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

Sophie came running out of the house with tears streaming down her cheeks. "Lady, she refused to listen to me."

"Haven't you done enough, Sophie?" Elena said in a cold fury. "Just let me search for my daughter. Pray to the Goddess we can find her in time."

"But my Lady, she said something," Sophie insisted. "She is starting to get her memories but she doesn't think they are hers. She said, 'You know I don't just seek death as my substance will poison the ground."'

"What's that you said?" Elena froze looking at Sophie.

"She talked not of dying but of ending her existence."

"Sophie!" Elena yelled. "I may forgive you yet. If you wish, you may come, but no one can wait for you. We must ride as if the Erinyes (furies) themselves ride at our very heels. Do you think she can get past our elves undetected?"

"I'm coming too!" Pandora demanded, leading a saddled horse.

"What does it mean?" Kynane asked, confused.

"Jacinta isn't just going to kill herself. She plans to cancel her existence and destroy her very soul! She is making her way to the ruins of elvish Troia. It's where she hid the book that cannot be read. She hopes to use it to destroy herself," Elena said. "Don't you understand? She will be gone without any hope of redemption!"

Kynane went pale in horror to hear such a dreadful thing. "We must stop her!"

Sophie had leapt onto a horse and the stable hands raced to shorten the stirrups. Pandora was already mounted, waiting and looking very frightened.

Kynane was shouting orders to her Amazónes and a small group of her six favourites led by Anastasia joined the four of them.

The women were bearing torches and were about to light them when Sophie started to mutter harshly and they were surrounded by a glow that allowed them to see in the dark.

The horses were unsettled by it and it took a moment to settle them, and then they were off, galloping to elvish Troia.

* * *

Jess smiled as she approached the ruins of elvish Troia.

Clever Sophie! Clever Elena! They were here before her!

Jess was fast and slow to tire in her daimôn form but she couldn't outrun horses.

She felt deeply moved to think her new friends would try to stop her. It made her hesitate. They thought she was worthy of saving despite the dreadful cost.

They had roused the elf camp. She had no intention of harming anyone even if it ended in her capture. The elves have good night vision but nothing like what she had.

Can you sneak through a camp of elves, you sneaky little daimôn?

Half way up the hill, she froze. She smelt an elf in hiding. She had to back-track a little and circle around. There were several elves guarding the ruins but they were too confident.

Typical elves! They didn't realise in the dark she was infinitely better than they were.

She deliberately by-passed the entrance to the excavation and found a back way in. There was a pulley to lower goods. She secured it and rapidly let herself down.

In the impenetrable darkness even the keenest eyed elf would have difficulty seeing a black figure making her way down the long rope to the bottom.

Even for Jess, it was a long and difficult climb. Half way down her arms and back were burning.

Silly little daimôn! Did you really think you could lower yourself all the way with only your arms? She grimaced and blocked out the agony as much as she could and twisted the rope around her legs so she could rest.. Still, it was as if her body cried out in torment. It would be a great irony if she fell and killed herself only to desecrate the holiest sanctuary of the elves.

At the bottom she crouched in agony. For a moment she couldn't move, couldn't straighten. She felt like she had been pounded by iron bars.

* * *

"Lady Elena!" The elf guard Homeros pointed to the tracks. "See she managed to get past our guards and has entered the catacombs."

Elena was dizzy with terror. Once Jacinta made it into the catacombs, there was no chance to stop her. As fast as they could, they scrambled down the ladder. At the bottom, Elena paused in despair.

"Where to from here?" Kynane asked.

"Only Jacinta knows," Elena said, feeling desperate. "We have to follow her tracks!"

"That's no good, the tracks are too confused," Kynane shouted.

Sophie muttered under her breath. A series of glowing foot prints appeared on the floor.

"Sophie, remind me to take you on my next hunt," Kynane gave her a crooked smile.

"Let's go!" Elena shouted urgently.

"I don't think we can catch her, she is too fast," Kynane said.

Elena merely flashed a frantic look and disappeared, carrying a torch borrowed from the elf guards. Even the Amazónes with all their training couldn't keep up with the desperate elf.

Up ahead, Kynane could hear Elena screaming.

"Jacinta! Please, no! Jacinta!"

They were too late.

The elf was huddled up against the rock, pounding on it weakly with her fists, her torch hissing on the floor. The way was barred. There was a figure of Silver standing in front of it looking at them angrily.

"You cannot pass!"

"You cannot pass!"

It was repeating it over and over.

It was a projection.

Sophie stared at the unbroken surface of rock, dismayed. "The way is sealed to all but Jacinta."

"Who's this?" Pandora pointed to the projection of Silver.

"Her name is Silver. She is the last of the svartálfar," Elena explained tiredly. "She sacrificed herself to be the guardian of the book. She was awoken when the daimôn fire triggered the book's defences the first time."

"It was she that saved Jacinta when one of the spells attacked her," Sophie added.

"Will Silver recognise Jacinta and help her?" Kynane asked.

"I don't know," Sophie said. "She may see her daimôn side and think her too dangerous. Guarding that book is far more important than Jacinta's life. Silver will not take any chances with it."

* * *

Silver

Jess was moving rapidly through the darkness towards where the book was concealed.

Up ahead, she saw a slender woman with a pale complexion, soft silver hair and elfin ears. She was very beautiful, dressed in an exquisite dark blue gown. Incongruously, she was sitting casually on a stone coffin. She had to be some sort of projection.

"You are Silver, the guardian of the book." The memory stirred for Jess. "I'm glad to meet you."

"Are you?" Silver asked acidly.

"Are you really? Well, I'm most certainly not glad to see you! What I am is disgusted and angry. How dare you come here! And you bring an army of followers trailing behind you. Now we will have to move the book again.

"This book has enough power to destroy heaven and earth, it is not your play thing. Don't let me think I made a mistake selecting you. Now explain to me this complete idiocy about killing yourself. How can you be so stupid? Tell me that!"

Jess was taken aback.

She felt hurt. She had come here to not only end her life but to destroy her very soul. Surely that wasn't a trivial matter and yet Silver was treating her like a naughty child.

"Silver," Jess tried to explain. "I am not Jacinta. My name is Jess. I am a daimôn and I have to destroy myself so Jacinta can return."

"So, Jess, as you call yourself! You are supposed to be chosen for your wisdom, not for your stupidity." Silver's lip curled in disgust. "Sophie suggested you needed to kill yourself to save Jacinta. That was never true. Did you weigh the evidence? Did you stand strong, as you were meant to do? Did you face what your God has asked you to bear? No! You jumped at the chance to kill yourself.

"And do you want me to tell you why? It is because you are a coward. And you expect me to welcome you with open arms?"

Jess bowed her head and tears were starting. "Silver, I am a daimôn!"

"So what?" Silver sneered. "Oh Silver, pity me! I am part daimôn and I don't like it very much!

"How would you like to be the last of a race that has brought so much evil into the world?"

"But I am so ashamed." Tears blurred her vision.

"Is that all, Jess?" Silver asked, her voice softer. "Shame. That is what your God has asked you to bear. Is it such a terrible thing? Do not run from it."

"I am a thing!" Jess cried out in agony. "I am disgusting!"

"What you are, girl, is supreme in your arrogance!" Silver pointed at her. "How dare you see yourself that way?"

Jess looked up in surprise. She didn't think she was arrogant.

"You are loved by so many. They see you as beautiful and wonderful, but you are so arrogant you say they are wrong and you are right. You only choose those opinions that fit with yours.

"They need you! What will it do to Pandora if you kill yourself? Have you even thought of her? What would have happened to her without you? And Elena or Hakeem or Kynane? They all want to love you but you won't let them. All you want to do is hurt them, wound them in a way from which they can never recover. And why? Because you can't bear the shame of being a daimôn. You have been sent by a God! The Dastur explained that to you, didn't he? You know that it is true. If a God chose a daimôn or a changeling, how dare you say you are unworthy? Do you think you are greater even than your own God?

"You have ended much evil already. Those shepherds, those devil worshippers, those bandits; you destroyed Mot. And your task is not finished. Would you defy the will of your God by ending your life and running away?"

"Aach!" Jess bowed her head and fell to her knees, her head in her hands.

"You are right," she whispered eventually, her voice harsh.

Her God had asked. He had demanded, that she carry her shame.

It was a final lesson in humility. It was shame that had driven her to become a better person than she could ever have been. She had been given incredible power and she would be given more. She could become as much a danger to her and her friends as to her enemies.

It needed to be balanced by humility. And so she was given shame.

It was a gift.

Why was the feeling of shame so hard to bear?

Well, she had to find a way.

But that left one problem.

"I wish to bring Jacinta back for her friends and family," she said. "But I don't know how."

"You have to accept your true nature, only then can Jacinta return."

Jess smiled ruefully at the irony. "I was prepared to destroy myself for Jacinta and my friends. That was selfish. I hated myself and that was arrogant. Now you ask me to accept myself so Jacinta can find her way home?"

Silver nodded, she looked very weary.

Jess formally bowed to Silver. "I think what you ask is much harder than you imagine. I will try, but I will need a different kind of courage to what I am used to. I need to love myself despite things about myself that I hate. There is something I can do for you, isn't there, Silver? You look weak and tired."

"Jess, I was woken. I have lived too long," Silver said. "I am fading."

"You need something which I have in abundance. I will give it to you gladly ... and don't say you are unworthy!"

Silver smiled. "I was not willing to ask. It is life force I am losing. If I just take a little of your daimôn essence I can change it into all I need and more. I will feel reborn."

"You are afraid it will diminish me?"

Silver nodded.

Jess laughed. "Daimôn substance is something I have in abundance. You have my permission. Have as much as you want and need. Must I say more?"

Silver reached forward to touch her face gently.

Jess felt a dull pain move over her jaw. As she rubbed at it, her jaw and face felt different.

Silver passed her a mirror, as clear as water.

"See Jacinta in the mirror and know where she is."

Jess sighed as she looked.

"That really is Jacinta, isn't it? It's what she looked like in my dreams. Is this real?"

"Yes Jess, you are Jacinta." Silver nodded. "You stayed in the daimôn realm too long and absorbed too much daimôn substance. As a paladin you fought it, but when you got lost in the realm of nothingness the daimôn part of you had to take over or you could not have survived in that place.

"You lost the human part of yourself and lost your memories both of the daimôn world and your life before that. Since then you are slowly reasserting control and your memories are returning."

Then the Jacinta in the mirror smiled at her and Jess began to laugh. Once she started it was hard to stop. Silver looked at her in surprise, she didn't see any humour in it.

"I journeyed half way across the world to find out who I was. I was prepared to search the realm of nothingness for Jacinta. All I had to do was look in the mirror. The Gods do have a sense of humour. I wondered, but now I know."

Silver chuckled. "When I drained some of the daimôn substance to renew myself I also took that part that altered your appearance. It won't last, but you are a changeling, eventually you can learn to change your appearance at will."

Jess nodded. "I had to go on a long journey to face something that was inside me all this time."

"Before you go," Silver insisted.

She conjured the key that Jess had left at the fort.

"You will need this for the next part of your journey. It is the key to the room that exists in no place. You can use it to travel quickly from place to place. I will refresh your memory of how to use it.

"There is an invisible door here and there are other doors to match the great cities of that time. When you came out in the desert you arrived where a city had been long ago."

"How do I know where I am going?" Jess asked.

"You don't remember this but there is a dial and a lever and a screen that shows you a view of the region outside."

"It can also be used to travel in time," Jacinta said.

Silver shook her head, "The displacement in time happened while you were in the realm of nothingness. You're lucky much more didn't happen to you.

"We deliberately did not design the room to travel in time. If you really understood, you would never play with time or any of the worse things you could make the room do. Remember reality was created out of that region."

"You had the power to destroy the Illvættir."

"Yes, we did, but we didn't use it."

"To fight the Illvættir, was that why you made the elves?" Jacinta asked.

Silver hissed. Her hands flew to her face in shock.

"The elves were never the eldest." Jess pressed her. "Were they, Silver?"

"Of course not!" Silver said. "How silly of the elves to say that, and so typical of them. They believe the eldest were the best, so it had to be them.

"Humans were the eldest. All other types of man descended from them. The elves were the youngest and they were magnificent. They were the best thing that we ever created." Silver smiled at the memory. "We had foreseen a great war coming. Dwarves and Svartálfar lived to great ages but we both had few children so we could not win.

“In the end some humans helped, but humans are either too weak or too unreliable. They can be great. They can be wise and brave and good but then they tire of greatness and become evil or cowards or fools; especially when you put them in groups."

"So, you made elves. In some ways better than the svartálfar and more reliable than humans but they are fading." Jess said.

"Yes, it was slow at first but the elves are declining and the humans with their ten paces forward and nine paces back and with their good and bad will eventually pass them," Silver admitted. "The world can ill afford to lose the elves. Only if they combine with humans will the decline be reversed, at least for a while. Even the half-Elven will eventually merge with humans completely but that will take a millennium or more."

"That is the way that you made them," Jacinta said softly, "isn't it?"

"Jacinta, you scare me! How could you guess? Not me but yes, yes that was done. We Svartálfar did not want to create another Illvættir to rule the world."

"Did you think you were Gods?"

"Jacinta, we were Gods! We had all their power but none of their wisdom. It was lucky we were few."

"And hence, my mother and Seléne's task: the union of humans and elves. And that is why Ǽlward had to destroy the elvish magic, to cause the elves to fall, so they would be forced to unite with humans before all was lost! That is horrible, so much death and suffering."

Silver bowed her head. "Yes, but we paid our price too. Æloðulf thought he could reverse what was happening to the elves. He didn't understand there was only one way."

"Through love," Jacinta whispered.

"Yes, through love between elf and human. No one must know this."

"I will certainly not speak of it. I wish I didn't know it myself. I will help you hide the book now. I will come to visit you again one day, if I may."

"That is not needed," Silver said. "I have told you all that I will."

"I know. It must have been you that helped me when I was lost," Jacinta said evenly. "You have saved me four times now: after the battle with the daimôn, after I accessed my life force to heal my hand, when I was lost in the realm of nothingness and now you have saved me from myself.

"I owe you much, and I love you. There, I can say such a thing more easily now if I can only accept myself. And I know that you are lonely."

"Jacinta, is there nothing you cannot guess? I asked the room to call to you." Silver smiled. "I do not want to know how to search in that region. It is something I could maybe learn, but for me I think it is best not to know."

"You could become like a God," Jacinta stared at her levelly.

"I could be like a God if I wished, but I do not. We Svartálfar only became wise when it was too late."

Jacinta moved forward. To her surprise she found she could touch Silver; she kissed her and hugged her gently.

"I need to give you one more thing," Silver said, smiling.

"What's that?" Jacinta asked.

"Jess, you are naked. I will give you the illusion of clothes that you can conjure when you need to. For a changeling, you might find it ... convenient."

* * *

Out of the darkness, a large woman in a short silky apricot coloured shift emerged. Her legs were bare and she wore no shoes. She carried a knife in a black band belted at her waist.

As she got closer, they could see she had the features of a Gypsy. Elena rose to throw herself at her and collapsed uncontrollably into tears. Jacinta held her and cried along with her. The other women gathered around in relief. Jacinta tried to hug them all at once.

