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

Chapter 12: A Trap, in the Desert

They shouldn't be all that far from the Oxos. They had expected to have reached irrigated land by now but all they had found was yet another deserted village and endless stretches of parched land.

This village would have barely been enough for a couple of dozen families. There were a few small houses made of mud and brush, with fences of mud and rocks to keep herd animals out, or maybe in. Bits and pieces of rubbish were lying around: fragments of wood and pots, traces of ancient dung, amphora and mats of woven palm leaves. More ominous was the remains of what had been home-made tents, made ragged with the winds.

"These people would not move on and leave their tents," Iraj said grimly. "Whatever happened here, how long ago was it do you think?"

Jess seemed to sniff the breeze. "Less than a year, I would say."

She slowly walked over to a large mound of rocks and sniffed again. "Some of them are buried here."

She dug around in the sand at her feet and brought out a broken chain link.

"Slavers," she said, scanning the horizon. "They hid the fact they had been here, why would they even bother doing that?"

They spent a few moments standing near the mound, scanning the surrounds and thinking of the people buried there.

"The only reason I can think of is that their base is not too far away," Iraj finally suggested.

He paused. "I think we had better get off these back roads."

Pandora and Jess both nodded.

Before they left Jess found the remains of a small herb garden in some shade. There were four clay water-pots buried up to their necks each with a small stone to seal them. Around them was some oregano still clinging to life. Jess drew some water from the well and lifted each stone and carefully filled each pot.

"What are you doing?" Pandora asked.

"Being a bit silly I guess." Jess chuckled. "I am watering the garden. It seems the least I can do because I am going to take some of the oregano. These pots are unglazed and are buried next to the plants. The roots wrap themselves around the pots and form a seal so they only take the water as they need it. It's very efficient."

"Jacinta's father taught her all about the desert," Iraj remarked, admiring the micro watering system.

"I lived in the desert, Iraj." Jess frowned.

She didn't like him harping on about Jacinta.

She began to pluck some of the leaves and lay them out. "These are good for stews and can be used as a medicine."

"Medicine?" Pandora was surprised. "Teispes said you helped with the wounded at Khumin, do you know about herbs too?"

"Yes, I do. With oregano you can make tea for runny noses, poor appetite and women's problems."

"Jacinta's mother was an elf and taught her a lot about healing," Iraj added.

"Iraj!" Jess stood up to face him, planting her hands on her hips.

"Stop comparing me to Jacinta. A lot of assassins know about herbs, some fighters know about healing wounds, it's not so unusual.

"Someone returned after the raid and tended this garden," she added, changing the topic. "Oregano is good in a drought but it shouldn't still be alive. I wonder what happened to them. Maybe the slavers came back later."

* * *

Dilkor

"What do you think?" Iraj asked his two companions.

They were hiding on a hill, studying the desert fortress.

They could see at least one well outside the walls and people were at work making mud brick, irrigating young date palms and fruit trees and some wheat, with buckets.

Not far away was low lying land, the wide slash of green showing some of it was irrigated. A good number of camels and sheep were grazing down there.

There was a scatter of mud brick houses outside the fortress but most of the settlement was inside walls, which were maybe six metres high. It must have started life as a fortress-town.

"I doubt the slavers would attack such a fortress," Pandora said. "We could get news."

Jess sucked her lip and said nothing.

"There is another reason why slavers may not have troubled this fortress, Pandora," Iraj reminded her quietly.

"We will run out of feed for the horses soon," Pandora reminded them. "We are in danger of losing them."

Jess screwed up her face in a grimace.

"This is the only inhabited place we have found," Pandora added.

Yes, that's exactly what worries us.

"I'm tempted to go in alone," Jess said.

"That would be inviting an attack," Iraj said. "No, we will go in together."

Iraj was in charge of their security.

The decision had been made.

They hid most of their possessions in a shallow ravine and began their approach. They were still some distance away when one of the men supervising the workers looked up and went running inside. After a few moments a prosperous looking Persian rode out to meet them.

"Khosh amadid (welcome). My name is Bagabuxsha but foreigners call me 'Baga'. My shop can provide you with accommodation and any supplies you need. This is a troubled region, but you will feel very safe and comfortable in Dilkor, our fortress is very secure."

He reminded Pandora of Asho-paoirya from Chandyr.

"We are pleased to meet you, Baga, but unfortunately we won't be able to stay," Jess said with a pleasant smile. "My name is Jess. This is my servant Pandora and our guard Iraj. All we need is supplies for our journey at a reasonable price, especially feed for our animals and some flour."

"Could we get some tea, mistress?" Pandora asked Jess with a straight face.

Jess glared at her.

"That we certainly can do," Bagabuxsha said enthusiastically, rubbing his hands. "Women cannot carry weapons in our town. You will have to surrender them at the gate."

"It is normal where I come from," Jess said, giving him her sweetest smile. "My servant only carries a hunting bow. If you insist, we will ride on."

"No, no!" Bagabuxsha said. "That will not be necessary! Just unstring your bows and keep them in their gorytoi (holsters). You too, sir."

Iraj and Jess exchanged a glance. Iraj gave a faint nod but he looked unhappy. Bagabuxsha waited while they all unstrung their weapons.

"Where are you from?" he asked Jess.

"I come from the Kush, the place the Greeks call Aithiopia, are you familiar with it?"

"I'm afraid not."

That's what I was hoping for, because neither am I.

As he led them to the gate they passed several thin looking people labouring away.

"Your town has a lot of slaves."

"Yes, things have been very bad with the drought. Our slaves are luckier than most free men elsewhere. At least we can find work for them."

Their generous benefits may have included plenty of work but it didn't seem to include a lot of food. As she looked at them, Jess felt a chill. She thought most had come from nearby villages, others would be chance travellers. They had found the slavers.

She glanced back the way they had come. A dozen armed men on horses had appeared behind them, following casually behind, closing off their retreat.

Bagabuxsha ushered them through the town gate.

There were three bow-men in the gate-tower and two warriors attending to the gate. Another three men waited just inside. The gate was closed as soon as they and two of the following men entered.

"I insist you ladies refresh yourselves in our local shop as my guests, while my stable hands help your man attend to the animals," Bagabuxsha said with a cheerful smile.

"That would be delightful," Jess replied.

She didn't sound delighted.

"This is a trap," Pandora muttered in Greek.

"Yes, it is," Jess murmured, while giving Bagabuxsha an engaging smile. "Just act normally."

They left Iraj with the men. At the tavern door Bagabuxsha took Jess's long sword and both of their gorytoi before allowing them in. It was not unheard-of removing weapons before entering taverns but 'Baga' seemed to have a one-track mind as far as separating them from their weapons.

The only other person in the tavern was a small lady in one corner cradling a veena (like a sitar). She was dressed in a saffron saṛī trimmed with a thin edge of lace. She wasn't much bigger than a twelve-year-old with the lighter colour and finer features of a northern Indian.

As they entered, she began singing. Jess stood for a moment entranced by the pure tones of her voice and the lingering notes of the veena, sweet and melodious.

"She sings like a nightingale!" Pandora said in Sogdiane.

"Enchanting, isn't she?" Bagabuxsha motioned to a bench behind a table. There were several stools and tables scattered over the floor, business didn't seem to be too good; assuming of course that his real business was running a tavern.

"We are lucky to have her here. Why don't you relax and refresh yourselves while we organise this?"

"She is singing in one of the other Indo-Aryan dialects," Jess whispered in Greek. "I think it is Hindostanī."

"Do you know Hindostanī?"

"No, I don't, but I know an Aryan dialect that's a lot closer to hers than Sogdiane," Jess whispered back. "How do I know it? I have no idea."

Jess made sure Pandora was on the inside of the bench.

She took the outside.

The manager of the shop stalked in. He was a giant of a man, also a northern Indian. He leant one of the heaviest swords Jess had ever seen against the wall, within his easy reach. It was a two handed shamshīr (sabre: curved, single edged slashing sword). It would be terrifying to face but even in the hands of such a big man it would be too heavy. He would have to concentrate on circular slashing movements.

"More victims for you to drug?" the small singer asked him bitterly.

"Just keep them entertained. Don't forget you owe us money."

"I don't want to make money this way."

And neither of you expect me to understand what you are saying, do you?

Jess thought longingly about her bow and sword, which were at the entrance, but Bagabuxsha was in the way, his own sword sheathed.

He was not expecting trouble yet.

"I am going to make a move," Jess murmured, swivelling slightly in her seat. "When I do, get under the table and stay there, no matter what happens."

Without warning she lunged at Bagabuxsha, snatching at her belt knife. He wasn't a trained fighter and made the elementary mistake of trying for his sword when Jess was too close. He died with a gurgling shriek; his sword dropped in a clatter.

"Look out!" the Indian girl yelled.

Pandora screamed.

The big man had grabbed his shamshīr and was closing the distance with remarkable speed. He gave her no time to grab Bagabuxsha's sword. With a great yell, he gave a wide roundabout swing, hard enough to take her head from her shoulders.

Jess ducked underneath it and spun, grabbing a stool and throwing it, all in one motion.

It hit him hard in the chest but he showed no reaction, his chest and arm muscles bulging as he gave a downward swing strong enough almost to split her in two.

Jess dodged to the side; the sword struck the hard dirt flooring sending up a cloud of dust like a pick axe chopping at hard clay.

This man has no skill.

Jess's thigh muscles strained as she sprung back at him, before he could swing again. Her left hand grabbed his blade a third of the way down from the handle. He looked at her hand holding his blade in disbelief and gave it an experimental tug but the weight and leverage was against him.

"Didn't know I could do that, did you?" she asked; reaching across she sliced down hard on one of his hands with her knife.

He screamed with rage, dropping the sword and clutching his bleeding fingers. Then he made a mistake. He staggered back, protectively raising his hands to his chest. It gave Jess space to swap hands and grab the shamshīr one handed. She couldn't wield it.

She dropped the sword in disgust and stepped over it to stab him hard in the chest. He shrieked with rage and agony. There was no chance to retrieve her knife as he fell.

His weight drove the knife in. She had to heave to roll him over and then put her foot against his chest to work her knife out.

"Erk, what a mess."

Outside there was the sound of running feet.

"People coming!" Pandora called out loudly.

Jess leapt across the room to grab Bagabuxsha's sword, just as the door burst open.

Pandora didn't know much about swordplay, but she did know that one person didn't last long against multiple assailants and Jess was facing six of them.

The first man was dead before he realised it. The second man got a deep slash to the thigh for his troubles while Jess danced back a few paces.

The four remaining men shouted at one another as they got in each other's way. The one in front tried a low jerky thrust. Jess deflected it with her knife. Her wrists crossed as she sliced her sword across his throat.

She quickly sheathed her knife to pick up another stool, her eyes never leaving the three uninjured men. They were trying to come at her in a three-pointed pincer movement. The fourth man with the wounded thigh was hopping across to join them.

She kicked a stool in the way of the man on her right and swung the stool she was carrying overarm straight into the man in front of her. The man on her left came in for a thrust to her kidneys. She dodged forward, letting the momentum of her throw continue to spin her body around to chop at his sword arm. He screamed and dropped his sword.

Even Pandora could see that their enemies were not skilled and not used to coordinating in a mêlée. They were fighting in a jerky fashion, thrusting only and pausing with their blades held ready. Jess wielded her blade, smoothly, confidently, slashing and with the occasional thrust, quickly dodging back and forwards and using her foot and blade work to open up her opponents for a counterattack.

She ducked behind the man with the injured hand, grabbing at his shirt with one hand as she kneed him at the back of one knee and then rammed him forward. The man in front was forced to catch his friend in an awkward embrace;

Jess thrust hard through a gap in the tangle of limbs.

Then she ducked around both of them with the speed and ferocity of a tiger, swinging her blade hard at the neck of the man with the wounded thigh.

There were two men left alive, one unhurt. The one with the injured wrist had climbed off his dead friend and was holding his sword awkwardly with his left hand. Watching the other man, she moved in quickly and stabbed him in the chest. He flailed both hands ineffectually in front, as if trying to block with his hands.

That left one man alive and unwounded.

She smiled at him as she moved in like a wolf stalking its prey.

* * *

Iraj

We are in serious trouble, Iraj had thought it as soon as they had entered the front gate of the fortress.

He had turned to study the three men, Yoishta, Dratha and Frânya, with a terrible sinking feeling. They were to take him to the stables. It was the first time ever that Iraj had seen stable hands wearing leather armour and carrying cavalry swords for routine stable work.

The slavers were only using a fraction of the strength they must have, but the odds were still completely overwhelming. They were obviously used to doing this, and didn't expect too much trouble, not from one man and two women.

His mind was racing, searching for a way out, but they were trapped.

He decided not to start a fight near the gate where the numbers were even worse. So there was no choice but to allow Bagabuxsha to take the girls off somewhere. He would have to follow these men to the stables, while wondering what awaited him there.

It was only a short walk from the gate; the entrance was through a walled-in courtyard with a large barn making up one wall. As they entered the courtyard and closed the door, Yoishta broke into a friendly grin.

"It has been a hot morning, hasn't it, Iraj? Can I offer you a mug of beer before we start?"

"I'll attend to my animals first if that is all right with you." Iraj gave him a friendly grin.

What's in the beer?

"I would be more than happy to join you after that, thank you."

There was a veranda off the barn and a large water trough. He led the horses and then the camels over to drink. The three 'stable hands' watched him do all the work.

"Do you have any wheat-hay or oat-hay?" he asked.

Yoishta looked at Dratha, Dratha looked at Frânya.

"Most certainly!" Frânya said cheerfully, indicating several bales in the corner.

Iraj didn't move. "Ah, Frânya, you know that is wheat straw, cut and dried after the seeds are harvested."

I'm actually sure you don't know that. "And you know I want wheat hay, harvested green with the seed heads still attached and then dried. My animals haven't been eating well lately and that's what they need. I'm happy to pay for it."

Yoishta and Dratha looked puzzled. They obviously had never worked in the stables, nor had they ever attended to animals.

"I think I know where that is kept," Frânya offered and disappeared through the door to the outside.

As the door opened and closed, Iraj noticed several men were waiting outside.

Well, I'll be cursed if I am going to be taken without a fight.

He turned back to his horse and removed its saddle. The saddle was of Sakā design, two leather cushions with a pommel and cantle and leather fastenings: girth, a crupper and breastplate. Underneath was a felt saddle-cloth red and adorned with stylized horse motifs.

"Can you help me with this?" he called over his shoulder.

He lifted it off, saddle blanket and all, and turned around. As the two men came up behind him, he suddenly threw all of it at them as hard as he could.

He whipped out his short sword and stabbed one in the hollow above his breast bone, leaving the sword stuck in him. He fell on the other with his knife, his hand over the man's mouth to stop him crying out.

