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

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Sword of the Gods: Prince of Tyre (Sword of the Gods Saga) Page 37

by Anna Erishkigal


  "You claim you have seen lizard demons?" Jamin sat up on his cushion to convey disbelief. "These are lies spread by the winged demon, to cower the Ubaid into submission. How do we know you are not in league with him?"

  Marwan glanced at the curtain where Aturdokht sat cloistered with the other women, his dark eyes speaking volumes. Yes. Aturdokht knew something which caused her father to distrust these men. She had, after all, lived amongst their tent-group until Yazan had sent her back to her father. Blood ties were the ties which bound the people of the desert. Without blood, they had nothing. To the Amorites, however, what bound them together was money. Not blood. Yazan had violated some ancient tenant when he had disgraced his daughter and cut off the tribe's access to the Buranunna River.

  "You are a fool!" Dirar growled. He reached for his blade.

  The kinsmen who had faded into the walls of the tent, not dining with them and so quiet as to be almost forgotten, stepped forward, their hands on the hilts of the blades they had shoved into their belts. Yazan put his hand over Dirar's, clenched on the bone handle of his weapon, and restrained it.

  "My brother feels his honor very passionately," Yazan laughed. "Our young chieftain's tribe is settled, Dirar! Do not take offense. He has not traveled the wide desert as we have and seen the wonders we have seen."

  Dirar glowered from beneath his brow ridges, his bared teeth, split nose and ferocious bushy eyebrows giving him the appearance of a snarling hyena, but he lifted his hand away from his belt without drawing the blade. Jamin could see why Aturdokht might view forced marriage to him as the lesser of two evils.

  "You are right," Jamin said. "I am settled. My people are tied to the river. So tell me. Where do these lizard demons reside?"

  "My employers would not wish for me to divulge their location to any old riffraff who wished to steal their magic," Kudursin said. "Any more than you would wish for me to tell the other tribes that it is your village that houses the winged demon, and not some other Ubaid village. Do you have any idea how many tribes send raiding parties into every Ubaid village, hoping to collect the bounty?"

  The four chief's discussion about the change in the way raids had been conducted lately suddenly made sense.

  "What do you know of the winged demon?" Jamin asked.

  Kudursin spread his hands wide in a gesture that reminded Jamin of a king cobra spreading its hood, displaying its false eyes to bewitch the observer.

  "It is said he lives in a healer's house," Kudursin gave a smile that reminded him of a flickering tongue. "And that his life was saved by an apprentice healer. That is all we know."

  Raiders. Sneaking into Ubaid villages. Targeting healers. It all made sense. Good … kill him.

  No! Ninsianna…

  "If you target his wife," Jamin growled, "not only will you earn his wrath, but that of his army."

  "Army?" Kudursin laughed. "What do you know of an army, settled prince?"

  Jamin forced himself not to lunge for the slithery cobra and adopt the stone-faced expression he had seen so many times on his father.

  "I know that the winged demon builds one within my village," Jamin's voice was filled with ice. "And that all of the Ubaid tribes move to unite beneath him."

  A flicker of something moved beneath the serpent's gaze, some disquiet, some confirmation of something he had suspected which Jamin had just confirmed. Both he and Kudursin glanced over at Marwan at the same time, that desert shaykh so intently studying his chick peas and watercress, pretending not to watch their exchange.

  "If you move against my village again," Jamin leaned forward to study the man's serpent-still eyes. "Whether I want to kill him or not, I will lead our army against you and let him crush you beneath his heel!"

  That slithering glance. So … the Amorites were afraid of Mikhail? Enough so to unite and move in to crush him?

  "Your winged demon is not the only man building an army," Kudursin's eyes were intense. "The lizard people have made my people flush with gold stealing your women. Soon, we will come for him. Whether that army comes under darkness to simply rid you of a problem, or hits you head-on, as you so aptly warn against, we shall collect our bounty."

  An uneasy silence weighed upon the room. Outside the tent, the wind had begun to howl, the tiny patter of grains of sand pelting the tent as the leading edge of the sandstorm reached the settlement the only noise.