"Mother, it is coming back to me now," Jacinta murmured into the elf's hair. "I followed you to the daimôn realm and almost lost who I was there. For you I would do it again and again and again. I have had to travel half way across the world and reach the depths of despair to find out who I really am. If I was a little smarter, I would have looked in a mirror."

Elena clung to her daughter. "You came for me, thank you, Jacinta! It was a terrible place."

"Mother, I was there," Jacinta said grimly. "And there were things I saw ... I'm glad you never saw them. Yet sometimes even the daimôn realm has a power and a beauty all of its own."

"I thought I would lose you."

"I'm sorry for the hurt that I have caused everyone."

Finally Elena was comforted, though she refused to let go of her daughter. Jacinta then turned to Kynane. They were a close match in size.

"Kynane, if you permit, I would wish to call you mother also and if you agree I will call your daughter Audata my sister. But you must understand one thing."

Kynane waited.

"I am easily your better at the javelin and I long to show you."

Kynane threw her head back and laughed.

"Well, daughter of mine, I will look forward to making you eat those rash words." She pushed Jacinta playfully and then grabbed her and hugged her fiercely.

"And Sophie, dear, dear, Sophie." Jacinta continued to the red-haired elf girl. "You passed a thoughtless remark but it was a small thing.

"It was like a pebble thrown on the mountain-side that starts an avalanche. It was what was inside me that almost made it a tragedy. You are blameless. I had to face something inside myself that I was refusing to accept."

"And Pandora! I have hurt you deeply. To say I am sorry cannot express how badly I feel. A madness overcame me. I will have to work to earn your forgiveness."

She grabbed Pandora and kissed her passionately on the lips.

"Jess! Not in front of these people, what will they think?" Pandora blushed in the torch light.

Jacinta laughed. "You know, Pandora? I don't care. I hope you don't mind. For the moment, I'm not as black as I was, and my real name is Jacinta."

"I liked the black," Pandora considered a little regretfully, "but give me a chance to check the new Jess out. I'm sure I can adjust." Then Pandora beamed at another thought. "You're a legend, Jacinta. My girlfriend is a legend!"

After a moment Jacinta took a deep breath and addressed them.

"And now we have much to do, all of us. How many know I am Jacinta?"

"Just us here," Elena said.

"A few more will need to know, but for the moment we need to be quiet about this. Please call me Jess and think of me as Jess," she said. "Soon I will have to go to kill Gansükh. To be an assassin, Jacinta is just a little too famous by half. It would be too much to hope that a šamán like Gansükh and those around him won't know that someone is coming to kill him, or will try at least, but the less they know about me the better it will be."

* * *

Sophie was sitting sideways on Jess's lap and Jess had her arms wrapped around the small red-haired elf, hugging her. She was discussing war axes with Kynane. Elena and Hakeem were sitting next to each other and talking softly. Pandora was about to enter the room but she hesitated.

"Sorry." She coloured. "I didn't mean ..."

"Pandora," Jess said. "Please come in."

"But you are spending time with your family and I'm ..."

"Pandora, you are part of my family."

"This must be awkward for you, Pandora." Hakeem got up and dragged the embarrassed Greek girl into the room. "You have barely met us, and we suddenly transform into Jess's family. We are overjoyed to have her returned to us, but we did not mean to exclude you. Let us start again with you not as a guest, but as family." He hugged her and bent his head to kiss her cheek.

"You don't mind that we, that is I, we are, you know, both of us?" Pandora sputtered.

"I think she is asking if you are angry with her because we are lesbian lovers," Jess suggested helpfully.

"Uggh!" Pandora went crimson. She could have cheerfully strangled her girlfriend. It wasn't like Jess at all to say something like that!

"I don't care even a little about you being a woman and not a man," Hakeem said. "My daughter loves you, so you are family. Thank you for loving my daughter and be welcome into our house."

"Thank you, Kyrie," Pandora said shyly.

Elena appeared at Hakeem's side and moved forward to kiss her cheek. Sophie and Kynane came forward to greet her as a new family member.

"Jess is only trying to embarrass you," Hakeem said. "Did you know she is ticklish? She was worse when she was younger."

"No, I didn't," Pandora said. How could I have missed something like that?

Hakeem and Elena circled around to come at Jess from either side.

"HEY!" Jess ended up writhing around in the chair till she slid, laughing helplessly, to the floor and they had hardly touched her.

"That's not fair."

* * *

"Awwk!" squawked Jess.

She went sailing a short distance through the air to hit the mats with a thud, and a loud "oohpf".

Pandora, who was watching from the sidelines, winced. She wasn't used to seeing Jess being beaten in combat, but today her girlfriend was definitely having a bad day. Hakeem and Kynane were testing the gaps in her abilities, and they were finding them.

Early this morning Jess tried her hand at throwing axes. Kynane explained about axes to Pandora while she supervised Jess's practice. Pandora never knew there was so much to know about axes. Battle axes are lighter than axes used for chopping wood and generally have a smaller blade. "That is because a block of wood doesn't dodge and try to kill you back," Kynane explained.

The point of balance of a sword is just forward of the handle but the point of balance of an axe is in the head. They can't be used like a sword for defensive parries. In single combat without a shield they are no good against a skilled opponent with a long sword, but they are cheap, easy to make, easier to learn, and better for penetrating armour.

And it doesn't matter as much if the quality of the metal is poorer or the edge not as sharp as a sword. They can still do a lot of damage and they can be also be used to hook a shield or arm or a weapon.

So a battle axe, a kopis (machete) or a spear are much cheaper than swords, especially for rustic peasants, which might explain the popularity of axes in Illyria.

Axes that can be thrown are different. They need to be of better quality and sharper. They are designed to rotate once in flight and hit with the axe head so they require considerable skill. The target Kynane used for novices was soft wood and novices wore leg guards. Practice axes had a wooden handle, a single blade and the back of the head was blunt like a tent hammer. It reduced serious accidents, but not by much.

Jess's first axe bounced off the target, narrowly missing the spectators, getting them all to move well back. The second one brought her axe practice to an abrupt end by hitting her on the shin guard. It was by the blunt side but still enough to give an impressive bruise.

"Could be better, I think," was all Kynane said as she bandaged Jacinta's leg and helped her up.

After a bit of limping around, Jess faced her father in unarmed combat. An opponent wouldn't stop trying to kill her if she was injured.

"Stay there, Jess," Hakeem commanded before she tried to get up the fourth time and come at him again. "You're trying to overpower me with your strength. Have you forgotten about using my strength against me?" He helped her up and steadied her as she favoured her sore leg.

"Not bad, though. You could use the practice against a more skilled opponent. Do you want to rest now?"

Jacinta nodded. "I promised to take Pandora to the river for a picnic, o pateras ... I mean Kyrie. I'd like to start again tomorrow with the axes and fighting in formation if we are doing that."

Hakeem hesitated and Jacinta grabbed him and hugged him and kissed him on the cheek. "I'm still your daughter and I still love you desperately," she whispered.

Hakeem didn't answer but he coloured and his eyes teared.

They took a picnic basket and two horses the short distance to the Skamandros River. Jacinta wanted to show Pandora the swimming hole some of the girls used. It was a lovely day for it, warm and sunny. Pandora seemed unusually quiet on the ride out.

"All the locals are respectful of women bathing here," Jacinta said. "Or else, I suppose."

Pandora gave her a wan smile.

Jess spread a blanket and began unwrapping small parcels of cheese, meat, bread, olives.

Pandora sat on the edge of the blanket and looked out over the river while Jess worked.

"I don't know about you, Dora," Jacinta said, "but I'm really hungry."

Pandora merely nodded and continued to stare out over the river.

"I can help you search for your family now," Jess offered.

Pandora didn't turn around. "Jess, when you go to Azar Pāyegān," she said, her voice flat and distant, "I want to go with you."

"Pandora," Jess said softly, reaching out to her. "Love, you can't! Gansükh is a šamán. He has surrounded himself with beings of dark power. Maybe I'll be facing blood priests again and they almost killed me last time.

"He has an army of something like forty thousand men and he has likely arranged for his daimôn to appear if there is any threat to him and this is a daimôn lord we are talking about."

"And how will you be, without me there?" Pandora started to cry and angrily wiped at her tears. "Jess, you tried to kill yourself. I was losing you and you weren't even going to say goodbye to me! What if you need me again?"

As Pandora said it, Jess felt herself shrinking inside. Her heart felt like a weight in her chest and her face was burning with shame. Pandora began to sob; Jess put a tentative hand on her shoulder.

"Dora, Dora, Dora," she said and then wondered what she could say. "Never again, I will swear an oath to you on it." She took a deep breath.

"Being in the daimôn realm ... the time in the desert when I lost my humanity; it made me more than a little crazy I guess. To say I'm sorry ... I just don't know what I can say or do to make it up to you. I love you with all my heart. If it wasn't for you I would be even more crazy than I am."

She risked a teasing smile.

"Then I am going to Azar Pāyegān with you?"

"Pandora, no." Jess took her in her arms. "I am a very special assassin, trained by a God. I have to do this alone."

"Will you stop all this 'poor me' and 'I hate myself' nonsense." Pandora giggled and relaxed a bit.

Jess laughed. "Pandora, I will try."

"What about that dwarf city? That will be your next task."

"Yes, it leads up to the battle with Æloðulf. I have to admit I fear that even more than Azar Pāyegān."

"Then I will go with you there."

"Maybe. Can we talk about it later? You never give up, do you?"

"You know I don't." Pandora laughed. "I am going to join the Amazónes."

"Dora, that simply won't work," Jess said. "I won't take an apprentice into danger."

"Kynane has accepted me."

"What?" Jess looked stunned. "Oh all right, I will take you as my apprentice but you will have to wait till I am back."

"Jess, I don't want you training me."

"WHY NOT?" Jess sat up straight. I'm the best, after all.

"Jess, I love you. I want to go wherever you go, but I don't want to be a warrior like you. I want to help Asha. Someone has to look after you warrior girls."

"Dora, Dora," Jacinta laughed. "You are right. We do need looking after, at least I do. But let me eat some of this food before I start eating you out of hunger."

"You want to eat me?" Pandora giggled. "That sounds like fun. We had better have a swim first. I want to be tasty and not all sweaty."

* * *

Searching for Pandora's family

Jess and Pandora took the back road to Abydos and then joined the coastal road to Bithynia.

Jess would have loved to show Pandora Troia but until Gansükh was dead she didn't want 'Jess' to be seen there. The less Gansükh knew about Jess the better.

The port city of Astakos lay at the end of a narrow gulf in the Propontis. It was an ancient colony of Meyara, that early rival of Athens. It was most famous for its fishing, and was named after the Astakos, the local lobster.

They finally found her old house and Pandora nervously approached the front door and knocked. She called out for her mother, her father and her sister. A stranger opened the door, a small crack.

"Excuse me," Pandora asked. "Do you know what happened to the family that used to live here?"

"I can't help you. A lot of people disappeared in the war. You're not going to make a claim on our house, are you? We aren't going to move. The Lord Parmenion said that anyone living in these empty houses could stay. "

"I don't want your house," Pandora said through her tears. "I just want my family."

"I can't help you, I'm sorry."

The lady shut the door.

Pandora sat down on the step and Jess sat next to her.

"I don't know what to do." The tears began to run down her cheeks.

A door across the street opened and an old lady shuffled out to squint at them near sightedly. "Pandora? Is that you?"

"Oh, Myrrine," Pandora leapt up and brushed at her clothes and face to rush over and hug the old woman. "Jess, this was one of our neighbours. This is Myrrine."

"I thought you were all dead," the old lady said. "Come inside. Let me offer you some tea."

They went inside. It was a shabby one-bedroom house, empty of most furniture so they had to sit on the floor. She had had to sell her possessions, Pandora realised.

"I wish I had some cake to offer you but it has not been an easy time for us old ones, with the war and all," Myrrine said as she sat them down. "I'm better off than most, I have a niece so I don't have to beg on the streets, but she has her own family. What happened to you? You disappeared, all of you, five years ago when the Makedónes first came."

Pandora sighed. "The enemy had breached the walls. They were burning the town and killing people. You remember we had lost a brother and a baby sister to the fever. There was just my younger sister Ambrosia who was twelve and I was fifteen. My mother and father hid us under some rubble. They said they would come back for us but they never did.

"I said to my sister to stay there while I went searching for some food and water. One of the soldiers caught me. I was frantic to get back to my sister but he was very strong and kept hitting me until I stopped struggling. Then he tied me up. I became a captive and then a slave; I never saw my sister again."

"There were lots of stories like that." Myrrine's voice became harsh. "The Makedónes punished us for resisting."

"What happened to your son, your daughter-in-law and your grandchildren?"

Myrrine wordlessly shook her head.

They said nothing for a while.

A cat poked its nose through the open door and meowed.

"It's not my cat," Myrrine said. "But I feed it sometimes. Just don't let my niece know I go without to feed a cat."

They didn't stay long. There was little left to say. They left some money, at least they could do that.

They stayed at Astakos two full days, camping just outside the city walls; searching the city for news of a missing girl named Ambrosia who was twelve at the time of the war. It was fruitless and disheartening. And all the stories they heard about others who were caught in the war made it so much worse. So many people had gone missing.

Pandora was very morose as they rode back to the Troad.

"I guess I knew my parents were dead or they would have come back for us. I just couldn't bring myself to believe it. All those years as a slave, I kept getting the same dream.

"I would be outside my home with my sister. She would be twelve and I would be fifteen somehow. I would knock and my parents would push the door open wide for us. They would be both standing there waiting and smiling, holding their arms out. They would be so pleased to see us.

"Jess, why is it so great to kill people? Why is war is so glorious?"

* * *

They needed some time together, just to stop for a while. At Abydos Jess found a room in a house on the hill side available for short term rent. It was owned by a middle-aged widow, Agathe, and she was prepared to cook and wash and repair their clothes.

It was very comfortable inside with a view of the harbour and the promise of an evening breeze. It had its own private entrance through a garden shaded by olive and cypress trees and its own tiled bath room. It was empty for the next six nights so Jess booked it for the whole time. It wasn't cheap, so she didn't tell Pandora how much and Pandora uncharacteristically didn't even ask.

So they just relaxed, walking down into the town to do a little shopping, watch the fishing boats, have a swim together or a drink and a snack. Of an evening they would eat home cooking with lots of delicious sea-food before retiring to make love.

After their first love making, Jess wrapped a light wrap around her nakedness and moved to the window to watch the tiny lights of the squid fishermen in the water. "Dora?"

Pandora lay back, drowsing on the bed. "Mmm."

"There is someone I would like to see here."

"Jess," Pandora gave a yawn. "You know you can't contact anyone from your past. It is you that wanted to keep your identity secret."

"I wasn't going to meet with him." She coughed with embarrassment. "I just wanted to see him."

Pandora sat up slowly. "You mean you want to spy on a man, without him knowing who you are?"

Jacinta nodded. "From a distance, like."

"Jess, is this an old boyfriend?"

If Jacinta could have blushed, she would have.

"He's just a friend. He was an Anthypolochagos (junior lieutenant). It is over a couple of years ago now, longer for me than him. Still, he's probably forgotten about me by now."

"I doubt that." Pandora leaned forward with a wide grin. "Jess! You must tell me everything! Have you slept with him? Did you love him?"

"Yes, I did love him, once. No, I didn't sleep with him."

