"Get your hands off of me!" she pushed Ilakabkubu away.
"Why don't you go searching for your husband out in the desert," Ilakabkubu sneered at her. "You and your pile of rags! It would make your mother very happy if you were eaten by the hyenas."
Shahla cradled her daughter to her breast.
"Have you seen him?" she asked.
"Mikhail?" Ilakabkubu laughed. His lips turned upwards in a cruel sneer. "It is said he has gone back to his sky canoe to prepare a honeymoon for his real wife, Ninsianna. Perhaps you might go search for him there?"
Jamin had once mentioned where the fallen sky canoe could be found a day's walk into the desert to the place a stream which dried up in the summertime tumbled down from low mountains.
"It is me he prepares a home for," Shahla clutched her baby proudly. "For me and our daughter."
She pushed past that cruel man who taunted her whenever he saw her. Whatever had possessed her to lay down with him? A man with a short dick whose breath had stank as he had pushed into her. At least Ilakabkubu had not hurt her. Jamin had pushed her face into the ground and whispered Ninsianna's name.
"Bad bad bad bad bad," Shahla muttered to her baby. "I am glad the Chief made him go away."
She made her way out the north gate and headed west, beyond the places where people grazed their goats, to follow the stream bed Jamin said led into the hills where Mikhail's sky canoe had crashed. The rains had fallen several times, just enough that a trickle of moisture crept through the jagged cut in the dry land. A few blades of grass had already started to turn green again. Soon, the desert would bloom. She bent beside the stream to drink from the tiny trickle which crept between the rocks.
"We will find your father," Shahla kissed her baby's head. "And he will carry us into the sky again to meet this Emperor who is also a god." She adjusted the swaddling cloth to bind her baby's wings so she would not fly away as Mikhail had done and leave her here alone.
The sound of pebbles tumbling down the embankment caused her to turn around. She glanced up into familiar black eyes.
Shahla screamed.
"It's okay!" Jamin held out his hand in front of him. "I promise I won't hurt you."
Shahla glanced up, confused. Whispers. So many whispers. Why was Jamin wearing clothing that looked like Mikhail's? His other hand touched his belt where he held an unearthly weapon like Mikhail liked to wield, the shorter one he called a knife, but it seemed he held the weapon because it was precious to him, the same way that Shahla clutched her baby, and not because he meant to use it on her. More whispers.
You can trust him…
She glanced around, searching for the source of the whispers, but there was nobody there. All around her she could hear the voices whisper that Mikhail had abandoned her for Ninsianna.
Just like Jamin had done…
"Get away from me!" Shahla covered her ears with both hands.
The whispers continued, whispered nasty things that Mikhail was doing to that sorceress Ninsianna, the one she could swear had gotten into her mind and tried to convince her the baby was not Mikhail's. She had felt the sorceress violate her mind the day of the tribunal. She had felt it!
"Shahla," Jamin crouched so that he squatted lower than her, his arm outstretched with his palm up. "I promise I won't hurt you. I've been looking for you. I want to make right the wrong that I did to you."
"You beat me and you hurt my baby," Shahla clutched her baby to her chest. "I won't let you hurt her again!"
Jamin raised one dark eyebrow at the bundle of rags clutched to her breast. He glanced behind him as though he was with someone, but Shahla couldn't see anyone standing there. What did he think? That she was crazy enough to think he had come with somebody else? Jamin had been banished! Everybody knew that when you were banished you went crazy and died.
He must be a hallucination sent by Ninsianna to torment her. Yes! That was it! The sorceress still tried to trick her into giving up her husband. Shahla tugged her shawl tighter and stood tall, as regal as befitted her station as the wife of a winged demigod.
"Be gone, evil spirit," Shahla pointed at him.
"I'm not evil," Jamin's dark features filled with what she might mistake for remorse. "But you are right. I did something unforgivable and for that I am sorry. But I want to make things better for you."
"How?" Shahla asked.
"The last time I saw you," Jamin spoke carefully as though he recited something from memory, "you said you wanted Mikhail to carry you up into the sky again. Remember?"
