The Prophesy: Book 1 - Cave Lupus

 

It took a couple of hours for the forward units to reach the capital of Ma, Thebes. A few sparse orc units, which were all moving northward, were crushed along the way. This seemed ominous for Thebes, but, fortunately, the city was still holding, if barely. Thebes had been an outpost for the defence of Kantar, but it had expanded beyond its original fortifications. The Ancients had not fortified it, and the elves had not been up to par with the builders from Atlantis. As the units slowly emerged on the upper plateau which sheltered the upper town, Yamato immediately noticed there were concentrations of orcs trying to assault the walls of the city, being repulsed by the inhabitants by means of war machinery such as catapults, naphtha, and molten lead. The orcs were using siege towers to progress towards the walls, ladders to climb, and quite a few were escalating the fortifications themselves, to be pushed back by means of perches and other defences.

The royal army emerged on the back of the orcs undetected, and quickly took position. Yamato and his cavalry took center position, hidden behind the legions, while the elven archers took the frontal position. The wolves took the wings and got ready to encircle the orcs' overstretched rear. Meanwhile, the light horses, which had no packages, took position behind the wolves, ready to charge on command and stump the orcs with their hooves. The dogs took position behind everyone, ready to finish off the wounded orcs. The rules of engagement were simple: no quarters.

Suddenly the rear orcs heard a drum beat accompanied by the whines of incoming arrows. Each drumbeat was followed by the deadly song of bowstrings releasing their deadly missiles, accompanied by the twangs of the bows. The sky darkened, the face of the sun hidden by the shower of arrows falling on them.

Then came the beat of a walk to battle, as each legion, elves and humans, came forward between suddenly parting bowmen. The turtle formations, arrayed in arrowhead blocks, began pressing the orcs towards the walls of Thebes.

As the rear of the orcs parted in an effort to create a scissoring, it met with the wolves, which had been silently infiltrating their lines. The sudden howl of thousands upon thousands of wolves that seemed to literally grow out of the grass took them by surprise. Before anything could be planned to counteract this sudden onslaught of wolves, foxes and then coyotes joined in the dance. Ferocious battles involved canines and orcs in packets.

Just as the orcs were thinking nothing worse could happen, the wolves disengaged and a wall of horses charged their position. The orcs were thrown back into their forward positions, and pandemonium broke loose. The advanced units of orcs tried to turn on the charging horses. This opened them to Yamato and the Cavalry, now composed for a major part of elves. They had been waiting for this to engage the orcs and came down on them like the hammer of justice on the fingers of the culprit. As the cavalry swept the orcs like dust under the rug of the city's wall, the human legionnaires launched hooks on the mobile towers, and tied them to the saddle horn before getting the horses to pull and topple the towers. It was an easy task as they were too high for their surface and easily collapsed once they began to tip.

Once the upper city's periphery was relieved of the orcs' pressure, the royal army turned to the difficult issue of dislodging the orcs from the narrow passes that were parallel to the city wall joining the upper and lower part of town. The foxes and coyotes, being smaller, were particularly well suited to deal with this question, and promptly did a shift in their movement to face the issue. Meanwhile, the dogs were finishing off the last orcs. Once this was dealt with, they joined the foxes and coyotes in cleaning up the passages.

Three hours after the battle began, just as sext would have been rung, the wolves took the front and began cleaning up a bridgehead for the elves and humans, which were following them close behind. The passages were too narrow for horses and cavalrymen, so they stayed on the plateau, protecting upper Thebes from a possible return of orcs from the mountains.

The tactic on the lower, narrower setting of the lower city was different. This time the arrows fell, stopped, the foot soldiers immediately followed by the archers, made one hundred feet of progress, finishing off any orc found cleanly on the way, while the archers reloaded their quivers from bundles of arrows carried by wolves and foxes coming down the path behind them. The process repeated itself until the two prongs of the army met the river, pushing the last orcs into its swift currents off the riverbank. Orcs that broke formation met even swifter death to the jaws of the wolves and other canines.

Finally, the horns of victory rang, resonating deep and long in the narrows, the plateau and echoing in the mountains. If anything needed to tell the orcs they had been vanquished another time, this music of death was all they needed to hear to know the truth.

***

The colours of the royal army, which had been spotted by the defenders, snapped in the picking breeze. The amount of banners was dazzling, as each elven and human unit had its own, and the canines had managed to figure the use of these flapping, noisy pieces of colour as rallying points for members of a unit. They therefore had one banner-bearer per unit as well. There was colour, lots of colour, but mostly patterns and figures, as both canines and horses are colour-blind. The colours were for the benefit of the two-legged. In fact there were so many units that the Wolf Throne's colours and the colours of Atlantis went unnoticed, except by a few maniacs of heraldry. Noticing doesn't equate with understanding the meaning these new colours held.

The royals knew their army was way too big to fit within the city walls, so only select units would accompany the royals, namely the elite units, such as the Royal Cavalry, the Elven Royal guards, the Wolf Royal guards, the Fox Guards, the Coyote guards, the Canine Military Police, and the Royal Dog Guards; on the equine side, they supplied an additional unit of battle horses, and the ponies carried the basic necessities of the royals, while mules dealt with the requirements for the elven and legionnaires.

Also included were the dukes and archdukes, and their personal guards. In all, it still amounted to a hundred centuries entering the already crowded city, which now held the entire population of Ma, minus a few who had decided to hold the bridge into Ra for the duke as an alternate evacuation route, should it prove necessary.

The rest of the army set camp on the plateau and the lowlands surrounding the city, and wolves and horses left camp to establish control points along known orc paths. Foxes penetrated deep within the mountains, and established foxholes to monitor traffic and warn of movements. Coyotes did long-range patrols, keeping low profile whenever they met orc units, simply staying downwind and tracking their movements. The few orc units spotted were moving north, along the river, post-haste, so were left alone, as they seemed to be more interested in joining whatever was up on the northern edges of the kingdom. The reports of the situation at the border had dried up as the wolves were driven ever further away from the theatre by the sheer numbers of orcs or crocodiles in the area. It left a gap in the spy network that made the royals uneasy.

Duke Anakaton was baffled by the sheer size of the royal army. He never thought so many elves existed! But then his baron, Aaron, told him he was missing the whole picture, and that he had to look more closely to the 'dogs' that were accompanying the prince, and also these huge horses, the like of which they had never seen, that seemed to bear humans, and that huge collection of other horses, that seemed to be walking as if they owned the land they stood on.

"Anakaton, my friend, these aren't dogs. These are wolves. And these horses, I heard of them in fables and legends. They are destriers, or warhorses. And I think I just spotted foxes, and if you look carefully, down near the door, there is what I can only call a unit of coyotes."

