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

"Trouble?" echoed Hakeem. "You are starting to scare me, Omar. Am I to be given no choice in my life? I am committed to King Helios and I am a father. Where will this paladin thing take me?"

"For this," Omar continued, pouring tea for both of them, "you need to have faith. It is likely you are exactly where you need to be, doing what you need to do."

"Trouble!" whispered Hakeem with a shudder. The hairs on the back of his arms and neck were standing up. He glanced out the window. The afternoon was starting to fail behind a bank of clouds. He shuddered as the scene darkened.

Omar continued quietly. "The elves have a prophecy, unimaginably ancient. It is about a time of great testing. They believe that time is upon us now. And now we are given you. You are our paladin and you will be our Warlord. We can read the signs. Yours will not to be an individual quest.

"You are here to lead the mobilisation of all of the tribes. Hakeem, you have been sent to lead us to war."

Hakeem could hardly breathe; he stared sightlessly out the window. "And I am tied to Helios of Aiolía and Helios is tied to Troia and Troia is tied to Lydia," he whispered.

It involved them all!

Omar nodded. "I am sorry, Hakeem."

Hakeem was appalled, what dread thing could threaten the Shantawi, the elves and all of Anatolē.

He knew, but didn't know how, that something was coming to threaten the safety of everyone he loved. He thought of them all: Jacinta, Myriani, King Helios … everyone.

He felt very sobered indeed. Suddenly nothing was frivolous. It was all closing in. It would rest on him.

Grimly, he drew himself up. He whispered, not to Omar, but to his God, "I will not refuse."

He would give his life and all he had, if need be, to protect those he loved.

"I'm sorry my son," Omar repeated.

"Thank you, Father," Hakeem said softly. "Would you do me the honour of leading me in prayer? I need to pray; I think we will all need to pray before this is over."

After a period of prayer, and a slow walk around the chapterhouse, Hakeem felt a little better. He came back to the room Jacinta was allocated, not far from Daniel.

Jacinta was resting in bed, still looking flushed from exercise. "What happened to you?" she asked. "You look so serious!"

"Yes, I was talking to Father Omar about some serious things," Hakeem said. Then he brightened up. "But I have some good news. I'd like to change your name," he announced.

"Hakeem!" Jacinta looked puzzled. "I like Jacinta! I don't want to change it."

"I agree, Jacinta's a lovely name. I think you should keep it. But I still want to change your name."

Jacinta was used to Hakeem's sense of humour. She simply pouted, sat up with her arms crossed and waited for him to tell her.

She was caught between frowning and half smiling. He really liked to tease, especially when offering her some treat. She had no idea what was about to come.

"How would Jacinta bint Hakeem sound? I've got permission to formally adopt you, if you'll have me," he finished.

"If I'll have you? If!" Jacinta squealed and launched herself across the bed at Hakeem, who scooped her up in a hug. Jacinta was crying; she was laughing and crying and clutching at him.

Hakeem felt wonderful. He marvelled at Jacinta's power to lighten his heart.

"The ceremony will happen the day after tomorrow. There are other things planned for tomorrow," Hakeem said.

"Yeh, there's some important guest. Everyone's abuzz with the news. Do you know anything about it?"

"Yes I do, Jacinta. I'm the important guest."

"Hakeem!" she laughed at his teasing. "Can you ever stop joking?"

"I am serious," Hakeem replied, looking away for a moment.

"But you're just a …." Jacinta stopped.

Hakeem had never told her what rank he was. "I thought you were ..."

Suddenly it hit her. Nadeer wasn't the horse of a normal soldier. Hakeem was well off ... his special sword and fine armour.

"Hakeem, I mean Dad, you aren't a minor officer are you?"

Hakeem shook his head. "I'm a little more than that. I'm sorry I've never told you till now. I was a cavalry captain … well better than that, I suppose, as I was the leader of King Helios's personal bodyguard, and his special aide during the war. Then I was the head military liaison to our delegation to Troia.

"But when I return to Aiolía, I will become a Taxiarchos. I will be the Commander of the Shantawi mercenaries."

A full commander! Gods! Her new father would be a full commander! He was only twenty-two, how was that even possible? I must be dreaming! But wait on …

"I did a few small things in the recent war and I have a little bit of a reputation."

People had been talking in awe of the special visitor. Jacinta had seen Hakeem fighting and training. Wherever his name was mentioned, his reputation seemed to be known, but for some reason she had never thought deeply about that. Until now.

She had no doubt that he did considerably more than 'a few small things'. She was shocked by the scope of the revelation. Curse Hakeem, he should have told her!

Jacinta's head was starting to spin. What else could there be? But Hakeem was continuing. "My becoming a paladin, you already know. What I didn't know until just now is that it's a little more important than I thought."

There were way too many "littles" in this talk!

Jacinta was starting to panic.

"It looks like if war threatens my people, I will be nominated as the one to take command, and I will get the title of Warlord."

Jacinta's mouths dropped open, "What, of the tribesmen? Warlord of all the tribesmen! In peace, what is your title?"

"Er, Warlord."

"I thought you were a mercenary."

"Well I am. It is the way of our people. I'm still expected to earn my keep," Hakeem replied.

"Hakeem, I'm not sure I know you," Jacinta was shocked. "I feel lost all of a sudden."

"Jacinta, you know me, better than anyone." He gripped her shoulders and stared anxiously at her face. "You know the real me. Please Jacinta, you know I love you so much."

"I don't feel good enough. I'm a peasant Gypsy girl. I just don't belong as an important man's daughter."

"Well, I say you're more than good enough!" Hakeem said, "If I ever had to choose between all this and being your father, I'd choose you."

"Thank you," Jacinta said in a small voice. "I suppose I always knew you weren't ordinary. But I never thought it could be anything so big. You don't say much about yourself."

She kept her next thought to herself … and you fight and teach so well, you're freakish!

"I think you will be very special too, in the end. I've never met a student like you."

Great, Jacinta thought, I can become a freak too.

All she said was, "If there is anything else, please tell me now."

"I don't want to scare you," started Hakeem

"What! Are you joking?" Jacinta almost shouted.

"Now you say you don't want to scare me. Tell me, tell me now!"

Her voice was rising. And then he told her the rest.

"Trouble …" Jacinta reflected, thinking.

Gypsies are unquestioning in supporting their family in trouble. It sounded big, but Jacinta wasn't as worried by this 'trouble' as much as by the fact that her new father was so important.

His status was simply unimaginable to a Gypsy girl, growing up in poverty, but as far as 'trouble' was concerned she had a child's faith in the abilities of her new father.

Hakeem was right, she decided. She did know him. He was gentle, quiet, and humble. He was wonderful, and she loved him. Gypsies are if nothing else, adaptable. She would take things as they came.

They talked some more and Hakeem stayed to tuck Jacinta in. "Good night, Jacinta."

"Good night, father, er, Sir."

"Don't 'Sir' me!" Hakeem replied in mock outrage, shaking her shoulders a little and tickling her through the blanket. She laughed back in glee. As he hugged her and kissed her goodnight on the forehead, he felt capable of facing anything, anything at all.

* * *

The next day was taken up with martial arts demonstrations and contests. In the morning some of the novice monks had a chance to demonstrate their techniques and get a lesson from the 'famous' Hakeem.

Before lunch, Hakeem did a demonstration of his uncanny speed and accuracy with a horse-bow, guiding Nadeer with his knees. Most of the audience were used to smaller horses and were stunned by Nadeer's thunderous power and speed, with the horse and rider moving as one.

It was a familiar drill to Hakeem, and he managed to hit all the targets dead centre, whilst galloping around the obstacles in a stunning display of power, speed and control. Nadeer obviously loved showing off and enjoyed it as much as the audience.

The adoption ceremony the day after was a quiet one. It involved Hakeem, Daniel, Jacinta, Omar and an official witness. Hakeem gave Jacinta a lovely silver ankle-bracelet to match what she already had. She was delighted. Then the four friends hugged each other and shared a final meal and some gossip.

During the meal it began to be obvious that Jacinta seemed to be working 'father' into almost all her conversation, with a slight dreamy smile. They were speaking Greek, not Aramaic, and Omar started a word game to try to work patéras (father) into whatever he said as well, with a small pause beforehand.

In the end, the two children were giggling uncontrollably every time they heard, or anticipated, Hakeem and Father Omar using the word.

Hakeem decided to make it an early night, and as they were walking back, Jacinta called "father!" again, but when he replied, "Yes, Jacinta?" Jacinta had to admit, "I'm sorry Hakeem, I can't think of anything to ask you. I just like the sound of calling you father."

Hakeem stopped and lifted her gently up till she was sitting on his hip and looking into his face. "You know what?" Hakeem said smiling at his daughter, "I really like the way you say it. It sounds really good to me too."

Jacinta put her arms around his neck and hugged him as hard as she could. Then Hakeem began to walk with her draped over his shoulder bouncing up and down in an exaggerated way with each step. "Father," he said and tickled her gently. "Father," he repeated with another tickle. Soon the pair were laughing and cuddling excitedly.

Neither Jacinta nor Hakeem could get to sleep immediately, both were lying back and smiling. It was good they were in separate rooms, Hakeem realised. He probably couldn't have stopped Jacinta talking all night.

Jacinta could hardly contain herself. Hakeem her father. She had a family again. She no longer thought of marriage to Hakeem, but she loved the idea of Hakeem as her father.

* * *

Mindful of the passage of time, Hakeem was keen to leave early the next day.

He decided to take a shortcut as the snowfall had been light this winter. This would allow him to stay one night at Myriani's, to drop off a wedding gift: two gold bangles for Kassandra. The route was rugged and little travelled but it cut across elf land, so should be safe.

They set out early and made good time. Omar knew the route and gave them directions to a cave were travellers often spent the night.

They rose early on the second day, hoping to make it to Myriani's that day or early the next.

 

Chapter 16: Assassins, Prophecy, and an Elf Princess in Danger

Djorn looked gravely at the wounded man as Elena and one of his maids tended his wounds. The escort sent for Elena had been ambushed and only this man survived. Someone was hunting the Princess and someone in Elgard had betrayed them.

They couldn't wait for a second escort. Her conception had taken far too long. Time was running out and Elena had to get home.

He could not guarantee her safety here. He did not have a fort. All his fighters were only local farmers, militia men. Till she reached her home, she was in terrible danger and brought danger to everyone around her.

Such was the reputation of the Western Elves that they hadn't had to do any serious fighting here for some time, and most of his veterans were starting to age. Well, it would have to do. They'd done it once; they would do it again.

He had four strong sons, experienced in woods-craft and had sent his servants to summon whatever force would come. Other men, he had sent out to hire mercenaries and guides in secret. He would meet them on the road. He had to leave here quickly: this place was known. They would be safer in the woods.

* * *

The men of the house were quiet and grim as they readied themselves and their horses.

They tried to reassure the women folk, but the women could see their men were frightened. Elena and the other women were pale and subdued. Their enemies could come to this house.

Eugenia would go to her cousins with the other women until the house could be secured. The men would take Elena to the safety of the woods. There they would meet with the rest of the men at a secret place.

Elena found herself hugging Eugenia for the last time. "Thank you, madam. I'll never forget you and your family. I would like to call you friends, all of you. Bringing trouble to your home is the last thing I would have wished."

"Elena, we are proud if you name us friends and you have been a pleasure to have. You will make a brave and gracious queen for all our people, Western Elves as well. The Great Mother has chosen well."

For an instant, Elena's control slipped and she clung to Eugenia, crying. She only wished she could have had a mother like Eugenia, and a family like her family. With a profuse apology she put on a brave face and thanked and hugged each of the others including the maidservants.

Then Elena turned to smile tentatively at her maid, Iona.

"Don't even think it, my Lady, you're not getting rid of me so easily, I'm coming!" Iona stated firmly and loudly. "You have always been kind to me, my Lady," she finished softly.

Elena didn't expect it and her tears came again, so she could only nod and smile. She felt a renewed surge of fear to think of the danger she was taking everyone into.

There was no time, they had to go.

* * *

It was night and they could hear the men searching for them. All the others were dead.

Elena whispered to Iona "Better you didn't come."

Iona whispered back, "My lady, I am privileged to stay with you. I'm not smart, but you have always treated me well."

Elena felt tears of gratitude. "I'm lucky to have you. Maybe there might be maids who are smarter. I don't think I could find any who was a better friend."

They both giggled a little and squeezed each other's hand, then they crept on together, their hearts racing in fear.

* * *

Shortly after setting out on the second day, Hakeem motioned Jacinta for silence.

The two travellers unpacked their bows and notched an arrow each. As Hakeem was scouring the forest and ridges, he realised what it was that alerted him.

It was too quiet.

They left their horses and crept up a hillock that gave them a view over the trail ahead. Where the trail separated into two, there were signs that a large number of horses had passed that way in a hurry.

Hakeem didn't know for sure if it was trouble, but he wouldn't have stayed alive this long by ignoring his hunches. He had a very bad feeling, and Jacinta was with him!

He had to fight an impulse to simply turn back. This was too close to Myriani's place. If there was any danger here, he needed to know about it to warn her and her neighbours.

Then he saw something through the trees. It was an elf, sitting with his back to a tree, slumped as if tiredness had caused him to fall sleep and the bow to drop from his hands. He had three arrows sticking from his chest; a crimson stain had fallen to the snow beneath.

Hakeem and Jacinta stayed still for a good time, listening, Jacinta looking very frightened.

Hakeem feared the horses would make noise, but they were well trained.

There seemed no one around. This made sense: it was simple to hide the evidence in this forest, so whoever had done this was in too much of a hurry. Unless, it was a trap, but a trap for whom?

While Jacinta kept guard, Hakeem donned his breast plate, shin guards and the rest of his armour. He hissed instructions to Jacinta. If anything happened to him, she was to go straight to the chapterhouse. No heroics, a message must be sent out. Jacinta nodded, looking pale beneath her dark complexion.

He carried his bow behind his shield with his quiver over his shoulder and went down to investigate the dead elf. He moved very cautiously, keeping to cover and scanning the surrounding bush and ridges. Shortly before he reached the body, he relaxed and stood up, motioning Jacinta to join him, though his eyes continued to scan.

As Jacinta came up, he whispered for her to read what she saw.

"Well," Jacinta said softly, unsettled by the dead body, but not as much as one would expect. "He still wears his gold ring. Unless the killers were afraid of magic, which is not likely amongst such men, they were in too much of a hurry. This is not robbery, it's murder. They went on to chase others. I suspect they'll come back, but I don't think they are nearby now.

"Look at the quality of his clothes, and the design on the ring," she continued. "He wasn't poor or ordinary."

"Very good," Hakeem said. "But did the unlucky elf manage to give an account of himself?"

Jacinta bent down curiously. "His quiver's not full. He may have used some arrows hunting, but I don't think so, this is a war-bow. I think horses were tethered over there." She pointed. "The snow's trampled by horses, so it's hard to tell. There's blood on the ground over there and signs of at least one body being dragged." She pointed again, puzzled. "They hid the bodies of their own men despite their hurry, but not their victim."

"I think at least three bodies were dragged." Hakeem nodded with approval. "But who could sneak up on an elf in the bush?"

"Yes, who could?" Jacinta agreed thoughtfully. "He must have been part of a group that were expecting others, so they didn't hide.

"Elves, if they wish it, are hard to find. They were unlucky or betrayed. But this one didn't even try to take cover. He sacrificed himself for the others, but he's a senior elf Lord. He must have been protecting someone who was even more important."

"Excellent!" Hakeem was astounded she could read so much. "Likely the light was bad, as the murderers did a poor job of covering their tracks. With the state of the body, this makes it last night. Now lead me to the other bodies and we'll know why it was so important to hide them."

Hakeem took the ring and put it in a pouch, it would do for later identification.

It was not hard to find three bodies hastily dumped under some tree branches. Hakeem recognised them as Sumerian, the original inhabitants of Mesopotamia. They were unmistakable: dark complexions, broad noses, dark curly hair and beards.

But Jacinta saw something else "Hashshahsin!" she hissed, pointing out the distinctive dagger.

It was a small religious sect and contained a number of Sumerians. Their name meant followers of "Hassin". They were universally despised and hated.

Relatively small in numbers, they lacked military strength to protect their religious communities. Instead, they took to assassination. Experts in stealth and penetrating security, their famous daggers became a symbol of terror.

A dagger left on a pillow, would serve as a convincing warning. That any would-be conqueror would lose his life deterred many until they were finally overwhelmed in a revenge attack, after an attempt on a nearby ruler's life.

Those left could be hired for money, but only a great deal of money. To hire so many must have cost a fortune. Someone was very serious about killing whomever these men hunted.

After they brought their horses closer, Hakeem pointed out further tracks to Jacinta, some of people in boots running desperately, pursued by horses. They soon came upon two more dead elves and an impressive number of dead assassins. Though heavily outnumbered, the elves had made this a battle the assassins would have little taste for. The assassins had their own bowmen but it was no surprise that they were a poor match for elvish archers in the dark.

The horsemen had been forced to dismount and lead their horses. Further on, Hakeem and Jacinta found the last two dead elves. It was hard to track further on the rocky ground but Hakeem thought he could detect tracks of two that had escaped, women in dresses he thought. He hoped they knew the countryside well.

The horsemen had obviously tried to encircle the remaining escapees but had since gone on. So, they hadn't found them yet.

Where were the ones who escaped? Where were the rest of the assassins and why were all the dead elves dressed like nobles?

They moved forward cautiously, keeping to the cover.

Suddenly a high-pitched scream of agony startled the two, it was shockingly close. A woman was dying.

They could hear excited men's voices and then a sharp male yell.

* * *

The man had stabbed at Elena but Iona pushed the princess hard to the side and spun in time to take the sword thrust herself. As Iona staggered back, Elena drew her knife and flung herself at the man, in a fury, but she only managed to wound him in the shoulder.

He cursed and cuffed her so hard she saw a flash of light. Stunned and half-conscious, she felt herself being roughly stripped naked by the men, and she could hear them hammering stakes into the ground. They dragged her across the ground, naked and bleeding.

For stabbing their chief, Elena would die slowly but first she would be violated by all these men.

She felt consumed by anger and despair as they staked her out. So many good people had died for her and for what? Hers was to be a short and bitter life. It would end in this lonely place, in pain and failure.

The Prophecy, the last hope of the elves had come to nothing.

She shut her eyes hard against the tears. Her captors seeing this, laughed at her, pointing excitedly.

No, she decided. She would show them courage till the end.

A magic far-seeing glass was being used to watch Elena from a far place. Watching was a group of elves including a great elf lord and a shadowy barbarian, a guest from the East.

The vision darkened and was gone. "We have lost sight of the bitch!" The elf lord cursed. "It will be some ancient magic, there are many ruins buried in that land. Now I will miss my show." He spat, disgusted.

"Do not worry, my lord," one of his men said. "We won't see Elena again."

* * *

Hakeem and Jacinta tied the horses and crept to the top of a nearby ridge. They could see the murderers had caught the last of their quarry.

One elvish maiden was leaning against a rock bent over clutching at her stomach. There was a stain spreading rapidly across her dress. As they watched, she toppled forward and lay still, face down in the dirt. One of the assassins had removed his armour and was having a wound on his shoulder bound.

Two assassins were holding a half conscious fair haired elvish girl, maybe 17 or 18. They were cutting and tearing all the clothes from her.

Hakeem noted a youth minding a large group of horses, and a single lookout, on a small rise. Hakeem counted ten in all, four of them bowmen. The assassins had paid a high price to capture this elf.

Hakeem couldn't understand what they were saying, but their intention was plain.

The fair-haired young elf-girl could only be one person. She had to be Princess Elena of the Eastern Elves! Only she would be important enough for the other elf nobles to sacrifice their lives.

It was astounding, what would she be doing in this wilderness? Trying to find a way back across the mountains to her home obviously, but where were her guards? All there had been was a handful of elf nobles and a maid.

He motioned to Jacinta and they moved back from the ridge, to talk quietly. Jacinta knew what was coming and looked pale and frightened.

"I want you to go back to the cave," he said quietly.

Jacinta started to shake her head in horror, mouthing a silent "no."

She was shivering violently with tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Please, no. They'll kill you Hakeem! There's too many!"

"Now listen to me," Hakeem murmured urgently. "If anything happens to me, news of this has to get out. If I don't join you in one turn of the glass, I want you to head for the monastery and raise the alarm.

"Myriani will care and love you for my sake." He passed her all his remaining money.

"I can't lose you too!" Jacinta clutched desperately at him.

"I'm sorry Jacinta, this is what I am. Even if it kills me, I will try to help that girl.

"Now, you gave a promise to obey me if there was danger and I need you to do so. Remember, I love you more than my life itself."

That promise gave Jacinta pause. They kissed each other and hugged fiercely, reluctant to let go of each other. Jacinta knew him well. It was useless to try to talk him out of this.

Hakeem walked with her back to their horses. He would need Nadeer and a lot of luck for what he planned. The assassins were staking the girl out and would rape her before killing her. It would be an intensely pleasurable scene, or so Hakeem hoped. But he was not thinking of pleasure for himself.

How could anyone keep a proper watch, with such a show going on? The Hashshahsin wouldn't expect to be disturbed. They may be fearsome killers by stealth, but they were ill suited to the woods.

He needed all the luck he could get but, when he peered down on the scene again, he smiled.

Apart from the lookout, the bows, shields, weapons and armour, even clothes were being laid down in preparation for their fun. He calculated a good vantage point for himself and thought through what he would have to do. He took out four arrows, three he passed to the left hand that held the bow and one he fitted to the bowstring.

A great cheer arose as the leader was taking off his pants. He bowed to the audience with a big smile on his face, gestured to his erection and stepped towards the girl who was tied spread-eagled on the ground and struggling desperately. Hakeem was too busy to spare more than a glance at her naked body.

He stood up and quickly fired two arrows in succession. The guard and the youth minding the horses were hit square in the chest. Thank Apollōn, they made little noise. But something alerted the leader who spun round, to receive the next arrow sent with lethal aim.

There was time for one more shot, as pandemonium broke loose. Men were scrambling to get their weapons; one of the bowmen was his next running target. That left three bowmen.

