Sword of the Gods: The Chosen One (Sword of the Gods Saga)

by Anna Erishkigal

  He turned, his victory cry dying on his lips as a sorrow only he could fathom clouded Gita's jet-black eyes. Yes. They had always had an understanding. He'd taken Gita under his protective wing because only she understood what it was like to watch your mother die.

  “Ninsianna is not worthy of your love." Gita's black eyes swirled with a sorrow so profound even he couldn't fully grasp its depths. “You've got to let it go or it will destroy you.”

  Jamin's voice lilted upwards, half a shout, and half a little boy's cry of anguish.

  “He took her from me!" He grabbed another spear from the pile, his fists clenched around the shaft so tight it felt as though his knuckles might break.

  “She's not worthy of -his- love, either." Gita's black eyes looked straight through him as though he wasn't even there. “Just you wait and see…”

  A shudder went down Jamin’s spine. Prophecy. It was said her mother's people had possessed the gift of prophecy. His mother's people, if the whispers he'd overheard the night Merariy had reappeared in their village were true. His father had been in a fog of grief, having just lost his mother and baby sister in childbirth. It had been Immanu who had made the decision to welcome his estranged brother … and his traumatized five-year-old daughter … back into the tribe. Not the Chief. He didn't know why, but there was bad blood between the factions.

  He looked away, unable to meet her gaze as Gita took the measure of his soul and found him wanting. He looked back and was not surprised to find she'd disappeared back into the lengthening shadows. Picking up another spear, Jamin hurled it with all of his might at the feathery target…

  Chapter 69

  Galactic Standard Date: 152,323.07 AE

  Ascended Realms

  Emperor Shay’tan

  Shay’tan

  “You look pleased with yourself today,” Shay’tan said.

  Hashem drummed his fingers on the three-dimensional chessboard that was also a model of the galaxy, smirking at the sight of his white knight sitting amongst the black pawns in Zulu sector.

  “Oh … it’s nothing,” Hashem said evasively.

  Shay’tan pondered his next move. Aha! Hashem was so focused on the outer reaches of the galaxy that he'd left his center exposed. He chuckled at his own genius.

  “Check,” Shay’tan said.

  Chapter 70

  Galactic Standard Date: 152,323.07 AE

  Alpha Sector: Command Carrier ‘Eternal Light’

  Supreme Commander-General Jophiel

  Jophiel

  “Sir, there is an alpha-priority-one message from Haven-4,” Lieutenant Klik'rr said.

  Jophiel glanced up from the endless stream of reports that buried her desk, news of the latest Sata'an incursion into Romeo sector taking a back burner as the hair stood up on the back of her neck. There was only one thing that mattered on that planet. Whatever she'd been doing was immediately forgotten.

  “What's wrong?”

  “Sir … it's your son,” Klik'rr's green antennae twitched in concern as he handed his commanding officer the message. “He is very sick." The nervous twitch of his mandibles communicated what the cold, mechanical vocal range booster couldn't convey. “They request you come right away.”

  “What's wrong with him?" She instinctively reached for the small wallet of photographs of all her offspring that she kept hidden in the breast-pocket of her uniform shirt. Klik'rr’s words sounded far away.

  “It’s the wasting sickness, Sir,” Klik'rr's prayer-like grasping front legs wrung his pinchers, his body language conveying the emotion that the voice enhancement box couldn't adequately express. “He's not expected to make it, Sir. Is there anything I can do for you?”

  “Recall Colonel Israfa from Zulu Sector right away,” she stood, not really hearing the words. “Just him, not his command carrier. Tell him to take a needle and meet me at Haven-4 … stat.”

  The room began to fade from view. Her heart pounded in her ears. She swooned, grabbing her desk to help her stand. Klik'rr grabbed her arm and guided her towards the door where two more airmen stood, waiting to guide her down to her shuttle. As usual, Klik'rr had anticipated her every need.

  “I took the liberty of informing the ATO you would be flying out of here right away, Sir. Your transport shuttle leaves in twenty minutes.”

