The Last City of the Dwarves: The Paladin Chronicles, #7

By Neil Port

18+ Sword & Sorcery Epic Fantasy. The exciting conclusion to the Paladin Chronicles.

Jacinta must journey into the magnificent Caucasus Mountains in search of the lost city of the dwarves. There she must face Æloðulf, the greatest sorcerer the world has ever seen, a being that no one can possibly defeat.

Worse, she will be forced to wear the armour which will drink her immortal soul.

Meanwhile, the monster army that was trapped for so long in the city has found a way to get out. Soon, no where will be safe and Hakeem and Kynane find themselves trapped within the mountains with a small force.   

"Truly epic ... incredible. Page after page of gorgeous foreign lands and sweeping magical adventures. Action scenes are peppered with exciting prose and a snappy narrative style that helps the action move as sharply as the warriors do...highly recommended". 5 stars R.Fav.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Neil Port
• Release date: Jan 17, 2020
• ISBN: 9798223582519

Neil Port

Neil has been a day dreamer all his life, writing unpublished stories from the age of nine. He retired from a medical career to write and play a little bad golf. When his wife, dog and family allow him, he loves staring out the window and disappearing into a world of swords, warriors, warrior women and elves or bashing away at his computer. A love of ancient history and civilizations has resulted in his fantasy series being set in exotic locations in ancient times.

Book preview

The Last City of the Dwarves

Book 7

The Paladin chronicles

2nd  Ed

Neil Port

Copyright © Neil Port, March 2023

all rights reserved

1st Ed. Copyright ‎ 2020

Contents

The Last City of the Dwarves

Author’s Notes

Chapter 1: The Kéntauroi

Chapter 2: Wintering in Telaiba and a very Pleasant Interlude.

Chapter 3: The Woman with no Name

Chapter 4:  Getting Ready

Part B: The Great Mountains

Chapter 1: The Abano Pass

Chapter 2: The Northern Foothills.

Chapter 3: The Settlement of the Deity

Chapter 4: The Death of Hester

Chapter 5: The Abano Pass, and Death on the Mountain

Chapter 6: Attacked

Part C: The Road to the Lost City

Chapter 1: The Hidden Valley

Chapter 2: The Bridge at Tsaro

Chapter 3: The T’sova Gorge.

Chapter 4: Jvarboseli

Chapter 5: Fortifying Omalo

Chapter 6: The Entrance to the Last City

Chapter 7: Jvarboseli and Dadikurta

Chapter 8: The Last City

Part D: The Last Battle of the War

Chapter 1:  A Massive Army

Chapter 2:  The Road Ends

Chapter 3:  Empty

Afterword: Shakti and Akhilleus

Excerpt: The Quest of a Mad God, (Prologue)

Author’s Notes

Location and links: This story is set in the scenic Caucasus Mountains (in our world part of Georgia and southern Chechnya). I have given some internet links to some of the spectacular sights that provide the backdrop to my story, they will work on computers and ‘i pads’ but sadly not e-readers.

The history is somewhat different in Jacinta’s world to our own (of course) and I have taken some (small) liberties in my description of Omalo.

The Caucasus, some Pre history and Ancient History

The Caucasus region is a cross roads, and its current population include people from many of the surrounding regions (Persians, Russian and other Eastern Slavic people, Ossetians (‘Alans’) and so on) as well as indigenous Caucasians.

The main indigenous peoples of the southern and north eastern Caucasus arrived from eastern Anatolia (modern day Turkey) that powerhouse of Neolithic culture (around 8,000 BC). They brought herding and agriculture. It was they that first tamed the grape, building their settlements on naturally fortified rivers and hillsides.

The first of two main groups started in a relatively small corner of North Eastern Turkey and Western Georgia. In our world, they became the ancestors of the Kartvelians (Georgians) and at a later time, they spread to dominate what is modern day Georgia.

The second group was part of a great people. By 4,000 BC they had established an advanced civilisation and, for a time, they dominated a vast swathe of territory: some of northern Mesopotamia, Eastern Georgia, the North-eastern Caucasus, the Armenian highlands, the Ararat Plains (later becoming Urartians), spreading as far as Western Persia.

Some of these people remained in (and/or returned to) Anatolia (later becoming the powerful Hattians and some, to the east, the Hurrians).

While archaeologists have given different, sometimes regional, names for local variations of this great culture, it also stretched across the north where it extended to the edge of the Great Eurasian Steppe. 

In various guises over local regions and over time it lasted thousands years, propelled by advances in agriculture and metallurgy. In our world the last remnants in the North (called the ‘Koban culture’) finally succumbed to the (Aryan) Scythians in the ‘Iron Age 11’ period, about 400 BC.

Alongside their more civilised neighbours were the rugged individualists (Kartvelians, Vainakh and Circassians) who lived deep in the mountains where they turned to herding and subsistence farming. They developing different breeds of sheep more suitable to foraging on the steep slopes, and they developed a form of transhumance (migrating their herds between summer and winter pastures). They became the people of the deep mountains, very tough people, generous and fiercely independent.

The Vainakh in the deep mountains survived the collapse of the great Caucasian civilisation, with its farming and terraces, to later return to reclaim some of their ancestral lands in the North (presumably allying with any survivors). In Chechnya this was the foothills, river valleys and the rolling plains of the southern-most part of the Great Steppe.

They became the ancestors of the North Eastern Caucasians: the Chechens, the Ingush, the Dagestani people. In our world they built great defensive towers and semi fortified villages. They were one of the few people able to resist successive waves of savage invaders but often at enormous cost to themselves and their lands.

This included the Alans (Aryans) through to the 7th century who they later allied with against the Turks and Mongols (13th and 14th centuries). They also doggedly resisted the Russians, beginning (1722 onwards through to the Chechen wars).

Time and various invaders were even more unkind to their greater descendants in the South. They, with few exceptions, became absorbed by other peoples.

