimly. "Most of us have had no sleep. The elves are still out there but they'll let us leave."

Aleos peered out nervously into the darkness but he could see nothing. He realised the lantern made him a target and lowered it quickly.

"How many?" he asked. "How many were there?"

"We don't know, maybe fifty-five or sixty to start with. We managed to kill twenty-five or more of them."

Aleos looked at him, astounded.

Half Erastos's command was killed, only a quarter uninjured and they were now too far gone to defend themselves. And this was done in three days, and he said there were only thirty or forty elves left out there.

"We were lucky to kill that number," Árgos said softly. "And now they are allowing us to leave."

 

 

 

Chapter 19: A Desperate Race, Troubling Dreams

Korrina knew the agony the little elf seeress bore. She saw her exhaustion and each night treated her bruises and saddle sores as best she could. Yet the little elf girl kept urging them on, she wouldn't let them slow the pace or camp before all light had gone. The girl was badly frightened and it was her fear that drove them all.

Korrina remembered when Sophie and Daniel had burst back into the room that night. They were beside themselves. Sophie wanted to leave there and then. She was agitated, crying, talking about the King's vision of the Queen and Jacinta being overcome by barbarians in the wilderness.

She said that Queen Elena and Jacinta would be going into the wilds of the Skamandros valley searching for the ruins of Elvish Troia.

They had left with Omar and as many monks as they could, quickly assembling any who were fit and free to go. Sophie insisted there would be no time to gather a larger force with Karsh already drained of fighting men. None of them wanted to take two children, especially Sophie, but such was the power of Sophie's vision that they had no choice. Only she could lead them, and without Daniel, she said, all would fail.

Now Omar, with just over eighty fully armoured monks, Korrina, Eunike, Sophie and Daniel were in a desperate race to reach the ruins of Elvish Troia while there was still time.

Korrina was puzzled over the interaction between the two children. Daniel was strangely caring over a much younger girl that he had only just met. She often caught him casting worried glances at her. As soon as they stopped for the night he would rush to help her. When asked, Sophie teased that he was in love with her. That should have made him run a mile.

Once when she stumbled Daniel caught her and held her up. She sighed for a moment, resting wearily against him, giving him a look of gratitude and something like love. Korrina often caught them whispering to each other or exchanging looks.

Meanwhile the other members of the party pressed grimly on.

Yesterday they had passed Sardeis without pause and soon they would reach the coastal mountains leading to the Troad. It seemed like they had been travelling forever with little pause and yet they feared they would not get there in time.

* * *

Daniel's heart felt like it was breaking as he watched the brave little girl. Even he was finding it exhausting, his own body seemed to be all aching and bruises. He was scared, for her.

She was unused to riding. She seemed so tiny and fragile. She pushed herself so hard, was she eating enough? She was the seeress and they needed her, they all needed her.

"Do you know what's happening to Jacinta?" Daniel whispered to Sophie when he helped her down. The poor girl looked asleep on her feet. He felt like picking her up and carrying her to the campsite.

"No, Daniel," the little girl said tiredly. "I find it hard to reach Jacinta and I am too tired.

"The Warlord has defeated an Athēnai attack on Troia. Jacinta and her mother are already in the Troian plain. They will be attacked there. There are far greater powers than mine searching to trap them. We don't have enough with us; the number sent against them is too great."

"What can we do?" Daniel said, frightened.

"I will try to reach Princess Seléne. She is still in Troia. If I tell you how, can you try to reach Jacinta? You know her, which will make it easier. I simply can't do all that I have to do and that as well."

"What can Princess Seléne do to help?"

"I don't know, Daniel. I don't know."

* * *

Seléne was tossing and turning. She woke in a fright. It was the cold time of the night before dawn, yet she sat up panting and sweating in her bed. She had had an awful vision of Jacinta and Elena fighting with a small force against an army of strangers.

It was the vision her father had had.

So her ride from Elgard had not prevented this. She knew, without knowing how, that it would happen in the Skamandros valley. Of course! They had not gone to Abydos, as everyone was told. They were searching for the ruins of Elvish Troia.

Her sister and her best friend were in terrible danger.

* * *

That very same night, there were two others who were having strange and important dreams.

Pericles was standing barefoot on a great white staircase, each step twice the normal height.

It looked like marble but it was without texture or coldness as if it wasn't really there. It stretched into murky distance on either side of him and also above and below. It seemed to go on forever. Somehow he knew this staircase was inside himself, somewhere deep.

He had to walk down. It was a simple thing, but his body would not obey his command. He heard someone, was it Seléne? But he couldn't move. Then he had a sense of a small woman calling to him … did she have red hair?

"Trust in the Great Mother," she encouraged.

He cried out to Athēnā, the ancient patron goddess of Athēnai.

A surge went through him, strangely familiar, releasing him.

"Seléne is in desperate need of you, Pericles," the woman was saying.

He moved down three steps.

"And now to the right side …"

There were all sorts of half-seen shapes. He moved through them till he came to a fountain falling gently into a bowl. He bent to drink its water. It was clear and pure.

"It is the wellspring from which your life force comes," the stranger said. "It will give you the energy that was drained when the paladin healed you."

As he drank, he felt the energy flooding back to his body.

* * *

The other person having a strange dream that night was Jacinta.

"Daniel, am I dreaming?" Jacinta called out in her sleep.

"Yes, you are. You are in terrible danger. There are a thousand Hun cavalry headed your way.

"And who, may I ask, is Drakon, Jacinta?"

"Daniel, stop reading my mind!"

"I'm not, you're shouting his name at me."

"No I'm not. Can you teach me how to control my thoughts in dreams? … and who is Sophie for that matter? You are shouting her name at me."

"Just get ready. They will come on the afternoon of the third day. By the way, the temple of the Mother Goddess is about ten stadia northeast of where you're digging … A stádion, Jacinta! Don't you know anything? The size of a stadium of course. Ten stadia is a mile."

Jacinta felt like poking her tongue out at him in her sleep.

"Don't worry about Sophie, she's only nine," Daniel added.

"That's not how you are thinking about her. How do you know where the temple is? How did you learn to talk to me in my sleep?"

"The answer to all that is simple … I have no idea. Forget about all that and just concentrate on those thousand Huns."

"Someone else came to me in my sleep, weeks ago. It was a small red-haired woman in her forties. I think she was an elf, but she had great power."

"I don't know who that can be, Sophie might know. The enemy has their own seers of great power searching for you. Be very careful of that woman, Jacinta."

"Daniel, I think you have just saved my life. I miss you so much. I wish I could give you a big kiss."

"Jacinta, I'd like that, would you be willing to promise me that if I visit you, you'll make it a slow one? If you do, I'll try to visit, I promise."

Jacinta smiled in her sleep. "Alright Daniel, I promise that."

Where was Daniel? He wasn't going to visit her, but she would like him to.

Great Apollōn!

A thousand Huns!

* * *

Elena was startled to be shaken awake by Jacinta in the pre-dawn light.

Elena was sticky, dirty and weary from working hard in the heat, then tired from sleeping on the hard ground and a thousand worries, but one look at Jacinta's frightened face and she was wide awake.

She felt a surge of panic to hear the news. She remembered only too well the last time she was hunted by assassins in the wilderness. Back then, so many people had died for her, good people, fine people.

Her enemies had lost the mirror of far seeing but someone of power, a seer, was tracking her.

And they knew who Jacinta was! The hunt had not ceased, it had merely paused and she was so easily caught. What awful end had she led her daughter and the men with them to?

* * *

Drakon and Galenos were already awake and she called them aside. Jacinta explained the dreadful warning she had received. The Troian commander, Galenos, merely looked thoughtful.

Drakon scanned the horizon, the sun had just started to rise.

"My Lady, it was a dream, can we trust it?"

Elena glared at Drakon, fear lent her anger. "You know who Jacinta is? We are not here because of a frivolous whim of a bored queen, Drakon."

Drakon was completely abashed. "I'm sorry, my Queen. My young Lady Jacinta, please accept my apologies. I merely asked."

Jacinta flashed him an apologetic smile and he smiled back at her a little shyly.

"I would not endanger your men or my kingdom on a whim," Elena said, softer. "This is the Eldest and we search for the 'book that must never be read'.

"It is a book of forbidden spells. Others now come to prevent us finding it. Do you think it is me they are after, Drakon?"

Drakon looked puzzled. "Of course, my Queen!"

"You are wrong; if they find me, they will kill me. But it is not me they are after. It was not me they were really after before. It is my daughter they have come to kill."

Jacinta nodded in grim acknowledgement. "There are too many, Drakon," she added.

A look of fear passed across Drakan's face. "We will stop them," he said determinedly, and then he smiled gently at Jacinta. "You won't get out of your next lesson that easily, my little human. If I need to, I will die for you, Jacinta!"

Drakon realised he had muttered the last out loud.

"No you won't!" Jacinta said. "You're not getting out of giving me the next lesson that easily either."

"Great Lady of the Elves, with your permission, I will make the arrangements," Galenos offered formally. Elena nodded to the veteran Greek captain. His competence was reassuring, but what could he do?

"I would like to get both of you away," Galenos said, considering. "But if we tried that now, you would only be caught on the plain. Jacinta says they have some way of locating you through some spell. You're safer here and we can dig in," Galenos continued, in a determined voice. "I will send for help immediately but I'm afraid it can't come soon. We will have to hang on somehow."

As Drakon stood up Jacinta moved forward and grabbed him by the shoulders and kissed him firmly on the lips. "Just keep alive, Drakon."

Drakon blushed but as he followed Galenos out he looked pleased.

Galenos sent couriers urgently to Troia and through a shortcut to Abydos.

There were a few small garrisons closer in the villages of the Troad itself. but they were too small

It would take almost a week for help to reach them. How under the sun could he keep them alive that long?

* * *

"You can't come," Seléne said firmly. 'You haven't recovered."

"Well," replied Pericles. "Do you now plan to go to Leandros and explain why he has to empty this fortress of his few remaining troops just because you had a dream?

"I have three hundred men fully recovered. I have already talked to them and they would love to see some action. We can be there on the third day, it is a day after the Hun, but your queen, who is now also my queen, has Galenos, it will be soon enough."

"You have already talked to them? How …"

"Elf, you know little of us Greeks. We are a clever people."

He gave her a smug look. "They will not do anything without me, of course. If you talk to me nicely, I might bring them along. You would look awfully silly arriving just by yourself, don't you think?"

"But you believe me?"

"Of course I do. And besides, I won't let the woman I love go into danger without me."

"Man of Greece, do you really mean that?" Seléne melted into his arms and reached up to kiss him and then rest her head on his shoulder.

"Not at all, you would never look silly," he murmured gently to the elf, stroking her hair. "To me you would always look beautiful and completely wonderful. Seléne, I would follow you to the end of the earth. … even if you are a little short for an elf. "

He could feel her smiling as she kissed him again.

"Seléne, you didn't come to me in my dream last night by any chance?" he asked.

Seléne pushed him away to look at him in mock consternation. A mischievous look appeared on her face. "Pericles! And what sort of dream was that? Tell me, I must know!" Then she smiled and kissed him more, pressing her body against his.

* * *

"Pericles, are you sure you can do this?" Seléne asked concernedly as they were about to leave. "You have been as weak as a newborn kitten."

Pericles looked completely unconcerned. "I told you, you know little of us Greeks. You don't realise how tough we really are. Especially 'Pericles' Peltastae'!" He called this loudly and his men let out a great cheer.

"In fact, I'll prove it. I'll run with my men this morning. We can easily outrun you, elf." He passed his horse to one of his sergeants.

"Now you're just being completely silly. You'll be unconscious and draped over the saddle in a few minutes. Besides … no one can outrun an elf!"

Pericles merely looked at her in a challenging way.

Seléne slid off her horse gracefully and collected her gorytos (holder for a short bow and quiver) to run with.

She looked so beautiful! She was wearing light cotton tawny clothes of an elf scout with long pants and a long-sleeve blouse but decorated with yellow, green and red stitching.

On her head she had a low suede hat with a long dyed feather in its band. Her glossy, black hair was tied in a simple ponytail.

"Alright, man from Greece. We will see, but I warn you, few can keep up with an elf!"

The Athēnai peltastae were known for their speed and endurance. Like most young Greeks, especially their peltastēs, every single one was a superb athlete. But this time they had taken on more than they could cope with. They were about to be shamed.

Seléne, a girl, carrying her gear, sprang ahead in a loping pace. In a short space a pattern emerged with Seléne waiting at the crest of each hill for the sweating Greek warriors struggling doggedly to keep up with her.

After a few hours of this, Pericles called out, laughing breathlessly. "Seléne, enough. You have made your point!"

In an instant, Seléne was by his side, contrite and anxious. "I'm so sorry, Pericles. I was enjoying the exercise and I forgot your weakness. Please forgive me."

Pericles caught her hand and kissed it, overcome with laughter. "No, I feel wonderful, really. It must be having you nearby that has done it. But you have proven your point, elf. If you don't slow down, none of us will be able to fight when we reach there."

Seléne, confused by a recovery she did not understand, gave him a tentative smile.

All the Greeks were grinning and laughing, they had been bested by a girl.

* * *

As they camped that night, Seléne explained the directions from where they were. She couldn't explain how she knew. She just knew.

They were getting ready to sleep and Seléne moved over to sit next to Pericles.

"Pericles," Seléne whispered, staring out into the darkness. "I didn't want to love you but you give me no choice. I am frightened and sick to the heart. Elena is my sister and my dearest friend. When I was born, she protected me and cared for me. I loved her and never understood why my own mother and father treated her so badly. When I was told she was dead it felt like part of me had died with her. My father became sick, he realised he loved her but then it was too late.

"Then Nikan returned. I couldn't keep away from him. Elena was dead, my father dying and my mother couldn't protect me. He threw me in his dungeon. I was alone. I had no hope. I wanted to die. Nikan made me feel so dirty and worthless and I was terrified.

"Like a miracle, Elena came for me. She brought the others: Héctor, Hakeem and Jacinta. They made me feel safe again. They loved me, they made me laugh again. They made me feel alive. And now, two of those I love more than anything in this world are out there in danger." She paused. "I just want to say I am so grateful to have you, Pericles."

"Seléne, I love you. Don't worry, Elena is hard to kill. The men she has will die to protect her. And you haven't seen us Greeks when we have a chance to fight."

"Pericles, will you hold me?" Seléne asked softly. "I won't sleep tonight but if you hold me, I'll lie very still, I promise."

"Seléne holding you would be wonderful. But you'll get nothing more than cuddling from me after you ran me and my men into the ground today. We will all need our sleep tonight."

There was no tent or privacy. Pericles felt wonderful cuddling the young elf. With difficulty he took control of his thoughts, fighting them as they wanted to stray and make him want more. He knew anything else for Seléne would be too much after what she had been through.

He fell into a deep sleep. Seléne cuddled into the sleeping form of her gorgeous Greek man. She expected to stay awake most of the night but to her surprise she woke in the morning to find Pericles was already up and getting ready. She hadn't had a sleep like that in months.

The men couldn't help but grin at her, but in a kindly, respectful way. They all called her "my Lady" or "Princess". Seléne, the elf princess, was loved by all the people. And now she was their commander's lady. In a special way she was their lady as well.

Seléne smiled. Despite her fear it was very reassuring in this wilderness to have three hundred extremely tough looking Greeks around her, ready to look after her.

* * *

The horses were to be sent with the workmen to a nearby village. It would be quick suicide to even try to flee with so many Huns hunting them.

Jacinta would never have the ability with horses that her elf mother or her Shantawi father had, but she had come to understand some of their language. Sheera whinnied and snuffled Jacinta in greeting as she came to bid her goodbye.

The animals knew something was wrong. She was frightened, head high, her tail clamped down, her ears were stiff and pointing slightly back.

She relaxed a little as Jacinta fussed over her. She snorted and whinnied a final goodbye as she was led away. Now the small party was committed, they were on foot and would stay. Would she ever see her horse again?

