Sword of the Gods: The Chosen One
July - 3,390 BC
Earth: Village of Assur
Colonel Mikhail Mannuki’ili
Mikhail
He'd just barely begun to drift off to sleep when he heard a frantic pounding on the door.
“Mikhail! Wake up!!!”
It took him a moment to recognize Gisou's voice, one of his archers. Rolling out of his cot and knocking aside the curtain which separated it from the main living quarters, he hurried to yank open the door. Before him stood the normally giggly Gisou, her shawl-dress ripped and dirty and her hair disheveled as though somebody had tried to rip it out.
“Gisou? What happened.”
“They have Pareesa!!!” Gisou threw herself into his arms. “They grabbed us on our way home from the bush a few miles upriver. I think … I think I shot one of them!”
The others came up behind him.
“Mikhail, what is wrong?” Immanu asked.
“They got Pareesa!" Mikhail said. A cold, familiar chill settled into his body, instructing him what to do even though he couldn't remember ever having taken the training. He peeled the frantic young woman off of his chest and grabbed her by the shoulders, bending to make eye contact with her so she would stop sobbing and tell him what he needed to know. “Gisou … how long ago?”
“We were in the woods tracking deer when they ambushed us,” Gisou blubbered. “They dragged us with them, but then Pareesa untied my bindings and I got away. I had to hide until they gave up looking for me before I could run back to summon help.”
"How far?"
"I'm not sure," Gisou said, "perhaps three hours run."
“How many men were there?” Mikhail asked. "And what tribe did they belong to?"
“There were eight, maybe nine, of them." Gisou wrapped her arms around herself. “They had three women with them. Tied up. I didn't recognize what tribe. I don't think they were Ubaid.”
Needa pushed past his wings and took the trembling girl into her arms, shooting him a stern look when he started to object and insist he needed to debrief her.
“Come inside, dear." Needa led the frantic girl indoors and sat her down at the table. “Ninsianna … get that blanket.”
“Did you see which direction they headed?” Mikhail asked.
“I think they were heading into the hills,” Gisou said. “I speak a little Halifian. I overheard the leader say something about meeting with slave traders. I think they are planning an attack.”
“Immanu,” Mikhail ordered. “Go warn the Chief we have raiders on our perimeter. Ninsianna…" He hesitated, that part of him that loved her not willing to do what that part of him which had trained her needed her to do.
"Shall I get my bow?" Ninsianna asked, her golden eyes filled with a combination of fear and excitement.
"Go wake up the other archers," Mikhail said reluctantly. "You may need to provide cover for our warriors if they attempt to raid the village. Take a position on a rooftop like we discussed so you are not within a direct shot of enemy bows. You will be in charge.”
Ninsianna followed him back to his cot and watched as he grabbed his pulse rifle and sword from underneath his bed. “Where will you be?"
Mikhail began to utter clicking meditations in the Cherubim language, the meditations so deeply ingrained into his psyche that even memory loss had not been able to erase them from his mind. The meditations about how to kill. His blood turned into ice as his training kicked in and transformed him from an Angelic soldier into a Cherubim assassin.
Some part of his mind watched himself prepare for battle with detached curiosity, the Cherubim training to separate his ability to feel from his ability to think giving him an edge over an ordinary soldier. Young girl or trained archer, the raiders had taken one of his own. He would get her back. His only concession to emotion was to pause long enough to kiss Ninsianna before leaping over the threshold, into the air, and into the light of the waxing moon to search for his littlest archer.
“The gods will have no mercy on the ones who took Pareesa,” Immanu's words filtered after him into the wind.
Chapter 76