Published: 19 Sep 2019

Arthur’s Story—Ezra’s Family

Gondee had taken a line and hook from the equipment box on the boat, and sat at the end of the dock, his line dangling in the water. A bit of bread was his bait. Golgi sat beside the boy, his arm protectively around him, and shared fishermen’s secrets. At the other end of the dock, Arthur and Ezra sat.

“You’re still not sure you should trust me,” Ezra said, pleasantly.

Arthur was startled at the man’s candor. “I just don’t know how Good can exist here,” he said. “All I’ve encountered so far has been so dirty, Dark, Evil.”

“When people are pushed into the ground by a despot, there are two ways they can respond. They can find someone weaker than themselves to push down, or they can help one another climb up.”

Ezra paused. “There’s a third way, and that is to give up, but that leads to stagnation and death, so it’s not relevant.

“My family and I are related some way and however distantly to nearly everyone along the river for a day in each direction. We have kin in a village on the lake down the bayou, and in the village next down the river. We all go from place to place on the river and the lake fishing. We see each other often. More often than most folks who farm and only meet at First Market, I think.

“We have long been accustomed to helping one another through hard times. We know without asking and without saying if one family comes on hard times, others will help, and help will be returned when it is needed.”

“A kindness is always repaid,” Arthur said.

“Exactly. Couldn’t have said it better, myself. Anyway, besides being too poor to steal from, we are too close to one another. Oh, there’s always a bad apple or two that come along each generation. When they’re found out, either they’re shamed into behaving right, or they leave.”

Ezra grinned and pointed to the end of the dock where Gondee hauled in a writhing eel. “Good catch, that,” Ezra said. “He can smoke it if he likes. It’ll bring perhaps thruppence at the market.”

Arthur considered Ezra’s story, and his obvious delight with Gondee’s good fortune. He made up his mind.

“Ezra,” he said. “I told you we were going to Hagen. I know that bothered you. You must know it’s a slave market. How could we have a Good reason for going there?”

Arthur paused. Ezra watched emotions play over the boy’s face. “My Best Friend, a boy with whom I’d sworn Brotherhood, was taken by slavers. Not just Evil men, but soldiers of Eblis led by men in red robes. I think they were mages. They were seen taking boys in chains. I learned of it perhaps a tenday after he was taken. He had taken sheep to summer pasture, and wasn’t missed until—” Arthur’s voice broke; Ezra waited patiently.

After a moment, Arthur continued. “I vowed to find him and free him, and kill those who took him.”

When he saw Ezra wasn’t condemning that thought, Arthur described meeting Golgi and Gondee, and of the seizure of the boat. “The man would have killed Golgi and me, and probably Gondee, as well. I had no choice.”

Arthur looked at Ezra to see how he took this news. The man nodded. When Arthur said nothing, Ezra spoke. “Killing is not necessarily Evil, nor does it change my thoughts about you, lad.

“We must talk more. There are things you must know. It must be later, however,” Ezra continued. “Look, my family returns.”

At the end of the dock, Ezra’s sons tied up their boat, one somewhat larger than the one in which Arthur and the boys had arrived, and then helped their mother alight. She carried a basket. The boys then hauled several baskets, heavy with fish, onto the dock.

“This is Arthur,” Ezra said after greeting his wife. “He and the boys—Golgi and Gondee—will stay with us, tonight.”

There was no need to ask. Golgi and Gondee took the handles a the baskets of fish and followed Ezra’s boys as they went behind the hut. There, on rough plank tables, the fish were gutted, filleted, and hung in a second hut. The boys admired Gondee’s eel, and confirmed what their father said. “Eels are hard to catch,” Nolan said. “And smoked eel is highly prized.”

Arthur helped one of the boys, Dale, haul wood from a pile, and fill a brick and mud stove. Smoke from the stove would be channeled into the hut. “We’ll have to keep the fire going the next three days and nights,” Dale said. He looked at Arthur. “My father likes you or he’d not have asked you to stay. Will you partner me, tonight?”

Arthur must have looked puzzled, for the boy gestured to the tables where the others were still filleting fish. “We pair off. Two are always awake watching the fire and splitting wood. Two are asleep. We are three brothers, so father always partners one.”

“Yes,” Arthur said. “I would like that. The two little ones,” he gestured to Golgi and Gondee, “they are perhaps too young to work alone, although I believe Golgi to be very responsible and smart. How can they help?”

Leaving Nolan and the boy Sean, the third brother, with Gondee, to watch the fire, Dale led Arthur and Golgi to bathe. The bath adjoined the smoking hut, and the heat of the fire warmed the water. Rather, it had begun to warm the water. “Nolan and the others will get a hot bath,” Dale said. “And we will, tomorrow.” He grinned. “When we’re smoking the fish is the only time the bath is hot.”

Golgi seemed to be uncomfortable, and was almost rude in his insistence that he wash Arthur. He did relent, and allow Dale to wash him, however. Later, Arthur spoke quietly to Golgi. “These people are the first nice people we have met. I want to share boy magic with Dale. Don’t say anything yet. I want to share boy magic with Dale, and I want to share with you, too. And, I’m pretty sure Dale wants to share with you.

“You and I have sworn companionship and loyalty. Even though I did not ask it, you swore obedience. I will not abandon you or Gondee. You are still my companions. I will not ask you to share with Dale, but I will ask you to be polite to him.”

Golgi surprised Arthur. He stood on tiptoe and kissed the older boy. “I’m sorry,” he said. “We’ve never knows anyone as constant as you. I should not have forgotten that.”

Let David know you are reading his stories: David dot McLeod at CastleRoland dot Net

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