Photo By Kenny Blasco
To Warm Their Fellows In the Night
by Jeff Baker
It was cold, the kind of cold where even the slightest breeze increases the chill. Tarlos pulled his cloak tighter around him, grateful for his warm boots and that the walk to the Horse Barn from the house was not far. He glanced up at the sky; he could see one of the three moons through the clouds.
He smiled. It had only been a few years since his Father had trusted him, the youngest, to do tasks like this by himself. His older brother would have supervised him, especially at night. But he was just three years away from the Age of Ascension.
Tarlos smiled as he fumbled with the lock and went inside.
Inside, away from the door, the horse barn was relatively warm. He stared in the near darkness then pulled out the light sphere from his pocket. It was small, and with only one moon in the sky it would not give off much light. But it was enough for Tarlos to see the horses, beyond the low wooden gate, standing close together beneath their blankets.
Your blankets are probably warmer than my cloak, Tarlos thought to himself. But as his father pointed out; they had a house with ovens, a fireplace and warming plates.
One of the horses looked up as Tarlos walked closer, checking the food and water. The rest of the horses didn’t seem to care.
After a few more moments, Tarlos checked the little gate and went back outside, being sure to latch the door to the Horse Barn behind him. He approached the back of the old farmhouse which offered protection from the blowing winds coming from that direction.
“The horses are secure, Father,” Tarlos said with a slight bow as he walked into the living room where his father was studying a scroll from a soft chair by the fireplace. The room was warm, wonderfully warm.
“I checked their water, they had plenty of it.” Tarlos said.
“And it wasn’t frozen?” Taroc, his father asked.
“No, not at all,” Tarlos said. There was a low-heat warming plate under the horse’s trough. “And they have plenty of hay and straw.”
“Good,” Taroc said, eyeing his son. He was becoming so mature.
“The barn is secure,” Tarlos said. “None of the horses can wander off. Not that they would want to on a cold night like this. And I counted them just to be certain, but…”
“What?” Taroc asked.
“Have you borrowed a horse or two for some purpose?” Tarlos asked. It was not too unusual during planting season for farmers to loan out a horse to help a neighbor pull a plow but this was not planting season. “I counted eight, and I thought we had only six. I know I have only started doing this and I am away all day at school but…”
“Eight horses?” Taroc asked, staring at his son and setting the scroll down. “You’re sure you counted eight?”
“Yes,” Tarlos said. “I counted three times in case I had been mistaken in the dark.”
“Eight,” Taroc said softly almost to himself. “That’s two more than six…”
“I know that, but…” Tarlos started to say but his father interrupted him.
“Come with me, quickly,” Taroc said walking to the back room of the house barely pausing to grab his own cloak. Tarlos followed, putting on his cloak as they strode through the yard toward the barn as a breeze was whipping up.
Taroc paused at the barn door, putting a finger to his lips indicating quiet. He cautiously opened the barn door and entered, Tarlos right behind him. Taroc pulled out his light sphere and looked around. He counted the horses who paid little attention to him.
“Six,” he said. “There are six.” He turned the light sphere off.
“Father, I was sure that I…” Tarlos said. But his father was not listening.
“Zavid and Zannic,” Taroc breathed to the open air. He turned around to face his son, his own face showing awe. “You have seen a rare and wondrous thing tonight. Come back to the house.”
Seated in the living room, small cups of broth at the ready Taroc explained.
“You know the legend of Zavid and Zannic?” Taroc began.
“The patrons of slaves and horses?” Tarlos said. “Everybody does. It’s just a bedtime story from the ancient days, isn’t it?”
“More than that,” Taroc said. “Zavid and Zannic were slaves who cared for their master’s horses. They loved each other but their masters were going to separate them. The Horse Lords took pity on the two young men and transformed them into horses who would always run free together. They are supposedly seen running on summer nights when the three moons are full and they are said to appear in horse barns to warm their fellows in the cold winter night.” Taroc looked at his son. “This night you saw them, and I think I know why.”
Taroc took a deep breath.