* * *

The sun beat down mercilessly but the summit camp was witness to frantically toiling humans and elves.

Galenos had already done a lot of work of fortifying their summit camp over the weeks, making it secure, storing water and supplies.

Greek soldiers have a favourite proverb: "The wise man cooks before he is hungry."

They also have a near mania about building earthworks and fortifying their camps. Give them a night and a hill and it would have at least a ditch. Give them a week on the same spot and they would have a small fort.

The summit camp was an ideal spot to defend. The huge hill towered over the plain below. It would be impossible for the enemy to use their horses up the hill. The current excavations were at one end and Galenos had already cleared the bush from around it.

They had only dug one excavation hole. At Jacinta's suggestion, they had started where she thought the road up from the docks joined the city. This proved fortunate. The excavation was at one end so a steep slope would guard their rear and, on either side, it would be too narrow for a massed attack.

Galenos planned that the attack, when it came, would come from only one direction. He hoped to funnel the attackers so the battle would occur over a short section where the vastly superior numbers of the enemy wouldn't be overwhelming.

He had raised an inner and outer earth wall with a ditch in between. There were gaps and vantage points for archers along the top. In front of this there were sharpened stakes, pot holes and the natural uneven terrain to slow an infantry charge.

The elves helped where they could, but were completely bemused by it all. Elves build marvellous strong stone fortresses but in the wilderness rely on stealth and wariness. They didn't really understand field fortifications and digging and clearing scrub is one of the least favourite activities of all for an elf.

A lot of dirt had been brought up from the pit and Galenos now put the final touches on his preparations by building the side and rear walls higher and increasing the unevenness of a side approach. The higher walls brought anyone trying to flank them into range of elvish archers.

He would like to make the Hun pay before they gained the summit. That was certainly going to be more difficult. The problem was the size of the summit and the small numbers of defenders. Two hundred men had seemed a ridiculously large bodyguard, now it seemed woefully inadequate.

There were too many possible approaches and too many Huns, but Galenos would try.

He would station the Greeks defending the camp and use the elves as skirmishers across the broader summit. The Greeks in formation were better at facing a charge. Unfortunately he only had a hundred Greeks and they were the lightly armoured peltastae. It would have been nice to have some hoplitai.

For that matter, it would be nice to have the time and materials to build traps and siege weapons he told himself, with a chuckle. While he was wishing for things he couldn't have, he may as well add Hakeem and a few centuries of Shantawi.

Two hundred men!

Ah well, the unlucky man has to make his own luck, or so they say.

Their hole had to be deep to reach the ancient ruins. They had uncovered a well which still gave water but was slow to refill. Near to this, deep down, was a section of city wall and an ancient water cistern, truly vast and partly intact. It had a narrow opening, and water in the bottom.

From the upper camp they could flee to the excavated cistern in the likely event that they were about to be overrun. There they had enlarged a large mud island which was high up at the opposite corner and occupied most of the cistern. Now they fortified it with earthworks as best as they could. This is where they had stored their supplies and would take their wounded.

It would be crowded and uncomfortable but defensible as a last refuge, but there were two serious problems with it. Any retreat down to it would be dangerous and difficult and would require a rear guard. Also the barbarians could try to smoke them out or much more simply, seal them in.

It could very well become their tomb.

* * *

Jacinta had finished helping Elena set up her "hospital" in the cistern. She was now helping some of the elves who were carefully making and repairing arrows. The arrow fletching (feathering) hits the bow lightly as it passes and the arrow is kicked ever so slightly to one side.

The shaft needs just the right amount of 'spring' to bring it back on target.

It needed hard wood, carefully selected, cured and straightened by heat. Elite archers made their own arrows but there were standard arrows they could all share. Elves had an almost obsession with carrying spares for archery: arrows, shafts, heads and fletching, but now what they had didn't seem enough.

One of the elves paused in his labour. "They are coming. I can sense it in the wind."

 

Chapter 20: The Battle of the Summit

Galenos trotted back to the camp. "They are coming!"

The small bands of defenders looked fearfully at the great cloud of dust raised by the approaching horsemen. They had two hundred infantry and the barbarians had a thousand horsemen.

Elena thought of the messengers they had sent to Troia with a shiver. The barbarians had come from that way.

She hoped the messengers they had sent to Abydos down the forest path had gotten through.

The Hun split up into several groups to scout the terrain and look for weaknesses. At this distance, they seemed tiny figures of horsemen, bunched in groups and moving in slow motion. It was very un-nerving. They seemed to know exactly where to come and all about the small group protecting Elena and Jacinta.

Jacinta was standing next to Elena, watching the distant enemy in horrified fascination. "Mother, how did they find us here?"

"Whoever sent them is very powerful. These men must have set out at least half a year ago, before we even knew where we would be," Elena started. "This is no scouting party; they have come to kill us."

Jacinta shivered. "They don't look as unkempt as I have heard them described."

"Don't listen to that nonsense written about Hun by bigoted fools who have never seen one. They are great fighters, known for their strength and determination," Elena said grimly. "If they had caught us in the open, it would be over in moments. This is a good spot to defend but there are too many.

"Jacinta, I have brought us here to die."

Jacinta picked up her bow grimly. "We don't have Hakeem here, but I am Hakeem's daughter and you are Hakeem's wife. We are not dead yet, and we will not die as easily as they think."

* * *

One of the elvish scouts ran up to report to Galenos. The Huns had sent a force of maybe three hundred to climb the north side of the hill, furthest away from the defenders' camp.

Galenos smiled and turned to Drakon. "They don't seem to know much about elves. I was wondering if you and your elves could give them an education for me."

Drakon gave his friend a broad grin. "It will be a pleasure, my Lord."

He signalled to his men who ran off at speed to greet their visitors. The chance of having elvish archers on the high ground while the Turks were climbing a steep slope on foot through rough terrain was a wonderful chance, far too good to give up.

The next two hours saw a deadly game of hide and seek.

The Turks were exposed and shooting uphill. They are known for their courage and determination but they lost more than half their assault force before they were forced to stay where they were, and try to return fire from under cover.

But Turks also have a reputation for cunning.

It is hard, near impossible, to sneak up on a group of elves in the wild, but while they were distracted, a hundred Turks had done just that. They suddenly appeared between the elves and the camp, at the same time the ones climbing the slope were reinforced and were making a renewed assault on the slope.

The elves faced being caught between the two and wiped out.

There was a loud roar as sixty angry Greeks charged full on at the flanking Turks. The Turks were caught between the elves and the Greeks. They were lightly armoured, with bows and swords. Very few had shields and they were disastrously exposed.

Galenos's peltastae Greeks caught most of the arrows on their shields and replied with javelins catching the Hun in an impossible position. They seemed to virtually charge over the top of the enemy, leaving only dead and dying in their wake.

"We have to get out of here!" shouted Galenos to Drakon urgently; the other Turks were not far from the summit. "Our luck has just run out."

Drakon flashed his friend a grin. "Without you Greeks, our luck would have run out already. I'm glad we only have a thousand Turks to face and not a score or more of you Greeks."

They quickly retrieved javelins, arrows and anything else they could and ran back to the camp. There were only three dead and five wounded defenders, and maybe as much as a quarter of the barbarian force was dead or injured, but the Turks had gained the summit.

There could only be one outcome now.

* * *

It looked like the Turks would leave them alone for the rest of the day. They were setting up in the old Greek base camp and were progressively moving men and equipment to their own summit camp at the other end of the hill. The humans and elves rested in shifts, keeping a wary watch on their enemy. There wasn't much else they could do.

As the shadows began to lengthen, Galenos came upon a group of elves who had lit a small fire and were now pouring a little water over it to put it out.

Galenos nodded at the thick black sludge they were spooning into a dish.

"Are you men thinking what I think you are thinking?" he asked, smiling.

"Permission to proceed, sir," one of the elves replied.

"Just as long as I can come along," he smiled.

"It would be a great honour, sir!" the elf replied, starting to paint his face with the charcoal.

Who had ever said elves were rude? Galenos thought. He settled down to rest a bit before he would be needed.

* * *

Seléne somehow knew they would sight the ruins of Troia sometime early in the morning. Pericles and his men had made their final camp that night. They lit no fires and ate cold rations.

There was a nearby stream and Seléne asked Pericles if he would come with her while she washed herself. Pericles tried to look everywhere else but at the young elf girl bathing. Seléne dried herself and wrapped herself in a large towel. Pericles suggested she finish getting dressed and they return to the main camp but Seléne seemed agitated and restless.

"Pericles, you can't understand what you mean to me. I love you so much," she said.

Pericles stood in front of her to stop her pacing and took her in his arms. "Seléne, I love you. I will always love you. That you love me is wonderful news," he said. "I think I know what's worrying you."

"How could you?" she asked.

"It's tomorrow, we will be fighting. It's normal to be nervous before a battle."

Seléne nodded, her eyes searched his face anxiously.

"Promise me you will not lead the charge, Pericles. Please promise me."

"Seléne," said Pericles patiently. "I can't promise that. I will be careful, that's all I can promise."

Seléne nodded miserably. She couldn't love a Pericles who could shirk his duty.

"Pericles, if I lost you, I would die! I don't think I can live without you!"

Pericles held her to him gently. "I plan to stay alive, knowing you love me."

She started to cry. "You might die tomorrow." She stopped and gathered herself up as well as she could. "I know men have their needs," she whispered bending her head away. "I want to make you happy."

"Seléne!" Pericles felt shocked and angry. "Don't say such things!"

Then he softened. "You are young and you have been hurt. I will wait, I don't mind."

"Pericles, I'm frightened. A seeress said that someone I loved deeply would die in this war. I thought it was my uncle. Now I fear it might be you." She started to cry again.

Now Pericles understood. "Seléne, I no longer fear death. How could I? But don't listen to fortune tellers. Hakeem gave you the wrong impression of us Greeks. You haven't seen us fight. I promise I won't leave you, Seléne."

He kissed and hugged her to him.

"Make love to me Pericles," she whispered hoarsely.

"Darling, no! ... I want you to be ready."

"I need something from you, to remember you by." She smiled at him. "Do I have to beg?"

"All my women say that," Pericles laughed. "No, I am joking, you would be the first.

"No, you don't have to beg."

He simply held her for a long time. Then he kissed her and lowered her to the ground and slowly unwrapped her.

He was so gentle and considerate. Slowly at first she began to enjoy the feel of his hands exploring her body, his kisses. Seléne hadn't experienced anything like this. She loved him so much and wanted to give all of herself to him. Then her love for Pericles rose higher and higher and with it, her passion.

And still he took his time.

Gently moving his hands over her body. Her body felt flushed and tingly where he touched her. She was panting for his next caress. She longed to have him inside.

There was a little pain and then he was inside He was moving with increasing urgency backwards and forwards … and then she shuddered as they both climaxed together.

They lay together afterwards. She wanted to wrap her legs around him and squeeze all that he had to give, deep inside her. She kissed him again and again on his face, on his shoulders and on his chest.

Pericles saw his lovely elf princess looking up at him. She couldn't stop grinning. "Well, man of Greece. I won't be letting go of you in a hurry. But we had better get back."

* * *

The raid on the Turkish camp in the night had been a great success. There were only about a hundred guards and taking advantage of the elves' night vision they managed to kill maybe half of them before the others disappeared into the darkness.

They carried off what they could and burned the rest in a great fire. The enemy was now back there putting out the fires and repairing the site. This time they would be putting up a palisade and earthworks so the defenders could not dislodge them a second time.

At least it meant that the Hun would not renew the assault until tomorrow. This would give the defenders a little more time, but it would not be enough.

They wouldn't be able to hold out till help arrived. They had narrowed the odds and would do more when the Hun attacked the camp, at least at first. The eventual outcome, though, was not in doubt.

Galenos had only just woken and after breakfast had started to check on the men and preparations. They were veterans, they knew they were all going to die, but the mood amongst the men was positively cheerful. So far, they had done well, against all expectations.

It was when he was halfway through his rounds with Drakon when he was startled to hear a woman's clear musical voice coming from the bushes on the slope below. It sounded like she was an elf.

"Don't shoot! Can we approach?"

"Approach slowly. Who are you?" he called out. For a brief moment he thought he must still be asleep and dreaming.

"We have come a long way to help you," called another woman. "There are others coming up. We left our horses far away and climbed in secret."

A small girl led two women and a boy, Jacinta's age, appeared. The boy and the women were carrying bows and several quivers each; all were elves.

To Galenos's surprise Drakon seemed to know the elf women. He hurried over and dropped to his knees before one of them, a tall, young red-haired woman who offered her hand to be kissed. "By the Great Mother, what are you doing here, Holy One?"

What on earth? Galenos thought. Two priestesses and two children, they would be more a burden than a help.

"Don't worry, Lord." The pretty little elf-girl seemed to catch his thoughts. "You don't think we four came just by ourselves, do you?

"I came first, as I was the only one who can get past those Turks. Sister Korrina and Sister Eunike can both shoot a bow or look after wounded. Daniel can use a war bow and has killed men before in a fight, but there are others."

Just then Omar climbed up, leading his monks. One look at his monks, who were kitted for battle, looking strong and competent, caused Galenos to break into a broad grin.

They had leather armour reinforced by bronze plates. Some carried bows but most had spears and large heavy shields. They very much looked like they knew how to use them. He had heard of the fighting monks of the Shayva. This was better, this was far better.

"Sir," he said to Omar. "Is this a miracle? I didn't mean to sound ungrateful, I was merely surprised. Now I am overcome. We are very few and now you give us a chance. But why bring women and children to this place?"

"Not by my choice, I assure you," Omar replied in his deep voice. "The little girl is an elf seeress. It was her that knew you were in trouble, or at least would be in trouble by the time we got here, if you can believe that.

"She came from Elgard to Karsh and then led us here. It's been a long journey for the women. I thank our Lord Apollōn we are in time. Fear lent us wings."

Galenos lifted up the little elf high in the air and kissed her and hugged her. She blushed furiously but looked pleased. "Elgard to Karsh and then here, you came all that way to help us? But how could you know? You are a seeress?"

Just then Jacinta yelled loudly with delight. "Daniel! Omar! What are you two doing here?"

"I told you I would visit!" Daniel claimed, looking smug. He was having trouble suppressing a broad grin. Elena and Jacinta had hurried up from the cistern below to greet their friends.

"Is that her?" Sophie hissed to Daniel as she was put down. "She looks so muscular, are you sure she's a girl?"

Jacinta grabbed Daniel and kissed him determinedly and decisively on the lips. Then they both blushed furiously and averted their gaze in front of the crowd.

Sophie shot Jacinta a look of pure hatred.

* * *

"We are too late," Seléne gasped.

Her keen elf eyes saw the wispy smoke still rising from the great mound so far away. Her chest felt hollow. She tried to squeeze her eyes to stop the tears and wiped her face savagely.

Why would the Great Earth Goddess get them to come all this way but make them arrive too late?

"There were too many of them, Pericles. There is too many for us to face on the open plain."

"They are distracted. Perhaps we can catch them by surprise," Pericles said grimly. "I haven't come this far just to turn around."

Something puzzled Seléne. "Pericles, I dreamed Elena was camped on the other side, not where the smoke is coming from. What does that mean?"

Pericles shrugged. "My love, I will see. Wait here with the horses. We will come back for you.

"No, Seléne!" he said sharply as he caught her look.

She ignored him. She carefully checked her bow one last time and brought a second quiver of arrows from her horse. She stood determined and waiting, while Pericles quietly got his men ready.

"It is the elf way not to forget murder, and elf women do not desert their men," she said firmly.

He grinned at her and for a moment, she felt a thrill of excitement.

Then they were running.

* * *

Jacinta was puzzled at how cold and formal the elf girl seemed to be towards her. What on earth was wrong?

"Sophie, please just call me Jacinta, I'm not a princess," Jacinta said firmly. "Do you need to rest or can I show you what it is we have been doing here?"

