“Home sweet home…” Ninsianna said without enthusiasm.
“For now…” Mikhail put her down. “At least until I can build our own house."
The house he pictured was nothing like the houses of this village. The ceilings would be high enough for him to stretch his wings, with lots of windows to catch the breeze. The kitchen would be large enough to fill with family and friends, and there would be a real bathroom with running water. But to build it, he needed time. And to get time, he needed to hurry up and finish training the people of this village to take care of themselves!
“I see our parents moved your things out of the main living area,” Ninsianna said. “I presume they moved them into my room.”
“Where we'll be sleeping really, r-e-a-l-l-y close together!" He pulled her close and nuzzled down her neck until she shrieked with laughter. Ninsianna’s room was small and her bed even smaller. He wouldn't have room to flare his wings without knocking them into the wall.
The sound of voices alerted them they were no longer alone. Ninsianna’s parents had headed back from the fields the moment they'd seen them glide in for a landing, their arms filled with the bounty they'd planted as a family only months before. For some reason, it felt right.
“Welcome home!" Needa hugged them both and kissed both cheeks. “I trust you two had a … fruitful … honeymoon?”
“Mom!” Ninsianna blushed at the implied meaning. It was too soon to tell if their time together would prove to be fruitful or not.
“Trying my hardest, ma’am,” Mikhail grinned as he pulled Ninsianna against him for a hug. It was the understatement of the year! For someone who had kept his libido so tightly leashed, he was discovering he enjoyed making love to his lovely wife. Preferably as much as possible!
“Mikhail!” Ninsianna exclaimed. “You're worse than she is!”
“Supper will be ready in an hour,” Needa said. “Mikhail … could you please go milk the goat?”
Mikhail groaned. He, Angelic Special Forces Colonel, fiercest warrior this village had ever seen, supposedly a sword of the very gods who ruled this galaxy, consistently lost his daily battle with their recalcitrant dairy goat, ‘Little Nemesis.' No matter what he tried … food bribes, coercion, force, even terror, the goat would just not cooperate. He usually ended up spilling as much milk as he was able to extract.
“A wise man must learn to coax a reluctant female." Immanu gave him a knowing look. “It's your only weakness…”
“The goat?” he asked.
“No … the gift of persuasion…” Immanu donned his most enigmatic shaman look. “A wise leader must know not only how to defeat his enemies in combat, but also how to persuade them to come around to his way of thinking so combat is not necessary in the first place. You must overcome that weakness.”
Mikhail digested that piece of information, puzzling over Immanu’s cryptic words, before shooting him a grin. “It sounds like an excuse to get me to milk the goat instead of you.”
“That too…” Immanu chuckled.
An hour later, with cloven hoof prints all over his pants, they sat down for supper and caught up on what had been happening during the two weeks they'd been away.
“Alalah and Pareesa gave basic archery lessons to Jamin’s elite group while you were gone,” Immanu said, “while Behnam and Orkedeh have been teaching your new combat candidates. Chief Kiyan himself took over teaching them to march in formation carrying water to the fields. They're looking pretty good.”
“Has Jamin taken lessons yet,” Ninsianna asked. “He can't keep refusing to acknowledge things need to change. He's the best warrior we have … after Mikhail."
She caught Mikhail's scowl and shot out her hand to cover his. "Honey … we need him.”
“Jamin won't be shooting a bow, or anything else anytime soon,” Immanu scowled. “He tried to bully Pareesa. Your little çok puan ile mızrak[4] didn't take too kindly to that.”
Ever since Pareesa had escaped capture, she'd devoted all of her time to learning everything she could about the art of warfare. Amongst the trainees, she'd earned the nickname 'çok puan ile mızrak,' [weapon of mass destruction]. She tried to mimic Mikhail's cool reserve and had even taught herself to shoot two arrows simultaneously. Someday soon his youngest student would surpass his archery abilities … and then some! The woman-child was even learning to speak Cherubim!
“Did you take the issue up with the Chief?” Mikhail asked.
“The Chief sided with Pareesa,” Immanu said. “Jamin shouldn't be undermining his authority or the safety of this village by discouraging able-bodied warriors from training.”