Snatching back his sword, he looked around to appraise his position, when he heard a man cry out in agony in the distance. There were shouts from outside the door and the sounds of running feet as the men outside took off to join the fight.

Iraj’s face splitting into a delighted grin. "Jess!"

She was not only alive but she was causing their enemies trouble.

Iraj ran to the door to help her, short sword in his hand just as Frânya came through in the other direction, almost bumping into him.

They froze for a moment, looking at each other. Frânya had a bale of hay on his shoulder and a look of confusion on his face. Not for long though; he threw the hay at him and drew his long sword.

Iraj had a short sword and no shield. He was facing a man in leather armour wielding a long sword. He turned and ran.

If Frânya hadn't stumbled over the hay, he wouldn't have made it. But by the time Frânya caught up with him, Iraj had whipped his saddle blanket off the ground and draped it over his left arm. Iraj was mainly an archer, but he was beginning to think he really should buy some body armour.

Frânya tried a clumsy thrust. Iraj spun to deflect it with his blanket and Frânya's sword became snagged on the blanket. With a small smile, Iraj threw the blanket over the man's sword arm and danced in to stab him hard in the chest.

Frânya died, bleeding all over the horse blanket. What a shame.

He liked Frânya, and it was his favourite horse blanket.

He quickly restrung his bow and grabbed two quivers.

Now, where have they taken Jess and Pandora?

In the distance another man screamed.

* * *

"Jess?" Iraj crept in, crouched low. His bow was strung and an arrow nocked.

And then he slowly stood. There were eight men dead in the modest tavern. Pandora was climbing out from under a table looking shocked and pale.

"Did Jess, er ...?"

"No," Pandora said, "she didn't change, but I've still never seen anything like it."

Jess was over in the corner squatting down by an Indian girl whose eyes were staring at her wildly. She tried to smile at her in a reassuring way. The effect was spoilt by all the other people's blood dripping from Jess's hair.

The girl slid across the floor trying to get away from her, shuddering violently.

"Hello," she tried. "My name is Jess, what's yours?"

The girl just stared at her.

"Can you tell us how to get out of here?" Jess persisted.

"Rohana, my name is Rohana, but they'll kill me if they think I helped you."

"They will think that anyway, Rohana," Jess said. "You had better come with us."

Rohana realised it was true. Bagabuxsha liked her singing. The cook and manager, Chiranjeevi was a cruel man but he at least had protected her.

She would be sent to work, and she couldn't work.

"I can't."

Jess reached out a bloody hand and gently lifted Rohana's hands to inspect them. The swollen fingers, the blue lips.

"You're dying, aren't you, Rohana?"

Rohana nodded.

"Come with us then, and die a free woman."

"I'll slow you down."

Jess smiled as she stood. "Then we had best make sure they don't follow."

"The eastern gate," Rohana said. "There are five guards. Most of the town is working on the irrigated land today, beyond the west gate. I would like to come with you but I can't."

"It's decided then." Jess smiled. "Iraj, take Pandora and Rohana to the horses, I will meet you there. Give me ten minutes, no more."

"They will be ready for you, Jess," Iraj warned.

"They won't be ready for me." She smiled as she lifted her gorytos. "You don't mind me doing this, Pandora?"

"I only wish I could help."

Jess's face burst into a happy grin. "You just did." And then she was gone.

"She isn't human, is she?" Rohana asked.

"What she is, is a very dear friend," Iraj replied. "She will look after you. I don't think she can lie about that sort of thing."

They took Rohana's meagre possessions in a small leather bag, a few saṛīs, blouses and underclothes, a hair brush and her veena in its own case. Iraj left the door to the courtyard open and had Pandora keep watch. He found another saddle blanket and quickly loaded the animals, while Pandora found a few bags of grain.

Then all he could do was pace.

It was taking too long.

His heart was pounding, reminding him of the time that was rushing by.

He felt like he was trying to hold his breath. Should he leave now? But how could they possibly get past the town gate without Jess?

Then from over at the gate house he heard shouting. A man screamed out.

He expected one of the town citizens to sound the alarm then but maybe they had learnt to keep in-doors and their heads down when something like this was happening.

There was a soft whistle and Jess's head appeared around the corner. She was leading a donkey laden with supplies. She had cleaned up her hair and face, though her clothes were still blood stained.

"Sorry it took longer than expected." She smiled. "There was more than Rohana thought. I found more supplies though. I left some sacks of grain near the fort's gate."

She lifted Rohana onto Iraj's spare horse and mounted behind her.

"I often faint if I overdo things," Rohana said.

"Don't worry," Jess said. "I have studied healing."

That got a laugh.

As they rode through the gate, there were dead bodies all around it. Jess was in front with Rohana, but she became breathless and dizzy so Jess had to slow the horse to a walk.

"I'm slowing you down."

"And I am not going to leave you. Don't worry, I don't think they will follow us."

"These ones won't," Rohana said softly to herself at the sight of all the dead bodies.

She had seen Jess kill people so very easily. She knew she wasn't fully human. And now she was riding on her horse. She was settled comfortably in the arms of a deadly killer.

"How did you get caught?" Jess asked her.

"I am easy to catch. I was born with a bad heart. I came looking for work as a singer two years ago. I have gotten sicker this last year."

"You have a hole in the heart. Too much pressure for too long has started to damage the vessels inside your lungs. That's what happens towards the end."

Rohana nodded her understanding. "They used me to distract travellers so they can catch them more easily. A lot of the others they have caught have died already. They only have less than two dozen now. Luckily I don't eat much."

Rohana felt a dull pain in the chest like a great weight pressing in. She struggled to breathe against the heavy weight. The world seemed to be darkening.

She woke to find they had stopped for the night. It wasn't even dark. A small camp fire was burning and Jess was making bread and trying to soften smoked horse-meat by boiling it and poking at it with her knife.

"Oh, you are awake," Pandora greeted her cheerfully.

"You don't seem to understand, I'm only going to slow you down." Rohana insisted.

Tears came to her eyes. "We didn't get far enough!"

"Don't worry." Jess seemed unconcerned. "I've got to go back in once it's dark anyway. I want to see if I can rescue the others."

"What?" Rohana asked. "Are you insane?"

"That's what we have been trying to ask her," Iraj said heavily. "And she won't even let me come."

"Iraj, someone has to look after Rohana and Pandora," Jess said. "Besides, I can sneak around better on my own."

Pandora gave her a sulky look.

"I'm sorry, love," Jess apologised. "It's like a hunger, driving me."

"Jess, you can't fight a whole village," Pandora said, looking upset.

"That would be difficult," Jess admitted. "But all I have to do is enter a heavily guarded fortress and rescue a couple of dozen people from inside its walls. And I will have a big advantage."

"What's that?"

"They won't be expecting me."

* * *

The twenty-four remaining men lay on the dirt floor of the stone warehouse that was their prison. Most were too far gone in hunger and exhaustion to talk or move. Their jailors kept a great torch in a sconce just outside the door. It gave the prisoners some light through a crack in the door and the small window above.

Frashaoshtra crept over to whisper to his brother, Geramig.

Two years ago Frashaoshtra and Geramig had been part of a small party of traders who had stopped for supplies. They were lulled by Rohana's singing and the food and drink had been drugged. Only Geramig and Frashaoshtra were still alive.

This had been a small garrison town. After the defeat of the Sâh (Shah), all order had collapsed.

Phraotes, the oldest of the Dah-bashi (commanders of ten), had murdered the commander and had found a way to profit from the chaos. He made slaves of anyone he could catch or any who opposed him.

But he didn't sell his slaves. All around were too many starving people with the drought so there was no market for slaves. Instead, he put them to work building, irrigating and looking after his stolen herds. At first the slaves were promised freedom if they worked hard enough. It did make most of them work harder. Even though they didn't really believe it, they had no other hope. Of course, none were ever freed.

By keeping them exhausted and not giving them enough food they became easy to manage and cheap to keep. They had bread in the morning and a bowl of thin soup at midday.

Refusing to work or being unable to resulted in a public hanging. Even a simple illness would be a death sentence. A great deal of them did die and at first it didn't matter. Slaves were of little value and there were lots of undefended villages nearby.

For a while they had made many of the town's petty criminals their guards and armed them with cudgels. With few exceptions they were the cruellest of all jailors with arbitrary punishments, beating the slaves for fun, throwing their food on the ground and molesting any of the women.

Geramig was determined one day he would escape, but for that he had to survive. He forced Frashaoshtra and any who wished to follow him to save some bread for later in the day despite their hunger. That way they weren't too weak to work in the afternoon.

He taught them to weave little cages for rats and feed them scraps, sneak milk from the herd animals, steal grain, plant a few seeds and water them in secret, make loop snares for catching lizards and to bait small traps with scraps. They ate anything they could get: plant roots, lizards, rats and even insects.

They caused no trouble. They avoided looking at the guards to cause offense. They obeyed immediately and spoke politely. They especially made sure they were favourites of any of the townsfolk or guards who helped the slaves in small ways.

After a while the supply of slaves slowed.

And then it stopped.

There used to be a lot of slaves, but they kept dying, especially the women, unless they could get one of the guards to protect them. Finally the slaves got better treatment. Sometimes there was meat in their soup, especially if someone died.

After a while the local criminals were forced to join them. The two most sadistic ones were found dead the next day.

And there was meat in the soup.

There was only a couple dozen slaves left now. There were still a few of the villagers that had kept their heads down but they had begun working them harder, soon they would enslave them too.

The prisoners had long lost any hope of escape, but survival had become a habit.

"Why do you think they made us stop early?" Frashaoshtra asked.

"The guards said the town was raided. They took that Hindu (Indian) bitch."

"She was a prisoner too," Frashaoshtra reminded him.

Geramig only grunted with disgust. As far as he was concerned, it was she that helped catch them.

"Why would they take her, though? She's sick," Frashaoshtra asked.

Outside there was a muffled cry. Geramig's head jerked up. He motioned for all the other men to keep quiet. For many moments there was nothing. Then there was a loud thump as if the door had been kicked.

Again silence.

A man's voice outside called out the name of a guard. Then there was a choking, wet cough and something landing in the soft dirt.

Frashaoshtra saw the look on his brother's face.

"Forget it. No one is coming for us."

There was a noise like a large animal sniffing around the door. The light started to dance. Someone had removed it from its sconce. Then it moved lower and went out.

They heard the familiar sound of a bolt sliding. The door opened cautiously, a dark figure appeared in the doorway, well back in the shadows. A voice came out of the darkness.

"Can all of you walk?"

"You're a woman!" Geramig said in shocked realisation.

"Last time I checked. My name is Jess. Are you in charge? I have six swords and six knives."

She entered then, dragging a bundle wrapped in one of the guards' coats. She dumped it with a metallic clutter. "I have two camels, two horses and a donkey waiting just outside the town, but we will need supplies."

"We can't fight or run carrying sacks of grain," Frashaoshtra said.

"I only have time to talk to one of you, choose who it will be. But all I really want to know is if you want to come with me or not. The guards, I can take care of."

"Talk to me, I'm Geramig, and yes, we are all coming. How many of you are there?"

"Just me, but I have others waiting outside."

"Just you? Are you mad?"

"I think so. Let's get those supplies. Not too much water, I can find that. Leave the guards to me. Oh, and watch your step."

There was a dead guard, naked, near the doorway. Jess was wearing his clothes and carrying his weapons. There were several scattered humps in the darkness.

"What are you?" Geramig whispered in fear.

"What I am is an assassin, the best I know of," Jess said, a little out of breath. "These people annoyed me, so I came back."

"Lucky for us," Geramig said softly. "Unlucky for them; there can't be many who can do what you have done."

"I don't know of anyone else."

The store room door wasn't locked; that meant a patrolling guard. Jess gave Geramig a meaningful nod and, while they filed in to get supplies, she disappeared into the darkness.

"She's not human," Frashaoshtra warned him.

"I don't care," Geramig replied. "I would follow a demon from hell if it would get me out of this place."

As they came out bearing sacks of grain, she reappeared. She didn't seem concerned, and she wasn't out of breath any more.

"I'll meet you at the east gate."

"They normally have eight people guarding it, two awake."

"Let's hope I only have to kill two of them then." She grinned. "They are not well trained you know."

"They will come after us," Geramig said. "They will want their slaves back."

"How many?"

"Fifty-eight guards and some villagers will help them."

"It's less than that now, but it's still more than I had hoped."

* * *

Arxa, Phraotes's second in command, stood on the battlements of the fortress the next morning. He was deep in thought as he surveyed the surrounding land.

The Kyzyl Kum (Red Sands) Desert was one of the driest places in the known world. He couldn't remember when they last had rain. Apart from what they had irrigated, everywhere he looked was rocks, yellow and red clay and sand with sparse salt bush scattered about with some rank grasses.

Thousands of years ago, the people of this land had first built the great canals; some ran hundreds of miles. But Dilkor was too high for the canals. So, for Dilkor, they had brought water from the nearby mountains. It allowed them to irrigate some of their lowlands, but the lowlands had too much salty land. It wasn't enough for the town.

With the drought there were fewer merchants and nomads and some of the oases had run dry. Dilkor had lost its reason for being; it had become a forgotten outpost in the bad-lands. Only the worst of soldiers were ever sent here.

After the death of their Sâh, the supplies stopped and Dilkor should have died too. Phraotes had seized control and somehow, he made it work.

Instead of killing anyone who opposed him, he came up with a brilliant solution: work them to death. He had fought the drought and the desert. He made his captives water good land higher up using hand buckets and watering cans. Now his men had enough, they even a good life, but they needed their slaves.

Uvaxshtra, one of his Dah-bashi (corporals), approached Arxa who groaned inwardly. .He was a good corporal but ponderous in his speech and often repeated himself or said things everyone knew while getting to a point.

"As you know, Ser, Bagabuxsha brought three travellers inside the fortress, a man and two women. It was the usual plan: split them up, separate them from their weapons, drug them and capture them. No risk to us and no damage to them."

Arxa nodded, waiting for him to get to the point.

"Instead, they killed Bagabuxsha and Chiranjeevi and fifteen of our men." Uvaxshtra continued, summarising what they already knew. " Then they simply rode out of the gate, taking that Hindu singer with them."

"Why would they take the girl with them?"

"I don't know, Ser. Their leader was a black woman, as tall as a man. Then last night we got raided. We lost all our slaves and another eight of our men were killed in silence. I don't even know anyone who can do that sort of thing."

"There are rumours of an attack near Chandyr. A sorcerer was killed and a group of shepherds who were attacking women. Do you think this is connected to what happened here?" Arxa asked.

"No, Ser, I think this is a group of mercenaries, cursed good ones. They must be using women warriors. Those three were scouts. They must have opened the gates, somehow let others in and caught our men by surprise. I think there must be at least a dozen in all. All we have found is the tracks of two horses. Maybe they split up. The smaller group isn't even covering their tracks."

