The Dark Lord's Vessel

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Now go, attack the Amalekites

And totally destroy all that belongs to them.

Do not spare them; put to death

Men and women, children and infants,

Cattle and sheep, camels and donkeys.

.

—Samuel 15:3

.

ATURDOKHT

Halifian women were forbidden to hunt, but now that Aturdokht was a widow, food did not magically appear in her cook pot. She preferred the bādiyat ash-shām, away from their tent-group where family intrigue meant she could never turn her back. It was only a matter of time before the lion of the desert succumbed to a younger lion, and then where would she be? The first thing a new lion always did was kill off the old lion's offspring so the lionesses would mate with him and their meat and milk would go to his own cubs.

Balqis gurgled contentedly from her back, reminding her of why she'd come out into the desert to hunt.

"Shh, pretty girl. You'll scare away our supper!"

She fished out the magical eyes Jamin had given her and used the strange talisman to search the hills for prey. Jamin swore he would raise Balqis as his own daughter instead of abandoning the unwanted infant girl in the desert like the other suitors would do.

But she didn't want to marry anybody!

Oh, Roshan! Balqis was all she had left of the man who had been her heart and soul. How could she marry Jamin when Roshan had been killed helping him rescue a worthless harlot? The same daughter-of-a-hyena she suspected he still loved even now?

"If only Jamin wasn't handsome!" she spoke to her dead husband. "It would be easier if I knew every time he touched me, I would cringe and think of you!"

Tears welled in her green eyes. Why couldn't they all just leave her alone? But an unmarried woman was a burden to her tent-group. If she didn't choose a husband soon, her eldest brother Zahid would kidnap her and pass her amongst the mercenaries he ran with like a common w***e. So far, her father had indulged her grieving, but it was long past the time she should have remarried.

A breath of wind kissed her face and brushed a tuft of auburn out of her mouth. It carried with it a pleasant musky scent, familiar and male. Roshan. Her tears left salty streaks down her cheeks that evaporated before they reached her chin. How could she marry Jamin when every time she went to sleep, she dreamed she slept in Roshan's arms?

A small, furry head peeked up out from between two rocks. She stuck the magic eyes back into her satchel and drew her bow. The rodent peered above the rocks nervously, watching for a predator.

Patience. Patience. Wait for it to show itself completely. If she could keep their cook pots full like a son, maybe she wouldn't be forced to marry anyone at all?

Her arm shook from the tension of the bowstring, but she waited to release it until the rodent scurried out into the open. The fletching caressed her cheek as it shot out of the bow.

"Yes!"

She hurried over to the gerbil which still twitched despite the arrow which had caught it in the chest.

"Thank you, Dhat-Bhataan, for giving us this bounty." She picked up a rock and smashed its head to make certain it would not suffer.

"Look, Balqis!" She held it up by a hind leg so the infant strapped to her back could see. "We'll have gerbil for supper tonight! We'll tell your grandfather you helped me capture it."

Balqis cooed and babbled the word 'gerbil.' At just over one turn of the seasons, her daughter could now walk, but she moved too slowly unless she carried her in a sling. She dared not leave her in the tent. Her eldest brother, Zahid, had already kidnapped Balqis twice and abandoned her in the desert, claiming she had wandered off. Each time, Roshan had come to her in a vision and shown her where to find their daughter.

Even in death, her husband still watched out for them.

She tied the gerbil to her belt. If she could capture two more there would be enough to flavor a stew for Nusrat's family; himself, two wives, six children, along with herself and Balqis. She was in a precarious situation, a woman without a husband.

If I marry the Ubaid chieftain, I will no longer have to struggle…

She touched her pocket which carried the gifts Jamin had given her, the paring knife, the whetstone, and the newer gifts, including the one he claimed would allow him to find her if she ever needed help. He'd given it to her before he'd gone in search of the white-winged Angelic, a great and powerful chief who might help her avenge her husband.

She shot two more gerbils, and then sat down to nurse Balqis. She stared into her daughter's eyes, golden brown like Roshan's had been, as the child latched onto her n****e and suckled her life-giving milk. A lump rose in her throat.

"She looks just like you," she spoke to her dead husband. "If it wasn't for her, I'd have cast my body off a cliff."

