(Part I) - Zarek ben Nadin Chronicles - Chapter #11

     Zarek shifted the tiny grains of sand through his fingers as he looked out at the sea.  Natan sat beside him, strangely quiet.   At first, Zarek had been too distracted to notice his friend’s silence, but when it became prolonged, he began to wonder.  He couldn’t sense anything out of the ordinary.  Perhaps Natan was contemplating the recent changes in their village.  Doubtless, it would take a little getting used to.

     The silence continued and Zarek’s mind inevitably drifted back to his original train of thought.  It has been less than week since he had decided on his plans for revenge.  Each step had been formed with careful deliberation and he was fairly certain, even at this point, that it would succeed.  And he wanted it to succeed, desperately so.

    He couldn’t fail.  Couldn’t give the slightest inclination to his prey, lest the hunter became the hunted.  He must treated the man with the same cool indifference that he always had; in no way giving the man any inclination of the plans that had been designed against him.  If only he could make sure…         

     “You have changed Zarek.”

    Natan’s voice penetrated his thoughts, jerking him back to the present.  Had something in his expression changed?  Had Natan been able to read his thoughts?  He glanced quickly at his friend and was relieved to see that Natan hadn’t been looking at him, but at the distant horizon where sea and sky blended into one.

     “What do you mean?  I am the same person I’ve always been.”  He hoped his words sounded casual and not defensive.

    Natan shifted on the rock, his eyes clouded and Zarek knew that he wasn’t seeing the beach or the frothy waves at the moment.  “A shadow hangs over you,” Natan said, turning his eyes to fully gaze on Zarek.  “You seem distant… cold even.  What is it you are planning?”

    “You think I am planning something?”  Zarek straightened and narrowed his eyes, letting his gaze bore into Natan.  His friend squirmed uncomfortably before looking away, his frame stiffening.

     “I’ve seen that look in your eyes before.  Whatever it is you are planning will only give place to darker deeds.”

    “You fear me.”  It wasn’t a question, but a statement.

    Natan’s head jerked up.  “I fear only what you will bring on yourself.  Taking revenge is not something mortals should concern themselves with.  The gods-----”

    “The gods have no power over me.  They are images trapped in stone, I am flesh… free to do as I please.”

    “Actions have consequences,” Natan whispered, his voice tight.  “You can stop this, you don’t have to take revenge.”

    “Natan.”  Zarek stood to his feet.  His friend shivered at the coldness of his glare, but Zarek wasn’t finished.  “I do not expect you to understand my reasons.  But I am your chief, and you will respect me.”

    Natan sat absolutely still, his eyes blinking at the harshness in his voice.  Then slowly, his friend stood as well.  “You are my friend, Zarek.”  Taking another deep breath, he continued, “Please, just think on what I have said.”

    Zarek felt his defiance and anger ebbing away, as he looked at the shoulders slumping in defeat.  How could have used his superior position to demand respect?  From Natan of all people.  Respect was something to be earned, not something to be demanded.

     Ashamed, he placed a hand on Natan’s shoulder.  “Forgive me.”  They locked gazes, and Zarek spoke again, his voice soft.  “You were only expressing your concern, and I spoke without consideration to that.”

    Relief radiated from Natan’s dark blue eyes.  “You are forgiven.”

    “Thank you.”

    They clasped forearms, and Zarek felt waves of relief wash over him.

oOo

     The time for his plan to be set in motion had come. 

     It was early in the afternoon when Zarek called for the village elders to be summoned.  They had arrived promptly, and had taken seats on the giant rug which was spread out over the ground.  Zarek sat at the head of gathering, and looked at the circle of elders with respect and confidence.   He knew he had their loyalty.  Sargon had confirmed as much in their meeting last night, but he wouldn’t allow himself to dwell to long on that thought.

     He humbly bowed his head in greeting.  “Thank you for coming.”

     One of the elders straightened, “Why have you summoned us, my chief?” 

      It was a little too straightforward, not something entirely in keeping with protocols, but Zarek didn’t take offence to the question.  It was his first time calling the counsel of the elders and he knew that they were all a little curious.  He straightened.  “I wish to honor our village.”

