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

In quick time, the Parmenion had uncontested control of the Bósporos. He had Byzántion and across the Bósporos he had her two wealthy sister cities, plus the wide fertile peninsula that formed the Bithynian shore of the Bósporos.

It was a solid base from which to launch his Anatolē campaign. Yet, instead of pausing, in less than a week he had taken the poorly fortified harbour of Astakos, cutting the city off from supply and reinforcement by sea.

The speed of the enemy advance was terrifying.

Nikolaos had been given the task of hurrying one thousand militia from the inland city of Helicore to reinforce Astakos. It was all they could spare at such short notice. The men he was given were no match for the Makedónes in the field, but you don't need prime troops to reinforce a garrison.

Without them the city would not last ... but with them? It seemed little more than a gallant gesture for their good friends of Astakos.

Bithynia, including the region of the Greek maritime coast, was named after the ancient tribe living in the hilly and wooded hinterland. They were ruled by their hereditary prince, Boteiras.

The Bithynians would have no trouble defending their highland country. They were able and clever fighters in mountains and hills and had several strongholds, the greatest of which was the powerful fortress-city of Prusa.

But they would be no match for the Makedónes in the open plains of the coastal regions, so they could do little to help their Greek neighbours.

Helicore, Nikolaos's home, would be safe. Helicore, which was named after the ancient sun-God had tarted life as an ancient Skythian fort and was well constructed for a siege. It was built on an island in the middle of a freshwater lake, Lake Ascanius, and was only linked to the land by a causeway.

While it was nominally independent, it paid tribute to Boteiras who guarded the roads and surrounding villages from bandits and Skythian raiders.

Now this money was proving well spent. Before Nikolaos left, Spadines one of Boteiras's senior stratēgoi (generals) arrived at the head of a large force. He had come to take charge of the local defence.

For the Bithynians, Helicore gave them a handy well-fortified forward base and a buffer between themselves and the invading Makedónes.

Spadines looked grim as he viewed the relief force the citizens of Helicore had assembled for Astakos. He didn't say much but it was easy to guess what he was thinking.

If Nikolaos was unsure, the size of the escort he sent would have left little doubt what he expected them to face, it was almost as big as Nikolaos's … and it was all veterans.

And now, if they met anything serious, Nikolaos wondered if it would be enough.

Ardys, the commander of the Bithynian peltastae, and Bas, the commander of the Bithynian horse, were old friends of Nikolaos.

The trio had fought Kimmerioi raiders together. Nikolaos would have given all he owned to have the older men join him in the defence of Astakos.

He was leading his men towards a rise when Bas rode back to caution him. "Tell your men to be quiet, Nikolaos. Astakos should be visible from the next valley and we don't know what we'll find."

Bas turned and trotted his horse up to wait at the crest of the hill while Nikolaos's men trudged wearily on. As Nikolaos caught up with him, Bas sat his horse, silent and grim.

He merely nodded wordlessly to the distance. Across the wooded valley Nikolaos could clearly see a thick plume of smoke rising from the beleaguered city.

He was too late!

"I suggest we make our way a little down into the valley. There are some fields where we can muster properly while we wait for our scouts," Bas advised, watching the smoke. His face was expressionless. "Perhaps there is a way into the city."

Nikolaos nodded silently. Yes, let's hope for that, he thought bleakly. Perhaps the legendary Parmenion would overlook something ever so basic in his siege of the city.

As he was ordering his men to form up in the open area, the two Kimmerioi scouts galloped up in haste to report to him.

"My Lord," said one of them in heavily accented Greek. "The walls are breeched and there is fighting in the streets. The defenders are few and poorly matched, and the fortifications were poor. I'm afraid the city is lost.

"The Makedónes have surrounded the city in force and are dug in. There is no way in. Even if you wanted to, you don't have the men to break through."

Nikolaos heard the news glumly. So easily and quickly another Greek city had fallen. After their forced march all they could do was turn around.

But there was more bad news. "Lord, they have set a trap for you. There is a force of the enemy watching this road. They have anticipated an attempt to relieve the siege overland. No doubt their scouts are watching us from the trees, even now."

Nikolaos and Bas involuntarily scanned the forest, but they could see nothing but trees.

"I think they can match what we have here, so I don't believe they will hesitate to attack," the scout continued. "I suggest you prepare yourself, Lord."

The Makedóne would have chosen their elite units to set the trap. No, Nikolaos thought bitterly, they certainly wouldn't be scared of him and his men.

How long had the enemy scouts been tracking him?

He glanced at Bas. "Should we make a run for it?"

Bas and Ardys both shook their heads.

"Those cursed flea-bitten bastards would love that. They would cut us down from the rear," Bas said grimly. "We must face them."

"We have come so far, it would be a shame not to fight," Nikolaos managed, though his smile was wan and his guts twisted in fear. "Let's show our enemies that springing a trap is not as easy as setting it."

For a moment he stared across the valley to the thick smoke rising in the distance. He was remembering pleasant visits to Astakos and his friendships there. The defenders were greatly outnumbered and their fortifications were poor. They were merchants and fishermen. They would have been better to surrender early, when Parmenion would be inclined to be merciful.

The defenders had been brave ... or perhaps they didn't understand what they faced. So they had fought, and the city would be punished. Parmenion would give his men free reign.

He thought particularly of a husband and wife he knew. They had three daughters, two hardly older than girls.

Now, instead of joining his friends in defence of their city, he and his militia were to fight for their lives, against elite Makedónes out in the open.

As he looked over the valley a thought came to him with surprising clarity.

It was such a clear and sunny day.

"The rest of coastal Bithynia would surely fall now," Ardys murmured.

Nikolaos nodded, staring over the valley. They were mercantile cities, wealthy but weak. Endless wars and now Philippos had brought the formerly great maritime cities of Hellás to their knees. So no longer was there protection from strong mother-cities and the nearby Lydoi had been in decline for a century.

Once Parmenion had conquered Bithynia though, his advance would come to a standstill, unless he got more men.

As long as Prince Boteiras held the hills and the forests, he could prevent Parmenion striking inland and Parmenion could scarcely follow the coast into Mysia and leave Prusa intact at his rear.

But Nikolaos, whose name meant "victory of the people", had more immediate problems than worrying about a future he was unlikely to see.

As the commander of the largest contingent, he was nominally in charge. There was no time to dig a trench or raise earthworks, so Nikolaos chose a small hillock in the field to make his stand. Nearby woodland may allow some to escape if things went badly.

If things went badly? Nikolaos, a veteran of the defence of Sardeis, had little doubt.

He had about two hundred Kimmerioi mercenaries, mounted archers, and the same number of infantry archers, but he wished for more. He also had two hundred of the excellent Bithynian heavy cavalry and three hundred of the Bithynian peltastae. All those were veterans but the central core of his force were militia.

His hoplitai stood, panting as much in fear as in exhaustion. They were frightened with good reason; at least they didn't have long to wait. He had just formed up his men when five hundred of the famous Makedóne Hetairoi (companion cavalry) thundered through the trees.

The enemy took up position at the opposite end of the meadow, waiting. Their role now was to prevent him getting away; if Nikolaos turned his back on them now they would charge and cut his men to pieces from the rear.

The Hetairoi had a lance almost twice as long as a standard cavalry lance and used it two handed. They had the discipline and teamwork that turned these cumbersome weapons into a lethal advantage in the field.

Then the Makedóne hoplitai trotted into sight, a forest of their sarissa (spears) reaching into the sky; there were perhaps twelve hundred in all with a further three hundred of their own peltastae.

Nikolaos had never fought against Makedónes; their sarissa were three times the height of a tall man and twice the length of his men's thoru. They also used it two handed, underarm. Both Makedóne cavalry and infantry relied on their long spears for defence as well as attack. They wore small shields, hung down their front on the left, for later use.

The Makedóne infantry started to march to the side and turn in tight formation. They chanted as they marched. They moved so fast and were so perfectly co-ordinated.

It was a terrifying sight, but Nikolaos was not here to be entertained by the finely honed skills of his enemy.

He nodded to the commander of the Kimmerioi mercenaries, who led his men down to harass the enemy formation, while Nikolaos turned to his men.

"Men of Helicore! Today we fight for our loved ones, our homes and our friends. Finally, we have the chance to show these filthy vermin that we are the men of Helicore! You came here to fight, now what do you say?"

His men took heart and started to yell and call insults to the enemy.

The Makedónes cavalry charged to scatter his Kimmerioi but the mercenary horse archers hardly paused in their rate of firing, as they dodged away in all directions from their slower opponents.

The standard Makedóne technique was for their phalanx to hold the enemy phalanx at bay with their sarissa hedge, while their mounted lancers circled around to attack the defenceless rear. It was called the hammer and anvil, their cavalry forming the hammer.

It had to be prevented at all costs.

Bas, the commander of the Bithynian horse, didn't need to be told what to do.

He smiled at Nikolaos sadly. "I think I really like spring the best of all seasons, today is so beautiful don't you think? If you live, Nikolaos, tell my family I fought bravely."

"Tell them yourself, curse you!" Nikolaos shouted back at him, appalled.

Bas shook his head. "Not this time, my friend."

Without pause, he nodded to his men and brought his spear around to face the enemy. "For Bithynia!" he yelled, kicking his horse.

It was Bas who led the charge. His men were outnumbered almost three to one by the superbly trained Makedóne Hetairoi. If the numbers were equal the Bithynian's skill would have allowed them to deflect the lances and attack at close range, but there were near to three points against each one of them with their shorter spears and shields.

The Bithynian horse seemed to melt as it met the Makedónes and collapse into an untidy pile of dead and dying men and horses. The few mounted Bithynians who survived to engage at closer quarters were being rapidly cut down.

The Bithynian peltastae had followed under the cover of Bas's charge, and were desperately straining to cover the distance. Now, while the Hetairoi were disposing of Bas's command the javelins of the peltastae and the arrows of the Kimmerioi were turned against man and horse and the Hetairoi began rapidly taking casualties.

The Makedóne peltastae jogged in to join the fight but too late. The Makedóne cavalry was being decimated and was forced to withdraw to regroup, leaving their peltastae trapped and outnumbered.

"Kill the bastards!" Nikolaos screamed madly.

It was then that the front five rows of Makedóne hoplitai lowered their points. A flute started, slowly at first. With the flute piping, the pace became faster and faster and their men chanted loudly in time. They charged in perfect drill formation.

There can be few sights more terrifying than a full sarissa spear-hedge running rapidly at you, dust being thrown up all around, the Makedóne battle song having turned into a wordless scream of hate.

For his men to have any hope, they had to keep their shield wall intact. When the forces collided, their shield wall shivered … and was breeched!

It was the beginning of the end.

The Makedónes continued to fight as a unit unreachable behind their spear hedge. Isolated Greek hoplitai were helpless against them. Nikolaos remembered screaming desperately to anyone near him to form up again. A few who were veterans struggled to join with him and then, everything went black.

* * *

Nikolaos felt he was at the bottom of a great well.

He shook his head weakly to clear it and was overcome by a blinding headache. For a moment he wondered where he was, all he could see was a red-yellow haze. As his vision cleared, he saw Ziaelas, the second-in-charge of the Bithynian peltastae, looking anxiously at him.

Nikolaos rolled over. "What happened?" he gasped faintly.

"Are you feeling alright, Lord?" Ziaelas asked.

Nikolas wasn't able to make an answer. He tried to get up but the world was spinning. His head was pounding. Everything was too bright and pulsing in time with his headache. He managed to get to his hands and knees and vomited weakly.

He gingerly felt the enormous bruise on his scalp; dry crusted blood had run through his hair.

Something hit me, was his brilliant conclusion.

His mind didn't seem to be working properly. His eyes were having trouble focusing. Am I alright? he thought. Of course, I'm alright! I feel splendid!

He managed to keep the comment to himself.

"What happened?" He tried again, his voice came as a croak.

"The Makedónes rolled over your position and slaughtered our infantry," Ziaelas informed him.

"Dead? My men? What, all my men?" Nikolas struggled to get his sluggish mind working. "Why aren't we dead as well?" Or are we?

"Well, sir, we won the battle, we drove them back."

Nikolas was gradually recovering. He had managed to sit hunched forward with his head in his hands but he wasn't up to looking around him yet.

"How many did we lose?" he whispered, trying to gather his wits.

"The foot archers caught it very badly. We haven't found any of them alive yet.

"There are two hundred of our hoplitai left standing. There's some scattered in the woods, perhaps some of the wounded can be saved. We haven't checked all the fallen. "

Great Gods on the mountain! Nikolas thought. Maybe three hundred or more hoplitai left, out of a thousand! He tried to look around, his vision was starting to clear but he still couldn't see much yet. "Bas?"

Ziaelas just shook his head. "Only ten of his cavalry survived. Three of those can still fight. The Kimmerioi horsemen lost about a quarter of their number. Ardys led our peltastae …" He left the sentence unfinished. "I have half my peltastae still standing."

Nikolas couldn't believe the older Bithynian leaders were dead. He had a flash of the agony it was going to be bringing the news to Bas's wife and children.

He struggled fully upright, moaning with the effort, and looked at Ziaelas a little stupidly. "We lost most of our men … how about the enemy?"

"Our phalanx hardly hurt the Makedóne hoplitai.

"Our peltastae and the Kimmerioi were cutting the Makedóne cavalry to pieces while Bas had them distracted. They sent their peltastae to help but their cavalry was forced to withdraw before they could join up. So their peltastae were caught alone between us and the Kimmerioi horsemen." Nikolaos nodded gingerly, he remembered that.

"Well, we almost wiped them out before the cavalry could regroup for another charge. It was too late. We finished their peltastae and had enough to best their cavalry. Only a third of their cavalry are left, though that's not counting some that were unhorsed. Without peltastae they have no missile troops and we could force their withdrawal.

"The Kimmerioi are playing hide and seek with the remains of their heavy cavalry which is trying to cover their withdrawal. I've never seen a cavalry like those barbarians. No one will ever say a bad word against them while I draw breath."

Well, we drove them back! Nikolaos thought sardonically.

We didn't make it to Astakos, and the city is lost.

We are almost wiped out. Between the Greeks and the Bithynians we have lost maybe twelve hundred men while the enemy had lost only half that.

But because the enemy retreated and we held the field, we technically won.

"Spare me from any more of such victories," he gasped, bitter at the irony.

When he could manage, he looked at Ziaelas. "We can't stop them, can we? The Makedónes … we can't win against them, can we? "

"No Lord, we can't," Ziaelas said simply. "We will be able to hold our strongest points for a time, but we can't beat the ones we have now. Soon more will come, many more, and then it will be over."

* * *

Refugees

It seemed that the warm days were coming earlier this season. It was fortunate for the refugees, Gyges the Bithynian decadarchos (sergeant) thought.

There wasn't much else for them to feel happy about.

He felt numbed by the enormity of it all.

The road to the Lydian port-city of Kios was choked with a flood of ragged people. In the harbour there were boats unloading more, sometimes for profit but mostly out of simple kindness.

The refugees kept crowding and crowding in, without let-up. The small city was being swamped. Their faces showed the same story: shock, fear, suffering and despair. It was so strange with this great throng of people that so many of them were silent.

The enemy's advance was so sudden and unexpected that many had little more than the clothes they stood up in. Most came on foot, carrying what they could. The luckier ones were pushing carts. Some even had chickens, a goat, a sheep or even a donkey.

Occasionally there was a horseman.

None amongst them knew what was really going on. Some said Chalkedon still stood and a mighty Lydian army was coming to its aid. Others insisted its walls had been breached and there was street-to-street fighting. Others were saying Chalkedon had already fallen and Astakos had surrendered without a fight.

Some thought the Makedónes were less than a day's march from Kios.

Gyges was fed up with shouting to people not to stop in Kios. The port city had no proper fortifications and was being abandoned.

He tried to send them on to Mysia, either Plakia or better yet further to Kyzikos which had a Troian garrison, but most ignored him.

Some simply sat down, dispirited and unbelieving.

One day, their city was vibrant and wealthy. Now they had lost all they had and they were fleeing for their lives.

Some turned up the road to Prusa despite the soldier's discouragement, hoping to get help and safety in the mountains. Others were desperately looking for family members or friends who had become separated in the panic.

In the meantime the last citizens of Kios were leaving, as the refugees flooded in. There were too many for him and his squad to control; at least he could prevent looting until he was recalled to Prusa.

Amongst the stragglers there were a few soldiers making their way from the fighting, some injured, some cut off from their units and some deserters. Those that were capable and willing he welcomed into his unit.

There were a few who no longer carried their weapons or their shields. They carried no visible wound, yet they would never fight again. He had seen it before, you could tell by their eyes. Amateurs mostly, hardly more than young boys, broken by the horror of it all.

"Please, Lord." He was pulled from his gloomy thoughts by a young girl, maybe twelve, her face was dirty but her dress was of good quality. She must have come from a wealthy family.

"Have you seen our families?"

She had a six-year-old boy held tightly by the hand. He looked more ragged than her. The boy's face was streaked with tears and dust, but he was just staring blankly. Gyges hadn't noticed them coming up to him through the sea of people.

Gyges had a granddaughter close to her age. He looked at her kindly.

"I'm sorry, maybe you and your brother will find them in Prusa."

He wasn't supposed to send anyone there. But the ships had brought news and Gyges knew. The Makedónes had met no effective resistance and would be in Kios within days. They were moving faster than was thought possible. Mysia was too far; the children would never make it.

"Oh, he's not my brother," the girl said with a smile at the old warrior. "His name is Linos and he came from a village near Astakos. That's where I'm from. He doesn't talk much. I'm helping him find his family ... My name is Ada."

Ada was a Karian name.

Amongst all the suffering he had seen, Gyges felt touched. He shook his head in wonder.

Ada was a Karian girl from a wealthy family, probably pampered, but amongst all the chaos she had adopted a peasant Greek child who had also lost his parents, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Perhaps it was.

"Have you two eaten?" he asked kindly.

Apart from some oranges and plums from an orchard, they hadn't eaten for days. Ada had had some money and a silver chain but they had been held up by bandits, renegade Makedónes, she thought.

She was lucky that all they did was steal her valuables. He thought.

He left his corporal in charge and led the two aside. He gave them some water and bread for the journey and wished them well. When the girl had led the little boy a little way along the road she turned and waved, smiling.

For so many years, that same image would keep coming back to Gyges. Each time he would wonder …

Whatever happened to Ada and that small Greek boy?

 

 

Chapter 5: Sunday with Aison and the Boys, Helios Arrives

"Jacinta!" Aison called. "You drive yourself, all the time. It's our day off."

Jacinta took a short run up and threw her javelin hard at the target.

"Hey, that was a great shot! How can you learn that fast? It's only been two weeks. But don't you ever stop?"

Jacinta grinned at Aison, her white teeth flashing against her tan complexion. She was panting and her white cotton pants and top was soaked with perspiration, her face was flushed from exercise. A ponytail failed to tame her curly black hair.

"Why, are you inviting me somewhere?" she teased, as she picked up a towel to wipe her face.

Aison, who was normally confident, felt uncharacteristically nervous. He blushed as she moved closer and looked up at him with those dark brown eyes.

"Some of us are going outside the gates, there's a fair on, do you want to come?" he asked hesitantly.