(For completeness I should mention a megalithic culture in the north west of the Caucasus, possibly the ancestors of the fiercely independent Circassians who later occupied the some of the same area. The bulk of the mainly Muslim Circassians were expelled from their mountain villages (‘auls’) by the Russians in a tragic episode called the ‘Circassian Genocide’ 1864-1867 but they don’t feature in this story).

The Ancient People of the Caucasus

Vainakh in their dialect means ‘our people’ and (as mentioned) they became the Ingush, Chechens and the Dagestani people.

The Chechens and Dagestani, in our world most absorbed (Sunni) Islam starting in the 16th century, in no small part as a counter to (Christian) Russian Imperialism.

Here is an article (and a map) published after the Boston Bombings https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/worldviews/wp/2013/04/19/9-questions-about-chechnya-and-dagestan-you-were-too-embarrassed-to-ask/

A small ‘colony’ of Vainakh once lived in the T’sova Gorge, part of the Georgian Tusheti region and were called the ‘Batsbi people’. Another ‘colony’ living in the Pankisi Gorge of modern day Georgia and were called the ‘Kists’

Kartvelians (Georgians) in our world are a Christian indigenous people mainly occupying Georgia (the name ‘Georgia’ does not come from the Greek word for earth/farmer, as one would expect, but from a Middle Persian word for ‘wolves’).

Azeri (Azerbaijanis) were originally a mix of endogenous Caucasians and Persians (Aryans). In Jacinta’s time (roughly 330 BC) they were similar to the Vainakh and Kartvelians in culture, but with a stronger Persian/ Zoroastrian influence.

In our world, they began absorbing Christianity from neighbouring Christian Armenia (Gregory the Illuminator, 4th century) but then later switched to (Shia) Islam from Persia, absorbing Turkish language and culture from an influx of Turkic tribes (1030 onwards).

They are often referred to as ‘Turkic’ as a result. They live mainly in Azerbaijan on the Caspian coast and the adjoining region of Iran (Persia) and their allegiances fall somewhere between Turkey and Iran.

Alans (the Ossetians) were Aryan pastoralists. There were Aryans to the north since ancient times but this group largely arrived after being displaced from Central Asia by the growing power of the Turks. They were pushed further West  where they became important in history but some remained in the Caucasus. There their population suffered terribly at the hands of the hands of the Turks, Mongols and finally Timur.

Indo-Europeans and the (later) Aryans.

The mainstream view is that the Indo-Europeans appeared in late Neolithic times in the Great Eurasian Steppe. They tamed the horse and used them to haul their wheeled carts. This was a major innovation for nomadic herders, making them more mobile, enabling them to spread out over wider and drier areas, increasing their numbers, fostering trade, innovation and likely warfare.

They eventually dominated  Europe, and conquering the first Neolithic peoples of Europe that had originally come from Neolithic Anatolia. In the East, they spread as far as northern and western China.

As already mentioned, the more nomadic, herding, Indo-Europeans to the north of the Caucasus (called at the time the ‘Yamnaya culture’) drove the early (more sedentary) Caucasians (called at that time the Maykop culture) back into the foothills.

(Sometime in ancient history Indo-Europeans penetrated through the main trading routes of the Caucasus to reach Armenia and beyond.)

The battle between these two groups was the start of a titanic struggle backwards and forwards that lasted thousands of years before the civilised Caucasians (then called the Koban Culture) finally succumbed to what we call the ‘Scythians’ (an Aryan, Indo-European tribe) maybe as late as 400 BC.  (The time periods are different in Jacinta’s world).

The power of the Scythians waned, the Vainakhs (now mainly sheep herders and subsistence farmers) returned to the foothills in the north and east of the Greater Caucasian mountains, unaware that they were a remnant of a once great people.

But wasn’t it all glaciers in the deep mountains in the Neolithic Period,

8,000 years ago?

Glacial Periods are when the sheets of ice and glaciers are extensive, they are colloquially referred to as ‘Ice Ages’ but the technical definition of an Ice Age is thick sheets of ice over the poles.

We are currently in a warm (interglacial) period within an Ice Age (that had been deepening over the last 3 million years).  Since the last Glacial Period (roughly 12,000 years ago) there was at first a rapid warming (with lots of fluctuations, some large) to an average above what we have today then a progressive decline towards cooling, until the very sudden shift to warming caused by the burning fossil fuels and clearing of forests.

It takes time for glaciers to retreat, but people could and did find it comfortable to live in the mountains and foothills 8,000 years ago.

But aren’t all ‘white’ Europeans ‘Caucasians’?

No, but we retain this as a convenient shortcut ‘catch all’ term for European whites.

The idea dated back to 1795, with a mistaken belief that all light skinned people (Europeans at least) originated from a single source.

Lighter skin arose as a major adaptation to less sunny climates (related to making vitamin D, especially in females who need to supply calcium to their babies in pregnancy, and then in breast feeding).  It evolved in more than one human group even those we may think of as ‘White Europeans’ due to their skin colour. There are several genetic mutations that can be involved, and these are thought to have evolved independently. There are also some paler Northern Asians (such as some Koreans).

Spelling: American readers, please forgive my Aussie spellings. Some foreign terms are transliterated (converted into our alphabet, rather than ‘translated’ into the English equivalent). I have often used archaic or dialectic versions of names, which may add to the unusual spellings. I have used ‘dwarves’ rather than the more correct ‘dwarfs’.

Shale, Slate and ‘friends’: Shale is a soft sedimentary rock. In the Caucasus Mountains it dates back to a time when that region was under an ancient sea. The titanic pressures involved in raising the great mountains also caused physical and chemical (metamorphic) changes in some of the rocks. Shale was converted into a series of rocks of increasing hardness, more granules and less obvious layers.

The first was slate, still fine grained but harder and shinier than shale. After that there is phyllite, schist, and then gneiss. At the edge of the Greater Caucasus there is more shale, and deeper into the mountains there is more metamorphic rock. Of course, the transformation between related rocks is on a continuum and is sometimes hard to distinguish with the naked eye. You can’t build with shale, so the people of the greater Caucasus use its metamorphic descendants for their homes and defensive towers: slate, phyllite and schist.  I have sometimes used the term ‘slate’ and ‘schist’ imprecisely to indicate related metamorphic rocks.