"I know what you're looking for," Sophie said coolly. Then she realised how rude she was being and forced a smile.

"Thank you, Jacinta, but we have no time. Everyone needs to get ready. The battle is almost upon us."

"No Sophie," Galenos said to the strange elf child. "They won't be attacking today. We hit them last night and they are fortifying their upper camp now. Most of their number is still at the base camp."

"Commander Galenos, do you think this is all the aid that I bring you? Others risk much to come to your aid, look to the west."

"My Lord," said an elf lookout urgently. "She is right! There is a small force of foot soldiers still some way away, but approaching from the west. I think they mean to attack but the enemy will see them first. They will be greatly outnumbered and caught on the plain by the cavalry. They will be massacred."

Galenos looked where he was bid and his face reflected his horror. They needed to do something, something dramatic and to do it quickly!

* * *

"This is madness, but it might just work," Galenos whispered to Drakon as they left the monks to rest and hold their camp. He had taken all the Greeks and elves, creeping forwards towards the enemy's summit encampment. "When I give the word, get ready for our charge. The last thing they will expect is for our small force to attack again, when we have the Queen and Jacinta to guard."

Drakon smiled. "Now that would be silly of us, wouldn't it?" he said with a broad grin of anticipation.

* * *

Umit, the commander of the Hun, was in a fury at the news, it was outrageous.

"That's impossible! Those bastardly Greeks and pointy-eared wood scum wouldn't dare."

They only had two hundred warriors guarding their queen and her Gypsy brat and now they were attacking the summit camp again. He still had three times their number.

Killing infantry with his mounted archers was child's play. He had always thought of any who didn't ride a horse in battle as somehow subhuman. Now he felt a reluctant surge of admiration. He hoped he had the chance to show his respect for their commander … just before he killed him.

For the moment, though, he was being made a fool of. If he lost the summit now, he would only have to regain it all over again.

He felt like a bull being tormented by a wasp.

"Leave a cavalry wing here but I want every other man ready. We are going up that slope. This will end, now."

* * *

Galenos's men took the Turks completely by surprise. The majority were digging and moving soil so they had to scurry for their weapons. It was over in minutes for most of them, but a few were holding out with bows behind a partly finished palisade.

Galenos wasn't going to lose men trying to dislodge them and there was no time. The bulk of the Hun were streaming up the slope in complete disregard for their personal safety. The elves shot a few arrows at maximum range.

The Huns didn't even pause or seek cover.

Perhaps they were just a little upset!

Galenos had no intention of finding out what six hundred or so angry Turks could do if they caught him and his men in the open. He suspected they could do a very great deal.

"Time to go!" Galenos shouted urgently.

As Galenos's men scurried back to their encampment, Drakon hugged Galenos. The elves were not returning to the camp.

"Keep safe. It has been the greatest honour to know you, my friend."

Galenos slapped him on the shoulder. "You're not bad yourself, for an elf that is. But I'm not dead yet. Look after yourself, elf."

Drakon laughed and nodded, and then the elves melted into the scrub.

Elena and Jacinta were already waiting for them under cover; they were shepherded down the ravines and gullies till they were hidden near the bottom under a small overhang, with a dozen guards concealed nearby.

Galenos sprinted back to camp. He was about to oppose a charge of about six hundred Turks with under two hundred men. The earthworks they had sweated so long and hard to build now seemed rather meagre.

He didn't know how long they could hold their positions with odds of almost three to one against them but he had to make the enemy assault on the camp as expensive as possible. Tying up the enemy was the main reason for defending the camp, now that Jacinta and Elena were hidden elsewhere.

With the help of the elves, the battle on the plains below should go in their favour. That would give them horses but they hoped they didn't need them. They hoped they would be able to return in time to help the battle for the summit.

If the battle went very badly up here, the elves would show Elena and Jacinta below.

They would have to leave enough horses to encourage pursuit. It would be a very dangerous thing to do; have Huns chase you on horseback, but Elena had overridden their objections, she would brook no argument.

Omar's monks were in front. They had managed all together eighty warriors with heavy shields and long spears, most with proper body armour. Behind them were Galenos's light infantry, some carried spears, and the rest with javelins. He had a few elf and two Shayvist archers.

Galenos prayed to Athēnā that the Turk horsemen knew nothing about infantry fighting.

* * *

Pericles held up his hand for his men to stop. Something was happening at the top of the mound. He whispered to Seléne, "What do you see, elf?"

"I don't understand." Seléne looked puzzled into the distance. "The Huns are in an uproar. They are leaving their camp and racing up the hill."

Pericles grabbed his elf and spun her around to kiss her hard on the lips and hug her in excitement. "Not only are the defenders alive, they are giving the Turks serious trouble."

"Well, let's let them know we are visiting them too," Seléne suggested with an evil grin.

"Soon, my love not yet, we don't want them getting to their horses first."

* * *

"My Lord, the base camp is being attacked! We'll lose the horses!"

Umit had just gained the summit, his chest was on fire, he felt like throwing up and his legs felt like jelly. He could hardly get enough breath. He was not used to fighting on foot.

He looked down. He could see his men scurrying around. There was a group approaching rapidly from the west and some of his men were falling down. Elves! The elves were down there.

"I'm not going to race up and down this stupid hill like a fool," he said irritably. "We finish here, and then we deal with whatever's left."

His men were forming up just back from the area that had been cleared of scrub. It was still uneven and treacherous ground. It sloped slightly uphill and earthworks gave his enemy a height advantage. There were a number of obstacles, pits and traps in the area they had to run across. He spotted men who weren't dressed like Greeks amongst the defenders. Had they been reinforced?

For the first time Umit understood he might actually be defeated.

He grinned at his sub-commanders. They understood what he was thinking and grinned back. His men drew their swords and those who carried hastily fashioned shields hefted them.

"We are the Hun!" he screamed. "We will show these fat Greek farmers we fear no one, not even death himself. What say you?"

His men cheered and started their chant.

"Stand aside, so I might lead!" he commanded.

* * *

While Pericles and his men hit the base camp down below, the Huns charged the defenders' summit camp screaming at the top of their voices. Soon Omar and his monks were in a fight to the death. The Huns were superb light cavalry, deadly in the mounted use of the bow, the spear, even the lasso. But infantry they were not, and many wore light armour or none at all.

The monks had heavy shields and good quality armour. They fought as a unit, in formation. The Hun, as skirmishers, fought as individuals.

The Hun charge stalled. As those behind the defenders' forward line poured arrows and javelins into the attackers, the monks locked shields and pushed forward. Shove hard to unbalance your enemy. If a foot appears in front of his shield, stamp down with your hobnailed sandals, trying to crush the bones.

If your enemy loses balance or control, it becomes easy. Now ram hard with your shield again.

Omar was at the end of the line on the far right, the place of honour. Shields are held in the left hand, so on the far right the shield wall was open, the most vulnerable point. Only the best warrior takes this position.

He was armed with a sword and a large heavy shield and was killing all that came against him.

But as Omar rammed his shield forward and lunged with his sword, it caught in a man's rib cage. For a moment he was overextended. It was then Umit stabbed him from the side. Omar twisted and punched with his shield as he freed his sword, his side rapidly getting slippery with blood. The old man shouted at Umit, "You are a long way from home, Turk." He smiled at the Hun commander and then pushed his own sword into the Hun.

Umit felt the agony in his gut. His vision began darkening. He would not be returning to report his failure to Mòdú Chányú.

Omar's attack on Umit had taken him beyond the shield wall. He managed to smash another enemy in the face with the pommel of his sword and with his last strength stab his sword hard into a Turk thigh. Then he disappeared under a rain of blows.

Galenos looked around. The Turks had been beaten back but were readying themselves again. The first charge had been very expensive for the enemy. There was well over a hundred of enemy dead and wounded, including their commander. Galenos had eighteen dead and had to rescue ten wounded.

Now his front line included his light infantry. They mostly had smaller shields and no body armour. When they faced the Turks next it would be more costly for them and the Turks were forming loosely up for a second charge. He heard a cry in the distance. A party of elves was coming back to help him.

Then the Huns charged.

* * *

Pericles' Greeks overran the camp. The outnumbered Hun had little answer to the rapidly running peltastae. Their shields deflected the Hun arrows and their javelins outdistanced swords and thrusting spears. It was soon over.

Pericles was out in front of his men but he was in serious trouble. He had already killed several Hun and had run out of javelins. Drawing his Xiphos (short-sword), without a thought for his own safety, he ran to help one of his men caught between two Huns. He was too late to help his man and now found himself fighting two against one.

He heard a high-pitched shriek behind him, but couldn't look, it was Seléne.

She sent an impossible shot that almost creased his shoulder and caught one of the Turks in the throat. She landed in a part-crouch and was scurrying desperately forward to shoot at the other assailant, but it was too late.

Pericles felt a punch in his side as a spear was driven into him. Pericles heard a thump and a cry as Seléne's arrow found the second man.

It seemed from a distance he heard Seléne screaming over and over and felt her catch his body, but he was fading rapidly.

His fate was not changed by Hakeem, just delayed. He was grateful he had this chance with Seléne, though their time had been brief. He tried to say something to her, but nothing would come out. He desperately didn't want to leave her. That was his last thought.

Seléne was destined to lose someone she loved. Now she knew.

It was Pericles!

 

 

Chapter 21: The Witch and the Young Ṧamánka

Seléne held Pericles to her as he lay dying. His blood was all over her. She could hear a terrible wailing cry. She hardly realised it was her, screaming "no!" over and over.

Then someone roughly pulled her off.

"No, let me! I l-love h-him!" She couldn't see for tears, struggling to get back to Pericles. One of Pericles' men held her back. Out of nowhere, Elena and Jacinta had appeared.

Elena started working furiously but anyone could see it was hopeless. Jacinta sat next to him, in some sort of trance, what did she think she was doing? Seléne knew she didn't have power like her father.

Jacinta was turning pale with the effort. Her face a mask of concentration and strain, sweat was beading out on her face. Yet still nothing happened. She could only sense the faintest echo of life that had been.

Pericles was dead.

"I can't do it," she said through tears.

For Seléne! She had to do it for Seléne!

She tried again in desperation, stretching herself beyond any limit. Elena had closed the wound. The bleeding had stopped anyway, the heart was not beating.

Jacinta heard her mother in the distance calling, "Jacinta, he's dead. He's already dead!"

She pulled herself back, defeated. Tears were streaming down her face.

Seléne seemed frozen. She said in a small voice to Elena, "I'm sorry, sister. I know I am supposed to go on, but without him I cannot."

Then she called out loudly, "Great Mother! Won't you take pity on me?"

Just then, an immense surge of power shot through the Greek man's corpse.

"Mother," Jacinta called to Elena in terror. "That wasn't me."

* * *

Pericles could look down and see them clustered around a body he knew was his own.

Seléne and Jacinta were sobbing. He felt himself drifting higher and higher.

He could see the battle in its entirety, the Hun were at last outnumbered and were being cut down. Very few would surrender.

They had done it at least. The allies had achieved victory, but he was starting to forget why it had been so important.

Someone appeared beside him, a pretty female elf in her mid-forties. She was small for an elf but very beautiful with red silky hair. "Let it go, Pericles, it is your time."

Just beyond her there seemed to be a white light getting brighter and brighter.

"It was you before!" he said to her in wonder. "Where am I?"

"You're in the realm between life and death. I can't follow you much further, as I am amongst the living. You must move towards the light."

"Who are you?"

"You are about to understand that. It's time to go, let go or you will die and still be linked to the earth."

"Please, please help me!" Pericles begged. "I have to go back for Seléne. Help me find the stairs."

Stairs! He felt the woman hesitate.

"It is very dangerous. You may be defying your fate, and no man should do that."

She sensed his determination and seemed to nod. "It may be too late. You must not stop for anything."

He nodded, or at least he thought he did.

* * *

He was on the stairway, there was little time and he was very weak. On his hands and knees he pulled himself down, trying to hurry.

There was a force, a great hurricane, pushing against him.

"Think of Athēnā … Think of the Great Mother Goddess," a female voice yelled urgently above the noise like a wind. He desperately called to Goddess Athēnā to give him strength. The elf-witch was there somehow, helping him.

He knew the way this time, three steps down and then to the side. He stumbled weakly to the fountain. It wasn't running and the bowl was broken. The life force was draining away!

In his desperation he threw himself over the rim, put his head down and drank without breathing. As his life force disappeared he put his lips in the bottom and drank deeply. He lay there panting, there was a little bit left. The bowl started to spin and he had to hang on to it. It was the last thing he remembered of that strange place.

* * *

Jacinta felt an awesome surge of power go through Pericles' body. From somewhere, some life force surged through him. She turned back to him and pushed herself beyond her limit, beyond even where she had been before.

Suddenly Pericles' body stiffened as with a mighty effort … and he took a shuddering breath.

But Jacinta, in her desperation, had travelled too far into that dark place in search of him. She felt stretched and lost and struggled feebly, ineffectually, to return. She had no memory of her body and was starting to forget who she was.

"Oh no you don't!" came a familiar voice. "You are a pain in the kolos, but I'm not losing you that easily." The witch grabbed hold of Jacinta, in this place she had great power, and Jacinta felt powerful arms pulling her back to her body.

* * *

Seléne had thought Jacinta had no power. When Pericles took a breath she realised Jacinta was to be a paladin. Jacinta fainted and Seléne gathered her friend into a hug, as Elena checked her patient. Jacinta felt so cold. Then Seléne felt her stir weakly.

"Jacinta! He's alive!" Seléne was crying and hugging her friend in excitement. "You saved him. By the Great Mother, I love you!" She sat with the limp body of her friend clasped savagely to her, rocking her backwards and forwards.

Jacinta opened her eyes and smiled weakly back at her, unable to focus. She was pale and cold and sweaty. She looked like she was about to be sick. "Seléne, you came for us."

Elena looked across at her sister, overwhelmed with gratitude. "Seléne, I'm blessed to call you sister. I want to know what miracle brought you here.

"But for the moment I cannot welcome you as I should, there is too much to do. I have to attend to the wounded. Can you look after Pericles and Jacinta?"

Jacinta pushed Seléne off. She struggled up, bent in exhaustion and staggered a few uncertain steps towards where the wounded were being brought, falling to her knees. She was trembling and pale and sweating profusely, trying to get up again.

"No, Jacinta!" Elena cried out in horror. "You cannot!"

Jacinta shook her head tiredly, swaying to her feet. "I just need a minute." She gasped. "That took a lot out of me. Who else have you got, Mother?"

* * *

Men were coming with travois and stretchers to take the wounded into shelter. They wouldn't be able to be transferred up the slope yet. Seléne stayed with Pericles but would help care for the wounded as soon as she had seen him out of danger.

Jacinta made her way, half carried by her mother.

When Seléne was out of earshot, Jacinta turned to Elena in fear. "He was dead, Mother."

Elena nodded. "I know. Did you feel that great surge? It was something unimaginably powerful. Could it have been a God? Even the thought terrifies me."

Jacinta nodded. "I think it is a witch of unbelievable power. She saved me, I had lost my way. She is on our side. I hope it stays that way. I don't think she likes me, but I have no idea why."

"We can only trust in the Great Mother," Elena sighed tiredly. "Are you sure now? I fear you are already at your limit and beyond, if I thought I could stop you, I would you know."

"I am sorry, mother," Jacinta staggered a little. "Only I can do it, I must try."

* * *

Compared to the Turks, the allies' casualties were relatively light. Maybe just over fifty dead in the final battle all up and a further forty seriously wounded.

Korrina, Eunike, Seléne and Elena went amongst them.

Three times Elena found Jacinta struggling to help someone gravely wounded and then she simply lay down in the dirt and fell instantly asleep. She didn't rouse when they carried her to a softer place and Seléne placed a blanket over her and kissed her.

