Demon Child Ch. 06

Kwal'kek nodded and handed the rope into Neekah's hands. "Tim'kah, come show this ha'akh how to tether her mare." As Tim'kah led them to the tie rope, the mare followed calmly. Neekah reached up and gently stroked her neck. The mare turned her head to Neekah, acutely aware of the woman next to her. Her mind flowed gently into the horse. She sensed the horse's mild surprise and wonder at this new experience. Neekah let love and reassurance flow into the mare as she whispered, "Greetings, marmak."

Neekah became aware that the life force of the mare was not alone; there was a tiny spark of life flickering deep in the heart of the mare. Silently she congratulated the mare. 'You carry a life within you little mother.' She turned to Tim'kah. "I will call her Xin'sha, the Bak word for happiness."

"A good name for such a pretty mare."

Neekah had carefully folded her green and yellow dress into her bed roll and wore her shift and her blue scarf knotted around her head and hanging over her shoulders. She stayed by the mare's side, stroking Xin'sha's neck and nose, as she watched the last of the camp being loaded into the wagons.

When the wagons were loaded, Jhardron stood before the assembled encampment. "Our orders are to head north and then west. Our duties are to scout the land. The mud people of the herding tribes have formally acknowledged their fealty to the Aga Khan and so are under our dominion.

"Our challenge is that not all of these nomadic herdsmen are loyal to, or even aware of, the surrender of their leaders. It is part of the truce that the Bak Tai will only do battle with those that attempt to resist us. Only those that attack us will have the same fate as the Ramaldi of the river valleys." The warriors mounted and rode out behind their Khan.

Kwal'kek walked up. "Ha'akh, you will ride with me." He took the long lead rope of the mare and turned to her. "Let me see you mount." Neekah put her foot in the stirrup and had no difficulty pushing herself up and onto the back of the mare. She was grinning excitedly, delighting in the first time on the back of a horse without being behind a large warrior. Kwal'kek tied the reins together, looping them loosely around the mare's neck, "Do not use the reins, I will hold the lead rope. Learn to keep your balance, with your head and back straight. Do not grip too tightly with your knees; she will think you are trying to guide her."

Neekah nodded and sat tall and straight. She could sense the calm accepting spirit of the mare, so different from the fear and rebellion of the red stallion. Kwal'kek never let her take the lead throughout the day, but Neekah did not mind. To sit tall and feel the easy movement of the horse under her was enough. The young warriors still practiced with the Jhang, tossing it casually among them, but there was none of the careless abandon. Neekah not only sensed a caution borne of pain, but also recognized they had a new dignity in their hearts. The initiates now carried the reserve of a warrior.

Once the group was up from the valley of the lake and onto the wide grass plains, Neekah was once more disturbed by the hints of movement and sound at the edge of her senses. She could tell Xin'sha felt it too, but the horse seemed to accept this as a natural part of the grasslands. Her ears swiveling to listen to the wind, her eyes looked to the horizon, but the calmness in her heart was undisturbed.

Neekah let her mood match the mare's. No longer straining to see and hear what was out of her reach, just letting the mare carry her over the sea of undulating grass.

As the sun sank toward the horizon, Kwal'kek called the wagons to a halt. He pulled Neekah to stand on the ground and laughed as she grimaced and rubbed her bottom. "You will grow the calluses of a true Bak horse warrior." He showed her how to take off the bridle and saddle and hobble the mare, turning her loose to graze.

Neekah stoked the neck of the red horse, and whispered in her ear. "Thank you, Xin'sha; you have pleased me greatly."

As she turned, Kwal'kek was frowning at her, "You must obey Jhardron. You must not speak to the horses."

Neekah knew she had been talking to the horse almost all day, an almost unconscious sharing of trust and senses. To turn it off was as impossible to her as turning off her ears.

Neekah's lips turned down in sadness. She nodded, "I will try, but I don't know how to stop the horses from talking to me."

