[i]Earlier that morning…[/i]


	Searing pain shocked up Jaan’s legs forcing the man to a sudden halt. The aging farmer tightened his grip on the rough sawn fence, all the air in his lungs escaping in a single pained gasp. Leaning against the sturdy lumber he relaxed his body, clenching his eyes shut and counting down the seconds. Every deep breath receded the swelling agony that threatened to beat him to his knees and wash over him like a tidal wave. He had been working too hard. Meilou cautioned him he was pushing himself to the brink, obstinately ignoring the warnings his body offered. She had been right, and he was too stubborn to admit it, even now when he could barely think, much less move lest he collapse. He waited impatiently, gritting his teeth, willing himself to outlasting his failing body. The worst of the ordeal was over quickly, barely lasting thirty seconds, but it was enough to leave a lasting impression. The pain did not recede entirely, but at least he could move again.

	The past three weeks had been an unending haze of hard work. The back breaking, sweaty labor that most men would shy away from. The Si Wong desert, and her surrounding lands was an unforgiving mistress, and only the tough managed to force a living from the heat packed soil. It was difficult, yes, but rewarding for the strong willed who were not afraid to get their hands dirty. Already the fruits, or rather tubers of his efforts were stored within the line of thatched silos standing filled to the brim next to his barn ready to be carted into Si Wong for the merchants. The hardest part was finally over, and the rewards would soon be amassed for what surely accounted for a record harvest. That is, if his body did not continue its senseless rebellion against his will and cooperated.

	Groaning his displeasure Jaan forced himself to move, his left leg viciously protesting as he limped into the barn, the bucket he carried slopping water. “Baou, here old girl, a drink an’ breakfast before our trip.”

	A low squawk answered his beckoning call and an imposing creature stepped from the shadows, approaching the familiar figure who invaded her lair. She was an ostrich horse, and a bull of a specimen to boot. At her full height she stood taller than Jaan, her oak trunk like legs supporting her broad feathered chest and large angular head that bore two dark, intelligent eyes. She regarded Jaan as a friend and stood close by, head tilted in curious anticipation as he refilled her trough of both water and feed. Leaving her to sup Jaan inspected the large loaded cart parked in the corner, ensuring all the fastenings were in place and axles were greased to his expectations. Even his critical eye could find no shortcoming, and a begrudging huff escaped his dry lips. The boy did his evening chores the previous night well. If the first cartload proved a good example for the merchants and the payments were substantial Zhei deserved proper acknowledgement. For the first time Jaan had let Zhei select the crème of the crop and load it, curious to see how much he’d learned. His son had proved pivotal this year, working passionately to match his father in the fields, and his energetic efforts could not have been better timed, as Jaan felt the tremendous weight of years weigh down far worse than ever before.

	His inspections done, and Baou happily eating from her trough, Jaan exited the barn made his way towards his house just as the sun began to peek its mighty gaze over the horizon. Another scorcher, Jaan predicted as he stopped to admire this natural beauty and rest his leg. He gave the moaning limb a few seconds to calm itself before beginning his ponderous journey once more, using the fence as a support. The smell of baking rice cakes urged him forward with greater haste, his stomach growling in anticipation. Meilou knew how to send them off properly baking his favorite meal. He quickened his pace, stomping up the wooden steps and instinctively dipping his head ever so slightly to avoid striking it on the low frame.

	Soft brown eyes greeted him in the small interior of their humble home. Meilou was a slight woman, and still beautiful in his eyes despite her greying hair and plain features. She murmured a quiet greeting, casting her gaze roof-wards. “Should I wake him, the meal is almost ready, I know how you like to get going early, before the sun beats down.”

	Having other plans Jaan shook his head. “Nay, I think not. Let him sleep an hour longer. He earned his rest. Besides, I must admit failure on my part, I slept in and the sun already rises. We could not hope to reach Si Wong before noon, even if we departed now.”

	Meilou’s brow knitted momentarily, but the look vanished almost at once. “I shall pack extra water skins then.” She left her true concerns unvoiced. The roads were dangerous this time of year, with all the caravans traveling out of Si Wong. Brigands stalked the roads during the daylight hours awaiting easy prey. Jaan was a no-nonsense man who could handle himself and claimed no fear of highwaymen, but she had seen the way he hid his limp when he strode to the table and recognized the pain on his face. No matter how well he hid its presence Jaan could not fool her.

	They broke their fast to pleasant, simple conversation. Keeping their voices low out of respect for Zhei until about an hour after Jaan’s return the boy dropped from his loft bedroom, landing barefoot and bleary-eyed in the kitchen space. “Awake at last! Thought you might sleep the day away.” Jaan snapped, abandoning his lighter tones for his more usual commanding bark. He reached over and tasseled the boy’s dark locks pulling him towards the table. “Get some food in your belly boy and dress. We need to leave soon if we hope to return home before dark. It’ll be a long day so be snappish about your business.”

