“I was not hungry,” she managed in a weak voice full of despair.
Provender had been optional, not a requirement. Rather than draw out the interview with meaningless talk, Jubal allowed Truth Speak to play in his mind, summoning the potential.
Only he could see his indigo aura, him being the only Nephilim in the room, yet somehow the object of his focus seemed to realize what was about to happen.
She threw her hands up to protect her face, or would have if Cassi had not quickly grabbed her wrists. “Will it hurt?” The cook begged to know.
It was not a meaningless question so Jubal chose to respond. “The Aaka is physically painless.”
“Do it,” she said, as if she had a choice and then her eyes hardened. “I am not afraid of the truth.”
“Good,” Jubal replied and focused the potential into her forehead. “Are you associated in any way with the group of people who have conspired to kill me and my wife?”
“No, I respected you and adore your wife. Never have I thought to harm either of you, only to be of help.”
“Do you know the names of those who would do us harm?”
“No, but I know many people who are afraid of the Nephilim. Going by your actions against me, they have reason to be.”
Jubal noticed respect had been used in the past tense in reference to him and adore in the present tense in reference to Vashti. He ceased the potential. “You are innocent and I am truly sorry for lashing out at you and not taking your word. I hope you can forgive me.”
Aricana sat up straighter. “You as good as laid hands on me, worse, you cast horrid spells at me, and then say you are sorry. No, I will not forgive you, not ever. But I will accept the provisions you offered on behalf of my husband and sons. For me, I dearly hope never to set foot in this house again or ever be in your presence.”
Jubal felt horrible for the way he had treated her, yet knew he would do it again under the same circumstances. “I understand but hope that someday you will eventually forgive. Hopefully you will not be in a position where you have only a moment to judge the motives of a person holding a knife at the back of someone you love on the heels of being attacked yourself. I assure you, it does affect one’s judgement. You may leave at will. Food, clothing, and other necessities will be provided to you and yours at any time upon request.”
Aricana stood and walked out the door without saying a word. Cassi stepped up beside him. “Do you plan on apologizing to my husband for lashing out at him?” Her tone had an undercurrent that implied he’d better do so and soon.
“Not really, the words wouldn’t be genuine. I am not sorry for placing the safety of my wife first and not for dealing firmly with someone who wanted to argue otherwise,” Jubal did not hesitate to reply honestly. “Anak suffered no harm, but he did quickly come to agree with my point of view.”
Cassi opened her mouth, closed it, took time to think for a few moments, and then nodded. “Everyone in the house has heard what you did to Aricana and Anak. Few want to argue with you about anything and the one or two who might quarrel would probably do so only in the silence of their thoughts.”
Jubal smiled. “Others may not risk it, but I know you will find some topics on which to express disagreement.”
Cassiopeia placed her hands on both hips. “And you better not forget it.”
She held the pose for a few moments but her sudden smile spoiled the effect, if her intent had been to appear assertive and daring. “You can disagree with my opinions but I will argue if you disregard any of my viewings of the future,” She told him firmly and without exaggerated gestures.
Jubal knew from experience the danger of ignoring her warnings even if they seemed a little vague at the time of the telling. “I will keep that in mind.”
Vashti entered the room along with Anak. She sighed. “I knew Aricana was innocent but had no way to prove it. She idolized you and now that image has been crushed.”
“It could not be helped,” Jubal stated plainly.
“After all that has happened, I do not blame you for taking action. I might have done the same had the circumstances been reversed,” his wife responded.
Jubal wrapped his arms around her, enjoying the warm embrace. He pulled away and then gazed into her loving-violet eyes. “Focus first and ask questions later, that is how we must both react to potentially life-threatening situations.”
No one deserved to be idolized, least of all him who never wanted people to look at him that way. Better to have false images crushed than to be caught in a malicious trap.
“I could not have phrased it better myself,” Anak stated and then rubbed his chin. “Although, I would have left out the part about focusing since that is not an option for me. React first is how I would have said it.”
Jubal looked at his two body guards. “I am ready to eat. You are both invited to join us.”
Vashti nodded her head. “Yes, you might as well, seeing as you will be guarding us anyway.”
Anak smiled and rubbed his belly. “Body-guarding works up an appetite.”
They headed for the kitchen and began fixing dinner because the cook had left the premises after expressing a desire never to come back again. “After today, it might be difficult to fill the position,” Cassi remarked after setting the table.
“Why don’t you glimpse into the future and tell us who to hire?” Jubal asked.
His sister picked up a bread roll and threw it at him. He caught the warm bun in his right hand and took a bite. “Thank you. I knew that was the quickest way to get what I wanted.”
Chapter Eleven: Useful Resources
Jubal sat at his work table on the second floor of the pyramid, three doors down from his private study. The large quantity of strings he had given to Angelica, but the hollow batons he altered slightly, adding silver caps on the ends. It took him two days to create one hundred twenty producers using the new Aaka, in between teaching his students. He raised the price of each device to six pieces of silver, due to the cost of the precious metal. No one complained, not that he cared if they had, the complaints would not have changed his mind.
