[center][h1][color=mediumseagreen] A Garden of Doubt[/color][/h1] [h3][color=Navajowhite]Chapter I - Dishonor[/color][/h3][/center] [hr] “Come on come on!” Elena shouted, voice full of fright as her brown hair whipped in the wind of her own feet. They ran through the woods, sticks and brambles poking and scraping them with every step. Every frantic step. It felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest but they kept going and all the while, Elena held tight to that basket. A dog howled behind them, it was getting closer now, followed by the sound of Yazif’s men. They whooped and shouted, egging the dog ever towards its quarry. [i]Them[/i]. They weaved through the forest, hoping to make it to the river. That way they could lose the dog and it was so close, he could see the break in the trees! But one wrong step by Elena, and it was over. She tumbled to the ground, her basket of ill gotten fruit spilling out onto dry leaves and yellow grass, like bright jewels. He stopped in his tracks and went to his friend but Elena protested. “Zayd go! Run!” she shouted but it was futile. He wouldn’t leave her behind. How could he? She gave no protest when he began to help her up, but by that point it was too late. There came a deep growl, and Zayd whipped around to see the black hound of Yazif, teeth bared and hackles raised. He froze with fear, staring into it’s yellow eyes. Footsteps followed it not long after, and three men came running towards them. Zayd tried to fight back but it was no use, a punch to his stomach sent the wind out of him and he felt Elena be ripped from his grasp. She screamed, the dog barked and Zayd fell to his hand and knees, gasping for breath. Someone whistled and in an instant the dog stopped barking and whined. He lifted his head up to see Yazif, wearing his family robes of crimson, emerge from the trees. Elena was held by one man, but her eyes were on Zayd. Blue eyes brimmed with tears. “Did you really think you could steal from me and run away? In broad daylight no doubt! I mean, honestly,” he came over and grabbed Zayd’s hair, lifting his head up. The smell of stale ale permeated from his lips, “You kids aren’t the smartest in the bunch and oh, you’ve wasted it.” His eyes fell upon the spoiled fruits. Yazif frowned, his black hair greasy and unwashed as he moved it out of his eyes. “Well, let’s get this over with. You know the price for stealing.” He pulled out a long, copper knife from his robe. “Shall I start with you or the girl?” Zayd’s eyes glanced at Elena and Yazif wrenched him free from his grasp, landing with a grunt. “Girl it is.” Yazif said without a hint of emotion. “No! No! It was me! It was my idea! I wanted your fruits, not her. I-I-I dragged her into this. Don’t punish her! Please!” Zayd shouted, trying to get to his feet, but he was shoved to the ground again. Yazif turned to him and crouched down. “Oh, is that so? Well then, I suppose that means instead of a finger, I’ll take a hand.” Zayd began to breath faster as his anticipation grew at an alarming rate. A sickness he had never felt welled up inside, almost making him throw up. Yet he felt himself lifted, arm outstretched as he fought back but it was no use. Yazif lifted the knife higher and then- “No! It was me!” Elena shouted, “It was my idea, don’t listen to him! Punish me, not him. Not him.” She cried, no longer struggling against her captor. For the first time, Yazif looked amused. “You know girl, I believe you. It takes a certain type to take the blame for another. Honorable even. But, all it really does is make him a liar. A lying thief, at that.” Yazif touched the tip of the blade to his cheek and stroked his goatee as he looked between the two of them. Then he laughed, a cruel smile forming on his lips, “Fine, I won’t take his hand. But I will take his tongue.” And he gave a nod. A grimy hand grabbed his cheek, Elena began to scream in protest and before he knew it, his mouth was being pulled open. He couldn’t bite down, all he could do was panic and plead like some pathetic creature. Some pathetic creature that couldn’t even speak. Was that his future? “Don’t make this harder than it has to be boy, or we’ll take something a little more sensitive.” Yazif sneered, gesturing with the blade. “Trust me, you’d rather keep that then a tongue.” Zayd’s eyes went wide at the thought of that- He wanted to be a man and not… With a great amount of reluctance, he stuck out his tongue and felt the taste of