Sword of the Gods: Prince of Tyre (Sword of the Gods Saga)

by Anna Erishkigal

  If the Centauri could be visualized as a funnel, then Kunopegos thought of himself as the narrow spigot which dropped off into nothingness. Sterile. The last of his bloodline.

  Or at least he had been until Lucifer introduced him to his wife…

  He stared at the stallion who swished a medical wand through the blue, translucent gel smeared over his wife's swollen abdomen, praying for good news. The swish of the doctor's tail, back and forth, hold, back and forth, hold, broke the prognosis even before he had finished.

  "I see … inside … the ma-sheen?" Aigharn reached for the tiny, black-and-white display monitor of the ultrasound. Her swollen abdomen, far too large for a mare … correction … human woman … barely three months pregnant, got in her way.

  "Not right now," Doctor Fufluns took her hand and squeezed it. "Machine … broken. First must speak to husband."

  Aigharn nodded, tears welling in her beautiful, almond-shaped eyes. She knew the news was bad. Her lips trembled as Kunopegos kissed her then followed the doctor out of the medical bay into the viewing chamber, where they could watch Aigharn struggle out of the hospital gown to get back into her regular clothes.

  “She is too tiny to bear such an enormous foal," Doctor Fufluns said after a long silence. "I fear you will have no choice but to abort it."

  "Like Hades!!!" Kunopegos practically shouted. "This is my foal you're talking about!"

  Fufluns tail swished again, back and forth, stop, back and forth, stop. Kunopegos had made these late-night trips down to the medical bay often enough, the hallways cleared of all personnel and Aigharn clad in the strange, shapeless burqa which hid what she was from his crew, to know when the doctor bore more bad news. Lately, all the news had been bad.

  "Perhaps you can try again," Fufluns said gently. "After the Prime Minister has passed his trade resolution lifting the seed world restrictions from her homeworld."

  "I will not kill my own foal!" Kunopegos hooves struck sparks off the deck. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, more to ease the pressure that felt as though his heart was breaking than anger.

  He turned back to the window to watch his wife clutch at the womb the doctor said was out of room and wince in pain. Three months gone … eight more to go … although Lucifer had sworn it only took her species nine months to bear a colt, not the eleven of a Centauri mare. A duty-calendar was posted at the entrance to the sick bay, laying out the roster for the next few months. Those months taunted him. Five hundred and thirty-five years he'd try to sire a colt and now that he finally had one on the way, his foal was condemned to die for wont of a measly few months!

  "Lucifer said no harm would come to her if we took the colt eleven weeks early!" His uniform made a tearing sound as pressure caused by pulling his biceps tighter across his chest caused the fabric to rip. "Perhaps if we took the foal a little earlier than that? Took a chance? Maybe we could save her?"

  Her. Already he thought of the blurry, black and white picture he kept in his chest pocket, above his heart, as his. His foal. The one he had waited for over 500 years.

  "You need to choose between Aigharn's life and your daughters,” Doctor Fuflun sighed. "The way this pregnancy is progressing, your wife won't live long enough to make it to the earliest point we've ever been able to take a colt and have it survive."

  Kunopegos stared though the glass at his mate, dressed now and waiting for him to come in and tell her everything would be alright. Just once he had taken her. Just once he had given in to his species overwhelming instinct for a stallion to mount a mare that was in heat and consummate his marriage. She had bled so profusely afterwards he had thought he had killed her!

  When they had first mated, he'd thought her a marginally sentient creature. If you'd asked him then, his answer would have been easy. Yes. Risk the mare and save the foal. To a species teetering at the edge of extinction, the only thing that mattered was to save the foal.

  Then the drugs Lucifer had injected into Aigharn to keep her pliant wore off. The personality which emerged was different from the childlike doll he had thought of as little more than a vessel when Lucifer had made him go through the farce of a marriage ceremony. It was why Lucifer had insisted he marry her, he realized now. To open him to court-martial for two crimes, not just one, three if you counted the fact he had taken her without her consent, since being drugged did not constitute 'consent' under Alliance law.