Hakeem could have picked them off in a game of hide and seek in this wilderness. He really was that good, but they would kill the princess, so he had to act quickly. He didn't waste his time on the men with shields who were clustering together, trying to crouch behind their shields. There were three bowmen to eliminate. One was aiming at the helpless princess but Hakeem's superior speed put an arrow in his chest, while one of his friends sent a panicked shot whistling past Hakeem's ear. The other remaining bowman's aim was even worse, and he died with Hakeem's next arrow. The last remaining bowman tried to run for better cover. Hakeem quickly fired, taking him in the back.

Moving with great speed, Hakeem dropped his bow rather than take the precious seconds to secure it. He needed to be amongst the assassins below, and quickly. He leaped up on Nadeer, drawing Mir and loosening his shield at the same time.

And then it happened.

He had missed a second lookout hiding behind a rise. He felt a sensation like being punched hard as his right thigh and was pinned to the saddle by an arrow.

He couldn't do anything. He couldn't get off to recover his bow. He had Nadeer pointed the wrong way and partly downhill, it would be difficult to turn. He couldn't reach the bowman on horseback who was sheltering behind the nearby trees.

He brought his shield around to guard his back and slipped Mir down to lever his leg free, while desperately trying to bring Nadeer's head around.

Nadeer was trying, but he was pointed down the slope and his hooves were slipping on ice and loose rocks. He would lose balance if he tried to turn.

There was nothing for it. He would have to complete the charge down the slope with his back exposed to the archer. He wondered how far he would get. The man seeing this grinned and ran up closer for a sure shot. While Hakeem struggled to help Nadeer regain balance, the assassin stopped and started to draw his bow.

He'd probably aim at Nadeer, which would leave Hakeem helpless trapped under a dying horse or thrown by his panicked mount.

Hakeem tried to fruitlessly guard both himself and his horse with his shield. With Hakeem twisted around, Nadeer wouldn't move forward. Hakeem was in no position to guide the horse with his knees, and his hands were full.

Just then there was a loud 'thunk'.

The man grunted and looked up in surprise. The arrow fell from his fingers and he coughed weakly. As he slumped forward, the arrow sticking out of his back could be clearly seen, with Jacinta, running through the bush behind him.

"Jacinta!" Hakeem yelled in relief and delight.

He waved his sword and turned to let Nadeer have his head. As he did so, the breath caught in his throat and his heart almost stopped. From this higher view, the full dangerousness of the slope was revealed.

Nadeer obeyed his command, but the big horse was far too heavy, the slope would never bear his weight.

It was slippery with ice, rocks and mud. Three quarters down there was an overhang. The horse would have to negotiate the treacherous surface, give a jump and then somehow pull up very sharp at the bottom, so as not to blunder into the swordsmen, or the trees and rocks beyond.

Hakeem felt a surge of fear and guilt for his loyal horse, but Nadeer did not refuse. He was magnificently strong and fast, his hindquarters slipped on the loose pebbles till he almost sat on his rear before surging forward and crashing through the scrub that lined the slope. If so much as one hoof caught, it would be over.

Somehow, he did it, and Hakeem was amongst the remaining assassins. He had managed to free his leg from being pinned to the saddle but it was taking further damage by the jostling. He forced his mind to block out the searing pain. He couldn't afford to feel faint or be distracted.

The remainder were swordsmen, ill-trained in formation fighting. They had used the time to start to advance on the helpless princess. Hakeem savagely barged them from his left, using his shield and horse to good effect. He was able to cut two down quickly and the remaining two did not take much longer.

Jacinta came running down and he barked at her, "Keep guard for me, Meli!"

He was pleased that she looked alert and competent.

He half slid, half fell, off Nadeer, who was thankfully unscathed. He gave the horse a fierce hug, wanting to stay there hugging Nadeer for a long time.

He grabbed his water bottle and his cape and limped over to the princess who was … without any doubt ... the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his entire life.

For an instant he was struck dumb. He could do nothing, but stare down at her beautiful face and body. She had golden shiny silky hair, cut short, almost boyish. Her features were fine in the way of the elves with blond lashes and startling green eyes. The pointed elf-ears peeking through her hair looked so incredibly appealing. Her blush under a dusting of freckles and her pale skin was perfect. He tried unsuccessfully to avert his gaze, but she was so wonderful.

She was tall and slender, slightly built. She had a young girl's small breasts but they were filling out and the nipples were reddened due to a pregnancy. The small bump in her abdomen suggested it was early. Somehow, this made her even more desirable.

Her beauty was not diminished by scratches and bruises and dirt. Only an instant had passed, but Hakeem was completely captivated and stunned by her beauty.

"So!" she screamed at him at the top of her voice, showing none of the usual musical cadence of an elf. Her face was distorted with rage. "You fight for the pleasure of having me! Now you gloat, as if I'm a prize. Get on with it, pig. No woman can get over her revulsion of you. No one will get into your bed, no matter how much you pay. A woman tied to the ground is all you can have."

Hakeem realised he was staring down at her. He burned with shame and clumsily covered her nakedness.

"Great Lady, please forgive me," he said, as he sat next to her, clumsy with the pain from his wounded leg. "You are so beautiful," he whispered softly.

"DON'T MOCK ME!" she screamed.

She was on the verge of angry tears, face red with the effort as she struggled against her bonds. Her eyes widened, as she saw him take out his knife, and she threw herself back and forward in desperation.

Hakeem was appalled. Would she think he had taken all this trouble just to cut her throat?

Why of course! The assassins tied her facing away from their camp, so she couldn't see.

They wanted to make it even more terrifying. They wanted to play with her, to see her break! Taken aback by her agitation, he shouted, "TRUCE!" loudly.

There was no mistaking the Elvish word, a formal offer of friendship and mutual aid.

Elena slumped back, no longer struggling. She looked at him, eyes wide in shock, as if he had suddenly grown a second head. Then she nodded her agreement jerkily, with a look of confusion on her face.

He continued in Elvish, as he cut the leather binding her hands. "Princess, I came to rescue you. Forgive my crude behaviour. I shouldn't have stared I know. I speak true, I was overcome by your beauty." He reached out to massage her wrists but she jerked back. Then he passed his water across to her as he worked to free her legs.

A lunatic, she thought, accepting the water.

I've been rescued by a barbarian lunatic. I'm ugly and fat with child, dirty, smelly, covered in bruises and scratches, dragged through the dirt and he finds me beautiful!

Hakeem asked her if she was seriously hurt. Her ribs were giving her sharp pain, one was likely cracked, but when he offered to examine them she angrily shrugged him off.

"What, haven't you seen enough, barbarian? You speak our tongue like a dog growls, but it's impressive enough, I guess. Few humans know it."

Hakeem felt ashamed. He had looked, however briefly, at her naked body. He took advantage of her, and she was a princess. He felt mortified but had trouble banishing the image from his mind, and felt fullness in his groin.

At the same token he was starting to feel weak from blood loss. He quickly fashioned a tourniquet for his leg from leftover leather bindings.

"This one's alive," Jacinta warned, from higher up, "and also the young man up with the horses."

Hakeem painfully pulled himself upright using his sword and limped to the dying assassin. "Who paid you?" he asked. The man spat weakly.

Hakeem nodded and rested his weight on his sword as he leaned over him.

"You fought well," he told the assassin.

"You fought like a daimôn," the dying man acknowledged.

"Death almost touched me, I missed the other lookout." Hakeem said.

"Yes, we almost had you, but for your little girl. Who would have thought it? She's a treasure. What are your names, so I may know?"

"She's my daughter, Jacinta, and my name is Hakeem," Hakeem replied.

"The Hakeem? … Ah, then there is no shame."

"No shame," Hakeem agreed.

Elena had crept up to join them, wrapped in Hakeem's cloak against her nakedness. She looked at the barbarian talking to the dying assassin with a profound sense of unreality. It was as if they were talking over a pot of tea, talking of old battles, or some game just played.

It was all so bizarre, and what did it mean that the assassin knew the barbarian's name?

"Are you ready?" Hakeem asked formally. The injured man smiled his thanks, and nodded, closing his eyes.

Hakeem brought his sword up, and with a huge convulsive movement, pushed Mir deep into the man's heart. Elena gasped at the abrupt brutality of it. Then it came to her, the blow was struck in kindness.

Hakeem then painfully limped up to the boy, barely 16. "I don't want to die!" the boy gasped.

There was an arrow in his lung and red blood bubbles were coming from the wound, blood trickled from his mouth when he coughed and panted.

He was pale and was going dusky blue on the lips and extremities.

What are you doing here? Hakeem wondered as he looked at him. Why was someone so young involved with assassins? Hakeem sat down next to him, held his hand and wiped his pale and sweaty face.

"No one dies. It's just a crossing over," he reassured the boy.

Elena's sense of unreality was growing. This barbarian spoke Elvish! Minutes before, these men were killing each other. The assassins were less than human. They deserved nothing but hatred and disgust. Yet this barbarian offered one of their wounded respect and kindness. And now in the middle of this wilderness he was giving spiritual comfort to another. She also had a bewildering glimpse at one of the enemy. Why he was barely older than a child, and he was so frightened.

Hakeem held the boy until he went, talking to him about survival beyond death, calming him and helping to face death bravely. He felt a surge of anger at whoever got the boy involved in this business. After the boy had gone, Hakeem pulled out the boy's dagger to stare sightlessly at it for a while.

The exertion had restarted Hakeem's leg bleeding. He was starting to feel cold and dizzy and couldn't stand, he dragged himself against a rock.

By this time, the elf princess had found her horse, and had quickly dressed. She brought something to attend to his leg. "Where are your men?" she asked, looking around.

"Aiolía," Hakeem whispered, feeling faint.

"No," she said as she sat and expertly unrolled tools and small packets from a leather pouch as she got ready to attend to him. "The men that helped you rescue me, where have they gone?"

She spoke slowly and carefully, as if to a simpleton.

Hakeem shook his head wearily and shrugged, "Just us."

"You don't expect me to believe..."

Suddenly it struck her! Eleven trained assassins and only one man!

As if reading her mind, Hakeem said "Jacinta killed one. It's their training: they are not as dangerous out in the open."

Since last night, Elena had been in the middle of a waking nightmare. She hadn't slept, she hadn't eaten, and she'd had nothing to drink before this barbarian arrived. She could hardly think clearly. She felt at the point of physical and emotional collapse. Now this experience was becoming increasingly surreal. Had she passed beyond the real world into a region populated by the insane?

Her companions were outnumbered six to one.

They were all dead.

This barbarian human rode in and fought eleven men, and he was trying to explain that it was easier than normal. Oh, of course, he had help from a little girl, that explained everything!

It occurred to her she was lucky to have this madman. A sane man wouldn't attempt to rescue her against such odds. She gave up trying to understand this madness and, with a mental shrug, concentrated on examining his leg.

The most popular arrows were of the Bodkin type, the ones with a sharp fine point. They were cheaper, flew better. They had more penetrating power with armour and wouldn't tangle in the quiver.

The broad-tipped arrows do more damage. They had a larger head and were harder to pull out of a wound. Hakeem was unfortunate to be hit by one of these. It had gone through his thigh but during the battle the head had sunk back into the wound. She tried moving it gently but it was firmly stuck.

If she tried to simply pull it straight out, the head was designed to come off inside. Then it would have to be dug out. She would have to push it through to break the head off and, then pull the shaft back the other way.

The Gypsy girl, Jacinta, was using the assassins' fire to boil water. Good, the girl was smart.

Hakeem watched as she widened the cuts in his trousers at the front and back to examine the wound. He saw she worked competently. Elves are known for their knowledge of remedies.

"I've got nothing for pain," she said. "I'm afraid, this will hurt."

"Can I watch you, then? My Lady, you are just so beautiful. I can hardly look anywhere else." He sounded like a small boy asking a favour.

Elena nodded, curtly, to the request. Sure, go ahead, if it makes you feel better!

He had just saved her life and almost got himself killed in the process. It felt strange to be watched by this man, but if that was the worst he demanded, well and good. She could put up with that. But the sight of her would help with the pain? Almost nothing you say should surprise me now, Elena thought. She was starting to wonder if she was imagining all this. Am I delirious, perhaps?

She wasn't prepared though, for how intimate it felt. She felt heat in her face, and it was hard to concentrate. Should she have agreed so readily? But it had seemed a small thing. What was the matter with her?

She shook herself mentally, and asked if he was ready. Then she lent all her weight on the arrow shaft and heaved. Nothing happened.

She felt the arrow caught and cautiously, very carefully pulled it back, twisting and rocking it back and forwards slightly to free it. Hakeem sucked a sharp breath in and gritted his teeth. It must have been hot agony. His face showed a flicker of the torment he must have felt. How could he show such little reaction?

Who or what are you?

The head was no longer caught. She nodded, satisfied, prepared to try again. Jacinta came up behind to lend her weight and Hakeem grabbed the shaft with his right hand. Elena counted in Greek and they all gave a great heave.

They did it. Hakeem hissed with pain and then he snapped the head off himself.

She smoothed it of splinters and then carefully pulled it out and threw it away. Hakeem was panting and looked almost grey. He was losing too much blood.

She had to stop the bleeding and quickly.

She undid his belt and urgently grabbed his pants to pull them down and ... he resisted, catching his pants with one hand.

What next, she wondered?

"Hakeem, neither you nor I have time for this!" she said urgently. "You've seen me naked and I have to stop the bleeding, now, or you will die." Hakeem nodded and let go. He leaned back tiredly.

Jacinta fetched a cloth to cover his groin and then hovered nearby, her face full of concern. Elena was focused on the wound, but she caught a brief glimpse of his manhood concealed behind his hand.

Well, he's got no cause for embarrassment there, intruded unwanted into her thoughts.

She expected to be repelled by physical closeness to this barbarian, instead her body was reacting very differently. No, she couldn't possibly be feeling that way towards him!

Buzzing around her head was the repeated thought, "he thinks I'm pretty."

She really must be losing her grip on sanity.

She forced herself to focus on the wound ... oozing, let's see … a stitch there. Now, release the tourniquet …Very good, no spurting blood with the pulse, it missed the main artery … Three deep stitches joining that piece of torn muscle … Good, dust with powder… close, now.

Hakeem had propped himself up to watch. He was obviously intrigued by the internal stitches and the powder, so she explained as she worked. "The stitches are specially made. I use gut for quick dissolving, that's for inside a wound. Sometimes I use sinew; it's stronger but is chancy with infection.

"I prefer specially treated silk to stitch up the skin," she continued as she worked. "Try to remove the outside stitches in a week or they work into the scar. The powder will help prevent infection and speed healing. It's very good. I was taught by my uncle and I learn every chance I get."

"Thank you, Princess Elena," he said gravely.

Again, she got the impression of a small child as the big warrior stared into her face.

She felt a flushed, her heart was racing, and she was breathing fast. Splendid timing, Elena thought, I'm feeling like a giddy house girl with her first boy. Very sensible, too! I'm the princess and he is a what? A soldier, sweaty and dirty and bloody from a battle.

Some queen I'll make!

Hakeem asked help to sit propped up and some water to drink. He looked tired, but better.

Jacinta crept up and being careful of his wound, curled up on his shoulder. The warrior must have adopted the Gypsy girl, Elena realised.

As she watched the love between them, she felt a powerful surge of envy. She longed for her own father to love her like the tribesman loved the girl.

"Are you alright?" Hakeem asked Jacinta and felt her small head nod against his chest. "I'm so proud of you, you know that?" He got another nod into his shoulder.

"It must have been awful," he continued. "I'm sorry I haven't been able to give you any time. I'm so sorry you had to see all this and I'm sorry to frighten you so much. Yet you kept your head and saved my life. You killed a man. Are you alright about that?"

Jacinta lifted her head to look at Hakeem in the face and then put her head back on his shoulder and nodded.

They sat there for some time. "Jacinta," Hakeem started. Jacinta lifted her head and looked into Hakeem's face. "Whatever, you do Jacinta, next time if I give you a direct order like that, please ignore it."

She knew he was joking, but he was rewarded by a contented smile and Jacinta snuggled deeper into his shoulder, her arms around his neck. Jacinta didn't feel like talking much, but simply murmured, "Gypsy women stick with their men."

He patted her shoulder, "I'm glad they do."

There were plenty of supplies at the camp and Elena began preparing barley broth and adding some of the preserved meat. She added dried herbs in a bowl ready for Hakeem and had bowls separate for her and the girl. She noticed with surprise her hands were shaking as she measured the herbs.

"Princess," Hakeem called to her, "you've had a horrible experience, much more than us. I had to attack when they were most distracted. That was the worst moment for you, but the only way I could fight so many. I'm very sorry you had to go through such a horror. Are you alright?"

A single tear ran down her cheek.

This man was gentle and considerate of others, and he was right. She saw her companions give their lives to protect her. All the violence, the death and her sense of guilt, the strong sense that she was unworthy of those giving their lives for her.

The worst part was the stark terror of being caught, frantically searching for a way to escape and the final despair and end of all hope. She had expected to die in torment.

When fighting broke out, she couldn't see what was happening. She thought the assassins were fighting to be the first to rape and humiliate her. Then this brutish, terrifying, stranger appeared, bending over her. She never dreamed she would be rescued.

She felt completely drained. She felt numb and cold, through to her very bones. She had trouble focusing her mind. She kept getting flashes of those that died: Djorn, the last time he looked at her, before he rushed to stall the assassins, Iona, throwing herself in front of a sword thrust and the dead boy of the assassins, whose body she and Jacinta had only just dragged away.

She was near the end of her strength, but had been taught not to show weakness. Her hands seemed to be trembling even more. She mutely bowed her head. No, she definitely was not alright!

Elena, to distract herself, asked Hakeem who had sent him to find her.

It was only a chance encounter!

Thinking the Elf Lands safe, he had taken a shortcut. What were the chances that they would meet in this isolated wilderness? She should be dead.

Hakeem explained to her how they had guessed who she was, and yes, he was a mercenary.

"I have to get home," Elena said urgently. "It's very important. I will give you a reward for rescuing me, and if you help me get home, you will become rich beyond your wildest dreams."

Hakeem nodded. "My lady, I thank you for the offer of payment but it is not necessary. I will escort you home and you are now under my protection."

"What?" Elena couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Did you not hear what I said? I said I can make you fabulously wealthy. Are you mad? You can't refuse payment!"

Hakeem smiled to be described as mad. He didn't expect this elf, from the royal court, to understand humans.

"Princess Elena, you are an elf princess. I am a Shantawi and I am sworn to King Helios. Firstly, as I am already employed, I cannot let you engage me.

"Secondly, it would be a very black day indeed when an elf princess in need has to pay a Shantawi, or one in service of King Helios, for help.

"Lastly, you are in trouble and danger. Even if it were only your maid, I would help all I can. If I would give help to your maid, how could you not expect me to help you?"

He paused and chuckled, "Don't worry, with these horses and what we can get from the assassins, Jacinta and I will be rich anyway. Even after we return what is owned by the elves."

Elena felt a flash of irritation. So, he would compare her to her maid. And a few horses, the human had no idea of real wealth.

Then she felt ashamed and confused: Iona hadn't hesitated to give her life for her.

To add to the sense of disorientation, she was sitting on the field of a battle with this desert barbarian, but he was nothing like she expected. He was refusing a reward for risking his life. He had rescued her and would continue to help her, for what?

Honour, she realised with shock.

She had heard of the Shantawi tribesmen, and their obsession with honour, but had never known what it meant. Her stepmother had taught her to look down on servants and humans. But her stepmother and the foolish, foppish nobles she surrounded herself with would know nothing of honour.

Children, when very small, don't question what adults tell them. Some of these beliefs become buried deep down and held into adulthood with the strength of natural law. They are never questioned. Now Elena found something about humans that she thought was a core truth was so obviously false.

She had suddenly awoken to a world where water flowed uphill, and fish could swim in the air. She had been the one who had been crazy all this time, and now she was having difficulty believing what was in front of her eyes.

"You don't understand," she went on, "I have a lot of money with me, more than you could dream of. I must get home as soon as possible. Take me through the northern mountain pass."

"Great Lady!" Hakeem almost wanted to shake her in alarm. "Never, ever, mention your money like that again. You are safe with Jacinta and me, but you are travelling in some very dangerous parts.

"As for going north, can you not see? You can't go that way. You haven't told me what's going on but whatever it is, it's exceptional. There is a very powerful group trying to kill you. They are wealthy and so well-informed that they could find you even in this wilderness.

"There is only one way to pass through the mountains with winter coming on. They know where we would have to go. We'd be easy to track in the snow. We'd never make it.

"We not only cannot go north, but we need to leave this region quickly and head in the direction they least expect. First, I will take you to some friends who will help. Then I will take you south, to the city of my childhood.

"On my honour, and on the honour of my people, once we are in Karsh we can arrange help without limit. Even if we have to raise the desert tribes to help you, it shall be done."

"So far away?" she asked in shock. "Are you a coward?"

It was out before she knew. What a stupid thing to say. She was appalled at herself, but couldn't take it back.

Jacinta rounded on her, her faced screwed up as she almost spat at her in outrage. "How dare you! He nearly died to save you! You fancy elves think you're better than us. You haven't even thanked him. Well, I'll tell you, there's no finer person than Hakeem. You think you're better, but you're wrong."

Hakeem gently hushed his daughter. "Jacinta! She's been through a lot."

"Oh!" Jacinta countered, "And what about me? I thought I'd lose you!" Jacinta, who had been so strong, collapsed sobbing. Hakeem clutched at his daughter and held her. She was so young and had been through so much.

Elena's self-loathing was intense. She sat frozen and two further tears ran down her cheeks. What's wrong with me?

"I thought I would die," she said, her voice was hollow. "I thought I would die horribly."

She had always been taught to despise humans as brutish. This fighter was certainly fearsome, but he was so gentle with the Gypsy girl, and in his treatment of her. He behaved nothing like she expected.

"I meant to thank you. I just can't find the words that could possibly say what you have done for me. I'm sorry, I couldn't believe anything would rescue me. I still don't believe it."

Hakeem replied gently. "You are in shock, and you are very tired. No apology is necessary for a small discourtesy. You are safe now." He sat hugging his distraught daughter.

"Please, you must help me. I have to get home soon," Elena begged him, sick to the heart. Getting home was all she could think of.

