by Tim Chaffey
Emzara nodded slowly and Noah dropped his gaze, finding it difficult to imagine what Jitzel was going through. What would I have done if something had happened to Em? He shook his head, trying to banish the dreadful thought from his mind. “Thank you all for coming. We . . .” He gulped and gestured to Emzara and Nmir. “We couldn’t do this without you.”
The group turned and the men made their way around the side of the house. Noah fell into step behind Garun, thankful for the momentary silence. Stopping beside the low grassy mound that marked the grave of Em’s mother, Noah pointed to the ground adjacent to it. “Right here.”
“And the other one?” Zain asked in a somber tone.
Forcing his thoughts to the task at hand, Noah glanced at Cada. “Here or at your place?”
Cada’s puffy red eyes looked away. “Here. I think it would be too tough of a reminder for my daughter at our place.”
Noah nodded. “Over here then.” He walked several cubits beyond the first mound, plunged the sharp blade of his shovel into the ground, and hoisted a scoop of fresh soil to the side. He simply watched the blade slice into the soft sandy soil and cleanly come up again. Slice. Lift. Drop. Slice. Lift. Drop. The repeated action consumed his mind as he zeroed in on the sounds and the fresh memory of Bayt’s crooked grin. The tool dove deeper with each thrust, allowing Noah’s anger to fuel his work. With each load his frustration grew and tears dropped freely from his eyes. Soon, the rhythm from his implement was joined by a second scoop as Tubal-Cain joined him. When Noah stopped to catch his breath, he scanned the group. Where’s Aterre? He dropped his shovel as the pain stabbed him anew and cut through him just like his spade had pierced the earth.
* * *
Wind from the sea just beyond rippled through his hair and whipped across his face. The salty fragrance brought Noah a measure of peace, and he inhaled desperately. The sun hung low on the horizon, but for the first time the radiant oranges, pinks, and purples brought no joy.
Deep within his soul, he silently pleaded with his Maker. Most High, You have made all things. Surely nothing is too difficult for You. Oh, how I wish the sun would return in its course to last evening and You’d stay the hand of the murderer and spare the lives of Your faithful followers. I don’t want to face another day without them.
Noah paused before placing a shovelful of earth over Aterre’s grave. The two fresh mounds joined the older grass-covered one. Each berm stood about knee-high and was several cubits in length, although much narrower in width. The bodies of his friends rested on separate wooden planks and were wrapped with linens. Aterre had been placed first, and then Ara, so that he was right next to Biremza’s resting spot. Silently, the men steadily piled soil on top, grading the surrounding landscape and packing it in tightly.
Using his forearm, Noah wiped sweat from his brow and resumed his work, eager to finish the task before losing the sunlight.
Emzara sidled up to him, an unlit lantern in her left hand held aloft.
“This one’s for Baba. We’re almost ready to begin.”
Cada carried a similar lantern toward him. “This is for Aterre.”
Hand in hand they stepped to Ara’s mound. Letting go for a moment, Noah drove the lantern’s post deep at the head of the rise, making sure it would stand. He paused, remembering the face that had looked so kindly upon him when he and Aterre first arrived. The face that had been firm but patient with him as he picked up the new trade and learned the skills needed for shipbuilding. The face that shed tears of joy as he gave his daughter away in marriage. The face that only yesterday had been so happy to hear of the new life. Uncontrollable sobs wracked him and he reached out for Emzara’s hand. Instead, her body crushed him with a fierceness born of deep pain, love, and even desperation.
A wail pierced the descending twilight. Then another one rang out. Soon several voices rose in their loud expressions of grief. The deafening sound caused Noah to hold Em even tighter as they too, joined in. Oddly, the incredible closeness of friends and family mixed simultaneously with the sorrow of separation. As the cries continued, a bucket of cool mud was passed to them. Emzara smeared streaks of it down Noah’s arms before marking her own. “This is to remind us that Greatfather Adam was formed from the ground, and we are made from the same substance. And because of his rebellion, we each die and return to that ground.”