"Thank you, Aison, for thinking of me," Jacinta replied, pleased. "I would like that. Can you wait a little while I clean myself up?"

"Can I watch?" Aison teased.

"No!" Jacinta said, scandalised.

Aison laughed. Most of the boys had seen Jacinta washing herself with all the rest after training, but when they were training, he didn't think of her as a girl. At least he kept trying not to.

He didn't know why he liked Jacinta so much.

She was beautiful, but too young to have much in the way of the more interesting attributes of a female. Yet there was something about her, she was so unlike most girls. She was so confident, friendly and brave.

He didn't realise as he waited nervously outside the baths, that she was inside desperately trying to make herself pretty. She gave up the battle with her unruly hair and tied it back in its ponytail.

"We usually go to the docks later. Do you want to go for a swim, Jacinta?" Aison called out from outside the wash house as she was getting ready.

"I can't swim," Jacinta said, busy getting ready. "Besides, I don't have any clothes for swimming."

"People swim naked," said Aison with a grin.

"Aison! Are you trying to get me naked?" Jacinta called out from inside, laughing. "I don't have much for you to see yet."

"Jacinta, I have seen you naked, bathing after practice," Aison reminded her.

"Ah, but this is different!" Jacinta said, poking her head through the door, grinning.

Jacinta appeared as he hadn't seen her before. She was wearing a short white cotton dress, exquisitely embroidered in red stitching and tied at the waist by a red sash.

She looked so pretty, she had shapely legs and arms, muscular for a girl but nothing like a boy's. She carried a dagger but still looked small and vulnerable.

She shyly offered her hand and he took it, smiling. It made him feel good and strong. Soon they relaxed with each other and were chatting and enjoying the day.

"I still find it hard to think of you as the Jacinta!"

"Aison! Don't talk like that, or I'll go home! I'm just Jacinta, that's all, and don't you forget it."

Aison laughed. "Alright, alright! … Well, 'just Jacinta, that's all and don't you forget it', we are meeting some friends near the outer gate. You know all of them they are from our stichos (file). Do we have to call you 'just Jacinta' all day?"

Jacinta laughed and gave him a playful punch and skipped out of reach before he could reply.

As they made their way through the town, they saw many of the homes and shops were already boarded up. More were leaving, women and children or whole families; most on foot or pushing a cart, a few had a horse or donkey. Seeing this made it hard to hold to their festive mood.

"The people are frightened," Jacinta said quietly.

"They have good reason," Aison admitted grimly. "It's not just this time. It seems all we have had is one war after another. It's destroying us, my grandfather says. I suppose your father doesn't understand that."

"Do you think my father enjoys war?" Jacinta asked him, incredulous and angry.

Aison was a little taken back by the intensity of her reaction. "He's a great warrior, isn't he? He must live for war!"

"My father is a great man," Jacinta said, blushing. She sounded defensive even to herself. "But not because he's good at killing people. That doesn't make anyone great. He hates war.

"Do you know he never wanted to be a warrior? He wanted to be a religious monk. Well he is a monk of sorts, I suppose … a paladin."

"Hakeem … a priest!!" Aison laughed in astonishment. He had an image of a demonstration Hakeem had given. He was terrifying in his abilities.

"What sort of a priest would he be? Would he convert people with a sword in one hand?"

Jacinta laughed at the image. "Well the order is nothing like that, it never forces people. Though the monks I know can protect themselves and those in their care if attacked. Anyone who tried to push them around would have cause to regret it."

She thought of Omar.

"… Oh, I'm part of the same order," she finished, blushing shyly as she admitted it.

Aison laughed loudly. "Jacinta, I really hope never to get on the wrong side of your religion if Hakeem is one of your monks and you are a female novice."

Jacinta was looking at her feet and furiously blushing. Said like that, it did sound funny. She had to smile, but for the moment she felt at a loss at what to say. Aison caught her hand and gave her that smile of his that made her feel breathless and dizzy and pulled her on.

* * *

"There he is and Jacinta has come!" Thales, one of the younger boys, cried out excitedly.

"Jacinta! We're so glad you came."

There were all the boys from Aison's group, fifteen in all, and they crowded around excitedly to greet Jacinta while Aison hovered possessively nearby. Soon Jacinta was swept up with the group as the boys made their way through the gate to the outside markets.

The three town gates formed bottlenecks for the traffic in and out of the city. This one, like the others, had a pedestrian section on one side and a wider passage next to it for wagons and coaches to go through, in single file if they were big.

No one paid any attention to the order of flow.

There was a chaos of people and animals milling around and pushing past each other all trying to go at different speeds and directions. Some were even trying to stop in the middle and chat. The boys expertly weaved their way past, calling back and forward as they hurried through.

The gate house was huge, towering high above her. Jacinta would have liked to stay and study its fortifications but the Troian boys hardly gave it a second glance and hurried on. Inside and outside there were huge reinforced doors which were permanently kept open. There were also two heavy wooden portcullises at either end of the tunnels (massive heavy wooden lattices reinforced with iron). They were suspended by great chains and their points would dig into the ground when they were dropped in a siege.

Outside there was a very solid drawbridge over a deep dry ditch.

It was only after she had passed through that she could fully appreciate the gate house and the walls. Troia was more like a fortress than just a walled city. The city walls seemed impossibly thick and tall. The great stones were carefully fitted in an interlocking pattern but she knew they would have metal pins linking them for extra strength. She knew that the enormous stone blocks would only be on the inner and outer faces and top of the walls. Sandwiched between these would be rubble mixed with mortar to make a type of concrete fill.

It only took Jacinta a moment to quickly assess the fortifications, as her mother had taught her to do.

The outer wall sloping out had a generous supply of towers, crenulated battlements and narrow windows for archers. The three gate houses were like tiny fortresses in themselves, liberally supplied with murder holes (openings for shooting arrows downwards) and larger holes for oil and boulders.

"It's a strong fortress, isn't it?" Akhilleus, the boy second to Aison in charge, had noticed her staring.

Jacinta smiled. "Yes, it's very well made. My father told me that."

Most of the other boys had hurried ahead and were calling to them to hurry up. As Jacinta and Akhilleus hurried to catch the other boys, Jacinta stopped suddenly and almost stumbled. She was frozen for a moment, her mouth hung open and she was shaking her head in disbelief.

How could they let that happen?

Living outside the town walls avoided the town tax. The spaces in front of each of the three great gates had been kept clear, but elsewhere there was a jumble of shanties and shops, built right up, almost to the walls!

Akhilleus saw Jacinta pause and look.

He nodded grimly. "You can see it too, can't you? Most haven't figured it out yet. A lot of people are going to be very unhappy when they find out!"

Jacinta shook her head unhappily. "How on earth did they ever let people build so close to the outside walls?"

"Well, there's no help for it now. Come on, let's try to enjoy ourselves and forget about the war for a while." Akhilleus smiled and grabbed her hand and pulled her along. "We are getting left behind."

The seven-day week is derived from the seven "luminaries" that can be seen by the naked eye travelling against the stars and the sky. They are the sun, the moon and the five planḗtai (wanderers). All peoples of the earth believe they are supernatural, connected to whatever Gods they choose to worship.

Sunday (Hemera Heliu) was named after the ancient Greek sun-deity Helios, a Titan and very different to the Anatolian God, Apollōn. Sunday is the main day of worship and rest in Troia, including (by law) most slaves.

After their religious observances, the people of Troia, from slaves to aristocrats, rich and poor, determinedly set out to enjoy their day of leisure. Sunday is also the day of the free handicraft markets.

There was a vast field about half-an-hour's walk from the city where anyone could set up a stall, a bench or a blanket, tax free. Townsfolk, villagers and slaves earning money to buy their freedom join stall owners to become amateur traders.

There were jugglers, musicians, fortune tellers and sellers of food, drinks, household goods, clothing, toys, animals and farm goods, jewellery and other trinkets, soaps, perfume, face paint and many other things too numerous to mention.

It was noisy and crowded as the sellers tried to grab the attention of the townsfolk as they passed. The day was unseasonably hot for spring, but there was a cool sea breeze and a few stalls had shade for their customers.

Jacinta had been shopping with Timo so there wasn't much she needed. Her mother was too distinctive to be able to go out from the palace and shop without a huge crowd gathering. So Jacinta bought a roll of woven cloth for her and arranged for its delivery. It would be a gift for Eudokia's sister who was getting married.

It was so nice to be part of a group of young people for a change and Jacinta was enjoying the competition amongst the boys to show her around. She was a girl at the beginning of the age when girls started to get interesting, she was a stranger to the city and she was a celebrity.

Everyone felt the need to show her everything and explain it.

It was especially nice to have Aison and Akhilleus vying for her attention. Akhilleus was probably not aware he was doing it. He was such a quiet and serious young man.

Aison bought her shaved ice topped with petimezi (grape syrup). Jacinta didn't know whether to feel pampered or embarrassed. Ice was expensive, it had to be brought from the mountains and stored in special rooms sunk deep into the ground. The sour cherry drink everyone else was drinking, or fruit juice, would have done her.

You're such a peasant girl, Jacinta! Still, it was nice he wanted to impress her.

But the boys started to act as if she knew nothing! The old Jacinta wouldn't have stood for it. To be polite Jacinta dutifully acted surprised, impressed and excited but it was getting rather wearing having to play the "dumb girl". She knew more about most of these things than they did.

Of course, she knew Smyrna was famous for its figs, she had been there. She had picked Troian grapes just like the ones for sale. She had seen the horses, goats and sheep in Kappadokia, which was more than these boys had.

Aison had gone off briefly to explore when Akhilleus drifted closer to her. "They act as if you don't have any brains." He sounded amused.

Jacinta laughed, grateful he understood. "I've been travelling Anatolē since I was born. Where on earth do they think I've been all this time?"

"Ah, but you're a girl!" he said, looking straight at her. "Properly bred girls are locked away and not educated beyond looking after the house."

Jacinta felt a surge of anger and took a deep breath. She swung, ready to give him a piece of her mind, but saw his amusement. She let her breath out in a snort, and shook her head in frustration. He was on her side.

"Don't worry," Akhilleus murmured quietly. "Let them think what they want. If they underestimate you, it gives you an advantage," he said chuckling.

She smiled. It was exactly what her father would have said.

Jacinta could have wandered around the stalls for hours but the boys were soon bored with shopping and took bread, fruit, fish, olives and cheese to make a picnic in a large cleared field nearby. Jacinta wasn't allowed to pay for anything. Not sure how she felt about that, she smiled and followed along.

Those Greek boys! As soon as a group of young Troian or Greek boys congregate, they always seem to organise competitions. Soon they were racing, wrestling and jumping in various competitions, mostly naked to spare their clothes. They simply must compete.

She was relieved Aison and the others stopped focusing on her. She was sick of playing 'the girl' and just wanted to relax with the others.

Her mother was expecting her after lunch so she couldn't stay. As she smiled and waved to her friends, Akhilleus offered to take her back. She told him very firmly that she could manage to find the fortress (which was clearly visible above the city walls) without getting lost.

He laughed at her sharp tone. "Of course, you can! You're rather smart … considering you're a girl."

He ducked but not quickly enough to avoid a clod of earth which showered him with dust.

Jacinta ran back to the palace laughing, at first to avoid being chased, and then just because it felt good to run.

* * *

Helios arrived at the city as befitting a great king. He headed four thousand troops, mainly infantry. They marched, chanting, to flutes and pipes and formed up smartly before bashing their spears against their shields as a salute to the city. The people of Troia lining the road and those allowed up to the wall cheered enthusiastically.

King Helios had a cloak decorated in rich purple, his breast plate and helmet were polished till they shone like gold, sparkling in the sun. His helmet bore a stylised image of the sun which he had taken as his own and had a flowing mane of horse hair, dyed crimson.

He sat astride a spirited Iberian horse, big and majestic like Nadeer, but dappled grey. His saddle and bridle were rich with silver inlay.

One of his soldiers gave a loud blast on a polished bronze tyrrhene (salpinx, trumpet) and Helios called out in a mighty voice. "People of Troia, brothers and sisters, you have my oath. An attack on you is as an attack on me and my people. Here is but the first of the reinforcements that I bring."

Elves even on foot can travel swiftly at need but they would be bringing supplies and siege equipment, so would be six more weeks. Hakeem's tribesmen couldn't be much sooner than that but this was more than enough to protect the main fortress and all the necessary beachhead fortifications throughout the Troad.

Leandros and his officials had done Helios the great honour of meeting him at the gates. The two kings hugged like brothers. To Hakeem, waiting with the official party, the presence of his lord and mentor felt just as good as the troops he had brought. When Helios greeted him, Hakeem fell to his knees, head bowed to salute him.

"Hakeem, you don't have to bow before me like that." Helios lifted him up and embraced him like an old friend. "It's only a few moons short of two years since I last saw you. You don't know how good it is to have you back at my side in a time like this. By the Gods, man, what have I been hearing about you? You return to me as a paladin and a Warlord not only of your tribesmen but also of the elves, no less. Should I be bowing to you instead?"

Not you too!

"No lord, I certainly don't think so." He gave a laugh. "Allow me to introduce my family which is my greatest achievement, and riches beyond what I deserve. This is the woman I love more than life itself: her Majesty Elena, queen of the elves, and here is our beloved daughter, Jacinta."

"Great Lady! You are just as beautiful as they say. Did you know news of Hakeem's marriage devastated many a young lady's heart at my court?"

Hakeem laughed heartily. "Don't believe a word of it, Elena. He makes me sound like I was quite a ladies' man."

"You? No, I don't mean that at all!" Helios laughed at the thought. "Elena, Hakeem was deaf, dumb and blind to every attempt to catch him. No girl could ever corner him, though many tried. I do declare a beautiful woman could throw herself at his feet and lie there looking up at him. All he would do would be to politely help her up, without understanding she might have an interest in him. Nikoleta and I were ready to match make!"

Hakeem coloured as Elena and Helios shared a joke at his expense. "And your own lady, Lord?" Hakeem enquired diffidently at the mention of Nikoleta.

Helios sighed. "It was hard on her, losing the twins you know, but now she is heavy with child and it seems she will carry this one to term, praise be. It burns me to leave her at this time, if truth be told. I must return there soon, at least for a short while."

Helios's love for Nikoleta was legendary. She was a lady who brought joy to everyone she met. All Helios's subjects loved her. He refused to set her aside or take another when she seemed to be unable to carry a child to term.

At last the marriage of these two seemed like it would blessed with a child.

Helios had arrived with two of his stratēgoi but Hakeem knew them. Neither could be his new senior. There was no time to ask about it. After the formal greeting and simple refreshments they went straight to a briefing before the evening feast. Helios didn't even stop to rest.

Hakeem found himself in a crowded room with Elena, Helios, Leandros and many of their junior commanders. He was one of the last through the door and was left with a small bathron (stool). As he gingerly sat down, it creaked alarmingly under his weight.

"First, I have good news," Helios started. "Ephesus, Milētos and most of the coastal Greek cities have agreed to join us against the Makedónes. Unfortunately, this won't mean a lot of troops.

"The Western Elves are also going to join, since the killing of Philip the Grey. They can't send any men either, but they will help the Lydoi and Bithynians who are mobilising against the threat of Philippos striking inland. Anatolē and beyond are now united against this threat though what we do here we will have to do mostly alone."

"My Lord," Hakeem began.

There was a pause while Elena insisted on changing seats, causing a ripple of laughter.

That poor stool!

"You can't know how pleased I am to see you, Lord," said Hakeem catching up on what he meant to say. "The task before us, we all know, is one of great difficulty but I have had time before your arrival to study this matter. I have a number of ideas I would wish to discuss if I may. I am anxious to meet your new commander and we also need to decide on the overall command."

Hakeem looked at the men in the room, the officers seemed frozen, and avoiding his gaze … no one reacted. There seemed to be a lot of tension in the room. What is going on?

Helios smiled and nodded to king Leandros. "We have agreed that there will be hēgemonía for our joint commander, at least here in the North."

Hakeem nodded. It meant the senior stratēgos could act autonomously, not having to clear almost every decision with each of the allies individually. It made sense.

"We need to decide quickly what should be done," Helios finished.

Hakeem nodded enthusiastically. "Just my point, great Lord! I have been looking over the fortress here and thinking of strategies. I know how things may seem but I have worked out a number of possible approaches I wish to discuss. We can defeat the Athēnai, I have no doubt about it. Then I think we can start giving some serious problems to Philippos.

"We just need to make sure the Athēnai don't join with the Makedónes, and we need to prevent Philippos from becoming established on the Troian plain.

"We can definitely do this thing!"

Hakeem noticed the other commanders were saying nothing. Their faces had strange, somewhat wooden expressions. He realised he was talking loudly. He was working himself up.

He subsided, embarrassed by his rudeness. He always felt this way when planning. What would everyone think? For him, his tribesmen would come for no pay but they would be paid with the help of Cyron.

He was a mercenary.

He may be the Shantawi Warlord, but even at best this would make him the most junior member of the whole alliance.

He was junior to all present in terms of age, rank and status. He hadn't even been formally confirmed by King Helios as a commander. He must let the more senior men talk first.

"My apologies, great Lords, for my unseemly excitement," he said, abashed. "I got carried away. I had hoped that my Lord would bring his senior commander and then we could decide on the overall command."

Helios smiled. "The choice of the overall command has been decided."

Hakeem flushed; his mouth went dry. He felt his heart beating in his chest. The Anatolian Greeks were the dominant part of the alliance and their choice must be accepted, but to decide without even the pretence of consultation! This was a grave insult to the elves and his tribesmen. It would cause bad feelings at the very start of the alliance.

"Yes Lord," he managed in a hoarse voice.

"Don't look so grim, my friend," Helios reassured him, smiling. "I have been corresponding with King Cyron of the Eastern Elves and King Leandros here and have their enthusiastic support. I'm sure the choice will come up to even your exacting standards."

Hakeem relaxed. He realised only then that he was holding his breath. He looked at the king who held his deepest respect and his sworn oath. Helios and Leandros were not the type to make such a serious mistake in an alliance.

"So is it to be one of you great lords? We all would be deeply honoured!"

"No Hakeem," Leandros responded, laughing. "We have at our call the greatest generals in Anatolē. None feel equal to this task. Even if the odds were equal, even without the superior weapons and superb training of the Makedónes it would be hard beat Philippos."

Hakeem knew how difficult this all seemed, but what was Leandros trying to say? He was continuing. Helios was nodding … the leaders had some plan.

"There is no way of defeating Philippos that we can see. He is in Makedonía at present but will travel to Bithynia to reinforce Parmenion. We are all agreed our situation will go from fiendishly difficult to catastrophic.

"We cannot beat the Attik navy, so we cannot prevent an Attik attack. Yet we cannot guard against the Athēnai and have enough men to prevent Philippos reaching the plain of Troia at the same time."

Leandros paused. "The man who leads us needs to be more than exceptional. He has to be better than Philippos, who is the greatest leader of our time.

"Leandros and I have already decided the man I will appoint as my new commander. The plan was to meet him here."

"Samit?" Hakeem thought out loud. Would Samit, his old friend, come out of semi-retirement? Even for him it would be a grim task.

