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The Sacrifice

Page 24

by Nhys Glover


  I grabbed his arm, twisted it over my shoulder and sent him flying. He landed with a thump on his back. I had done just this to Jaron in the cavern. This time it had been even more satisfying.

  Rama looked up at me as if I'd grown two heads. I pressed my booted foot on his throat.

  "Let me make myself clear. I. Was. With. No. One. But. You. It. Is. Your. Seed. That. Grows. In. My. Belly. Am I making myself understood?"

  He tried to bat my foot away but I pressed down in the way the instructors had taught the youths-in-training to do. A moment later he was reluctantly nodding. I withdrew my boot and put my fists on my hips.

  "I'm going to say this only once. Though I would have chosen a better time, I'm not sorry I'm with child. I'm not sorry it's your child. No matter what you might think of yourself, I know you are a good man and that this child will be a good man." I stopped and looked surprised for a moment. Another Knowing from somewhere else. I was barely with child and I already knew the gender of my offspring?

  "Oh. My. Goddess!" I cried in shock, sitting down hard on my rump as the next Knowing hit me.

  Rama was immediately at my side, concern written all over his face. "Airsha, Goddess, what ails you? Are you losing the baby? Tell me!"

  I laughed a little and cupped his scarred cheek in my hand. "I'm having a magical son. We're having a magical son. Huh! This is... I'm not sure what this is." I felt overwhelmed with joy and confusion. This changed everything. Everything!

  "How can you know that? It's too early. Even I know women can't tell the sex of a child this early." He had seated himself in the dust beside me, all bad humour gone. Now he was just as bemused as I was.

  "I don't know how I Know. I just do. It came to me. Just like it came to me that Mother being transported to Westsealund for execution is a trap. I just Know!"

  "The magical daughter will bear magical offspring to many different men," Rama quoted in awe.

  I dropped my head to his shoulder to hide my face. I felt sick in a different way now. I knew what my child would be. And that meant only one thing. The prophecy was talking about me!

  This changed everything!

  Rama rested a comforting hand on my head. "You had to realise the truth sooner or later. You couldn't hide from it forever."

  "I don't want this," I murmured against the bare skin of his upper arm, feeling the muscle flex at the contact.

  "I know you don't, sweet girl. Just like I don't want this to be my son. But the fates'll have their way, it seems. Complaining about it won't help."

  I kissed the skin, hot, golden and sheened with sweat. Rama let out a shaky breath, his hand on my head caressing my hair now.

  I kissed him again, an open mouthed kiss this time. I felt his whole body stiffen.

  "Keep doing that and I'll take you here in the dirt, goddess or not," he warned, his usually low voice even lower.

  "There's a haystack over there," I observed, equally shaky. I had not been with any of my men separately since we came together as a group. In fact, I realised in surprise, he was the only one I had ever been with separately.

  With a feral growl, Rama swept me up off the ground and took the few strides over to the pile of fresh mown grass that would be fodder for the airlings over winter. He threw me, none too gently, onto the pile and followed me down. He claimed my mouth like he was starving for it. Starving for me. And I kissed him back with the same frenzied need. All sickness, tiredness and worry had disappeared. Lust was all there was.

  Our coming together was fast and fiery. The explosive need spent as fast as it had risen. When we lay in each other's arms after, my gown still rucked up around my waist, his breeches still undone, I felt the first peace I had known since I found out about my mother.

  "Are you really unhappy about the babe?" I asked, as I listened to the slowing beat of his heart.

  "I... I feel proud. And guilty. And terrified. My father was a bad man. He beat my mother when he found she carried his seed. He tried to kill me. I'm like him. What if my son's a monster... Gods, what if he's like me?"

  I shook my head. "My father is a monster. I can admit that now. He killed his own daughters. He had me thrown in a hole and then whipped for his pleasure. He wanted me dead. Still does. And now he wants my mother dead, too. All because she had the misfortune of bearing me. Am I, as his child, a monster or bad seed?"