* * *

The Last Part of the Elvish Prophecy

Excerpt from the Elvish Prophecy

".... God’s warrior must journey into the Deepest, that terrible place, to find the weapons and armour that are made for the man who never was, nor ever will be, and awaken that which lies within.

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

Book 5 explains how the dwarf prince Brökkr (Badger) was killed by Áedán, so it was his daughter Dís that sacrificed herself by joining with the armour to tame it. After that, the armour could only be used by a woman.

In the Book 6 , Jacinta realised there was a much simpler explanation to the legend of the ‘Man who Never Was’. It was a woman (Brynjar’s sister Hervor) who used the armour to save the Elves after that, Æloðulf had managed to seize the armour and hide it in the "Last City of the Dwarves’.

She also realised that to ‘awaken that which lies within’ referred to something inside herself, not within the armour.

She had to develop her magic. The magic of the paladin, the magic of the ṧamánka and the magic she could learn off Daniel and Sophie 

Much more importantly she needed to awaken the knowledge and power of the daimôns sleeping inside herself, so it could multiply the power of the amour many, many, times.

She had to travel back to the daimôn region and leave herself open to the power and knowledge of that realm.

The last time she did this she lost all memories of who she was and almost lost all her humanity.

Prologue.

Kyra came to in total darkness.

No, she was blindfolded and gagged.

Feeling groggy, she tried to reach the blindfold when she discovered that her hands were bound behind her back and legs bound together. Her head was pounding, and she felt like throwing up, but with the gag in her mouth would cause her to choke.

She could hear the crackle of a fire and someone shouting orders. A man’s voice cried out in agony but his pleas were cut short.

Memories began to trickle back.

They had found the hidden valley leading to the Lost City of the Dwarves. Everyone was celebrating. They had set guards, but it hadn’t been enough. Many of their soldiers were only wearing their belt knives. Their enemies had waited till most were drunk, and then they attacked, firing from out of the darkness at men illuminated by their camp fires.

Kyra didn’t even know who they were.

Wait, something had happened before that.

She was drunk, she remembered that. Jess had warned her not to drink in a camp of drunken men, but Kyra had needed to get drunk. Her sister had been murdered and she had seen others die. She had almost died herself. She had asked Jess to watch over her, the strange woman who was also her best friend. Where was she now?

They had been attacked by maybe a dozen of Jahan’s men before the main fighting started. They wanted to rape them both. Jess had pushed her into the bushes, and had turned to face them, armed only with a belt knife.

It was Jess that had raised the camp, and then there was a lightning storm of arrows out of the darkness. There was chaos of men running and screaming, looking for cover as they died.

Kyra had crawled deeper into the bushes to hide. Yet one of Jahan’s men had found her and hit her over the head as she struggled against him. It was the last thing that she remembered.

Jess was almost certainly dead. Kyra prayed that she had escaped somehow. If so, she would be heading deeper into the mountains, searching for whatever destiny waited for her there. She wouldn’t see her friend again.

Who else was alive? Her brother, Naveed? She thought of the others in their party who had been kind to her. As she gathered her wits, she tried to move her cramped legs.

She’s awake. It was one of her brother-in-law’s men; she recognised the harsh voice.

Rough hands rolled her over and ripped the gag from her mouth and the blindfold from her eyes.

Her brother was lying near her, his eyes staring sightlessly, his coat covered in his own blood. She screamed in horror, trying to struggle out of her bonds. She wanted to get to him.

Sorry about Naveed. It was Jahan, her brother-in-law.

She could see him looking down at her, his features illuminated by the nearby camp fire.

Then she remembered. One of his men had boasted that Jahan would take over, just before they were attacked. He must have made a deal with the local bandits.

I should introduce my associate, Arash. He indicated a local man whose face was in shadows. He and his men have come from the Pankisi Gorge to help you and I. You see, I had no intention of sharing what we find with Šahmām Amāstrī.

MURDERER! Kyra screamed frantically struggling against her bonds, kicking and bucking. TRAITOR!

Jahan moved closer and squatted next to her, smiling that smile of his as he enjoyed watching her struggle against the bonds.

Now, that’s no way to talk to your brother-in-law. You may not believe it, but I didn’t kill your sister, and I didn’t kill Naveed either. By the time I found him, he was already dead.

Roshanak? She asked, thinking of her niece.

Jahan’s face grew hard. Do you forget that she is my daughter? I protect my own. And you, my dear, are mine now.

Nooo! Kyra tried to kick at him, but he had positioned himself properly. She tried to spit at him but she was on her back.

You should count yourself fortunate. You don’t have your brother or your sister to protect you anymore, but you still have me.

His hand slipped under her shirt. He began to slowly fondle her breast while he enjoyed watching her struggle.

Part A: Getting Ready

Chapter 1: The Kéntauroi

Early spring, the journey to Elgard

The Elvish warships made good time: north though the straights to the Bósporos, east across the Black Sea and up the Phasis River, almost all the way to the regional capital, Kutaisi.

Just before that city they stopped to unload their horses and baggage and were joined by a cavalry escort supplied by the Kingdom of the Half Elven. Every member of their escort wore hats pulled down low over their heads. They had scarves and masks concealing their faces, with long sleeves, gloves and long pants tucked into their boots. They all had long leather coats. Most had a small metal talisman or a tiny sachet of garlic pinned to their breast.

They were symbols to ward off evil.

As they rode on they passed mass graves, the charred remains of burnt-out houses, temples festooned with prayer flags and painted wooden icons ... and they passed check point after check point, where they were hurriedly waved through.

They saw rat catchers, with their traps and small dogs at work. There were a lot of them now and it had become very dangerous work.

And Hakeem saw something he never thought he would ever see in elvish lands: gallows with corpses, swinging in the wind.

The Plague had reached the lands of the Half Elven.

The faces of the people they passed on the road looked frightened, haunted. Behind closed doors and in their small enclaves some (he knew) would be partying as if there was no tomorrow. Maybe for them there wouldn’t be. Others would be praying just as frantically. Who knew? Maybe it would help.