"Elena, look at us," Hakeem said gently. "I'm wounded. You are not a fighter and you're pregnant besides and I never wanted to bring my child into danger.

"These are professional killers. We only succeeded this time through luck and surprise. As I said, whoever is after you is powerful and is well informed. We must go into hiding and I must take you to people I can trust, and don't say we can hire men with the money you have. That's how your party got caught, was it not? You were waiting for friends and hirelings to join you, and assassins came instead."

How did he know this? Elena had been trained to underestimate humans: their courage, their intelligence, their honour, she felt dazed. She kept slipping back into her prejudice and Hakeem and Jacinta kept jerking her out of it.

Hakeem nodded as her reaction confirmed it. "There was an escort from your home city as well wasn't there?" he guessed shrewdly. "It was ambushed, wasn't it? Then your friends decided to take you themselves with whatever force they could raise.

"Princess, do you have any idea of the scale of what you are facing? Your enemies have been three steps ahead of you at all times. I think you had better tell us what's really going on," he finished grimly.

Elena hesitated, what would he do if he knew?

"Princess Elena," Hakeem added gently. "Think! If you don't trust us now, you never will. You have my word, whatever secret you have, is safe with me. I suggest it's not a secret to your enemies."

Elena bowed her head and nodded. "You're right. I don't even know who my enemies are," she said, fear and exhaustion in her voice.

She told him what she knew. Hakeem looked thoughtful. Jacinta peered out through a tangle of black hair, but listened intelligently. The Gypsy girl was being rapidly caught up in great events but she retained her Gypsy pragmatism. She took things as they came.

After Elena had finished, Hakeem gravely rubbed his beard. "Well, if you and your daughter are to re-establish some empire of the elves, the list of enemies you have is a very long one. Even if they don't believe the Prophecy, you would be a rallying point for the elves. The death of you and your child would demoralise the elves seriously. What are you to do, now that Djorn Grey has been killed?"

"I don't know," Elena said miserably. "I don't think it was supposed to happen, it's all wrong. I was supposed to be pregnant long before this. I am supposed to deliver in a few moons. I've got to get home."

"Can you tell me what the Prophecy says? It's easy to see if the Prophecy is either wrong or it's been misread," Hakeem concluded.

Elena was shocked that he would say such a thing. But Hakeem exuded practical competence. She found herself trusting the big tribesman. Djorn was a good man, but he was obviously out of his depth when Elena's escort failed to arrive.

"I don't know the part of it that gives the dates, that's very obscure. I can quote from the main part which is like a summary," she said. Then she started to tell the words in ancient Elvish followed line by line with the translation into Greek.

"Wait, "Hakeem stopped her. "I once met men who came from a land far to the north and west. They had the hair and eyes of elves, but they weren't elves. They were human, big men, dressed in furs, strong and had beards. Their tongue sounded something like the old version of Elvish."

Elena nodded. Elves did not like to admit to these people, as it confirmed the connection between elves and humans, as if there could be any real doubt. "Yes, that's where the elves originated. Not many humans know this."

Hakeem encouraged her to go on with the Elvish Prophecy:

"Age came unnoticed. Must that which has been so splendid, finally pass from the world?

The young are not ready, the old are fading.

Only through weakness can it again be strong. The magic lost, the great fallen, the mighty humbled, the eternal heart stilled. Dust choking our cities and wild dogs walking our streets.

After an age they will come.

The mark is on her, Dragon Queen, greatest and last of her line, born into the time of testing. The third comet comes at her birth.

Stranger yet is her daughter, brave little warrior. So wise and yet so young; her blood flows not from the land of the great tombs. The blind will not see, the deaf will not hear, wise fools will not understand. Her wisdom will awaken magic new and old. The family will bear witness to her becoming.

When hope fails, he comes; father and lover, the greatest among great warriors. The dark man in whom shines the great light. Dead blood of the dolphin flows still within. His sword is like no other, bearing ancient runes of power.

When that which was so strong is weakest, then it might last. As the enduring ends, then it might continue. That which can never be, must come to pass. The dolphin must fly and eagle swim. Love must unite the old and young.

Give your trust to the great betrayer. Seek help from the man who has died. Seek the strength of heart of the two women who love them beyond death itself.

Look for the mirror that reflects not, in the last; then the book that must never be read, in the eldest. Enter the locked room that is in no place and take its key.

The Eldest and the Youngest must unite to awaken the glory. Only then can they stand and not be washed away. Only then can the greatness begin again.

When the final time comes God's warrior must journey into the deepest, that terrible place, to find the weapons and armour that are made for the man who never was, nor ever will be and awaken that which lies within.

Only death will end the one of ancient evil but he will never be killed. He is the one that no one daimôn, no one living, no one dead, no one made or no one not made and no one of the races of men can possibly defeat."

When she had finished Hakeem looked dazed. " It is so long, and it could mean anything! … A dead man? How can he help?"

"The only dead men I've ever known aren't very active at all," Jacinta piped in, earning a glare from the elf. "And I don't know how much I would want to trust the great betrayer."

The girl was making a mockery of the Holy Prophecies!

"And entering a room that is nowhere with its key locked inside," Hakeem added shaking his head. "Why do they make it so obscure?"

Elena was shocked. "So the wrong people don't understand it."

"What about the right people being able to understand it?" Jacinta retorted.

"I admit that I don't understand it all, but I am no sage," Elena sniffed. "The wisest of the elves have long pondered these words."

Again, the elvish arrogance, Hakeem thought. If one were hired to be a wise man, it wouldn't do to say you didn't understand something.

He spoke slowly and earnestly. "Elena, a really wise person would admit he didn't understand those words, they are deliberately obscure.

"You tell me you are the one destined to be the last Queen of your house. How do you know that?"

Elena stood up, "I'm the living heir to the dragon line, when my father or stepmother dies, I will be the Queen." As she said the words, she felt the weight of her destiny. She was no longer the girl that began the journey. She realised the quality of the people who gave their lives so she could live. She had faced death.

Meeting Hakeem and Jacinta forced her to discard much of what she had been taught in the cloister of the Elvish Court. Her father didn't love her, but it didn't matter.

She would be Queen, the Queen of a people facing a time of great testing. She turned and showed him a small birthmark on her upper thigh. Even Hakeem had to admit, it looked like a tiny dragon taking flight.

He felt dizzy and flushed when the elf princess turned and lifted her dress to show him her beautiful thigh. It must be the loss of blood, he thought, his mouth hanging open in admiration and surprise.

Jacinta caught his look and scowled angrily at him.

Elena explained a different calendar was used back then, which she didn't understand, but she was born in the magical time between astrological ages, which is called "the end of days." A comet was in the sky at her birth.

In ancient Elvish, a child wasn't talked about as a daughter or son until they had taken their first few strong breaths and lived a day. Then they can be officially presented to family and friends. This occasion was called the 'becoming'. The time of her daughter's 'becoming' was specifically set by Elena's date of birth and wasn't in doubt.

"Well then, the time is right. You're the Mother," Hakeem continued, not trying to work out the complexity of royal elf succession. Though only one senior royal did the day-to-day ruling, they could have a King and Queen who were father and daughter or two kings and no Queen or even two Queens.

"How did they find out Djorn Grey had to be the father?"

"Who else could it be? He was the living heir to the Western Elves. He had direct lineage to the Kings of Old and their symbol was the dolphin.

"The Western Elves were the greatest of our people and he was the greatest amongst their descendants. He had dark hair which is unusual amongst us Eastern Elves. So our union was to produce a daughter who would unite the Eagle and the Dolphin branches of my people."

Hakeem shook his head. "But you're talking of a lineage thousands of years old. Surely there could be others. Tell me about the rest of the Prophecy."

The last and greatest wizard of the elves, not finding a worthy pupil and becoming infirm, hid several items of powerful magic. It was at a time of fading of elvish magic.

There was more happening to the elves but she would not discuss that part with humans. The elves were failing, and now were not far different from humans. The Prophecy promised a restoration, no one knew what "awaken the glory" meant, but all the elves hoped to get back some of what they had lost.

"What caused the loss of magic?" Jacinta asked.

"I don't know," Elena admitted glumly. "Not all is lost. We think it might be caused by the heavens. You won't know this, but the stars move in the heavens in cycles great and small."

Changes in the heavens and astrological ages. Jacinta couldn't imagine it.

No wonder the Prophecy was important to the elves. No wonder Elena was so desperate.

Djorn was dead and Elena's pregnancy came far too late. Her baby couldn't be born at the time for her 'becoming' in front of her family and still survive. If she went to the desert city, she would be travelling at the time predicted for the 'becoming' of her daughter. But none of it made sense. There were simply not enough elves left to restore their old empire.

"It sounds like hiding the most powerful items may have weakened the elves. If he foresaw this, why did he do it?" Hakeem asked.

"He had no choice," Elena replied "He explains it. He was getting old and he had no successor."

"That's not it," Jacinta interjected. "He wasn't talking about himself at all."

"Foolish chi…" Elena started but stopped.

It was as if she had been struck across the face.

She felt a cold feeling inside. Could it have been the elves that had become unworthy? Did Ǽlward intend the elves to fall? It was a ghastly thought.

All that suffering. She thought back on elf history. At first generous and wise, the Elder race came to fear the humans, and the elves were not as they were.

She thought back to the words again, what if the 'eldest' was all the elves, not just the remnants of the Western Elves? What if 'the youngest' was not Eastern Elves, but humans? Her father had always been strong in his support of humans.

It was almost too much to take in, and why had no one else thought of it till now? Becoming Queen, she always thought she would continue with what the ones before her were doing already, but the elves could not continue as they had.

The great union the Prophecy spoke of, might it be a union of humans and elves, but not as servant and master? It was a sobering thought. But as she thought of Hakeem and she thought of the elves, she knew it was the truth.

She had to challenge thousands of years of ingrained thought and habit. Elena had been through too much, had too many shocks. She couldn't think it all through. How could the small Gypsy girl see something like that so easily?

"You have given me something very deep to think on Jacinta, thank you, but now we have work to do."

Elena wouldn't allow Hakeem to move. She gave Hakeem and Jacinta more broth and helped Jacinta tidy the camp. Then the two girls attended to the horses and started to organise the supplies.

Out of habit, Elena started to give Jacinta a list of jobs. The young Gypsy curtly told her to do them herself! It was obvious that the young Gypsy girl was far from impressed with her, and Elena felt ashamed.

"Jacinta, please forgive me. Can we start again? Without you and Hakeem, I would have died in terrible torment. I owe you both so much."

Jacinta didn't like Elena, but what could she say to that?

She relaxed a little. "Hakeem's right. You have been through so much; you are still in shock and who can blame you? … But I thought I would lose him!" For a moment Jacinta became distressed again, thinking back, and tears came to her eyes.

"Maybe a royal elf like you wouldn't understand, but my whole family was killed and Hakeem is all I have left." She told the story of her own rescue, and the recent adoption.

Elena's heart went out to the young Gypsy girl, and she was filled with admiration for Hakeem. "He's wonderful. You must love him so much, " she whispered, captivated.

Then she realised she was just standing there, watching Jacinta work and shook herself mentally and asked Jacinta what she wanted her to do.

She found it hard going, and she was awkward at first, but even though she felt weary after all she had been through, it felt good doing the physical work of watering the horses, removing their tack and letting them run free.

Jacinta said they would have to come back for most of them later. There were an awful lot of horses, Elena realised.

Jacinta still felt furious with the selfish ingratitude and arrogance of this elf princess. She was shocked Hakeem seemed attracted to her. It was another good reason to hate her. But now she found Elena meekly following orders and being a pleasant companion. It seemed she was used to helping around, something Jacinta would never have expected of an elvish princess.

Jacinta gritted her teeth. She would much rather hate this stupid elf.

She assumed Elena, an elf princess, would view her and Hakeem with true elvish disdain. But Elena couldn't stop chatting about Hakeem, with a dreamy look on her face. He was so strong! He spoke Elvish! He was so brave! He seemed so kind! He knows so much!

Jacinta was becoming alarmed. Elena seemed just as taken with Hakeem as he was with her. It was Hakeem this, and Hakeem that.

"Keep away, keep well away, you nasty … elf, you," Jacinta thought grimly. She felt like growling at her, "Hakeem's mine!"

Elena found Jacinta a smart and delightful companion. Working with her and chatting together was soothing, after her awful experience. It never occurred to Elena that Jacinta felt jealous of her, she was too distracted by thoughts of someone else, someone who lay nearby.

She was amazed to hear the details of her rescue. He charged down the slope AFTER he was shot by an arrow and pinned to his saddle. Elena was speechless.

He had covered her nakedness, and offered her water. When she thought back on it, he was so embarrassed that she was naked. He was so sweet. He was so honourable.

She felt like running to Hakeem and kissing him in gratitude. This was definitely not a good idea, even if he weren't so badly wounded. Her mood around Hakeem just then was far too dangerous. She may not be able to control what she did after that!

She giggled, it was not what he would do to her, it was what she might do to him.

"You know he will want to take the first watch," Jacinta murmured. Elena nodded and smiled in understanding.

The two kept their bows and quivers to hand as they re-joined Hakeem. He was resting with his bow on his lap. He had had more broth and water and was looking better. Everything was as ready as they were going to get it.

It would be an early night. Elena gave her patient something to drink which he humbly took without questions. After a little while, Hakeem announced he was sufficiently rested and would take the first watch.

Jacinta simply smiled at him. She had her coat wrapped around her and had lifted up her bow and quiver. As she started to move to the shadows she said, "I'm taking the first watch, father."

Hakeem noticed he was feeling sleepy. He suspected some sort of conspiracy between the two 'women'.

He looked at Elena who smiled at him sweetly, her head slightly tilted as if enquiring what he was about to ask. All he could think was how lovely she looked, and how much he loved her smile. He couldn't help but smile back. The last thing he remembered was smiling at Elena and her smiling back.

* * *

By the morning, Hakeem was amazed at how good his leg felt. He was in a lot of pain and it was stiff and weak but he should have been in agony.

There had been a lot of tissue damage, due to the type of arrow and the abuse he had subjected his leg to. Infection should have started, which could lead to a loss of the leg or even death. At best it should be a slow recovery, if it didn't finish him as a fighter. This was one area of elf magic that apparently hadn't been lost.

Elena cautioned him to be very gentle with his leg for many moons, until it was fully knit. In truth it was a surprise to her as well. She insisted on bandaging it before he put his trousers on, much to Hakeem's obvious embarrassment and her amusement.

This day, they faced the melancholy task of removing the personal effects from the dead elves, for return to their families. They also removed the remaining money, jewellery and weapons from the dead assassins. It made an impressive haul. Hakeem and Jacinta would have an enviable collection of the rare assassin's knives.

Hakeem was amazed at Djorn's ring and spent some time examining it before putting it away again. Elwan had one that was identical to it which Hakeem had left with Myriani.

Elwan had said he was related to elf nobility, was Djorn a cousin?

Elena was morose. She looked sadly at the faces of those who had died for her. They had loved and valued her and what did it bring them? Hakeem and Jacinta were worried about her mood. Would all she had been through affect her pregnancy? Hakeem wished he didn't have to rely on her and Jacinta to do his work.

It was beyond the three of them to give the elves a decent burial. Using two saplings, tent cloth and rope Hakeem rigged a 'travois' (sled) behind one of the smaller horses which allowed the girls to drag the dead into the shelter of large rock. Then they piled stones and branches over them.

After abusing his leg in the fight, Hakeem was not foolish enough to strain it any further. He helped as much as he could, limping around very gingerly, using a stick for support.

He would have liked to do something for the assassins but one look at Elena's face silenced him. Now, looking at an exhausted girl and the pregnant woman, he realised how foolish he was.

They redistributed the load between the horses they would take, the rest they would have to send for. No one was keen to spend another night at the scene of the attack, so they made their way back to the cave. After there, Hakeem would make for the chapterhouse, but Elena hadn't given up on going through the pass.

"I can't see how there can be any more trouble now these men are dead. We could get through the pass before the snow gets heavy," she started.

"Let me get this right," Hakeem said patiently. "You say you didn't expect trouble until the escort sent by your father was slaughtered with only one survivor, a group of thirty elves well-armed, well trained and ready for trouble.

"You move on with a group of forest elves, who are surprised and cut down in their very own forest. Whatever force they had gathered was ambushed and never arrived to join them. That means there is at least one other very large and lethal group of armed men out there but more likely several.

"You are betrayed by a group who must be elves. Someone seems to know your every move and you say you don't expect further trouble." Hakeem paused, "Look at us, Elena: a seriously wounded warrior, a small girl and a young pregnant woman unused to hardship. You want to travel a lonely and dangerous pass with winter coming on, against a force or forces that have wiped out three armed and wary groups of elves.

"Can't you trust me? I know about these things, it is what I do. If you want to live and deliver that child, you have to run away, not gallop towards danger. Believe me when I say that you won't get through that pass alive, even with a large force.

"I'll get you home. It might not be before the birth, but at least you and your child will be alive. It is better to arrive late than never arriving at all."

Elena looked at him in horror, "Late? You can't mean that! You don't understand. The Prophecy cannot fail. Better I were dead, than to return a failure."

Hakeem simply restated, "Elena, please trust me, I really know what I'm doing."

But Elena was terrified to arrive late. If she left it later, she would be heavy with child and completely at the mercy of these humans.

Then there was the problem with the dates. The recognition of her daughter by her family was already scheduled for a certain date. The baby wouldn't be near ready to be born before then. Now she would still be travelling and not even near her home.

What did it mean?

Had the Prophecy already failed? Had so many died for nothing? Was hope gone already? She felt sick to the depth of her heart. She only wanted to get home.

Her head and heart said she could trust these two with her life. But they didn't understand.

Why wouldn't Hakeem agree to take money, curse him! She would feel more in control. Jacinta warned her not to offer payment again, that would be seen as very rude to a Shantawi. What sort of crazy mercenary had she fallen in with? One who it was offensive to offer money to, that was the type.

Elena wanted to cling to this strong and competent pair. The thought of going on alone was terrifying, but she needed to be brave. She was an elf princess!

* * *

They were travelling slowly and the trip from the cave would now take more than a day but when Hakeem woke the next morning he realised he hadn't had a normal sleep.

He woke up with a strange languid feeling and the sun was already up.

Jacinta was making breakfast. She looked half asleep, her hair and clothes rumpled. "She's gone," she said simply. "She must have put something in the broth last night. She took one of the bows, two of the horses and some supplies. Stupid arrogant elf!"

"She is very foolish," Hakeem agreed mildly. He was using that tone again.

Jacinta stared at the fire. "She's terrified her stupid Prophecy is going to fail. The stupid cursed thing. It doesn't make any sense at all."

"It must be hard to have all your friends killed and to be driven mad thinking you have failed your whole race," Hakeem replied.

Jacinta sighed deeply. "She is stupid and arrogant, but leaving us was one of the bravest things ever. Someone has to go after her, Hakeem."

Hakeem nodded, but he wasn't up to riding a horse into the mountains. The only thing he could do was to press on to the chapterhouse.

 

Chapter 17: Desperation, and a Dying Elf

Hakeem and Jacinta hadn't gone far, when they came across a dozen monks riding, fully kitted for battle.

They had heard already heard about a large party of well-armed Eastern Elves that had been massacred. They took news of the death of Djorn, his sons and all those elves very badly. It was a terrible loss for the chapter house and the nearby elvish settlements.

Hakeem told them about an elf noblewoman who had been with them who now had escaped from them and was heading for the winter path to Elgard. There was no mention of 'princess' Jacinta noticed.

The monks fetched a wagon and helped Hakeem back to the chapterhouse. The healer there was astounded at how good Hakeem's leg was doing after all the abuse it had suffered. He re-bandaged it, but warned against further riding for a moon and half at least.

Omar was very grave, when he heard all the news, including the mention of the Princess.

Hakeem was surprised he included Jacinta in the meeting.

"Djorn the Grey, " Omar said, "his sons, and all the others. It will take a long time for this region to recover from such a loss. The princess, I have heard, is an empty-headed fool. This is how she throws away what good people have died for."

Hakeem felt he had to defend her. "She's not nearly as bad as they say. She worked just the same as us and she did an expert job getting the arrow out and sewing up my leg. She's saved my leg, if not my life. She's been to hell and back and she didn't fall apart. She's been driven half-crazy by the Prophecy. I think she feels it has failed with Djorn's death."

Omar knew about the Prophecy. He was very interested in Jacinta's idea that the Prophecy predicted a union of elves and humans. It was no surprise that the elves wouldn't think of this.

But then he said something that almost made Hakeem's heart stop.

"They are looking for her, Hakeem. They are looking for her all over. Elena and the baby she carries have many enemies, humans and some powerful elves. Who they are exactly, I don't know yet but there are several parties out there searching for her."

Hakeem was very slowly limping back and forward. He stopped. "Can I use one of the wagons?"

"I'll send three of my monks with you as well, any more would only attract attention. If you find her, bring her to Myriani's village, I'll meet you there with Daniel and Jacinta. In the meantime, I'll arrange for the bodies and personal effects to be returned to the elves so their families can arrange a proper burial.

"I won't use your name. We don't know who to trust. I don't see how any of the monks could be involved, but the less they know about this, the less they can give anything away." He paused. "I will hide most of the knives, they are too obvious. We will sell the other horses and weapons far away, to set up a false trail. Leave a part of your money and valuables with the order. We'll look after them for you and Jacinta till you need it."

He turned to the Gypsy girl, "Jacinta, you are already a Shayvist. With your permission, I'd like to confirm you as a student of our order. We don't have many female monks, but I know you will be worthy. You will continue to train with Hakeem, but if anything happens to him, you must come to the nearest chapterhouse. If you have any doubts about what it's like, you can ask Daniel."

Jacinta looked stricken. As far as a commitment to the Shayvist order, Jacinta had no doubts. She wanted to join, but she was being asked to make preparations for her father's death.

She looked to Hakeem for guidance but he had turned slightly away, his face was expressionless.

She nodded slowly. "Thank you, Father. I'd like that very much."

Hakeem exhaled softly. He had been holding his breath.

"I'll take your vows tomorrow," Omar continued, " Hakeem will have left by then but I'll record Hakeem's sponsorship and will formally accept it so there can be no question of you, a girl, joining the order. It's not a long ceremony, but there is a celebration attached.