    There was looks of curious approval from several of the faces.  Zarek knew he had their full attention, and he paused for a more dramatic tone, knowing he had to appear sincere for his plan to work.  “I desire that a temple be built, to honor the great god, Dagon.”

    A murmur of surprise rippled through the elders and Zarek watched them carefully, gaging their emotions.  There was a mixture of doubt, though most didn’t seem too displeased by the idea.

    It was Old Mala who spoke first.  “My chief, we already have a temple for Apsu, god of the ocean.  Is another necessary?”

    Zarek knew that this question was important, the elder wanted to clear any doubt from the counsel so that whatever was decided, would be without question.  He smiled appreciatively at Mala, “I only intend to give honor to “The Bringer of Fish”.  It is our life’s source.  Without it, we would perish.  I could think of no other way to secure the favor of this god by the building of his own personal temple.”

    He continued to watch carefully.  The elders were wise, but they were also superstitious.  The shadows of doubts vanished from their faces and each head began to nod slowly in agreement.

    “My chief,” Old Mala said.  “You know that our people have served many gods.  There has often been conflict as to which god should be reverenced more than all the rest.  Might this not also be a cause for discontentment?”

    Zarek inclined his head, it was another question he had anticipated to be asked and he had an answer ready, he paused only long enough for thoughtful consideration before speaking.  “You are wise, and I believe that our village must be united if we are to become stronger.  There can be no cause of division to separate us from achieving this goal.”

    There was a long moment of silence as the elders thought on his words.  Zarek waited patiently before he broke the silence again, “Do I have the blessing of the elders?”

    Every eye turned to the oldest of the elders, Old Mala.  The white hair flowed down to his sunken chest as he bowed his head and lifted one hand, “You have our blessing, oh Chief.”

    The meeting was over and the elders dismissed themselves.  Zarek was pleased with the outcome and sighed deeply as he was left alone once again. 

    “This is a dangerous game you are playing.”

    Zarek’s eyes flew to the figure which stood just inside the hut, apparently just entering.  “Sargon.”

    “The head priest, Rarrok will not be pleased that this decision was made without consulting him.”

    “I simply want to honor one of our gods, I would think the head priest would find no fault with that.”

    “I see more than that,” the chief guard dared to reply.  “You are trying to antagonize him.  You know that Rarrok is Apsu’s head priest in the temple and that he will be jealous.”

    “It is time our people be united!  They cannot follow both the priest and the chief.  The leadership cannot be divided or we are weakened.”

    Sargon waited.  His countenance remained steady and he held Zarek’s gaze with an unwavering one of his own.  Slowly, he lifted his palms, “I see the wisdom in your words, but if the people should choose to follow the priest… you will die.  Have you considered all of this carefully?”

    “I have.”

    A brief moment of silence followed, before the guard sank to one knee.  “Then know this.  You have my loyalty and I will die beside you.”

    Zarek took a step forward and gently eased the kneeling man to his feet.  “Thank you.”

oOo

     Zarek stood just inside the hut’s entrance, listening to the noise outside.  After several minutes, his guard entered.  The man’s eyes looked at him searchingly, probably trying to discern whether his chief was still going to go through with the plan.  With only the smallest of frown, he bowed, “All are assembled.”

     He knew Sargon was not pleased with his decision, but he appreciated the guard’s loyalty to see it through.  Taking a soft breath, he stilled himself.     

      The crowd fell silent the instant Zarek lifted the skin from the doorway.  His eyes skimmed the crowd as he waited.  At last, when he was sure that he had their full attention, he spoke to them.  “Our village has become stronger because of your efforts, and will become stronger still.  This is not my accomplishment alone.”

    As he spoke, he caught sight of Natan.  His friend was looking at him curiously.  Zarek let his gaze drift away.  “I know that our livelihood is what we catch from the sea.  Without the fish that come from the waters, we would soon succumb to disease and starvation.  Dagon, the god of fish and fertility, has blessed us and I would like to build a temple in honor to him.”

