The Chosen One

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

February - 3,390 BC

Earth: Crash site

NINSIANNA

The stream tumbled down from the mountain into the bowl-shaped oasis, a small island of paradise in the middle of the desert, with a thick strip of vegetation which grew on either side of the stream. Unlike the barren desert, it smelled rich and filled with life.

No wonder the Halifian tribe considered this area sacred!

Ninsianna whirled in a dance, formulating clever things to say to her newest patient using nothing but sign language.

"Free! I am free!"

And not only that, a creature of heaven was now forever in her debt!

Her gait turned into a girlish skip as a small shadow fell across her path. An enormous golden eagle swooped into the stream which widened into a pond behind the rock fall which blocked it.

"An omen!"

The eagle dove beneath the surface, its wings splashing water as it came up carrying a nice, fat fish. She laughed as it carried its squirming dinner up into the sky.

She wracked her memory for what little she knew about amnesia. Mama had spoken of such after a warrior suffered a blow to the head. Usually a few hours would pass and then the memories would return, although Mikhail (she said his name several times and decided she liked the way it rolled across her tongue) appeared to be unusually lucid for someone who couldn't remember his own name. Perhaps he'd misunderstood her question? Or was he withholding information? It didn't matter. Either way, She-Who-Is had answered her prayer.

She reached the brook, swollen with late winter rain which tumbled down from the sacred mountain, and refilled her water skin. Her reflection shone back at her, smeared with Mikhail's blood.

He wouldn't carry her into the heavens if she looked ugly, would he?

She waded into the water and sat down in the spot where the eagle had snatched the fish. It was just deep enough to sink up to her neck. She scrubbed the blood from her hands, and then her body, and then ducked beneath the surface to get her head wet. She stood back up, singing a song of freedom as she ran her fingers through her hair to wash out the dried, clumped blood.

.

Man comes from the sky,

He's going to carry me up into the heavens.

Take me away from here!

Away from the machinations of men.

.

All of a sudden, the birds fell silent. She flipped back her sopping wet hair. At the edge of the oasis stood Jamin and the warriors, leaning over their spears.

A tremor gripped her lower gut.

"Ninsianna!" Jamin beckoned. "I've come to take you home."

Ninsianna stood defiantly.

"Home?" she said. "I don't have a home, remember? You ran to your father like a spoiled brat and made him declare I either marry you, or be banished from the village." She gestured at the oasis. "As you can see, I choose banishment. Now go away!"

The warriors gaped at the silver sky canoe which still streamed smoke from one of the ruined chimneys, though at least it no longer glowed red with fire.

"It's an evil omen," Jamin said. "The gods have cast this object down from the heavens."

"And what would you know of the gods? Oh he who swore on the goddess he would take me to Nineveh? [26] And then, when his friends laughed, cared more for his own prestige than his future bride!"

Jamin flinched.

"You don't understand. My father—"

"Didn't want you to be seen as taking orders from a woman!" she shrieked. "So instead, you broke your promise. So I have broken off our engagement!"

She luxuriated in Jamin's wounded expression as she turned her back on him and crossed her arms. Jamin made a sound like a duck that was having its neck wrung.

The warriors laughed.

"We warned you this would happen!" Firouz said.

"The women in Immanu’s house have always worn the kilts," Dadbeh said.

"Ninsianna's just angry you won't let her boss you around," Tirdard said.

Jamin's cheek twitched as he glanced down at his luxurious four-layered kilt, demarcating him as a person of prestige.

"Perhaps that's why you find her so attractive?" Firouz teased. "You wish her to assume your chiefly duties?"

Dadbeh held his hand out by his groin.

"Oh! Jamin—" Dadbeh said in a high falsetto voice. "Empty out the chamber pots, and then I wish you to service me with your tongue."

"Oh, Ninsianna—" Firouz sidled up to him with a false bass voice "—I am your slave!"

He pretended to lick Dadbeh's hand.

"Oh! Oh! Oo-oh!" Dadbeh groaned with fake pleasure. "Don't stop! Oh! Jamin! Next you shall kiss my toes!"

