by Tim Chaffey
Noah spotted Aterre dancing around the fire and breathed a sigh of relief that his garment was still wound around his torso, covering the tattoo. Noah faced Mehul. “Why ‘fear’? My father spoke ill of it, but . . . a friend told me that the group just teaches discipline and self-defense.”
The older man arched an eyebrow. “They do much more than that. They’re now in charge of Bothar. The leaders completely control their followers, who pledge to obey any command without question. They steal from travelers and murder men who oppose them. And I even hear rumors that they practice the dark arts.”
“The dark arts?”
Mehul leaned back and sighed. “The dark arts refer to people trying to gain supernatural power and understanding by communicating with the dead or with spiritual entities.”
“My father said the group was evil, but I don’t think he had any idea they believed such things.”
“Indeed they are wicked, but enough about Sepha. We’re here to celebrate what the Creator has given us.” He swept his arm out to the people happily weaving amongst each other, keeping time to the music. “What do you think of Zakar?”
“Your people have truly blessed us, and we’re happy to have met you.”
Mehul gave a slight nod. “Likewise.”
Noah scratched the back of his neck and stared at his dusty feet. “Do you mind if I ask you a question about your people?”
“Not at all. Please, ask.”
Noah lifted his eyes and held the man’s gaze. “When your people prayed, why did they. ”An orange light far behind Mehul caught Noah’s attention. His mind raced as his mouth fought to form the word. “Fire!” He pointed past the man to the village barn.
Mehul turned back and jumped to his feet. “Fire!”
The music suddenly stopped and everyone stared momentarily at the conflagration before springing into action. Noah and Mehul rushed to the barn. The thatched roof blazed orange, but the main part of the structure had not yet been engulfed in flames. Men and women scurried into the barn and then back out with arms full of food and supplies, many of them coughing from the smoke.
Noah wrapped the end of his garment around his face and darted in. Shelves of foodstuffs were stacked against the far wall, and large baskets of berries and vegetables sat on the floor. Noah spotted a wide board leaning against the left wall. He grabbed the arm of the nearest man. “Help me with this.”
Noah moved quickly to the wooden panel. “Grab the other end.” They picked it up and carried it to an open spot on the floor. Noah quickly lowered his end. “Here, fill this up!”
Within moments piles of food were loaded. Noah snagged the attention of two other men for their assistance. The four men hefted the platform and carried it a safe distance away from the burning structure.
“Dump it and let’s make one more trip,” one of the men said.
They hustled back to the room, which was now hotter, brighter, and smokier. Noah felt as if his hair would soon be singed. Thanks to the hasty work of the townsfolk, the barn only had a fraction of what it held before the fire. The men swiftly loaded up their table again. As they headed for the door, a large flaming beam fell from the ceiling and crashed to the ground right behind Noah. They rushed out of the inferno and into safety.
Noah fought for fresh air and collapsed, causing the food to crash to the ground beside him. Between his coughs, he heard many others doing the same. His lungs burned. When he finally caught his breath, he saw many of the Zakari watching helplessly as the barn succumbed to the fire. The center of the roof fell first, followed by the two end walls that collapsed inward.
“Is everyone unharmed?”
Noah turned and saw Mehul moving hurriedly among his people, checking on their condition. Some of the men fanned out around the building, stamping out any embers that managed to escape.
Aterre walked over to Noah. “Are you hurt?”
“No, I’m alright. What about you?”
The flickering light reflected in Aterre’s eyes. “I’m fine.”
Noah looked around the crowd. “It doesn’t look like anyone’s seriously injured.”
A scream pierced the air. The door of a nearby house flew open, and a woman bolted through it. “Where’s Elam?” She ran toward Varelk and another man, whom Noah thought might be Varelk’s son, Elam’s father. “I can’t find Elam.” Trying and failing to catch her breath before speaking again, she gasped out the rest of her words. “He was in bed . . . now he’s not there!”