"But you wanted to."

Jess sighed. "Pandora, I wasn't joking about being a virgin before I met you and you know it's you I love. But I like men too, and Akhilleus was my first true love. He said he would wait for me, though of course they all say things like that."

Pandora laughed. "Jess, of course we have to see him. I have to see what he looks like."

The very next day, they went to the barracks to enquire about Anthypolochagos Akhilleus Kleiniou. Pandora seemed to find it hilarious that Jess was so nervous.

"I'm sorry, Kyra (Lady)," the duty sergeant apologised. "He is in Kyzikos but he should return in a few weeks. Should I say you were looking for him?"

"Oh, he wouldn't know us," Jess said. "Kyra Pandora here is a distant relative." Pandora favoured the man with a smile. "It was suggested we look him up when we were in Abydos."

"Disappointed?" Pandora asked as they walked away.

"Yes, more than I expected I would be." Jess sighed.

"I have an idea." Pandora tugged at her arm. "A swim; then some dakos, you know barley rusk topped with chopped tomatoes, feta, goat's cheese, olives and all those wonderful Greek herbs. I saw a shop selling it.

"Then we can go back to our room."

"What will we do when we get there?"

"We'll think of something."

"That's three ideas, Pandora. You said you had an idea."

"Two ideas, I hadn't thought about what we might do when we got back to our room."

That got a laugh and a kiss. "You're a liar, Pandora."

* * *

It was their last night in Abydos. They had fallen asleep in each other's arms.

Something woke Pandora. The candle had burnt out and the moon caste little light into the room. Jess was lying beside her but Jess didn't sleep much, so she was probably awake.

"Jess, can you tell me about the Deepest?"

Jacinta turned in the dark. "It was the last and most powerful of the three dwarf cities.

"I think by that time it was Æloðulf alone who attacked it. They say it took a long time to fall. They were so strong they shouldn't have had anything to fear. He didn't use daimôns that time. I don't even know what he used, but it or they are still down there somewhere."

Pandora trembled in her arms.

"Do you still want to go with me?" Jess whispered.

"I want to go with you, yes. I just don't want to go there."

Jess kissed her on the lips. "My brave Dora, after all you have been through, you would do that for me."

"Your time in the daimôn realm has gotten you ready for what you have to face," Dora said, thinking. "Did you love him?"

"What?" Jacinta sat up in bed.

"Ba'al, who else would I be talking about? Were you in love with him?"

All Pandora could see was the shape of Jess in the darkness.

"Yes, I was in love with Ba'al. Ba'al and I were, we still are, as close as two daimôns can ever possibly be."

"Jess, were you his wife?"

"Pandora!" Jess sighed. "Male and female doesn't mean the same thing to daimôns. There are very few female daimôns."

"Then how do daimôns do, er, you know?"

"It is considered very poor form to talk about." Jess said stiffly.

"Jess, you must be joking with me," Pandora snorted, sitting up. "Did you ever have sex with Ba'al or not? Or whatever it is you daimôns do?"

"Mix essences," Jess said coldly. "You girl, are obsessed. And the answer is yes. It happened when he carried me inside him. Dora, I don't ask you about any of your previous lovers. I don't see why you need to know about mine."

"Me and another woman or even a man, that's hardly the same thing as with a daimôn."

"Pandora, I am part daimôn. I am permanently bonded to Ba'al, in a way you could not understand.

"We fought a war together. It is something, he is something, I will never regret or forget. But he cannot return to live in this realm for maybe a thousand years. I don’t know how to return to the daimôn realm and if I do I stand to lose every part of me that is human."

* * *

'Anat, warrior Goddess

The great bronze statue of 'Anat, warrior Goddess of the North West Semitic people, sat on the elaborate marble throne they had made for her.

She was very slender and wearing a kalasiris (an Egyptian sheath dress) held by two shoulder straps and stretching from just above her breasts down to her ankles. In her right hand, over her head, she held a great mace. In her left hand she held a spear and shield which rested on the floor. On her head was an Egyptian crown.

Keresaspa, the leader of the war-band wondered, not for the first time, how she was expected to fight looking like that.

Of course, she was a Goddess or more correctly, this was just her statue. She was an Assyrian War Goddess but the statue was from Aígyptos (Egypt) and the Aígyptoi were very stylized with their art. For the Aígyptoi, the sheath dress was a sign of feminine nobility.

Keresaspa touched his head to the floor before HER image. Then he walked back to where Menna, the high priest, waited for him. He was seated behind a marble table and motioned for Keresaspa to sit. "Our Goddess has a task for you."

The air was heavy with incense. Menna sprinkled some seeds onto coals in a tiny brazier on the table. It gave off a cloyingly sweet-smelling smoke, thick and greyish-white. Menna waved some towards his face and inhaled and motioned for Keresaspa to do the same.

Menna showed no reaction to the drug but Keresaspa's head began to spin, his mouth went dry, his eyelids felt heavy, and a strange echo seemed to fill the room.

"Blessed is our lady of war," Menna intoned. "You are to take some men and to go to the village of Qori. There, in a house I will guide you to you will find a Hindu lady known as Rohana there and bring her to me."

Keresaspa's heart filled with joy and love for his Goddess.

"It shall be as you wish, Holy One." He bowed deeply.

Menna knew that to destroy this changeling sorceress he would have to let her inside the fortress and into his temple.

Inside he could destroy her.

First, he would need a hostage, one she would want to rescue.

* * *

Jess and Pandora

They stopped in the afternoon to camp by the Strymón River, the one in the Troad.

Tomorrow they would be back at the fortress. Pandora would enter the dormitory for novices and their time together would be limited.

"When will you leave for Azar Pāyegān?" Pandora asked.

"I need to visit Daniel and Sophie at Elgard to learn more about magic first, a lot more," Jacinta said. "I'm not sure how long that will take, but I'm not going to hurry it. Even if it takes a year, I'm not going to Azar Pāyegān until I am truly ready."

* * *

Qori

Iraj had gone to a nearby village to buy breeding stock and would be gone two nights. He was starting to build his flock.

Rohana smiled whenever she thought about his flock; their flock. She was going to be the wife of a shepherd, albeit a modestly wealthy one.

She had slept most of her life alone, and now she found it hard to sleep without her man. The warmth of his body, his gentle strength wrapped around her, the soft sounds of his breathing. In the day she ached for his smile, his touch, the wonderful way he kissed.

They had only been married six weeks. If this is what marriage was doing to her, what would it be like in thirty years from now?

She lay with the waning light of the moon coming faint through her window and thought about the ceremony: the tying of the knot, the egg and water to capture any evil and the fire to symbolise the hearth fire; the rice they threw at each other for good fortune (that was fun) and the blessings, the prayers and the songs.

She was definitely showing the bump of her pregnancy now and her new family were delighted. She hoped it would be a boy; she would like to have a boy for Iraj.

She was loved here, not just by her wonderful husband. His whole family had been so welcoming. It was nothing like the family she had been born into. She hadn't felt really loved since her father had died. Her mother could never love a heart cripple.

It made her think of Jess and Pandora. Had they reached the Troad? she wondered. Had Jess found out the answers she had sought? Had Pandora found her family?

A stealthy figure passed outside her window.

And then another.

Rohana jerked up with a fright. She quickly slipped her feet out of the bed. She gathered herself to run and yell and wake the house when a woman's scream split the night.

 

 

Chapter 21: 'Anat

Iraj finally fell into an exhausted sleep. In the small hours before dawn he was tossing and turning, his body soaked in sweat. In his dreams he tried to scream.

"My parents! Rohana!"

"Iraj?"

"Jess! Is that you? Am I dreaming?"

"Yes, you are, but you have reached me. Tell me what happened."

"I went to buy sheep. While I was gone raiders came in great numbers but they only attacked our house. They killed my parents and our man-servants. They took the rest of my household: my younger brother Peshana, my sister Asabanâ, my sister Mehrak and her husband Usmanara, their children, our two women servants ... and they took Rohana.

"I think they are from Arys; it is over a day’s ride from here. They have turned to raiding and slaving. No one from here will go with me.

"Jess, they tortured her. They cut off Rohana's finger and left it with the ring I gave her still on it. Playing her veena is her life."

"Iraj, slavers wouldn't do that."

"Who would do such a horrible thing?"

"Who would capture innocents and torture people? I think your slavers have a new religion."

"Aesma's blood priests?" Iraj moaned in his sleep.

It felt like Jess's heart had stopped.

Rohana, her dear beautiful, gentle Rohana captured by blood priests.

"Iraj, this is a trap designed for me. They must know you are my friends."

"Where are you? What are we going to do?"

"I am in the Troad but I have a way of travelling fast. I will come and spring this little trap that they have set for me."

"We can't go against them just the two of us."

"Not all at once, no," Jess said. "I may not be able to reach you through dreams again so don't do anything until I get there."

Jess threw her blanket off and walked to the window to look out. It was almost dawn.

She sat down to pack.

First, she dressed as an elf scout. She looked at the chain mail armour in agony of indecision. It was elvish design, light and strong, dull bluish in colour, good for stealth, but would she be doing a lot of sneaking around in human form or would it be in daimôn form?

She had better take it. Seléne had only recently sent it to her.

She checked her weapons for the umpteenth time, even the concealed knives in her boots and the throwing axes. Then she felt for the key hanging from her neck.

She couldn't put it off any longer. Time to say goodbye to the others.

She cautiously poked her face out of her door.

"You took your time coming out," Pandora said.

Jess almost jumped ten feet in the air with a guilty start.

Pandora was sitting, dressed for travelling. Her booted feet were kicked up on a stool.

"Where under the sun do you think you are sneaking off to, daughter?" Kynane was sitting next to her, dressed for war.

Hakeem wandered in from the next room to join them. Several Amazónes followed. Jess recognised Alba, Eirene and Anastasia. Everyone was dressed for war.

"Sophie!" Jess slapped her head in realisation.

"She said you were shouting in her head," Hakeem confirmed. "How many of us can fit in that room of yours?"

"With horses, weapons and armour, a score," Jess said. "That is if we keep other gear to a minimum, but the trip is almost instantaneous."

"A score of our best women and you and me," Hakeem decided. "You didn't think you were going all by yourself, did you?"

"Not at all," Jess said. Her eyes were blurred with tears.

"I didn't think that for a minute."

* * *

Qori

The bodies of Iraj's parents and their four workers were sponged with Gomez, the sacred disinfectant made from consecrated bull's urine.

They were placed on clean linen sheets so people could come and pay their respects. A small fire of wood soaked in frankincense burned in the corner and a dog was brought in twice a day to frighten the daēva of corruption away.

The elements: earth, water and fire are sacred, so dead bodies (which carry corruption) cannot be burnt or buried. On the second day they were conveyed to the dakhma (Tower of Silence) which lies open to the sky so the birds of the air can pick the bones clean.

Iraj and his cousins said the prayers of mourning for three days, the time that the urvan (soul) remained on earth.

They knew that on the fourth day, the souls of their loved ones would ascend to Chinvat (Bridge of Judgment). If they had been wicked, the bridge would appear narrow and the daēva Vizaresh would emerge and drag their soul into the druj-demana (Hell, the House of Lies).

If a person's good thoughts, words and deeds in life were many, the bridge would be wide and the deana spirit (angel) would appear and lead their souls joyfully to ascend to the House of Song, into the presence of their God. Iraj's parents had not been wicked. His mother had been a saint and his father would never hurt anyone.

Iraj ached from silent crying. Not everyone came, mainly cousins and the closest of friends. Many from the village were too ashamed ... and too afraid. The house had been targeted by the blood priests. Maybe if they visited they might become a target too.

On the morning of the sixth day, a heavily armed party rode through the village on the path leading to Iraj's house. There were twenty-two of them in all.

Their leader was a large powerful-looking man dressed in flowing robes of an Aramaic tribesman. The rest were female warriors, dressed as elf scouts and wearing leather armour. Each of them, barring only one, was wearing a glove on their left hand.

They were the famous Amazónes of Troia.

The people were amazed. No one here had ever seen any of the Greek Amazónes.

They lived half way across the world. Then they remembered, it was said that Iraj had worked for a powerful sorceress. That grim black woman riding amongst them, was that her?

It was said that she had fought blood priests before. Had she come to help them fight the evil that had come to their land? Had she brought warriors from the other end of the world in only a matter of days? It would not be enough, but one look at these grim women showed they were proper warriors. And who knew what else the mysterious black woman could do.

Many of the villagers remembered their courage then. They began to call to their neighbours to go to Iraj and offer their support.

All the family and visitors from the house crowded outside to wait for the arrival of these strange visitors and many people came running from the village to be there when they arrived.

Hakeem led his small war band to the gates of Iraj's parents' house. He stopped and leaned forward in his saddle to survey those present.

"My name is Hakeem. I am the Warlord of the Shantawi. These are the Amazónes and their leader Kynane. More fighters are on the way.

"We have come to share your loss and give you our pledge: we will stay here until we have stopped this evil once and for all, and have returned your loved ones to you."

There were too many for the house so they had to meet in the enclosed garden. Most of the Amazónes looked relaxed, talking quietly amongst themselves, but they rarely smiled and their hands never strayed far from their weapons.

Jacinta, Thaïs and Eirene had set up a small fireplace in the corner and were making tea and breakfast for everyone. Hakeem was conferring with Iraj, two of his cousins and some men from the village. There was a steady trickle of men offering their help.

Hakeem could speak Sogdiane so he translated for Kynane.

First up, he had some bad news for Iraj.

"We will be getting more people as soon as we can. But until such time, we can't carry out a frontal attack on their fortress. I'm sorry, but that is how it is."

"They have cut the finger off my wife's hand!" Iraj muttered.

Jacinta averted her eyes. Her heart burned at the thought of leaving her gentle friend in the hands of those monsters. She could only guess what it must be like for Iraj.

"This is a trap," Hakeem said heavily. "A score and however many you can take from the village will not be enough against two hundred inside the walls of a fortress. A failed attempt would be lives given for nothing. It would only lessen our strength and cause the captors to go even harder on their prisoners.

"The prisoners will be safer if we don't attack until we can win. Despite the torment in your heart, if you wish to ride with me, you will obey my orders just like everyone else."

Iraj paused and looked at the big tribesman who stared back at him, unblinking.

Eventually Iraj nodded. "You have the right of it, I know, and yet my heart is on fire."

Pandora moved across to put her arm around his shoulders. He took her hand and kissed it.

Hakeem softened. "We cannot rescue the prisoners yet, but we haven't come all this way just to sit around. Jess!" he called to his daughter. "You are in contact with Sophie, what else is happening?"

Jess scooped up cheese made from ewe's milk onto a large piece of fresh unleavened bread and knelt to offer it to Hakeem.

"Sophie has my key." Jess didn't say which key. "They have set up two camps of senior novices; one in the Troad and one six days journey from here. There are five more Amazónes and three elves on the way but unfortunately that is all the seniors we have.

"The guard on elvish Troia is not large enough for them to spare any more elves. We have sent messages to Abydos and Troia. Shame we can't bring men from Elgard or Karsh."

"Abydos? Troia? Elgard? Karsh?" Kishpi, the head man of the village, was incredulous. "Are you really the Lord Hakeem come to help us? But this will take months for them to get here."

