Sword of the Gods: Agents of Ki (Sword of the Gods Saga)

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Sword of the Gods: Agents of Ki (Sword of the Gods Saga) Page 97

by Anna Erishkigal


  ‘Eh-ek?” the pod matriarch asked.

  It was universal inquiry into his state of being.

  All around them, other aquatic mammals nudged at his wings and took turns making sure he was cognizant enough to stay above the water, for even Leviathans needed to surface to breathe. Leviathan. Leviathan. It had been a long time since he'd had occasion to speak any Leviathan … if that was, as he suspected, a sister-language to what these creatures spoke.

  “Click.click.squeeee,” Mikhail said as best he could. If his memory served him properly, it meant, 'I'm okay.'

  The matriarch tilted her nose and regarded him with confusion. She repeated back exactly what he'd said, the way one might a foreigner who had just butchered your language. Self-doubt began to eat at him. Had he said 'I'm okay,' or something peculiar such as 'I'd like to eat some squid?'

  The creature's dark eyes sparkled with humor. She repeated what he had just said, but with the proper intonation this time. All around her, the other sea creatures stuck their head above the water and chattered like eager children, eager to take turns to see if they could make him understand. He had the distinct feeling the matriarch laughed at him, but it was not a malicious laugh, but rather one of amusement at his poor grasp of their language. At last she barked, and the other leviathan-like creatures grew silent, bobbing in and out of the water as they all watched to see what he would do.

  “Rumble.whirrrrrr.squeeee,” the matriarch gestured towards the shore with her long nose. Land. These creatures had brought him as close to land as they dared to swim. It was up to him now to swim the rest of the way.

  “I’m okay, thanks to you, my friend,” Mikhail translated into Leviathan as best he could. He then pointed to himself. "Mikhail," and then pointed to the matriarch. “Nnn.mmm.nnn.mmmm?”

  He had to ask the question two more times until the matriarch understood and gave him a name which meant absolutely nothing to him, but as she spoke it, the other leviathans all nodded their heads. One by one, the others did the same.

  “[Snort].click.rrrrrr.n.” The matriarch nudged him towards the shore. “Mk.[swallowgrunt].lllllll.”

  Mk.[swallowgrunt].lllllll. The matriarch pronounced his name. She gave him a pleased grin, exposing dozens of small, sharp teeth, an adaptation to catching fish in the wild. It was time for him to save his own tailfeathers.

  Mikhail thanked the creatures for rescuing him to the best of his ability. Purebred Leviathans did not fare well on dry land because they lacked the strong upper bodies and long arms of the Merfolk which enabled them to drag themselves back into the water. If they became stranded, they would be easy prey until the tide came back in.

  “Thank you,” he said in his best, butchered approximation of the Leviathan language, “Grrrrrr.k.[thrum]." Their language had not changed much, he suspected, because there were only so many sounds which would carry long distance beneath the water.

  “Squeee.click.grrrrr,” the matriarch squealed. In a show of what he could only call pure joy, the Levi-like creatures reared up out of the water onto their tails, stayed suspended upon the surface for a moment, and then dove back in, squealing with delight.

  Mikhail swam to the shore, dragging his soggy, leaden wet wings behind him as he crawled above the water line and collapsed, too exhausted to move another meter. He rolled over just enough to raise an arm of gratitude to his new friends and shout “goodbye!”

  The aquatic mammals dove into the water and were gone. Darkness took him and he went once more to the place beneath the tree.

  ~ * ~ * ~

  Chapter 98

  February: 3,389 BC

  Earth: Village of Assur

  Pareesa

  Pareesa's orders had been clear. Provide just enough resistance so the lizard demons would surge through the narrow alley which comprised Assur's south gate, but not so much that the creatures felt compelled to summon the lightning which could vaporize Assur's entire wall. She handed up what arrows she'd been able to salvage from the rooftop she'd just abandoned before scurrying up to rejoin the other archers.

  "Help her pull up the ladder!" Alalah gestured to Kiana and Homa.