The duke rubbed his eyes repeatedly, trying to erase from his vision the sight that was unfolding below his doors, as the royals came into the portcullis, riding some of those huge horses, bareback! And there were dwarves? No, they were little boys, kids, riding these horses as well! A giant of a black wolf kept barking orders, and then came the father of all warhorses, who took command while the wolf proceeded to lead a group of wolves, coyotes, dogs, and foxes towards his palace entrance. The duke was too mesmerized by what he was seeing to even fathom what it meant. The appearance of the royal colours of the duchy of Ka and Ra, framed by the colours of other well-known duchies and archduchies, reassured him somewhat, if not entirely. The presence of many units bearing the royal elven colours also helped settle his tumbling stomach, so when the colours of the Wolf Throne appeared, he did not get sick, or disgrace himself by throwing over the battlement. He was so focussed on looking at that wolf banner he did not immediately notice the colours of Atlantis flying behind them. It took his baron's awed whistling to break into his daze.

 

 

Flag of Atlantis: A Setting Sun Over Atlanticus

"What is it, Aaron?"

"Do you know that flag, Anakaton?"

"It seems familiar. I seem to remember seeing it somewhere?"

"Close your eyes and picture the Great Hall of the ducal palace, Anakaton. That bright mosaic found in the back, the one you keep looking at, each day, while you walk to sit on the black obsidian throne?"

"It's vague "

"It is titled, let me remember, The Last Pharaoh's March."

"Yes, now I remember the story. It is said that as the last pharaoh marched to reach Kantar, he passed through here and had this fort established as last defence before Kantar, Ra being the first line of defence. Both cities predate Beer by thousands of years. It is also said that they established fortifications in Edom, Ur, and Baal."

"And an advanced one in Solon, near their huge lake, but it fell first and was lost to history. No one knows where it is now. As for the other fortifications, we know where they are, since they are still standing, Baalbeck, Sodom, and Ra still stand guard."

"But why are you talking about that mosaic?"

"If your dad was alive, he would kick your butt, Anakaton! Look at that flag! Look at it! And compare it to what you remember of that mosaic!"

The duke turned and kept looking at the flag, trying hard to figure out for himself what his friend baron Aaron had so diligently understood. Finally, he began comparing the flag to those shown on the mosaic, and it downed on him. He was seeing the flag of the Pharaoh! But it couldn't be!

"Are you telling me this is the flag of the last Pharaoh?"

"Yes, Anakaton! Yes! Remember your history! Stop seeing it as fables! Remember! Now!"

"You know I fell asleep to the drone of our history teacher! He would have put a hornet's nest to sleep!"

"Still, you can remember some of his lessons, since you managed to pass his exams!"

"Could you please refresh my memory? You know, had I had my way with that guy, he would have been in the dungeon the day dad died! He must have known my feelings, because we never found a trace of him!"

The baron wasn't about to reveal that the deadly boring teacher was his dad, and that he had taken refuge down in Ra, a day before the previous duke had died, on the insistence of his son, who knew the animosity of Anakaton towards him. That his dad had died away from his home left a sore spot on Aaron's heart, but he now knew that Anakaton still held rancour and animosity towards the man. He did not put it beyond the duke to unearth the man and desecrate his body if he ever found out where he was buried. Anakaton may be his friend, but the baron was not dumb enough to overlook the true nature of the man beside him, so he kept quiet. He decided to keep the history lesson to the point, rather than revive the memory of his dad's voice to the duke.

"Very well. The history is simple. The last pharaoh of the kingdom of Atlantis took refuge here before the Flying Serpent, Quetzalcoalt, as it was named, fell on Earth and wiped civilization off its face. Some say it was a dragon, and ever since, they have been blaming dragons for the destruction of civilization. The entire idea permeated the Ancients' view of the world because it caused such a major trauma. According to our teacher, the traces of that event can be found in all religions of the Ancients, from the paradise lost to the influence of a snake, to the dragon lore found everywhere, to the general reference to a Flood. That lost kingdom was named Atlantis, duke. It is reputed to have invented the wheel, writing, medicine, embalmment, and to have had eyes in the sky. It tried to civilize the world many times, but, inevitably, those it tried to help turned on their benefactor in an attempt to steal their riches, unaware that the real value is not in gold but knowledge. The lost paradise was Atlantis."

"All that is nice, but it doesn't explain what I see?"

"I'm getting to it. The other part was something our teacher had problems with, because, as he said himself, he couldn't read the books written by the people of Atlantis. That knowledge was found only in Kantar, and he wasn't even sure if it still was. But there were rumours, and I insist, rumours, that, one day, the Pharaoh would return, accompanied by the walking tree and the wolf. The walking tree, duke, is the emblem of the elven kingdom. You saw it pass right under you with, if my eyes aren't playing tricks on me, king Samson and his son Enron, The Wolf, you were fascinated by; and now you see the flag of Atlantis entering your city. Need I say more?"

The duke looked at his friend, sceptical.

"That is very fascinating, but mere speculations, Aaron."

"Maybe, duke, but meanwhile, we should move to your ducal room, we have at least one king in our walls, maybe two, and it would be extremely discourteous to make them wait."

"As you say, it would be. Let's move, then, Aaron. I am curious as to all this."

"Remember, Anakaton, that diplomacy is of the essence, here. First, they have literally kicked the orcs in the butt, something we haven't been able to do for the past year; second, they far outnumber us, I would say ten to one in the city, and a hundred to one outside. Third, you have sworn fealty to king Samson, and any intention to disregard that might cause your head to roll, and he would be in his right. Finally, the Elven kingdom has answered our call for help, albeit at the last extremity, and, given the size of that army, I now understand why. Getting all that here must have been a huge logistic nightmare."

"Don't remind me my situation, Aaron!" Anakaton replied, acidly. "I feel I am no longer at home!"

"Were you ever? Remember that when your ancestors swore fealty to the king of the day, they also renounced their ancestral right of property. This is royal land on lease for you to run in the King's name. Never forget that."

"Another history lesson?"

"No, history is the past. This is now. But remember that the present is anchored in the past, and the future is anchored in the present. This is why it is important to know history, so you know where you come from, and where you are going. History can teach lessons, however boring it may sound, so that mistakes do not get repeated."

"You remind me of that history teacher with his long morals on facts. Don't start to act that way or I may take on you my feelings about that coward."

The baron bleached, vowing to himself to ask for justice, if indeed this was the king coming to them. He had enough of the humiliations and insults of an ignorant brat that inherited the throne of Ma by sheer seed of dad. He had vowed fealty to the son of a bitch because if he had not, he would have been killed and his family as well, but he held fealty to higher powers as well and could ask of the king that justice be rendered, if only to the memory of his dad.