"Welcome to our family, Jacinta."

"Thank you, Father Abbot," Jacinta replied politely, looking a little happier.

"I'll leave at first light, so I'll say my goodbyes now," Hakeem announced.

He turned to Jacinta, "As for you, congratulations. You don't know how glad it makes me feel. The order is my family, and now it is yours. I am very proud of you. I'll take father's privilege and come and tuck you in, young lady! I won't be long, off you go."

Jacinta kissed him on the cheek and left.

When Jacinta had gone, Hakeem turned to his friend. "You mentioned Daniel," he said simply.

"Yes, if you'll have both of us," the abbot replied. "I want to continue training Daniel and Jacinta together, they are a good match. I also have a pressing need now to take him to Karsh, so we'll travel together."

"I'm glad to have you with us, but is it wise?" Hakeem looked apprehensive. "I'm going mad with the worry of taking Jacinta into danger. She's already seen things she shouldn't have. She's still short of twelve, and was forced to kill a man. I have given my oath not to leave her, but should we be risking a second child?"

"You, no we, have a remarkable daughter there. She seems to have gotten over whatever horror she's faced. She's very brave in sending you off almost immediately. I expected her to say something against it.

"I haven't explained this to anyone else yet but Daniel's talent is truly remarkable. It is why I need to get him to Karsh as soon as possible."

Hakeem was astonished. "That good?"

Omar nodded slowly and seriously. "Yes, Daniel is that good. I need to ask the Grand Abbot Maluch to see him. I tried Daniel in the water and the sand ran out."

Hakeem head jerked up in surprise. Some deep meditation masters, in a trance like state, can endure being submerged in water. The sand in the timer is set for safety, at eight minutes.

"It was me who stopped the immersion, because I became alarmed." Omar continued. "He wasn't even breathless. He didn't seem to know how long he had been there and for the moment, I haven't told him. The contact with you and Jacinta helped him fight the darkness within himself, but it also seems to have unlocked something outstanding.

"I think he is destined to become an important member of our religious. Such a talent! But why has it come at this time? It seems everything is happening at once.

"Just get her back, Hakeem. Whoever is after the Princess can easily deal with an armed party. We would need something the size of an army to really keep her safe and we don't have that, not until we can get to Karsh. We will take her in a small party, disguised as a family. It's the only way.

"And as far as danger to Daniel, I've talked to him. It's my responsibility but sometimes the young can't be protected. I think whatever is coming, will come for all of us."

He turned to face Hakeem. "The time will come when nowhere will be safe, and no one will be safe."

Hakeem felt a shiver. He knew what was frightening his friend. So many dead already, and it hadn't even started. His meeting with Elena, which seemed a wild chance, was no accident. Whatever was coming would also come for the elves.

Somehow the beautiful elf princess and he were at the centre of a gathering storm. They would bring danger to all who were around them. What was it, and how did it involve the ancient Elvish Prophecy?

He needed to find Elena and get her to Karsh. He could have tried for Aiolía or Troia but whoever was looking for her would expect something like that. He wondered, would he see Aiolía or Troia again?

The two men sat in silence, and then Hakeem went to spend time with his daughter. He wanted to make any time he had with her count. He found her waiting for him, sitting on her bed.

"Are you alright, Jacinta?" he asked.

The Gypsy girl nodded, looking solemn.

"I thought you wouldn't want me to go," Hakeem said.

Jacinta smiled sadly. "Of course, I don't, especially wounded like you are. But that's no good. It is what you are. I love you and am proud of you.

"Don't you worry about me, I'm safe here and amongst friends. I have the faith you have taught me. I am the daughter of a paladin. I know how to be brave, father."

She smiled a bit, "At least you're not easy to kill. Anyone who thinks you are is in for a nasty surprise." A single tear ran down her cheek at that and she hugged him as tight as she could. "Just come back for me, father," she whispered.

Jacinta couldn't hide how frightened she was. Would it always be this way for her when her father put himself in danger?

Hakeem felt a great surge of love for her. This wasn't what he expected, from the young girl. Especially after all she had been through and she wasn't even twelve yet.

"I am blessed to have a daughter like you, Jacinta. You know I love you very much. I won't say there won't be danger, but it should be less. If her enemies have found the Princess, she is dead already and there will be four of us this time.

"As you say, I'm not easy to kill. If they want me to, I'll show them that to them. I'll meet you at Myriani's farm." Jacinta nodded. "If we can find the Princess, Daniel and Father Omar will journey with us to Karsh. We will travel disguised as a family and smuggle the Elf Princess away with us."

"Her? You're going to bring her with us?" Jacinta almost spat in disgust. "Haven't you done enough for that elf? She is so arrogant and stupid! You rescue her and what does she do? Why she heads straight back into danger like a moth to a flame.

"She has cost so many lives already. Why should we keep rescuing her? Get her to travel with someone else. She's a royal elf, she can get someone else to take her!"

Hakeem felt a little amused. Despite her age and peasant background, he knew that Jacinta would be more than a match for the royal elf, if need be. Jacinta versus the royal elf could make this a memorable trip indeed but had Jacinta forgotten the lesson she learned with Daniel? Perhaps fate decreed that Jacinta would now get a chance to deal with another haughty elf.

Hakeem really doubted Elena was as haughty as she first appeared. The life of the elf princess had not been as wonderful as most thought, he suspected.

Instead he said softly, "her escort of Eastern Elves was slaughtered. I don't even know if the Eastern Elves know to send another escort. Djorn the Grey's group of elves has been decimated. Perhaps we should let her travel by herself."

Jacinta's opened her mouth in shock at his suggestion. She closed it with a snap. That would be a death sentence. Her shoulders slumped, but she still glared at her father and then she sighed.

"You're in love with her, aren't you, father?" she said softly.

Ho! So that is it! Hakeem thought.

"Jacinta, she is an elf princess, for the sake of the hundred Gods." He chuckled a little. "The two of us have no future together, none whatsoever."

Jacinta gave in with ill grace. Hakeem hadn't denied being in love with the elf, but at least Jacinta wouldn't have the 'elvish stepmother from Hell'.

Hakeem and Jacinta sat talking a little while longer. Jacinta gave him a fierce hug just before he left. He was about to stand up but realised Jacinta was still hanging on. He waited, and then she let him go. He kissed her good night and tucked her in.

Jacinta lay for some time. She was unable to sleep, thinking of Elena. She hated the idea of having to travel with the elf, and she hated seeing the attraction between her and Hakeem. He said it wouldn't come to anything. Well it better not! She clenched her jaw at the thought.

Then she thought how difficult Daniel was at first and how Hakeem said Elwan wasn't easy when he first met him.

What did people see that was so great with these elves? Then she thought of Myriani and Kassandra. There was a certain something that was very special about elves. She wasn't sure what it was. How they moved, how they talked, how they lived so close to the natural world, their music and their wonderful singing.

They said the elves of old were even more wonderful. What was happening to them? Was it continuing? No wonder the Elvish Prophecy was so important to them.

Jacinta also knew she wasn't being fair to Elena. She was a skilled healer, that had to be unusual in a royal elf. And when they were working on the horses, she wasn't at all unpleasant, and she did apologize and seemed to mean it. The elf could hardly be expected to be at her best after what she went through.

She really hadn't tried to endanger Hakeem going off on her own. That was an incredibly brave, if foolish thing to do. It was that stupid Prophecy driving the poor woman mad.

She most definitely didn't want Elena to die but if she didn't like her, why did she feel so terribly frightened for her? She sighed, was she destined to be continually plagued by these pesky elves? Why me? That thought made her giggle a little.

After that she managed some sleep.

* * *

Mikha'el (Michael) came out of the tavern and walked over to where Hakeem and the other two monks waited. They had left the wagon hidden and were wearing local clothing.

Michael talked softly so only the other three could hear, his breath steaming in the chill air. As far as they could tell, they were alone and no one was watching them.

"Well, good news and bad news, I'm afraid." Michael said. "The good news is that she was here, and left only two days ago. So we aren't too far behind. She was making it obvious she carried a lot of money; probably not even aware she was doing it. She hired a group of small-time thieves, fortunately not the worst group, nor one of the others asking around for her.

"Whatever's happened has happened already. There's a very good chance they have simply taken her out into the wilderness and left her there. Most locals would be superstitious of killing an important elf, outright. The question is where?

"The band she left with hasn't shown up. I'm hoping they've gone to ground somewhere. There are some very nasty customers who are asking after them now."

There was nothing for it. Michael and Hakeem went together in the worst and most likely direction.

The two others split up to check out the other two less likely ways.

* * *

One of the items of elf magic that had been found in secret, in 'the last' (the last great elf city, Elgard).

It was the mirror of far seeing.

Elena's every move was being watched from afar and it had helped trap her. Now something happened again to darken the vision.

"It's happened again!" the young elf lord said in frustration. "I've lost sight of her again. Last time, I thought she would die. This time the bitch is dying, I'm sure of it!"

* * *

Elena had lost the feeling in her feet some time ago. She had lost a lot of blood but was starting to feel warm and sleepy.

She knew that was a bad sign.

They had taken everything, even her coat but hadn't otherwise touched her. They were, if anything, apologetic. They were sorry. It was just too much money.

They could have it all without taking the risk of trying to get her to Elgard.

She had huddled, shivering, in a small cave last night and then she decided to walk out. No one knew where she was, and there was no one to search for her.

She had sucked on some snow for her parched throat but it robbed her of the last of her warmth.

She saw two men, walking along the trail. Their eyes were cast down. Was it the robbers coming back? She didn't have anything more to take. One looked to be a big man. He was limping. He seemed vaguely familiar, but her mind wasn't working well.

Suddenly he was running awkwardly in the snow towards her.

She felt herself swept up like a small child in his strong arms.

"Oh, Hakeem," she cried out in despair. "I lost my baby."

* * *

Hakeem sat with Elena while Michael brought the wagon. One of the other monks had already found Elena's thieves, all of them dead. There was no sign of any money.

They dragged pine branches to disguise their tracks but at least wagons in this country, at this time, weren't unusual. They wanted to go cautiously, keeping to back roads but they had the worry of the elf princess who was gravely ill. She had lost a lot of blood from her miscarriage, and was feverish. Her chest made rattly noises as she breathed. Hakeem wrapped her in blankets and sponged her face but he could hardly make her drink!

After half the turn of a glass, it was obvious that time, for her, was running out.

She hadn't said anything coherent, except about losing the baby and she had lapsed into deeper into unconsciousness, alternately burning and drenched in sweat. She had given up on her will to live. Her mission had failed.

She was starting to fade.

Hakeem called for their driver to abandon all caution and make for Myriani's house as fast as they could go. He desperately he prayed that someone at there would know what to do.

By the time they got to Myriani's place, her breathing was irregular and she was starting to look bluish on the lips. There was a blur of faces as he carried her inside. An old lady from the village came, but took a cursory look and left, shaking her head and muttering.

Hakeem was hardly aware of who came and went, as he tried to nurse the dying elf. He was in love with her.

He looked up through his tears to see Omar and Jacinta standing in the doorway of the small room. All he could smell was the stink of dying.

"I don't know what to do!" he said through his tears. "She's dying. Somebody please help me!"

"You are a paladin," Omar told him. "You have the power of Apollōn, the God of healing."

"But I don't know how to use it! How can I?" Hakeem was desperate, and sobbing.

Jacinta was moved with pity as she looked down on the dying elf. "Listen to me, Father." She said intently, trying to get through to him. "If anyone can do it, you can. Don't use your head to talk to God, use your heart."

Of course! Hakeem realised Jacinta was right. How could he forget? If God would grant this, it didn't require a complicated ritual.

They closed the door and ensured they wouldn't be disturbed, no one else must know what was going on. They prayed briefly.

Elena was all but gone, there was very little time. Hakeem sat on the end of the bed, he drew his great sword and rested it on the floor, bowed his head and concentrated.

* * *

In the far distance, there was a faint voice calling her. It was too faint and too far away.

I have to leave! Elena thought, I have failed.

Then she felt something of awesome power and love surrounding her, a great light at the end of a long tunnel. With all her heart she wanted to go there but something was gently pressing her back. Something was telling her it wasn’t her time.

Then she sensed Hakeem, or was he there all the time? For an instant they merged and she was awed by what she saw. But what had she come across at first, and why was Hakeem here?

* * *

Hakeem felt himself spiralling down and down. There! The after-birth had not come away cleanly and there was infection in her womb. It was streaming into her blood, it was throughout her whole body now and had filled her lungs with infection and fluid. Her body was losing the fight.

He patiently worked, concentrating intently.

He moved from the womb to the lungs and slowly the disease cleared. Deep in his trance state, Hakeem felt like laughing for joy.

He could do it! Without him knowing, his eyes were streaming with tears.

But as he possessed and cleansed her body, his heart lay open to her. She didn't know how, but she saw that he was in love with her.

Eventually Hakeem paused, and gazed down into the beautiful elf's face. Before he realised what was happening, she opened her eyes, reached up to grab his neck and kiss him on the lips. He didn't want to break away. He had thought he'd lost her.

Elena said, "Someone or something sent me back. I dreamed of you Hakeem. It was wonderful." Eventually he lowered her arms for her and kissed each of her hands.

"Well," said Omar.

"That worked out rather well!" he said mildly. "Now, none of us can say anything about this, we have more than enough problems as it is. We will have to say we simply prayed to God and he answered our prayers."

Elena's astounding recovery couldn't be kept a secret from Myriani and Kassandra, but they agreed to not ask too many questions or say anything. They suspected Omar of something miraculous. They variously tried to subtly pump Jacinta, Hakeem and even Elena for information. For Elena it was easiest, she didn't know what happened. All she knew was that Hakeem loved her!

 

Chapter 18: Hakeem's Lady, and a Reluctant Ally

Elena was very weak and needed to sleep most of the time. She felt no urgency about returning to Elgard. In fact, the prospect of facing the Royal Court filled her with dread. She only wished her father had not confirmed her as the future Queen.

At first, she was left feeling morose, but slowly she was able to emerge from her dark mood. The new friendship with Jacinta helped, and she began to get caught up in the excitement of Kassie's wedding.

No one was allowed to know who she was, so there was no-one to treat her differently, no one to address her as "princess." They called her Martha, Aramaic for 'lady'. No elves had Aramaic names. Whose stupid idea would that be? Hakeem's of course!

She was surprised at how much she liked being just another elf maiden, she liked it a lot.

Myriani mothered the frail elf. Elena would have loved to have a mother like Myriani. She saw the easy, loving relationship of Myriani and Kassie. It was a form of richness that she had never had.

She started to enjoy the relaxed gossiping and fun, as the women fussed about their chores. She would have liked to help, but even staying awake was a struggle. Jacinta didn't have a lot of chores and the others were busy getting ready for the wedding, so Jacinta was the one who kept a vigil by the elf's side.

Jacinta had a good heart and she couldn't help but feel sorry for the elf princess, hardly more than a girl herself. Jacinta saw her almost die. Her mission had failed and she had lost her baby, she was so weak, and so sad.

Jacinta could hardly recognise her as the cold and haughty elf princess she first met. It was as if all Elena's defences had crumbled and been swept away. The young elf seemed so vulnerable, emotionally and physically. Small kindnesses would reduce her to tears.

She was so weak and seemed almost pathetically keen to be liked. She didn't push herself forward, was content to just sit with the other women and listen. If asked, she would shyly make suggestions but was a gold mine of wonderful suggestions for elf parties.

What Elena didn't know was that Jacinta's head was in a whorl of confusion. To ask the eleven-year-old Gypsy girl (despite whatever training she had) to be fair to someone who had come out of nowhere to compete for her father's love was asking too much.

At first Jacinta was shocked, jealous and disgusted. The father she idealised was making a complete fool of himself. What had got into the man? Couldn't he see what she was like?

Now she realised it was her, not Hakeem, who had made a mistake about Elena. She found she couldn't help but like Elena, but why couldn't Elena forget about Hakeem for the sake of all the Gods? That would be much simpler.

She kept going on and on about how wonderful Hakeem was, without seeming to be aware she was doing so. Jacinta no longer thought about marrying Hakeem, but he was still hers! Would he have time for her if he fell in love?

Myriani and Kassie had been delighted that Hakeem had found such a lovely lady. They had been ready to match-make if they had to. They knew 'Martha' wasn't all she seemed, and suspected from her manners she was high born, but she didn't act at all superior. If they knew who she really was, they would have apoplexy.

She was so obviously in love with Hakeem, from her behaviour and shy comments. But what was wrong with Hakeem now? He seemed to be going out of his way to avoid her.

Eventually Myriani and Kassandra decided to bring Jacinta into a ladies' conspiracy, to find out why he was acting so strangely.

Elena was sitting propped up with pillows. Jacinta was forced to grudgingly admit just how beautiful she looked, with her fair skin and her silky blond hair. She was improving and was able to walk a few paces, but she still got so tired. Elves are pale at the best of times but her illness and recovering from anaemia certainly didn't help.

Myriani was now explaining the situation to Jacinta, as if she couldn't see for herself.

"So, we want you to see what the problem is, and why Hakeem is staying away."

"Oh, could you, Jacinta?" Elena's eyes were moist with gratitude. "You have been so kind to me."

Jacinta felt like snarling at her.

Instead, she replied, as if uncertain, "It feels a little like spying." She said, considering. "I would never, ever, want to do anything at all underhanded to my father."

Elena looked crestfallen. "Of course not, I understand." But tears started to run freely down her cheeks and she bowed her head.

Jacinta felt her arm suddenly clamped as if by a wood vice!

Now it was as if someone was turning the handle, making it tighter and tighter.

She turned her head to see Kassandra smiling in a predatory way at her. Kassandra, the farm girl had an amazingly strong grip.

Jacinta was sure her arm would be injured.

"Could you excuse us a little while?" Kassandra announced casually to the others. She was acting as if nothing was happening, as she meaningfully increased the pressure on Jacinta's arm. "I want Jacinta's help with something for a moment."

Jacinta was sure she would be left with finger-shaped bruises.

Kassandra kept a firm grip on her as she marched her into the kitchen and out the back door. Then she spun her around, gripping her by the shoulders and standing over her, looking very angry.

"Are you still going on about wanting to marry your father?" she growled, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"No, of course not!" Jacinta countered flushed. She felt panicky under the elf's angry glare.

"Don't you love your father?" Kassandra asked coldly.

What sort of question was that?

"Of course, I do!" Jacinta retorted, feeling distressed.

"So why don't you want to see him happy? You know he loves Martha or whatever her name is and she obviously loves him. Stand there and tell me she's not nice."

Jacinta bowed her head in shame, Elena was too nice. That was making it all harder.

"Perhaps you are too selfish, to share your father's love," Kassandra continued. "That would mean he never finds himself a woman while he has you. Is that what you want, Jacinta?"

It felt like a dagger was being plunged into Jacinta's heart.

"I'm sorry," she said, starting to cry helplessly. "Hakeem is all I've got. I couldn't bear to lose him."

She felt Kassandra gathering her up in her arms.

"Of course, meli (honey), don't you think I don't understand that?" She said, gently stroking Jacinta's hair away from her face. "You must trust the Goddess. If you share love, it grows. If you don't it dies. I've had time to get to know Martha. I think you can share your love with her.

"Anyway, you don't want the big oaf wandering around like a useless lump for the rest of his life, now do you? Who takes charge of him if you get married? These sorts of things are too important to be left in the hands of men."

Jacinta had to laugh at the description of her father.

She nodded and dried her tears. After washing her face, she went in search of her father. She felt very determined now. The Hakeem she found was immersed in his own shame. He had taken advantage of the elf princess, when she was weak and vulnerable. He loved that kiss, but that was probably a side effect of the healing. He blushed furiously, explaining this to Jacinta, eyes downcast, playing with something in the dirt.

Jacinta tried to make reassuring comments, but Hakeem knew she was just trying to make him feel better. She was too young, she wouldn't understand.

And now Elena felt she loved him. He was just trading on her gratitude. She was a princess, by all the Gods, and he was what? An orphan and a mercenary. What a mess he had made of things.

Yes, he did love her, how dare he?

What an idiot Hakeem could be but Jacinta found she could do nothing to convince him.

It was not often that Jacinta was at a loss for words. How on earth could these two make something that was so straightforward, so complicated? She felt like hitting her father over the head with a rock. Completely defeated, she retreated to Elena's room to report on the problem, minus the 'princess' comment.

Elena let out a big sigh and settled back contentedly with a dreamy look on her face. A frown she was starting to bear disappeared.

Hakeem loved her!

"He said what?" demanded Kassie in complete outrage. "What an idiot. Does he think women are so weak-willed that they don't know their own minds? I have half a mind to march out there and tell him off, right now." She looked around for support, but Elena was hugging herself and whispering softly. "Hakeem loves me. He really does!" with a dreamy look on her face while her mother and Jacinta were looking amused.

Kassandra felt like smashing something, these two lovers were hopeless.

But Myriani had more experience with these things than her daughter. "All we have to do is to give Martha time undisturbed with Hakeem. Do you think you can take it from there?" She asked Elena. Elena nodded excitedly, chemistry would do the rest. Hakeem tended to go all mushy around 'Martha'. He wouldn't stand a chance.

The next morning Hakeem was sitting on a bench outside the front of the house. He was looking forward with pride to being the one to present Kassie. For the moment, he was passing some pleasant time observing the female of the species and trying to see if he could understand them.

A small girl, a little over three was twirling around in delight in her new dress. Women liked to be pretty, admired and loved, and they liked clothes, he realised. For boys it's more about being strong and brave and getting ready to be a man.

That nine-year-old girl really enjoyed minding the younger children, that made sense too. She would be a mother one day. There's Jacinta jiggling with excitement talking to the older girls. Boys do something very similar around grown men.

Then there's that sixteen-year-old flirting with the two older boys, she's really enjoying the attention. She's playing one against the other. Is she really interested in either? Then it struck him, she's enjoying practicing. It was a game she would soon have to play in earnest. Just as young men practice their own games.

Good luck to her, he smiled fondly to himself.

That young mother was talking to a friend about her new baby, that grandmother bragging about her grandchildren.

Old men brag about their families too but women are smarter about that somehow. Most men need to get old to gain that sort of wisdom.

