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

"Is that a nightingale?" Rohana asked.

"Yes, it is, though it is not as lovely as your singing," Iraj said as he gave Rohana a look of pure love. "Your voice is a gift from God.

"It is the male bird that sings to find his mate. Tonight, I will sing for you, Rohana."

Pandora thumped Jess in the middle of the back. "Why don't you say such things to me?"

"You want me to sing?"

"No, but some dancing, just for me, would be nice. You know the type of dance where you take your clothes off."

The main public square was huge of course, like everything in Margu.

It was open at one end and faced by three imposing buildings, each with usual Persian lofty entrances decorated with ceramic tiles. Each led to a large open half-dome with a more modest door set back up a few steps. The roofs of each building rippled with smaller domes.

"These are philosophy schools," Iraj told them. "The schools of Margu are famous throughout the known world. We call our public squares 'registan' which means 'sandy place'."

Rohana grabbed his arm. "I thought I just saw Firuza near that group of men over there."

"Who is Firuza?" Pandora asked.

"She was Phraotes's lover from Dilkor," Rohana said. "She started as a slave and became the second most powerful person in Dilkor. She wasn't the worst of them, but she lived like a princess. She has good reason to avoid us, let us just hope she does."

"She'd be a fool to advertise her presence," Iraj agreed. "But she has reason to hate us. The sooner we are back on the road to Nisa the better I will like it." They planned to cross the last of the Kara-Kum Desert to Nisa or nearby Konjikala and then cross the Koppeh Dagh ('Heap' Mountains) into the heart of Aryana (Persia).

They met Shaheen in a small office at the back of his warehouse. He looked worried.

Maybe he always looked worried.

He talked for some time about how difficult things were, but all that he said could have been summarized by "everything is unsettled. Leave as soon as you can."

Following his directions, they made their way towards a small caravanserai near the south gate. A guard patrol passed them, moving the other way.

As they reached a smaller public square, Firuza was there talking to a Mazdayasna (Zoroastrian) priest. She must have been following them. When she saw she was spotted she left, walking quickly.

The priest had a plain brown coat over his white robes and bare feet. He had a felt turban, hanging from which was a ‘padam’ the cloth that all the Mazdayasna priests wore across their mouth and nose to prevent any saliva from contaminating their sacred ceremonies.

He was looking straight at them and signalled to a small troop of town guards.

Its leader stepped into their path.

"I am Dah-bashi (Corporal) Behrouz of the city guard."

His name in Farsi (Persian) meant 'good day' but it didn't suit him. He had the look of a man who didn't smile a lot, maybe at funerals. Jess had a sinking feeling as he eyed her closely.

"Are you Jess Khanum (Lady Jess)? I have a warrant for your arrest under suspicion of being a changeling and I am to arrest Pandora Khanum for aiding you."

Rohana and Pandora froze in shock. Jess looked for escape routes without seeming to, another troop of soldiers across the square paused to watch what was going on.

"This is ridiculous!" Iraj protested.

The corporal was unmoved. "The accusation has been made and there is a warrant. She will be questioned by the Dastur (head priest) and appear before the Atash Dadgah (religious court)."

"What about that lady you were talking to?" Rohana said loudly. "She was involved in working with the slavers at Dilkor."

"That has nothing to do with us," the corporal said.

"You think so? They were capturing travellers including several from this city. I think she escaped with some of their money here."

"I will look for her later and question her," Corporal Behrouz reassured them. "In the meantime, Mobad (Teacher) Asruta here," he indicated the priest, "has a warrant for the arrest of Jess Khanum."

"Wait a minute!" Rohana stepped in front of him. "You can't arrest Pandora then. She is happy to give a statement, but you can't arrest someone as being an accessory to something that is unproven. You said yourself that she is not mentioned on the warrant."

"Ignore her," the priest demanded.

"No, honoured Mobad (Teacher)," Corporal Behrouz said. "I think she may have a point. All we have is a suspicion that she may be involved in what is currently only an accusation."

"You have been ordered to co-operate with us!" The priest was outraged.

"I'm sorry I have to take this matter to my Kuipan (superintendent of police)."

The corporal and his men were only doing their duty. Jess couldn't bring herself to kill them all, just for that. Besides, she was trapped in the middle of a city on military alert in broad daylight. She would be unlikely to be able to escape and any resistance would only get her friends killed... It looked like she would have to go quietly.

She passed her weapons to Iraj.

The corporal and five of his men got ready to take Pandora, her arms unbound, along with Iraj and Rohana. The rest bound Jess's hands behind her back and took her with the priest in a different direction.

"Don't worry, Jess!" Iraj called after her, "We will come for you."

The guards took Jess to an older part of the city, where they were met by five priests who took over. As they walked on, even Jess began to realise they were headed in the wrong direction.

"This isn't the way," she said.

With her hands bound behind her she couldn't duck as one of the priests swung a cudgel at her head.

"Careful," the head priest growled. "We don't want to have to carry her. It would arouse suspicion."

They pushed her down a narrow alleyway and through an overgrown entrance. It was a ruined manor house guarded by four large statues of winged lions with man-like heads, complete with the Persian square beards.

Beyond that was a covered corridor painted with frescoes of war, killing and rape.

I don’t think this is a religious court.

They hurried her through a room painted with images of fearsome beasts and then down two flights of wooden stairs into the basement. There was a narrow corridor with a number of rooms opening into it. She could hear the sound of water.

They had reached the level of the sewers.

She was pushed through a room with a large wooded table. It was stained dark and smelt of blood. Swords were pointed at her as her bonds were removed and she was prodded into the next room where there were six women prisoners sitting on a bench along one wall. The door slammed shut.

There was another locked iron door on one wall of the cell from which the soft sound of flowing water came. The only ventilation was slits in the door leading to the blood-stained room from which she had just come.

It was hard to breathe in the small crowded room with the stench from a sanitary bucket. Flies were buzzing backwards and forwards. The room darkened as their jailors closed the next door and exited through the blood-stained room.

* * *

The office of the city guard

The duty corporal, Bêndva, remained seated, studying a wax tablet, as Iraj, Rohana and Frashaoshtra were shown in. As soon as Frashaoshtra received the message that they were in trouble, he had hurried across the city to help them.

"You were correct in saying there are no charges against the Lady Pandora," Bêndva agreed, looking up. "We will allow Lady Rohana to attend her while we organise for her release. Please accept my apologies on any inconvenience caused."

That was easy, so far.

As Rohana was escorted in to see Pandora, Iraj leaned forward.

"Thank you, ser (Sir). But we also want to make enquiries about our other friend."

Bêndva looked as if he had bitten into something sour. "Are you aware of the allegations against her?"

"She has committed no crime!" Iraj interjected. His hand flew to the hilt of his akīnaka (Persian short sword) but it had been surrendered at the door.

"The Dastur (senior priest) himself issued a warrant," Bêndva said. "When the issue of sorcery is involved, he has every right to question her. If you wish to complain you must submit a deposition, but it will cost you five sigloi."

"What?" Iraj spluttered.

"Plus the cost of a scribe. We will refer it to the Atash Dadgah (Religious Court)."

"Who looks at them then there?" Iraj asked.

"One of the Dastur's subordinates."

Iraj's reply was interrupted by the door bursting open. A large beefy man in his fifties strode confidently in.

Bêndva almost knocked his chair over in his haste to stand up and salute.

"I hope you are giving these people every co-operation, Bêndva? Good. Good."

"Who's that?" Iraj whispered to Frashaoshtra.

"Someone who doesn't have to knock?" Frashaoshtra suggested.

"My name is Bahadur," the man said in a loud voice. "I am the Kuipan (superintendent of police). You need to come with me. We have to see the Dastur immediately. Your ladies are juddin (non-believers) and cannot come, but they will be taken to my home.

"They will be safe there."

"Safe?" Iraj asked.

"Yes, when you protested Pandora's arrest you likely saved her life. I'm sorry, we have to hurry."

"What about Jess?"

"I really am sorry," Bahadur repeated, looking grim and shaking his head. "We will tell you what we know once we get to the temple."

As they were being shown out Pandora was waiting near the entrance to a side room looking very pale. Rohana was standing nearby.

"Iraj, I hear Jess is in some sort of danger," Pandora said.

Someone was passing Iraj his sword.

"We will do all we can for your friend," Bahadur said, "But there is not a moment to lose."

"Just get her back, please," Pandora called to them as they hurried past. "Just get her back."

After a hurried trip, almost jogging the whole way, they were bustled into a large audience chamber in the temple. They were hardly seated when an elderly priest burst in flanked by a large contingent of temple guards.

He held a large ceremonial mace the height of a staff.

Iraj, Frashaoshtra and Bahadur automatically dropped to their knees and bowed their heads.

"Holy one," they murmured in unison as he made the sign of a blessing.

This was Dångha, the Dastur (Holy Father) of one of only three of the greatest fire temples. He was the third most powerful man in all of the Mazdayasna (Zoroastrian) religion.

"This is very serious," he said as they sat.

"Holy one, we want to arrange the release of our friend," Iraj said respectfully. "Frashaoshtra here will bear witness that she helped rescue innocent men in Dilkor."

"I know about Dilkor," the Dastur's expression was hidden by his padan (priestly mask), but his voice hard. "Do you deny the accusations against her?"

"It is only gossip," Frashaoshtra said.

Iraj was silent.

"Can she be released to my care?" Frashaoshtra continued. "My family has a good name."

"That would not be possible until I question her." Dångha leaned forward. "In any case, we do not have her."

* * *

Jess captive

Most of the women in the small cell were prostitutes who had been trying to avoid the city tax, or petty thieves. The woman sitting next to her was called Niloofar (water lily).

"I'm accused of stealing a purse, but it was planted on me," she explained.

Most of the room's other occupants joined in to explain how they were also arrested on various misunderstandings. "I've never heard of this place," Niloofar added, twisting her hands over and over. "And there are stories of women disappearing."

You are right to be worried, Niloofar.

There was a scream outside and another woman was thrown in.

Jess looked down at the face of the newcomer. "Hello, Firuza."

Firuza threw herself at Jess, scratching and trying to punch her. Jess just held her by the wrists. Firuza wasn't very big and she wasn't really hurting her.

Eventually some of the other women pulled her off and Firuza crawled over to sit as far away from Jess as she could get.

It wasn't long after a man in the uniform of the city guards took Firuza away for questioning. It seemed to take a long time. They had to carry her back, a guard on either side. Jess moved over closer, and some of the others looked at her curiously.

"What happened?"

Firuza's face was badly bruised and her lip was bleeding.

"They wanted to know about you. I couldn't really tell them much. Then they wanted to know where I keep my money. These aren't normal guards, are they?"

"No, Firuza, I'm sorry but they are not. I have a little ability at healing. If you allow me, I will ease your hurts."

"You would do that for me?"

Why not? We are going to die here anyway.

"Of course, I would." Jess gave her a gentle smile.

* * *

The Zoroastrian Fire temple

"You don't know where Jess is?" Iraj leapt to his feet in fear and anger.

"Calm yourself," Bahadur asked. "Sit down and allow us to tell you what we do know, and what we are doing to try and find her."

The Dastur took up the story. "When Ahura Mazda, the spirit of asa (goodness), created the world it was perfect. Angra Mainyu, the evil one, brought druj (evil, corruption, the lie, destruction, sin) into the world."

Iraj scowled at him. He didn't want a religious lesson at a time like this!

But the Dastur was getting to the point.

"When our people were strong and prosperous we, the keepers of the sacred flame, were also very strong.

"Now there is chaos everywhere and enemies we thought we had destroyed have returned. I first saw Jess in a dream. I didn't recognise its significance at the time.

"She has been hidden from my far sight, which is unusual, but I have managed to follow her through omens and other signs. I didn't know that our great enemy was also hunting her."

"Chandyr!" Iraj whispered.

"You know about that, do you?" Dångha asked in surprise. "Jess faced a powerful sorcerer, a priest of Aesma (Aeshma). Aesma of the bloody mace is the most powerful of all the daēva (false gods)."

"She broke his neck," Iraj admitted.

"She should not have been able to do that. She isn't completely human, is she, Iraj?"

Iraj sighed, the tension drained out of him. "No, she's not, Holy One."

He felt he had just condemned his friend to death.

"I already knew that, which is why I needed to question her. So, I issued a warrant but the priest who carried it was waylaid and murdered."

"The priest that took her was an imposter?" Iraj cried in anguish.

The Dastur nodded, looking very grim.

"Women have begun disappearing. We suspected blood priests had come to our city, but capturing your friend in front of our noses is their most audacious act yet.

"They must have been desperate to come out of the shadows."

"Jess hurt them badly." Iraj gave the Dastur a sad smile and his eyes misted. "She tends to do that sort of thing."

"They will want her to join them," Dångha said. "With her on their side, they would be near invincible."

"Jess would never do that." Iraj shook his head firmly. "She only ever fights evil."

"You think well of her."

"Holy one," Iraj stood up. "If she needed my right arm, I would cut it off for her. If she needed my eye, I would pluck it out. If I had to give my life for her I would gladly do so and count myself blessed to be asked. I am honoured to know her. Does that answer your question?"

"Holy one, I don't care if she is human or not." Frashaoshtra joined him in standing. "She saved me from a living death as a slave, me and many others."

"Well," the Dastur said quietly. "She has two good men who are willing to speak out for her, at possible risk to themselves." His smile robbed the comment of any threat. "But if she doesn't join them, they will kill her."

"We know where they were last seen, and there are only a few places they can be," Bahadur said. "But if my men will be facing priests of Aesma, we will need your help, Holy One."

The Dastur lifted the ancient mace. "This is the mace of Mithra (the ancient God of justice, the greatest of all the archangels). The minions of Aesma cannot stand against its power."

"Can we come?" Iraj asked.

"Yes, we might need you to identify your friend."

Identify the body.

Jess, no! Not Jess!

* * *

The captives

They took another woman away.

First two guards came in and pushed Jess up against the wall. One held a knife at her throat and the other poked her torso with his naked blade. Then two others came for the woman.

Firuza and another woman led the others in an attempt to prevent them taking her. They almost overpowered the two guards with their bare hands but the men beat them back with cudgels and then dragged the woman, screaming, away with them.

The women lay there, bruised and bleeding, listening in horror to the screams of agony and terror from next door. Many of them put hands over their ears and bent their heads. Most were crying.

Eventually the cries from the other room subsided into moaning. Then they stopped. There was the sound of men moving about, a door opened on creaking iron hinges and their was a soft splash.

Then they came for Jess.

"Just let them take me," she said to the others.

Anyway, the fight had gone out of her companions.

Two men waited with drawn swords, while another two men chained her hands behind her back and hobbled her ankles.

As they led her through the room next door, one man was wiping blood off the table.

These were death priests.

They used the energy a tortured victim released at the time of their death to feed their magic power. Sometimes they bound a woman to their God in death as one of his 'brides'.

She was led through another room to where a man was seated comfortably behind a desk. He was dressed as a simple scholar: a white turban, a white vest showing under a brown robe. He had a beard trimmed short, a rather thin face and a pair of the coldest eyes Jess had ever seen.

He rose as she entered and bowed. The guards waited just behind her.

"Ah, Jess Khanum, it is an honour. My name is Tishari."