Twenty-three of the Aakatools made the old way remained and he decided to continue selling them at the original price until all but the few he wanted to keep were gone. Even though most Nephilim had already purchased the first version, most of them seemed interested in possessing the latest style.
His original students came back to learn Potential, Status, Ranking, and Lasso of Air, paying for those lessons. Upon completion, many of them sported Jade tridents on their foreheads, some had Amber, and a small number had bronze. Ra’s trident was silver, and the three eldest each had gold, although Jubal did not accept payment from his mother, Lilith or Sheba.
The majority of male Nephilim chose to use Status to learn their standing while with few exceptions the female Nephilim used Ranking. Pan had chosen Ranking and endured a lot of jokes about his masculinity until adding a pair of golden lightning bolts to his cloak.
Nobody joked about Jubal or if they did it was far away from his home, not after three golden lightning bolts, two on the right and one on the left, had been embroidered into the shoulders of his cloak. Word must have spread about the quantitative power each bolt represented.
He had not ventured out the door since Aaken loosed the arrow. Fear had nothing to do with it, work and perhaps a growing lack of trust in his fellow man kept Jubal from wandering at least for the time being. He had been a hunter for a long while and the desire to go out into the wild would, he knew, assert itself and eventually override his distrust of people. The work he did at home was important and his mind was full of ways to use Producer creatively, which had been Roddy’s intention, so going into the woods was not high on the to-do list.
Vashti, bless her heart, trusted Jubal with the ring he had given her the day they married. The gold band had a large diamond in the center and he intended to use it in an experiment. He held up the ring while mentally playing the tune
, Producer, in his mind. When the Melody came to the point of summoning potential, he focused that energy into both the diamond and the precious metal.
Satisfied, he played Elevation and focused the Aaka into the diamond and then added the Da Capo. “Vashti, come and try this out,” he called.
His wife rushed through the door, quickly took the ring from his hand and placed it on her finger. “It doesn’t appear any different,” she said after giving her most treasured possession a close scrutiny.
Jubal nodded agreement. The change would not be obvious until she actually focused potential. “Think of it as a producer and point it at something.”
A mischievous twinkle appeared in her eyes as she pointed her fist with the diamond aimed at him. At the last moment she targeted the table and her pink aura formed. A thin beam of light shot out striking and enveloping the table. With an upward flick of her wrist the object of her focus lifted off the floor. She then lowered it down and the glow vanished, meaning she had willed the potential to cease.
“It works exactly the way I thought it would. I can make a producer any shape or size, even out of a piece of jewelry,” Jubal explained excitedly, even though the fact was so obvious it needed no explanation. Roddy had told him the requirements, but the concept was new to Vashti.
She nodded and eyed the ring. “This truly is a marvel. It is easy to carry, easy to use, beautiful, and functional. And I can protect you with it.”
Giving her the means to protect herself was the reason he chose the ring as his first alteration. “Too bad I lack the skill necessary to make fine jewelry. The number of beautiful devices I could create for wielding Potential would be,” he paused, thinking, and then added, “The number is beyond my ability to count.”
She hugged him. “I will buy you a ring and then you can make it into a producer. I know your memory for tunes is so good you do not need an Aakatool to summon Potential, but the device would be useful in an emergency.”
Jubal smiled over her feeling the need to convince him, seeing as the effort was unnecessary; given the fact he fully intended to make one of his own. Even so her gift would mean more to him than a mere tool for defense. He stepped back from the embrace. “I will look upon the ring you give me as a token of our marriage and cherish it. Any ring you choose will be easy to convert into a producer.”
Her lips met his and after a short while the need to take a breath caused her to pull back and then she hugged him. “I will make sure every female knows what the ring on your finger represents.”
He failed to see the need. “Of the one hundred sixty-seven female Nephilim, three quarters of them are married, and all of them already know I am married to you.”
She placed her hand against his cheek. “My love, some of them can be forgetful at times and not all women are Nephilim. The ring will serve as a reminder.”
He knew better than to argue with that. “I have no doubt that it will.”
“If you can easily make my ring and the one I buy you into a producer, why not have the Nephilim who want one supply his or her own jewelry? That way you can charge them for the process without having to make the piece.” Vashti gave voice to his thoughts. She did that sometimes.
Jubal nodded. “Not many Nephilim own jewelry made of precious metals or with gems, but I suppose they might once they see the rings and such as useful tools, not just pretty accessories. I could spread the word and before the end of the day, I bet a score of them will show up wanting me to convert some object made of silver or gold they own into a producer.”
Vashti held up her hand, placing her fingers over his lips. “Not today. I have something else in mind.”
For reasons of her own, she had scheduled the seventh day as a period of no work. Consequently neither of them had a class to teach. His wife had agreed to the experiment but clearly intended to hold firm against him working on more producers for sale. The look in her violet eyes and the frequent hugging and kissing promised activities far more stimulating than making Aakatools. He did not contradict her. They rushed to the bed-room with no intentions of napping. In moments their clothing was off and they were in each other’s arms.
