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

by Anna Erishkigal

  “The Emperor didn't feel horses were important enough to gift with sentience,” Lucifer said. “If you reproduce with an animal, your offspring will be mentally defective.”

  “But human females will breed true?” Kunopegos asked.

  “Yes,” Lucifer said. “At least as far as sentience is concerned. Although half your offspring will more closely resemble this human than you. You'll be making a sacrifice to guarantee the survival of your own species.”

  “If this is the only way my bloodline will survive,” Kunopegos said. “Then that's what I must do." Turning back to the female, Kunopegos made his choice. “Come, my beautiful filly. Let’s get to know one another.”

  Grabbing his hand, Aigiarn swung up onto the equestrian half of his back as though he were a pony and kicked him in the haunches, urging him to run. The thighs that gripped his back were sure of themselves and strong. His apprehensions melted away. This was not the frail, exotic flower he'd first assumed her to be due to her diminutive height. The human root stock was … athletic?

  “OOoooooh,” Kunopegos pranced like a colt. “On second thought, perhaps I'll enjoy this little romp?”

  The knowing smile Lucifer gave him didn't reach his eyes.

  “Gyaah!" Aigiarn slapped his haunches and steered him with her knees towards the pasture visible in the ship beyond, crouching like a jockey. Kunopegos and his mare-to-be did their pre-mating run out into the communal ship pasture.

  Chapter 102

  September, 3,390 BC

  Earth: Village of Assur

  Colonel Mikhail Mannuki’ili

  Mikhail

  Last night Mikhail had sent the warriors into the underbrush to harvest a shoulder-height walking stick for today’s sparring lesson. They held them now in a disorganized, almost contemptuous manner, more eager to learn archery after watching Pareesa take down Jamin than to master a weapon so mundane as an ordinary walking stick. That was about to change.

  “The foundation of all Cherubim training is the ability to defend yourself using nothing but your empty hands,” Mikhail said. “Once you've mastered the art of unarmed combat, you can add weapons comprised of things you might find up in nature. No matter where you go, chances are you'll always be able to find a stick to defend yourself.”

  “Why can't we just use our spears?” Ugazum scowled at his stick. Ugazum was one of Jamin's elite warriors who'd attacked him the day his ship had crashed and still gave him a bit of trouble.

  “What happens once you run out of weapons?" Mikhail asked. He flared his wings, just enough to watch Ugazum flinch. There. Me … alpha male. You … obey. Oh how he hated this game! He tucked his wings against his back as soon as Ugazum fell back into line

  "Now … line up and hold out your sticks so that you stand at least a staff-length apart,” Mikhail said. "Place your staff with your hand at the midpoint." He demonstrated the correct way to hold the staff, walking up the line to correct mistakes. “It shouldn't look much different from the way you might carry a walking stick. Non-threatening. However, you can quickly move into almost any position."

  Like a bolt of lightning, he swung the staff into imaginary feints and jabs. A murmur of appreciation went through the trainees at how the innocuous looking piece of wood could be moved to defend against a variety of threats.

  “Sir?” Ebad asked. “When will we learn to throw a spear the way that you did at the solstice tournament?" While the elite warriors were competent to use a spear, most of the other warriors were not. Yet…

  “Let’s learn how to defend ourselves first,” Mikhail said. “And then we can learn to throw it later. If it doesn’t have a spearhead at the end, there's no point in throwing it. You'll simply disarm yourself.”

  The warriors practiced thwacking one another until the training took on a satisfying percussion. Chief Kiyan came striding up, a staff in his hand.

  “Chief on deck!" Mikhail saluted the way he would a superior officer.

  The salute the trainees gave the Chief was disorganized and awkward, but heartfelt. The Chief noted who was in attendance and how well they swung their staff weapons before pulling Mikhail aside.

  "I see you've attracted more female warriors?" Chief Kiyan laughed. "You've gathered quite the harem."