Kynane had long leather boots and a heavy crimson dress over a simple white tunic. On her head she had a gilded helmet with a crest of purple dyed horse-hair that bobbed as she rode. Over her chest was a bronze breast plate polished to shine in the sun. It was early spring and she wore a cloak of royal purple. Her husband was a wealthy man, and she was a warrior princess. Few in her family would acknowledge her now, but she was certainly not going to arrive at the Elvish Court looking like a beggar.

Most everyone who saw Hakeem would have known who the large tribesman on the large white, dappled, horse must be and they would have guessed the identity of the stunning brunette by his side. The few travellers waiting at check points, stopped and stared at them, and some would point and whisper, but no one cheered.

All of them looked frightened, numb with loss and despair. Some of the men looked sullen and angry, though they didn’t know who to be angry at.

Hakeem bringing troops to this cursed land was not a relief like it was the last time. It could only mean one thing. They were true, the rumours coming out of Elgard.

There were monsters in the mountains. Another horror to face, when their world was already coming to an end.

Following the main body of the escort were the ones that Hakeem and Kynane had brought, three score of Kynane’s strongest women. They wore the simple clothes of elvish scouts, leather and wool. Each had a warm woollen coat on their shoulders and a single leather glove on their left hand. The left-handed glove, the mark of a senior Amazōn.

They were all veterans of several campaigns, mostly hunting bandits. It was Kynane’s idea to hire her senior women out as mercenaries in selected small skirmishes and escort duty. It not only allowed them to earn some extra money, it made sure they were blooded.

All their training was of little use until they had fought for real and had faced death.

Their gear was unusual for Amazónes, and Kynane was still drilling them with it every chance she got. They carried no bow or sword. The lands of the Half Elven already had their own scouts, and good ones. They didn’t need the Amazónes to act as scouts for them.

Instead, Kynane’s women wore open faced Illyrian helmets, breast plates and grieves with short pleated leather skirts over woollen underskirts and high woollen leggings. Strapped to their saddles were oval shields of wood and leather, each with a central iron boss.

Tucked into their waist bands was a large knife and attached to their saddles was a long-handled battle axe with a narrow head on one side and a pick on the other. They were brutal weapons, heavier than swords, designed for close-quarters skirmishing against creatures that were hard to kill.

On the front of their right stirrup was a small leather pocket for the base of a lance, and behind them were wagons carrying (apart from an unusual amount of clothing for such a small force) some very special lances and throwing spears.

They would be fighting as mounted lancers and spear-women. They weren’t using the high-backed saddles of the old Troian heavy lancers, though. Such would not be suitable for where they were going, deep into the mountains.

Despite all the gear they were taking, they weren’t coming to fight a war. That, they believed, would come soon enough.

They were going to meet up with a large troop of elf scouts that were waiting for them in the capital. Then they would be conducting what was known amongst the military as a ‘reconnaissance in force’.  Soon spring would come to the mountains, and they were going on a very special type of hunt.

* * *

Elgard

( https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Narikala)

Hakeem, Kynane, the Amazónes and their escort followed the road around the base of the hill on which the great fortress stood.

They rode past the bridge that spanned the Mt’k’vari River, and then up the zig zag road to the lower fortress, passing patches of snow still on the ground. The city seemed, as it always had been strong, wealthy and beautiful. The last great city of the Elves.

That is, if none of them looked across the river.

During the last desperate defence of the city against an army of (Xiōngnú) Huns and daimôns, the daimôns had crossed the river and reached the walls of the fortress on the west side. There they did little damage before being defeated by Jacinta, Hakeem’s daughter, but the forests that grew within the eastern side of the city had already started to burn.

It was there that the Elvish love of trees betrayed them. A mighty inferno gathered itself on the left bank of the river with frightening power and speed, obliterating everything in its path. Sending a dense cloud of smoke and ash miles into the air. With help from their allies, the elves had stopped it crossing the river, but only barely.

The eastern side of the city was ruined.

All the colourful wooden elvish houses and shops with their gardens, plants on the window sills, coloured lights, wooden and rope ladders and wood chimes were gone.  Only a few had been rebuilt. If their occupants had survived, they did not want to return to the land that held so many of their dead. Small saplings and grasses now claimed areas where homes, shops, gardens and bath houses once stood.

A few of the once beautiful manors and intricately decorated temples that stood proudly on hilltops remained, but only as ruins blackened and abandoned, a grim reminder of all those who had died.

With fire roaring up the tree-lined slopes and with trees planted close to the buildings, even stone buildings are not immune. They have wooden floors and internal walls. Their roofs help steady the stone walls and prevent them from leaning in or out.

Once the roofs and floors burn through and collapse, the walls follow. Support beams for floors penetrate deep into the stone work and as they burn through and drop, they bring down walls.

The massive influx of humans into the Elvish Lands was directed to the countryside where most people lived anyway. It was easier to make a new start there.  Seléne provided them with land, crops, farm animals and food until they could grow their own. Due to the war and the decline of the elves, she had a lot of empty land to fill.

Besides, it was not a good time for the city.

The trade that had been its life’s blood had dwindled to a trickle. There had been the drought, and the wars (near and distant) disrupting the long trade routes, and then their kingdom had blockaded Āzar Pāyegān (when it was occupied by the Huns).

Now their borders had been reopened and the trade blockade had been lifted, but it was only in time to bring the Plague.

Hakeem’s party was met at the gates. Servants took their horses and gear and escorted the main party to the women’s barracks.

Hakeem, Kynane, and their two most senior Amazónes, Eirène and Anastasia, were ushered up steps and through corridors to a small but richly decorated room.

They had only just been offered refreshments when Seléne and Pericles burst through the doors. The four of them fell to their knees before the rulers of the Half-Elven.

It was almost two years since Kynane had seen Seléne and she had never met Pericles, the Queen’s consort. Despite all the years living amongst the Elves, Pericles still dressed as a Greek: a khlanís (chlamys, a woollen cloak) over a woollen khitōn (chiton), laced up sandals and a xiphos (Greek short sword) at his waist.

