The Chronicles of Amon book 1 LINK
Chapter 4.
“Good morning, my friends.” said Amon as he walked up behind the two men. Startled, both of them stopped talking immediately. An uneasy silence fell over them. Neither would look at the other. It was easy to see the tension between the two. Amon took a seat on a nearby log, and continued:
“This will be a good day. Not too much wind.” he said, trying to ease some of the tension he felt between the two men.
“Not too much wind.” Sef repeated, staring intently into the fire. Amon could see the tension in his friends shoulders, the muscles in his cheek flexing, the furrowed brow.
“This man speaks ill of my father!” Sef jumped to his feet excitedly, pointing an accusing finger at the other, who also rose in defense. “Nahm accuses him of taking ‘another’ for his mate!”
“Is what he says true, Nahm?” Amon turned to face the accuser. It would not be necessary for him to broach the subject himself. For this he felt a measure of gratitude and relief.
“It is so! I saw them together!” Nahm lied. He was obviously frightened, but he stood by what he said, even in the face of threats being hurled at him by the defendant’s son.
“My friends, let us be calm.” Amon leaned forward toward the fire, pitching a few small branches onto the now dwindling flame. Deliberately he avoided eye contact, letting the weight of the accusation sink in for both men. He stirred the coals lightly, waiting for the two men to calm.
Amon reasoned that the accusation must be false because the only simian females that could possibly have been in contact with Sef’s father were already mated with other ‘seeded’ males within their clan.
It was the nature of seeded couples to remain loyal to one another. Evander had explained that that trait had been incorporated into the ‘change’ each simian had undergone. Nahm had probably interpreted the actions of Sef’s father incorrectly. The old simian was undoubtedly distraught because of the loss of his mate, and had only ventured close to those of his species for some small measure of comfort. Beyond that, their clan had separated themselves from their old ‘unseeded’ clans years ago.
“This is a serious matter” he said, moving back to his seat on the log. With only a little hesitation, the two men sat back down, this time on opposite sides of the fire. Each glared back at the other across the crackling flames.
“Amon.” Nahm was the first to start again. “You have been the one to lead us for all this time. What you have done and said has been good for us. We follow you because of this.” He gathered courage as he continued. He was beginning to doubt his assumptions about Sef’s father, but wasn’t willing to admit it.
“This man’s father has no mate. She died by the serpent. Now he has no one.” He gestured toward Sef. “I see his grief in his face, and I grieve for him also. But this cannot excuse what his father has done!”
“I remember.” Amon sighed, remembering the serpent lash out, sink its fangs into the female simian’s surprised face, then thrash about as Nahm seized it and broke its neck.
“That was a bad day. not like today.” Amon turned to the other man, searching his eyes for a solution. Sef, the embittered son held his gaze for a few moments, then looked down toward the fire as he spoke.
“My father is still grieved and angry because of his loss. He spends all his time alone when we are not travelling. He does not feel comfortable being here, close to all of us.”
“It is sometimes hard to be with other people when they are happy and you are not.” Amon spoke quietly as he leaned forward to check the cooking meat. “I think these are ready now.” He retrieved two sticks of the sizzling meat and handed one to each man. He took a third for himself and handed the last one to his father.
Pa caught his son’s eye pleadingly, wanting to know why he had not returned to the edge of the camp. Pa knew something that neither of the two men knew. It was important that Amon be apprised of the whole situation before he made any decision regarding the issue at hand.
Amon saw the concern in his father’s face. He knew that this would not be easy for anyone involved. He had tried to imagine the worst possible scenario, and had tried to prepare himself emotionally. In so doing, he was able to detach himself from the experience and take a more objective look at the other players.
With a gentle, but firm expression, he let his father know that he was prepared. Settling back comfortably, he pulled a small, steaming slice off the end of the stick. He sniffed it, touched it with the end of his tongue to see if it was cool enough, then popped it into his mouth. The others did the same. The silence was not quite so noticeable now. Tensions seemed to dissipate with the wisps of smoke.
Beyond the small circle where the men sat, others began moving quietly about. Soon the meadow would be filled with sounds of activities of the morning. But for now there was a stifled hush over everything. People deliberately avoided going near the fire pit. Word of what had been happening had gotten around quickly. Everyone knew that a confrontation was inevitable. Everyone watched and listened, while pretending not to notice the four figures sitting there, together, eating.