  Mikhail shot the Chief a raised eyebrow, his best approximation of the one Needa used whenever she found something hard to believe.

  "They merely wish to learn to defend themselves," Mikhail said.

  "More likely they wish to catch husbands," the Chief shot him a wolfish grin. "Word has gotten around around the fastest way a girl can gather a retinue of adoring retainers is to take your class."

  Mikhail gazed across the now-36 females who buzzed around Pareesa like bees. "They seem to care more for each other's company than the men."

  Except … the women kept giving the men that furtive side-glance Ninsianna often gave him when she wished to cause his temperature to rise. The men, in turn, seemed to show off even more when the women did that. Mikhail filed the information away in that growing mental database he called inexplicable human behavior.

  "I have an idea for a morale-building exercise," the Chief said. "A large herd of gazelles has begun their annual migration across the plain."

  "A hunt?" Mikhail looked at the size of the group. "There are far too many to take them all. Who do you propose?"

  "Thirty of your most promising men," the Chief said, then added, "and women. Select a few warriors from each group. The older warriors, the newer ones, and a few of the elite warriors."

  Mikhail looked at the people training, already calculating who he'd recommend. "Let me know when. I'll have them ready."

  The Chief moved off to scrutinize the warriors, occasionally stepping in to test his own staff routines against the newer ones Mikhail taught the warriors. Ever since the Chief had given up on Jamin picking up the baton of leadership, he'd been taking a personal interest in the village defenses.

  Mikhail glanced across the field and noticed Ninsianna walking towards him with her bow, a nice fat goose slung over one shoulder. She sat down on a rock to watch him train, giving him an enormous smile that distracted him from the much less enticing task of watching novice staff-fighters accidentally hit one another off the head. He suppressed the urge to do a hop-flap over to kiss her, his entire body aware of her eyes watching as he trained their people. Now it was him showing off…

  "Pareesa … could you please help me demonstrate?” he asked.

  “Yorokobi, kyōshi to [with pleasure],” Pareesa clicked in the Cherubim tongue. Not only did the little demoness fight like hellspawn, but she'd also learned to say the names of the maneuvers in the Cherubim tongue.

  “Just like we practiced earlier, okay?”

  “Hai, sensei wa [yes, teacher], watashi wa junbi ga dekite iru [I am ready],” she answered.

  “Showoffs wa, oha ga kikkā o shutoku [showoffs get their tail feathers kicked],” he warned half in one language, half in the other as the Cherubim had no direct translation for the word ‘showoff.'

  He swung his pole around to make contact with hers in the choreographed moves that would allow his students to gain familiarity with using the staff. As the tiny archer adjusted to the strength of his blows, he increased his speed and strength to give her a good workout. Pareesa responded by coming at him with a ferocity which no longer surprised him.

  “Hey! Hey! Hey!" he cautioned. "Don't get too big for your kilt, little fairy.”

  Pareesa laughed and made a surprise lunge that was not part of the routine, nearly hitting him on the shoulder as she danced out of his way.

  “The only one too big for their britches is an oversized slowpoke like you!” she taunted, cocky about her ability to land blows she'd learned only yesterday. She'd obviously spent the entire night practicing by her skill and the dark circles under her eyes.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?" He could see his students, and Ninsianna, enjoyed watching the fiesty young woman give him a run
for his money. “In front of everybody?”

  “Give me your best shot,” Pareesa taunted.

  He noted Ninsianna's raised eyebrow.

  “Okay, you asked for it,” Mikhail said.

  He swung his staff like a whirligig, jerked it up and knocked Pareesa's staff out of her hand. At the same time, he hooked one foot behind her knee and knocked her to the ground with his staff at her throat. She landed with a thud. His students laughed. Some were happy to see her provide a continuous source of entertainment, others glad to see her get what she had coming to her. Pareesa lay there for a moment, blinking with surprise and most uncharacteristically free of a cocky retort.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. He reached down to pull her up.