"Mikhail always carries me into the sky!" Shahla jutted her chin into the air. "He's my husband!"
Jamin snorted, as though he wanted to laugh and thought better of it. From just above the banks of the stream, out of sight where she could not see it, she could have sworn she heard a second laugh. Whispers? Why did she always think she heard voices? It must have been the wind.
"I've met a very powerful man who asked to meet you," Jamin said. "He can carry you into the sky, too."
"You lie!" Shahla hissed. "When my husband sees that you have followed me here, he will smite you for what you did to me!"
Jamin hesitated, but instead of the anger she sought to incite, for Shahla knew how to jab Jamin in all the places that would make him beat her so afterwards they could have great makeup sex, his face turned downwards in a grimace which, if she didn't know what a goat's backside he was, she might mistake for sorrow. As he moved, she noticed he favored his left shoulder, as though it had limited movement. She would hit him there!
"Be gone!" Shahla picked up a fist-sized rock from the streambed and hurled it at his shoulder.
Jamin yelped in pain. Shahla searched for her baby, but all she could find was a bundle of rags clutched to her chest.
"My baby!" she shrieked. "What have you done with her?"
"Your baby passed into the dreamtime, Shahla," Jamin said. "But I have brought a friend who can give you a new baby. He will carry you into the sky and make you his wife."
"Get away from me!" Shahla cried out. Memory of what Jamin had done to her pierced her self-delusional fog. He had… He had… He had…
"No!"
She threw the pile of rags to the ground and scrambled up the banks of the stream, looking to get away from this man who had killed her baby. As she reached to top of the hill, a shadow fell in front of her. A beautiful, white-winged Angelic fluttered to the ground, light reflecting off his snow white feathers and white-blonde hair as though he were the sun. She stood, captivated by those eerie silver eyes, so pale she could see her own image reflected in them.
"Have I gone insane?" Shahla asked.
The beautiful winged god bent to kiss her until her knees grew weak and she thought she might explode with desire. Oh! What would it would be like to feel the thickness of such a man inside of her!
"Come, my beautiful bride," the white-winged god smiled down at her. "And let me show you heaven."
Images danced into her mind. A question?
"Yes," her eyes glistened with joy. "Anything." She ran her fingers through the soft, white under feathers. Real. They were real. Even Mikhail had never let her touch his wings!
"Come, my bride," the beautiful winged man picked her up as though she was the most precious thing in the world, "and let me show you what it means to be loved by a god."
Her heart filled with joy, Shahla laughed as the white-winged Angelic carried her up into the sky.
Chapter 95
You loved the colorful 'Little Shepherd' bird
And then hit him, breaking his wing,
So now he stands in the forest crying 'My Wing'!
Epic of Gilgamesh, Tablet 6
November – 3,390 BC
Earth: Village of Assur
Angelic Air Force Colonel Mikhail Mannuki'ili
Mikhail
Taking advantage of a lazy wind current, Mikhail circled first along the river, then their gardens which had not yet been deluged by the rising river, and now th
e streets searching for his love. He spied the red cape the three Magian women had given, making her easy to spot from the air. He took it as a sign of divine favor that she happened to be traversing the exact spot where they’d said their wedding vows.
Flaring his feathers to reduce the telltale 'swooshing' noise as he shifted forward to land, he dropped down behind her, causing some of the villagers to step back. With a grin that made people's eyebrows lift in surprise almost as much as his stealthy landing, Mikhail pressed his finger to his lips, his earnest expression begging them to remain silent. Most had seen him sneak up on his wife enough times to guess his intent.
Ninsianna must have recognized everyone's eyes looked behind her. Her luxuriant, sable tresses waved in the wind like a banner as she whirled to greet him. Delight sparkled in her eyes along with surprise.
"Mikhail?"
