Thursday, June 25, 2015

(Part I) - Zarek ben Nadin Chronicles - Chapter #3



    The days following the great storm were filled with mourning for the twenty-seven men who had lost their lives when two of the fishing vessels capsized in the waves.  Still, the story of Zarek’s own daring act spread rapidly through their small village on the seaside.  Zarek couldn’t walk through the village without being praised for his bravery or asked for a retelling of his brave actions. 

      More solitude in nature, Zarek felt pressed and uncomfortable.  He refused to tell the story or speak of his brave action that earned him the respect of Ciara and his fellow fishermen.  His silence just encouraged those who weren’t there to invent their own colorful fantasies until Zarek’s name was on nearly every single tongue.

    Despite being regarded as a hero by many, Zarek’s home life remained much the same.  His father brooded over his bottles of wine and drank until he became physically violent.  Zarek started avoiding the hut if he saw the fire burning.  Instead, he would wrap his seal cape tighter about his shoulders and curl up on the ground.  This was hard on his health since the sea brought a cold, frigid air to the nights.  Oftentimes, Zarek couldn’t sleep because of the cold; his teeth chattered continually, no matter how hard he pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth.

     When the stormy season began, the fishing boats sometimes didn’t go out to sea for weeks at a time.  The men stayed close to the fires since they lacked employment and it became impossible for Zarek to avoid his father.  Now that his father didn’t have to go out to sea, his days were filled with idleness and he became even more abusive.

     One night, Zarek fled from the hut without his seal cape because of the violence of his father’s drunken rage.  It rained all that night and Zarek, desperate for shelter from the driving storm, climbed into an enclosed pen that housed some of the sheep and cattle the village owned.  Dayan found him curled up in one of the stalls that following morning.

     “Are you looking for work?”

     Zarek blinked his eyes and quickly sat up.  It took him a moment to sort through his foggy thoughts and remember why he was sleeping in the hay.  One of the milking cows shifted away from him, causing a shiver down his neck as the cool morning air nipped at his exposed skin.  He didn’t know what to say so he remained silent as he stared up Dayan.

     Dayan extended his hand and helped him to his feet.  “I have been meaning to ask your father if he would allow you to become one of the village herdsmen.  The fishing boats have not been able to go to sea as regular as they normally do.  Storms often take the fishing craft by surprise and we can hardly afford to risk anymore of our fishing vessels, especially since we’ve already lost two and more than two dozen good men.  You would be herding with Natan; the village will give you a sheep every month for your service.”

     Zarek thought it over quickly, “When do I begin?”

     Dayan laughed, “You are eager aren’t you?  Well, it isn’t time for the herdsmen to come take the animals up to the pastures yet.  Why don’t you come back with me to my house?  You can have a bowl of hot stew; you look to be quite chilled.”

     Zarek’s pride almost made him refuse, but his stomach twisted with sudden stab of pain reminding him that he had eaten very little the days before.  If he was going to be herding the whole day, his body would need some nourishment.  He nodded and followed the broad shouldered man to a sloping hut.  The sky was still dark as he entered and was immediately warmed by a blazing fire.

     Marina, Natan’s mother, offered a welcoming smile and with a single word from her husband filled one of their wooden bowls to the brim from the steaming pot of fish stew that boiled over the fire.  Zarek was immediately struck with longings for his mother.  He accepted the bowl with shaky hands and was glad the fire still smoked so that his watery eyes could be attributed to that.

     Zarek sipped from the bowl.  The stew warmed him though he had to wait several more minutes to sip again.  Natan entered the tent as Zarek finished the last of his stew; he looked at his friend in surprise.  His friend could ask, Dayan turned to him, “Zarek will be watching the herds with you.  Take the animals to the upper north pasture.  Mind that you keep a sharp lookout for danger.”

     Natan bent his head in obedience, but not before Zarek saw the flash of bewilderment and relief in his unguarded countenance.  “Yes, father.”

     Zarek watched Dayan clasp his son’s shoulder in affection.  He refused to think past the simple gesture of fatherly affection, something he knew little of.  His past was too painful to remember and his future looked bleak and hopeless, at least for now he had found some small comfort that he would be in the high pastures keeping watch over the animals. 