  “Yup!" Pareesa grabbed one hand and pulled herself up, laughing as she strutted back into line with the other women with both hands raised in the air as though she had won their match of only a moment before. Half a dozen young men made a beeline for her, slapping her on the back and making crude comments about her fighting abilities that were usually only shared between an all-male pack.

  “Show's over,” Mikhail announced. “Pair up. Now it’s time for you to practice what Pareesa just demonstrated." He glanced at Chief Kiyan, who watched his little prodigy with amusement. Chief Kiyan had backed Pareesa in the arrow incident, not his own son. The man had an eye for talent.

  "Chief ... would you mind sparring with our little weapon of mass destruction?” Mikhail asked.

  “Of course,” Chief Kiyan said. He put his staff into a fighting position and beckoned. “Come, little fairy."

  Although the exact method of staff-fighting Mikhail taught was new to the Chief, the older warriors had learned to use a spear to block blows back when border skirmishes with the Halifians were a lot more common.

  “Don't let her get too cocky,” Mikhail whispered before turning back to the group. He ordered them to start. “Ready ... set ... go....!”

  Ninsianna sauntered over. Was it his imagination, or did she deliberately sway her hips to taunt him?

  “She has a crush on you, you know?” Ninsianna said.

  “What?”

  “Pareesa ... has a crush on you?” Ninsianna repeated, a little smile on her face. “Why do you think she trains so hard.”

  “Really?" He frowned as he glanced over to watch Pareesa keep glancing back at him as she sparred the Chief, as though seeking his approval. "You say that about all of them. How can you tell?”

  “I can see the energy, remember?” Ninsianna used the cover provided by one wing to reach around and possessively pinch his backside. “Ever since you rescued her, Pareesa has had a huge crush on you.”

  “She's just a little girl." He glanced over to where his youngest student had knocked the Chief onto his back and made him admit defeat before letting him back up. “Isn’t she a little too young?”

  “She's a fierce warrior in a young woman’s body,” Ninsianna said. “And she is exactly the same age I was when I developed my first crush on an older man." Her eyes crinkled up in an enigmatic smile.

  “Oh,” Mikhail raised one eyebrow. “An older man? Who?”

  Her smile grew even wider as she lowered her gaze and peeked at him through veiled eyelashes, the look that never failed to make his heart race.

  “Why? Are you jealous?” she teased.

  "Yes," Mikhail none-too-seriously admitted.

  “It's none of your business!" Ninsianna laughed. "It happens to every girl at some point. Young girl. Sexy older man. Lucky you. You get to have Pareesa follow you around like a love-sick puppy!”

  “How do I discourage her without hurting her feelings?" Mikhail asked. "Pareesa is my best student.”

  “Very delicately,"Ninsianna said. "Or you shall have another goat on your hands!”

  "Oh, no," Mikhail groaned aloud, thinking of his ongoing war with the family's dairy goat. “I don't want that to happen. How do you recommend I handle this?”

  “Ask Pareesa to help you train some of the young men who are having trouble mastering the basics,” she said. “Young Ebad over there has been mooning after her for months. Ask her to train him. And about a dozen of his worst-performing friends. It will solve two problems at once.”

  “Pareesa will chew him up for dinner and spit out his bones for breakfast,” Mikhail said. “She won't be happy I've saddled her with someone as inept as Ebad.”

  “He will learn ... for her,” Ninsianna said. “And she will be the better for it. Tell her you want her to do it as a special favor because you're afraid he'll get himself killed."

  Now that wasn't a lie!

  "How did I ever get so lucky to win the heart of a wife as smart as you?" Mikhail grinned.

  "You fell out of the sky, remember?" Ninsianna said. "Anyhow ... I have got to go dress this bird so Mama can cook it for supper. I'll see you in a few hours, okay?”

  He bent to kiss her, lingering to taste her sweet lips. She nipped his lower lip and pressed into him. Desire tingled through his body and made the outside world fade from his consciousness.