"It will be two weeks, not much more. As Iraj reminded us, we do not have time to waste," Hakeem said. "Iraj and Rohana have powerful friends, ones they didn't know they had. We don't want to draw the attention of the rest of the Hun but we will take this fortress and we will end this threat; that we can promise you."

Then Hakeem gave them his second piece of bad news.

"With a score of warriors, we cannot protect all the points which the enemy can strike. Many of you have herds, this is dry country and there are many scattered settlements and small villages. Our enemy has the man-power and freedom of movement. If I stayed here, they will simply attack elsewhere.

"All I can do is to try to limit their freedom of movement. I plan to attack their scouts, and any smaller patrols and raiding parties. The sooner I do that the better, but I can't prevent another attack here in force. In fact, it is likely once we start to give them trouble, and it will be before more reinforcements arrive."

"So, we are on our own," Kishpi said. "We have three dozen fighters, but only one in three are seasoned. We have relatives amongst the nomads, but it would take time before they can come."

"If I can, and you are attacked, I will try to get back to help, but I cannot guarantee it."

"Should we bring some senior novices?" Jess asked.

"No," Kynane shook her head firmly. "We have brought Pandora. I will not put other novices in danger."

Hakeem glanced at Kynane and nodded, then he turned back to Kishpi. "I suggest you send anyone who can't fight to Parap, until this is over. Abandon the lower and outlying houses and fortify and provision the upper ones as best you can."

"But these are our homes!" one of the men protested. "And I have to look after my sheep."

"Not if you are dead," Hakeem replied. "The greatest danger I believe will be in the next few weeks."

"We will send as many as will go to Parap," Kishpi agreed. "Maybe some of the surrounding villages will send some men."

No one said anything, they wouldn't.

"I hear they have a powerful sorcerer," one said.

"Leave him to me," Jess said.

Hakeem looked at her. "Jess, they wouldn't be doing this if they didn't believe they could fight you."

"Leave him to me," she repeated quietly. "They can fight me, yes, but can they win? We will have to see."

"Pandora, you will join the defenders of the village."

"But I want to go with you!" Pandora said in protest.

Hakeem stared at her in stony silence.

"Remember your place," Kynane reminded her.

Jess looked embarrassed.

"But I swore an oath to Rohana. She is my blood-sister," Pandora said softly.

"Kyrie," Jess said quickly before Hakeem could reply. "May I have your permission to explain?"

Hakeem hesitated and then nodded.

"Pandora, this is not about how any of us 'feel'. It is a military matter. Hakeem is the best I know of at this sort of thing. He is in charge, no argument and no debate.

"If you want to comment on his decisions, you must ask his permission first. If you can't follow orders, you can't be one of us."

Pandora went pale and tears came to her eyes.

"I'm sorry. P-please forgive me."

"Apology accepted," Hakeem said gently. "Pandora, you are an infantry archer. From what Jess tells me, you are a good one, but you don't know about fighting in the open or on a horse's back or how to kill by stealth. Allow me to place you where you are of greatest use to me, and that is here."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." Pandora bowed her head. "I promise I will not disappoint you, sir."

"Pandora, I fear for all those I am leaving here. I really do. May our God watch over you and keep you safe."

Then he turned back to the rest of his plans.

* * *

Qori

Pandora stood twisting a lock of her hair over and over and chewing at it as she watched her friends rode out of sight.

"Hello," a small boy's voice called from beside her. "You must be Pandora Khanum (Lady Pandora). Why aren't you riding out with the rest of them? Are you any good with that bow you are carrying?"

Pandora grinned down at the small boy, maybe seven.

"I am Pandora, as you have guessed and I can use the bow well enough but haven't been trained to fight on horseback or a dozen other things that will take me years to learn. Is there anything you don't want to know?"

"They call me Adharsh because I am always asking questions."

"Well Adharsh always asking questions, perhaps you can help me find Kishpi, your head man, unless you have work to do, that is."

"I have jobs, but my mother won't complain if I am showing you around."

Adharsh kept up a constant running commentary as he showed her the small town.

It was a pleasant village. The main settlement was centred on one hill with a small spring at its base. Even in the drought the spring had not dried up.

There were palm trees giving shade to the crops, a number of goats, fat tailed sheep (sheep that stored their fat in their rear) and of course, chickens. A lot of the irrigation was down by simple muscle power but the people of the village worked hard and they were proud of what they had achieved.

As always, the houses had been built above and away from the precious irrigated land. The lowest houses on the hill were the oldest part of the village. They were poorer, crowded together and made of simple mud brick and palm thatch. A few were derelict.

Those who could afford larger houses were forced to build on vacant land higher up or (like Iraj's grandfather) a little way out from the older, main part of the village. That had cost Iraj's parents and their servants their lives.

The highest houses stood along a terrace overlooking the main road winding up from below. They were two-story, the flat roofs made of sun dried earth, spread like plaster and supported underneath by thatch and wooden frames. The roofs also had low walls around them that could serve as make-shift parapets.

The men were busy blocking windows and doorways, erecting obstacles and barricades on the road, filling sand bags, gathering rocks and stones (for throwing and for slings), assembling ladders and storing supplies of food and water.

It was easy to find Kishpi, he was up at the top. He directed her to first look around the village and, after that, stay with those women that had remained.

There were four families that had remained and they would share the final house on the terrace. They were the ones who could not afford to leave. They had no servants or donkeys so the women collected their water in pots balanced on their heads and trudged all the way up the hill.

Life, for the poorer women of the village, went on much as before.

They tended their chickens, watered their crops, milked their goats and spun their wool. They sewed and cooked and did a hundred and one jobs as well as look after their men at night in all the usual and varied ways that women did.

Pandora was the only woman who was armed, beyond some with belt knives. She did her best to help, and tried to be an unofficial guard, taking her gorytos slung over her shoulder wherever she went.

One of her tasks was helping Adharsh with his family’s poultry. Adharsh's mother, Fedrî, had four red hens, descendants from her wedding dowry. Her husband had recently bought a young rooster from a nearby village hoping they could breed a better flock.

He had cost a lot of money for a rooster but was certainly a fine specimen. He stood tall and proud, with sleek red feathers over his wings and dark blue-black shiny feathers over his tail, chest and underneath.

And he was also totally convinced of his own magnificence.

He loved to crow, flap his wings and puff up his chest just to show how important he was. He also thought his four new hens were especially lucky to have such a handsome rooster in charge of them. So Fedrî had called him 'Siramarg' (Peacock).

In truth Peacock was very attentive to his hens. Apart from his obvious duties as their rooster he was constantly scratching around industriously, searching for the tastiest morsels for them and making clucking noises to call them over.

Adharsh's family had lived in the outer part of the village so they had to move Peacock and his small feathered harem to a shed on the upper hill. This was achieved by locking them in their new home for two days. After that, they would know to return there at night to roost.

In any case, they always came when called. It meant a handful of wheat or even two.

It was quite a nice new home for them: dry and airy with nice laying boxes, filtered light and plenty of fresh straw. There were even several benches for roosting.

When Pandora arrived, it was time to let them out for the first time.

The first problem was caused from a rival flock of three hens led by the older rooster Zumrud (Emerald). When Peacock saw the other flock, he saw it as intruding into his new territory. It didn't seem to occur to him that this was really Emerald's territory.

Maybe he didn't care.

Peacock crowed loudly at his rival, flaring his hackle feathers and lowering his head threateningly. Emerald wasn't at all impressed. He just flared his neck feathers, flapped his wings and crowed right back at him.

They began to edge cautiously around each other. This was followed by mutual wing flapping, heads held high, chests puffed out and then a half-circle dance.

Soon they were flying at one another, jumping over the top, pecking and slashing with their spurs. Feathers were raining down everywhere. Adharsh and Pandora had to race to intervene.

"Just like a real cock fight!" Adharsh laughed.

"Yes, but your mother and the others will kill us if one of these birds gets hurt," Pandora said.

After that, the war between Emerald and Peacock settled into a series of regular skirmishes which kept Adharsh and Pandora constantly on edge.

It was only the second day and Pandora chased Peacock away from his bird wars, thinking murderous thoughts.

As she trudged back up the hill, she heard him calling to his hens delightedly. She spun around to see what he was doing. Oh no! She had accidentally chased him into someone's vegetable patch.

Just then, the lookout put his ram's horn to his lips.

Hakeem and ten of his women riders were returning to the village

Something was wrong.

Pandora left Adharsh to look after Peacock and his hens, lifted her gorytos and scurried up a ladder to a nearby roof. She strained her eyes but it was only a blur in the distance. One of the three elves, part of the recent arrivals, appeared next to her.

"They are leading one of the horses," he said, peering at the distance.

Without any conscious thought Pandora jumped and slid and started running down the hill. Scratching her arms and legs climbing over the obstructions, raising a dust cloud in her hurry until she finally waited, heart pounding and breathless, at the base.

Please, don't let it be Jess!

One of the riders saw her waiting and kicked her horse towards her. Jess threw herself off and ran to her. Pandora flung herself at Jess, hugging and kissing her fiercely, her tears wetting her shirt.

"I saw the horse. I was so afraid." Pandora kissed her again.

Jess broke away to stare at the slender body tied over the horse.

"We came against them sooner than we expected; a group of over thirty, none had armour. We had total surprise. They were completely outclassed and we were cutting them down quickly but some of them fought back. It was my fault; I just couldn't get to her in time."

"It was my fault, daughter," Kynane dismounted and spat noisily onto the ground. "If only I taught her better."

"Both of you!" Hakeem shouted angrily. "I will hear none of your nonsense. It was no one's fault, not even Alba's."

"Alba?" Pandora remembered the young woman who seemed to be so full of life.

"Alba," Jess whispered, tears in her eyes.

They watched as the others gently lifted the body down.

"She, with her sister Meliboea, were the first to join me and now she is dead. Her sister will never see her again in this life."

For Hakeem's party, there was no time to grieve. He picked up the extra fighters, the last for a while, and some supplies, and immediately turned back.

Alba was a juddin (a non-believer) but she had given her life to help the people of Qori and they would honour her with a Mazdayasna funeral. Pandora was to be the only representative of her family and friends.

* * *

Arys, and the temple of 'Anat

Menna's initiates watched wordlessly as the head man of the village stormed into the temple. Menna thought what a shame it was that the head man was Utana and not Keresaspa, the leader of the fighters.

That gave him an idea which brought a smile to his lips.

"The raiding party we sent has not returned. Have you found them?" Utana demanded.

Thirty men missing.

"No, we haven't, but it is you that have lost them, not us."

Menna tried to sound disdainful, not show his fear. He didn't want to frighten Utana any more than the man was already frightened, but the response of their enemy had been terrifying.

She was hidden from his far sight but he knew that she passed into Mesopotamia heading west a couple of months ago. She should have been very far to the west.

Within a week of the raid, a dark cloud passed over Qori, heading their way. It was impossible. Nothing could travel that fast, and yet she had.

Thirty men all at once was well beyond the power of a changeling. If she had used arcane power, he would have heard and felt it from here.

So it left one terrifying possibility. She had the power to bring enough helpers to handle their thirty men! Menna knew he couldn't find the thirty men because they were already dead.

"I thought you were confident of handling her."

"I still am, and you must have faith in our Goddess. As I said to you before, if I can get her to attack us here, we will have her.

"You are our leader, think for a change! If she attacked your raiding party, that means she is not alone. She has enough helpers that she can attack thirty men, but she doesn't have enough to attack the fortress. It also means she is not far from here, somewhere in the nearby desert.

"We have one of her friends here and there is another in the village of Qori. You need to make a large attack on the village, hit and run. Kill as many people as you can and do as much damage as you can and then leave quickly, before she can return with whatever force she has.

"After that she will come here."

Menna passed him a small parcel wrapped in a bloody cloth. Utana looked at it with distaste. 'Leave this. Once our men have returned from the village, we will get ready for our visitor."

Menna knew that a confrontation between himself and this sorceress was inevitable. If he managed to have it on his terms he expected to win.

But the speed and power of her response had him wondering. Had he underestimated her power? He would know soon enough.

* * *

Hakeem expected them to send scouts searching for the missing party. He wanted to be back in time for that. After midday, the next day, their lookout's bronze signal-mirror blinked: six short flashes.

Six men.

Hakeem was not in the habit of giving his enemies any chance he didn't need to. The enemy scouts would find out they were riding into a trap when the arrows were already flying in the air.

* * *

Emet, the leader of the scouts out of Arys, signalled for his small group to stop.

In the near distance, by the road, they could see a man's body, lying face down, facing in the direction of the fortress of Arys.

It looked like one of their own. Maybe he had died on his way back to bring them news.

He scanned the surrounds. The ground was uneven: gullies, boulders and hillocks. It seemed empty but it was a good place for an ambush.

The worship of 'Anat, the Assyrian Goddess of War, had made Arys strong. They could raid at will. They always won and their casualties were always light.

Now one of their raiding parties had failed to return. Nothing like that had ever happened before.

Emet led his men, moving their horses slowly, closer to the body on the ground. They had arrows nocked, scanning their surrounds. He nodded for two of his men to check the body while he waited on his horse, on guard, with the other three men.

The two men lay their bows down and awkwardly turned the body over, trying to touch it as little as possible. They were no longer Mazdayasna but the old taboos remained.

"He's one of ours; dead a couple of days."

Emet instinctively nudged his horse forward to look at the dead man's face and see what wounds he might have. Every eye,, for a moment was on the dead man.

No one saw eight women stand up behind Emet, well spread out to choose targets. A soft woman's voice called, "Now."

The two men had been feeling more than a little sickened by the state of the dead body. They couldn't see the women hidden by their friends' horses.

As their friends began screaming and falling, they jerked up, for an instant frozen.

A riderless horse spooked and galloped away.

Then they leapt for their bows.

As one of the men straightened, fitting an arrow, and peering through the chaos of milling horses, he got hit from another group of women who had stepped out of cover off to the other side.

"Put down your weapon."

The last man stood up, looking very pale. He dropped his bow and held his hands above his head.

"You are going to tell us all you know."

* * *

Eirene finally finished the charcoal sketch on papyrus to her satisfaction and used a mouth atomizer to give it a fine coating of shellac dissolved in distilled alcohol.

She held it up to their captive as it dried in the air.

"That's just right," Gaomant, their captive, said, admiring her work.

It was a detailed drawing of the fort with barracks, headquarters, slave quarters, the new temple complex for the blood priests, stables, warehouses, kitchens and individual housing.

He looked tired. There had been a lot of questions. Chara, one of the smaller girls, was just behind him, seemingly looking over his shoulder.

"You have been very cooperative," Kynane said with a smile and gave an imperceptible nod to Chara. Gaomant smiled back a little uncertainly. He didn't expect to be attacked by a girl Chara's size.

The first he realised it was when he felt her grab his collar to jerk him back, off balance. He screamed in agony as she stabbed him in the right kidney, making him arch his back.

She used his falling weight to drive the knife deeper into his back, supporting her arm with her hip and thigh.

He continued to fall, twisting away from the pain of the knife. Chara used her thigh and body to take some of his weight. She snatched her knife out as she let his body fall, further to the left.

With superb power and control she grabbed his jaw with her left hand in a firm grip, exposing his throat and used his falling weight to give her depth and penetration as she sliced her knife across his throat and then shoved the body clear.