“Our son is missing?” the other man asked.
Varelk placed his hand on her shoulder, while Elam’s father hurried toward their hut. “We’ll find him. He probably woke up with all the noise and is out here somewhere.”
Elam’s mother cupped her hands to her mouth and yelled her son’s name, echoed by her husband. Varelk moved off in another direction, also calling for the boy.
Suddenly, a cry rang out from the other side of the village. A petite woman ran toward the field where the children had been playing earlier in the evening. “Kani! Where are you? Kani!” A man hurried to her and joined in shouting her daughter’s name.
Mehul clapped his hands and directed the villagers to make sure their children were accounted for.
Noah and Aterre ran around the edge of the clearing, calling out for Elam and Kani, while the distressed parents hastened to their homes.
Before long, the people gathered near the bonfire where their dancing had heralded peace just a short time ago. As Noah moved toward the crowd, several parents frantically waved their arms and shouted, while others knelt, weeping.
Mehul tried to calm them, but to no avail. “We won’t stop until we find the four missing children.”
Elam’s father pointed at a couple of men. “You two, take some torches and check the east road. Look for any signs that they might have gone that way.” He turned to the man who had been shouting Kani’s name. “Liun, come with me. We’ll check the northern trail. They couldn’t have gone far.”
As the four men raced off, fear and confusion gripped Noah. Where can they be?
“Do you think they’re just hiding as a joke?” a short man with a bushy beard asked.
With tears streaming down her cheeks, a woman stepped forward, “Were they in the barn?”
“No,” Mehul said. “It was nearly empty when it collapsed, and everyone made it out.”
“Maybe they accidentally started the fire,” the crying woman said, “then ran because they were afraid.”
Another woman shook her head. “But they were all in bed, right? I put Kani there myself. She’s never snuck out before.”
“What if they were kidnapped?” the short man asked.
Aterre clenched his fists. “Then we go rescue them.”
The conversation became impossible to follow as the frightened men and women shouted over one another. Noah turned and looked toward the north road. A man and woman near the edge of the clearing shouted out the names.
“Please. Please, try to calm down,” Mehul said, his arms held up, slowly quieting the group. “I don’t like to assume the worst, but I think we must consider kidnapping. Maybe the barn fire was a diversion.”
“No!” Kani’s mother threw her hands over her ears and shook her head, as if the words could somehow be unheard. She sobbed and dropped to her knees.
“Listen,” Mehul said. “We aren’t doing them any good standing around here. Go back and check your homes again, search every place you can think of.” He motioned to Varelk and another man. “Grab some torches and let’s search the edge of the forest.”
“What should we do?” Noah asked.
“Do you have any tracking skills?” Varelk asked.
Noah dropped his gaze and shook his head.
“Then plead with the Creator that the children might be found.”
Aterre hit Noah’s shoulder. “I’m going with them.”
The crowd quickly dispersed. Kani’s mother slowly stood and returned to her home, calling h
er child’s name as she went.
Noah stared into the night sky. “O Most High, please keep the children safe. If they are lost or hiding, help the Zakari to find them soon. If they’re kidnapped. ” He felt his face redden with anger, and he gritted his teeth. “If they were taken, then please help us rescue them, and may the kidnappers receive justice.”
Chapter 11
Something squeezed Noah’s shoulder. He paused as his mind clumsily drifted from dreamland to reality. Someone was shaking him.
“Noah, wake up.”
He blinked a few times, trying to get his eyes to adjust, but darkness filled the room. Aterre’s voice eventually registered.
“They’re getting ready to leave.”
“Who’s leaving?” A short, fitful night of sleep fogged his thinking. Noah felt like he was clawing at many vague concepts, trying to land on what was solid. Thus far, a losing battle.
“The Zakari. The men are heading out to track down the missing children. You said you wanted to go with them.”
