Harvest of Ancient Sorrows

Preview Chapters 4-6

**These chapters are provided without professional editing.

Chapter 4

Kerma City, Taru, An 5660, Day 67

Louisa knocked.

“Who’ss therre?” Purr-growled a grumpy stirithy who could only be Ssherrss since most of the fox-like aliens were beyond amicable.

“Ssherrss, it’s Louisa.”

“Come in,” Khepri’s voice boomed through the wood.

Louisa opened the door and walked into the living room of the small cottage Khepri’s family called home on the campus turned garrison.

Ssherrss almost ran into her. “Good morrning, Missss Louissa. Lot’ss to do. Got to go.” The reddish-brown stirithy brushed past her with a canvas satchel grasped in his four-thumbed hand.

Louisa waved. “Have a good day.”

As the door shut behind her, she found Khepri sitting on an oversized–– for humans anyway ––stuffed leather couch.

The big wolf-woman’s hands worked with two giant wooden needles, knitting thick blue yarn. Without looking up, Khepri said, “Louisa, how are you?”

“Good, Khepri, but I need your help?”

The needles stopped moving. The giant wolf’s eyes locked with Louisa’s as Khepri lowered her work onto her lap. The canine sniffed twice and shook her head. “You need to take that up with Ben.” Her eyes smiled at Louisa. “From the fire, I’m smelling, that must have been quite a kiss.”

With her cheeks growing warm, Louisa tried and failed to push down thoughts of Ben’s lips. “You’re right.” She shook her head. Despite being raised Orthodox Greek and then Catholic, confession went against all of Louisa’s training. Still, she needed to say the words. “I think I love that man, and it scares me how he keeps creeping into my thoughts.”

Why didn’t he kiss me good morning? Louisa couldn’t express her disappointment out loud, but just as fast, she thought how silly she was for considering it. The man was busy.

Khepri panted as her snout bounced along with Louisa’s words. “And?”

And what? Louisa pondered her friend’s query in earnest and knew the answer. Vocalizing the words challenged her. As the master of her own fate, she didn’t like needing anyone.

Always accept the truth, she told herself, and she laid her heart bare for her friend. “I want to be near him. I want him to touch me. To kiss me.” Louisa’s voice turned breathy.

“And?”

Louisa paused. Did she want to take that ultimate step? “I’m not sure about that yet. This is all so new to me. I’ll climb that mountain when I’m ready. She shook her head. “But that’s not why I’m here.”

“Oh?” Khepri tilted her head and waited.

“I want to talk to you about what Ben said last night. When we got home, the three of us had a meeting, and Ben slipped up and said we were a family.”

“That’s wonderful.” The wolfwoman pumped her knitting needles into the air.

Louisa tried to dampen her friend’s excitement. “I’m not sure I’m ready to be an instant mother. What do I know about fourteen-year-old boys?”

Khepri put her project on the small table beside the couch and stood, her head only inches from a ceiling beam. “You are ready. I bet you know much more about what Abu needs than he does. Children are idiots until they grow up.”

Louisa felt her doubts slipping away. “I guess.”

“Besides, your new family is normal compared to mine. My situation keeps getting stranger.” Khepri’s amber canine eyes locked with hers, growing serious.

So true, Louisa thought as she pictured Khepri’s strange pack of a family. The giant wolfwoman was spouse to the diminutive and grumpy fox-like stirithy, Ssherrss, whom she now shared with a second wife, the stirithy, Hemmetrre. Louisa chuckled. “You’re right.”

The wolf’s eyes narrowed, sparkling with mischief, and she winked at Louisa without saying a word.

Louisa blinked with confusion. “Wait, what are you not telling me?”

“In six months, I will start calling you Auntie Louisa.”

“Auntie…” Louisa caught her breath.

Khepri rolled her sharp-clawed hand as if that would help Louisa understand.

It clicked, and Louisa yelped, “That’s wonderful.” She threw her arms around Khepri’s waist. “You’re going to be a mother.”

Khepri said, “Technically, Hemmetrre is, but yes. I am.”

Absent the elation Louisa expected in Khepri’s voice, she pulled back and looked up. “What’s wrong?”

The wolf-woman’s brow furrowed. “The timing isn’t optimal.”

Children were suboptimal at any time, but Louisa got her friend’s meaning. To raise a child while the whole world descended into madness had to be terrifying. She wanted to think of something to reassure her friend, but the fight ahead of them promised them nothing but uncertainty. The Aaruans overcame the ripvor during previous lamentations, but past results did not guarantee the future.

A solution grew as she thought about her uncle’s rules for being a good thief, Always have an escape route.

Louisa took Khepri’s hand-paws in hers. “Ben, Ssherrss, and the Lancers will win, but no matter what happens, I’ll make sure your pups are safe.”

Khepri’s head tilted and reminded Louisa of a regular dog trying to comprehend its owner’s indecipherable speech. “How can you guarantee that?”