He was a handsome man, with black curly hair and neatly trimmed beard, intelligent dark-brown eyes and an easy smile. He was shorter than Hakeem but well-muscled from all his training.

Seléne wore a simple yet beautiful dress of the finest wool: light grey-green and long-sleeved. It had a pectoral pattern embroidered with silver thread, with matching bands of silver sewn into the sleeves and studded with lapis lazuli both on the sleeves and the hem, complemented by matching lapis lazuli ear rings.

Seléne was shorter than her half-sister, Elena. She had black hair, unusual in an elf. Still, it was silky, standing out against her milky skin and elfin ears. She was still very beautiful, but Kynane felt a thrill of fear. The Queen had lost weight.

Elves were always slender, but she was starting to look gaunt. There were lines from endless worry on her face, the marks of sleepless nights, and Kynane noticed how wearily she smiled as she hurried to greet them.

When Seléne had inherited her kingdom, the elves had long been in decline. Their numbers were dwindling and they had lost most of their magic.

Her capital city had been half destroyed by daimôn fire, much of her army was gone and no few of her people had been slaughtered. Her father was dead, she believed her half-sister Elena and her best friend, Jacinta, had died in the siege as well as so many others.

She had a kingdom she could no longer defend and it faced a powerful enemy that would one day return.

She opened her kingdom to humans who were previously forbidden to live amongst them lest they discover the weakness of the elves. It was she that had discovered that intermarrying elves and humans reversed the curse of infertility that had been plaguing the elves.

Since then, she and Pericles had worked day and night, welcoming humans into her kingdom (the majority of which were refugees from the wars) and helping them settle.

She had to insist, sometimes against resistance, that (depending only on availability) all single young pureblood elves and humans intermarry or face exile.

She and her husband had to police the new kingdom, prevent trouble and get it ready for another war. 

More than a year ago, a great earthquake had hit her kingdom in the north. Fortunately, they didn’t lose too many people, but they still had damaged buildings and fortifications to repair, after all the work they had already done.

Now Gansükh was dead and her friend Azarin was the new Šahbānū (Queen) of the neighbouring shahdom of Āzar Pāyegān.

The Xiōngnú (Hun) would not be coming. It might seem to be a reprieve, but it was because of the Plague, and that was worse than anything that could ever have been imagined. Some called it the Black Death. Whatever it was, it was an unimaginable horror.

She is working too hard, Kynane realised. She hasn’t recovered from her last pregnancy. Kynane loved Seléne almost as much as she loved her sister-wife, Elena, Seléne’s half-sister. Her heart ached for her, but she kept her worries to herself. 

Princess Kynane! Seléne cried with genuine delight, and more than a little relief, tell me, how are the children? Is Hakeem treating you and my sister well? Why couldn’t Elena come with you?

Kynane felt a bit breathless with all the chatter. Female elves talked more than male elves, but not like this. The Queen was running on nervous energy.

I’m sorry, my Queen. It is too dangerous to travel unnecessarily now, Kynane said grimly. The plague is threatening to come to Abydos and Troia, if it isn’t already there.

Abydos!

Seléne gasped, her nostrils flared and a look of anguish passed across her face. Hakeem moved forward and enclosed the Elf Queen in a bear hug.

Little sister, we came as quickly as we could, he said. You should have called us earlier.

It brought tears to her eyes and she sagged into his strength.

We tried to find out more, but with all else that is happening I didn’t know what else to do. It is spring, she said finally, and soon the mountain passes will be opening.

It wasn’t the Plague that she was talking about. There was new terror in the mountains; intelligent beasts that were almost impossible to kill.

Though they would not have refused to help him, Hakeem was no longer a commander in the Aioli or Troian army and his tribesmen were too far away to be summoned in time. He had no right to command his wife’s Amazónes to come, but he didn’t need to. Even if they wouldn’t come for him, which they would have, they would come for Seléne.

As if all we have to deal with is not enough, I have just received even more disturbing news. You haven’t heard from Jacinta, have you? Seléne asked him.

I thought she would be here, Hakeem said, looking uncertain and worried. What do you mean?

"When Šâh (Shah) Parvēz escaped from Āzar Pāyegān, he came here. He has been wintering with his body guards in Telaiba (Telavi), in the shadow of the mountains. He plans to search for the last city of the dwarves when the mountain paths open."

That’s all we need, Hakeem groaned. Treasure hunters roaming around up there, Parvēz and maybe even more.

Seléne nodded, grimly. "Well, Jacinta had sent a message through Sophie to give him all the assistance that we could. I have agreed to supply him with men and supplies in exchange for the location of the city, and half of whatever treasure he recovers.

"Only yesterday I received an urgent message from him saying that Jacinta is overdue meeting him. She was supposed to be at Telaiba (Telavi) by now. Parvēz hadn’t told me about her until now, but she was going to return to the daimôn realm, and he hasn’t heard from her since."

No! Kynane whispered.

It gets worse. He says that she was trying to get in touch with the essence of the daimôn substance inside herself. She thought her daimôn friends could help her, Seléne reached out and Hakeem took her hand. She closed her eyes, for a moment, against the pain.

When Jacinta had returned from the daimôn world after she and Ba’al had rescued Elena, her daimôn-self had completely taken over. For a long time, she had lived as little more than an animal.

Even when she had regained her human form and gained control over the change, she had no memory of herself. It had taken maybe two years for her to remember enough to know who she really was, but only after she had tried to destroy herself.

That time she had been resisting the daimôn substance inside her, walling it off inside her as only a paladin could, and she was only in contact with a part of what was inside her.

This time may only be for a few months, but she would be trying to embrace all the daimôn essence and daimôn souls which were stored within her. That included all she absorbed from her time on the daimôn world, all the daimôns that she had killed (and all the daimôns they had killed).

Maybe she was stronger now, maybe she knew more and she wouldn’t have that period lost in ‘the nothingness from which reality is created’ which caused her to be displaced in time and space. Still, if it went wrong, the results for her could be catastrophic and the daimôns wouldn’t be able to help her. 

