"I already washed all of Mikhail's shirts," Ninsianna sighed. "I have nothing with his scent on it except for a few of his molted feathers."
"Goddess knows he drops enough of those all over the house!" Mama laughed.
"I wish I'd had the foresight to gather them up when he went through the molt this past summer!" Ninsianna said. "For a few weeks I swear he took on the appearance of a plucked eaglet."
"Then next summer you must make a sack," Mama said, "so you can gather up all those soft little under-feathers to make yourself a pillow. It would keep them out of our food!"
Mama mimed the face Ninsianna made whenever she had to pick a pinfeather out of their supper and deposit it on the side of her plate. Ninsianna laughed. It was good to share this time together. Lately their relationship had been strained.
"How is Namhu?" Mama asked.
"He snitched a pot of fava beans that sat out the past two nights and fed them to his friends," Ninsianna said.
"Did you give him the tea of caraway, black seed, and asafetida?" Mama asked. She gestured to some neatly tied bundles of dried herbs which hung from the rafters of their large, multi-purpose room.
"Yes," Ninsianna said. "As well as an infusion of spirit-light to speed his healing. And I induced the vomit, to purge his stomach of its contents."
"What of the spirit songs?" Mama asked. "Your Papa would transmute the poison by singing the song of banishment."
Ninsianna could not meet her mother's eyes.
"That black shadow cat was at the entrance to the dark path," Ninsianna shivered, "waiting for me to travel down it."
"You must stop thinking of it as a path,” Mama said. "The person is sick. You simply allow yourself to feel their pain, and then picture how your body would fight that illness. There are no dark pathways involved."
Ninsianna shuddered. Perhaps it was a blessing her Mama couldn’t see what she invited into her spirit light each time she used her gift of healing? Ninsianna changed the topic of conversation before her Mama decided to drill her on her shortcomings as a healer.
"I have some bandages I need to wash in the river," Ninsianna rose from the table. "And I would like to bathe before I go to bed."
She helped Mama gather up the bowls and deposit them into the woven basket lined with goat-skin to make it waterproof for washing.
"Be certain you don't get eaten by a crocodile!" Mama said. "With fewer warriors to jab at them with spears, the accursed creatures grow bold."
"I will carry my bow," Ninsianna said.
"And your knife." Mama scooped up the heavy obsidian blade Ninsianna had left on the table and handed it to her, hilt forward. "A bow is too unwieldy to use in an unexpected fight."
Ninsianna scrunched up her nose and refused to take it.
"Would you like me to carry my spear, as well, Mama?" Ninsianna's golden eyes sparkled with laughter. "If I carry anything more I shall have no room in the basket for the dirty bandages!"
Mama pursed her lips into that disapproving mother look all mothers had when their daughters were being stubborn. The one that made you wish they'd thrash you rather than endure their silent admonition.
"Better to carry many weapons, daughter," Mama scolded, "than to be kidnapped by our enemies and sold to the lizard demons as a slave."
"They would not dare come at us again!" Ninsianna's chin jutted proudly. "They lost hundreds during the last raid. I doubt there is a single Halifian left who would dare take on Mikhail!"
"What will your husband say if he finds out you put yourself at risk?" Mama's brow furrowed with worry. "All of Assur protected the wall the last time they came at us, and yet they sent a raiding party into the village to kidnap you to get to him. -You- are his only weakness."
"The only reason they found their way inside our walls is because Jamin betrayed us to our enemies," Ninsianna said. "The Chief has taken steps to fortify our defenses."
"And you are going outside those walls." Mama shook the blade at her once more. "Where our defenses are not so tight. Siamek is too busy patrolling the perimeter to babysit one, stubborn Angelic's wife!"
Mama was, as always, frustratingly, maddeningly right. Ninsianna slipped her blade into the basket and made her way through the village, out the narrow alley which served as their northern gate, and down the steep embankment to reach the sacred Hiddekel River which kept Assur alive despite its placement in the middle of an unforgiving desert. With a sigh, she unwrapped the long, fringed shawl all Ubaid women draped around themselves to make a shawl-dress and waded into the cold water wearing only her loincloth.
