Rain Born

by Zoha Kazemi

  “Tie him tightly… He shouldn’t escape now, we will take him with us where ever we go and we have to make sure he doesn’t speak out of his place,” Tirad says to Narivan. The boatman laughs again and with a kick from Tirad to his mouth, his teeth fall out bleeding. Tirad wants to beat him more but he feels Dalia’s soft hands on his shoulder. He is distracted and doesn’t pay attention to the boatman’s loosened ropes; turns towards Dalia whose hand is still on Tirad’s shoulder but her frightened eyes are fixed on Oxan. Tirad shockingly looks at the same view. All four passengers of the boat stare horrified at the two-finger joints line on the horizon – the Oxan cone’s tail – that is burning brightly in the darkness of the night.

  The floating refugee harbour is on fire. A thick smoke rises from the flames of the burning wooden and plastic rags and mixes with the humid air making a dark cloud above the Oxan Island. Tirad feels that the moist breeze of the sea fills his nose with the smoke and the stench of roasted flesh of the bodies burning in agony. He feels he can hear their shouting, screaming and crying for help, as they burn alive, although it is not possible to hear them from here. But his senses seem to have sharpened. He can see the shadow of the old refugee woman unwilling to let go of her dead grandchild baby, choked to death in the smoke.

  The refugee harbour is burning in a fire that Tirad doesn’t know how it was ignited. The iron gates and stonewalls of the island will not let the flames get in to the land. The wooden patches, plastic floatables and ragged sailcloths are in bright flames, the women and children are suffocating and burning or throwing themselves into the water. Oxan has torched them alive ruthlessly; they probably wouldn’t save them from drowning. Pieces of burnt wood and molten plastic fall around hitting the heads of the children who try treading the water and swim away from the deadly incident. A couple of boats sail from the main docks to the flaming refugee harbour, but they can’t get close. They must have sailed to collect the women and children from the sea surface. And then what? Would Oxan let them in or throw them back into the water or the flames? The Oxan and Saviour negotiations with the refugees has ended before getting started, so easy and quick and without any need for planning, scheduling and with no cost! Starting a fire on the harbour was not too difficult, finding someone to take the fall for it was and who better than Tirad to take the blame? They would say he had set the harbour on fire, stolen the coins and a boat and fled. Dalia had told the truth and the incident had unravelled.

  “Did you know?” Tirad shouts, turning towards the boatman. But he is not there! Narivan sees him swimming away from the boat. He must have finally untied his hands and feet and escaped while they were shockingly watching the fire. He is going towards the burning flames. Tirad looks around to where he had put his bag and coins. The boatman didn’t have the time to take them with him. But he doesn’t know whether the boatman had taken the five hundred coins of the advanced payment with him or not. They will need the coins to buy food and fuel. He knows very well that he has lost this round to Mart. He can’t go back to Oxan and he can’t get to the Saviour Island with this amount of fuel. The horrific assassination of the Saviour Ship will probably happen very soon, before Tirad can get his hands on enough fuel to sail there. Everything had played out to Mart’s favour so far. They have no other way to go now. Narivan sits behind the wheel and turns on the engine upon Tirad’s command. Dalia is still staring at the flaming horizon. The fire has devoured whatever it could find on the surface, from wood, fabric, flesh and skin. It can find no more and is slowly dying out. It will be the sea’s turn, taking its share from the fire. The sea will engorge the flames first and then the bodies of the burned and drowned. The land is next in the line, embracing the swollen corpses on its shores the morning after.

  Tirad goes to Dalia. He doesn’t know whether to thank her or not. She had saved his life with the help of her family friend. If it wasn’t for them, Tirad wouldn’t have lived to see the fire kindled by Mart. Dalia’s face is wet. Tirad thinks that she must have soaked her head as usual. But she can hardly breathe. She is sobbing. Tirad asks if she was upset for the refugees. She nods. Tirad promises her to take their revenge. Dalia nods again and more tears roll down her eyes. Tirad repeats his promise even though he has no idea how to take revenge. Dalia stops nodding. She takes short quick breaths to stop her sobbing but she can’t. She cries. Tirad puts his hand on Dalia’s shoulder but she wants his arm. He takes her into his arms, embracing her close and stroking her baldhead. She stays close to him until her tears stop rolling down. She distances herself from Tirad and takes a deep breath, preparing for what she wants to say.