The Huns were badly outmatched but who could deny their courage? They fought on till they were completely overcome. Not a single Hun surrendered willingly. There were not more than a hundred prisoners and most were wounded, maybe thirty seriously so. The elves dealt with those few too seriously injured to have any chance to live and the elf men who knew healing went amongst the rest. The healthiest were transferred to the half-built palisade and put under guard and Galenos sent to the nearest garrisons for help.

None of the allies spoke the Turk language. That would need to change. Fortunately several Huns spoke Greek and one knew Aramaic.

* * *

"Well, that's a very handy talent you have there."

Jacinta had fallen into an exhausted sleep but somehow she was not asleep.

"Who are you?" Jacinta said into her mind. She had sense of the same beautiful woman, in her forties. "Thank you for saving me. I couldn't find my way back."

"I'm not sure I like you, but I couldn't lose you that easily. Just remember, it's very important that our enemies don't learn about me."

"Did you do that thing to Pericles?"

"I wish I had that sort of power." She sounded amused. "I would be a Goddess. I had shown Pericles a technique earlier to recover his life force. Without you, it wouldn't have worked.

"Now you listen to me. There is something you need to learn and learn quickly. Those Turks came for you, not your mother. When they tried to kill our Lady Elena earlier it was because they thought she was carrying her daughter in her womb. That's you, Jacinta!" Jacinta nodded; at least, it seemed she did in her sleep.

They had suspected as much.

"Until you learn to hide your thoughts, you are easily found. Your father has some sort of powerful protection which I don't understand. You are protected from far sight but you are still wide open to any who has the talent to listen for you.

"To guard your thoughts would normally take a long time to learn. You have talent, though I don't like to admit it. If you trust me, and I know I ask a lot, I can show you a quick way."

"I trust you," Jacinta replied simply.

"I'm not sure that is so wise.

"Alright, I need you to relax completely and open your mind. Try not to resist or this will be very painful for both of us. On my honour, I will do you no harm."

Jacinta knew she could trust this woman, no matter what she said. She tried to open her mind and relax as much as possible. It was a bit of a warm sensation, not at all unpleasant. The woman's touch was feather light.

"Well done," the voice seeming to come deep inside her. "You are very interesting. We have never had one of your kind before.

"There are a few things I would like to show you but let's get this right first. Feel that slight pressure? That's your shield. Now I will create a picture of our connection, see it?

"I made it look like a rainbow, only solid … rather pretty, don't you think?

"See how you can guard your thoughts but still connect to me? I'm trying to be on the inside and outside at the same time, so you can practise. Practise it a few times then I really will have to get out of here. You're doing very well, you have a lot of control of your mind but sooner or later it will attack me, just by instinct. If that happens we will both have terrible headaches, me worse than you."

"Are you a witch?" Jacinta managed. She found herself fighting against a reflex to attack the presence inside her mind.

"Why, of course I am ... and be very wary of Daniel. Try to stay away from him. He's a lot more than he seems." Then the woman was gone.

Be wary of Daniel? What on earth did she mean?

Jacinta slept restlessly after the visit from the witch. She found herself almost rhythmically practising guarding her thoughts and then relaxing her guard. Yet she woke feeling surprisingly good, she wondered if it was something her night-time visitor had done.

As she stumbled over to get water to wash with, her thoughts were in a whirl. Omar was dead!

She knew death was part of the great illusion, but it hurt so much. How was Daniel coping with it?

Her strange visitor last night wasn't as clever as she thought herself. She said, 'Our Lady Elena'… so she was an elf! But the elves had no one with such power. And she said, 'We have never had one of your kind before.' 'We' – that meant that there was more than one of them or there used to be and they had had no contact with paladins.

It made no sense. How could a group of elves keep their power in secret for thousands of years, including the fall of Troia and the barbarian invasion? And how on earth could such a powerful group not have encountered paladins before?

And Daniel? She said he was a danger.

"You're guarding very well for a beginner. It gets easier with time. You'll hardly know you are doing it," said a now familiar 'voice'.

"Hello witch," Jacinta said. "How come you can hear me, even though I'm guarding?"

She felt the witch was amused at her. "You're not that good yet. Don't feel too bad, we shared minds, remember? That gives us a special connection.

"I thought I told you to be careful about Daniel."

Jacinta realised how odd she would look if anyone saw her talking to no one present. She blushed furiously and bit her lip and tried to project her thoughts.

"Daniel is my friend. He has just had a great loss. I will talk to him. If you don't like it, keep out of my head."

"You're like a servant girl with her first crush, my young paladin! You don't know anything about Daniel. I warn you, he is not as he seems."

"I suppose you won't tell me what you mean. I shared your mind too. I know a few secrets about you, witch, one is that you're not as mean and hard as you pretend."

After that, Jacinta, with an effort managed to turn her off.

Before attending to any personal matters, Jacinta had duties. She went straight to the small hospital Elena and the priestesses had set up. She helped eight whose lives were in the balance and several badly hurt, one who looked like he might otherwise lose his arm. It was nowhere near as exhausting as the day before, she had become far stronger in her healing.

Her mother had told her that her touch was different to her father's. Hakeem's healing was like Hakeem: strong, direct and powerful. Jacinta could manage a light touch, hard to detect, unless she stretched herself.

She would return to the hospital later, but for the moment she sought out her friend, Daniel. Sophie was down in the cistern. She had gone to sleep shortly after arrival and hadn't yet woken, despite all that had happened.

She lay, a small bundle wrapped in a blanket, in the corner. She was beyond exhaustion with the long journey and had strained her powers to both locate them and slip past the Huns.

The two priestesses of the Mother were busy helping Elena in her hospital and Daniel seemed to be the self-appointed guardian of the young elf seeress.

"Jacinta, she is very lonely, she is only nine. She is a very strange girl," Daniel was saying. "She has some sort of crush on me. She says we were married in a previous life." He gave her a wry smile and shrugged. "But you have no idea of the torment she went through to get us here in time."

"Well, I can't imagine why anyone would have a crush on you, Daniel," said Jacinta, laughing at the red-haired boy who blushed and chuckled in return.

She crept quietly over and peered down on the slight sleeping form of the seeress.

Sophie had an untidy mop of red hair with her pointed elf ears poking through. Jacinta smiled down at her as she pulled the blankets up over the little girl. Sophie didn't stir. The two withdrew a little from their sleeping charge.

"Daniel, I'm so sorry for your loss. Omar was my teacher too," Jacinta said as she sat next to him.

"I can't believe it," Daniel confessed. "I think any moment I will see him walking up to me, so strong and so sure. I knew he was old but he always seemed indestructible. He was the first one who didn't give up on me. "

Tears came to Daniel's eyes. Suddenly they were flowing freely. Jacinta put her arm round his shoulder and waited with him till they stopped. Never for a moment did Daniel doubt that Jacinta was his best friend in all the world.

After talking to Daniel, Jacinta sought her mother out. She wanted to see what she could do to help some of the more seriously injured prisoners. It would certainly not be wise to do that without her mother and a proper guard present in case she became helpless.

They had come to kill her, after all.

* * *

The first man she attended to was the last Hun leader amongst them left alive. He was the old man who knew Aramaic. He had been injured early on in the fighting and was gasping from a chest wound. Infection had set in. He was feverish and pale but still lucid.

Elena introduced herself as Lady Elena. Their four guards waited in the background with their swords drawn.

The visit of Elena, a great lady, to the enemy wounded, gave them great honour. The Hun leader was impressed and he smiled and greeted them politely.

Only after that, as was proper, did Elena introduce Jacinta, a child.

Jacinta knelt, bowing to the old man. She slowly kissed his hand and then pressed it to her forehead. She didn't know if this was correct, but it was a common greeting of a young person to a senior family member throughout the East.

"Elder, please forgive any rudeness I might show through ignorance. Any offence I give is unintentional," she said formally. "I have some power in healing. Would you permit me to pray over you?"

The old man's face lit up in delight. He translated for the others nearby who had inclined their heads curiously. Soon all were beaming at the young Gypsy girl, not so much for the offer, but the great courtesy these people were offering enemy prisoners.

"Well, thank you! Peace be with you, little one. You may call me Dengizich, as I am a prisoner. Of course I will accept your prayers."

"I will call you Uncle, if I may be permitted," Jacinta said respectfully, bowing once again. "Please don't feel alarmed, Uncle, if you feel a change inside your body, it is what I will be praying for."

She bent her head and concentrated, this was definitely getting easier after her experience with Pericles.

An arrow had penetrated his chest. His own healers had removed it earlier but there was still slow bleeding from those vessels … there! That whole part of the lung had collapsed and infection had started. It was hard to know how long it took for her; it seemed to take a long time but perhaps not, as no one commented. As she came out of her healing trance, he was looking much better but tired.

"Little girl," he exclaimed in surprise. "You are modest and courteous, as is only right in one so young. Your courtesy does you great merit as we are only prisoners. Yet you did not tell me you are a powerful ṧamánka! I could feel you enter the spirit plain to battle for me. I believe you have saved my life. I didn't know before, but now I do, it is you and your mother that we were sent to kill."

Jacinta bowed solemnly to the old man and again kissed his hand, pressing it to her forehead. "Yes, Uncle, I am the one you came to kill. Your men fought bravely, let none say otherwise. Now that the battle is over, if you would permit, I would wish peace between you and us and I would also like to try to help your other men."

"Let it be so, then. Peace between you and my tribe. It is a courtesy I did not expect."

"Uncle, I do not understand the word 'ṧamánka '."

"Why, it means you are a female šamán, of course. You are one of those with wisdom who travels in the spirit world and can cure sickness. You can appease spirits and restore balance to the earth."

Jacinta stayed to help twenty-three more. This tired her less than she expected yet she still needed to go for sleep. She asked if she could return the next day. Dengizich and his men were delighted at the request.

* * *

On the second day, the Huns were sitting in a semi-circle to talk to Jacinta and her mother. Jacinta was sure she didn't need a bodyguard now; these men were just as stiff about their honour as Hakeem was.

Galenos had insisted and her mother said that it was never a good idea to defy anyone who had been put in charge of something important, like her safety.

Dengizich insisted he felt better than before he was hit by the arrow.

Jacinta was sure he exaggerated.

"You must know it was the ṧamán Gansükh (steel-axe) who sent us to kill you," Dengizich said. Jacinta passed no comment. A man she had not heard of wanted her dead. It sounded fair enough she supposed. It seemed to be happening a lot lately.

"He is a very bad man, but powerful," Dengizich continued. "He serves our leader Mòdú Chányú. Are your mother and you the type who harm no one and don't eat meat?" he asked. "It would be a great evil for us to come here to kill you if that is so."

"No, we are not, I am not," Jacinta reassured the Huns with a smile. "I have killed several times. I am training to be a warrior."

Dengizich and his men looked at her with surprise. So young yet she had already killed. She would grow into great power.

"One day I will travel to the far land you have come from, Uncle," Jacinta said. "And I will kill the ṧamán who is called Gansükh. That is, if my father doesn't kill him first."

Dengizich gave her a slow smile which surprised her and Elena. "It would be a very good thing if you travel to our far land and kill the ṧamán who is called Gansükh.

"But he is very strong and very dangerous and is surrounded by others, also of great power. You will have to grow strong indeed if you hope to match Gansükh.

"If you wish and fate allows we would like to go with you to kill Gansükh."

"Thank you, Uncle, it would be an honour to ride with you and your men, if fate allows." Jacinta bowed her head.

As this was translated, the men smiled at her and murmured loudly in their own language in appreciation. For them, the priests and priestesses of Shamanism, šamán and ṧamánka are held in the greatest esteem.

Not only were the mother and daughter delightful and so respectful, but Jacinta was also training to be a female warrior. A warrior ṧamánka was uncommon and had a very special place in their culture. To them, Jacinta was truly remarkable.

Jacinta asked respectfully, "Uncle, if you hate ṧamán Gansükh, why do you do his bidding?"

Dengizich flushed and his men looked uncomfortable. He paused a long time. Jacinta knew she had asked a bad question. She started to stutter an apology but Dengizich held up his hand to silence her.

"This is not something we would wish to discuss outside our tribe or with one your age. The answer shames us.

"You have earned an answer, so I will give it, little ṧamánka," he finally replied. Then he sighed. "It is a long tale. Our tribe comes from the great dry plains. Since time before anyone knows, the strongest tribes of the plains have always been the Ārya. They have fine features like you but are fairer, though not as fair as an elf."

Jacinta and Elena nodded. Aryan nomads had long dominated that whole region of Steppe even as far as Mongolia.

"The Ārya call us Türük (Turk). Over time we became stronger than the Ārya, with our horses, our warriors and our bows. The father of Mòdú Chányú, Touman Chányú, became a great leader. He had warriors as many as the blades of grass. All bowed before him, but he was our enemy."

"Chányú means 'leader' then?" Elena asked.

Dengizich nodded. "Yes, Great Queen. Touman means 'many warriors'.

"Our greatest Gods are two: the Great Earth mother, Yer Tanrı, and the Great Sky God, Gök Tanrı but we worship the Great Sky God most of all."

Jacinta nodded, these were the oldest of all Gods. The Greeks of the Hellás called the Great Earth Mother 'Gaia' and the Sky God 'Uranus'. But their worship amongst the Greeks had been long displaced, first by one generation of Gods and then by another and then another.

Elena was also thinking as Dengizich was speaking. The practice of Ṧamánism varied between tribes and peoples but it and the belief in the sky God and the Great Earth mother was as old as the races of men.

"Chányú," Dengizich continued, "literally means 'son of the endless sky'."

Jacinta tried to smother a smile. Son of a God! A worthy title indeed!

"Mòdú killed his father and became the leader. He became even more powerful than his father had been. When he came against us he had many horses and men beyond count. We are a small tribe and the seasons have not been kind to us, so we had to kneel and kiss the dust before him. We were forced to pay more than we could spare in tribute. Does this make us sound like cowards?"

"You are not cowards," Jacinta said in indignation. "You have shown that here.

"Forgive me for talking so plainly, Uncle, but why kill your own people in a hopeless fight because of pride? You have your families to keep alive."

Dengizich nodded. "Perhaps what you say is wise but it was a bitter wisdom. Perhaps I judge our actions so harshly because they sat so ill with me. Mòdú Chányú is a hard man, but he is honourable, yet not all that ride with him are so and there is worse to tell." He paused and sighed, looking weary.

"Gansükh is from our tribe. He and my youngest son, Edz, were friends. They both went to learn from our famous ṧamán, Yolshal. One day Gansükh disappeared and did not return for more than two years. When he did, he was very powerful.

"Most ṧamán and ṧamán are unworldly. It is their work they love, not gold or power. with Gansükh that is not so. His magic does not restore balance, it causes evil. He does not guard against bad spirits, he commands them. He does not heal, he lays curses.

"Edz and Yolshal denounced him. They said he had studied dark magic, against the law of the ṧamán. They were both found dead, as if they had been attacked by some great beast.

"Nothing could be proven against Gansükh, but we suspected it was him," Dengizich said grimly. "Gansükh demanded we follow him. Even though we feared him, we refused and caste him out.

"When we joined Mòdú Chányú we found Gansükh was one of his leaders. I doubt Mòdú Chányú likes him, but he is too useful, and now he has many who study under him.

"Gansükh says you are a threat. I was never sure of why. You were so young and it is such a long journey here."

"I know why," Elena said softly.

Dengizich looked at her thoughtfully, and then went on.

"He hated us and sent us to kill you. If we killed both of you, then he has eliminated two powerful enemies. If you kill us, he has eliminated us. It amuses him to get his enemies to eliminate one another."

* * *

It was not till the fourth day after the battle that they had managed to dig all the graves, each with their separate sections. The dead outnumbered those that had been left living, including the prisoners and those that were injured.

All but the elves would be buried away from the mound.

The time needed to organise everything fitted in with the dead being laid out for the three days after the Greek fashion. They were all washed of their worse hurts, dressed and their friends went amongst them, placing flowers and gifts on the bodies.