     It wasn’t long before both boys were herding the cattle and sheep up the rocky bluffs to the valley beyond them.  Zarek’s eyes took in his new surroundings.  Although the valleys were not located far from the village, Zarek had never had occasion to travel there.  He had always believed that any adventure to be found was in the sea.

     They were first to arrive at their grazing lands and the cattle fanned out across the plains to eat.  As the day continued, it became warmer.  More boys drove up small herds of cattle until at last, they had all arrived.  The scouts checked the perimeter before they gathered on one of the big, flat rocks.

     Zarek eyed the dozen or so of the boys that had been appointed herdsmen.  Their faces were familiar as he had known them from his childhood, but their names slipped from his mind.  They looked back at him, all equally curious.

     “So, this is the mighty Zarek who saved old Ciara’s ship from sinking,” one boy loudly proclaimed.  His eyes narrowed.

     Zarek looked at the flat-faced boy whose shoulders were broader than his own, annoyed by the other's rudeness.  “And who are you?”  Though Zarek was looking up at the boy, he spoke in such a way that let everyone know that he neither respected nor esteemed the bigger boy.  Indeed, he acted as if he was the one looking down on him.

     The other boys shared looks of surprise at Zarek’s carelessness, and the older boy turned a dull red as he glared back at him.  “I am Soma, son of your chief.” 

     Zarek didn’t like the haughty and arrogance tone in which Soma used, and he let his eyes settle on the boy, with disgust.  “I suggest you act like it then, instead of one of the old men at the ancient gate’s entrance, gossiping over figs.”  Zarek rose to his feet and the other boy stepped back, though his face turned a brighter red and twisted in anger.

     In Zarek’s thinking, it was one thing to identify yourself with a person of power, but quite another to be so bold and foolish as to believe that mere relation to a person should indicated special treatment.  Zarek knew, as did the others, that the elders would choose the next chief and that wasn’t necessarily the chief’s son.  A man prove himself before being designated to such a position of power.  Right now Soma was proving himself an arrogant fool. 

     Soma was unwilling to back down from what he considered an insult to his personage, and shouted after him.  “How dare you insult me in that manner?!  You are nothing compared to me, do you see what I hold in my hand?”

     In truth, Zarek had seen it.  It was a splendid spear, the staff being of oak and the head of iron.  Only the headmen of the tribe could afford such powerful weapons.  However, Zarek didn’t feel like showing his admiration of such a wonderful spear, he was enjoying watching the pudgy boy splutter in anger, he wasn’t deaf and he knew the villagers regarded Soma as conceited. 

    He kept his eyes straight and level.  Not a hint of emotion showed on his face as looked evenly back at the boy.  “You hold a stick.”

     Soma’s mouth opened and closed like a herring caught in a net, before he thrust back his 
shoulders, “It isn’t a stick you fool, it is a spear, a spear with a magnificent iron head.”

     Zarek crossed his arms.  “I am terrified.”

     The boy’s face twisted in a sneer.  “You would be if I ran it through you like the jackal you are.  All yap and no backbone.  I’ve heard you’re father call you a coward, a weak and pathetic fool of a son.  I would be ashamed to show my face if I were you, being that your mother was slain by the priests, because she offended the gods.”

     It was a cruel and stinging insult, Zarek hardly noticed the looks of horror and discomfort that flitted across the other boys’ face as his own vision became a blinding red.  Before he was fully aware of his actions, he had already pounced on Soma, the force sent them both rolling in the dirt.  His hard fist rammed into Soma’s face again and again until someone grabbed his wrist.  He threw his arm back and shook off whoever was trying to interfere only to have his wrist grabbed again.

     “Enough Zarek!” Natan panted, “You have proved your point.”

     Zarek stood to his feet, and glared at Natan, “I’ll prove my point when that fat, little dog has his own spear in his stomach!” To insult him was one thing, but to dishonor the memory of his slain mother… he would not tolerate such a thing, not from this boy or any other!

     His friend’s face was pleading.  “Please Zarek, calm yourself.”

    Natan’s voice was so low that only Zarek heard it.  He knew his friend was right, yet he refused to let go of his anger, he whirled around at Soma who lifted his hands in a feeble attempt to protect his face should he be attacked again.