  The girls crawled over on their hands and knees to help her, their heads kept low to avoid being killed by one of the small blue bolts of lightning. Because the village was built upon a hill, this first-ring rooftop was slightly higher than the ones they'd just abandoned. Behind them the walls of the second ring rose above them nearly a story higher. The rings themselves had been laid out so an enemy could not simply march up the hill, but had to travel sideways before passing through a second alley.

  "This thing is heavy," Pareesa grunted as she labored to pull up the knobby tree trunk ladder.

  "Keep pulling!" Kiana hissed. "So I can get my hands on the next rung."

  A bolt of blue lightning flew past Pareesa's head and blew mud-bricks out of the back-wall of the house built behind them. Homa shrieked. Kiana just barely grabbed the ladder before it fell to the ground.

  "Goatshit!!!"

  "Stay down!" Alalah shouted at them.

  Pareesa pressed her face into the roof-struts and inhaled the scent of moldy reeds. Sheesh that had been a close call! She gasped for breath. Her heart pounded so rapidly it was a wonder it didn't burst out of her chest and offer itself up to be an arrow!

  "Help me!" Kiana whispered.

  Pareesa pushed herself up to her elbows, cautiously peeking over the edge of the roof. This time, they kept their heads down as they pulled the ladder up and crawled across the thick, semi-waterproof lattice of slender poles, sticks, river reeds and mud.

  The outer entrance to the village had been deliberately built between two houses to force a man or beast to walk no greater than two abreast. It was a long, slender alley, with two featureless mud-brick walls on either side, perhaps 18 cubits long and 14 cubits high. Perched precariously along the crenellations sat a series of large clay pots.

  The lizard demon's shouts and hisses grew louder as they amassed just outside the shattered gate. The archers huddled together and strung their arrows, whispering like nervous little ducklings.

  "They ready themselves to come through as a group," Homa said. "Just like Mikhail said they would."

  "I pray they really are almost out of magic!" Gisou said.

  "They don't act like they're almost out of magic," Homa said.

  Both women looked at her.

  "Mikhail said it makes no sense they have not tried to defeat us directly before," Pareesa said, "unless their magic is just as low as his."

  "I wish I had a firestick," Yadiditum said. The curvy beauty mimed taking aim with a firestick. "No need to even draw the bow. Just aim the firestick and boom! Let the lightning fly."

  "Even you could hit the enemy with one of those," Gisou teased her. Yadiditum possessed many gifts, but being an excellent markswoman was not one of them.

  "If they have those," Yadiditum crinkled up her aquiline nose, "I just can't understand why this dragon god doesn't give his warriors more magic instead of making them diddle around with swords?"

  "Mikhail says the old dragon is cheap," Pareesa said. "The firestick magic costs a lot of gold, so he expends it as little as he can."

  All three women snorted with macabre humor.

  "You mean he is just as cheap as the chief?" Homa asked.

  "Cheaper!" Pareesa laughed. She glanced back at the amassing soldiers and her humor disappeared. "Well, I guess cheap is relative."

  Alalah crept towards them, arm over arm on her elbows like a serpent. As the eldest of this archer squad, technically she was in charge.

  "Remember," Alalah said. "The goal is to get them to waste their magic before they break into the second ring. Shoot erratically so they don't detect any pattern to your movements. Get them to fire at you, but don't take any chances with your lives.

  Pareesa strung an arrow and popped her head up just high enough to take aim at the monsters who prepared to move. The other archers did as she did, preparing t
o shoot blindly into the alley. If they could see the lizard demons well enough to take a direct shot, the lizard demons could see them to kill them with their lightning.

  There was a tense moment, and then the enemy rushed forward.

  "Shoot!" Pareesa shouted.

  All seven women bobbed upwards and let their arrows fly.

  The firesticks shot back at them. Yadiditum screamed a horrible, painful cry as one of the shots burned into her shoulder.

  "Keep shooting!" Alalah shouted. "We can't let them get through."

  Pareesa hit a pig-man in the chest, and then one of the burly blue men. This first wave of enemy seemed to be other demons, all of them hideous and bizarre. Pareesa popped up again, taking her shot as soon as her eye told her where to aim. She crouched down before she could even see whether she'd hit the target. All around her, the other archers did the same, but the real line of defense had not yet begun to shoot their arrows.