  His sharp intake of breath pressed his ribcage against his too-tight grip, making his chest hurt all the more. His heart beat beneath the biceps he couldn't pull tight enough to press away the feeling it was breaking. Terrible choices! Why had he given into his instinct to mate with the mare when his common sense had told him Lucifer's reassurances were a lie!

  "How much longer do we have to decide?" The words came out a mournful bass, a broken horn that no longer had the heart to herald the charge.

  "Not long," Fuflun said. "Maybe a few weeks? Your foal is petite for a Centauri, but she has already surpassed your wife's ability to carry her to term. Aigharn is beginning to experience renal failure. If you wait too long, you will lose them both."

  The tears finally began to flow.

  "What's the earliest you've ever harvested a foal and had it survive?"

  "Twenty-eight weeks," Fuflun said. "But after you first came to me with her to confirm she was pregnant, I did a little digging. The Emperor did some research on saving the human root race after Nibiru was destroyed and of his twelve seed worlds went down in flames. Some of the purebred humans had babies he saved as early as twenty-two weeks. If Lucifer acts quickly to get this override, your foal will be that much closer to term. If you throw yourself at the mercy of the Eternal Emperor, before he court-marshals you, I believe he will do all he can to save her."

  "I should do so now," Kunopegos said. He inhaled and it came out a long, shuddering breath. "The gods help me, I should do the right thing and do so now!"

  He would not go to the Emperor … and neither would Fuflun. Both knew what the Emperor would do upon being faced with this dilemma. Abort the foal. Keep the mare. Send her back to his precious seed world and let his species continue to go extinct.

  Doctor Fuflun's front hoof pawed anxiously on the deck. He'd be implicated, as well, if Kunopegos went to the Emperor. As the ship's physician, not only had he sworn an oath to harm none, but he also had a legal obligation to report violations of the hybrid anti-fraternization, anti-marriage, anti-seed world, and anti-rape laws the minute they came to light. And it had been rape! Oh gods, it had! It had taken him days, after the drugs had worn off, to make Aigharn understand he had mistaken her actions to disrobe as consent. He hadn't known she was in a fugue state, some sort of drug induced stupor!

  "You're not the only hybrid who hasn't been able to sire a child, Sir," Fuflun finally said. "I kept silent for a reason, which is why I suspect Lucifer chose you as a recipient … he knew you weren't the only stallion on this ship experiencing problems."

  The two stallions stared in silence at the tiny human female sitting at the edge of the hospital bed, twirling her jet-black hair, her dark eyes filled with worry.

  "How long until Lucifer can push through his override?" Fuflun finally asked.

  "He doesn't know," Kunopegos said. "Shay'tan started jerking him around, withholding shipments and claiming there have been delays. He's afraid if he doesn't build a critical mass of votes, the old races will rally behind the Emperor and shoot his override down."

  Fuflun sighed. "Did you ask him why he'd told you it was safe to mate with her? Even he should have known the thought of such of thing was absurd. Even for him."

  Kunopegos hesitated.

  "What?"

  "He says he doesn't remember saying that."

  "I've known you a long time," Fuflun said. "You're a bit of a hothead, but never have I known you to take a mare against her will, or even exert pressure on one to pair with you for a mating appointment, even after the mares began to shun you. You must have had witnes
ses?"

  "His Chief of Staff required total secrecy for the meeting where he gifted her to me," Kunopegos said, "in the Sata'an custom of giving a bride for valor. He claimed Lucifer never said any such thing, and those two goons he always has shadowing him backed his claims."

  Fuflun's tail began that back and forth, hold motion again, the one which clued Kunopegos he found fault with what he said.

  "You don't believe me?"

  "I believe that you believe you," Fuflun said. "Sir. May I speak freely?"

  "You're the Chief Medical Officer," Kunopegos said. "On all matters that relate to my health, including my mental health, you have total sway. You're about to tell me to get my head examined?"

  "Not in so many words," Fuflun said. "It's just…"

  "It's just what?"

  "Either way, we're all in a whole heap of dung, Sir," Fuflun said. "Especially you. Insanity is a viable legal defense against all crimes. Including…"

  "Including negligent homicide," Kunopegos said, staring through the window at his wife, who had by now burst into tears at their long delay.

