Sword of the Gods: The Chosen One (60 page)

“They are women,”
Jamin said.  “It’s all good and well to shoot at helpless little ducks. 
Another altogether to keep your cool when a 250 pound man runs after you with a
spear.”

“Yeah,” the younger
warriors agreed.  Their collective view of the female of the species was rather
dim.

“They will panic and
run the first time we need to rely upon them.”  Siamek did what he habitually
did, at least in public.  Back up their leader.  “It’s great they can help put
food on the table, but relying upon them to watch our backs during battle would
be a fatal mistake.  Do you really think a
woman
will creep up on our
enemies and take them out just as they're about to gut us alive?”

Jamin grabbed his
spear and swaggered over to the onlookers buzzing around the archers like
curious bees.  His warrior troop was behind him for support as a good troop
always
should
be.

“With one of these,”
Jamin bragged, “I can take down an auroch or a wild boar.  Not just some
scrawny bird.”

“And when was the last
time you brought home one of those?” Pareesa shot back.  “Oh … I forgot … last
September.  It's a good thing your father doesn't rely upon
you
for meat
or he would starve to death!”

His cheek twitched as
an overwhelming rage roared out of his subconscious and screamed '
hit her!'
 
Last September, he'd been laying on his deathbed, lingering between life and
the dreamtime from a gore-wound to his gut.  It had been Ninsianna who'd called
him back from the dead.  How
dare
this little bitch make fun of him!  He
clenched his fist at his side as he caught the warning glance from his father. 
A leader needed to keep mouthy inferiors in line, but the Chief thought
otherwise. 

“Ahh … little fairy,”
the Chief laughed.  “What a fierce little huntress you've turned into.  I hope
all
the women in the village follow your example.”

Hatred welled in
Jamin’s gut as his father turned his back on him and gave Pareesa a hug,
affection he hadn't received from the man since the day his mother had died. 
The moment the Chief looked the other way, Pareesa rolled her eyes at him.  The
little bitch knew
exactly
what she was doing!

“It's our pleasure to
present you with this token of our gratitude,” Behnam grinned.  The toothless
old man held up several ducks strung together upside down by their feet. 

“Thank you.”  The
Chief turned to the crowd.  “Everybody … look!  Anybody, no matter how young or
old, male or female, can become a skilled provider with these new weapons.  I
hope more of you will invest the time to learn to use them.”

“I want to learn,”
Varshab, one of the fiercest warriors from his father’s generation said. 
“Alalah … is it too late to join?”

“It's never too late,”
Alalah said.  “Mikhail trained twelve archers to teach others in allied
villages.  Since there are too many to teach himself,
we
will help teach
anyone who wants to learn how to use this weapon.  Including children.  It's
the future of warfare.”

“Not to mention it's a
damned handy skill to put supper on the table.”  Gisou held up her ducks.  “No
more dried salted meat!”

By this time, the
entire village had piled into the square.  The conversation turned to whether
or not villagers could make time to train.  The archers spoke of exercises to
do while carrying buckets of water and raking their fields.

Jamin scowled as he
realized just how badly he'd just lost face.  His warriors slithered into the
crowd to where Orkedeh and Alalah recruited villagers for the next round of
lessons.  Pareesa sauntered up to him like a cat taunting the family dog,
confident the dog would not dare growl with the master looking on, and stuck
out her tongue.  Something inside of him snapped. 

“You shall not mock me
so!” 

Jamin swung at her,
intent on slapping the smirk off of the little bitches face.  Pareesa danced
out of the way, unafraid.  Her high, sweet little girl's voice carried above
the din of the gathered villagers as she laughed at him. 

She was laughing at
him? 

He'd tried to hit her
and she
laughed
at him
? 
His vision turned red as his hands
clenched into a fist.  He swung at her once more, this time intending to punch
the little bitch in the face and knock her onto her ass.

“You will not do that
in my village!” 