  "I want vengeance for my son's death," Yazan finally broke the silence, uttering the first honest words which had come out of his mouth all day. "Kudursin offers me a way to get it."

  Jamin glanced at Marwan. Marwan had stopped pretending to be occupied fiddling with his food and studied him with an intent expression.

  "You are not the only man to suffer loss because of this winged demon," Jamin said. "But if you come at him wrong, you will only increase your losses again … with nothing to show for it. Dead men can't spend gold."

  "It's no longer about the gold," Yazan sighed. "He killed my son and dozens of my kinsmen. We want him dead, and your village harbors him."

  "The Amorites have more than gold," Kudursin said. "The lizard people have given us a magical weapon to smite this demon and bring them back his head."

  Kudursin lifted his robe and waited to show he wished to make no quick movement. Marwan nodded. The Amorite reached beneath his robe and slowly slid out a blade, nearly a cubit in length, and placed it upon the table.

  "The lizard people said this blade is magic to the wielder and can smite anyone," Kudursin said. "Even your winged demon."

  Jamin laughed.

  "That is a scian," Jamin said. "A knife. Nothing more! The winged demon carries one of those strapped to his hip, and two smaller ones strapped onto holsters on his calves. You have no idea what you are up against!"

  Marwan finally spoke.

  "In this we are all united, son," Marwan said. "We, my brother to the west, and our new friends, the Amorites."

  His dark eyes glittered. That second, silent mouth which said no words but betrayed his thoughts pursed its lips, that scar which caused his facial muscles to tremble when otherwise his thoughts would be unreadable.

  "The question is, son, will the Ubaid stand with the winged demon when the lizard people come to kill him if we fail? Or will they perish beneath the fire which falls from the sky? Because the answer to that question shall determine which tribe shall get my daughter."

  "She is mine by rights!!!" Dirir shouted, slamming his palm down upon the table and causing the crockery holding the potted lamb to jump.

  "Your tribe gave up those rights when you sent her back to my tents to disgrace her," Marwan leaned forward, his hand over the blade he had used to stab his dinner. "Forgive me for being less than eager to send her back again, so that the next time one of you fools gets yourself killed trying to collect the bounty you can send her back again, carrying a second child no man will want."

  The men at the back of the room stepped forward, hands on their weapons. Yazan and Dirir both reached into their belts and drew theirs. Jamin glanced at the partition which separated the men from the women and saw Aturdokht peered through the curtains, her dark eyes filled with hatred as she watched them destroy each other.

  "Aturdokht has named her bride-price," Jamin spoke loud enough for all to hear. "Whoever pays that price shall earn her hand."

  The men all froze, including Marwan, who watched him with intense interest.

  "It is so," Marwan said. "I am an indulgent father. Aturdokht said in front of my entire tribe that she will marry whichever man brings her the winged demon's heart, and I, her father, accepted that offer, wishing only for her happiness. To go back on my word in front of my kin, which carries the word of law, would be to disgrace myself, and to disgrace her. You would not want a woman, Dirar, who came to you from a disgraced tribe. Would you?"

  "What does that matter," Kudursin said. "The promise of a woman?"

  "It is our law," Marwan said. "Isn't that so, Yazan? A widow has the right to avenge
her husband's death by demanding an eye for an eye, and Aturdokht has issued that challenge. Are you so taken by the Amorite's gold that you have forgotten what it means to belong to the people of the desert?"

  "It is so," Yazan said. He fingered his knife, and then tucked it back into his belt.

  "I do not care!" Dirar snarled.

  "You do not want her," Yazan said. "Only to renew the blood ties which will open the lands that stand between our tent-group and the Ubaid. I will not dishonor the memory of my son a second time by dishonoring the woman he loved. You shall pay her bride-price, or you cannot have her."

  Dirar stood and pointed at Jamin, his face twisted with hatred, made all the more sinister by the cut which had cleaved his nose. "I will have that bounty, one way or another."

  Jamin exhaled a long, silent sigh as the desert hyena stormed out of the tent, sand from the howling wind blowing in as he opened the door and causing them all to cough. Marwen's men stepped aside to let him pass and, with a nod from their shaykh, moved back into their unobtrusive positions around the tent.