metal as Yazif pressed the flat of the blade on his tongue. Yazif was toying with him, even now. The anticipation was beginning to take its toll on Zayd, as tears and snot ran down his face. “Remember boy,” Yazif said, flipping the blade up.”Women are never worth it.” There was a sharp sting, a flash of pain and the loss of something dear. Something needed. He could feel a warm liquid fill his mouth as the world became a fog. Elena’s screams and Yazif’s laughter fading into the black abyss of sweet silence. [hr] [center][sub] Several Years Later [/sub][/center] Zayd ran his fingers through the dry dirt. The sun was beating down on his bare back, only adding to the stifling heat of the day. There was no breeze to be had and no rain cloud in sight but the work had to be done with or without the few comforts the gods could afford. As his baba had always said. Now that old man looked down on them, probably laughing at their misery. He smirked at the thought, worming his index finger into the dirt to make a hole. He then grabbed the bag of chickpea seeds and took one out. He looked it over, making sure it was healthy. Satisfied, he placed it into the hole, then pushed the dirt over the seed and gave it a slight pat. That was one down, and now… He looked over the small field he found himself in, half was planted and the other half still needed seeds. He breathed out his nose and grimaced. Then got to work. Later that night after the planting was done for the day, he went back to the homestead. Several huts sat around a large opening, cobbled together with stone, mud and clay. Draped with colorful cloth and drying clothes, it was a hectic place. He was not the only one who called it home and that was apparent when a band of children came to greet him. Running, whooping and hollering in the dying light of Oraliyah. For Zayd came from a large family. A very large family. His father and his brothers all called it home with their wives and children, having come to settle there with baba and his wives. For baba had come from the old stock, from the west, having won his freedom and fortune by chance one fateful day, or so baba had said. As he walked to his father’s hut, Zayd could hardly count all the faces of his cousins, nieces, and nephews. There was great laughter here, infectious with each passing step and Zayd did his best to greet everyone with a wave and a smile. The very air smelled wonderful, full of spices and cooking things. It made his mouth water and his stomach growl. He picked up his pace, for he knew his mother would have the nightly supper ready. Before he could enter his family's hut however, his older brother, Saban erupted from the door as if he had been waiting for him. He was pulled to the side of the house and out of sight from anyone. Saban’s curly hair was unkempt and his face still yet to be washed, was grimy. Zayd frowned, pushing Saban’s hands off of him. He raised his eyebrows and Saban began to grin like a fool. “Zayd, my brother, you are looking fine today. Perhaps a bit too smelly for mother’s liking but that just means you worked hard, yes?” He spoke in a silky voice, the type that made one know where this conversation was going to go. Zayd shoved him in return and began to walk away. Saban grabbed his wrist. “Okay okay! Brother please, listen to what I have to say! You’ll like this I swear.” Zayd turned to him and crossed his arms, tilting his head to the side as he stared at his brother. “You know how mother and father want you to wed Nashwa?” He could hardly contain his smile now. Zayd grimaced and stood straighter, that was a topic of contention of late. He did not want to wed that woman. She was far too needy and loved to be pampered, even her voice made him cringe. Zayd outstretched his hands and shook them at Saban. His brother chuckled. “Relax, Zayd. Today they found out she’s going to wed some snob from Artikulah. You’re saved!” Saban clasped his shoulders and Zayd let out a large sigh of relief. That was wonderful news. He then grabbed Saban’s shoulders and looked him in the eyes, nodding his head in question. “Yes yes, I am sure of it. Mother tells me everything, remember?” Saban’s smile faded as he looked to the floor. Zayd’s eyes narrowed and he shook him. “There is some other news, I’m afraid. The captain of the guard in Artikulah… He demanded every house under their ‘protection’ deliver them two sons of age, in accordance with the old ways. For war.” Saban squeezed his