It was done in seconds.

He made a gurgling choking sound and his body continued to thrash in the dirt.

"Chara, that was very neat." Kynane gave her a delighted smile. "It was perfect."

A few of the veterans murmured their approval.

Chara looked more than a little sick.

"Jess! You always use brute force; you should learn from Chara. Use a sudden severe pain; the shock of it paralyses your enemy for a few seconds. They are frozen so they won't resist you. Then use their own weight to give force to your attack. Do it quickly and —"

All the colour had drained from Chara's face.

Jess dove for the girl as her eyes rolled up in her head and she crumpled. She managed to awkwardly grab her one handed as Chara sagged against her to vomit noisily over Jess's boots.

"— and humanely," Kynane finished.

Jess only barely managed to grab Chara by the back of her armour, so she could stop the girl from falling face forward into her own vomit. She hung limply and then her body convulsed as she vomited over Jess's trouser leg.

"Help me get her down and get her feet up," she called to Eirene.

They carried her to some softer ground and rested her feet on Eirene's pack while some of the other girls used their bodies to provide shade.

"I'm sorry." Chara's eyes fluttered open, her face was chalky.

Jess had dampened a cloth and squatted to wipe the vomit from the girl's mouth and hair. As Chara recovered, she got her to sit up and blow snot out of her nose and drink some water.

"Ohh," she moaned and gave a cough. "I have just managed to make a fool of myself in front of every single person in this world that I admire."

"It's easy enough to say we won't take prisoners," Jess said, rubbing her back. "But the first time killing with a knife is horrible. You didn't hesitate and you didn't make him suffer; that is the main thing. It hit you afterwards.

" After I killed the pirates when I was younger, I ended up in bed for a day and a half."

"I know you are Jacinta. It's just that I never thought of you as being like that." Chara said. "Your fight with the pirates is rather famous you know."

Jess smiled back. "Well, let me tell you I was absolutely terrified the whole time."

She hadn't known Chara from before, but she realised this was a girl she would like.

"I think we are getting some bad news," Jess murmured as she helped Chara up and gave her a quick hug and slap on the back. A single very long flash was being relayed from the lookout, repeated over and over.

A hundred fighters had left the fort.

All they could do now was hide, until they knew where they were going. If the enemy was making for the village of Qori, there was little they could do to stop a hundred riders.

Even tracking them was going to prove dangerous.

In a few turns of the glass, it would be dark.

* * *

Pandora climbed to the roof like she did every morning to look out; Adharsh joined her.

For breakfast, Adharsh's mother had made them dumplings from maza (coarse barley flour) with honey, cheese and olives. It was delicious, reminding Pandora of one of the dishes of her childhood.

A family of nomads was herding their sheep far out from the village, dirty white and black in the distance, the sound of dogs barking carried faintly on the breeze. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. It was going to be another hot day.

Being locked up didn't stop Peacock from crowing loudly, almost as if he was telling them to hurry up and open the door. No sooner had Adharsh opened the door than he strutted out and crowed several times more, flapping his wings. He clucked to his hens and then ... he launched himself into the air.

Pandora checked her gorytos and went running to help, but before she and Adharsh could grab any of them, most of the small flock was in flight, headed for the vegetable patch.

"I'm going to wring your neck and clip your wings!" Pandora yelled after him as she ran down the hill. She didn't know what she would do first.

While she charged down the hill after the airborne escapees, Adharsh was trying to herd the one remaining hen that had stayed back up the hill. It was squawking indignantly and flapping its wings in a determined effort to dodge past him and join the rest of her flock.

"Don't scare it, Adharsh," Pandora yelled back over her shoulder as she careened down the hill, making for the vegetable patch, "It'll stop laying."

She ducked between two houses and almost ran into two foreign men crouched there. They were as surprised as she was, but it wouldn't be for long.

She clutched her Gorytos tightly and kept running, ducking into a doorway well below to quickly string her bow and fit an arrow.

She saw them higher up, searching for her. They needed to stay quiet and keep out of sight of the lookout high above. She wanted to alert the lookout but it was most unlikely there were only two in hiding in the lower part of the village. If she yelled out now, she would get herself killed.

She just might forgive Peacock. He might have saved the village, but now she needed to find a way to give the alarm without getting killed. Maybe she could fire an arrow, that might do it.

Adharsh appeared, near the vegetable patch. When he saw one of the raiders, he began to scream. The two men tried to chase him. He ducked into the garden just as one of them was attacked by a small red ball of angry feathers flying at his face.

Pandora stepped from cover and fired at the other man. He staggered a few feet and then collapsed. The last man was trying unsuccessfully to catch the rooster when another flying rooster attacked him from another direction.

"You leave them alone!" Pandora cried savagely.

She sent an arrow at short range into his chest as the lookout began to blow his horn.

Adharsh ran to Pandora and she smoothly shoved him behind her as she crouched. An arrow went whizzing by her ear. The alarm was raised but they were trapped in the lower part of the village and the enemy was all around them.

* * *

Hakeem, Jacinta and the others

The camp fires were cold and burnt out. Thaïs signalled to the nearby woman and they circled around, moving closer.

Stealth wasn't needed now; the campsite was deserted.

"They have moved to the village under the cover of darkness," Thaïs told her. "I think we had better hurry."

At a signal from his scouts, Hakeem led his small force at a fast trot to the village. As the hill came in sight, they could hear the horn sounding over and over.

Jess swayed on her horse as a vison hit her.

"Pandora!" she gasped.

She turned to Hakeem. "Father, they got warning but are badly outnumbered. The enemy has too many bowmen against our slingers. They have captured the first roof and the villagers cannot hold out much longer.

"There are ten attackers on the first of the two-story roofs and seventy on the road. You should catch them in the rear if you hurry. I have to go. Pandora's trapped and cut off near the bottom."

"Daughter, go to her, quickly," Hakeem said. "We will attack the rest."

Jess didn't hesitate. She kicked her horse to a gallop. She was almost there, riding hard.

A voice in her mind screamed in terror, "Jess!"

"I am almost there, Pandora. Try to hole up somewhere."

"Jess, there are four of them."

"Pandora," she screamed as she kicked her horse for extra speed. "Just stay alive!"

A terrible pain cut through Jess's chest but she knew it was not her pain.

She slowed her horse. She was too late.

* * *

A pall of nothingness was flying across his far sight.

"Get out of there," Menna screamed in Keresaspa's mind. "The sorceress is coming for you and I don't know who or what else is with her."

Keresaspa signalled urgently for everyone to leave. The men on the roof began to quickly climb down and several went hurriedly to get their wounded.

Some on the ground hadn't gotten the message or didn't understand why they needed to withdraw while they were winning. They milled around in confusion.

Then they heard the sound of horses and shouted orders as the women dismounted.

"How many are there?" Keresaspa called out.

"It's only women," Janara, his second in command, called back, "and there's not too many of them."

The raiders were crowded on the roadway out of the way of the defenders above. Now their retreat was cut off, and before they could act they were hit by the first volley and almost immediately followed by a second.

From the roof, slingers, a single archer, and anyone who could throw rocks joined in.

The counter-attack from the roofs was ineffective, but the raiders were villagers and shepherds only. They had had some basic training and experience but they were not used to facing skilled warriors.

They did not know even elementary battle tactics and discipline: flanking, moving your vantage point to catch your enemy in crossfire, penetration of the centre, concentration of force, or anything about strong and weak points.

They scattered, looking for cover from a two-sided attack, and another volley hit those that were too slow. They fought as individuals while many of the women took to the roofs and fought as a team.

The raiders were caught. The screaming of men in anger and terror carried through the village over the 'phtt' of the bow releasing and the wooden clatter of arrows being drawn.

A dark figure scaled a vertical wall. She called up and then joined the village defenders on the roof, carrying several spare quivers with her; when they were empty she drew her sword and slid down, darting through the rubble searching for any enemy left alive.

* * *

Menna sat for a while in stunned contemplation.

He had been able to look into Keresaspa's mind before he died.

Amazónes!

It seemed impossible. The big man leading them could only be one person. He was perhaps the greatest warrior of an age. But why under all the Gods was he here? How had the sorceress summoned someone like him?

There seemed so few of the women and yet each fought like a lioness. He suspected few if any of their men would escape. He had not seen the changeling but there was a dark woman of extraordinary skill. That would be her.

Menna had been trained in the ancient magic of the Aígyptoi. He was a master of Heka, the magic that underlies all reality. It was more powerful than the Gods themselves. He was up against something the like of which he had not faced before but still, he knew what he had to do.

He wouldn't tell Utana what had happened to his raiding party. It would make the man near hysterical. He already knew to prepare for an attack and that was all he needed to know; it just might be sooner than they had expected.

It was difficult having his far sight blocked, but the enemy were few, they didn't have enough warriors to attack the fortress.

Hakeem had to see that. Or if he didn't, he would be making a mistake.

No, it left them only one choice, to send her in under the cover of darkness to attempt a rescue. They might lose some more men, but once he had her inside, he would kill her.

* * *

Hakeem and Iraj had to walk past dead bodies and step over one to get through the doorway of the small hut near the base of the hill. There was another dead man in the room.

The boy that Pandora tried to save by covering him with her body lay face up in the corner. A fly feasted at the corner of his eye, another buzzed onto his lip to inspect his mouth. He had been opened up and his intestines were spilt on the floor, attracting more flies.

Jess had dragged Pandora's body up against the wall and was hugging it to her, soaked in blood not her own. Jess herself seemed to be asleep but her eyes opened as they entered.

"Isn't she beautiful?" She kissed her hair. "I always loved her hair, dark like coal and so soft and shiny."

Pandora was very pale. The wound had bled heavily before she died.

"I'm sorry, Jess," Iraj said softly.

Pandora's eyes were staring sightlessly. Jacinta seemed to only notice then. She closed them and kissed the lids.

"I loved so many things about her, but it was her laugh I loved the most. She will never laugh again." She looked up at Iraj. Her cheeks were tear-stained. "You know, I told her not to come with me. More than once I told her. I told her I would only get her killed. That is what I do. I get my friends hurt or killed. It is me they want, not Rohana. And they will have me."

"Jacinta, no." Hakeem breathed. "Fight this cursed madness that is within you."

"I'm sorry, Father, I love you. I will always love you. But when I came back from the daimôn realm, I was not the same. I had stayed too long." She looked straight at Hakeem, her eyes shone yellow in the shadow. Her mouth had widened and was filled with fangs. "I will go there, Father, it is my karma to do so. They will let me in because they want to trap me. But they cannot even imagine what I can do."

"Don't go there for revenge," Hakeem said.

"Revenge, no. But they must die now, because we have run out of time. They came for Pandora because she was my friend and they left this on her body."

She held up a small bloodied parcel.

Hakeem stared at it for several moments before he would take it. His face was unreadable. He held it gently and reverently before he passed it, unopened, to Iraj.

Iraj let out a moan of anguish as he took the small parcel and held it to his heart. Hot tears came to his eyes as he kissed it and slowly, tenderly, unwrapped it.

"I couldn't protect her from this, " he whispered in horror.

It was another of Rohana's fingers, the one bearing the other ring that Pandora had given her.

"We will all go," Hakeem said. His eyes looked dangerously cold. "We have hurt them badly enough and now we will fight them. Jess, give the men and women a little time to sleep, and eat. You and I need to ease their hurts."

"I will do it alone, Father. I know how to not make them tired."

"After that we will all go, all the Amazónes and all the fighters from the village." Hakeem said. "With their loss here, we can gather more fighters on the way."

"Dark is best," Jess said. "Father, give me the three elves. With them, I can get you all inside."

"You know this is what they want."

"And I will certainly not disappoint them."

"Jess, they may not fully know what you can do, but neither do you know what they can do, remember that. One thing you must both agree on," Hakeem said grimly. "We destroy them first. Only when we are sure they are beaten do we search for family and friends."

Iraj nodded, he feared what else they might do to Rohana, but this would be a fight they had to win.

"I can find your loved ones, Iraj. As soon as I can, I will search them out," Jess said.

Hakeem stared at her in silence.

What has my daughter become?

* * *

Dinsha tried to stifle a yawn. He hated the third watch of the night.

It was always hard to sleep before-hand. You had your normal day duty before, and after you had a late start, but still had to work the next day as well. For the last two nights, no sooner was he asleep than he had to wake up and dress for duty.

The third watch, between midnight and three a.m., was the time when those awake are least vigilant and those who are asleep are hardest to wake.

It is the best time for a night attack.

Their raiding party had not come back from Qori yet. They would come tomorrow. So they only had half their force at the fortress, less now with their recent losses.

He looked out into the night outside the walls. There was no moon and the stars were obscured by a light cover of cloud.

Had something moved out there?

Hakhamanish, his fellow guard, paused beside him. "Is something wrong?"

"I just thought I saw something moving out in the shadows." They both searched the darkness. It was as black as pitch.

"There! Can you see it?" Dinsha pointed.

There was an animal snarl somewhere out in the darkness.

Hakhamanish laughed and clasped his friend on the shoulder.

"Our men are not the only ones hunting out there. That is a good omen for their success."

As Dinsha and Hakhamanish turned to resume their pacing, a dark figure detached itself from the shadows and ran to shelter by the wall. It paused to make sure it wasn't seen and then it scaled the wall, going up it as if going up a ladder.

It slipped over the parapet onto the walk-way and cast its head around and sniffed the air. It squatted for a moment, whining in frustration, its eyes glowing yellow. A low growl rumbled in its throat — too many things to hunt.

Its claws formed into hands and it carefully secured a rope to the parapet and lowered it over the outside of the wall. Then it stayed crouched, keeping guard till the first elf climbed the wall to guard the rope. He fitted an arrow to his bow as the dark shape melted into the darkness.

Hakhamanish glanced back to find his friend. The torches on the sconces must have burnt out. Strange that two had done so at the same time. He couldn't see his friend. He must have gone to replace them.

He also didn't see a dark shape rise up behind him.

Suddenly, he felt a grip like a vice on his throat. He opened his mouth to scream but a hand clamped over his mouth. He was thrown backwards as a hand gripped either side of his head. At an exact moment, muscles bulged with inhuman strength and twisted as the weight and momentum hit his neck.

There was a crack and the black shape lowered him gently, almost lovingly, to the ground and disappeared into the night.

* * *

Utana couldn't sleep and had called for some servants to be woken.

Asabanâ, Iraj's youngest sister, had been sent. She placed cheese and dates and watered wine on the table and turned to go. She was fifteen and slender but very beautiful with long silky hair and it was the middle of the night.

Utana leered at her as he moved to block her way. She tried to slip past but he caught at her wrist and forced her body up against the wall.

"Leave me alone!" she spat and struggled.

A real spit-fire! Utana just laughed.

She was a bit young for his taste, but he liked to feel her fear. He would play with her ... for the moment. He rubbed his hard cock against her through their clothes. She shuddered in fear and disgust.

"I will have you later, you know that, and there is nothing you can do about it."

Pleased with his game, he let her go. Asabanâ flung the door open but what greeted her outside made her pause in fear.

"Where are all the lights?" she asked. "And where are your guards?"

There were always two guarding the chief's house, and there should be guards on the wall.

"Madar Ghahbe!" he whispered in horror. "She's here! Close that door!"

There was nothing playful about him now; he sounded scared.