  "And what of your promise to lead me to this winged demon, Yazan, to collect his head?" the Amorite, Kudursin, said at last to break the silence.

  "You shall collect your bounty," Yazan said. "One way or another. Our way is simply quieter, to slip in during the night, take what we want, and leave. If we do it your way, more of my men will die."

  "What does it matter to you," Kudursin asked, his eyes as baleful as a snake. "If Dirar's fools of men wish to expend their lives against the winged demon's army?"

  "Because my son was just one of those fools!" Yazan said. "And I listened to you when I punished his wife for his failure, when she warned him not to join your ranks and reminded me of such after he was killed, instead of cutting out your heart instead!"

  Marwan looked pleased, both the mouth that spoke, and the horizontal scar that resembled a second mouth smiling as he gave a wide grin and exposed his rotted teeth. His eyes, however, had the look about them of a hungry lion.

  "Thank you, Yazan, for coming and introducing us to your new friend," Marwan said. "It grows late. Perhaps it is time for you to begin your journey home?"

  "But what about the sandstorm?" Kudursin glanced up at the tent which rattled mightily in the desert wind. "How shall we find our way?"

  The people of the desert were used to such storms, but the people who lived west of the Buranunna River were unaccustomed to the desert's naked fury.

  "This sandstorm shall be the least of your worries if we overstay our welcome," Yazan said. He rose and touched his hand to his forehead. "Goodbye, my brother-in-kin. Tell your daughter I am sorry for my disgraceful actions, and that should she choose not to marry this settled chieftain but wish to return to my tents, her place shall be reinstated and our treaty restored."

  With a farewell from Marwan, the Halifian chieftain was gone, out into the raging storm. Jamin stared across the table at his enemy. Friend? Something in between. The Halifians only honored treaties made in blood.

  And friendship…

  Which was he now?

  "Will you take him up on his offer?" Jamin asked. "It would be the simplest path to restore your water rights."

  "You named a bride-price and I accepted it," Marwan said. "That is our law. Until you either pay the price, or my daughter declares you have failed, Aturdokht shall stay in my tents."

  A gust of wind rattled the tent. Silt-fine sand filtered in, causing grit to stick to Jamin's sweat.

  "Then I should go," Jamin said. "Before the storm grows too thick for me to see. But before I do, I would speak to my intended."

  "Nusrat shall sit as escort," Marwan pointed to one of his sons, a man with similar hazel-brown eyes, only with fewer flecks of green. Aturdokht's full-brother?

  The man shadowed him to sit at the curtain. Aturdokht glided out, her demeanor watchful. Hatred still burned in those green-flecked eyes, but perhaps a little less so than before. She sat, her eyes cast downward as she stared at her hands.

  Her red-raw wrists stared out at him like an accusation, another offense she would always attribute to him. He'd come here to break off their betrothal, but realized now the only thing standing between Assur and the army of mercenaries the Amorites were building paid for with lizard gold was this loosely-knit group of semi-rival tribes, related by blood and subject to fracture at the slightest offense. To spurn her would be a mistake, especially since, truth be told, he desired her over Shahla. Oh, gods! Anyone but Shahla!

  They sat in silence. Aturdokht fiddled with the sleeve of her robe. At last she spoke.

  "They say you do all of this because the winged demon took your woman?"

  "Yes," Jamin said. "But it was more than that. I made her a promise I could not keep."

  Aturdokht looked up. Her eyes narrowed.

  "And then my father tried to force a marriage," Jamin said, "because marrying her would be advantageous to my tribe."

  The hatred returned, along with another emotion. Pity? Or worry that he would not meet her bride price and give her revenge?

  "It was a mistake," Jamin said. "First to break my promise, and then to try to force a marriage. Had I not done so, she would not have fled into the desert the day the winged demon fell from the sky and cast a spell upon her."

  "You love her still?" Aturdokht's pupils widened, black against the green flecks.

  Jamin met those emerald green-flecked eyes.

  "Yes."

  Aturdokht resumed fiddling with her sleeve, her fingers brushing against the scarred wrists which bore the scabs of her father's discipline.

