by Zoha Kazemi
Perhaps if it wasn’t for the things that Mart had said about Lealy, Tirad’s desire for her would have become more tempting. Lealy didn’t know much about her past; she was only four when she was brought to the Saviour Ship. Mart had said that she knew an old woman in Oxan that had a brothel. Lealy was one of the whore’s babies, her mother had died at childbirth and the old woman had taken her in, maybe to raise the chubby baby as another whore. But the old woman had died and all the women of her house had been thrown out. Khunas had taken the little girl and brought her to the Saviour Ship. Tirad never knew which parts of Mart’s story was believable. Mart was himself one of the children born in the brothel, from a whore and probably a fisher, diver, salesman or a boatman. Everyone knows that Mart was raised in the whorehouse. He has no shame talking about it as this proves that he was born on land, not on the ships. He claims that he had seen Lealy there in the brothel when they were children. What doesn’t add up is the timeline of his story. Lealy is at least three years older than Mart and if what Mart claims had happened, he must have been a baby at that time and wouldn’t be able to remember it.
Whether Mart’s story is a lie or is not, it has clouded Tirad’s mind. Tirad had thought about leaving the Saviour Ship: to start a family and live an ordinary life filled with love and pleasure for the rest of his life. Most of the disciples would often think and dream about the different lives they could have. Some like Hurmaz had even tried it; they had gone and come back to their disciple lives. But any time Tirad imagines his life outside of the Saviour Ship, Lealy is not a part of it. Leaving the ship for good doesn’t seem impossible to him but leaving it for the sake of Lealy, surely does. Maybe he was never truly in love her. Mart’s story wouldn’t affect him if he was really in love. Or maybe he clings to the ambiguous story just to keep his distance from her and to avoid her temptations. He is not sure what he would gain by giving into his desires. But he is afraid of losing too much and even hating himself and Lealy for it. Should he ever risk all his achievement, life and career for a woman, it better be out of a love that would deafen and blind him so that he could give up being a disciple without having second thoughts. Like the love Hurmaz had experiences and had only spoken about it to Tirad.
Hurmaz was a smart, young man and had proved himself as one of the brightest students in the ship. He was the first of his peers to become a third-tier disciple. But the same intelligence and curiosity had taken the best of him. He had fallen in love with one of the girls in the island, the daughter of one of the harbour guards. They would secretly meet at midnight on the beach outside the Island walls. Everyone had found out about them specially the girl’s father who was in charge of guarding the wall at night and had seen the lovers together on the beach. Hurmaz had no other choice. His heart didn’t belong to the Saviour ways anymore since he had given it to a girl. They had escaped the Island to one of the nearby ships with the strange name of Parsana that provided sanctuary for fugitive disciples. He had then moved from Parsana to another ship. He had told Tirad that he was happy at the time and life had seemed beautiful and peaceful to him. He had distanced himself from anything related to the Saviour Ship and lived a joyful life. Even when he had heard that the Saviour missioners were killed on the ships by pre-rain religionists, he hadn’t cared. Instead, he had shown more love to his wife. When the news came that pre-rain religionists had attacked the Oxan ships, he was reluctant to know what had happened next. Rather he had made love with his wife. And even when he had heard that the First Disciple was murdered in his cabin by religionist assassins, he was be happy for the birth of his second child. But this ignorance only lasted until the outbreak of war. The missioners and disciples were not the only targets of Atlan soldiers anymore. The disciples’ weakness had made the Atlan warriors more ambitious. They wanted to bring Oxan to its knees. The attack on the ships had extended. No one was safe anymore and this time, Hurmaz couldn’t turn a blind eye and hide himself in the comfort zone of his family. Everyone was in danger, specially the women and children – his own wife and daughters.
Before the Atlan soldiers had reached their ship, the women and children had taken the boats and fled to the borders. This time, Hurmaz had stayed behind. He had kissed his wife and said goodbye to his daughter and baby. The boats were to come back after the defeat of Atlan soldiers. The enemy was defeated, but some of the boats never came back. Three boats had fallen into the hands of the Atlan soldiers and no one was left alive. Hurmaz had lost everything, his past, present and the future. He had given up his disciple life for his family and now he had lost them both. He hadn’t grieved for he had a little time to make things right again. He couldn’t bring back his family and couldn’t bear the life on the ship without them. Yet one thing he could do was to revive his past life on the Saviour Ship. He needed the Saviour Ship to win the war. It was obvious what the Atlan soldiers were about to do, their attack plan was simple: to debilitate the Oxan ships, take over the Saviour Ship and then invade the Oxan Island. Hurmaz had to stop them before they could bring down the Saviour Island. He had returned to the abandoned ship. The disciples and the maids had fled, plundering most of the coins and valuables and the rest was taken by Island residents that had escaped for their lives. Hurmaz had to ask Parsana for their help.