"Who is 'she'?"

He ignored the question, buckling on his sword.

"Put out those lights!"

He got the young girl to hide behind him as he picked up a cross bow and stepped on the leather loop at the end to cock it. She hadn't latched the door and it began to slowly swing open. Utana raised the cross bow, aiming it into the darkness.

Asabanâ could see a vague shape moving, a shadow against the faint light.

Utana released. There was the meaty sound of a cross bow bolt hitting a body and something dropped, but there was no outcry.

"Ha!" he shouted in satisfaction.

He passed his tinder box to Asabanâ. "Let's see what we have caught; quickly now."

By touch Asabanâ opened the tinderbox and crouched near the fire place. There was flint to strike sparks off a 'D' shaped ring of iron. She deftly struck the flint across the edge of the iron to give off little sparks. It lit the char-cloth immediately and she fed it with a little straw and then small sticks in the fireplace.

In the dim flickering light Utana bent over the figure, muttering in consternation. It was Vaumisa, one of his guards, and there was a rope around his neck.

Behind him a dark shape appeared. Asabanâ opened her mouth to scream but found she couldn't make a noise.

The figure grabbed him with terrible speed and strength, jerking something across his throat. It held him till his struggles weakened, finishing with a convulsion. As it lowered him to the floor, in the flickering uncertain light, Asabanâ had a glimpse of a creature from out of hell: all black; crouching half human and half panther; yellow eyes; mouth broad face with fangs.

She backed away, and blinked to see clearer. A black woman in a short apricot dress crouched there. It made her wonder what she had seen.

"Are you Asabanâ?" she asked. "You smell like a female version of Iraj."

Asabanâ couldn't speak for terror.

"Stay here, you will be safe, it's not over yet."

Asabanâ looked at the bodies with dismay.

"Oh, I'm sorry, give me a minute." The woman grabbed blankets from Utana's bed and covered them.

Asabanâ stared at the two bundles. Not much better.

Was this horror from hell her 'rescuer'?

"Don't worry, I am a friend. My name is Jess, Iraj must have told you about me, but there are probably a few things he didn't mention."

Asabanâ's mind felt sluggish in shock. "You can see in the dark."

"Yes, I can, that is one of the things."

"Was it you that killed the shepherds that killed my sister?"

"Yes, it was. I killed them all, and now I'm going to kill these men who have done this to your family."

She picked up the cross bow and the leather pouch filled with the quarrels made of iron and wood.

With that, she was gone.

* * *

Hakeem

They left their horses under guard and waited outside the fortress.

A desert bird called from the battlements. Hakeem hooked his two smallest fingers in either side of his mouth and repeated the call.

The door swung a quarter open. A figure could be seen moving through it and waiting for them just outside. It was one of the elves. Iraj felt as if his heart was a lump of lead as he followed the small force through the gates. All he wanted to do was run and find Rohana.

But he had promised.

He had to trust Jess. He gave a lop-sided smile. If he wanted to find Jess, all he would have to do was follow the trail of dead bodies. He could feel little sympathy for her victims normally. Tonight, he felt none at all.

Jess would say that revenge was not the point but, no, he wouldn't feel sorry for any of their enemies tonight.

Well, first things first.

They had all memorised the map. Six villagers would lie in wait in case anyone came to close the gate.

Kynane led a group of Amazónes with some of the villagers and herders they had collected on the way, hurrying in the direction of the barracks.

Most of the warriors lived in the houses rather than the barracks and Hakeem and Iraj led a larger group of archers quickly into position. They would set up on roof tops and along the walk-way looking down over the houses.

Both groups had lit fires in small pottery containers for fire arrows.

Kynane's group would set a fire against the barracks door and have a lethal trap ready for those who came running out. The defenders would be outlined by fire while their attackers would hide in darkness.

Eirene, Chara, Anastasia and Thaïs left for the slave quarters. They would protect them and keep them well out of the way. In a way, they had the most dangerous part as they had to travel the furthest.

Hakeem waited till Eirene should be in position, or near to it, and then he raised a fire arrow and shot it high into the air.

* * *

Jess could smell Rohana's blood and feel the traces of her energy. At least her friend was still alive. Behind her she could hear shouting, screaming, the sound of running and the clash of weapons. She could see dancing fire, burning higher.

Her father had arrived.

Jess's route took her via the slave quarters first. She could see in the shadows as if it were daylight but only in black and white.

Four guards had spread out around the entrance. Where was Eirene's group?

She paused to bring the cross bow to her shoulder and released. The first man spun to meet her but was too late. No time to arm the cross bow again, so she ran to the body to grab his short-sword and shield. She could hear the shouts and screams getting louder behind her.

The three remaining guards raced towards her. She watched warily as they spread out to box her in. Her back was against a wall, which gave her no room to run or dodge. She was in trouble, and in a hurry to be elsewhere.

Then she noticed the men were holding their shields in front of their bodies, square on to her.

Are you men joking with me? That's what you do in formation, or against archers.

You would never use them like that in face-on single combat or melee fighting.

These were wicker shields, reinforced with raw hide but smaller. They were only meant for light infantry skirmishing.

Instead of doing what they were doing, she lifted her shield as if to cover her face from a high attack. Its edge was pointing to the man on her left with her sword at waist height, pointing forward.

She lunged in, hitting the edge of her shield against the outside edge of his and flipping it out of the way. The two shields ended up both edge on. Only his blade was on the outside of the two shields and hers was on the inside.

Who had trained these men?

She thrust deep into his abdomen and desperately spun clockwise to try to disengage her shield and get it around in time to block the man coming from the front.

He hadn't waited for her, and was already charging in. His technique was just as sloppy but it didn't matter, she couldn't get her guard around in time. He bashed her with his shield. There was a sharp pain in her left side.

Jess was saved from a fatal wound because she had twisted away.

But she was hurt, she cried out in anguish and stumbled backwards, falling over one of the dead men and ended up helpless on the ground. She tried to pull her shield across to guard her body but it caught against the dead man.

The two men grinned at each other and stepped closer.

'Phtt!' 'Phtt!'

Anastasia came running up with another arrow knocked, ready. Then she put her bow aside to make sure all the men were dead.

"Jess, are you all right?"

"Thanks to you, I am. Where are the rest of you?"

"Just Eirene and me and she's badly hurt. We ran into six men and they were onto us before we knew it."

Eirene staggered around the corner to sag against a wall, panting and clutching at her chest. Jess let go of the shield and staggered up, stumbling over in the direction of Eirene, trying to heal herself as rapidly as she could. Anastasia had her bow up again with an arrow fitted and was scanning the roofs and alleyways.

Eirene was dying, she couldn't breathe but she struggled on. Thaïs and Chara were already dead and Anastasia couldn't rescue the prisoners on her own.

Darkness was falling across her vision. She didn't see Jess fly to her side and bow her head in prayer. The next thing was as if she was struck by lightning. There was a bright flash of white light and a ringing in her ears like a gong.

"Ha, wha. What did you do to me?" She jerked awake.

"I'm sorry," Jess apologised, "that was very dangerous but this is an emergency. Can you fight?"

"I don't think so," Eirene said, gingerly getting up. "Er, maybe I can, I can walk at least. Did you get rid of the guards? Let's get these slaves free."

"What happened to Thaïs and Chara?"

"I'm sorry, Jess. We were delayed and had to detour. Then six men came flying around the corner, just in front of us, running flat out in our direction. They had swords and shields, we had bows. Thaïs was at point, she had no chance at all. Chara killed one before he raised his shield. She showed a lot of promise, that girl."

Jess grimaced, nodding.

"I got one in the thigh. They didn’t have full sized shields and the men weren't using them properly. I shot one in the side when he turned to kill Chara. I didn't think either one was dead but they were out of action at least.

"Anastasia was behind me and we both turned and ran back into an alleyway. The remaining three men were close behind. Anastasia kept hold of her bow and killed one there. I had my knife and axe. The last one got me. If they had used their shields properly and stayed in some sort of formation it would have been a different story."

So Thaïs was dead, another of her first group. And Chara, she had liked her.

Jess collected as many of the spare weapons as she could find and passed them to Anastasia.

"Is it worth getting more weapons?"

"Not much," Anastasia told her. "There will be less than a handful of the captives I would describe as warriors. I'm setting up on the roof next door which is defensible and I'll send out a small party scavenging once I can get a bit organised. Do you know which way the battle is going?"

Jess got a faraway look. "We have taken the barracks and Kynane's group are taking prisoners already. Hakeem and Iraj have taken over the greater part of the village and have the majority of the people trapped or hiding in their houses. And you have the slaves.

"There hasn't been any real organised resistance. If we can keep this up, we will win, but this side of the fortress hasn't been secured, so be careful. We didn't lose many but every loss hurts. I really have to go; I have a promise to keep."

Now Jess moved cautiously, following Rohana's trail.

Her heart was beating rapidly in fear. The greatest remaining danger was the sorcerer and his acolytes. Up ahead there were four men in brown robes, clustered together, chanting.

Hello, a reception committee.

One man pointed an ivory wand to the ground, drawing a protective circle.

The man next to him had a garishly painted face and body. He began stamping and yelling, making threatening gestures and banging a rattle and a drum. Jess lifted the cross bow to her shoulder and fired. He screamed mid-yell and collapsed to his knees before falling forward.

The man next to him was pointing his wand and had joined one of the others in chanting loudly, rising to a crescendo. She stepped on the leather loop, cocked the cross bow and scrambled to load it before he could finish the spell.

After killing the second acolyte, an agonising pain shot through her right arm, causing her to drop the bow. One of the two remaining men was holding a small black wax figure that he had made.

He drove another needle into it. Jess was blinded by pain but began a lurching run to reach him. Half way there her leg gave way and she skidded face-forward across the cobble stones.

Bleeding and dazed, she staggered up, doubling over and limping as he rammed another needle into the middle. She snatched at her belt knife left-handed as she approached him. In a panic he dropped the doll to grab at his own knife but she was already onto him, stabbing him in his guts and waving the blade with her wrist before withdrawing it.

The last man that had been chanting stopped and drew his own belt knife. Jess kicked him hard in the knee and stabbed him in the chest as he stumbled. She picked up the doll, it was already losing its magic but she made sure of it by pulling out all the pins.

The man who made the doll moaned. She reached down with her blade almost absent-mindedly and drew it across his throat.

Now let me see.

Rohana was in the building in front of her. She could detect one other person in there and the coppery smell of blood.

A lot of it.

The house had an open window high up; that would be safer than the front door.

She changed back to her daimôn form and leapt, scrambling with her claws to gain purchase on the window frame. With some difficulty she squeezed her bulk through the narrow gap and looked down.

There was a man at the end of the room, legs folded, sitting on the floor chanting in a strange language. He wore a short linen skirt; otherwise he was naked to the waist. He looked like he was from Aígyptos, and he was rather ugly.

Rohana was huddled, in chains, in the corner. It was hard to tell if she was conscious. The smell of blood was overpowering. It was painted in symbols on the walls, there was a large circle painted on the floor, decorated in arcane symbols with a five-pointed star with candles at points.

Jez pushed off the ledge with her hind legs and landed front feet first, like a cat.

The man made no response, he continued to chant in his harsh guttural tongue, it was as if he had not seen or heard her.

Well, this will be easy then.

She moved forward to cut his throat, but all that happened was she staggered around in a circle, ending in the same spot.

His chanting seemed to get louder in her ears. With a growl of frustration she stopped, squatting on the floor, panting. She tried to walk more slowly but the blood circle started to move again.

Her daimôn whimpered in confusion.

The more she tried to walk in a straight line, the faster it seemed to spin.

A noise started like a wind, getting louder and louder till it was painful. She could feel some sort of pressure seeping into her mind. She dropped onto her stomach, whining, and tried to crawl out of the circle.

"Well, well." The man finally stood. "My name is Menna and you have kept me waiting."

Jez tried to change into human form, and she found she couldn't.

"You are a changeling, all right, but I've never seen anything remotely like you." He started to walk around her, keeping outside the circle. "Tell me your true name and I will let you go."

"True name?"

"Ah, you can talk in my mind. You are strong and intelligent and powerful, but you don't know much, do you? Is it because you are very young? I had planned to kill you but I see that is not needed. You will be more use to me alive. Your true name; that wouldn't be so bad would it? A fair exchange for letting you go."

Jez tried to crawl away from him but things were spinning so fast that her paws buckled under her. If she were in human form she would have been helplessly throwing up.

I really need to learn about the magic of Aígyptios but I don't think this is the best way to start.

"Don't pretend or I will just have to give you pain." He sighed, clutching at an amulet around his neck. The candles flared brightly.

Jez howled as agony shot through her body.

"Perhaps I should just hurt your friend." He looked across at Rohana.

Jez sprang. It was awkward, her claws scratching for purchase, her rear legs not quite coordinated with the front. It felt like she hit a wall at the edge of a circle.

Menna scampered back hurriedly.

"Someone is outside. I imagine it will be one of my assistants."

I very much doubt that.

"Perhaps they can help me to tame you. Then I can get you to attack your friends. You won't be able to hold out against me for very long, you know."

I'm fairly sure 'true names' don't apply to the daimôn realm, what supernatural creatures is he used to dealing with?

* * *

They were raiders of undefended villagers, unused to a hotly contested fight. They had been poorly trained and woken in the middle of the night to fire and smoke and confusion.

Their leaders were killed early. They had the numbers but it had done them little good against the well organised attack. Most were more interested in running and hiding than fighting.

Now their attackers were calling out for them to surrender, herding the survivors and women and children into the stables.

For the attackers, next came the dangerous undertaking of flushing survivors out of their houses and hiding places.

Kynane was good at that.

Call for surrender. Tell them they wouldn't be harmed. She had found some of the prisoners that could be trusted to call their friends out. Kynane had no intention to lose any of her girls in the clean-up operation.

If she did have to send her girls in, she sent some of the prisoners in front, their hands bound behind their backs, but mostly she had fire and plenty of hay.

She didn't want to set the whole fortress on fire but here houses are mostly mud brick, wood is too expensive.

* * *

Just follow the trail of dead bodies, Iraj thought.

Hakeem led him and two Amazónes, Aoide and Chloe, to Utana's home.

They found Asabanâ hiding in the dark, almost hysterical but otherwise unharmed. She flung herself at Iraj, clutching at him and refusing to let go. After being rescued by a daimôn she had been hiding in the dark with two dead bodies. She could see fire and hear the sounds of a battle in the distance but didn't know what any of it meant. It was only once she heard that they still had to find Rohana that she bravely quelled her sobbing enough for them to lead her to where the other slaves were.

There they received the news that Rohana was being held in a room near the temple.

Jess had been at the slave quarters, Iraj could tell. Just follow the trail of dead bodies. Most on the way to the temple had been killed in the conventional way. Some their throats cut, some shot by a cross bow.

"Stay close to us," Hakeem said to Aoide and Chloe. "There are no women and children amongst the dead at least."

"Jess wouldn't do that sort of thing," Iraj said," not if they were unarmed."

Hakeem looked at him for a moment and then nodded.

"Have faith in your daughter," Iraj reminded him.

The house where they thought Rohana was being held had a light flashing behind the door. Nearby was a small pile of dead men in brown robes, two had been shot with a cross bow.

And then they heard the howl of an animal in pain.

