Ah what the heck, here it is.
Obed’s twisted and turned as his tormented mind was filled with fire, blood and his mothers screaming.
“Gera, Gera, no, no, no, mother, no, no” he mumbled.
“NO, NO, NO, MOTHER” he shouted aloud as he woke with sweat streaming down his face, it was a dream? He turned his head and looked towards the camp, his mother and brother lay still in the sand and beyond small pillars of smoke were where the tents had been, the camels were gone as was their cargo and all was quiet. He was shivering, the sun was only just rising and it was very cold. He looked down at his sister, she laid very still, her little fists still tightly gripped to his shirt. Obed shook her gently “Zipporah, Zipporah wake up sister”. She didn’t wake so he shook her harder “Zipporah, Zipporah”, she did not move, then Obed realised she was not going to (intense shock and cold had killed her), in panic he quickly grasped her freezing wrists, pulling harder and harder trying to free his shirt from her iron grip without success, he then fumbled with her fingers, forcing them back one by one, then tearing his shirt from her, he pushed her away before vomiting on himself then cried himself back to sleep.
………….
He awoke and looked out towards the camp once more, it was very quiet, so he crawled out slowly, looking all around as he went. The sun was well overhead now and it was hot, he walked past his mother and brother without looking at them and into the camp, all he could see was dead people strewn everywhere. His father, all the other traders, their families and the servant’s dead. He sat down beside his father, held his hand and stared at him blankly.
The sun was setting. Obed seemed to come to his senses and stood up, he walked back to Gera his brother and with great difficulty dragged him back into the small cleft under the rock. He then walked back to his mother, but could not look directly at her as he picked up the dead baby, which he also placed with his brethren. He gave his brother and sister a kiss on the forehead and closed their eyes before filling the cleft in with sand. He then found a scorched blanket in the remains of one of the tents, curled himself up next to his father, placing his head on his fathers shoulder before pulling his arm around himself and fell asleep.
…………………..
“Boy…boy”
It was morning. Obed opened his eyes slowly and saw an old man peering down on him from a donkey.
“Who did this?” the man said before biting into a piece of bread.
Obed knew only a little Persian, though it was enough to tell him it was Persian, but he had no idea what the man was saying, he said nothing. Seeing no reply the man casually turned his head around to his left then right as he surveyed the carnage, seemingly unaffected by it.
“Did they cut your tongue out?”
Still silent, Obed’s eyes fixed upon the bread in the mans hand, for he was very hungry.
“Are you hungry? Here, have it” he outstretched his arm, offering the small chunk of bread. Obed slowly got up, cautiously he walked towards him and took the bread before he took several steps back then quickly gobbled it down. “Come with me”, the old man waved his hand, gesturing for him to follow, before encouraging his donkey forward. Obed stood still and looked around, there was nothing left for him here, all he had known was now gone. The man looked back over his shoulder “Come”. Obed began walking a short distance behind the man, looking back several times at the camp until he could not see it anymore.
After a long days walk they had arrived at a small village near the mountains, and the man, who Obed had learned was named Bel-te-sha-zar introduced him to a woman named Ath-a-li-ah, whom Obed presumed was his daughter and a young girl about his age named Az-a-ri-ah who he believed was his grand daughter. Though Obed did not utter a word.
…………………..
Days past into weeks and weeks into months and months into years, Obed had learned a lot of his new family and had settled into a daily routine of working on their small plot of land, looking after a herd of goats, exploring the mountains and playing with Azariah, whom he considered a sister, although he had recently begun to have different thoughts about her as she was becoming of age. All through the years however he never said a word to them, even though he now understood them well.
He also had spent a great deal of time with Belteshazar, being instructed in the use of weapons of war. He became adept with the spear, the sword, the shield, the bow and the basics on how to ride a horse, learnt on Belteshazar’s donkey. The old man had joined Timur the lames army in his younger days after Timur had conquered Persia from other Mongol Khans and fought in his campaigns against the Golden Horde, India, Georgia, Mamelukes and the Turkish Ottomans, however it was there were he lost his right hand and his only son, Me-shach. Left for dead in Asia Minor he miraculously made it to his daughter in laws home, where he had dwelt ever since. Once a year he would make the journey to Esfahan for Shiite festivities, it was on his return from these festivities seven years ago that he had found Obed. Though Belteshazar had explained to Obed that the Persian Shiites had little to be festive about, being cruelly oppressed by their Sunni overlords, forced to pay exorbitant taxes to fund their lavish buildings in Samarkland and Bukhara to the East, while little justice was in their land where they were brutalized and often slaughtered for minor offences. Rebellion was common though they were crushed with brutal vigour, tens of thousands of Persian Shiites had been executed in Esfahan alone since the Timurids arrival. Fortunately, the little village were they dwelt was rarely visited by the Sunni authorities.