"Take four men and chase those down while I keep looking for the main party. If we don't find our old slaves, we had better not give Phraotes any reason to choose us instead."

* * *

Uvaxshtra's party, counting Uvaxshtra, had two mounted bowmen and three lancers. But none of them were the crack troops the Sakā were famous for.

Several miles on they passed a deep ravine. They were too focused on the tracks they were following to see a dark figure step out just behind them.

Jess had six arrows in her bow hand, and one already nocked on her bow-string. Only the finest archers could use the rapid-fire technique. If you had asked Jess where she had learnt it, she couldn't have told you.

She only knew that at this range she wouldn't miss.

* * *

As the morning wore on, Arxa and his men were no closer to tracking down their escaped slaves. They had found a bloody hand print on the wall outside the slave's quarters as if made by a human. There were the tracks of a large animal outside the fortress wall. At least two of the guards seemed to have had their throats ripped out by a large animal. One of the villagers had thought she saw a dark shape running low down, through the shadows.

Arxa wasn't about to tell his men that what they were facing may not be human.

Uvaxshtra hadn't returned. He wondered if he should have sent out a larger party, but it was only the tracks of two horses.

But who was riding those horses?

* * *

It was mid-morning when Jess returned with Geramig and Frashaoshtra from the trap they had set and the three of them joined Raj to look out over the fortress.

Their main party, including Pandora, was hidden in caves. The ambush this morning was to discourage the slavers from sending out small parties. It would make it harder for them to mount a wide search. The next step was going to be more difficult.

"When we leave here most of us will be on foot and they will know roughly the path we will have to take," Jess said. "To stop them moving against us in force, we need to do more damage to them."

"Just what I was thinking," Iraj agreed. "Unfortunately, it looks like they are expecting something just like that."

At the fortress, men were inserting unlit torches into sconces in the walls, and gathering piles of brush for camp fires outside the walls. They had armed the remaining villagers with spears and had them patrolling the walls.

"They mustn't know how few we really are," Frashaoshtra murmured. "We won't be able to sneak around so easily with all that light."

"We?" Jess raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. We are coming."

"Tell them, Iraj," Jess whispered.

"Jess, I have no idea what you mean." Iraj tried to look innocent. "Oh, and I'm coming too."

Jess wanted to snarl at him.

"You need us anyway." Geramig smiled at her. "We can show you where to find Phraotes. If you can kill him their organisation will collapse. And we can show you the fort's weakness."

Jess turned slowly to him.

The fort's weakness?

"Yes, it's simple, really," Geramig explained. "If you can find a good enough well or underground spring inside a mountain you can run a channel under the ground so that when you reach the lowlands the water comes out above the normal height of the ground water which is deep here and brackish. It feeds your wells and allows you to irrigate."

"That's interesting," Iraj said blandly. So what?

Jess screwed up her face, thinking. "It's just like running an aqueduct to a city from higher up a river before the river drops. That gives you water pressure for irrigation and for your city, even fountains. In this case it is all underground."

Iraj looked at her quizzically.

What was this leading up to?

"It is very hot here in summer," Geramig added. "The wind blows a lot of dust and sand."

"So keeping the channel under the ground as much as possible is better." Jess paused. "And you're going to tell me they have done this for Dilkor."

Geramig grinned at her and pointed to the low mountain range in the near distance.

"Ah, I see," Iraj burst out into a wide grin. "There is a water channel leading from an underground spring somewhere under those mountains straight into the fortress, all underground."

"The main channel is used to irrigate the lowlands," Geramig explained. "They have a side channel to the town, yes, but the town is higher than the lowlands so the channel feeds a series of underground wells instead.

"The channel has ventilation shafts at regular intervals so that workers can climb down and clean it and repair it, which is why I know about it. They only let their most trusted slaves or villagers do that, but one day a slave tried to escape along the water channel. The guards simply rode horses to the next shaft and killed him as he emerged."

"And," Jess said very slowly, "you will tell me that no one has thought to put a heavy grill set in rock across the channel near where it enters the town."

"Yes, they have thought of that," Geramig admitted. "But I am told it is made of iron and it is old and rusty."

"You thought about using it to escape," Jess realised.

"Yes, but I was never given the chance. It would be fitting if we could use it to break back in."

When Geramig and Frashaoshtra showed them the ventilation shafts for the underground water channel it looked for all the world like a row of mine shafts, all in a line across the floor of the desert, leading towards the town. The dirt from each shaft had been heaped around the mouth, causing a shallow dimple with the access hole in the centre.

"How deep are they?" Iraj asked as Jess and he bent to examine one.

Jess peered down. "Not deep here, twelve feet at the most; it will be less on the plain. With all the water I won't be able to take my bow." She looked unhappy. "If all I can use is bladed weapons, I will need your help after all."

"You're not going to ..." Iraj asked.

"No, I'm not, Iraj. Have you forgotten you have invited an audience to this little show of yours tonight?" She sighed. "How many are coming?"

"All of the former slaves would, but there are only ten that I would judge fit enough. Of those, Geramig and Frashaoshtra are good with a sword and two others are experienced with thrusting spears. We have four that can use slings. You can't deny their right."

"Slings? At night? This will be just great." Jess spat down the shaft. "You and me and ten half-starved men; none have fought together before this. Barely half have any training and all of those are out of practice. The rest are inexperienced and poorly disciplined. Not to mention we will be outnumbered by fully fit troops by more than three to one. Have you got any good news?"

"Yes, I have. It won't be your problem. They have elected me to lead them. Geramig will be second in charge."

He made sure the ventilation shaft and his horse were between himself and Jess. He tried to dodge as Jess ran at him and grabbed him by the shirt front. "Now, Jess! It's nothing about you being a woman. They are scared of you."

What? How dare they be?

She realised she had Iraj by his shirt. She loosened her grip and patted it back into shape.

"And they think you are not human."

* * *

"This may take a while," Geramig observed to Jess.

Crawling on your hands and knees through a narrow tunnel half way across the plain and then cold chiselling through an iron grate, trying not to make too much noise?

Yes, it just might.

"Oh well, we may as well start." Iraj sighed. "Jess, can you go ahead and open the grill? We will join you just before dark, so we don't have to use torches in the channel, but we won't attack before middle watch."

Jess was tempted to make a suggestion to their great leader that was anatomically impossible. Instead, she managed a "Yes, ser!"

Anything you say, ser!

Her sarcasm would be wasted on the other men waiting.

Once she had calmed down, she had realised she wouldn't be a good leader. She tended to want to go off and do things all by herself rather than co-ordinate the activities of a group. But it didn't stop her from feeling annoyed.

She crawled closer to the fortress before disappearing down one of the ventilation shafts. Because of the water she wore a short shift, without underwear which would just get wet. Thankfully no one was following close behind. Her sword was strapped over her shoulder in an improvised baldric.

I really should get some body armour.

She had a hammer and cold chisel tucked into her belt, rags to try to muffle any chiselling as well as a packet of food to snack on while she waited. The floor of the water channel was lined with stones but the roof and sides were packed earth. It was rough, irregular and narrow, no more than a crawl space. The dark between ventilation shafts was not a problem for her and she was not in the mood to be worried about the others who would be following at dusk.

Setting out on all fours, it didn't take much time for her clothes to be soaked with ice cold underground water, her food packet and rags to be soggy and her knees to be bleeding and stinging from the stones. Here and there some lucky tree roots had dug down to find water just so they could trip her, bark her shins or bump her head.

She was getting thoroughly fed up with catching the hilt of her sword on the roof. She took it off her back and pushed it in front of her, trying unsuccessfully to keep the expensive scabbard dry.

The grill, when she finally reached it after an endless crawl was a series of iron bars hammered and jammed into a patch of heavy underground rock. Leading up to it was a wide section with a higher roof and a deeper floor to allow a black smith to set up an underground forge.

At least she could stand up into a half crouch and stretch and rub some of the gravel out of the cuts on her knees and elbows.

The iron was heavily rusted and was flaking apart. They should have used bronze. To repair it properly now they would have had to block the channel and drain the area. Dilkor must have had some sort of importance at one time, but no one was going to do that now.

Jess bent over close to the rusting barrier and smiled at it.

"Forgotten about you, haven't they?"

* * *

Phraotes jerked awake.

He couldn't have been asleep all that long. It must be the middle watch. It would not be the first time he had missed sleep to check on the sentries. He eased himself out of bed and put on his slippers. Firuza murmured in her sleep.

He smiled. Since he had taken over Dilkor, he had been a better soldier than he had ever dreamed possible. And he made an excellent commander: the village was prosperous and his men well looked after.

Before going out to check on the sentries, he buckled on his single edged kopis (machete). A kopis was really half a weapon and half of a farmer's slashing tool, hardly an officer's weapon but it was what he was used to, and he always felt comforted by its familiar weight.

He stepped outside and waited a minute, looking around.

Arxa had suggested that they were facing something supernatural. Phraotes wasn't sure he even believed in daēvas. The best protection against them was said to be prayer.

Somehow he didn't think that would work for him.

Heroes like Rostam, Tahmûrath or Jamsêd bested them with wrestling or trickery. After that it was said that they became faithful servants. Now that would be handy, having a daēva as a servant. Most were supposed to stand nine feet tall on clawed feet with horns and a tail. They would be a bit hard to wrestle but handy as a servant.

There was no moon. Several of the torches had burnt down, leaving patches of darkness.

A night time breeze caused the lights and shadows to dance.

Did he hear a noise? Had something woken him? He glanced behind. The breeze rustled some dust and dead leaves. A cloth curtain sighed as it drifted against a window sill.

He saw a sentry patrolling further along the street and made to walk that way, trying to resist the urge to hurry towards the safety of some company.

The town seemed otherwise deserted.

That was strange. He had put extra guards on. He glanced behind again, straining his eyes to see in the shadows. In the distance a man's voice was raised in query.

He turned back to call out a friendly 'salaam' to the soldier. The man didn't reply, just stopped and turned towards him. "Who are you?" he called out, moving closer, putting his hand on the hilt of his kopis. The man just stared at him.

Or behind him.

A powerful arm grabbed his chin from behind him and tilted it up. He felt a sharp pain as a knife sliced into his throat.

* * *

It was morning and Geramig found Jess pouring Rohana some herbal tea.

"You do this as well?" Geramig laughed. "I heard you bandaged and stitched some of my men."

"I see nothing funny about that," Jess said.

While Rohana sipped her tea, Jess poured oil on her hands and squatted to massage the fluid from her legs, ignoring Geramig.

"Yes, well er, you know what I mean." Geramig blushed. "We honestly have never seen the like of you. I was there when you killed Phraotes. You are very fast."

"If you want to kill someone, you don't want to move slowly."

"I would have liked him to suffer a bit longer."

"It's not a game, Geramig."

"I have offended you. At least you are not a daēva."

Jess just shrugged. Geramig looked a little taken aback.

"Well, I heard you're planning to leave tomorrow. I think that is for the best."

"I'm taking my choice of two of the five horses from the men I ambushed," Jess said, glancing his way. "That will give us a horse each, plus my two camels. Keep the donkey. And I want a heavy bow for my friend Pandora. She can use that now. We need supplies, and Iraj and I deserve a share of any money you found."

Geramig hesitated. "I suppose that's fair."

He didn't sound happy.

"Be careful on the road, Arxa took off this morning with a dozen men. The rest of the soldiers left the gates open and threw down their weapons. People are asking me to stay and take over."

Jess looked up. "Are you even considering that?"

"I spent most of the time dreaming of escaping this place." Geramig took a deep breath. "But it's hard not to think we own some of what we have worked so hard for. This town is prosperous, it will require hard work but I don't know that we can find better. Not the way things are at the moment.

"I will ask the worst to leave but anyone half decent can stay. We will try to forget the past and start anew."

"Good luck to you then," Jess said politely. "Don't forget to repair the grill."

As Geramig walked away, Rohana bent over to study Jess's expression.

"If he said 'thank you' I must have missed it. Do you want me to stay here too?"

"Don't worry about him," Jess shrugged. "No one wants my type around, except when they need me of course, then it's different.

"Do I want you to stay? For my part, no, travelling may bring your death closer, but if you do come, I can look after you. I promise you will die amongst friends."

"I would like to come." Tears came to Rohana's eyes. "I like travelling. If I'm to die, I'd rather die travelling. There is absolutely nothing for me here. I just don't want to be a burden."

"You will be a burden, but it is one that we will gladly bear." She stood and wiped a tear from Rohana's cheek. "You're coming with us. I want no more of your arguments."

She pulled a face and they both laughed.

* * *

"Geramig was here this morning," Rohana was telling Iraj, when they were alone. "He virtually told her to leave. She didn't say anything, but I could tell it hurt her. I'd rather deal with Jess any day than with Geramig."

"You are a shrewd judge of character, then." Iraj smiled at her. It made her feel flushed. She couldn’t help but notice that he was a very good-looking man and was standing close to her.

"I can't run and I can't fight back, so I had to be good at reading people and trying to make them happy." Rohana looked into the distance. "It started with my mother. She was not an easy woman. My father and I were close. It was him that was the musician. When he died, I got free transport on caravans by being an entertainer."

"That was a brave thing to do, with your heart and all."

"All I can do is watch people doing things that I can't, that and play my music." She giggled. "So I like travelling, seeing new things. Jess says she wants to take me, but what about you, you and Pandora? It is asking a lot of you. "

"You're not so big. I think we can handle you without you causing us too much trouble."

He gave her that smile again that made her feel weak all over.

She looked at the handsome Avestan, his broad shoulders and muscular chest, his dark curly hair and beard, and his ready smile, his deep, gentle voice. She felt a terrible sense of loss for something that she could never have.

"She's sad, isn't she? Jess, she is very sad underneath."

"Yes,", Iraj replied, "yes, she is."

* * *

Before they left, Frashaoshtra came to see Jess, who was massaging Rohana's arms and shoulders again.

"I've found someone who will sell you opion (opium). How much do you need?"

Jess gave a shaky sigh of relief. "About as much as I can get, I think."

"Then I will take you to her," Frashaoshtra said. "Jess, I want to thank you for what you have done for us. I am not ready to leave or I would have taken it as a privilege if I could travel with you, if you would have me of course. Geramig can be a hard man but he has kept us alive."

"Why do you need so much opion?" Rohana asked.

Jess wouldn't look at her for a moment. "Er, towards the end you will get breathless, fighting for every breath."

"I am very much afraid of that time," Rohana said quietly. "I didn't want to tell you. I didn't want to be a burden. It's just that it's hard to be brave sometimes."

"Opion will ease the fluid in your lungs. More importantly it will calm you and stop your body fighting so hard towards the very end. Unfortunately, that means—"

"I know what it would mean if my body stopped fighting so hard to breathe," Rohana said quickly. Tears came to her eyes. "Thank you, Jess."

