by Zoha Kazemi
Narivan reaches the steering wheel and shouts, “Rope!” Dalia leaps over and cuts the rope. The guard orders them to stop but Narivan doesn’t hesitate. He turns on the engine and sails fast to the east, the opposite direction of the Saviour Island. Tirad stares at the platform. He knows they will follow them and they do. The guard jumps into the courier boat and tells the man to go with him. The man is not sure what to do with the sack of coins. He hesitates for a moment, puts down the sack and steps towards the boat. He turns back again, taking the sack with him. The boat sails fast getting far from the naval and the courier boat follows. They were lucky to have fled in time, or else there would be surrounded by boats instead of being followed by only one courier.
Chapter 23
Tirad measures the length and the distance of the courier boat with his finger joints. The courier boat is faster than theirs and gets closer, and will reach them in a few minutes. He doesn’t know what to do when it gets to them. Narivan is sailing the boat the fastest he can and Dalia is staring at the courier waiting for the inevitable. Tirad doesn’t understand why Narivan still continues sailing, perhaps he wants to get as far away from the naval as possible or hopes that the small, fast boat would run out of fuel, since they have smaller tanks and use more fuel per minute. But the courier doesn’t seem to be running out of fuel. Tirad can clearly see the guard’s face now, even his black teeth that are pressed together from rage. He shouts to Narivan that they are too close, he should slow down the boat or else the courier might crash into their boat, killing all five of them. Narivan slows down and the courier approaches. The guard throws a rope to the boat coupling. Narivan gives a knife to Dalia and the iron rod to Tirad; it’s the rod the Oxan boatman had used trying to kill him. He takes another knife himself, hiding it in his clothes behind his back. He takes the paddle in his hand and moves towards the guard and the naval man that jump into their boat.
“You!” the guard addresses Tirad.
“You think you can set the harbour on fire and get away with it?” he shouts. Tirad wants to defend himself, to say it wasn’t him and they had set him up. But Narivan gives him a gesture to remain silent. The men approach Tirad. Narivan goes to him as well trying to lead Tirad’s steps backward. All four are standing in the middle of the deck. Dalia sneaks from behind the guard and the man and jumps to the courier boat. Tirad watches her, scared of what she is up to. Perhaps she wants to find Tirad’s warrants and get rid of them, but the boatman would have taken them with him in his arm bag, when he climbed the naval ladder. The guard takes a step towards Tirad and tells him to surrender and go back to the naval with him. Narivan tries to change their position; he slowly moves the paddle towards the guard and the man, pushing them back. He doesn’t want to hit them yet, not until they reach the gunwale. He wants them to gradually turn in a way that their backs lean against the gunwale and Tirad and Narivan stay in the middle. The guard is trying to persuade Tirad to give himself in. He is focusing on his choice of words and does not realise he is turning towards the direction that Narivan leads with his paddle. He reaches the gunwale.
“I was with him before the fire… It’s all nonsense accusations! We won’t go with you anywhere!” Narivan says and with a fast stroke of his paddle, throws the man into the sea. The guard leaps towards him and takes the paddle off his hands, throwing it down. The two men wrestle. Tirad sees the naval man trying to pull himself up the gunwale. He goes to him with the rod in his hand. The man has taken the edge of the gunwale with one hand and tries to climb the slippery surface. Tirad has to stop him. He will not give himself in, not for something he hasn’t done – for Mart’s plans and accusations. The man is careful not to slide back into the sea with his heavy soaked clothes. His hand is shaking. Tirad stands above him and strikes the man’s hand with the rod. The man shouts and holds the gunwale edge with his other hand. This time, Tirad hits him in his head and watches the blood gushing out of it. The man passes out and slips back into the sea, leaving a red trail on the water surface. Tirad feels his knees shaking. He needs to stay strong and put himself together.
