He left the tavern after eating dinner and downing a couple of drafts, heading toward the music of the festival that beckoned him toward entertainment and possibilities. As he turned onto the main street of the village, he noticed throngs of people gathered about, calling out greetings and introducing themselves with smiles and laughter that placed the moment in a surreal, almost-unimaginable time of peace and happiness that placed a calm smile on his lips and a glint in his eyes.
While meandering between stalls and looking at weapons, helmets, shields, packs, saddles, and such, he noticed out of the corner of his eye many beautiful women of diverse backgrounds with their dresses swaying to the rhythms of their walks, accentuating their feminine sensuality. It had been a long time since he had felt the warmth of a woman, smelled the sweet smell of a woman’s skin, or heard the soft laughter of a woman’s voice; yes, it had been a very long time.
Looking up, he caught her eye again staring straight into his with a determined attempt to find his gaze. He smiled at her and walked toward her with a casual gait, allowing himself the admiration of men and women alike.
Drawing closer, he bowed his head and said, “My lady, it is but twice now that we have met without introductions.”
“Yes, it is. My good sir, where is it that the sun and the dust have hailed you from?” she replied.
“From journeys too long and times much too distant to remember,” he softly quipped.
“Are you enjoying our harvest festival?” she asked.
“Uh-huh, it has been a long time since I have been to one, and it is a pleasure,” he said.
“If I may ask, sir, what is your name?” she inquired.
“Names are to be earned and relied upon for good and bad, my lady. Perhaps they should be left for another day,” he answered. “Where should I go to inquire about work?”
“The village elders on the other side of the square will help you with the work roster.” She pointed toward a shop that had a sickle hanging from its wall, indicating it as the farmer’s cooperative.
“Thank you, my lady. May you enjoy your evening, and perhaps we will meet again.” He touched his brow and bowed low to indicate his respect for her and moved off toward the farmer’s cooperative, not seeing her eyes of desire, the shallow breaths of expectation expelled from her lips, and the flush of red slowly draining from her skin of perfection.
Chapter 48
Planting
He walked over to the farmer’s cooperative with the same steady gait, intent upon acquiring a job to resupply his basic personal needs. He nodded to the older men as he approached and waited for them to officially acknowledge his presence.
“State your business,” one older man of evident stature spat out.
“I would like to hire myself out. I am skilled in metal work, leather work, and threshing,” replied the young man.
“Let me see your hands,” requested the old man.
The young man held up his hands.
“Hmm, yes, it would seem you know your work. What guild are you with?” the old man asked.
“I am not part of any guild, my lord. I am a freelancer looking for food, lodging, and a little pay,” he replied.
“It would seem from your attire and your beard that you are from the Edomite group of people to the east. Is this so?” a second elder asked.
“Yes, I am from the east, but my ancestry is from the southeast of here,” the man replied.
“Ah! Sumerian, I assume?” the old man inquired.
After nodding his head, the man answered, “Yes, Sumerian ancestry, but I am a man with no nation or family to call his own. I am only looking for work. I will not be any trouble.”
“Then you will want to go to the leather smithing guild over by the tavern and apply to them so your skills will not go to waste. I hear they desperately need a new leatherworker. The tides of change are coming, and the king has increased his leather-supply demands.” The man grinned with a toothless, knowing smile while wagging his thumb over his shoulder toward the leather smithing guild down the street.
The young man thanked him and moved on down the street and proceeded to acquire work for himself.
The days blended into weeks, and the weeks combined into months while the man worked the hammer and the hide. His work was becoming known throughout the area for its superior quality, and the volume of business for the owner was increasing each month exponentially. It was at this time, three new moons past the summer-harvest festival, when the man noticed his future—a hand of trepidation and gentle kindness. Looking up from his work, the young woman with the pools of blue sky looked straight at him, and her cheeks blushed with the crimson red of the young and uninitiated.
As with the hands love tasted
Smiling through a slow breath
Trembling lips of desirous parting
Have tipped the scales of want
The connected channel of heart’s light
Glows through the fog of the mind
Taking with it the seeds of lost campaigns
Driving forth tender affections of finality
Pulsing rhythms of shallow signs
Follow the lines and curves of life
Nature points to the direction
But time provides the conclusion
How does a man so small and finite
Given such inner dwelling of prose
Define the working of his hands
With a heart so full of want
And a mind so full of definition
That actions and conclusions intermingle
To ripple across the oceans of time
Coming to this one finality
Not knowing the love tasted
With life’s slow breathe
To bring ways of parting
Upon all people of want
At first, the man did not know what to think or say as the apparent point of purpose stared him in the face. She smiled behind her veil, keeping her eyes focused on his. Her feminine stature was entirely out of place in this workshop of men and fire. The smell of brimstone and blast furnace permeated everywhere, giving a distinct odor of decisive acquiescence.