     At that moment, Zarek’s gaze fell on Natan once more.  A look of surprise and utter astonishment colored his friend’s features.  His heart quickened a beat, as the surprise was replaced by confusion and then realization.  He knew by that look, that Natan was aware of what he was doing.

    He looked away and hurried on, desperately hoping that Natan would not try to interfere.  He forced a smile and addressed his people, “Without these gifts, we would not have life.  It is my belief that Dagon would be pleased with this offering, and would bless us even more abundantly.” 

    “Chief!”

    Zarek froze.  His eyes shot to Natan, but his friend had his head turned as well, searching for the source of the interruption.  Relieved to some extent that it hadn’t been Natan, Zarek’s eyes turned to likewise scan the crowd.  There was a disturbance to his left, and then the crowd parted.

     The head priest stormed forward, his stride quick and cat-like, reminding Zarek of the lion he had encountered several years ago.  The crowd whispered but hushed when the head priest lifted a stilling hand.

     Rarrok’s face was dark, but otherwise unreadable as he spoke, “My chief, you have not consulted me on this matter.  Let me now offer my words.”  The priest paused for a split second before continuing, “I admire the fact that you wish to unite us all under a common god.  However, I believe that Apsu, god of the ocean, is more worthy of worship.”

     “Dagon brings the fish, I see no reason why he shouldn’t have his own temple,” Zarek countered.

    The priest’s face turned a scarlet purple and he lifted both hands, his eyes flashing in anger.  The shiny cloak of fish scales rippled in thick folds as Rarrok turned to address the people.  “Should we risk offending Apsu, god of the ocean?  Is he not the one who make the see storm?  He will bring ruin and destruction upon our village.”

    A murmur of fear ran through the crowd.  Zarek’s shoulders tightened.  The confrontation was sooner than he had expected, still, he must press forward if he was to prevail.  He schooled his expression to an impassive one.  “I fail to see how Apsu could be offended if we honored Dagon as well.  You will still remain Apsu’s head priest, his position will not diminish.” 

    “You are bringing a curse to the village because you force Apsu to share his glory!”  The priest’s voice shrieked, before it turning to a snarl.  “A curse to you and all those that follow you.”

    The people gasped and shrank away, as if expecting the deity to suddenly appear and plunge them into the darkest depths of the sea.  Zarek lifted his chin, feeling his jaw muscles becoming rigid and made an effort to control his anger as he glared at the head priest.  When he spoke, his voice was low but it easily carried in the hush of the crowd.  “You have no power here, to curse me or your people.  My strength is greater than yours.”

    At this, the head priest took a step back in surprise.  It was obvious that he hadn’t expected a challenge.

     The people began to whisper and the priest stiffened, lifting his head higher as he gazed defiantly at them.  “Apsu will bring destruction on this village, you think your chief will save you?”  It was a last ditch effort to discredit the young chief, and everyone knew it.

     Zarek’s lips pressed together, and he scanned the crowd before his eyes rested on a particular face.  “Ciara.  That day when the storm was violent and almost dashed your ship and crew into the sea… did Apsu save you, or did I?”

    The ship captain stepped forward and all eyes turned to him.  “You did.”

    Zarek nodded and turned to the crowd, sweeping them all with one bold gaze.  “And tell me.  Was it Rarrok who went out into the field and slew the enchanted lion?  Or was it I?”

    Soma stepped forward, “It was you, oh chief.”

    “And,” Zarek fixed the priest with a dark look.  “Was it I who kept the nomadic warriors from advancing by being the first to assemble a line of defense?  Or did the head priest lead you with his sword?”

    Zarek waited.  Sargon was at his side in a second and shouted to the crowd, “Who will you serve this day?”

     The silence continued for only a brief moment and then the whispers rose to shouts, until the whole village was clamoring, “We will serve Dagon, god of our chief!”

     Their voices were so loud that they drowned out the shrieks of fury from the head priest as he departed from them.  Zarek watched him go and smiled.  His plan was falling perfectly into place.