Sword of the Gods: The Chosen One (59 page)

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 parents 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 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
said.  “Let’s do it right in front of that pompous goat of a son of his!  Show
Jamin a thing or two!”

“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. 

“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 said.  “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.

~ * ~ * ~
* ~ * ~

July – 3,390 BC

Earth:  Village of Assur

Jamin

A crowd of villagers
thronged into the central square.  In their midst, the winged demon's archers
marched in formation, quivers and bows draped across their backs as though they
thought they were ancient heroes of yore. They were led by the youngest member
of their group, Pareesa, an arrogant little snit who had, of lately, begun to
get too big for her britches.  Four ducks dangled from her hand, their blood
still dripping as though she were some ancient goddess of the hunt.  Her dark
hair had been tied up off of her neck and she wore a man's wrapped kilt, not
the proper shawl Ubaid women wore.  She strode towards them, her face
deceptively innocent as she gave them a coy look as though to communicate,
'hah!' 

“Look at all those
ducks,” Firouz said.

“So many,” Dadbeh
said.  “They’ve got … what?  Two each?”

“Three,” Firouz said.

“What the hell do
they
want?” Jamin said.  The villagers danced around the group, asking about the
ducks each archer carried in both hands.  His worst fears were answered when
they marched up to his father's door and pounded until the Chief came out.

“We wanted to thank
you for letting us learn archery,” Alalah said, “by presenting you with the
first tangible fruits of our efforts.”

“Why … thank you!” 
Chief Kiyan's face brightened at the sight of his newest, and until a few
moments ago, his most
questionable
investment of village resources.  He
took the two fat ducks from Alalah’s hands.  “Please tell Mikhail I said thank
you.”

“We will,” Alalah
said. 

 Jamin glowered from
the well where he and his warriors rested after a particularly brutal session
training with their spears.  The only reason the archers were doing this was to
gain favor with his father!  The Chief was a fool to be so easily flattered!

“Maybe
we
should
learn to use the bow,” Dadbeh said.

“Can you teach us,
Jamin?” Firouz asked.

“It's a waste of
time!” Jamin said.  “They’re just little sticks you can break with one hand. 
Toys!  We're learning to use
real
weapons!”  He held out the sturdy
spear he'd used to hunt lions, fierce beasts worthy of a man’s investment of
time!  Of all the village warriors, only
he'd
ever taken down a lion
alone.

“Those weapons look
real to me,” Kiarash said.  “And those are
definitely
real ducks.”

“There is a big
difference between shooting tiny ducks who can't defend themselves,” Jamin
said, “and an armed assailant.  Don't forget why we train in the first place!”

“We should at least
look into this technology?”  Siamek kept his voice low so the others wouldn't
hear him disagree.  “Even if it's only a toy.  It makes us look bad if the
girls are the only ones putting meat upon the table.”

“Who would have
thought a bunch of giggly girls could hunt like that?” Tirdard said with
unbridled admiration.

“You just say that
because Yadidatum is one of the archers,” Dadbeh teased, elbowing the youngest
of their group.

“Oh, Yadidatum,”
Firouz said in a mock-low voice.  “Let me insert my arrow into your lovely
bow.”  Firouz grabbed his manhood and pretended to aim it like an arrow,
straight at where Yadidatum stood showing one of the villagers how to aim.

“Ahh, yes, brave
Tirdard,” Dadbeh said in a high mock-female voice.  He tilted his pelvis
towards Firouz’s ‘arrow.’  “Such a big, firm arrow you have.  String it right
here.  Ahh!  Ahh!  Ahhhhh!”

The other warriors
laughed.  Jamin didn't think it was funny.  His authority had been usurped by a
bunch of girls!

“When you think about
it,” Kiarash said.  “It makes sense.  So long as they carry those bows, our
women won't be easy targets.” 

As the oldest warrior
of the group, Kiarash often took a longer view of things than the other
warriors.  His father's spy, that's what Kiarash was!  The man his father had
tasked with babysitting him and the other warriors he led.  If his father's
judgment was compromised insofar as the winged demon was concerned, than so was
his spy!

“It's a waste of
time,” Jamin said.  “All I hear are complaints from their husbands and parents
that while they are off in the woods shooting sticks at trees, they are
not
doing
the cooking and cleaning!”

“And that differs from
our
families complaining we don't have time to do our manly duties …
how?”  Kiarash gave him a pointed look.