And now, they knew.

It had gone wrong.

Why? Hakeem eventually said. He had gone pale beneath his tan.

"She thought she needed to access the power and knowledge she held hidden inside herself to fight Æloðulf.  She thought that it was the meaning of the prophecy. ‘God’s warrior must journey into the deepest, that terrible place, to find the weapons and armour ... and awaken that which lies within’."

There were only two living paladins, Jacinta and Hakeem, holy warriors of their God, Apollōn (Apollo). This part of the Prophecy applied to Jacinta. It was part of her final task before she fought Æloðulf (though the prophecy said he couldn’t be defeated).

Seléne took a deep breath before she continued, her voice heavy, As you know Sophie, our seeress, has a special connection with Jacinta. She can’t see her through far sight, Jacinta is protected from that, but she can usually connect to her ‘mind to mind’ unless Jacinta is blocking her. I asked her to search for me. She says she has a very faint sense of her, but can’t connect.

What does that mean? Kynane asked.

It is not Jacinta blocking her, she would feel that. It was what Sophie sensed the last time, when Jacinta was still ‘Jess’. It got stronger as she recovered, but this time it was very weak. The only good news is that she is alive and back in this realm. Also, she is in human form, or at least most of the time.

Jacinta would be in human form, but she would have no personal memories. She would likely know herself as J’ezz. (The lesser daimôns couldn’t say ‘Jacinta’ and that’s what they called her on the daimôn world).

Or she may not know even that.

Why is it that neither Sophie or Daniel can search for her with far sight? Kynane asked, clenching and unclenching her fists.

Prince Fraener of the southern dwarves had one of his dwarves carve a magical tattoo low on her back, Hakeem told her.  "It is imbued with Dweomer (Dwarf Magic). She and anyone close to her can’t be located by far-sight. My sword is of dwarvish make and has the same power. It was to protect us from Æloðulf though we didn’t know about him when I was given the sword.

My guess is that she will be drawn to the mountains. I think she will be already there or on her way. She will have forgotten who she is and she wouldn’t know why she is searching, only that she is searching.

Kynane made a guttural noise in her throat. And she will be in danger.

For all they knew, Æloðulf and his monsters would be hunting her. Kynane had only known Jacinta for a short time. She was the adopted daughter of Elena and Hakeem, and yet Kynane loved her and was proud to call her daughter too.

Her heart burned to think of Jacinta being out there in the mountains, in danger, lost and alone and out of her mind.

Eirène and Anastasia had been quiet, not wanting to interrupt the conversations of their seniors. They both exchanged a glance with Kynane and their eyes flicked to the distant mountains. They were sharing a silent promise, the three of them. If they could, they would find Jacinta. They wouldn’t need to change the mission for that. If they could find the monsters, Jacinta would not be far away.

Our daughter is not easy to kill, Hakeem reminded Kynane. "We can only pray that the God Apollōn (Apollo) will watch over her until she recovers but our task becomes harder without her help. Can you delay Parvēz? he asked Seléne. I don’t want him wandering the mountains until we know where Jacinta is, and what we face up there."

At least, that is something I can do, he is waiting for me to send him an escort and supplies, and he needs my permission to enter the Abano pass.

Seléne paused. Now, you have all travelled a long way to hear grievous news and must be tired. Please go now to rest and refresh yourselves. We will have a feast tonight to welcome you properly. Tomorrow will be soon enough to talk on the other matters.

No feasts, Hakeem said. The sooner we get into the mountains the better. We will do your scouting and search for Jacinta .But before I leave here I need to know one thing, above all others.

He cleared his throat and looked deep into Seléne’s eyes.

Am I still the Warlord of your people, Seléne?

The question shocked everyone to silence.

Hakeem had been elevated to a newly created position as the Warlord of the elves by Cyron, Seléne’s father, before he died in the siege of Elgard.

Hakeem had believed his wife and daughter had been killed in that costly victory. Broken hearted, he had fled to the estate in the Troad that had been given to him. For a time, he was drinking heavily until Jacinta’s cousin, Asha, came to take charge of him.

Though it was never thought that he would return, his office had never been formally revoked. If the elves were facing a major war now, he could, with her permission, invoke his previous authority. Only Seléne would outrank him.

Pericles was the current commander-in-chief of the army and had been so for several years now. Hakeem had just ridden through his gates and was asking to be given overall command of an army that Pericles regarded as his own.

Seléne gave her husband a worried look.

I would need to discuss something like that with my commanders, Pericles said, colouring deeply. Do you really think it’s that serious?

I do, Hakeem said. Nordheimr was the greatest city of a powerful and magical people. Æloðulf unleashed a plague of monsters that was enough to overwhelm them. It was always said the monsters were still there, sealed in by the last surviving dwarves. I don’t know how that can be true, but now we know it is. This is not just a threat to the elves; it is to all of us.

Holy Mother of us all, Seléne breathed. I was told there was hundreds of those things.

I think there is a great army, or at least we have to assume that is so, and the ones you have encountered are just scouts, Hakeem said. We don’t know what other monsters or beasts they have, and in what numbers. Nor do we know how much magic they may wield, or not. Unless they are diminished (and it is possible that they are) it will be more than enough for what we have here and maybe enough to challenge all the allies that we can call.

Hakeem, we have barely survived one war and now we have the Plague, Seléne said. We have had a respite this winter, but it is starting up again with the spring. We are following Jacinta’s advice on how to fight it, but even so we stand to lose a third of our people or more before it is finished, not to mention the chaos it is causing.

I doubt plague affects these things. Like it or not, ready or not, you are at war.

How can you say something like that? Pericles demanded, gripping the hilt of his sword and beginning to pace. All we have is a single monster, tracks of others and a few dead shepherds. It is hardly an invasion.

What you mean is that they have managed to avoid detection until now. Hakeem replied. "Whatever is out there had been trapped by magic and the earthquake has released it, at least in part, and they were scouting a way here.