Narivan and the guard are still fighting, hitting, kicking and punching one another with angry roars. They make the boat tremble, as they throw each other down and try to get up again. Narivan’s head is also bleeding and so is the guard’s nose. Tirad feels his nose is filled with the stench of blood and he wants to stop the fight. But he feels unable to separate them. He wants to strike again with the blooded rod but he is scared of hitting Narivan instead of the guard since the two are too closely twisted, trying to overcome one another. He suddenly sees the silver shine of the knife blade in the guard’s hand. It is Narivan’s knife that he had hid in his back pocket. Dalia gets to them. But before they can act, the guard pushes the knife into Narivan’s thigh. Narivan shouts and rolls over with pain and lays supine on the deck. It is Dalia’s turn, hitting the guard in his legs with the paddle and throwing him down, waiting for Tirad to finish him off. Tirad has no choice. He lowers the rod again, striking the guard in his head and spilling his blood all over the deck. Dalia helps Tirad to pick up the half-dead body and throw it into the sea. Dalia goes to the courier, cuts off the rope from the coupling and then goes to the boats wheel. She turns on the engine and sails. Tirad knows his share of the chores would be taking care of Narivan. He ties a rope around his wound to stop the bleeding and brings some water to clean it. The boat is sailing too fast and at this speed, he can hardly keep his balance. But he has to wake Narivan up and ask him how to stop the bleeding.
If Lealy was here, she would know what to do, how to stop the bleeding and what ointments to put on the bruises and wounds. Lealy knew how to take away the pains and heal the hearts. She treated all her patients individually, prescribing different treatments for each. She had taken away Tirad’s pain and loneliness with her warm arms, yet he had left her to die in pain. He should have stayed and stopped Mart. If he was there, he wouldn’t let Lealy go to the harbour, or maybe he would. How could he have known? He wishes he had stayed and went to the harbour with her; he preferred that he was a direct victim of the fire having died in the flames with Lealy than becoming known as the villain who had killed so many innocent people – a victim of Mart’s plans. Deep in his heart, he wishes Lealy had survived the fire. She could have thrown herself into the water and picked up by the rescue boats or swam to the main harbour. She was a strong woman, a survivor. He doesn’t know whether he will see her again or not. But he wishes he would. He wants to explain to her that he had nothing to do with the fire. But will she believe him? Or if alive, has she already believed Mart, condemning Tirad for what had happened? He should have told her everything sooner, about the danger that threatened Hurmaz’s life and that he was heading back to him. But she was mad at him and too busy, he didn’t have all that time to bring her around and explain. One day, he will tell her everything.
Narivan opens his eyes and moans. Tirad tells him not to move but he wants to sit. He slightly bends his back to peek at his wounded leg. He tells Tirad there is a first aid kit in every boat and there must be thread, needle and bandage. He has to sew the skin. Tirad walks towards the wheel and tells Dalia about the first aid kit. Dalia slows down the boat and helps him look for the box. They search everywhere and finally find it in a drawer of the boat cabin. But there are no threads and needles in the first aid kit. Even if there was, sewing up Narivan’s deep wound is not something he could put off. He goes to Dalia again. She tells him that they have to get as far as possible from that area and she can’t stop the boat right now. She teaches him how to hold the wheel and sail the boat forward without having to turn or change directions. She tells him how to accelerate and decelerate the boat using the gas pedal. Tirad sits behind the wheel and Dalia goes to help Narivan. It is not too hard to keep the boat going straight ahead, not in this fine weather and calm sea. But he already knows he could never ride a boat in stormy weather and find his direction from the compass panels by the wheel. Maybe it would be e
asier to ride larger boats. The small boats may turn upside down with every fierce wave. He wants to decelerate the speed to stop the feeling that the boat might keel over any minute. But Dalia is right. They should get away from the Oxan Island area and the ships as soon as they can.