"Forgive me for not greeting you as I would wish," Jess said politely, glancing meaningfully at the chains on her feet.

Behind him was a life-sized marble statue, in the Greek style. It was of a naked young man, heavily muscled and handsome. His hair was short and curly and he was beardless. He was standing holding a shield at his feet and a spear in his hand, with a Greek helmet. The wall behind was pink, white wash mixed with blood, very pretty.

It had a quote written in Greek in black ink.

'Rejoicing in bloody wars; fierce and untamed, he is the one whose mighty power can make the strongest walls shake. Mortal-destroying, defiled with gore, pleased with war's dreadful and tumultuous roar. Human blood, swords and spears delight him. He loves ruin, the savage fight, furious contests and avenging strife. He visits misery on human life."

Jess shuddered. It was Ares, the Thráki God of War.

Tishari saw the direction of her gaze.

"I like to think I have made quite a study of Greek culture," he said.

It was strange. He could smile and still look so cold.

"We do not make images of our God, but it is hard not to admire the beauty of Greek sculptures, don't you think?"

"You worship Agin," Jess whispered.

Agin the brutal Skythian God of War; a picture of a great mound and the life blood of captives poured over an iron sword came into her mind.

"We prefer the more civilised local name for him, Aesma. Was it you at Chandyr?"

So, this is the God of that bastard in Chandyr. It figured, whatever you called him: Ares, Agin or Aesma, he was a mad and brutal God.

Jess's expression gave him his answer.

"If you designed the perfect warrior what characteristics would you choose?"

The question took Jess by surprise. She moved restlessly for a moment, her chains clanking. Was Tishari just as crazy as the God he worshipped? It might be better to humour him, especially as Jess was the one bound in chains.

"Er, let's see; strong and tireless, brave of course, skilful and loyal."

How am I doing?

"My God can give you all these things and more!" Tishari leapt up in enthusiasm and gestured to the statue. "You are already a great warrior. Join us and we can make you stronger than you could possibly imagine. You will be invincible."

"But doesn't your God delight in bloodshed for its own sake and the rape and murder of innocents?"

The furious look on Tishari's face suggested he didn't like awkward questions.

Perhaps I should just keep them to myself.

"Aesma is the God of War! Of course, he delights in war. He cannot be judged by the worthless emotions of puny mortals. He can give you real power. Join us and we will make you even stronger and your heart completely fearless."

"Fearless ... and without compassion," Jess replied. "That helpless woman you tortured to death, is that the sort of thing your God tells you to do?"

And why can't I keep my stupid mouth shut, like around about now?

"He is a God!" Tishari was outraged. "Those women are whores and thieves, by their death they will join HIM in honour."

It was then that Jess realised she would rather side with the whores and thieves. What does that say about me?

"You remind me of those snivelling Mazdayasna dogs."

She definitely wasn't handling this well.

"You are mortal and can be killed," he warned her.

Now, why would there be any doubt about that?

"Ha! I see you are curious about what I know. I know who you are, and I know what you are. I also know what happened to that Gypsy girl. Without you she can't return. It is rather amusing really."

"And you are going to tell me, just because you are such a dear, dear, man."

He looked at her puzzled, and then he burst out laughing.

"Oh, I see. Join us, knowledge and power can be yours for the asking."

"Why don't you have someone take these chains off so I can give you my answer properly?" Jess gave him a sweet smile.

Tishari strode over and slapped her hard across the face.

She tasted blood.

"You are wasting my time, and time is something I no longer have. The city is crawling with soldiers and priests looking for you. I didn't expect that. Of course, they will probably kill you when they find you, but it wouldn't do for us to take a chance on that, would it?"

Margu seems such a friendly place.

"No time to do this slowly, I'm afraid."

One of his acolytes offered him a long and slender knife on a red silk cushion.

"Jess!" Jacinta's voice shouted in Jess's head. "He is going to cut your throat! Get him to throw you in the sewer instead. All you have to do is slow your body down."

"Jacinta, is that you? I don't know how to slow my body down."

"Then take a deep breath and let me do the rest."

"Just as long as you don't throw me in that filthy sewer," Jess screamed, shuddering violently. She tried to look terrified. It wasn't too hard.

Tishari's smiling face moved closer.

She tried not to upset him by spitting at him or lunging at him with her hands bound behind her back. Instead she cringed away, trying to look defeated.

Maybe she was.

"What a good idea! I was going to cut your throat but that would be too quick. The water and cold will weaken your daimôn nature and drowning is an excellent way for you to die. It is as slow as we can hope for under the circumstances, with your body fighting for air."

He gestured to his acolytes, who took turns to fondle her breasts and jam their fingers up her vagina while one of their number cleared the way to the sewer.

"I'm going to kill you, you know," she told them, conversationally.

One of the men twisted her nipple cruelly. "You have to live to be able to do that."

One man hit her over the head with his cudgel. I wish they would stop doing that.

Then they shoved her back to the other room. The iron gate to the sewage canal was open. There were a few stone steps down to it and a narrow boat waited in the canal.

That's when they all heard loud banging on the door.

"Open up in the name of the Dastur!"

A priest's smiling face came close to hers.

"Unless they have brought a ram, which I very much doubt, it will take a long time for them to get through that door which is very solid. It is time you simply do not have."

She didn't answer. She felt her mind slowing down, serenity floating through her.

They shoved her hard at the canal. Hobbled by the chain, she missed the steps and crashed face forward onto the stone surrounds of the sewer-canal, leaving a smear of blood, loosening a tooth and bruising her cheek.

The acolytes followed her down. They kicked and shoved at her body till it tumbled over the edge. She was blinded by the splash of dark water closing over her head. She twisted and squirmed so she would sink onto her back.

Her eyes clicked in. She could see the surface rippling above her, bubbles still rising up to it. Up there she could breathe. It may as well have been on the other side of the moon.

The boat rocked as the men climbed inside. She got poked in the face by one of the oars and then they were gone.

"Open up in the name of the Dastur." It was faint, and very far away.

All she could feel was a burning, irresistible urge to open her mouth wide and suck in a deep breath of water.

* * *

A desperate ride

The Dastur was not too old to ride, in fact he was an excellent horseman.

Iraj found himself careening through the streets following the Dastur and the Kuipan, Bahadur. Four Mazdayasna (Zoroastrian) priests and a dozen city guards followed closely behind, yelling themselves hoarse for people to get out of the way.

He wondered if the priests and the city guards engaged in regular horse races against each other the way they rode. His own borrowed horse seemed completely out of control but his own heart was burning for Jess so he let the animal have its head.

Apparently, they had been moving closer to an older section of the city as they narrowed the search area. Then there was a frantic message. Someone had seen where they had taken Jess.

The small party arrived outside the old town house in a clatter of hooves. As they arrived, four men ran from the cover of building.

"Dah-bashi!" Bahadur yelled out commandingly.

His corporal and six men smoothly turned their horses to give chase. The rest threw themselves off their horses and hurried after the Dastur.

They burst through a gate, past some winged lions with human faces.

"Hurry," the Dastur said from just behind Iraj and Bahadur.

Normally Iraj would suggest a cautious approach, but he found himself barrelling madly down a corridor covered with images of violence.

Three men jumped out to stop them, Iraj and Bahadur barely paused. They punched their akīnakes savagely into the men and threw them aside while the Dastur hit the other man over the head with his staff.

"That's what it's for," the old man said with a broad smile; he seemed to be enjoying himself tremendously.

They burst through another room. Bahadur seemed to know where he was going, down stairs to a heavy locked door. Bahadur kicked at it and rattled the handle.

"Open up in the name of the Dastur."

The Dastur caught up, clutching at his chest.

Iraj grabbed his mace.

"That is over three hundred years old!" the Dastur protested while trying to get his breath. "You can't just use it on a door."

"You can use it on people," Iraj said. "As you said, it was made for this moment."

A few solid blows and the hinges began to loosen. Then Iraj rammed the precious mace through a gap in the door and gave a mighty wrench. The door sprang open.

"We have missed them," one of the guards cursed. "Let's see if your friend is in the cell."

"The sewer!" Niloofar and Firuza were screaming over and over. "They threw her in the sewer!"

Iraj followed the smear of blood on the stone and leapt into the water. He immediately felt a body at his feet. One of the guards jumped in next to him and they struggled to lift the body up and onto the floor.

Jess's head lolled lifelessly; foul water ran from her mouth.

"She is dead!" Iraj screamed in anguish.

He felt like he had been stabbed in his heart.

"Not yet, but very close," the Dastur shouted.

He nodded to his priests. Two of them rolled her, another jammed his finger down her throat to hook out any mud and slime.

Then they began violently pushing up and down on her chest. Water oozed from the corner of her mouth, then her body spasmed. They rolled her on her side. She whooped and vomited and coughed weakly.

"I don't think she will survive," one of them said.

"Please don't hurt her," Frashaoshtra pleaded.

"Yes, I suppose it would seem a shame to go to all this trouble just to execute her," the Dastur gave him a gentle smile.

* * *

The Zoroastrian fire temple complex

"You are awake."

She was propped up sitting. Jess ineffectually waved her arms in an effort to sit up further.

"No, just lie back. You had foul water in your lungs. We didn't expect you to survive, you still may not."

From next door there was the sound of chanting and running water. The Mazdayasna priests with their knowledge of corruption and how to combat it were the greatest healers in the human world.

"Something about this place feels so wonderful," Jess whispered tiredly. "It's as if healing is in the very air."

"That is a strange reaction for one accused of being evil." A vigorous looking white haired old man had just entered the room with two attendants. It was as if he were waiting next door for her to wake.

All three were dressed in brilliant white. They had the cloths hanging from their turbans covering their mouths that all the priests wore.

These are the real thing, Jess realised.

"I am Dångha, the Dastur (high priest) of this temple. I have been waiting for a long time to meet you. You have proven, shall we say, elusive?"

"Thank you for saving my life, Holy One. The other women ... ?"

'The surviving ones are safe, unfortunately the most senior of the priests of the Aesma-daēva escaped. One of the women, Firuza, was involved with the slavers of Dilkor. Perhaps the punishment I should give her should be particularly harsh."

"Please, Holy One, show mercy. She was only a slave girl trying to survive. Please let her go."

"What about falsely accusing you of being a changeling? That is a serious matter, surely, is it not?"

Jess sighed. "Firuza is speaking the truth, I am unclean. I shouldn't be here; I cannot presume to call you Father."

"I see." Dångha's eyes burned into her. "She has retracted the accusation, saying she was forced to make it by the false priests."

"She is lying to protect me," Jess said. "Please forgive her."

"I thought you two were enemies, but she is trying to protect you and you put yourself at risk to protect her. Don't you find this all a little strange?"

His eyes seemed to penetrate into her very soul. "Daughter, are you prepared to confess to me and accept my judgement?"

"I am, Holy One." Tears came to her eyes. "I have no right to ask this, Holy One, but please spare my friends. Their only crime has been to show me kindness, beyond what I deserve."

"You stand accused of being a changeling. Is that true?"

"Yes, I am part daimôn. I try to resist what I am; I am sorry to be evil."

"Would you work for truth, honesty, loyalty and courage? Or would you tell lies and support corruption and destruction?"

He drew himself up. "Tell me!" he demanded.

She felt the compulsion to answer. "The truth of course! All those things. And I like to bathe, you can ask my friends."

Dångha seemed to be resisting a smile behind his padan (mask). "Are you ready?"

"To confess?" Jess sighed as if she were lowering a great burden from her shoulders. Such was the air in this place and the stare of the high priest that she knew she would tell all she could. "I wish to, great one. Can I tell my story from the beginning?"

After a nod from the Dastur, she continued.

"I think I was attacked by a sorcerer, it was he that damaged my hand I think but the memory is very faint. I think it was he that put a curse on me that made me a changeling.

"More than a year and a half ago I woke to myself in the desert. I was not human; I ate small animals, snakes and lizards that came out at night. Slowly I seemed to recall the things that belong to humans but almost nothing about me as a person, who I was."

Then the long questioning began.

Why did you buy a slave's freedom, someone you had just met? Why did you kill the three men who were to rape your friend? Why did you kill the men that killed Katin, when you didn't even know her? Why didn't you attack the town guards when they came to arrest you? Why did you risk your life for people you didn't know?

At that Jess struggled up. "Those slavers were destroying people's lives."

"Were you angry with them?"

"I don't feel I have a right to judge people, but I felt a great hunger to stop them, yes. I can be very destructive when I fight."

He made no reply to that.

"Weren't you invited to join the worshippers of Aesma; didn't they promise you great things?"

"But you don't understand! They were going to torture and murder those poor women. I was bound by chains but all I wanted to do was to get free so I could attack them.

"Oh, I don't feel like that here," Jess said, looking around.

"Perhaps that is a good thing." again, the Dastur looked like he was smiling behind his padan.

"You think you were attacked by a sorcerer." He changed the topic.

"Yes," Jess held up her hand. "I think so."

"And you say you have the power of healing?"

"No, ser, that power belongs to a God; I am not worthy of having such a power myself."

Jess felt herself dozing. "Are you going to kill me, now?"

"I believe you have told me the truth, at least the truth as far as you know it." He gave her a sad smile as if he pitied her. "We Mazdayasnas do not judge beings by what they claim to be. We judge them by their speech and deeds.

"I believe you are one of the farohars, a fravashi or guardian angel, sent to our earth."

"Fravashi?"

"Yes, our God Ahura Mazda does not act directly in this world. To defeat the druj (falsehood and destruction) he needs humans to choose to follow asha (truth, righteousness and proper order). That is why corruption and unclean spirits can have no power over us in our temple.

"But other battles must be fought with other weapons. There are the six great Amesha Spentas (archangels), then there are the yazatas (angels) and beneath them are the farohars (plural)."

"You believe I am a guardian angel?"

"I do, most fravashi come from the essence that Ahura Mazda has put in all the things of this world to guide its evolution: animate or inanimate. Many are attached to human souls as guides and protectors against the spite of daēva.

"But a few fravashi are different, created out of the substance of heaven itself and working to complete and preserve God's plan for heaven. Those fravashi can be chosen to descend in human form. That is what I think you are. It is a great honour to be chosen, but it is also a great trial."

"So, you think I am a fravashi." Jess had to smile. "I apologise, ser, but I wouldn't call myself an angel." She covered her smile. "I do now believe I was sent by a God but I am unworthy; it was supposed to be Jacinta, only she got killed."

And yet she still talks to me.

"Maybe I was made in a hurry, which is why I don't have proper memories."

"Angels are not always gentle when they have to fight our enemies." Dångha looked amused. "And as unworthy as you feel, there is only one true God and he does not make mistakes. I fear the indications are that you have been chosen to face something infinitely terrible. While a juddin (a non-believer) is not normally allowed in our temple, I think it will be safer for you to stay here while you recover and we hunt these conspirators."

"Thank you," Jess began to cry. "It feels so wonderful to be here."

"I certainly don't think something truly evil would think so." He smiled. "You were destined to come here. I saw this in a dream. Tomorrow we will talk again."

Jess couldn't keep her eyes open any longer.

* * *

Jess woke to daylight and chanting. The same priest was watching over her.

Her nose was blocked, her mouth dry, she ached all over and her head was pounding.