“You know your Mother died around the time you were born.”
“I know,” Tarlos said. “Giving birth to me.”
Taroc shook his head. “No. Giving birth to our second son who died an hour later. It was the harvest season and one of the slaves I had engaged to help came to me with his newborn son. He told me that he believed I was a good man and he did not want his son to grow up marked with slave tattoos to labor in the fields all his life, even for good men.”
Tarlos stared at his father, his mouth open.
“He had named his son, Zabar,” Taroc said. “A slave name. But I took him as my own and renamed him after my grandfather, Tarlos.”
Tarlos sat there speechless. Finally he was able to breathe out “Does anybody else know?”
“No,” Taroc said. “Your oldest brother was boarded at school, too young then to help with the harvest. “Zamas, your…father and I buried your infant brother behind the barn beneath the flowers your Mother loved.” Taroc took a deep breath. “We said prayers to Zavid and Zannic that night. As we finished, all three moons came out from behind the clouds.” Taroc looked at his son and smiled. “And you have been my son since that day. And I am proud of the man, the free man you are becoming.”
“Thank you, Father,” Tarlos managed to say.
“Slavery is an evil,” Taroc said. “Someday we will be able to do something about it and all men will be free. My Grandfather Tarlos always said that. Until then we must treat people decently, slave or free.”
“Yes, Sir,” Tarlos said, suddenly feeling older beyond even the Age of Ascension.
“Maybe that is why Zavid and Zannic appeared to you tonight,” Taroc said. “Or maybe they were just warming the horses.”
The two men smiled and finished their broth. Outside a moon peeked out from the clouds and the horses snorted in the barn.
—end—
AUTHOR’S NOTE: Eight Years! Wow!
It was eight years ago, May 25th, 2016 that I wrote one flash fiction story for Monday Flash Fics and wrote another the following week just to see if I could do it. Now, eight years and three-hundred-and-eighty-some stories later, most for the Friday Flash Fics Facebook Group and the Monthly Flash Fiction Draw Challenge and others I have pulled off writing at least fifty-two stories a year. (Not counting a few longer stories I manage to write!)
All this has made me a better writer and taught me the discipline I didn’t learn in school. (My fault, not theirs!) In addition It’s gotten me a few writing gigs as well as a lot of writer friends and even a few followers for this blog. And some of the characters who first popped up here have had adventures published elsewhere!
I owe a lot of thanks to Helena Stone, ‘Nathan Smith, Brigham Vaughn, Kelly Jensen, Elizabeth Lister and others too numerous to mention for their encouragement in maintaining these prompt sites. Again, many thanks!
Many of my readers liked my story “Wild Horses,” which appeared here February 27, 2017 https://authorjeffbaker.com/2017/02/19/monday-flash-fics-february-20-2017-wild-horses/ It takes place on my “World Of Three Moons,” a world I originally conceived for a Lovecraftian adventure-quasi-Arabian-Nights-type story I need to finish from about twelve years ago. The world with it’s weird entities behind the scenes was settled by Middle Eastern and European sorcerers who fled Earth and persecution in the Middle Ages as well as Earth colonists who arrived via spaceship thousands of years in our future. So, there’s a blend of magic and sci-fi (or science-fantasy) and a Medieval Europe/Arabian-Nights feel to it.
So when it came time to do an anniversary story I decided to build on a reference in “Wild Horses.” It’s one of the longest stories I’ve done for a supposed “Flash Fiction” series, but I had fun doing it!
Zavid and Zannic get referenced in more of my stories, and I assure you the issue of slavery will be touched on at some point in this series.
For now, I say “Thank You” to everyone who has read my stories and a special thanks to anybody who let me know they enjoyed them. It usually made my day!
As they used to say on the old Tonight Show: “More To Come.”
And with this, I am going to have to take a break from posting these weekly stories. I have to go way out of town for a couple of weeks and I may not be back online at this keyboard until the middle of June. (I may post some pics, but I’m not sure!) Till then, take care! —-jeff
—–jeff baker, May 23rd, 2024
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