The duke rejoiced in seeing the baron bleach. For him, that meant he had scored another victory, and no victory was too small not to be enjoyed. Had he known how much hatred his attitude brought about him, he wouldn't have felt so sure of himself.

***

Anakaton and Aaron walked briskly down from the battlements and reached the ducal throne room just as the first units of legionnaires, the Royal cavalry, entered the inner courtyard of the palace. They heard stiff orders being given and immediately obeyed, as a centurie dismounted. They then heard the beat of drums as another centurie walked in. Again a series of orders were heard, a pause, then what sounded like wolf barks and then the neighing of a horse. Then came trumpets and horns, and the horses responded by slamming their hoofs on the pavement of the courtyard, creating such a resonance that the windows shook.

A resounding 'Attention!' followed by another resounding shake of the courtyard caused by the horses preceded a resounding 'Present arms!' The following silence was then broken by a series of barked orders that cascaded too fast for the duke or the baron to follow, and they finally heard noise in the hallway leading to the ducal throne room. The unmistakable clicking of claws were heard on the tiles of the floor, right to the still closed double doors. This was immediately followed by the noise of booted steps marching in unison, so close to each other that it seemed there were only a few walkers. The duke's herald was heard to ask for names and ranks, albeit in a shaky voice, very untypical of him.

The double doors opened and three lines of wolves immediately entered the courtroom, separating it in two by the middle and pushing the numerous courtesans on the side, and creating a passage from the double doors to the throne. A sharp bark had the wolves sit, shoulder to shoulder, on each side of the passage, one row facing the courtesans and the other row facing the passage. The huge black wolf sat at the nearest, lower step of the dais, keeping an eye, without blinking, on the duke and baron, defying them to say anything.

The herald announced, trembling, the arrival of the visitor.

"Duke Greywolf of the Wolf Throne, General commander of the canine armies, and his centurie, the Royal Wolf Guards!"

Duke Anakaton eyed the wolf and his baron alternatively, not trusting his voice, only shaking his head in disbelief. A second or two passed before the next announcement:

"Duke Imhoteph of Ka, accompanied by your son, Arnakaton!" immediately followed by "Duke Ramses of Ra! Duke Poudaropoulos of Astor!" and by "Archduchess Dianne of Solon! Archduke Volant of York! Archduke Dyonisos of Heracles!" The room, already packed, rapidly filled with enough blue blood to run out of oxygen!

The herald took a break, and looked at the duke pleadingly, to no avail. He had a job to do, and the duke was not in a mood to let anyone escape duty, however sore the throat of the herald could be. Therefore, after taking a cup of iced water that appeared mysteriously in his hand and drinking its contents, he resumed the calls.

"Countess Theresa of the Elven Throne, commander of the Royal Eleven Guards! Duke Yamato, commander of the Royal Cavalry of the Wolf Throne! Duke Bush Tail Fox commander of the Royal Fox Guards of the Wolf Throne! Duke Willie Coyote, commander of the Royal Coyote guards of the Wolf Throne! Duke Blackie Dog, commander of the Royal Guard Dogs of the Wolf Throne! Duke Blackie Wolf, commander of the wolf armies of the Wolf Throne! Duke Silver Dart, General commander of the Royal Equine Army of the Wolf Throne! Grand Master Mage Evans Ferriday! Duke Williams of the Throne of the Wolf! Prince Paschal of the Throne of the Wolf! Prince Sitar of the Throne of the Wolf! Prince Harp of the Throne of the Wolf! King Samson of the Elven Throne and his son Prince-Regent Enron!

By then the voice of the herald was beginning to get raspy again and just as he wished for another drink, a new cup of water appeared in his hand. He drank the contents avidly, wondering why it never emptied as he swallowed its contents ravenously, to the mysterious smile of the royals watching him. Finally ready to face the biggest announcement ins his carrier, he brought the room to silence by repeatedly tapping his baton's iron tip on the floor until a fly could have been heard talking!

"King Harold of the Wolf Throne, liege lord of the Elven Throne, Pharaoh of Atlantis!"

Had the roof collapsed, it wouldn't have made any bigger impression than that short introduction. The flag of Atlantis framed by the Wolf and the Tree preceded Harold by three feet, as he walked solemnly towards the dais at the other end of the room. He was followed by Theresa's Royal guards on his left and by Yamato's cavalrymen on the right, still mounted on their destriers.

"Dismount!" ordered Yamato.

The horses and cavalrymen, well versed in the procedures, obeyed immediately, creating a sound wave that threatened to fissure the walls and left many with a ringing bell in their ears for days.

Theresa took over, and ordered "Attention!" which immediately brought both the elves and the cavalry to attention in perfect synchrony, as the canines took stiff standing position, still as statues.

"Present Arms!" ordered Yamato, once again, which brought swords out in a flash, while the legionnaires placed their pila straight at their right. The elves also brought the bows to the front with their quivers of arrows in plain sight.

Harold slowly progressed to the first step of the dais and looked at the still sitting duke, wondering if the man was glued to his seat or paralyzed. He had not said a single word since Greywolf had walked in with his centurie.

The two men gauged each other for a few minutes before Harold broke tradition and took the initiative of talking first.

"I must apologize, duke, for this situation, but your herald was only given partial information as to whom he was really introducing. We sensed he was going into shock and we needed him to perform his duty. May I indulge upon you and complete the introductions properly?"

At a nod from the duke, too stressed to even access his vocal cords, Harold resumed.

"First, Grand Master Mage Evans Ferriday of the Order of the Light! Next, may I reintroduce Duke Yamato of the Wolf Throne and bearer of the soul of Thoth, the Grand Master Scribe of the kingdom of Atlantis and inventor of writing? Second, my sons, prince Paschal of the Wolf Throne and bearer of the soul of Grand Architect Imhophet of Atlantis, and designer of Kantar! To his left is prince Harp, Great Grand Master mage, bearer of the soul of Merlin, Mage to the Court of Atlantis! My other son, Sitar, shows definite signs of being a re-born great grand master of Weapons, but we need to figure a way to trigger his memory. It is also the case with Duke Williams, and absentee Duke Dunbar, my wife Annabelle, and my son, Ian. I suspect that others will come to realize their soul is rooted in Atlantis, including my friend Samson and his son Enron, and Master Healer Francesca. As for me, I am identified as Pharaoh Horus!"

As each name was said, the mosaic behind the duke lighted, bringing to life an additional figure. Although the public seemed to back away further as each figures lighted, their movement went totally unnoticed by the duke himself. Several more figures of the mosaic remained dull, as they had not yet been named.