“Good,” Mikhail snorted satisfaction.
“Mikhail,” Needa's dark eyes were filled with worry. “You'd better watch your back with that young man. If he ever has the chance to strike at you, he will.”
“I know,” Mikhail said.
“At least the Chief is no longer in denial that he has a problem on his hands,” Ninsianna said.
Mikhail tucked away the errant image of throttling Jamin away into that place he sent all unhelpful emotions that would do more harm than good to brood about. Sometimes he wished he'd smote the skulking peacock that night Jamin had attacked his ship. Had he done it then, killing him would have been justified. Unfortunately, killing the Chief’s son would have barred him from joining this village, now his village. As Ninsianna liked to always remind him, She-who-is was wise in her foresight.
Dinner finished with small talk about things that had gone on while they were absent. Needa talked about how the crops fared and who had gotten sick while they were gone. Mikhail talked about the dream house he wished to build for Ninsianna. Ninsianna and her father bounced ideas for transforming the disorganized villagers into a respectable fighting force. The next time raiders attacked the village, they would be better prepared.
Eager to turn in for an early night, Mikhail grabbed his blushing bride by the hand, bid her parents goodnight, and dragged her upstairs, trying very hard not to be too loud as he thumped his wings against the wall.
Chapter 101
Galactic Standard Date: 152,323.08 AE
Alliance Territory
Centauri Cavalry General Kunopegos
Kunopegos
He looked down on the Alliance Prime Minister. Literally. General Kunopegos, the four-star general who commanded the Centauri Calvary, towered over the tall, slender Angelic by nearly twice his height. He used that height difference now to communicate how displeased he was with whatever stunt Lucifer was trying to pull..
“You said you had a solution to my problem!” General Kunopegos growled. “How in Hades am I supposed to reproduce with that? She’s one-tenth my size!" Crossing his muscular arms in front of his barrel chest he glowered down at Lucifer, his hooves clopping angrily against the deck
“Very carefully,” Lucifer waved his hand as though it was merely a trifle. “But after a human female has given birth the first time, they are physically capable of being a bit more, how shall I put it delicately? Accommodating. If you prefer, we have the technology to impregnate her artificially. Either way, your foal will need to be harvested 11 weeks early and spend time in an incubator.”
“I don't like the thought of my foal spending time in an incubator,” Kunopegos said.
“Well … if you want to keep trying the Emperor’s way …” Lucifer trailed off, flipping one hand to the side as though to say, ‘whatever.’
In fact, every aspect of Lucifer’s demeanor said ‘whatever.' Kunopegos had served the Alliance and, by default, Lucifer, for a very long time. Lucifer had always been a ladies man. A bit of a peacock. Masterfully playing both sides against the middle like one of his adopted father's infamous games of chess. But never had he seen their highest elected official act outright … chilling.
All the fruitless mating attempts he'd tried over the years replayed in Kunopegos mind. The filly he'd asked to secretly marry him all those years ago in defiance of the 'be fruitful and
multiply' decree. She'd abandoned him after the sixth mating attempt had failed. The humiliation of being blacklisted, his name available for any mare who wished to inquire as being a risky candidate. The way mares paid him a wide berth whenever they started to come into a heat cycle, avoiding him so they didn't have to tell their commanding officer 'no.'
“I’ve tried every solution and it’s failed!" Sparks flew from Kunopegos hoof as it clanged against the deck with a sound like a ringing bell. “Ever since I was blacklisted, females won’t go for a romp in the pasture! Even when they're not in heat!"
His eyes drifted back to the tiny female Lucifer had brought on board with him, clad in a shapeless garment that covered her from the top of her head down to her toes, tiny even by Angelic standards. She looked more like a child's doll than somebody he should be considering a mating attempt with.
“Many foals are naturally born premature,” Lucifer's voice was hypnotically reasonable, “and spend time in an incubator with no ill effect. I mean … look at her. She is smaller than you are. If you want to beget a foal upon her, you're going to have to make a few accommodations.”