Louisa shook her head. “Let’s just say I have a backup plan if everything goes to hell.”

Chapter 5

Nation of Umma, Taru, An 5660, Day 68

A hundred yards above and to the right of the squadron of Kerman wind singers, Djoser scanned the horizon toward the setting sun. Unlike the human wind singer flying with them, his transparent inner eyelids allowed him to see without squinting or wearing goggles against the rushing wind. He glanced down—thousands of feet below, intermittent fields of prairie grass and cultivated grain flowed by in quick succession.

Full of life, the pattern soothed Djoser’s nerves with its normality. Much different than the sands of the desert and the rocky crags of the southern hives they’d flown over most of the day, but even those landscapes––belonged. The scar ripped into the land did not. The destruction behind the horde looked as if a million rutting hogs ate every blade of grass above before gobbling the grubs below.

Once again, he regretted reporting Iskur’s capture to the emperor. That decision cost him his immediate freedom and could soon cost him his life. Little more than a well-paid indentured servant, he raced toward the reaper army while every instinct screamed to fly as far away as possible.

For Djoser, reapers were little more than ghost stories that his mother told him to make him behave. Ghosts did not stir up a dust cloud so vast that the flyers could see it from thirty miles back. After a quick singing discussion, Djoser and the captain in charge of the Kermans agreed to do a single fly-by.

Refugees from Marad, a large city in the nation of Umma, said the reapers appeared two days ago in the east, a short march from the city. The populace fled while the city’s ten thousand soldiers manned the walls, hoping to give the civilians a chance to escape.

An Umman wind singer who watched the assault described an unstoppable reptilian tsunami washing over the city defenses in minutes, but the sacrifice worked. The marauders paused to loot and then raze the city. Nothing remained.

After the destruction, the ripvor army marched east before going north and then east again to skirt the Eastern Hives. With the sun at their backs, the wind singers would stay a mile north of the army while flying by.

The five Kermans moved into the famous geese-like V formation, hoping to disguise their approach. Each second, the writhing patchwork of red, blue, and green drew closer. Djoser tilted his arm down, gliding behind and to one side of the Kerman’s pattern, making it uneven.

His listening song went out in all directions, seeing where his eyes could not. He ignored the marching reapers and scanned the soundwaves for undulations, signaling unknown flyers. With no unusual noises, he focused on the endless train of marching military formations, each unit wearing one of three colors—red, green, or blue. Like an endless quilted scarf lying over the countryside, the reptile army stretched miles ahead.

Djoser began to count, dividing the numbers by color. He wondered if the colors had any significance. Singing ability? Tribal?

They had traveled a few miles alongside the reapers when an abnormal whooshing sound reached his listening ring. Djoser twisted his arms. He performed a slow roll to find the source. From a few hundred yards above, four blots of white and brownish green closed the distance. He locked onto the threads of sliced wind that the four ripvor made.

Djoser assessed the situation in the time it took to complete his flying roll. The attackers had the advantage of height and speed. He could not outrun the reapers without a battle. Djoser tried to avoid fighting as a matter of principle. If it had to happen, he made sure to never lose, especially in his domain. He owned the sky.

Let’s see what these monsters can do.

“Under attack. Above and behind. Break formation.” Djoser scream-sung to the others. He completed his roll and peeled off to the left. He lost altitude, gaining speed as he pulled harder into the turn.

“Scatter,” The squadron leader said, icy calm.

Djoser focused on the four strings of sound he’d identified, blocking out the atmospheric disruptions from the Kermans.

A dart from a handheld crossbow flashed by a few feet to his side, and his arm flinched away on instinct. He wobbled and pushed his arms back to right himself. He thanked Shai for not bringing Bastet with him. The caracal’s sling would have destabilized him more.

He mentally spun the strings of sound into flight patterns. Three attackers pursued the Kermans while one attempted to turn with him to stay within striking distance. Fifty yards above him, that reaper flew past, going in the opposite direction. The ripvor wind singer leveled out and tried to come around.

Djoser pulled into a climb. When he had gained a hundred yards of altitude on the reaper, he went vertical, pulling in his arms. As his momentum faltered, he sang the air to circle him, the self-made twister spinning him one hundred and sixty degrees. The precise number needed to align with his enemy’s new trajectory. He bent at the waist, stretching his arms wide as he sang air into his patagium, the skin stretching from his arms to his body, before diving toward the reaper.

Pain screeched in Djoser’s ears as loud pops echoed back to him. The Kermans singers had brought some of the Earthlings’ small guns. Djoser manipulated the listening song, blocking out those frequencies as he got his first good look at a reaper.

Fifty yards ahead and twenty below, the brownish-green creature, its neck almost as long as its tail, flew using manufactured wings like a human wind singer. Unlike the humans on Aaru, which used material attached to their arms to simulate babiakhom flight, the wings were fixed to ripvor’s back using a special vest. This made it very difficult for these singers to perform the acrobatics of their Aaruan counterparts.