  "Of course not. I didn't mean... You take after your mother, obviously," he assured me hastily.

  "You take after your mother. Strong, pragmatic and unselfish. You were a good son. You killed your mother's murderer. You're a good brother. A good husband to me. You will be a good father. I Know this in the same way I Know I carry a magical son."

  "I'm none of those things," he croaked out, tears in his voice.

  "Your brothers and I disagree. But even if you're right, you can become those things.

  "I once heard a story about a special beastling. When it was fed certain foods it became dangerous and evil. When it was fed other foods it was loving and kind. In itself the beastling was neither good nor bad. It was what he was fed. What do you choose to feed your beastling, Rama? Anger and resentment, and the sure knowledge you are bad? Or do you feed him love and acceptance, with the sure knowledge that you are essentially good? My son needs a father who will feed his beastling with love. So do I."

  He thought about my words for a while and finally leaned in to kiss my lips tenderly. "Why am I the one you love like this?"

  "In a barn?" I asked, intentionally misunderstanding.

  "Alone."

  I shrugged. "Circumstances? It won't happen again, I promise." I laughed a little unsteadily. How could I tell him that he was the one who needed me focused totally on him. He was the one who needed to know he was special?

  "See that it doesn't," he said with mock ill-humour. Then with a light laugh he jumped up, righted his clothes, and hauled me to my feet.

  "I guess that's going to get harder to do in a few moons," he commented dryly, referring to hauling me to my feet.

  "I imagine it is. Good thing you're strong."

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  It was as if we held our breaths for the next five days. I had told Darkin and Jaron about the magical son we would have. They took the news as proof of what they had known since hearing about the prophecy. I found their ready acceptance unsettling. If someone had told me they were having a magical son, disregarding the wives of the Godling of course, I would say they were fooling themselves. That it was wishful thinking or a grandiose delusion, like thinking you were the Goddess Incarnate. I would either laugh at them or pity them. Or both. I would not do as my husbands had done: accept every word I said as indisputable truth.

  "You need to tell the rebels. It'll help their cause," Darkin had said as soon as he heard.

  "But what if it's not true. I mean, it'll be at least thirteen suncycles before we know for sure."

  "If you tell them you Know it'll be a magical son they'll believe you, because they've already determined that you're the one prophesied."

  I felt as if a noose was slowly closing around my neck. No matter what I wanted, I was to be the instrument of the Goddess' Will. Men would go to war to place me in a position of power, so magic could be freely available to all.

  Now I had to decide if I would willingly be that instrument. My baby edged me in that direction. This Knowing edged me in that direction. But it was still my decision. Our decision. Our lives being put on the line.

  I decided to wait until my mother was safe before doing anything about the rebels. She took precedence right now.

  Close to dusk on the fifth day a stranger arrived by beastling. He was a shaggy haired seaman from his appearance. His golden hair, bleached almost white from the sun, had silver threads of age through it. Craggy features, lined from too many days squinting into the sun lent truth to my supposition about his vocation. As did his skin, which was brown and leathered over a still-muscular and fit body. I would guess him to be in his forti
es, though his life had aged him to look older.

  At the stairs that led to our front door, he jumped agilely down from his aging beastling. I stood on the steps, ready to greet him. I Knew who he was.

  The look on the man's face when he saw me was painful to witness. It was as if he saw a ghost and had no idea how to handle it. Did he run? Did he embrace me? Did he fall down and cry?

  "I am Beyen, the fisherman. I've come to help rescue Jana. You look just like her. I thought you were her for a second there. But your eyes are a slightly different blue and your chin is firmer. You don't have her gentleness, I'd guess."

  I smiled. "No, I think we would all agree I'm not a gentle woman. I am Airsha, daughter of Jana. And I am grateful for your offer of assistance. We await news of the party transporting my mother to Westsealund. It will be a trap, I'm afraid. I cannot even be sure she will be in the party. But we will do what we can."