Before the Atlan soldiers arrived, the men and women of Parsana had deployed in the Saviour Island. As soon as the soldiers set foot on land, the soldiers of Parsana and the Saviour burnt their boats and started fighting. The unknown atmosphere of the island and the firm, motionless ground – too different from the ships and boats – had taken the soldiers unawares. Their boats were on fire and they had no way back. The heavy defeat of the Atlan soldiers kept them away from Oxan for some years. The residents of the Saviour Island had forgotten all about Hurmaz’s abandonment of the Saviour Ship. All they needed was a new ruler who could end the war, even if there was no victory. And Hurmaz had done this for them. Soon after, the disciples had returned and to prove their loyalty, they had returned all the plundered coins. Hurmaz was appointed as the First Disciple. But after settling things down in the Saviour Ship, he had spent some time in Oxan. He had a detailed plan to use Saviour’s wealth for the safety of the whole Oxan region. First of all, he had organised an army of soldiers and guards and had deployed them in different strategic regions. As the Oxan market regained its strength, more money came in as tax to the Saviour Ship and the army could earn its expenses. Hurmaz never gave up the name ‘Parsana’, the ship that had helped him win the war. He would avoid answering any questions about the defenders who had come to their aid. The chiefs of Parsana knew that as long as Hurmaz lived, the treaty between them would hold.
After two years of preparing the Saviour Army, Hurmaz had gone back to his position as the First Disciple. He had taken Tirad with him to the Saviour Ship. Three years later, the Atlan soldiers, who were plagued by the constant killings of their missionaries by Oxan boatmen and guards, set off for another attack on the Saviour Ship. This time, they didn’t waste their energy on battles with the divers and fishers of the ships. They sailed straight to the Saviour Island. But the Saviour Army attacked them on their way. A few remaining boats of Atlan warriors had set foot on the Island, starting a battle that lasted a whole day. The same battle remembered by Tirad, the horrifying night when he had taken refuge in Lealy’s arms for the first time. The Atlan soldiers suffered a great defeat from the new and spirited soldiers of the Saviour Army and the Island residents. Soon after, the Circle sent Hurmaz to sign a peace treaty with Atlan, ending the war for good.
Hurmaz was never sorry for having left the Saviour Ship and starting a family. Although he would never say it out loud, but Tirad feels that he still longs for the happy life he has had away from the Saviour Ship and if he could, he wouldn’t hesitate to go back. Tirad never saw this as an undermining of the Saviour by Hurmaz. He had reviewed Hurmaz’s past in his mind many times and had come to the same conclusion: Hurmaz believed in the Saviour and his Rules othe
rwise he wouldn’t fight for it to the end. He could have given into despair and let the Saviour Ship fall like many others had done. It was not just fate. Hurmaz had chosen and his choices were wise and right. Even his first choice to leave the ship and experience the life on the sea was crucial to his later success. He needed all that to find his true self, recognise his abilities and show his ultimate authority to others until they truly believed in him as their First Disciple and leader. Love, for Hurmaz, was a mean to his greatness. This is the love that Tirad looks forward to. A love that would secure his salvation, not a lustful desire that would vanish after the first sex.
Tirad quietly closes Lealy’s cabin door. He hears a voice from the opposite cabin. He recognises the girl’s voice. She is talking to her mother in a foreign language that he can’t understand. The girl had said her mother was not from Oxan. Tirad had seldom seen people from other regions that spoke different languages. He wants to go in and hear their tongue more clearly, to sit in a corner and draw their faces on a piece of paper. He wished he could sketch their exotic language. He has many questions. All things about these women are a mystery to him. He will have enough time with them in the two days journey to Oxan. The boats bring people together, provide an opportunity to talk, tell tales and recall memories. But his desire is not just to speak with and learn about them. Knowing their life story and becoming acquainted with them doesn’t seem to be enough. He has an unusual desire, wanting to conquer them and own their lives. Even with all the bitter things he has heard about Asin’s life, he prefers to swap his life with hers. His boring and steady life on the Saviour Ship has been nothing but a meaningless mixture of continuous errors, efforts, pardons, competitions, temptations, piety, fear and more fear. Would he give it all up for an adventurous life like Asin’s? He is too scared to think it would be possible. And the same fear, this time of new temptations, drives him away from the strangers’ cabin door and makes him continue his way down the corridor.