A group of women passed, busy with their tasks and chatting. Why did women chat so much? Well it would hardly do for men to chat when they were on a hunt, or walking through enemy territory. He smiled at a thought of a group of soldiers chatting like women. Hang on, sometimes they do.

And women are so beautiful! When they are happy, women and children get that special 'glow' about them. It made men feel good just to see them happy. He loved watching women. Such delightful creatures!

Suddenly he felt a surge of fierce love for these folk, these common folk: women, children, men and boys all. He solemnly renewed his promise to himself. No matter what was coming, no matter what it would take: if he had to move heaven and earth itself, he would protect these people he loved. He would succeed. Anything else was unthinkable.

"Hello!" Hakeem was so absorbed in his thoughts that the sound of Elena's voice made him almost jump three feet into the air.

"Sorry, I didn't know I was so scary," Elena smiled.

"Oh no, my Princess!"

Well, maybe just a little!

"Maybe you don't like me. If you want, I can go away," Elena suggested.

Hakeem was thrown into a confusion of denials. It wasn't true! If he tried to hide his pleasure at seeing her, he would hurt her. He was mortified at the thought of hurting her. He looked around but no one was close enough to help.

"Please sit down. I would enjoy your company, really, " he admitted, his resistance crumbling. "How are you feeling?"

"If you hadn't stopped visiting me, you would know how I'm feeling. Am I so horrible you have been avoiding me?" Elena said. "But you wouldn't visit me, so I had to come in search of you. Well, I feel weak and dizzy, if you must know. Can I lean on your shoulder, please?

"Thanks, that's better. It would feel more comfortable if you put your arm around me, yes, that feels nice. I was starting to think that it was you that would need to be tied up, before I could catch up with you."

How could she joke about that awful experience? He thought. Well maybe that was a good thing, she was getting over it. Hold on, what was she saying about him? His mind was a swirl of confusion.

It felt so wonderful to lie there with her snuggled in his arms. Without even knowing he was doing it, he looked down and kissed her lovely face. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him on the lips.

She felt him tense a little, and said between gritted teeth "Hakeem don't you dare try to get up and go somewhere else."

He gave her a sheepish smile and relaxed back again. He couldn't help but gently stroke her lovely silky hair. Hakeem looked around for someone nearby. No one was around.

He didn't for a minute dream all the women were going the long way around, via the back door of the house to give them privacy.

Elena really was exhausted from struggling out to the veranda. She fell asleep in his strong arms. For Hakeem it was a wonderful feeling, and he sat cuddling the young elf but he looked at her face with concern. She was thin before, but now she looked sunken around the eyes.

Trying not to limp, he lifted her up and carried her gently back inside to her bed. As he lowered her down onto her bed, his face was inches from hers. He noticed she had woken and was looking up at him. She locked her arms around his neck.

"You're not going anywhere," she said firmly.

He obediently remained bent half over, and then sat on the edge of the bed with his neck still trapped within her arms. He couldn't take his eyes off her lovely face.

"I need to get these clothes off you," she said pushing his shirt open. "Oh my!" she exclaimed in appreciation as she saw the hair and muscles of his chest.

Hakeem shrieked loudly! "Elena! Your hands are freezing!"

Elena was giggling and shushing him, as she worked on his trousers. "Shush, that's not my name, remember? Here I'll warm them on this!" She lunged.

She could hardly contain herself as he gave an "Argh" through his gritted teeth and jumped up. He tried to stop his own helpless laughter. She looked so thoroughly desirable and full of mischief.

He started to pull at her dress. When he had it (and her underclothes) off, there was no mistaking his look of admiration, or his feelings.

"How are my breasts?" she asked anxiously.

"They're lovely, all of you. You look so perfect." Hakeem smiled, shaking his head in wonderment. He felt dizzy, drinking in the sight of her.

"Are they too small?" she hissed urgently. "They were worse before."

What was she asking, wondered Hakeem? Elena was tall and lanky, just like her elf forbears. He sat on the bed and looked down on her with a rapt smile on his face

"You are so beautiful the sight of you takes my breath away."

And she was: pale golden hair, so fine and silky, startling green eyes, and perfect milky skin with the faintest dusting of freckles. Her body was simply that of a thin young woman, she was perfect. He loved everything about her and couldn't imagine her any other way, well maybe a bit more muscle, even a strong elf doesn't show a lot of muscle.

He bent his head and stretched to kiss her on the lips. Then he started to make love to her very slowly, taking his time. As his lips snuggled her ear, she felt his beard tickle. As he kissed the base of her neck, she felt her body start to tingle and her shoulders want to shrug up.

She reached up to grip his shoulders.

He moved his lips along her collarbone, working his way slowly, kissing and teasing with his beard. His kisses slowly awakened her, she found herself yearning for the next touch of his lips. His hand started to move, first massaging and gently rubbing her right shoulder as he moved his mouth to her left shoulder, tickling with his beard again. She gasped as his hand on one side and his lips on the other simultaneously found her nipples.

"Hmmm," he said, smiling and resting his head on her chest, with her nipple in his mouth and working his tongue and lips to suckle. His hand was gently massaging her other breast and nipple and moving up and down her abdomen. Elena's nipples had become fully erect and she was tingling all over.

"I like them just fine!" he murmured, smiling. She giggled and gave him a playful tap on the back of his head.

He laughed and pushed her back, but he was gentle, so very gentle. He was considerate of her weakness, and also her pleasure. As he continued so very slowly, moving his hand lower and lower, teasing back and forward, she felt her body arching back. She couldn't contain the sensation. She felt she would explode.

Oh! She couldn't hang on much longer! And then Hakeem moved his body to cover her, there was a sharp pain and then a wonderful feeling of him inside …

* * *

Hakeem just lay there smiling, and looking into her face.

Elena felt absolutely wonderful. She felt so good about her body. He loves it, and he loves me. He finds me beautiful.

She felt like wrapping her legs around him to keep him inside forever, but she also felt sleepy and fulfilled. She could not remember ever feeling so happy.

Strange, here she wasn't a princess, and she had lost everything she believed in. She had almost died twice and yet in this village of peasants; she had found true friends. In the arms of this mercenary, what did Myriani say his rank was?

Captain, that was it. Her father commanded several legions in the field and she would too, one day.

In the arms of this wonderful man, she corrected herself; in the company of these wonderful people, she had found love. "What are we going to do?" Hakeem asked, thinking the same thing. She shushed him and started to kiss him on the chest. Don't think about the future she told herself, don't spoil this. Soon their passion was reignited. Then they let their bodies react and the love and pleasure took over once more.

When the two emerged, the party was about to start. It was one week before the wedding itself, and this was to 'introduce' Kassandra to the groom's family. In truth, they had known her since she was born. Hakeem thoroughly enjoyed his part in presenting the beaming Kassandra, to joyous applause.

Now Kassandra was formally promised to Ian, the ritual fire was started so she could burn the three objects from her childhood, a small rope doll, one of her childhood outfits, and a wooden toy. Hakeem and the other ‘parents’, Ian and Kassie had prescribed parts of the ceremony and there were lots of the wonderful elf hymns.

Hakeem cut a dignified figure but he had trouble not to keep glancing back at his elf lady.

His part finally done, he spent the rest of the party leaning back with Elena's head (she fell asleep again) on his shoulder. Everyone realised how ill Elena had been, so no one minded.

The elves who knew Hakeem and the story, kept stealing delighted glances at the couple. It was so romantic! He was seriously wounded and yet he went in search of her. She had almost died, but here they were and they were so in love.

Later Hakeem motioned to Jacinta, who was starting to look sleepy. He ended, propped against an embankment cuddling his two 'girls'. Elena woke briefly and fussed with the blanket, to make sure it covered the sleeping Gypsy girl, and then settled back with a contented sigh.

Hakeem wanted to fix this happiness in his mind. Nothing could feel better than this. He thought fondly of the old Grand Abbot. You wise old man, how could you see so much?

 

Chapter 19: The Wedding of Kassandra

For Elena, the next few days were the happiest of her life. It seemed that the further away from being a princess she was, the happier she found herself.

Jacinta had some lingering uncertainty about Elena. She seemed so nice, but could it be an act? Just two days before the wedding Jacinta accidentally came up behind Hakeem and Elena in the garden.

"You don't understand!" Elena was saying, tearfully. "I would really like to give her something for the wedding. But I've got nothing. I've even had to borrow clothes. They've been so nice to me, no you bought that. I wish I could give something just from me. I've never felt like this, if I could have kept one of my necklaces, but they left me nothing."

They had rescued very little of her possessions. They had some weapons she left behind when she 'fled' from Hakeem and Jacinta. It was true, she had nothing of value.

Jacinta heard Hakeem murmur something, then a squeal from the elf. "Oh Hakeem, that's beautiful. It's perfect. Please don't be angry, but I have to pay you back when I can. Where on earth did you get it?"

Jacinta thought she knew what it was. If it was that gold ring, Elena was right, it was perfect. She melted back into the shadows. Well, well, a certain stuck-up princess more concerned about a peasant than herself. This elf was definitely earning a second chance from Jacinta.

When Elena showed Kassie the ring later, the reaction was all anyone could wish for. Kassie cried and this set Elena off. The two were laughing, crying and hugging each other. Elena let it be known she had borrowed from Hakeem, but would pay him back.

Then Myriani and some of the other women came into the house, they started to cry and make "Oh" and "Ah" noises. Oh, no! Jacinta thought in disgust. This is infectious! She went in search of Daniel and Omar, hoping for some vigorous quarter staff practice. She realised now why most of the men were keeping out of the women's way.

* * *

On the afternoon of the wedding day, Kassandra had her wedding bath and a massage with sweet-smelling oils supervised by the women of her village. Ian would have his special bath at his home. Elena did a wonderful job of organising Kassandra's fine golden hair, so it was a mass of tresses, braids, ribbons and tiny flowers. Elena looked tired but happy, propped up on cushions to watch.

Elves don't mind cold weather. The second half of winter was the common time for elvish weddings and they were always held at night.

Kassandra was dressed in a wool chiton, sewn and pinned from a single large rectangle of material. It was red, the festival or 'marriage' colour. The garment was loose, but draping it and folding it simply, but elegantly, was an art. It was tied with a cord of woven yellow silk. Over this, she had a lovely fur coat and fine sheepskin boots. All this was for warmth because underneath she had to be naked.

Perhaps Kassandra was to be a farmer's wife, but she was an elf. She looked inhumanly beautiful and fair.

Hakeem was smartly dressed in white pants and top. He wore his medal from the King Helios around his neck and his crescents of Shayvist Mastery, now all in gold, on his waistband. Over this he wore a fine cloak. Jacinta had chosen one of her Gypsy dresses, her boots and her coat.

The preparations were finished, all of the bride's party were now ready, and they waited in anticipation, their breath steaming in the cold air. Just on dusk, singing could be heard and the smoking torches of the groom's party could be seen coming in the distance. Kassandra dropped a veil, to conceal her face.

Hakeem cried out in a load voice, "Who goes there?"

To which Ian replied, "It is I, who have come for that which was promised me!"

He was leading a great horse (that looked suspiciously like Nadeer) decorated with ribbons and flowers.

Hakeem called out again in a mighty voice, "Come forth, you are judged worthy. Please accept this daughter, whom we love. Cherish her as we have. I, as her father, call on the Great Earth Mother to bless your marriage with children, happiness and prosperity. Please accept these small gifts as symbols of our love for you both."

There would gifts to the groom from the bride's side, but these were really for the bride, from her family and friends but given to the groom. Traditionally these were things like gold bangles that the bride could sell in extreme circumstances, livestock was not uncommon. Unless the bride was wealthy in her own right, this was her dowry.

Though Ian was now responsible for supporting his wife, this allowed the bride's family to help the married couple. If the bride's family were poor, the cost of gifts could result in hardship.

This moment was going to be a little awkward. The dowry contained the gift of the beautiful ring, courtesy of Elena. Since Hakeem's recent visit, Myriani was wealthy by village standards. So the dowry was generous. Myriani could have given more, but Ian's family was proud and there was a danger of offence.

Kassandra brought the dowry forward and bowed her head as she passed it to Ian. Ian's party froze.

Hakeem's great voice range out. "The dowry is a generous one. But I have seen Ian, and tested his quality. Proud must be his parents and proud too am I that such a man would come to claim my daughter. Now do you accept?"

Ian's party relaxed. This was not an insult; it was a compliment. There were smiles and nodding all around. "I accept this dowry on behalf of my son, Ian, and my new daughter, Kassandra," said Ian's father.

"I thank you," Hakeem added. "You do me and my family a great honour, to see our daughter in union with such a fine man!" Ian's family, feeling honoured, was looking relaxed and happy. "Sad though we are to see our beloved daughter leaving, proud are we of the family she joins."

The truth was that Kassandra's mum, Myriani and Ian's parents would be described as quite 'modern'. The marriage had been decided by the children with the enthusiastic approval of the neighbouring parents. This ceremony was a formality that bore little relationship to the reality of a love made in heaven.

Ian offered Kassandra an apple he had carried from his home, to symbolise his promise to feed and look after her. She seemed to thoroughly enjoy it under the cover of her veil, finishing it all, even the core! There was some laughter and murmured comments over this.

Ian then lifted Kassandra up onto Nadeer, and mounted behind her. Nadeer, loving an audience, neighed and pranced and then he bowed his head and moved off at a dignified pace to Kassandra's new home. The wedding party followed, singing and beating tambourines (traditionally to frighten harmful wood sprites), and the women sprinkled flowers from baskets.

Fortunately it wasn't too far.

Then Ian helped his new bride down, lifted her veil, and kissed her to great applause. He swept her up, smiling, and proudly carried her into the house. The wedding party stayed outside drinking and partying till Ian opened the door a crack and waved a white sheet with a small blood stain (to prove Kassandra's virginity, by tradition). Just in case, Kassandra's dress had a dolphin medallion fixed with a pin.

Ian and Kassandra were allowed to join the party at this point, but before this could happen, a hand was seen to grab Ian by the arm and pull him firmly back inside. The door slammed shut, to raucous applause. There was no sense now waiting for them to emerge.

The crowd moved over to where the party would be held. Hakeem had bundled Elena in enough blankets to almost crush her under the weight and brought her up, via a cart.

Jacinta, Myriani and many others were more than happy to look after Elena, who had become a much loved, if somewhat shy companion.

Hakeem had permission from both Jacinta and Elena to join the drinking party. No doubt he would regret it the next day, no doubt at all.

They had placed the pitch torches at intervals, and further light came from a small bonfire. There was little breeze, so the windows of the house had their wooden shutters pushed wide open and lots of fat beeswax candles could be seen glowing inside.

The surrounding trees were hung with small paper lanterns. The paper was delicately painted with figures and scenes, and then made translucent with small quantities of coloured oils. It was glued to a wicker frame with a candle placed at the bottom.

Several women launched brightly coloured paper hot-air balloons to obtain good luck for the couple. They were gossamer light and floated gracefully up to the tree tops in the still air.

Being an elf party, there were small packets of salts and powders which when added to the fire or sprinkled onto a torch gave brilliant glows of orange, green, and blue. There would be a flash, and for moments, the whole scene would light up in one of the bright colours.

Seating was mostly stumps and logs, but the neighbours had also pooled any available chairs. A massive log split down its length, and placed on trestles formed a table. It contained a wonderful spread of roasted meats, fish, pies, cakes, stews, breads, preserves, and more. There were elf-sweets and biscuits. Elves loved anything sweet.

On a small fire, an elvish man was roasting skewers of meat.

How did they keep some of those fruits fresh? Hakeem had wondered before. Apparently they made clever use of snow off the mountain.

The younger children had already eaten, after which they each received a small packet with toffee and fudge. There were also pretty hair ribbons for the older girls and small dolls for the younger ones. The boys had been given carved whistles, so there were children running backwards and forwards and constant piping in the air.

After the feast, several drums and flutes, plus a harp were brought. No human can hear the elves sing one of their beautiful haunting hymns to the Goddess, or one of their songs of love, and not be enchanted. There is a certain magical beauty in elf celebrations. To an elf, to worship the Mother Goddess is always to walk in beauty.

Jacinta taught some of the women the Gypsy dance steps to a popular Greek song. Men and women usually danced in large mixed groups often in a circle, all moving in step to the music. Some dances were for men or women only, some were for both. The dances for elf women were very graceful. Later there was the exquisite, almost mystical dancing to a slow Elvish song. Jacinta stood to watch it, her hand held to her mouth, entranced by its beauty.

By this stage, Ian and Kassandra had made an appearance. Overhead, there was a garland of flowers made of dyed silk. They first had to stop and kiss under this before they could join the party.

It was a very long kiss.

Hakeem spent some time examining the elf powders. Especially the tight paper cylinders the elves had sealed with clay at one end and had a small hole at the other. They contained a black powder and if one lit the end with a hole, they sometimes gave a loud bang and sometimes a fierce jet of red flame. It was great fun if a little dangerous.

He opened one and examined its construction carefully. Perhaps the powder could be wound in a thin paper tube and pushed into the cylinder to make a safer way of lighting. He wondered what effect these may have on horses in a battle but he had no time to ask.

Some men had retired to one side to chat and drink together. Hakeem joined them, and he and Omar began matching each other drink for drink. It was very good wine. Omar wasn't visibly affected, while Hakeem looked increasingly drunk. The last thing Hakeem remembered was walking arm and arm with Ian's father, singing off key. What they discussed seemed to be of enormous importance. It was a shame he couldn't remember any of it the next morning.

He missed the hundred and one things Elena and Jacinta told him about the party, when they were discussing it the next day. The food was delicious, he remembered that, and he woke with a headache, he most definitely remembered that.

The next day the elves insisted on celebrated Jacinta's twelfth birthday. They had a quiet ceremony with the family, and a small feast. Humans did not celebrate children's birthdays like the elves did, and Jacinta had no idea when her birth was, only that it was late in winter.

Most humans were illiterate and hard pressed to tell their age, let alone their birth date unless it was near to a feast date. The fact that humans used a lunar calendar with adjustments (which varied from city to city) to bring it in sync with the solar seasons didn't help at all.

Elena and Hakeem gave Jacinta a heavy hunting bow, relatively plain for an elf-bow, but beautifully made. Myriani gave her an exquisite silver dolphin broach.

Kassandra and Ian visited the next day. Kassandra fairly glowed, and Ian looked so proud.

It was good to see them, as Hakeem and Omar planned to leave the next day. It was judged that Elena had gained enough strength to travel.

Hakeem sent a coded letter to Samit, Helios and the Grand Abbot. He wanted to let them know what was happening and warn them. It would take much longer to get to Karsh and he didn't know when he would be able to return to Pergamon.

* * *

The leave-taking the next day was particularly hard for Elena, who hugged Myriani and Kassandra tearfully, reluctant to let them go. She promised to return if she could.

Myriani took Hakeem aside. "Look after that one. She's been through a lot and seen a lot. I suspect something's not right about her past, but she's a very special lady. You're lucky to have her."

Hakeem didn't know when he could visit Myriani again but it did his heart good to see her and her family settled, and they approved of Elena and Jacinta.! Myriani and Kassandra was the only other family he had outside of the order.

 

Chapter 20: Flight, and Anything You Can Do an Elf Can Do Better!

A few days south of the Black Sea region, they pulled over and got ready to travel as Gypsies.

Omar had obtained a black dye for Elena's hair, which certainly changed her appearance, though Hakeem thought she was just as beautiful.

For Elena and Daniel Omar had a very light brown stain for their skin. Omar and Hakeem didn't need it, not all Gypsies were as dark as Jacinta. Elena ended looking fair for a Gypsy, but at least not nearly as pale as a sickly elf! They would say she had mixed blood.

They were a family: a husband, wife and son, and a niece (Jacinta was too dark to be Elena's child) and Omar was Hakeem's father and grandfather to the two children.

Omar supplied a comprehensive collection of Gypsy clothes hidden in the wagon, even embroidered undergarments for the girls. He had quite a lot of connection with Gypsies over the years but how the old bachelor knew all what to get, Hakeem couldn't imagine.

Elena, as a 'romni' (married Gypsy woman), wore an embroidered and beaded bodice over a plain blouse, her skirt was multi-layered and she had a woollen shawl. She wore a diklo (Gypsy hat or bandana) in scarlet, which concealed her pointed ears.

Jacinta kept most of her simpler garments and her good boots, which added to the picture by being somewhat mismatched to the rest of her clothes. The men and Daniel wore baggy shirts with leather jerkins, coats, and baggy trousers with sashes around their waists. They all had serviceable boots and sandals. Over the top they wore cloaks.

One thing missing were the usual Gypsy bangles and jewellery, one of the ways the Gypsies stored what little wealth they had. They would pick up some of them up on their journey.

For weapons, they bristled with daggers and the men had their Shantawi swords. They all kept their bows handy and five quarter staves were stored in the wagon. Hakeem and Omar could hardly be passed off as artisans or entertainers, so they would be mercenaries, returning home with their family, which explained why they were better off.

It also allowed Hakeem and Omar to carry their 'kit' (armour).

They had a wagon, covered with six wooden arches over which hemp canvas was stretched. It was drawn by two horses and they had three other horses to allow the others to ride alongside. Nadeer could hardly be owned by a travelling Gypsy and he would have to go to Karsh separately, with some of their finer things

Elena asked if they would stay in the usual traveller's stops, but Hakeem told her they would be staying in the villages. They would use Elena's infirmity as an excuse for lodging in villages. They would be safer than camping out, and no one in their right mind would consider looking for an elf princess in a human peasant village.

She simply said, "Yes, Hakeem," and smiled adoringly at him.

* * *

At first, Hakeem rode in the wagon with Elena, but as his leg improved so he could sit a horse, Jacinta displaced him.

Elena and Jacinta became inseparable; there really is something special about the friendships women form with each other. Jacinta reminded Elena of Seléne; she loved to chat with the bubbly Gypsy girl. Jacinta wished her small family of two could become a family of three, with Elena.

Hakeem wondered what the two of them found to talk about the whole time.

He heard comments like, "You said what?"… "What did he say?" This would be followed by the pair laughing hilariously. He guessed, correctly, that he was a common topic of conversation.

That the two 'girls' he loved got on so well warmed his heart.