Tirad can smell fire and smoke. He is afraid to turn his head and lose control of the boat. But he wants to see where the smell comes from. He used to love the smell of logs burning, for him it associated with the Spawn-Scorching ceremony, a ritual of light and warmth and rebirth after becoming unburdened from all his faults. The Spawn-Scorching fire would gather everyone around, get rid of all the impurities and wrong doings, turning them to ashes and smoke. But now, this smell reminds him of death, pain and agony, the stench of the soft skin of the children burning as they cry for help and the choking of women who are unable to save themselves and their children from the painful death. It is no more the reminder of gatherings, but a sign of division and divorcement. Fire means losing Lealy, blisters on her soft arms, the blushing and peeling of her neck and breasts’ skin and filling her lungs with smoke. Fire means death on a large scale. Losing vast to the scale of the world, screaming as high as the roaring thunders and a profound pain as the deepest waters. And he knows that he will hate such smell forever. Still, he turns his head to see what is going on. Dalia has lit a small fire in a tin buckle and is sitting next to Narivan with a torch in her hand. She doesn’t seem to have the courage to do what she has to. Narivan must have told her to take care of the wound this way. Tirad wants to watch but he can’t take his eyes from the sea, afraid of losing the boat’s balance. Yet he doesn’t want to miss what’s going on the deck. He has one eye to the front and one eye to the deck. Dalia takes the torch to Narivan’s thigh and burns the deep wound. Narivan screams with fear. Tirad jumps from his loud cry, loses the wheel for an instance. But he has to calm himself down take control of his nerves and the steering wheel.
Dalia comes to him. She says they have to turn of the engine and fish. She searches for a net but she can’t find any around. She takes a knife and jumps into the water. Tirad goes to Narivan. He has passed out, probably from the pain of burning his wound; he has lost a lot of blood. He sits by his side next to the small fire of the tin buckle, listening to the sound of the chunks burning and waiting for Dalia to come back. Dalia climbs the boat with the knife between her lips, holding two small bloodstained fish in her hand. She sits next to him and peels off the fish. She takes the fat under the fish skin with the tip of her nail-less fingers and puts them on Narivan’s burn mark. His wound is not bleeding anymore but the skin around it seems soar. This was the first time Dalia had done such a thing and she has burned too much of the skin around the wound. Dalia covers the wound with a cloth. She looks like Lealy as she attends to the wound but her body posture is different. Her muscular arms are thin and her breasts hardly hang from her body as she bends over Narivan. She doesn’t have Lealy’s white desirable line between her breasts that would take away Tirad whenever she bent over, taking away his breath and raising his heartbeat. Dalia makes a shelter over Narivan’s face and leaves the fish flesh to be roasted for lunch.
“It’s your turn now!” she says to Tirad pointing at his tattoo.
“We have to get rid of it… We can’t be safe anywhere with your Saviour tattoo,” she continues. But Tirad hides his arm behind his back. He doesn’t want to do it. This sacred tattoo is his identity, a symbol of his long lonely years on the Ship, studying, teaching, serving and trying so hard to fit in. He can’t burn away all that.
“The burn mark will make it more suspicious!” he tries to convince her. She stands behind Tirad’s head and takes his hair in her hand. She strikes with the same bloody knife that she had used to hunt the fish, cutting Tirad’s hair. Tirad doesn’t resist. He knows he has to cut his hair and beard to look more like the sea men and not to be seen like a devoted Saviour Disciple in the first glance. Cutting hair and beard is not recommended but not forbidden either. But the tattoo is Saviour’s direct order. Dalia continues cutting his hair as close as she can get to his skin, shaving it off. She then goes to his beard, sitting on his knees in front of him. Tirad tries so hard not to feel sorry but his tears roll down, misting Dalia’s nail-less fingertips.
“You know you can’t go back to the Saviour Ship… Not for Hurmaz’s parting ceremony… Not ever,” Dalia says to him in a warning tone.
“As soon as you set foot on the Saviour Island, they will tear you into pieces. Mart has made you the most hated man in the sea. They believe you have killed their women and children, set them on fire and ran away,” she continues. Tirad takes her hand to his eyes and cries, sobbing. But she doesn’t soften, keeping her serious tone.
“It will take time for you to prove your innocence. But with this looks and this tattoo, you won’t even survive the anger of the fishers,” she explains pointing to Tirad’s arm that he hides behind his back.
“If you want to be caught…so be it. All three of us will die. I don’t care but I can’t speak for Narivan. If you wish to prove your innocence, you have to stay alive and wait,” she finishes her words and tries to catch his arm again. Tirad says he needs some time to think about it. Getting rid of his tattoo is difficult for him, but Dalia says they don’t have time. As soon as it becomes dark and they turn on the boat lights, other fishing or diving boats sailing around the area might see them and approach. They can’t take more risks. She blames Tirad for having shown the naval guard his tattoo.