  "Keep them in the alley!" Pareesa shouted.

  On the rooftop behind them crouched old-Behnam and his firepot, the eighth archer and best shot in the village, despite his age, after her and Mikhail. As an elder, he'd been charged not just with taking this special shot, but also the secret magic Mikhail had shared only with a few. With a faint whistle, Behnam's first arrow arched upwards, and then arched down again, straight towards one of the jars perched precariously on the edge of the alley wall.

  The arrow hit the first jar.

  The jar fell over, knocking its contents down into the alleyway below.

  "Keep shooting at them!" Pareesa shouted. "We have to distract them from taking shots at Behnam!"

  The women provided blind cover fire, barely glancing up to take aim, raining down arrows so the lizards shot at them.

  One by one, Behnam knocked the jars into the alley. Pareesa could not help him because their perch sat at the wrong angle to take the shot without exposing herself fully, but old Behnam's aim was true. It never occurred to the enemy the shards of broken pottery were a threat as they fell down onto the ground.

  Pareesa watched eagerly like a vulture watching a crocodile awaiting prey to come and take a drink. Behnam's last arrow flew off of the rooftop behind them, trailing black smoke as it flew towards the sticky substance left behind by the falling pots.

  "This is it," Kiana gripped her hand.

  The fiery arrow dropped into the black, sticky mixture of pine resin, burnt chalk, sticky tar from the sand, brimstone, and an extract from well-composted shit-and-piss laden bedding from the goat sheds like a small, red bird landing in a field.

  Hellfire erupted in the alley. The lizard demons screamed as the substance ignited into a conflagration unlike anything Pareesa had ever seen before. The Ubaid cheered. Flames licked up the walls, burning anything onto which had splattered even a few drops. The invaders rushed forward, trying to escape what Mikhail called The Kill Box.

  "Shoot them!" Chief Kiyan's voice was heard from the upper wall.

  Dozens of arrows flew off the next higher level of rooftops, killing any enemy who tried to escape the alley by running forward. The walls on either side of them blocked their escape, and behind them the liquid fire burned them alive.

  The stench of smoke and cooked meat wafted their way, reminding Pareesa she hadn't had any breakfast. A blue-man rushed forward, knelt down, and leveled off his firestick at the archers on the upper wall. Pareesa popped up and took a direct shot, then dove down again. One by one, the Assurians picked off any man who tried to rush through. Mikhail claimed fire magic was a common part of any defensive strategy, but he'd hoped the lizard demons would be so cocky they would underestimate them, and so they had.

  At last the flames from the clay pots began to subside. The enemy regrouped into a second wave. This time, no matter how many arrows the Assurians fired at them, it was inadequate to prevent the enemy from getting through. A fat pig-man strode forward carrying a device that looked like an enormous tube kneeled mid-way through the alley and hoisted the device onto his shoulder.

  "What is that?" Gisou asked.

  "Trouble," Pareesa said.

  Both women shot at the pig-man, but he was so far back in the alley that neither arrow hit the mark.

  "Damantia!" Pareesa cursed.

  *Woompf*

  A big, fat fire-arrow catapulted out of the enormous tube and flew over her head, trailing smoke and sparks. It slammed into the wall just beneath the upper rooftops where the second line of archers stood. The wall behind her exploded into an avalanche of dust and rubble.

  "Goatshit!" Pareesa threw her arms over her head.

  The men on top of that roof screamed and several fell to their death. Bits of flaming rubble rained down onto Pareesa's head.

  "Fall back to the second ring!" the Chief bellowed from above.

  The archers gathered their remaining arrows and crept along the rooftops until they came to a safe place to ascend. Homa gripped Pareesa's hand and helped her over the edge. The archers lay in each other's arms, panting with a mixture of terror and exhilaration.

  "Goatshit, that was spectacular!" Gisou giggled like a hyena.

  "What did Mikhail call that magical potion again?" Homa asked.

  Pareesa struggled to pronounce the unfamiliar word.

  'Napalm.'