His heart thumped an interesting little flip-flop at the sight of her healer's basket brimming with tinctures, bandages, and small linen packets filled with medicinal herbs. He flashed her one of his rare smiles, praying it would curry her favor. He knew she felt a special weakness whenever he smiled. He would deploy every weapon in his arsenal to smite whatever had caused the distance to open up between them, including, if necessary, expressing an emotion he suspected his sketchily-remembered Cherubim masters would frown upon.
“Come,” Mikhail tugged her into his arms with feigned confidence. "I have a surprise."
Positioning his knee between her legs for leverage, he stretched his wings skyward and used the sheer brute force of beating wings to defeat his old enemy gravity and propel them both airborne. The villagers laughed as gusts of wind from his beating wings knocked people's hats off of their heads and tumbled baskets. Ninsianna shrieked with laughter and terror.
“Where are we going?” she shouted above the sound of the wind racing past their ears. “Won’t Mama be worried when we don’t come home for supper?”
A warm updraft tickled his wings and whispered like a co-conspirator that it would buoy their flight and not cause him to lose altitude. He cradled her closer as he leveled off, more comfortable for him, but not for her. Ninsianna had flown with him enough times to understand she should wrap her legs around his thighs unless she wished to dangle from his arms like a prey animal.
“Mama knows we won’t be home tonight,” he pressed her body securely into his. “We will spend the night at my ship.”
"Oh?" Ninsianna's lips curved up into a pleased smile. “It’s been a long time since we visited there."
"Too long,” Mikhail took advantage of a friendly updraft to indulge a kiss. When he came up for air, he outlined the negotiations he had spent the last two days achieving. "My team leaders agreed to take up more of the routine duties and the Chief will let all of the warriors indulge in a rest day for family and prayer. Even the Emperor himself takes a day off each week."
"Did you remember more about the Eternal Emperor?" Ninsianna asked, intently curious. He knew she had caught glimpses of Hashem and Shay'tan in the dreamtime.
"No," he exhibited a guilty grin. "I remember nothing new. But it seems that's the way things should be. If my instincts are good enough when it comes to training an army, then it should be good enough to dictate how much free time I get to spend with my beautiful wife."
Ninsianna laughed as he carried her into the sunlight. Her arms tightened around his torso as she spied the wreckage of his ship. She-who-is had conspired with bushes and grasses to disguise the scar where the crash had burnt a mile-long trench into the earth and dug the ship partway into the side of a small rise.
He held her aloft as they touched down to soften their landing. Ninsianna squealed. Without letting her feet touch the ground, he carried her ‘bridal style’ through the crack in the hull where he'd already removed the boulders he'd placed there to keep curiosity seekers out. Inside, tallow lanterns borrowed from just about every household in the village lit up the interior with the gentle flickering of dozens of small lamps.
Ninsianna's face lit up with a gentle mixture of happiness and surprise.
“It’s so … romantic!”
“Wait,” his grin returned at the thought his efforts pleased her, “there is more.”
He led her towards the galley where he had lay out a meal with help from friends only too eager to conspire. Needa had prepared roasted meat in a covered crock, Yalda some bread, and Pareesa and her B-team had gathered greens for a salad. In a little urn were late autumn flowers nestled amongst fronds of wheat. Two small lanterns flickered on the table to give them light. He wouldn’t win any gourmet presentation awards, but it elicited the hoped-for response.
“Oh, Mikhail!” Ninsianna's hands clapped together with delight. “You did all of this for me?”
Bright pink lips curved up in a smile that made his knees feel as if they might give out from under him. Tempting. Oh, gods, was this woman he had married tempting! He bent down to partake of those luscious lips and declare his surrender. This was what had been missing from their marriage. All they needed was to spend more of this kind of time together and the rest would no doubt work itself out.
“What’s for supper?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he murmured, hungry for more earthy fare than food. “Meat. Bread. Greens?”
Ninsianna giggled.
“How about me for supper?”
She his manhood with the top of her thigh. Her olive complexion blushed a deeper shade of rouge at her own racy suggestion. Her chest rose and fell faster, nipples visible even through her shawl, indicative of her excitement. She wanted this as much as he did.