Chapter 10
Tirad turns the key in the old lock. The Library door opens with a stretched rusty sound. This is the first time that he is entering the ‘forbidden library’. He always thought that the name was made up by the fourth and third tier disciples, but Hurmaz had used the same wordings that day as he gave him the key. Tirad had read all the books in the common library, but not the ones in this cabin. No one is allowed to come to this library except for the Circle members or with a permit from the First Disciple. It has happened before that the healers needed a book for a special medical case, to be able to diagnose a disease or to find a cure. But none of them were ever able to get in. They had to give the name of the book – probably found in a common books’ sources – and one of the Circle members would get them the information they wanted. Tirad blows on the oil lamp to turn it off and lights his way in with his torch. It is not a large cabin. The bookshelves cover all the walls. A wide table lies in the middle, taking up most of the cabin space. It is covered with large, rolled papers. There is hardly enough room for Tirad to stand by the shelves. He doesn’t know where to start and what to look for. But he might find something in the old manuscripts of the Saviour, some parts that must have been missed when copies were made from them. He had heard about this before but he is not sure if it’s true. But if it is, the omitted parts must be here. The complete and original handwritten Saviour Narratives must be in this room somewhere. He should have asked Hurmaz where they were kept. Now he has to spend the whole night looking for them.
The original narratives are supposed to be three handwritten documents that the first Circle had left behind for them. Hami, Ariad and Parsana were the three people who had found and raised the Saviour. Each of them had written their own narratives giving details of how the Saviour was found, his life story from childhood to adulthood, his Marvels and Rules. These narratives were gathered in a book. They are all mostly the same. In some narratives, some timelines of the events and details are slightly different but the main parts like the Saviour Rules are the same, providing a solid and reliable source. Tirad doesn’t think that the original narratives would be placed amongst the other worn-out, rusty books that even their binds had become faded and unreadable through time. Something of this high worth should be kept in a special place, a decorated box, a leather covering, a special shelf etc. Tirad rolls his torch around the cabin, on every shelf, all the corners and by the table. There is a silver box on the table, covered by the rolled papers. Tirad stretches his hand and brings the box closer. It’s a silver box decorated with turquoise stones and beautiful fine carvings. It is not a big box perhaps 30 centimetres long and 20 centimetres wide with a short height. But it is big enough to hold an eternally valuable book. The choice of silver must have been to keep it away from the two possible dangers of fire and moist that is not uncommon in the ship.
Tirad takes a stool and sits on it in front of the box. He puts his torch close to the box to shine light on it. His hands are shaking and his stomach is soar again. He rolls his fingertips on the carvings and the precious stones and tries to open the box. But there is a small lock on the box door. He thinks the key must be there somewhere. He gets up and searches the table, between the papers and closed and open books that lie around. He looks down on the cabin floor and goes to the shelves again. He looks in the gap between every two book and puts his fingers through the gaps. He stands on his toes and puts his hand on the shelves’ tops that seem vacant. The dust on the shelves makes his hands feel dry and he coughs. All this dust proves that none of the maids had ever step foot in here, not even for cleaning. The dust is so untouched that it seems no one has been here for a very long time. Tirad gets back to the stool, despaired. He coughs again and stares at the box. Of course, such a treasure is locked in a box like this! And whoever locked it wouldn’t leave the key lying around. Hurmaz should have the key, but why didn’t he give it to him? What use is his coming here without having the key to the box that contains the original narratives? He already has a full copy of all the three narratives in his own cabin. Maybe he has to look for something else. If his answer were in the box, Hurmaz would have given him the key.
He sees a dusty nail under a piece of paper on the table. He blows away the dust from the nail and starts picking the lock with it. But the nail tip is larger than the lock hole. He takes the box in his arms so he can concentrate and see the lock hole more clearly. His dusty balm is sweating and the nail slides down from his slippery hand to the floor. He puts the box on the table again and turns his torch towards the floor. The nail has fallen in the gaps of the wooden planks. He tries to take the nail out but his fingernails are short and he can’t pick it up. He sighs and puts the torch light on the table again. He should search the books and papers more closely and if he didn’t find anything, he shall ask Hurmaz in the morning to give him the key to the box. Although it seems improbable to find anything related to the mysterious deaths of the pregnant women in between the books written three hundred years ago. He should start by the books that had been written after the Great Fog. But there are no other books than the Saviour Narratives, and even if such books had been written, he has never heard of them.