He was initially worried that Jacinta might be jealous of the growing love between himself and Elena and he was relieved she didn’t seem to be. One day he asked her about it. He was driving the wagon and she was ambling along with her horse nearby, while Elena was sleeping inside.

"Of course not, silly!" Jacinta replied with a smug look.

"After all you're allowed three wives!" she spurred her horse and trotted off. Hakeem was speechless. She must be joking. He desperately prayed that she was joking.

For Elena, it was a time of physical and emotional healing. At first, she needed to sleep a lot, bundled in blankets against the bitter cold. Gone was the elf tolerance of cold weather. She slowly gained strength and regained her weight. Mainly, she felt loved and she loved back in return.

Hakeem cherished and fussed over her. He especially didn't want her to become pregnant. He wouldn't allow her to use any of the herbs for that while she was so run down, so while they slept together each night, they had to restrain themselves except certain times of her moon. Or at least Hakeem had to restrain himself. More than once he had to warn Elena off her teasing mischief, starting things they couldn't finish.

Each of the travellers made it a point of honour to speak Romani to each other, with Jacinta correcting their accents. She also taught them about Romani customs, beliefs, songs, and legends, anything she could think of. All four were good at learning, but Elena seemed the best.

Hopefully it would be enough.

Hakeem's thigh healed enough for him to begin strengthening exercises and he only limped towards the end of the day. That he would make a full recovery was remarkable after the abuse he subjected it to. Perhaps some of his ability to heal others also applied to himself, or perhaps it was related to the elvish treatments.

Jacinta and Daniel practiced quarter staff and unarmed combat regularly, under the vigilant eye of Omar.

Elena was slow to regain her strength, but regain it she did. Slowly Hakeem taught her strengthening exercises, and then he decided to improve her use of the bow. He set up a target, showing her how to aim and draw with a thumb ring.

Then Elena turned her back and started to walk away, putting the thumb ring in her pocket and pulling out a three-fingered leather glove, she switched the arrow from the outside to the inside of the bow, the way it was done for a three-fingered grip.

"Alright, use the elf draw if you want, but where are you going?" Hakeem called to Elena.

"The target's too close from there," she called back as she turned around and nocked the arrow. "You're quite safe, but may wish to move."

That's too far, Hakeem thought, scurrying out of her way. She wants to prove a point, it seems, but she can't hit anything from there. Elena pulled the bow back effortlessly and put a perfect shot near the centre of the target.

Then she did it again, and again.

Without a word, Elena and Hakeem walked back to the target to collect her arrows. Jacinta appeared and came up to stand next to Elena. When she had collected her arrows, they stood watching him with matching smirks on their faces.

"How did the archery lesson go?" Jacinta asked him, with seeming innocence. The pair collapsed helpless with laughter, hugging each other for support. Hakeem smiled, shaking his head ruefully. It would be a long time before he heard the end of this. It was very ancient history now, but it was a disastrous encounter with the elves that originally tamed the Shantawi. Before that, they had been feared raiders.

The wealth of the Eastern Elves was legendary. So an ambitious warlord amassed a large army from all the tribes and, with promises of rich plunder, they set forth on the long journey north to Elgard.

As he entered the homelands of the elves, his force was lured deeper and deeper into the forest by the elves. The tribesmen were fearless, but they found themselves strung out in narrow pathways, surrounded by trees. They couldn't gallop or fight with their horses, as they did on the open plains and they couldn't join together. An elf could be hiding anywhere in the forest and they simply wouldn’t see them.

Eventually it started. Arrows seemed to fly from the trees themselves. They were being systematically slaughtered, as they tried to retreat. Still, they refused offer after offer of surrender, till the warlord overruled his men and put a stop to their dying. They gained the grudging respect of the elves for their courage.

The warlord gave a binding oath that they would not be the aggressor to their neighbours ever again. It is a matter of pride that the Shantawi have kept their promise through the centuries. The elves are not the only ones with long memories.

Honour above all else became the Shantawi's greatest source of pride. On occasion a neighbour misunderstood their "peaceful" ways, much to their cost. They are implacable foes, and what they take, they keep.

So he should have expected it, Elena was every inch an elf once she had a bow in her hand.

Hakeem hadn’t studied Elena’s bow before and asked if he could look at it.

Elves traditionally used long bows. There is nothing quite like them for accuracy and power, but shorter bows were easier to carry and store and some elves had started copying the shorter 'Scythian' bows. They were perfect for horseback, better in difficult terrain and for rapid fire or swiftly moving targets.

Hakeem's bow formed a flattened and rounded "M" with the ends curved up (recurved), a bit like the bow 'Cupid' is supposed to shoot lovers with and it formed a "U" on full draw.

The short bow is made in layers, to make it powerful relative to its size.

Hard wood, like maple, is chosen for the central layer. The belly (on the same side as the string), has a strong layer of animal horn which compresses and springs back and the outside is tendon which stretches and snaps back into position. All the layers are glued and bound tightly.

Up to that point, Elena's gear was similar but that was where the comparison ended. It was rather plain for an elvish weapon but everything about it was a work of art. Elena looked very smug as she watched Hakeem examine it, and Jacinta looked amused.

Her gorytos had green and red stitching and beautiful tanned leather. Hakeem still had the one Origenes had given him. It was serviceable but was starting to look decidedly shabby.

Her bow-string was made from silk thread and seemed remarkably strong, far better than his waxed hemp. Hemp was notorious for taking up water and rotting and had to be kept waxed to protect it.

Her arrows were sharper, with bodkin (fine) points like Hakeems but their nock fitted more snuggly and the shaft of each arrow had a separate section of harder wood near the tip to prevent the arrow breaking.

The bow itself was simply decorated for an elf royal. The layers were bound with silk soaked in glue and the tips and grip were re-enforced with bone. It had a protective coating of lacquer, to prevent excessive sun or rain. The colours were natural but inlaid with tiny fragments of shell to shine like rainbows in the light.

Hakeem glanced up at Elena. All he could do was shake his head in amazement. "You must be joking," was all he could say. It didn't have to be this perfect.

He drew it a few times experimentally. You can't draw something as powerful as a battle-bow with two fingers. Elves used a glove and three-fingered grip which means the arrow sits on the inside of the bow. The rest of their small party used the thumb ring which meant the arrow lies on the outside of the bow.

Hakeem had been taught that coordinating a three-finger release was more strain and less accurate, but it didn't seem to hamper the elves.

Hakeem's bow generated a force about equal to Elena's normal body weight, heavy for a horse bow. Elena's bow was probably just under Jacinta's body weight. He nonetheless smiled and nodded when he felt it at full draw. It was impressive for a woman.

Elena and Jacinta were looking at him closely while he examined Elena's equipment.

"What do you think?" Elena asked, for a moment serious.

Hakeem shook his head and grinned apologetically. "Elena, your bow is not only beautiful but beautifully made. You elves have taken something we humans have made for more than a thousand years and have shown us how it should have been made all this time.

"As far as your archery, you are more accurate than me over distance, though I am faster and stronger. I would be grateful to get lessons from another elf, if you will agree to teach such as me."

Elena blushed and grinned back, her eyes tearing a little:

Hakeem was proud of her!

So Elena became the one in charge of teaching archery, including to Hakeem. She had formidable accuracy over distance, but she was not yet fit enough to be battle ready.

The quarter stave was one of the favourite practice weapons of the religious monks. They are cheap and effective and could be used to disable, rather than kill. Staves in individual combat are an actually more difficult than spears and shields if used properly. They can be used to bash or poke and there is a complicated range of blocks, thrusts, strikes, sweeps and coordinated movements, even short leaps.

When Omar offered Hakeem a lesson, he didn't scoff. The stave was not Hakeem's weapon of choice. He could never have stood against Omar in his prime but Elena, Jacinta and Daniel were privileged to be about to witness two grand masters practicing the art.

The two kitted up with padded protection and started slowly. Hakeem was surprised at the speed and fitness of the old man. Then they got faster.

The bout became a blur of rapid feints, lunges and strikes as they battled back and forward. The crack-crack of the sticks echoed loudly across the valley.

The small audience watched in terror as the speed and savagery of the fight increased. Surely one would be injured or even killed; for once it looked like it might be Hakeem.

They attacked each other with deadly force as they feinted and thrust, circled, moved back and forth and swept and struck. But neither would try such a thing except against an extremely skilled opponent, or damage would surely ensue, they needed trust that the other would not miss in defence.

While the others watched, aghast, Hakeem and Omar were testing each other, not really trying to kill or maim one another.

It seemed to last forever and it was Hakeem who broke it off. Both were dripping with sweat and panting. Hakeem's leg was obviously giving him pain.

"We need to do this more often. I have to get back into regular training," Hakeem gasped.

"Not bad, though I hoped for better," panted Omar. "I still don't think you can beat me."

Hakeem smiled broadly and bowed formally, the quarter staff in one hand. "May the day never come, Master!"

Omar smiled in his turn. "Still, you are good, very good."

So a routine started. The pupils were Hakeem, Elena, Jacinta and Daniel. Omar taught the stave and unarmed combat, sometimes with help from Hakeem. Hakeem would also at times give lessons in Wing Chun to Jacinta and Daniel. Elena taught the bow, tracking and woods-craft.

Hakeem took the lion's share of the camp work, to allow the others to continue their training, while he slowly regained the strength in his leg.

* * *

Hakeem was surprised to find Elena was so competitive!

Anything a human could do; an elf could do better.

There was some male-female rivalry as well and Hakeem, being Hakeem, couldn't resist setting up a teasing, competitive atmosphere.

He pretended to be jealous and competitive, while in reality he was fiercely proud of Elena.

Jacinta always sided with Elena, Daniel and Omar were more of an amused audience.

It was such a delicious game!

One day, Elena and Hakeem were arguing about horse training. Hakeem was taking a view he would never support except to keep the argument going. According to Elena, you don't train horses; you develop a bond where they wish to please you.

Hakeem was taking the view that they were dumb animals (no tribesman would think that for a moment) and they just needed firm training.

Hakeem and Elena went to separate ends of the small field and both called to Jacinta's horse, Farah. The horse tossed its head and nickered. She hesitated, looking backwards and forwards between the two of them as they both called her as temptingly as they could. Finally, she decided, and trotted quickly to Elena.

What a traitor! Hakeem thought, stamping his foot in frustration, he owned Farah first.

Both the girls were crowing, Elena showed the hidden apple Farah knew she would be carrying, and made a big production of giving it to her, while stroking and praising her.

"Hakeem," Elena yelled triumphantly as she trotted back with the horse. "Anything you can do, I can do better!"

"I know something I can do that you will never be able to do." Hakeem teased as he walked back.

"And what's that, human?" Elena challenged, with her hands on her hips, pretending to be stern.

"I'll show you later, if your time is right. There's one elf at least, who thinks I'm good at it." Hakeem was rewarded with Elena smiling and blushing.

What could she say?

 

Chapter 21: Peasants, a Great Lady, a Pig, and Fighting a Post

It was late winter and the nights were still cold.

The five 'Gypsies' were heading mainly south and a little east across the dry steppe of central Anatolē, famous for its horses, sheep and angora goats. Karsh, the oasis city was beyond Anatolē, in the northernmost part of the great desert which was to the south. It was on a couple of alternate rather than primary trade routes, but the land was kept peaceful and the taxes were minimal and so Karsh prospered.

To get there, they go through the Kilisian pass to the eastern Mediterranean coast before heading south and east into the desert. The hunt for Elena would be concentrated in the north. They would assume she was headed east over the northern mountain pass to Elgard.

Staying at the human villages was an education for the elf princess. At first, there was always initial wariness upon encountering a family of Gypsies; it relaxed when Hakeem explained that he wanted to pay for the food and lodging and showed his money.

When they heard that his wife was still weak from the chest fever, it all changed!

Soon the women were bundling Elena inside, while Hakeem would be enduring a stern dressing down by some old grandma for travelling too soon in the season with a sick wife.

Elena learned a lot about the local herbs, and was fed enough of the local ginger-chicken remedy to last a lifetime.

The travellers never failed to charm their hosts, especially the shy elf lady. Elena was deeply touched by the kindness of simple peasants. Even after she regained her normal weight, being an elf, she looked far too thin for any self-respecting human peasant grandma! None of them could resist the challenge to fuss over her and feed her up. Once started, the local hospitality was legendary for good reason.

It was often difficult to get the villagers to accept payment in the end, and the travellers soon found other ways to pay for their keep. Elena was skilled in the elf arts of healing, which became 'ancient knowledge of the Romani'. Hakeem was skilled with all to do with animals. Jacinta trained the group to be fair entertainers, and Omar was a skilled builder, blacksmith and craftsman.

Elena was hopeless in the kitchen, but was excused due to her weakness, but she did help in any way she could. Jacinta and Daniel were very used to doing chores. Hakeem and Omar would pitch in with their strong backs. It was usually possible to find ways to repay their hosts.

They also stopped at markets and purchased their jewellery and lots of small gifts for children and adults. Human peasants unlike elves had large families and there was never a shortage of children: cute and endlessly curious.

Elena was having the best time of her life. Her world had been turned upside down. Those who were supposed to be most despised, she loved best. She had travelled from the Royal Elvish Court, to the home of petty nobles, then elvish peasants and now human peasants. The further they got away from the Elvish Court, the happier she was.

She found the fussy and very chatty human grandmothers adorable. They reminded her of a happy period of her childhood, being loved by her nursemaid Ailya.

She never wanted to return to the palace. She wished she weren't who she was. She would be happy being a wife to this wonderful man and a mother to Jacinta.

But staying in such villages was not without shocks for an elf princess. Elena remembered whispering to the others, 'I can't believe I'm walking on a floor made of dung and will be sleeping on it tonight!' (It was the usual mud and cow-dung mix. The action of something in the cow's stomach on grass produces something with waterproofing qualities)

"Yes, comfortable, isn't it" rumbled the pleasant bass voice of Omar as he brought a load of their bedding inside.

At times, the toilet facilities were surprising and even unpleasant. Lucky it wasn't summer. She had to avoid public bathing for obvious reasons, but could usually skirt around this; she didn't have to pretend shyness.

Her favourite story, which would bring Jacinta into hysterics, was describing a toilet in a farm yard. "I couldn't see how it could work. It was a hole that one squatted over. It was on one of those houses built on a slope against a mound of earth, so there was a floor below. Below the hole there was a ramp made from treated mud, it was surprisingly clean. It seems that they dumped all sorts of scraps down there.

Being a Lady…," (Jacinta always started to giggle at the description of the clean ramp, and the Great Lady seated over the hole above.)

Elena strengthened her aristocratic accent, "….and used to servants, you know, I didn't think further, since they obviously kept it clean.

"Just as I started to relax, I heard some disturbance below, a snuffling noise. So I looked down and it looked up! It was staring at my bottom in anticipation. I just couldn't continue."

"And such a fat looking pig!" they would cry in unison, rolling around laughing.

After this, Elena lost some of her elvish love of pork. Would a pig really eat such things? She didn't want to ask.

When they could get away with it and if they were offered pork (as a rare treat), the two would make snuffling noises at each other and collapse with laughter. When Elena realised one of the sources of manure for those wondrously big vegetables the peasants grew came from the peasants themselves, she was beyond surprise.

Elena was getting an experience that a royal, especially a royal elf, rarely had. She was mixing unnoticed with humble people, and found she loved them as much as she hated those at court. She learned about cooking and women's tasks, local herbs and watched the men building, repairing roofs, building fences from saplings to keep cattle in, innumerable small tasks. It was sometimes hard work, but the land was good for the soul, something an elf would never forget.

She feared to return to her home and one day she was talking to Jacinta about this.

"I really don't want to be Queen. I wanted to give it all up and never return, but they wouldn't let me. I would love nothing better than to marry Hakeem, but it would never be allowed for me to marry a mercenary captain."

Jacinta coughed a little in embarrassment. "Well Hakeem needs to tell you about what he actually does. He's a bit shy about it, I think."

"Well, he shouldn't be!" said Elena, with fierce pride in her man. "He's so young and wasn't noble born. To become a captain at his age, he deserves to be proud. Why he may even become a full commander before he retires."

All Jacinta would say was: "That he will be a commander before he finishes, I have no doubt. He needs to explain this, not me."

Elena nodded her understanding; she knew about male egos.

She could make him a commander in her own army, but she wouldn't want to do this to him. As a human, he would be despised as sleeping with the Queen to get a command. 'Queen's consort' and a human, it would be a shameful thing to do to him at the elf Court. She sighed, what was to become of them?

It was near the end of their journey through Anatolē that Hakeem showed them something he was making. The three 'students' and Omar were practicing the push-pull and hand-trapping techniques of Wing Chun. The response to the opponent's moves needed to become instinctive and fast.

Hakeem had finished polishing a thick post with four extra thick wooden handles that he had hammered in at different angles. He was trimming them, checking their strength and humming away to himself.

"What on earth?" asked Jacinta, as she and Daniel crowded around.

"Those two aren't the same height, you have made a mistake," Jacinta pointed out.

"They're not supposed to be," said Hakeem, who was looking very pleased with himself. "Those up there will be two arms when I shorten them. This one down here is another arm, and the one below a leg."

"Well," said Jacinta. "I'm not as impressed with your work as you seem to be. It doesn't look much like a person on a post, and it's got three arms and one leg!"

"Nonetheless, this post will be your Wing Chun opponent for some special exercises," Hakeem smiled,

"Or at least will be when I trim it, a little it will be. When I sink it into the ground, you'll find it a very tough opponent, and a punishing one. Few can fight it for very long." He shadow-boxed to demonstrate. "It is to practice your angles in fighting, and toughen your arms up."

Oh great, Jacinta moaned, more toughening up. She and Daniel had just got over bashing both sides of their forearms back and forward together for what seemed hours till they were purple with bruises. They had bruises on their bruises!

* * *

The journey south was slow.

Hakeem briefly thought about whether he was justified continuing the way he was. Should he just make a desperate dash to safety? The sort of wagon they had was not built for speed. Any attempt otherwise over uneven ground would only result in breakage and roadside repairs.

And only lately Elena was well enough to travel far in one day.

A dash for safety would also lead them to the main highways and involve camping out and staying at inns, exactly what their pursuers would expect.

The slow progress through less travelled roads and staying in poor rural villages should hopefully make them invisible. He also hoped the main search was the roads to the north and east rather than south.

How about the time they spent on training? Should they dispense with that in in the interest of speed? Hakeem had a view which allowed him little room to compromise. This was a long journey and only in Karsh itself would they be safe. Then he had to lead Jacinta and Elena on a journey to the elvish city. At that stage, they would then be travelling with a large escort, but even then, their opponents had enough manpower to attack them en-route.

Whoever attacked an escort under Hakeem's command would find they had made a dreadful mistake. But it was precisely due to his mania over preparation and discipline.

Hakeem was used to danger and had gained an admirable reputation of losing very few of his men in some lethal situations. Patience, planning and skill all played their part, but his most important rule was that all those he lead needed to be supremely well trained, in peak fitness, and ready to fight.

Elena was in great danger. Jacinta had chosen a life with Hakeem and he could not shield her forever. Even Daniel, he suspected, would one day have to fight for his life and the lives of those he loved. The sooner they learned to be able to defend themselves, the better Hakeem would feel.

So were they able to defend themselves at the start of the journey?

Elena started tired, weak and thin. Now she was in better physical condition than ever before in her life and starting to show muscle despite being an elf. She had the elvish ability with a bow but now was battle ready with it. She was thoroughly grounded in the basics of the quarter staff and was ready to learn the sword. Hakeem himself was only now ready for active service. Then they had two children, admittedly in training.

Omar, Hakeem reflected with a wry smile, the old man, was the only one of all of them that started the journey in any condition to fight.

Let's see: an old man, an injured warrior, a princess unused to fighting, and two children. Could they really expect to fight a band of hired killers? So they relied on stealth, not speed. But Hakeem would not sacrifice their being able to defend themselves for only a little extra speed.

Had he made a mistake?

He was about to find out.

 

Chapter 22: Gypsies, and a Desperate Battle

Jacinta froze, three Gypsies were riding towards them. Their disguises would never fool real Gypsies.

Elena and Daniel hung well back, picking up their bows. Hakeem was wearing Mir, and Omar seemed to be casually carrying a pole, which he rested against the wagon. They hoped Jacinta could do most of the talking.

"Droboy tume Romale," Hakeem called out. (It is good to see you, Rom).

"Nais tuke (thank you)," their leader, who they later found out was named Garran, called back.

Hakeem gave a short bow, with his palms together and smiled, "I bow to that within you."

"It is with God, that we have found you!" The young swarthy man smiled in return.

"May God be with you! Niece, bring our guests refreshments. Have you eaten?"

Fortunately, they had.

They introduced themselves, while they sipped some local wine. As they chatted to Hakeem, Jacinta kept looking at their leader with a puzzled expression as if she was wondering if she knew him.

These Gypsies were part of a caravan that was headed for Karsh. They would be appointing a new warlord, had you heard? They should make a lot of money with all the crowds descending.

What tribe are you from? That's wonderful, you are our kin. You must come to our camp. Oh … the fever? The visitors casually moved back.

"Well I'm sorry" said Garran. Then the smile fell from his face. "Gaje Gajensa, Rom Romensa (stick with your own kind)!" He spat at Hakeem's feet, his hand on the hilt of his sword. He followed it with a blistering Gypsy curse and changed to Greek.

"You are wise not to come to our camp, as you would not be allowed to leave. Your accents are good, but you didn't really believe you could fool Romani did you? Whoever you are, you are clever to have your weapons close. Know this, you are not welcome in this region. If my grandfather and the rest of my tribe catch you, it will not be pleasant for you.

"Leave while you may. And I pray you recover from your case of 'fever.'" He smiled almost pleasantly as he backed up to where his men waited with the horses.

Jacinta ran up and caught his sleeve, talking rapidly in an unfamiliar dialect.

He replied in kind, then pointing over behind a nearby hill, the direction of his camp. They talked on for a few minutes.

"So," he concluded eventually, "I find you are travelling with my cousin. She brings great shame on her tribe, but for her sake we will not return with more men to kill you.

"I will also give you a warning. You are in great danger and not just from us. People are searching for you. They know who you are, where you are and what you look like." then he switched to Romani. "When the fox hunts, the rabbit runs!"