They are coming, Pericles, make no mistake about that. And if that is not enough, there is Æloðulf, the most powerful sorcerer that ever walked the earth. He wants to exterminate all elves and half elven, and now he has something that can do it. We don’t know how much he can control them. We just don’t know. We need to find out, and quickly. For the moment we must assume he is working closely with them, and if that is true it will go hard for us.

Hakeem held out his hand to stop Pericles pacing, and made him face him.

"Even if they aren’t controlled by him, just think about it. There are dwarves living in the Sundriheimr (the two ‘southern homes’). I have been there and met them. They are few now. It had been a surprise attack by an army of daimôns far, far, greater than anything humans or elves ever faced, and yet some southern dwarves survived.

"The dwarves to the north were many, they were very powerful and they had decades to prepare. These beasts didn’t conquer them, they exterminated them. Only the ones living outside the city survived.  If Æloðulf can’t command them they must act as if the races of men are their natural enemies: human, elf and dwarf. There can be no peace between us.

"Even before the Plague they had the power to destroy all you have here and they could have done it without even drawing breath.

They won’t conquer you, Pericles. They will destroy you. They will dig you and your people out, root, stem and branch, and they won’t stop at your kingdom, they will go on.

He took a deep breath and his voice rang out, Now do you understand, Pericles? They will sweep down from the north, and they will pass here, and when they do, nothing will be left, just like they did to the dwarves.

If Æloðulf is leading them, this could be the worst we have ever faced, Pericles realised, and it has come at a time when we are almost destroyed with the Plague.

So I will ask you again, both of you if you wish, though Seléne is the only one who can truly answer. He stared at Pericles; his gaze unblinking. Am I your Warlord?

Pericles exchanged a look with Seléne and gave a faint nod.

He didn’t like it but if they were facing something like this, he had little choice. He had fought both against Hakeem and for him, and knew what the Warlord could do.

You are our Warlord, Hakeem. Seléne said. She came closer again to place her hands on Hakeem’s shoulders while her eyes searched his face. You never stopped being our Warlord. Tears welled in her eyes and her voice became husky for an elf. You are my Warlord; thank you for coming.

Hakeem brought his sister-in-law close and kissed her forehead.

Then he stepped back. "We are not dwarves. Maybe what worked against them won’t work against us. Maybe a lot of things, but we can’t assume anything. We need to find out more, understand what we face, and then we need to get ready.

Until we know more, we can’t mobilise armies. I have already sent warnings to Helios, Leandros and Aléxandros. Once I know more, I will ask them for help in detail. I can’t demand that they help me. I can only command my own people, but this will not be a fight for the elves alone.

The plague has not come to Karsh, Pericles said.

Not yet, Hakeem said grimly. My daughter has found a way to fight it and passed a message through your seeress, Sophie, and her husband Daniel. You had a little time to prepare, Āzar Pāyegān had no time at all. Karsh is getting ready even now, as much as anyone can for this sort of thing.

You can’t ask your men to come here and face the Plague.

Ask, Pericles? Hakeem smiled without humour, his eyes like stone. "How little you understand the Shantawi. I am their Warlord and I am a paladin. I can speak with the authority of our God.

In this, I will.

Can the Plague really come to Karsh? Seléne asked.

We have rats, so it will come. He shrugged. Now, they tell me you have a specimen of one of these monsters.

Yes, one of our elf scouts, Andromeda, and her human partner, Zal, brought it back last autumn. They had to rig a travois, Seléne said. It was lucky that none of the monsters were tracking them because they were travelling slowly and left clear tracks. They said they had to do it, because we would never have believed them if they didn’t show us. I’m sorry to say that I think they were right. It is always easier, when you are desperate and assaulted from too many directions at once to disbelieve yet another disaster. They ran out of snow on the way. We have refrozen it but it had started to stink and rot, rather badly I’m afraid.

You couldn’t find another?

"Only signs of where they had been, dead shepherds and villagers. Sophie and Daniel and the sisters of the temple searched in their own way. They tell me they are concealed. They don’t know for sure if it is left-over magic from the dwarves or Æloðulf, but Sophie believes that they have magic of their own.

We will have to send Daniel with you when you go. You know he can’t face Æloðulf, but he will go.

Hakeem nodded. Daniel was the incarnation of Ǽlward, the greatest elf sorcerer of all times. He was half-elf and half-human and the husband of the Elf Seeress, Sophie. When Hakeem first met him, he was a novice monk of the Shayvists and not then aware of his past life or his future destiny.

He would be twenty-three now and was a powerful sorcerer in his own right, the only real sorcerer the elves had, yet he couldn’t come anywhere near to matching Æloðulf. No one living could. Hakeem didn’t want to put him in danger by taking him into the mountains, but there seemed little choice.

Rethaw your specimen, Hakeem said.

We will only get one go at that, Pericles warned him. It was in a bad state and very smelly.

Good, Hakeem said. I will need to talk to Andromeda and Zal about everything they saw. I hope Anaxagoras and Leonidas are still in the city. I will need to speak to them too.

Anaxagoras was the elf scientist that designed the liquid elvish fire and explosives that had helped Hakeem defeat the Athenian navy at Troia. Leonidas was the Greek engineer who had fallen in love with the beautiful elf scout, Katarina. He had been a large factor in Hakeem’s successful campaign in the Dariel Pass against Mòdú Chányú. Hakeem had heard that they had had their second child since settling in Elgard. 

I don’t know yet, Hakeem continued, but we might have one advantage over the dwarves.

What’s that? Seléne asked.

Most of your elves have lost their magic and the dwarves had not.

How is that an advantage? Pericles and Seléne spoke together.

I don’t know that it is, but the dwarves were masters of magic, and it failed them. Over many hundreds of years now, you elves have been losing yours. You have had to develop science and knowledge, and extra skill to compensate for that loss, and you understand war. We will not be fighting them the same way the dwarves did.

And why is it good that it is rotting? Seléne asked.

If it rots, it has soft areas, Kynane told her. If it has soft areas maybe, just maybe, it has weaknesses.

