Sword of the Gods: Agents of Ki (Sword of the Gods Saga) (93 page)

"You were supposed to knock her unconscious and bring her
here
!"

Pareesa looked around at the other villagers in horror. She had been worried Immanu might harm the girl he blamed for his daughter’s disappearance, but … no! He couldn’t possibly suggest a
human
sacrifice tonight in accordance with the ancient law!

"I brought you this ram from my father's flock to make a burnt offering of instead," Siamek said.

“A winged man fell from the sky,” Immanu hissed, “and told us, yes, there really
is
an Evil One who does battle against the light. And then that same Evil One came
here
and snatched my daughter. There is truth to the old ways after all!"

Immanu turned to face the villagers, his arms held out imploringly as he made his appeal.

"Who here doubts that darkness has fallen upon our land?" Immanu asked. He jabbed his finger in the direction of the pits. "We have amongst us a criminal who would make a fitting sacrifice to appease the gods. Let us cast her into the fire, so that she might atone for her sins!”

Siamek put down the ram, undaunted by the sacrificial blade which Immanu wielded like a man who had lost his mind.

“It is the task of the Tribunal to adjudicate Gita's guilt," Siamek said. "Not a grief-stricken father.”

Immanu gestured to Varshab and Firouz.

“You two! Go! Go drag Gita out of the pit," he gestured. "Bring her here and we shall adjudicate her guilt right now.”

A voice warbled out from the back of the crowd.

“You do not have that right, shaman!”

The villagers parted. Yalda stepped forward, the most ancient woman in the village. Her shoulders were stooped with grief and, as she walked, she leaned heavily upon her cane as though her weight had become too much for her to bear.

“You know we loved Mikhail like a son," Yalda said. "We want to hold his killer accountable as much as
you
do. But the Tribunal has already discussed the matter and we have not found sufficient evidence to return a verdict of guilty."

"Then we shall
vote
on her guilt," Immanu shouted. "Right now!" He whirled to face his fellow villagers, the ones who had until now always considered him a compassionate man. "Who will stand with me to wreak vengeance for my daughter?"

"A sentence of death lies solely with the Tribunal," Yalda said. Her wrinkled mouth set into a determined line. "If I were forced to pass judgment upon her guilt right now, I would say she was
innocent
of any wrongdoing."

"As would I!"

Behnam stepped forward, the village's oldest man and one of Mikhail's eight original archers. "We are not desert savages, Immanu, as our parents once were. I, as well, have not found sufficient evidence of Gita's guilt. If I were pressed right now, I would state the child is innocent."

"But she admitted she had knowledge of a white-winged Angelic," Immanu said.

"Do not let your grief blind you, old friend, to what is good and just,” Behnam said.

"I have not been convinced as well."

Rakhshan stepped forward, the elderly flintknapper who was also the third member of the Tribunal. "The child answered all of our questions unflinchingly, including those questions which did not paint her in a favorable light. While she does admit her friend told her she'd been taken as a wife by a white-winged Angelic,
she
was no more aware of Ninsianna's prophecy than
we
were."

Immanu whirled to face the Chief.

“You can overrule them! Kiyan … she is responsible for the abduction of my daughter!”

“I will no more thwart the trial of a girl who has done nothing but try to keep the winged one alive,” Chief Kiyan's tears glistened red in the firelight like stigmata, “than I did to save my own son from banishment from this village.”

Immanu strode forward and shoved his finger into Chief Kiyan's face.

“Because
YOU
did not stone your son,” Immanu shouted, “my daughter was taken and her husband murdered because
your
son allied with our enemies!”

Chief Kiyan hung his head in shame.

“I thwarted the hearing on the second charge,” Chief Kiyan said, “because I could not bear to watch my son die. I am sorry, old friend. I am sorry my weakness came back to haunt us. But can’t you see? Can’t you see why the observance of the law is right?”

"Which law?" Immanu said. "
Your
law? Or the law handed down from our fathers?"

"
Our
law," Chief Kiyan said. "The one you and I agreed would be our guiding light after our fathers died and left
us
in charge of these people."

“But if Gita is truly sorry,” Immanu's voice warbled, “she will carry word of Ninsianna’s abduction to the gods. Perhaps they will help us find her.”

Chief Kiyan shook his head.

“I forbid it,” Chief Kiyan said. “You and I, we agreed there would be no more passages through the fire. My dear, departed wife told me that to
her
people, all such sacrifices are considered worship of the Evil One.”

“My mother threw
herself
onto the fire!” Immanu jabbed his finger in the chief's face. "She did so willingly."

“She did so because your
father
threw her newborn daughter into the fire,” Chief Kiyan said softly, “as a sacrifice to beat back the advances of the Uruk tribe. Your mother threw herself into the fires after her child in a vain attempt to save her from the flames.”

Pareesa stared from face to face with horror. They? Had practiced. Human. Sacrifice? The very act they said made the Uruk evil?

“It
worked!”
Immanu hissed. “My sister’s sacrifice bought us time!”

“It worked because your father threw himself into the fire
after
her,” Chief Kiyan said, “and the entire village was so horrified that we went to the other shamans to beg them to eradicate the fire-ritual as an abomination against She-who-is. It was out of that agreement, and
not
your sister's sacrifice, for which the Ubaid allied.”

“But the old ways were the correct ones!” Immanu's voice sounded strangled. “The winged one’s appearance proves we were all once people of the heavens. If we make sacrifice to them, the old gods will return and allow us to take our place amongst the stars.”