"No," Leandros said very quietly. "Even for Samit, this is an impossible task."

"If you hoped to meet him here, why then is he not here?" Hakeem could barely contain himself. He felt like snarling in frustration. What sort of man would not make the effort to be here in time, knowing the importance of this meeting?

Now they would have to wait till he arrived before they could even start planning properly.

But it seemed Helios had found someone exceptional. He may be coming from a long way. There were some rumours that the Lydoi had found a Greek Mercenary leader. He was from Rhodes … Memnon. That was his name!

No, it couldn't be him or Leandros would have said it was a direct alliance with Sardeis. Everyone seemed to be watching him. He was causing offence. He had better try to talk more calmly.

"When can we meet this …" Hakeem abruptly stopped.

No one else was saying anything, they were just watching him. Helios and Leandros had quizzical looks on their faces. The junior officers looked like they were struggling with something. What by the Gods was going on here?

"Is there anyone at all who can do this thing?" Helios whispered to Hakeem.

Hakeem gasped in shock.

It finally hit him. He flushed furiously and felt dizzy. It felt like he was watching the meeting from a great distance.

Oh no! They can't mean!

It can't be!

While Hakeem was shaking his head and trying to regain a sense of reality, the others began smiling at his confusion.

Since Hakeem had arrived in Troia, his mind had been furiously generating clever ways that would allow their small force to face their powerful opponents. He was obvious in his excitement and confidence. It never occurred to him it was a test.

He showed a grasp of a hundred and one details and had a boundless enthusiasm and energy that put heart back into the troops. Some of the ideas he came up with, virtually single handed, were amazing.

"My Lords, I am not worthy. You really can't mean me." He coloured deeply.

For a minute, Leandros paused and took a breath. He continued, completely serious. "Hakeem, we say you are worthy. There is simply no one else.

"Now … do you accept?" he finished formally.

Everyone was looking towards Hakeem with broad smiles on their faces.

Hakeem nodded and chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, I thank you. Or I suppose I'm supposed to say something like that."

More formally, he added, "My great Lords, great commanders. You will not regret this honour you do me. I hereby pledge to all here if I have to move the heavens themselves, I will not fail the people of Aiolía and Troia."

"Congratulations, then," said Leandros, as everyone relaxed and started to chuckle. "At least I think I'm supposed to say something like that.

"Now, do you really have any clue what can be done? Frankly, no one else has the slightest idea. All we can agree is that it is impossible, even if we had three times the men we will have."

Hakeem leaned forward, enthusiastic again. "Without any doubt this task can be done! … But we will see, I suppose, we will see."

Soon Hakeem was too busy to feel embarrassed talking in front of his seniors.

"Now, we can't face Philippos in the field. He is one of the finest generals of all time. And he himself says his most trusted general, Parmenion, is better. His son, Aléxandros, at fifteen, led the Pella garrison to victory over a superior force, and is close to their equal. Now that he is reconciled with his father, we have to face all three united against us.

"Partly it's the way Philippos has constructed his army.

"Makedónian hoplitai and their heavy infantry have exceptionally long spears or lances. These should be impossibly clumsy weapons but they are all veterans, superbly drilled. They are the best that can be found in all the cities he has conquered and intensely loyal to Philippos.

"But it still wouldn't work without the right tactics and it is in tactics and co-ordination that the Makedónes show their true genius.

"As a boy Philippos was a hostage to Bardyllis, the greatest of all Illyrian kings, and as a young man he was hostage at Thēbai. The Thēbai were the first to lengthen their spears although not as much as the Makedónes. It was the Thēbai who broke the power of Spartai.

"He has studied under the greatest military minds of a generation and he has learnt from every campaign he has waged and from all he has conquered.

"He is a master in varying his tactics and combining his forces. Even if we outnumbered him, we can't meet him in the field.

"He will be bringing reinforcements. I'd say with garrisoning the cities he's taken; he'll have something more than thirty-five thousand in the army we will have to face. The maximum we can have would be sixteen thousand by draining our garrisons and strong points but we can't do that because we will have to face the Athēnai.

"Athēnai is the largest city in the Hellás but the hinterland is a mountainous and the surrounding farmlands are not rich. They import much of their food and other farm produce. In name they are allies of Philippos but when he takes Troia, he can control all their food supply and hold them to ransom any time he wishes.

"The Makedónes defeated the Athēnai and their allies a year ago, but the Attik navy is intact. They have the finest navy in the region and we can't win a naval battle against them. They are masters of the amphibious assault.

"They can bring maybe six thousand hoplitai in the first wave, plus a thousand of their marines and an equal number of peltastae. They can then reinforce this with a further four thousand or more, probably mostly peltastae.

"Our best chance is to prevent Philippos from reaching the Troian plain, forcing him inland against the Lydoi and try to stop the Athēnai joining him either here or in Bithynia."

Everyone in the room nodded.

"Now, we have agreed the situation is completely hopeless." He paused and slowly looked around the room. "You will hear endless rumours. It is always thus in war; believe none of them.

"People around you will despair. I will need your courage, which I know I already have, but I will also need your unflagging support and trust. I will not betray your trust, but you must absolutely believe I won't with your whole heart, no matter what.

"Leandros has an excellent spy network and I assume Philippos and Athēnai have the same. It's likely we will soon be falling over traitors and spies. The thing I need now above all else is secrecy. It is not possible to surprise an enemy if they know exactly what I plan.

"Only the most senior commanders can be given the whole plan. None of this will be discussed outside this room by anyone at any time. We will take whatever means magical or human to make sure we are not overheard.

"The rest will be given your tasks and I ask and trust you will carry them out exactly as you are asked; don't try to improve them. Do not voice any doubts openly, and discourage all rumours. Can you agree?"

There was uproar. No, they couldn't agree! They would not be excluded from the planning. This was an insult! Most of the junior commanders were of noble birth.

Eventually Leandros had to shout and bang the table to restore order. Hakeem sat, his face unreadable. It took further shouted commands from Leandros and Helios, till all but the most senior officers left the room. After they had gone the senior commanders looked at each other, a little stunned by the intensity of the reaction.

"Is it safe to talk, now?" Elena asked.

Leandros nodded. No one asked how he was sure.

"I will be saying things most of us know, to explain it to Elena," Hakeem started. "As I see it, we have several advantages. The first is the excellent fortress here. The second is limited land access."

He asked for some of the wooden slates covered with bees-wax (for drawing) and quickly drew the outline of a map.

"This is the access to the Black Sea. Philippos holds all of the opposite shore. Here we have Troia, facing both the Egeo Pelagos (Aegean) and the western entrance to the Black Sea, the strait we call the Hellespontos.

"The entrance to the black sea bulges in the middle, at Mysia and western Bithynia, to form the Propontis, which is a small sea on its own. Finally, it narrows again to form the even narrower Bósporos."

He placed the tablet on the floor so they all could see.

 

"This is Troia's land, the Troad." He drew a blunt triangular peninsular pointing northwest into the Aegean, bounded on two sides by water. "The whole region’s maritime and land access is limited. The Troad is no exception. The land connection is guarded by mountains

and forests except where Troia and Abydos are.

"A raiding force travelling lightly might get through one of the minor overland routes but the Makedónes will come to stay, and they will also need siege weapons and other equipment.

"Besides, once we have Héctor's elves, any attempt to move an army strung out through heavily wooded forest will be the last mistake any enemy commander would ever make.

"There are only two major land routes. To the south there is a narrow winding road through the mountains leading on to Aiolía, this is where our reinforcements will come. Then there is the major route roughly parallel to the entrance to the Black Sea. It goes a little inland, here, before it joins the Troad. That is where the Makedónes will come.

"The Athēnai will come by sea. Then they are faced with the same problem of where to land. Much of the coast is narrow beaches backed by scrubby, rocky hills and gullies where there are only narrow paths.

"Anything vaguely promising has either a city or town or else is fortified against an attack by sea. King Leandros and I have been adding field fortifications to what is already there." He paused and took a deep breath. "Or they can come straight to the docks in force and try to capture them."

He waited for that to sink in.

"The next advantage we have is the disunity in the so-called allies. The Athēnai hate the Makedónes with a passion. Philippos claims his dynasty came from Árgos in the Hellás. This would make him Hellenes (Greek), but everyone knows that is a technicality.

"The Makedóne nobles speak Attik Greek, but the Makedónes themselves are racially mixed: several native tribes, several Greeks and various invaders. The common Makedónian dialect is closer to Aiol Greek but is hardly comprehensible to the Attic Greeks. So the great Athenian culture is being forced into insignificance by those they see as barbarians.

"The internal situation in Athēnai is even better. Phokion is their current overall stratēgos. He's eighty but by far their best general and greatest thinker. He's more like a Spartan and the troops adore him. Phokion is the only man alive who defeated the Makedónes every time he came against them. Unfortunately, Phokion always speaks plainly which makes him unpopular.

"He said Athēnai would lose against the Makedónes and suggested allying with Philippos. Because of that, his loyalty was questioned. It was complete madness. He's simply a realist and a fine general. He's no more pro-Makedóne than I am.

"They had to bring him back after the defeat because there was no one else who could stand up to the so-called Makedóne 'Ambassador', Antipater.

"Phokion will oppose an attack on us and will be forced to step aside. So the corrupt leaders of the Athēnai will want to come against us but all their men will want to come here and fight with us against the Makedónes.

"I hope to use this. I want the Athēnai to attack here, and as soon as possible."

"What?" said Leandros's second in command, "You want them to attack Troia itself? Why?"

"Then we will know where they are, of course," Hakeem explained.

"Yes, breaking down my gates!" Leandros replied in alarm.

"I don't think so," Hakeem replied. "I'm sure I can handle them if they come here. It removes the threat to the whole coast and it means we can deal with them before the Makedóne arrive. If they are here, we don't have to worry about them being anywhere else," Hakeem added cheerfully.

"We can defeat them if they try to land in the rough terrain but it would be far better for us if they try for a direct assault on the city here."

"Wonderful! Let's hope they come straight here with as big an army as they can manage!" Leandros cried, almost choking as he said it.

"That's right!" said Hakeem enthusiastically.

Now they understood him!

"I'm sure I can tie them up with your fortress using a small force. I plan to make it into an expensive siege for them.

"But first we have to appear weak."

"That shouldn't be too difficult," Leandros added dryly. "The danger is that we are weak, too weak to win."

"Yes, Lord. That's the serious weakness of the plan," Hakeem admitted, stroking his beard.

"I want the Athēnai to underestimate us. If they are smarter or stronger than I hope, Troia will fall."

"We gamble all on this? " Helios asked.

"Yes Lords." Hakeem nodded.

"Are you going to send your family away from here?" Leandros asked.

"No Lord, despite the risk, they are safer here than anywhere else, apart from Elgard. When we came here to be in Troia, we knew what we faced. In any case, I've asked them and, as I expected, they refused. Quite firmly as I recall." He nodded to his wife who gave a serene smile.

"You believe you can win?" Leandros said, weakening.

Hakeem nodded. "Yes Lord, I do."

"Alright," said Leandros, grimacing.

Helios nodded slowly his agreement. It would fall to Helios to try to salvage something if Hakeem failed.

"Tell me about how you plan to handle the Makedónes after that," Leandros asked.

"Before I start, we know that the mainland Greeks would love to rebel. A great deal of money appeared mysteriously in Athēnai and Thēbai to hire mercenaries, just before they rose up against the Makedónes. I don't suppose either of you great lords would know anything about that?"

Helios coughed, looking faintly embarrassed and Leandros tried unsuccessfully to look innocent.

"For the moment it's very important we don't stir up any rebellion against Philippos.

"If Thēbai and Athēnai rebel, he will finish them once and for all. It will remove a possible later threat for no good whatsoever and who knows what we will have to face from Philippos after that.

"Secondly, I want the Hellás and elsewhere to be as peaceful as possible so he will be as heavily committed here as he dares. As far as numbers go, we are in danger of having too many while they will have too few."

He saw the incredulous looks on their faces and smiled.

"I know you both thought of getting more men, my Lords." He looked at Helios. "I know my Lord Helios that you are waiting for another contingent from the south that soon will arrive. This is only the beginning of your levy and you can hire mercenaries. Please don't bring any more than what you have already arranged."

Now they really did look confused, had Hakeem taken leave of his senses?

"Oh, start your citizens training half a day a week, my Lord, but don't take them completely away from their farms or shops. Let people think you are reluctant to help your old enemy here.

"And concentrate on light infantry, bowmen and light cavalry. Philippos concentrates on heavy infantry and cavalry and the use of his special pikes. I can't beat him at his own game, so I don't intend to. I won't fight a pitched battle against him in the open.

"Let me explain. Philippos doesn't have much of a navy and the Athēnai won't be kindly offering theirs any time soon. So his supply lines will be impossibly stretched from Makedonía through Thráki and across the Bósporos and then all the way to Bithynia.

"He will be dependent on imported grain to feed his horses and other supplies. With the war, grain will be in short supply in Bithynia, and he needs to send plunder and gold back to Makedonía." Hakeem paused. "His supply line is his greatest weakness. That's why he wants to firmly establish himself there before he comes for us.

"The bigger his army, the bigger his cavalry and the worse his problem will be. As soon as we have the Athēnai safely tied up in a siege here, I plan to make his little problem of supply far worse than he ever imagined.

"Philippos has massive resources but it only seems his wealth is vast. He's been too busy giving it away. He can't raise a tax like the rest of you can, that's not how it works at the moment in Makedonía. The nobles there are too powerful.

"The king has to buy support from the regions old nobles. And he's shoring up this support at home by creating new nobles as fast as he can. He is giving money and estates to his supporters and any promising men from his army.

"He didn't sack the Athēnai, because he's been desperate to win their friendship.

"So he's deeply in debt to finance this campaign, as surprising as that sounds. He is not only accustomed to winning he also needs to win just to keep afloat."

Leandros nodded. He had the best spy network, better than even Athēnai.

"The bigger his army the more expensive," Hakeem continued. "If I can start to give him trouble, the costs will start to rise rapidly for him."

All in the room were starting to smile as they understood what Hakeem was saying.

"We are not going to go to Philippos. We'll let him come to us. I know he can move very fast, but I've studied him. He is coming to stay, this isn't a punitive raid. He won't come closer till he secures his supply lines, he's not foolish. We won't see him knocking on the door for nine to twelve months.

"The last thing I want is the biggest army we can possibly muster sitting around waiting for maybe a year. The cost would force us to march out to meet him, which is the last thing we should do. He would chop us up into little pieces and spit us out. We need to hold our strong points but for the sort of campaign I will be waging we won't need vast numbers in the field.

"But to do something about the Makedónes, we have to deal with the Athēnai. For that, we have an advantage, one which will confound them completely."

"What's that?" Elena asked.

Hakeem relaxed back with a broad smile on his face. "Can't you see it? It's so obvious!

"How can anyone think, even for a moment, that I have the slightest clue as to what I'm doing?"

He was rewarded with Elena pouting at him and the others grinning evilly as they waited for him to continue; they knew Hakeem well.

Then he leaned forward and told them what he planned to do.

 

 

Chapter 6: The Invitation, and the Making of Olympias

"What about my mother, does she know about my sister's wedding?" Aléxandros asked in a neutral tone.

The marriage of his sister (also Kleopatra) to their mother's brother (also Aléxandros) would take place at the end of autumn, in the ancient mountain fortress of Aigai.

It was the old capital and the ancestral home of the Argeadai dynasty that had ruled Makedonía for three hundred and fifty years.

Philippos didn't reply immediately, as he studied the expression on his son's face. If indeed Aléxandros was his son. He had a pleasant face, fairer than Philippos and clean shaven. He was stocky but very powerfully built. One of Aléxandros's eyes was darker than the other and his neck was tilted since birth.

Olympias claimed he was fathered by Zeus, Philippos had not even considered Aléxandros might not be his till it no longer mattered.

Now he was almost sure which particular human form the "God Zeus" had taken with his wife. The thought passed. As far as he was concerned Aléxandros was his son.

"I have invited her," he said simply with a half-smile.

"Why are we wasting time with this wedding, why aren't we both marching into Bithynia now?"

Parmenion had crossed into Bithynia in the spring.

"Don't you want to give your sister a nice wedding?" Philippos said quietly. "Do you really not know? Or do you ask this just to irritate me?"

Philippos was fond of his daughter, but this had nothing to do with his decision to hold an unimaginably lavish wedding.

It was the way Philippos waged war.

He planned to invade Anatolē. So he needed his home secure from rebellion or invasion. His military campaigns over the past year were aimed at neutralising and deterring possible enemies.

Then from all over the empire he brought the sons of his subject lords to Pella as royal pages. He gave them the finest education, including, of course, in military techniques. He raised them in lavish surrounds and then took them into his army. As they grew, most were more loyal to Philippos and Aléxandros than their own families and if not, they were at least de facto hostages.

He used all these to secure his homeland. And the last way he planned to secure his home and prepare the way into Anatolē … was to hold a wedding.

It was so typical of Philippos but how was holding a wedding waging war?

The wedding of Philippos's daughter to his brother-in-law would be the largest and most lavish the region had ever seen. It would last a moon, even more. There would be rich gifts for the guests and endless entertainments.

It would say more than anything that his was a fabulously strong and powerful empire, whoever you are, whoever you think you are, you are insignificant in comparison. Join it and you will be rewarded, oppose it and you will be crushed.

None would know he had emptied his treasury. It wouldn't be a problem, he still had mines, forests, land and tribute, and money was flowing to him from Parmenion's conquests.

And while he had the great and powerful assembled (including traitors and ambassadors from Anatolē in secret) he could play the game he loved best. The game he was so good at. He would reward, awe, bribe, swindle, threaten, court and spy upon.

As he never tired of saying to Aléxandros, "gold can scale walls." A traitor with a few men opening a gate was far cheaper and surer than a siege. Gold can buy a traitor, employ a spy, ensure someone's loyalty and arrange all sorts of things if used cleverly.

If only Aléxandros would learn this!

His son was a skilled leader but he preferred a good straight fight. Aléxandros was the charging bull while Philippos was the fox. In the early days there were too many times when the charging bull would not have been enough.

For the wedding, he had chosen Agai, the ancestral capital. He had said it was so his ancestors could witness the celebration of this, his greatest triumph … but that wasn't the reason.

* * *

The reason for Philippos choosing Aigai was, almost at that same moment, sitting with his invitation on her lap.

She had sat for some time frowning with mounting irritation and then, she relaxed and threw her head back and laughed.

"What is funny, senior?" Penelope, the novice attending Olympias, asked.

Penelope knew it was an invitation for her mistress to attend her daughter's wedding. She had been exiled to her home in the rustic surrounds of Ápeiros (Epirus), now she was being invited back to Makedonía; what could be so funny about that?

Olympia didn't bother to explain. She shook her head from side to side and laughed again.

"You old fox!" she murmured softly.

She couldn't help it; it was so like him!

How many meanings could that man pack into a simple invitation? It had been two years that she had been banished to her brother's kingdom in Ápeiros and now Philippos was inviting her back for their daughter's wedding. It seemed as simple as that.

Yet nothing was ever simple with her Philippos.

Their daughter (also Kleopatra) was marrying Olympias's brother (also Aléxandros). This was the brother in whose house she was staying and yet he had never even mentioned the marriage to her!

