The Witch's Want Ch. 04

Well now I am here, and by the warm slit of the goddess, someone will die here after those over there across the field are dead if I cannot know who I face on this field. Now, GIVE ME A NAME!"

Their attention was drawn suddenly to a group of about thirty ragged-looking men on horseback who rode onto the field from the side. They seemed to be looking toward their right toward the Martu and Sumerian lines and appeared to be largely unaware that they were riding past the teeth of the Akkadian king's host. As unkempt and undisciplined as they appeared, they were the bait and they played their part well.

When one of them did look to his left, they all could see how large his eyes grew in apparent surprise. With a shout from him, they all looked and turned their horses to flee toward their own lines.

The leader of the king's scouts felt his head being turned by the grasp of the king's hand in his hair.

"A NAME!" He bellowed.

"Ur-Nammu, Lord." The leader said.

The other man spat in the dirt, "Lugalbanda's pup. What foolishness is this? His riders do not even know where they are!"

He squinted into the morning sunlight that shone into his eyes and nodded with a grin, "This might be worth the ride yet."

He turned to his mounted troops and stood in his stirrups. "Earn your pay and ride them down!" He gave the signal to the leaders of his archers and foot-soldiers to advance.

The leader of the mounted unit bellowed his order to charge and off they went, riding hard, a hundred men and horses after the others. The king yelled his instructions as he worked his way to the front of them that if they found the leader, he was to be spared for the king's blade alone. The word was passed quickly among the riders in the thunder of hooves.

A lone arrow sailed in the direction of the approaching charge and it fell far short. No Akkadian even marked it.

But Farah saw Ur-Nammu lower his bow and turn. He hadn't shaved in a few days and it gave him a slightly darker look as he nodded, "There is your mark! Wait for them to pass."

He looked back up the small rise at the sixty riders there and smiled as he took in the cool autumn air and let the breath out.

There were four hundred more on horseback just over the ridge and over three thousand on foot behind them. In the long gully before him three hundred and twenty archers crouched waiting for the word. A minute later, Ur-Nammu noticed the large man on the fine-looking charger now leading the charge.

A man who led from the front, he nodded in appreciation. He could respect that.

"The one who leads the chase – on the fine black steed, leave him be! The rest, choose your targets when they pass the mark!" He turned to the group of his own riders there on the rise behind him and waved once. Several of them turned to ride out of sight in the other direction. They joined up with their groups and filtered away quickly.

The word went down the line of archers quickly. Ur-Nammu saw one young man begin to draw back his bow near him, and he laid his hand on the archer's shoulder. "Not yet," he smiled, "How many fights have you been in?"

Ur-Nammu knew the answer from the way that the boy licked his lips nervously, but at least he had the nerve to look his general in the eye, and Ur-Nammu liked that as well.

"This is my first, Lord."

Ur-Nammu smiled, "If you wish to live long enough to have a second fight, do not throw your arrows away too soon, friend, You might wish with all your heart for just one more later. Watch me and shoot when I do. You will not have long to wait."

The boy nodded and his general clapped his hand on the young shoulder before turning to walk forward toward the charge with his bow in his left hand and a long pike in his right. He walked up the small slope out of the gully and planted the pike into the ground, before drawing an arrow.

The King saw one man appear out of nowhere far up ahead of him and wondered about it for a moment, but rather than come to the conclusion that if one man could rise out of the dust, then perhaps more could just as easily, he arrived at a different supposition.

The man was large, and obviously a warrior, he saw. He also noted that he was dressed more in readiness for combat than the ragged crowd that his own riders were chasing. But he was obviously the leader of something, and he watched as the man drew back on a heavy war bow.

This had to be Ur-Nammu.

"That one, "he bellowed, "Spare that one for me!"

The man to his right tumbled backwards out of his saddle, speared through by a long, heavy arrow. The king gritted his teeth in grudging admiration. It might have been a lucky shot, but he doubted it. His jaw fell as he saw hundreds of archers appear out of the dirt.