One by one she cast the slender strips of linen they used as bandages into the current like slender war banners to be cleansed, and then dumped them back into the basket, wringing them out just enough so her basket would not be too heavy. Before she could use them again, she would need to boil them, but that would wait until tomorrow! With a sigh, she sank into the cold water and lathered up her hair with soap root. As she did, she scanned the surface for signs of a 'log' with eyes. Perhaps she should have brought that spear, after all?
No! Ever since the chief's son had been banished, Ninsianna found herself shunning the weapon Jamin had taught her to use in favor of the archery taught by Mikhail. Her lips curved up in a smile at the memory of that first delightful lesson. She closed her eyes and visualized she could see him now, tracing the threads which connected all living creatures, especially those who knew each other intimately, until she could see her husband sitting amongst the regional chiefs, haggling to get his treaty. Ninsianna smiled. If there was anything her husband hated, it was to be forced into the center of attention. His spirit light looked … aggravated.
"I miss him, Mother." Ninsianna said to the goddess who ruled All-that-is. "I hope he gets these mutual aid agreements from the other chiefs so we can spend more time at his sky canoe."
She envisioned what it felt like to fall asleep in Mikhail's arms, his hard body, his soft wings, and the oh-so-tender heart he hid beneath an unreadable expression. Mikhail had been an answer to a prayer, a winged god who had fallen from the sky after she'd pleaded with the goddess for an alternative to forced marriage to Jamin. And soon … together they would have a child. She ran her hand over her growing midsection, sensing the child who grew there was special, and pictured what it would be like when Mikhail finally held his son.
She paused to listen for wisdom from the goddess, but for the past few days, the She-who-is had felt oh-so-far away. She rose from the river, dried off, and grabbed her stone blade from the basket and slipped it into the rawhide which held up her loincloth. Wrapping her long, fringed shawl around her waist and belting it to remake her dress, she struggled up the embankment carrying her wet basket of bandages, her legs sinking into the yellow ochre that was prized by potters for many miles around.
She realized as she struggled up the hill that someone stood at the crest, patiently waiting for her to ascend. The moment she recognized who it was, her eyes turned copper with anger.
"Did you need something, Shahla?" Ninsianna's voice dripped venom. "Or have you come to tell me that Mikhail's baby spoke her first words?"
The child in question did not exist. The village harlot had become pregnant by goddess-only-knows which warrior and, when her plan to entrap the Chief's son into marriage failed, she had turned her viperous tongue on Jamin's chief rival to claim Mikhail had fathered the child instead! Jamin had been so incensed that he had beaten the woman until she had miscarried, a violence which had resulted in his banishment from the village. So now Shahla wandered the village, hair matted and clothing torn, carrying a rag doll she claimed was Mikhail's daughter and telling everyone who would listen that someday he would carry her into the heavens to be his queen.
Hmpf!
"Be kind to a bird with a broken wing," Mama had scolded her when she'd said one day she'd like to use dark magic to strike the woman dead. "Even the most darkened creature has a role to play in the game of All-That-Is."
&
nbsp; Shahla grabbed the basket out of Ninsianna's hand.
"Siamek sent me to fetch you." Shahla said. "Tirdard fell down some rocks while hunting a gazelle and broke his leg."
“Mama is better at that kind of thing than me.” Ninsianna sniffed. “Go fetch Mama and offer to help her carry her supplies.”
“No!” Shahla grabbed her arm. “Siamek asked me to fetch you. It will be dark soon. If you don’t set the bone, Tirdard will have to spend the night out in the desert.”
There was no way Ninsianna would ever trust Shahla at her word, but as the Chosen of She-who-is, there were ways to peek into another person's sprit light and ascertain the truth, ways she had learned from her father. Ninsianna softened her gaze until she could pluck out of Shahla's mind the images of what truly troubled her. What she saw were not the usual disjointed daydreams of men with wings or rag-doll babies, but a gruesome image of poor Tirdard laying in a pile of rocks, yelping with his leg-bone sticking through his skin.