Philippos had backed her into a corner with childish ease. Her brother's loyalty was to Philippos now, not her. The news was worse: their daughter couldn't stand her, and Philippos well knew this.

She had lost her refuge, where could she go?

Well that was the next part of the cleverness. The invitation was written in his own hand, not by a scribe and had his signature not just a seal. It was formal but exceedingly polite.

He wanted her to return to him. Her only alternative now was the small island of Samothráki, the temple of the greater Gods, effectively an exile in the ever-shrinking part of the world that Philippos didn't own, but even there she would hardly be free of him and his gold.

Yet the wedding would be in Agai, not the capital at Pella, and that was a message, too. He was inviting her back to his kingdom, but not to the royal court.

Yes, he would take her back, but completely under his control. Is that what she wanted? She couldn't help but smile again. It was one of the reasons she loved him so much, even when he used his cleverness against her.

She sighed. Even on these terms, she wanted him. She thought of Philippos's strong arms around her, of him touching her again.

"You win," she murmured to herself, smiling.

"Prepare everything," she said out loud. "It seems soon we will no longer be welcome here and we are invited to Aigai. "

"Will we visit Dōdṓnā?"

Olympias nodded with distaste, amused by Penelope's eagerness. "Yes, I can put that off no longer, we will go to Dōdṓnā, my husband can wait."

* * *

As Penelope left to get ready, Olympias's thoughts turned to Dōdṓnā.

It was where it all began.

She was eight when her father, King Neoptόlemos of Ápeiros, decided to divorce her mother to take a younger woman. It was not legal in Ápeiros, but her father had adopted the "civilised" laws of the Athēnai and, to the Athēnai, women were little more than possessions.

He returned his wife to her family, as if she was a thing, an object, he no longer wanted. It was a complete humiliation for her and eventually killed her.

Her father and his new wife had little tolerance for the young girl who was unhappy and missing her mother. She had done nothing at all it seemed, before she too was sent away. She was taken to the nearby forest at Dōdṓnā, to join the priestesses that served the famous oracle there.

For the small girl, it was terrifying and bewildering. She had thought her father loved her, but she was a girl, and her father could treat her any way he wished. She needed to learn that.

Back then Olympias was known as Polyxena ("many guests/strangers", hospitable) because of her sweet and welcoming nature. Olympias smiled as she remembered that. No one would accuse her of having a sweet nature now.

The sisters of the forest keep to the ways of the old ones. They worship the Great Mother of the forest, whom they called Dione. The young girl, who had been a princess, was an apt pupil (she had every reason to be) and the sisters were kind to her.

So Olympias learnt much of the ancient magic of the forest. She learnt how to tend the sacred grove of oak and how to listen for the messages sent in the murmuring of the trees.

Not much is now known about the civilisation and lore of the old ones, the original inhabitants of the Hellás, those that the Greeks call the Pelasgoí.

Much knowledge was destroyed in the time of the Aryans, the Bronze Age Collapse and the dark age that followed. A few of their villages survive scattered here and there in rustic regions and their blood can still be seen in the darker Greeks.

They were in the main a gentle people. They lived mostly in peace for untold millennia before the war-like Mykēnai came from the north to conquer them.

They revered their women for their closeness to nature and for their power of creation, and they especially revered their priestesses. They worshipped powerful deities, the greatest of which was the Great Earth Mother, in all her guises.

A few incidents convinced the new-coming Mykēnai not to threaten or harm the priestesses of the old ones or any in their protection. The sisters were usually gentle and peaceful but the old earth magic was not forgotten amongst them. When needed, there could be a darker, even murderous side to the sisters.

Men were easy to trap, when the sisters found it necessary to hunt them, and there were secret ceremonies of sacrifice that were rarely used and never seen by outsiders, except those unlikely to survive them.

In this way, some of the old law and knowledge had survived in the wilds. Olympias suspected, not for the first time, that this was what had formed the attitude of "civilised" and "learned" men of the Hellás towards women.

They feared their power.

Not much more than two years later, a group of men came to Dōdṓnā, sent by her father, the King. They were priests of Zeus, and had come to make the oracle their own. The women who served Dione of the forest greeted them, smiling. In the morning the women had gone and the oracle fell silent.

A great many years passed before they could be coaxed to return.

In that time most stayed in the forest, living simply, but it was decided by the sisterhood that it would be safer to send the young princess to Samothráki, well away from her father.

Greeks love joining secret cults and there are three popular ones that preserve the beliefs of the old people: the Kabeiroi of Lemnos, some of the darker sects of Dionysus and the oldest, the most powerful and the most secretive of all – the worship of the greater Gods of Samothráki.

So secretive is the cult of Samothráki that to discuss the nature of its greater Gods or even name them outside the innermost circles is forbidden. Their "mystiria" (secrets) are written in an ancient language and alphabet which is far older than Greek.

What Olympias learnt at Samothráki was very different to the gentle teachings of the sisters of the forest.

On Samothráki she learnt more about the overt power of the Goddess, aspects of her now worshipped in other guises. She learnt of her greater magic, the aspect that had given rise to Hecate, the Lydian Goddess of witchcraft, and female seductiveness and raw sexual power, that had given rise to Aphrodite.

It was so amusing that so many faithful cult members and newer initiates never understood what they were dealing with; to them it must have seemed exciting, some sort of fun.

Her father also didn't know what he was creating in his young daughter.

He didn't know then …

* * *

Olympias and Philippos

When Olympias first saw Philippos, she was already a senior priestess, second only to the senior mother. Her name was Myrrhina back then, named after Myrtle the sacred bush of Aphrodite and the symbol of feminine beauty and seduction.

Philippos had come to experience the ecstasy of the orgiastic rites during the summer festival on Samothráki. He was handsome and confident and exuded the power that Olympias craved. As soon as she saw him, she marked him out.

She knew how to make him fall in love with her and she knew how to make sure she had a son and she knew how to cow the others at the Queen's Court.

Her father readily agreed to the marriage. Indeed, all of a sudden she was his dear young daughter again, as if nothing at all had happened.

It didn't to occur to him she would be resentful. He was, after all, a man and he was her father and her king.

She showed him what a dutiful daughter she had become, respectful and loving. Both his wives had died by then, so his daughter often visited her dear and much-loved father. He prospered from the marriage and became Philippos's favoured ally.

Olympias smiled in relish as she recalled. He didn't realise that she was no longer sweet little Polyxena … at least he didn't realise just then.

When he finally got sick she did everything for him. It was such a slow, difficult death.

She eventually asked his healers if it could be a poison, but who would do such an awful thing?

Nothing could be proven of course, but she remembered how heartbroken he was to think that it had to be his younger brother, Ἀrybbas, whom he loved.

It was her that kept the long bedside vigil. It was her that was attentive to his every need. Finally, as nothing else worked, she suggested to his healers that he be bound tightly from head to toe in bandages, almost like a mummy, and covered with blankets to sweat the poison out of him.

But it only made him weaker.

People visited and came and went but his daughter kept the vigil ever by his side. Late that night, as he became weaker and weaker, she sent the servants from the room, so she could talk to her father in private.

Her father smiled at her as she fiddled with something at the back of his head. He looked puzzled, as it seemed that she was fitting a gag to him.

Olympias smiled at the thought, he still didn't understand, perhaps he thought it was part of the treatment. She produced a soft pillow she had made for the task and held it in her hands and smiled down at him. Then she leaned forward and whispered in his ear who it was that had poisoned him.

Her father was dying and he was bound helplessly but the strength of his reaction was frightening. Her heart was racing and her breath was coming quickly as she struggled to hold him down and keep him from making too much noise.

She feared she had miscalculated, but then his struggles started to became weaker. It was profoundly satisfying, and somehow arousing, to use her strength and weight against him. She had considered prolonging the moment to enjoy the feeling of him struggling helplessly against her, but the fight had gone out of him.

When his servants returned, their king was dead and already wrapped for burial.

How convenient!

She was, of course, inconsolable. Soon after that Philippos won a horse race at the Olympics and she changed her name to Olympias. It was to celebrate a victory. But it was not her husband's victory she was thinking of.

When her uncle took the throne in Ápeiros, nominally as regent to her younger brother, Olympias was at the height of her power.

It was then that she realised she had made a terrible mistake. She didn't know when it had happened, she hadn't been watching herself closely enough and now it was too late.

She realised she had somehow fallen deeply and hopelessly in love with her husband, Philippos.

* * *

Philippos was sitting in the palace at Pella, also thinking what had gone wrong between him and Olympias. It had started so wonderfully.

When he first saw her at Samothráki, she was strikingly beautiful, but possessing a powerful intensity he found intoxicating. The ancient festival started with plays, ancient stories and rituals.

Towards the afternoon there were martial dances of men and mock battles to the beating of drums. Olympias served him herself as they sat and amicably talked and watched.

In the evening all assembled began to drink specially prepared potions, and the pace picked up. It started with sensuous dances of women to the beating of drums and the pipes that would lead to the orgiastic dances of abandon with both men and women.

Olympias led him away from the main ceremony, to initiate him in the mysteries personally.

First she gave him wine drugged with herbs. She lit a small fire she had prepared and, slowly at first, began to dance around it, keeping time to the music. Her dance became increasingly sensuous and fevered and, as she pulled him in, the smoke and the drugged wine took hold. He was completely captivated by her, she was irresistible.

He felt the heat coursing through his body. He felt his body powerful and throbbing to the beat of the drums. He cannot remember how they both became naked as they danced, but she had the lead, he was in her power. He had never felt a lust so strong. As they experienced rapturous coupling, she whispered to him of the power she could give him.

It was years later before he began to realise something was wrong.

At first he had no legitimate male heir but within a year of their marriage, Olympias gave him a son, Aléxandros. The woman who made him feel so wonderful had provided him with a strong son! His happiness was complete.

His other wives could only miscarry or have girls, he thought then it showed how lucky he was to have this wonderful woman.

Philippos gave little credence to tales of his favourite being a witch. She frightened the other wives, keeping snakes and making dark threats. He thought she was playing games with them. Let the women play their games.

Only Audata, his second favourite wife, stood up to Olympias. Audata was an Illyrian warrior-princess but she was often away, riding with Philippos and his army.

He had had an illegitimate son, Arrhidaeus, to a dancing girl but when Philippos presented him to the court the young boy was poisoned, near to death and left simple.

Almost immediately there was an attempt on the life of his nephew, Amyntas, the only other possible contender to the throne beyond Aléxandros.

Nothing could be traced to Olympias, but now Philippos now knew his favourite wife could do more than make empty threats.

Like Aphrodite, Olympias had the power to make men fall in love with her. But also like Aphrodite, she became jealous.

She began flying into rages when he slept with new women or favoured other wives over her. They began to have violent arguments.

He considered putting her aside, but found he just couldn't.

And then he began doing things he couldn't remember deciding to do.

He couldn't remember when he decided to attack the northern Illyrian kingdom of Audata's Grandfather. It was no great surprise that he did so, but it was a long time before Audata, his second favourite, forgave the killing of her kin.

He began getting strange dreams and whenever there was silence he heard a faint whispering.

When he found himself attacking Olympia's uncle 'Arybbas, his long and faithful ally, to put Olympias's brother on the throne, Philippos knew that something was wrong, very wrong.

Olympias continued to offer potions to make him feel strong and give him ecstasy and ease his dreams. He didn't know what other magics she continued to use. He lusted for her, he burned for her.

And eventually Philippos, who feared nothing and no one, begun to fear Olympias.

* * *

Troia, and a meeting

Apollo was the head of the Troian City Fathers and one of the most trusted voices in the People's Council. He was also one of the most outspoken critics of the appointment of Hakeem to lead the defence of the city.

This particular night was two months after Hakeem had arrived and Apollo was chairing a particularly spirited meeting.

But it wasn't a meeting of the City Fathers, nor was it a meeting of the People's Council. Apollo was hosting a much smaller and far more secret meeting in his house. It involved the heads of the other four most powerful merchant families of Troia. All were similar in age to Apollo and all were like-minded.

None of those present had military experience or training, but they were powerful men, all used to making their own assessments. They had been observing the preparations Hakeem and Leandros were making for the defence of the city. No matter how hard they tried or who they paid, they were unable to find out how Hakeem planned to defend Troia. This in itself made them suspicious and what they could see hardly inspired confidence.

They believed something was going very badly wrong.

So this evening they were not assembled together to express their admiration for Hakeem or to sing his praises. King Leandros had a standing joke with his spy master. He would describe such serious discontents as 'less than happy'.

They were expecting to be murdered, to have their daughters and granddaughters raped and to have their beloved city and all their very considerable possessions destroyed. 'Less than happy' would not be the term most people would have thought to describe their mood.

Hakeem didn't know about this meeting. If he did, the best he might have said was that it was fortunate none of those present were men of violent action.

"They are lying!" Aneas the wine merchant shouted loudly, slapping the table for emphasis, as he helped himself generously to Apollo's best wine. "They say they are going to defend the city but that filthy tribesman is cleaning out everything, even the countryside, and he's sending most of the Navy south.

"Something's gone wrong, we all know that! Where are the elves he promised? Where are his flea-bitten savages from the desert?

"Aiolía sent us a third of the men expected and that bastard sent most of them to forward posts. They should have been kept to garrison the city, any fool would know that. The Athēnai will come here otherwise.

"They ask for trust, and yet they refuse to give any answers! It was trust that lost us the last war."

"Aneas is right," Euripides the miller said quietly, as he looked up.

He was always a quiet thoughtful man, but this evening he had been positively morose.

While the others did most of the talking, he had seemed absorbed with swirling his wine around in his black glazed kylix (flattened two handed drinking bowl).

He was staring glumly at the naked dancing woman revealed at the bottom and the ring of saturoi (satyrs) on the inside rim.

Each satyr was engaged in their favourite pastime of chasing a naked nymphē (nymph). To the beautiful female nature spirits a saturos is no more than an ugly and distasteful nuisance, but they occasionally relented. And so, the satyrs kept on chasing them.

"We are going to lose," he added. "They know that, we all know that. All this secrecy is to keep the city quiet while Hakeem and the others look after themselves."

"They don't tell us what they are doing because we wouldn't stand for it!" Apollo shouted heatedly. He was flushed from drinking more than normal. "Troia cannot win. Fighting is the last thing we should be doing. Philippos has razed many a city that has stood against him and he'll do the same to us.

"What we really need to do is get as much reinforcements as we can, hire mercenaries if need be, and then negotiate the best possible deal from a position of strength. If Leandros swears allegiance to Philippos, he'll probably let him stay."

It didn't occur to Apollo to question the value of a treaty with Philippos. Philippos had eventually broken possibly every treaty he had ever signed.

"Everyone can see a disaster coming as plain as day," Nestor, the head of one of the oldest merchant houses in Troia, said. "We can't win, but even if we did it will be disastrous for trade. All of us have friends who were ruined in the last war."

He glanced round meaningfully. "So what are we to do?" he finished.

Simon, younger than the rest and Apollo's closest supporter, leaned forward. "We must martial opinion against this barbarian horseman and force him to tell us exactly what is going on. He and the King need to act in the interest of all Troians, not just themselves. We are going to come close to treason but it has to be done." He paused. "It will fall to Apollo here as our representative to do most of this, but we need to support him in any way we can."

It was more than just close to treason!

Yet Apollo and his excited friends were simply giving voice to what many in Troia were saying.

* * *

Apollo and his friends didn't know it but they were not the only meeting of powerful, wealthy but unhappy men in a Greek city that night. There were another two other men discussing Philippos and the fate of Troia, but they were in a city at the other side of the Aegean. It was in a city that had long considered Troia as one of its most faithful allies.

It was Athēnai.

Demosthenes was shouting and pacing backwards and forwards. "Damn the man!"

Parmenion was in Bithynia, conquering one Greek city after another.

"Is there no stopping Philippos?"

Demosthenes, the great Athenian orator, had become extremely wealthy stirring up opposition to Philippos since Troia first employed him. He only paused once, to accept a bribe from Philippos when he was sent to conclude a treaty with him.

Unfortunately for Demosthenes, Philippos did not pause to debate with him. He had simply either conquered or destroyed all his previous employers.

"Stopping the Makedónes has not proven easy," his companion, the Athenian general, Chares, said mildly. "I have long told you not to underestimate Philippos and overestimate our strength."

"We need grain, if he takes Troia he will finish us."

"I'm sure that may have occurred to him," Chares said dryly.

"Troia is weak," Demosthenes continued. "It can't last against Philippos. We are supposed to be allies of the cursed Makedónes. We all feel sympathy for the Troians, me as much as anyone alive, but if anyone is going to take their city it has to be us. They would be better with us over their heads than the cursed Makedónes."

Chares smiled. "I'm not sure that the Troians will agree, and Phokion definitely won't stand for it, but you are right, we have to do something."

"I will deal with Phokion," Demosthenes said firmly. "The populous is turning against him again. I have warned him often enough. A small push is all that it needs."

Like many great men, Phokion had a tragic flaw. Poor and from the rural area of Phokis, when he first arrived in the city he was bullied by the other boys, sons of wealthy families.

As he grew up, he set out to prove that he was physically, morally and intellectually superior to all the sort of people who had once taunted him.

Unfortunately for his opponents, he undoubtedly was.

Unfortunately for Phokion, he seemed to ever delight in showing it.

He loved opposing the populist view. Once when he was applauded for his views in council he asked, "Have I said some stupid, unwittingly?"

He changed his name to Phokion, man from Phokis a rustic, rural place. It was so like him to do that.

To make it worse, he was a student of Plato. To Plato, ruling was a difficult and specialised task and required someone of special abilities and qualities. You need a baker to bake the best bread, a weapons smith to make the best weapon. The common man did not have the experience, skill or sufficient interest to rule, so democracy, rule by an assembly of citizens, couldn't work.

For countless decades now, the self-proclaimed "great" democracy of Athēnai had seemingly set out systematically and with single-minded determination to prove Plato right.

The city became corrupt, dominated by orators who gained power by impassioned rhetoric and propaganda, playing on populist fears and prejudice. The Athēnai had even created the word for them, "demagogues" … or in a name, Demosthenes.

Before the disastrous battle at Chaeronea, Phokion had said very loudly that Athēnai could not possibly defeat Philippos. He suggested accommodation with the Makedónes. He recommended that all the free theatre, free bread and feasts the populace was long used to, should be cancelled. He said the money should be channelled to the military.

It was so like him, to say something like that and it was not what Athēnai wanted to hear.

They should have listened to Phokion, someone who told the truth. Instead, they listened to Demosthenes who promised wonders without sacrifice. They sent Phokion away and then had to call him back urgently after their disastrous defeat. He was the only one who could stand up to the Makedóne "ambassador", Antipater.

And now that things were recovering under Phokion's able rule, the people felt secure again and they began to forget. The pendulum of opinion was swinging against Phokion again.

"They are saying he is pro-Makedóne," Demosthenes snorted. "Madness!"

He lowered his voice. "Antipater hates him. I think he is trying to blame Phokion for some of the harsher measures he has taken."

Chares laughed. "His fellow Athēnai hate him because he is pro-Makedóne, the Makedónes hate him because he opposes them. You have to say it; he really knows how to irritate people."

