Sword of the Gods: The Chosen One

July – 3,390 BC

  Earth: Village of Assur

  Colonel Mikhail Mannuki’ili

  Mikhail

  “Mikhail,” Pareesa said. “Oh Mikhail!" Pareesa reached out with the end of her bow and jabbed him in the wing. As the troop's youngest and most fearless member, she often ribbed her reticent mentor in a way the others did not dare.

  “I'm sorry,” he apologized. “I was … thinking."

  He looked longingly at the lovely visage which distracted him. Ninsianna testing her bow, her arm lining up in perfect symmetry with her luscious breasts.

  “Yeah,” his impish young student joked. “I know exactly what you were thinking of!" Pareesa pointed to where Ninsianna prepared to crawl into the reeds. “You drifted off mid-sentence.”

  The other students giggled at his absent-mindedness. All knew the source of his distraction and good-naturedly teased him whenever his mind began to wander. Ever since Immanu had given them permission to marry, he'd been having a hard time keeping his baser impulses under control. Ninsianna was worth the wait, so wait he did even though it was driving him to distraction. Mikhail forced his thoughts back down onto the planet.

  “Today we shall hunt ducks." He motioned for his archers to follow him to a lazy, marshy portion of the river that made a natural pond. With rains scarce this time of year, most inland pools of water had started to dry up. Waterfowl migrated to the more reliable Hiddekel River as soon as their young were capable of flying.

  Twelve more archers had joined their troop from allied villages, studied the basics of mastering the new weapon for two weeks, and then gone home. Their villages had been the victims of raids and Nineveh had suffered a second attack. The allied archers were determined to master the new technology and go home to teach every able-bodied male … and female … unlike Assur, where archery training was voluntary and still being undermined by Jamin.

  “Mikhail,” Yadidatum asked. “Doesn't it bother you to shoot birds?”

  “Why would it?”

  “I mean … you … well…" Yadidatum pointed at his wings. "You're part bird.”

  Mikhail paused, pondering her question. It had never occurred to him that he might share DNA with the avian population. This planet had species he'd never seen before, if his faulty memory could be relied upon, such as the gigantic mated pair of golden eagles which circled the Hiddekel River with their powerful, Angelic-like wings.

  “I'm not sure what I'm descended from,” he said. “But I don't think I'm part duck. People hunted similar waterfowl back in … back … where I'm from. Water fowl are common throughout the galaxy, I suspect.”

  “Quack, quack,” Pareesa flapped her arms like a duck.

  “And I definitely don't quack,” he gave Pareesa a mock serious stare.

  The others giggled, causing his mouth to twitch up in the smile he failed to suppress. Like the fairies she was named after, Pareesa inspired the others towards mischief, her youthful energy turning what might have been dreadfully boring training exercises into camaraderie. She was also an exceptionally talented archer.

  “Shhhh,” Behnam signaled as they got close to the cove. “We'll crawl the last few feet.”

  “Ready your bows,” Mikhail whispered.

  This was Behnam’s first hunt using the bow, but the old man had been setting snares for decades. Mikhail followed his lead. Once the first shot was fired, the waterfowl would take to the air, giving them seconds before the birds were out of range.

  “Remember,” Alalah said. “We have a point to prove. We have to show our families that our newfound skills provide value.”

  “Then maybe my mother-in-law will stop grumbling about babysitting while I come to lessons,” Orkedeh said. “My husband doesn't understand why I want to spend hours on end shooting little sticks at targets.”

  “You only come because it's an excuse to get away from your eight kids,” Alalah said. “It's mommy sanity time.”

  Alalah, Orkedeh and Kiana all chuckled.

  “They just don't understand because Assur has not suffered a raid yet,” Kiana said. “They'll feel differently once we are attacked. As soon as my kids get big enough, I'll to teach them all to shoot. My two oldest girls are almost strong enough to draw a bow."

  “Maybe Mikhail could teach us to make smaller bows?” Pareesa said. “One a child of seven could draw? My little brother wants to shoot squirrels and help my parents get more meat.”