	“Yes sir.” Zhei yawned, accepting the wooden plate his mother pushed towards him. She brushed a gentle kiss over his forehead and smoothed down his ruffled hair before returning to her own seat. The child ate and finished quickly as he had been taught. Climbing the rope up to his small personal space in the roof he changed over, dropping back down to the ground floor dressed in dark green and dapple browns common amongst the local farming folk. Jaan gave him the briefest nods, rising and using the back of a chair for support. He could not keep the tiny twitch of his lip from revealing the pain his actions caused, but Zhei did not seem to notice. Meilou however fixed him a piercing stare, one even Jaan could not ignore.

	“Go on then, hitch up Baou. Bring her and the cart around to the front. I’ll join you momentarily.” He ordered, recognizing the look Meilou was giving him. She wanted to talk, and Jaan could already tell they were going to disagree. Something about the way her nose crinkled, and her hands attached themselves to her hips. She was preparing herself for a battle of wills. 

Waiting until Zhei had enough time to get out of earshot Jaan initiated their verbal duel. “Well?”

	“You should rest a day.” Came the stubborn insistence, leaving no room for doubt that if she had her way he would be resting for a week or more. “You went too far, and now you’re killing yourself trying to keep up with, well, yourself! Jaan, please. See reason just this once.”

	“I cannot, even if I was able to convince myself it was necessary.” Jaan countered, his mind already settled on the outcome of this particular debate.

	“Why not? Is it worth putting yourself through needless agony?”

	Closing his eyes Jaan released an impatient sigh. “Every year, on this month and day I deliver the best of my wares to Loh Ma, he inspects them and calculates the value of my total crops. It would be a failure of my contract with him to not respect his time and no doubt busy schedule. He is after all an especially important agricultural official. If I must suffer a few minor twinges I shall do so in silence as I always have done. This is not the work for men who whimper at a few cuts or bruises.” A memory flashed before his eyes as he uttered his final line. Bygone years when he trained in the best dojos in Harushima, his master of battle said those very words to him.

	“Minor twinges…” Meilou muttered. “You need not lie to me Jaan, I see straight through them. Anyone with two eyes could see what you try to refuse to acknowledge.”

	“Woman.” Jaan’s tone was steeped in warning. “This conversation is over. I go today.”

	“If you must.” Meilou conceded defeat on this front, deciding her time could be better spent elsewhere. “At the very least use this.” She drew forth from a hidden part of the house a sturdy little cane, one carved in the likeness of a badgermole, an item Jaan thought destroyed.

	His breath caught, and his eyes flashed. “You kept it!”

	“You should use it, it will help keep your weight off your leg.”

	“I told you to burn that… That thing ages ago!”

	“It was a gift, Li worked awfully hard on it. You cannot burn a gift. And even you must admit it’s quite a good carving. You just do not like it because it proves that even a half blind eighty-year-old man can see what the rest of us know. You. Are. In. Pain Jaan.”

	“Throw it away.”

	“Li meant for you to use it to help walk, not to throw around and discard.” Meilou’s brow furrowed ready to die on this hill.

	“Li can shove it up his boney-“

	“Baou and the cart are ready to go father.” Zhei interrupted, peeking inside. He looked a bit disconcerted, as if he had overheard what had just transpired. Jaan bit his tongue and flashed one last glare at his wife.

	“No Meilou, and this conversation is also over.” He put his full weight on his left leg, his teeth ground together against the discomfort but he held the position in a demonstration of his full capability. He could suffer in silence indefinitely; in the end his mind would always triumph over his body. A lesson he intended to instill in Zhei. A lesson that could not be learned if the boy’s lead role model hobbled around on a cane and took a day off because he was a little bit sore. He stalked from the house into the morning light grumbling under his breath. The sun had fully risen by now and cast long shadows across the ground, painting the desert sky in a mixture of orange and yellows. Already the coolness of the night was gone, replaced by the omnipresent heat that dominated the region year-round. He climbed aboard the large cart, throwing the sack containing their lunch and water supplies into the back. The wooden seat creaked under his bulk as he settled himself and took up the reins. Below the ostrich horse squawked and pawed at the thin grass underfoot, eager to get underway.

	“Have a safe journey, and Zhei don’t you go getting into any trouble with those city kids. I know how they are.” She gave her son a firm hug and pressed the denied cane into his hands. “And be a dear and give this to your father.”

	“Boy if you attempt to hand me that thing, I will break it over your back.” Jaan growled from his seat. He rarely uttered an empty threat, but even still Zhei had to hide his cheeky grin. “Now get a move on, we’ve burned enough daylight already.”

	Zhei tucked the cane securely underneath the piled and tarped produce, cleverly hidden out of sight, but onboard nevertheless, a suitable compromise between his stubborn parents, for the time being, and clambered up next to his father. Jaan rolled his eyes skyward but said nothing more on the matter. Bending down he pressed a kiss onto his wife’s forehead and flicked the reins, clucking his tongue until Baou strained against her restraints pulling the heavy cart forward. The road to Si Wong was long, but they should make it by noon.