"I just didn't want you to think ... er, you know, if you found out about the opion. I didn't want you to think ... that I was trying to, well, I would never do anything like that without telling you." Jess couldn't seem to find anywhere to look.

"I would never think that of you, Jess," Rohana said softly.

"Well, er, thank you, Rohana." Jess's voice was hoarse and her vision blurred with her own tears. "Oh, and thank you, Frashaoshtra. Sorry to be so emotional. It just means a lot to me is all."

* * *

By their second day travelling Jess was alarmed that Rohana seemed so sleepy.

They were taking it slow. Jess had insisted Rohana ride with her, in her arms. Jess felt her heart burning for the young woman, as she carried her in front, wishing she could breathe for her.

She didn't want to worry anyone else, but the girl could hardly stay awake. It wasn't fainting at least, it was sleepiness, and she did seem to sleep comfortably and wake in good condition.

Maybe it wasn't too surprising. Rohana didn't just have a bad heart and fluid; she was also badly out of condition for any form of exercise. If it wasn't for the sleepiness and being plagued by constant chest pains, the small Hindu woman might be seen to be coping better than Jess had ever expected.

By the fourth day it was obvious to everyone that Rohana was better. Her colour no longer had the dusky tinge of blue and she seemed less breathless. Perhaps it was being out of doors. Perhaps it was being amongst friends. Maybe it was Jess's obsession with doing anything and everything to help her. Jess didn't expect it to last. But it gave them a little more time and for that she was grateful.

Rohana even managed to sing a third song for them when they stopped for the evening. Her three new friends sat around the cooking fire and listened in awe.

"I've just never heard anyone with a voice like yours," Pandora said. "And you play like a Hindu Goddess. I can't sing anything like you, but can I sing along sometimes?"

"Of course, you can, and if you teach me songs of your home, I will sing them, too."

"My home?" Pandora's eyes sparkled in the firelight. "You would sing Greek songs? How about you, Jess? ... Oh, I'm sorry."

"You may as well know, Rohana. Something happened to my memory. I don't remember my home and I remember very little of my past. Maybe I'll say more about it later. It's a long story." Jess managed a smile. "Or maybe I should say it is a rather short one. And I think most people would pay me not to sing."

"Can you dance? The way you move."

"Dance? Yes, I can dance very well, at least I think I can."

Jess, what has happened to you? Rohana wondered.

"Jess, I am feeling much better, is it the tea you are giving me? Have you used it much before?"

"Rohana, many things I just know, but where I learnt them, who knows? I don't think I have any real experience looking after someone like you. It's all theory and not much of that. As far as the tea is concerned, it will help but I don't think it is supposed to be this potent."

"Jess, you killed eight men within only moments of when I first saw you."

"It was fourteen, er fifteen," Jess said. "Some you didn't see and then there were more that evening. Rohana, I'm not proud of what I am but I would never hurt you or force you."

"Jess, I know that's true." Rohana laughed, "I have met a lot of people who have frightened me, but nothing like you when I first met you. Now I know you would never hurt me. I know you have secrets some of which you may not want to share, but is there anything I need to know about you, right now?"

Jess went very quiet.

"I think Jess likes you," Pandora suggested.

"That's nice, I like her very much."

"No, I mean I think Jess likes you."

"Well, I do," Jess muttered, refusing to meet Rohana's gaze. "But not like you, Pandora."

"Oh!" Rohana's hands flew to her mouth. "I must say that wasn't what I expected you to say."

"I would never push," Jess said. "You are very pretty and your singing is like that of an angel. It makes my heart feel like it's soaring when I hear it. I think we all feel that."

"You and Jess?" Rohana asked, looking at Pandora.

Pandora and Jess looked at each other and then back and nodded in unison.

"How does Iraj fit in?"

"Iraj is a wonderful man!" Jess said. "He fits right in!"

"Jess? ... Are you a threesome? Is it that what you want me to join?"

"Why of course we are, and we love the idea of you joining us."

"Jess, I simply can't do that sort of thing," Rohana was horrified. "Anyway, I am not well enough."

"Rohana," Pandora said softly. "I don't think Jess knows what a threesome is, let alone a foursome."

"Why of course I do!"

Then Jess paused and looked puzzled. The three of them were grinning back at her.

"What's a foursome?"

Pandora pointed to each of them slowly and deliberately.

"Iraj and three women?" Jess asked in shock. "What, at the same time?"

No, no, no, I couldn't do that!

Iraj was looking smug. Jess screwed up her face and poked her tongue out at him. Pandora had a faraway look on her face and a faint smile.

 

 

Chapter 13: Amul, and the Dancer

 

Jess couldn't believe it when Rohana asked to ride one of the horses, at least for a short while. She had only been led or travelled as a passenger before.

She laughed at Jess's concerns. "Jess, I'm going to die. There are so many things I can't do. I may as well have some fun in the meantime. Thank you for caring for me, really, but I don't want to be wrapped in your lamb's wool."

She was right. She may as well die happy.

Iraj and Jess hopped down and moved their packs around and fixed the saddle and then Iraj took Rohana for a riding lesson.

Just how hard can it be to let go, and not feel anxious? Jess asked herself. So far the exercise seemed to be doing Rohana good. They were walking the horses so it would not be too strenuous, not much more than riding with Jess if they took it slow enough. Still, she watched from a distance, gripping the reins of her horse hard, frowning and chewing on her lip.

She had felt called to take Rohana with her, just like she felt called to journey to the Troad, just like she had to free Pandora and just like rescuing the slaves from Dilkor. It didn't seem strange to Jess to go with her feelings.

Pandora moved closer and they stretched out to take each other's hand while they watched Rohana laughing and Iraj teasing her. No matter how this girl died, Jess realised it was going to hurt.

It was going to hurt them a lot.

* * *

Rohana took a deep breath and laughed again.

"We should get a pony," Iraj teased. "Something for a twelve-year-old."

"Iraj, there are plenty of small women!" Rohana laughed. "I'm sure you'll find I am more woman than you can handle."

She hadn't laughed like this in a long while.

She hadn't felt so free and she had three wonderful friends around her, especially this handsome muscular Avestan man. She ignored her chest pain. She hoped that this was what took her in the end, her heart going suddenly like a ruptured muscle, not slowly, drowning in fluid, fighting for every breath.

She also ignored the terrible feeling of tiredness and Iraj and Jess's demands that she should rest. She was going to die; she would get plenty of rest then!

She wondered what it would be like to be carried by Iraj, rather than Jess. It would be so nice if she could lie back in his strong arms and to have his deep voice murmuring. But as a real woman, not as an invalid or someone close to the size of a girl.

Eventually she couldn't keep awake any longer and she was passed back to Jess, almost unconscious.

"I want to ride again!" she said almost as soon as she woke.

Jess pulled her around to face her. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, but I would like to eat first."

She had woken in Jess's arms feeling happy and full of restless energy ... and she was hungry.

Jess called a halt to feed her some dry figs and goat's cheese and left-over stale bread soaked in wine and water. Then Rohana mounted and urged her horse up front so she could ride with Iraj again.

* * *

It was late on the morning of the sixth day when the travellers topped a rise to get their first glimpse of that paradise springing out of the desert called the Oxos River Valley.

Where they were, it was a good 15 kilometres wide. In the near distance was a field of golden wheat with a small army of people at work, scything and standing bundles of stalks upright for further ripening and transport to the threshing floor.

"I know where we are now," Iraj said. "And when, it can't be much more than a moon till the Galla Bayramy (harvest festival)."

"You harvest your wheat in summer?" Jess asked.

"Yes, we do," Iraj said. "It is all irrigated so we don't have to plant around seasonal rain like they do in Anatolē. The river comes from the melting snow and ice in the mountains. Its maximum flow is spring and early summer and the grain grows best in the heat of summer.

"During the harvest time, like now, almost everything grinds to a stop. Shops shut and government buildings close down. Everyone has a relative or friend they want to help, or they have a small plot of land or they want some extra money.

"But it is hard work in the heat for not much money." He laughed. "I was born only a few days' ride from here and I tried it over a couple of summers."

As they approached, they could see the great river in the middle of the wide valley.

"It's huge!" Jess gasped.

"The river is still in flood. This is one of the narrow stretches but it is still twelve stadia (almost a mile and a half) wide," Iraj told her. "The river's maximum breadth is a parasang (a league, three and a half miles) with many islands in the middle which get flooded. You can't wade across in the flood and it's too far to swim the animals, so we will have to cross by barge."

Iraj lived not far from here and Pandora and Rohana had both seen the great river before, Pandora as a slave, but they all sat on their horses and drank in the incredible sight.

Jess could see wide sections of swamp-land and reeds on either side of the swollen river. There was a lot of willow and poplar in a forest, and further back from the river was oak and elm. She could see the glint of water between the trees.

The forest must rely on seasonal flooding and ground water rather than rain and the whole valley would be nurtured by rich silt washed down from the mountains. Everything here depended on the river.

"It's very muddy," Jess added thoughtfully.

"Up in the mountains its flow is very swift," Iraj told her.

He pointed to where the road led east, parallel to the river.

"We have to follow that road to the main crossing."

"Let's go then." Rohana kicked her horse up to a trot.

"Rohana!" Jess shrieked.

"Jess!" Iraj shouted a warning, "Don't try to catch her, you'll spook her horse."

"Slow down, Rohana!" Jess called out, her hands in her mouth.

"I'm going to beat you all!" Rohana was laughing like a crazy woman as she trotted her horse down the slope to be the first to reach the valley floor.

* * *

On the northern bank there was an outdoor market and a shouting aggressive crowd of ferrymen. Jess felt more than a little overwhelmed. She was happy to hang back with Rohana and let Iraj and Pandora go to battle over the cost of getting them across the river.

Iraj had done this dozens of times and Pandora absolutely loved bargaining.

Once they were across the river, Jess and Rohana waited with the camels near the docks while Iraj and Pandora entered the city with their four horses. The three women would stay at Amul while Iraj visited his family to bring them the terrible news of his sister's death.

Amul had been an important town on the western bank of the Oxus and might be again. It hadn't been fully restored after an earthquake, and it had been overtaken by the more energetic township of Parap upstream and across the river. So Amul was better than Parap for somewhere that the young women could lay low.

Back across the river was the road leading to Buxarak (Bukhara) the city where Jess had first met Pandora. On either side of the great river, parallel to each bank, were the river roads. Khiva, the capital of what had been Xvairizem, lay down-river (north and a little west) at the start of the vast marshes of the Oxos delta.

Jess was thinking of the journey ahead. They had originally planned to go north on the Oxos by boat. Now they would be taking the overland trip west to Margu (Merv), the great oasis city, which was still in the hands of the Persis.

Jess and Rohana waited on a couple of boxes in the shade, idly watching the boats plying up and down and back and forwards. Close up the Oxos looked even muddier than from a distance. Jess was engaged in cutting up a watermelon, using her knife in her left hand, and there was a small pile of melons waiting at her feet.

"Jess!" Rohana laughed. "You don't have to pamper me. You are like a mother hen with one chick. I love you for it, but is this part of my treatment?"

"No." Jess looked a bit embarrassed to be caught fussing. "I'm sorry."

Then she giggled at the description of her as a mother hen. "It's just that you must try these melons. This region is famous for its melons ... and carpets."

"Maybe I can eat one of their carpets too. I don't know why I am so hungry all the time."

"Your colour is better, there's no fluid around your ankles, and you are breathing better. At first I could feel a thrust over the left side of your chest below your breast and then a vibration which got louder and louder until it stopped."

"And I thought you were interested in my chest for other reasons."

"No, no!" Jess surged up. "Rohana, I would never ever do that! Please believe me!" Her eyes grew moist.

"Jess, dear Jess. I'm only teasing."

"Oh ..." Jess sat down, a little uncertainly. "I'm not good at picking when I am being teased."

"That's what makes you so much fun to tease." Tears came to Rohana's eyes. "Jess, in such a short time you and Pandora have become such dear friends to me."

"And Iraj?" Jess smirked.

Rohana actually blushed. "Er, like you have said, he is a lovely man."

Jess turned serious. "Rohana, Iraj isn't spoken for and he likes you."

"I think he is just being kind," Rohana said, blushing again. "Sometimes it seems more, but I am going to die. I wouldn't want to do that to him."

"What I'm saying is I think the hole in your heart might be closing. That's why the noise got louder like a whistle, then stopped as it closed. That can happen with children as they grow but I don't even know if it could happen in an adult."

"You seem to know so much. Who taught you?"

"I don't know. It's so frustrating to have no personal memories. If you ask Iraj, he'll start telling you about a dead Gypsy girl."

Rohana looked at her enquiringly.

"It's his pet theory about me, I'm sure he will tell you about it soon enough, but the point I'm making is you seem to be getting better." Jess sighed. "But I don't understand it, so I don't want to give you false hope."

"Hope?" Rohana sounded uncharacteristically bitter. "It's been a long time since I had any hope, Jess."

They were silent for a while.

"Jess, why do you cut fruit with your left hand?" Rohana asked. "You seem right-handed."

Jess looked at the knife in her left hand. "My right hand is for my sword," she showed the hilt of the sword on her left hip and then turned her hips to show the empty sheath for her knife on the right hip. "My left hand should be for the knife but while my left hand is very strong, it is clumsy. I try to practice with it as much as I can because I do most of my killing with a knife.

"You have no idea how irritating it is to use your knife in a fight and have to change hands when you draw your sword."

Cut throats with your knife and then change hands to kill more people with your sword?

"No, I don't," Rohana agreed mildly. "Jess, you don't seem to get angry much, at least not with your friends. My mother was angry all the time."

"You should see me with bullies." Jess laughed self-consciously. "I wish I could stop that. It gets me into trouble all the time. I am trying to hide from my enemies but it's as if I get on top of the tallest building and scream out to them 'here I am!' I wouldn't have wanted to do it any differently, but what happened in Dilkor was a disaster for me. There must be people searching for the killer of the sons of the sheik and that group of shepherds and the blood priest. If they hear about Dilkor it's as if I have hung a sign around my neck and walked the streets ringing a bell and yelling out 'it was me! It was me!"'

Rohana giggled. "If you were trying to travel quietly you are not doing a good job, I'll grant you that."

"Excuse us, great ladies." They were interrupted by a girl, maybe nine.

She was very thin looking, dressed in rags and had a grubby face. She had an equally grubby six-year-old boy in tow, hanging back shyly. "Can you spare a few coppers?"

"Don't give them any." A nearby stall holder called out loudly. "You will have a whole pile of them on you. A lot of them have handlers who take most of the money off them."

"No money," Jess said. "But I'll feed you if you are hungry."

The girl considered that for a moment. Then she nodded warily.