Noah sat up, the memories from the late evening finally rushing back. He stood quickly and shook his legs in an effort to wake his tired body for what lay ahead. “Of course.” With the grogginess slowly fading, he girded his waist and wrapped the remainder of the robe over his shoulder. Then he slipped on his footwear and followed Aterre out of the guest hut. The day was dawning, but the stars held their nighttime posts like trustworthy sentinels posted across the sky, except in the east, which was painted with faint swaths of pink and red.
Stopping Aterre, Noah leaned close so as not to be overheard. “I forgot to tell you last night. Don’t let them see your tattoo. They have a very negative view of Sepha.”
“How do you know that?”
“Mehul talked to me about it. Be careful.”
“I will. Thanks.”
They jogged toward a small group at the west side of the clearing. The cool morning air filled Noah’s lungs and invigorated him. As they neared those who had gathered in the stillness of the morning, Noah counted eight men and four women. The men were armed with thick, cubit-long blades with short handles. Two of them carried bows and each sported a quiver of arrows.
One of the men held a torch aloft, and with his other hand he pointed toward the edge of the trees. “This is where they passed into the forest.”
“Are you sure?” Varelk asked.
“Yes, Father, the footprints lead up to here, and look at the broken blades of grass and that snapped twig.”
Noah recognized him in the faint light as Elam’s father. Korel? Vorel? What was his name?
Varelk turned. “Ah, Noah and Aterre. Thank you for joining us. Please know that you’re not obligated to help us.”
“We want to. No child deserves —” Aterre broke off. Tilting his head back, he took a deep breath and clenched his fists. “No child should ever be taken from their parents.”
“We’re glad to help.” Noah stepped beside Aterre.
“And we’re grateful for your assistance,” Varelk nodded and looked to his son. “Parel, we’ll follow you.”
Parel. That’s it.
“Father, I don’t think it’s a good idea for these men to join us.” Parel angled his blade in Noah’s direction.
Varelk crossed his arms. “We can use all the help we can get.”
Parel glared at Noah and then Aterre. “How do we know that they weren’t part of a plan to kidnap our little ones? What if they came as a diversion, knowing that we’d take them in and celebrate their visit? Then somebody else set the barn ablaze to keep us busy?”
Unable to believe what he was hearing, Noah opened his mouth to defend himself, but closed it when he realized that from Parel’s perspective, the scenario made sense.
“Then why would they risk their lives running into a burning barn?” Varelk asked.
Parel held his torch higher and looked Aterre in the eyes as he spoke. “Maybe to make the deception even more believable.”
Varelk stepped between the two men. “But why stay?” His voice was gentle. “Couldn’t they have run off during the fire or while we slept?”
“I don’t know.” Parel’s scowl turned to Noah. “Maybe so they could lead us off the trail today.”
Noah refused to look away, thinking that a failure to hold his stare would seem like an admission of guilt. “May I speak?”
The man nodded.
“I understand why you don’t trust us. If I were in your position, I’d probably think the same thing.” Noah paused, searching for the right words. “We’re willing to do everything we can to rescue the children, even if” — he glanced at Aterre — “even if that means staying behind. But if you want our help, be assured that we’ll follow your lead.”
“I’ll take responsibility for them,” Varelk said.
After a long moment, Parel sighed and nodded. “Very well.” He met his father’s eyes. “But I still don’t trust them. They stay to the middle of the group and no one goes off alone with them.”
“Agreed. Now, let’s get going before we lose more time.” The older man turned to the four women. “Pray for us.”
Parel waved his torch in a circle over his head. “Let’s go.”
Noah fell into line behind Aterre as the company marched into the forest. After about 20 cubits, Aterre dropped back and walked beside his friend. “I can’t stop wondering about what happened to my mother and sisters. What if they weren’t actually killed like I initially assumed?” Aterre looked up and spoke softly, as if to himself. “If they were only kidnapped. ”
“Then we’ll see what we can do to find them,” Noah said. “Just like we’re doing here.”
