Demon Child Ch. 10

The bag was just a little larger than her hand and weighty. The leather was stiff and as she tried to untie the knot holding the pouch closed the leather broke apart in her hands, a number of strange looking tarnished silver coins spilled out, and then the glimmer of gold as a long complex filigreed chain dropped into her palm. Hanging from the chain was a large gem, set in gold. The gem seemed to glow with a rainbow of fire. Aylanna held it up to the fading sun and marveled at the way the light caught and glimmered. Her breath caught and she made a soft wondering sound.

Jhardron looked up, his eye catching glimmer of gold. "What have you found?"

Aylanna held out the coins and the necklace and he looked at them curiously. "The demon has left you a legacy."

"I can keep it?"

"I cannot see a reason to deny you that. The armor and the sword I will take back to court to present the Khan. He will find them a curiosity. He has an interest in the demons of myth." Then Aylanna sensed a fleeting chill in Jhardron's spirit, but then it was gone, "He will be very interested in you." Aylanna carefully tied the coins and necklace up in a corner of her blue scarf.

As the bones gradually burned away, Aylanna sat huddled close to the warmth of the fire, wrapping her arms around her long naked legs, the cool night air making her shiver. She began to speak softly, staring into the flames. "His spirit was trapped here, held prisoner by iron and hate. All he had wanted was to go to the lands of his gods."

Jhardron pulled her to lean against him, wrapping his arms around her body, trying to keep her warm. "You were screaming in a language I did not know, but you said your name and then screamed out the name of the regiment."

"The dead are always jealous of the living. He wanted me to go with him. He said I did not belong here. I told him that I was Twisted Dagger. I said that my destiny was here among the Bak. I told him to go and he did." Aylanna snuggled up inside the protection of his arms. "I am thankful that you brought me here to do this thing. It was part of my destiny. A long time ago Kharthmah told my mother that the reason she could not abort me was because I had a destiny unfulfilled." Aylanna's voice dropped to almost a whisper. "She hated him so much. Her hate is all that I remember about her. I wonder why I do not share her ill will. I hated the Ramaldi, in some ways I hated her for abandoning me, but for this demon I held no hate. Perhaps he needed that to be freed." She shrugged and poked a little at the fire, "I guess that is not my destiny."

"Do you know your destiny?"

"The future is beyond the vision of any witch. It is a cloudy shifting thing, each time you look at it, the path has changed." Aylanna felt a prickle of premonition, "But I do see that my path follows in the footsteps of another." She felt a chill and shrank closer to the warmth of his chest and yawned, letting her head fall against his chest.

She only woke briefly when he stood and carried her from the clearing to the camp the other warriors had made further down the valley. They had built several small fires and Jhardron carefully scraped the fired to one side and lay down with her on the warmed earth, holding her close to his body, seeking to share each other's warmth as the night grew colder.

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The next morning was still and frosty cold; Aylanna was shivering violently and hugging up close to Xin'sha to keep warm, her breath turning to smoke in the icy air as she chewed a small handful of dried meat. She thought to herself that it seemed that the further they traveled north the colder the nights grew. The days still grew hot as the midday sun beat down but the endless wind came with the heat.

Finally she pulled away from her mare's warm body and slipped away from camp, whispering to one of the guards that she was going to relieve herself. Aylanna hurried the short distance to the little clearing and stood looking at it in the harsh morning light. The only reminder that the demon had ever stood there was the small patch of unnaturally bare earth, the broken stub of the stake he had been bound to, and the cold remains of the fire. Carefully, she kicked the ashes about, spreading them across the ground. Softly she spoke aloud to the silent glade, "Now my destiny is my own."

When she returned, the warriors were mounted and waiting. Aylanna blushed and mumbled an apology for making them wait. This time as they rode, Jhardron dropped back and rode beside Aylanna. To her surprise he untied the lead rope, carefully reminding her in formal tones that a warrior must be in control of his emotions at all times. Aylanna nodded gravely and cautiously picked up the reins determined to keep a calm and focused mind. As Jhardron moved his stallion to the head of the small group, it was natural for the ha'akh to move to the rear and follow at the back of the warriors.