Jess left Rohana to eat watermelon while she organised bread and vegetable khoresht (stew) at the stall. Ten of the local street rats appeared from out of nowhere. They all eyed her suspiciously but when she left them alone to eat, squatting in the dirt while she walked back to Rohana, they relaxed. She didn't want anything in return.

"For some of them this is more food than they have had all week, but they still eat slowly," Jess said, watching them.

An ancient grizzled water seller appeared. His orange hat was lined around the rim with tassels and beading. His wide grin showed all he had remaining in his mouth were the stumps of three teeth. He had a large leather skin slung over his shoulders wrapped in a cloth which he kept wet to cool his water (and himself). Across his chest he had a row of bronze cups strung like military decorations. Jess called him over and they had a few cups of his cool water.

He quickly walked away as an arban (squad) of Hun horsemen trotted up. The urchins scattered in all directions except for the little girl and her brother. They couldn't get away quickly enough and ended bailed up in a corner.

"They've probably been stealing," Jess muttered as her hand flew to the hilt of her sword and she began to stand up.

"Jess, no!" Rohana said. "Let me handle this."

She lifted up her veena onto her lap and frowned in concentration as she tuned it. Her finger flew over the strings, striking up a lively rhythm and her clear voice burst out singing ... in Hunnic, no less. Jess found to her surprise that she could understand a few of the words.

The men surged over; the girl and her brother were forgotten. They stood in a semi-circle, all smiles, and began clapping and singing in time. Jess hesitated and then joined in the clapping.

Hunnic music had a lively beat and strong rhythm and Rohana set up a nasal second counterpoint on the veena to the main tune. Her singing became high pitched with a slight guttural twang in the back of her throat. Whatever it was, it was just perfect for her impromptu audience. One of the older Hun men had tears in his eyes.

Rohana went on to sing four of the lively ballads. For the last two she put her veena aside and brushed her long black hair back and began to dance as she sang: arms out, swaying and turning, swinging her hips, gesturing and rocking her head and shoulders, her eyes sparkling.

"Enough, Rohana!" Jess laughed.

Rohana glared at her for interrupting and then looked confused. She sat down, flushed and a little breathless. "Sorry, I completely forgot about my heart. I don't know how. I was really enjoying that!"

"So I noticed. How do you feel?"

"I have never felt better in all my life!"

The leader's name was 'Roua'. He asked Rohana in halting Sogdiane if she was staying long in the town. "You play at ‘Tashkent’, best in city. I have much influence with owner Marspend."

He had assumed they were travelling minstrels. Jess searched her brain for a polite excuse. She was distracted as the men took up a collection of coins.

"Thank you, Roua, we'd be delighted," Rohana said. "I will definitely go and talk to him first thing tomorrow."

She gave him a cheery wave as he walked away.

"WHAT!" Jess spluttered in disbelief. "'We'd be delighted,' she says! 'I will definitely go and talk to him tomorrow,' she says! What about us trying to hide?"

"Oh, Jess, a group of lady entertainers is the perfect disguise." Rohana gave her a smug look. "No one would look for a rabid killer in a group of lady musicians. It's better than you leaving your trail of dead bodies behind."

Rabid?

"Jess, you said you can't resist certain things," Rohana added. "Well, I can't resist an audience."

"A bunch of Huns?"

"They were very appreciative," Rohana showed her small handful of silver. "I doubt anyone here can do Hunnic music like I can. I am very good. Besides, Roua was rather handsome, don't you think?"

Jess felt like slapping her own forehead with frustration.

When Pandora and Iraj arrived not long afterwards to collect them and have their share of watermelon, Jess was still quivering with outrage.

"Singing at a tavern, can I help?" Pandora asked.

"It sounds like a perfect disguise," Iraj agreed. "Er, but it is Jess's decision."

"Absolutely not!" Jess said firmly. "We need to be inconspicuous for once."

Iraj was more interested in Jess's theory about Rohana's heart.

"I would have said it can't happen in adults, but there is so much I don't know," Jess told them.

"It's you," Iraj said.

"What do you mean?" Jess turned to Iraj. "It's me?"

"The more I find out about you, the more things I find you have in common with Jacinta."

Oh no!

Iraj explained his theories about Jess and Jacinta to Rohana. "I think Jacinta's task isn't finished and her God has sent Jess to finish it," he concluded with satisfaction.

"Iraj thinks I am some sort of poor second choice to a dead Gypsy girl," Jess explained. "If I never hear the name Jacinta again, I'll be a happy woman."

"Which is why you are going to the Troad, I suppose."

Jess looked at him sharply, and then she sighed with a sheepish grin.

"All right, but I think I was alive and in the desert before Jacinta got killed. So her God called me before she failed. Besides, what does this have to do with Rohana?"

"The elf queen, Elena, was an elvish healer."

"Oh no, please, Iraj! I am not the first assassin to know about herbs."

"What you do know is absolutely amazing," Rohana suggested. "It is more like elvish knowledge."

"Please, don't encourage him," Jess moaned. "I've never even met an elf."

"That's it!" Iraj said, clapping his hands. "Now I know! Hakeem and Jacinta were paladins, religious knights. They had the healing touch. I think Jacinta's God has nominated you as her replacement and has given you some of her abilities."

"Me, a religious knight? Come on now." Jess laughed. "It would be handy to have a healing touch, but I can assure you I don't."

"Are you sure?" Iraj looked at her intently.

He rolled up his sleeve and with a dramatic flourish produced his knife. Before they could stop him, he sliced his forearm.

"Iraj!" the girls shrieked in unison.

Blood began dripping on the ground.

"Jess, heal it!" Iraj's eyes had taken on a feverish excitement.

"I can't believe you just did that," Jess muttered.

She grabbed his arm, her hands slippery with his blood, and frowned in concentration. Then she strained hard, darkening and holding her breath. The only thing that happened was that she managed to look constipated. Blood continued to drip onto the sand.

She let her breath out with an explosive sigh.

"Pandora, can you bring that spare cloth from the saddle bag so I can bind this genius's arm?" she asked. "And bring a tent hammer so I can hit him over the head a few times."

"Maybe you need practice." Iraj looked embarrassed as she bound his arm.

Of course, I really think the other girls would be happy to cut their arms too.

I hope it stings.

* * *

As they led the camels back to the inn, Pandora kept excitedly jumping on Jess's back and hugging her. "Pleease Jess can we perform with Rohana! Pleease!"

Jess tried her best to ignore her and walk on, but it was hard with a girlfriend jumping all over her and grinning excitedly into her face.

I just know I am going to regret this.

"All right," she said eventually through gritted teeth.

"Yes!!" Pandora shouted in Jess's ear, half deafening her.

When Jess looked up to see Rohana sitting on the camel and trying not to burst out laughing, she gave up on any pretence of dignity. She threw the reins of the camels to Iraj and allowed Pandora to jump on her back. They went running down the street.

With Jess running around like a (black) circus pony and her girlfriend on her back crying out with delight and waving one hand in a circular motion, they managed to get a fair number of startled passers-by to stop and watch.

* * *

"No," Marspend, the owner of the tavern, said to Jess. "I don't need you as a guard. My customers would laugh at me if I hired a female guard."

He looked her up and down. "Can you dance?"

Jess thought for a minute. "I can dance, but I would need practice first."

"Good," Marspend gave her a smirk. "I have the perfect outfit for someone built like you."

* * *

Jess let out a shaky breath and tugged at her pony tail.

She only had a few days to practice. And Rohana didn't help at all. She kept varying what she played in complex ways. She said that it expressed her mood at the time.

And she really should have checked what sort of outfit the owner of a tavern had in mind before she had agreed to wear it. A drop of perspiration ran down her ribs.

Rohana started with a playful prelude: tonal, nasal and resonating. Then she started to sing, not words, just tones. Pandora joined in with the beat of the drum.

Jess felt like wiping her hands on the flimsy silk outfit.

How did she ever agree to this?

She experimentally shook her ankles to hear the bells. Rohana's veena began to talk to itself, in a complex introspective way. Jess walked nervously out from behind the curtain.

The room was dimly lit, most of the men looked up and then idly went back to their conversations. With this many men in the semi-darkness, the room was hot and close, smelling of beer and male sweat.

"Take it off!" one of the men right at the back screamed out.

The veena began to establish a soft dominant rhythm and the drum joined in.

Jess began to rock and sway to the music.

"Don't worry about dancing, just take it off!" the same man yelled out.

After a moment Jess forgot where she was and started to enjoy herself.

She lifted forward on one foot, the other stretched out behind her, and spun gracefully to the floor, pulling her arms in, head bowed, and then she threw her arms out, her back arched as the silks floated around her.

Rohana picked up the pace. Jess began to leap and kick and twirl, bells tinkling but not too fast yet, her superb muscular control holding her in perfect balance as the beat got faster.

She dove into a forward roll and sprang up into the air, her hands stretched out.

The noise of talking began to subside.

The beat got faster and stronger. It became insistent and primal, beating on the walls. A hush fell over the audience.

Jess lifted the first veil, big enough to cover her body, and threw it up into the air. Her breathing was quick, sweat trickling down her face.

She broke into a grin.

The music got faster and she strutted and stomped in a semi–circle, making the ankle bells jingle louder, nodding and pointing to each group of men in turn, challenging each of them with a knowing, breathless, half smile.

Then she spun and dropped to the floor. The music slowed for a moment and she rose on one leg and hopped into the air, one leg balanced out behind her.

Another veil floated away and one of the tavern guards scurried to retrieve it.

Then the rhythm really picked up, urgent, commanding. Jess began to clap and skip across, bells jingling, to slap her hands on each table, one after the other. The men began to clap in time. She was breathless and sweating freely. She spun and leapt, another veil came away.

Soon I'll be dancing naked!

She rolled sideways and turned it into a forward somersault all in one movement and then leapt again. She felt all the men's eyes on her now, the heat of their bodies, their lust. It was such a delicious feeling.

There was a group of men sitting in a corner. Amongst them was a boy, maybe thirteen.

His eyes were huge. He couldn't take them off her. She let another veil fall and danced across to him, smiling just for him.

He flushed, crimson.

The men around him laughed and teased him, slapping his back. She put her hands on his shoulders, moving in time with the music. Her breasts bouncing gently as she swayed and his hands gravitated towards them.

"That's the way, little brother!" The man next to him laughed.

She moved to sit in his lap, arms around his neck, and kissed him on the lips; his hands seemed glued to her breasts as she kicked her legs up in time to the music.

Then she was gone, leaving him clutching at a veil.

One of the patrons got up a little unsteadily. She danced around him and he tried to dance clumsily. He lunged for her, she tripped him but then caught him before he could injure himself and lowered him to the floor.

She kissed his hair and got up to continue to dance as the tavern guards helped him back to his seat.

"No more," one of them warned. "Let her dance."

The music was faster and faster and now Jess was pushed to keep up.

The last veil dropped. The men surged forwards. The tavern guards drew their cudgels. Jess ducked for the stage door, laughing as she pushed a bolt home.

Everyone stood to cheer; the stamping and clapping and whistling was deafening.

* * *

"There is a wealthy patron to see you," Marspend said.

He looked at her and obviously liked what he saw. Minus several veils, her outfit was even more see through than before. Jess used a towel to wipe her forehead. "I'll get dressed."

"No, leave that outfit on. If you play this right, you can make some real money."

"I don't do that sort of thing."

"I told him that, but he still wanted to see you. I think he is really rich."

Well, she would enjoy putting this 'really rich' man in his place. Did he think she would do anything for money? Well, apart from dancing nearly naked for a roomful of men.

A handsome Sakā man was shown in. His clothes were modest. By his bearing he was of noble birth.

"My name is Kaeva."

That wouldn't be his real name.

"And this is my friend Syavash."

His 'friend' eyed Jess guardedly and then glanced over the small room, looking for concealed threats. He took up a post in a corner where he could cover any entrance points.

Whoever Kaeva was, he was in hiding.

"My name is Jess. How may I help you?" She favoured him with her sweetest smile.

"My young brother Hvâzâta was quite taken with you."

"The boy?" Jess sputtered. "Is that what this is about? Was it he who asked?"

Kaeva coloured. "He is too shy for that. You will be well paid."

"He didn't seem so shy when I was dancing. A virgin, I must say I'm tempted, but I have to say no, I don't do such things for money."

"A pity," Kaeva bowed. "We really did enjoy your dancing, though. Will you be here tomorrow night?"

"Yes, I will." Most definitely!

When he left there were five silver sigloi on her dressing table. Jess lifted them up, and held them to her cheek, a smile on her face.

* * *

"Where are my clothes?" she asked.

"You look fantastic in that outfit," Pandora said breathlessly. "Doesn't she, Rohana?"

Rohana nodded. "It almost makes me want to switch to girls."

"Really?" Jess paraded back and forwards and spun around in front of her two friends. "Won't Marspend want it back?"

"You are supposed to take it home and wash it. I sent your spare veils and other things back with a maid who was going that way. Come on," Pandora coaxed, passing her the veils she had discarded. "It's only a short way."

"You can't expect me to wear this, surely?"

"I'll make it worth your while," Pandora said with a suggestive smile.

"Oh, all right then," Jess said, taking a deep breath. "Where's my weapons?"

Pandora gasped; her hands flew to her mouth in dismay.

"Pandora, don't tell me you have disarmed me in the middle of a border town and left me dressed like this!"

"You can't blame me!" Pandora protested. "I was excited thinking of you in that outfit. You can have my bow."

Jess looked like she was considering strangling her girlfriend.

"Keep it, but string it and fit an arrow," Jess said between clenched teeth. "With the mood I'm in I think I might just break it over your head."

Rohana passed Jess her belt knife.

Jess held it up. It was a third the size of her own belt knife.

A toy belt knife! Great, just great.

"Thank you, Rohana," she managed, her voice sounding strangled.

"It's only a short way," Rohana said, encouragingly. "After all, what could possibly go wrong?"

* * *

Roaming the streets

Jess stalked through the dimly lit streets muttering to herself. Her two chastened friends followed close behind.

There was a full moon. Pandora had an arrow fitted and was scanning the buildings, the shadows, the roof tops. She was making a point of showing how alert she was.

"'You look fantastic,' she said," Jess muttered. "'Where are my weapons,' I said. 'Here, have a toy knife instead,' she said."

"Do you know how chilly it is dressed like this?" she called back to Pandora.

Pandora and Rohana thought it best not to answer.

It had been warm in the crowded tavern but it was spring in the desert, still chilly of an evening. Another thing they hadn't thought of.

At least it seemed quiet, Pandora thought.

They were most of the way to their inn when Jess slowed and motioned them to the side, into the shadows.

"What's the problem?" Pandora whispered.

"It's too quiet," Jess whispered. "Many of the houses aren't showing any light."

They could see their inn but Jess stayed, watching and listening and sniffing the breeze. She eventually stood up. "Whatever it is, it's not about us. I think maybe one of the local gangs have set a trap for someone, nearby but not here."