In the dim light, people from town followed suit and covered themselves in long stripes of mud from their cheeks, down their chest and arms, to their legs.
Zain stepped forward, his streaked face illuminated by the torch in his hand. He spoke loudly, accentuating his words while lighting the two lanterns. “I light these lamps this evening to honor Aterre and Ara. They were our dearest friends, our family, and we loved them. And we know they loved us deeply in return. Our town wouldn’t be what it is today without Ara’s vision in his work or his wisdom on the council. And who of us hasn’t laughed along with Aterre, whether through his quick wit or his playful spirit. He gave us joy in life. To Noah, Emzara, Nmir, Cada, and Jitzel, you have our support.”
Zain hung the torch on the stake Noah had placed. Raising his hands, he continued, “Creator, receive these two men and enable us to be better because of their examples of faithfulness in serving You. We are again reminded of the ultimate price for disobeying You.” His voice softened. “We are also thankful for Your mercy that allows us to live each day.”
Sounds of assent murmured through the crowd and then died down as each paused in a lengthy silence. An old, bulky man stepped forward from the gathered throng. It took Noah a few moments to recognize Akel with the streaks of mud across his body. He carried a large wooden crate and placed it before the two newly raised places of earth. “Let each person here take a flower cutting from this box and place it on the sites where our dear friends lie. When you have finished saying farewell, the women have prepared evenfeast at Noah’s and Emzara’s home. You are welcome to gather there.”
Noah twined his fingers through Emzara’s. “Almost done. Can you make it?”
She looked up at him gratefully, her red eyes shining with tears in the light of the torches. “I have you.” She squeezed his hand, and together they moved to lead the procession in placing flower cuttings on the graves.
Chapter 11
Carefully guided by the hand of an expert, the carving knife slid gently along the side of the wood, trimming a thin strip from the block. After several more passes, the back of the large-eared tusker began to take shape. Noah set the piece on the table next to the fresh shavings. He brushed the dust from his fingers and used the back of his hand to rub his eyes, which were sore due to the countless tears shed over the past week.
Noah blinked and took a deep breath, fighting the urge to start weeping again. Whittling helped take his thoughts away from the recent tragedy. And another carved animal may brighten Em’s spirit a little. Normally, the shipyard would be the perfect place to find sanctuary for his weary mind. But with Ara gone, Noah could not bring himself to head to work today. Everything about the place reminded him of his father-in-law.
He stood and lifted the hatch on the wall that faced east, propping it open with a small beam he had fashioned. Breathing in the warm morning air, Noah looked through the window at the grove of milknut trees. He grimaced when he heard hammering in the distance. Bakur and Fen must be back at work. The mourning period is officially over. He shook his head. I need to get over there.
Noah spun quickly toward a couple of soft knocks on the door. It had been four days since anyone had stopped to check on them. Emzara was still in bed, as she had been for nearly the entire week since the burials. She had only eaten bits of a few meals and was inconsolable at times.
The knocking started again. “Noah, are you home?”
A partial smile tugged at his lips as he recognized the voice. “I’m coming.” Noah opened the door. “Zain, it’s good to see you.”
Zain’s expression showed sympathy. He held out a basket bedecked wi
th flowers and filled with bread rounds and a couple of small, covered clay bowls. “Kmani wanted me to deliver these.” He tipped his head toward the bowl closest to Noah as he handed him the goods. “She made your favorite berry spread.”
Noah gladly took the basket, and his stomach grumbled, reminding him that he had not eaten since midmeal the day before. “Please thank her for us.”
Zain nodded. “I will.” He looked off into the distance and then down at his feet before back up at Noah. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but you really need to get to the town hall immediately.”
Noah tilted his head. “Why? What’s going on?”
“It’s Garun. Some of the people are blaming him for . . .” He paused as if searching for the right words. “For what happened. And they want the council to meet to decide on his punishment.”
“Garun?” Noah tapped a finger against his lips. “I don’t think he would ever do that.”