  “Healy was on the harbour… Mart had sent her there and ordered her to stay until midnight…” she says and bursts into tears again.

  Chapter 22

  The closest ship to Oxan is the remainders of a naval ship. The huge, rusty naval seems to Tirad like a small island in the middle of the sea. As soon as they had sailed away from Oxan, Tirad had fallen asleep. He had woken up in the middle of the night. The boat was not moving, and Narivan and Dalia were sleep. He wanted to ask Narivan why he had stopped the boat but he was too tired to get up. And now as he has opened his eyes again, the naval is taking up his view in the dim light of the early morning. Dalia is eating a dried fish from the boat’s supplies and she hands him one. Tirad has never eaten raw fish before but he is starving, and his empty stomach will take in anything now. He takes the fish and eats it completely, the bone, the skin and the stiff flesh. He doesn’t even need the knife Dalia hands over to him to tear off the fish. Narivan points to the naval ship. He tells him that there are a number of naval ships near Oxan that are actually black markets selling fuel and contraband goods. Anyone unable to find or buy what they need in Oxan would come here. The prices are higher of course, but they don’t ask why you are buying things and for what purpose. He says the residents don’t fish or dive, they make their living through dealing and smuggling. The ship only has a small platform and one guard is standing on it and they don’t check everything a traveller carries like the Oxan guards do, emptying all the sacks and bags and recording everything. Some people even find it more convenient to pay more coins but to shop directly from the naval instead of entering Oxan.

  Tirad doesn’t understand why Narivan is trying to sound so smart. He doesn’t take his words seriously since he can’t accept such illicit dealings go on without the Saviour’s permission. If such smugglings were so freely done, the Circle would have known about them and stopped it. But Narivan doesn’t strike him as a liar and he can’t undermine his good will and ignore his help. He will soon know if Narivan is right about the naval. What they need for their food, water and fuel would cost about two hundred coins in Oxan. He shall wait and see how much they have to pay now and if the naval would even deal with them without having trade papers. Deep in his heart, he wishes that the naval refuses such a demand to prove to Narivan and Dalia the depths in which the Saviour Rules penetrates. But then again if they don’t buy what they need, they probably wouldn’t survive for long.

  Narivan leads the boat to the naval platform. He tells Tirad not to say anything and that he should hide his Saviour tattoo. If the news of the fire had reached the naval, they might have sent Tirad’s specifications to all the nearby ships. Tirad finds a piece of cloth and covers his tattoo with the help of Dalia. The cloth is not too big and only covers the tattoo area. Dalia believes Tirad should cover both his hands; otherwise, they will know he is hiding his tattoo and will get suspicious. Narivan comes to his help and gives his turban to Tirad, spiralling it around his tattooed arm then unties his waist shawl and twists it around Tirad’s other arm.

  Tirad is not happy to do this, but Narivan is probably right again. He never thought his sacred Saviour tattoo could put him in trouble. He always thought of it as a symbol of greatness and respect, arising jealousy in the sea people. But he has been forced to cover it now, out of their fear. In his heart, he wants to prove Narivan wrong, to show his tattoo to th
e guard and let Narivan see how the naval people will treat the third-tier disciple with respect; yet again he can’t deny Narivan’s good will. He should listen to him and be careful.

  A small boat is trying to turn around and leave the naval platform. Narivan gives the leaving boat enough space to turn and then he approaches the ship. He tells Tirad such fast boats are usually couriers bringing in news. He seems scared and hopes that the courier hasn’t delivered the news of Oxan fire and Tirad’s arrest warrant. Tirad says they could go to another naval or a ship and Narivan has to explain to him again that they can’t get far with this amount of fuel. They can only dwell on the sea and stay alive, fishing their food but can’t move the boat. The naval guards have already spotted them and if they don’t dock now, they will be suspicious. Tirad doesn’t argue any further. He hides his wrapped arms behind his body. The boat docks on the naval platform and the guards help by tying the boat rope to the platform rod. They tell Narivan not to step out of the boat. One of the guards jumps on to the boat, making the deck tremble, as he takes heavy steps looking around. He asks who the boatman of this small passenger boat is. Narivan introduces himself. The guard wants him to explain why they are here and what they want.