Tirdard bent over, holding his sides as he laughed.

Jamin's eyes grew black with fury. He pointed at Ninsianna.

"You will come away from this accursed fallen star!"

She jutted out her chin.

"No I won't!"

"Oh, yes you will!"

The water splashed around him as he waded into the oasis, as though the water itself wished to flee. Ninsianna ran for the opposite shore, her heart racing as Jamin caught up with her. He grabbed her by the arm.

"Let me go!"

"Your father sent me to—"

"No!" She kicked and slapped him. "You are NOT my chief! And I will not marry you!"

The warriors laughed.

Jamin grabbed her by the hair.

"You will treat me with respect!"

"I will n—"

Her shriek was cut short as he shoved her face beneath the water. With a panicked shriek, Ninsianna fought to break his grip, but he kept his fingers wrapped securely in her hair. With an ungentle yank, he pulled her back above the surface.

"Do you yield?"

"No!" she sputtered. "I'd rather marry a goat!"

The warriors taunted him.

"Do you need help wrangling that she-goat?" Siamek laughed.

"No," Jamin said. "There's nothing wrong a good beating won't cure."

Ninsianna's blood boiled. How dare he treat her with such disrespect? Not only was she the daughter of a shaman, but she was Lugalbanda's granddaughter! A warrior-shaman so powerful he'd stopped the hearts of their enemies!

She pictured all the terrible things she wanted to do to him. The things they'd whispered her grandfather could do, things Mama forbade of her father. The energy she'd felt earlier when she'd pulled the spear from Mikhail's chest surged through her body. Forming a fist, she hit Jamin as hard as she could.

"I'd rather die!" she shrieked.

As she hit him, she pictured hitting him with a rock.

Jamin's head snapped back.

"You, bi—" Jamin shouted.

The rest of what he said cut off as he shoved her face beneath the water again.

Water rushed up into her nose. She kicked and hit with all of her might, but Jamin was more than twice her weight and had her by the hair. With a yank, he pulled her back above the surface.

"Do you yield?"

"Never!" she gasped for breath.

She landed her heel in his testicles.

"Ow!" Jamin doubled over.

The warriors laughed.

"Hey, Jamin," Firouz said. "I think you met your match!"

Jamin's spirit-light turned a furious shade of crimson.

"I will teach you some respect, woman!"

He shoved her head beneath the water, and this time he held her, until it felt as though her lungs might explode. Her limbs grew weak as her body used up its breath. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. The world grew dark and far away.

'Mother? Help me…' she prayed. 'I'm not strong enough to fight him on my own…'

Suddenly Jamin loosened his grip. She popped back above the surface, gasping for precious air. All five men stared at the sky canoe. Walking towards them, Mikhail came with his one good wing outstretched, the other dragging uselessly behind him.

"Winged demon!" they all shrieked.

The warriors lifted up their spears.

Down the front of Mikhail's shirt, his blood had dried into a dark brown stain.

"He is my protector," she shouted, hoping to panic them before they noticed how badly injured he was. "Run, before he smites you!"

Mikhail held up some kind of stick. Solid black. Larger than a knife. A bolt of blue lightning shot out of the end like a fireball. Rocks exploded near the warrior's feet, tossing them backwards as though they'd just been rammed by a herd of aurochs. Smoke and a scent like a thunderstorm drifted in the wind. With a shout, the warriors ran away.

Jamin grabbed her and shoved her behind his back. He eyed the spear he'd left on the banks of the stream, no doubt calculating his best chance to regain the high ground.

Mikhail gestured towards them with the strange, black firestick.

"Lig di dul," he growled.

A second bolt of lightning landed perilously close to Jamin’s side. A burst of water geysered up into the air, and then showered down, jolting them with an unpleasant sensation as though they'd both been stung by a hive of bees. Jamin yelped, but he did not let go of her.

"Get behind me," Jamin said. "I'll protect you."

Mikhail pointed the firestick at Jamin’s chest.

"Ninsianna, teacht anseo!" [27] He gestured for her to come to shore.