“I didn’t believe it either,” Zain said.
“Wait. Why do you need me for a council meeting?” He ran his fingers against the stubble on his face. I haven’t shaved in a week.
“I’ll tell you on the way.”
“Alright, I’ll be right back after I let Emzara know where I’m going.” Noah walked toward his room, setting the basket on the table along the way.
He opened the bedroom door, and Emzara rolled to her side and looked up at him through despondent eyes. Kneeling next to her, he gently rubbed her shoulder. “Kmani sent us some food. I think you should try to eat something.” He slid his hand to her belly and smiled. “Our child is probably hungry.”
Her eyes glistened as she forced a smile. “I’ll try.” Her gravelly words barely surpassed the volume of a whisper.
Noah bent over and kissed her forehead. “I need to go to the town hall. Garun’s in a lot of danger, and Zain’s waiting for me.” He stood to leave.
“Noah, wait.” Emzara cleared her throat as she pushed herself into a sitting position and slung her feet over the side of the bed. She reached out and hugged him around the waist. “Be careful.”
He softly stroked her head. “I will, and I’ll be back as soon as I can. I love you, Em.”
She let go of him. “I love you too.”
Noah hurried into the front room and quickly strapped on his sandals. He dipped a piece of bread into the berry spread and made for the door. Stepping into the sunlight, he squinted in Zain’s direction. “Let’s go.”
Walking at a brisk pace across the beach, Noah devoured his snack in three large bites. The food combined with the wind in his face and the exercise invigorated Noah. For the first time since the murders, the mental fog lifted from his mind. Savoring the last morsel in his mouth, he said, “Kmani’s bread was tremendous.”
“It always is.” Zain turned onto the path that led away from the beach and to the center of town. “You asked me to ask about Bayt to see if he might’ve committed the crimes. I was told that he was on his way out of town the morning you saw him on the beach. No one I talked to has seen him since that day.”
Noah breathed in through a clenched jaw. “But he might have decided to stay out of town until that night so that we wouldn’t suspect him.”
“That’s possible, but why would he even bother showing his face at all? If he had planned to murder Ara, it would make more sense if no one knew he was around.”
“Or that’s just what he wants us to think.”
Zain shrugged. “Maybe, but I have my doubts. It’s no secret he didn’t like Ara, but I don’t think he wanted him dead. Besides, I’m not sure he’s capable of beating Aterre in a fight.”
Noah remained silent while trying to weigh this new information.
“You should know that the council wishes for you to fill Ara’s position.”
Noah pointed to himself. “Me? I’m so much younger than everyone else.”
“You make it sound like I’m so old.” Zain chuckled. “I thought you knew that our rules say that if a council member dies, his heir has the right to replace him until the next choosing. So, for now, that makes you his successor. The next term comes around in eight whole moons. If you want to continue, and if the council believes you’re a good fit, then you could become a permanent member.”
“That’s quite an honor. I’ll need to speak with Emzara about it.”
“Of course. But depending on how things are going with Garun, you may need to fill that role as soon as possible.” Zain stopped and grabbed Noah’s arm. “The people accusing Garun and Bedin are out for blood. They believe that since the crime committed was murder, then the penalty should match. They are talking about executing them.”
Briefly, Noah clenched his jaw and fists. “In many ways, that sounds like a fair punishment, though I don’t know if I could ever make the decision to put someone to death.” He pulled free from Zain’s grip. “But Garun’s innocent.”
Zain let out a breath. “That’s how I feel too. But you are in a unique position.”
“How so?”
“You were close to both victims. As Ara’s son-in-law, only you or Emzara could bring formal charges against the suspected killers. That being said, you were also Aterre’s best friend, and since he and Jitzel weren’t married yet, you’d be the natural person to bring charges for him as well.”
Noah stared straight ahead, processing Zain’s words. “So you’re saying that people might listen to me, if . . .”
“If you can get them to calm down, and especially if you’re on the council.”
“And you’ll help me?”