She couldn't get enough air and could feel her lungs bubbling and rumbling as she breathed. She was overcome with a bout of coughing till she was exhausted and her head was spinning. She weakly spat a glob of thick yellow mucous into a shallow bowl the priest (whose name she later found out was Darius) passed her.

"That is good!" he remarked with satisfaction.

She lay there, too weak to move.

With a call from Darius, two burley priests bustled in and quickly rolled her on her front, head down, and positioned pillows underneath. Then they cheerfully beat her to death with their open palms.

She was draped, head tilted down, naked and helpless, hawking up phlegm.

They exited, leaving her slumped over the cushions like a stranded fish.

"That is much better, isn't it?" Darius asked after they left.

Jess tried to scowl but couldn't get her eyes to focus.

"Your body is wonderful. Normal bodies do not produce phlegm like that until the third day at the earliest."

And I thought you were going to say my body was wonderful for other reasons.

"I think you might live after all," he decided. "If so, I will lose some money on a bet, but not too much. I really didn't think you would survive when we washed you down."

Jess couldn't remember this particular group of men washing her naked body.

He moved closer to feel her forehead.

"A temperature, but not too high." Then he felt her pulse. "Oh, very good! Now take a deep breath."

It set her coughing again.

"Better and better," he remarked with satisfaction. "We use this room if any of our priests get sick with the fever. Sorry you won't be allowed to move into any other areas of the fire temple with all that corruption in your chest."

What a pity, I really wanted to get up and dance around right now.

Perhaps Dångha spent all his time waiting just outside her room. As the door opened to let him through, the chanting sounded briefly louder. The scent of sandalwood and frankincense wafted in as he moved near her bed.

Jess tried feebly to grab at a blanket. The strong hands of his two assistants rolled her over and lifted her up in the bed and lay a blanket over her nakedness.

"Sorry we cannot allow your women friends to attend you here."

"Being attended by the famous Mazdayasna priests is not something I can complain about, Holy One." Jess gave a weak smile.

"Later we will perform a purification ceremony for you with fire and water."

"You use fire a lot in your ceremonies, ser (sir)," Jess remembered.

"Ah, must I tell you a little of our religious politics? You may be surprised that belief can have politics as well, but it is so.

"Zarathustra was a great reformer. He lived to the north and east of here. Over time our religion has incorporated beliefs of the past and added new beliefs. When our beliefs reached the Magi, the priestly caste of the Medes (in Persia), they met an influential and educated hereditary priesthood.

"The Magi worshipped Mithra as their major God, we see him now as the greatest of our archangels and they also worshiped the four holy elements: ateshi (fire), badi (air), abi (water), and heki (earth). We Mazdayasnas may have conquered the Magi with our beliefs, but they conquered us with their rituals. We would never admit that many of our rituals have their roots in fire worship."

"But I find hearing the chanting so restful!" Jess protested. "I can never remember feeling so safe and comforted."

"It is not just the content, it is also the tone," Dångha agreed. "We call the chanting 'a manthra' ."

"It moves me strongly," Jess whispered.

"As it does me, it has special power over the druj and daēva."

"I don't fully understand your beliefs."

"Not fully understand?" the Dastur smiled. "Nor do I, but this part is simple: when our God created the world it was perfect. The Angra Mainyu brought corruption and lies into it. The duty of all of us is to fight the druj until the time of the final battle of good and evil and the final judgement which will restore his creation."

"The blood priests are your natural enemies. I should have realised that."

Dångha nodded. "Our great Khordad (prophet) Zarathustra said to reject all beings who do not work for good. It is why we call ours 'the good religion'."

"The Greeks think you are sorcerers."

Dångha laughed. "I suspect if they came here they would want to burn our books like all the other conquerors, but the Greeks have a fascination with mystery cults and anything purported to be from an eastern religion: astrologers, horoscopes, the philosopher's stone, alchemy, or fountains of eternal life.

"If you want to make money just go to the Hellas and write fake scrolls. The Greeks will buy them. They call our imagined sorcery 'magikos', after the magâuno (Magi)."

"Yet you have a power, and you have wisdom," Jess whispered. "I can feel it."

"Our greatest power is the power of prayer, and the help that our God sends us," Dångha said. "And now our God has sent one of his soldiers to help us, but I think you need to rest for now."

That night she was restless, often woken by breathlessness and seemingly endless bouts of coughing. Her whole body ached. One minute she couldn't get warm, no matter how much she shivered; the next minute her body was covered with drenching sweats. She lay, in the darkness, longing for the dawn.

The priest who tended her throughout the night finally left. Dawn brought the heat of the day. She lay there coughing, weak, feverish and headachy ... and longing for the cool of the night.

Not a good way to live your life, Jess.

Darius strode in looking energetic and cheerful. "Good morning."

She looked at him with bleary eyes.

"Are you ready for your chest percussion?" He rang a small bell.

"No!" Jess said weakly, shaking her head.

The two muscular priests came in, grinning at her broadly. Now that she could see them they were built like wrestlers.

She cast about for a means of escape but they were onto her. They lifted her and rolled her over as if she were a small child, jamming great cushions underneath and pounding them into position. Then they began to play her chest as if they were drummers and she was a wooden drum at a mighty celebration. They wore wide grins. The fact that very little phlegm came up didn't dampen their enthusiasm.

"She may not need much more of this," one of them remarked somewhat regretfully.

They left her draped and gasping over the pillows in case that very last bit of elusive mucous might be hiding somewhere in the bottom of her chest.

Jess wondered what they did when they didn't have her to bash around. Perhaps they punched bulls unconscious or broke rocks barehanded.

Darius gave her a few moments and then felt her forehead and pulse and gave a satisfied smile. "You are better."

Jess was instantly asleep.

* * *

Rohana and Pandora, the Super-intendant's house

Rohana sat in the room she shared with Pandora to bring her friend up to date.

Iraj was staying in the guard's barracks nearby and came every day to escort Rohana out, but for Pandora it was judged to be too dangerous; so poor Pandora was confined to the house.

She didn't cope well with boredom at the best of times. Now she was worried about Jess and was missing her desperately. She felt she was going insane. Rohana offered to stay home and keep her company but Pandora insisted she spend time with her man while she had the chance.

"Iraj says he hasn't been able to see Jess. He has been so worried about her, we all have. We should be able to visit soon," Rohana said. "The Dastur knows she is a changeling, he won't discuss it in any detail but he assures Iraj she isn't in any trouble from him or the temple."

"Are you going to become a Mazdayasna?" Pandora asked, changing the topic.

"I think so," Rohana said. "Iraj is taking us back to his parents' home, at least for a while. With what Jess has been paying him he could stay and buy his own herd. I hope he does. I have just found him. I don't want him going off somewhere as a mercenary expecting me to stay at home and wonder if he had gotten himself killed somewhere."

She smiled. "That doesn't sound like me. I think I would become a camp follower if he became a mercenary."

They both giggled at that. Female camp followers had a very bad reputation.

* * *

It was four days later that Iraj escorted them into one of the small gardens of the temple that was open to the general public. Unlike most Persian buildings, fire temples (by tradition) were built to look plain on the outside. This one, though, held one of the three eternal fires. It was bigger than normal.

They waited in a pleasant garden of grass and beds of flowers, all hand watered. A nearby stand of cypress pines had coloured wish-ribbons tied all over them. A small fountain tinkled in the background.

Jess had to be assisted in by two burley priests. Aa they left her on a stone bench, she slumped forward. A blanket was draped over her shoulders despite the heat.

She had lost a lot of weight. Her skin looked a muddy colour, probably as close to pale as she ever got.

"You're looking well," Pandora said, moving closer to hug her.

That got a wan smile.

"Most of the senior priests were sure I wouldn't survive. The Dastur made a tidy profit from them. They should have known better than to bet against someone with the sight."

"They know you are a changeling," Pandora said. "Surely you didn't admit to it?"

Jess nodded weakly. "I expected to be killed."

"Are you a prisoner?" Rohana asked.

"No, nothing like that." Jess laughed. "The Dastur believes I am one of the fravashis, a guardian angel. There are supposed to be a large host of us. To be chosen to descend to the earth is said to be a great honour and a rare one." She smiled, embarrassed. "Oh and fravashis are known for their fighting prowess."

"A guardian angel!" Pandora was delighted. "My girlfriend is a guardian angel!"

Iraj stood and gave her a very low bow. "Arda Fravash (Holy Guardian Angel)," he said solemnly. Jess was shocked to realise he was absolutely serious.

"I must say I knew it had to be something like that not long after I met you." he said. "It is a great honour for me to know you."

"Er, thanks Iraj."

She would have preferred his teasing.

Iraj pointed to a carving on the internal wall of the garden. It looked like the winged sun, a disc with a bird's tail and two great horizontal wings coming off it. Standing up from the circle side-on was the figure of a Persian man with a beard and a Persian hat. In his left hand he held a ring. It was the most famous of all symbols of Mazdayasnaism (Zoroastrianism).

"That is the male version of a fravashi but more of them are female."

"I don't care what you think I am, Iraj, as long as you don't stop treating me as your friend," Jess said. "I need my friends."

They hugged her and kissed her each in turns, which brought tears to her eyes.

"Can I call you 'holy one' sometimes?" Pandora asked.

* * *

Tishari

"She survived!" Tishari spat.

He had spies in the fire temple but he had no need of them.

In Margu people could hardly talk about anything else: blood priests serving Aesma, a city-wide hunt by the town guard, senior priests and guards in a desperate mercy dash to rescue women from a dungeon and finally a mystery woman dragged from the sewer, more dead than alive.

It was the sort of story that would fuel gossip and legends for many years to come.

It was rumoured already that the woman was a female warrior and had previously helped free Dilkor from the slavers and Chandyr from the blood priests.

"I'm sorry, Holy One," Vanâra, his senior acolyte, said automatically.

"Cold water should have been one of the worst things for her." Tishari stopped pacing. "It should have taken them too long to find her." He gave one of his cold smiles. "She tricked me."

It had all started with some shepherds who had been found killed and they suspected a supernatural creature. Then in Chandyr. someone had killed Horkan. Horkan had been one of their most powerful of their sorcerers, he was virtually invulnerable.

Almost, but not quite.

Try as he might, Tishari had been unable to trace who or what had done it. There was something out there, something very dangerous that was protected from his far sight.

It wasn't until Dilkor that he found out what he was facing. A daimôn changeling. Even in human form she was a formidable fighter. And who knew what magic power she had as well?

A daimôn, she would obviously want to join them and used properly, she alone would turn the battle against the Mazdayasnas.

When he finally met her, something had happened to her memory and she had tried to wall off her daimôn self from her human side. Her power would be immense if that was released. All she had to do was join with Aesma.

She could not, she would not, refuse.

And yet, incredibly, she had!

She carped on about innocent victims of war.

He remembered her look of loathing.

Surely a daimôn wouldn't worry about such things?

And now to make it a complete disaster, not only had they not managed to kill her but she had formed an alliance with his worst enemies.

One day she would come looking for him.

"I cannot trace her, so there is not much we can do for the moment, but we know who her friends are and what they look like. If they leave her protection, we can track them. She is soft-thinking. She will come to their rescue.

"Then all we need to do is chose the field of battle and find a way to kill her."

* * *

Jess was getting better every day but she was still very weak.

She had ways of healing herself, but something told her that accessing her daimôn energy was too dangerous whilst her human side was so massively depleted.

Today she was dressed in a white gown supplied by the priests but wore a short blanket over her shoulders, and she was hobbling slowly back and forward in front of the seated Dastur.

"Your recovery is remarkable," Dångha said. "Are you always this restless?"

"I am used to training most days." Jess flashed him a grin. "And I have a strong feeling I should leave as soon as possible."

"You are nowhere near recovered enough."

"Soon I will be able to use the healing power on myself, but I have been too ill so far."

"If you insist, I will give you an armed escort as far as the Koppeh Dagh ('Heap' Mountains) and letters of introduction. Beyond Aryana, though, I have little influence."

"You have already done so much for me, Father," Jess said, kneeling down in front of him. "This place feels like a home to me."

"In a way, it is your home. You will always be welcome here."

"Thank you, Father, but I don't think my fate is to remain in a place of quiet contemplation."

"We sometimes have our own times of excitement, Jess."

Jess gave him a small smile and then frowned. "I feel a growing sense of unease inside of me. I know I need to hurry, but I don't understand why."

"Then you must leave, truly. I hear Gansükh has made plans to train more daimôn summoners."

Jess shivered. "Hasn't he done enough?" She looked at her hand. "I don't think this will destroy daimôns."

"You sound sure."

"I can't be sure, of course I can't, but I am part daimôn. Jacinta isn't dead, she is lost somewhere. Apparently, I am the one that has to help her to return."

"Then perhaps that will be your next task."

"For that I have to go to the Troad, and something tells me that I have to hurry."

 

 

Chapter 17: The Parting

Aryana ('Eran' or 'Persis) was the centre of the civilised world.

It became obvious as soon as they passed through the old border region of the Koppeh Dagh Mountains to the great city of Tus.

Tus was not the greatest city in Aryana and yet it was still magnificent, a crossroads, with trading routes that spanned thousands of miles.

The walls of the fortress were 8-9 m thick, dressed with stone and protected by 43 rectangular towers. It seemed that every city they visited from there on had great buildings, shrines, sculptures, marble, gold, ivory, libraries and universities.

They started on the Great Northern Road heading west. The Great Southern Road rose to meet it in an arc from the south, and the two formed the Royal Road which then led all the way to Sardeis in Anatolē. These roads were the greatest trade routes across the greatest nation on earth. They had been there for thousands of years. They had been built and rebuilt with one purpose only: to speed the traffic on them. They were all hard-packed gravel and cobble stones. Embankments were reinforced by stone. Stone bridges crossed smaller streams and culverts.

The road they followed through many large towns was up to an incredible six metres wide. The route was dotted by regular inns and guard posts and the posts of the famous Persian message-relay riders, the fastest message service in the known world.

Jess sold the camels and bought a spare horse for each of them. Compared with their travel across the desert they began making incredible time past the dazzling cities and prosperous towns. And still Jess couldn't shake a growing sense of urgency.

As they reached western Aryana, a cloud began to hang over the hearts of the hurrying travellers. Too soon the time was approaching when they would have to part. Iraj and Rohana would turn back and Jess and Pandora would ride on.

They had planned to part company in Kermanshah but it was in the ancient city of Hamgmatana, not far from the old border, that Jess and Pandora went shopping for surprise gifts for Rohana and Iraj.

For Iraj they bought an exquisite purple khalat (caftan) made of silk, embroidered with leaves and flowers. "If you are to become a wealthy herder you will need something to wear for formal occasions." Jess laughed as they made him try it on.

Pandora and Jess passed Rohana a small silk pouch each. It was considered bad form to open gifts in front of the people that gave them, but Pandora would have none of that.

From Jess, Rohana received a silver pendant of lažaward (lapis lazuli) well-polished, with intense blue with white calcite flecks and pyrite looking like flecks of gold. Pandora gave her a silver and lažaward ring that matched the brooch.

"These are absolutely exquisite!" Rohana held them in her hands in disbelief. "They must have cost a fortune. But why are you giving us gifts?"

"You have been vomiting the last few mornings, though you are trying to hide it," Pandora said.