Nahm, the accuser, sat motionless, staring into the fire, watching the coals change from orange to gray and back again as wisps of air caressed them. He chewed on the tough meat slowly, resolutely. He knew that what he said he had witnessed had been a lie. He knew that the so-called incident had been whispered among others of the clan. He had overheard the rumors so many times that he was now beginning to believe them. He knew what he had done was wrong, but he lacked the courage to admit it. His thoughts wandered back to the days on the open plain, before these troubling times. He longed to be back there now, before all this coldness, before all these problems.
He didn’t want to create more problems for the clan. They already had a hard enough time just surviving. No one wanted more problems than they already had.
He knew this man Sef well. They had walked side by side for days upon days. They had killed game together. They had starved together. And now he must confront the reality of the situation he had created. Now this terrible wrong must be resolved, no matter how hard it would be for him to do so. He simply didn’t know what to do.
The emotion he felt was genuine. It was new. It was human. How could he possibly comprehend what his friend Sef’s father was going through? All he really knew was that the old simian continuously dragged behind, slowing everyone’s progress. And when they did stop, the old simian would wander around the camp, edging ever closer to those of his species.
The stress of the trek was taking it’s toll on everyone, simian as well as human. Nahm was at a loss as to how to cope with such an ordeal. All he really understood was that the situation must be resolved. Pride and embarrassment were new emotions to him. His simian parents had never prepared him for such situations. Such emotions had never been a part of their primitive culture.
He had never suffered such a loss, as had his friend Sef. His thoughts returned now to that terrible day . . . the day Sef’s mother was killed.
They had been making good progress that morning. They had finally made it out of the densest part of the undergrowth and had stopped next to a small rivulet of water. It’s source bubbled up from a small spring near the top of a nearby shallow embankment. The top of the embankment was awash in grass as high as a man’s waist. A section of the embankment had been washed away, revealing the stone layered beneath.
The narrow ribbon of water slithered its way between the flat stones, spilling down, pooling, then spilling over, to continue winding downward. It gurgled and splashed, flowing off the edges of flat stones protruding from the embankment. Underneath the stones a moist, cool shade offered protection for other tiny lifeforms as they skittered about their busy lives.
Above, on the warm, sun-drenched side, a tawny brown and gray-speckled serpent coiled languidly, feeling the heat rise up through it’s belly. It dozed serenely in the bright, soothing warmth.
The old simian woman was glad to have th
e chance for a rest. They had been going for well over an hour now, and she was near exhausted! Her mate was helping, but she just wasn’t feeling up to it today. There was an outcrop of rocks up there ahead. She could see it! There was shade! And water too!
The others were all stopping there in that low spot. They were all bending down to drink, but her poor old back just wouldn’t let her! Easier to just sip it off the edge of those rocks over there.
Nahm saw her move away and had just turned to follow, when he saw the coiled reptile spring! In that instant it seemed that everything froze. Everything except the serpent’s tail as it whipped up into the air.
“It was my mother who died that day!” Sef pounded his chest in anguish. “I know the pain! I know what it is to watch your mother die before your eyes, blood dripping from her swollen eyes! I know what it is to wipe the foam from her lips as she gasps her last breath!”
He collapsed into sobs before them, wrenching the remaining meat from the stick and tossing it aside.
Nahm remained, transfixed, overcome by the emotion of the moment, unable to respond. His hands clenched and unclenched as his mind searched frantically for a way out of this situation.
Amon placed a hand on the sobbing man’s shoulder, then looked toward the accuser. Their eyes connected, but no words came. Nahm’s eyes searched the ground, unable to look at his leader, fearful that his leader had discerned the truth. After several uneasy moments Amon continued.
“Why is it that we must suffer so?” Amon looked back to the man there before him. “What can be done to satisfy this loss? How can we continue?” He drew Sef close to him, weeping as he spoke.
“My brothers, there is deception between us.” said Amon. Breath caught in Nahm’s throat. Had his lie been found out?
Sef gathered himself, took a deep breath, then slowly looked up into Amon’s eyes. He stood slowly, breaking eye contact several times before settling his gaze on a spot on the ground between them.
“Yes. It is true.” Sef began. “There is deception between us.” He turned toward Nahm.
“I know what you said is not true. And though it disappoints me, still I will not condemn you. You are stricken by the rumors, as am I. But they are not true. My father has not left my sight. I see his sadness, and I share it. You too are distraught by what you hear, and wish to end this discomfort. In so doing, you have been seduced by the lie.”