But what of the handsome Ubaid chieftain?

Tears welled in her eyes. She liked Jamin. Sometimes she even found herself fantasizing about what it would be like if she let him take her to his bed. But if she married him, would she still dream she slept snuggled up to Roshan? Or would she forget what it had felt like when Roshan had made her heart sing?

"He is settled," she said unto the wind. "He would build me a magnificent house that would feel like a prison!"

She took the tek-no-lo-gee out of her pocket and spread out the folding silver mirror that gathered magic from the sun. The small, flat rectangle lit up and made a bird-like chirping sound. It needed to worship the sun at least two hours each day to work, but it was small enough to carry with her wherever she went.

He is trying so hard. Why can't I just let Roshan go?

The wind whispered the answer, carrying with it the scent of water from the far-off river. A heart for a heart. As soon as he brought her the winged demon's heart, she would make a burnt offering of it to bless Roshan's spirit, and then she would move on because, deep down, she knew her husband wanted her to live.

"It's time for our lessons!" Aturdokht said brightly to her daughter.

Balqis reached for the shiny surface and smeared a milky fingerprint on the glass. Aturdokht wiped it clean with the edge of her woven robe. The first magic image splayed across the screen, the magnificent, red lizard which Jamin called a dragon. The lizard people said the dragon-god was the source of their magic; Kasib, Ilya, and the pig-man Katlego. They were all Jamin's friends and had treated her father kindly when he'd been injured, going so far as to put Zahid back into his place. Why, their chief's man, Sergeant Dahaka, claimed to have even met this dragon-god once when he'd been a little boy, unlike the desert gods who none had ever seen.

"Shay'tan be praised," a voice hissed in the lizard people's language.

"Shay'tan be praised," Aturdokht repeated the greeting which was the first thing the tek-no-lo-gee said every time she turned it on.

"Sh-sh-tan!" Balqis repeated.

Aturdokht kissed her daughter's raven hair.

"Such a smart girl! If only you'd been born a son!"

She flipped through the pictures, many of them things she had never seen, and repeated each word, memorizing it and putting it into context. Jamin said that even if she chose not to marry him, he still wanted her to learn the lizard people's language because then Papa wouldn't be dependent upon the mercenaries who always lied.

Like the ones her brother Zahid consorted with...

Accursed Zahid! She should shoot him in the back the next time she found him in the desert alone! It was only a matter of time before he slipped a knife between their father's ribs and claimed it was his turn to be shaykh, and then where would she be?

Gradually Balqis began to fidget. She was smart like Roshan, but had inherited her own sense of restlessness. Aturdokht rolled up the silver screen and tucked it back into her satchel. Now that the tek-no-lo-gee had worshipped the sun, it would keep her company all night.

She heaved Balqis onto her back and secured her with the carrying sling.

"Just one more gerbil?" She counted the three she had. "One more gerbil and then we'll have enough stew to share with Lubaid's mother?"

Inaam was her father's lowest-ranking wife, and the only one she liked. She had watched out for her and Nusrat while they'd still been little so their father's sister-wives didn't smother them in their sleep, and in return, they now watched out for her as best they could.

She dug out the magical eyes and twisted the knob that made things come into view. Scanning back and forth, she searched the hills for a rat, a serpent or a lizard. All would be tasty roasted on a fire.

Movement caught her eye. She turned the knob to focus far away. What was that? A dust-devil? No. The hair stood up on the back of her neck. Men. Lots of men.

Balqis began to cry.

"Shh!"

She turned the knob, determined to find out who ran towards their tent group. She spied her eldest brother Zahid, but the men who surrounded him did not appear to be kin. Some wore the robes of the Amorite slavers, others the fringed kilts of the Uruk or other tribes.

Mercenaries!

"Where is Lubaid?"

She adjusted the magical eyes. She could see no sign of her younger half-brother. A sick feeling settled into the pit of her stomach. One by men the men pulled weapons as they split into two groups, one to flush the people out of their tents, the other to slaughter them as they tried to run to safety.

She grabbed the tek-no-lo-gee and pressed the little red button Jamin had said to push if ever she needed help. Abandoning the gerbils, she clutched Balqis to her back and ran as fast as she could back to their tent.

"Papa!" her voice rose in panic. "Papa!"