  “Yes, of course,” she mumbled.

  The hallways she walked through, the people she passed, was all a blur as guilt tore at her mind. She'd abandoned him. In her heart, she'd known he needed to stay close to her and she'd cast him aside to pursue her career. She didn't notice Lieutenant Klik'rr guided her into the waiting shuttle or buckled her in. The crew watched her go in silence, word already racing through the ship that their Supreme Commander-General’s infant son was not expected to survive the night. Although they prayed to different minor deities from each of their homeworlds, a unified prayer went out to spare the life of one, tiny baby.

  “Get Raphael on the Light Emerging on the horn,” Lieutenant Klik'rr ordered the moment her shuttle lifted off. “I need to convey the sad news that his son is dying.”

  Chapter 71

  July – 3,390 BC

  Earth: Village of Assur

  Colonel Mikhail Mannuki’ili

  Mikhail

  “Mikhail,” Pareesa said. “Oh Mikhail!" Pareesa reached out with the end of her bow and jabbed him in the wing. As the troop's youngest and most fearless member, she often ribbed her reticent mentor in a way the others did not dare.

  “I'm sorry,” he apologized. “I was … thinking."

  He looked longingly at the lovely visage which distracted him. Ninsianna testing her bow, her arm lining up in perfect symmetry with her luscious breasts.

  “Yeah,” his impish young student joked. “I know exactly what you were thinking of!" Pareesa pointed to where Ninsianna prepared to crawl into the reeds. “You drifted off mid-sentence.”

  The other students giggled at his absent-mindedness. All knew the source of his distraction and good-naturedly teased him whenever his mind began to wander. Ever since Immanu had given them permission to marry, he'd been having a hard time keeping his baser impulses under control. Ninsianna was worth the wait, so wait he did even though it was driving him to distraction. Mikhail forced his thoughts back down onto the planet.

  “Today we shall hunt ducks." He motioned for his archers to follow him to a lazy, marshy portion of the river that made a natural pond. With rains scarce this time of year, most inland pools of water had started to dry up. Waterfowl migrated to the more reliable Hiddekel River as soon as their young were capable of flying.

  Twelve more archers had joined their troop from allied villages, studied the basics of mastering the new weapon for two weeks, and then gone home. Their villages had been the victims of raids and Nineveh had suffered a second attack. The allied archers were determined to master the new technology and go home to teach every able-bodied male … and female … unlike Assur, where archery training was voluntary and still being undermined by Jamin.

  “Mikhail,” Yadidatum asked. “Doesn't it bother you to shoot birds?”

  “Why would it?”

  “I mean … you … well…" Yadidatum pointed at his wings. "You're part bird.”

  Mikhail paused, pondering her question. It had never occurred to him that he might share DNA with the avian population. This planet had species he'd never seen before, if his faulty memory could be relied upon, such as the gigantic mated pair of golden eagles which circled the Hiddekel River with their powerful, Angelic-like wings.

  “I'm not sure what I'm descended from,” he said. “But I don't think I'm part duck. People hunted similar waterfowl back in … back … where I'm from. Water fowl are common throughout the galaxy, I suspect.”

  “Quack, quack,” Pareesa flapped her arms like a duck.

  “And I definitely don't quack,” he gave Pareesa a mock serious stare.

  The others giggled, causing his mouth to twitch up in the smile he failed to suppre
ss. Like the fairies she was named after, Pareesa inspired the others towards mischief, her youthful energy turning what might have been dreadfully boring training exercises into camaraderie. She was also an exceptionally talented archer.

  “Shhhh,” Behnam signaled as they got close to the cove. “We'll crawl the last few feet.”

  “Ready your bows,” Mikhail whispered.

  This was Behnam’s first hunt using the bow, but the old man had been setting snares for decades. Mikhail followed his lead. Once the first shot was fired, the waterfowl would take to the air, giving them seconds before the birds were out of range.

  “Remember,” Alalah said. “We have a point to prove. We have to show our families that our newfound skills provide value.”