With that, he leapt on his horse, and the three rode off.

The Gypsies were part of Jacinta's clan, what terrible luck! But at least they were able to give them a warning. Deliberately or by accident, they had been betrayed.

They didn't need a second warning. Hunters would be racing to stop them from reaching the Kilisian Gates, the narrow mountain pass to the coast. Quickly, the travellers packed their wagon and started to move. Hakeem and Omar knew they would have to change their disguises now, hide the wagon and maybe burn it.

They stopped near a rise. Jacinta hurried up a slight hill to look over to the Gypsy camp while the others were readying their gear. Hakeem joined her in looking over the Gypsies, to check they would not be chased.

Not far up a small valley, by a stream, the Gypsies had made their encampment: wagons, tents and smoke from their campfires and horses, goats and sheep. They could hear the noise of dogs barking. Jacinta sighed longingly, "It's going to be a gathering, and they are waiting for the rest to join them," she murmured.

Hakeem touched her arm and pointed to a spot back from the camp.

Jacinta gasped. There were thirty or more armed men on foot, just behind a group of trees and they were getting ready for battle. They were on foot and poorly dressed … bandits rather than a raiding party.

They had to be desperate to attack a Gypsy caravan, but they had the numbers and would catch them unprepared.

"We must help them," Jacinta said desperately, looking pale.

Hakeem nodded. "If we are to be in time, we will have to hurry."

Jacinta outpaced Hakeem on the way back, calling out urgently to the rest.

Omar started scrambling for his and Hakeem's kit.

Elena passed Jacinta her gorytos and then snatched at her own bow and quiver. Daniel was out in front of them, running for the hill. As Daniel started down the hill, Jacinta had just reached the crest. She moaned in anguish. The bandits had already started to move forward.

With tears in her eyes and her heart hammering, Jacinta ran for all she was worth, gaining on Daniel. Elena passed them both, running as only an elf can run. Jacinta reached inside herself for something deep down and tried to catch up with her.

Elena paused and muttered an Elvish prayer as she shot an arrow high into the air. It was an impossible shot, immediately she was back running. Jacinta heard the sound of horses galloping behind her.

Would they be in time to sound a warning?

Just then, Elena's arrow hit one of the bandits and he let out a great cry. The Gypsy camp erupted into frenzy. Women were screaming and running after their children and men were grabbing for whatever weapons they could, but the Gypsies were in serious trouble, Jacinta knew.

Her chest was on fire as she reached the floor of the valley. Elena was well in front.

Omar galloped past. "Don't get too close and try not to hit us," he called out unnecessarily.

Hakeem thundered past. "Don't worry about how it looks, there's not too many of them," he shouted to Elena and Jacinta.

Elena paused and quickly searched for her second target. "Oh!" she was muttering loudly through clenched teeth. "Nothing to worry about, there are only thirty of them and we have two children this time. That should make it easy!"

She chose her third target and began to swear monotonously in Elvish as she fired as quickly as she could. Jacinta caught up, but she was gasping helplessly.

Great, I made it, but I'm useless!

She snatched at an arrow and tried to hold her breath as she aimed; the world seemed to darken for a minute as she released. She took her next arrow slowly, trying to control her heaving lungs. Her legs felt so weak she thought they would give way on her.

The charge of Omar and Hakeem scattered the raiders. A few of the wagons were clustered defensively and the Gypsies were all sheltered there, but there were not enough of them.

Hakeem could hear horses galloping down the road from the other direction, a dozen young Gypsy men rounded the corner, riding hard to join the fight. Without them, more of the Gypsies would have been lost.

The bandits were now caught between Gypsies and their rescuers. Harried by the mounted warriors, and being decimated by the wickedly accurate archery of the elvish trained, they were being rapidly cut down.

* * *

The battle was over and Elena had lost sight of Jacinta.

She was running around, frantically searching for her amongst the confusion. She had also lost her diklo (head scarf) somewhere.

She found Jacinta kneeling beside Garran, tears streaming down her face. He had a bandit arrow protruding from the right side of his chest and was looking very pale.

He tried to smile. "Well, cousin. Did you know we thought you were dead? It's good to see you alive but for me, the meeting will be a short, I'm afraid. Where did you learn to shoot like that, and is she an elf?"

"Quickly," Elena screamed. "There's time! Get him into that tent; I have to get that arrow out!"

"Elena!" said Hakeem dismounting. "There's nothing you can do for him. He is dying. Let his family spend some time with him. If you move that arrow he will only bleed to death."

"No, Hakeem," said Elena. "There's a small chance. For Jacinta, I must try."

Jacinta swung to face Hakeem and shouted at him in Aramaic. "You're right, father! Elena can't do it!"

Jacinta's meaning was clear.

* * *

Garran had collapsed and now Hakeem and Omar were in a desperate race to get him into the tent. Jacinta was jabbering rapidly. Hot water was brought. A horseman galloped for Elena's tools and supplies.

Jacinta was relaying instruction from Elena on broth and potions as she was working desperately. They prayed they would be needed.

The vast bulk of Omar stood between the gathering crowd of Gypsies and the tent entrance. "No one is permitted to see this!"

In the background, the rest of the second group of Gypsies was arriving in a confusion of loud shouting, barking dogs and the jingle and creak of wagons.

The Gypsies who clustered near the tent whispered hopefully about elf magic: "She's an elf!" "Why is she dressed like a Romni?" "How do they speak our tongue?"

Elena was badly frightened. She had got the arrow out, but Garran's body was heaving for air. The wound was bleeding from deep within, and alternatively bubbling and sucking air. All she could do now was seal the outside wound and apply pressure. She didn't think it would be enough but she had to try.

She was hardly aware of Hakeem behind her, as he drew Mir and placed its point on the floor. Hakeem bowed his head and said a short prayer and then he concentrated ...

* * *

Praise the Mother! It was impossible, it was a wonder!

Garran was awake and in pain. He was pale, his breathing shallow and rapid, his pulse was rapid, but he was alive. He should be dead. Elena couldn't understand it.

The internal bleeding had slowed and then it stopped and when she closed the wound, the leakage of air and blood ceased.

Her heart was bursting and her vision blurred with tears as she bound the wound. She used now a simple dressing instead of a pressure bandage, so she could watch it for any change.

Now to herbs.

Nothing to make him sleep but something for pain (not too strong, now)!

Something to strengthen his breathing, something for the blood and something for strength and recovery. She dashed out to find their wagon that had been brought down.

"We have done what we can," Hakeem told Garran after Elena had hurried out. "You may have some weakness in your lung, but it didn't go badly."

Garran looked at him in wonder. "Didn't go badly? I was dead or at least dying and you were there with me. Who are you, wizard?"

Hakeem laughed. "I merely prayed to my God. Pay no attention to that fever dream. It was my elf lady who took out the arrow. Please tell no one of this, she travels in great danger, please help us."

"Help you?" Garran grunted, unconvinced by Hakeem's explanation that it was all a fever dream. "After bringing me back from the dead? You can ask anything, Lord."

There was a loud commotion outside. "Grandfather!" Garran whispered in alarm.

Hakeem poked his nose out to see an elderly Gypsy in fine clothes shouting angrily.

"You helped us, for that I am grateful, but don't you know who I am? My name is Djordji, the King of the Gypsies. I give the orders here! Let us see Garran before he dies and why are you dressed as Gypsies, anyway?"

Djordji was the most important and influential of all Anatolian Gypsies, the head of the greatest and largest clan.

Of course, there was no such thing as a Gypsy King. Romani don't tell dinlo (stupid) Gaje their clan secrets, and they loved to fool them. They most definitely would never call themselves 'Gypsies', a symbol of the ignorance with which they were treated.

Hakeem understood exactly who Djordji was and what his true position was.

"Your grandson rests. You and his mother can visit him now, sir," Hakeem said, with utmost respect, and bowed. He finished with, "er…Your Majesty."

The Gypsy leader flashed a suspicious look at Hakeem. Then he and a plump middle-aged woman barged into the tent. From that moment on, Djordji became called 'the Gypsy King' by all who knew him. Only the Romani and a few others understood the joke.

Garran's mother screamed as she saw her son was conscious.

She ran to him, Hakeem only barely grabbed her before she threw herself across his chest.

"You live!" she said, kissing him over and over. "But how can that be? I saw the wound." She ran outside in her excitement. "Praise the elf! She saved my son's life!" Great shouts broke out, a confusion of hope and disbelief.

Then Djordji limped out. "It's true, he lives!"

At this point, Elena came back with some potion and broth, looking very weary. Someone immediately took the broth and potion from her. People were spontaneously grabbing her and hugging her and kissing her. Everyone was joyously showering her with blessings.

Elena smiled back shyly. "He is better than I thought possible. I think his chance is good, as long as there is no further bleeding or infection. I myself can't believe it."

The Gypsies knew she wouldn't admit to doing elf magic. That's why they weren't allowed to see. They knew there would be no bleeding or infection, and the recovery would be miraculous.

Djordji barged through the crowd to embrace and kiss the elf. "I will not forget what you have done for us, Lady. We have other healers that will help your work now.

"When you can, I'd like you to come and speak to me. There is a serious matter we must discuss despite all we owe you. I need to know why you are here, dressed as Romani and travelling with Jacinta whom we thought dead!"

* * *

"Jacinta is my half-sister's daughter's daughter," the Gypsy King explained as Hakeem and Elena respectfully bowed before him. "I call her my niece. Now that her family is dead, I am her guardian."

Hakeem smiled uncertainly, "She is now called Jacinta bint Hakeem. I have adopted her, according to my custom."

"Ah, but of course, you cannot!" said the King of the Gypsies. "Did you ask permission? Did you ask any Romani for advice?"

"But I tried to get a Romani family for her!" Hakeem cried in distress. "She wants me, just ask her. I love her more than anything!"

"If you tried to get her a Romani family, and for some reason it didn't work, that's a favourable point," the King admitted. "As to what she wants, she is young. It is my decision to make, and I will consider the matter. If we had known, we would certainly not have permitted it.

"Also we have a matter of Gaje masquerading as Romani, that's very serious. I will forgive brother Omar and his pupil, as he has done us a great service in the past. They will have honour and welcome in our camp.

"You may have brought danger to our people doing this, though the help you have given will count favourably. Inside our camp, you need to be bound by our laws, do you agree?"

Jacinta was nodding furiously. "Yes," Hakeem said uncertainly.

It felt like his world was coming to an end. "Please…"

 

Chapter 23: A Gypsy Family, an Angry Princess, and the Shocking Truth

Elena and Hakeem sat clutching each other's hands and waiting miserably. The King had moved a little away with Jacinta, and a council of elders had formed.

Jacinta was jabbering away rapidly. Damn, Jacinta hadn't taught them her tribal dialect!

Jacinta seemed to be doing most of the talking at first, and the others were asking questions. Then for a long time they seemed to be arguing back and forward. Jacinta was obviously trying to sway the council to her thinking, against much resistance. Eventually the members of the council and the King returned, with Jacinta looking very uncertain.

"Well then," the King started, "if you need to bargain, leave it to the young one. She tells me you are a poor man. Is that true?"

Hakeem shook his head.

"Very well, I didn't believe it anyway," the King replied. "I understand you rescued her and avenged her family. You acted properly in trying to return her to the Romani. What happened there will be attended to. Under those circumstances, the adoption is judged honourable.

"Since then, you have loved her and cared for her as your own. She obviously loves you and made certain threats…" He smiled. "There is also the matter of you masquerading as Romani. The law is clear on both points. Will you abide by my judgement?"

Hakeem and Elena nodded, looking dejected.

"Unless you are Romani I cannot let you adopt our niece." At a gasp, he held up his hand. "However, we Romani do not forget what we owe. We are willing to confer on you honorary status amongst us. I will adopt you into my family and you must give me your oaths. You will be required to honour our ways and submit to our law, whenever in our camp."

Hakeem broke out in an astonished grin. This was to be a rare honour indeed! To be named friend of the Gypsies.

"And then you can adopt me!" Jacinta finished.

"In the matter of impersonating Romani," the King continued. "I fine you one silver Mina each. This is lenient." Hakeem passed a handful of coins across.

Lenient? A hundred and twenty shekels, two hundred Greek drachmas?

Hakeem hoped not to be the recipient of too much more of this King's 'leniency!'

"And now, the bride price!" the King continued. Jacinta started talking rapidly again. There were expressions of astonishment and a lot of smiling and nodding. "Well, you have provided a dowry, I understand it is generous. You are forgiven a bride price."

"The last problem is more difficult. A single man cannot adopt a girl."

At that, Elena stood. Her voice rang out clearly, "I will adopt Jacinta with Hakeem. I love her. I will be proud to be her mother, if she will have me!"

Jacinta yelled, "Yes! Yes!" delightedly and she ran to hug Elena, both were crying as Elena picked her up and they hugged fiercely.

The King at last smiled. "So, it is settled. Tomorrow I will take your oath and confirm Jacinta as your daughter! Tomorrow we will celebrate. You will see, we Romani know how to celebrate!"

Elena was a princess, and Jacinta only a Gypsy orphan. Hakeem was so stunned by Elena's offer he hardly noticed being hugged then kissed by the Gypsy King ... on both cheeks! He turned to his beautiful lady, feeling choked with emotion.

"You would do that for Jacinta?"

"Of course I would, silly!" Elena smiled.

"Elena, do you think you could ever marry such as I?" he asked in a hoarse voice, overcome.

"Hakeem," she looked at him incredulously, putting Jacinta down. "Are you asking me to marry you?"

"Well, er, I know who you are. I'm nothing like that. But I love you so much. I must say so! Yes, yes. Of course I want to marry you."

"And," she demanded, looking stern. "Do you think that's how it's done?"

She looked so wonderful, standing there facing him with her hands on her hips. She was so beautiful, tall and proud, like the Queen she would become.

Hakeem couldn't help himself, he dropped to his knees. He took one of Elena's hands in both of his, and kissed it. He looked up at her with adoration.

"My Lady, I loved you since I first met you. When I thought you would die, my heart almost stopped. You are the most beautiful lady I have ever seen. I know I can't offer much. I should not ask for more than what you have given me already.

"Married or no, you will always have my heart. I have no right to ask for such an honour but, will you marry me?"

Hakeem was appalled, he must be mad to ask such a thing. He had shamed her, she had to refuse.

But Elena let out a loud "whoop" and pulled him up into a hug. "Yes! Yes! I will marry you … in front of all these witnesses. I don't care what the elf court says, you will be my husband and I want to have your babies!"

Jacinta squealed and ran to give Elena a hug. Omar surged forward. The Gypsies let out loud cheers. What a celebration, three adoptions and a wedding.

One of the Gypsy women came forward to offer to loan her a proper dress. What a ragtag princess I am to become, Elena thought. I am now to be married in a Gypsy ceremony, as a Gypsy, in a borrowed dress whilst on the run from my enemies. And she was the happiest elf princess in the whole world!

The Gypsies were hurrying to make the preparations for the feast tomorrow. Elena gave her fiancé a long lingering kiss and smiled into his face.

"Hakeem, you have made me the happiest girl in the world. So, I am to be wife of a Captain!"

Hakeem coughed. Jacinta reminded Hakeem loudly it was time to explain his status to Elena. Elena looked back at her fiancé, confused.

Hakeem looked deeply embarrassed. He was a captain that was true. No, when he returned, he didn't need to beg for his old job back. He was to be promoted to a full commander.

"A full commander, that's wonderful!" Elena was absolutely thrilled "You know when I first met you, I thought you were a troop leader. You haven't told me anything. Then Myriani told me you had made captain. At your age and an orphan, I was so proud of you.

"But a full commander! You need feel no shame in my court! Can you get us good seats when this new warlord is presented for the first time?"

Hakeem coughed, colouring. "I don't think he's so interesting, really it's all overdone."

Elena looked at Hakeem as if she was seeing him for the first time.

Hakeem, jealous?

She had heard so much on her travels about the great and powerful new leader of the desert tribes. Much of his reputation, but not his identity, was widely known. She would be Queen one day. She just had to meet him.

Jacinta was having trouble keeping a straight face. "I'm sure you wouldn't think very much of the Warlord at the moment. Besides, you have already met him."

Omar and Daniel looked like they had both swallowed something the wrong way.

"What do you mean?" replied Elena, considering. "I'm sure the only desert mercenary I have met is Hak … HAKEEM!" She screamed, angrily.

"Oh Lord!" At that precise moment, Hakeem remembered something desperately urgent he had to attend to, at the other end of the Gypsy camp!

What Hakeem hoped to achieve by running was unclear. He was in a total panic. He felt terrified by just how much trouble he was suddenly in.

He was still not in full condition, but Elena was, and few can outrun an elf. Elena felt like calling for her bow, but this seemed just an overreaction.

Only just.

"YOU LYING DOG!"

The Gypsies could not contain their amusement. Proposal only just accepted, and she already had started. This new 'sister' was certainly a spitfire! Look at him run, and he's such a big one.

Hakeem desperately cried out to a crowd of Gypsy men, "Help me, brothers!" as he dodged past.

They couldn't contain their laughter. Not only did they not block Elena's passage but they opened up for her and cheered her on. Soon Hakeem was bailed up against a wagon, facing five foot eleven of furious elf!

"Elena, I never lied to you," he said, trying to back up, but prevented by the Gypsy wagon. "I just d-didn't get around to telling you!"

"It's the same thing!" Elena was furious. "You let me agree to marry you and you haven't told me anything!"

By this stage, Jacinta had caught up, panting. "Tell her the rest!"

Elena looked at Jacinta then rounded angrily on Hakeem; she couldn't look more furious. "Yes, tell her the rest!"

Hakeem looked puzzled. "There isn't any more, is there?"

"Oh," Jacinta countered. "What about being a paladin?"

"Oh that!" Hakeem said, watching Elena anxiously.

"Yes just that!" Elena stamped her foot. "What's a paladin?"

"It's a bit complicated," Hakeem said hurriedly, completely flustered. "You know how I love you, please don't be angry.

"Jacinta help me, I'm not very good at talking about myself."

Elena turned to Jacinta. "Well, you're right about one thing, anyway. I'm not impressed at all by the stupid warlord! Next he'll tell me he has a title and lands!" She laughed but stopped, seeing Hakeem's reaction.

He was turning a deep crimson with embarrassment and was trying to avoid meeting her gaze, his mouth was opening and closing but no words were coming out.

"Oh that silly thing," he managed hoarsely.

He didn't have a chance to say more. Elena linked arms with Jacinta, turned her back on him and stalked off, her nose in the air. Hakeem stood there, a picture of misery. He had just set the record for broken betrothals. As the pair walked back, with Hakeem miserably trailing behind, the Gypsy King motioned them over.

"It seems we have some serious matters to consider before we go ahead with the arrangements."

Members of his 'court' were filtering back in.

"I heard the names that were used. If you give false names, we don't question but by law you must reveal your true identity if it has a bearing on the running of this camp. In this, I judge you in breech." Hakeem and Elena looked very chastened.

"But first," he continued "I overheard you. Hakeem lied to you, his betrothed, about his circumstances." He looked at Elena. "Is this true?"

Elena was still very angry. "It most certainly is!"

"So," the King considered. "He overstated his rank or financial circumstances. This is a serious matter."

"No!" Elena said, wondering how to explain this, "Nothing like that."

The King looked shocked. "He is married!" he shot a look of pure disgust, at the miserable figure of the tribesman.

"No, no!" Elena cried. "I agreed to marry him thinking he had a minor rank. He commands a force almost as big as my own! I agreed to marry him thinking I was part of a great destiny and he was a simple man, well not a simple man but, you know. I find his own people believe he has been sent by their God to lead in the terrible times coming.

"I agreed to marry him thinking he was a pauper. He is richer than I am in my own name."

"Darling, I did say I had money…"

"Shut up, Hakeem." Elena said out of the corner of her mouth.

"Yes shut up, Hakeem," the King agreed.

He pondered the facts for a few minutes more. "I was happily married for forty blessed years until my dearest passed away last winter. From this experience, I know exactly what must be done. What a fool! Why he must apologise immediately, and make it up to you!"

Elena looked smug.

"Do you still want to marry this man?"

"Of course!" Elena looked shocked. "For a start, I haven't nearly finished with him over this, and you couldn't trust such as him by himself, could you? Besides, I love him more than anything."

"We'll my Lady, he's a lucky man," the King sighed and shook his head, as if in disbelief at Hakeem's undeserved fortune.

Hakeem himself was looking like he had just had a reprieve from the death sentence. Silly, Elena thought, of course I was going to forgive him.

"And," the King continued, "it's obvious to me that the great Warlord of the desert tribes needs someone to keep him out of trouble."

For a man, he really does seem to understand, Elena thought.

The prime source of Hakeem's troubles since he first laid eyes on his lovely lady didn't occur to Elena, just at that moment.

"Now for the other matter," the King continued. "Our guests are not as they seem, which of course is not unusual or even unexpected." There was laughing amongst the Gypsies, but the travellers were looking tense. What was going to happen?

"Firstly Hakeem, it comes as no great surprise. News has already reached us of his great love for his Romani daughter and now we have seen it is so.

"You are a fine man, and we are pleased to have you as a father of our niece. You are great amongst your people. We cannot demand you submit to our tribe to have honour here. I release you from your promise to join our tribe, as an honorary member."

"No, King, if you will still have me," Hakeem insisted loudly. "I love Jacinta. You have offered me a great honour. I would be proud to join with her family." The King and the other Gypsies smiled, and many murmured in appreciation. They were very pleased.

"And to you, Great Lady, you will be a queen of the elves. Through your love of this Romani girl you are prepared to humble yourself. You are judged worthy, as if there could be doubt. You are also released from your promise."

Elena stepped forward also, and her voice rang out in Romani, every inch the queen she would become. "No, King of the Gypsies. I will be queen, and can't give any oath that counts against this duty. But I hereby give my pledge, I will do all I can to prevent persecution of the Romani. I would be proud to be seen as a member of your tribe. Tomorrow I do two things that I wish more than anything else, and I plan to do this under Romani law. One is to marry this foolish man I love so much.

"The second is to proclaim, as loudly as I can, my love for this girl. Long she has been my daughter in my heart. Now I have your permission, tomorrow I declare and demand that both elf and Romani recognise her as my beloved daughter!"