"Jess!" Iraj ran to the door.

"Don't!" Hakeem warned.

An explosion of power took Iraj off his feet; the two women coming behind him tried to catch him. They were all dazed but none were badly hurt.

Hakeem looked at the sword clutched in his hand. It was made by the dwarves and infused with Dweomer (Dwarf Magic). It concealed him and those around him from far sight just like the tattoo they had given Jacinta on her left buttock.

Well, let's see what it will do with this.

He touched the door with the tip, tensing and screwing up his eyes. Something invisible tried to push the sword tip away. There was a bright flash and he felt the spell suddenly give way.

Then he grabbed the handle, it was bolted from inside but was not so sturdy. Hakeem squared himself, raised his knee and gave the door a powerful kick with his booted heel. On the fourth kick it gave way, and he shouldered in to find Jez was curled up on the floor in agony.

"Don't step in the circle," she managed to gasp.

It was enough to distract the sorcerer and she was able to change back into Jess.

"Who is your big friend with a sword?" a man in the corner cried in glee. "I know what to do with him, don't I?"

He gestured and a bolt of power shot at Hakeem.

"Look out!" Jess tried to struggle up.

Rohana screamed.

Hakeem stood there, unharmed, his sword out in front, glowing white.

"I had forgotten about that sword," Jess whispered in awe. "Shame it doesn't work against daimôns. I suppose that is my job."

Hakeem ran over to where the wizard cringed and struck him almost hard enough to take his head off at his shoulders.

I would have liked to ask him some questions about magic.

Probably too dangerous to keep alive,

Then Iraj staggered in, making an unsteady path to his wife.

"They hurt me," Rohana said as he took her in his arms. "They cut two of my fingers off."

Iraj couldn't see her, he was crying too much as he hugged her.

"There were too many, we couldn't get here any sooner. I'm sorry."

"And yet you came, I didn't think you could," Rohana said. "I see you had some help."

"Jess is Jacinta, we never knew. This is her father, Hakeem, and two of the Amazónes, Aoide and Chloe."

He didn't mention Pandora. There would be time to grieve later.

Hakeem had to lift Jess up.

All she could do for a moment was shiver violently and cling to him.

"He caught me, Father, he was hurting me and I couldn't change back. It was like one of my worst nightmares: I dream I am trapped as a daimôn and I can't change back."

Eventually she was able to stand and she stumbled over to where Iraj cradled Rohana and dropped to her knees, tears streaming down her face. "I'm so sorry, they used you as bait for me."

She reached over and took Rohana's injured hand and kissed the bandage.

"You can't —" Rohana asked.

"No, I can't, not regrow fingers that you could use. Your baby is fine though, he really is a boy."

"Are any of the bad men left?"

"What, the ones that hurt you?" Jess smiled.

Rohana noticed her fangs were still there in her mouth and her eyes still glowing yellow.

"I suppose not." Rohana gave a shaky laugh.

 

 

Chapter 22: The Ṧamánka

"Jess, you have the power to appear in dreams."

"I do, Holy Father!" The woman in the dream bowed low. "I have found out that I am a ṧamánka, amongst other things."

"What you are is God's holy warrior." The Dastur smiled in his sleep. "Did you find Jacinta?"

"Yes I did, Father. God, it seems, has a fine sense of humour. I am Jacinta. I had to travel a long way to see what was right in front of me."

The Dastur chuckled.

"I need you to find Tishari for me, please. My friends aren't safe while-ever he lives."

"There is another group at Arys."

"Not anymore, there's not. I am at Arys now. They hurt Rohana badly. They killed Pandora and many others just because they were my friends. I made them regret that. I have two great tasks with no real expectation of surviving them but I want to deal with Tishari first."

"I sense great grief inside you, do not throw your life away because of it."

"I will never try to do that sort of thing again, Father, but I have to kill Gansükh and if I succeed in that I have to kill Æloðulf. Win or lose that final fight I cannot survive. To fight him I must wear the armour hidden in the Deepest. It has a name, 'the drinker of souls', it has already taken one soul that I know of."

"Then I will pray for you, my daughter. I would wish that we would meet beyond this world."

"It would be a great honour for me, Father, but I don't think that can happen for me. I have been warned that this journey will take everything I have to give."

"I will pray for you nonetheless, and many others will also. You are the only hope for the free world. Always remember, prayers are no small thing."

"Thank you for that, Father. We need your help with Arys. We have taken the fortress but don't know what to do with it."

"I will pass a message to the Dastur of the fire temple at Parap. The Hun won't normally interfere with the religion of their subjects but the local Noyan at Parap has been more than just annoyed with Arys for killing off his villagers. He probably would have attacked Arys before, if it wasn't for their sorcerer

"It will take nothing at all to convince him to send a garrison there. I think he would be more than happy to allow some of our priests along to cleanse the place."

"That would be good! I have to sleep now. I am very weary from the fight. Thank you once again, and don't forget about the blood priests."

The Dastur smiled again. "That won't be likely. I will let you know as soon as I find them."

* * *

Jess said her goodbyes to Chara, Thaïs and Apama, the three Amazónes who fell in the capture of Arys. They were to be farewelled in a ceremony the next day with the others who died at Arys, both friend and enemy, but she wanted to get back for the final prayers for Pandora.

Iraj and Rohana wanted to be there for that too, so Iraj's family and Jess left at first light expecting to be in Qori late the next day.

Something in the battle with Menna had affected her. She felt weak and couldn't keep warm. It reminded her of her recovery from the battle with the daimôn below the ruins of elvish Troia. Hakeem couldn't help her then, and he wasn't able to help her this time.

She wasn't up to healing anyone else, let alone herself. She instinctively knew it would be a serious mistake to try to access her life energy at this time and she wanted nothing to do with accessing her remaining daimôn energy.

So she rode in the back of the cart with Asabanâ and Mehrak's two children.

They had the horses belonging to the fallen Amazónes and for the family members. Rohana was supposed to ride in the cart too but she took one of the horses and rode alongside

Asabanâ was very kind to Jess, feeding her and making sure she drank enough, but Jess was feeling too miserable to care much

* * *

Losing Jess

As the day wore on, Jess got rapidly worse.

She became feverish and began to talk to people who were not there. Once or twice, she seemed to be reliving being trapped by Menna. Finally, she had lapsed into a coma.

They had stopped early by the small township of Mubarek. Iraj had thought to camp there to let Jess rest but as soon as he saw her, he realised Jess needed special care and it would not wait.

"What can I do?" he asked Rohana, pacing back and forwards.

Rohana was sitting next to her friend, sponging her brow. Jess had gone a muddy colour and showed no response though her eyes remained open, staring. She would occasionally shiver though her body felt burning up.

"What is wrong with her?" Mehrak, Iraj's sister, asked.

"Jess got trapped by the blood priest in a circle made of blood. Hakeem had to release her."

"A circle of power!" Usmanara, her husband, whispered, appalled. "We need to get her to a magus without delay."

"Iraj," Rohana said, tears in her eyes. "We are losing her. After all that Jess has done for us, she is dying."

"It seems their cursed evil has not stopped with their deaths," Usmanara said. "Take her, Iraj, make for Parap. They have a fire temple there. Take two spare horses, we will continue on to our home."

"I know a route to Parap from here," Iraj said to Rohana. "I will make it. If I have to kill the horses to get there, I will make it."

As he got ready, they could see a small group of horsemen hurrying along the road towards them.

The women of Iraj's family were all archers and everyone reached for weapons.

"Roua?" Rohana called out as they got closer. "Roua, is that you? Iraj, this is the Hun leader we met in Amul. What are you doing here?"

Roua was in the front of his arban of cavalry as they trotted up. Better yet, there were two Mazdayasna (Zoroastrian) priests with brown coats over their white vestments and padan (masks) hanging from their turbans.

"Is this a miracle?" Rohana asked. "Ahu (lord high priest), what has brought you here?"

"My name is Yamshed," the head priest said. "I am here because your friend has been screaming out for help. I am almost surprised you couldn't hear her as well. We were on the way to Arys, so we made a detour."

Iraj took Yamshed to where they had lain Jess. She seemed more peaceful already, her eyes were closed. "It seemed like she was dying."

"Not quite, what she has faced is incredibly powerful. She is fighting back hard, the Dastur Dångha has been telling her what to do. She tried to do it all on her own. She really should have thought to pray. Now that we are here, we will help her."

"Can you do that?" Rohana asked. "Out of doors?"

Yamshed laughed. "Once all our Mazdayasna rituals were out of doors, I'm sure we will manage somehow."

They prepared their sacred fire in an urn, surrounded by an offering of fruit and flowers they had bought at the village. Then they cleansed themselves and began the chant.

* * *

Aftermath

The people of Qori and the surrounding villagers erected a tropaion (trophy), in the ancient Greek tradition to celebrate a victory. It was fashioned in the shape of a great cross and made of oak from the Oxos carved and polished.

At the top were the names of the five Amazónes who had given their lives and the villagers' tribute to their rescuers.

"In a time of trouble, a great evil stretched its shadow across the land. Unlooked for they came, riding out of legend. Not counting the odds, they stood with us and spilt their blood for us. They will never be forgotten. May the one true and uncreated God bless them forever."

Following that were the names of all the villagers who had fallen in the two battles: men, women and children.

They had a small ceremony to mark the occasion. Kishpi gave a speech and then Hakeem thanked all that came to help. Kynane finally gave a speech outlining the life and achievements of each of the fallen Amazónes, even Pandora, who was the newest member.

Jess sat there, hunched forward in misery with a blanket over her shoulders and Rohana's arm around her on one side and Eirene's on her other side.

It reminded her of a very similar ceremony, to mark the first battle of the fighting women of Troia when they had defended the manor house.

Only this time Pandora was dead, with Alba and Thaïs. And there were two she had no chance to get to know: Chara and Apama.

Dora, are you really dead?

Jess began to get flashes of Pandora laughing or giving her a loving glance or her grin so full of mischief.

It felt like a sword had been thrust into the centre of her chest. Jess could not afford to pause in her quest but without Dora, it is so hard even thinking of going on!

After lunch Hakeem and Kynane bid them goodbye taking with them most of the Amazónes. They had to get back to the Troad.

Anastasia and Eirene would travel back with Jess once they were sure she had recovered enough. Jess was meditating and communing with her God every few hours to make sure she continued to recover.

How stupid could I be? She wondered.

She had never thought to try praying when she was attacked by the dark magic. A child would know to do that.

That evening some of the young men of the village had their own ceremony to give honour to the dead. A small fire was lit, they made a small tent not much taller than four feet high and sealed it with felt cloth.

Inside they placed red hot rocks on a dish in the ground. To one side was a pile of hemp seeds and green leaves on a leather cloth. Each of the men in turn would poke their head under the felt cloth and sprinkle some of the hemp on the hot rocks and lay there inhaling the acrid white smoke.

It was the Skythian version of a wake.

Jess had asked Anastasia and Eirene to give her a few minutes alone. She didn't need any time alone, but nothing really was helping her. She was stuck with an empty aching hole inside.

"You should try it," Iraj said to Jess. His eyes were bloodshot and he had a silly look on his face. "It helps with the grief."

"Don't let him talk you into it," Rohana warned, bustling past carrying a plate of food.

"How do I do it?" Jess asked him when Rohana had gone.

"Just put a handful of hemp on the hot rocks and inhale, nothing to it."

Rohana walked back later to catch Jess with her head stuck in the tent and Iraj squatting next to her shouting instructions.

"Iraj! I told you not to let Jess get in there. She has been sick, and she sometimes has funny reactions to drugs."

Iraj looked up at her and giggled. He slapped Jess unsteadily on the back.

"I love this girl."

"How long has she been in there?"

"Longer than any of the rest of us," one of Iraj's friends said, giggling. "She really is a strong girl."

Rohana kneeled down.

"Jess, are you all right in there?" she called. "You've been in there too long."

There was no answer, no response.

"Iraj!" Rohana glared at her husband. "How much did you tell her to use?"

"Just a pinch."

"Well, help me get her out!" Rohana tried to ineffectually tug at the big girl while Iraj and his male friends giggled and fell over each other trying to help.

Eventually she managed to get them coordinating well enough to drag her out, AND roll her on her back rather than to keep dragging her on her face through the dirt.

Jess's eyes couldn't focus on her; she had dust all over her face. She gave Rohana a broad dreamy smile.

"Pandora," she breathed.

* * *

Cannabis

Jess found herself on her back.

It was dark but the stars seemed to be moving in odd ways.

Hold on, she was being dragged across the dust.

Her muscles felt weak, her mouth dry, her eyes stung. She felt dizzy, and very hungry.

"It affects different people differently," the young form of Jacinta told her.

"Lover," Pandora said from just behind Jacinta. "You definitely shouldn't take drugs. They have strange effects on you. I have been trying to attract your attention for some time, but you were too sad."

"Dora!" Jess cried out excitedly and then she burst into tears.

"Sit down before you fall down," Thaïs advised her, laughing.

"But I'm not standing," Jess said.

She had thought she was on her back but they were all floating in the air and they weren't anywhere near the tent.

Chara, Alba and Apama gave her smiles and they waved casually.

Jacinta disappeared.

"I found my parents and my sister." Pandora told her. " She died of the fever during the time of hunger. And Thaïs here found her Drakon."

Jess tried to float over to kiss and hug Pandora but she didn't know how. She settled back and grinned at her instead.

"Your parents?" she asked. "Haven't they moved on in their next life?"

"Why of course they have, and so has Drakon and my sister. It is important to let them go, you know that, but even after that, we the dead continue as a separate part of us that inhabits a realm created by the echoes of the past."

Jacinta was sure it was beyond her understanding.

The human soul existed across more than one reality. It left an echo behind even after it had moved on to a new life. It made some sort of sense, too, the dead would have a perspective that the living couldn’t possibly have.

"Jess, I'm sorry I left you. I was given no choice. I'll watch over you as much as I can."

"Pandora, I need you now! I need you so much!"

"There is more for you to face, you have to be strong for me."

"I have to be ready to give my life, my love, my very soul, everything I have," Jess said, remembering what the dead had told her at the manor house, so long ago.

"Tell me we will be reunited in death."

"Oh, Jess, there are things I can't tell you. Just know that we here love you."

"Jess." The young Jacinta had appeared again. "I'll show you how to clear the poison from your blood, you took far too much."

"Jess?" She was back near the tent and Rohana was trying to help her sit up.

She sat up, unsteadily.

"I'm going to kill my husband when he sobers up, would you like to help me to kill him?"

Jess thought she must have looked a mess, red eyes from the hemp and crying, and swaying as she sat.

"If you like, but I'm all right," she told her. "I saw Pandora."

"And that's supposed to reassure me that you are all right? I'm sorry, Jess. I feel she gave her life for me."

"Funny, I feel the same way. I suppose I should stop thinking that way, I'm not a god after all." She giggled, was it the smoke still making her giggle?

Iraj was right, it helped with the grief.

"Don't even think that it was you brought the problem of Arys down on us." Iraj was sober for a minute. "We would have had to face them sooner or later. It was best to face them while we had your help. I'm sorry about the kannabis, but with all that has happened I really needed it."

Jess was sobering rapidly with her young alter-ego's help. Drugs were definitely something she definitely planned to avoid.

There was one thing she had to ask.