Demosthenes laughed, and nodded. "He's certainly good at that!"

Improbably over the years, the two old antagonists, Demosthenes and Phokion, had developed a certain humorous warmth towards each other. Both had brilliant minds, both loved to contest the other. In quiet moments there was a refreshing honesty between the old adversaries.

Phokion was driven to deny any softer side. He almost fled from other's gratitude or some who might wish to praise him, and yet under the acidic exterior and caustic wit Phokion was kind to any who found themselves in trouble, even former enemies.

He and his wife led an almost frugal personal life but were generous to a fault. Phokion was ever a loyal friend and an intense patriot.

Demosthenes over time had come to understand the true Phokion hidden under an almost disagreeable exterior, and now Demosthenes was becoming seriously worried by the mood of the people.

It was the ugly side of the Athēnai democracy.

Leaders, whom they believed had failed them, were "judged" by a huge assembly, usually in a mood little better than a lynch mob. Demosthenes had already warned Phokion that he might be killed if the people became 'irrational'. But Phokion simply laughed. "Yes, and they would kill you if they ever come to their senses!"

It was so like Phokion to say something like that.

 

 

Chapter 7: An Elf Queen and a King's toilet

Hakeem was frightened.

He urged his horse to gallop faster up the slope. He had been inspecting preparations at the docks when he had an urgent summons to attend Leandros.

His heart felt leaden, what on earth had gone wrong?

There were a few possibilities and none of them were good.

Nadeer had only arrived recently and still felt much neglected. He pulled strongly up the steep and twisting road from the docks. None of the other horses could come anywhere near matching the big stallion's strength, and he loved to prove it.

Once they reached the cobbled streets of the town, however, he slowed. He didn't like cobbles. Hakeem urged him on but Nadeer continued to carefully pick his way over the uneven street.

"Nadeer," Hakeem whispered urgently, "the other horses can see you!"

Could Nadeer understand human speech?

The horse gave a loud "Neigh!" and pulled himself up straight, his ears erect.

The next minute saw Hakeem trying to control a huge and powerful warhorse careering wildly through the crowded streets. Hakeem bent low over his horse to avoid being thrown and tried unsuccessfully to slow him down.

Nothing worked! So Hakeem could only hang on and desperately yell for all to give way.

Despite how it seemed many times in that frightening journey, Nadeer knew he never came close to an accident. He enjoyed the alarmed looks on the faces of pedestrians, he enjoyed the near misses.

He knew his master was excited. Hakeem rarely cursed and gasped like that. He must be enjoying himself!

Nadeer pulled up outside the palace steps proudly, prancing and snorting. An even paler Hakeem climbed somewhat shakily down to give him a quick hug before leaping up the stairs three at a time as he yelled out to the palace guards to take his horse.

As he hurried to Leandros's audience chamber he could hear the unusual sound of the town engineer's shouts echoing loudly down the corridor. Zenon, for all he had to cope with preparing the fortress for the coming war, was normally a placid man.

Whatever could the matter be?

Hakeem barged past guards and the great double doors that stood open. "My Lord, is something wrong?" he asked anxiously.

"Of course, something is wrong! It's your wife!" Leandros yelled tersely.

For a moment Hakeem's heart missed a beat. His face was stricken. He clutched at the hilt of his sword. "Is she alright?"

"What, Elena? Why of course she is," Leandros gestured dismissively. "But when I tried to use the bucket to flush my toilet, it just filled up and bubbled at me. It was an awful mess.

"You must control that woman of yours."

Hakeem blinked at the king and Zeon in confusion. He had been summoned urgently because Leandros's toilet was blocked? Did they want him to fix it?

And what connection was there between the king's toilet and his wife?

Yet rarely had he seen Leandros so agitated.

Soon the pair was leading a thoroughly perplexed Hakeem down a long series of stairs and corridors to the ancient foundations of the fortress. The passage got narrower as they climbed down the first of a series of ancient trap doors.

Despite the agitation of his companions, Hakeem had not been here before and he was intrigued. Did this area connect to other areas in the palace or even outside the fortress? Or could it be made to? He was starting to think of situations where such knowledge would be useful.

But Zeon was talking. He was obviously at the end of his tolerance.

"So she borrowed my workmen. She wouldn't tell me what she was doing. And now she's digging up the sewers. I said to her that she may cause the sewage to get into the ground water which would poison our wells. All she said was she would try to be careful. TRY!"

Hakeem grabbed at a pitch torch that was left in a wall sconce. As he did so, a large glob of burning liquid pitch flicked off it onto his boot and started to burn into it. He quickly scrapped it off with his other boot, but he was too late.

Great! He thought as he looked at his boot in dismay. He had just ruined his best pair of riding boots.

And the day had started out so well!

What on earth was Elena doing? Well, what under the earth was she doing? Had his wife taken leave of her senses? Or at least abandoned them even more than she sometimes did?

He pressed on grimly.

They came to the final trapdoor in the floor. As Zeon lifted the lid, there was darkness and an appalling smell whooshed up. There was a rusted ladder of sorts leading down from it but it didn't look at all safe. Down the dark narrow tunnel, he could hear the sound of voices and a tapping of metal striking stone; there was a flicker of light in the distance.

Hakeem, avoiding the ladder, lowered himself with difficulty till he was stretched out. Then he dropped the last few feet … and wished he hadn't.

He sank halfway to his knees in the sewage. His boots were submerged and were starting to fill rapidly. Oh well, if he wanted to spoil his boots, he may as well make a good job of it. And why not include a perfectly good pair of trousers as well?

It wasn't as if these things were expensive or hard to come by with the siege approaching and trade at a standstill.

He could hardly breathe from the stench. He had to remind himself over and over that sewage was mainly waste water. In the distance he heard scurrying and dozens of small eyes shone from side entrances in the torchlight.

Those rats were huge!

Something loathsome dripped from the ceiling, hitting the back of his neck.

"Elena," he called out. "What in Hades are you doing down here? Do you want to catch the plague?"

"Hakeem! Hakeem, is that you?" he heard in the distance.

Grumbling, he waded in the direction of the sound, foul mud sucking at his boots. At least the filth was getting shallower as he walked, but the stone underneath felt slippery. Wouldn't it be just perfect if he slipped over now?

There was a small splash, Zeon was behind him.

Leandros sensibly waited behind. He refused to join his insane guests sloshing around in his sewage.

We are awaiting an invasion. What am I doing down here? Hakeem thought.

"Elena dear, what are you doing?"

"Ah, Hakeem. Good! This is very heavy; you can give us a hand." By the flickering torch, Elena came into view on a small slimy platform.

She was covered head to toe in filth; her short blond hair was muddy and tangled. She was delighted to see him. He stooped automatically to kiss his wife but he paused when he couldn't find anywhere on her face clean enough.

"Don't move that, you fools!" Zeon shrieked.

"Don't worry. We have blocked the main sewer. You don't think I'm that careless, do you?"

"Stop work! Everyone!" Hakeem yelled loudly. The workmen placed down their tools with some relief. "Darling, can you explain to me what's happening?" he asked, managing to keep his tone reasonable.

"Surely you knew I would be doing this?" Elena asked.

No, I must have missed something, a hobby? No that's dwarves, not elves,

"So, do you normally do this sort of thing when you're a guest in someone's house?" Hakeem enquired mildly.

"Don't be silly!" Elena replied crossly.

"Alright, let me spell it out so even you can understand. We are in Troia, correct?" she asked.

Hakeem nodded. Elena looked at him triumphantly, as if this explained everything.

"And …?" he prompted when she didn't seem about to continue.

"Well, I'm an elf." Elena waited and Hakeem nodded encouragingly for her to continue.

Suddenly she tearfully launched herself into his arms. "Oh, Hakeem, I just can't feel them!" she cried miserably. "All those people, their bones, millennia of our history and the horror of its end. It's all beneath my feet.

"Sacred Troia, I should feel something, elves can feel those sorts of things, you know. But there is nothing. I think of them. Especially the women, yet I can't feel them."

While Hakeem was trying to attend to a thousand and one details of the coming war, he had forgotten the search for the magical items. Elena was looking for "the book that must not be read" which was buried in 'the Eldest'. 'The Eldest' was the elf city of Troia.

The Great Library of Elvish Troia had been destroyed and its marvellous collection set on fire. In any case the book had been lost almost a thousand years before that. Many elves had searched for it in vain.

If it wasn't hidden in the Great Library, the only other obvious spot was the Temple of the Mother Goddess, under which was the vast underground city of the dead. It could be anywhere inside there, truly impossible to find.

How could Elena find something that eluded the elves for a thousand years? Especially now the elvish city had been destroyed? She didn't even know where to look for the temple.

Elena, with whatever little help Jacinta found time to give, was poring over countless ancient documents. Documents, unless magical, can't last a thousand years. They would need to be copied many times but who would take a copy of an old document when no one here spoke Ancient Elvish? She couldn't really tell anyone what she was looking for, so she had to do it alone.

In despair she decided to search the foundations of the city. Nothing showed near the outside walls and she could hardly dig there, so she went inside, searching the lowest point she could find, but still there was nothing. She was feeling lost and alone and near to giving up.

Elena looked at him, completely dispirited.

"What am I to do, Hakeem? I can find nothing. I don't know what else to do."

"It's not here," Hakeem said.

"What did you say?"

It was hardly a heartbeat.

Elena's face went from tearful misery to perplexity and then to narrowing suspicion. She pushed herself away to look at him with mounting anger.

"Elvish Troia was never here. Greek Troia was never built on the foundations of the ancient elf city as most believe. I thought you elves knew that."

"Tell me, Hakeem!" Elena demanded.

Her tone was starting to sound dangerous.

Hakeem thought how to best explain it. "As you know, Troia's harbours, old and new, are made from the submerged river-valley of the Skamandros. The world has gotten warmer, you elves know that.

"When the water level rose in ancient time, the Skamandros valley flooded. It gave Elvish Troia one of the finest harbours in the Mediterranean. But the river kept flooding and depositing silt at its mouth. The point where the river meets the sea has slowly moved down river over time.

"After thousands of years, the elves were forced to dredge their harbour to keep it open. It became a huge artificial harbour, maintained with great effort a long way inland from the natural coast. With the fall of Elvish Troia, the dredging stopped and the harbour they had maintained for so long simply filled in and disappeared.

"The human city was built almost five hundred years after Elvish Troia was razed, and by then the coast had moved even further outwards. It was never intended to call it Troia but the story of the ancient elf city defines this whole region and the locals, everyone, simply refused to call it by any other name.

"The ruins of Elvish Troia will be up the Skamandros valley from here. The river has changed course over that time, so the ruins will be in the valley but might be far from the river.

"Also we are west of the river; the elf city was on the other bank, so east and well south of here. The ruins will be buried under the dust of centuries. It was on a bluff, like Greek Troia. Now it probably looks like a huge hill, but no one knows for sure where the ruins are. "

Elena looked at him in amazement and anger. "You mean this isn't where Troia was? I've been digging and looking in the wrong place! And when were you going to tell me this?" She glared at him in fury.

It wasn't fair. Before they left Elgard they had hardly been talking to each other for weeks and since they arrived, Hakeem had been just a little distracted (trying to get ready for some very unpleasant visitors).

What could he say?

"Elena, please forgive me. I know I should have thought to tell you. I've been so busy, I've been neglecting you and I'm sorry."

Elena put her hands around his neck and kissed him on the lips, she tasted of mud but Hakeem didn't mind.

"Hakeem, we hardly see each other. You know how much I love you.

"Zeon, I'm sorry." Elena apologised. "Do you think you can … er … put everything back?" she asked, blushing.

Zeon bowed courteously. "Of course, my Lady!" he said, with a smile to the beautiful but grubby elf.

It was not as if he had anything else to do, he thought, considering the fortifications and siege works he was building and the war coming, but his natural good humour was restored by having his sewers returned to his control.

Hakeem hugged his wife, careless of his shirt.

Why not finish and ruin his whole outfit, after all?

"I've made a fool of myself, I'm afraid," Elena said.

Made a fool of herself? ... Now why on earth would Elena think such a thing as that?

Everyone else in the fortress is preparing for a siege while she takes a group of workmen down to chip at the foundations.

"Not at all! Not at all!" Hakeem echoed Zeon's gallant denial.

After all, you're only one of those incredibly intelligent elves you keep telling us about!

"Hakeem, you're laughing at me!" Elena accused him with mock severity as she leaned affectionately against her big tribesman.

She smiled and shook her head. "Don't try to pretend you're shivering, that's laughter."

"Darling," Hakeem said, struggling to keep a straight face. "I told you this was my fault. How can I not laugh at my own folly?"

Elena's eyes narrowed suspiciously as she studied his face. Hakeem was struggling not to laugh.

"How will I explain this to our daughter?" Hakeem asked, giving her an innocent look. "So she doesn't get the wrong impression, of course."

They both knew exactly what Jacinta would make of something like this.

"Ooh! You are so cruel," she accused him. "I hate you! Alright, I admit it!

"I confess that because I'm an elf, I just couldn't admit that I couldn't find the foundations of Elvish Troia. I should have asked you or King Leandros. I admit I'm not always smarter than you. Just am most of the time! … Will that do?"

"Mmm," murmured Hakeem conversationally. "I'm told some new brides don't want to admit to their husbands they are not as independent as they wish they were."

"Really?" Elena smiled as she leaned into her man's embrace. "I couldn't imagine that. I don't really think you're cruel, but I just had to say that."

"I know that," said Hakeem hugging his wife and kissing her again.

"Just one minute." He paused and raised his hand to address the workmen.

"All of you! Listen to me, please!

"It can be no secret to you that our Elena is searching for something very important. It is not gold, but a book of ancient knowledge. It is not here as she thought. Once the siege is lifted, my lady and my daughter will start again. They will be searching for the ancient elf city which many of you do not know is further into the valley.

"I won't be able to go with them.

"I need to tell you that this may be even more important than anything else we do in this war. The defence of Troia is just part of a greater struggle we face but there are enemies even more powerful than those we now face. I can't tell you strongly enough just how dangerous they are.

"They have already tried many times to kill my wife and many good men have already died because of them. While she will have a large body guard, if these enemies find out where she is, they will come again to kill my family. If they succeed, all we do here will be for nothing. Now, will you help us?"

The men willingly answered their agreement.

"Thank you, my friends, as I would like to call you all. When she goes, I will ask you to go with her. I won't pretend that you do not go into danger but we will send a large guard with you. You are workers but if you help us in this, I call you warriors and great patriots.

"But I ask one thing. Tell no one, not even your closest family, what we are doing. Don't tell them you will be leaving until just before you do. Then only say you are to perform an important duty for your king, which is the truth. The life of the queen and the fate of all we do rest in your hands. Do you agree?"

At this, there were loud shouts of support.

The people of common Troia loved the gracious elf queen and would ensure her safety. In truth, they were starting to think of her as their own.

"And as a small token of our gratitude, I will also make sure you are paid twice your normal wage while you are working for us."

The cheering now was deafening.

It echoed throughout all the sewers and went on and on.

* * *

Jacinta couldn't stop thinking of Sunday all week. She got up before dawn to greet the sunrise and meditate. Then, after breaking her fast, she made her way to the practice yards while the others visited their temples. By the time Aison came to fetch her, she was clean, bathed and excitedly waiting.

Aison broke into a delighted grin when he saw her, and her heart skipped. He was breathless! He had run to meet her. As he walked up to greet her, he bent close. Was he going to kiss her?

Her heart was hammering as she waited and stared up in to his handsome face. She held her breath and parted her lips a little. He hesitated. The moment seemed to last forever … and then he turned away, embarrassed.

She felt like grabbing him in frustration. Didn't he know she wanted him to kiss her? Evidently not!

The moment had passed. Timo had said she mustn't seem too eager or he wouldn't like her. How did that work? Men can be so strange sometimes. Timo said all she had to look at him adoringly and pretend she was fascinated by him. Well, that part was easy.

"The others are waiting for us," he said, blushing a little, as he took the hand she offered him.

It was a perfect day. Every day now seemed warmer than the last. Their group had been building a small raft and the time had come to try it. Today was so clear and sunny, Jacinta couldn't wait. They hurried down to where the other boys waited.

"We are going to make for a tiny beach near the headland. It can only be reached by the sea. We'll have some lunch there and then go back. It should be great fun," Aison explained as they met the rest of the boys near the docks.

"Are you sure?" Akhilleus asked. He was a strong swimmer but unfamiliar with the Hellespontos. "Everyone says the currents here are very dangerous and Jacinta isn't a strong swimmer. Maybe we should stick to the harbour."

The Black Sea and the smaller Propontis formed an enormous body of water and the tidal movements in and out had to funnel through narrow straights. The currents in the Hellespontos had a reputation for being savage and treacherous for good reason.

"Don't worry," Aison reassured them with a smile. Aison and three of the other boys were locals. "We are not going very far and we will stick close to the headland. We will be sheltered by the headland for most of it As long as we don't go out too far from the shore we will be safe. The current will reverse by the time we are coming back so it would be helping us both ways. If there is any problem, we will stay with the raft. It's well made and see those fishing boats out there?" He gestured. "If things go wrong, they'll help us."

"Maybe Akhilleus is right, maybe just you boys go," Jacinta said, feeling uncertain. She was still a weak swimmer, though getting better. Hakeem had impressed upon her just how dangerous the Hellespontos could be.

"Come on," Hyginos coaxed her. "If we don't go today the tides won't be this favourable for another moon. With the war we may never get another chance. As long as we are careful, we will be alright," Hyginos said.

Hyginos, one of the younger boys, was a son of a fisherman and the raft was his idea. He knew a lot about boats and tides. But, if there was any mischief brewing, Hyginos was usually somewhere in the middle of it. If anything went wrong, it wouldn't be the first time with Hyginos!

But he wasn't silly enough to lead them into anything truly dangerous on the water. Any thought of this was immediately dispelled by his serious and competent approach to building the raft.

Jacinta looked uncertainly at Akhilleus.

He eventually relaxed and nodded with a smile at Jacinta. "Don't worry, Aison is right. We'll all look after you."

"We have grown up beside the Hellespontos," Aison confidently reassured them, (not quite mentioning that his family left any handling of boats to others).

There were only seven of them. Jacinta felt a knot of anxiety to hear some of the boys weren't willing to join them. She caught Akhilleus looking at the Hellespontos straits beyond the harbour with concern, but when he felt her eyes on him, he turned and smiled reassuringly.

Then the excitement took over as the small group scrambled to get their raft.

Hyginos said that it would bear four or five boys high and dry. There were seven of them. Till they were sure, they would put their clothes and supplies on the raft and swim alongside.

The raft was solidly made and the boys were intensely proud of it. It was huge and had taken a lot of work. They had found a dozen seasoned pine wood logs abandoned in the forest and had lashed them securely onto four thinner crossbeams. There were four paddles and two poles to move it (though it was likely to be very sluggish in the water). It had a small mast in the centre and one of the boys had tied a Troian dolphin-flag to it.

All they had to do now was launch it.

The harbour of Troia was formed by the mouth of the river Skamandros. The docks area was made from a natural beach which had been enlarged with land fill. The city itself was on a headland above.