  “We can do that,” Mikhail said. "It would please me if you teach others to defend themselves."

  He didn't add that he was disappointed at the low turnout and the Chief’s lack of enforcement. The Emperor indoctrinated his species into military training academies as babies…

  Memory. He grabbed at the elusive fragment, but it escaped as fleetingly as it had come. Damantia! Something about the Emperor starting training young.

  “If you bring home fresh duck,” Alalah whispered, “your families will stop complaining and tell you to practice more. There's nothing like fresh roast duck to convince someone of the value of an investment in time.”

  The archers strung their bows. After Ninsianna had complained about the string burning her aiming arm, he'd fashioned wrist and finger-gauntlets out of scraped goat hide. He suspected it was not a new invention, simply one he'd forgotten he remembered. The other archers had copied the idea, making gauntlets of their own.

  “Not yet..." He waited for Yadidatum to get her arrow hooked into the string.

  The ducks quacked nervously at the humans creeping through the underbrush, but were not worried enough to take flight. Few predators could follow them into the water fast enough to catch them. That was about to change.

  “Now!" He took his first shot at a plump male that was beating up on a smaller female. He immediately reached into his quiver for the next arrow.

  Ten more arrows whistled through the air as his students let fly their first shot, including his. They reloaded as panicked waterfowl took to the air. Reaching for a third arrow, he glanced over to see Ninsianna wearing the same intense look of determination she'd worn the day she'd thrown her spear into the competition bullseye.

  As soon as the third arrow was out of his quiver, he reached for a fourth, but the ducks were out of range. He'd shot three, more than enough for his family to feast tonight. Dead and dying ducks littered the water, enough to prove the worth of archery practice to their begrudging families.

  “Okay everybody, that's enough!” Arrows required a substantial investment of time to make. There was no point in wasting arrows on long shots when so many fat ducks had already been harvested. “Now we get to wade in and retrieve them.”

  Everybody stripped down to their loincloths and waded into the river, swimming to retrieve their supper before the current carried it downstream. If that happened, not only would they lose their ducks, but their arrows as well. Some arrows had been lost, of course. Not every shot was a kill, especially with archers as newly trained as these. But overall it had been a fruitful hunt. Mikhail averted his eyes as his largely female troop bounded out of the water, ducks in both hands.

  “I got one!" Yadidatum retrieved her arrow from one of the ducks. Mikhail had made them mark their arrows in a unique pattern so they would always know whose arrow belonged to whom.

  “I got three." Behnam held three ducks by the feet. “And I didn't lose any arrows.”

  “I got four,” Alalah announced.

  “Hey … so many … you should share!” Gisou said. “I only got one.”

  “I have six kids to feed, plus my husband and mother-in-law,” Alalah said. “Why do you think I practice so much?”

  “That's one more than Mikhail,” Homa said. “I only got one duck, and I have four brothers and sisters, my parents, and my grandmother.”

  “Mikhail only took three shots,” Ninsianna said, “and got three ducks. You took four shots and lost three arrows, Homa.”

  “You should practice more,” Alalah said. “Then your pare
nts won’t nag you so much about cleaning the house.”

  “Why do you think I'm always here?” Homa laughed. “If they can’t see me, they can't order me to clean up after my sloppy older brothers!”

  “I got two,” Ninsianna said. “Papa got two. And Mikhail got three.”

  “What will you do with all those ducks?” Orkedeh asked. “I got two, just the right amount to feed my eight kids.”

  “Mikhail always gives some to Yalda and Zhila,” Ninsianna said.

  “I'll give them a duck,” Mikhail said. “And I think we should present one to the Chief.”

  “Oooooo!” Pareesa jumped up and down. “Let’s do it right in front of that pompous, goatheaded son of his and show Jamin a thing or two!”

  Just three days ago, Pareesa had shouted at Jamin and called him a pompous jerk after he'd tormented her little brother into a fit of anger about her taking archery training.