The duke looked at his baron for guidance, if only briefly, but Baron Aaron had given him his words of caution already, and was not much willing to offer any further advice, given how the man had acted prior to this meeting. As nothing seemed to be forthcoming, the duke prompted:

"Baron, advise me."

"I gave you all the advice you need while we were coming down. Do with it what you wish."

The terse reply only aggravated the duke's mood, and, rather then exercise caution, as the baron had told him, he decided to be confrontational.

"Cousin Anakaton, would you care to explain this farce? And you, son, I had told you to stay out of my presence! How dare you disobey a direct order?"

«Let me deal with that asshole, dad! I don't like this duke one bit, and he has broken all decency and protocols by ignoring you and addressing the duke.»

«Go ahead Sitar, I do not feel very lenient today. If need be, dispose of him.»

"Duke Anakaton, have you forgotten basic protocols?" Sitar thundered, looking at the duke with flashing eyes. "You should have acknowledged the Pharaoh, first and foremost! I can understand you have your doubts, but look around you! Has anyone laughed or shown disrespect towards my dad for his claims?"

"I do not acknowledge the pretensions of an upstart, be he accompanied by God himself! This is my court, and only I decide whom has status in it!"

"I would suggest you reconsider!" said Enron, in an icy voice. "This is very close to denouncing the vow of fealty you took when you sat on that chair! And remember, the person to whom you took this vow stands besides me, in the person of King Samson!"

"My vow of fealty went to him not to a pretentious little twerp that thinks carrying an inflated title gives him rights in my home! Regent my ass! You are a negligible quantity until proven otherwise!"

"Enough!" thundered Sitar. "My dad introduced me as master of arms, and I bear to my side Mitsuko, the blade of Light. I defy you in a Circle of Judgement! Bring the sand and the duke's blade of Swearing, which he did not even have the decency to bring down to meet his liege lord!"

"I do not accept! You have no right to claim a Judgement of Arms!"

This time it was Harp who was furious. A thunderous flash of light emanated from Bata and stuck the dais right in front of the duke. "You will accept, or I will vaporize you on the spot, duke!" he said in a ferocious voice. As he said that the duke's ceremonial blade appeared on his lap, depriving him of any further excuses to delay the confrontation. Immediately following the apparition of the blade, the duke found himself as nude as a baby, and saw in front of the first step, a Circle of Judgement materialize.

"I hate mages! That is why, once I've disposed of the brat, I'll have your head on a spike!" said a very furious duke. "Baron, will you be my man?"

"Find yourself another viper. I was going to ask for your head to king Samson for how you treated my dad, but I do not think I will have to."

"Your dad?"

"The history teacher you so riled about. It was I who sent him away to protect his life from your vindictive nature, duke."

"You betrayed your fealty vows to me, baron, I will personally kill every member of your family!"

"Look who is talking? And to do that, you must first survive that child's defiance, which, from his posture at the edge of the Circle, I very much doubt! That child is a killing machine. But to be true to form, you do need someone to stand with you. Akbar! You have been doing the duke's every little dirty work; you swim in blood, drink it, and enjoy its smell! You even smell like it! Get here, and stand with your employer!"

The Akbar in question walked from behind the throne. He was built like a huge animal on two feet, wore a bloody-red beard, as unruly as his hair, a long, curved blade that showed traces of blood stains, a pair of boots that seemed to be unending, and pants that were tied to the huge waist by a rope rather than a belt. He also wore wide leather belts crossed on his front and back, helping the poor string to hold the baggy short pants in place. Wherever his body was visible, a thick carpet of red hair was visible, giving the man the looks of an animal. But was it really a man? Narrow eyes, black with malice followed every movement of the baron, and a ferocious smile showed pointed, prominent, canines. The ridges of the eyebrows crossed from one side of the almost non-existent forehead to the other, and there was no chin worth mentioning. A prominent, flat nose with huge nasal cavities completed the picture.

Bjorn, AKA Akbar, a Forrest Troll, In His Natural Environment

"Well, well! I thought I had dealt with your kind when we crossed the western mountains! I remember my soul mate made a deal with your kind: stay away from us or else?" said Sitar. "Dad, may I present to you a Troll? I wonder what the duke holds on your head for you to be at his service?"

A mangled "Family," was understood from those who had a sense for language.

"Your family? I understand. It is what you hold most precious, more than your own life."

"Montue God? Montue God! Save family!"

"Yes, I will save your family. But now stand for the duke as his witness. I will dispose of him, for I am Montue, God of War!"

As Sitar identified himself, another figure became bright in the complex mosaic.

«Another one of us identified, dad, and acknowledged by the mosaic on the far wall.»

«That mosaic will be of use! If it is attuned to recognizing who we are as we identify ourselves correctly, we will be able to speed up the recognition process!»

«Let us not rush into things, dad. Remember what happened to some of us as the process occurred. We are vulnerable here.»

«Agreed, Harp. Thanks for the word of caution.»

«No wonder you boys impressed the shit out of me!» Yamato said, «The God of War, or more precisely, the Great Grand Master of Arms of Atlantis, guiding Sitar in training Harp! Who could have found a better teacher!»

"Now duke, stand for judgement by arms for your forfeiture, your crimes against those whom you had the care, for betraying my word to these creatures in exchange for their help in crossing the northern mountains as we progressed to Kantar, for mistreating your own family, for betraying your duty as liege lord to the baron! Stand, here and now!"

Sitar pointed his blade at the opponent's starting ring, and the duke found himself teleported right in its center, falling on his ass as he was still leaning on a now vanished support. Had the duke considered things logically, he would have asked for mercy, for good sense dictated he stood no chance against Montue, the fabled Warrior of Atlantis. Had he still been able to reason, the teleportation should have cooled his ardour, but it only fuelled his rage at the humiliation. All he saw was the look of pity from Sitar, which he took as condescending, and this finished removing any light of reason from the duke. He stood up rapidly and spread his legs wide, ready to jump into the battle ring.

"Duke Imhoteph, remove duke Arnakaton from this room. I do not wish for him to see his dad butchered!" ordered Sitar.

"He isn't duke, and he never will be as long as I live!"

"Formalities, formalities! It's what I hate the most about this, it's the formalities!" Sitar said, dismissively.

"Prince Sitar of the Wolf Throne, Montue of Atlantis, I, Arnakaton, formally requests the privilege to stay. I will hold no grudge against you for disposing of my dad, I so swear on my life!"