On the western edge of the harbour, near the cliff, there was a natural sand spit which had been enlarged to a breakwater protecting the harbour. The sandy section cliff was sometimes used for launching small boats either into the harbour or into a tiny backwater that connected to the Hellespontos itself. The Aegean was a short distance beyond the headland.

The launching area had slipways made of several wooden runners with logs and levers for moving heavier boats. They were not often used so the boys had built their raft across several of the runners, ready to launch. At least that was the idea.

The raft, now that they had built it, must have weighed a ton! They couldn't budge it.

"I think we should have built it by the water," Hyginos grumbled as he scrambled to get a good purchase on the raft and tugged at it ineffectually.

Now you tell us.

Jacinta gritted her teeth and heaved. They were tugging and straining and getting nowhere. But Greek and Troian boys (and, of course, Jacinta) are not anything if they not strong and determined.

Aison and Akhilleus brought some heavy poles for leverage from behind. Hyginos found a pot with a little thick oil left inside to grease the runners. Jacinta joined the rest of the boys to lift at the sides. They heaved and … nothing happened.

Aison started a countdown so they strained all together and, it moved a little.

Then with repeated "Ena, Zio, Tria … Heave!" and a lot of grunting and shouting (and some cursing), the raft started to inch down the short ramp. Once it was moving it was easier.

Eventually the raft was mostly in the water.

Everyone had to flop down on the sand, exhausted for a few moments. They were all grinning at each other in triumph. The boys, Jacinta could see, were red faced and sweating and Jacinta was panting and her face felt just as warm and sweaty.

"How much time do we have left?" she asked Hyginos.

"Enough, but we should go now." Hyginos looked just as tired, but they had to go.

The boys quickly stripped off and loaded the raft with their clothes and food and tied it all down. Jacinta usually dressed the same way as the Troian boys with a simple shift, belted at the waist and covering down to just above her knees. She wore cotton underpants rather than the Greek loincloth, but no binding on her chest. It wasn't really needed yet.

She unselfconsciously stripped off to join them. None gave her a second glance.

Then they lifted and pushed the raft till it had floated clear of the sandy bottom and then started to push it towards the main channel. It was very heavy and sluggish and the boys were still heaving and kicking to get it moving. Two boys climbed up and began to push hard with the poles.

Akhilleus stayed on the beach. He would hold the long rope as long as possible before joining them at the raft. He was extra insurance to prevent the raft being drawn out into the central current.

The gentle current of the back eddy started to catch the raft. They were close to the rear of the back water so it was helping move the raft slowly towards the main channel. The boys all relaxed and the two on the raft climbed down and joined their friends in the water.

Yet none of them really understood the nature of currents in the Hellespontos … or their power. Nor did they know that anything to the side of such a strong current gets sucked powerfully inwards.

Nor did they know how much different a raft was from a boat which was designed to be steered through waves and currents.

They were just about to find out.

As soon as the raft met the main current it tugged powerfully away and towards the centre of the strait, picking up speed.

"Try to get it back to the side!" Aison yelled urgently. "Kick as hard as you can!"

The boys were kicking furiously. Two jumped back on top, one desperately trying to paddle and the other trying to lever on the current side with a pole. He was almost thrown into the water as the pole disappeared under the raft.

"Jacinta!" Aison, yelled over the other boys who were all yelling at once. "Untie the rope! Akhilleus can never hold this. He'll pull you back to the shore!"

Jacinta scrambled onto the raft and fumbled desperately at the wet knots, but they were pulled tight. None of them had brought their knives, for fear they would capsize.

Akhilleus braced himself, ready, but he was immediately yanked off his feet. It was as if he was trying to hold back a team of horses.

He was in the water now being pulled after the raft as it picked up speed and starting to spin in the current.

Jacinta stood, pulling on the rope with all her might to bring Akhilleus to the raft.

"Let go of the raft!" Akhilleus yelled to them as he came closer. "It's pulling us all out into deep water!"

"No, stay with it!" Aison yelled back. "It'll keep us afloat. The current will drop once we're past the headland. Can you take Jacinta?"

"Jacinta, do you trust me?" Akhilleus yelled over the commotion of the boys. "We have to go. We have to go now!"

Jacinta nodded, she scrambled to get her clothes and his and tied them in a knotted bundle.

She jumped into the water, almost into Akhilleus's arms.

Akhilleus was the best swimmer of all of them and he pulled strongly for the shore while Jacinta held onto his neck. But for a long time, it seemed he was making little headway and Jacinta began kicking desperately, to help.

Eventually the exhausted pair flopped onto the sandy beach. But it was the wrong one. They had already been taken past their intended beach and were on a section that disappeared at high tide.

Akhilleus was the first to recover and stood weakly to check on the boys holding on to the raft. He was still naked. Jacinta put on her under pants and soggy shift before she joined him, grabbing her cloak as she shivered in the wind.

At first she couldn't see the raft, and then with a shock she saw how far it had been carried out already. The sea was coming up rougher and the wind was freshening. Unless they got help, the boys would face an exhausting struggle to get back to the other side of the headland.

But Akhilleus and Jacinta were in worse danger.

The beach they were on now would disappear as the tide came in. An attempt to swim to a safer beach would be very dangerous with the increasing swell pounding the nearby rocks.

Akhilleus had his own shift (chitoniskos) still off and was waving it at the three fishermen. The men could already see what was happening and were hoisting their sails so they could catch the boys.

The rescue seemed to take ages but eventually the crowded fishing boat came rowing past with the boys on board, waving at them from a distance. The fishermen signalled they would be back for them.

There was nothing that the two could do but wait. Jacinta, tired from the unaccustomed swimming, napped while Akhilleus anxiously watched the waves breaking over the nearby rocks.

Finally, they were relieved to sight their rescuers pulling strongly in the growing swell.

Two were busy working the oars and the other sat in the rear. He got out and heaved the boat up close and steadied it while they clambered in the front. Then he expertly turned the boat and pushed off, neatly stepping back into the middle.

It was a large boat for three men and could carry them without trouble. The bottom of the boat seemed to have a good catch of fish. Jacinta took the seat closer to the rowers and Akhilleus took the bench right at the front.

It was none too soon, the tide was coming in further and the sea was building up. The boat was pitching in the swell, and they got drenched as the waves crashed over the nearby rocks.

"Thank you so much for saving us and our friends,". Akhilleus said gratefully. "I'm Akhilleus and this is Jacinta,"

As a female, Jacinta let Akhilleus do the talking.

She pretended to keep her head slightly down as she studied their rescuers.

They were blue eyed and fair haired, bare chested and heavily tanned by the sun. They were heavily tattooed; across their backs, on their cheeks, upper arms and lower legs, in dark charcoal and woad, their tattoos forming curling lines and stylised animal figures.

Their leader had a stylised horse across on the cheek, possibly his totem.

They could have been brothers.

The leader wore a distinctive pointed leather hat. The other two used hairbands on their long hair. But they all had short leather boots, rubbed with fat to make them waterproof. Their leather pants weren't new but Jacinta could still see the decorations: stitching, metal buttons and felt sown onto them.

They were unmistakably Skythian. Fish prices were astronomical with the war coming and many fishermen had come down from the Black Sea region to cash in. They would be long gone before any fighting started.

The leader was a burly, bearded man in his late forties.

He looked angrily at Akhilleus. "I might be doing everyone a favour to let you drown! You fool children think we have nothing better to do than to ferry you back and forth."

Akhilleus was taken aback by the hostile reception and flushed deeply. "I'm sorry, sir. I'm from a farm and am no fisherman. The local boys suggested it was safe but I should have realised the danger. You saved us and I'm grateful."

The fisherman seemed mollified a little. "Hasn't anyone told you how dangerous the current in the Hellespontos is?"

"I'm very sorry, sir. We'll never make that sort of mistake again, sir," Akhilleus replied, considerably chastened.

The two bedraggled refugees were sitting carefully, trying to avoid the nets which seemed to be dumped on top of the catch but in reality would be carefully folded to prevent tangles. The smell of old fish was overpowering.

"Well, see you don't," the old fisherman said and then he swapped with one of the other men to take his turn on the oar. "We have better things to do than to rescue a bunch of spoilt kids. I suggest you find a better way of impressing your girlfriend than being a young fool. You've made us miss both our catch and our market. Now we'll have to salt it. You'll have to make it up to us."

His men cast meaningful glances to each other.

Akhilleus formally addressed the leader. "Sir, I would take it as a kindness if you would let me find a way to repay you in some way."

"You?" the man laughed. "I doubt it, lad. Your girlfriend, though, she's a bit young but maybe she'll do."

Jacinta felt an icy chill grip her chest and her heart began to race. She pretended she missed the comment and tried not to show any reaction on her face. She studied the leader out of the corner of her eye, without seeming to. The predatory look he was giving her was unmistakable.

It was harder to see the rowers who had their backs to her pulling on the long-handled oars, but the three seemed to be exchanging looks back and forward. One of them mouthed an indecipherable word and they all grinned. She noticed they weren't returning to the docks.

These men had no intention of returning them home, she realised with mounting dread.

They were in serious trouble.

* * *

Jacinta didn't know it, but the men had been watching her since she unselfconsciously shed her clothes to swim with her friends.

"Look at that!" Palacus, their leader, had said, as he called to his two friends, Scylurus and Anacharsis. "There is a girl amongst that group with the raft. Where do you think a naked girl is going with all those naked boys?"

Scylurus grinned, easing his pants around a growing fullness in his groin. "I don't know where she's going, but I do know what she's going to find when she gets there. We should ask for our turn. I'm sure she would be pleased to find out what real men can do."

Anacharsis joined in with a sly smile, also easing himself. "Maybe we should invite her to our island. She can leave her clothes behind. She won't need them when she visits us!"

Jacinta's body was only just showing signs of transformation into a woman. Despite a good diet, her physical maturation was slowed by her physical training. Her hips had only just started to broaden. Her breasts were small and conical. That didn't stop the men being aroused by their sadistic fantasies of a young girl giving herself over to multiple boys … or being naked and in their power.

When the group got into trouble with the raft, the men couldn't believe their luck.

The girl had become separated from the rest of the group except for one boy. As they went to rescue the main party, they couldn't wait to get back and pick her up. They would take her to their camp. They were finished fishing here with the war coming, why not have a bit of fun before they left?

"This isn't the way back," Akhilleus said cautiously as he noticed where they were heading.

"No." The leader and his two men started to chuckle. "We are taking you up on that offer to make it up to us. We're taking you to our island."

"We have to report to the town guard first, they'll be worried." Akhilleus tried to sound confident. He didn't want them to know how frightened he was.

"That can happen later, lad," the leader said firmly. "You're coming with us!"

Akhilleus had a feeling like lead in his chest. These men didn't intend to let them go. They were trapped. There was nothing they could do in the middle of the water against these three strong men.

"Good!" Jacinta said excitedly and favoured the three men with a breathless smile. "I've never seen a fishing camp. It must be exciting being fishermen, don't you think, Akhilleus?" she said brightly over her shoulder.

"That's the girl! I'm sure we'll find something you're good for," Palacus replied with a leer.

"I can cook, if you have spices," Jacinta said brightly, pretending not to notice. "And Akhilleus is a quick learner. I'm sure we can help out."

Jacinta thought she had seen something in the bottom of the boat, partly under the fish.

"It's warm," she said conversationally, smiling at the men. She stood to take her cloak off. With the rocking of the boat, it seemed she was thrown to one side and had to grab for the gunwale to steady herself.

"Argh!" she said in disgust as her cloak dropped behind her into a mess of water and gutted fish. She moved quickly to retrieve it before Akhilleus could help. Her heart was thundering but she tried to look casual and relaxed as she very deliberately bent well over to retrieve her cloak.

As she moved, her shift revealed a long length of her thigh. There was an unambiguous look passed between the leader and his two men, who snatched a glance over their shoulders. She wasn't supposed to see them. Now she was really frightened.

The thought of those grown men staring at her body made her flesh creep. She blushed furiously at the thought of her wet dress clinging to her buttocks and suppressed a shudder. She felt exposed and dirty. It took all her self-control to appear completely unselfconscious.

She forced herself to wriggle her bum and remained stretched out longer than was needed to reach her cloak and then fold it into a sodden bundle. She wanted them watching her bum and legs. That way, they wouldn't see that she was picking up something else as well as her coat.

"Damn!" she said laughing and shaking her head as she turned back to them, holding her coat ruefully.

Akhilleus felt a cold shock to see the men grinning wickedly as they watched Jacinta bend over with her back to them. Jacinta was not much more than thirteen.

Jacinta and he were in very serious trouble!

It was obvious what they intended. Back at their camp, there would be more of them. His mouth went dry. He felt a surge of rage mixed with a rising sense of panic. The men hadn't given their names, perhaps they hadn't decided to kill them.

He desperately tried to signal Jacinta with his eyes, but she seemed perversely intent on looking everywhere but at him. What was wrong with the girl? She was acting as if she was completely stupid. She was keeping up a stream of empty-headed chatter with their captors.

He saw the men smile and relax as Jacinta chattered innocently on. For the moment they were enjoying playing a game with the stupid young girl and relished thinking of her reaction when she learnt what was in store for her.

It was then Akhilleus understood. Jacinta never moved in a clumsy way. She was as sure footed as a cat. And she was definitely not stupid.

She was putting their captors at ease. She was playing to their fantasies, acting the naïve captive to the hilt. She wanted them to underestimate her. It would be very foolish and dangerous to act that way if they hadn't already decided to capture her.

Now, the more aroused they were the more they stopped thinking. They would want to drag out a game of cat and mouse with her as long as they could.

The clever girl had got them watching her bum. She must have picked something up under the cover of her cloak. It would be a knife for gutting the fish, small but very sharp, not much of a weapon but at least something.

Akhilleus felt a small thrill of hope but also a flash of shame. It was he that had been panicked. It was he that stopped thinking, not Jacinta.

But what chance could they have, anyway? He couldn't force himself in joining with Jacinta chatting away to the men. He sat staring gloomily as the boat passed through the water.

"Oh, there's an island ahead. That must be it! It's got another boat just like yours," Jacinta announced excitedly as the men made for the shore.

"You won't have long to wait now, darling! We're sure you'll enjoy your visit, aren't we boys?" The leader, Palacus and his men were grinning evilly at each other.

Jacinta didn't seem to notice as she looked excitedly forward. Her mind was working furiously, judging the terrain. It had a short gravelly beach of grey sand leading almost immediately to scrub and a sizeable uneven hillock. It had a small meadow of dry grass with a camp of filthy makeshift shelters. There was rubbish and rotting pieces of fish everywhere. It was a small island, unfortunately, nowhere to hide for long.

A second boat was drawn up at the other end of the beach that meant at least six men, but probably that was all. These sort of men didn't like splitting their profit by having more than they needed per net. Their other three friends weren't in evidence, but they wouldn't be too far.

As the boat grounded, Jacinta spun over the gunwale in one fluid movement and dropped lightly to the sand. She moved away but not so far as to arouse their suspicion. She deliberately kept to the wet sand. It had a firmer footing for running or fighting.

"Coming?" she brightly beckoned to Akhilleus.

But their captors wouldn't let it be that easy. One of the sailors had been too quick for him. He had grabbed Akhilleus and put a knife to his throat. They carefully handed him off between them till he was on the sand with his arms held in a vice-like grip and a knife at his throat.

"What are you doing?" Jacinta demanded in a frightened, girlish voice, backing away.

"You'll find out soon enough, darling," the leader said with a gloating smile as he jumped down. He raised his voice to yell out to the others. "It's us! Don't use names! She's a little young but I have something rather nice for you."

He started to stalk her as a hunter moves on its prey. Akhilleus watched, angry and shamed by his helplessness.

"Please don't hurt me!" Jacinta pleaded, almost close to tears. She ran a carefully measured distance away and then turned to face him, as if uncertain. Unnoticed, she had put something in her right hand.

The big man grinned. "This is going to be more fun than I thought! Better than pirating! I hope you'll put up some fight."

Try to look terrified. That's not hard!

She was already breathing rapidly and her heart was racing. At the same time her mind was working furiously. She was going to die on the island. But she wouldn't go down without a fight. First step, make them overconfident.

She stood uncertainly as if she had never been in a serious fight before and glanced over her shoulder and then swayed her body around as if to make a run for it. The man came at her in a rush.

She seemed to turn to him in horror as he sprinted along the beach to her. She looked frozen by terror, stuck to the spot. Palacus was too distracted to notice there was an unusual looseness in how she held herself. Calmness came over her as he ran up to grab her, the world contracted till she was only aware of him coming towards her and her training took over.

Judging the distance, she ducked down, and a little forward to meet him. She braced herself and wrapped her arms around his legs in a firm tackle as he ran up, but she was a bit to the side and she yielded just enough. As he went over, she lifted his legs a little just at the end.

Palacus was startled to find himself suddenly winded, in pain and with his face thrown hard down into the sand. The innocent, helpless girl he was chasing jumped nimbly onto his back.

She grabbed his hair, levering so hard against the back of his head that it brought tears to his eyes. She leaned her weight down on him to push his face further into the sand, holding a small but sharp knife to his throat.

The other boys said none of them had knives, the bitch had snatched a fish knife from his own boat.

"Don't move!" she growled menacingly.

Palacus laughed and twisted his head round to talk to her. "Well, well, you are a clever bitch! I never saw that coming. I won't even hold that against you if you start to play real nice to me now. I like a girl with spirit.

"You won't win this, girl! Not with that tiny little blade. There are six of us and we have much bigger and sharper weapons than that. You had better start learning manners around your betters or we'll make you real sorry. Now just let me up like a good girl. I'll teach you how you should treat a man."

He snatched at a wicked-looking knife in his belt and started to push himself up.

"I said, don't move!" Jacinta yelled and stabbed down as hard as she could and deep as she could into the muscle of his shoulder.

"The bitch stabbed me!" Palacus screamed and flopped back; his knife arm momentarily paralysed.

"What's next, your ear?" she asked, bending close as if she whispered to him, almost sensuously. She rubbed her blade against his ear, causing it to bleed, ignoring his cringing.

"Let Akhilleus go!" she shouted to his friends, levering up and looking behind herself. "If you don't, I'll stick this piece of crap, I will! Let him go now!"

Palacus yelled out, "Let the boy go!" He chuckled a little, moving his face out of the sand. "And I thought you were one of those nice girls, darling. You're nothing but a piece of Gypsy street-trash. Well, I suppose we'll have to let you go." He started to yell to his friends rapidly in his native language.

"Akhilleus!" Jacinta called out urgently, as she focused on the leader. "I can't see behind me, talk to me, NOW!"

"Jacinta, they're letting me go," he called back. "Stay back all of you, she means it!"

She heard Akhilleus running up to her.

The man on the ground was relaxed and grinning at Jacinta as if he was enjoying himself, despite his pain. He continued to yell in the same language which Jacinta didn't understand, but now he was using men's names. "Just telling them not to give you any trouble, darling," he said, and gave her a sweet smile. "We'll let you go!"

Jacinta nodded. "Yes, you're letting us go," she agreed.

She set her jaw firmly and tensed her body. Then she jerked the knife as hard and as deep as she could across his throat, holding his head with her left hand.