Tears came to Rohana's eyes. "It's true, I think I'm pregnant."

"Can I check?" Jess asked.

Rohana nodded. Even before Jess opened her eyes again she broke into a broad smile.

"Congratulations to both of you, it is too soon to tell but I think it is a boy."

Pandora squealed in delight and hugged and kissed Rohana and pulled across so she could hug Iraj at the same time.

"Daddy." Pandora kissed him and then gave him a light punch.

Iraj looked happy but shy.

"We haven't gotten you anything!" Rohana complained.

"We aren't the ones getting married, silly," Pandora said. "We are just sorry we can't be there for the wedding."

* * *

The Parting

The four friends stood outside the city gates, talking softly. The time had come for them to part. Hamgmatana lay in the foothills of the Harvant (Alvand) Mountains. They were part of the large fold of mountains, the great Zagros Mountains, which characterised Western Aryana.

Civilisation in this part of the world was old. The elves believed that a great deal of human agriculture came from here. The hills and plains all around still teemed with wild varieties of stable foods: wheat, barley, lentils, pistachio, almond, walnuts, apricot, plum, pomegranate and grapes.

Beyond the Zagros lay the plains of Mesopotamia.

Pandora and Jess would now travel on to Baghdad, that great river port on the Tigra (Tigris River). There they would travel up-river by shallow draft boat as far as Mosul (across the river from the ruins of Nineveh).

And from there they would head over the highland country to the Kilisian gates that lead to Anatolē.

Rohana and Iraj were returning to Iraj's home, a few days from Amul. There they would get married, Rohana would have her baby, and she would become the wife of a modestly wealthy shepherd.

From where they stood, they could see the great mountains; they had little snow this time of the year and the forest was dominated by oak trees, still green with the cool summer in the mountains. The road before them wound down to the valley below.

Jess and Pandora would soon take that path.

"It is time for us to part," Jess whispered to her friends.

"Almost," said Iraj.

He took his belt knife, rolled up his sleeve and cut his forearm, not far from the old scar.

"Iraj!" Jess and Pandora cried out shrilly.

Oh no, not again!

He looked at Jess levelly as he made a small cut on his arm and passed the knife to Rohana.

"In Chandyr I lost one sister, but I gained two others. I will always carry my love for both of you here." He struck his chest with his other fist. "Within my heart."

"I was dead and my life was over," Rohana said as she made a cut in her forearm and the blood started to trickle down.

"You and Pandora came to take me with you and you loved me. You gave me my life again. My life, my happiness, my wonderful man, my baby, everything I have, I owe to you.

"Jess, you told me you have no family. That is no longer true. Iraj and I are now your family in blood."

Pandora made a cut on her forearm and her blood began to flow. She pressed the handle of the blade into Jess's hand as she pressed her wound against Rohana's in the time-honoured elvish blood-oath.

"Sister," she murmured.

"Sister," Rohana murmured back.

Jess couldn't see for her tears. She couldn't see her friends, she couldn't see the knife, she couldn't even see her forearm. She had to do it almost blindly.

"I will never forget you," Rohana said.

It set Jess crying even more.

"Brother," Pandora whispered as she pressed her wound against Iraj.

"Sister," Iraj whispered.

Rohana came over to Jess and reached up to take her and kiss her on her lips.

Jess couldn't stop crying.

"Sister," Rohana whispered to her as she pressed their wounds together.

"Sister," Jess replied through her tears.

Then she felt rather than saw Iraj approach and take her and kiss her and press their forearms together. They refused to let Jess heal them. She was only allowed to bind their arms.

Then it was time to truly part.

They hugged for a long while and clung together before Rohana and Iraj stood arm in arm to watch them go.

Jess and Pandora turned to mount, leading their spare horses on to the west and whatever destiny held for them in Anatolē.

 

 

Chapter 18: Seléne, Queen of the Half Elven.

The Troad

It was not long after the second anniversary of Elena and Jacinta's death when the royal carriage was sighted.

It was unannounced; there was no letter, no forward courier, just the coach and its escort.

Kynane only had a day's warning from her scouts. She waited nervously on a seat in the shade while the lookouts on the wall reported its progress.

It wasn't hard to guess who it was. A royal elf coach, escorted by five hundred warriors; half elf and half human. The new queen of the half-elven.

Most of the escort camped a short way back and the coach proceeded on with a hundred of the elite royal guard.

Kynane had been overjoyed to be pregnant. Hakeem's first child. Now she had just over a month to go and with the weather increasingly warm, she was wishing it would all end. She was sleeping poorly, her back hurt and the baby kept pressing on her bladder.

Now she had to play hostess to an elf queen in the rustic fortress of a minor noble!

While he hadn't said so, the Hakeem who was afraid of nothing was absolutely terrified of meeting his sister-in-law. At the last minute he had gone off to meditate. He would need to hurry if he would be there to greet the queen in person.

"Alba!" Kynane yelled out. "Tell Hakeem to come here now! He can't expect me to meet the Queen on my own. Take a sword to the coward if you have to."

Asha appeared at her side and put a supporting hand on her shoulder. Kynane put her hand over Asha's and bent her head to kiss it in gratitude. She didn't know how she could have survived without the young Gypsy woman helping her run everything.

The narrow zigzag road up the hill almost defeated the great royal carriage but the coach man knew what he was about.

Anastasia had assembled the honour guard of Amazónes. Kynane's heart swelled with pride when she heard the loud challenge and reply, the sound of the fort's doors thrust open, followed by the first of the queen's escort clattering into the courtyard.

As the coach came to a stop, one of the elf men leapt off his horse to open the door. Anastasia's voice was heard shouting a loud command. The women warriors dropped to one knee and drew their swords in a salute. Kynane awkwardly went down on one knee.

Queen Seléne stepped from the coach.

She was dark haired, which was unusual for an elf, but still had the lustrous silky hair of an elf and extraordinarily fair skin, pixie ears and the superhuman beauty of an elf maiden. As Kynane saw her, she realised how beautiful Elena must have been.

"My Queen," Kynane greeted her. Asha had to help her get back up.

Seléne's eyes narrowed as she looked Kynane up and down. "So, it's true!" she hissed. "And who is this?" She glared at Asha.

She didn't wait for a reply. "Am I to be insulted by a brother-in-law who doesn't bother to greet me? It seems he has forgotten his original family and found a replacement one."

Kynane paled at the insult.

"Asha is Jacinta's cousin, as you may have guessed," said Hakeem, coming up from behind Kynane.

"She is not here as a replacement. She was sent here by the Gypsy king shortly after the death of my own family. If it were not for her, I would have surely drank myself to death."

"Am I not your family too, Hakeem?" Seléne stood facing him.

Her back was ramrod straight and her head held proud, but her voice cracked with hurt and tears began to roll down her cheeks.

Hakeem bowed his head in shame and fell to his knees before her. "Little sister, I am sorry."

"You never replied to my letters, you never visited.

"I waited. I gave you time, but you never came. Did I not lose a sister too? Did I not lose a dear friend? My kingdom was all but destroyed. I did not have the luxury of running away and hiding like you did. I could have done with you then. Now perhaps I see why. This woman has replaced my sister in your heart. She will give you a child something Elena never could."

"Seléne, I'll not hear a bad word spoken of Kynane in my hearing," Hakeem said carefully as he rose to face her. "I have done you a great injury, but Kynane and Asha are blameless. If all you have come for is to judge them then you can turn around and go back."

There was an angry murmur from the elf escort. The Amazónes started to move apart to give themselves space and to fit arrows to their bows.

"Halt! They are guests!" Hakeem called angrily. " Seléne, I love you. I will always love you but I couldn't face you. How can I make you understand that? You once said to me when you thought Pericles was dead you couldn't go on. Well, I lost Elena and Jacinta both. Can you understand now?

"Each long night, every single day all I could do was think of what I had lost. I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep. I don't know how I could even draw breath. Getting out of bed was like climbing a mountain. Food tasted like ashes in my mouth. Death would have been welcome. I couldn't bear to see anyone. I had nothing left to give.

"After that, I got better and I could pretend. I could pretend to be alive, pretend to be interested, pretend to smile for those that needed me. I was like an actor in a poor play. But my heart inside was a block of ice. Then I met this wonderful lady who bears my child. She loves me and I love her. Not as much as I should, because something deep inside of me is forever dead.

"I meant to write, I myself can't explain why I didn't. I meant to visit but the thought of facing you and those memories filled me with panic.

"I have failed you. Can you ever forgive me?"

Hakeem held his arms out to Seléne, his face full of pain, asking for forgiveness.

Seléne, queen of the new kingdom of the Half Elven, moved a few uncertain steps forward and then with a small cry launched herself into Hakeem's arms. He held her for a long time, kissing her and crying.

Then she pulled back a little and slapped him as hard as she could across the face.

"I'm still angry with you," she said.

Then she kissed him. And then she slapped him hard again and then hugged him, crying for a long time, and then she punched him weakly in the chest.

Finally she pushed past and reached a hand out to Kynane.

"Kynane, I'm sorry. I love this brute and he refused to have anything to do with me. I should have never said those things about you."

"My Queen, I never knew or I would have pushed him," Kynane said. "It's no excuse but in truth lately we have hardly seen him ourselves."

"I can think of one time you saw him," Seléne said with a wink.

Kynane looked at the queen in shock ... and then they both laughed, a little warily.

"Kynane," Seléne said, "I have the two royal princes and my daughter asleep in the coach."

"The twins AND your daughter?" Kynane exclaimed in delight. "You brought them here? I want to see them! My Lady, we can put your staff and guards up here but we have no quarters suitable for a queen."

"Don't worry, Kynane!" Seléne laughed. "The first time I met Hakeem he had me locked in his dungeon, or at least my brother's dungeon, and I thought he had come to torture me."

Kynane's eyes lit up. "That sounds like a great story!"

"Well, if you will put up with me for a little while I'll tell you that one and a great many other stories about this useless man we both love." Seléne smiled, taking Kynane by the hand. "Come and see my babies. The boys are three years old now. They can be a handful when they are awake, especially together, but when they are sleeping, they look like angels."

As they passed by, Hakeem called to Seléne, "I'm such a fool, Seléne. Thank you for coming. It feels so good to see you again. You don't know how much!"

Seléne looked at him and sniffed. "You are a fool, Hakeem. If you had allowed me to, I could have given you ease and it would have helped me too. I'm still angry with you, but you know I'll forgive you."

Kynane had her arms linked with Seléne. "She's right to be angry with you, Hakeem."

"I went more than a little crazy after Elena and Jacinta were killed," he said. "You understand that don't you, Seléne? I forgot how much I love you and the others."

Seléne stopped and went back to kiss the big tribesman softly on the cheek. Then she walked back to Kynane and linked arms with her as they went to peek at the sleeping royal babies.

* * *

"Oh, Seléne!" Kynane laughed, holding her aching sides. "If you make me laugh any more, I will have my baby now! I'm sure I must have wet myself with this baby riding so low'"

"It's true, Jacinta told me herself!" Seléne's facial muscles ached with laughing so much. "She was telling the Gypsy shop owner that she was Hakeem's slave and he would beat her if she didn't get a good price. When Hakeem kept telling her to buy an expensive scarf the man got suspicious. Jacinta almost had apoplexy when the man went to talk to Hakeem about it. She really did think he would beat her."

"Seléne, I don't know how to thank you!" Kynane said, clutching at her hand. She had tears from laughing and gratitude in her eyes. "When I had first met him, he was so sad. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't rid this house of a shadow hanging over everything. Since you have come, he can talk about Elena and Jacinta and remember the good times. I think he has finally started to heal."

"I should have come sooner… I should have known when he was avoiding me that he needed me!" Seléne said. "But I felt so hurt and angry and I was so busy all the time."

"I think rather that you have come just at the right time. Any sooner would have been too soon."

"Oh, Kynane." said Seléne, showing her dimples. "You're starting to sound like Hakeem. They are not getting to you with their Shayvism are they?"

"I hate to admit it," Kynane nodded with a smile. "But they are. I am going to join the sisters before I give birth. If I have a daughter I would love for her to become the first born daughter to a sister of the faith. Hakeem wants a son so much ... maybe we can eventually have both."

Seléne moved closer to Kynane and kissed her on the cheek. "Elena would have liked you, Kynane. I know we are going to be good friends."

Kynane caught Seléne's hand and kissed it. "Seléne, I feel we have been friends for a long time already."

* * *

The Queen's advice

They were watching Asha sitting on the grass minding the three-year-old twins.

Seléne's youngest child Helene, named after her dead aunt, was asleep. There was fierce competition between the women of the fort for minding the children but Seléne had put her foot down about too many strangers.

"How can you tell them apart?" Hakeem asked Seléne about her twins.

"Hakeem, that's easy!" Seléne teased. "The one closer is Biôrn, he's the first born, and that's Úlfr."

"Biôrn, the bear, and Úlfr, the wolf," Hakeem translated.

Seléne nodded. "The names of ancient elf heroes from the old lands; we elves believe that the child inherits the quality of the name they bear."

"Elena (the shining one)!" Hakeem whispered.

Seléne looked at Hakeem sharply, but he was smiling fondly at some memory.

"Hakeem, I want you to marry Kynane," Seléne said firmly. "I want you to marry her while I am still here."

Hakeem jerked out of his reverie and looked at Seléne in surprise.

"My sister is dead," she said bluntly. "She would have liked Kynane. I didn't know what to think when I heard you had taken another woman and that she was with child." Seléne smiled. "I realise now that this is right. Elena would have wanted you to marry Kynane, you know she would. I think you owe it to her memory, as well as to both of you." Her voice was thick with emotion.

Hakeem broke into a broad grin. "She might refuse!"

Seléne snorted. "If she had any sense, she would."

"It's a shame we can't invite some of her family," Hakeem said.

"What? So they can kill her on her wedding day?" Seléne laughed. "No, Hakeem we are her family."

* * *

In honour of the visit of the queen, the marriage ceremony was cut short. It would have normally lasted a week.

It began with Hakeem and Kynane exchanging plain gold engagement rings in a small ceremony and then everyone gathered for a celebration.

The next day all the women gathered around a wool-cloth, even Seléne. By tradition all the females old enough had to contribute to making the honey-moon blanket, even if just by a little bit of sewing. Mostly it was a chance for the women to have fun together, but with a fort full of Amazónes they had to take it in turns. Some were sewing, cutting out tassels, tying the blanket off, dying wool for decoration, all coordinated by Asha.

By Anatolian tradition, no one was allowed to pass a positive comment about the bride or groom without pretending to spit, to ward off the evil eye.

Shayvists didn't believe in the evil eye but most did it anyway, deliberately passing compliments about the bride, their wedding outfits and the groom ... just for fun of pretending to spit.

Ptou! Ptou! Ptou!

The marital bed was then prepared and decorated in Hakeem's quarters so Hakeem had to sleep somewhere else.

On the morning of the wedding, the bride and groom had their respective baths and the groom waited in the impromptu chapel while the bride was escorted to him by a procession of smoking torches (even though it was a daytime wedding instead of night time as was more usual with elvish weddings.)

Hakeem wore a pure white keffiyeh bound with a black 'iqal, circled twice. His beard was neatly trimmed. On top, he wore a black Kaftan embroidered with gold cloth at the neck and edges over a white shirt and pants.

