The arrow was strung before she even broke over the rise. She knew... She knew their plan.
Chapter 100
November – 3,390 BC
Earth: Mesopotamian Plain
Angelic Air Force Colonel Mikhail Mannuki'ili
Mikhail
Mikhail’s wings pounded in tempo with the frantic beating of his heart. Never had he flown so fast, pushed himself so hard to follow something that was little more than a feeling. He should have never left her! He should have remained in the village! This direction wasn't even close to Assur. Why hadn't her father recognized she'd been taken?
In the distance he could see camp fires burning in the desert. The closer he approached, the more he could see dozens of fires lit to meet together in a war party. His panic only increased as sensed his wife's terror as though it was his own.
Oh! Goddess! Please! Why had the goddess never granted him that sense of knowing that Ninsianna seemed to share with her father? And why on earth hadn't he taken her admonitions that she should learn that gift more seriously and tried harder!
Not even the smoke of several bonfires could mask the new scent which permeated the Halifian encampment as he flew close to it. It was a scent he would never forget, even had he not remembered it. Not just Halifian, but Sata’an? The lizard people were here!
As he flew close he counted seventy or eighty Halifian warriors, along with a handful of Sata’an lizard soldiers waiting for him armed with spears and arrows. He knew the Sata’an lizards would have pulse weapons, but for some reason they did not use them. Was it because they were not expecting him to react so soon?
No! The lizard people knew what his people were capable of!
But they didn't know what she was capable of! His wife! His beautiful wife who could make her panic known telepathically! He had felt her! It just wasn't the clear message that she could communicate with her father.
He sped closer, yanking his spear out of its scabbard. He'd left his pulse rifle home with her, a weapon of last resort for her to use to defend herself in case she needed protection. She'd laughed at him when he'd tried to explain to her how to use it. Why, oh why, hadn't she taken his lessons seriously?
He spotted her from the air. Ninsianna crouched by the fire, her long, raven-black hair glistening in the light of the campfire against her red cloak. She crouched in terror between the five Sata’an lizard soldiers. She had never seen such creatures before except for in her nightmares. Oh, gods! She must be terrified.
It was the lizards who spotted him first, having been trained to look up. They shouted warning to the Halifians to scramble for their weapons and pulled their own pulse rifles, ready to defend against him.
Ninsianna screamed.
Sword drawn, Mikhail swooped down to protect the love of his life.
He landed beside her and yanked her into his arms to carry her to safety. He felt, rather than saw, the steel blade she shoved into his chest, the blade piercing easily the old wound where only shattered bone protected his heart.
Pain exploded into his chest.
He looked down. There was a knife? Sticking out of his chest?
Disbelief said he must be dreaming. His heart pounded in his ears.
“Ninsianna?”
Confusion mixed with disbelief. Ninsianna had just hurt him? Why had Ninsianna hurt him? He'd only been trying to save her.
The bitter taste of blood filled his mouth as blood exhaled from his punctured lung. The world began to spin. Mikhail looked into his wife's eyes and saw, not Ninsianna, but the crazed eyes of a madwoman wearing Ninsianna’s red cloak. Shahla? Shahla, who both loved and hated him, had just stabbed him in the heart?
His wings dropped.
He teetered, unable to keep his balance.
His heart pounded in his ears, so very far away.
His vision narrowed until the only thing he could see was Shahla's dark eyes staring into his, as though she was confused.
"Mikhail?" Shahla said.
She stiffened in his arms, her mouth opening, but no further sound came out.
The last thing he heard before the world turned black was the faint whistle of a second arrow cutting through the air.
Epilogue
Galactic Standard Date: 152,098.12
Haven-1
Young Lucifer – Age 15
225 Years Ago…
Young Lucifer
“He’s a good man, Lucifer,” Mama tried to reassure me. “You’ll see. You’ll like the home he set up for us.” She patted my cheek the way she'd done when I was a little baby and had fallen down and skinned my knee.
“I don’t want to go!” I pouted. “Shemijaza is not my father! Father is!”