  ~ * ~ * ~

  Chapter 99

  February: 3,389 BC

  Earth: Village of Assur

  Jamin

  Jamin clung to the shadows as he used his knowledge of the village to scurry down from the rooftops and work his way up into the second ring. He could feel Lucifer inside his head, for the creature that lived within him had made his mark upon him, taken him for himself, and Jamin had given himself willingly to the demon, had walked knowingly into the fire to burn along his side. And yet…

  His hand slid down to touch the treasure box he'd slipped into the pocket of his long, Sata'anic trench coat. A thought fought to come to the surface, but no. Whatever it was, it danced right out of his mind.

  Instead he laid his hand upon his pulse rifle. If Mikhail had found a new source of magic for his firestick, then there was no dishonor in meeting him with such a weapon. It had been the awesome power of the pulse cannon which met with his disfavor, for as eager as he'd been to take down Assur's walls, that wall was an obstacle, an inanimate obstacle to be taken down and destroyed. The pulse cannon was a tool, like a team of men wielding stone axes or wooden digging sticks. To kill a man in his sleep with such a weapon, however, nay … that kind of killing lay ugly on his palate.

  So where was Mikhail? He watched the skies, but saw no sign of a dark-winged shadow silhouetted against the dawn. Where were the gunships that were supposed to provide cover fire for his Sata'anic friends? Both vessels had simply disappeared.

  An explosion sounded from the south gate. With or without a gunship, the lizard people were launching their offensive. Soon, his people would submit to Sata'anic rule … or die. If they submitted, they would learn to read and increase their crops. If they submitted, they would receive medicine which would wipe out disease. If they submitted, Ubaid women would submit to their husbands, and support them wholeheartedly, instead of spurning them on a whim.

  The compulsion Lucifer had laid upon his mind whispered to him and taunted his self-delusion.

  'Go smite those who have done you wrong, chol beag…'

  Bitter memories rang sour in Jamin's ears, echoing until they drowned out the sound of pulse rifles being fired at the Assurians from the south gate of the village.

  'What is the sentence of the tribunal?'

  'Permanent banishment.'

  'Banishment.'

  'Banishment.'

  He covered his ears and ran until the voices stopped tormenting him, the voices from his past which reminded him of his sins. He blinked and realized where he stood. The widow-sisters house smelled lightly of fermenting beer, but there was yet no scent of baking bread due to the attack upon their village.

  He stared at the d
oor, an old, tired door, worn from too much use just like the two old women who lived behind it. He looked for Shahla's ghost, but she had not returned since the day he had spared Qishtea a death-blow. Where was she, this girlfriend he had spurned? And oh, how much he wished to see her again so he could remind himself that he had brought his fate down upon himself!

  He turned to leave, but the voices started up again, the voices which tormented his mind.

  “What is the sentence of the tribunal?”

  “Banishment. Banishment. Banishment…"

  "Get out of my head!" Jamin shouted at the Devourer of Children.

  'If you truly wish to rule this world, you must make your enemy suffer...'

  He turned to leave, but as he did, he stared at his own hand, but it was no longer his hand, but the hand of an all-powerful god.

  Entire worlds sprang from the primordial goo with a twist of his hand, endless stars and the universes which birthed them, planets, oceans, animals and people. He showed him what it felt like to create two species and pit them against one another just to see which one would be the victor. He showed him species he'd shaped exclusively to hunt, for the hunt amused him, and others he'd shaped as prey. Entire universes grew, but he hungered for more until the building blocks had been consumed. He ate the galaxies. He ate the stars. He ate the planets. And he ate the creatures he had created to give him an endless supply of food.

  Oh, gods he was hungry! But he knew not what he hungered for!

  He slipped his hand into his pocket and came once more upon his mother's treasure box, a small box, a black box, cool to the touch and reassuring. He slipped it out of his pocket to study the peculiar symbols carved into it which even the Sata'anic tek-no-lo-gee had been unable to translate. Something niggled at his subconscious. Something his mother had wanted him to always remember. He opened the lid and took out the small white feather which he'd placed there to remind him of his dreams.

 

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