A memory tickled. Something about the giant lizard’s arms being unable to go all the way out to its sides. That didn’t keep the damn demon’s neck from twisting like a snake to look behind and upward, straight at Djoser. The raptor-like beak went wide, screaming a challenge.

With an unexpected suddenness, the creature barrel rolled. Djoser’s eyes bulged at the small crossbow in the reaper’s hand, held away from his bulbous body. Djoser had a second to twist and pull in his wings as the reaper took aim. Another small bolt flashed by mere inches from his left shoulder.

Djoser spread his arms just a little, forming a small v while leaning into his dive. The reaper finished its roll, and Djoser focused on his target. He had a few seconds before the reaper reloaded its weapon. Then again, those clawed feet and hands were all the lizard needed to defend itself if Djoser allowed the creature to bring them to bear.

A quick song played in Djoser’s mind; pushing the buttons on his wrist holders and two six-inch blades popped out, the handles, tethered to the wrist sheaths, rested against his backward pointing palms. He gripped the knives, the thrill of the dive and the anticipation of coming violence bringing a jolt of energy. He focused because, in aerial combat, the timing meant life or death.

The gap closed to twenty yards. The ripvor turned right. Djoser adjusted with a tilt of his left arm. Ten yards. The hysakas-sized lizard began to roll.

Now! Djoser’s hands shot forward as he sang the circle song, spinning him. A yard from the creature’s rotating wing, the drag of Djoser’s patagium stretching wobbled him a bit, but his circle song kept the flap of skin as close to his body as possible.

The reaper screamed and twisted its long neck toward him, but Djoser’s blades tore through the cloth-covered, wooden wing of the enemy flier. As he shot past, a giant beak snapped a mere foot from Djoser’s leg. The blow against the reaper’s flying apparatus sent Djoser spinning away.

The circle song ceased with a thought, and he stretched his arms. The loose skin puffed full, and he pulled up to gain altitude. His eyes darted toward his opponent. The reaper plunged toward the ground, its mangled wing flapping behind it. Something strange happened then. The ripvor cut away its vest and wings. Then, a big umbrella-looking cloth shot from the creature’s back. It popped open full of air, and the damn thing began to float down, the ripvor hanging from lines attached to the umbrella.

Djoser shook his head, thinking, I’ve got to get one of those.

He turned on all frequencies and found the other flyers nearby. Four of the Kermans were still in the air.

Djoser asked, “Status?”

“Lost one. Enemy all down.” The section leader replied.

“Time to go. Regroup to the northwest. You must report what you’ve seen.” Djoser relayed the rally point as he adjusted his flight path.

Djoser replayed the fight. He’d been lucky he hadn’t taken an arrow from the reaper. With a shake of his head, he pondered not returning to Kerma City. Considered changing course and flying to the continent of Rastis. That is until he remembered that the Empire’s assassins were everywhere. Unable to escape his fate, he decided that he’d obtain one of the Earthling’s small guns, no matter the cost.

Chapter 6

Kerma City, Taru, An 5660, Day 68

For several hours Louisa waited at the dining room table, a plate of food ready for Ben’s return. What had he done to her? She shook her head as she again looked for a clock that didn’t exist. Aaruans and their reliance on their moons for telling time frustrated her almost as much as her own foolishness.

Like one of those love addled fools in her friend’s romance novels, she pined away for the man. There wasn’t an hour that did not go by that she did not think about his crooked grin, or their kiss. Tonight, though, her frustration with herself soon found another target.

Ben’s tardiness made it plain that he didn’t appreciate the chance he’d been given. Besides, she never allowed anyone to waste her time. She wasn’t going to start now.

Louisa sighed. Enough, she chided herself.

The man needed to prepare for the coming fight. It didn’t mean he didn’t want to be with her.

The door opened; startling Louisa whose years of training kept her from flinching but her eyes did widen. Ben hung his cavalry hat on a peg by the door as he closed it. His eyes sagged from weariness, and he scuffed his boots on the wood flooring as he moved to go up the stairs, not even seeing her. The way he looked made her feel guilty at her irritation which caused her to get angry at herself and even angrier at him.

“It’s about time.” Louisa caught herself saying, not able to hide the testiness in her voice.

Ben’s head swiveled to her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you. Good evening.”

An exasperated fire grew in Louisa’s belly. She tried to douse it, but her words still came out hot. “I’m sure you’re hungry. I fixed you a plate.” She stood and walked toward the stairs.

“Uh. Thank you. You’re not staying?”

“I’m tired. I’ll see you in the morning,” Louisa shot over her shoulder. She didn’t know why but she just could not be in the room with him right now.

“Alright. Sweet dreams.” Ben pulled out a chair, scraping the legs on the floor.

Louisa kept herself from stomping up the stairs and headed to bed, wondering if tonight’s dream would be sweet or as sour as she felt right now.