“The Emperor will always be special,” Mama's face had that expression she always wore when she'd already made up her mind. “But he is not your -real- father. Your real father has set up a special home, just for you. Why, he even has his own genetics laboratory!”
“I won’t go!” I crossed my arms and pushed away her hand. “And you can’t make me! Father won’t let me go and, even if he did, I'd ask Parliament to pass a law making it illegal!”
"The Emperor and his silly ideas," Mama sighed. "Someday, when you're old enough, if running the Third Empire doesn't keep you too busy, maybe you can help our two empires merge back into a single one? The way they were before your father and the Emperor stopped speaking to one another?"
"I have a job to do!" I said. "I'm the Prime Minister now!"
"You are a fifteen year old boy," Mama shook her finger in my face. "Nothing more. You are too young to run an empire!"
"I've been beating Emperor Shay'tan for ten years," I smart-mouthed her. "And -winning-, in case you have forgotten!"
Mama's eyes turned a dark blue color I had only ever seen them turn when she was really, really angry.
"The Emperor saw he was losing and cooked up this crazy scheme to outwit your father!" Mama scolded. "Well it won't work! I will turn you over to Emperor Shay'tan rather than let you do all the hard work of running Hashem's empire and getting none of the glory! You're a real prince. Not some puppet prince the Emperor can dangle in front of his citizens and tell them they have free will!"
"That's treason talk!" I retorted. My wings flared like a raptor, ready to fly at anybody who blasphemed Father's name!
Mama fluttered her wings in an exasperated sigh.
"Oh, Lucifer!" Mama said. "I’ve already discussed it with the Emperor. He's not happy about it, but your -real- father promised to let you come visit the Emperor ten weeks each year, during summer break."
"Why can't I visit him more often?"
"You’re going to be attending a –real- school," Mama said. "With other hybrids and naturally evolved species your age. So you can make some friends. It's not right, how I've let him keep you cooped up in this mausoleum all these years with nobody to talk to but Dephar and a couple of Cherubim guards!”
“They’ll be boring!” I cried. “I’ve been smarter than you and Dephar for years. Father is the only one who doesn’t bore me!”
Mama gave me one of those smiles parents give you when they know something and -you- don't.
“Your -real- father is just as smart as you are,” Mama said. “And tall. Just like you." She fiddled with my hair, licking her finger and pressing back my cowlick. "You inherited your white-blonde hair and snowy white wings from him, you know? Along with your beautiful silver eyes.”
“I am -not- like him!” I said. "He's … UGLY!"
"He's a decorated war hero," Mama's expression grew soft and misty. "Once you get to know him, you'll want to be just like him."
“I want to be like Father!”
“Please, Lucifer,” Mama turned and packed away the last of my belongings into the boxes that would be shipped to our new home in the Third Empire. “For the first time in fifteen years, I am happy. Couldn’t you -please- try to be happy, too? For me?”
Happy? I'd tried logic, threats, and now tem
per tantrums, but nothing deterred her. Not even my gift!
Mama had come home from her rendezvous with Sh-sh-sh…
Bah!
I didn't even want to say his name!
She'd come home from her rendevous with her HUSBAND (yuck!) six days ago, so absent-minded she kept fluttering around the palace instead of -walking- like an Angelic was supposed to do when inside the Eternal Palace! Poor Father was heartbroken, moping around the palace as though Mama had just torn out his heart, while Mama was -oblivious- to how badly she had hurt him!
I'd pleaded with Father to not let me go, but Father, it turned out, could be bribed. Overnight all hostilities between the two Empires had ceased. All prisoners who'd been captured over the years in the two empire's wars had been set free and returned. And just this morning, six treasure-ships Shemijaza had promised as tribute filled with a precious mineral Father needed to make some kind of weapon had arrived, a good-faith demonstration that, if Shemijaza reneged on his promise to let me visit, Father would have the materials he needed to build a hundred planet-killers and blow up every single one of Shemijaza's planets.