* * *

Guest Quarters, the fortress, Elgard

It seems we won’t be able to avoid a welcome feast. Seléne is insisting, Kynane complained. She was pacing back and forwards while pulling on her lip. You really should have let me bring my other chests.

Surely what we have will be enough, Hakeem said, sitting on the klinē (couch) in their guest room, watching his second wife pace. I didn’t want to bring another cart just for more clothes.

Kynane’s mother, Audata (Eurydikē), was an Illyrian warrior-princess and the second wife of Phílippos of Makedonía. Both Kynane and her mother preferred riding with Phílippos’s army, but Kynane partly grew up in her father’s palace at Pella, the richest palace in the western world.

But this is the elves! Kynane insisted, as she anxiously paced. I can’t wear the same dress for different feasts.

Why ever not?

Kynane, you will always look beautiful to me. No matter what you are wearing.

Ohh! She stomped her foot angrily. You’re no help. What if they have picnics, or a royal hunt, before they let us leave? Have you thought of that? Huh?

She made an exasperated sound. You know how I hate all this. We will just have to shop tomorrow, and you will have to come, too. After we examine that specimen of theirs ... and after I drill my women, I suppose. All my Amazónes will want to shop. You wouldn’t allow them to bring nearly enough clothes.

Hakeem couldn’t see why a group of warriors needed to ‘bring some nice outfits’ when they were on campaign. How did they expect him to carry them all for Apollōn’s sake? How could they think of buying clothes when they had to ride off and face monsters and danger in the mountains?

No few of the older ones, like Kynane, were already mothers and/or had men (or even women) waiting for them at home. Kynane had tried to explain it to him; how it was still nice to be noticed even if you weren’t really available, or that it was sometimes good to look nice ‘just for yourself’.

How did that sort of thing work?

Kynane said it might cheer them up to go shopping, get their mind off what they were about to face. It wouldn’t cheer Hakeem up, not if he had to stand around and watch a bunch of women shop for hours on hours.

This is Elgard, the greatest city of the elves, Kynane continued. They have silks and materials that can be found nowhere else. Some of our sisters may not get a chance to shop here ever again. It’s just lucky for you that I brought extra money. I only hope it will be enough.

It is certainly different riding with a group of women warriors than it is with a group of men. Though in their abilities, Hakeem never had cause to complain.

Kynane, Jacinta is missing. We have ridden into a kingdom stricken by the Plague. We are going into the mountains to face monsters. Three formal gowns and all the rest of the clothes you have brought will be enough.

At the mention of the Plague, Kynane stopped pacing.

They’ll be alright, won’t they, Hakeem? Elena and our children? All the others?

I don’t know, Hakeem sighed, getting up to take Kynane in his arms. Elena is very skilled in healing.

He didn’t say it.

He didn’t have anything near the power of his daughter, nor the knowledge and skill of his first wife, but he was also a paladin and he had the healing touch. Now he would be stuck in the mountains while the Plague was coming to his home in the Troad.

* * *

A room in the basement of the Elgard fortress,

the next morning.

Thunk!

"Skata! (Shit!)" Kynane cursed as she swung her spare battle axe at the centre of the beast’s torso with full power, grunting with the effort.

THUNK! 

"Ah! Skata sta moutra sou! This is as hard as armour. Lances will never pierce this."

The huge carcass lay on the tile floor of the windowless room; the elves had lit lamps so the humans could see.

The smell was indescribable. A brazier of incense was burning in the corner, but it seemed to be making no difference at all.

They had lost Seléne, Eirène, Anastasia and Zal from their small audience. Seléne had arrived, taken one sniff, and simply turned away, saying she had other duties. The others stayed for a short while but quickly retreated as Kynane and Hakeem’s efforts pumped more fumes into the air.

Belamus, the elf commander, and Pericles were still there, but they didn’t look good. Andromeda, the only other one left, was bent over in a corner dry retching or maybe she was studying the mosaics on the floor.

The monster was a bit like a horse, only bigger and heavier, closer to a large bull in size with a big barrel chest. Where the neck of a horse should be, it had a torso, with arms and a head attached, now drooping in death. Its eyes were closed.

The elf scout, Andromeda, had named it a ‘kéntauros’, after the mythical Greek monsters, and the name had stuck. The Kéntauroi of legend were supposed to be half man and half horse. Up close, these kéntauroi were nothing like that. The head was more like a goat’s head only larger, with two small horns, like a female goat. The ears were similar in shape to a goat’s but smaller relative to the size of the head.

The skull seemed to be solid bone with the chin pointed down, as if to protect the short neck. There were two short muscular arms with hands like a man’s. To make up for the short reach of the arms, the torso was mobile, thick and muscular.

Andromeda, Kynane gestured to the elf who was bent over in the corner, said that even heavy arrows wouldn’t penetrate it from the front. I can believe that, with all this bone. I just don’t know how smart it can be with this sort of head.

I wouldn’t under-estimate it, Hakeem warned her. They were scouting after all. They are organised enough for that, and they have iron. They also hid the bodies of the shepherds. Maybe that wasn’t too smart, but they didn’t know that.

He pulled out his knife and slid one of the oil lamps closer; then in one slow, even, powerful movement slit the abdomen open. Coils of black guts rushed out over the floor. There was a puff of the foulest gas Hakeem had ever breathed, causing him to jerk back as if stung.

I hope this stuff isn’t poisonous, he muttered.

Belamus and Pericles tried to edge further away, but they were already as far as they could get into a corner.

It seems the lung and organs are in roughly the same place as a horse or bull.  Only the front and the top are armoured; that’s how Andromeda killed it from the side. She got a lucky shot through the heart, Kynane said, tapping one of the arrow shafts.

Mffl Pericles said, swallowing mouthful after mouthful of bile. His hand was pressed tightly over his mouth to keep it down. He had meant to say, ‘careful, our wise men want to study this,’ but couldn’t get the words out.

It’s so hard to see with this dark blood, Hakeem grunted. Maybe we should have tried to drain it.

Kynane grabbed one of the arrows poking