A mighty shout and cheering went up and people gathered around to congratulate them and give them their best wishes.

Elena saw Jacinta freeze as if in pain. She took the Gypsy girl in her arms and kissed her, why she was pale and shaking!

"Don't worry, meli (honey), it's me, Elena! I love you."

But something was seriously wrong with Jacinta, and the celebration was starting to die down in confusion. Jacinta was staring into the distance. "Do you know who I am? It's tomorrow, you will adopt me. Do you know what I am?"

Elena looked at Hakeem in alarm, the girl looked so strange. "Why darling, don't worry, we love you. It doesn't matter what your life was before. Hakeem and I will never let anyone hurt you. You won't be involved in any politics. You won't be my heir, except for the small holdings my mother left.

"Jacinta! Don't look so frightened!"

"And so," Jacinta continued just as strange. "I'm not to be frightened. Well, I am. You say I won't be involved in anything. Can't you see it? It's tomorrow, don't you see?"

"I …Oh, Great mother!" Elena simply collapsed.

One minute she was standing, holding Jacinta's hand, the next moment she had fainted. She was being helped on the ground by a Gypsy woman.

Confusion broke out. The King was starting to doubt the sanity of these strange travellers. Omar threw his head back to stare up to the heavens, wrenching at his beard with both hands. He gave a great cry. "Oh Great God! By Lord Apollōn, it cannot be!"

Hakeem and Daniel looked at their companions in confusion.

"Can someone tell me what's going on?" the King and Hakeem cried, in unison.

Elena propped herself up, she was looking down but as she started to say the words, the hairs on Hakeem's body rose. He felt an awful sense of forebode, he motioned to Jacinta who crept up. He lifted her into his arms and held her tight, as if to protect her from what was to come. She was trembling and her heart was racing.

It was the words of the ancient Prophecy!

"Stranger yet is her daughter, brave little warrior. So wise and yet so young; her blood flows not from the land of the great tombs. The blind will not see, the deaf will not hear, wise fools will not understand. Her wisdom will awaken magic new and old. The family will bear witness to her becoming."

"Hakeem, she is wise! Her blood does not flow from the land of great tombs … can't you see? She's not from Aígyptos! Her family will bear witness … the date is tomorrow!

"I will present my daughter to my family and the world tomorrow!"

Tears were streaming down Elena's cheeks, as she climbed up to hug Jacinta.

"Do you still wish to do this, knowing what you do?" Jacinta asked her.

"In my heart you are already my daughter, no matter what happens. But I think it is I who should ask you Jacinta. Will you go through with this now, knowing what it means?"

Jacinta felt dizzy. "Elena my mother and Hakeem my father, to be your daughter I have no doubts. Think on all I am, a poor Romani girl and an orphan. Two wonderful parents, this is more than I deserve.

"But then who you two really are, I lose the meaning again and again, excuse me. I just see you as yourself. I can't see you as great, no, that's not true, you are great, I know that. But great leaders and part of a great destiny, it's too much for my imagination.

"You are born for greatness, but not me! I am a simple Gypsy girl and I'm scared! This cannot mean me!

"With all my heart I wish to be a paladin, did you not know? I knew my father had a great task. I never thought for a minute … How could something like that come to me?

"And yet, already, it has come! So soon, and what a task I am given! Too help save the elves and their magic!

"We three, our coming together is no accident. We are caught up in a fate set out in ancient times. I will face my fate with whatever courage I can. I will do whatever I am asked if it is within my small strength to do, but I'm still so small and so young."

Hakeem and Elena joined in hugging and kissing their daughter with pride. Jacinta was not the only one feeling confused and overwhelmed.

"But, Hakeem's not part of the prophecy!'' Elena said, distressed. "He doesn't have any ancient royal elf blood flowing in him." She looked at Hakeem, who shook his head.

"Does he not?" Jacinta countered. "Did you note Hakeem's role at the wedding? Myriani is the widow of Hakeem's blood brother. Myriani told me her husband's full name: Elwan the Grey. When Djorn and his sons were killed, the ancient line failed."

"You are a surviving blood brother to the dead royal line of the Western Royal Elves?" Elena gasped and looked at Hakeem incredulously. "Do you intend to tell me nothing?"

She softly uttered the ancient words. "When hope fails, he comes; father and lover, the greatest among great warriors. The dark man in whom shines the great light. Dead blood of the dolphin flows still within him. His sword is like no other, bearing ancient runes of power.

"It's him! He was right in front of me all this time!" She kissed and hugged Hakeem fiercely, tears running down her cheeks.

Hakeem who thought he would be in trouble, looked pleased but confused.

Elena thought about those who had died and was surprised her thoughts included the young assassin boy. "All those people … all those people who died, was it all for nothing?"

"Why that had to be, I cannot say, it is Karma," Jacinta said firmly.

Omar saw everyone automatically looking to Jacinta to answer the riddle, unanswered for a thousand years. That would be her role, he realised.

The Gypsies waited patiently to find out what was happening. again Jacinta took on the role. It took a long time to tell it all.

At the end, Djordji addressed his important guests. "Well I can see we are witness to great events. To host your wedding in our humble surrounds, or to humble our great guests by adopting them into a Romani tribe, would only be an affront, you must wait for better surrounds," he concluded firmly.

Hakeem and Elena both cried out, "No!" in desperate protest.

Again Jacinta explained to all, "Don't you see? Our being here is no accident. There are certain things that have to happen in this very way and it has to happen here!

"My adoption has to be witnessed by my family. It is you, my people, who are appointed to witness the union. I quote the ancient words: 'The Eldest and the Youngest must unite to awaken the glory. Only then can you stand and not be washed away by the great tide. Only then can the greatness begin again.'

"This isn't about re-establishing the Elvish Empire. Here Hakeem, show them your sword." There was a gasp as he drew Mir and passed it to the King.

"Hakeem and Elena would never be allowed to marry otherwise. You have given permission; they don't see being joined to my family of Romani as humbling. They see it as an honour.

"This is the start of something new. The elves call themselves eldest but they tried to remain masters. I think humans are referred to as the children of the elves, only the ancients know the truth of that.

"So we are to unite. The elves are the eldest and wisest in some ways but not all. They no longer have the strength to face whatever is coming alone. Only in a true union with humans will they become great again.

"The future Queen of the elves offers, for a short period, to be your subject. What better gesture? My King! My people! We are offered an alliance with the elves!" She raised her voice loudly. "Not as servants, but as equals. Each contributing what they have. Now, what do you say?"

A great cheer rang out and all present crowded forward to hug, kiss and congratulate the three. The King smiled when the uproar settled somewhat. "Just what I said before, leave any bargaining to the young one!" They all laughed.

* * *

It was evening and Elena had gone off somewhere.

Hakeem wouldn't see her before the wedding. He was negotiating the cost of the celebrations, and the King was absolutely determined to refuse any money. It was a most unusual way for a Gypsy to treat outsiders.

The King was also insisting Hakeem join the Gypsy caravan for the trip to Karsh. The search was for five travellers. Omar and Daniel could safely move on separately: two monks in a steady stream of pilgrims would not be noticed. Hakeem would be back to being a tribesman, allowed to join the travellers as an extra sword. Jacinta would blend in immediately.

After that, it would be easy to hide Elena.

Hakeem said he didn't want to bring trouble on to the Gypsies to which the King only smiled.

"Trouble? Now you will see what it is like to have Romani as family. Besides, you will not take these two girls, who are also mine, into such danger. You will obey me!"

Hakeem gave up and nodded in acceptance, smiling broadly. Then he looked deep into Djordji's eyes. "Never I pledge, ever, will I forget your kindness, my King of the Gypsies."

Omar had come up to Jacinta with a few questions, before she left to help with Elena's preparations. "Well, you three are certainly destined to be an odd family, three extraordinary people," he said smiling. "But what about seeking the eldest, the deepest, and the last, and then there is that key?"

"I think that will be part of my task," Jacinta said. "The elves lost the most powerful items of their magic. Their greatest prophet planned for them to fail.

"They had lost their wisdom in arrogance; and, yes, in fear of humans. Thye couldn’t last like that and I think a later fall would be more terrible. I don't know what the full consequences would have been. I suspect there would be no chance of union and recovery.

"We also have to find out what is happening to the elves. Why they are fading, before it is too late. The elves haven't found the answer, despite searching for two thousand years. It seems impossible, but we have to have trust a way will be shown.

"I have decided not to worry about it tonight. There will be time and more for worrying soon enough, I'm sure. To unite with the humans, the elves have to lose their arrogance, which will be my mother's job, which is why she has been through the experiences she has.

"Humans were not ready to take over when the Empire of the Western Elves fell. We are ready now, but only if we unite with the elves. That was the plan, only together will we be strong enough to face whatever is to come.

"Hakeem's job is obvious. " She smiled. "I think he will be good at it! And we do not know yet what we are to face. Everything tells me that it will threaten to overwhelm us all."

Omar marvelled at the Gypsy girl. So young, new to the order, yet he had no doubt he was looking at the next Paladin. He needed to talk to the Grand Abbot, formalising her role as an apprentice. She was being trained by the best.

Just now, though, she was a young girl excitedly waiting for a wedding, a homecoming and joining with her family.

As Jacinta was walking away, she saw Daniel waiting to one side in the darkness. As she went up to him, he greeted her shyly. "Congratulations, you are to be famous. I don't think I'm ever destined for anything."

Daniel idealised Jacinta, who had overtaken him in almost everything. Soon the journey would end: His three friends were destined for greatness, even Omar … but Daniel?

Jacinta could not see his face clearly in the darkness. "I don't know what destiny will bring you it's true, but you know something?"

"What?" Daniel asked.

Jacinta moved closer, grabbed him gently and gave him a lingering kiss on the lips. "You will always be a very special friend to me." She kept her face close, so he could see her smile.

His heart felt like a bird taking flight!

"You know," she whispered. "If you like, some of the new wedding dances involve man and woman, boy and girl. I have had offers," she said vaguely. "But if you're willing, we can agree to dance most together."

"I will dance with you," Daniel said, feeling absolutely elated. "Let no one else try, or they will answer to me!"

"I would like to dance with you, Daniel," Jacinta said softly, smiling at him. She gave him a light kiss on the forehead and was gone. At that moment, Daniel would have thrown himself off a cliff for Jacinta.

 

Chapter 24: An Impossible Dream, and a Gypsy Wedding

It was a dream, a wonderful, impossible dream and soon he must wake.

Elena hadn't said she would marry him. He wasn't waiting with Daniel, Omar and his new Gypsy friends for her to come.

He felt weak and dizzy with anxiety. His heart was thumping.

Jacinta came first. It jerked Hakeem back into reality, and he almost fainted. She walked slowly, shyly but with great pride, carrying a small posy of flowers. She looked so pretty in a bright crimson and yellow Gypsy dress, braided hair decorated with blue ribbons.

And then, behind her, there was the most beautiful girl in the world! Elena, Princess of the Eastern elves couldn't be marrying him. He could hardly breathe; he couldn't see through a sheen of tears. She came and stood next to him and took his hand, his hand was sweaty and trembling. He let go, for a minute, to wipe his palm on his trousers. Then they knelt together before Djordji.

"Relax, I'm not that horrible to marry, am I?" Elena whispered.

Horrible? He was the luckiest man on earth.

Djordji called out in a mighty voice. "Today, we celebrate a wedding and three adoptions. This in itself is a great cause for celebration but here we make history. Here on this happy occasion, great events unfold." At each pause a mighty cheer erupted.

"Before me kneels Elena, soon to be the Queen of the Eastern Elves and Hakeem, a great warrior, soon to be the Warlord of the desert tribes. Not only that, they make up the two of the three foretold in ancient Prophecy, and the other one is our daughter, Jacinta!

"Common people curse us, accuse us and sneer at us but here the greatest people in all Anatolē and beyond have come amongst us, they join us and they humble themselves.

"I, Djordji offer to adopt these great people into my tribe, does anyone object?"

Pandemonium broke out! There was clapping and cheering, and some started to shout, dance, and play drums and other musical instruments.

At best, Gypsy celebrations were unruly affairs, and getting his tribe to hold themselves back from the celebrations for a formal part was like trying to hold back wild horses. Gypsy celebrations were unforgettable, but not because of any formality.

Djordji re-established sufficient order amongst most of them to proceed with the second part, the marriage.

Gypsies held marriage and family almost above all else; it was a duty to one's tribe. One did not truly come of age until married. There were usually complex negotiations and celebrations beforehand and then frenzied celebration after.

But the formal ceremony in itself was simple; a declaration itself was all that was required.

Elena pricked her thumb and put a drop of her blood on a small square of bread; still kneeling she placed some salt in her lap. Hakeem took the bread and some of her salt and ate the bread. Then it was Elena's turn as Hakeem took a square of bread and pricked his thumb...

Then Omar stepped up.

He called on Djordji to present Elena as if he was her father. He used both words from the service to Apollōn and also to the Great Earth Mother. Then he asked Hakeem whether he was willing to take Elena as his wife, to love her, to support her and to honour her.

Hakeem took a shaky breath and opened his mouth … and croaked!

He tried again … and managed to croak again! The guests roared with laughter.

Eventually he managed, "Of course I will," in strangled tones with tears streaming down his cheeks. This was followed by Elena in clear, beautiful Romani, "I will!"

Then there was supposed to be a symbolic kiss. But Hakeem clung to his beautiful bride, he couldn't let go. It felt like if he let go, she would be taken from him.

He enfolded her in his arms and kissed her on the mouth, the cheek and then her hair, he laid his head on her shoulder crying. He kept saying, "I just can't believe it, I love you so much." Elena held on for a few moments, and then she too, dissolved in happy tears and clutched at her tribesman. They were oblivious to all around them.

Omar and Jacinta were trying to separate them to finish the ceremony, without success, and Djordji was trying to attract everyone's attention, without any luck at all.

Soon Romani men and women with their keen sense of fun were pretending to try to separate them, sometimes in teams of two or three.

"I'm a strong man and I can't pull them apart!"

"We all can't do it!"

The music had started again and people were starting to sing wedding songs and some were getting up to dance.

Omar gave up. He quickly tied the cord between Elena's right wrist and Hakeem's left before the pair could disappear under a small but noisy pack of Gypsies. Elena and Hakeem were still clinging to each other, with tears running down their cheeks.

Omar sprung to his feet and nodded to Djordji who joined him in saying, "In the presence of these witnesses, under authority granted by Apollōn and the Great Earth Mother and according to Romani law, we now pronounce you man and wife."

"As if there could be any doubt," yelled Jacinta from the grass. Whether she was tripped over by the crowd or fell down laughing wasn't clear.

Then, there was no holding back the Romani!

Jacinta's adoption would be held after an hour's unplanned intermission.

In hindsight, this was inevitable.

No food or drink would be allowed yet, but this didn't stop the Gypsies from partying. Music, dancing and singing was like food or oxygen to these people. Most brides would be mortified if her wedding degenerated into such chaos. Elena knew exactly how the Romani married, and she loved it. She was running for her life; she didn't need a church service.

To Elena, she was already married; she loved this wonderful, foolish man. She wanted them each to have a chance to make a binding commitment, but more she needed something legal. She had to prevent her father's royal court from trying to forcibly separate them.

Her marriage to this wonderful man, the adoption of their gorgeous Romani daughter was, she now realised, foretold millennia ago and now it was formally recognised by these wonderful new friends. No, it was recognised by her wonderful new family!

She was loved! Her heart was bursting.

If the Gypsies didn't make a fuss over a simple piece of formality, they were about to make a fuss unlike anything Elena had ever seen. From the youngest to the eldest, they would all join in.

She didn't miss the beautiful solemnity of a royal elf wedding, but if she did, she could have no complaints about what followed; the celebrations ran for three days.

There are no other people on this earth, absolutely none at all, that can party like the Gypsies!

* * *

Elena was taking a break in the often-frenzied celebrations. At first, she had to lead Hakeem around by the hand. He was in such a complete daze. Slowly he came back to himself, but at first he couldn't stop grinning like a fool.

Now, he was becoming more relaxed and confident. He followed her lead, but was looking very proud as they moved amongst the guests. He was starting to enjoy the party, though he was hardly drinking, he didn't want to be drunk on his wedding night.

This was difficult to avoid, everyone wanted to toast the couple. Hakeem and Elena carried a wineskin of watered wine each and pretended to drink. Otherwise, they would have both been unconscious by now.

The Gypsies, apart from Djordji, were poor, but they always gave what they could at weddings. Hakeem would expect them all to be his guests, so he must pay! Djordji was the father of the bride so he wished to pay!

Was Hakeem marrying his sister?

Anyway, the "bride price" curiously amounted to exactly every coin that Hakeem was carrying. How did Djordji find that out? Hakeem himself had no idea, after he left money with the Shayvists, Jacinta shouldn't know … but someone did.

The generous cash gifts that Djordji now organised with his tribe seemed to return Hakeem's money, less a face-saving compromise, which allowed both of them to contribute.

Elena was in a colourful pleated pink and blue dress. It was intricately embroidered and sewed with silver coins. As a top, she had a yellow blouse with puffed sleeves and a large crimson shawl. She wore a gilt pendant (on loan to her) which signified engagement. On her feet she wore sandals decorated with beads. Being married as a Gypsy, she wore no face paint.

Traditionally she would have long bushy hair tied up, which she would unbraid prior to being allowed to wearing a married woman's diklo. This couldn't possibly work at all with Elena's hair, but no one seemed to notice.

The cord linking them was long and allowed them to dance. Hakeem looked suspiciously like he was going through one of his training exercises. As he couldn't dance at all, this would not be too surprising, but no one seemed to mind.

The feast was huge! There was plenty of wine and filtered bread-mash beer. They had a large open fire over which whole pigs were roasted, as well as lambs, chickens and a goose. There were huge wooden platters of every Romani dish imaginable with lots of breads, wild cabbage, goat cheese, nuts, fruit, and of garlic, onions and spices, honey-cakes and the usual pastries and Gypsy sweets.

But the most memorable part of the celebrations were the Gypsies themselves. Most of them could do other work, but almost all were accomplished entertainers and those who weren't should have been. They travelled the breadth of the land and learned from other travellers and entertainers. So they knew the songs and dances of many places, as well as being great musicians, jugglers, acrobats, tricksters, fortune tellers and so on.

Whenever they met like this, they were at play. The party was a chaos of Gypsies everywhere, spontaneously combining to have fun in numerous ways. There were men trying the exciting dancing of the far northern steppes. Some women copied the breathless female dancing of Iberia, stomping their feet and clicking their fingers as they circled.

A few women tried to copy the seductive female dancing of Babylon (without disrobing) but then a group of older men joined them with great hilarity.

A musician would start; others would join him, and then dancers, or the other way round.

Often they were inventing something on the spot, or simply showing each other how to do something … or practicing, but also there were clear favourites, where everyone throughout the camp would quickly rush over and join in a huge riotous group dance.

The Gypsies had their own music and songs. They could make one laugh, make one weep or make one uncontrollably want to dance. Gypsies, like elves, celebrated life itself, but very differently. Theirs was an earthy, strong sweaty lust for life!

They also played a few of their sad soulful melodies were very beautiful but the tinge of sadness wasn’t out of place even in this celebration. The Romani, even in the midst of their greatest joy, remember how life can be so difficult for them.

For the older Romani, this gives their joy its greatest depth.

 

Chapter 25: The Hunt for Elena, the Bādiyah, and Wādī Karsh

Joining with the Gypsy caravan slowed them to a walking pace. It took them five days to travel the ancient coastal mountain pass (the Kilisian gates) to Tarsos, the heavily fortified city on the coastal lowlands of Kilikia, the last major outpost of Anatolē they would pass.

The Kilisian gates are narrow and famous for bandits and ambush, but the travellers were very secure now, travelling in a large group of three hundred Gypsies.

It was just as well. There was little choice of their route now and the search for Elena has moved south. Without the Gypsies, Elena and her four companions would have been caught and killed.

After the fertile coastal region of Kilikia, there was a pass through the Amanos, the last mountain range they had to cross.

It led them into a region of rolling hills, wheat and barley just south of Anatolē. The leader of the fourth large band of armed men had just made what he thought was a clever arrangement with Djordji when the Gypsy King rode back to where Hakeem waited.

"It seems that now there is a Greek man somewhere north of here that wants to meet my newest daughter," Djordji chuckled. "It is good to know at least one of us is popular."

"Do you know how much they are offering?" Hakeem's expression was grim. He hoped one day to meet this man.

"He insults us!" Djordji said in mock outrage. "A trifle, a single heavy Gold Babylonas Talanton, I was hoping to get ten times that much before I betray you both."

Gods in the holy mountain! What was being offered was 60 kg in gold!

A meagre silver talent was enough to hire a dozen tradesmen for a year.

Equal to two light gold talents (in the shape of a duck) or twenty talents of silver, a heavy gold talent (in the shape of a lion) was enough to make every man, woman and child in the Romani camp fabulously wealthy. All they had to do was murder Elena.

She was surrounded by a group that is often seen as nothing more than a group of thieves and liars. Djordji joked of being offered ten times as much, but it wouldn't matter. The roads could be paved with gold for all the good it would do. The sun would stand still in the heavens, before any of the Romani would betray Elena, accidently or deliberately, from the smallest child up.

Those who thought such a thing was possible didn't understand the Romani. They are fiercely loyal and used to persecution and keeping secrets. Elena was now one of them, and they were fiercely proud of her. Elena would not, could not, be as safe in the middle of a great army.

Djordji nodded to the crowds on the road. "I have never seen so many headed for Karsh. We would have been in great danger on the desert road with its normal sparse traffic. You can thank your abbot when you see him for me. Now we will be only part of a great flood of people."

Hakeem had wondered why the Abbot would do such an extraordinary thing as announcing Hakeem's election before he had even arrived in Karsh.

Now it seemed obvious. The Abbot knew they would be running for their lives. Without the announcement, there would be no Gypsy caravans and too few other travellers to hide amongst.

They would have been dead.

The Abbot had absolute trust in their God, as of course did Hakeem. Nonetheless, Hakeem couldn't help but think that he had really better not fail whatever tests they had for him.

If he did, there would be large crowds of seriously vengeful people with his name on their lips.