Forbearance

by Brianna M. Hoyle

Chapter 2

There was something ahead of me.

“Do you see it, Darioush?” I asked him in a croak. Leaning against his saddle, I shaded my eyes from the sun to look out across the desert. It was indeed what I desired it to be. A gathering of structures that could only be a city, a city made of clay and brick buildings with dome shaped roofs. It was still a great distance away from, but it was a destination.

“Tell me you see it, Darioush.” I looked to him, watching the way his ears pointed towards the city. It must be there if he could hear it. His hearing was keen, much more so than mine, or that of any human. The material that had draped my shoulders, my keffiyeh, I lifted up to cover my head. Its light coloring was enough to reflect the sun’s rays and protect my skin from the scorch. Then I wrapped it so it covered most of my face except my eyes. My strength was beginning to drain. I had been walking steadily for what felt like an eternity. It was all I could do not to lapse into unconsciousness from lack of water. But I was determined to make it to the destination I now could see if only for Darioush. He must have water.

“Come, Darioush. Perhaps a kind soul shall allow us a drink.”

I pulled him toward the city, determining simply to make it the next step. I focused on putting one foot in front of the other as the fatigue from undernourishment and the penetrating heat took its toll on me. Darioush held up well, though his exhaustion did not show so easily on him as it did for me.

“We can make it… we can make it…” I reminded him, though the way he turned his eyes to me, I knew what he was saying.

I know we can. You only must keep going so that we may.

I lowered my head and closed my eyes as I pushed forward, trying to deny the soreness of every joint in my body. I put out of my mind the sweltering heat, I did not dwell on the pain that was beginning in the bottoms of my feet and spreading upwards. I would not allow this barren wilderness to win this battle. I would win. I would make it. For Darioush.

With each step, a sword stabbed into my heel, each movement another wave of flames that beat down upon my back. I cried out in pain on a few occasions, almost unable to bear the crippling circumstances that weighed me down, but I pressed onward in spite of the heat, in spite of the pain, and in spite of the seemingly hopeless journey ahead of me.

Somehow, someway, through sheer determination and willpower alone, I made it. I stumbled onto the main road, clutching tightly to Darioush’s lead rope, the only thing keeping me upright. My vision was flashing, but I knew I had made it when my shoes touched hard cobblestone and not gritty sand. I heard Darioush’s hooves tap on the stone behind me. And now that we had made it, we must find water.

Lifting my head, I looked around, attempting to make sense of the shapes that moved around me. People were in the city. Many people. Their garments were colorful and flowed behind them. Animals, also. Camels and horses and goats. They moved around me and in front of me, paying no attention to their newest visitor. I knew water must be near the entrance to this city.

Still holding Darioush’s reins, I continued walking, letting my eyes roam the area before me until at last I came upon a water hole. It was a circular pool with several animals standing near it, drinking their fill. It was deep enough to have come up to my waist, should I stand in it, and desperately I desired to. But I would not think of me. Firstly came Darioush.

“Come, there is water.” I led him to the pool and watched as he inclined his neck and let his lips touch the cool water. It was soothing to him, and seeing him happy, I was content as I gently combed my fingers through his mane. I had successfully brought him to water. The world around me seemed unimportant. I did not care for my own health or anyone else’s. Darioush, my beloved horse, had water, and for that I was gratefully. My vision began to blacken as my conscious began to slip away. My forbearance had faltered now that my horse was cared for. My knees nearly buckled beneath me and I would have collapsed, yet a strong arm wrapped itself around me and held me up.

“Here, friend. You look as though you could use a drink yourself.”

The voice startled me, though many voices were chattering around me. My sense of perception was tossed askew by fatigue. My hand, almost of its own accord, fell to the hilt of my saber as I turned to face the one who spoke and most likely the one who held me.

“Relax, stranger.” The owner of the voice was a man, many years my senior. He was not frightened of me, though I had reached for my sword. I learned later that he was calm because I looked far too exhausted to have attempted crossing blades with him, had I needed to. “Here. Your horse is watered, now you drink.”

He was offering to me a waterskin. I had no reason not to trust him, and I took the skin gratefully.

“I admire a man who cares for his animal first,” he said.

I removed the material that covered my face and lifted the water skin to my mouth, pouring the sweet liquid between my lips and letting it coat my parched tongue. For a moment I felt nothing but pure bliss as the water awakened my taste buds and invigorated my mind. I gently trickled the water into my mouth a little at a time, knowing that I could not overwhelm myself lest I pass out once more. I savored the water and felt my mind begin to clear, this sense of being alive spreading from my throat down throughout my entire system. My legs did not feel as sore, my hands did not burn, and my neck was not as locked and cramped from spending so long staring at the ground in front of my feet. My weakness alleviated. Yes, I still was tired, but no longer only half-conscious. My vision was clear now.