Chief Kiyan placed his hand upon Immanu's shoulder.

“My wife's people believed the sacrifice would only work if the martyr was
willing,
” Chief Kiyan said. “Who shall willingly cast their life upon the fire, old friend? Will
you
do it? Will you cast your body upon the flames in the vain hope it will bring back your daughter?"

"She was my only child," Immanu sobbed.

"What will she do," Chief Kiyan said, "if she returns to us and learns not only is her husband lost, but now she must a raise his child without the benefit of her father?”

“Darkness has fallen across our land," Immanu said. He turned towards the temple of She-who-is. "We have lost favor with the goddess. Someone must carry our prayers to the goddess' ears.”

“Any god who needs a sacrificial victim to hear our prayers,” Chief Kiyan said, “is not a god, but a petty spirit with little power to intervene in the affairs of mortals!”

That hum of power Pareesa associated with the God of War tickled the crown of her head as though a great hand had reached down to tussle her hair. She knew what she needed to say. It was time to say it. Her heart racing, she stepped forward and dared to interrupt the two highest ranking men in the village.

“Mikhail would not want this," she shouted so that the entire village would hear. "He was a good man. He would find such a sacrifice to be an abomination.”

Immanu whirled to face her, the light from the bonfire reflecting off the white streaks in his salt and pepper hair, giving him the appearance of wearing a crown of flames.

““And what do
you
know, little girl? You're nothing but a thirteen summer girl?” Immanu clutched the sacrificial knife in his hand.

Pareesa sent up a prayer to the God of War to give her words adequate to meet this battle of words. She jutted out her chin, refusing to back down.

"I know the god who walked with Mikhail as his mentor speaks to
me
now," Pareesa said, "and he does not like your plan."

"Silence, child!" Immanu snapped. "What do
you
know about the spirit realms?"

Siamek stepped forward, he who loathed being the center of attention almost as much as Mikhail had, and gestured to the people who vacillated with indecision between the shaman who had, until now, always led them wisely and a thirteen summer girl.

"Let her speak!" Siamek said. "Before he died, Mikhail gave his blessing to anoint Pareesa with his sword. She is his protégé, and every person in this village knows she speaks with
his
voice!"

The villagers nodded and whispered amongst themselves. They would let her speak.
Could
she speak? Pareesa gulped at her inadequacy.

“I know that Mikhail treated everybody fairly,” Pareesa spoke gently, her eyes filled with tears. “And that each life was sacred to him, from the highest Chief all the way down to the lowest person in the village. I know this Emperor he spoke of is a compassionate god, who always tries to do what is right; and that neither Mikhail, nor the god he served, would want this thing, this abomination which Immanu proposes. “

She turned to make eye contact with the villagers.

"I know that if Mikhail were to rise up from his deathbed right now," Pareesa said, "and see what Immanu proposes, that he would be sickened. He would fly back to his god and tell him that all of humanity is
primitive,
not worthy to take their place amongst the legions of heaven he'd hoped to call down to save us."

Immanu's lowered the sacrificial blade perilously close to Pareesa's chest, but he did not hold it as if he wished to smite her.

"I know that Mikhail looked to
you
to be a father, Immanu," Pareesa lowered her voice, "and that if he saw his
father
commit such a heinous act, that he would be ashamed. He would retreat back to the place from whence he'd come, and he would not help us evermore."

A low, guttural groan escaped Immanu's throat, not a cry of anger, but the grief of a father who had just lost everything.

“Make a sacrifice, Immanu,” Pareesa reached up and placed her hand around
his
hand, the hand which held the knife. “Make a sacrifice of the ram. And then we shall roast its flesh upon the bonfire and share it with the entire village, to make a feast in Mikhail’s honor, to honor his passage back unto the heavens from whence he came."

She turned to the other villagers, the words flowing which had been whispered to her earlier by the God of War.

"The new laws are the better ones," Pareesa said. "It is what Mikhail would want. It is how he would wish for us to remember his life."

She turned to face Needa, who stood alone.

"It is how Ninsianna would wish for us to remember
her
life.”

Tears slid down Needa's cheeks. Needa nodded. Needa, like her, had held out hope until the very end.

Pareesa moved to stand directly in front of the fire and drew Mikhail's sword. It reflected white despite the bright-orange flames of the bonfire in front of it. She held it upright and pointed it at the moonless sky.

"When I threw myself into battle, alone, in a desperate attempt to save Mikhail's life," Pareesa said. She looked beyond them into the memory she wished to tell them about now, "I was
willing.
I was
willing
to sacrifice myself and die. But at one point I realized I had done a rash thing, and my courage faltered, and my heart filled up with dread. I was afraid, because I knew I was about to die, and I feared what would happen when I moved from this world into the next."

She turned to face Immanu, Ninsianna's poor grief-stricken father.

"But then the old god spoke to me," Pareesa said. "A vision, more powerful than even one of your
visions, shaman."

She turned to face the crowd, the people who stood at a crossroads between the old ways and the new. Would they return to the old ways, or would they follow her into the future which Mikhail had come here to teach them? The fire crackled and sent up sparks as though it wished to shout,
look!
Pay attention!

"The battlefield grew far away," Pareesa said, "and all of a sudden I was standing in a Hall of Heroes; a sacred place where the bravest are carried after they die to spend eternity watching over the lives of the living; to whisper courage to them and solutions to their problems; to on dire occasions intervene, just as the Old God did for
me
, so that no mortal who ever held that hero in their heart would be abandoned to die alone."