Heat sluiced through his abdomen and settled into his loins like a hungry animal too long denied a meal. His … mate. With an animalistic growl he scooped her up and carried her into the sleeping quarters which he'd lit up with gently flickering tallow lanterns. Ninsianna giggled at his single-minded pursuit of one objective … her. Unlike the tiny sleeping pallet in her parents' house, the bed here was roomy enough to flare his wings at least partway. He lay her down upon the bed as though presenting a sacred offering to the goddess and crawled in next to her, eager to feel her skin brush against his.
“Make love to me, Mikhail?”
"We have all night, Mo ghrá," Mikhail nuzzled her neck, inhaling the scent of soap root. The musky scent of her pregnancy made him want to hole up here until their child was born and smite anyone who came near them. "We are both so busy that we never have time to savor each other anymore. Let me worship you in my arms?"
Right now he could feel her. He wished to prolong that sensation for as long as possible.
“But I want to tease you until you beg for mercy,” Ninsianna slipped her hand beneath the waistband of his pants and caressed his manhood. “And watch the funny little expressions you make when you reach ecstasy.”
And such a funny little expression he gave her as his mouth opened in a surprised 'ah' and his voice came out as a most un-Angelic squeak at the sweet sensation her touch inspired in such an intimate place.
“If I didn’t know any better,” he growled, “I’d think you only valued me to pleasure you?”
“Ah! That, too!” Her eyes sparkled golden with mischief as her fingers clasped around his poor manhood bent uncomfortably beneath the confines of his too-tight cargo pants and gave the organ a sturdy tug. “Such a nice, strong, virile husband. Are you insinuating that you get the short end of the bargain?”
“Oh! Hey! Whoa!" Mikhail made funny little happy noises as she expertly unbuttoned his pants and slipped down the zipper to free him, no longer befuddled by the technology. “You are an insatiable little kitten!”
“This was your idea!” She tugged his pants down to his ankles, where the narrow pant legs got stuck at his combat boots. He tried to kick them off and only made things worse as his pants turned inside out, hobbling him at the ankles. Ninsianna waggled her eyebrows at him with a predatory chuckle. "I think I like this idea of yours."
“I�
�m supposed to pleasure you tonight, not the other way around.”
He fought against the uncooperative clothing which had been engineered to stand up under the worst battle conditions including, unfortunately, his wife's exquisite ministrations. Ninsianna laughed at the specter of her fierce husband being defeated by a piece of clothing. He would not admit defeat so readily! He rallied and went on the attack, unbelting her shawl and undraping it as though he unwrapped a delightful present.
Ninsianna giggled.
Who needed food when he could feast upon the visage of her curvaceous figure? He drank in the beauteous contrast of his pale hand brushing against her olive skin and way her tiny hairs responded by gracing her flesh with goose bumps. Ever since he had begotten her with child, her breasts had grown firmer like sweet, ripe melons, waiting to be eaten. His hands slid down to cradle the weight of them as he licked his lips and prepared to take a taste.
“I’m the boss tonight.” She pushed away his hands with a sweetly malicious grin that dripped of honey and the promise of pleasures to come as she unbuttoned his shirt. “Tonight, I will tell you what to do, and then you have to do it."
"Oh?" Mikhail raised one eyebrow. "So you outrank me now, Brigadier-General Ninsianna?
"Yes," Ninsianna laughed. "Whatever that means, brig-a-doo-gen-ral. I will give you orders the way that you do your men and you will obey me! Okay?"
"Yes, Ma'am," Mikhail purred beneath her salacious touch.
"Right now, it would please me if you would lay still, Colonel Mannuki'ili," Ninsianna's supple healer's hands massaged the overused muscles in his neck, his chest, and his abdomen, slipping around his manhood without touching it to finish her ministrations down his thighs and calves until his trapped ankles prevented her from moving further. "You are forbidden to touch me! No matter how much I tease you, you must not lay a hand upon me.”
Sword of the Gods: Prince of Tyre (Sword of the Gods Saga) Page 94