Just then they could hear the distant sounds of a man screaming and men shouting.

"Rohana, go on to the inn," Jess ordered. "We are going to see what it is, don't worry, we won't get involved. It's not our fight."

She led Pandora, crouched down, in the direction of the fight.

A small group of men were being set upon by a large group. They had retreated into a blind alley. They must have expert swordsmen as they were holding their own even though badly outnumbered.

"That is Kaeva there," Jess hissed. "Oh no! His young brother is on the ground and he is hurt!"

"Who?"

"Kaeva, the nice Sakā man who wanted to buy me to have sex with his younger brother." Jess explained. "There are two archers on that roof. Do you think you can get them if I distracted them?"

Pandora felt a thrill of fear. "Do you think I'm ready?"

"I do, but we have to hurry. They can't hold out for much longer and they are trapped in that alleyway."

Pandora slung her bow across her shoulders. Jess gave her a savage kiss and hoisted her up.

Then Jess sprinted down the alley, running up a stack of boxes for a flying leap into the fight. Sailing through the air with her silk dress streaming out behind her, she looked like a vengeful (black-bodied) butterfly.

She landed just behind the attackers and rolled. Local men, not Hun, so nothing official.

One of the archers on the roof shot at her but she ducked into the shadows. He screamed as he tumbled from the roof. The other archer looked around wildly, but didn't sight Pandora.

Jess scurried in low, slashed one of the hamstrings of an attacker and stabbed another in the calf. She had a sword by the time several of the men turned to face her. It was not a moment too soon; another of Kaeva's men had fallen and they were hard pressed.

Jess ducked in and out of the darkness, leaving another four men dead or injured on the ground.

As she came back into a patch of moonlight the last archer stood up. Distracted by a man coming towards her, she wasn't watching him and an arrow punched her in the back hard enough to knock her to her knees and make her cry out. Her left arm went useless and the dagger fell somewhere on the ground. She only barely managed to stab the man in front of her with her sword.

Pandora appeared on the roof. "Jess, get out of the way."

Jess had to lean her weight on the sword to stagger away, dragging herself into the shadows while Pandora began firing at the remaining attackers.

Having lost archer support, they decided to give it up. They gathered their wounded and fled.

Jess stumbled over to Kaeva and Syavash. Everything seemed to be rippling in a strange way.

"Jess Khanum (Lady Jess)!" Syavash called out in shock.

If Jacinta can do it

She fell to her knees beside Hvâzâta and collapsed forward, reaching out with her hand.

* * *

Jess opened her eyes to see Syavash sitting on the edge of the bed, grinning at her.

She couldn't move.

"Are you going to explain to me how we ended up being rescued by a pair of dancing girls?"

"Rohana is an entertainer but Pandora and I aren't," Jess admitted.

"Really?" Syavash said mildly. "Go on.",

"I have enemies." Just don't ask me who they all are, I only know the many, many, recent ones. "And we are travelling in disguise."

"You make a wonderful dancer and fighter, but if you are trying to travel quietly you are doing a terrible job. Are you an assassin?"

"Yes," it seemed useless to deny it. Between herself and Pandora they had killed how many men? Syavash looked cold. He leaned forward and placed a dagger at her throat.

"And who have you been sent to kill?"

"Syavash, if you wanted to kill me now, I can't stop you," Jess said. "I am not hired to kill anyone and if you think I came to kill Hvâzâta and Kaeva you are a lot crazier than you look ... Have you tied me up? I can't move."

She was half sitting and partly turned on her right side. Her weight was on her right arm. Her left arm was bandaged against her chest. She tried to roll over but there was excruciating pain in her back.

Syavash put the knife away and hugged her forward, packing pillows behind so she could sit up comfortably.

"We owe you our lives, but I had to ask. You are in our new hiding spot. Pandora and my men have gone to pick up Rohana and your belongings. And I haven't tied you up. You were shot in the back, remember? It shattered your shoulder blade and bounced off a rib."

Jess moaned in pain and disgust. Then something occurred to her.

"Did you dress my wounds?" She was naked under the sheet.

"Jess, I saw you dance." Syavash gave her a smirk.

Jess felt the blood rush to her face. "Can I get dressed, please?"

"Your outfit is ruined. Pandora said not to give you any clothes or you would only try to get up."

"Everyone keeps hiding my clothes!" Jess pouted.

"Really?" Syavash smiled at the memory of her naked body. "I wonder why."

 

 

Chapter 14: The Sâh of Xvairizem

"Argh! What is this?" Jess tried to turn her head away.

Pandora climbed astride her. She grabbed her chin with one hand and firmly tipped the contents of the bronze spoon into her mouth.

"It's some of our opion (opium) dissolved in wine brandy, and there are other good things in it too. I'm supposed to give you a spoonful every four hours if you need it."

"Wal I done need id." Jess screwed up her face, looking for somewhere to spit it out. "Is bidder, can you mix id wid honey?"

"Just swallow it or I'll hold your nose and cover your mouth."

Jess swallowed. "Awk! Doesn't this stuff cause you to vomit?"

"Hvâzâta didn't complain, but of course his dose was half yours."

"How is he?" Jess asked.

Pandora's face fell. "They got the arrow out but it pierced his lung. He shouldn't have lived this long."

"You know that thing that Jacinta was able to do, you know the healing touch? I tried it with Hvâzâta."

"Did it work?"

"I don't know, I passed out."

"If you could do what Jacinta could do, you could heal yourself and fight the medicine."

"I'm not Jacinta." Jess was having trouble keeping her eyes open. "Maybe she couldn't do it either, thay jus said she cud."

"What did you say?"

"May bee thed jus sed—" Jess tried to talk clearly. "Whad you gib me?"

She heard Pandora mutter that it shouldn't work so fast.

The next thing she knew she was dreaming.

"You have to pray." A young Gypsy girl, tall and muscular, was standing in front of her.

Jess couldn't see her face clearly.

"Pray to whom? And for what?"

"If you want to heal somebody you need to pray to our God. You know, the one you can feel inside yourself."

"You're Jacinta! What is your connection with me?"

"I'm just in your mind." Jacinta seemed to smile. "I can't tell you anything you don't already know."

* * *

It was still dark when she woke.

Her vision jerked as it adjusted to the darkness. If she had a room to herself, it must be a big place, a noble's house and not too many people around.

At least she was being treated well. There were some advantages in saving people's lives.

She needed to get up to pee.

She couldn't.

She was naked. Syavash had bandaged her arm securely to her chest. Every effort was agony. She couldn't lever herself out of bed. She clenched her jaw and reached deep inside herself for that 'something' that helped her block the pain.

Moving her legs crab wise she managed to slip one hip off the couch. She still hadn't turned so she had to continue on until she got her other hip over and let herself slip down low till she was almost squatting against the bed ... which moved backwards a little, almost resulting in her falling.

She rocked forward and managed to stand. Wave after wave of agony stabbed through her. She had to bite her lip to prevent herself from calling out. No, she wasn't Jacinta, she couldn't heal herself.

Then she remembered that strange dream.

Damn Syavash for tying her arm up! Damn Syavash, damn Pandora! They bossed her around and they did things to her without even asking.

She smiled. It wasn't really their fault she had a fractured shoulder blade. It was nice having people caring for her. When she was in the desert she was bitten by a snake which she was trying to catch for food. She was alone then. That was bad.

Well, first things first.

She found a heavy glazed pot under the couch by clever method of kicking it with her naked toes. At least it was empty.

She imagined Syavash holding her up, naked while she peed. Hardly erotic. Was she attracted to the handsome Sakā who had threatened her with a knife?

Yes, she was.

Her pot had disappeared under the couch, of course it had. She kept trying to hook it with her foot. Eventually she managed to position it and painfully lowered herself down. Unfortunately when she finally got into position she gave a deep sigh of relief. Slumped over, all she could do was wait for the pain to pass.

When she could relax she could feel a thin stream running out of her and hear a faint tinkling sound. Of course, there was no cloth to wipe herself or clothes to wear. Oh well, her nether-regions would dry in the warm air of the house.

She poured herself several cups of water one handed and drank her fill. Then, grabbing the linen sheet and wrapping it around her, she padded out into the house.

The door from her room led into a larger room used as a dormitory with several men and a small fire which had burnt down. Rohana and Pandora were lying on the floor. Rohana was the only one awake. She looked like she hadn't slept much and had been crying.

"He's dying," she said. "Most of them have left him to let him get some sleep."

Jess hurried as much as she could, following the light of an oil lamp showing down a corridor. She saw a large man move out of the room before she got there. He didn't seem to see her in the dark.

Kaeva was asleep in a chair. Hvâzâta was a small figure lying on the couch. His body bathed in sweat. His lips were dusky in the poor light. His breathing was laboured and was starting to have pauses followed by shuddering gasps. She reached out to take his hand. His pulse was weak and racing.

The room smelt of death.

There is no time, he is dying! Pray, Jess, pray!

Would a God even listen to something like her? How does one pray to a God? Surely it doesn't have to be in a lot of words. A God would know.

She bent her head, closed her eyes and ... concentrated.

Pray.

She felt sweat trickling down her forehead.

In her mind she could see where the arrow had penetrated the lung. He hadn't been wearing any armour and it had passed through, fracturing his ribs front and back. The bleeding had stopped but there was too much blood in the chest cavity, filling it, pressing on the lungs so he couldn't breathe. She needed to drain it.

Pray.

Her mind merged with his wounds. She felt herself opening the wound at his back to form a flap. It sealed when he breathed in but pushed a little blood out every time he breathed out. Slowly, bit by bit, the blood began to pump out, a thin trickle.

The room was darkening and starting to spin.

She hung on to the bed to steady herself. She still needed to check if those blood vessels would start bleeding again once the pressure came off. No, they had sealed.

Now for that rib; good, it wasn't pressing on the lung.

Someone shouted. There was the sound of running feet. Jess was grabbed.

She was completely helpless. She felt herself grabbed and flung against the wall. Agony shot through her and darkness claimed her. A hard slap woke her, she tasted blood.

"Careful, Zhubin," Syavash warned. "She's no use to us unconscious."

Zhubin pressed a knife hard against her throat. He was furious; he was trembling with restrained rage. He really wanted to use it on her and kill her, there and then. She was in so much pain it was hard to know if she cared.

"You don't need a knife. If you want to kill me all you need is a pillow."

In the other room Pandora was screaming, then her screams cut off abruptly.

"Kill her," a tall man suggested. He was one of the swordsmen from the fight in the alley.

"A simple thank you would have done."

She tried to block the agony. She needed to think, her life and the lives of her friends depended on it.

Syavash shook his head. "Tell me what you and your friends are doing in this city."

I am a daimôn changeling and I carry a dead Gypsy girl inside me. I have been selected to kill someone who is guarded by a daimôn lord.

"What have you done with my friends?"

"Kill her and her two friends," the tall one said.

Jess was beginning to dislike him.

"What were you doing with the boy?" Syavash asked. "You had your hand on his throat. Were you trying to kill him?"

"Sure I was, after I and my friend rescued him and the rest of you. First I dragged myself over to kill him in the alleyway by bleeding all over him. When that didn't work, I came here without a weapon to strangle him one handed by laying my hand on his throat and wrist in my weakened state."

The guard put more pressure on the knife at her throat.

"All right, all right," she said quickly, "I might have healing magic. I wanted to see if I could make it work on him."

"You think you might?" Syavash gave a nasty laugh. "What sort of story is that?"

"Leave Jess alone," a faint voice came from the corner.

The men surged over to look at Hvâzâta.

Jess was ignored.

"He is awake, his breathing has eased," Kaeva said.

"I still say we should kill her and her friends," the tall man sounded disappointed.

"Not if she can help Hvâzâta." Zhubin sheathed his knife and gently lifted Jess, cradling her against his strong chest as he carried her back to her bed.

First throw her against the wall, then hold a knife to her throat and now tuck her into bed. These Sakā men really needed lessons on how to treat a lady.

He put a chair down near the door and sat to guard her, whether to prevent her escaping or from being hurt by one of the others wasn't clear.

Kaeva appeared at the doorway. "I'm sorry about our men. They are very protective of Hvâzâta. We really should be thanking you. You don't know who I am, do you?"

"Please don't tell me," Jess said weakly.

Kaeva moved closer and kissed her on the cheek.

Maybe that was a good sign, she hoped it was. It was hard to tell with these Sakā men.

She just couldn't keep awake any longer, her eyes kept losing focus.

* * *

It was night time when she woke again.

She must have slept the whole day.

Rohana and Pandora were curled up on the floor. Jess tried to move, the pain was less but she couldn't suppress a faint moan.

Rohana sat up.

"Rohana! I am a danger to anyone who comes near me."

"Jess, what are you talking about?"

"Whatever Jacinta was fighting, it's not over."

"Jess, you are not making sense. Was it you that healed me? That chest pain, was it you healing my heart?"

"I don't know. I wished so hard for you to get better, is that a form of prayer? Though it wasn't anything like what happened when I healed Hvâzâta. But that's not important now. I have been sent to finish what Jacinta started, I know that now." She tried to sit up and couldn't, damn! "I bring danger to everyone around me. We have to split up. I can't stay here."

"Jess, don't talk like that or I will get really angry with you. We are your friends, if you are in some sort of trouble we will stick by you."

"Rohana, I think I am in about as much trouble as I could possibly be in. I have to take up where Jacinta left off."

"Oh that! Pandora and I had already worked that out. What do you have to do?"

"I don't know."

Just then Kaeva and Syavash heard them talking and brought a lamp in. Kaeva replaced Rohana on the bed and bent over to kiss her, his tears wetting her cheeks. Then it was Syavash's turn. As Syavash went to straighten up Jess desperately grabbed at his vest.

"Syavash, please! I am bringing danger to everyone in this house. I have to leave."

"What's she talking about?" Syavash asked Pandora.

"I'll tell you as soon as I have given Jess her medicine."

Pandora had a look of determination on her face as she measured the dose into the spoon.

She straddled the couch and pushed the spoon to Jess's mouth, grabbing Jess's chin. Jess tried to struggle, she pressed her lips together as hard as she could.

"Could you give me a hand holding her, Syavash?"

Syavash leaned forward.

Jess opened her mouth to protest but Pandora took the chance to tip the medicine in and clamped a hand over Jess's mouth.

The determined look on Pandora's face told Jess that resistance was futile.

"That's not fair! Awk! You forgot the honey."

"It is supposed to take half the turn of a glass but it seems to be much faster with Jess," Pandora said conversationally as she eyed her patient with smug satisfaction. "All we have to do now is wait."

Jess poked her tongue out at her grinning friend. "How is Hvâzâta?"

"It seems you have saved my brother again." Kaeva eyed her up and down. "Now what trouble are you girls in?"