Kynane wore a white vest embroidered with flowers over a colourful silk blouse. In the somewhat rustic traditions of the Illyroi she had a pleated petticoat under a full skirt, with an elaborately embroidered red tasselled apron and sash over the top.

It was all loosened to accommodate her ballooning belly.

Over her hair she wore a red wool scarf. Around her neck was an exquisite filigree necklace in gold, a gift from Seléne.

"I Hakeem," his voice rang out strongly, "before all here present and in presence of my God, Apollōn, take you, Kynane, as my wife. I will love you, honour you and cherish you for all the rest of my days."

"And I, Kynane." Her voice was softer, almost shy. Tears were in her eyes. "Before all here and in front of Apollōn, take you, Hakeem, as my husband to love you, honour you and cherish you for the rest of my days."

Father Lazar paused meaningfully.

"The union of a man and a woman is holy in the eyes of both God and man. What God has joined, let no man or woman tear asunder. I now declare you as man and wife joined together. You may kiss the bride."

Hakeem turned smiling to Kynane, who looked at her man with love in her eyes.

"BANG!" The ground shuddered, dust cascaded from the ceiling, and cracks appeared in the walls.

"Earth quake!" someone shouted.

One of the elf guards burst in, "My Queen! Lord Hakeem! We are under attack. A great daimôn has appeared within the gates of your fortress."

Hakeem took two strides and struck the gong kept to sound the alarm indoors.

"Alba! Androcles! Get as many troops on horses as you can. They can't catch horses. Take the children, the queen and Kynane away from here in any way you can. Make for the river. These things can't stand water.

"Eirene and Kleon! You're in charge of the rest of the evacuation. Get as many people out of here as possible. Spread out. It can't get all of us."

He turned to Anastasia and the remaining elf commander.

"Anastasia and Theseus, gather your weapons and troops. We will try to delay it. Chares," he beckoned to the youngest of the Amazon seniors, "in my room there is a large box. It contains a single throwing spear. It was Jacinta's, left from the catacombs. Let us pray its magic still holds.

"Where's Sophie and Daniel when we need them?"

Pandemonium broke out as people ran to their tasks.

Someone passed Hakeem his sword and a shield.

He was still dressed in his wedding finery.

Kynane grabbed at him. "Hakeem, what are you going to do?"

"Love, you carry our child. They say you can't fight a daimôn, well we will see, we will see!"

He kissed her fiercely and ran to the door.

"Fire arrows," he shouted. "Let's see if fire arrows work. I wish we had water cannons."

As he cleared the door, he paused for an instant.

Then he could see the daimôn. "Ba'al!" he screamed in a rage. "Murderer! I will send you back to whatever hell you came from."

But Ba'al seemed hurt. He crouched on the ground, clutching at his side.

"Hakeem!" he shouted. "I came to parley, not to attack."

He crouched under a shower of arrows. He was covering something with his body.

"Hold your fire!" Hakeem bellowed.

He had to repeat the order till all firing stopped.

"Jacinta lives, but she is lost to me," Ba'al yelled.

"What lie is this?" Hakeem demanded. "I saw you engulf my daughter."

"She and I have journeyed far and fought many battles together. I have brought Elena back with me, don't shoot or you will hit her."

Seléne and Kynane, who were being hurried past, froze in their tracks.

"Be careful of Elena, she will not remember you at first. She has been in the daimôn realm too long, and was beginning to turn. I was attacked and am too weak, I cannot stay."

He started to flicker in and out, then he was gone. Lying on the ground, unconscious, was what looked like a small daimôn with dirty blond hair.

"That is Elena," Seléne screamed. "Don't let anyone hurt her! It will take a few moments before she returns to normal."

"Everyone stay well back!" Hakeem commanded. "For God's sake don't shoot, no matter what happens."

In front of their eyes the black was fading and her features were moulding back into those of an elf. Hakeem held back until he was sure.

"It is Elena!" He sheathed his sword and cast his shield aside.

"Careful," Kleon warned. "It might be a trap. The daimôn king is the master of lies."

"Elena!" Hakeem called.

It was her! She was thin and worn, her hair dry and coarse and her complexion tanned.

Hakeem ran to her side. "Elena!"

She struggled to sit up and he steadied her.

"Elena, are you all right?" .

Elena made an animal snarl and opened her eyes. They were glowing yellow. She grabbed his wedding jacket and stood up, lifting him up, and heaved. Hakeem was thrown back to crash into a pile of wooden crates, which splintered under his weight.

"Careful, Hakeem! Don't hurt her!" Seléne reminded him.

Hakeem got up, holding his left ribs and limping.

"She's not herself, Hakeem!" Seléne repeated. "Don't hurt her."

Just then a voice shouted in Hakeem's head.

"HAKEEM! YOU'RE NOT UNDER ATTACK!"

"Thanks, Sophie," Hakeem thought back at her. "You're a little late with that. Can you turn the volume down a little?"

"Sorry, Hakeem," Sophie apologised. "You know it's is almost impossible for me to get through to you. Ba'al isn't trying to attack. He was returning Jacinta and Elena.

"They were never killed, Elena was captured and taken to the daimôn realm by Æloðulf. Ba'al and Jacinta followed to try to rescue her. But don't try to approach Elena for a few moments, whatever you do, she may attack you!"

"Thanks, Sophie. But where's Jacinta?"

"I don't know. Ba'al was taken by surprise and attacked just as he left the daimôn realm. He was carrying Elena and Jacinta inside himself. He was thrown off course and they were in danger of being lost in the region of nothingness between the two realms.

"Jacinta stepped out. She did it to save Ba'al and Elena."

"Where is my daughter?" Hakeem demanded.

"I don't know, Hakeem. She is lost in the realm of nothingness. It is made up of the stuff from which the universe is created. It doesn't exist in time or space."

"Can't Ba'al find her?"

"He will try. He loves her, but I don't know how anyone or anything can search that place ... and he is injured."

Hakeem paused for a minute in shock to hear not only that his daughter was lost in such a dreadful place, but that a Daimôn Lord was in love with her.

"Can you and Daniel search?"

"Daniel will do what he can from here. I will see if I can work the far-seeing mirror and I will search the libraries here first. Then I will come to you, but Hakeem I'm not sure we can even survive in that place let alone search, even Maerwen. We have already contacted Silver but Jacinta is lost and we don't know what to do."

Hakeem fell to his knees and screamed a great cry of agony.

Elena was getting herself up. "Seléne, is that you? Praise the Gods. Where's Hakeem? Where's Jacinta?"

Seléne rushed to cover her sister's nakedness.

"Seléne, is that the twins? Who is that lady that is pregnant? She is carrying Hakeem's baby girl."

Hakeem was too numb to sort out all that had happened in his concern for Jacinta.

He was in too much turmoil to feel any joy of Elena's return.

Then he realised he was about to have a baby to another woman he loved and had just married. Elena had been pronounced dead. An empty coffin had been interred in her family crypt. Her sister was crowned the queen of the Half Elven.

What were they going to do?

* * *

Kynane leaving

It was the third night after Elena's return.

Kynane had withdrawn to the Amazon quarters. She had refused to sleep in Hakeem's bed on their wedding night. All the happiness, all the excitement of marrying the man she loved had turned to ashes. Hakeem had tried and tried to get her to talk, but no matter what he said she said their marriage was over.

Eventually, Elena asked Asha to accompany her to talk to Kynane. She waited at the door to Kynane's room. "Can I come in to talk?"

Kynane was loading some clothes into a saddle pack.

She looked at the elf waiting in her doorway. "What's to say?"

"You're leaving," Elena said.

"There's nothing for me here," she was dry-eyed now but her eyes were red; she had been crying. "I will take some money and leave tomorrow. Chares has a cousin who will look after me for a fee, while I have my baby. You said it will be a girl. After that, I will make a life for myself and my daughter far away from here."

"Kynane, your friends are here. The Amazónes need you. This is your home! Hakeem loves you," Elena said.

"He says he does. He did, I think," Kynane said tiredly. "But it's you he really loves, he never stopped loving you. While you were dead, I had a chance. But just look at me. At best I am only a second choice!"

"Kynane, Hakeem would never marry you as a substitute. You must know him better than that."

Kynane looked at Elena coldly. "We didn't sleep together afterwards, so there is no marriage. He only has one wife, and that is you."

"Kynane, Hakeem and I have not slept together either. Not until we can sort this out," Elena said.

"Well, you don't have to worry about me. I don't want to see anyone from here again." Kynane raised her voice to a shout. "Do you know how foolish I feel? It was my wedding day, Elena. For the sake of all the Gods, did you have to come back on my wedding day?"

Elena bowed her head in guilt. Tears started to run down her cheeks.

"Kynane, I wish we could be friends," she whispered hoarsely.

"We cannot!" Kynane snapped, turning away.

"Æloðulf took me to a terrible place and tried to break my will." Elena looked up at her, her face a mask of pain. Anyone could see that the experience had aged her. Her hair was coarsened and her face was weathered and tanned.

"I expected to die in that dreadful place. For two years only thoughts of Hakeem and my daughter helped me endure. Do you hate me for that? I came back too late, I'm sorry for that. I will not see you again and I'm sorry about that too. I wished things could have been different between us, Kynane. Please don't think too badly of me."

"My Lady!" Kynane turned back angrily.

But Elena was gone.

* * *

Kynane could hardly sleep that night and by the time she woke, the sun was well up.

She could hear the noise of the novices training outside but otherwise the women's quarters seemed empty. She told herself she liked it that way, so she could leave quietly.

It was a lie.

So many dreams had been here, so many hopes.

Best to get this finished.

As soon as she stepped outside she noticed the elf guards had gone.

"Where is everybody?" She asked Alba who was sitting slumped on the ground nearby.

"Seléne and her escort left at first light, my Lady," Alba replied. She had been crying.

"But I would have said goodbye! They should have woken me. Do they think so little of me already? I will speak to Hakeem about this."

"It was for the best, my Lady," Alba said. "Hakeem didn't say goodbye either. You'll find him sitting by the steps."

Kynane was shocked. Hakeem didn't say goodbye. How could that be?

And she felt a touch of fear. Something was wrong, far, far wrong.

She found Hakeem sitting staring blankly into space. Asha had her arm around him. He looked like he hadn't slept for days. For the first time, Kynane felt a surge of compassion for the man she loved and would always love.

As she approached, he looked up, his face was haggard.

"Please don't leave me, Kynane." His voice was husky.

Kynane felt awful to see him in so much pain, but she also had a growing sense of dread.

"Hakeem, what is happening?"

"She has gone," he said simply. "Seléne couldn't stay any longer and they left early. I could not face her to s-say goodbye, not again."

He began to sob.

"Hakeem, what have you done?" Kynane felt frightened.

"Elena came back too late. We couldn't do that to you."

"Hakeem!" Kynane screamed. "She was ill! She had gone through hell!"

"She is with her sister, Kynane," Hakeem said dully. "The elves will look after her."

"You can't do this!" Kynane had a feeling of panic. "You will hate me."

"Kynane, this is nothing to do with you," Hakeem said. "It was between me and Elena. I love you, I said that. I promised to love you and treasure you always. You are having my baby. Elena returned too late. There is nothing we can do, it is our karma."

"But this will destroy you!" she shouted, aghast.

Hakeem looked up at her, his mouth working wordlessly. She realised the truth of her words.

"Elena and I agreed," he said, standing up. "We will not talk further on this."

"Hakeem, I never meant for you to do that.! Go after her! Bring her back!"

"It is too late!" He stood and walked away.

"Asha, we must do something!"

"And what would that be, my Lady?" Asha asked her coldly.

"Why bring her back, of course!" Kynane said.

"And what then, my Lady, you will leave?"

"Why, yes I will leave. Hakeem loves Elena, I've never met a man so devastated by the loss of his wife, and now she is back."

"And he has lost her again," Asha said. "Don't you understand, Kynane? This place will always be yours, she had to leave."

"I never meant ..." Kynane stood, fixed to the spot, appalled.

"Leave it be, Kynane. It's hard enough on the two of them without dragging Elena back. Why would you do such a thing? Do you hate her that much? They understand you would have to leave if she remained. No one blames you for that. They made the only decision they could,. Hakeem won't see Elena again."

"Did Elena leave for Hakeem's sake?"

"Of course not, they love each other."

"So all that time in hell, thinking of Hakeem, loving him and she would give him up for me? Why would she do such a thing?"

"Don't you know?" Asha asked. "Hakeem can only love a woman who is truly exceptional. He pledged to you in good faith, Elena wouldn't come back and take him away from you."

"Alba! Anastasia!" Kynane shouted out. "Take some women and bring Elena back here!"

"My Lady, she will not come." Alba said, hurrying up.

"Say to her, if she does not come, I will ride after her myself, despite my pregnancy, and I will beg her to return. If she will not come, I will drag her back myself, no matter how pregnant I am!"

Alba and Anastasia didn't have to be told twice, they broke out into grins and scrambled for the stables shouting for the women who were to accompany them.

Kynane waited, pacing.

The royal party had an hour's head start but would be travelling slowly. It seemed to take forever before she saw the small cloud of dust returning. She strained her eyes, trying to pick out the features and the number. As they got closer, she could pick out two male elves and one woman with fair hair.

As the women entered the gate and rode up, Elena and the two elf guardsmen didn't dismount. Elena sat on the horse listlessly, her head averted. Eventually Alba encouraged her to get off. She stood in front of Kynane with her head bowed; her shoulders were slumped in defeat.

"What would you have of me?" she whispered harshly.

Kynane couldn't speak, she realised in awe the agony Elena and Hakeem were prepared to endure for her sake. She started to cry uncontrollably and gathered Elena wordlessly into her arms and hugged her.

Elena looked at her in surprise. Hope was starting in her eyes as she realised what was happening.

"Now I know," Kynane said. "Hakeem loves us both."

Kynane knew at that moment that neither of them could leave. In the end it would only destroy the three of them.

"Elena, it will be hard for me ... But I think we can become friends. If not, we will destroy the man we both love and then ourselves."

Elena looked at the large woman and nodded.

"Yes," she said through her tears. "I think I could easily love you."

Kynane held the elf for a long time.

"Should we go and tell Hakeem?" Elena asked.

"No," Kynane said firmly. "Let someone else carry that message. The two of us will spend time getting to know each other before we face him."

Elena bowed her head humbly, "Yes, Kynane, and thank you for giving me this chance."

"And thank you for your offer to leave. I am a little in awe of that, but I think we almost made a terrible mistake. Do you think we can make this work?"

Elena nodded. "I would like to be your friend. Hakeem wouldn't love you unless you were very special."

"Asha said something like that, but she was talking about you. I think she is right."

Elena and Kynane withdrew into the women's barracks and asked not to be disturbed. They needed to form a friendship before the hundred and one complications and pressures intruded, especially before they dealt with Hakeem!

Kynane expected Elena to be alien, proud and difficult. She had been the Queen of the powerful Eastern Elves. To her surprise she found her shy and humble, down to earth and impossible to dislike.

Elena was worried Kynane being a female warrior would be coarse, but she reminded her so much of Jacinta that at times it brought tears to her eyes.

Elena had gone through a terrible experience which had almost destroyed her and she was almost mad with worry over Jacinta. She desperately needed a friend. Kynane felt very protective of the elf and Elena was very grateful.