Jamin suddenly found
his arm twisted up behind his back in a move so painful it bent him all the way
down to the ground.  He yelped, unable to break the hold which had him
incapacitated.  His father.  Had intervened.  He fought.  And was unsuccessful. 
At breaking.  His father’s hold.  He kicked back.  And couldn't break free.  He
was amazed that, even now, his father was still stronger than he was. 

“Get in the house!”
the Chief shoved him towards the front door.  “Now!” 

A twitter went through
the crowd.  Whispers offended his ears that it was about time the Chief had
taught him who was boss.  Mortified and fuming, Jamin skulked into the house. 
The crowd dissipated.  He expected to be beaten.  He expected to be told to do
some
horrible, unpleasant task such as empty out every chamber pot in Assur and
use it to fertilize the fields.  What he
didn't
expect was the look of
defeat on his father's face as he plunked down on a cushion, not even waiting
for Jamin to be seated as was custom during a disciplinary proceeding.

“Jamin,” his father's
expression was weary.  “Your behavior concerns me.  To be a good leader, you
must also be tolerant and wise.  You're too much of a hothead.  You must learn
restraint.”

“She disrespected me!”
Jamin said.  “If you don't demand respect, pretty soon you won't have a
village!”

“The Ubaid have held
onto these lands not only because we are strong,” Chief Kiyan said.  “But
because we treat others fairly.   We must form good relationships within our
own village and outside of it with the tribes around us.  You must learn to do
both –
if-
you want to be chief.”

“Only the strongest is
fit to be chief!” Jamin said.  “I'm the strongest warrior you have.”

“If strength alone is
all it takes,” his father shook his head, “than you will never be chief.   Like
it or not, you're no longer the best warrior this village has.”

Jamin exploded.  “Are
you saying you've replaced your own son with a demon?”

“You haven't been
replaced,” his father sighed.  “But if you believe the strongest, the fastest,
and the best warrior should be chief, then you're no longer it.  This village
needs a
leader
, not a bully.  To be a
leader
, you need more than
pure brute force.”

The wind gusted
through the open window. 
'He is right, favored one.  You must learn temperance…'

“I
will
be
chief!” Jamin shouted above the voices carried in the wind.  “Me!  I was born
to it.”

“Perhaps….” the chief
shook his head.  “But I've allowed you to become arrogant in that assumption. 
I have failed you.  All I can do now is teach you what I
should
have
been teaching you all along.”

Jamin stormed out of
the house, out past the gates of the village to where the livestock pens ended
and their fields began.  Shahla waited, likely waiting to hook up with one of
the other warriors.  It had been a long, dry spell.  He was done mourning the
loss of his unfaithful fiancé!  It was time to get back into action.

“Shahla!” he greeted. 
“I haven't seen you in ages.  How have you been?”  He reached out and tucked a
loose strand of her hair behind one ear, a gesture he knew she found
irresistible.

“I'm okay.”  Shahla
glanced over his shoulder, no doubt watching for whoever she waited for.  “How
have you been?”

“I have missed you.”  
He lowered his voice as he stepped into her personal space.  He knew from past
experience how badly Shahla craved to be held.  “I almost made the biggest
mistake of my life.  Thank the gods I came to my senses.”

“I thought you loved
Ninsianna!”  Shahla's voice was caustic. 

“My father wished to
ally our family to the family of the shaman,” Jamin said.  “Immanu has no son
and Ninsianna has inherited both his gifts and those of her mother.  My father
wished to tie her to our village before some distant tribe stole her away. 
It's how her mother ended up
here
instead of Gasur.”

It was not a lie.  It
had been the argument he'd used to get his father to order Ninsianna to marry
him.

“You dumped me for
that … sorceress!” Shahla said.  “Why should I believe you now?”

“Because you love me,”
Jamin said.  “I have realized it's better to have true love than to trade my
happiness to please my father.” 