The ones being chased had narrowed themselves down to a line of only two riders wide if it could be done, each rider hunched down as close to his horse as he could manage. Even so, there were losses from their own archers and a few were taken by the pursuing riders who could manage to shoot fairly well from the back of a charging horse as well. They only hoped that their comrades would allow them the moment that they needed to peel away to both side when they got close enough for it.

Ur-Nammu saw the young man standing as near to him as he could. Farah saw his warm and confident smile as he tried to offer encouragement and just plain courage in the middle of what amounted to the madness of men engaged in killing each other.

"Work at it steadily now, lad. Do not just shoot. Choose a target for your arrows and think of nothing more than trying to hit a rabbit who runs to you in confusion. The horses are fair game, but remember that with a bit of luck, you might catch one after this is over and then you can ride home and not have to walk, yes? The man on the horse is trying to kill you, so he is the best target. A horse has value afterwards, far more than the man."

He looked over and smiled as he saw the young face, not so full with fear now and working the bow methodically. "I hope that you remembered to bring your dagger with you. The fight will get too close for arrows soon."

He saw the young man nod once and grinned. Farah watched as Ur-Nammu drew one arrow after another and pulled back the bow that she doubted that most men alive today could even draw in comfort. Ur-Nammu's lips kissed the bowstring every time and he held each shot back until his breath and the target lined up in time for the release.

The young general had a hope that the king's fine horse might survive the day, but he knew that the status of the rider had something to do with the casting of the steed's fate as well. Still, he was a little sad as he saw the great horse's legs begin to fold as he caught a glimpse of the arrow that had made it just over the horse's breastplate to drive the beast down.

He sighed and set down his bow to pull the pike out of the ground. "You may stay close to me, boy, "he said, "but not too close. I will need the room to swing this now." He began to walk toward where the king was picking himself up out of the dust.

"So, the Sumerian's whelp comes to play at fighting," the king shouted, his eyes blazing in hatred as he drew his sword, "It won't be as easy as you think, pup."

Farah watched Ur-Nammu as he shrugged while beginning to set the long pike in motion. "Easy enough," the general smiled coldly.

The king began to advance, but his sword rang as it left his hand to fly off a ways. His face wore a look of sudden surprise.

"Half a moment," Ur-Nammu said, "Go and get your blade. Have no fear, I will wait." He stepped toward the heaving beast on its side and killed it mercifully before turning to see the king running at him with his sword again.

A bladed pike in the hands of a peasant offers the advantage of keeping a swordsman out of range for a time, but if the man with the blade has some skill, the advantage wears thin quickly from the weight and effort of swinging and thrusting such a long and heavy thing.

But the king wasn't facing a peasant and the fight was short and sharp. Within a minute, the king was dead, and within two more, the arrogant head leered from the tip of the pike where it had been jammed butt-first into the ground. Ur-Nammu walked back to retrieve his bow and found the young archer there holding it out to him.

"Your name, boy," he smiled as the archer stared at the grisly sight, "give me a name, since we find ourselves fighting together today."

"A – Amad, lord general," the voice came as a hoarse whisper.

"Don't look at him too long, Amad," Ur-Nammu smiled, "It's nothing more than show to upset his fighters. There's more to do yet. Stay alive, and learn." He waved and his foot soldiers began to stream over the rise to advance at a walk toward the opposition which was nearing them.

"There are so many," the boy said, "How ...?"

"That is my worry, Amad, "the general smiled as he drew his sword, "Yours is to stay close and alive. Can you use a sword?"

"Aye," the boy said, "but I have no money to buy one."

"Well, there are no shops or merchants here today, but there is a perfectly good one there in front of you on the ground," the general said, "it's previous owner has no need of it now."

"But it is a king's sword ..."

Farah watched the long hair fly from Ur-Nammu's face as he grinned and picked up the sword to hand it to the young man. She suddenly wished that she could hold him, since he seemed to have such confidence and resigned clarity as to what had to be done in the middle of the insanity around them.

"Then perhaps it will last you the day and not break," he said as he offered it.