“Okay,” Ninsianna sighed. “I will do for him what I can.” She pulled her red wool cape across her shoulders, thankful she had brought it to fend off the autumn chill. It had been a gift from a far-off tribe, elaborately embroidered, and was a deep shade of scarlet no Ubaid dye had ever achieved. There was none like it in the entire village, and when she wore the coveted gift, it marked her as a very high-ranking woman indeed.
"This way!" Shahla called. She carried Ninsianna’s basket upriver, winding through the levied fields and date-palm orchards where dirt had been piled to stave off the rising winter flood. The young woman's spirit light glowed pink with happiness the further they got from the village. They crossed a stone cairn which marked the outermost ring of fields the Assurians claimed as their own.
Ninsianna hesitated. They had journeyed beyond the point which Siamek and the other warriors patrolled.
"How much further, Shahla?"
A shadow stepped out from behind a rock. At first Ninsianna thought it was her husband, impossibly tall and dressed in the same strange foreign outfit Mikhail called a uniform, his raven-black hair silhouetted against the setting sun. The illusion was only momentary as she realized the man was olive-skinned and did not possess a pair of wings.
"Jamin?" Ninsianna squeaked with surprise. Shock gave way to fear as she realized the Chief's disgraced son had defied his banishment to traverse onto Assurian land. She yanked her bow over her head and tried to reach for an arrow to shoot him, but Jamin clenched her wrist and wrenched the weapon out of her hand.
"How could you?" Ninsianna shrieked at Shahla. "I thought he was your enemy?"
"Stop fighting me," Jamin hissed. "You'll only make things worse."
"Mikhail will smite you for daring to lay a hand upon me," Ninsianna fought him. "Let … me …. go!"
Jamin imprisoned her against his body, a wall of muscle, not as powerful as Mikhail, but the most powerful man in all of Ubaid territory. Why had Shahla led her here? To the man who had beaten her and caused her to miscarry her baby?
A throb of power, so palpable it shuddered through her too-sensitive sixth sense the way a mortal might hear a rumble of thunder, caused her to look up. A pair of white wings blotted out the dying rays of the setting sun. The air filled with the rustle of feathers as the Angelic slid down from the sky, so pale and beautiful that for a moment it looked as though he was the sunlight, the vision that for the past year had inhabited her nightmares.
The Evil One!
"Let me go!" Ninsianna tugged frantically against Jamin's grip. Her heart pounded in her throat as memory of her horrific vision screamed for every muscle to run.
The Evil One artfully draped his wings across his back, as graceful as a lily unfolding in the sun, and moved towards her like a stalking lion, tall, graceful, a predator even amongst other predators. He was a bit less muscular than her husband, but tall and perfectly formed, with pale skin, white-blonde hair, chiseled features, and the most beautiful silver eyes she had ever seen; but beneath those eyes, she could see his spirit-light burned with fire.
Shahla ran up to the Evil One and threw herself into his arms.
"You have done well, my beautiful bride," the Evil One said to Shahla. He flashed a smile which showcased perfectly straight teeth. He glanced up and made eye contact with Ninsianna. Beneath his false smile she could see the echo of fangs.
'Run, run, run, run…' Ninsianna thought frantically to herself, but her body refused to obey.
The Evil One nuzzled Shahla's neck and whispered into her ear.
"Anything!" Shahla's face glowed radiantly happy. "And then you will take me to see the stars?"
Ninsianna stared into the Evil One's spirit light to search for an advantage. Although he kissed Shahla the way one might greet their beloved, his piss-puke-putrid green darkness swirled around the disturbed young woman and fed upon her illness like a leech. What Shahla perceived as warmth would soon consume her!
The Evil One pulled the promiscuous young woman against his tall, lean frame and thrust his pelvis against her belly in a gesture which could only be interpreted as a promise of things to come. Even from here Ninsianna could see the Evil One sported an erection that would put even her husband to shame. Shahla giggled.
"Soon." The Evil One stared straight at Ninsianna as he caressed Shahla's chin between his thumb and forefinger. "Soon I shall replace the one that this one's husband stole from you. But first … we must make sure he does not steal your baby from you again."