“What did you bring from the courier boat?” Tirad asks trying to change the subject.
“I thought I might find your warrant papers, but I found the coins… Here…let me show you!” she replies with a spark in her eyes. She gets up and brings the leather sack lying around beside the gunwale. She stretches her hand so Tirad can fetch the sack. Tirad brings out his arm from behind his back to catch it. Dalia doesn’t hesitate. She takes out the torch from the tin buckle with her other hand and presses it against Tirad’s arm. Tirad screams and falls down. The coins spread all over the deck around the two men passed out on the boat.
Chapter 24
The pilgrims of the Saviour have gathered around the deck of the stranded ship. A wooden platform is placed in front of the cabins. Hurmaz’s body is put on the platform covered with a thin, clean fabric and a young girl is chained to a rod next to the platform. She doesn’t seem to have more than fourteen years. Her mouth is covered with a dirty rag and her hands and feet are tied to the chains. The pilgrims swear and curse, throwing stones at her. The guards try to stop the stoning and keep her alive until the death sentence is carried out according to the Saviour Rules. The girl is bleeding all over and she has fallen down on her knees. One of the guards brings a wooden plank – probably left over from building the platform – and places it in front of the girl to save her from being stoned to death by the angry pilgrims. The Circle members enter the platform, wearing fine robes and the purple turban around their necks. They line up before Hurmaz’s body from the oldest Akhgar who has become the First Disciple to the youngest member, Mart, who has recently entered the Circle. They put their hands in front of their bodies and bend their heads to show their respect and sorrow. Then they step back and stand in line, all except for Akhgar. They try not to move or look at the gathered crowd as if they are afraid of losing their appearances and their fake show becomes undermined. The only member that seems to be truly sad is Chooman. He seems to have cried a lot and tears are building up in his eyes again; yet he seems more nervous than others of ruining the show for he can hardly control his sobbing. The Oxan chiefs and other chiefs from the ships come out of the corridor wearing luxurious clothes, behind them the disciples and the Ship maids come out with their usual appearances. They all stand in the special place beside the platform. The crowd roars as the special guests step on the deck. Akhgar gives the frenzied crowd a few seconds to calm down and stop talking. But they seem more excited than he thought. He orders the guards to silence them.
The guards shout out, “Silence!” And have to move through the crowd and stop them from murmuring. As they slowly calm down, Akhgar starts his speech:
“I, Akhgar, the son of Behbod, have been chosen as the eighth Great Disciple by the generous Circle members. I hereby swear my humble services to you as the First Disciple of the Saviour. I promise to bring you peace and security throughout all the lands and sea under the supervision of the Saviour Ship.” The crowd starts cheering him and he has to silence them again with his hand gesture. He continues:
“We all mourn the loss of our First Disciple, Hurmaz. My heart goes to our friends, the Oxan chiefs, the chiefs from all the ships that have gathered here today, to the masters, missioners and the maids and to all of you that have always been true servants to our beloved Master Hurmaz and the Saviour. Please accept my condolences. The parting ceremony will take place in the harbour. But before that I wanted to talk to you about our recent calamity… The Oxan fire…” The crowd disrupts Akhgar, shouting and cursing. Akhgar pauses and looks around nervously. The guards go between the crowd to make them calm down and listen. Akhgar wipes his sweat from his brows with a cloth. He goes on:
“The bitter accident in Oxan and the passing of our Great Disciple has struck us hard. The Saviour Ship has given coins and boats to the victims of the fire to compensate their loss. They are returning to their home ships as we speak. The Saviour Ship will never abandon its followers.” The crowd cheers him again.
“The man responsible for both disasters is a lost disciple who has forgotten his path and disobeyed the Saviour Rules. Tirad will be arrested and punished for his heinous crimes,” he continues and pauses to point at the girl who is chained to the platform. The guards take away the wooden plank so that the crowd may see the girl. Her face is washed with blood and tears. The crowd starts booing and cursing and throwing rocks at her.