  "Roshan loved me like that." A tear slid out of those hazel eyes and down her cheek, dropping onto her wrist.

  "I am sorry for your loss."

  Aturdokht looked over at her brother, who sat pretending not to listen, but hearing every word.

  "If you kill your demon, will you take her to be your wife?" she asked softly.

  "Yes," Jamin said.

  She sat straight, her eyes filled with hatred once more, but also there was another emotion. Hurt? Fear? Perhaps a little of both. She was in a tenuous position, a woman without a husband, and a female babe no one wanted still nursing at her breast.

  "I told you the day I named my bride-gift that I was not free to marry you," Jamin said. "She will always have first place in my heart. Just as I understand your husband would always have a first-place in your heart."

  Those eyes did not look up to meet his. A strange emptiness spread in his chest. He very much wished she would look up and meet his gaze. A whisper shrieked in his psyche. Deceiver! He was not in love with this woman, but Ninsianna. A feeling akin to rotted meat settled in his gut. He should not lead this woman on. That is how he had ended up in his predicament with Shahla.

  "I shall bring your bride-price," Jamin said. "Because you and I are alike. Only the winged demon's heart can ease our pain. But then I will leave it up to you to decide whether you wish to marry me, knowing you can never be more than a second-wife, or return to Yazan's tents and select a husband of your choosing. Either way, I will prevail upon my father to grant water rights to herd your flocks to the Hiddekel when the streams run dry, because I have learned the hard way to never break a promise to a woman."

  The wind battered the tent with howling fury, reminding him he'd better get back to the cave or he would end up spending the night here. Many of the men, including Aturdokht's brother, wanted to bury a knife in his gut. Better not tempt their father's control.

  Aturdokht's eyes were filled with resentment, flaring like a beating heart, but the beats grew further and further apart as her hatred of him waned.

  "I told Roshan not to follow his father into your village," Aturdokht said. "Nusrat traveled to our tents and told me what they found when our brother Khuzayma was killed. Eighteen men, all smote by a single man. Roshan was a much better man than Dirar, but he was still tempted by the Amorite's gold."

  "I will not smite him for gold," Jami
n said. "Or your hand."

  "I know," Aturdokht said. The hatred which ebbed and flowed flared up again, the green flecks giving her eyes an almost iridescent emerald color, as though they were solid green. "You wish to carve out his heart because he carved out yours."

  "Yes."

  The hatred he had carried ever since Ninsianna had broken off their betrothal flared in his eyes and turned them black, showing her his hatred matched even hers, twin dark flames that would blacken the sky if their hunger for revenge was not satiated.

  "That, I trust," Aturdokht took his measure. "More so than any contract made with blood or gold."

  With a nod to her brother, she signaled this conversation was at an end and rose to her feet, slipping behind the curtain which was her prison. Nusrat gestured towards the entrance to the tent, where the storm howled outside. Until he delivered what he had promised to them, he was not welcome here.

  Wrapping his shawl around his nose and face, Jamin wandered out into the desert. The wind whipped sand into his face, so thick he could barely see through it. To the west, the sky had turned black. The real storm. It was headed straight for Assur.

  Chapter 35

  "As-salatu khairum minannaum"

  [Prayer is better than sleep]

  October 3,390 BC

  Earth: Village of Assur

  Ninsianna

  The whisper of the goddess kissed her soul. Ninsianna reached up into the light, yearning for that which had been whispered to her from the day of her birth. No. Even before she had been born, this gift had been promised to her, favorite daughter of She-who-is. The promise that her time here would be short. She had a task to do, and when she was finished, she could return to the light from whence she'd come.

  "Mother," Ninsianna called into the night. "Take me home." She pushed against the warm torso who held her captive, seeking to slip his grasp.

  Light bathed her in a gentle golden glow, kissing her hair and carrying her along in the thoughts of She-who-is. Galaxies sang to herald her arrival home. She touched the stars and they danced beneath her fingertips like little dogs, eager to play with her. She tried to join them, but a tether which erupted out of her naval like an umbilical cord kept her tied to her earthly body. Accursed chain! Why was she tethered so?

 

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