  "Just in case she doesn't make it," Fuflun said. "Or your foal. In case we have to make a hard choice to save her life. Who knows what legal actions the Emperor might take to retaliate against you if the foal is stillborn before Lucifer pushes through his override?"

  That part of him which had been trained from birth to be a brilliant military commander, to look at all the angles of how he might use assets on the ground and exploit his enemies weaknesses, warred against that part of him that was nothing but a soldier, a man who simply wanted to charge in, guns blazing, to save the good guys and kill off the bad. Right now, he was one of the bad ones.

  "I knew damned well what I was doing was against common sense when I mated with her," Kunopegos said. "Now if you'll excuse me. I cannot bear to watch my wife cry."

  Doctor Fuflun stepped aside as he tölted back into the sick bay to rejoin his wife. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

  "Baby … not good?" Aigharn asked.

  "Baby okay," Kunopegos used the pidgin of Galactic Standard and a few words in her language he'd picked up to help them communicate. "Aigharn not good. Aigharn sick. Baby too big."

  Aigharn's hand moved protectively over her abdomen, already an unbelievable size for a mare so tiny. Centauri mares carried their offspring in their animal half, the half Aigharn did not possess, which had naturally evolved to carry an offspring as large as a Centauri colt.

  "Baby too big too soon," Aigharn said. "Husband big. Baby big, too."

  His nostrils flared as the simplicity of her words twisted in his heart like a knife. He should have known better than to mount her no matter what Lucifer had told him, although the icy, calculating man which had brought him Aigharn, and the puzzled, clownish man he had confronted at the Emperor's Palace might as well be two different men, for all the differences in their demeanor! Perhaps Fuflun was right? Maybe he had heard what he wanted to hear? Because he'd been so desperate to sire a colt?

  "Baby too big, mother die," Aigharn whispered. Her eyes were filled with fear.

  Kunopegos lip trembled, unable to give her the terrible news. Not yet. Not when there was still hope Lucifer could get his override through and perhaps the sheer groundswell of public sentiment would force the Emperor off of his high throne and make him help her so he could save face in light of his son's rebellion?

  "You thirteen weeks with baby." Kunopegos gathered her into his arms while she sobbed. "Doctor say he can take baby out in nine weeks, put in machine. Machine do work of Aigharn. Make baby okay. Make you okay."

  It was a lie, but it was the only hope he could give her, could give himself…

  "My people … shaman give tea … make baby go away," Aigharn whispered.

  Kunopegos stiffened.

  "Is that what you want?"

  Her dark brown eyes stared up into his light brown ones, hers so unusual, his so ordinary. She looked down and patted her swollen abdomen.

  "Doctor say baby a girl," Aigharn said. "In my tribe, shaman say girl, sometimes husband ask shaman to make baby go away. No want girl. Want boy. You want boy?"

  She did not look up at him.

  He kissed the top of her head. He might be a monster for doing this to her, but there was one reassurance he could give her that no tragic circumstance could ever make go away.

  "I want our foal no matter what her gender," Kunopegos tilted her chin up so she looked into his eyes. "And I will do whatever it takes to make sure both of you are okay. Even if I have to show up at the Emperor's door and aim the Syracusia's pulse cannons at his genetics laboratory until he makes things right."

  Aigharn smiled. She was a warrior, he had discovered. Her people rode the animal half of his species into battle and she loved nothing better than to run together in the ships communal pasture. Or at least she had until her pregnancy had made it impossible for him to ride at anything faster than a canter. She touched his cheek and wiped away a tear.

  “Aigiarn love you,” she said softly. “Love baby too. You want baby … more … any man want … baby. My people … man … only want baby … some of time. Boy, yes. Girl, no. You … want. Baby be … loved. Be … special.”

  "You have no idea how special this baby will be," Kunopegos crushed her to his chest. "Not just to me, but to my entire people." His chest shuddered with tears. "Our god is angry at us. No make babies no more! Aigharn give us babies. Make my people very happy."