  “Then maybe my mother-in-law will stop grumbling about babysitting while I come to lessons,” Orkedeh said. “My husband doesn't understand why I want to spend hours on end shooting little sticks at targets.”

  “You only come because it's an excuse to get away from your eight kids,” Alalah said. “It's mommy sanity time.”

  Alalah, Orkedeh and Kiana all chuckled.

  “They just don't understand because Assur has not suffered a raid yet,” Kiana said. “They'll feel differently once we are attacked. As soon as my kids get big enough, I'll to teach them all to shoot. My two oldest girls are almost strong enough to draw a bow."

  “Maybe Mikhail could teach us to make smaller bows?” Pareesa said. “One a child of seven could draw? My little brother wants to shoot squirrels and help my parents get more meat.”

  “We can do that,” Mikhail said. "It would please me if you teach others to defend themselves."

  He didn't add that he was disappointed at the low turnout and the Chief’s lack of enforcement. The Emperor indoctrinated his species into military training academies as babies…

  Memory. He grabbed at the elusive fragment, but it escaped as fleetingly as it had come. Damantia! Something about the Emperor starting training young.

  “If you bring home fresh duck,” Alalah whispered, “your families will stop complaining and tell you to practice more. There's nothing like fresh roast duck to convince someone of the value of an investment in time.”

  The archers strung their bows. After Ninsianna had complained about the string burning her aiming arm, he'd fashioned wrist and finger-gauntlets out of scraped goat hide. He suspected it was not a new invention, simply one he'd forgotten he remembered. The other archers had copied the idea, making gauntlets of their own.

  “Not yet..." He waited for Yadidatum to get her arrow hooked into the string.

  The ducks quacked nervously at the humans creeping through the underbrush, but were not worried enough to take flight. Few predators could follow them into the water fast enough to catch them. That was about to change.

  “Now!" He took his first shot at a plump male that was beating up on a smaller female. He immediately reached into his quiver for the next arrow.

  Ten more arrows whistled through the air as his students let fly their first shot, including his. They reloaded as panicked waterfowl took to the air. Reaching for a third arrow, he glanced over to see Ninsianna wearing the same intense look of determination she'd worn the day she'd thrown her spear into the competition bullseye.

  As soon as the third arrow was out of his quiver, he reached for a fourth, but the ducks were out of range. He'd shot three, more than enough for his family to feast tonight. Dead and dying ducks littered the water, enough to prove the worth of archery practice to their begrudging families.

  “Okay everybody, that's enough!” Arrows required a substantial investment of time to make. There was no point in wasting arrows on long shots when so many fat ducks had already been harvested. “Now we get to wade in and retrieve them.”

  Everybody stripped down to their loincloths and waded into the river, swimming to retrieve their supper before the current carried it downstream. If that happened, not only would they lose their ducks, but their arrows as well. Some arrows had been lost, of course. Not every shot was a kill, especially with archers as newly trained as these. But overall it had been a fruitful hunt. Mikhail averted his eyes as his largely female troop bounded out of the water, ducks in both hands.

  “I got one!" Yadidatum retrieved her arrow from one of the ducks. Mikhail had made them mark their arrows in a unique pattern so they would always know whose arrow belonged to whom.

  “I got three." Behnam held three ducks by the feet. “And I didn't lose any arrows.”

  “I got four,” Alalah announced.

  “Hey … so many … you should share!” Gisou said. “I only got one.”

  “I have six kids to feed, plus my husband and mother-in-law,” Alalah said. “Why do you think I practice so much?”

  “That's one more than Mikhail,” Homa said. “I only got one duck, and I have four brothers and sisters, my parents, and my grandmother.”

  “Mikhail only took three shots,” Ninsianna said, “and got three ducks. You took four shots and lost three arrows, Homa.”

  “You should practice more,” Alalah said. “Then your parents won’t nag you so much about cleaning the house.”

  “Why do you think I'm always here?” Homa laughed. “If they can’t see me, they can't order me to clean up after my sloppy older brothers!”