"Over my dead body!" Jamin shouted.

He broadened his stance to appear as threatening as a man could possibly appear whilst standing waist deep in water with no weapon and nowhere to run.

The two alpha-predators stared one another down, both of them eager to claim her to be their prize. A thrill of excitement rippled through Ninsianna's body. Which combatant would win? Mikhail had the high ground, but he was also badly injured, while Jamin was in top physical form. She needed to distract him before he realized the dark coloring of Mikhail's shirt was blood.

Forming a fist, she punched Jamin in the face.

She broke free.

Splashing water, she skittered up the banks of the stream. Beads of cold sweat glittered above blue lips as Mikhail swayed, barely able to stand with his injuries. If he lost consciousness, Jamin would surely kill him. She ran into his arms and snaked her arms around his waist as though she embraced her lover.

"Hang on," she whispered.

Using every ounce of healing energy she'd ever possessed, she called upon it now and fed it through her hands. A warm, pleasant tingle rippled through her body. Mikhail stopped swaying.

Jamin looked from her to Mikhail, his black eyes filled with dismay, and then hatred as he jumped to the conclusion Ninsianna intended for him to jump to.

"You said that you loved me?"

The chief's son stepped towards her, his hand outstretched like a common beggar. Ninsianna lifted her chin and hugged Mikhail in a universal, feminine symbol of mine.

"I never said I loved you," Ninsianna hissed. "I told you I would marry you because you promised to treat me like an equal! But then you reneged, so I found somebody better!"

Jamin stiffened.

Mikhail's firestick hummed next to her ear, higher and higher pitched, like a pack of jackals working itself up into a killing frenzy. He held it out, a shrieking, angry raptor about to go in for the kill.

"Téigh ar!" Mikhail growled. "Faigh an ifreann as anseo!"

"You'll regret this!" Jamin said.

He bolted out of the stream and grabbed his spear. Without looking back, he stalked off in the same direction as his compatriots, his expression so dark it gave her chills.

As soon as Jamin climbed up out of the valley, Mikhail collapsed, dragging her down with him. Wiggling to extricate herself from his enormous wings, she spat out a mouthful of black-brown feathers.

She looked at the landslide where Jamin had just disappeared. She should feel something. Maybe regret? But she felt nothing. Only relief that their engagement was at an end.

She kneeled on the ground next to her patient. The ground was hard and rocky, so she wiggled her lap beneath his head.

"It's okay," she whispered. "Jamin is gone."

She touched the base of his throat. Although deathly pale, a steady throb greeted her sensitive fingertips. With a sigh, she shut her eyes as the energy she'd felt earlier abandoned her, leaving her as tired and weak as a newborn lamb.

Out here in the daylight, she studied his magnificent, twenty-cubit wings, brownish-black, with sable stripes which grew paler the closer you got to his skin. She ran her fingers through his feathers, relishing the contrast between the long, stiff primary feathers and the soft, downy under feathers.

Wings! The goddess had sent her a man with wings!

She ran her fingers through hair the color of roasted hazelnuts, a sharp contrast to his flesh which was as pale and creamy as goat's milk. Her fingers memorized each exquisite detail. His chiseled features were not those of the Ubaid, but the flint warriors shaped to adorn their spears: sharp, beautiful and deadly. She ran her fingers over his muscular chest and relished each striation, the body of a warrior in peak condition.

Her very own demi-god!

"Thank you for sending a champion to rescue me," she prayed.

She closed her eyes and focused the healing light of She-Who-Is through her hands to speed his recovery, raising the forbidden magic with the sing-song voice of a shaman. Her hands tingled; warmer, even, than when she had prayed to heal the Chief's son.

Oh, thank the goddess! She-Who-Is had answered her prayers!

The birds began to sing again. A frog croaked. Locusts buzzed. The eagle returned and snatched another fish. As it carried its dinner up to the sky, she raised her face up to the sun.

"Can I keep him? I'd really like to keep him."

She touched his black-brown wings and frowned.

"But what would a creature of heaven want with me?"