"Rohana and Iraj, I feel embarrassed to ask this, I really do. I don't think I will survive what I have to face but if I ever get a home for myself, I would like Pandora's remains to be close to me."

"It will just be bones, but we will have a casket made," Rohana promised. "No need to feel embarrassed. We will look after her, till you have a home of your own. She was our blood sister too and she gave her life for us. We will pray for you every day. Do you think we will see you again soon?"

"I would like to, especially to see your new baby," Jess said. "I don't think it will be possible. Things are moving quickly now and I need to learn more about magic. I have made a lot of mistakes through ignorance.

"And killing Gansükh just became a lot harder." Jess added. "People will know about the sorceress called Jess. It will be easy to guess what I am, why I am here and that I will be coming for Gansükh."

"The price of fame, I'm afraid." Iraj gave her a sympathetic look.

* * *

Learning magic

"This world is an illusion," Sophie explained. "Some magic imposes its own illusion on the illusion of reality, other magic relies on ignoring the illusion and some relies on what is hidden beyond the illusion. Are you following me, Jess?"

"Not at all," Jess admitted, shaking her head. "I need to know what happened to me and what I could have done about it."

"Let me try," Daniel offered. "Jacinta, everything is not as it seems, because we are trapped in this illusion, we call reality.

"From what you say, Menna tricked you into stepping into a circle of power. It contained the energy from people he had murdered, his incantations and the power of his will.

"The Aígyptoi have powerful death-magic and for that sort of power, he had to have called on 'Anat, the blood thirsty Assyrian Goddess of War. It continued to attack you after he was dead."

"How could I fight it?"

Sophie giggled. "Did you try?"

Jacinta sat back and thought about it. Then she began to chuckle softly.

"I tried to resist it with my will alone but that wasn't enough. Some paladin I am. "

"You weren’t being very intelligent," Sophie agreed. “You should have used all you had.”

"The magic of the paladin and of the ṧamánka," Jess said, nodding.

"And of the daimôn," Daniel reminded her.

Jess shuddered.

She remembered the long fight to become human again. She remembered the feeling of being trapped in her daimôn form by Menna. It felt as if the daimôn part of her was always lying in wait, ready to take control of her.

* * *

Jess's voice steamed in the frigid air. "Where am I?"

She was sitting in a conical-shaped tent. She had moccasins and an irnauti (fur coat) draped over her but underneath she was naked. A small fire burnt in the middle.

Two men and a woman sat across from her. Their black hair was sprinkled with grey. There were two of those gorgeous fluffy white dogs again being stroked by an older boy. One dog walked across and sat down next to her. She automatically reached down and patted it.

"Kako Vesako (Old Man Kako)!" she cried out in delight. "Am I really here this time?"

"Put your hand in our fire little ṧamánka and you will know soon enough."

Who had such power to bring her to this far place?

"It is you that has this power now. It is a rare one, that only I and a few humans living now possess. Yours is different to mine because you learnt it in an unprecedented way."

My time in the daimôn world.

"Yes, you alone can join the magic and power of the daimôn world with the humans magic of the ṧamánka , the Paladin and what you have learnt from the elves. We can only hope that it is enough.

'But, first, your initiation. This is my pupil, Nyalku." He indicated the long-haired youth. "I will not introduce my other companions, they are only here as witnesses.

"You are becoming great in power but not in knowledge. For me to teach you further, you must first agree to be bound by the law of the samān. You must work towards maintaining balance and never abuse your power."

"I would gladly agree to that," she said.

"Then come, you will truly be a warrior-ṧamánka, the champion of both heaven and earth."

Jess stood up and cast her furs aside. All that was left was moccasins on her feet.

She tried not to shudder as the cold struck her naked flesh

Kako and his assistant began painting her body with lines of power in white clay against her dark body: her forehead, her cheeks, her neck, swirling lines around her breasts, her abdomen, down to the fur of her feminine parts, her inner legs, her inner thighs, down her back and her buttocks.

They got her to repeat the words of the šamán oath and then they wrapped her up again for the few steps outside the mya (the Siberian version of a tepee) to the water.

She passed a wooden carving of a female torso to the waist.

That's me!

Yet somehow not her. It had been specially made to aid in her transformation. It was her soul when it wandered in the other world. Next to her statue was a tree decked with small pieces of coloured cloth. Prayers to keep her safe.

Kako began chanting as he broke the thin layer of ice from the surface of the river with a fishing spear then gestured for Jess to step in.

Are you kidding me, Kako?

You don't seriously expect me to get in there, do you?

She cast off her furs and kicked off her moccasins.

The cold outside hit her like a physical blow. Her feet began to burn as they touched the frozen ground. She began to shiver uncontrollably as she stepped into the water.

Aiyee! It burns!

He grabbed her head and forced her to sit and then lie down, finally pushing her face under the water. Pain shot through her like a jolt.

Then she stopped shivering. She lost the strength to sit up. Her body began to feel warm and numb and her mind became drowsy.

How long had she been under the water?

Hey! Have you forgotten about me?

Suddenly she was hurtling through the universe.

Her eyes snapped open to Ba'al's handsome face looking at her in shock.

"Jacinta, what are you doing here?" He was speaking in her mind.

She threw herself into his arms.

Could they merge, maybe just for a little while, maybe just this once?

Probably not.

"I thought I would surprise you."

"You have grown much, my dear little daimôn. Thank you for ending the existence of Mot, it finished much evil."

"I can't stay, I'm in the middle of being initiated. Can I destroy Gansükh, without fighting his daimôn lord, Namatar?"

"I don't think so."

"Having to kill Namatar is the last thing I want." Jacinta grimaced.

"Assuming you can. Gansükh is not worth the loss of Namatar. You must find a way to weaken Namatar, get him to disappear for a while and then you can kill Gansükh."

"That doesn't sound easy. Can Gansükh train more šamáns to summon daimôns?"

"No." Ba'al looked grim. "We will kill any šamán whose soul he sends here now. But be careful.

"Æloðulf can summon other beings, not just daimôns, and Gansükh has surrounded himself with others of great power. In a dream I saw a woman, a warrior-ṧamánka like you, standing by his side. You will have to kill her first and she is very dangerous. She has also lived in the daimôn realm."

"Kako Vesako didn't warn me about her."

Though he can be a little vague at times.

"You will know her from the healing touch and a heart of ice. I will send you some help. You are definitely going to need it."

She was already speeding back.

Jacinta woke surrounded by Sophie, Daniel, Eunike and two novices. She was shivering violently, they had bundled her up in blankets and they offered her warm milk and honey.

"That was impressive," Daniel said. "All that was left here was a shadow."

"Argh," was all Jess could manage.

"You will need rest."

But she was already asleep.

 

Thank you

Thank you for reading Paladin Chronicles Book Bundle 1-4. I hope you have enjoyed it.

If so, look out for the second bundle 5-7 which will allow you to complete the series.

If you did enjoy my books and are able, please leave a favourable review.

They really boost book sales and help spread the word.

 

 

Excerpt

The Paladin Chronicles

Book Bundle 5-7

Book 5

Book 5 is set in the very distant past (in Copper Age Norway) when the Elves first faced extinction. In some ways it is a prequel to the main story, but it is meant to be read between book 4 and 6. It explains some of what has been in the first four books and sets the scene for Books 6 and 7

It also introduces a new heroine, Hervor.

 

Excerpt, from Book 5: The Man who Never Was

Chapter 1: Ālfheimr, Autumn

Ālfheimr, autumn.

There was a great storm brewing, and this was a land of great storms.

Air and water currents from the south warmed the narrow coast and then warm moist air had to rise sharply to get over the high central mountains.

They had some good rain and the last two days were hot and dry, so Hervor knew it was a good time for mushrooms. She remembered a secret spot from last season where she found some white morel, the ones her mother loved most of all, but if she couldn't find them, kantarell, golden and flute-like, were especially good this season.

As soon as she finished her morning chores, she hurried to grab her basket. Her mother, Svafa, only gave her a look of mild surprise. She said nothing about the coming storm, nor did she ask her daughter to be careful.

They were elves. No warning was needed, and elves are not fond of unnecessary words.

Hervor swung her basket as she hurried up the steep hill, humming a prayer to the Mother. The elves loved their mushrooms and her contribution was very welcome, but to Hervor a mushroom hunt was more fun than work. She loved exercise and she loved being out in the fresh air. Sometimes she just wanted to run and run, just for the fun of it, ... and sometimes she did.

She paused, as she always did at the crest of the hill, to look down on Ālfheimr (Elf-home), the village of her birth. The view was shadowed by the coming storm, but to Hervor there was nowhere more beautiful than her home.

There was a time well before she was born when the elves had great cities and numbers beyond counting, but not now. Now there were very few elves, and this was their largest village.

Tens of millennia ago all this land was locked under a titanic sheet of ice but the world grew warmer and the ice cap melted. After that there were glaciers. When they in their turn retreated, the rising sea level flooded the glacial valleys and formed fjords: long narrow inlets, flanked by steep cliffs carved by the ice long ago and stunning in their beauty.

The fjord that led to Ālfheimr widened into a shallow bay and the main village sat just up from that. The valley beyond was flat and green and fertile. Then came the hills and forest, quickly giving way to the mountains.

The mountains were dark, tall and forbidding, naked of trees and white on the peaks, with their sides streaked with snow. The Norse called them the Dovrefjell (Dovre Mountains). Only the Sami, the ancient people of this land, knew of ways over them.

For a moment Hervor shuddered. The feeling she was being watched was so strong that she spun around, her free hand clutched for her knife and her elf senses alert.

Only another elf could sneak up on her in the forest, but this was no elf, it felt like something dark, brooding and malevolent.

There was nothing that she could see and the feeling passed quickly, but it still left her feeling unsettled. She tried to calm down, and drink in peace of the view. This was her beloved hills and forests, and down below was her home. She cast her eye over the village again. It was dominated by the great stockade on a rise, surrounded by earthworks and a tall palisade of pine logs, small in the distance now.

Inside of the stockade was a wooden watch tower at the harbour end, standing tall. At the other end was her father's great-house; huge and rambling. It had to be big, as it doubled as a meeting house and was home to many of the single men and widowers of the village.

Scattered around were the other houses and sheds: storage sheds, smoke houses, barns, pit houses and a couple of deep dugouts for storing ice from winter or brought down from the mountains, and some precious frozen goods.

Most of the buildings had stone foundations and, after the fashion of the elves, were made from wood and gaily decorated; carved and painted with woodland scenes, bright awnings and flowers in small window boxes. Even the canoe houses had plants in pots and wooden lattice windows with herbs and flowers (and 'small magic') to keep insects out.

Trees grew everywhere in the village as the elves loved their trees, and the houses and trails through the village were decorated by quartz crystals on strings. At night the elves used their 'small-magic', to make the crystals sing and shine with coloured lights that glowed and twinkled.

To live one's life in beauty was one of the highest forms of praise an elf could give to their Goddess, the Great Earth Mother.

Ālfheimr was her home. It was a beautiful place, and it was a safe place for the elves.

Hervor shifted the basket more comfortably and jogged effortlessly into the forest, now turning red, gold and brown with autumn. The brief feeling of alarm was forgotten as she used her sharp elf vision to rapidly scan for mushrooms and berries.

While elves of her time do not age like humans, they grew up not too much differently. So at twenty Hervor was the size of a full grown elf-woman. At five foot ten she was taller than many human men of her time but being an elf she was slender, almost delicate looking. She was old enough to bear her own children but elves marry late and Hervor was still considered young for an elf maiden.

Most elves, men and women, shared the inhuman beauty of their kind and Hervor was no exception. She had a pale complexion with a faint dusting of freckles, elfin ears, a heart shaped face and penetrating green eyes that shone in the shadow.

She grew her hair barely longer than shoulder length but it was the thing she liked most of all about how she looked. Underneath her blue head scarf it was flaming red, soft and silky.

The mushroom hunt this day was particularly good. She was so absorbed by it that she came as close as an elf could possibly come to forgetting about the storm. By the time she finished dark clouds were boiling over the sky and light was failing under an inky mass of darkness.

A last flight of gulls winged for shelter.

The haze in the distance and a chill wind gusting warned her that rain was already on the mountains and moving rapidly closer.

Hervor ran now, as only an elf could run, like a bird flying low over the ground. Down the hill and across the valley she raced the wind and storm, barefoot through the grass, moss and sedges. She left the stand of sacred birch behind her; its ivory trunks spotted black like old bones and its autumn leaves trembling in the wind.

Nimbly she picked her way bare foot over the stones of the icy stream and then pounded up the slope to the stockade, the air sounding to her tinkling laughter.

By this time the wind had become a hungry, living, animal spirit, howling and clutching at her scarf. The rain had reached the edge of the valley and was sheeting down.

She was barely to the open gate of the stockade when, with a deafening roar, the storm hit. First the hail, stunning her and causing her to put on a burst of speed, half-blinded, her eyes screwed up against the assault.

One hand held down the lid of the basket as she dodged rocks and stunted bushes and then flew, laughing, up the wooden steps of her father's house. She pulled off her scarf to wipe the water from her face and stood for a moment, bent over and panting, in the shelter of the veranda.

"The storm is going to be a big one. Did you run all the way down from the hills, girl?" Adalwolf (Noble Wolf) called out from his seat near the wall. "You only just made it, já."

Hervor grinned at him and spun to look back at where she had come. Even with elf vision the visibility was poor, with the storm sleeting and the darkness growing.

She raised her eyes in a prayer of thanks.

"Thank the Mother, we got the barley harvest in."

"And thank the Mother that we are safe," Adalwolf replied.

It was the ritual words: we are safe.

Elves are a vigilant people and they do not forget easily; and yet it was seven hundred years ago that their last great leader, Prince Hjørvard, led the pathetic remnants of the elves into the lands of snow and ice.

Their mentors, the svartálfar, had promised them weapons to fight the daimôns. The dwarves, too, had promised to help. Everyone knew war was coming but when it did come the weapons were never given to them, and the help from the dwarves never came.

In the end the free svartálfar, who were so clever and powerful in magic, could do little against a daimôn army. The elvish warriors kept their courage and they fought ... and they perished.

In mere days their great host was lying dead in the fields and their beautiful cities were burnt to the ground. All those who had sheltered within them had been slaughtered and the rest were being mercilessly hunted down. Only the few that Hjørvard led to the cold lands survived.

The cold gave them a way to fight the daimôns. Daimôns are creatures of energy and they cannot abide the cold. Water or snow can banish them, though not forever. Banishing a daimôn gave the elves some respite. It caused a drain on those that summoned them and, without their daimôns, the Illvættir (the daimôn summoners) could be killed.

No one knows the full story of that desperate flight but finally they came to this place, wounded and hungry. It had been a colder, harsher place then, and there had been very few elves.

The world was growing warmer. With the warmth came trees; at first it was snow forest, mainly fir and birch; long lived and slow growing with the short growing season.

Since the elves came, there had been more and more deciduous trees. The last of the old animals disappeared and the new animals like reindeer, elk, bears and wolves had moved in, along with lots of birds, small animals and fish.

The elves fished and hunted and they planted their crops and tended their herds. They had become more numerous and prosperous, at least after a fashion.

But still the elves remembered and whenever the cold came, or a great storm, they gave thanks and repeated the words: thank the Mother, we are safe.