Sword of the Gods: Agents of Ki (Sword of the Gods Saga) (120 page)

"Figs?" Aturdokht extended a small wooden platter that contained dried figs, roasted acorns, a bit of goat cheese and few slices of flat bread.

Jamin met her gaze, the veil which covered her face accentuating the beauty of her eyes.

"Any food you serve becomes a delicacy in your hands."

She poured him a cup of water, her hands shaking as she avoided his gaze. It was a far cry from the first time she had given him water, when she had dumped it onto his lap and screamed she wished he'd die
.
That same fierce spirit which had attracted him to her would get her killed if Yazan got his hands on her again.

"Thank you," Jamin said.

Aturdokht bowed her head, and then she turned to leave.

"Wait!" Jamin reached for her hand. "Sit with me. Please. Don't make me eat this meal alone."

Aturdokht kneeled in front of him, the plate of food held between them like a chaperone. Jamin was amazed Marwan had left his daughter with him unsupervised, although he suspected that Nusrat stood just outside the tent, ready to bury a knife into his belly if he acted inappropriately. The old desert adder was crafty, but Jamin had become just crafty enough to know what Marwan was up to. He wished to inspire him to try harder to win her hand. It was no longer a matter of simply winning water rights for his tribe. The shaykh wished to secure the future for those members of his family who would not fare well once Zahid seized control.

He need not have bothered…  At this point, whether or not Lucifer ever came back with Ninsianna, he would marry Aturdokht anyways. It was the Halifian's way, to take on many wives, and it was the Sata'anic way as well. Ninsianna had lost her chance at monogamy when she had spurned his affections for someone else.

"I am sorry," Jamin said. He took her hand and turned it over, pushing up her sleeve to expose the scars from the day her father had tied her up and she'd taunted him by screaming she'd only marry the man who brought her the winged demon's heart. Aturdokht trembled as he ran his thumb over the imperfections.

She pulled her arm away…

"I feel like no matter what I do," Aturdokht's voice trembled, "that I betray Roshan. I betray my husband because he would
want
me to return to Yazan's tent-group and give him an heir. But it would not
really
be Roshan's son! And it would not be
him
who begat it upon me! It makes me cringe, and it makes me want to run away."

Her eyes filled with tears, making them appear all the greener.

Jamin put a finger underneath her chin.

"So you do not wish to marry me after all?"

"I do not wish to marry
anyone,
" Aturdokht said. She looked away, and then she sighed. "But at least with you, we would have an understanding."

"An understanding?"

"That in my heart, my one true love would always be my husband, and that if the shaman's daughter was to ever to return once the winged demon's spell has been lifted from her eyes, that all I ask is for my own tent; to not be cast out into the desert or Roshan's daughter killed."

Her eyes were beautiful, and green, and filled with longing for a man who was not
him…

Emotion clenched Jamin's chest, though whether it was because Aturdokht feared what would happen if she married back into Yazan's tribe, or that she feared she would never love
him
, he could not be certain. The latter, he was certain.

He remembered a story his mother used to tell him each time she encouraged him to put a momento into the treasure box.

"My mother used to tell me a story," Jamin said. "She said, if I was lucky, that someday I would find somebody who loved me more than life itself; that when you love somebody that much, they will wait for you on the threshold of the next world." He swallowed, his cheek twitching as he asked the dreaded question. "Tell me, Aturdokht. Can you honestly say that is the way you felt about your poor, slain husband?"

Aturdokht's eyes crinkled up in a sad smile. Tears slid down her cheeks, tears of grief.

"Yes," she whispered. "All I dream of is
him
."

An odd sensation crushed Jamin's heart, dashing his hopes, even as he was grateful to her for being forthright. His own father had never remarried after his mother had died, nor had he, to anyone's knowledge, ever lain down with a concubine.

Jamin slipped his fingers beneath the corner of the veil which hid her face and tugged it so it came undone, exposing her perfect, beautiful face with its speckling of freckles which danced across her nose.

"I will carve out the heart of the winged demon that broke
your
heart," Jamin said. "And then I shall marry you, and I shall love Roshan's daughter as my own, and when you are ready, perhaps someday you will give me a son or daughter? It is all I ask of you, to give me beautiful, green-eyed children who are just as smart as you."

Aturdokht nodded and wiped her cheek with her sleeve. She would perform her marital duties, whether or not she was ever able to give him her heart. It was what was expected of her.

He leaned forward and touched his lips to hers. It was a cool kiss, marred by a sob as she broke away from his grasp. It left a curious, empty feeling. Aturdokht rose to her feet before he could grab her.

"Perhaps you might do better to forget me?" Aturdokht said.

Before he could think of a suitable retort, she disappeared back behind the curtain.

Jamin stared at the delicacies she had brought for him, no longer tempting.
Would
she ever grow to love him? Would anyone? He glanced up, expecting to find Shahla standing there, laughing at his misfortune.

He grabbed the figs, a bribe for Private Rushd who was addicted to the delicacy, and then rose to his feet, glancing at the curtain where Aturdokht had disappeared. He considered going after her, kissing her soundly until their natural attraction overrode her longing for her husband, but he suspected now was not the right time, not with her former father-in-law standing outside the tent, trying to force her father to stop insisting his daughter had a right to choose her own bride price.