Kynane after the manner of women asked how Elena and Hakeem first slept together.

Elena laughed. "Hakeem really loved me, I knew. But he is so stiff with his Shantawi honour. He was driving me crazy. He would never have made a move. I had to grab him with both hands."

Kynane laughed, delighted.

Elena looked at her in surprise, and then it hit her! "Oh, no! You too?"

Kynane nodded, unable to speak for laughing. Then the two grabbed each other and laughed and laughed. When they stopped they excitedly began to compare notes. It broke the final ice between them as the two settled down to smile in fond amusement with the antics of the man they both loved.

* * *

Vanâra and Tishari

"I have finally managed to locate two of her three friends, Great One." Vanâra bowed. "It took a lot of searching. They separated from her at Hamgmatana and are headed back east." The acolyte looked tired. "I think they are a couple and are returning to the man's home village, Qori."

"Don't we have a friend in Arys, not far from there?" Tishari asked.

"Menna, the Aígyptoi? I thought you despised him. He worships the Goddess 'Anat."

"Say what you like about Menna, but he is strong. Too strong for Jess. He and one of his acolytes trained with the brotherhood of Set. If he can handle Jess I might forgive his devotion to the Goddess version of our War God.

"If he can't ... then Jess will have done some of our work for us"

* * *

Elena and Kynane

It was the third day and Elena and Kynane were really enjoying spending time together.

Elena was explaining to Kynane the times before when she wanted to be one of two wives. The first was a junior wife with Philip the Grey and his wife Eugenia. The second was a senior wife when she realised she was barren.

"Elena, are you jealous of me and my child?"

"Kynane, no, truly I'm not. I feel so happy it is you. It will always be your child, but if you allow, I would like to be like a doting aunt, that's how I think I'll feel.

"To be honest I have been through far too many things to worry about being barren. Hakeem should have children. He will be a good father. I can't think of anyone else I would want to be giving him children." Elena shyly touched Elena's stomach and smiled at her.

"Elena," Kynane took her hand and gently kissed it. "You are a remarkable woman. I am privileged to have you as my friend. There may still be some hope for you to have children. You have been under so much stress it may be with some rest and peace you might conceive."

Elena shook her head sadly. "That would be nice but the infection when I lost Philip's baby is not the only reason, you see ..." Elena stopped mid-sentence. Then her face began to transform into an expression of wonder.

"Kynane!" she said excitedly. "I am dead!"

Kynane looked at her in shock. She couldn't imagine all her new friend had endured. All that had happened, all that she had been through. It had finally caught up with her.

She stood up. "Elena, please rest. I am going to get Alba. She has some knowledge of healing."

"No, no!" Elena said excitedly. "Can't you see, I am dead! I could go and see my own grave. Isn't it wonderful?" She started to laugh. "Of course ... I am dead!"

"Of course, you're dead," Kynane said, placating the elf. "Now as I said, I will just get Alba and she will make you some herbal drink and you will feel a lot better, I'm sure you will."

"No, Kynane," Elena was laughing hysterically ... and she was thoroughly frightening her new friend.

"Hakeem said that it could work out, and I never believed him."

"What could work out?" Kynane asked, perplexed. "Your death?"

"No, Kynane, let me explain. I cannot have children because in the Prophecy I am the last of my line. Even if I had resigned as queen, I would still be a royal elf. Any child or grandchild would have to die before me."

Kynane nodded, she followed so far.

"Under elf law, I have died. I can challenge that ruling but until I do so I am seen as a different person. I am no longer a royal elf. Queen Elena is dead and her line is ended. If I bear children the Prophecy doesn't apply."

Now Kynane understood! "You intend to give up being the elf queen?"

"Gladly!" Elena laughed with a small shudder. "Even if I didn't have children I want nothing to do with it. I already told Seléne that. She makes a better ruler in the peace and recovery than I ever would and she is welcome to it. All I want is to stay here with you and Hakeem."

Kynane chuckled. "I am no longer a princess."

"And I am no longer a queen!" Elena laughed. "We are the two wives of one minor noble who was once one of the most powerful men in all the Middle East. And I for one couldn't be happier," Elena whispered.

"Welcome home, Elena, dearest sister-wife."

* * *

The search for Jacinta

They were having a meeting to discuss what had happened to Jacinta. Elena was sitting between Hakeem and Kynane. Hakeem held her hand and Kynane had an arm around her. The worry about Jacinta was like a cloud hanging over everyone.

Elena, especially, was looking worn-down and exhausted. Eirene had just asked her about the daimôn realm and the Illvættir War.

"Jacinta joined Ba'al, which put her on one side of that war and I was Æloðulf's captive, he was on the other side.

"To understand the events just before my rescue, you have to know something about daimôns." Elena took a deep breath. " Daimôns spawn; daimôn newborns are mindless and hungry. They are very small and grow slowly by absorbing energy from the hot sun of their world, and from each other.

"As they mature they can form bonds with each other which get stronger the more mature they get. The most important groups are led by a senior daimôn who adopts younger daimôns who show promise. It is in some ways more powerful than our family bonds and it is this that allows daimôn summoners to bind daimôns.

"When a daimôn summoner dies, their soul is absorbed into the daimôn they have bound with. It is not destroyed, it is absorbed, and that is the second crucial thing to know.

"Absorbing human souls is a very rapid and powerful way for daimôns to become smarter. They become more human, they became daimôn lords, junior at first. Over time they become more senior and powerful.

"When the Illvættir died, though, they retained a part of themselves inside the daimôn. They took over the daimôn like a parasite from inside, taking over a host. They ended up with the power of both a daimôn lord and an Illvættir, and they carried the madness of the Illvættir."

Hakeem gasped. "So powerful and so very dangerous."

"Indeed, " Elena agreed. "When Ba'al and his allies found out what was happening they began to fight back, but they were badly outclassed and other daimôns were slow to join them. Daimôns, due to the nature of their social groups, are very tribal in their outlook.

"Æloðulf bonded with a daimôn but he betrayed it, forcing it to become a double for him, under his control. It was that that Jacinta killed in the final battle for Elgard. The real Æloðulf attacked me just after that and took me to the daimôn realm. He had learnt to travel between realms like a very small number of daimon lords can. When Ba'al and Jacinta followed to rescue me, Ba'al gathered Jacinta inside himself to transit. That was when you thought he had killed her."

Elena looked up to see if they were all following.

"Æloðulf and the Illvættir never understood daimôns and that was their final undoing. They assumed they were evil. While only the most senior daimôns would understand what we understand as evil, daimôns have their own codes, especially the smarter ones.

"Æloðulf betrayed a daimôn he was bonded to. For most of the daimôns, he could not have done anything worse." She concluded.

"Æloðulf betrayed something that was sacred to the daimôns," Hakeem said.

"Exactly," Elena said. "But you are thinking like a human or an elf. To call bonding sacred to daimôns is an understatement. As the news spread, all free daimôn lords flocked to join Ba'al. And once bonded to him they will never go back. That single event united all or most of the daimôns. It has changed the face of the daimôn realm forever."

"So it's over?" Eirene asked.

"I don't think so, not so easily at least. The Illvættir are still very powerful individually, more powerful than all but the greatest of the daimôn lords, but for the very first time they began to lose.

"Ba'al and his new allies struck at Æloðulf's great fortress. I was held deep below the ground but the lesser daimôns around me told me what was going on. They were still bound to the Illvættir from before, when they were ordinary daimôns, but they didn't like them anymore.

"As his stronghold was about to be overwhelmed, Æloðulf sent one of his most senior daimôn lords to kill me. The lesser daimôns that were looking after me gave their lives to protect me." She began to cry. "Daimôns are not reincarnated, so when they die, that's it. They didn't even hesitate; I feel so unworthy of what they did."

She paused. "I became angry and I felt myself change and fight back but against a daimôn lord it wasn't enough.

"Then a small female daimôn appeared, she must have been sent by Jacinta and Ba'al. Female daimôns are not common and I don't know much about them, but I've never seen a daimôn move so fast.

"She managed to hold off the daimôn lord long enough for Ba'al and Jacinta to arrive in a crash of thunder. The enemy daimôn fled, but as we were beginning the transition back to our world, he appeared again and attacked Ba'al. Ba'al couldn't finish the transition carrying the two of us and fighting the other daimôn lord at the same time. That was when I felt Jacinta leaving."

She bent her head and began to sob. Kynane pulled her closer and began to stroke her hair. Hakeem lifted her hand to his mouth with both of his and kissed it.

Their daughter was lost in that strange realm between realities

* * *

Menna's desert fortress

Vanâra sat outside the fortress, trying not to show his fear.

Tishari had described Menna as an ignorant heathen from Aígyptos, but the man and his acolytes had gained considerable power in a short while. They were doing far, far, better than Tishari's group, which was struggling to establish themselves in the region still controlled by the Persis. It had happened all over the regions conquered by the Hun. Many people turned their backs on the Zoroastrian faith that had failed them so badly. The worship of the old, powerful Gods and Goddesses had returned.

Menna's chief acolyte, Rameses (meaning son of 'Ra') appeared over the battlements, smiling down on him. "Well, we are honoured." He laughed. "A visit from an acolyte of the all mighty Aesma, no less."

He lost his smile and turned to his men. "Put your bows down, and open the gates. We are certainly coming up in the world."

Vanâra was given a tour of the desert fortress.

He expected it was all for show but it was impressive no less: the heavily armed men, the temple with its oversized bronze statue of 'Anat wearing an Aígyptios crown and wielding an axe, and the murals of her covered in blood, killing her enemies. Written by the side of the statue on a great marble tablet was a fragment from the famous Assyrian Epic.

'Then 'Anat appears, fierce, wild and furious; wading in blood, striking off heads, cutting off hands, binding the heads to her torso and the hands in her sash. Driving out the old men and townsfolk before her with arrows, her heart filled with joy.'

Eventually he was ushered in to see Menna.

The man was bare to the waist with a simple white linen shendyt (Egyptian kilt) belted at the waist. His hands were painted with Henna, and eyes outlined with black kohl. Red ochre mixed with fat was smeared on his lips. He was sweating in the heat and reeked of perfume from Aígyptos.

He was a remarkably ugly man for the Goddess to favour with such power. He was balding with short hair, a sloping forehead and back-set ears. He had a thin wispy chin-beard like a goat . Above the waist of the kilt, he had a paunch.

Why didn't the great Aesma match the gifts that 'Anat, that long forgotten Goddess, had showered on Menna and his acolytes?

"Salaam alaykum, Holy Menna; a thousand blessings on you and your people."

"Ah, Vanâra isn't it? As you can see, we are doing well here. With blessed 'Anat on our side we have been able to raid our neighbours, take their herds, their gold, their women and children.

"None can stand against us. We enslave whomever we want, and our numbers are growing every day."

Vanâra felt like spitting on him. He bowed low instead. "My heart is full of praise, blessed is your cause, Great One."

"Well, you must stay and dine with me."

And be poisoned?

"I must humbly beg your indulgence, Great One. I am on a matter most pressing otherwise it would be an honour beyond my worth. If I could be permitted, I would mention a trifling matter. You may know that we encountered some difficulties in Margu."

"I heard you had to run for your lives." Menna threw his head back and laughed.

Then he stopped as quickly as he started. He leaned forward, the smile wiped from his face; there was no sign of banter now. "You tried to kill a sorceress and found out that you couldn't, even though you had her in chains. Is that what this is about?"

Menna may be many things but he was no fool.

Vanâra coloured. "We were unable to get her to join us." He felt his face burning.

"What a shame, but why is this of interest to me?"

"There is a soon to be married couple returning to Qori. They are under her protection."

"And where is she in all this?"

"She cannot be seen through far sight."

"Oh ho." Menna's smile became wolfish. "A worthy adversary then, and you want me to kill her I presume. I will want something in exchange."

"We will concede this fortress and all the land one day's travel by horse in any direction. All of it for the Goddess 'Anat."

Menna thought that was hilarious.

"We already have that!" After a while he stopped laughing.

"Very well, I will agree. How much trouble is she capable of causing me?"

"Remember Horkan?"

"That was her?" Menna asked, somewhat sobered by the news. "Well, well, well. You people have really made a mess of things, haven't you? Didn't you realise she was sent? And what did you do? Why you tried to get her to join you. Were you really surprised when she refused?"

"She is a changeling," Vanâra warned.

"Don't worry, I know what to do. I won't be making the sorts of mistakes you had."

* * *

The delivery

The contractions were becoming stronger. Kynane stopped her pacing and lay down while Elena checked her belly.

"It seems all right. Hakeem!" she called out to the back. "Can you come here now and monitor the baby please?"

"Elena," Kynane whispered desperately. "I think I just wet myself."

"No love, your waters have broken. Don't worry, the fluid is clear, the baby is healthy."

Alba helped lift Kynane's hips and they slid clean towels underneath.

"How much longer?" Kynane asked.

"At least two turns of the glass, but you are doing very well for a first child."

Hakeem climbed onto the cushions behind Kynane and took her in his arms. He kissed her hair, and tears of joy came to his eyes.

* * *

A new daughter

Kynane lay back, exhausted, her body covered with sweat. She smiled tenderly at her new daughter when Elena cut the cord and placed the baby, glistening with fluid, onto her chest.

"Aren't you supposed to give her a smack?" Hakeem asked.

Elena giggled. "It wasn't needed. She cried and is breathing already. Look, she has a full head of hair!"

Elena moved around to kiss her fellow wife and kiss Hakeem. "You two make good babies."

Elena and Alba busied themselves delivering the after-birth, while Eirene whisked the new baby away for her first bath.

 

 

Chapter 19: Journey to the Troad

"Aaaa!" Jess sat up, and looked wildly around, hand on the hilt of her knife.

It was the middle of the night and the camp fire had burnt down.

Pandora grabbed for her, putting her head against her back. "Jess, love, what's wrong? You were dreaming."

Jess shuddered. "I don't know, I honestly don't know."

She got up and put some wood on the fire for something to do.

"Why don't you try to get some sleep?" Jess suggested. "I'm going to stay awake for a while."

"What, after you almost scared me out of my skin?" Pandora shook her head. "What can you remember of the dream?"

"It wasn't all that scary, really. I was riding a horse and next to me was a big man, a desert tribesman on a great white horse. It had a light grey mane. It was all so vivid."

"Hakeem."

"Yes, Jacinta and Hakeem," Jess said. "As I get closer to where she lived, I am getting more memories from Jacinta and I'm feeling increasingly jumpy. I think she is sending them to me as some sort of message, but I don't understand what it is she is trying to tell me."

Jess sat down next to Pandora and Pandora put her arm around her and kissed her. Jess's cheeks were wet with crying.

"I feel so scared," she said. "Scared of what I am going to find in the Troad. Thank you, Pandora. I bless the day I ever met you."

"I have an idea." Pandora gave Jess a coy smile.

Jess laughed. "Lover, you really always have the best of all ideas."

* * *

Iraj and Rohana

Iraj kept glancing again and again with pride at the beautiful woman riding by his side. Rohana loved him so much that she would bear his child, and soon they would be united as man and wife.

Rohana grinned back at her handsome man. He was strong and muscular and yet he was so gentle and loving. He had a deep warm voice and a smile that made her tremble all over. Jess had described him as a wonderful man, so long ago. Little did Rohana think back then that one day she would be riding proudly by his side as his bride to be.