“Why can’t the Emperor just rear them in an incubator from scratch?” Kunopegos lamented. "That seemed to work just fine for some of the lesser species he tinkered with?"
Kunopegos would know. He'd personally helped the Emperor reseed planets with interesting life forms over his five hundred plus years as a Centauri cavalry officer. For some reason even the Emperor couldn't understand, the more sentient species became, the lower the success rate of artificial insemination and incubation.
“The Emperor has not been able to reproduce some critical element of the early gestational period,” Lucifer said. “We can help the little foals along who arrive too early, but we can't replace their mother. Superior races can only reproduce naturally.”
Kunopegos turned the information over in his mind, still considering whether he should quietly ask one of his lower-ranking officers to manufacture a fake distress call so he would have an excuse to get the heck out of there without ticking off the Emperor's son, or should he seriously consider what Lucifer proposed?
“So … is this one an experienced brood mare? Or a filly?”
“This one is a filly, I'm afraid." Lucifer's eerie silver eyes gleamed as though he found that thought to be exciting. “You'll have to be careful the first time you mate with her so that you don't damage her.”
An untried filly? Would be willing to mate? With him?
“I'd feel a little better if I knew she was already … accommodating,” Kunopegos said apprehensively, shoving his libido back where it belonged. “I'm afraid I'll hurt her. Don't you have any mares that are maybe a little more … experienced?”
“Human females prefer to stay with one stallion and rear their foals in a herd,” Lucifer said. “Unless a mare is widowed young. Let’s just say there are few mares willing to leave their families. It's a filly. Or nothing at all.”
“They stay with their stallions and rear their own foals?” Kunopegos asked. “You mean they don't just drop them off at the nearest youth training academy like Centauri mares do?”
“No,” Lucifer said. “Humans are herd animals. They stick together.”
As Lucifer spoke, images of galloping through the ship's pasture with a handsome bay colt with his eyes pranced through Kunopegos mind. On his back, the doll-like female sat nursing a newborn filly with a coal-black coat and her unusual almond-shaped eyes. They ran off together into the sunset, a stallion and his herd, the way his ancestors had once reared their families.
“So how do I do this?” Kunopegos asked. “Go into a stall with a dirty magazine and hand a vial over to my chief medical officer?”
“No, no…” Lucifer said. “Engaging in actual intercourse with a male as large as you her first time might prove uncomfortable. But she has been trained to pleasure you in other ways. Once she has gathered certain … how shall we put it … crucial elements, my laboratory technicians will take care of the rest. I timed this visit for her peak fertility. You should know whether or not the mating is successful within three days.”
“And what do you want in return?" Kunopegos eyed Lucifer with skepticism. The Alliance Prime Minister was like all politicians. He rarely granted favors without wanting something in return.
“My father has had the solution to our dilemma all along,” Lucifer clucked. “And kept it from us. He would rather let us die out rather than break his silly prohibition about seed worlds.”
As Lucifer spoke, a recurring nightmare Kunopegos had experienced ever since he'd been blacklisted replayed in his mind. He was running through a pasture on a planet someplace, chasing a herd that he knew was headed for a cliff. He called out to them, again and again, begging them to stop, but the entire herd simply kept going the direction they were going until they reached the cliff. He got to the cliff and looked down at countless broken Centauri bodies, all smashed upon the rocks below. He always woke up in a cold sweat, his heart racing at the terror of finding himself the last of his species.
“The Emperor has known where they were all along?” Kunopegos swished his tail. “Why hasn’t he brought the solution forward earlier? I've been banging my head against the wall for more than 500 years!!!”
“Hashem was not the one who brought them forward,” Lucifer said. “Shay’tan did. My father ceded that world to Shay’tan millennia ago. Shay’tan would like to … how shall I put it? Tweak my father’s nose by opening up the human homeworld to trade.”
“Hashem is really going to let us die out?" Kunopegos felt as though somebody had just shot him out the airlock of his own command carrier. No. It couldn't be true!
“He has ordered commanders to start promoting the newer sentient races into positions we used to hold,” Lucifer said, his words curiously devoid of emotion given how passionate the Prime Minister usually was on this subject. “We are being replaced.”