The formality of the request struck a chord in Sitar's heart, and he accepted. Turning towards Enron, he asked him to be his witness, and with a flick of a hand, stood naked in his circle, awaiting the signal for the battle to begin. However Anakaton did not wait for the signal, he tried to take Sitar by surprise, charging across the sand circle. The problem is that the duke completely misjudged the surface and the size of the circle. At best, even on a solid surface, he would have had to run twenty paces; now, sand doesn't allow running at best of times, and dry sand several inches thick makes for a very poor running platform! He had not even taken ten steps that he slipped and fell on his ass, getting a raw hide for his efforts, and a lot of laughter from the audience.

"It seems that the duke is a two left feet dancer of the blade. Are you sure you need my help to kill yourself?" Sitar said as he looked at the duke, sprawled on his back, sputtering sand that had found its way into his mouth. Sitar calmly made his way toward the center of the circle, and looked with contempt at the duke, still dazed from his fall.

"Come on, duke! Stand up! Not even your joystick seems able to take its rightful position! If this was a chess game, I'd say you surrendered before the first move, from the looks of it!"

The duke committed the ultimate stupidity by using his blade to stand up. Had the Circle of Judgement been outside, with an underlying surface of dirt, it might have worked, but the layer of sand was a mere six inches thick, with tiles underneath. The blade, instead of digging into the dirt, slid sideways, and the duke fell face first in the sand, breaking his nose in the process.

"Had I caused this, duke I would ask you the ritual question about first blood, but since it's your own dumbness that caused this mess, forget it! I'm beginning to wonder if Ian wouldn't be a more formidable foe, and he isn't even six months old yet!"

The duke, dizzy from the punch the floor had administered to his face, got up, first on all fours, then on his haunches, before launching himself at Sitar blade horizontal, in an effort to gut the boy that kept ridiculing him. Sitar had read the body language of the duke perfectly, and simply rotated to let the duke's blade pass to his left. As the duke came within range of Mitsuko, Sitar continued his rotation and picked the duke at neck level, sending the head into a bloody parabola that left the body in a pool of blood and the head sitting on the ducal throne.

"Duke Arnakaton, your throne awaits your seat!" Harp said.

"My seat?" Arnakaton said, confused.

"Your bum, your ass, your rear end, what you choose to call what you use to sit on."

"A chair?"

«Dad, I think Arnakaton is the perfect example of the product of consanguine reproduction, a dimwit of first magnitude!»

«Yes, I see that. We'll have to see to it that he isn't left alone in a position of power.»

"Go sit on the throne, Arnakaton." Sitar said, gently, as he looked at the much older man with sorrow; he realized that in the man's body resided the mind of a child.

"But it's all bloody and occupied!"

"Oh, sorry, Arnakaton!" Sitar did not even blink as he sent the previous duke's part elsewhere, along with the bloody sand, the desecrated blade of Swearing, and the blood stains found along the trajectory followed by the missile head.

"Cool! Where did it go?" asked an enthusiastic Arnakaton.

"Where he had intended to put mine, duke, on a spike, at the central marketplace."

"Body? Food! Enemy food for warrior!" said the Troll as he looked around for the previous duke's carcass.

"Sorry, I do not eat my enemies. And anyways, that duke would probably get a vulture sick!" Sitar explained. "Anyways, I made a promise to you. Arnakaton, do you know where your dad keeps his family?"

"Yes, deep in the last basement. I will guide you, prince Sitar."

"OK. Harp, with me! I do not entirely trust the garrison here. Dad, we will have to prepare a swearing-in ceremony for tomorrow morning."

"Agreed, son. Be careful."

As the duke led Sitar towards the basements, Sitar asked the Troll for his name. They heard an unpronounceable sound, which they interpreted as Bjorn. Half an hour later Bjorn came back with his family carrying his youngest son in his arms, sorrow deeply apparent in his face.

"Francesca, Harp, Paschal, Enron, dad, I need your help. He is barely alive! That duke was a monster! Too bad he is dead, I would have skinned him with a dull razor blade!"

The small, severely emaciated and tortured body was placed on the floor where the Circle of Judgement had been. First Mitsuko was called upon to heal what it could, and then the boys united their minds to heal the deeper, more complex wounds. Finally Francesca was called upon to give the small hairy figure the will to live.

"Francesca, search deep within yourself, you have seen who we are, you are one of us!" said a desperate Sitar, as the body refused to emerge out of coma and face life anew.

A formidable roar escaped her lips as she looked, feeling powerless, at the fast fading body. Suddenly, she touched the prone form, and a deep red colour enveloped it, as she said 'I, Sekhmet, call you back to life, for this is not your hour of destiny!" The command jolted the body, and his hair, which had turned sickly dirt red, recovered its healthy deep red and shiny lustre. The deep black eyes slowly opened to see the figure of his dad leaning over him, and his mother hugging his newborn sister. Everyone had been so focussed on the child that the brightened figure of Sekhmet went unnoticed in the mosaic.

"I have fulfilled my promise to you, Bjorn. You and your family are free to return to the land of your ancestors!" Sitar said, formally freeing them from their slavery.

"Stay. Much to say, Montue."

"Fine. Greywolf? See to it that the Troll family is fed. They need a fresh kill. They eat their meat raw."

Turning to Bjorn, Sitar told him to follow the wolf, that he would bring him where there would be food for him and his family. Trusting Montue, the God of War, for He had always kept his word, Bjorn and his family obediently took after Greywolf.

As the Troll family left the room, escorted by twenty-four wolves, Samson looked at Sitar, perplexed.

"I wonder how he knew your hidden name?"

"That is the first question I will ask of him when he comes back from his hunt with the wolves."

***

The first order of the day remained finding what to do with all the people in the overflowing city of Thebes, whose infrastructure had already been severely taxed by the influx of refugees from the duchy. However interesting it might have been to teleport all those unable to contribute to the army deep behind the lines, into Eloise and its region, that would have been impractical, if only because that area was now also overtaxed with the arrival of the Queen and the people of Elven Woods, and refugees from Radisson. After an overview of the situation, Enron took the stand, and addressed the crowd within the throne room.

"The situation is this. We need to evacuate mothers taking care of young children, expectant mothers, men taking care of children because their wife is deceased, and the elderly and the sick. The total population of the city now amounts to some ten thousand elves, and three thousand dogs, around a thousand horses, donkeys, ponies, and other equines, as you have lost some during the protracted fight with the orcs. The last cost of the battle is estimated at three thousand and four hundred. A hundred soldiers are guarding the western bridge to Ra. After consultation with the other royals, I, as Regent, have decided that these people that are unable to contribute to the war effort will be evacuated to the capitals of Dioniz. Ultrech, and Sophia, which have seen their population reduced by the volunteers that joined the royal army as we passed through these cities. These cities, named Sophia, Loren, and Hamburg, are sister cities, so you will still be living relatively close to each other. A Royal decree has been sent to those we left behind to prepare for your arrival. The Royal Canine Postal Service is very effective, and the mail has already reached its intended addressees. Prepare yourself, and help your charges ready themselves. As we do not intend to help the orcs live on our hard work, we will practice the same policy used in Elven Woods, that is, the scorched earth approach to evacuating this city, whose defence, even with our best intentions, has run out of options. The water of the river is now undrinkable, as was evidenced by the number of reported cases of cholera, dysentery, and other water-based sicknesses."