  “I got two,” Ninsianna said. “Papa got two. And Mikhail got three.”

  “What will you do with all those ducks?” Orkedeh asked. “I got two, just the right amount to feed my eight kids.”

  “Mikhail always gives some to Yalda and Zhila,” Ninsianna said.

  “I'll give them a duck,” Mikhail said. “And I think we should present one to the Chief.”

  “Oooooo!” Pareesa jumped up and down. “Let’s do it right in front of that pompous, goatheaded son of his and show Jamin a thing or two!”

  Just three days ago, Pareesa had shouted at Jamin and called him a pompous jerk after he'd tormented her little brother into a fit of anger about her taking archery training.

  “Pareesa,” Alalah said. "That's not a kind thought. Or language. Your mother would be very upset.”

  “I think giving the Chief one of our ducks is an extremely kind thought,” Pareesa's eyes sparkled with mischief. “Doesn’t everyone agree?”

  “Our family has seven ducks between the three of us,” Immanu said. “One of which we shall give to Yalda and Zhila. I think we can spare two for the Chief.”

  “Yes,” Mikhail said. “And we should throw two more into the take to give the archers who didn't get enough. If you and Ninsianna agree.”

  “That would be fine with me,” Immanu said.

  “And me,” Ninsianna said.

  Showing up the lazy boys who refused to learn the latest technology was sweet payback. Mikhail wouldn't participate in the archer's gesture towards the chief, but he wouldn't forbid it, either. The archers gathered their kill and headed off to the village square to make their presentation, their spirits high as they marched arm-in-arm. Immanu took the ducks they'd chosen to keep and excused himself, leaving Mikhail and Ninsianna alone.

  “Jamin will spit stones when Pareesa presents his father with those ducks,” Ninsianna said. “You realize the little mischief maker will do it so the whole village sees?" She slipped her arms around his waist.

  Personally, it pleased him to watch the little fairy give Jamin his comeuppance…

  “What does or does not upset Jamin is his problem." Mikhail inhaled her scent. “I won't deliberately antagonize him, but I will not shield him from others who notice he is undermining the well-being of the village.”

  “Chief Kiyan enjoys gifts,” Ninsianna laughed. “He'll be pleased with the ducks, and also that his investment in archers is paying off.”

  “Very publicly rewarding him for training a bunch of women and one very old man." Mikhail nuzzled her hair as he encircled her in his wings. “It will make the ducks taste decadent as far as he is concerned.”

  “Mikha
il?" Ninsianna pressed her ear to his chest so she could hear his heartbeat. “Where do you want to live after we are married?”

  “I haven't given the matter any thought,” he said. “What is your custom?”

  “I love my parents,” she said. “But their house is rather small. I want to make loud, happy noises when you make love to me!" Ninsianna stood on tiptoe and suggestively rubbed her abdomen against his manhood, causing him to sharply inhale.

  He pondered the question. He would like to live someplace where he didn't have to scrunch up his wings to fit. Ubaid houses were small, especially for someone as big as him. At first he'd hoped his people would come for him and help him repair his ship so he could take her to the stars she often dreamily told him she wished with all of her heart to see, but the more time that passed, the less likely rescue seemed. Even that gnawing sensation that he had a mission to complete had begun to fade the moment he'd asked Ninsianna to marry him. His place was here now, with her. He would adjust his expectations to meet those of the Ubaid who had welcomed him into their midst.

  “Would you like me to build you a new house?” He looked up at the hill where Assur rose above the banks of the Hiddekel, built bumble-tumble on a hill and jammed too close together. “Where?"

  “Not too far away from my parents," she said. "Just not with them. It would be embarrassing if they overheard us." She nibbled on his lower lip until he deepened his kiss.

  Fire burned through his entire body. “If you keep teasing me like this, we aren’t going to make it to our wedding night.”

  “That's the idea… “

  “I promised your parents we would wait,” he said. “Your father agreed to let us marry on Lammas day.”

  “What if I don't want to wait?" She slid her hand down his back to the ticklish spot just beneath the beltline of his pants.