He has to understand how the books are ordered on the shelves. But three walls of book shelves without any marks or numberings makes it seem impossible. These are the books that were saved from the great Book Burning and have been placed in these shelves for all these years while no one had been allowed to read them. Tirad knows that he isn’t allowed to read them either. He hasn’t come here for leisure or curiosity. He is just looking for a clue about the deaths of the pregnant women. But if any pre-rain religious books had survived the great Book Burning, he would have liked to go through them. There are coverless booklets on the shelves that seem to be manuals for items and objects that are not used anymore after the Great Fog. Those manuals that are deemed as useful are kept in the common library. Like the manuals for creating coils, batteries, medicine etc. This cabin is mostly filled with pre-rain fiction book
s; fictions that had been found harmful or irrelevant from the start or those that were later on exiled to this cabin. All the fiction books that were once in the common library are now here and Tirad had been one of the main causes of the transfers.
He was young and full of curiosity. Nothing like stories could recreate the lives of the pre-rain people in his imagination. Whenever he read a book, his mind would fill with so many questions about their ways of living, culture and customs and he would go to his Masters asking them about it. Their reactions were always the same. First, they would ask him where he had got these ideas and questions from. And then, they would confiscate the book and send it to the forbidden library. Fiction was harmful. It would put useless questions in one’s head that no one had answers to. It would give rise to false emotions in the reader’s heart, the kinds of feelings that had to be oppressed and denied. But most of all, it gave way to fantasy and imagination. A Saviour Disciple needed no uncontrollable fantasy, to roam about in the imagined world of people who had distanced themselves from nature and were destroyed by it. But young Tirad was too naïve to understand how harmful those stories were to him. He would drown himself in the harsh and dry environment of the peculiar pre-rain atmospheres. He would put himself in place of the characters and try to see the world through their perspectives, to feel as they felt and to think as they thought. He would even try to imitate their walking, sitting and eating habits. He would use in his sentences the pre-rain paraphrases that had no meaning anymore. He would imagine the Saviour Ship as a dense jungle or a crowded city full of buildings and roads, sometimes with restaurants, cinemas, shopping centres, bars and cafes and forbidden pre-rain religion places like mosques, churches and temples. But the closest he could get was to imagine them as being like the Oxan motels or the guest houses of Saviour Island where the pilgrims stayed in. Whenever he read a book, he preferred to live in the imaginary places pictured in them. The temptation of reading fiction was far greater than wanting to sleep with a woman; even though he had never experienced having sex but he knew reading gave him greater pleasure. He is happy now that Hurmaz and his other Masters had rightfully guided him out of such destructive thoughts and desires. The virtuous disciples should only focus on one thing: The Saviour Rules. And in the Saviour Rules, there is no place for the imaginary world of the damned pre-rain men. What puzzles him is that why weren’t these books burnt in the great Book Burning, among the religious book? When Hurmaz became the first disciple, he had banned the Book Burning altogether. Even after the Circle and disciples had reminded him that Book Burning was one of the main Saviour customs carried out by the Saviour himself, he still resisted. He didn’t allow the symbolic event to be held not even by burning a single book. He had said that books were the only source they had to learn about the past people and their mistakes. Someday, they might come of use. But since he also believed they were not appropriate for common people and even the students and disciples – causing them anxiety and stress – he had sent them all out to the forbidden library. What Tirad had heard about the great Book Burning was horrendous. Although he had read about them in the Narratives, but the sayings were more magnificent. For example, some said that the books were too great in number that their flames were seen in the whole Oxan area marking the territory. Any ship that could see the lights of the flames was considered as an Oxan ship and the Ship residents fascinated by this huge fire had gladly joined Oxan as their territory. The whole ten stories of the Saviour Ship were filled with books and now only two cabins of them remains. The Book Burning legend may have been true for the number of burnt books was indeed too many. The pre-rain people had thought to leave behind all their memories and ways of life for the next generations, unawares that the leftovers had no respect, understanding or value for their useless inheritance and believe them to be harmful to their minds.