“In any way I can.”
As they neared the town square, raised voices echoed off the buildings. Noah sprinted to the end of the road to the source of the cacophony. On his left, at the steps of the town hall, approximately 30 people stood, raising their fists and shouting at the two men bound closely together to one of the pillars Noah had carved.
Noah dashed toward the gathering. Ashur and Oban stood helplessly on the top step. Garun and Bedin seemed to be unharmed, but probably not for much longer. The whole scene looked similar to the way Noah pictured a disciplinary sentencing in Iri Sana that his father described to him during his childhood. A man’s wagon beast had died, so he stole one that belonged to his neighbor and dumped the dead one in its place. His crime was eventually discovered. As penalty, he was tied to a post in the street and whipped 20 times. Then he had to return the animal and pay a fine.
But they don’t want to only whip Garun. Noah swiftly picked his way through the crowd and climbed the five short stairs.
“Murderers!” Ethlin, from the front of the mob called out and pointed in Garun’s face.
Stepping between him and Garun, Noah raised his arms to the side and gestured for the crowd to calm. “Please, my brothers.”
“They murdered Ara and Aterre.” Ethlin’s voice maintained its volume.
Noah held up his hand, palm out. “Please, let’s talk calmly.”
“But your friend and father-in-law,” said a man to Noah’s left. “These men should be put to death.”
Noah closed his eyes and breathed deeply, struggling to keep his emotions in check. “Please.” He directed a thumb at Garun and the scribe. “They aren’t going anywhere. Let us discuss these accusations in a peaceful manner.”
Zain called out, “Let’s listen to what he has to say before we make any sudden decisions. After all, he was close to both of the men who were killed.” Slowly, the crowd quieted.
“Friends and neighbors,” Noah said. “Thank you for honoring the seven-day mourning period and for your desire to see justice done.” Scanning the crowd and confident they were willing to listen, Noah continued. “Believe me, no one wants justice for the tragedies more than I do. Aterre was my . . .” He averted his eyes and sucked in a breath through his mouth. Creator, help me.
Noah stood up straight, facing the group again. “He was my best friend for nearly ten years, and he was the best friend a guy could ever want. I could tell yo
u so many stories about him.” He smiled and shook his head. “But now is not the time. And Ara was my father-in-law, my mentor, and my friend. Apart from my wife, no one will miss him more than me.” Noah brushed away a tear from his left eye, but his confidence rose with each completed sentence. Talking about them in this setting helped ease the intense ache inside.
“So what do you think we should do with these men?” Ethlin asked.
Noah turned and faced the accused men for the first time. Bedin’s eyes were wide with fear, and Garun smiled grimly as he looked Noah in the eye, before shaking his head and dropping his gaze.
Noah slowly turned back to the group and sighed. “I think we should set them free.”
“What?” Ethlin asked, and many others echoed his response.
“I agree that the person, or people, who did this deserve death, but I don’t believe Garun is guilty.”
Ethlin put a hand on his shaking, bald head. “No one’s ever been murdered in Iri Geshem until these two showed up.”
Noah nodded and out of the corner of his eye caught a glimpse of Tubal-Cain quickly approaching the scene. “I know the timing looks bad, but if they were guilty, then why would they stick around during the mourning period? They could’ve easily snuck out of town to avoid being accused and captured.”
“That’s true, but maybe they knew we’d think about that, so they decided to stay,” Ethlin said.
“Maybe, but that’s quite an unnecessary risk to take.” Noah’s thoughts drifted back to the day King Lamech arrived. “Let me ask you something, Ethlin. Did Garun put up a fight when you seized him?”
Ethlin smirked. “No, but there were four of us.”
“You’re lucky then.” Noah returned the smirk. “Garun could’ve easily defeated all four of you. He’s trained many of Havil’s guards, and you’ve seen what they’re capable of.”
Ethlin’s grin vanished and he took a step back, looking unsure of himself for the first time. Suddenly, his countenance brightened. “So he would certainly be capable of the murders.”