     Zarek’s lips curled and he vaguely realized that they were tumbling in fury.  He kept his voice controlled and icy when he spoke.  “If you ever speak of mother again, I will kill you!”  His snarl deepened as he cast one last withering look at the timid, now defeated boy.  He turned and strode away, walking to the outskirts of where the cattle grazed.

     The cattle looked at him curiously, before they returned to grazing once again.  Zarek continued to pace, his eyes wandering through the grass, rocks, and cattle.  It was some time before his temper had cooled enough for him to return to where the others still kept a lookout for danger. 

    No one said anything and Zarek glanced at Soma and saw that one of the boys had helped him wash off his face in the spring behind the rock.  Soma’s face was still swollen and the bruises were beginning to darken.  The boy glared at him before quickly turning away.

    Whatever scrabble or fight that took place out here would not be mentioned back at the villager.  They were old enough to settle their own disputes now.  It was the custom of all boys that were coming of age; and their actions would define them.  The rank they held among their peers would continue long after they became adults.

     It was late evening when Natan took out the food his mother had wrapped for them in a sack.  The other boys did the same, splitting up in little groups to eat and talk.  Natan sat beside Zarek on the rocky overhang and swung his legs back and forth as he offered Zarek his share and took a bite of his own fish.

     Zarek accepted it and glanced back at the other boys.  He didn’t miss their guarded and fearful gazes.  He stared at the piece of fish that he held between his fingers, his early feelings of anger and resentment had vanished.  “They hate me.”  He looked up at his friend, feeling defeated.  “Do they all feel as Soma does?”

    Natan swallowed and shook his head.  “They don’t hate you Zarek.  But thanks to your little temper, they have learned to fear you.”  Natan gave a pleased little laugh.  “Soma was in charge before you came, in fact we are sitting in the exact place that he would sit to eat his lunch.”

    Zarek looked at him in surprise before glancing back at Soma who was scowling his displeasure.  “What are you saying Natan?”

     Natan sobered.  “I am saying that Soma was a bully.  Everyone feared him because he was the chief’s son and had a spear with an iron head.  Now, he had been forced into his proper place.  You are the herdsman in charge now, it is your right.”

     Zarek had never been put in a position of authority, always being the servient one.  Obedience came automatically, as did pushing his personal thoughts aside, but now, that was about the change.  He stared at his friend, “What am I supposed to do?”

     Natan smiled mischievously, “Well, first you can appoint me as your personal advisor.”  He laughed before his face became serious and he started to dutifully list things, “All you have to do is decide when to move the cattle, or when we drive the cattle back to the village.  From now on, we get to pick where our cattle graze. I would advise that we move them closer to the center tomorrow.  If the cattle are attacked by lions we have a better chance of coming out unscathed and we are rewarded if we don’t lose any cattle during our watches.”

    Zarek nodded.  It all made sense.  “We shall do as you say then.  When should we head back to the village?”

     “Soma always leaves earlier than what we are supposed to, however, I think we should head to the village just as the sun is setting.  The cattle will have grazed to their stomach’s content and will be easier to move then.”

     Zarek nodded again, trying not to feel overwhelmed.  “We will head to the village as the sun sets, anything else?”

     “Well, Soma is still going to challenge you, so be prepared.  I’ll let you decide on how you want to handle it but I suggest a little less violence next time.  You can get your message across without shedding blood.”  Natan gave him a lopsided grin, “All I can say is that this isn’t the first time I have been glad to not be on the receiving end of your anger.”

     Zarek forced a smile in return.  He glanced back at Soma before he lowered his voice, “Do you think he will try to get even?”

    Natan shrugged his shoulders, but he didn’t look concerned, “Soma is not overly bright but he is smart enough to know when to accept defeat.  An iron spearhead does no good unless you have the skill to wield it.”

      It was late in the afternoon when Soma stood to his feet, “I think we should move the cattle back to the village.”

    The boys didn’t move.  They looked at him before quickly glancing at Zarek.  Zarek remained sitting where he was.  He didn’t even lift his head or look in Soma’s direction.  “I think we will stay here until the sun is ready to set.”


    Soma scowled but didn’t say anything else.  Zarek watched from the corner of his eye as the boy moved to resume his sentry duty once again.  He couldn’t help but smile in satisfaction.  It felt good to have some control in his life.

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