"Mikhail didn't cause Shahla to miscarry," Ninsianna said. "It was Jamin who beat her." She shot an accusatory glare at the black-eyed man who held her wrist.
"And for that I am truly sorry." Jamin's expression was strangely apologetic. "But I was not the one who put that child into her belly in the first place. Nor did I hide my guilt by burying the evidence someplace where Shahla could not grieve for it."
"The child was not his," Ninsianna hissed.
Jamin leaned so close his nose nearly touched hers. His black eyes bored into her, nothing able to hide from his perceptive gaze.
"And how do you know the child was not his?" Jamin said. "She believes it to be true! And every man in the village saw her proposition him about the same time that infant would have been conceived!"
A noise like a swarm of locusts mixed with the roar of a sandstorm passed overhead. Two sky canoes, unlike Mikhail's, descended to the earth like squat, fat beetles next to a third, slender sky canoe which she had failed to notice until after Jamin had grabbed her. The ships cracked open. Out spilled creatures of nightmare just as her vision had foretold, lizard demons, giant boars, blue men, and a smattering of other demons. One stepped forward, larger and fatter than the others, wearing jeweled robes to converse with the Evil One in a strange, hissing language.
"Are your men in position to hit them?" the Evil One asked the fat lizard king.
"As soon as you lure the Angelic into the trap," the lizard king rubbed his claws together, "our ships will hit the trouble makers and kill the leaders in a single raid."
Ninsianna listened with horror. To creatures who could shoot with firesticks from the sky, the sizeable contingent of warriors each Ubaid chief had brought with them as protection would merely add to their casualties. She glanced over at Shahla.
"Don't do this, Shahla," Ninsianna pleaded. "Please! Don't you understand what they're about to do? We are your people!"
Shahla's eyes were filled with happiness as she watched her so-called 'husband' plan their people's destruction. Unlike Ninsianna, who possessed the gift of tongues, Shahla was unable to translate what was really being said.
"And how will you lure the Angelic to come for her?" the fat lizard king asked.
The Evil One gave Ninsianna a predatory grin.
"I find it curious the Colonel has not already sensed her distress," the Evil One said. He stepped close enough to tower over Ninsianna.
Ninsianna stood unable to force her body to move even though Jamin’s grip had loosened. She felt
the violation of her mind, thoughts, emotions, memories plucked from her head like ripened fruit from a tree. She tried to block him and was helpless to prevent the intrusion. The Evil One tilted his head closer, his pale skin, his white-blonde hair, his cruel lips so close she thought for a moment he might kiss her.
His nostrils flared.
He sniffed her neck.
An image danced into her mind.
Even as one part of her mind shouted no, that Mikhail was her husband; an older, more primal part of her responded to the Evil One’s seduction, causing her lips to part as the mere thought of being made love to by such magnificent creature caused warmth to gush from between her thighs. A small, guttural cry of pleasure escaped her lips. Shame flooded her cheeks as she realized what the Evil One had just made her do. His eerie silver eyes glittered with satisfaction as he switched languages to speak to her in the language of the Angelics.
"Does your husband know you have not returned his bond of eternal love, flawed mortal?" The Evil One laughed. "She-who-is should have known better than to tempt HIS mortal vessel with a creation as flawed as SHE is."
He gestured towards Jamin whose hand had tightened so firmly she feared her wrist might break. "You would have done better to have stuck with that one. Had you not spurned him, he would have defended you unto his dying breath and still left you with a champion who was not weakened by his bond."
"Mikhail will smite you," Ninsianna hissed in the Evil One's language. “He will run you though with his sword.”
The Evil One’s lips curved up in a cruel smile. He gestured to the two cold-eyed goons who had accompanied him here and barked orders at them in a language which seemed familiar, but she could not understand. Her gift of tongues no longer worked? No. The language they spoke was even older than the languages created by the goddess. The two goons held her arms outwards like a sacrificial offering.
"Jamin!" Ninsianna projected images into Jamin’s mind of the time she had healed him. "Don't do this! You have to know this is wrong!"
Sword of the Gods: Agents of Ki (Sword of the Gods Saga) Page 3