Had he employed the use of a sandglass, he imagined it would have been turned over at least twice during the time he altered her ring and the time they finished making love. After all, they had a responsibility to be fruitful and multiply and so had been diligent in their efforts.
The house was deserted except for the team of Weapocarns, every hunter an Anakim, and one other. The man guarding the bed chamber was the only Tiny, but fully trusted. A sudden pounding was the only warning before the door opened.
Xerxes gave a nod as they lay with the sheets pulled up. He had only given them a moment or so to cover themselves decently but it had been enough. He wore a crocodile tunic and a pair of obsidian blades sheathed and strapped about his waist. He stood a little over six feet in height, slightly over four cubits by Noah’s standard of measure. The scar parting the whiskers on his left cheek drew attention to his face.
“I beg pardon, Instructor, I beg pardon Trainer of musicians,” he entreated, addressing Jubal and Vashti by their official titles. “Chief Administrator Nimrod and the honorable Administrator, Semiramis, are on the second floor in the receiving room.”
Jubal refrained from shouting at the man for entering so abruptly and might have shown no restraint had the Tiny been a half second faster in opening the door. Too many people were terrified of offending the Instructor, even the tough Xerxes who normally feared nothing, so Jubal took in a calming breath.
“We will be down shortly,” Vashti responded coolly. “Next time knock and wait for one of us to bid you enter.”
His eyes nervously flicked to Jubal and then back to her. “It will be as you say.”
He backed out closing the door behind him, and then Jubal threw off the covers and began getting dressed. His order finally arrived, but instead of mottled green and brown woolens, he received red and black silk. The blouse and pants went well with his cloak, or so Vashti, who admitted to changing the order, assured him. His wife rarely ventured into the woods so could not be blamed if her choice made it impossible for him to blend in with the grass and bushes. He decided to order woolens in the near future without letting her know until after they arrived.
She put on her scarlet and black gown, eyed the single golden lightning bolt embroidered over her heart, and then they went down to the receiving-room. Semi had on an elegant black gown with gold filigree. Roddy wore his lion-skin coat over his gold-threaded robe. They were in the cushioned chairs so Jubal sat on the couch and Vashti sat beside him. The four standing lamps supplied ample lighting for the occupants.
“We came to inform you of the findings uncovered concerning the conspiracy to kill us,” Semiramis did not bother with the usual pleasantries. “Over a hundred Tinies were involved.”
“One hundred twelve to be exact,” Roddy added. He ran thick fingers through his hair. “Their hatred of us runs deep. They cannot be reasoned with nor trusted to cease in their efforts to bring about our demise. You have risked your life countless times, placing yourself between any number of people and ferocious beasts. I have done the same, yet they resent us to the point of wanting us dead.”
“Ungrateful is what they are,” Vashti stated, eyes flashing. “They would all be dead right now if not for we Nephilim.”
Semi leaned forward. “I could not agree with you more.”
The women nodded at each other for good measure. They were rarely so unified in their thinking.
In the days since the incident with the arrow, Jubal had learned Gemeena was on the mend, and expected to make a full recovery, although she would have a scar. No one had been injured in the rounding up of suspects and there had been no attempted murders, which was something to be thankful for.
Vashti had not ventured beyond their doorstep because like him, she was busy at her new profession. While he was still on the alert for human predators, his
blood had cooled and he had time to think about the possible fate of the conspirators, especially Fileeman and Aaken. It was obvious the feelings of those who shared the room with him had not altered much in the intervening days. He could hear the heat in their voices.
“For as long as they live the conspirators will be a threat,” Roddy began.
“And so they must be put to death, but only after their public confessions,” Semi finished for him.
Jubal’s jaw dropped open. He quickly closed it and a powerful sense of outrage swept through him. He regularly risked his life in order to protect and sustain the lives of others. The idea of deliberately ending so many lives appalled him, even though back in the heat of the events he wanted anyone who intended to kill his wife to drop dead.
Vashti clasped her hands and brought her fists against her lips, held the pose for a few moments, and then dropped her hands in her lap. “All of them or just Fileeman and Aaken?”
“They all want us dead,” Roddy replied, clearly making no distinctions. “We will of course have a public trial where they will confess to what they intended to do and afterward I will pronounce sentence upon them. You see Jubal, the process is important or else it will look as if we are merely seeking vengeance. I cannot allow you to simply kill them out right, much as I agree with your sentiments.”
Nimrod had misread the cause of Jubal’s outrage. Shouting at and disputing with the chief would not change a thing, other than create harsh feelings between friends. Jubal had to think of something.
Students and visitors, most of the last group were family, all brought news of the latest happenings and something he heard in passing flashed back into his mind. He took a breath and held it, calming himself, and then introduced his idea in the form of a question, “How much do you compensate the men who are building Semidon?”
“Two coppers a day and cheap as that is, multiplied by five hundred workers over the past three days, the cost so far is three thousand coppers,” Semiramis was quick with the number. “The projects will take months, perhaps years to bring to completion, and will cost a great deal of coins, especially my tower.”
Dawn Of The Aakacarns Page 22
