Sword of the Gods: The Chosen One (50 page)

“He's gotten
disturbing reports from a nearby village,” Immanu said.  “I think he wants your
help.”

“When?” He wanted to
speak to Immanu about courting his daughter, but by the worried expression on
his face, now was not the time.

“Right away.”  Immanu
gestured for him to come.

Mikhail put down the
buckets of water he'd been about to haul to his widow-sister friend’s house and
straightened out. 

“I should change
first.”  His shirt had dirt smeared down the front. 

“There's no time,”
Immanu said.  “The Chief has an emissary from the neighboring village.  Farzam
has to get to the next village before sunset.”

“You forget I no
longer need to walk,” Mikhail said.  “I'll meet you at the Chief’s house before
you can walk there.”

Immanu nodded and
hurried away.  Leaping into the air, Mikhail flapped his wings until he felt
the current catch the underside.  He adjusted them into the wind to soar
effortlessly into the sky.  Flexing his primary feathers to catch maximum
updraft, he winced as muscles overworked from yesterday’s little ‘twofer’ stunt
complained.  The bone ached where it had broken, but he pushed the pain to the
back of his mind.  It felt good to fly again, but inactivity had left him
weak.. 

Reaching the apex, he
caught a glimpse of Ninsianna in the river washing clothes.  Squelching the
urge to swoop down and shout ‘surprise,’ he dove into the doorway of their
house, pinning his wings to his side as he touched down so he'd fit through the
door still quasi in-flight.

“Eeeek!!!”  Needa
dropped the medicinal herbs she'd been tying into bundles.  The last thing
she'd expected was to have her new ‘son’ come flying through the door.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. 
“I just need to change.” 

“We're going to have
some RULES around here, young man!!!” Needa snapped.  “No flying inside the
house!”

“Yes, Mama.”  He
schooled an appropriate look of chastisement.

Needa smiled at the
endearment.  Stepping behind the curtain that cordoned off his personal area,
he emerged wearing his dress uniform shirt and jacket, but didn't bother
changing his pants.  Strapping his pulse rifle onto one hip and his sword onto
the other, he straightened his collar and the medals he couldn't remember
earning.  He dipped his hands in the bucket of water kept in the room for
washing before heading back out, his hands dripping water all over the floor.

“Got to go!”  He took
off the moment he hit the threshold.  The backdraft from his wings scattered
Needa’s herbs.

“Eeeee-vey!” Needa
muttered to herself.  She gathered up the herbs and resumed tying them into
bundles.  Life with Ninsianna’s avian friend was certainly interesting.

* * * * *

In the center of the
village was a communal well.  Surrounding that well was the central square, a
place where people gathered after a day in the fields to draw water, purchase
trade goods, and reconnect with their neighbors.  Surrounding that square sat
the central granary, a small temple dedicated to She-who-is, and a few of the
finest houses in Assur, including Chief Kiyan's.  Mikhail saw from the air that
the Chief stood in front of his house waiting for his arrival, as well as Immanu's,
who got there on foot at exactly the same time as Mikhail did from the air. 
With him stood a man wearing exotic attire. The emissary cringed as Mikhail
glided in for a landing, the wind from his wings knocking off the man's hat.

“This is the newest
member of our tribe," the Chief stepped forward to shake Mikhail’s hand
before introducing him to his guest.  “Farzam … meet Mikhail.”

“Pleased to meet you,”
Mikhail said to the unknown emissary.  He rustled his feathers to all face the
same direction to settle his wings into a tightly-tucked military posture
before schooling his expression into one of cool neutrality and offering his
hand.  When in unfamiliar territory, serious watchfulness was his default
emotion. 

Farzam was unfamiliar
with the concept of a handshake.  The Chief pointed to his own hand and stuck
it out.  Farzam mimicked the gesture, awkwardly shaking Mikhail’s hand as he
mumbled pleasantries.