Nahm sat quietly, absorbing what was being said. The kindness he felt coming from his friend softened his heart. His eyes still downcast, he responded.
“Sef, my brother. I have wronged you. I have wronged your father also. I have allowed myself to be distracted, to become compromised by my vanity. I knew that I was wrong when I made the accusation, and I chose to lie, even to myself.”
Slowly the two men rose and stepped close to each other.
Nahm extended a hand, eyes still downcast.
“My brother, I will not do this ever again. I beg your forgiveness.” He looked up into the eyes of his friend.
For a long moment there was silence. Amon remained seated, watching as his two friends reconciled. His heart filled with love for them as they clasped hands.
“I understand . . . and I forgive. We are brothers. That will never change.” Sef placed and hand on Nahm’s shoulder and gestured that they sit together.
His gaze found it’s way across the flames into Amon’s eyes. They were kind eyes. Not angry or afraid. He continued.
“There is yet another thing which I must speak of.
My father has chosen to go back to his old family.” The confession was real, though it had taken a turn neither Nahm, nor Amon had expected. The issue had been centered on the belief that the father had ‘been with’ a member of the old family. Now the situation had changed completely.
The attachment Sef described about his father was something more than just physical. There remained an emotional attachment to the old family. One that had always been there for most everyone, even after the ‘seeding.’ But it had been overshadowed, put in the background by the new emotional attachments the ‘seeded’ simians had developed between themselves and their offspring, and eventually with the other families.
“When my father’s mate, my mother, died, there was an emptiness left within both of us. It was a frightening place where my father feared to go. It was filled instead with uncertainty, and doubt. Everyone around him lavished themselves upon him, trying to help fill the void. But they didn’t understand.”
Sef paused for a moment, trying to subdue the pain he was feeling.
“In the old family my father felt safe. There was routine, predictability. He could hide out as long as he wanted and no one would know that he had changed, that he was ‘different.’ Maybe he could have even been the leader, if he was smart enough.”
“Is this your father’s desire, or is this yours?” Amon asked as he gazed into his friend’s eyes. From the corner of his eye he saw his father shift position.
Pa inhaled involuntarily. This was the ‘secret’ he thought only he knew about! How did his son know? Had he seen something too?
“I know of your love for your father. I know of your desire to watch over him in his infirmity. He will surely need you as the days slip away before him.”
“Then you do not mind that I go with my father?” Sef said in relief.
“How could I or any other refuse? You are now a grown man and can fend for yourself. But your father needs you. Go with him and live your lives well.”
“Thank you, my friend.” Sef wiped the tears from his eyes as he spoke. “I know of the risks I will face living in solitude. It will not be so difficult. I have no mate to encumber me.” Sef looked longingly into the distance. Amon knew that this too was a source of painful discomfort for his friend.
Sef collected himself, returning his attention to the issue at hand.
“I will remain hidden from the ‘others’ so that my father may gain comfort in their association, without concern for me being discovered. He will come to visit me as he is able. We have spoken of this many times and know what must be done. he has vowed restraint in the matter of mating. He will not seek leadership within his family.”
Amon walked over and held the man close, gesturing for Nahm to join them. Nahm stepped forward reluctantly, unwilling to make eye contact with either of his friends.
Amon spoke gently: “We have shared much, you and I and all the others. The loss of your mother was a loss for us all. You will be missed, but not forgotten. Go now, my brother. Go in peace.”
Sef smiled meekly, avoiding eye contact. Then with a quick last embrace, he turned and moved away to join his father. The two of them walked slowly away, then slipped back into their shelter and emerged again a few moments later, their few possessions slung across their backs. It was obvious that they had been planning and preparing for this moment.
Looking briefly back toward the encampment, Sef placed a hand on his father’s shoulder. Turning as one, they moved off into the morning mist.
The farewell had been brief. The rest of the clan took this as a cue, and began breaking camp as well. Amon stood there watching the two figures disappear into the mist. “What will become of them?” he wondered. After a few more moments, he returned to his shelter, and began helping his mate take the soggy old roof apart.
A while later, Broc walked back in from his patrol of the perimeter.
“So, my brother. You provided an honorable way for them to depart. Never did you confront or challenge them.”
“Never was it my place to judge the content of another man’s heart.” Amon took a slow, deep breath and continued.
“How a man walks among us. That is the thing I watch. But can I judge a man if I have not walked in his shoes? Only he can judge himself. I can certainly be aware. Even wary. But he is still my brother and is deserving of my trust, until he himself betrays it.