After they parted from Jess and Pandora, they had discovered a small bag of gold and a note amongst their luggage. It was addressed to Rohana. How Jess snuck it into their luggage, they never found out, but when Rohana read it, it set her crying.

'Dear, dear Rohana. This isn't much, but a bride as lovely as you deserves a dowry from her family. We are your family. This is a part of my share from Dilkor. They stole your money and they stole two years of your life, so Pandora and I think you should have it. I don't know if fate will allow us to come your way again but know that you and Iraj always hold a piece of our hearts. You sisters in love, Jess and Pandora.'

They finally crossed the Oxus where Iraj had to buy small presents for all his family. Even small presents added up to a big load, piled on their two spare horses. Then they headed mainly east but slightly north to the village of Qori and Iraj's home. Finally, they had to pass through the Qori to reach his family home. People came running and shouting out from everywhere.

Iraj had returned! They marvelled at his four horses and his bulging saddle bags and all his luggage. And he was so well dressed! And who was the beautiful Indoi lady by his side?

Rohana stayed on her horse, feeling shy and overwhelmed by all the attention, while Iraj hopped down to greet his friends. But then he caught her eye and gave her that proud smile that made her feel warm all over.

They stopped at a bazaar-cheh (mini-bazaar) for Rohana to buy the traditional flowers for her prospective mother-in-law, after which it was only a short ride to his house.

The news of their arrival had preceded them, especially the news that Iraj had arrived with a woman and that he looked prosperous. Everyone was already waiting outside: his parents, his younger brother Peshana looking for all the world like a younger version of Iraj. His sister Esther and her husband Usmanara and their two young children were in front.

His youngest sister Asabanâ and one of his young female cousins waited a little behind.

Iraj hopped down but before he even greeted his parents, he turned and helped Rohana from her horse and held her possessively in front of him. As a woman, she would be introduced to his mother, the senior woman of the house, first.

"Mother, please meet the jane del-am (life of my heart), Rohana, the girl I wish to marry."

Oh no! Iraj had said it in front of everyone even before they had a chance to get to know her. What would people think? Rohana went bright red and fell at the feet of her prospective mother-in-law. But Iraj's mother, Humâyâ, grabbed her by both arms and lifted her up into a hug.

"Iraj, she is very beautiful." To Rohana she said, "Rohana, arūus (daughter-in-law), please call me mâdarsowhar (mother-in-law) already! Be welcome to our house."

Iraj's father, Mayu, echoed the greeting with a broad smile. "Arūus, be welcome. Your presence lightens our day."

Rohana's eyes teared it was such a wonderful warm greeting, and then the rest of the family gathered around to be introduced. Of course, a family that had produced Iraj could be nothing but absolutely wonderful, just like him!

Iraj had a small gift for each member of his family and then they went inside to drink tea and eat cakes in a traditional welcome for Rohana and a welcome back for Iraj.

The house had been built by Iraj's father's father. It was a one story stretched out house in the shape of an 'L'. It had more than enough room for an extended family and several servants. An 'L' shaped wall on the other side formed an enclosed rectangular courtyard that most of the rooms opened into.

In the Persian style, it was mostly garden with seating, a well, cobblestones, flowers, fig trees, pomegranates and grape vines. The whole divided into sections by low walls.

Rohana was given a large room to share with Iraj's youngest sister, Asabanâ. She was fifteen, a head taller than Rohana and wouldn't stop talking.

"I just know we will be good friends. Iraj went searching for poor Katin. Then he visited to tell us she was dead and he was working for a wealthy black woman and now he turns up without warning with a bride. Usually nothing happens here. It was always so dull until our poor Katin ran away."

Rohana smiled, feeling a bit breathless with the conversation.

"Where did you meet?" Asabanâ asked.

"I was a prisoner of slavers at Dilkor. It was Iraj that led the rescue of that whole town."

"I heard of that, was that my brother? He is a hero!"

Rohana laughed gently. "He is all of that."

"Did you fall in love with him, then?"

"A little," Rohana laughed. "I remember thinking he was very handsome."

That evening they held an impromptu outdoors feast, which somehow grew to involve the whole village. Iraj's family killed two goats and several chickens but they wouldn't have had enough if their neighbours hadn't cooked as well. It seemed everyone brought something. There was a lot of wine consumed and even some of the milky-oily-tea made from marijuana that is so loved by the Skythians.

It was the first time people from the village got to meet Rohana, and their reaction was everything she could have wished for.

Iraj played the veena to show off his new skill while Rohana beat her drum and they sang together before others finally took over. It didn't finish till late in the morning.

 

* * *

Baptism

After the ritual bath and drink of pomegranate juice, Rohana emerged with a prayer cap and only the loose white trousers and shawl to cover her nakedness.

Her mother-in-law to be, Humâyâ, as the eldest woman in her new family, circled the egg three times over her head and then dashed it to the ground to remove any lurking evil. Then she formed up a small honour guard of Iraj's sisters and female cousins to lead Rohana to the waiting priest.

She had to repent her sins.

"That's a short list, Arūus," Humâyâ hissed in an aside.

Rohana struggled to keep a straight face as she recited the short prayers Iraj had taught her. Then she made her pledges with the whole village as her audience:

Astuye humtem mano (I pledge my thoughts to good thoughts), Astuye hukhtem vacho (I pledge my speech to good words), Astuye hvarashtem shyaothanem (I pledge my actions to good deeds), Astuye daenam vanghuhim Mazdayasnim (and I pledge myself to the highest worship of our God).

After this, they took her behind a curtain where the women helped her put on the small cotton vest the like of which she would wear as an undergarment for the rest of life. It had a pocket against her chest for symbolically collecting her good deeds. She had to think of what it might contain (or not contain) before she judged or criticised someone else.

Then they gathered the shawl around her shoulders again and wound the Kusti (cord) around her waist three times (one time each for good thoughts, good deeds and good speech) and then knotted it. The priest placed a red dot of paste on her forehead, indicating the spiritual eye.

And, then it was done. The priest recited a blessing, her future mother-in-law put a garland of flowers around her neck and kissed her. Then the people from the village sprinkled her with rice and rose petals for good fortune.

Rohana was a Behdin (Zoroastrian). She had converted to the 'good religion'.

Now they could celebrate!

* * *

Jess preferred to grip her sword with her right hand bare.

But she wasn't sure if wearing one glove like an Amazōn would be a good idea once she reached the Troad. Out from Sardeis she finally found a glove maker who sold her some soft leather gloves in her size that seemed to solve the problem. They were designed for a swordsman or swordswoman. The palm was of suede for grip and the back lightly padded for protection. Now she could feel comfortable wearing two gloves.

Sardeis now lay behind them.

They forded the Hermos River and finally sighted the Mediterranean Sea. Whatever had been driving her only seemed to feel stronger as they both turned their horses to the Troad.

"I feel I could travel this way blindfolded," Jess said as they passed Myrίna. "As I get closer I am getting more of Jacinta's memories. Somewhere in them is a clue as to what happened to her and how I can find her."

* * *

Elena brought the crying baby out and cast around for her fellow wife.

"Such a fuss, such a fuss." She laughed as she passed the small baby to her friend to feed. "Just like her father, she loves her food, and just like her mother she has a loud voice."

Kynane smiled as she took her daughter and moved over to sit in the shade. She pulled one breast loose from her chiton and guided the tiny mouth to her nipple.

"She feeds so well." Elena sat beside her and put her arm around Kynane and kissed her, smiling down at her tiny child. She gently began to lightly massage Kynane's shoulder and upper back. "That's not distracting is it?" she asked.

"Not with you doing it," Kynane murmured. "It feels good."

Kynane felt the tingling feeling in her breasts with the milk let-down.

The baby's hungry sucking slowed as it didn't have to work as hard. Elena passed Kynane a cloth for the other breast which had started to drip and moisten her dress.

"You're good at this. You're like an old cow." Elena laughed.

Kynane giggled.

She realised how happy she was. She had the love of a wonderful man and had this adorable new little person settled in her arms so full of love and trust. She was surrounded by the sisterhood and companionship of her Amazónes, and she had Elena. Dear Elena, so gentle and loving, but still tentative and lacking in confidence after all she had been through. She was the sister Kynane never had.

Did her mother have this with her father's other wives, at least before Olympias came? Theirs had been an arranged marriage and yet Audata seemed content with whatever Philippos gave her. It had been an easy relationship between her parents, more like friends.

As she thought of her mother, she felt a stab of grief. Having her mother around at this time had been stolen from her and her little daughter. They had named her Audata for the grandmother that she would never see.

* * *

Jess

"Are you sure you don't mind visiting the Troad before your own family?" Jess asked as they trotted their horses deeper into the Troad.

"Jess, I'm not deserting you now. Besides, when we search for my family I want you with me."

"Pandora, I don't think I can tell you enough how much I love you." Jess's eyes teared. "Now that I am here, I feel scared. It all seems to be building up into a climax and I just don't know what I will find."

It was late in the afternoon as they followed the dirt road around a curve in the Skamandros River and the mud brick and wooden fort came into view. Jess had no memories of Hakeem's fort. Jacinta had never been there. This was rich farm land and there was a pleasing amount of livestock. They turned their horses towards the nearby village and the main road leading to the fort. "It looks prosperous and restful at least," Pandora remarked.

BANG!

It sounded like lightning hitting a tree and echoed back and forward across the valley. A great daimôn lord blinked into existence across the meadow leading to the fort.

"Oh, oh," Jess gasped in fear. "So that's why I had to hurry."

Jess let go of her spare horse and snatched for her gorytos.

"Stay here, Dora. It looks like we are about to see if I can fight a daimôn. If not, it will be a brief and very one-sided fight. I may as well start with a daimôn lord, I suppose!"

* * *

Hakeem

"My Lord! My Lady Kynane!"

One of the newer women was shouting.

"A daimôn lord has appeared and is making for the fort."

Hakeem took the steps three at a time up to the walkway and looked where the lady sentry pointed. The gong was sounding frantically. The light was starting to fade but they still could see a huge red daimôn at least nine feet tall, shambling, as fast as it could, towards their fort.

Between it and the fort was a black woman riding hard. In an impressive display of horsemanship and archery, she turned in her saddle and began firing arrows back at the daimôn behind her. They were having no discernible effect.

"Who is that lady, is the daimôn chasing her?" Elena yelled, appearing at Hakeem's elbow.

"I don't know who she is, my Lady," the scout replied. "She galloped across to it from near the village, as if she was trying to prevent it reaching us here. Whoever she is, she has courage to the point of madness, but I fear it will only earn her her death."

Hakeem clenched his jaw, willing the woman's horse to gallop faster.

"This daimôn isn't friendly," he said.

"I'm afraid not, my love," Elena replied next to his elbow. "It is the one that Æloðulf sent to kill me and the same one that attacked Ba'al. I fear it has somehow followed me here."

The stranger holstered her bow, abandoning her attempt to shoot the daimôn. At the bottom of the hill she jumped off her horse and grabbed at a shield, slapping her horse's rump hard with her sword. Then she began jogging up the winding road to the gate.

"Hakeem," Elena shouted. "Get everyone out. It is me it is after, I can delay it." Elena's eyes were glowing yellow. She gave a low growl as she watched the approaching daimôn.

The female warrior ran up the entire slope leading to the fort carrying her sword and shield. Outside the barred gate, she turned, bent over panting for a moment and then crouched, ready, hefting her sword and shield.

The gate opened slightly and a great hand stretched out to catch her by the back of her leather armour and drag her to the temporary safety of the fort. Jess found herself pulled into the embrace of two bearlike arms and squashed against a muscular chest. A handsome face smiled down at her.

"Umph!" she said.

Part of her felt like staying exactly where she was.

"You must be Hakeem, but you're married aren't you?"

Hakeem looked at her, a little puzzled. "I have two wives, yes, but who are you?"

What a pity, of course he would be married!

"My name is Jess! We can talk later; if we live. I am a changeling and my other form is a daimôn. If you promise that none here will kill me because of it, I will try to fight this thing for you. I think that is why I have been brought here from a place far away."

"I would never permit any hurt to come to you just because you are a changeling."

"Thank you, Lord. Please get everyone else away. Can you help me with this wagon?" She ran over to push a wagon against the gate.

"Will it help?" Hakeem asked.

"I don't think so. You should have reinforced your mud bricks."

"I'll remember that next time," Hakeem said as, in a feat of strength, they overturned the wagon against the gate.

"Lord, get everyone else away!" Jess repeated.

Hakeem shouted to the remaining Amazónes. He had to shout angrily to make them obey.

"Now you too, Lord," Jess insisted. "You cannot fight this thing. If I have to try to protect you too, it will only get me killed."

"I don't need you to protect me."

Jess glanced around and saw Kynane standing ready, holding a javelin; she could see the power swirling over it. "Lady, you are breast feeding. I can smell it on you. What do you think you are doing here?"

"Jess, my name is Kynane. I am the best here with javelins."

Jess nodded. "Kynane, try not to use it. If you kill a daimôn its energy will come to you and kill you."

Just then the daimôn hit the gate with a deafening crash and Jess saw Elena.

"I know you!" Jess said in recognition. "You are the Queen, Jacinta's mother. You bear the mark of the daimôn realm."

"I was held captive there for two years," Elena replied.

"Well, are you ready to fight this thing, my Lady?" Jess quickly stripped so she only had a sash which she pushed her knife in it. As she took off her gloves, her left hand glowed faintly in the failing light. "Maybe this will work for daimôns, as Jacinta's did."

Then she transformed.

"Jez!" Elena shouted excitedly. "It's you! Hakeem, this is the small daimôn that came to protect me. It's her, it's Jez!"

"Well Lady, now I have the answer as to what I am." The daimôn spoke thickly. "It is bitter news. I am a daimôn who has managed to take human form. Try to save yourself. You are with child, it is a boy."

Elena cried with joy. "Now I will make sure I will live."

She also began hurriedly to take her clothes off.

Hakeem wondered what it was with these women taking off their clothes before battle.

There was a mighty clap like thunder. The ground shook and cracks appeared in the nearby wall.

"This one has great magic!" Jez shouted. "It is all coming back to me. Its name is Mot, which means 'death'.

"All of you! Run! Mot is a match even for Ba'al himself."

Elena was now in daimôn form; she just bared her teeth in a snarl. Hakeem and Kynane merely grinned back at Jez.

Fools! Jez thought, shaking her head. I have come all this way to find a land of fools!

Then another explosion rocked the fort. A section of the wall near the gate crumbled. There was dirt and dust billowing up everywhere.

"Mot!" Jez threw her head back to scream in challenge. "This is not your world. Leave now before you are destroyed."

"Jez, good!" Mot laughed. "Time I destroyed Ba'al's little lieutenant!"

He didn't wait to tear down the gate. He leapt over it, his shoulder crashing into the entrance hall as he landed. The whole fort shuddered and more buildings began collapsing.

Mot rose up to his full height, his huge red body shimmering with power, his tail lashing.

Jez ran at an angle past him to distract him. "Jez, no!" Elena screamed.

Mot threw a bolt of power at Jez, which exploded as it hit. Jez appeared to the side rolling and scrambling to her feet.