Kwal'kek looked at her, his eyes angry, "Do not speak of it."

Neekah was still standing, watching the mare greedily tear up mouthfuls of grass, as the warriors returned to the wagons in a thundering rush. The mare raised her head and whinnied a ringing greeting to the stallions, an echo of Neekah's surprise and joy at seeing the warriors approach. Kwal'kek called to her, "A ha'akh should not forget her duties." His voice was sharp and impatient.

Neekah hurried to help with the evening meal. It was the normal trail rations, dried meats, dried fruit and nuts, and stale water from the water skins. Jhardron mentioned that there was a spring, a half-day's travel further north, and they would stop there tomorrow to fill the barrels on the wagon.

After the evening meal, Neekah was almost impatient with waiting. Soon, she would be taken away by a group of warriors, transported to the mindless place of pleasure she was learning to call sharing blessings. She could feel the need growing in her, an ache in her loins, wetness in her mouth and between her legs. Her eyes felt hot as they followed the warriors as they moved about the camp.

Jhardron felt his eyes drawn to the ha'akh, sensing the change in her manner. He thought to himself about the words that Kwal'kek had whispered to him about her continuing to speak to the horses. This girl may have magic, but it did not seem evil and she seemed to be adjusting to her role in the regiment with an enthusiasm that was rare among ha'akh. He stood and called out. "Our demon seems to be looking for her worshipers. It would be cruel to make her wait." Many of the warriors laughed.

Neekah rose to her feet as he spoke. Her eyes sought for who it was to be. Each night it was a different group, but they all came to her in the same manner. She knew their names, but in many ways the warriors all seemed so alike in their dress and emotions. It did not matter which of the warriors came to share with her; she loved them all.

As her suitors gathered around her, she laughed out loud with delight and held out her hands to them. As the little group made its way to a place sheltered from the wind, Neekah found her hands wandering across the hard bodies of the men walking with her. She was becoming increasingly bold, sensing the pleasure she was capable of giving in the echoes reflected back to her.

Neekah eagerly stripped off her simple shift and ran her hands down the length of her slender frame. She was rapidly losing her starved look, her ribs were no longer prominent and her breasts were fuller. Eagerly she surrendered to their hands, arching and spreading herself, open and eager for their touch. She knelt and then went down on her hands and knees, tossing her head and looking provocatively over her shoulder, her eyes smoky with passion.

One of the warriors exclaimed, "This wild color mare seeks her stallion." And he knelt behind her and let out a long sharp whinny, and mounted her, leaning down and nipping her shoulders. The other warriors moved closer, their hands on her cupping and pulling at her breasts, reaching down and caressing her cleft. Neekah arched and squealed, lunging back against the thrusts of the warrior plunging into her. As the warrior's heat built so did hers and she let out a long vibrating wail as she lost herself in panshasham.

Again, the warriors blended one into the next, her awareness of them collective rather than of any one man. Her sense of herself dissolved, riding the waves of pleasure, her cries rose on the wind.

The warriors gently washed her, with the water from a water skin, and helped her pull her shift over her head. Neekah used the water skin and gently washed the jhombars of the warriors, kneeling and smiling up at her lovers, her heart full of happiness. At camp, one of the warriors brought her several yards of fabric, natural soft cotton, commonly used in making loin cloths.

No tents were set up. All the regiment slept under the stars. As she lay under her fur blanket, Neekah saw a particularly bright and long tailed falling star that almost reached the ground and made a soft happy sound. Kwal'kek chuckled, "Jha'Mak'Tah is firing his arrows in the air again."

Neekah still looking up at the sky asked, "Who Jha'Mak'Tah?"

"His is our father, ha'akh; he is the father of all the Bak Tai, just like Pan'Shash'Sha'Am is the mother of all the Bak Am."

"Bak Am?"