He tried to surge up but was only able to roll over as he looked at her with shock. He clutched desperately at his throat as if he could stop the bleeding but the artery was pumping blood past his fingers. He tried to rise but couldn't make it.

"She killed me, the bitch!" he shrieked, incredulous. "She killed me!" He managed to sit for a while, chocking, before flopping back in a faint.

Akhilleus looked at her in shock. "You killed him!" he screamed, completely horrified.

Jacinta kicked the knife away from the man's grasp and then walked over to pick it up. She passed it handle first to Akhilleus while carefully watching the man to make sure he was no longer a threat.

"Yes, I did," she said, unconcerned.

She glanced dispassionately at the man dying in the blood and the sand, and across at his friends who hadn't moved yet. Then she spun on Akhilleus in disgust.

"Listen to me! I'll explain it to you in case you don't understand! We are going to die. I don't think they realised from the start that they would have to kill us, but I certainly did.

"If I thought it would do you and me any good I would have let them all rape me over and over, as much as they wanted. But that wouldn't have kept you alive and it would have only kept me alive for a little while. They can't afford witnesses.

"I don't think they are bluffing about being pirates, so they have killed before. That man had decided he wasn't going to let us go, did you notice that?"

Akhilleus nodded a bit reluctantly, it was obvious.

Jacinta stared at him levelly. "There are now five of them. They are full-grown men. They will have proper weapons and know how to use them. There are two of us and we are children. We have one proper knife. Can you guess how this will end or are you too stupid for that?

"Let me tell you. They will kill you and then capture me, alive if they can, even if badly wounded. They will want their fun with me first and they will really want to hurt me for killing their leader. If they can't capture me, they will settle for killing me.

"Now, what about all of that do you have trouble understanding?" she shouted.

Akhilleus looked pale. He gasped and swallowed a few times. It was as if she had slapped him. Then he nodded jerkily; Jacinta was right.

Jacinta patted her friend on the shoulder with a grim smile. "We are not dead yet. If I can, I will make them regret they ever saw us and, who knows, there is always a chance. But you must do exactly as I say."

Akhilleus paused before nodding rapidly. Everything within him seemed to be screaming, "This isn't happening" … but it was.

He tried to shake himself back to reality. "Jacinta, I'm sorry to get you into this."

"Akhilleus! Just shut the crap, we don't have the time for it," she snarled as she scanned the island.

"We must think," she added softly.

She was watching the remaining men. They were shouting across to each other in their indecipherable language. One man had stayed near the first boat and he was now hefting a wicked-looking boat gaff. The other one from the boat was jogging to join three newcomers clustered around the tent. That's where they would keep their weapons.

At least they had held back to let their leader have his fun catching her. As she watched, one ducked in and emerged with several curved sabres. Now those four would come at them in a group.

Jacinta looked to the second boat, hoping. No gaff, but she saw a stout pole, maybe for casting off. It was just the right size for her.

"Wait here!" she shouted to Akhilleus, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as she sprinted for it.

As she jogged back, carrying the staff, Akhilleus asked, "What are you going to do?"

"What they least expect!" Jacinta whispered breathlessly and grinned.

"I'm going to attack!

"Keep well back from me, don't do anything stupid. I will need your help soon enough."

She jammed the small fishing knife in her belt and ran at the pirate who held the gaff. Her legs and chest were burning with the exertion of running in the sand. The pirate looked puzzled to see the girl running towards him, then she stopped, hesitating, as if unsure what to do.

The man, Anacharsis, laughed. "Well, well, little girl, just what did you think you were going to do with that silly pole? You got lucky with Palacus but you have made a terrible mistake killing him and I'm going to hurt you now, hurt you real bad."

He smiled broadly and stepped forward. He had the dangerous weapon with a spike on it. All he saw was a little girl with a pole. He shouted excitedly to his friends who paused to watch.

Good! Jacinta thought, wait and see your big friend with a gaff deal with a confused and frightened girl holding a useless pole. It didn't give her much time but it would have to be enough. After all, what could she do with a pole?

His friends were chanting his name as he started to circle. He tried to ram the gaff into her abdomen. He intended to wind her and then would probably pass the hook behind her and hook her hard in her flesh. If he could get the hook deep into her flesh it would leave her helpless.

Her endless hours of practice took over. She deftly deflected, avoiding the hook, and spun the pole to hit him a glancing blow behind the jaw. It wasn't powerful but it was a distraction. She followed the movement down and then rocked back up, using all her strength, punching the end of the pole, putting her whole body into it, hitting him just near the middle of his nose .

There was a soggy crunch, Anacharsis screamed and clutched at his ruined face. Jacinta threw her pole to one side and clutched for her small knife as she ran at him. As he clutched at his face in agony, he left his windpipe unguarded and she punched with the fishing knife as hard as she could. It made a sickly, crunching sound.

He dropped to his knees, grabbing at his throat, unable to breathe. His blood was spraying everywhere. He knocked Jacinta over in a panic as he tried to get to his feet again but only managed to stumble forward on his knees. He flopped face forward making gurgling noises as he lay dying in the blood and the sand.

Jacinta rolled smoothly back to her feet. It had taken barely a couple of hundred heart beats.

She saw Akhilleus was inspecting the gaff.

"Flatten it with those rocks. Try to make it into a spear!" she instructed, retrieving her pole and carefully taking the dying man's knife.

The dying man was beyond doing anything, his face was purple and his body had started to convulse.

Akhilleus jumped to obey her, quickly and expertly hammering the gaff using two nearby rocks. Good, Akhilleus had gotten over the shock and was with her now.

The four men in the camp were in shock. In just a few moments the small girl had killed first one and then two fully grown and armed men, both wicked fighters. They stood gaping, their mouths open. They made no immediate attempt to approach, yet. Then one smiled and shouted to his companions and gestured to her. She heard the Skythian word "Hamazan!" as they gestured at her and laughed in delight.

They began chanting "Hamazan" which in their language meant "fighting together". They were giving her honour. The Skythians valued their female warriors. But she had definitely lost the element of surprise.

If the four charged at them they would be overrun. Now her best hope was to make them cautious. She had blood sprayed all over her. She mussed her hair and let it out of its tie. She hoped she looked suitably crazy, like some mad witch or something.

She smiled at the men and gave them a friendly wave.

That should make them furious. She hoped her apparent lack of fear might make them hesitate at a vital moment and perhaps their anger might cause them to make a mistake. Akhilleus had straightened the boat gaff to a useable spike, bound tightly onto the pole with wire.

"What now?" he said grimly.

She tried to give him a reassuring smile but only managed a grimace.

She glanced longingly at the boat … no, it was too heavy. The men would be on them before they had finished launching it, and they would be easy to catch in the water.

"Stand near the edge of the water and give me a little room," she instructed, standing with Akhilleus on her right. "It's a staff I have, not a spear, so I will need more room than you. I'll cover your left side."

Jacinta planned to force the pirates to approach them over the soft sand while she and Akhilleus would have better footing on the hard, wet sand. The water would guard their back. They could move faster on the wet sand than a man could wade around them … but of course, they couldn't retreat.

They would have range advantage, but wood against slashing swords and four men against two children? They were definitely going to die.

Just then one of the men sheathed his sword and darted back into their shelter. That would mean only one thing. This was going to get worse and very quickly! It had always been too much to expect they only had swords.

"Change of plan!" Jacinta yelled just as he came out shouldering a quiver and notching an arrow to the small powerful bow. "Run! Run now! Follow me!"

Jacinta, her earlier tiredness forgotten, took off at speed for the little bit of scrub that the island had. It was no good for hiding but it would give partial cover and make it harder for the bow-man.

Unfortunately, the bow-man hung back and came slowly. He knew what he was doing. That wasn't a good sign at all.

He would allow his three friends to flush them out. The men approached them slowly now, cautiously, but the two children had nowhere else to go.

"Here!" Jacinta announced to Akhilleus as she ducked between the shrubs. She chose a small ravine about a third of the way up the hill to wait for the men. It was narrow, so it would be hard for two men to come at them together and the shrubs provided some cover against the bow-man.

As the men reached the hill they split up to encircle them and so come at them from either end, two on Jacinta's side, the bow-man and one other on Akhilleus's side.

Now or never! Jacinta thought as she saw her two moving closer. She couldn't swing her staff in the scrub so she would have to stab with it. She moved purposely towards the two pirates holding the staff underarm with two hands.

In the narrow space with the slope of the gully there wasn't really room for the men two abreast but they were keen to get this over with so were crowding each other. One was walking awkwardly, one foot on the upward slope.

Out of the corner of her eye, she had noticed the bow-man angling after Akhilleus but she had no time to worry about that just yet.

She feinted at the man on her right which made him block and stumble against his friend.

His friend tried to slash at Jacinta but she just ducked back, holding her pole two handed as far back as she could.

The man who slashed at her was off balance and his momentum carried him forward. Meanwhile her body swung back and then, like a pendulum, she rocked forward to meet the man. Digging her feet in firmly she rammed her pole at him with all her might. He couldn't dodge and it caught him hard in the centre of the chest. There was a solid whack with a crunching sound.

He made a strangled cry, bending over in agony, but didn't drop his weapon. She had cracked at least some ribs maybe even the breast bone.

His companion managed to nick her forearm superficially as she was scrambling back. She feinted at him and he jumped back warily.

Her mistake! She had been distracted by her successful hit. Lucky the man was off balance. If he had really hurt her, it would have been all over.

Her wrist was stinging dreadfully and blood was starting to drip from it, but she ignored it. Having managed to slow her pair she spun and ran to help Akhilleus.

It was then that she screamed.

Akhilleus was bailed up by one of the pirates with the bow-man moving around for an easy shot. When she cried out the bow-man spun round towards her. She swapped the pole to her left hand and flattened herself hard against the embankment, snatching at a clod of grass.

The swordsman was distracted by her appearance and he screamed as Akhilleus managed to spike him deep in the abdomen. But as the man collapsed into himself, the bow-man had a clear shot and he spun back to Akhilleus, drawing his bow. Akhilleus was helpless. He couldn't move quickly enough in the confined space with the loose footing and the bow-man was so close he wouldn't miss.

Jacinta stepped out and desperately slung the clod of grass over arm, like a sling. It was a good shot, hitting the bow-man above the ear. He was blinded by dirt and was trying to rub his eyes with the back of the hand holding the arrow.

She heard a noise behind her and spun, only just in time to dodge a slash from one of the remaining swordsmen. The other one that she had hurt was trying to get above her. Behind her she heard a cry out in agony but it was from a man's cry. She prayed Akhilleus had stabbed the bow-man.

The Skythian's swords were curved, sharp on one edge only, designed for slashing. They would be poor for stabbing and be hampered by the scrub, at least Jacinta prayed they would be.

She scrambled behind a bush and started to make for higher ground. The pole made it cumbersome but fear for her life lent her speed. As she did this she heard another man cry out, lower and fainter this time. Her heart leapt, Akhilleus was holding his own.

She struggled to keep the pole bearing towards the men and scrambled backwards closer to where Akhilleus was. She almost ran into him and he caught her in a hug.

"Thanks Jacinta! Only two left!" he called, excitedly grinning.

So he had killed the bow-man.

"Where's the bow?" she asked quickly.

He nodded down the slope.

Jacinta dropped her pole and scuttled down for it, desperately sliding in the sand and dirt while Akhilleus turned to face the remaining two.

He had kept the silly improvised spear and hadn't grabbed a sword.

Good boy, Akhilleus!

He didn't know how to fight with these swords and with two against one he needed the advantage of reach, but he needed to be wary and not allow them to break his weapon. The wood was not as thick as she would have liked.

The remaining men approached Akhilleus cautiously. The one higher up was in difficulty, clutching his chest and moving with obvious pain.

As Akhilleus backed away from them, the one still unhurt turned to see Jacinta running back towards him carrying the bow. She was still a distance off and didn't have a clear shot. But she had been trained by an elf.

Her arrow took him full in the chest and he screamed in agony, clutching at the arrow before crashing forward through the brush below to lie motionless.

The remaining Skythian was higher up the slope and moving awkwardly.

"We only wanted to have some fun with you!" he screamed at them.

"What now?" Akhilleus asked as Jacinta ran up to him, panting. He looked triumphant but scared.

"We go down! Now!" Jacinta yelled urgently. "We leave him!"

"Shouldn't we go after him? He's the last one," Akhilleus asked, confused. He couldn't believe they were going to live.

Jacinta grabbed him by the shoulders and looked into his face. "Think, Akhilleus! The last one can't catch us by himself. We have the bow, just in case. We didn't come here to kill them.

"We only ever wanted to stay alive and get away. Now we can. We will not change our plan in the middle of all this. I think we would have a good chance against him, but if he kills one of us what would we be dying for?

"Just think! He'll be fighting for his life and we won't be. Remember what we were able to do when we were fighting for our lives? Can you kill an injured man when you don't need to, or are you going to try to take a grown man prisoner? Or try to force him to show us where their money is hidden? Whatever money they have isn't worth our lives.

"Do you suddenly believe you are an expert in fighting in rough terrain? I'm certainly not. Have you made sure all the others are dead? Do you want to do that first? Are you sure there is not a third boat coming?

"What do you think, Akhilleus? That we are great warriors all of a sudden? Don't fool yourself! We are two kids, nothing more. We should not be alive. It's a gift from Apollōn, let's not waste it.

"Now we will run, as fast as we can, and nothing else! I'm not even going to try to damage the other boat. We'll send soldiers back for him but I don't care if he gets away.

"I just want to live, Akhilleus," she finished, starting to cry a little.

Akhilleus nodded understanding and shook his head in admiration. "You never stop thinking, do you Jacinta, you're such a cold-hearted bitch!"

Jacinta stumbled and hunched forward.

It felt like he had hit her! The horrible way she had treated him, the horror of cutting those men's throats. She had done it coldly, as if it didn't matter at all. She had shown him what she really was, she was a cold-hearted monster.

She felt deeply weary and very sad. Her body was trembling with reaction. Her eyes were blurring with tears. She expected Akhilleus to shove her away in utter disgust.

Instead he grabbed her and fiercely hugged her to him and then tilted her face up and kissed her long and hard on the mouth.

"And … you really need to wash your face, Jacinta. You look terrible," he said, ruffling her hair affectionately. He hugged her possessively and swept her along as they walked back to the waiting boats.

It made her feel wonderful and safe in his arms. She started to cry with relief. It was a joke, she realised. Cold-hearted bitch was alright.! She smiled and clutched at him as they walked.

As they neared the beach they saw a sleek warship pulled up and some very business-like men jumping down and spreading out. Jacinta gasped and pushed away from Akhilleus, snatching for an arrow and lifting the bow.

"Don't shoot!" Akhilleus yelled urgently. "It's one of ours!"

Esdras, the commander of the Triērēs, had been despatched when they didn't return. The men that had rescued them had a very unsavoury reputation. It was an open secret they been part of a group of pirates who had variously worked the Mediterranean and the Black Sea.

Now Akhilleus took things in hand and gave a succinct professional-sounding report to Esdras of all that had happened. Jacinta was left to herself.

She felt something coming over her like a physical sensation. She felt hollow and aching, as if her heart had been cut out of her. A dark, melancholic feeling settled over her like a blanket, smothering everything, weighing her down.

What was happening to her?

She felt lost and could hardly think. She had never felt anything like this, it was overwhelming. Had she been poisoned? She sucked at her wound and spat it out.

A bit late for that, girl, she thought.

She hardly noticed passing the bow and quiver to one of the men, as she walked woodenly to the water to wash. Her body was only moving slowly, as if she was in one of those strange dreams. She was trembling uncontrollably hardly aware she was. She felt weary right through.

Perhaps she had caught a chill from her immersion. Did that explain it?

All she could think of was going away from all these people. She wanted to hide, alone like a wounded animal.

Esdras was sending men to search different parts of the island. One of the men Akhilleus thought he had killed was still alive and the last of the pirates with the chest injury was captured without a fight. Esdras wanted to make sure they hadn't been doing any more pirating but it seemed as they said, they just wanted some fun before they left. They would both be hung when he got them back to Troia.

Jacinta didn't remember walking into the water and was barely aware she was sitting down, with the water high to her chest. She listlessly tried to wash her face and clothes. Why was everything so difficult?

Esdras appeared standing next to her in the water. "Are you injured?" he said gently.

"Not really, sir," Jacinta managed. In her misery, she wasn't even able to look at him. "I was nicked on the arm. They wouldn't use poison for any reason would they?"

Esdras barked an order to his men to question the captives and check their weapons. He bent carefully to examine her wound. He checked her colour and pulse. Her pulse was racing but strong, no more than he would expect. Her breathing was fast, but deep if anything and her colour was good.

"No, they didn't use poison or foul their weapons in any way. That's not it," he reassured the girl.

"I have been in the water and took my jacket off to distract them. I feel so cold. I must have got a chill," Jacinta told him faintly, her head bowed.

"I see," Esdras said as he helped her up. "Perhaps you shouldn't sit in the water, then."

Jacinta stared up at him dully, uncomprehending.

Esdras was an experienced soldier and knew very well what was wrong. He pulled her up and steered her to the shore. He noted how she stood listlessly, huddled into herself.

"From what young Akhilleus says the two of you gave a good account of yourself. He speaks very well of you, you know. I hope this doesn't make the two of you overconfident."

"No sir, we were luckier than we had any right to be. We should be dead." Everything was spinning, it was hard to think. It seemed she was sinking into a deep pit.

"There's that, there's certainly that," Esdras admitted. "Though it sounds like you made your own luck. Why didn't you go after the last one? You had the bow."

"To capture him or kill him, sir?" Jacinta asked. It was hard to assemble her thoughts; she could hear her voice as if from far away. "He was still dangerous. We didn't need to, sir. We just wanted to get away.

"I just wanted to get away." She was pleading with the man, trying to make him understand.

Esdras smiled. "That's what I hoped you'd say. You're a smart girl, Jacinta, and it's true all they say about you. I'm glad you didn't let a combination of luck and courage go to your head.

"Your parents are very proud of you, you know."

At mention of her parents Jacinta let out a small moan.

She was having trouble seeing the commander and wondered why. She wiped at her eyes and she realised she was crying.

"My p-parents," she said, struggling to keep her voice even. "I want-t …" She couldn't continue.

"You've been a very brave young girl. It's been terrible for you," Esdras said kindly.

It was the worst thing he could have said to her.

She lost all control.

She flung herself into the fatherly commander's arms, helplessly sobbing. After an unknown period, she was vaguely aware she was being bundled up in a blanket and lifted into the boat. Someone she couldn't see cleaned and bandaged her arm.

"Poor bugger, she's only thirteen! Those bastards." she heard Esdras cursing.

"She killed three of them herself. Can you believe it? She's only a girl." Another voice came from somewhere else.

She wanted to shout out that she wasn't just a girl. She was older than she seemed. She was to be a warrior. She was to be a paladin! She was trained to control herself in these situations.

But she couldn't stop helplessly sobbing and shuddering violently. She felt so weak and foolish, but couldn't do otherwise.

As the boat was pushed away from the shore, she found she had been passed to Akhilleus. He opened his blanket to include his young friend. She curled up in his arms, clutched at the older boy and cried and cried onto his shoulder.