By the Gods, she's fast!

Mot tried again but Jez shot between his legs. She tried to bite at his leg but he laughed and kicked her behind him. She twisted her body to land on her feet.

Elena snarled as she ran at him from the side.

"Bitch of an elf, there is no one to save you now."

He swivelled to meet the small yellow haired daimôn. But he screamed in rage and pain.

Jez had grabbed his calf with her left hand.

"It works!" she screamed in triumph. "It really works!"

Nothing these puny beings did should be able to hurt him, but his leg burnt like it was on fire.

He spun to confront Jez but she was gone, running back towards the gate. Elena hit him from the other side and raked her claws across his leg. He turned to deal with her when Kynane appeared from nowhere and threw the last charmed javelin.

He took it full in the chest.

"Run, Kynane!" Hakeem screamed.

Kynane ducked around the corner as the daimôn sent a burst of power after her. She was lost to sight as the building wall collapsed, dragging the roof over with a load crash. A dense cloud of dust went high into the air. Broken tiles sprinkled down everywhere.

The daimôn pulled out the javelin and looked at it, perplexed. It was dark with small sparkles through it. He could feel a burning cold spreading from where he was struck. He was weakening

For the first time he felt fear. This was a trap. What evil magic had Ba'al taught these humans?

Well, he would take all of these beings with him. As he sent a burst of power at the yellow haired daimôn, a black blur collided with it just as the blast struck.

Jez felt like a house had fallen on top of her. Elena was in better shape and was scrambling to climb out from underneath her.

Jez looked at her hand. It was shining with silver light and silver sparkles were running all over it. The daimôn blast had fed it power!

Could she transfer the power to her knife blade as Jacinta had done with her javelins? She carefully moved her knife across and clutched the blade in her left hand. She was struggling to get off Elena at the same time.

Hakeem appeared at her elbow.

"No time," she gasped. "We have killed it but it is slow to die. It will destroy us all first."

She pushed the handle of her knife into Hakeem's hand. The blade was dark with strange sparkles like stars running over it.

Hakeem looked at her in awe. "Who are you? What are you?"

Jez merely shook her head weakly. Her body was in agony and she was trembling with cold. "Cut his hamstring while he is distracted!

"Elena, if you want to keep the tiny baby you carry, run now. There is nothing more you can do."

Hakeem ran forward and stabbed the daimôn in his calf. Mot screamed, a terrible sound, and kicked him into a corner. Jez managed a teetering run and with the last of her strength threw herself on top of Hakeem to shelter his body. Mot lunged after her but only ended toppling towards them.

Jez held her left hand out. It had to be her that had killed him in the end if she was to absorb the energy.

Her hand pushed deep into his chest, sucking his power into her body.

Then the universe exploded around her.

* * *

Jess struggled weakly.

She felt a hand pushing her back onto the bed as someone leant over to kiss her.

"Jess you are safe. It's me, Elena."

"I'm a daimôn, I know that now," Jess protested feebly. "Don't trouble yourself with something like me, Great Queen."

She realised she was wearing clothes. "Someone has touched my body; they must have found it disgusting. Better to have left it where it was."

"Jess! Don't you dare talk like that, or you will make me really angry with you!" Elena kissed her again. "You have saved my life twice. You have saved Hakeem and Kynane and many others that I love. You are more than our friend, you are part of our family!"

"You would say that?" Jess was overcome. She looked at the elf queen through a sheen of tears. "You would say that to such as me?"

Jess was too weak to sit up but Elena bundled her up and hugged her, tears were running down both their cheeks. "But you are a queen, you know the thing that I am."

"I know exactly what you are, Jess. You are a dear and true friend who happens to be a daimôn. I have a daughter who is in love with a daimôn lord, don't you forget it."

"She's awake!" she called over her shoulder.

Hakeem and Kynane came in from another room and hugged and kissed her. All Jess found she could do was to cry.

"Where's Pandora?" she asked eventually. "Please tell me she is safe."

"Your friend tried to stay awake the whole time. Eventually she collapsed and is now fast asleep. She is not the only one who waited by your bedside," Elena said with a smile.

Jess tried to stifle a yawn and was fighting to keep her eyes open.

"Why am I so tired?" she asked.

"That would be my fault," Hakeem said with a grin. "You changed back to human form but you almost died defending me from a great explosion. You were in really bad shape. I was frightened I couldn't heal a changeling but it was no different in the end. You will feel tired for many weeks."

Jess didn't hear him, she had fallen asleep. She had a contented smile on her face. She had never known a home. Finally she was at home surrounded by friends.

* * *

The voice in her mind woke her much later. "For a moment I thought you were Jacinta, who are you?"

"No, I am a daimôn who works for Ba'al. I know you; you are Sophie!" Jess called out in delight.

"You know me? I just arrived by boat at Abydos. You really are a lot like Jacinta."

"Elena thinks it is because I formed a daimôn bond with her. I am hoping to get Jacinta back but," Jess yawned, "I will have to recover my strength first and then find out how."

"Well, can you get Kynane to send an escort to pick me up? I have two novices with me."

 

 

Chapter 20: The Search for Jacinta

Pandora, Sophie, Kynane and Elena had gathered around Jess's bed to talk about looking for Jacinta.

"They say it is an area of nothingness from which reality is created," Jess said. "I want to search there, but I don't know how."

"It seems to be easier and safer for daimôns to move in that place than those from this realm." Sophie agreed.

"It still sounds dangerous," Pandora said.

"I don't care," Jess said. "Jacinta has this wonderful family that loves her. It is my job to get her back. Ba'al might know. If only I could get more of my own memories!" she felt like screaming in frustration. "I am starting remember some of the fight to rescue you, my Queen."

"What I can't understand was how you were rescuing me at the same time you were travelling with Pandora," Elena said.

Jess ground her teeth in frustration; for her, the rescue was a couple of years ago, before she ended up in the desert.

For Elena it was recent. Everything seemed to be going around in circles and she felt so sleepy, it was hard to think.

"If you are a daimôn, can you be in two places at the one time?" Kynane asked.

"Only if she is one of the greater gods," Sophie replied.

"So I am a god now?" Jess giggled. "First I was a changeling. Then an angel, then a daimôn, and now a god."

"Mot said you were Ba'al's lieutenant," Sophie said. "And you are faster than other daimôns. That's why you were sent to defend Elena till Ba'al and Jacinta could get there. You must have been there when Ba'al tried to transition and he was attacked. The energy he was using must have misfired onto you. It sent you back in time and half way across the world."

"So where is Jacinta?" Jess asked.

"I think Jacinta will be trapped in the region of nothingness while ever you hold the energy that was supposed to transport her," Sophie said softly.

Jess looked at Sophie in fear. "So while I exist here, Jacinta cannot return."

Sophie suddenly realised what she had said. "No, Jess! That's not what I meant."

"That is why I have been getting her memories," Jess looked to Elena. "All that has to happen is for Hakeem to kill me and you can have your daughter back."

Pandora and Elena cried out in unison, "Noooo!"

Elena turned on Sophie, in a fury.

"Get out of my sight, you witch! How dare you say such a thing to Jess?"

The little elf girl went pale, her eyes teared. "I never meant ..." and then she turned and fled.

"My Lady, don't be angry with Sophie. What she says makes sense," Jess insisted. "I had a bond with Jacinta as Ba'al's lieutenant, and I am here instead of Jacinta. That is why I resemble her so much. But I am a daimôn. If you can find a way to kill me, you can have your daughter back."

"Jess!" Elena went red with anger. "Don't be a complete and utter fool! Jacinta would never want you to sacrifice yourself, even if this were true."

"I don't belong on this plane." A tear ran down Jess's cheek. "I don't think I can ever find my way back."

Pandora was horrified. "Jess, I love you. Doesn't that count for anything?"

"Jess, don't you talk like this!" Elena added. "We are your family."

"Thank you both. I'm sorry," Jess said. "Maybe I'm just too tired to think clearly."

"Do you want me to sleep in this room?" Pandora asked, alarmed at her friend's mood.

"No, my love." Jess smiled at her reassuringly. "I can rest better if I am alone, I'll be all right, really I will. I just got a little silly for a bit, that was all."

Elena and Pandora stormed out together, in search of Sophie.

Once they had left, Jess got up and carefully closed the door.

She knew what she had to do.

She began to meditate, deeper and deeper till she found a certain staircase inside herself.

After that her weariness was gone. She lit a candle and quickly wrote a note to her friends. She stole some food from the kitchen.

Out of habit she almost took her sword and her bow but then she laid them aside. Her knife was all she needed for this.

Then she went to the stables and saddled her horse and led it to the gate. The sentries challenged her but she said Hakeem had sent her on an errand. With a joke about Hakeem and his strange requests she walked her horse to the bottom of the hill. When she could no longer be seen from the fort in the light of the half moon, she mounted and encouraged her horse to a trot.

Sophie couldn't sleep. She burned with shame and felt more than just a little battered from her encounter with Elena and Pandora, both together. She thought for a moment that they were going to physically attack her.

She shot up straight in bed. That was it!

She knew what had happened to Jacinta. She had to tell Jess immediately.

Of course. It was so obvious, why couldn't she have seen it before?

She went hurrying towards the room where Jess had her bed. As she passed the common room, she paused to see Elena sitting there. Elena glowered at her but Sophie was bursting with excitement.

"My Lady, did Jess have anything with her when she arrived here?"

Elena was puzzled by the question. "She had a pendant. It was very strange — of metal, like bronze. I had meant to ask her about it."

"About two inches long, covered with red marking?" Sophie asked, thrilled.

Elena nodded. Sophie was grinning uncontrollably.

"The answer to everything was right under our noses. Now I know what happened to Jacinta. We need to wake Jess!"

"You will explain to me before you dare test any more of your cursed theories on that poor girl," Elena said coldly.

Sophie nodded. "Jess is like Jacinta in so many ways, now I know why."

Elena looked at Sophie suspiciously. Was this another crazy theory that would hurt her Jess?

"Her pendant is the magical svartálfar key. It is the key to the room that exists in 'No Place'. Of course, it is, and of course Jess was wearing it." Sophie said excitedly. "The room can be used to travel great distances. It exists in that region without time and space; the region that lies between our realm and the daimôn realm. What did your daimôn servants call you?"

The question surprised Elena and for a moment she smiled at the memory.

"Only the bigger daimôns can talk like us. The smaller ones called me Ee'la." Then she looked at Sophie in shock. "You can't mean!"

"I do mean it!" Sophie said excitedly. "What would the daimôns call Jacinta?"

"J'ezz!" Elena whispered, her hand to her mouth in shock. "They would call her Jez."

"Jacinta stepped out into the region without time and space," Sophie said breathlessly. "Somehow she found her way into that room that exists there. She somehow used it to travel into the desert but she arrived a couple of years in the past. All of what happened to her affected her memory."

She continued, talking rapidly. "You never saw Jess and Jacinta together, did you?"

"It was all confused," Elena said, casting her mind back. "Ba'al's army was attacking Æloðulf's fortress. Æloðulf' had set up protection spells but it seemed that the whole of the universe trembled. Æloðulf suddenly appeared near me with Mot. Æloðulf was badly hurt and I could tell almost at the end of his strength.

"The Illvættir had lost.

"I felt joy but also terror. Æloðulf was my jailor but he was also my protector in that terrible place. I think he really did love me. For all I knew these new daimôns would kill me or worse.

"He said he was sorry. He said he didn't want the other daimôns to get me and told Mot to kill me. Then he sort of faded, it was the last I saw of him.

"The daimôn world is a brutal place but the Illvættir saw daimôns as evil, which they are not. The Daimôn lord Mot never liked me but when he tried to kill me, the lesser daimôns rushed to my defence.

"I felt so angry. I transformed into a daimôn for the first time then, but Mot was too powerful for me." Elena gasped. "Then Jez was there. She was no bigger than me but she was faster than any daimôn I had ever seen. Soon after, Ba'al appeared with a noise like thunder and grabbed me up. Jacinta was there then. I didn't get a really good look at her face but I never saw Jacinta and Jez together. Before we could get away, Mot appeared again and attacked Ba'al.

"I could feel Jacinta step out, sacrificing herself, but had no way to grab her!" Elena closed her eyes in pain with the memory. "But Jacinta doesn't look like Jess."

"My Queen!" said Sophie intently. "You absorbed some daimôn substance even though you were far from the surface. Your features are different now, it made you a changeling and it affected your memory.

"Jacinta arrived in the realm with daimôn substance already inside her. She travelled the surface and killed scores, maybe even hundreds of daimôns for all I know. She would have absorbed their substance.

"It doesn't affect daimôns this way, but it must have been overwhelming that part of her that was human. Being a paladin, she was able to resist for a time, but not forever. She probably knew it was happening but refused to leave until she had found you. In the end she was losing her memories and control of her daimôn side.

"Think of Jez the daimon with her black skin and a large jaw line. Think of your daughter as you last saw her. Now add just a little bit of Jez and what do you get?"

"I get Jess!" said Elena, leaping up with joy. "Jess is Jacinta! Of course, she is! Why couldn't we see it?"

They lit a candle each and ran to Jess's room, bursting in together.

"She is gone!" Sophie cried out in horror.

On the table there was the key to the room that existed nowhere. To Sophie/Maerwen it was unmistakeable. Underneath was a letter.

Sophie started to read and then gasped, ashen. "What have I done?"

She almost dropped the letter.

Elena snatched it from her.

'Great Queen Elena,

I now know my existence in this world is all that is preventing your beautiful daughter from returning to you. This must stop now, while a chance remains.

I hope you know I never meant to steal the life of another. It must be the reason why I am becoming troubled by the memories that belong to your wonderful daughter.

I had thought it would be best for Hakeem to kill me, but I realise this might put him at risk, and maybe my body would poison the very ground. I know now how this must be done.

Tell Pandora I love her but I cannot stay with her being what I am, I hope she understands that.

I hope she will find her way home. Home is something that is forever lost to me. I only knew you all a short time. Despite what I am, know that I love you all very deeply. For a time you helped me feel like a person rather than the thing I really am.

I go now to gladly give the one thing I can give for my friends. I have travelled far for an answer as to what I am, I have travelled here to help bring your daughter home. Now it is only a short journey. I hope, despite knowing what I am, you will remember me a little and know I loved you all,

Jess'

Elena crushed the letter to her and screamed in agony.

"NO! DEAR GODDESS NO! NOT JACINTA! NOT LIKE THIS!"

From the hallway came the sound of running feet.

* * *

Jess

"Jess!" a voice sounded in her mind.

"Sophie! I'm sorry. You know I don't just seek death, as my substance will poison the ground. I am getting Jacinta's memories and it has given me the answer. I hope she gets her own memories back when I am gone.

"This is painful for me. It is surprising that one such as I would feel so much pain at the thought of my existence ending. It feels lonely to die without a friend by my side and so far from home. I have no right to ask this but please think of me sometime. I am putting up a barrier against you now. I must do this alone or my courage will fail!"

"Jess!" Sophie shrieked in desperation, "Jess!"

But she was blocked.

The fort was in turmoil. People were rushing everywhere to join the search and groups of mounted women were still assembling. They had found Jess's horse not far away but the trail was cold in the darkness.

Elena and Kynane had rode back to give the news to the other searchers.