When I'd thrown myself at Father's feet, pleading with him to intervene and put a stop to this, Father looked sad and said it was Mama's choice. She was, after all, my mother, and Shemijaza my biological father unless he legally abandoned me. Under Alliance law, the only way Father could adopt me is if both parents were dead. Father promised if that ever happened, he would adopt me immediately. He already had the paperwork all drawn up. Until then, Shemijaza had first claim on me.
Blah! Blah! Blah! All that bluster about not letting some monster take away his son, and then when push had come to shove, Father didn’t have any teeth!
“Come, Lucifer,” Mama coaxed. “We’re late for that diplomatic meeting with the representative from B-Canum Venaticorum-3. It’s a brand new colony in the neutral zone and they’re seeking protection from the Sata’an Empire. It’s exactly the kind of diplomatic experience you’ll need no matter -whose- government you someday run, whether the Emperor’s or your fathers.”
"That's the Prime Minister's job," I reminded her.
"And until we leave Alliance airspace," Mama touched my cheek, "you, my prince, are the Prime Minister."
"And what about -after- I leave Alliance airspace," I asked. "What happens to the promises I make then?"
"Your word will have the force of law in -two- empires," Mama smiled. "It is part of the agreement the Emperor and your Father reached. Here, you are Prime Minister. There, you are a prince. Either way, you will carry out similar duties, subject to the approval of both emperors."
Old Dephar introduced me to the B-Canum Venaticorum-3 delegates as Prime Minister Lucifer. They bowed, but at first they were skeptical and kept looking to Father for guidance. Unfortunately, Father was so depressed he barely paid attention. Mama, on the other hand, practically floated above the floor without even stretching her wings.
-This- was how Father had lost so many planets to the silver-eyed man!!! Damantia! I could see by the way the delegates kept looking at their watch that they would walk right out this door and do just that … go to Shemijaza, whose Third Empire was close enough to be annexed, for a better deal.
If I was to be Prime Minister, then this was as good a treaty as any to be my first one to negotiate. I stepped in.
"Gentlemen," I flared my wings the way that General Abaddon did to look older, "I realize I may be young,but I have discussed the problem of how to protect your planets against Shay'tan with General Abaddon and this is what he has suggested."
The two delegates immediately began to pay attention. Actually … it had been the other way around. During our daily target practice, Abaddon had picked -my- brains, surprised to learn it had been -me- who'd come up with ideas for some of the stunts Father had asked him to pull the past few years that had resulted in stunning victories against the Sata'an Empire. General Abaddon had filled me in on information Father had never deemed all that important, but Abaddon did. It gave me a more complete picture of the challenges facing our new friends, especially this new kingdom they were all terrified of called the Tokoloshe Kingdom.
I quickly forgot about how upset I was as the delegates realized I knew what I was talking about -and- had the authority to negotiate these kinds of things with them … for real … not just a puppet prince.
I vigorously negotiated a reasonable trade, raw materials the Alliance needed in exchange for protection from Shay’tan. I kept hoping Father would notice what a good job I'd done and decide he didn't want to send me away after all, but he barely paid attention, grunting his assent as though he didn't care. Mama was so happy she wouldn't have noticed if I'd given leave to go cut down the Eternal Tree.
We called in the scribes. I dictated the terms of the treaty, careful they memorialized everything we'd agreed to, even the little things Father often left to a handshake. If this would have the force of law in two empires, I wanted to be sure everything we agreed to -here- had the force of law -there- as well.
Just for spite, I included a few items that were fortuitous to the B-Canum Venaticorum-3 solar system and Father, but burdensome to Shemijaza. Not a lot. Just enough to irritate the accursed man…
A sensation akin to something going 'pop' inside my chest made me gasp for breath. I clutched that place where Mama had healed the bullet-wound in my heart, gasping at the sudden absence of that strange hum which had taken up residence there the day the silver-eyed man had helped my Mama heal me.
Mama shrieked as though -she- had been shot.
“Shemijaza!!!”
Mama clutched her heart and wailed a long keening wail that reverberated through my entire body.