"Your highness, what is the cause of this pestilence?" asked a healer of the city. "The water intakes at the bottom of the lake had always been safe!"

Harp stood and looked at the man.

"I am sorry to say it is caused by the vast number of decomposing cadavers the Kwai is dumping into the lake, composed of crocodile priests and orcs. It is an aftermath of our battle with them as we entered Ka's territory, up north. Thousands upon thousands died in that battle, both orcs and priests, and were washed down by the flood. You certainly saw a sudden rise in the water level of the lake, some days ago, which has subsided since."

A city engineer stood up and took the stand.

"Yes, prince, we saw the water raise by ten feet, it overwhelmed the dams and levies we had built to protect the lower portion of the city. When it retired, we had a huge sanitary problem, as there were considerable amounts of orcs, priests, fish, and waterfowl on the streets. We had barely begun the cleanup when another attack of the orcs began, so we had to close the gates. We took the policy of throwing the corpses over the walls rather than burry them. What we saw was disgusting. The orcs ate everything, to the last bit, even fairly rotten corpse that we had to carry in wheelbarrows."

"We know. Orcs eat anything."

"What caused the surge?"

"A dam broke."

"A dam, prince? But there is no dam on the Kwai."

"There was one for a short time. You certainly noticed that the lake had dropped just before the surge? That was the dam blocking the Kwai from contributing to the lake's water level."

"That explains a lot, then. Thank you for your explanation."

Harp was happy the city engineer did not ask for further explanation on the dam and its sudden appearance on the swift-flowing Kwai.

"Now, back to the issue of evacuating the duchy, for it is what this royal order means. We need to dispose of your capacity at arrow and bow making, but we cannot keep you here. Artisans of this industry will be moved towards Beer, with all their equipment, and currently in production weapons. There is an urgent need for increased production of all types of weapons. We also need to step up the production of food, and your duchy is well known for its expertise in the art of raising cattle, sheep, pork, and poultry. We need a thousand-fold increase in each species, and maybe ten times that in poultry, to supply our allies the canines. The orcs are ravaging their hunting grounds, and we need to feed them. All necessary equipment and land allotment will be granted. The duke of Astor has written a decree of allotment for the proper number of farms, to be located in the lower, southernmost part of his duchy. As soon as the first contingents have been evacuated further south, we will deal with the farm equipment and animals. You will be supplied with dogs, foxes, wolves, and coyotes to see to the proper guarding of your livestock. You need not worry, the canines know their role, and will not eat the production, but it is your responsibility to feed them properly. If you do not, we will know, and there will be hell to pay."

Although some grumping could be heard, the decisive tone of Enron and his apparent in-depth knowledge of the issues left little options to those concerned.

"We will do our best to evacuate as many goods as we can so that your family inheritance isn't left behind. Report to the duke of Kantar and baron Aaron for the organization of the evacuation. Harp? Sitar? Would you mind supplying the containers for the first evacuees?

The two princes acknowledged the request with a movement of the head.

"Paschal, what can we do about their homes?"

"The farmers already lost their property to the orcs, and will need new homes on their new lands. We could probably recover up to ninety percent of the building material of this city and use it to reconstruct homes for them. Those urban residents of Thebes will find themselves in another urban area, where there are currently numerous vacated properties. We can help them relocate, even clean up the homes, and see to it they are integrated into the fabric of their now habitat."

"What if the old inhabitants come back?" asked an old man, which had been presented to the boys as an earl.

"This is very unlikely, since these people are part of our casualties. The last battle cost us about five centuries of elves, mostly from the cities of Hamburg and Loren. Their families have been notified, and offered the option to evacuate further south. Most accepted, and are getting ready for evacuation by convoy towards their respective destination, namely cities in Kent and Vicksburg."

"Prince Enron, far from me to doubt your words, but the battle just finished, the cadavers of the orcs are still warm enough to heat the river, and you tell me that you know the exact number of casualties, who they are, and that their family has been notified and informed of an option of being evacuated further south already? I find this hard to believe, even if you tell me that the Royal Canine Postal Service is efficient; there has to be a limit to efficiency!"

"Well, I didn't tell you we lost a thousand wolves, three hundred and fifty foxes, and some four hundred dogs and coyotes, along with about a hundred equines. Their family have also been notified, and have accepted relocation further south as well. It is these canines and equines that will be working on the farms in Astor, so, please, they have already given for our cause, be humane towards them!"

"Notified? How?"

"Look around. These horses and canines are wild. We talk to them, and they talk back to us."

Aaron stood up.

"Earl, my dad taught you history, when you were young. Remember the legends of Atlantis, and that the return of the Pharaoh would reveal marvels long lost? I suspect this is one such marvel, one of many."

"Ok, talking to animals I can accept. How do you plan to get us out of here?"

"Teleportation. It is tiring and we do it reluctantly, because it needs an anchor point at the destination. We will probably have to work in shifts to do it."

The earl looked at Enron, sceptical.

«Dunbar reports he is ready to return with the second equine army, and additional elven centuries. Maybe he should pop in here to settle the question?» Harp suggested, always the showman.

«Agreed. Mom will be anchor, and we will teleport the first eleven centurie with Dunbar. Did he tell you how many centuries?»

«Fifteen, mostly from Vicksburg, Radisson, Landshire, and Kent. We are too packed in here for a safe teleportation of a centurie. Let's teleport only Dunbar, and then he'll go outside the city with Williams to assign quarters to the incoming units.»

«Ok.» Turning to the earl, Enron said, smiling, "I believe you have doubts about teleportation. The Great Grand Master of the Road, duke Dunbar, which was supervising the evacuation of Elven Woods, just reported he is ready to join us, since his task is complete. Duke Dunbar, ready?"

Suddenly, Duke Dunbar appeared right in front of the earl, who fell back on his ass, so surprised was he to see a man appear less than a foot in front of him! Dunbar, being the gentleman, bent over and extended his hand to help the earl to stand.

"Sorry if I startled you. I must admit it takes some getting used to!"

