July – 3,390 BC
Earth: Village of Assur
Jamin
He lingered at the back, as far as he could get from Ninsianna and her eerie golden eyes. Any minute they would figure out what he had done!
No. Of course not. Whispers had gone through the village. A traitor. Someone had passed intelligence to their enemies. But so far, no one had traced their suspicions back to him. How could they? This was not what he'd intended when he'd cut a deal with the Halifians to lead the winged one into an ambush.
They'd double-crossed him! All the Halifians were supposed to do was rid his village of whichever female archers they could lure far enough away to kidnap without incident. Pareesa. Homa. Gisou. And Kiana. Females the age the Amorite slavers wanted. A surgical strike to remove a cancer from their midst. Attack had not been part of the bargain!
Eleven dead! Eleven dead and forty-five Halifians. And eight Amorite slavers. The Halifians were supposed to back up the slavers in the dense foliage of an acacia grove. They'd chosen that as the kill box because trees would hamper the winged demon's ability to fly. They weren't supposed to attack the village!
Eleven Assurians were dead! Their stone cairns stared at him. Accusing him. Taunting. Screaming. Murderer. Murderer. Murderer.
The Halifian leader had given him intelligence, in return. Ninsianna was not the only person to have delusions of lizard people! The Amorites had told them the lizard-demons were only middle-men. The ultimate slave masters buying their women were none other than Mikhail’s own people! He'd been right all along! Mikhail was here to find their weaknesses!
He couldn't tell. If he told his father what he knew, they would know he'd been the one to sell them out to their enemies. He hadn't expected them to send a raiding force against the village. The mercenaries were supposed to stay with Pareesa and kill Mikhail! Not attack Assur!
This was not his fault!
His cheek twitched, a nervous tic which had grown worse ever since the winged demon had stolen his girl. He could fix this. Yes … there was a bigger threat afoot. It was up to him to figure out a way to fend off the bigger threat. Maybe he could get the Halifians to side against their common enemy? Mikhail’s people. They were the enemy. They were the ones who demanded Ubaid women for slaves!
How to fix. How to fix. Could he fix this? Yes … he was the chief’s son. He had to fix this. Only he could fix this mess. He was the only one who knew…
“Jamin,” Shahla interrupted his whirring. He jumped, glancing to either side, fearful the others would see them together and put together the pieces of the puzzle.
No. Nobody knew. Nobody knew he'd done this. Nobody except for her. His fists clenched as he contemplated whether he should kill her.
“This was not supposed to happen,” Shahla wept. “This is all my fault! If I hadn't told them where Pareesa liked to hunt deer, this wouldn't have happened.”
He should kill her. She was the only one who knew. How? He thought of ways to lure her away from the village. A spear? No. Her screams would alert the others. Strangulation. Yes, strangulation would be silent. But where would he hide her body? And who could he blame when her parents came looking for her? Laum was a wealthy man. He would not allow his daughter to simply disappear. Another kidnapping? Yes. That was it. He would make it look like Shahla had been kidnapped.
Perhaps he could just sell her to the Amorites himself?
No. For all her sleeping around, Shahla had never conceived a child. The Halifians said the slavers wanted breeding stock, not farm labor. Defective merchandise was turned out into the desert and allowed to die. What would happen if she escaped and made her way back to Assur? Now, or years from now, the other villagers would stone him to death for his complicity in causing the deaths of eleven of their own. He had to kill her. It was the only way to guarantee her silence.
Shahla leaned into him, her head against her shoulder.
“This was not your fault,” Shahla said with a sniffle. “You were only trying to do what is best for the village."
Her arms slid around his waist. So trusting. So … loving. Shahla was in love with him. Even if he was not in love with her.
'You're not a murderer…' the wind whispered.
“I'm not a murderer,” Jamin said. His arms slipped around her shoulders as he sighed. “This was not supposed to happen. My father is blind." He pointed to where the winged one stood silently amongst the crowd. Watching. Watching every move the Ubaid made so he could report their weaknesses back to their real enemies.
The Angelic race…
When Mikhail had flown back into their midst to defend his father, he'd looked into his inhuman blue eyes. Although not black like the first time, what had stared back at him had still not been mortal…
“He is the threat to our village,” Jamin said. “That's why they've been trying to take him.”
“I'll do whatever I can to help,” Shahla searched his eyes. “That's what the wife of a future chief would do, wouldn’t she? Do whatever is necessary to support her husband? Even when everyone around them is too blind to see what is really going on?”
'You're not a murderer…'
“Yes,” Jamin kissed her. Even if he didn't love her, he was not a murderer. He wouldn't hurt her.
But he did have to keep her silent…
“Let’s go,” Jamin nuzzled her neck. “I want to make love to my future wife.”
Chapter 85