  "You make me one promise, Husband?" Aigharn asked.

  “Anything.” Kunopegos twirled her straight black hair which had always fascinated him.

  “I die,” Aigiarn said. “You raise baby. No send off to … place … you say god sends … babies. Okay?”

  “You have my word,” Kunopegos promised.

  He knelt down so she could slide from the bed onto his back without needing to climb. When he'd first married her, she'd been able to leap from the ground onto his back, a feat of athleticism few species in the galaxy could match. Not anymore. It was all Aigharn could do to walk back and forth from her bed to the bathroom. He bent around to help her so she would not be jostled.

  “Would you like to go for a walk in the pasture?” he asked. "I could clear it out so we can go for a run?"

  She hadn't been up for a run lately. Or to shoot her bow and arrows at any targets. But it was the activity which had first helped them bond after the drugs had worn of and he'd had to get to know his wife.

  "Aigharn tired." Sleep a lot, make twenty-two weeks come sooner?"

  "You sleep," Kunopegos said. "Doctor Fuflun will get machine to make baby girl okay."

  He looked across the room to where Doctor Fuflun stood, staring through the glass. Thanks to the two-way intercom, he was certain the ship's doctor had heard every word they'd said. Fuflun met his eyes and nodded. Yes. He would dig up whatever research the Emperor had done on the human root stock to keep their babies alive when their species not been able to adapt to the trauma of forced relocation from their homeworld after it had been destroyed by an asteroid and taken away the solution the Emperor had used for tens of thousands of years to prevent his armies from becoming inbred.

  “Gyyyah!!!,” Aigiarn squeezed his sides with her thighs. On her homeworld, the species that made up his animal half had been domesticated by her people. Kunopegos had discovered he enjoyed being domesticated by her, his fierce race of warriors who liked to do nothing better than to run Hope seeped through his anguish as she scooted up his back and wrapped her arms and legs around the human half of his torso.

  “Why do you love an old stallion like me?” Kunopegos asked. “I don’t deserve you, you know?”

  “My people … live by horse,” Aigiarn said. “We have legend. Gods. Half man. Half horse. Like you. Kinnara. Come down from mountains. Choose my people for mates. Help my people … survive.”

  “You’ve seen my kind on your planet?” Kunopegos asked.

  “No,” Aigiarn said. “Nobody
see. Only old story. But say be like Kinnara highest honor for my people. Inseparable. Not fall off horse. Our baby. She no never fall off horse.”

  She pointed to his breast pocket, where he kept the latest ultrasound picture Doctor Fulflun had taken of their foal. She was amazed they had machines which could peek into her womb. To her, he was a god. She had every confidence when he promised Doctor Fulflun would make a machine to make their baby okay.

  He prayed he wasn't lying…

  He gave the order to clear the hallways between the sick bay and his quarters so his crew would not know his unusual behavior was related to his illegal marriage to a creature of legend and carried her at the slowest gait he could manage so he would not jostle her. Her … and their priceless foal.

  Chapter 27

  Galactic Standard Date: 152,323.09

  Bravo Sector

  Command Carrier ‘Jehoshaphat’

  Angelic Air Force General Abaddon

  (a.k.a. 'The Destroyer')

  Abaddon

  The reassuring whine of hyperdrives spooling down as the shuttlecraft exited hyperspace felt like trumpets heralding his arrival home. The Jehoshaphat appeared to be little more than a speck against an enormous green orb, a world with 17 billion people and repository of the engines of industry which powered the wealth of the Alliance. The speck grew larger, a long, sleek bullet aimed towards the Sata'an Empire even though this solar system lay millions of light years from the nearest Sata'anic planet.

  "They're hailing us, Sir," the pilot called. "What shall I tell them?"

  "Tell them The Destroyer has returned," Abaddon looked at them from his damaged eye. His pale scar caught the glow of the expanding sun and reflected into his grey eyes, giving them the appearance of steel which had been thrust into a forge. "The moment I step foot on my command carrier, there will be a briefing. And then I will retreat into my room and not be disturbed for anything short of Shay'tan himself. Is that understood?"