shoulder. “Father is sending myself and Imraan.” Zayd gulped and began to shake his head as his face turned into a scowl. He would go give his father a piece of his mind on this. He knew it should be him! Not Saban! As he tried to free himself from Saban,his brother did not let him go. Instead he spoke, “It’s the only way, Zayd. Imraan has always wanted to be one with the sword, you’ve known that the moment he could wield one to practice and I, I do my duty for my family.” Zayd looked away from Saban, a wash of emotions welling up inside, wanting to burst forth. “Zayd, look at me. Look at me!” Saban said in a stern voice and he did after a moment. “This is not your fault brother. Do not blame yourself, this is for the best. Just trust me. Let’s just go and eat alright? Mother has made your favorite.” He cracked a small grin. Zayd nodded and when Saban finally let him go, he bolted. “Zayd no!” Saban called after him as they entered the house. He found his parents and siblings around the table. All eyes fell on him as he entered the room, pointing at himself. Why wouldn’t you pick me? Why why why? He wanted to shout, but all he could do was point at himself, shaking his head in anger. “Zayd, what the matter?” His mother asked, raising from the table. Saban then arrived and his mother looked to his father, who he had not taken his eyes off of. He was a large man with an even larger beard. His laughter could shake the whole house but at that moment, all he could see was a betrayer. “Saban, you didn’t.” His mother began to shake her head. “I- wanted him to hear from me. I thought he would understand if I explained it.” His brother said. “Oh Saban.” His mother frowned. The rest of his siblings all grew quiet as his father finished the piece of meat he was eating. He took a drink and then said, “Sit down and eat my sons. We can discuss this tomorrow.” Zayd shook his head and stomped his foot on the ground. Now his father stood and everyone seemed to grow still. “What do you want me to say!” He slammed a fist onto the table and the rest of his children scattered, leaving the oldests among them remaining. Imraan, Saban and Eshe, his older sister. “Kaid, please.” His mother said in a pensive tone, hands on the table. “Salma, not now. If the boy wants to know why I won’t send him in Saban’s stead, then he can learn a hard truth.” His father said, brushing off his shirt. Zayd relaxed his shoulders and crossed his arms again, looking hard at his father. Waiting for whatever lie he was going to be told. “Don’t give me that look Zayd. You have no idea what this means for this family. This is a great honor, to be in service to the Hash’Lahan, to mean something! So they can make names for themselves, your brothers! Be happy for them, for they will be able to have multiple wives like baba! They can have their own land like baba! They won’t have to be stuck in one place forever like us!” He looked to his wife for a sign of reassurance, but her face was of stone. His father sighed and looked him dead in the eye, “I am sorry, Zayd. I will not send one who has no tongue. It would dishonor us all.” Zayd recoiled as if stuck. That was not a lie, was it? His face all at once became a canvas of shock and sadness that melted into anger each passing second as he looked to the faces of his siblings who would not return his gaze. He clenched his hands into fists, taking a ragged breath before turning and running out of the hut. He could hear shouting behind him, and his name being called but as he ran, their voices were replaced by the roar of a fading fire and the eventual cold of dark. [Hider=Summary] A story taking place sometime in the Garden. Zayd and his gal pal Elena get caught stealing fruit from an orchard. Zayd takes the blame for it even though it was Elena who did everything. Seeing how Zayd is about to lose a hand, she confesses and Zayd meets a new punishment. Years later a now mute Zayd lives at home with his big extended family planting some chickpeas. At the end of the day he arrives home and his brother Saban confronts him with some news. Zayd is no longer going to be wed off which is good news but Saban and his other brother are being sent away to become soldiers. Zayd doesn't like this and confronts his father who basically says his brothers will have every opportunity to become wealthy and he will not dishonor the family by sending a mute. Zayd then runs off angry. What will happen next? [/hider] [hider=MP] Zip. [/hider]