  As I'd spoken I'd walked down the stairs and taken the big man's hands in mine. This was my mother's childhood sweetheart. He would have been an unsuitable match, I could see that. Especially as the Godling had decided on her. I wondered who had been the one to single out my mother to be the Godling's wife? She would have latent magic, if I was right. But how had the Godling's advisors known that without seeing her?

  Questions, questions and more questions.

  "I have friends... rebels for the most part, who're coming to help us. They should be here tomorrow. They're not trained fighters, but they're strong and capable, all the same."

  "As soon as Calun gets back we will put the pieces of our plan together. I wish the rebel leaders would support us. But they don't see Mother as important. You would think they would consider the mother of the Goddess Incarnate as important." I huffed out the last part humorously.

  "The Goddess Incarnate should simply bat her eyelashes and the bad men should fall down dead," Jaron said, coming around the side of the house in that moment and hearing my comment. He loved poking fun at my elevated status now we had all accepted it.

  "If I bat my eyelashes would you fall down dead?" I asked sweetly.

  Beyen looked a little shocked by our exchange. I held out my hand and Jaron came to my side, wrapping his sweaty arm around my waist and kissing the side of my head.

  "Beyen, this is Jaron. One of my husbands."

  "One of your husbands?" He tried not to sound shocked, but failed badly.

  "Yes. I have four. Having a harem is common among Elemental Mistresses, I've been told. Although mine formed before I knew that. They're all brothers, you see."

  "The Airluds. Jana's brother told me. I didn't realise they were all your... husbands."

  "You have heard of them? We hope to use some of the airlings in our rescue attempt. They're happy to help in this."

  "So it's true? You can talk to the airlings?" Beyen directed this question to Jaron.

  "My brother can. He's with them now, collecting information on Jana's transport."

  At that moment I heard a cry from the back of the house. Jaron looked skyward and pointed to dark shapes on the horizon.

  "Calun?" I asked, though I already knew. The airlings were moving fast toward us.

  "Speak of the demon. I think our plans are about to fully take shape now," Jaron said with a big smile, though there was tension in his muscles.

  While we watched, Darkin and Rama joined us. I introduced Beyen, and he acknowledged my men with a little awe. More than he had shown me. The stories of the Airluds must have spread further than I'd known.

  In the time it took to make the introductions, Calun and his airlings, three of them, were circling and coming in to land. I raced to him in excitement. He grabbed me up as soon as he dismounted, hugging me tightly and kissing my mouth as if he thought to never do it again.

  It had been too long. I'd missed him. Missed our connection like I'd miss a limb. Our minds became one and I instantly had the information he wished to share with the others. And he knew about the baby.

  'You accept it now? I'm glad. Glad for Rama, too.'

  I kissed him again. I had expected him to take the news well, just as all but Rama had done. But even Rama had softened, now we knew it was a magical son. That seemed to make all the difference. Of course, a bad man with magical powers would be much more dangerous than an ordinary bad man. Magic did not make a person good. But I was determined our son would not be bad. He would have four fathers who would love him and guide his way. With that kind of influence he would have to be a wonderful person.

  I drew back from those thoughts and focused on Mother. I turned to the others and quickly recapped what I had seen in Calun's mind.

  "There's a small party of four armed men with a carriage five days east of here, heading for Westsealund. There are two more parties, one ahead and one behind the first. The one behind has six men and a slow wagon. They're dressed like ordinary men but they move like troopers. The four ahead, with pack beastlings, are the same. While the roads are busy, traffic moving faster or slower than my mother's party, those two groups remain a consistent distance from the official detail."

  "Any sign of Jana?" Beyen asked anxiously.

  "Yes. She was seen relieving herself in the bushes along the way. No other women accompany her and she is not tied in any way. My father knows my mother well. She would not try to escape. Even if she knows she's going to her death she wouldn't try to escape," I said.

  Beyen shook his head in distress. "She wouldn't even try to fight for us. I knew she loved me, but when her father said she had to marry the Godling that put an end to it. To us. I hated her for giving in so easily. I would've taken her away. I would've given her a good life."