"Just me, and I am so sorry. If the Hun knew about me they would send people to hunt me down and kill me! I am bringing danger to all of you."

Kaeva looked at the earnest look on the girl's face and ... he burst out laughing.

"Whaz so fuddy?" Jess was struggling to talk clearly, her eyes felt so heavy.

"It shouldn't work so fast but Jess is a little bit different to the rest of us." Pandora giggled.

"Maybe we can take some of that stuff with us when we leave," Rohana suggested. "Oh that's right, we already have some."

"Done oo dare. Gan you tage dis bandarge orv of me?"

"What's she saying?" Kaeva tilted his head slightly.

"She's thanking you for your offer of protection and saying she is happy to stay with you here until she is better," Pandora said.

Jess stopped struggling to speak, mainly because Jacinta had appeared, standing amongst them. Her facial features were clearer now. "I told you it would work."

"I keep passing out."

"That's because you are hurt. It will get better with practice. Your shoulder will heal more quickly than normal but you need to learn how to actively heal yourself. For that you need to understand about energy and healing."

"They don't seem worried about the Huns."

"Of course not, Hvâzâta is Šâhzadeh (Prince) Kûrav. Didn't you pick up on that while you were healing him? Sâh (Shah) Afrīḡ had two sons."

"Who is Afrīḡ?"

"Jess, Afrīḡ was the Sâh of this whole country. Don't you know anything?"

"Hold on, you said you were only in my mind and you only knew what I knew."

Jacinta ignored her. "Afrīḡ got killed fighting the Huns. That means Kaeva is Parvez.

"Jess, we are in the house of the true Sâh of Xvairizem."

* * *

Jess woke up at first light.

Pandora was asleep on a mat on the floor. She woke when Jess stirred.

"Good morning, can you take this bandage off me please? My shoulder doesn't hurt anymore."

"You're lying."

"Yes I am, but I'm completely helpless bandaged like this. Please."

After being unwound from the bandage and using the pot, Jess went with Pandora and Rohana to check on the young prince. The boy was sleeping. She closed her eyes and concentrated. No signs of infection, but he had lost a lot of blood.

Syavash led her to two men with stab wounds. They were easier to heal. At least she didn't pass out, not quite, but Pandora and Rohana had to help her back to her bed. Her use of her shattered shoulder wasn't much better without the bandage.

It was only a few hours this time before she woke again. Parvez was sitting by her bed side.

"Sâh Parvez," Jess made a futile effort to rise.

"How did you know?" Parvez gently pushed her back into the bed.

I'm haunted by a dead Gypsy girl.

"When I healed your brother I got his name, Šâhzadeh (Prince) Kûrav. It was a matter of guessing who you would be."

"Pandora tells me you believe you have been sent by a God to finish the task that Jacinta had."

"It seems so, but all I have are guesses. I don't know a lot about Jacinta."

"Jacinta was only a young girl when she was killed but she, more than any other, saved the world from daimôns. With her gone and Gansükh still alive the world has no defence against them."

This had to be some sort of sick joke, it had to be. Could a God have such a sick sense of humour? Sending Jess, a changeling imitation daimôn to fight real daimôns?

Parvez noticed her expression. "Jacinta, Hakeem and Elena were the central figures in the ancient Prophecy of the elves. Jacinta's role was finding magic old and new. There was a book of forbidden spells of the extinct svartálfar (dark elves) hidden in the catacombs beneath the ruins of elvish Troia. She was carrying the book when her party was attacked by a daimôn sent by the great enemy Æloðulf. She was bathed in daimôn fire —"

The room disappeared.

Parvez disappeared.

She was fighting the sorcerer in a dark place deep beneath the ground, or was it really the sorcerer she was fighting? Her family and friends were about to be killed. She was frantic.

And then there was an explosion, and it was all fire and pain.

Her mouth was opened and her chest was straining, a high-pitched noise filled the air. She realised she was screaming. There was the sound of running feet and Pandora was holding her, rocking her, stroking her hair and kissing her.

All she could do for a long time was sob.

"I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry," Parvez insisted. "What happened?"

"I don't have memories about myself, a few fragments only," Jess said. "When you told me about Jacinta being attacked by a daimôn, something similar happened to me." She pulled her glove off and showed him her hand. "For a moment I was back there, being hit by a blast of wizard power. It was horrible."

Parvez was astounded. "Your hand is just like what they said about Jacinta's. Does it sparkle in the dark?"

"If it does, I won't be too surprised, but I don't think I want to know." Jess shuddered. "I'm sorry. I'm more than a little fed up of being like Jacinta."

He looked at her.

She sighed, defeated, "All right, can you tell me more about her?"

Parvez looked at her anxiously and then slowly resumed his story. "The daimôn fire did something to her hand. It retained the ability to attack daimôns and spell weapons and they stayed spelled for a few weeks at a time. That's how they protected Elgard against the daimôns."

Jess looked at her left hand. "It doesn't attack daimôns, at least I don't think it would, but it did help me fight against some other magic."

"In the final battle for Elgard, Jacinta had her own daimôn lord called Ba'al," Parvez continued. "It helped her kill Æloðulf, but then it turned against her and killed her. A lot of people thought that was the last battle of an ancient war against the daimôn raisers."

"Apparently not, I have to go to the Troad and find out what it is I am supposed to do."

"That is something that I have found puzzling," Parvez said. "The Prophecy mentions a room in a place called 'Nowhere', and armour and weapons in a place called the 'Deepest' and it also says Æloðulf will never be defeated. So, when Æloðulf was killed it seemed that the Prophecy was wrong."

"Maybe he isn't dead." Rohana shuddered.

Jess yawned. She was having trouble staying awake.

"You need rest," Parvez said. "Do you want to eat something first?"

Jess nodded. "Thank you, please, I'm so hungry I could eat an old boot."

They began filing out.

"You are so beautiful," Syavash patted her foot before he left. "It would have burned my heart to kill you."

And you Sakā men say the nicest things.

But when Pandora came back with bread and stew Jess was staring into space, silent tears running down her face. "Do you think Jacinta's God threw me scraps of memories copied from a dead girl? Maybe it doesn't matter with something like me."

"Jess, don't you talk like that or I'll fetch your medicine! Firstly, it is your God too and he gave you the healing touch. He wouldn't give you something like that if he didn't love you. You may not have much of a past but I don't care."

"I may not have much of a future either if Æloðulf is still alive."

"The point is that you have people who love you." She paused. "I know just what you need."

"Not more medicine!" Jess protested.

"No, not the medicine." Pandora gave her a mischievous look. "Me."

"Pandora! I'm injured, I can't do much."

"I'm not injured." Pandora laughed, putting the broth away.

 

 

Chapter 15: A Šâhzadeh (Prince).

Pandora was right, Jess thought as she woke.

She was surrounded by people who loved her.

And Pandora also knew just what Jess had needed to cheer her up. She had had an uninterrupted sleep, no dead Gypsy girl.

Normally she didn't sleep this much but she wasn't surprised that it was dark when she woke. Her vision jerked a little as it adjusted. In the dark all she could see was shades of grey except for the figure that was standing at the foot of the bed dressed in an exquisite red dress.

It was Jacinta. She looked younger than before and Jess could see her face clearly now, if this was indeed what Jacinta really looked like.

"That's a lovely dress."

"Thank you, Jess. It's an elf dress; Seléne gave it to me when I was fourteen."

"I'm sorry you had to die so young."

"Oh, I haven't died. I'm just lost. I don't know where I am or how to get back. I wanted to tell you how to heal yourself. It's not a lot different from healing others but to stop you getting tired there are special sources of energy you have to use, you have lots of spare energy inside you. When you want to, you need to look for it."

"Daimôn energy," Jess snorted in disgust. "Jacinta, is it me who has to help you get home? I know you don't mean to haunt me, but I'm a little sick of feeling like a pale imitation of you."

Or a dark imitation.

"That's perfectly all right, I am leaving you now anyway."

"Wait!"

But Jacinta was gone.

* * *

Jess woke feeling refreshed and almost free of pain.

It had worked just as Jacinta had said and Jess certainly had no shortage of energy to use.

She regretted telling Jacinta to go, but didn't know how to call her back.

As she walked into the kitchen wrapped in a blanket, Šâhzadeh (Prince) Kûrav was sitting by the stove and Syavash was making him a large omelette. The young prince was looking very pale and tired.

"Your Imperial Highness," Jess bowed.

"Jess, please use our new names," Syavash asked.

"As long as I can still do this." Jess moved closer to hug and kiss the boy.

"I will make it a royal command." Parvez laughed, coming in from behind her. "As long as I can have my share."

Jess took that as a challenge and threw her arms around his neck and gave Parvez a lingering kiss on the lips and pressing her body into his arms.

"If I may, I will stay till Iraj returns, and I'm sure Hvâzâta is well enough. But after that I must head to the Troad."

"Thanks for saving my life again," Hvâzâta said. "I really liked your dancing."

Jess ruffled his hair and gently touched his cheek.

She looked at Syavash. "Is it safe here?"

"Not really. As soon as Hvâzâta can travel we will have to smuggle him into Aryana, but it will mean we are moving away from our main supporters."

"I will be going to Margu, then I was thinking of heading for Tus (Susia) or Nisa."

"I think Nisa would be safer."

"Alright, after crossing Aryana we will head into the desert to Babylṓn, then Taḏmor (Palmyra), then the Aramaic town Hamath and finally Tarsos and the Kilisian gates into Anatolē."

"Be careful crossing the deserts and isolated regions. Always join the big caravans. The old trade routes are no longer safe for small bands. There are a lot of desperate people since the wars and the drought."

"I've certainly noticed that," Jess said quietly.

* * *

When the men led Iraj into the courtyard he was mobbed by the three women.

"This is nice," he laughed.

"We missed you desperately, all of us did," Jess said.

Rohana smiled at him, her eyes sparkling, but she hung back a little.

"Well I see you haven't been able to keep out of trouble. Do you have any idea who owns this house?" Iraj laughed. "All you had to do was keep low."

"I don't think Jess knows how to keep low." Pandora laughed, hugging him.

"Rohana, I brought you flowers," he said, calling to her. He lifted a large bunch of flowers: white yellow and red from behind his back.

"Why, thank you, Iraj." Rohana blushed as she took them.

"I just saw them for sale and knew you liked roses. I hope you don't mind."

Iraj watched her smell them, to make sure she really liked them.

Jess exchanged a glance with Pandora. No flowers for us.

But they still smiled. It was good to have Iraj back!

* * *

Rohana was sitting in the garden tuning her veena when Iraj came over and sat down close to her.

"I have missed you, Rohana. .I couldn't stop thinking of you all the time I was gone."

She felt like fainting. She was finding it hard to concentrate on her veena and it gave a discordant note. He reached over and took it off her and put it gently to one side.

The kiss, when it came, made her feel as if her heart had taken flight. When he finally released her, she gasped for air as she stared up at his handsome face.

"Are you feeling breathless?" he asked with concern.

She laughed and threw her arms over his neck for a fierce kiss of her own. It felt like she was kissing him with her whole being. Then she pulled away, in a panic.

Oh no, what have I done?

"Iraj, I cannot be with a man. Because of my heart, being with child would kill me."

"I don't think that is true any longer," Iraj said, tilting her face towards him and kissing her again. "But you can be with a man and not become pregnant."

"Iraj, I want to be with you," she said breathlessly. "I want to be all of a woman for you, not just a heart cripple."

"Have you asked Jess?"

"What?" Rohana sat up.

"Have you asked Jess if you could have children?"

"Would she be able to tell?"

"How would I know? Have you asked her?"

* * *

Jess had Pandora seated, brushing her hair, enjoying its silky smoothness. Eventually she gave up and threw the brush on the bed so she could nibble at her ear.

"Jess?"

"Mmm, mmm," Jess was giving her lots of kisses, tiny pecks.

"Are we becoming an old couple?"

"WHAT?" Jess sat up, bolt upright. "Dora, as far as my memories are concerned, I am only a couple of years old. How under all the Gods could we become an 'old couple'? And what is an 'old couple', anyway?"

"You've never bought me flowers," Pandora said. "We have passed a lot of flower sellers and you haven't bought me flowers."

Oh, oh.

"I bought you watermelons."

"That's not the same."

I really want to be having sex with you. I don't want to be having this silly conversation.

"Dora, if you wanted flowers all you had to do was ask. I'll buy you flowers tomorrow."

"It's not the same if I have to tell you."

"Why not?" Jess was starting to get irritated. "You end up with the flowers either way."

"If that's the case, I may as well buy them myself."

"Well, you can, you have your own money from the tavern and if you would let me, I would give you a share of the money from Amul." Then something occurred to Jess. "Oh, that reminds me I asked one of the men to get that scented oil you like. I just haven't given it to you yet. And I got you some of that Persian scent too. It's made from flowers at least. I knew you were running low."

"Presents?" Pandora gave her an excited kiss. "You brought me presents?"

Not really, you were running low and the men were going to the market.

Jess got up and rummaged around in her belongings for the little pots.

Pandora kissed them and then kissed her and tugged her forcibly to the bed. After a little while, Jess wondered what a bunch of flowers might get her. Then they were much too busy for her to think of much else but the two of them.

* * *

"How did the visit go?" Jess asked Iraj when she was able to get him alone.

They were in an inner courtyard. Iraj was sitting on a stone bench and Jess was perched just above and behind him on a short wall, dangling one of her feet in the air and one onto the bench.

"Not good," Iraj said, looking up at his friend. "My father would not admit it but he feels responsible for what happened to Katin. They had a big argument before she ran away. Arranged marriages are normal in this part of the world like most other places and a daughter should obey her father. Jess, he looked old. I've never seen my father like that. It's as if a light inside of him has gone out."

"Iraj, do you need to go home?"

"No, I'll stay with you till the end of Aryana. I'm being well paid after all."

Jess laughed. "I think you are earning it."

"I'd want to do it anyway."

Jess smiled at that. "I missed you. I will miss you."

"I'll miss you too. My family wanted to know about Katin's killers, I told them they were dead. I said it wasn't me, and I couldn't tell them what happened. It's going to be awkward though: they know I'm working for you and they are going to hear about Dilkor. While Chandyr is further away all sorts of rumours will eventually make their way here."

Jess smiled. "Rohana says I leave a trail of bodies behind me wherever I go. I don't mind your family knowing, but the more people who know a secret the harder it is to keep."

Iraj left her, to arrange something and Rohana entered as if she was waiting just outside.

"Jess? Do you think I can live a normal life with my heart?" she asked, settling in the spot Iraj had just vacated and leaning against Jess's leg.

"I don't know for sure, but I think so."

"Is there any way you can, you know, tell?"

"Erk!" Jess hit her forehead with an audible slap.

"How silly I am! When I healed, er 'Hvâzâta', I found myself looking inside at his injuries. I never even thought to try it on you."