Kwal'kek's voice was warming to tell a tale, "Bak Am, our women of the city, ha'akh. We are the Bak Tai, the warriors. We roam the land of the Bak. The Bak Am are the priestesses, the mothers of the Bak, and they keep the cities and the temple to the goddess Pan'Shash'Sha'Am. Let me tell you the story of Jha'Mak'Tah and Pan'Shash'Sha'Am."

"Long ago, before men ruled, the world was the home of demons and gods. In a great battle, the gods drove the demons out and across the sea to the north."

"In the land of the Bak, there was only our mother, Pan'Shash'Sha'Am, and she wandered the land alone. But still she felt alone, empty. She built herself a beautiful city, with red walls and tall buildings and gilded temples. But the city was empty. She changed herself into a white bird and flew over her land and it was empty."

"Jha'Mak'Tah was a god who had a restless spirit and roamed the world. He had been a great hero in the battle against the demons. He searched for adventure and dreamed of conquest and honor. He changed himself into a tall black stallion and ran across the empty land."

"Pan'Shash'Sha'Am saw Jha'Mak'Tah and was taken by his form and his brave spirit. She changed herself into a white mare and ran beside him, asking him where he was going. Jha'Mak'Tah replied that he sought honor and victory in battle. Pan'Shash'Sha'Am responded that the gods had driven all the demons from the land, and asked what he would battle with."

"And the war god answered that, if could not find a worthy foe, he would go to the northern sea and travel across it and do battle with the demons there. Pan'Shash'Sha'Am laughed and told him that the demons were strong in their land to the north. And he would have no power there so far from their own lands. She challenged him to chase her, if he could catch her she would do battle with him for she eyed the great spear he carried between his legs and wished he would pierce her with it."

"Jha'Mak'Tah looked at Pan'Shash'Sha'Am in her form of a perfectly white mare and thought that he had no desire to kill such a lovely creature. He told her that he did not want to cause her death. Pan'Shash'Sha'Am told him that the weapon he carried between his legs would not kill her, perhaps he should do battle with that. And with that she ran away her tail in the air, her venya rich with her scent. Jha'Mak'Tah wrinkled his nose and sniffed great snorts of the magical fragrance, his mind clouding with lust. His jhombar ready for battle, he galloped after the fleeing goddess."

"Jha'Mak'Tah caught the goddess and, when he mounted her and pierced her with his jhombar, Pan'Shash'Sha'Am squealed and whinnied in pleasure. And as the war god spilled his seed into her, she blessed it with panshasham, her body vibrating with her magic. Pan'Shash'Sha'Am became great with life and gave birth to the marmak, our older brothers."

"Next they mated as man and woman and Pan'Shash'Sha'Am gave birth to the Bak. When Pan'Shash'Sha'Am lay upon the land, some of the seed of Jha'Mak'Tah fell from her venya. It fell to the earth, mixing with the dirt, and the mud people were born."

"Pan'Shash'Sha'Am was happy; the land was empty no longer. The Bak Am went with their mother and filled the cities. The Bak Tai and their brothers, the marmak, roam the land seeking honor and victory in battle, like Jha'Mak'Tah. The mud people spread across the land and exist to serve the Bak."

"Sometimes, in the summer sky, you will see the arrows of Jha'Mak'Tah doing battle with demons in the sky. Sometimes they fall to the ground."

Neekah said in a thoughtful voice, "I am the child of a demon, like you are the children of the gods?"

Jhardron spoke from across the fire, his voice soft and amused, "Perhaps, or perhaps this is a story to tell children when they sleep around the campfire. Time to go to sleep, we have many miles to ride tomorrow." Neekah snuggled down into her blankets and thought about her dreams of the white mare and always seeking something in the north. The demons had gone north. She thought that it had to be true. She wondered, if she was the child of a demon, did that make her all demon or only part? She was still turning the thoughts around in her head as she fell asleep.

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

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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I would like to express my absolute delight to be able to announce that I have found the most wonderful of editors. I would like to acknowledge and thank Dani for all her help. She is a treasure.

xantu