The Hun prisoners were surprised that they had been treated so well and now they were escorted and allowed to pay their respects to their fallen comrades. There were so many Hun dead that they had to be laid out in mass graves but they were laid out in honour with weapons by their side.

This was acceptable as most Hun warriors are buried thus. Only very few who deeply follow the way of the ṧamán are left naked on the Steppe for the scavengers and birds and animals of prey, but this could not be done with so many dead.

The burial service started first with one of the monks holding the service for the fallen Hun.

The Huns who could speak Greek softly translated.

"You, who have been our enemy, lay now at rest. Let it never be said that your courage failed, or you were not brave. You died each one of you a hero.

"In this time now, let us put our enmity aside. We look upon your faces and we see sons, brothers, husbands and fathers. We see men who have loved and been loved. We see men who, but for chance of war, we would have been proud to call our friends.

"Lie in this land of ours, but be at rest. For we claim you as our heroes also now. Sleep in peace, for you lie in friendly soil."

Dengizich and his men hearing what was said, asked if they could stay for the rest of the service to give honour to the allied dead.

For the rest of the audience, though their losses were small compared with the Huns, the next part was extremely painful.

Only seven of the elves had fallen. They would rest easy near the most holy place of all for the elves, ancient Troia. The elves sang their beautiful and haunting funeral songs. There was a an anguished song about an elf woman who searched long for her lover only to find him dead and this was followed by two soulful hymns dedicated to the Great Earth Mother.

Jacinta saw her Gypsy family come alive in her mind in the singing. Her loss and longing hit her again with beautiful and terrible clarity. She hunched over, hardly able to breathe as the tears ran uncontrollably down her cheeks. She felt Seléne's arm grab her and she clung to her friend. Such pain! Yet somehow bitter-sweet. Such was the power of the music of the elves.

The heaviest casualties were amongst the Greeks, thirty had been killed. One of the senior Shantawi monks gave a long prayer to Athēnā, the ancient Titan Goddess. She was a Goddess of Wisdom and also a great warrior Goddess; she would give comfort to her fallen warriors.

With Omar there were twenty monks who would not return. The Shayva, like the followers of the ṧamán, believed in returning their bodies to the earth to release the spirit. Their bodies were laid out on funeral pyres, carefully prepared with special oils and resins that would burn with intense heat.

Seléne, Elena, Jacinta and Sophie stood close to Daniel to give him support. Jacinta offered her hand to Sophie but she flinched as if scalded, and moved to the other side of Daniel, where she stood, alone.

There were prayers and singing to Apollōn.

Daniel was given the honour of lighting the pyre for Omar, the only father he ever knew. After he lit the fire, he sank to his knees and bent over, sobbing and sobbing as the fire caught. Jacinta came to sit with him close to the heat of the pyre. Sophie stood nearby, looking uncertain.

No one discouraged him, to grieve the dead is to give them honour.

* * *

The second day after the funeral, Galenos was meeting with Elena, Jacinta, Seléne and Drakon. In addition there was the senior-most monk, father Maccabee (Aramaic for "hammer"), Homeros, Pericles' second in command, and Azai, the leader of the relief contingent from Abydos.

"Brother Maccabee," Galenos said. "Your help will be long remembered. Thank you for offering to escort Sister Korrina and Sister Eunike back to Elgard."

Brother Maccabee merely nodded politely.

"Now we have Azai to patrol the surrounds, it should be possible to send Pericles' men back with Homeros." Galenos continued. "Homeros can take any of the wounded who can travel, and the prisoners. The rest will stay here, and with Daniel and Sophie's help we can finish what we started."

"I'm sorry, Lord Galenos, that time has not permitted proper discussion," Elena apologised. "We will be taking no prisoners from this place."

Galenos blanched and felt a chill.

How could the elf queen be so callous? These men were helpless and many had been badly hurt.

Jacinta gave her mother a smile. "I agree, Mother. These Turks make either loyal friends or implacable enemies."

Galenos looked at Jacinta in horror.

Drakon was also smiling and nodding. "This is wise, my Queen, these Turks are men that I would not wish to cage. They cannot be made into slaves, but the look on my friend's face makes me suspect my Lord Galenos thinks we are planning on killing them. With respect, he understands little of us elves, if he thinks that of us."

Me? Galenos tried to look offended. "I would never think such a thing!"

But this was hardly better!

"You aren't considering sending them back where they came," he said.

Elena looked at him coldly. "Of course not. I would never do such a thing! Dengizich has accepted my offer to settle in Kappadokia. I've warned him he may share the fate of all Anatolē, but his people are starving and threatened by many enemies."

Galenos felt his head was starting to spin. "I thought we were going to try to keep the Turks out of Anatolē."

Elena smiled at him. "My Lord Galenos, whatever gave you that idea? The Kimmerioi have completely devastated central Anatolē and it has never recovered. It is excellent country for these Hun. I would take as many as I could find. It will secure our Eastern borders."

"against the Turks!" Galenos almost shouted in confusion.

"And the Kimmerioi," Elena agreed mildly. "I have nothing against friendly Turks. They make invaluable allies."

"Friendly Turks that came halfway across the world to kill you and your daughter," Galenos spluttered.

Elena looked at him levelly. "Not so long ago there were men who came from Athēnai to conquer us, now I would, I do, trust them with my life." She gave him a slow smile of triumph.

Galenos subsided with a wry smile. Then he thought of Jacinta.

"Jacinta, again, I suspect?" he asked.

Jacinta smiled back at him, a little sheepishly. Elena looked very much the proud mother.

"So we let them walk off." He stopped when he saw the queen's unfriendly look. "So we give them their horses, weapons, supplies and escort them to safety," he amended.

Elena smiled serenely and nodded. "And they will need carts, Galenos," she added. "Any of their wounded not up to travelling can stay with us."

Galenos smiled and then he couldn't help it.

He laughed good-naturedly. "They come to kill us and we give them carts!"

 

 

Chapter 22: The Truth: Sophie, Daniel and Pericles.

It was the sixth day after the battle and Daniel was nearly at the point of strangling Sophie.

Jacinta told him to leave it, but it was getting out of hand. Waspish remarks and cold stares directed at Jacinta. All friendly overtures rebuffed.

It should have been funny from a nine-year-old but Sophie was masterly at being hateful. And this was after all she had gone through to save Jacinta's life.

"Sophie," Daniel said firmly. "Jacinta is my friend. She is trying very hard to be nice to you. I don't like the way you treat her. You're making me feel very cross with you."

"Daniel, how can you even like her. She exercises all the time. She's got muscles bigger than yours. And she looks so plain."

"Sophie! Jacinta does not look plain, she's beautiful. There is nothing wrong with how she looks. But that is not the point. There was a time when she was my only friend. She stood by me when even I thought I didn't deserve it. She's my best friend still. I won't be nice to you if you continue to treat Jacinta badly."

"Daniel! You don't know what you're saying!" Sophie started to cry. "Don't you remember me at all? We are soul mates. Can't you feel it? We have spent many lives loving each other. Daniel, we had children together.

"When I was very small, I had all these strange memories and visions. Do you know what it's like to have your parents, your village, your family scared of you? I was so lonely. One of the things that helped was memories of you and our two daughters. As I re-membered you, I fell in love with you again.

"Daniel, I have loved you for thousands of years. And you expect me to be nice to that she-cat. I know she just wants to get her claws into you.! How could you?"

Sophie dissolved in tears. Daniel resisted an almost over-powering urge to comfort the tiny elf.

"Sophie, I don't want to hurt you but you scare me talking like that. I can't be your friend when you act like that to Jacinta."

Daniel was at a loss as what else to say to the strange little elf.

Seeing her so desolate almost broke his heart. He didn't know what else to do ... so he left.

As he went out, Jacinta was waiting outside. "I heard shouting. Is that Sophie crying?"

Daniel snorted in disgust. "Girls! I want to be her friend but she's driving me crazy."

"It's about me, isn't it?" Jacinta got a determined look on her face and marched in. Daniel was too dispirited to try to stop her and walked away

"Can I come in?" Jacinta asked.

There was a small tuft of red hair under the blanket. Sophie was hiccoughing from crying and snivelling. "Go away! I hate you!"

"It's Daniel, isn't it?"

"Yes, go away! You can't understand. He doesn't want me. I think I'm going to die."

Jacinta sat firmly on the blanket. Sophie sat up. Her hair was all over the place, her eyes were red and her checks were streaked with tears.

"I hate you!" she screeched and launched herself at Jacinta, hitting her as hard as she could.

For Jacinta it was like being hit over and over by a pair of small pillows. She firmly held the struggling little girl, till Sophie was exhausted. Then the tiny elf collapsed, sobbing, and clung to the Gypsy girl who rocked her back and forward.

"You know I would much rather hate you, don't you?" said Sophie eventually in a small voice.

Jacinta smiled ruefully. "I have that worked out. Now tell me why."

* * *

Daniel was mystified and a little hurt.

Sophie and Jacinta had become friends and they wanted Daniel to keep well away. I didn't do anything, Daniel thought, why am I the one in trouble? In truth he was relieved.

Girls! They are crazy creatures, who needs them?

Elena, Seléne, Jacinta and Sophie took turns in nursing Pericles who slept most of the time. It had been decided not to risk him and some of the more severely wounded on the return journey to Troia.

So it was often a foursome, sometimes the sisters or sometimes the two younger girls paired up. Sophie learnt what it was like to have female friends. She hadn't learnt how to be a girl, how to have fun and how to laugh. A large part of her simply longed to be a normal little elf-girl.

Sometimes she slipped back into being an adult. Pericles didn't know what to make of it when a nine-year-old elf seemed to be flirting with him like an experienced woman. But her three friends accepted her and loved her for whoever she was.

There was one thing about her she desperately hoped to keep a secret; she didn't know it was already too late. It came to a head when she was helping Jacinta tidy up. She was enjoying the older girl's company. Jacinta was asking her if she knew anything about the older witch that had visited her and Pericles earlier.

"Yes, I know of her," Sophie said vaguely. "You can trust her."

"She warned me about Daniel," Jacinta said, seeming to be casual, but watching the small elf intensely out of the corner of her eye.

Sophie nodded. "Daniel is a lot …" She was searching for a way to explain it to Jacinta.

Jacinta had turned and was looking intensely at her with a small smile on her face. "More than he seems, perhaps … and I must keep away from him. Well, well, hello witch!"

"Oh," was all Sophie was able to say. She gave Jacinta a panicked stare as the older girl smiled in triumph at her. Jacinta was a strong and a skilled fighter. She had killed men. Sophie was small, even for a nine year old.

"Are you going to hurt me now, Jacinta?" she asked timidly.

Jacinta smothered a smile at the thought. "No Sophie, I'm not. I had hoped you would know me better than that by now."

"How long have you known?"

"For some time now … so many little things but the thing about Daniel sealed it. So we finally meet in person, little witch."

"You're not angry? You're not going to hit me?" Sophie asked, incredulous.

"Well, hitting girls smaller than me is not something I do." Jacinta smiled. "But you're my friend, and you explained about yourself and Daniel."

Sophie crept up and hugged her friend. She had just been given a gift of great worth, she was accepted and understood. Sophie was the girl that no one understood.

As she was hugging her friend a dam finally broke inside. She started with tears of happiness and then she was overcome, while the older girl held her and she sobbed and sobbed till she was cried out.

* * *

"Don't ever try that thing I showed you again. Not unless I am there, it is very dangerous," Sophie told Pericles carefully as she walked into the room to find him awake.

"Don't try what, Sophie?" Pericles asked, puzzled.

"I've been keeping secrets from my friends. Jacinta tells me I have to trust them. What we did on the stairs and the fountain. That was beyond being dangerous. That was the source of your life-force. There are things that can go wrong which are worse than death. Don't try anything like that without me there."

"That was you?" Pericles looked at the small elf in shock. "But I thought it was a much older woman, very beautiful."

"That's me, too. I'm glad you think I'm beautiful. That was me in my previous life, like a memory."

"A memory can't have talked to me like that," Pericles said firmly.

"No, you're right," Sophie admitted. "It's closer to me being both Sophie and that older woman at the same time."

Great Athēnā! Pericles thought, his head spinning.

Sophie was weirder than he could ever have imagined. Two souls in the one body.

Then it didn't matter, as he saw Sophie, just a little girl, staring anxiously at him. She was trying not to show how frightened she was that he, too, would reject her.

"Sophie, come here." Pericles held his arms out to cuddle the little elf. "I don't know what to say. Thank you! We are lucky to have you."

"You like me, even though I'm weird?" Sophie asked.

Pericles cuddled her. "Not in spite of anything, Sophie. We love you as you are."

Sophie started to cry. That was what she wanted more than anything.

"Besides," Pericles ruffled her hair, "if you think you're weird, what about me?"

Sophie laughed in delight, her tears forgotten.

Pericles was right. A man who had come back from the dead? No one else had ever done that, no matter how powerful.

She was weird, yes. But he was really weird.

* * *

Seléne and Pericles were talking softly to each other. Pericles was gaining strength faster than from his previous healing but he still spent a lot of time sleeping. Sophie, Jacinta and Elena were tidying up, giving the two some time together.

Seléne was next to him, smiling, and he was stroking her hair. "I love the feel of your hair. It's so silky. I love the sound of your voice and the graceful way you move."

"Well, Greek, you had better get used to me being around. You need me to look after you."

Pericles sighed. "I will just have to put up with that somehow, I guess." He chuckled, smiling at his lovely elf princess.

"Just as well, Pericles, I took my eye off you for a minute, and you almost got yourself killed. I don't know how I could have lived without you. But what happens now? Sophie, you said someone I loved would die."

Sophie smiled happily. "Yes I did, isn't it good?"

Jacinta nodded enthusiastically.

"It did work out rather well, don't you think? " Pericles agreed.

Seléne just stared at her friends, appalled and hurt. "How can you even talk like that?"

"But he …" Sophie started. Jacinta and Pericles signalled for her to hush.

Pericles looked deep into Seléne's eyes.

"Seléne, darling, when I first saw you, I thought I had died and I was in heaven. I thought you were an angel. I loved you then. It feels like I have loved you all my life.

"When you said you loved me, it was more than I could possibly hope for. I want to love you and protect you. I don't want anyone to hurt you again. Seléne, in the presence of our friends here … Will you marry me? I don't have much that …"

But he didn't get to finish. Seléne squealed and threw herself on her handsome Greek.

"Yes! Yes, I love you. I want more than anything to marry you!"

"But won't the Great King object? Seléne is a princess, I am nothing special," Pericles asked anxiously as he cuddled his beautiful elf.

"I would definitely not say that. No one can object under the circumstances," Jacinta said firmly. "Now, tell Seléne what she is getting herself into, before I do."

"What do you mean?" Seléne asked, confused.

"Tell her, Pericles," Jacinta ordered firmly.

Pericles sighed and took a deep breath. "Seléne, I was more than badly hurt … I died."

Seléne looked at him, disbelieving. "What do you mean? Jacinta healed you, I know …"

"I don't mean I almost died, like the first time with Hakeem. Jacinta will tell you. I was dead.

"Sophie had showed me a way to access my life source. That's how I got my strength back in Troia so I could come with you and, er … get killed.

"When I died, Jacinta couldn't do anything, there was no life energy to work on. But I hadn't crossed over. Sophie helped me to get back and drink some of the life energy before it all drained away. It gave my soul a boost and then Jacinta had something to work with.

"I came back for you, Seléne. The love I bear for you is stronger than death."

Seléne put her hands to her face, her eyes rolled back in her head and … she fainted.

"Don't worry. She'll come out of it!" Jacinta announced loudly, chuckling with amusement.

"Her pulse is slow," she said, checking it. "Mother told me that sometimes happens when you faint. She'll be fine in a minute. Elves go really pale when they faint, don't you think, Pericles?"