"Mama?" My heart raced, terrified. If felt as if a part of me were suddenly … missing?
Mama fell to the floor, her eyes out of focus as she gasped for breath.
Father leaped off his throne and kneeled next to Mama writhing on the floor. “Asherah?”
The treaty I’d been negotiating was instantly forgotten.
Mama's mouth opened and shut, her eyes glazed over with pain.
“Your father has just been killed,” Mama panted as though she could not breathe. Her body jerked as though she were in enormous pain. “Lucifer! It is too late. I cannot heal him. His body has been destroyed.”
Father's eyes turned white with panic.
“Asherah! Don’t do this! You don’t have to do this. You are half shipboard Angelic! You can survive!”
Mama looked past us as though we weren’t even there.
“They’re all dead,” Mama cried out. “-You- killed them.”
“No,” Father said. “I did not give the order. I thought about it. But I did not give the order!”
“It was a planet-killer," Mama whispered. Her eyes grew distant, as though she were speaking to people who were standing behind us. Not me or father. "Millions of innocent people. Vaporized. They’re all dead.”
“Please, Asherah,” Father pleaded. “It wasn’t me! I did not do this! I swear!"
“Alliance ships jumped out of hyperspace," tears welled in Mama's eyes. "It was Alliance ships. They said it was Alliance ships.”
"I love you, Asherah!" Father grabbed her hand. "I love you, so I agreed to let you go!” Father looked around the room and realized he had an audience. The air began to charge with electricity, Father's gift, only he had no place to direct it to. “EVERYBODY OUT!!! NOW!!!”
The Cherubim guard stomp-stomped out in unison in their terrifying armor. The room instantly cleared. Don't do what? What was happening? Mama didn’t have to do what? All I know was Father looked really scared.
“Call Dephar!” Father shouted to Master Yoritomo, who was the only one left in the room. “Now! Tell him to bring the elixir!”
“Mama?” I began to weep. “Mama? What is wrong?”
Mama didn’t have a scratch on her, but she acted the same way that –I- had acted the day I’d been shot in the heart. And I co
uld -feel- it! Or at least the echo of it. My heart pounded so fast that it felt like I would faint.
So the silver-eyed man had just been killed? Good riddance!
Wait? What was wrong with Mama? And why was Father so scared? Something else must be happening. Something bad. Was Mama going to be okay?
“Mama?”
Servants rushed in.
"Bring her to the antechamber!" Father shouted.
The servants picked her up and carried her into the little office that was adjacent to the throne room, laying her to rest upon a settee. Mama’s arm fell limply off to the side as though she no longer cared whether it was attached to her body or not.
"Don't go, Asherah!" Father held her other hand, blocking my view. "Please Asherah! I can fix this! Don't go!"
Don't go where? What was happening? Why was everybody so scared?
Dephar burst through the door.
“I’ve got it!” Dephar said. “Here.”
Dephare shot me a look of pure hatred as he handed Papa an elixir. Me? Why did Dephar hate me?
“Asherah,” Father pleaded. “You don’t have to do this. Look! I’ve synthesized the elixir of She-who-is. You don’t –have- to die. You can be like me! Please. Stay with me.”
He tried to get her to drink whatever it was he had in the flask, but she refused.
“You killed my mate,” Mama hissed at him. “And so you have killed me! When I took him as my husband, I vowed to never be parted from him. Not even in death. -You- have kept us apart all these years. I go now to be with him!”
As Mama spoke, I honed my ‘gift’ to see the images beneath her words and caught an explicit image of his mother doing … yuck! They had … oh! Double yuck!!! They really -had- reconciled!
I remembered eavesdropping on Father's conversation with Master Yoritomo. Father had ordered them to put spies on the Prince of Tyre to figure out how to hit Shemijaza and be rid of him once and for all. I looked at Father with horror. Had Father killed my biological father, knowing full well Mama might will herself to die?
Sword of the Gods: Prince of Tyre (Sword of the Gods Saga) Page 98