  The sound of sticks hitting each other and grunts of pain ceased. Hoots and cat-calls came from the back of the line. They'd lingered longer than was appropriate. Between tending the fields, training new warriors, consulting with the Chief about the village defenses, and helping Alalah and Behnam work the kinks out of the women's archery training program, he could never seem to find enough time to spend with her, even now that they were married and sharing the same bed. He had a tendency to grab stolen moments such as this and not want to let her go, resulting in much good-natured teasing about the normally reserved Angelic turning to putty in Ninsianna’s hands.

  Reluctantly, he pulled himself away and turned back to his work, watching Ninsianna’s pert little backside out of the corner of his eye as she went about her business.

  “Okay, everybody ... let’s get back to work!”

  Chapter 103

  Galactic Standard Date: 152,323.09 AE

  Uncharted Territories:

  Diplomatic Carrier ‘Prince of Tyre’

  Special Agent Eligor

  Eligor

  “Bring this human to the Prime Minister’s private quarters,” Zepar ordered.

  Eligor looked at Lerajie. Lerajie looked like he wanted to throttle the weasely Chief of Staff. Things had been weird on this ship for a very long time, but the last few months? Well … even with the so-called ‘combat pay’ and bonuses, if not for the carrot of being first on Lucifer’s ‘mail order bride’ list the minute the Prime Minister pulled off whatever little coup d’état he was cooking up with the females he was 'gifting’ all over the Alliance, both of them would have been out of here.

  “Well?” Zepar asked. His eyes had that cold, feral stare that always made Eligor shudder.

  “Sorry, Sir." Eligor interrupted Lerajie before he could tell Zepar to go to hell. “Right away, Sir.”

  The dark-skinned human male had been a problem since the day Sata’an traders had transported him onto their ship. Lucifer’s goon squad always intercepted incoming shipments before the others could get a look at the females they shipped in. Rumor said they were a bit simple, to put it kindly. Or at least that was how the fourteen pregnant females Lucifer had ordered them to guard around-the-clock acted. Like … monkeys. Big, stupid, very attractive monkeys.

  But the male … the male had been so combative that even Lucifer’s goons couldn't handle him. Eligor had been called in to hold him down while they sedated him. The man had been drugged into a stupor ever since, but as Eligor had looked into the dark-skinned man's eyes, there had been real intelligence in those eyes. The sounds that had come from his mouth had not been the hisses and guttural yowls of the fourteen females Lucifer had impregnated, but the pattern of a language. A pre-language, perhaps?

  The dark-skinned man shuffled down the hall, nearly falling as they led him through the ship. He didn't act like a sentient creature now.

  “We've got to report th
is to somebody!" Lerajie interrupted his thoughts. “Even if they are just animals, we can’t keep standing by and doing nothing. They are the precursor to our species!”

  “Do you really think Lucifer will just let you just waltz off of his ship?”

  “I don't care what I signed,” Lerajie said. “The Emperor would be furious if he found out how Lucifer is treating his root stock!”

  “I'm not worried about the non-disclosure agreements,” Eligor said. He noted the icy stare of the two guards who perpetually stood outside Lucifer’s door like a matched pair of gargoyles. “Shh… Not here.”

  They handed over the dark-skinned male. They were dismissed. The two goons shoved the heavily-sedated male through the door. Eligor and Lerajie headed towards the mess hall to grab a bite to eat.

  “What do you mean, it’s not getting tossed in jail that worries you,” Lerajie asked as soon as they were out of earshot of the goons.

  “Did you ever hear from Pistis again after he threatened to blab about the female Lucifer gifted to General Kunopegos?” Eligor asked.

  “He quit,” Lerajie said.

  “His sire contacted me looking for him,” Eligor said. “No one knows where he went.”

  “So?” Lerajie said.

  “What about Tabbris?” Eligor said. “Heard from him since he tried to file a report through official channels about the rough treatment of the human females Lucifer raped?”

  “No,” Lerajie said. “You don't think…”