His distraction almost caused him to walk right into Zahid, flanked by Yazan and a three rough-looking men who were no doubt these 'suitors' who wished to curry favor with their uncle by beating into submission Yazan's wayward daughter-in-law.

"Yazan," Jamin said cautiously.

"Because of
you,
" Yazan hissed, "my brother is dead."

There was no sign of Nusrat, or Lubaid who might be well-favored towards him since he'd given him such a magnificent gift. He suspected Yazan had arranged for them to be sent on a fool's errand, or more likely, Marwan had not expected Aturdokht, given her desperation, to be so brutally honest and flee his affections.

"Dirar knew what he was up against when he chose to go after the winged demon," Jamin said. "As did every other man who tried to collect the bounty. All along I warned you he was a demon."

Yazan leaned forward, his eyes almost bloodshot with hatred.

"You
knew
the bastard was immortal," Yazan hissed like a cobra. "And you did not warn us we tried to kill a god?"

Jamin rose to his full height, which even
before
Lucifer had given him the combat boots was taller than the man by a good palms-breadth.

"It was a slender
girl
who cut him down," Jamin said. He gestured towards the entrance of Marwan's tent. "And as you saw with your own eyes, the sky people possess a wondrous ability to heal many wounds, but they can also die, for we had to bury five good lizard men. It is the same with Mikhail."

While Zahid merely stood with a hostile, cold expression, not quite ready to directly disobey his father, the three men who stood behind Yazan drew their knives. Jamin's heart beat faster. Time slowed down as every ounce of training he'd received first as an elite warrior of the village, and then as a soldier in Shay'tan's armies, whispered that this was the moment he had feared.

"Don't do this," Jamin warned.

The first man rushed towards him, blade held straight out. Jamin shoved the man's arm out of the way and stepped aside, causing the man to go stumbling right into the entrance of Marwan's tent. The second man was on him in a second, but Jamin kicked him in the stomach, the added leverage of his combat boots enabling him to deliver a far more powerful kick. Jamin slammed down a double-fisted hammer punch onto the back of the man's head and immediately whirled towards his third attacker, Lucifer's knife was already out of its holster as he sliced the man's cheek and kicked him to the ground.

"Katlego!" he shouted into the microphone embedded in his collar.

"Yeah, buddy!"

Yazan rushed at him. Jamin dodged the blade.

"I need that demonstration of power we talked about!" Jamin shouted. "Now!"

He sliced down into Yazan's wrist, the one which held his blade. Yazan screamed. Jamin kicked the back of his knee to knock him off-balance and then pushed him to the ground, forcing himself to rein in his temper and not do something as stupid as kill the man.

A 'pfoompt' sound from the ridge.

Jamin grabbed Yazan by the beard and twisted his head to face his tent.

"Behold the power of Shay'tan!"

Whatever Katlego had lobbed at them, it flew down with a whistle and, the moment it hit the tent, exploded into a conflagration of fire.

The Halifians screamed.

Jamin laughed. He had not yet seen whatever
tek-no-lo-gee
this particular weapon was, but he liked it. He liked it very much.

"I am not responsible for your brother's death, fool!" Jamin kicked the man. "But if you pull a stunt like that again, I can guarantee I will be responsible for
your
death, along with every member of your tribe!"

He whirled and faced Zahid.

"And
you
should have more respect for your father!" he jabbed his finger at Marwan's upstart heir.

He straightened his trench coat. Katelego's voice came into the tiny speaker in his ear.

"You alright buddy?" Katlego asked. "Or do you need another demonstration of power."

"I'm good," Jamin answered.

Ignoring the wails of the women, Jamin stormed out of the encampment, pausing only long enough to pick up the control box for the magic carpet. He leaped onto the slender platform and jammed forward the tiny knob, almost dumping himself unceremoniously back onto the ground. He did
not
fall off, however, but held onto his seat as he rode the magic carpet back up the hill to where Katlego stood waiting for him with a pair of binoculars.

"Guess you showed them, huh?" Katlego said.

"Guess I did," Jamin sighed.

As soon as the shuttle leveled off to cruise back to the Sata'anic base, he shut his eyes and imagined the little treasure box which sat on the tiny table next to his bed. In his dreams he kept searching for something his mother had told him was hidden inside the box, but he could not find it. It was as empty as his heart…

~ * ~ * ~

February: 3,389 BC

Earth: Mesopotamian Plain

Mikhail

He sat across the chessboard from the small, dark-winged Angelic. Beside them a timer counted out the seconds until the boy had to make his move. The boy did not speak, but then he never did.

"
Tá sé do bhogadh, Gabriel," Mikhail said. He pointed to the timer. "Tá tú beagnach as am."

Those sullen blue eyes were angry because he did not yet understand the game. With a chubby little hand, he picked up his black bishop and made an L-shaped move across the chess board to capture Mikhail's white queen.

"Mo banríon!" Mikhail pointed to the black bishop. "Ní sin an tslí go bhfuil píosa fichille ceaptha a bhogadh."