………………..
However one day a tax collectors representative from Esfahan accompanied by three soldiers had arrived in the village and was entering each house taking goods as payment. The collector and two of the soldiers were in Belteshazar’s dwelling demanding payment when Obed was just returning to the village from collecting firewood in the mountains. He noticed a soldier sitting on a horse, next to three other horses tied up on the other side of the village. Obed had a sharp mind and quick eye, he did not miss a lot.
“You took the last of my herds last year and the drought still has not lifted, like I told you, I have nothing for you, we are living off the dust now as it is!” Belteshazar exclaimed.
The collector grabbed a spear off one of the soldiers and started striking the old man with its butt, Belteshazar falling to the ground under the beating.
“Liar, where is your secret stash? I know you Shia’s, you will pay up,” the collector shouted.
“Please! Please stop” Athaliah pleaded with the man as she grabbed the butt of the spear. The nearest soldier then drove his fist into her jaw, sending her reeling across the room and into the wall, where she collapsed on the floor. The other soldier then gripped Azariah’s arm and pulled her to his chest, holding her tightly around her stomach with his left arm while he groped at her breasts with his right hand, she struggled to free herself but he was too strong.
“Here we have our tribute I say” he bellowed, the other soldier broke out laughing as Azariah screamed loudly.
The screams rang across the village and into Obed’s ears, he immediately dropped the basket of wood and ran for the door of his house gripping a large axe. On arriving at the entrance he saw two men to the right, one laughing, Belteshazar on the ground trying to get up, Athaliah slumped against the wall directly opposite him, blood flowing from the corner of her mouth down her throat, and Azariah to his left struggling to break free from a large soldier, who had a long scar running down his right forearm.
That fateful night seven years ago flashed before his eyes, Gera choking on his blood, mother screaming, wicked laughter and a large man filled his mind… THAT large man. In a moment a powerful force deep within him exploded as an overwhelming surge of adrenalin rocketed through his veins, “NNNOOOOOOOOOO MOTHER” he exploded his first words in seven years. Like lightning he was upon the large soldier, before he even knew what was happening Obed lifted his head clean off his shoulders with the sharp blade of the axe, Azariah ripped herself free and dived out of the way as blood was erupting from the mans neck, shooting into the roof and showering everyone while he dropped to the floor. By this time the other soldier had freed his sword from its scabbard and was lunging at Obed swinging it wildly. Obed turned and ducked while he swung the axe with all his might deep into the soldiers side, slicing through ribs and flesh alike, the force sending him flying into the wall, where he slid to the floor and didn’t move again. The collector had dropped the spear and had bolted out the door. Obed, oblivious to everyone else with only one objective in mind, ran for the entrance, scooping the spear up in his right hand as he went. From there he saw the last soldier on horse back beginning to charge in his direction while the collector was running for the horses still tied up. Obed paused a second to weigh up the spear in his hand before he ran a few steps and launched it at the collector, with exceeding velocity it pierced the man between his shoulder blades and lodged deep into his rib cage, he fell face first into the dust. Obed then turned his attention upon the rider who was almost upon him, then waited for the last moment before he crouched down, the rider only just missing his head with his sword as Obed swung the axe at the horse, catching the lower right hind leg, cutting it off, such was the force he delivered. The horse buckled, then rolled on to its rider as it crashed to the ground with great force, whining in agony as it went. Obed walked slowly up to its position, seeing the head of the soldier poking out from under the horse, he was only a boy, probably a few years younger than Obed.
“Please, mercy” he screamed.
Obed lifted the axe up high above his head and brought the blunt end down upon the soldiers head…once, twice, three times…
................
Athaliah came to her senses and looked around the blood filled room, seeing the bodies of the soldiers, “What has he done, this will be the death of us all” she exclaimed.
Belteshazar finally got to his feet then bellowed “Silence woman”, and then said in a low stern voice, “His beast is unleashed, Allah be praised”. He then staggered to the door way and saw Obed repeatedly smashing his axe into what was left of the soldiers head and upper torso, while the horse squirmed in pain.
“Meshach, Meshach, stop it, stop it now…MESHACH!” (For he called Obed after his own son).
With his blood vessels popping from every muscle in his body, dripping in sweat and drenched in blood, Obed turned to the old man and firmly said in a coarse tone “My name is Obed”. He slowly turned and brought the axe down upon the horse’s head extinguishing its agony.