While Jacinta was talking, a distraught Pericles had scooped up his new fiancée, anxious she would not wish to marry him.

"You should put her feet higher than her head, not the other way around," Jacinta added.

Pericles shot her a look of complete disgust.

But Seléne was waking up. "Oh," she said, still very groggy. "I had the strangest dream. I dreamt I was marrying a dead man."

"If you'll still have me," Pericles said, cuddling his elf. "But I don't know if I am dead or alive … technically I mean. Perhaps we could find out, but then I don't think this has happened before so I don't know who we could ask."

"Don't worry," Sophie said anxiously. "It's still your Pericles and he loves you very much."

Seléne smiled a little uncertainly at Pericles. "I know all that. It's just a bit of a shock, that's all."

Meanwhile something inside Seléne was screaming out, "I'm marrying a dead man!"

"Is there any, you know, unexpected effects from this?" she asked.

Sophie shrugged. "I don't know what you would call un-expected, this has never happened before. But I don't think so."

Great! Seléne thought, her mind was racing with ridiculous thoughts.

An absurdly funny image flashed into her mind of when Pericles really did die; well, die a second time ... or would it be the third time? For some reason she was in a nightgown. She was trying to keep him in his sarcophagus by sitting on the lid. It kept moving under her. It was horrible, but somehow funny at the same time.

She chuckled. The strain of the last few days was definitely catching up with her. Was she becoming hysterical? The answer was yes! A very definite yes!

She shook her head helplessly; there was only one thing she could think to do.

She snuggled into the arms of the man she loved. "Please, no one say anything else. That includes you, Pericles. I don't want to hear anymore. Please, everyone leave me with my betrothed. I need a little time."

* * *

Daniel felt confused and resentful. Jacinta had withdrawn from him. She didn't want to spend time with him in case Sophie got upset.

Sophie, Sophie, Sophie!

He was sick of the strange girl and how she felt she owned him.

He had complained to Galenos but he simply laughed. He said it must be nice to have two girls fighting over him, but it certainly wasn't.

He really cared for Sophie. She was small and pretty and lonely and brave and fun. But he didn't love her. And now the girls seemed to be holding some sort of raffle to decide who had him. Women! He thought disgustedly.

Then an idea occurred to him. For this he would have to prepare.

He took the reflective devices Elena and Seléne used for grooming. He calmed himself with deep meditation and inspected the energy centres in his body. They felt healthy and seemed to shine with healthy glow.

Good.

He blew on the mirrors and murmured some ancient words. They grew larger and reflected clearer than water. He positioned them carefully on stands so they looked at each other. Then he lay on a cushion as comfortably as he could so his head was carefully positioned in between.

There was an endless series of Daniels on either side, repeated over and over again. The images were small but they would do. Then he started a very special form of meditation.

The faces changed. The ones on the right blurred. On his left, from his past, each looked different. Most looked angry or deeply sad. Then he saw the one he had searched for. It was strangely familiar but at the same time shocking in its difference. It was the face of someone carrying a great burden, it looked haunted.

This incarnation was several thousands of years ago but in the realm in which he had now strayed time had no meaning, no beginning and no end. He knew the famous name and now knew it was himself, yet not himself. He felt a sense of dizziness as he strained to merge with the ancient figure.

He strained to merge with Ǽlward.

* * *

Aléxandros looked at his mother in shock. "I thought you prevented that slut having a boy!" Olympias was looking frightened, in shock herself. Her situation, and that of her son, had suddenly become perilous. She felt a trap was closing in on her.

Her brother was going to marry her daughter, but her daughter hated her. Kleopatra Eurydíkē was her husband's "first" wife and a true blood Makedóne. The Makedóne nobles may demand her newborn son become Philippos's heir.

And if that happened, Aléxandros would have nothing.

"My husband has offered Arrhidaeus to marry Boteiras's daughter. He refuses to give you anything, saying you are his heir and will have all that is his. But if anything goes wrong, you will have nothing, I will have nothing! The Bithynian Prince, Boteiras, doesn't have an heir, if you marry his daughter, our future will be secure."

* * *

"Daniel?" Sophie had come searching for Daniel.

He had been missing most of the day and at first she was curious but now she was worried. She found him curled up rigid, oblivious to her presence. She gazed into his face, and then she saw the mirrors that he had flung away in horror.

"Oh, Daniel," Sophie gasped. "What have you done?"

Daniel came back to his awareness with Jacinta holding him firmly and forcing him to drink.

The others were clustered around anxiously. He tried to fight her off as the bleak despair washed over him again.

"Jacinta let me die!"

But Jacinta was stronger than him. She held him firmly until he had drunk to her satisfaction. "I'll let you have a rest, and then my mother has made some broth for you. I won't let you argue."

He could hardly move, hardly talk, as the blackness engulfed him again. "You can't. I have to die. Please kill me. IF YOU LOVE ME, EVEN A LITTLE, PLEASE KILL ME!" he yelled.

Then he saw Sophie's face. "Get her away!" he screamed.

Sophie looked like she had been hit but her face looked determined as she approached. She talked to him rapidly in a language that was incomprehensible to most alive today.

"Ǽlward, my love, I have never stopped loving you. You know that."

"Oh Maerwen, to see you again makes me burn with unbearable shame." Daniel turned his back on her in his misery.

"I have returned for you."

"How could you … with so much blood on my hands?"

He curled up and pulled a blanket over his head. Sophie sighed deeply and decided to let him be. She left with the women to talk.

"You don't think Daniel will hurt himself?" asked Elena anxiously.

"No, he won't," Sophie said. "He, more than anyone, knows if he does he will keep returning till this is solved. He has to face this, but something like this may take more than one lifetime."

"More than one lifetime is time we haven't got," Jacinta said grimly. "They will come for us again."

Elena was looking at Sophie in awe. "I know a tiny bit of the ancient tongue though your accent is strange and you talked so fast. You said you had come back."

Sophie nodded. She started to speak, but her eyes glazed for an instant. Then Sophie continued in a voice not her own. She had become the ancient entity, Maerwen.

"I am not just Sophie, I am also Maerwen. I ascended and have returned to this plane. Ǽlward is a memory for Daniel, but for Sophie I am much more."

Elena and Seléne moved back slightly and bowed deeply. Jacinta bowed, touching her forehead to the ground. It was still the body of Sophie but it was far more than just a nine-year-old child that stood before them.

"Please don't do that, especially not you, Jacinta," Maerwen asked as they bowed.

"I ascended so I cannot truly return to this plane. My return has created Sophie.

"In her next incarnation she will not have my memories and her soul will not be fused so strongly with mine."

"And you will be her spirit guide," Jacinta said, in awe.

They were seeing the birth of a new soul.

Maerwen smiled. "Jacinta, truly you are the daughter. You understand so much. It is more complicated and cannot truly be explained in words. Ascension is a metaphor. This plane you call reality does not exist, except inside each of us, so I didn't really leave. The next plane is closer to true reality but is still not there. A better metaphor is transformation, like into a butterfly, becoming free of this world."

"Like Gautama Buddha?" Jacinta asked.

"You have heard of him?" Maerwen was surprised. "Ah yes, Hakeem had a Win Chen master for a while. Yes, like Siddhārtha Gautama."

"So you 'returned' to a place that you never left because it doesn't exist and you never were really here in the first place. You are two when you are really one because we are all not really here at all." Jacinta concluded, suddenly feeling very small and insignificant.

Maerwen laughed. "I could not have put it better myself."

"Souls can be linked. You and Ǽlward were linked. Perhaps we all are linked," Jacinta said, thinking out loud.

"Jacinta, I need to explain about Daniel."

"He's Ǽlward! Has he returned to help us too?" Jacinta asked.

"No," Maerwen stated flatly. "Daniel is not Ǽlward, and that is a very good thing.

"I hope Daniel can help us but his connection to Ǽlward makes him dangerous. The more you need his help, the stronger his connection to Ǽlward needs to become and the more dangerous he will be.

"Daniel has moved beyond Ǽlward over countless incarnations of pain and suffering. I hope it will be enough for him. He has used magic to force a total recall and guilt has overwhelmed him."

"Ǽlward did not ascend," Jacinta said very quietly.

Maerwen shook her head. "Ǽlward did not ascend. He had chosen not to ascend many incarnations earlier which gave him great power. He was a very old soul. Then he did something awful and paid a terrible price.

"Jacinta, I warned you Daniel was very dangerous. I more than anyone else alive today know just how dangerous he could be.

"Elves had been failing for thousands of years and Ǽlward was obsessed with finding the cure, and he changed. He believed he could see the future clearly. He believed for elves, there would be two great confrontations. If the elves won the first confrontation they would be utterly destroyed in the second."

They wouldn't unite with humans as equals, Jacinta thought.

"He lived to a great age," Maerwen continued. "He tried to control all magical knowledge and training. He refused to pass on what he knew. Then something happened to the books of knowledge."

"He hid the items of elf magic," Seléne whispered.

"No, who ever said that?" Maerwen laughed. "He hid the 'book that should not be read' but he had failed to open it. It was very ancient. The 'Mirror of the Ancients' was mine. I gave it to my best student, so it remained in Elgard. The other items I have no knowledge of."

Jacinta felt a pang of disappointment; so Daniel didn't know where the other items were, nor did Maerwen, but Maerwen was continuing.

"There began a persecution of lesser magicians and witches but it was really Ǽlward behind it. He was blind to his own arrogance. He was not a God to make such decisions."

"Was he right?" Seléne whispered.

"It remains beyond my vision. But it seemed to me then and it seems to me now that he failed in his duty to trust the Great Earth Mother.

"He delved too deeply into things that he should have left alone. In his pride, he left himself open to the influence of darkness. He knew this, but thought he could control it, but darkness once inside can be very subtle. Whether he was deceived or not is not yet clear to me. He said he foresaw an ancient evil awakened."

"What ancient evil?" Jacinta asked.

"I don't really know," Maerwen admitted. She smiled. "We weren't really getting on towards the end."

"Let's not dwell on that now," Elena said. "We must help him overcome the part of him that is Ǽlward, and face what Ǽlward has done."

"What did he do?" Seléne asked.

Maerwen sighed. "My Lady Seléne and my Queen Elena, you will know. He caused the fall of the Western Elves."

The girls sat in silence for a long while.

"But you said you forgave him," Seléne said.

"He has to forgive himself. All those dead, all those innocent dead, and he loved Troia more than anything."

"You said he knew what he was doing to himself?" Jacinta asked.

"He knew, but he thought he had to do it. While he was filled with arrogance, it was also an act of love in its own way.

"It may have been misguided, I cannot judge. He voluntarily brought suffering on his own people but he did damage to himself which he has had to suffer lifetime after lifetime to repair."

"You did not tell us what happened between the two of you," Elena said softly.

Tears started rolling down Maerwen's cheeks and she sighed and shook her head.

Despite ascension, the memory was painful.

"I was young and he had lived a long time. I had been his lover in previous lives. You don't know him as he was, before he turned. We had two daughters. Both our daughters could do magic. Jacinta said some souls are linked and incarnate together. This was true of the four of us.

"I was from Elgard and when he became strange, my daughters and I fled back there. We set up a school and a hospital. There we struggled to use our gifts to help the people and heal the sick. With the trouble Ǽlward was stirring up, people were starting to fear any of those who had magic.

"Well, he denounced us. He said we practised dark magic. We were innocent of all charges. It was Ǽlward who had practised dark magic. It was he that sought power over people. We didn't resist, we didn't fight back. We simply continued with our work.

"I sent most of our students into hiding. They became the sisterhood that Sophie herself belongs to. Eventually the elves came and they bound us."

"What did you do?" Seléne asked.

"We did the only thing we could do.

"We were brought before a court. It was so horrible and frightening. So many were ready to accuse us of causing what was just their own misfortune or caused by their own folly, just because we were witches. Absence of evidence was not enough.

"What good we did was only seen as a clever cover for our darker nature. It seemed to be taken as proof of our guilt by our accusers. We were supposed to deny the charges, but that would have done no good, so we did not give them the satisfaction.

"We did not speak. They hurt us and we still would not speak. For me, I could bear the agony and humiliation of our trial, but it was an anguish and torture to give my own daughters over to it. They bore it bravely. Ǽlward was so certain that we would fight back using our magic. It would have saved us but only would have proven the charges against us.

"We were condemned."

Her voice became distant as she remembered. "They hurt us, we let them do their worst and when they had finished, they took us to the Agora. They stripped us of our clothes. People were throwing rocks, screaming abuse and thirsting to hurt us even more. We stood before them bleeding from many wounds and naked but we stood proud and defiant. It incensed them, they tied me and our two daughters to stakes and bundled firewood up around us.

"It was then that I answered my accusers and my husband. I told my daughters to be brave and not cry out. I used a spell that meant we were not affected by the heat or the smoke … and when the fire was finally very hot, I removed the spell." She paused, tears now running freely down her cheeks.

"It broke his power over the Eastern Elves. It was soon after that he stopped the magic he was using to keep himself alive."

They were all stunned. "That was horrible! He had his own wife and daughters burnt."

"What was horrible is what we did to him, but he gave us no choice. He was beyond reaching in any other way. Now you see what he has to face.

"We forgave him.

"As to the fall of the Western Elves it is so long ago that forgiveness is not required. He, however, remembers it freshly as if it was yesterday. It is he that is unable to bear it.

"We need him; I never had his sort of power. We won't be able to fight what is to come without him."

"There's something else," Sophie added, coming back to herself. "Our enemies already know their men have failed."

 

 

Chapter 23: The Entrance to the Catacombs

Now that Jacinta told them where it was, Elena's workers had finally managed to locate and excavate one corner of the Temple of the Great Mother. The temple complex itself was huge, and somewhere within it was the entrance to the catacombs. The catacombs had been built over thousands of years and were the size of a great city themselves. To find what they searched for, they would need Daniel.

Jacinta had come to ask Sophie if she could help, but she shook her head unhappily. "I never lived long in Troia."

"How is Daniel?" Jacinta asked.

She didn't really need to ask. The little girl was looking worn and dispirited. She had lost weight which she could ill afford.

"He won't talk at all and I can hardly get him to eat or drink."

A look of grim determination came over Jacinta's face. She pushed roughly past the little girl and started to march towards the old summit camp where they nursed Daniel.

"What are you going to do?" Sophie cried in a panic, trying to catch at Jacinta's arm.

Jacinta didn't reply, she continued determinedly onwards.

"Stop!" Sophie called out. She was frantic, trying to head the bigger girl off. "You don't understand what he is going through. It's destroying him."

"Get out of my way. I'm sick of this. I will deal with Daniel. I don't care who he thinks he is or once was." Jacinta shouted angrily.

Seléne looked alarmed as Jacinta barged in. "Don't upset him. He is very delicate."

"Seléne, GET OUT OF MY WAY!" Jacinta shouted.

Seléne looked shocked.

Jacinta started to advance on her.

"You know who I am. I am the daughter. You will leave us. GO NOW!" she shouted.

"Get Elena, quickly!" Sophie shouted.

Seléne ran pale and crying in search of her sister.

Daniel looked up at Jacinta dully. He had lost a lot of weight and there was a sickly smell in the room.

"I can't … it's over."

"Now you listen to me, you snivelling little pig!" Jacinta shouted. "In your unbounded arrogance you caused all this suffering and now you refuse to help. Do you know why? It's because you think you are too precious.

"Ǽlward the so-called high and mighty! Well, excuse me if I don't bow!"

Daniel looked at her in shock. "You can't know, you're not an elf! I can hear them crying out."

"And you know what, I don't care! You have no right expecting pity, what did you think would be the result? It's just an echo, it's just ghosts.

"The brave girl you murdered needs your help. You tortured her then and you are torturing her now. Because of you, your friends are in need or were we ever really your friends?

"Ooh, the ghosts of Troia are calling out,"' Jacinta mimicked cruelly.