"Dunbar, Bush Tail will get you to the northern exit of the upper city with an escort of foxes. Duke Grand Marshall Silver Dart has a horse for your use, and is waiting your arrival to anchor the teleportation of Star''s army." Harp said.

The duke left immediately with the foxes to find a fitting place for the returning equine army and the fifteen additional elven centuries.

"Any more doubts, earl?" Enron asked, ironic.

"No, prince!"

"You have your marching orders. Get to your people and get them ready. We begin teleportation at prime tomorrow morning. Move it!" Enron stated decisively, ending the meeting.

***

The evening was far from over for the princes, who first helped bring in the second Horse Army from Eloise, then the additional Elven units. Immediately after that, Harp and Sitar began materializing containers for those that were due to leave early the next morning, including for the dogs. Paschal and Enron made a memorial service for those who had sacrificed their lives during the battle, and proceeded to their dispersal by having them fall from high up until their corpse burned from friction. The spectacle of these falling stars would forever be remembered in the minds of those who had participated in the battle of Ma. Yet the beauty of the ceremonial could not erase the sadness of the losses. It took until matins for the boys to finish their work, and they were very tired.

The next morning, as the sun tainted the snow of the mountaintops with pink, Duke Williams bound with the Wolf Commander and asked that he stand in the middle of the agora in Loren. The wolf understood he was to supply visual feedback to the duke, and promptly ordered to the patrols to force the evacuation of the area, before standing on all fours looking at a clear area in front of him.

«May I suggest you lay on your stomach, duke Williams? That way, you will not have to compensate for my lack of height.»

«Good idea!» So it was that those watching Williams were surprised to see him lie on his belly before vanishing! A few minutes later, Williams sent «Ready to anchor a visualization!»

«Porting in three, two, one. Now!» Sitar replied as the first hundred women and children disappeared from the agora of Thebes to rematerialize, along with their goods, in the central place of Loren, The wolf commander, having been appraised of the situation, took charge of sending each family to a freshly released property. The families of Loren that had accepted their move south had been leaving their homes since an hour before prime, and, as each made its way to the plaza of Hamburg, they were sorted according to their final destination by elves. Three ports of elves were done to Loren, and then Williams took a quick horse ride to the central place of Sophia. There too, three ports of elves were done, plus two ports of canines, that moved into the ducal palace for their living quarters, at the insistence of Archduke Volant. The final port had to be delayed as the agora of Hamburg was filled with the families and goods of those leaving for their new homes further south.

Dunbar, having figured out why Williams had acted the way he did, decided to do the same and use a dog in Clark, Kent's capital, to anchor his teleportation. However, the dog forgot to tell him it had been raining nails for the past forty-eight hours, and Dunbar found himself flat on his belly in a mud hole!

After a few well-chosen words that would have made the devil bleach, he was ready for his part in the process. Only two ports of one hundred each were required to Clark, and Dunbar then repeated the process to get to Vicksburg. His sudden apparition in the middle of the square took many by surprise for the capacity of the royals to teleport had been dismissed as mere stories for grandmothers! It took Dunbar some time to get the square evacuated, and then the teleportation of five centuries of elves began in earnest, to the amazement of the populace. The last group was to go to Pierre, the capital of Radisson, and the process, now well practiced, repeated itself. The evacuation of Ma's capital could resume in earnest.

Dunbar, no longer needed in Pierre, teleported himself to Delphi, Astor's capital, ready to play anchor for the continued evacuation of Thebe and its chattel and farmers. Meanwhile, Williams, having finished his task in Hamburg, ported himself to Beer, using a horse mare as visualisation anchor, as he thought he would escape Dunbar's misadventures that way. Wrong! He did materialize higher than the ground, but he misjudged the size of the huge mare he had taken for anchor and found he had to fall back a foot, a foot too much! He slipped on some unspeakable material and fell on his ass in horse dung! Williams probably made Dunbar blush!

«Williams! I never knew you had such a rich vocabulary! Will you teach me?» Harp said on the waves, to the utter embarrassment of the duke!

The evacuation process resumed and by sext, both the artisans and the farmers and their livestock had been displaced to their new theatre of operation. The farmers were each given directives to their new homes, which were being picked up from Thebes by Paschal and Harp, and displaced to their new location with the help of horses patrolling the countryside south of Delphi. Careful care was taken to solidly anchor the homes to the rock, and to ensure that the animals would not disperse while their owners moved into their new farm. The canines and equines were especially appreciated for their diligent work. Overall, the farmers did not lose a single day of production, a critical condition for dairy cows, which cannot go without their twice daily milking. The artisans lost a day, but still, that was minor, considering how much they would have lost had they taken the road. As the sun began to set, the only people left in Thebes were the new recruits, the army of Ma, which accounted for about half the population, given the situation they had been under, and the royal army. Everything was set to close down the town.

***

After a quick supper, as everyone was very tired, the royals, including Dunbar and Williams, retired to the ducal throne to discuss the next day's plans. Williams and Dunbar kept exchanging glances, and puffing in laughter at their day's misadventures.

"What do we do with this place?" Enron asked, beginning the evening's discussion with the most critical issue.

"I really don't know. The city is much bigger than Elven Woods, and is made mostly of stones. I do not think there is any magic underground to which we could anchor a defence or a protection, contrary to Kantar or Elven Woods. There is a tiny magic focus, but it is only to sustain the mosaic, and is far from sufficient to protect even it from desecration by the orcs." Harp said.

"How much of the city have we teleported today?" asked Enron.

"I don't know, a lot, that is for sure. Let me check something," replied Paschal. He took out a city plan and quickly estimated things.

"This is the original city plan I drew some years back, and the city has not expanded since outside of its walls in any significant way. We teleported just about everything that could be, leaving only the fortifications standing. This city is an empty shell, to the exclusion of the palace and its necropolis, below the central courtyard."

"Some years back, he says! Some years back! You do have a way to minimize things, Paschal!" exclaimed Dunbar.

"Well, what is nineteen thousand years give or take a few hundred, in the face of eternity?"

"Seen under that angle "

"Could we port the palace, its associated buildings, and even the city walls and battlements, even if it means leaving them in a pile of blocks to be reassembled later?" asked Samson. "I really don't like to leave anything behind for our enemies to use."

"Maybe, but we would need to join together, and even include mom in the process. This is no trivial matter, Samson," replied Harp.

"Let's try it, Harp. What do we have to lose?" suggested Sitar.

"Not much except the building never materializing where we wanted it to."

"And given the mass of this thing, I think we need to do some careful navigation calculation, Paschal and I," added Dunbar. 'This isn't a centurie of horses, or goods, or people, whose mass is minor. This thing is displacing a mountain, since we need to bring the necropolis with the palace."