Kunopegos heart sunk down to his hooves. It was true. The evidence had been staring him in the face all along and he'd been in denial about it. He glanced up at the Prime Minister and shivered. Lucifer’s cold, silver eyes glittered with some emotion? Anger? No … satisfaction. The Prime Minister had the look of a man who'd just won a large wager.
“I received the promotion order,” Kunopegos said. “I heard General Jophiel threatened to quit if the Emperor didn't make some concessions with his insane breeding program.”
“The Emperor omitted the fact he's been hiding the root race,” Lucifer said. “Do you really trust his explanation now?”
“So what do you want?" Kunopegos pointed at the tiny female. "If I accept this gift?"
“Just keep her existence a secret,” Lucifer said. “That's all. Until I have a chance to move the rest of my chess pieces into position."
"I refuse to participate in a rebellion," Kunopegos growled. "We all saw what happened to the last hybrid who tried that stunt." Kunopegos didn't add that the hybrid in question had been none other than Lucifer's biological father.
I'm only going to petition Parliament to open the human homeworld to trade," Lucifer pooh-poohed, "but it will take time to build support for an override. It's important we hybrids speak in one voice to let the Emperor know we will not allow ourselves be marginalized into extinction.”
“In Parliament…” Kunopegos said with a grunt. “I'll not go supporting an armed uprising.”
“Of course not,” Lucifer said. “I wouldn't ask you to. He is, after all, my father. Now … would you like to meet your new mate?"
The two burly Angelics who perpetually shadowed Lucifer dragged the female closer. She seemed a little off-kilter, as though she'd been drugged. She stood there as docile as an old brood mare suckling her last foal, however, allowing him to canter around her and examine her from every angle instead of screeching like most humanoids did upon being towered over by a Centauri stallion.
“Her hair is so black … and her skin olive." Kunopegos felt how thick
and coarse her hair felt, like his hair, only straight instead of curly. “Why are her eyes almond-shaped?”
“Humans evolved naturally,” Lucifer paced like a maestro conducting an orchestra. “They come in a variety of markings just like your ancestors did before they became inbred.”
One of Kunopegos distant ancestors had possessed pinto-paint markings. Another buckskin. Thanks to the desperation of the breeding program, all hybrids knew their lineage, but those markings had been lost for tens of thousands of years. Thoughts of those colorful ancestors came into his mind. Without realizing he'd even done so, Kunopegos had reached out and enclosed the human filly's hand in his large, brown one. She didn't appear to be afraid of him, unlike most races in the galaxy.
“Does she have a name?” Kunopegos asked.
“Her name is Aigiarn,” Lucifer said. “It means shining moon. She comes from a nomadic tribe of steppe-dwellers who live amongst the race that contributed the other half of your DNA, horses. She will be happiest riding upon your back.”
“You mean Shay'tan's colony also has our equine ancestors?” Kunopegos asked, his hooves clomping with excitement. “Why can’t we reproduce with them? Like the Mer-Levi?”
“Alas,” Lucifer clucked. “Your equine ancestors were allowed to rot, the same as these humans. Humans were already sentient when the Emperor decided to tinker with their DNA, but your equestrian ancestors are no more sentient than my avian ones are.”
“But Leviathans…” Kunopegos started to say.
“Leviathans were already marginally sentient,” Lucifer said. “The Emperor transplanted a few of their ancestors to a new homeworld after tinkering with their DNA and then forgot all about them.”
This was no secret. Kunopegos was old enough to remember when an Alliance ship had investigated an unusual energy signature in a remote part of the galaxy and discovered a race of sentient aquatic mammals descended from the same creatures that had contributed the aquatic half of Merfolk DNA. In the time since the loss of Nibiru, the original human homeworld, the Levi had evolved into fully sentient creatures who had achieved space travel on their own. The news had been both good and bad. Merfolk were no longer going extinct, but they were no longer … well … Merfolk, either. After several generations of intermarriage with Leviathans, the Mer-Levi children no longer resembled the half-human hybrids they were descended from.
Sword of the Gods: The Chosen One (Sword of the Gods Saga) Page 51