"It's me, me, me! You thought you were strong and smart but you are just a conceited mongrel of a dog. You completely disgust me!

"Sophie came back to help you put right what you caused. She loves you. The girl's a complete idiot. You're not in the least worth it. You started this mess and by the Gods you will not let a bunch of women fix it. What sort of sorry excuse for a man are you, anyway?

"You will get up and off your fat useless bum and you will pull yourself together, or by the God of the Sun and the heavens I will get my staff and you will find it's all very well to bully me when I was barely trained. You'll never stand against me now. Or are you too much of a coward for even that?

"UP YOU GET!"

Daniel went bright red and scrambled up to face Jacinta. He was furious. His fists were bunched up and he was panting hard. "Now you listen to me!"

Jacinta just stood facing him with her arms folded, grinning.

There was the sound of running outside the door and Seléne and Elena burst in. Daniel realised he had inflated his chest, ready to shout back at Jacinta. He let it out shakily and grinned ruefully.

"I guess you're right about me having no right to feel sorry for myself. Thanks Jacinta, at least I think I should thank you. You certainly do have a way with you when you get going.

"I hope that's not really what you think of me." He laughed softly. "You're right about one thing though. Around you, I don't look very clever. I didn't realise what you were doing till you had already done it. Now, do you want my help or is this just social call to abuse me?"

Jacinta came forward and gently put her hands on his shoulders and kissed him on the lips. "You mean a great deal to me, Daniel, you'll always be a very dear friend but the days of treating you like a delicate flower are over."

"I think I understood that part of the message," Daniel chuckled.

Jacinta went to Seléne who was looking hurt and tearful. "Dearest Seléne, please forgive me. I had no choice, I had to make it convincing."

Seléne shakily laughed, as she hugged her Gypsy friend. "Do those paladin lessons of yours include acting lessons? You can be as scary as your father."

Jacinta went to walk out, looking infinitely pleased with herself. She paused to look back at Daniel. "And you will eat something first, no excuses. Don't make them send for me again or I will bring my staff." As she passed Sophie she winked. "He's all yours, Sophie."

Daniel yelled after her. "I may have let myself slip but as soon as I'm back in shape I'll show you I can still use a staff better than you ever will. I'll have you begging for lessons."

Seléne and Sophie shook their heads in wonder. Jacinta said she would deal with Daniel and no sooner did she say it than it was done.

"You need to know where the book is, great Queen," Daniel said getting down to business. He was still looking a bit stunned. "We really don't have a lot of time. It's not safe here."

"I understand that." Elena agreed mildly. "Perhaps you may tell us what we have to do then. We have broken through to the temple of the Great Mother."

Daniel looked alert but weak. "Sorry my Lady Elena, I had better eat and drink something first. Do I have a fat bum?"

Sophie nodded laughing. "Yes, and don't forget useless. I plan to ask Jacinta to get you back to exercising." All the anguish of the last few days was gone for her.

Daniel felt his bum. Sophie laughed. He had lost weight, it wasn't at all fat.

From then on if Daniel felt himself slipping back, he got an image of Jacinta. There was simply no time to immerse himself in guilt.

* * *

Daniel ate more of the broth than he expected and someone had made fresh bread. He felt stiff and weak from his period of inactivity but it was good to feel hungry again and then to be up and walking around.

He washed and then went to check his weapons. Someone had unstrung his war bow and carefully stored it in its gorytos. Jacinta, he realised. He shook his head a little regretfully as he put it away. The young boy that had once used that bow was gone forever.

He gave Sophie a long hug and a fierce kiss. Then, lifting his quarter staff, he hurried to meet with Elena and Jacinta.

* * *

The exploration shaft was the size of a large deep well. Jacinta and the Queen were waiting there with two of the workers they had fetched back from a nearby village after the danger had passed. Now that the need for secrecy was past, they had employed a bigger work force.

The shaft had a ladder leaning against one side and a pulley system on a frame over the top for removal of debris. It made it even look like a well.

As Daniel saw it, he felt curiously reluctant. Memories came flooding back. Two thousand years had passed but it seemed like yesterday!

"Do you want me to go down, Daniel, and you can direct me from up here?" Jacinta asked sweetly.

Daniel laughed. "No, I wouldn't dream of allowing you to do that."

Jacinta waited, giving him an even look.

"I suppose I should go down there," he said unenthusiastically.

"Do you think that will be required?" Jacinta asked.

"Alright, Jacinta, I think you have made your point. Have you found the stairs leading to the catacombs yet? No? Well, come on then. Let's see if we can find them for you."

Two of the workers went down first, followed closely by Daniel then Jacinta and Elena.

The elves make fine torches from birch or hickory. They are made from thick green hard wood to give a fire resistant handle and a head. The head is split and then packed with alternating layers of seasoned and green wood. The green wood is added to make it last longer. It is then all soaked in pitch-resin from pine, and wrapped round and round with densely packed layers of green bark with a little mud. They would last several hours.

To make them flare, all one had to do is simply swing them back and forward or if not much is needed and you didn't mind smoke, you one could try blowing on them.

But even the best pitch torches are dirty, smelly, dangerous things to carry. Daniel had a better idea. As he disappeared down the ladder he was muttering incomprehensible words.

"You must watch this!" he announced grandly. He snapped his fingers and the tip of the staff he was carrying began to glow, giving off a blue-white light.

* * *

"We are walking on the roof of something," Daniel murmured, inspecting the initial part of the excavation.

"Really?" Jacinta said sweetly. "It's the roof of something. I'm so glad you're with us, we would never have known. We are walking on the roof of something."

"Thank you, Jacinta," Daniel had his eyes closed, "but you're not helping me think. You may be surprised to hear I didn't usually climb over the roofs of my city.

"Something here feels very wrong. I could use magic to locate the stairs but I don't think that would be safe somehow. Are you sure this is it, my Queen?"

Elena nodded. "Sophie tried to help with the map, but she never lived in Troia. So we missed this building with the first two shafts. When we found the roof we dug horizontal shafts."

Elena gestured to several narrow tunnels branching out from where they were. They were braced with wooden beams. "I'll show you what we have found."

Daniel looked around and back up the main shaft. "It's much deeper than I would ever have expected. It's really been a long time, hasn't it?"

Elena nodded and led on. There didn't seem to be much to say to that.

They had to crouch low and bend over. The horizontal shafts were dug in a search pattern. The area covered by the Great Mother Temple was immense. Elena led them by some twists and turns to a more open area where the five of them could stand together. Nearby was a large area where the roof disappeared, a collapse. Back from that was a ragged hole.

"The roof caved in here," Elena explained. "You can climb down. Careful you don't pull some of it down on us."

The workers insisted on going first and Elena crawled after them. After a few feet she called back warningly, "It's very dusty."

It was a completely superfluous remark.

Everyone was crawling in several inches of dry dust with dust falling lightly from above like a summer shower. Elena had a coughing fit. Suddenly there was an explosion of leathery wings. Jacinta and Elena screamed.

"Bats!" one of the workers cursed. "How did they find a way in? Sorry my Lady, they weren't here before."

There was a space about the size of a large room filled with dirt almost to the roof at one end. against one wall there was part of a fresco showing an unknown God riding on a pod of dolphins.

Daniel seemed to be half in a trance. "This could be it," he said thoughtfully as he held his staff higher.

Elena waited for him to find it himself.

He moved to the left and when he saw it, he sank to his knees. A small pit had been dug revealing a huge marble head. Daniel reverently ran his fingers over it. It was the remains of a giant statue of the Great Mother Goddess.

Jacinta walked up to where Daniel crouched. He turned to look up. In the uncertain light he seemed pale and distressed. There were tears in his eyes. "I loved her, you know."

Jacinta nodded silently; she wasn't sure what he was referring to, but it didn't matter.

"When you're ready, let us know."

Daniel was jerked back from some brooding thought. "Huh? Yeah, let me think. He held his staff up and examined the ceiling. There were faint marks of a painting on the ceiling showing the heavens.

"The statue has been moved," he started. "See it was blackened by the fire that caused the roof to cave in? Someone has been here since, for it to be here. Someone has come back looking for treasure, a long time ago. It was gilded, see how they scraped at it?"

He looked at the ceiling again.

"This was painted an unimaginable time ago. We kept repainting it but the heavens no longer looked like that, even in my time. See that large star, it was bright for a long time but it's gone now. How could I have lived for so long?" He paused but then he turned and started pointing things out.

"The great statue was in this direction. There was a great arch over here …" (He pointed) "… but we are above it and a corridor." He then looked in triumph. "That's the direction! It's easily a dozen times the distance of there to there." (He used the ceiling as a measure).

"What if the entrance is collapsed like here?" Jacinta asked.

"It won't be, it is dug into limestone rock and there are many layers and chambers. Believe me, it will still be there."

Elena quietly gave instructions to the workers.

"Can I have a little time here?" Daniel whispered.

"No," Jacinta said flatly.

Daniel took a shaky breath and nodded. "You're right Jacinta, thank you.

"It feels so strange. It's like going to sleep and when you wake up it's all gone. Everything is destroyed and everything has aged impossibly. It's all gone to dust."

He saw Jacinta's worried look. "Don't worry, it's me. Or at least I think it's still me."

Jacinta started to lead him back but Elena held up her hand. "Wait! Daniel, can you feel it?"

Daniel paused. "I can feel it!" he said in horror. "There are souls crying out."

Elena looked grim. She wondered what they would face.

"The sooner we finish this, the happier I will be."

 

 

 

Chapter 24: The Necropolis and What Abided Within

They had broken through to the catacombs and planned to enter them the next morning. Pericles and Seléne had just left for Troia. Elena was busy so it was just three of them sitting around the embers of a cooking fire.

Jacinta said. "You don't know where the other items are, do you?"

"No," Daniel and Sophie said in unison.

They had been sitting together, a little apart from the others, talking softly to one another.

"The book is here, the mirror of far-seeing should be in Elgard," Daniel continued. "The legend of the man in the armour was from a terrible time when the elves were fleeing from the land of snow and ice to reach Anatolē.

"Daimôns cannot abide the cold and for long that region had been their refuge, but the earth became warmer and they were attacked again. There never were written records of that time. He just appeared, no one knows from where, and then disappeared again without any warning. The armour and his weapons went with him

"I and my helpers searched through the library for a mention of that strange room but we found nothing."

Jacinta said nothing about the mirror being found.

Sophie turned to Daniel. "You were never able to open it, were you, love?"

Daniel nodded. "No. Let's get some sleep. I have a dread feeling about the catacombs. I fear we will need all our wits and strength when we enter them tomorrow."

Daniel and Sophie slept clothed, but they slept together.

Jacinta sat by the fire awhile, checking her shield, the balance of her javelins, the thong attached to each for launching them, and the sharpness of her blades. Then she too went to sleep.

* * *

"We must be careful, my Queen," Drakon said as they gathered around the shaft leading to the entrance to the catacombs. "Can you feel them crying out? As we get closer to the entrance, it is getting stronger."

"It is the pain from the fall of Troia," Elena whispered.

"No, my Queen, it is coming from the catacombs itself. As Troia fell, the catacombs were sealed to prevent the Greeks despoiling the graves. Most buried there were buried in gentler times, but now their voices cry out in pain and horror. There's something down there, something unwholesome."

"No natural creature could live down there," Galenos said. "I will come and help."

"Thank you, my friend, but not this time." Drakon shouldered his bow and nodded to his best ten warriors who waited ready. "We travel the ancient catacombs. This is a job that elves must do."

"The company is decided. The numbers are fourteen," Sophie said with a strange, distant look on her face.

Elena turned to her. "Daniel has to go but there is no reason for Jacinta to risk herself."

"This is not your task, my Queen," Sophie said dully, looking strange. "It is Jacinta's. She must go."

Elena nodded slowly, reluctantly.

"I suppose you want to go too?"

Sophie looked startled. "I don't know what you will face down there but I do know it is far beyond me."

"And yet, they will not go without me," Elena said grimly. "I will make the fourteenth."

Jacinta gave Sophie a small hug. "Don't worry, Sophie, we will come back." But Sophie held herself stiffly in the hug and as Jacinta pushed away she saw a look of anguish on her friend's face.

"It is my task," she whispered so softly that only the little girl could hear her.

She said nothing about this to the others, there was no need.

They all started, considerably chastened. The warriors led the way followed by Daniel, and then Elena. Jacinta was last.

They climbed down to roof of the temple as they had before, and then followed the long tunnel moving roughly east towards to the catacomb entrance.

Jacinta carried water and rations and her peltē (shield) slung over her back. She carried five throwing spears, her long elvish sword and her large elf knife.

The elves and Elena had bows, swords and knives. As well as their water and rations, they carried spare torches and digging tools. Most of them looked like pack horses and they all had to bend low and squeeze themselves through the long tunnel.

Daniel carried his rations but his only weapon was his staff, its shaft now bore silvery runes. Where they had come from no one but Daniel knew. They glowed faintly in the dark. The tip was glowing brightly as before, but it danced as he walked, casting moving shadows.

Jacinta, in the rear, was given one of the flaming, smoking, spitting pitch torches. In the narrow tunnel the smoke made her cough and her eyes water. She was in constant danger of setting fire to her own hair or her mother's pack as they made their stop-start progress through the narrow space.

Before the destruction of Troia, the temple of the Great Mother Goddess stood in its own parkland and flower gardens, walled off from the rest of the city. Only part of the entire complex had been open to the public.

The entry to the catacombs was via a vast domed antechamber, dug out of the limestone caverns and deep below the surface. It had been sealed off in the final moments of the fall of Troia and had survived the sack of the city.

No ladder could reach down through such a gap, un-supported. So they had a ladder leading to scaffolding. Still, this meant a long climb down a ladder that swayed alarmingly with their weight. They could only go three at a time.

Halfway down Elena froze. Then she was able to gather her courage and move on. Even Jacinta looked decidedly pale as they gathered down below.

Part of the grand entrance was collapsed and they had to climb over rubble to reach a wide marble staircase that wound the way down the first three levels. As they got lower there was less rubble on the stair and walking became easier.

In ancient times, no visitors had been allowed to pass unescorted into the vast necropolis (city of the dead). No one knew more than a few of the paths. Anyone who got lost had little chance of finding their way out.

The very ancient sections, closer to the surface, had been long sealed off. Up to the time of the fall of Elvish Troia, those chambers had not been trodden by anyone living for thousands of years. The last burials had been at level five and six though there other levels below and half-levels as well and some underground caves.

King Priamos, Héctor, Paris and the royal children were buried somewhere down in the lower levels in secret. Their remains were said to be recovered from where the Greeks had despoiled them.

There is the legend of Dius, an elf hero from the war. It was said Dius recovered Helénē's remains from her lonely grave in Spartē. Inside the catacombs he failed to find the graves of her family and perished in the search.

His last act was to bury Helénē with what honour he could, but it is said this doomed her to wander the catacombs forever, crying for her children, her family and Paris, her one true love.

They descended to the third level and then Daniel led them through a corridor and down steps leading to one part of the fourth level. They could walk upright, but had to go in single file. At either side were small side tunnels where one could see alcoves and crypts.

The third level was crusted with limestone but by the fourth level they were starting to come across ancient stalactites and stalagmites. "This level can get wet in prolonged rain but there were underground rivers much deeper, even in my day," Daniel explained softly.

He paused to kneel in reverence at a mausoleum, without offering any explanation. Then he got up to lead them in a side direction.

"Whatever is down here," he whispered, "it is on the fifth level or lower. Let's hope it doesn't become aware of us." The rest cast anxious glances around.

"It didn't take me as long to reach here when I hid the book," Daniel whispered after two hours of walking.

At last he led them to what looked like another section of the solid stone wall.

"This isn't a wall," he explained and leaned against it, concentrating.

Then he began to murmur something inaudible. A doorway appeared in the solid-seeming rock. When he was satisfied, he straightened up and leaned forward and pushed … and nothing happened.

"I can't budge it," he said unnecessarily. "It must be stuck."