  “We come from northern ships. We are going to the Saviour Island taking alms gathered from the ship people. But we have run out of fuel…” Narivan says to the guard. The guard wants to see their documents, their coins and the alms. Narivan points to Dalia. She brings the coins and takes out two hundred coins declaring them as the alms. She then gives the other three hundred coins to the guard for the fuel.

  “Why didn’t you go to Oxan for the fuel?” the guard asks taking the coins. Dalia shows her clear arm to him.

  “We were going to get out tattoos in the Saviour Island. Missioners don’t come to our ships. That’s why we collected alms and want to go to the Saviour Ship, asking them to send a missioner. We couldn’t get in to Oxan without tattoos,” Dalia explains. The guard looks at her in a strange way. He then turns to Tirad.

  “What about you? Are you a diver or a fisher?” he asks. Tirad doesn’t know what to say. Even if he says he is a diver or a fisher, his long hair and beard would give him up. He unwraps Narivan’s turban from his arm, feeling the worried stares of Dalia and Narivan fixed on him. But he needs to tell a better lie. He shows the guard his Saviour tattoo and takes out his personal mission paper from his bag. He hands the guard the reports of the dead pregnant women. Even though he preferred his Saviour tattoo had saved him from giving any explanations, but things are different here.

  “I had a personal mission to investigate these deaths on the northern ships and when I reached the Avij Ship, I realised no missioner had been there for a long time. I encouraged them to collect alms and send their representatives to the Saviour Ship with me to pay their respects,” Tirad explains. The guard nods his head and seems to have accepted Tirad’s words. He walks towards Tirad respectfully, shakes his hand and speaks in a sorry tone.

  “Please accept my condolences,” he says. Tirad looks at him surprised. The guard understands he hasn’t heard the news yet.

  “A courier just arrived from the Saviour Island… I am so sorry to say that the First Disciple has passed away. We have to spread the news. The parting ceremony takes place in five or six days’ time. All the ship chiefs are invited,” he continues. Tirad falls on his knees. Dalia moves towards him but Narivan gives her a gesture, reminding her not to touch Tirad. The boat, the naval and the waves seem to be circling around Tirad’s head in a cloud of smoke and fire. He couldn’t save Hurmaz’s life. The news had come precisely as Mart had planned. Tirad has lost, completely broken, with nowhere to go. They have killed Hurmaz and he hadn’t done anything to prevent it. He had been wandering about on the sea trying to get back while he should have never left Hurmaz in the first place. He can’t take it in… The horrific news and the raw fish he had eaten an hour ago seem indigestible. He drags himself to the gunwale and throws up into the sea. Dalia comes to him, cleaning his face with a wet cloth. She gives him some water and helps him sit on the deck, stretching out his legs.

  “It’s my fault… I was too late… too late…” he says to Dalia and tears roll down his eyes sinking into his brown beard. Dalia doesn’t say anything. She wants to take him in her arms but knows too well not to touch a celibate third tier disciple in front of the guard and the men who are embarking fuel tanks, water and food buckles on the boat deck. Tirad repeats the names of the two people he has lost… Hurmaz and Lealy… He doesn’t know which one to mourn for and he blames himself for both their deaths. He hadn’t seen their passing and hadn’t said goodbye. How did they die? Did Lealy suffocate in the smoke or burnt in flames? Did she fall into the water? Perhaps she was trapped under water or hit by some sharp burning object thrown out of the torn apart slums. What about Hurmaz? They wouldn’t spill blood. They probably poisoned him or choked him in his sleep making it look like a normal death not an assassination. But who could do such a thing? Who else was involved except for Mart? Who was the other older voice that Dalia had heard? How could they disobey the Saviour Rules on the Saviour Ship? He has to go back and find Hurmaz’s killer and take his revenge, whatever the cost.