  “Pareesa,” Alalah said. "That's not a kind thought. Or language. Your mother would be very upset.”

  “I think giving the Chief one of our ducks is an extremely kind thought,” Pareesa's eyes sparkled with mischief. “Doesn’t everyone agree?”

  “Our family has seven ducks between the three of us,” Immanu said. “One of which we shall give to Yalda and Zhila. I think we can spare two for the Chief.”

  “Yes,” Mikhail said. “And we should throw two more into the take to give the archers who didn't get enough. If you and Ninsianna agree.”

  “That would be fine with me,” Immanu said.

  “And me,” Ninsianna said.

  Showing up the lazy boys who refused to learn the latest technology was sweet payback. Mikhail wouldn't participate in the archer's gesture towards the chief, but he wouldn't forbid it, either. The archers gathered their kill and headed off to the village square to make their presentation, their spirits high as they marched arm-in-arm. Immanu took the ducks they'd chosen to keep and excused himself, leaving Mikhail and Ninsianna alone.

  “Jamin will spit stones when Pareesa presents his father with those ducks,” Ninsianna said. “You realize the little mischief maker will do it so the whole village sees?" She slipped her arms around his waist.

  Personally, it pleased him to watch the little fairy give Jamin his comeuppance…

  “What does or does not upset Jamin is his problem." Mikhail inhaled her scent. “I won't deliberately antagonize him, but I will not shield him from others who notice he is undermining the well-being of the village.”

  “Chief Kiyan enjoys gifts,” Ninsianna laughed. “He'll be pleased with the ducks, and also that his investment in archers is paying off.”

  “Very publicly rewarding him for training a bunch of women and one very old man." Mikhail nuzzled her hair as he encircled her in his wings. “It will make the ducks taste decadent as far as he is concerned.”

  “Mikhail?" Ninsianna pressed her ear to his chest so she could hear his heartbeat. “Where do you want to live after we are married?”

  “I haven't given the matter any thought,” he said. “What is your custom?”

  “I love my parents,” she said. “But their house is rather small. I want to make loud, happy noises when you make love to me!" Ninsianna stood on tiptoe and suggestively rubbed her abdomen against his manhood, causing him to sharply inhale.

  He pondered the question. He would like to live someplace where he didn't have to scrunch up his wings to fit. Ubaid houses were small, especially for someone as big as him. At first he'd hoped his people would come for him and help him repair his ship so he could take her to the stars she often dreamily told him she wished with all of her heart to see, but the more time that passed, the less likely rescue seemed. Even that gnawing sensation that he had a mission to complete had begun to fade the moment he'd asked Ninsianna to marry him. His place was here now, with her. He would adjust his expectations to meet those of the Ubaid who had welcomed him into their midst.

  “Would you like me to build you a new house?” He looked up at the hill where Assur rose above the banks of the Hiddekel, built bumble-tumble on a hill and jammed too close together. “Where?"

  “Not too far away from my parents," she said. "Just not with them. It would be embarrassing if they overheard us." She nibbled on his lower lip until he deepened his kiss.

  Fire burned through his entire body. “If you keep teasing me like this, we aren’t going to make it to our wedding night.”

  “That's the idea… “

  “I promised your parents we would wait,” he said. “Your father agreed to let us marry on Lammas day.”

  “What if I don't want to wait?" She slid her hand down his back to the ticklish spot just beneath the beltline of his pants.

  “I know you don't want to wait, little imp,” he said. “But you will. I gave your parents my word."

  “And how will you do that when all you want to do is to make love to me?" She rubbed her thigh against the bottom of his testicles. They spasmed so hard he thought he would lose it on the spot, clothing or no clothing.

  “The same way I always do."

  With a laugh, he carried her up into the sky where she loved to soar. It was the only way to distract her, and himself, from doing what they both wanted to do.

  “Kiss me,” she murmured as the wind whistled past them in flight.

  All was right with the world. So he did.

  Chapter 72