“Let’s go inside to
speak,” the Chief said, noticing the curiosity seekers gathered in the central
square.  Just when the people of Assur had finally adjusted to the sight of a
winged man
walking
around their village, now they had to adjust to the
sight of him actually
flying. 
“Immanu … please … join us.”

Immanu gestured for
Mikhail to go in first.

This was the first
time he'd ever been inside the Chief’s house.  It was five times the size of
Immanu’s, decorated with felted wool carpets, a low table, and stuffed
cushions.  The Chief motioned for them to sit.  Clapping his hands, an elderly
woman came out and offered them a hot tea made of herbs. 

“Farzam has informed
us that bands of mercenaries have been raiding area villages and kidnapping
their young women,” Chief Kiyan nodded gravely.  “Kidnappings have always
occurred, but never so many at once.”

“How many?” Mikhail
asked.

“They took eight
females from our village,” Farzam said.  "Dozens from allied tribes. 
There are rumors coming over the mountains from Anatolia that
they
are
experiencing these kidnappings, as well."

“Kidnappings are
usually
some warrior's way of getting around her parents opposition to their marriage,”
Chief Kiyan said.  “The woman shows up happily married to her new husband in
another village.”

“But these women are
never seen again,” Farzam said.  "In
any
of the villages.  It
appears to be an organized pattern, but for what purpose, we don't know.”

“Farzam,” Chief Kiyan
asked.  “Could you please show Mikhail the weapon?”

Farzam lay a long,
thin object wrapped in cloth in front of him and carefully unwrapped it. 

“Do you recognize
this?” the Chief asked.

Mikhail picked it up
and touched his finger to the tip.  Memories of learning to use such a weapon
flooded into his mind.  Immanu signaled the others to be silent while he spoke
to himself in the clicking Cherubim tongue to strengthen the memory.  He hadn't
seen this type of weaponry amongst the Ubaid, but that didn't mean it didn't
exist on this planet.  The stone-tipped shaft he held now was even more
primitive than the steel-tipped ones the Cherubim taught all novitiates to use,
but the weapon was unmistakable.

“It's an arrow.”  He
looked at Farzam.  “Do you have the bow it was shot out of?”

“Bow?"  Farzam's
face had a puzzled expression.

“A long stick with a
piece of sinew strung between the ends.  You shoot it, like this…”  Mikhail
demonstrated stringing the arrow into an imaginary bow.  He pretended to draw
the bow and shoot the arrow at an object on the other side of the room,
mimicking the ‘thwung’ noise as it left the bowstring.

“Oh … we have seen
those … but only at a distance,” Farzam said.  “We can't get anywhere near
them.  They hit us and leave.”

“Who?”

“The Halifians,”
Farzam said.

Mikhail frowned.  “The
Halifians that attacked Ninsianna and I had no sign of this technology.”

“No,” Immanu said. 
“We have never seen weapons like this before.”

“That's why I asked
you to come,” the Chief said.  “According to Farzam, they hit Nineveh, Gasur,
Arrapha, Qattara, and just about every other village in Ubaid territory.  It's
only a matter of time before they hit Assur.”

“What do you want from
me?” Mikhail asked.

“You're the best
warrior we have,” the Chief said.  “And you're familiar with technology that we
are not.  We want you teach us how to use these weapons in case we are
attacked.”

Mikhail contemplated
the Chief’s request.  Although he was willing to train the villagers to defend
themselves, lurking in the back of his mind was a prohibition against giving
primitive cultures more technology than they could acquire on their own.  On
the other hand, if one tribe had bows and arrows, it was only a matter of time
before the Ubaid acquired the technology on their own.  Nor did Mikhail wish to
see the people who had taken him in harmed.

“I'll teach you to use
these,” he said.  “But there are conditions you must meet or I will not do it.”

“Such as…” the Chief
asked.

“The villages that
were hit are all Ubaid, correct?”  Mikhail turned to Farzam.

“Yes,” Farzam said. 
“We are all allied, which is why I am here.”