Akhilleus noticed she was struggling to say something and waited patiently.

"They k-killed my f-family!" she whispered hoarsely into his chest. That was all she could manage for the moment.

After a while she managed to talk again. "They killed them, f-for n-no reason. M-m-mother, f-f- father, b-brother and sister. They killed them all.

"He was on a horse, ch-chasing … He was going to k-kill me too. I didn't know … I didn't want … ever again!"

Akhilleus simply hushed and rocked her. He hadn't heard the story. He realised she was talking about when she became an orphan. He held her as the boat made its way from the island.

"I was so scared," Jacinta said, looking up at him.

He wondered if she meant on the beach or when her family was murdered; it didn't matter. He rocked her, murmuring softly, as he had done for his small sister whenever she was scared.

" Kn-knife … n-not same. H-horrible. Close. I could see … I can still see them! That man, he couldn't breathe, he didn't want to die." She collapsed again, sobbing and shaking violently. "Akhilleus!" she cried in anguish. "His b-blood is on me."

After she had mostly cried herself out, she poked her head out and looked up at Akhilleus again. She was deeply ashamed. Her eyes ached from crying, they would be red and her face grubby and streaked. She still had blood on her face and her hair. Her hair was out of its tie and all over the place. Even her nose was running. She wiped it on a corner of the blanket they were given.

She must have looked a complete wreck.

"I … I'm … I need to be better than this! What must you think of me?"

She had held herself rigid, waiting for his judgement.

Akhilleus smiled at her. "Me? I think you're the most wonderful girl I have ever met in my life. I don't know if I will ever know anyone better.

"Sorry for calling you a cold-hearted bitch." He kissed her again gently on the lips and cuddled her.

He felt the rigidity go out of her and she sighed heavily. Jacinta relaxed, feeling safe in his arms. She felt accepted, loved.

She jerked up when the boat rocked, she must have fallen asleep! How could that happen? She clutched at Akhilleus again and sighed contentedly, as the men rowed them home

 

 

Chapter 8: Human Still, a Handsome Visitor, and the Young 'Amazōn

Jacinta was desperately (and unsuccessfully) trying to sulk.

It was already late morning and she was confined to bed. She wasn't really hurt ... she should be back in training.

When Jacinta came back from the Hellespontos, wrapped in a blanket and in a complete mess, Zoe had walked in the middle of it all and had taken charge of the distraught girl. And now she would brook no argument.

This morning, Jacinta had prepared herself for a confrontation with the old woman over her confinement to bed. She went through all the reasons with Timo.

Starting with "You can't treat me like a child!" through to important things like "prophecy" and "paladins". There were rational arguments ranging from "What good will it do?" to a learned discussion on the training of young warriors … there were even excuses, desperate pleading and flattery!

But when Zoe just bustled in with a list of instructions which she delivered in rapid succession, Jacinta was caught with having taken a deep breath and holding her mouth open, ready. But all she was able to say was "Yes, Zoe" and the woman was gone.

Zoe hadn't even paused to ask Jacinta's opinion.

Jacinta turned to Timo, her mouth still open, and a look of utter amazement on her face, as if to say, "Did you see that, too? How did that happen?"

Timo breathlessly laughed at her friend. "I told you, Jacinta. You'll just have to get used to the idea of having a rest."

Jacinta smiled ruefully back at her friend and shrugged helplessly. After making a complete idiot of herself on the way back to Troia, perhaps she deserved to be treated like a child.

And now she was vainly trying to conceal how much she was enjoying being pampered. It did feel restful and healing, to be surrounded by those who loved her.

Honey cakes for breakfast, and just how she liked them. With hot milk in a mug and served in bed.

Her mother had been with her most of the morning, and after a lot of hugs and kisses they had talked and talked. And she was going to come later to tell her a story about the old elves! She hadn't had this much time with her mother since they were fleeing for their lives. She hadn't realised how much she had missed it.

Sometime after Elena had gone, Hakeem came in looking relaxed, and drew up a chair by the bed. At a meaningful glance between him and Timo, Timo left them to it. She smiled at her father. He was preparing to give her one of those talks, she realised.

"Are you alright?" Hakeem asked gently.

Jacinta smiled a little glumly. "After I completely humiliated myself in the boat, you mean? Everyone is treating me like a child now.

"I suppose I deserve that!"

A look of pain passed across Hakeem's face. He made an effort to smile at her but only managed to look sad. "You are a child, Jacinta. Please don't be ashamed of that."

Jacinta was shocked to see the effect her remark had on him. He had gripped the chair arm hard and was staring into the distance, his eyes moist.

"By the Gods, what sort of childhood am I giving my daughter?" he said, half to himself.

Jacinta clutched urgently at her father's hands and sat forward to look searchingly into his face.

Her mother felt guilty getting Jacinta involved in the prophecy. It was silly, Jacinta's role was ordained. She remembered Hakeem had said he wanted her to have a normal childhood, something he never had. It was why he tried to get her adopted into the Gypsy family.

Jacinta felt the big man's large hand in hers, she could feel his calluses.

"Father, I never regret for one minute my life with you or Mother. Besides, without the training I would be raped or dead, likely both."

Hakeem nodded and smiled, Jacinta was right. He rocked a bit back to study her.

"It was a mistake getting on that raft. Even a mistake that is easily made can get you killed, always remember that. You think you made a fool of yourself afterwards, do you?" he said, as if pondering the statement. "From all I hear you gave a good account of yourself. I have had a long talk with Akhilleus.

"As your teacher, you know I wouldn't lie to you about this. So listen to me very carefully. It would not be possible for me to be more proud of you and by that I mean all you did yesterday."

Jacinta was puzzled, and flushed. "But ..."

Hakeem smiled and put his finger to her lips to silence her. He leaned forward and gave her a lingering soft kiss on the forehead and then eased her down so he could tuck the blanket around her shoulders. It felt like he used to do, like he still did whenever he could.

"I never expected to be affected like that," Jacinta started. "I was so afraid and felt so alone, and it was so horrible, killing men by cutting their throats while you face them up close. But if I am to be a warrior, I must be stronger than that."

Hakeem just laughed; it was so unexpected.

"Welcome to the human race, Jacinta. You had feelings. Do you remember what I have told you about being afraid?"

"Oh," Jacinta said as she suddenly understood. "Being brave isn't about not having fear. True courage is doing something even though you are afraid," she said, realising. "I guess it's the same here. I felt so terrified and what I had to do was so horrible. It didn't seem to affect me at the time, only afterwards."

Hakeem nodded. "There was no time for those feelings when you were in the middle of the danger, they would have got you and your friend killed. I knew a man who ran to save a friend without knowing he had a broken ankle. A bit like that, without knowing you blocked out your feelings because your lives were at stake, but they were still there. You feel ashamed that you felt them later when it was safe to do so.

"Don't you think I might be more than just a little concerned if my thirteen-year-old daughter could cut a man's throat and think nothing of it?"

Jacinta laughed. "Put that way, I see what you mean. I always dreamed one day I would become a strong, brave warrior and nothing could touch me."

"Nothing? Like what happened to your family?"

"Akhilleus told you that, too?" Jacinta shook her head and chuckled helplessly. "I'll have to have a very stern talk to that boy! I'm not as tough as I thought. I never wanted to feel that way again." Jacinta sounded for a moment like a little girl lost, as it hit her again.

"Thank you for rescuing me, Hakeem. And thank you for loving me." She smiled at him, a little tearfully but not minding this time.

"And thank you for everything you are, little daughter." Hakeem laughed and kissed her again. "Were you angry, Jacinta?"

"No," Jacinta said in wonder as she considered. "And I'm still not. I was almost frozen with fear. Killing them was so awful, but I would do it again and again and again. I really only wanted to get away.

"I didn't go after the last one who was injured." She hesitated. "I'm becoming like you!" she realised. "Does it get easier, killing people? It didn't seem to affect me this badly before."

"Yes, it does get easier, it can get very easy. That's one of the worst dangers people like you or I can ever face. That and anger.

"It can get so easy to kill that it becomes a trivial thing to do, or even enjoyable. That would be the end of what we are. That's why we need our faith. Akhilleus called you a cold-hearted bitch. He feels guilty about that. He thinks it was partly him that upset you. Don't be upset, that you aren't that cold hearted yet. I haven't reached there yet despite what a lot of people think of me."

He enfolded her completely in his arms and whispered, "Cold hearted bitch!" and started to tickle her through the blanket. Soon the two were having a boisterous wrestling match on the bed. Zoe looked in for a moment but she had a broad smile as she watched the father and daughter playing together.

As Hakeem was leaving, Jacinta asked whether she had to continue with the enforced rest.

"It's Zoe's orders!" Hakeem replied with a laugh and a gesture of hopelessness. "What can I possibly do against Zoe?"

Then he continued more seriously. "Zoe, in her own area, is wise.

"It's normal to block feelings out after such a bad experience. That's the mind protecting you and allowing you to function, but it means you don't know how much you are affected. For that you will have to trust those who love you.

"Immediately after a horrible experience what you need is the love of friends and family. You need to rest and put some distance between yourself and what happened.

"For a while you may need to forget and realise life beyond the horror of what happened is still good.

"It's best not to force yourself to remember or talk about it at first, unless of course you want to. Let your mind guide you in that.

"Later, you may feel the need to talk about it. And if it is persistently bothering you, I'll teach you what to do. You already know some of that already.

"Don't worry, neither Zoe nor I will allow you to rest for too long. Enjoy it while you can."

* * *

They must be lining up to visit, Jacinta thought, amused despite herself.

They didn't seem to want to give her much rest, apart from being a prisoner in her bed! She had to admit, though, she was enjoying the company.

She had even had a visit from Leandros, Euripides and Hypatos. The king's sons would be joining their older brother at Abydos soon. They hadn't had much to do with Jacinta since she arrived. They hadn't known how to take her, and she was a girl.

Now they really wanted to talk to her.

They seemed excited by what had happened, and a little envious. As if fighting for your life was some sort of fun. But it at least broke the ice between her and Leandros's younger boys and she received their visit gratefully.

Everyone seemed to be thoroughly briefed on Akhilleus's version of events. She didn't yet know all of what he was saying. Timo would not tell her, except to say it made her sound like she was some sort of 'h'rwas (hero/heroine)!

She really had to give that boy a good talking to.

It was after the royal visit that Timo came in with a strange smirk on her face. She was carrying something behind her back. "Does my Lady feel well enough to receive a visitor?" Timo enquired loudly, for the benefit of whomever was waiting patiently just out of sight.

The "lady" in the bed stuck out her tongue.

"There is a young gentleman that's come calling, my Lady," Timo explained loudly.

'Who is it?' Jacinta mouthed urgently, sitting up in bed.

'You'll just have to see,' Timo mouthed back.

'How do I look?' Jacinta mouthed desperately. Timo smiled and nodded encouragingly.

"And look at this!" Timo made a production of showing Jacinta the bunch of flowers she was hiding behind her back.

"Oh! They are beautiful!" Jacinta gasped. She had forgotten young men sometimes did that, but usually for their sweetheart. "Please don't keep me in suspense any longer," she pleaded.

After a pause Timo announced grandly, "I will see the young gentleman in then, my Lady."

Jacinta's heart was hammering and she was breathing rapidly. Was it Aison?

But she wasn't ready for her reaction when she saw Akhilleus shuffle in shyly.

Her heart leapt and she felt weak and flushed all over. Was she falling in love with Aison's best friend?

Akhilleus blushed. "I hope you don't mind, after all you've been through, but I really wanted to see you."

"Thank you for the flowers, Akhilleus, they are so beautiful. And I am pleased you came to see me," Jacinta said shyly, admiring the flowers and smelling them before giving them to Timo to find a vase. "And thank you … for what you did for me last night." She felt her face was on fire and her voice caught.

Timo had taken a strategic position near the door.

"Timo?" Jacinta enquired of her maid. "Didn't you have some toilets to unblock, or a cess pit to dig out? … or do you want me to find something?" she asked, smiling dangerously.

I don't need a chaperone, Timo!

'Good luck! He's nice!' Timo mouthed from the door as she retreated. Jacinta determinedly struggled not to let her exasperation and amusement with Timo spill over into her conversation with Akhilleus.

"You saved my life, don't forget," Akhilleus started. "I wanted to come and apologise."

"Apologise? It's me that should apologise," said Jacinta, feeling another blush of heat in her face as she sat up straighter in her bed. "I was so nasty to you and then I made a complete fool of myself."

"No! No! No! Jacinta! I froze when you killed that first man. For a moment I couldn't believe it was happening," Akhilleus said softly, ashamed. "It was! You had to tell me it was. You had to shock me out of it or we would be dead. Don't worry, even then a part of me knew what you were doing and why.

"I heard you feel embarrassed for being so upset afterwards. You're the only one who thinks badly of yourself. If you're right in feeling embarrassed, it means the whole world must be wrong. If you hadn't got in first, I would have cried myself."

Jacinta laughed at the image.

The whole world being wrong, if she should be ashamed of herself. It was again the sort of thing her father would have said.

"When you got upset, it gave me a chance to give something back to you, after all you had done for me. It made me feel better about myself, if you can understand.

"You saved my life and you will always be one of my very best friends, no matter what. Please don't take it wrong, but I felt scared of what you were till then. You acted like you didn't feel anything when you killed those men. Now I know what it cost you, but you did it anyway. Now I know that, I just can't describe how wonderful I think you are, Jacinta."

It reminded her of what her father had been trying to explain to her earlier.

"Welcome to the human race?" she suggested with a tentative smile. "You've never been in a kill-or-be-killed situation before. I have, far too many times," she admitted ruefully. "I knew you were having a reaction. Most get it when they face real action the first time, but with a few harsh words you came out of it pretty quick.

"I was glad you were there with me, Akhilleus. If I had any of the others, apart from maybe Aison, I would be dead. We helped each other, we are human and we are friends." She smiled, feeling her eyes fill again. "That's what friends do for each other. If I ever need anyone to watch my back, I'll be glad if it's you again.

"Now, if I promise to forgive myself, will you promise to forgive yourself too? Take it from me, you're the sort of person anyone will be lucky to have by their side in a dangerous situation."

Akhilleus let out his breath in a rush, hardly knowing he was holding it. He gave her that dazzling smile of his which made her feel weak all over once again.

He coughed, thoroughly embarrassed. "I took advantage of you. I mean … you're Aison's girlfriend and he's my friend ..." Akhilleus ran out of words.

"Akhilleus!" Jacinta growled warningly. "If you are going to say you regret kissing me, I'll get Timo to fetch me a weapon. I really mean it! Aison doesn't own me and I'm not his girlfriend." She glared at him, feeling absolutely furious.

And … he laughed in her face!

"No, I don't regret kissing you or holding you. I thought I might say that, but it would be a lie. It felt fantastic, really. I just feel … confused."

Jacinta counted to ten, feeling the anger draining away.

"We are just friends, Akhilleus, but the same goes for Aison," Jacinta said firmly. "I'll be the one deciding when I'm someone's girl, not you or Aison or anyone else, understood?

"Last night we did kiss, but that doesn't mean we are boyfriend and girlfriend. I was desperately in need of a friend. Thank you, Akhilleus. As to the kiss," she smiled as she thought back and touched her finger to his lips. "I really enjoyed it, especially the first one. You're such a great kisser. I'm glad I don't have to kill you because it would be a terrible waste. Has anyone ever told you that you are a great kisser?"

"It was my first time," Akhilleus admitted shyly, smiling.

"My second, the other boy was when I was twelve," Jacinta admitted.

Akhilleus looked shocked. "I thought Aison ..."

Jacinta shook her head.

"Nonetheless, you're sort of 'with' Aison at present," Akhilleus said firmly. "We are all friends so let's not spoil it. If you and Aison break up, let me be the first to know. … well, the second … or the third, I guess after you and Aison. But until that time, we both have to be careful around each other."

Jacinta nodded, trying not to show how disappointed she was. Why was Akhilleus so sensible? She could hardly have both Aison and Akhilleus at the same time, could she?

Well, er … could she?

They sat chatting for a while and they were able to talk a bit about what had happened. It didn't seem as upsetting in the light of day with Akhilleus there. Jacinta threatened him over the "heroine stories". Akhilleus teased that he was frightened by her threats …

Jacinta felt absolutely wonderful when Akhilleus left and he looked happy.

Timo was not supposed to be listening outside but she immediately stalked in to give Jacinta a piece of her mind. How could she let such a handsome boy get away?

"We are just friends," Jacinta tried to tell her.

"Just friends! If you think that, you don't have eyes in your head, girl. Didn't you see the way he was around you? I say you should have given him that 'look' of yours. You know what I mean, or that lovely smile. You could have had him exactly where you wanted, I'm sure.

"You need to learn how to use your best weapons, and I definitely don't mean those silly boy-things you keep sweating around in the heat and dust with."

"He's right I'm sort of 'with' his best friend." Jacinta sighed regretfully.

"'Sort of'!" Timo said indignantly. "Unless you're betrothed, no one owns you."

Timo would be seventeen in a few months and talked like a bold, experienced woman. But Jacinta had seen how shy she was around some of the older handsome men.

"I'm only thirteen!" Jacinta pleaded desperately.

"Never too soon to start!" Timo said firmly to her young friend.

* * *

Jacinta was glad to be on the way back to training. She enjoyed the pampering, but even though there was only one day of enforced bed rest, by the fourth and final day she was feeling like a prisoner in the palace. She was longing to stretch her muscles and exercise till she was sweating and breathing hard.

"Here she comes!" one of the younger boys yelled out excitedly as she neared the training yard. She arrived to find everyone lined up to greet her.

"Ena, Zio, Tria ! ..." Akhilleus counted.

"'Amazōn! 'Amazōn! 'Amazōn!" The boys sang out in unison and then began to clap and cheer and stamp their feet. It was the Greek adaptation from Skythian: 'Amazōn or plural 'Amazónes'.

It was a curse word in Athēnai, but these boys were shouting it out with pride.

Jacinta was caught between feeling touched by their affection and dying of embarrassment. Akhilleus was too clever in understanding her, by half. He knew exactly the effect it would have on her.

She paused, crouching on the path, hiding her head with her hands. Akhilleus and a couple of others ran forward to her to grab her before she could run away. They dragged her, reluctant, yet laughing to present her to the rest of her friends.

She looked around to see Aison, but he wasn't there. "He's confined to home as the ring-leader of our little trip," Akhilleus whispered, seeing her looking around.

So that's why Aison hadn't visited her.

The boys excitedly clustered around to congratulate her. All Jacinta could do was smile shyly with everyone talking at once.

Just out of reach, Akhilleus was grinning at her and laughing. She mouthed "I'll kill you!" and he laughed back.

* * *

It was midday and they were having a break in Jacinta's honour after a morning of light exercise. Hermokrates had supplied juice, cheeses, pastries, bread, cakes, olives and fruit.

"So I was terrified," Akhilleus was recounting his adventures to a wide circle of boys, clearly enjoying himself. "I thought they were going to kill me then rape Jacinta. I looked to Jacinta for reassurance and all she said was 'we are going to die'."

Everyone laughed and Jacinta felt embarrassed. Then she said, "Akhilleus, I think they mean to kill me and then rape you."'