"Can you check me down below too?"

"Rohana, have you got something wrong down below?"

"No, Jess, but I'm a small woman. I was never able to even hope that I could have a normal life. Now I am going to live, but can I be a real woman? Can I carry a baby for Iraj? Can I deliver a child? Can I live long enough to be a proper mother to my child?"

Jess slid down onto the bench and put her arms around Rohana and hugged her fiercely and kissed her gently.

"Just keep quiet while I concentrate." She closed her eyes.

"There is no hole in your heart and your heart is strong. Your lungs have recovered. I didn't expect that, I can't sense any wrongness there at all. You are small but your pelvis is nice and broad for babies. That is why your bum wiggles so nicely when you walk."

"Jess! Have you been admiring my bum?"

"No! Well, er ... well, maybe." Jess would have flushed if she could.

"There can be no guarantee against something going wrong with pregnancy and delivery, you know that, but there is no reason for you not to have babies. A lot of Hindu women are small like you."

"Iraj wants to marry me," Rohana confessed, blushing. "Should I say yes?"

"What do you think?"

"Yes, yes!"

Iraj appeared. Was he waiting just outside now?

"What are you two talking about?"

"I just asked Rohana to marry me and she said yes." Jess laughed and stood and hugged him and kissed him fiercely.

"I think there was something you need to talk to Rohana about. I'll be back with Pandora and the others in a little while. This, we need to celebrate!"

* * *

They waited half a day's journey south of Amul to join the big caravan.

Syavash had made all the arrangements and paid the usual fees. The guards nodded acknowledgement as they slipped in, unremarked upon by most of their fellow travellers. Groups were still joining and leaving from time to time. It was a large and well organised group with several hundred camels.

A surprise was waiting for them that evening when Frashaoshtra appeared, searching for them, leading the jack (male) donkey from the village. He was travelling with some people he knew to Margu, but he joined their camp fire for some of Jess's cooking and to bring them up on events in Dilkor since they left.

Rohana had been teaching Iraj how to play the veena. She loaned Pandora the drum she had bought in Amul and they all stayed up late around the fire making music and singing some of the old tunes that Iraj and Frashaoshtra knew.

As he was leaving, he gave Jess a special hug.

"Jess, you have given me my life back. I will never forget you or your friends. Once I get to Margu I have family and connections. I should be able to open a small shop and settle down. If there is anything I can do for you, please let me know."

 

Chapter 16: Margu (Merv)

"Mainly Persis," Iraj said as they rode past. "And a few Hun."

Margu (Merv) in the west and its surrounds were in the hands of the Persis. The cities along the Oxus in the east were in the hands of the Hun.

The land they were passing through had seen the greatest empire the world had even known in a brutal and desperate fight for survival against an implacable enemy.

This was the Empire’s eastern front. If the war against the elves had succeeded the Persis would have found themselves fighting on two fronts.

With the death of Mòdú Chányú the fighting had faded into a wary peace, at least for a time. Eventually one side or the other would decide it was time to settle it once and for all. Then the Persis and Hun would face each other again.

They had passed oasis after oasis, burnt out villages and farms and the sites of old battles, some great and some only skirmishes. No people lived here. Now it was only inhabited by dust and sand and the skeletons of the past.

Just then, they were passing what had been the site of old ambush. It looked like a small Persis patrol had gotten the worst of it. The bodies had been picked clean by birds and other scavengers. Anything of value was long gone. It was just bones and scraps of clothing flapping in the wind, half buried in the sand, and a few skeletons of horses covered partly by scraps of grisly leather.

But each of these sad remains had once been a warm breathing person or a loyal animal. The war had taken everything from these people and their trusting animals: their life, their hopes and their dreams.

* * *

A junior lieutenant

"Pandora, take Rohana further back please," Jess ordered, stringing her bow as she saw the dust of horsemen approaching them from a distance.

It proved to be a large patrol out of Margu. After some initial wariness and some sort of bribe changing hands, they were accepted.

The caravan had entered Persian territory.

They were even given a small escort for the early part of the journey. The merchants and their guards relaxed. Pandora re-joined Jess and pointed out one of the junior lieutenants in their escort. She was a horse archer, a stunning young woman: fair skinned with dark brown eyes and hair the colour of jet. She wore a black keffiyeh decorated by silver beading, a loose red tunic over leather body armour, leather trousers and full riding boots.

"I've already seen her." Jess laughed.

"I didn't know the Persis had women in their army," Pandora said.

"They do," Iraj said, riding beside Rohana. "All Aryan and Mazdayasna nations have women warriors. She is from the Lur tribe. Her people grow up in the saddle and are known for their horse archery."

"I'd like to see her shoot," Jess said wistfully.

"She looks so young and energetic," Pandora said. Her mouth was almost drooling as she watched the young woman. "She rides so well!"

"Look how she commands her men," Jess said, her eyes sparkling. "Do you think she might join us at our camp fire tonight?"

"She won't be interested in either of you." Iraj laughed. "You didn't see the way she smiled at her captain."

Later, several times that afternoon, they heard Iraj chuckling to himself.

For no apparent reason.

* * *

The Murghab River was fed by melt waters from the great mountains to the east.

It started young, brave and strong as it entered the Kara-Kum Desert but somewhere in the long, dry, lonely stretches it became tired, until it was finally defeated. It failed to reach the Kaspian or the Aral seas, petering out ignominiously in lowlands of salt marsh and small brackish lakes, drying in the sun. Before it finally died, the river birthed a rich delta region and it was there that Margu (Merv) lay.

On the way to the city they had already passed many wealthy towns, villas and farms interspersed with desert. The cities and towns having been forced to move several times in their history as the sluggish delta changed course but the delta had been host to civilisation for thousands of years,.

To their left, as they travelled, there was a dry barren hill rising out of the plain, flat but sloping on top with a saddle in the middle. It was huge, dwarfing the great caravan strung out across the plain.

The highest point was at one end, crowned by the remains of some undefined structure looking like a wall but likely the side of a collapsed building.

"Further to the west, they call them 'tells'," Jess said, pointing to it. "It's the remains of an ancient city. They build the city on a hill for defence but over centuries dust, garbage and building rubble accumulate and raises the ground level. The newer parts of the town are built on top of the debris so the city builds up its own mound over time.

"The river probably changed course or it became too high to cart water and this site was finally abandoned. It doesn't rain here often but it does rain and much of the buildings are mud brick. The ruins finally melt like a sand castle washed over by the sea."

"Jess, you amaze me." Iraj twisted in his saddle. "I have ridden past this and climbed over it but never really thought about what it was, beyond being a handy lookout to catch the first glimpse of Margu. We call it Tepe Mouru, (Mouru Hill).

"Mouru is the name of a wondrous city described in the oldest of our legends, at the time of Zarathustra. Maybe this is where it once was. Well, if it is here, then there is not much left of fabled Mouru. Come and I'll show you the old lookout."

There were two roads to the top. One angled up to where the tracks of countless visitors had worn the saddle in the middle over many hundreds, maybe even thousands, of years. The other followed a somewhat steeper path to the very top. They left their camels with a friend from the caravan and Jess kicked her horse to take the steeper path at a run.

"I want to see what those ruins are."

"Whatever for?" Pandora moaned.

"This way! " Jess called out, galloping ahead.

Iraj took Rohana up the gentler way to the more usual lookout.

Several miles across the plains, past some ruins, they saw it: Margu, the great fortified city.

"Everything is so green!" Rohana said in surprise.

"We Aryans know how to irrigate." Iraj smiled, nudging his horse closer to hers.

"So much is gardens," Rohana said with delight. "Gardens, right here in the desert."

Even in the distance Rohana could pick fruit trees of all sorts: palms, of course, but also olive, pomegranate, pear, quince, walnut, fig and grapes on orderly trellises.

Finally, she could see the red flowers of pistachio trees.

There were also trees used for decoration: cypresses, junipers, ebony, rosewood, oak, tamarisk and ash all interspersed with meadows and colourful gardens.

"Don't you people eat much?" she asked.

Iraj laughed. "They have plenty of farms as well, but we Mazdayasna love our gardens. We believe the world has been corrupted. If we practice good thoughts, good deeds and good speech we will be led to live in Paradise in the afterlife.

"In the meantime, we try to build a paradise on earth. to remind us. The very word 'paradise' one of our names for behesht (heaven), comes from our word for garden, 'pairi-daeza'.

"There is a legend, that centuries ago the King of Babylon, Nebuchadnezzar, built great hanging gardens to please his Mada (Median, Persian) wife."

"That is so romantic!" Rohana said, her eyes sparkling. "That a man would love a woman so much he would build a wonder of the world for her. Much better than building a beautiful tomb, don't you think?"

Iraj laughed. "It is only a legend. Some say it was in Nanwa (Nineveh) and it was the Assyrian king Sennacherib and his Persian concubine. He was said to have an inscription carved in stone at the entrance to his palace.

"'For Tashmetu-sharrat, my beloved wife whose features the Mistress of the Gods has made perfect above all other women, I built a palace of loveliness, delight and joy."'

"That is so lovely." Rohana sighed. "Would you build such a thing for me if you were an emperor?"

"Of course! Mazdayasnas don't go in for burials and tombs. What we do is —"

"Iraj! I know what you Mazdayasnas do for funerals. I'm trying to be romantic."

"I could collect your bones afterwards, I suppose, and put them in a nice ossuary, some people do that at the one-year anniversary. Then I could visit them."

"Iraj, will you stop that?"

Iraj leaned across to pull her to him, half out of her saddle, for a kiss. Just then Jess and Pandora rode their horses down, showering them with a cloud of dust and sand.

"We couldn't see much," Jess said, disappointed. "There were lots of shards of pottery lying around and some sort of building but it is mostly collapsed. I think it might have been the wall of a palace."

"Or a cow barn," Pandora said in disgust. "I can't believe you made me ride all the way up there to look at shards of pottery."

"It couldn't have been a cow barn, Pandora."

"Jess, did you even look at Margu?" Rohana asked.

"Of course, I did," Jess said. "The city has a good wide moat and a fortified castle at one end. The walls stand about 25 metres up from the hill, all with crenulations, towers and sally ports. They look thick but they are mud brick.

"Modern siege weapons would make short work of them, well at least eventually, and how could they man such massive walls? The city must cover 20 hectares at least. The walls are for the city tax, or raiding tribesmen. They would be no good in a proper siege.

"Oh, the irrigation is incredible, but they seem to have too many flower gardens."

"Jess, there is more to a city than its military and the commercial aspects."

"Huh?"

"See what I mean?" Pandora called across to Rohana. "My girlfriend is so romantic. Stick to Iraj; at least he buys you flowers."

* * *

Half way to the city they passed a squat octahedral building with a single azure dome. There was a low wall around it and a tall decorative tower at the gateway (a common feature of Persian architecture).

The decorative entrance-tower had blue, light-blue and white tiles organized into geometrical patterns and the cuneiform (wedge shaped) Persian letters, all still in good condition.

"It is a tomb of one of the Šâhs from before Kūrus (Cyrus) took this whole region," Frashaoshtra said. "It is rumoured to be cursed. Grave robbers have tried to break into the crypt but they have found nothing, and later they all died."

"Serves them right!" Rohana said with a toss of her head.

Not much further along the road became flanked by fields.

From a distance, the city seemed to be on some sort of military alert. Warriors could be seen manning the gate and nearby walls and there were patrols coming and going.

Frashaoshtra led them to the eastern gate, the gate of Zal (named after the legendary Persian albino hero). There he hugged them again before bidding them farewell and going on his own way.

The guards were very interested in Jess. They were asked a lot of questions, and had to unload their animals and everything was checked. Eventually, after more than the turn of a glass, they were waved through.

"What is going on?" Iraj asked one of the locals as they were let go. He was an old man, standing idly to watch people come and go.

"Don't you know?" The man paused, thinking how to explain it. "The new emperor has ordered the arrest of our xsaçapavan (satrap, governor). It all started a couple of months ago. Now that we have peace with the Hun we can get back to our favourite sport of fighting amongst ourselves."

"What? This is right on the border!" Jess looked outraged. "How does he dare leave such an issue unresolved for months?"

The man laughed. "He has no intention of arresting him. Our satrap was appointed by the vizier, Bagoas. That's who the emperor really wants to challenge."

"Has the satrap or the vizier submitted?" Rohana asked.

"No," the man said. "Open warfare has not yet been declared but our satrap is out shoring up his support. They say the satrapies of Egypt and Babylonia would join us in revolt. If I were you, I wouldn't stay here too long. There has already been one attempt on Bagoas's life."

"Why did they take such interest in my friend?" Iraj asked.

The man shrugged. "They are doing that to anyone who looks different."

They thanked him and went in search of Shaheen, Syavash's contact in Margu.

He was a local grain merchant (and spy for the old Sâh of Xvairizem). His shop was close to the (southern) Jamshīd gate so they had to pass the great central square.

If Jess was not impressed with the mud brick fortifications it would be very hard indeed not to be impressed by the great city itself. It had suffered less than many other oasis cities. Not only was it very rich, everything about Margu was huge.

As they walked, leading their animals, Iraj tried to explain a little about the politics of Parśa, the Persian capital that the Greeks call Persepolis.

"The last three emperors have taken the name Artaxsaçra (Artaxerxes, 'perfect king'): Mnemon (Artaxerxes II), Ochus (Artaxerxes III) and now the latest Arses (Artaxerxes IV).

"Ochus (Artaxerxes III) lived well into his eighties and was a great general. He died a year ago but towards the end of his reign it was his vizier, Bagoi (Bagoas), who was the real ruler. Bagoas was the head eunuch and was one of Ochus's best generals and a most capable administrator. As you know, all kings prefer eunuchs."

"It is a horrible thing to do to a young boy!" Jess shuddered.

"It is only done to slave boys who show special ability." Iraj shrugged. "It gets them into royal service. Gelding young boys makes them loyal when they grow into men: they become less ambitious, they have no dynasty of their own and they cannot rule without a king behind them.

"Anyway, Ochus's father, Mnemon, was said to have over a hundred sons. Ochus had most of them killed when he took the throne. He didn't have as many sons himself but he lived such a long time that his best sons rebelled and were put to death.

"When he did die, the faction loyal to Bagoas elevated the youngest son, Arsan (Greek 'Arses'), to the throne and had the other surviving sons killed. It's not even been two years now and Arsan is already moving against Bagoas. He is being encouraged by ambitious men in his court who have grudges against Bagoas."

"What a mess," Rohana said.

"Yes, it is," Iraj admitted. "All anyone can hope for is that one kills the other before it breaks out into civil war, especially with the Hun sitting on their door step."

A little past the markets, they found themselves passing the high walls of a private garden. They couldn't see inside but they could hear the sound of running water accompanied by high pitched bird-whistles and incredibly sweet trills.