The pace was not so swift this morning as Jhardron was setting a much more sedate pace. Aylanna could see that one of the warriors had the huge sword lashed behind his saddle along with a mass of rusted chain links that Aylanna knew was the metal ring shirt and the chain that had bound the demon. The sword stuck out a distance on either of side of the horse and the demon girl wondered to herself how the demon had wielded such a massive weapon. Thoughtfully, she fingered the heavy lump in the corner of her scarf, an idle thought crossing her mind that she wished for some warmer clothing and some pockets or perhaps a belt and purse and that she had the means to trade for such things now.

It was midday when they met the wagons. And to her surprise, Aylanna found herself wishing for nothing more than to sleep and she climbed into the wagon beside Tollarra, mumbling and yawning, "I am so tired."

Tollarra clucked and reached out her arms, "Come here, little girl. I was worried that something bad had happened to you again."

Aylanna smiled and shook her head, "No, it was nothing bad, just something that needed to be done. But now that it is finished, I need to rest." Somehow she knew that while there were still voices on the wind, they were powerless over her now. Sleep held no fear for her. She lay down and sighed happily as the older ha'akh pulled her head over into her soft and ample lap, gently stroking the younger woman's short hair, crooning a soft lullaby.

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Once more in the dream she was flying across the grass, the thunder of hooves ringing in her ears. She could feel the stretch and pull of her legs as they reached for each next long stride. There was no question, she was the horse. There was no odd duality as she sensed both her and the horse's body, this time she was the horse. Curiously, she slowed and looked around, realizing she was alone in a sea of grass. She called out and was surprised to hear a high clear whinny pour forth from her chest and throat. Arching her neck and prancing in a circle she tipped her head catching glimpses of the horse's body, her body, as she cast her gaze about. She was surprised to see that she was not the red of Xin'sha, but her coat was a perfect shining white.

The wind was full of voices, murmuring voices and more than that, full of scent. Snorting deeply she pulled the smells into her nose and chest, savoring them. They spoke to her as eloquently as the voices, drawing pictures in her mind of the world around her. And there was one scent in particular, rich and musky, that was irresistible, electrifying. Again she was flying across the grass, her hooves drumming in time with her heartbeat, seeking out the source of this intoxicating aroma.

The black stallion stood on the brink of the horizon, tall and handsome. She stopped and called a long ringing neigh that spoke in the eternal language, calling to him, challenging him, begging to be pursued, conquered, and possessed. His answering bray made her heart lurch; and as he approached with a stiff legged trot, his neck arched, his weapon unsheathed, hanging heavy beneath his belly, she squealed in defiance and fled.

The sound of his heavy hooves beating the ground close behind her was a delicious mixture of terror and wild exhilarated excitement. She knew he would catch her, there was no question, but the chase was part of it, she needed to be captured before she could surrender. She ran with her tail up, well aware that her scent was intoxicating him, driving him mad with the single-minded need to make her his. When he overtook her and sank his teeth in her hindquarter, she kicked out and dodged to the side, allowing herself to be driven in a wide circle.

Finally she slowed and stopped, standing on rigid, trembling legs, her head down, blowing hard. He trotted in a slow proud circle around her, a triumphant dance of victory. When she felt him nuzzle her, sniffing at her venya, she arched her back and raised her tail, instinctively assuming the posture of submission. His weight upon her back was almost crushing, and as his weapon pierced deep into her belly, he sank his teeth into her shoulder, holding her prisoner. She screamed as she felt his seed pour forth into her, filling her with life.

And then he was gone. The dream changed. She was no longer alone, now she ran at the head of a vast and countless herd. Hundreds, maybe thousands of horses poured across the grasslands, the sound of their hooves a deep and endless thunder. She ran at the head of them, a shining white figure leading them, guiding them. Ahead she saw a figure of a man. He was mounted on a black stallion, the same black stallion, and Aylanna knew she was bringing the horses to him, giving them to him.

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Aylanna woke to Tollarra's gentle shake and soft words, "Wake up, Sister, it is time to make camp."

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Thank you for taking the time to read my story.

This story contains many words from the language of the Bak culture that I have created. The meaning of most of these words is easily inferred from their context. A ha'akh is the lowest rank of female slave assigned to serve a regiment of warriors.

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xantu