They began to walk with the others. "Think of it like this," he said, "It is a bit of hard and bloody work. But once it is done, the land and people here will have a new king. They won't care much at first, as long as they are not treated badly by us, and then after. All of the lands will have one leader and then it is a nation. The people will see that as a good thing in a little time, and feel proud, as cities grow and trade settles down, instead of a pack of little lords, each one squeezing them for all they are worth. It must happen, Amad, and it already has in other places."

He wiped a bit of sweat from his brow, "And if it does not happen, then the little lords will be swept away by other kings from other lands, but those kings and their armies will not be the same people and the people here will suffer for it then, because they will be crushed under the heel of fighters from outside who speak differently, and live differently and all of that."

Their conversation faded out as the two armies clashed and Farah watched as Ur-Nammu settled in to the carnage, always looking to see how the line of his fighters fared and bellowing orders and commands where it was needed. Amad was cut in a few places and bruised heavily, but he lived, since in addition to everything else, the young lord general made sure to help him stay alive as much as he could.

"I grow weary," Amad said, breathing heavily.

Ur-Nammu didn't appear to have heard him for a moment as he looked around them. He grabbed at the spear of a man and pulled it toward himself for a second. The other man's eyes widened and he pulled back, thinking that the one that he faced was trying to disarm him, but Ur-Nammu pushed at that instant and the man lost his footing, He fell to the ground backwards and writhed with a fatal slash across his middle.

"Nothing to be done about that, Amad, and it goes on long after you think that you have no strength to hold the blade up any longer." He grunted as he grabbed a man's tunic near the throat to pull him into the path of his comrade's dagger. He finished them both a moment later.

"This will not go much longer. Our riders are carving up the asses of these ones from behind. I can see them, so it will not be much longer."

Farah watched as Ur-Nammu cursed a little, having to reach farther than he'd wanted to grab someone's throat to pull him off the boy.

---------------------

Farah found herself lying where she'd been all along, panting and sweating, frozen with her body's tension. She looked around her and saw that she was in her own home once more and the ghostly cat was there, smiling down at her.

"That was ... I've never, ... It was so brutal, and cruel," she said, gasping a little. "I wanted to hold myself to him. I wanted to be safe under his armor."

The cat nodded, "It has always been, though today, I think they do it from farther away from each other. Your choice would have been a bad one if you were there, though it is easily understood, Farah. But Ur-Nammu never hid himself from anyone in a fight, and all could see who it was who led his host. That is where all of the arrows flew most often. He was often wounded, but the power of Jebel Bishri was with him and kept most of the wounds very shallow.

I was there that day, and you saw some of it from my eyes. Before the start, I was one of the reasons that the Akkadians heard nothing from their scouts, and when it began, I was with him. Unless I learned something that he needed to know, we stayed close, but seldom spoke. But you saw him as he lived and fought, no?"

Farah nodded, "Yes."

The eyes above her looked down, but didn't blink. Farah realized that they never blinked, and of course, she knew why as the apparition continued, "And you saw that it was something that was done for old reasons, I think. Land, money, and the power that comes from them, and you saw that he was there to do as he had to do."

Farah thought about it and nodded. From the vantage point of where she was, it made little sense, but in that place and time, she could see it, so she nodded.

"And do you still feel love for him, this young general that was, so long ago? He might just as easily been building you a home or growing the grain that would feed you both. It just happens faster and it is more cruel for a time. It is harder, bloodier, and far closer to one's life or death. An unseen bowman, a misstep, or the loss of an instant of time as one's blade is snagged on a tunic and ..."

Farah nodded, "Yes, though I'm glad that that's over for him, and yes, I still feel the same way."

"Well that is a very good thing, Farah, that you do," she laughed, "because no matter what you wish to tell yourself, you are wet for him right now, I feel it from where I sit."

"Something else that he likes," the cat said, sending the thought to Farah's mind with a touch of one pad against her hand.

"I – I've never done that, "Farah said with a bit of shock.

"Try tonight with your bath," Dimme said, "He will never ask for it, but he favors this very much if it is offered to him, and he is always very gentle, but Farah, try this alone first. He is in another body now, and I am almost certain from when I saw you with him outside here that he is the same length as he was, but this body, ... a bit thicker, I am almost certain. Do not be afraid, he would never hurt you, but if you want to really please him, then learn this.