  Narivan escorts the guard and the men who have finished their work and are about to leave the boat. He wants Tirad to come and say goodbye. Tirad gets up and walks towards them; he can hardly feel his legs. The guard and the two men are still on the boat deck and they whisper something to each other. Tirad hears Mart’s name between their words. He focuses on their murmurs. One of them says to the other in a lowered voice, “If he had come from Mart, he would say so himself.”

  The other man replies to him, “Maybe he is afraid to ask…or not sure…but Mart said he would come today.” Tirad is curious but doesn’t know how to play along and find out about Mart and his arrangement. Yet he wants to find out what’s going on and see what business Mart has with these men. He is so tired of figuring out Mart’s agendas. The three men finally decide to speak up.

  “Are you an acquaintance of Master Mart?” one of them asks.

  “Yes, I am,” Tirad replies. The guard whispers in the men’s ears, as if he doesn’t want them to continue.

  But one of them says to him, “If he is the one and we don’t cooperate, you know what Mart would do to us… Mart said he will come in disguise and will try to keep his appearances.” Tirad feels threatened. What if Mart had given them his descriptions before the fire and told them to arrest him whenever he got there? But they didn’t even ask his name. Mart would not give any hints about his plans specially the Oxan fire.

  “There is a parcel that needs to be taken to Master Mart. He said a missioner from north would pick it up today. We were wondering if you are the missioner,” the same man says. Tirad sighs. He doesn’t know whether to go along with them and find out about this parcel or leave it alone. The parcel could say a lot about Mart. But what if they need something from him in return, coins or documents? He can never understand why Mart does so many complicated things.

  “I was going to bring it up… But the death news of the First Disciple drowned me with sorrow… I got distracted. Master Mart is waiting for the parcel,” Tirad says hesitantly. The men stare at his bag, probably waiting for him to show them a document. Tirad searches his bag, pretending to look for a letter; he takes out a few pages and looks between his papers and reports. He then turns to the men regrettably saying that he must have lost the paper. He knows this lie doesn’t hold. He just hopes that they were waiting for a paper not anything else. The three men start talking to each other again, deciding whether to give him the parcel without the paper or not. Tirad is relieved that he had told the right lie; they were waiting for him to show a documented paper.

  “Please wait… We need to ask one more person…since you don’t have the papers…” the guard says very politely. Tirad nods. Narivan and Dalia are looking at him horridly and with anger. Of course, they can’t understand why he i
s playing along like this. But he needs proof of Mart’s unusual businesses and hidden agendas and now he has a chance. The two men say goodbye and leave the boat, walking towards the naval ladder. Another fast boat approaches the platform.

  “I doubt you could get your tattoo in the Saviour Island now since they are mourning,” the guard says to Dalia, as he jumps to the platform to help the fast boat dock. Narivan goes to Tirad and anxiously points at the new boat that is tying its rope to the platform.

  “This might be the courier from Oxan with the news about the fire and your arrest warrant… We should leave now!” Narivan says in Tirad’s ears. Tirad understands his worry but he has to see what Mart’s parcel is all about. The courier boat doesn’t have any passengers, just the boatman. Obviously, it is not coming from any place far and it’s not travelling to far distances. The boatman gets off his courier boat, stares at Tirad and the two other passengers and whispers in the guard’s ears. He then climbs the ladder up the naval. As soon as the boatman reaches the top of the ladder, another man climbs down with a sack. The sack is obviously filled with coins and too heavy for the man who has to lay it on his shoulder as he climbs down. Comparing to the sack Tirad had taken from Mart’s room, this sack should have more than one thousand coins in it. But why did Mart want all that coin? To what do they owe him so much money? The guard won’t probably say anything but the man carrying the sack might say so. When he gets down the ladder, the guard tells him something. He loosens his step and his face becomes pale. He seems scared and relieved at the same time for he was to do something very stupid. Tirad feels sorry for them, being Mart’s playthings. He doesn’t know what Mart had blackmailed them for to get so many coins in return.