I heard Darioush drinking beside me and I lowered the water skin, smiling at my horse. “Darioush and I are grateful for your generosity.” I addressed the kind man who owned the water skin when I said this, though my eyes remained on my horse. I turned to him to offer him back his water, feeling alive, awake, and far better than I could possibly feel, only to be greeted by the most peculiar look on his face.

He was staring at me, looking as though I had just spoken in another language. And with that in mind, I knew that the language he spoke, though I understood it, was not the language in my head. It seemed I knew two languages, though I could not say the name of either. Had I spoken the language in my head instead of the language he understood? I repeated myself, offering again the waterskin as I expressed my gratitude, and he seemed to snap out of whatever brief daze had come over him.

“It was my pleasure,” he said as he took his waterskin back, though he sounded uncertain. “Where do you come from, stranger? The closest city is quite a distance for someone traveling without water.”

I turned to Darioush and rested my hand on his coat. “I do not know,” I told him, my eyes on Darioush.

“What is your name?”

I was silent for a time, then my gaze fell to the cobblestone. “That, I know not, either.”

When I looked up at him, his eyes no longer held confusion, but pity. This expression suited him well, for he was of the age to be a father. The grayness of his beard that age could not have granted him, the muscles in his hands from working, yet the gentleness in them as he returned his waterskin to the pack his goat carried, the way he let his hand pet the animal’s head before he turned to face me once again… this told of a man who worked hard, yet cared deeply for one who needed protection. He was dressed in robes that were not costly, yet he was dressed well. He must be a father.

“Lost in the desert with only a horse and no water,” he said gently. “No memory of who you are. My friend…”

I was fearful of what he would say next, though I felt I already knew.

“…you were left for dead.”

I stared at him, unable to believe what he told me, that I had for some reason been left to die in the desert. What had I done that would require such a punishment?

“By whom?” I managed to ask.

“I could not tell you anymore than you could tell me,” he said. “Perhaps you shall remember in time. Come. Let us find you a place to rest.”

He took the lead rope for his goat and began walking farther into the city. I had no other place to go. I could choose not to follow him, though that would leave me in a city I knew nothing about. It seemed it was wisest to follow the man. “Come, Darioush,” I said, taking his reins. “We shall trust him.”

I once again covered my face with the white keffiyeh and walked into the city, leading my horse as we followed after the man whose name I did not know. The heat did not seem quite so terrible here in the city, though perhaps that was because I was no longer desiring water be it the last thing I ever had. The structures were all square in design, with rectangular windows that pointed inward toward the streets, and sometimes into the courtyard it was built around. Colorful awnings stretched out from the windows and provided shade for those on the ground. The streets were lined with people and carts and animals.

Everyone was moving and talking and the distinct smell of sweet fruit filled the air around me. I watched the people in the city go about their business, some even pausing to give me and the man I followed a friendly nod. I returned it as oft as I remembered to, for the shift from an empty wilderness to a bustling city took some adjustment. My ears were filled with the buzz of people who crowded the streets, though I never lost sight of my mysterious benefactor. He wore a bright blue headpiece and I myself stood tall amongst the crowd,  which allowed me the ability to follow him though we remained a distance apart on many occasions.

The farther we went into the city, the more intricate the buildings became. Haphazard awnings gave way to neat and embroidered lengths of material stretched neatly out over windows with shutters that would be closed up at night. Simple square shaped buildings became more elaborate in their architecture. Palm trees spread their green leaves out over the streets that were becoming more and more crowded.

“This city is bigger than I thought,” I whispered to Darioush, knowing that he would be able to hear my voice though we were surrounded by noise. More foliage was becoming visible, planted in large pots decorated with many colors. I heard the sound of water flowing before I saw the fountain that looked to be a gathering place for many children. They danced around the fountain, laughing with glee and calling to each other. Young boys held wooden swords and play fought with each other while girls tossed a ball of some kind back and forth to each other. Several of the children paused and waved to the man with the goat.

“Hello, Hakim!” they called out, almost in unison.

“Good afternoon, children! Play nicely!”

I watched the children as they went back to their games and could not help but smile at how carefree they were. It was strange to see and even stranger to consider the possibility that here… here in this place I may find peace.