For once Jacinta let this comment pass. It showed how anxious she was. Instead she was glancing back the way they had come.

"I think whatever it is down here might be coming closer," she said in a hushed whisper.

"Uh-oh," Daniel said. "It sensed me activating the door. Whatever it is, we are going to meet it very soon. Can you men push this? Hurry, please!"

Desperately the elven warriors threw themselves at the door. It yielded only slowly, grudgingly.

As they squeezed through, Daniel ran ahead. "It's not far!" he shouted breathlessly.

The time for stealth was past. Daniel hurried to a large chamber but ignored the grand mausoleum of some forgotten king. He threw himself desperately on a small stone coffin lid in an alcove to the side, kicking his legs frantically to get purchase.

Drakon and two of his men thrust Daniel roughly aside and almost threw the heavy stone lid aside in their haste. Its corner tilted and hit the ground with a crash and a spray of dirty water.

Drakon paused for a moment there was dirt and small bones in the bottom and in one corner a small, flat, gilded box made of a strange black wood bound with what looked like copper. It seemed covered in runes. He reached down carefully and brought it out to show Daniel.

"Yes, that's it!" Daniel whispered hoarsely and reached out his hand reverently; his eyes were sparkling.

"Oh, no you don't," Jacinta reached across before Daniel could get it. She stowed the box in a leather sachet she had brought for the purpose, securing it to her front by straps.

"You've caused more than enough trouble already. I'll be looking after this from now on."

There was the sound of running feet and two of the warriors burst in. "My Lord, whatever it is, it will be at the door in any moment. Nikeos and four others are trying to close the door."

Just then an explosion shook the chamber and a piece of rock came loose from the ceiling and crashed to the floor.

"The door," Daniel gasped. "Whatever it is, it is powerful."

They could hear an inhuman roar and terrible screams.

"My Queen!" Drakon shouted desperately. "Get behind me."

He pushed the queen and the children into one of the side tunnels. Elena shepherded Daniel and Jacinta in front of her then spun round. She stood in the entrance of the side tunnel and fitted an arrow to her bow and half drew it, waiting. Whatever it was, it would have to get through her to get to the children. Drakon and his remaining men took up positions surrounding the entrance.

And then they saw it.

"Daimôn, Daimôn!" Drakon cried in horror. "Great Mother, save us! It is a daimôn."

"Múspellsmegir!" (Fire Daimôn) Daniel spat, but it was no longer Daniel.

It was Ǽlward.

"Great Queen, none can stand against this thing! The only way to banish it is to kill the one who summoned it." He pushed past to stand in front of Elena, holding his staff pointing, ready.

The daimôn was huge. It had to stoop to enter the chamber. The earth shook as it walked. It looked as if made of molten lava, twice and more as tall as a man. Its burning features were crude and half liquid, as if a volcano had spawned a parody of a man. It let out a great roar as it looked around.

As one, the elves released their arrows.

"Arrows won't work against it!" Ǽlward shouted. "Close your eyes!"

As he pointed his staff, a powerful blue beam stabbed out from it with a great clap of power. The daimôn was partly obscured in the flash of light. When their vision cleared, the daimôn was there, stopped. It roared in fury and then turned and shambled back the way it came.

"What is that thing?" Elena asked.

"It really is a daimôn, my Lady," Ǽlward said. "They do exist; it is why the elves fled to Anatolē. That was a Fire Daimôn. It is very strong but not clever like a Daimôn Lord.

"There used to be an ancient race of men, tall and very fair, much like elves but bearded.

They were called Svartálfar (dark elves). They all lived to a great age but, like the dwarves, their children were few.

"They were great magicians and witches and delved deeply into dark secrets. That was their undoing. A group amongst them learnt to summon daimôns. We called them the Illvættir.

"An unimaginably long time ago a terrible war raged. All the peoples of the earth, including most of the Svartálfar, fought against the Illvættir.

"Though the Illvættir were few and co-operated poorly, none could stand against their daimôns. They hunted down and killed the remaining Svartálfar and pushed the elves and dwarves almost to extinction.

"Then they turned against each other. That there is at least one left is bitter news."

"How do we defeat it?" Elena asked.

"Lady, underground we cannot. You need to get out of here and head for the river. It cannot abide water and is weaker under our sun. To banish it you must find and kill whoever summoned it. That is no easy task because they protect their masters. The path to the door is free, I will delay it. Leave now, a man can outrun it but it does not tire easily."

"You must come with us," Elena cried in horror.

"Lady, I am the only one capable of delaying it. Go to Maerwen, she will know what to do. It is here for the book."

"What will happen if it gets the book?"

"Lady, I don't know. The book can defend itself in ways beyond my art to fathom. The daimôn cannot use it but may find a way to destroy it.

"Go now! It approaches again! I can feel it.

"Tell Maerwen I love her, I always have loved her. And Jacinta, you have been my greatest friend. Maybe now I will repay a small part of the great evil I have caused. Go!"

"We're too late," Jacinta screamed, running out of her corridor to the middle of the chamber. Behind her there was a dull orange glow. The daimôn had circled around.

"It is after the book you're carrying!" Daniel yelled.

The monster had to crawl on its hands and knees and it was knocking rock from the ceiling as it came. The others ran to the exit, but Jacinta turned in front of the exit and hefted a javelin and her shield.

"Jacinta, no!" Ǽlward screamed. He began frantically chanting, and a blue light began to surround him as he gathered his power.

As the daimôn entered, Jacinta threw her javelin with all her might. There was a bright flash as the daimôn was hit, full in the chest. The javelin was there for a moment, burning, and then it was gone. The daimôn staggered but wasn't seriously hurt. It roared and spun at her.

Jacinta snatched a second javelin and readied herself to throw. The daimôn seemed to take a big breath. Elena screamed a warning.

With a mighty explosion of power, Jacinta's body was thrown like a child's small toy.

It hit the wall of the chamber high up. It was held there briefly by the daimôn blast and then it fell like a broken doll, to hit the stone floor hard. The blast was followed by a torrent of flame that engulfed her body.

Jacinta's shield clattered to the ground at Elena's feet, smoking.

"NOO!" Elena screamed.

She couldn't breathe, she gave a terrible howl and ran at the daimôn with her sword but was beaten back by the heat.

The elves spread out to shoot arrows rapidly from several directions. It ignored them.

"My Queen! Get the book!" Ǽlward shouted urgently, but where Jacinta had fallen the floor was glowing with heat.

While he thought the daimôn distracted, Ǽlward hit it again with a blast of his magic. This time it was ready and it braced itself against it and swivelled to confront him. His magic was having little effect and he was tiring.

One of the elf warriors expertly threw his knife. It hit the daimôn in the side and flared briefly. The daimôn let out a deafening roar and replied with a blast of power that shook the cavern. He was thrown, lifeless, against the cave wall.

Then it turned again to finish Ǽlward.

It was struck again and again by knives and swords. It turned its head back and forward to decide which of its tormentors to face. Its next blast of power was noticeably weaker and its fire was fading, but another two of their warriors were flung screaming to their deaths.

"To me! To me! " Ǽlward yelled frantically as he widened his magic to protect himself and the three others remaining.

They were all going to die, Ǽlward was near the end of his strength.

Then, in the corner of his eye, Ǽlward saw a macabre vision from out of a nightmare.

Through the smoke and flames and heat he saw a small black figure stagger to its feet. Its left arm was silvery with sparkles of light. He gasped in horror.

The daimôn had managed to reanimate Jacinta's corpse!

It couldn't be! This was no Daimôn Lord. It couldn't have anything near such power.

And then he realised. The book could protect itself. It had somehow protected Jacinta. His heart leapt, but what had it done to her?

"Jacinta!" he yelled frantically. "Use the book as a shield! Touch the point of your javelin to the book!"

The daimôn seemed to freeze for a minute and slowly turn back to where Jacinta was. It bawled and shook its head in confusion.

Jacinta lay her javelins down and removed the book awkwardly using one hand. She tried to take the book in her left hand but gave a scream of agony and almost dropped it. It was her left hand that had held her shield.

The daimôn looked back at her, deciding what to do. Ǽlward didn't intend to wait for it. While Jacinta crouched to touch the book to the tips of her remaining javelins, he gave the daimôn another blast of power.

"Brace yourselves!" he yelled loudly to the others with him.

The daimôn responded by sending a blast of power and heat at Ǽlward and his three companions. It was finally tiring and its glow had faded noticeably.

The wood of Jacinta's javelins had gone inky black, glowing with the same strange sparkles of light as her arm. She awkwardly replaced the book in its pouch and hefted a javelin. The daimôn stared at Jacinta as if uncertain what to do.

"Great Queen, can you throw your sword? "Ǽlward called desperately.

Elena was still clutching her sword and looked at it for a moment in surprise. Then she threw it but it only hit hilt first. It was enough, the daimôn turned to face her while Jacinta threw one of her javelins with all her might. She fell to her knees and slumped forwards to collapse on the floor, at the end of whatever strength she had had.

Her javelin hit the daimôn full in the centre of the chest with a loud flash.

When it cleared, the daimôn was roaring in pain and confusion. The javelin hadn't burnt up!

It pulled the javelin out. From the wound came a thick stream of dirty, orange blood. A dark sparkling flood was spreading from the wound across its chest. It was running down its arm from where it held the shaft. It was extinguishing its fire. It looked at the javelin, perplexed, then threw it down with a roar of fear and rage and tried to brush the spreading sparkles away.

"Get down!" Ǽlward shouted. "Don't look!"

He tried to extend the magic shield over Jacinta but wasn't sure if he succeeded. A mighty explosion shook the cavern and there was a blast of searing heat. Several of the stalactites crashed to the floor sending a shower of water and mud.

When Ǽlward looked up again, where the daimôn had been was only a giant shape made from smoke, faintly sparkling. It turned to him and started to reach out, pleading. Then, with a sigh, it dissolved as if in a breeze.

The daimôn was gone.

Elena was up and running, dodging the hot area, to where her daughter had fallen. She was shouting something but Ǽlward was having trouble hearing over a ringing in his ears.

He and the others staggered across to where Elena sat cradling her daughter's head. Jacinta's face was like a mask; grey and bathed in sweat. Her left hand was covered by black, sparkling darkness.

"Her pulse is so weak. What can I do?" Elena cried desperately.

Ǽlward grabbed Drakon's remaining warrior by the arm. "Get Sophie, hurry. There's little time."

But the voice of Maerwen rang loudly in their minds. "I'm here! Be quiet! I'm talking to the book. She seems to know me. She will keep Jacinta alive while she decides what to do."

"The book? She? The book is sentient?" It was Daniel that asked.

"The book has a guardian bound to it. Her name means 'Silver'. Wait, she says she will help.

"She is finding it hard to reverse the spell, it's not hers. Now stop shouting while we work."

Jacinta's pulse started to strengthen. She started to pant but she moved restlessly in a coma and her face was screwed up as if she was in great pain, grey and sweating.

Elena lifted her left hand, it was coated in the same dark substance that coated the javelins and attacked the daimôn. When Elena lifted it Jacinta half woke, screaming, "It burns! Mother, it burns!" Then she fainted and didn't rouse again.

Elena hugged her and cried out helplessly through her tears. "Sophie, help us."

"My Lady," Maerwen came into Elena's mind urgently. "Jacinta's body was contaminated by daimôn substance when the daimôn struck her shield. That should have killed her, but the book shielded her and itself.

"When she killed the daimôn, she absorbed a great deal more of its substance in some way. One of the automatic protection spells from the book is now attacking the daimôn substance within her. It will kill her.

"We can't reverse it and only Silver can battle it. That means reinforcing the protection spell she used earlier. But that spell is very powerful and dangerous."

"Is there an alternative?"

"We can keep Jacinta alive minutes, not more, my Queen."

"Don't waste time talking then! Save her!" Elena yelled in outrage.

"But Jacinta will have daimôn substance within her and the effect of two very powerful spells. No one knows what that could mean."

"Just save my daughter, damn you!" Elena yelled angrily, tears running down her cheeks.

"My Lady, we will try," Maerwen agreed solemnly. "But you must understand. If it's not Jacinta anymore, we will have to destroy it."

"You won't kill my daughter! Do you hear me?" Elena demanded.

"Not your daughter any longer, my Queen, and not only kill her. We would release the attacking spell to destroy the human-daimôn hybrid. It would destroy her … body and soul. Now, first let us try to save her."

Jacinta's whole body began to glow brightly with the silver light. It filled the whole cavern. Jacinta her body was freezing like ice as Elena hugged her.

A beautiful voice echoed in Elena's mind. "We have done all we can do for the moment. Your daughter is safe now. She has a strange power in her soul, which I have not encountered before.

"She absorbed a massive dose of daimôn essence and two spells with power beyond your understanding and yet there is little effect, apart from her hand, and she remains your daughter.

"Maerwen can keep her alive and out of pain. But what happens next will take time, I'm afraid. She will need your warmth and more, soon enough.

"I didn't attack Jacinta. I am the guardian of the book but it has its own protective spells. The one who set their daimôn to search for it had no idea of its power."

Elena felt numb and exhausted but she couldn't, wouldn't let go of her daughter.

"Please Queen, trust me. Lay your daughter down. Soon she will need body heat and you must all give it to her."

"You said Jacinta had daimôn substance within her, what does that mean?"

Silver seemed surprised. "Don't you know? Jacinta is resisted it more than I thought possible. She will stay herself.

"We need a fire. Maerwen is bringing more elves and supplies from above. Oh, and there are some very angry Greeks with them who have refused to be left behind.

"You are the Great Queen mentioned in prophecy and this is your daughter that we have waited so long for. I have never encountered anything like her. She is very brave."

An image appeared before Elena of a tall woman with silvery hair, very beautiful, smiling at her. Apart from her hair, she was very like an elf yet she radiated great power.

"Yes, that was me. Thank you for thinking of me as beautiful. It's so long ago, but I still find it nice you think so. I was alive once. In a manner I am not now dead nor am I really alive. My existence is forever bound to the book. It was the only way we could give it enough protection.

"It is true, I am not an elf.

"The book was made by the last of my people. It was close to the time of the dawn of the elves. I am one of the svartálfar race, I had long hoped I was the last," Silver said grimly. "One other remains and it is terrible news. I know him from his daimôn. He was the most powerful of what you elves called Illvættir, which in your ancient tongue means 'the ill breed'. It is a good name. You elves called him Æloðulf, Elf-Wolf; it means hunter of elves."

Elena gasped, all she could think of was what Silver had given up. "You have outlived your people, I'm sorry."

"Yes, I have given up everything. I would give it up again and again in our struggle to end the Illvættir. The Illvættir learnt to summon daimôns. The daimôns obey them and protect them and the Illvættir do not age much, but it is at a terrible cost to them. When they do die, their soul is absorbed by the daimôn.

"Something about what they did drove them mad. They became convinced that all others with power wished to kill them. First they set upon those of us svartálfar that were not Illvættir but had power. Working together, they killed the strongest first. Then they attacked any mage or witch: svartálfr (singular), dwarf, elf and finally human.

"Then they worried about any who might breed future threats to them.

"We battled them long, all races of man were united against them … but we lost. They destroyed my race and all but destroyed the elves and dwarves but for a pitiful handful of fugitives.

"Then they began to increasingly fear each other. It was only when they turned against each other that the races of men were saved from complete destruction.

"It was too much to hope that one did not remain."

"So you had made a weapon."

"Yes, the last of us and any dwarves having greater magic made several weapons and magical means of defence. Inside the box is the most desperate and dreadful of all those weapons. It required several of us working together to make each spell. It is a small book. It doesn't have to be large. It contains the most terrible of our knowledge."

"Why was it never used?" Elena asked.

"The first reason is simple. It was too late for us. The second reason was we had no one suitable."

"You had no one powerful enough?"

Silver sighed. "Power was only one of the requirements. There were still some amongst us powerful enough."