Urden, God of Desire

For rivals who might see themselves in the eyes of their enemy and find love instead of hatred.

Prologue

“We’ve found something in the palace storage room near the landing bay.
A monstrous crate, unmarked.”

Enrue lifted his eyes from his computer and glared at the young man who stood in the doorway. Like most of his aides, the retainer wore a gray uniform and bore the same short haircut they all did. Enrue hated interruptions when he worked. His jaw tightened for a moment, a muscle in his cheek twitching. “What is it?” He stood, intrigued.

“It hasn’t been opened, but, we’ve broken the locks already. I thought we should wait for you.” The retainer bounced from one foot to the next, his youthful face alight with angst.

Enrue signed out of his program, smoothed out his silk belt and soft, beige pants, a comfortable style reserved for men of high rank. It had been a tiring day of meetings and broadcasts.
I need time to clear my head,
he thought. A break from the touchscreen sounded good at that moment. Curiosity soon had him following his retainer to the lower rooms in order to discover what strange thing his corrupt predecessor had hidden away.

Solar lights lit the wide, gray storage room, flickering every so often. The collection panels high on the rooftops had suffered when Enrue’s fleet attacked the palace months before. The leader paused, his eyes narrowing on the
thing
his servants had unpacked. An air crane
droned,
its belt taut as it hauled up the item within the crate. His servants righted the packed item, tore away its protective coverings of long strips of bubbled plastic and removed the strap that held it to the crane. They shut off the machine, stepped back and surveyed the piece of art they’d unveiled.

Enrue hissed through his teeth, disappointed. He studied the black stone statue of some sort of Unangi God. The carving stood a head taller than him, with no pedestal to support it. Its dark feet rested atop the marble floor as if it had been human at one time. Behind the statue, the metal crate it had been in lay to one side, fluffed packaging fluttering in the breeze from the air vents.

“Another relic to collect dust.”
Enrue said, narrowing his eyes on the statue.

“We thought it could have been a weapon,” his retainer grumbled.
“Something useful.”
He cleared his throat and stifled a laugh. “It’s the Unangi God of Desire. I doubt he will aid us in the war.”

The relic meant nothing to Enrue, just another purloined piece of his former rival’s hoard of ostentatious treasures. The statue’s erect phallus pointed toward the heavens, and its upraised arms with fisted hands and enraptured face expressed a mysterious spiritual need, a beckoning the new leader of Irnia had little interest in. He waved away the servants and his retainer. “I want to be alone.” They scurried out like rats, leaving him to his thoughts and the dust shrouding the loading bay.

He liked solitude. Years ago, after his wife passed, he’d sent his daughter away to boarding school to be raised by others. He recalled those days and nights. Silence and time were plentiful, and it was then that he plotted to take over Irnia. The port city with its decadence and high concentration of Hemec fuel in the nearby mountains was a staging point to begin the war against the Kyleena Empire.

Enrue let out a tired sigh. He fingered the sash he wore, and shot a glance at the Unangi God. He strode to it and reached out to trace its hip. The single piece of dark stone felt smooth, the carved muscles defined. It was a wonder the relic had survived the attack on Leuj’s palace. In fact, it amazed him how much of the palace was salvageable. The bombs had missed large sections of the building, but destroyed much of the gardens. He intended to use the estate as a base to launch one-man fighter pods against the cruiser warships he knew Kyleena would send in time.

Stepping back, he shot the statue a curious look. “God of Desire,” he muttered. “There are no gods.” He sat down on a blue settee and frowned. “But I have desires, grand plans, and I will see them come to fruition.”

He closed his eyes. He imagined his daughter’s face, not the ghastly look she bore when he identified her body at the Tarafian morgue, but the wide, curious, hazel eyes that matched his own. She’d been a beauty in life, though he never told her so. He believed people should not be too sure of themselves or prideful, his daughter especially. For a fleeting moment, he regretted never telling her how much she meant to him, but then his thoughts returned to the Empire he wanted to control. The memory of Sima faded.