  "My mother is a dutiful woman. It is who she is. What she wants for herself comes second to family duty. I was furious with her when she so easily accepted I would be sacrificed. I thought she was content to see me die to preserve her position. But that wasn't it at all. She accepted losing me like she accepted losing my brother and you, Beyen. And her family, too. I would have wondered if she has any personal desires left if not for the last time I saw her. She dragged on the guard's arm, hysterical with worry, trying to stop him taking me to that hole. It was like... like she had been backed into a corner a little at a time her whole life, and finally she couldn't go any further. So she fought for me. To no avail, of course."

  Beyen nodded, tears in his blue eyes. "It's time she came first."

  I nodded, knowing with all my heart that I wanted that to be true. I would make it be true!

  "Can we do this?" I looked at my men.

  "Fourteen men. Easy!" Jaron declared with a cocky smirk.

  Darkin slapped him up the back of the head. "Not easy. But we have an Air Mistress, a flock of airlings and at least five strong men,"

  "Beyen has more men if we need them. Nouhan may have more by now, too," I added.

  "Then let's start doing some serious planning," Darkin said, rubbing his hands together delightedly. He'd hated having to wait, as we'd been doing for five interminably long days. Now he could do what he did best: plan.

  "We have five days before they reach the closest point to us; six until they reach Westsealund. I think we should take them before they get too close to us. But, more importantly, we need to pick the best place for an ambush."

  And so we planned, using the big map Beyen had brought with him, courtesy of Nouhan.

  The two extra groups of disguised troopers rode far enough from Mother's transport to not be noticeably part of it, but close enough to be able to reach the detail fast if and when an attack came. One of the things that gave them away, Calun told us, was the mounts they rode. They were finer quality beastlings than travellers or merchants would have ridden. Only the wagon and the pack beastlings were slow, lumbering creatures.

  "The land is very flat the whole way to Westsealund territory. But there are outcrops of rocks along the way, the biggest collection seem to be here," I said as Calun pointed to the location on the map. "They're large enou
gh to hide beastlings, airlings and our party."

  "The wild airlings can be directed over the party at the rear. I've designed packs for some of them to carry. We can load them with rocks, as heavy as a man, and Airsha can use her magic to release the loads when they reach their target," Rama explained to those who were not already aware of his ingenious contraptions.

  I had been party to the experiments over the last few days. My job was to direct a thin, powerful jet of air at a lever on the back of a packed airling, which released the rocks from either side of the airling. Within seconds the rocks would hit the ground. We had practiced the drops until they were precisely placed. It meant the airlings had to be spread out from each other so I had time to work my magic, one at a time, as they flew over the troopers.

  If I was behind the spot where my mother's transport would pass, I could singlehandedly bombard the larger party following. What men escaped the rocks uninjured, I could stop by causing a windstorm. This I could do once the last barrage was over and the airlings were out of the way.

  Beyen and his men would lay in wait half way between my mother's transport and the men travelling ahead. When they saw the Airluds attack the transport, the troopers would ride back to enter the fray. Beyen's men would have rope hidden in the dust. They would pull it tight when the men rode back, tripping the beastlings and sending the riders to the ground. Before they could recover, Beyen's men would make short work of them with the weapons they had accumulated.

  That left my men to handle the four troopers in the transport. They would ride down on the airlings, shooting arrows as they had been taught to do by the Godling army, and take out as many as they could that way. Then they'd land and fight, if they had to, to end the last of them.

  If we all did our jobs well we should succeed.

  I drew in a deep breath and prayed to the Goddess I would be up to the challenge. I would have preferred to have gone into the fight using the skills I had learned from the instructors of the youths-in-training, but my husbands were adamant that I not deal directly with the enemy. I was not a trooper or soldier; I was a pregnant Goddess Incarnate who manipulated magic. I was much more useful using my magic than any fighter would be.

 

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