“Farzam will ask two
warriors from each allied village to come train.”  Mikhail slipped into a
degree of authority that came surprisingly easy given he couldn't remember his
past.  “They are to arrive in two weeks.”

“Who will feed these
warriors?” the Chief asked, thinking of his pocketbook.

“
You
will
help.”  Mikhail gave him an expression which communicated he wouldn't be
questioned on military matters.  “But we'll ask each warrior to bring two
week's rations so they don't put a strain on your purse.”

The Chief thought it
over, glancing between the arrow lying on the carpet between them and a locked
door.  “Agreed.”

“As you so aptly
pointed out,” Mikhail remembered the Chief’s words his first day in the
village.  “We don't have the resources to maintain a standing army.  Any Ubaid
who wishes to train must put in the same number of hours on the field as
everybody else.  I'll not tolerate healthy young warriors sitting around
watching the very young and old do most of the work.”

“Agreed," the
Chief gave an empathetic nod of agreement.

“The training will be
open equally to men and women,” Mikhail said.  “Angelics don't share your
ridiculous stratification into male and female roles and I'll not tolerate it
either.  Anyone who wants to learn will have the opportunity to be taught.”

“But….” Farzam
protested. 

“Agreed,” the Chief
said.  “Every Ubaid will have the opportunity to train, whether male or
female.”

“But…”

“There is a
reason
we
have hung onto the most fertile land on the Hiddekel River,” the Chief turned
to Farzam.  “From the moment they can walk, all villagers, male or female, are
expected to defend themselves.  Mikhail’s mate, Ninsianna, came in third in our
Solstice competition, behind only Mikhail and my son Jamin, and the fourth and
seventh-place winners were also female.”

“How many competed?” 
Farzam's expression was skeptical.

“Over fifty,” the
Chief said proudly.  “Nearly one-fifth were women.”

Mikhail suppressed a
smile at the Chief’s reference to Ninsianna.  They hadn't stuck around to find
out who had won, so enthralled were they at their pleasant flight over the valley. 
If not for Yalda showing up with half the olives this morning, he wouldn't have
even known he'd won.  The fact Jamin had come in second place didn't surprise
him.  The boy had excellent weapons skills, but no common sense.

“If young women are
being targeted for kidnapping,” Mikhail said.  “Then the women must be taught
to defend themselves.” 

“It would be better if
they don't get kidnapped in the first place,” Chief Kiyan said, “rather than
launching a rescue party.”

“That makes sense,”
Farzam grudgingly agreed. 

“The bow and arrow are
well-suited for female physiology,” Mikhail explained.  “Once you develop the
upper body strength to draw the bow, either gender can use it.”

“Hmmmmm….”  Chief
Kiyan leaned his chin upon his fist.  “Having female archers would free up the
males to go hand-to-hand with the attackers.”

An image of sparring
with an ethereally beautiful, white-winged female Angelic popped into his
mind.  Pinning her to the floor had not come easy.  She'd gotten up, bumped
fists with him, and then snapped orders for him to report to duty someplace
else.  She'd then sauntered off with one of the green insect-people he
sometimes recalled.  Whoever this female was, she far outranked him.

“Memory?” Immanu
asked.

“I don't think you
would want to come up against one of our females,” Mikhail came back into the
present moment.  “Hand-to-hand … or bow-and-arrow.  I recall one of my female
commanding officers nearly getting the better of me.”

“Who
are
your
people?” Farzam asked.  It was obvious he found it hard to believe a female
could nearly best somebody the size of Mikhail.

“They are the swords
of the gods,” Immanu said.  “Ask your shaman, Zartosht, to sing you the song of
the sword and translate it for you.  You're looking at a living legend.”

“Zartosht sang this
song when he returned from your village after meeting the winged one,” Farzam
said.  “But I didn't believe it until I saw him for myself.”

“Last,” Mikhail said. 
“All warriors will learn hand-to-hand combat and mental discipline.  A good
warrior can take out a room full of assailants with his bare hands.”