Aterre snapped out of his contemplation. “Right.”
Progress came slowly at first as Parel and another man regularly paused to look for signs of recent activity, a task made more difficult by the semi-darkness. Using their long blades, the men hacked their way through a few places where the forest was densest. As the sun rose higher in the sky, their tracking duties became easier.
The farther from the village they traveled, the more convinced Noah became that the children had not wandered off. When Varelk pointed out a man’s footprint in the soft terrain next to two smaller prints, it only confirmed Noah’s fears. Shortly before midday, they stopped when Parel discovered a shredded piece of cloth and a carved wooden hair rod not quite as long as his hand. He held them up. “Anyone recognize these?”
The muscles in Liun’s cheeks bulged as he clenched his jaw. “Those are Kani’s. The carved butterfly on the end is her favorite.” He took the item as tears welled in his eyes. “She had two of these.”
“You’ve got a smart girl,” Varelk said. “She’s leaving us a trail to follow.”
Parel faced Liun. “We’ll find them.”
“Indeed we will, but first let’s take a short break.” Varelk sat on a fallen tree. His cheeks sagged in a face grown haggard overnight. “We’ll need to eat to keep our energy up.”
Erno, the thin drummer from the night before, slipped his pack from his shoulder and handed a small bag of food to each person. Erno’s son had also been snatched in the raid. The man had said very little during the morning, but his countenance spoke volumes in its look of pure determination.
Noah found a spot on the log near Varelk. Very little was said while they hurriedly ate their meal. The combination of hunger and fear set the pace and subdued their tongues. No one smiled, and no one laughed.
During the temporary reprieve, Noah took a chance to look at his surroundings. Here were the same kind of large-leafed trees from the day before. Insects skittered across the giant foliage at various speeds. A green and yellow buzzbird zipped in and out among the white blossoms of a broad bush. Noah marveled at the tiny creature as it darted to a blossom, hovered, and then darted to another flower. Songbirds sang to each other in the canopy above. A faint cry from an animal echoed in the distance, but he couldn’t discern the source.
Aterre stood and sho
ved the last of his rations in his mouth. He motioned for Noah to follow. “Come with me.”
Noah swallowed his last bite as he trailed Aterre to an open area several paces away from the group.
“Where are you two going?” Parel asked.
“Just to the other side of these trees,” Aterre said.
Varelk motioned for his son to sit back down. “I can see them from where I am. They’re fine.”
“What?” Noah asked when his friend stopped in the small clearing.
“I’ve been thinking that we may have to fight the kidnappers to free those children.”
“And?”
Aterre cocked his head. “And you’re a farmer. You’ve never been trained to defend yourself.”
“I knocked you out.” Noah gave him a half smile.
Aterre rolled his eyes. “You got lucky. But this could be a life or death situation.” He spread his feet a little more than shoulder-width apart, left leg in front, and bent his knees slightly. “Take a defensive stance, like this. And put your hands up.” Aterre raised his fists to the level of his chin, the left slightly ahead of the right.
Noah mimicked his friend’s stance.
“Good.” He pulled his knife from the side of his belt. “Now, if I was going to stab at you, how would you get out of the way?”
“Run.” Noah chuckled. Aterre was not amused, so Noah got serious. “I guess it depends on how you attacked.”
“Here.”
Noah took the tooth dagger that Aterre handed him.
“Now stab straight at my chest.”
“Are you sure?” Noah asked.
“Yeah, just go about three-quarter speed, and I’ll show you what to do.”
“Okay, here goes.” Noah lunged forward.
In an instant, Aterre twisted sideways and grabbed Noah’s arm. Planting his left hand under Noah’s elbow, Aterre put downward pressure on Noah’s forearm with his free hand.
“Ouch!” Noah dropped the knife.
Aterre released his grip.
“You could’ve broken my arm.”
Aterre grinned and nodded. “I know.” He picked up the blade. “Now you try.”