Chapter One

Alga

Sima rolled on her side and smiled at Razi. Still asleep, his mouth slightly ajar and his breathing steady, she fought the urge to kiss him awake, to cuddle into his body and spend their morning in bed, making love. He was skilled at pleasuring her, drawing her into a frenzied state, determined to bring her to orgasm time and again until she begged him to stop.
On second thought, maybe I better let him rest,
she decided. They were to meet with a priest from the local temple at noon, and she wanted to be able to walk straight.

Easing off the bed so as not to disturb him, she pushed her chestnut hair out of her eyes and breathed deep. Life was good now, much simpler than it had been when she resided under her father’s control.
Only months before, she’d escaped an arranged marriage to Leuj, the tyrant of Irnia, and found herself in a brothel with Razi, her soon-to-be husband.
The unlikelihood of their meeting always made her giggle.

She stretched her arms high and glanced about the small, but comfortable cottage they’d rented in Alga’s north sector. A hand-carved wooden loveseat bordered the window. It was there she’d tossed her clothes the night before. She dressed in a long, blue skirt and matching blouse, braided her hair and poked her feet beneath the side table, seeking her shoes.

Sima left for her morning walk, her sandals slapping at the heels of her feet. She breathed in the cool, fresh air, free of smog or pollution. Alga was a farming community, a naturalist’s paradise, a haven far from Irnia and her home city of Taraf, both on the other side of the planet. She feathered her fingers across the thick seedheads of thigh-high amaranth. This hybrid was bred to grow half the height of the standard plant. The blood-colored grain reminded her of the war they’d left behind. Fleeing to Alga had always been her plan. Never did she think she’d regret it, but lately, she wondered if it was the right decision.

The flat stone path led her to a fountain and near that, a squat woman sat on a porch swing made of scrap metal. She swayed lazily in the early morning light and clutched a small radio. Morning news stuttered into the air, polluting the silence and tranquility. Sima was about to hurry on her way when she heard the mention of her father.

“Shiemir Enrue Alonwei of Taraf has declared Irnia a free nation. Southern Irnians are being searched. Those found in violation of the human trade treaties will be executed. Any cargo ships attempting to dock at the Irnian ports from Hicklan Corporation will be destroyed. The Shiemir has issued this statement…”

Sima seated herself on the edge of the fountain. Her fingers skimmed the cool water’s surface as she listened, perplexed over this development. Her father was wiping Irnia clean of immorality. To be certain, it was a noble move, but she knew her father well. He never did anything for the good of anyone but himself.

“…That the degenerated society of Irnia led to my daughter’s untimely death cannot be questioned. If Leuj Irnia had rid his city of these slavers and whores, Sima would be with me today.”

“Ha.” She closed her eyes, frowning. Her father had been happy enough to trade her for treaties to Leuj a few months prior. This was nothing more than propaganda. She half-listened to the commercials and then stood. Striding along her usual path, she was unwilling to dwell on the past.

A herd of dwarf cattle grazed in the lowland pasture at the end of the path. Sima held to the fence post and watched them, their red-brown fur bright against the dark green. Grass tore and teeth grated. Silence again, the gentle quiet of being far away from real civilization and all its worries. “This can’t last,” she whispered to herself. “Nothing good ever does.”

Behind her, shoes made small soft sounds over the path. She listened to the person’s approach and realized she wasn’t afraid anymore. They’d been in Alga a month and the panic that she’d be discovered, that someone would turn her in and she’d be returned to her old life, had vanished. She smiled and turned.

“Morning.”
It was
Razi,
his dark features alight with mischief. He ran a hand over his short, black hair and flashed a melting grin. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

She shrugged.

He slipped his hand around her waist and leaned sideways against her body. Warm lips kissed her neck and worked a path of affection up to her ear. “I like it when you wake me up.” He nipped her earlobe, causing her to shiver. “Like yesterday. And the day before that…”

“Mm.”
She turned to face him and slid a hand up his shirt. Her fingers found his nipple and the slim ring piercing it. “I can’t wait for you to be my husband.” She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him. The double suns rose above, warming her skin and shedding more light on them as they held each other close.

“Soon,” he said.
“Though I see no difference.
We’re together now.”

She hugged him and stared at the cattle. “Do you think I could have done more back in Irnia? Do you think I should seek out my father?”