"Talking about that, did you guys notice that there is an additional illuminated figure behind us, the healer Sekhmet, recognizable by that cat's head on her crown."

"That's no mere cat, it's a lion, Enron." Said Francesca. "I have been recovering a lot since yesterday. It is so sad we lost so much during the migration."

"Good, now look at this one, still dark. He uses a compass, and a strange string with knots on it."

"That is probably a navigator, Enron, a road master of the day. To move on the seas, or in other uncharted lands where no road exists, you use these knots to measure the height of the sun from the horizon. Below a knot, you are further north than the city the knot is associated with, and above, you are further south than the city."

"That is interesting Dunbar. I wonder who invented that trick, which predates, I am sure, the invention of the sextant by quite a long shot." Williams wondered.

"That is interesting, Dunbar, I agree, but we both know the sun doesn't reach the same height each day of the year, and that you need a way to keep the time accurately," objected Enron.

"Now it is my turn to intervene, prince," said Williams, to their utter amazement. "I always was fascinated by time, and there are many ways to measure it. One of them is to count the number of times a hourglass has been turned, as we know sand drips from one side to the other at a constant rate. There is the clepsydra, or water clock, which uses the constant flow of water to measure time, there are pendulum movements, and there is the constant release of energy by a spring. The later are inventions of the Ancients, but the hourglass and clepsydra were invented well before the Ancients. What fascinates me is this other image, which shows a geometric form, a crystal, associated with a timepiece, which I recognize as a sophisticated clepsydra. This is very fascinating!"

As the royals rested, Akbar returned with Greywolf; he showed a prominent belly, and his family seemed to be sated.

«The hunt was difficult, Greywolf?»

«Yes, but ultimately successful. We finally found a boar and let them feed on its carcass. They needed it more than us. The orcs have been ravaging everything in the area, and the only animals left are those that can fly or swim. I suspect we disposed of the last boar available, and from the hard chewing that we saw, the meat was far from tender.»

«And difficult to find. It's the first time I see you take a day and a half to find food!»

«There are no canines in the mountains anymore. They are all here. We had to hunt by nose.»

Sitar, satisfied with the answers, turned towards the Troll.

"You said you had things to tell me, Bjorn? But first, please answer a question for me: how did you know my sacred name, which has not been said from time immemorial to your people?"

"You god of us; you saved us during great danger. You brought us to safe place in big mountains far, far to the north. You promised you would return in time of need. You have returned in time of need. Land no longer good. Great White Teeth eat it and push us ever further south."

«Great White Teeth?" wondered Samson.

"Do they disappear during the nice season?"

"Less and less, and push us towards the danger of low lands, where it glows at night."

"I think I understand. He is telling me that glaciers are progressing on the land I gave them in the mountains. This, in turn pushes their food supply further down and closer to the Forbidden Lands found in the area. I suspect they have been moving south to escape the increasing encroachment of the glaciers, and the worsening climate. We are seeing a cooling of the overall weather. It has consequences, such as longer dry spells, a displacement of animals further south, and a shortening of the growth season in high latitudes."

"Could it be the explanation for the north to south movement of both orcs and crocodiles?" Enron asked.

"It could well be. If you look outside during the day, you will notice snow-caps on the mountains. Baron Aaron, was it the case when you were young, that the snow was visible this early?"

"Actually, no, it is only the second year we see snow this early."

"Is this movement away from your given land the cause of your capture?"

"Yes. Family exploring for new food, new home, met evil men captured son, sold us to other men and they sold us to last evil man God killed."

"I wonder how many families of Trolls exist?" Harold asked.

"Few. Life difficult in mountains." Bjorn replied.

"Another problem to solve for us," said Enron. "What can we do for them, Sitar?"

"For now, the best would be to move them again, probably on the western edges of the Elven kingdom, if you are agreeable. Preferably a place as far as possible from our own population."

"Mistral would do, if they are forest inhabitants. It is very hilly, the western edge is not developed, and there is ample water supply from the mountain streams."

"That would be fine with them, I think. We would need to create a royal reserve in the area, prohibit any encroachment on their lands, Enron. Would that be acceptable to the Elven Kingdom?"

"I see no objection, Sitar. However, the solution may only be a stopgap measure. If the situation with the orcs and crocodiles continue degrading, we may find ourselves pushed further south than we anticipate."

"Samson, the situation may be even worse than we view it; from the weather pattern changes, who knows how far south the ice will move?"

"Especially since from the time of our kingdom's collapse to today there has been at least two major advances of the ice on the land, covering well beyond the southern edge of the elven kingdom. The Ancients called them ice ages. The massive migration of orcs and crocodiles would indicate that this is occurring anew."

"You have ways of keeping me awake, Harold!"

Sitar turned to the Troll, who seemed lost at the fast exchange, and began to talk more slowly. "Bjorn, I and the other gods have decided to help your people once again. We will move them to a place nearer here, where there is forest, water, food, and safety, for the time being. I must be honest with you, Bjorn. This may be only temporary, and we may need to move your people again later. Whatever the conditions, we will do our best to see to your people's protection. Is this acceptable?"

"Montue god save us once more?"

"Yes."

"Acceptable. Will tell people of Montue return when I reach them. Long way from home."

"Of that, I am certain. I will help you reach your people tomorrow, as we leave this place. Are there wolves in your lands?"

"Yes, many."

"Then the eyes of the wolves will be my eyes. Go rest with Greywolf. You seem to have been able to communicate, since the hunt was successful. I will feed you tomorrow."

"Montue God will hunt for family?"

"Yes, I will hunt tonight."

Had Sitar known how prophetic this statement would be, he would have shivered.

"Thank you. Family tired. Will rest."

***

"Why did you tell him you were a god, Sitar? This is a lie." Harp said.

"I remembered that question, asked by Hauhet, as we first met these people during our trek to reach the northern land bridge joining the two worlds. You weren't there since you were organizing the passage of that narrow, new sea that was blocking the way of our migration. My answer was and is a question in return, what makes a god? He couldn't answer. Well, I had time to think this out in my many reincarnations, and I found out that a god is someone that presents powers that the knowledge of the people faced with that entity cannot explain, duplicate or reproduce. For the Trolls, we are gods. However hard we try to explain to them otherwise, we are gods. The Ancients said that any sufficiently advanced science is indistinguishable from magic, and that Gods were simply advanced scientists. We fit that definition, for the Trolls. We probably fit the definition for the orcs and crocodiles as well, but they must have a different view of godhood. For Trolls, gods are benevolent, and must be obeyed. I have no idea of the pantheon for orcs or crocodiles, but from their behaviour, their gods must be bloodthirsty."