He only felt a
slight
twinge of remorse at the lie.  It was not
totally
a lie.  Shahla
did
love him … or more precisely … she loved the prospect of hitching her star
to his future position of power.  And he
had
realized the next time he
allowed himself to fall in love, he
would
only let down his guard with
someone who loved him back.  That person just didn't happen to be Shahla.

“Oh, Jamin!”  Shahla
wrapped her hands around the back of his head and pulled him down for a kiss. 
“I missed you.”

He dragged her behind
the goat shed, but she was not the person he wanted to fuck.  Even now, he
couldn't bear the thought of touching anyone except the woman he'd spent every
waking moment obsessing about since the day he'd awoken gored by an auroch.  He
shoved Shahla into the dirt and took her from the rear so he wouldn't have to
see her face.  He pictured it was Ninsianna he fucked instead of this village
strumpet.  He wanted to hurt her.  He wanted to hurt her the way that
she'd
hurt him!  He pushed into Shahla, roaring as he found release.

He'd always enjoyed
rough sex, but this was the first time he'd ever hurt a woman.  Shahla’s shawl
was filthy and her cheek bled where he'd shoved it into the ground.  She
cringed from his touch, crying.  Every warrior in the village had fucked
Shahla, but her tears tugged at his heartstrings, making him regret what he'd
done.  Gita was right.  He'd mistreated Shahla every bit as badly as Ninsianna
had mistreated
him
.

“Don't you love me
even a little?” Shahla wept.

Jamin opened his mouth
and shut it again, unable to say the words.  He couldn't make eye contact as he
tried to force the lie out of his mouth and couldn't make the sound expel.

“It's complicated,” he
whispered.  “My father …”

“It's all that winged
demon's fault!”  Shahla clutched his face, forcing him to make eye contact. 
“You need to get
both
of them out of this village, Ninsianna
and
her
winged lover.  You need to strike at the heart of your enemy before
he
ends
up ruling this tribe!”

Strike at the heart of
his enemy… 

The plan Jamin had
been percolating ever since he'd spoken to the Halifian leader bubbled to the
surface.  Shahla might not be the woman he loved, but she'd always been
unwavering in her support.  Would it be so awful if he formed an alliance of
convenience?  For the sake of the tribe? 

“You're everything I
could ask for in a wife.”  His heart screamed ‘no’ as he took her into his arms
and said the words he knew she wanted to hear.  “Someday, when I am chief, we
can have many fine sons together.”

Shahla burst into
tears.  “You really love me?”

“Why do you think I
can't keep my hands off of you?” he evaded.  “But so long as that demon feeds
my father delusions of grandeur, this is all we can ever have.”

“Wh-What can I do to
help?” Shahla asked between sobs.

Yes.  What
could
she
do to help?  He knew
exactly
what she could do to help.  The tribe had
no idea he met with the Halifian leader from time to time to do a little
black-market trading.  The people of the desert had bragged they could make easy
money catching females foraging for wild grains in the underbrush and selling
them to the Amorites, and Jamin happened to
know
of a certain group of
females that liked to go
into the bush every day to shoot little sticks
at squirrels.  Females who had sided with a certain winged demon and, perhaps,
could lure him
into an ambush?

“Let me know the next
time one of the archers goes hunting,” he said.  “Especially that mouthy little
bitch, Pareesa.  I'll take care of the rest.”

Shahla sniffled and
nodded affirmation.  She reached down to caress his dick.  If he closed his
eyes and pretended it was Ninsianna, he could perform a second time.  This
time, he pretended he whispered words of love into Ninsianna’s ears, that it
was
her
soft breasts he cupped in his hands,
her
lips whispering
sweet nothings into his ears,
her
feminine mysteries he slid into as he
brought Shahla up for an orgasm and made her cry out in release.  He exhaled
her name as his heart reached into the void no woman could ever fill.  Ninsianna. 
The woman he'd loved and lost…