Not the first night, but if he ever asks you how you know these things, then you may tell him. If you tell him the first night that I came to you, he may be stuck in sadness for a time, and that would not be fair to either of you. When you tell him, he will not be able to believe it, so then, ask him to open his mouth and then quickly lick under the roof of his mouth. It tickles him, and he would only allow this from me and only as a surprise. If he looks shocked, then lick his nose quickly and as wetly as you can only once. He would always say that he hated it, but I think not. Anyway, he might believe you then."

She stretched herself out beside Farah and smiled, "Hold still once more, Farah. I will touch you again and teach you to dance for him the way that he likes. Not many know how to do this anymore." She reached to place her paw again.

A moment later they smiled at each other. "You will know that the time for dancing is over if you dance near to him and raise your arms over your head, facing away from him while you shake this," she said prodding Farah's bottom gently from the side, "That is when he likes to begin it, most often. His hands will find your hips and it will be time for the beginning of something else."

The spirit looked troubled then. "I feel like my time is coming to an end, so I must hurry now," Dimme said a little sadly, "I wish that I could know you as a friend, Farah. It would mean much to me."

"I feel the same way," Farah said, "I am grateful for everything."

"It is a little hard for me to do even still," Dimme said, "teaching another woman about my man, but Ur-Nammu should be happy, and so should you. Besides my pleasure at knowing you, I will get something from this. When I awoke, I heard my mother calling to me and Ur-Nammu's mother as well. They were great friends and my mother owed his mother very much for her kindness long ago. My mother was imprisoned by a sorcerer and turned into what you see in me. Nisi-ini-su helped with many others so that she could at least change back to a woman. My brothers and sisters were all like me, and some of our blood still shows itself, most often in girls who can change as I can.

I was not there when Ur-Nammu was slain. I was at our home with a new babe. But I knew when it happened from a feeling in my breast, and then I waited to hear. I was mad for a time, and woke a day later in chains so that I couldn't hurt myself anymore. After that, I just raised our children and held everything inside me.

One day, years later, I traveled to some of the tribes alone. The truces were being broken and we were being murdered again. Without Ur-Nammu, everyone had retreated to Jebel Bishri and the dream was over. His own brother took the throne of Sumer and turned against us. So I raised a small army on my own from the tribes, but the time for that was past. The wave had been broken. Many kings were against us and slowly we were killed off. But not before I held the brother's bleeding throat in my teeth.

When I knew that I had reached that one day when I might not be alive at the end, I threw myself into the fight and changed to a woman in the middle of it so that I would be killed more easily."

She looked down," Nothing is left now, but my bones lay at the bottom of a covered pit. I awoke and hearing what I did, I answered."

She shook her head, "For what I did, I have not been allowed to Jebel Bishri again until now, and even so, I did not see it as it really is, for it has always been hidden in illusion. It is a dry and dusty pit on the top of an old mountain, but I went. I saw no one, but I was told by a voice where I must go to dig. I have come here from there by one of the roads of the dead which ends near here. It is a small opening to a cave on your land."

Farah nodded, "I've seen it."

"Good, "Dimme nodded, as she took Farah's hand. "I have two more things to show you. For the first, I thought at first that I would need to, ... " she hesitated, and then lifted their two clasped hands. "This will work, I think. Close your eyes and try to think with what is there between your legs. Follow the things that I show you in your mind and feel what you must do and when."

Farah was confused, but closed her eyes and shuddered her way through three forced orgasms inside of seven minutes. She lay there covered in sweat, not understanding how it had happened, but knowing full well what Dimme had taught her without even touching her body.

"That is what you must do at every turn when you feel him at the right place for it."

"Thank you," Farah gasped, still somewhat amazed, "What is the last thing?" she asked, hoping that it wouldn't be another demonstration such as this.

Dimme smiled, "Nothing like this, Farah. I could not think of another way that did not have you lying with a dead thing. Here,"