Sword of the Gods: The Chosen One

May - 3,390 BC

  Earth: Village of Assur

  Ninsianna

  He intercepted her carrying home a basket of early spring vegetables. Standing in the middle of the open field, arms laden with the bounty of the soil, there was no alley to duck into to avoid him or house to pretend to be visiting on a mission of healing. She had no choice but to stand her ground.

  “Ninsianna,” Jamin jogged to catch up with her. “We need to talk. Please!”

  “What do you want?” Ninsianna eyed him with distrust. Yalda and Zhila looked up from the adjacent plot. At least there were witnesses if he tried to drag her anyplace or duck her head into the water again.

  He towered over her, two hands-breadths taller than the top of her head. He would have been beautiful but for the sneer which marred his handsome features. Brown skin. Black hair. A straight nose, unusual in a people whose facial features tended to be more like a hawk than a lion. And eyes so dark it was hard to tell where his irises ended and his pupils began. Physical attraction had never been the problem between her and the son of the village chief, but temperament. Every time he tried to boss her around, it roused her temper.

  “Lose your pet rooster?”

  Anger caused Ninsianna's eyes to flash fiery gold like the sun. Mikhail was at his ship, a journey he made once a week to try to get the engine oars working. Recovered except for his wing, he no longer needed her to protect him, but she wouldn't tell Jamin where he was.

  “Mikhail is his own person." She tossed her hair and attempted to continue on her way. “What he does is none of your business.”

  “You're making a big mistake,” Jamin blocked her escape. “He has no family. No money. No position. Gods! He's not even human.”

  “You just don't get it,” she sighed. “None of that matters. It never did. If it’s not him, and I'm not saying it is him, then it would be somebody else. Why can’t you just accept the fact I don't love you and go find somebody who does?”

  “Why, dammit?!!” Jamin cried out. “I'm the best warrior in the village. Why am I not good enough for you?"

  She opened her mouth to cut him down into the dirt. More than a few of the females he'd bedded over the years had congratulated her for finally giving him a taste of his own medicine. After all the grief he'd caused her, she wanted nothing more than to watch him bleed!

  'Ninsianna … be kind! There is no benefit to being cruel…'

  Ninsianna's eyes were drawn to Jamin's spirit light, the hole in his heart that she had made. It was not anger or arrogance the chief’s son spoke with now, but hurt. A twinge of guilt twisted in her gut. She'd led him to believe her depth of feeling was greater than it really was, thinking it was the goddess' will. Although, in her defense, she had intended to marry him at the time.

  “Jamin …" She put her hand on his cheek. “Sometimes people just are not right for one another. You're handsome, strong, and smart. There are plenty of women who would love you if you just gave them a chance.”

  “But it's you that I love." His voice warbled like a teenage boy. “You told me that you loved me, and then all of a sudden you just didn’t anymore. I don't understand what I did wrong! I can't eat. I can't sleep. You're all I that I can think about!”

  Why couldn't he go away and find somebody else? Jamin was not the first male she'd spurned, but he was definitely the most persistent. Until Mikhail fixed his sky canoe and carried her off into the stars, it didn't behoove her to antagonize the son of the village chief. Like it or not, until she could leave, she had to be nice to him.

  “It’s not you,” she said. “It's me. I love you, but I'm just not in love with you. You deserve somebody who will love you more than life itself. Like in the legends. I'm just not that person.”

  Turning to where Yalda waved for her attention, she excused herself and moved towards her elderly neighbors.

  “You looked like you needed to be rescued." Yalda pretended to look into Ninsianna’s basket, her ancient skin crinkled into a smile.

  “Ohmigods, yes!” Ninsianna said. “Thank you.”

  * * * * *

  Nobody noticed Mikhail standing in the distance. The last thing he expected was to see her standing in the family field, speaking to her former betrothed. She'd placed her hand on Jamin’s cheek in the same intimate gesture he'd come to regard as reserved only for him. The contact had been brief, but he'd seen it. An emotion he couldn't even begin to name stabbed through his heart and made it difficult to breath.

  Chapter 49