She covered her nose with a hand of bronzed skin that glowed in the firelight, sending crystal-like sparkles shimmering up her arm. The man stared at her with a longing born from desperation—desperation born from centuries of history. Looking up into her eyes, he fell into pools of thought, knowing the path and not wanting to let go of his promise. She nodded her head and gestured for them to retreat outside; with him putting down his hammer and taking off his apron, she turned around with the supple grace of silk and a lilac aroma dancing off her person.
Following her, he recalled his first love, who was so far beyond memory that her face became lost in the annals of wind and sand for all time; his first taste of passion so strong that hammers of defiance or swords of justice could not conquer the need for fulfillment. It was this startling introduction to the world of love and desire that he dove into headlong with a heart full of purpose, not thinking of the causalities of his actions—those ripples that moved under the fabric of conscious awareness.
“My good sir, I have a request for you, if you are willing to take it,” she said.
“Of course, my lady. What is it you ask me?” he queried.
“My father is in need of two yokes for his oxen. Can you supply them by the next full moon?” she asked.
“Perhaps I can if I finish up on my current orders within the next fortnight,” he mused.
“Good. Father will come by tomorrow to provide the measurements and down payment,” she mentioned as she backed away from him with a twinkle in her eye and a deepening blush on her cheeks. “I look forward to seeing you again, good sir. May you have a pleasant day and blessings from the gods.”
“Thank you, and may the goddess of Heart’s Light continue to shine upon you,” he replied. His heart beat faster, and the telltale sign of desire climbed up his back to lodge itself firmly in his fr
ontal cortex, blurring his vision and pouring doses of sweat upon his brow.
He shook his head and wiped his forehead while a faint twitch of a smile leaped across his face, betraying his inner thoughts. He turned and walked back to his anvil and the day’s work, knowing in his heart that the time for love’s intervention of hope had come.
He had been here many times before and knew the eventual outcomes—death and despair. He had sworn never to face the pain and loss of such moments again, but time had a way of healing his mind and making it forget those days. Was this to be a mistake? He knew his life was not one to be shared. No one could fully understand his predicament.
Chapter 49
A Traveler’s Time
The time for settlement had enveloped the weary traveler in a stupor of calm and peaceful existence. Working his talent within the leather guild, he established for himself a reputation of renowned workmanship. The king of the land was requisitioning leather armor, saddles, tents, and other supplies for his army as warfare was soon to be upon them.
The man focused his energy on the tasks at hand and worked out his demons of the past, present, and future possibilities through the sweat of his brow and the swing of his hammer. He had finished the oxen yokes and bridles for the young woman’s father and had delivered them personally. However, she was not at her father’s location; hence, he did not have the chance to see her. That put consternation in his heart, driving him to work harder to quell the desires of his mind and body.
After a hard day’s work, the man usually wound up at one of the town’s five taverns for a meal and a flagon of beer to wash away the day’s grime and refresh his battered soul. While washing down leeks, bread, and mutton, the man’s eyes strayed from the fire burning in the fireplace to the opening of the tavern’s door. His heart leaped with a desire so intense he had to stifle a cry of welcome and control his emotions with a raised eyebrow toward the beauty smiling at him from the door’s entryway.
She gracefully swept across the floor toward the man, silk flowing out from across her body and waves of effervescent spice and gleaming oil upon her skin. With the warm embrace of a smile, she sat herself down at his table and folded her hands in her lap, waiting for him to greet her. He stood and bowed to her with a flourish and smiled with sincerity, thankful for the intrusion upon his monotonous daily ritual.
“My lady, what brings you here to this establishment of work’s grind and the anvil’s wishes?” exclaimed the man.
“My father wishes to thank you for the yokes and to let you know of their fine quality. Also, he would like to invite you to his establishment for dinner to come to know you better and to offer you a business proposal,” she answered.
“Ah, so it was not my fine acquaintance you arrived for, but a message of dinner and business?” he blurted out, regretting the statement immediately and wishing to grab hold of the words and shove them back down his throat.
She blushed with a nervous twitch of her lips and looked down at the floor for perhaps escape or comfort. “Yes and yes. It has been quite some time since we met, and I look forward to meeting you in a more refined and formal way. However, if I may say so, it is important for my father to know whom he is requesting for company. Your name would be appreciated and perhaps a little less formal,” she quipped.
“My name is Talmido. I am of Chaldean ancestry from the Tigris River of the Fertile Crescent,” Talmido said.
“Oh, a man of the Orient. What interesting tales you must have. Well, better left for the dinner three days hence. Thank you, Talmido, for your time and acceptance. We will see each other then,” she whispered as she turned to leave with all eyes on her femininity and graceful beauty.
Talmido stood and bowed to her as she retreated to the door and left the establishment, silently asking her for her name because he was unable to utter the words.
It has begun, he mused. Three days from now, he would know the real purpose of the invitation and the direction life would be taking him. He had only expected to stay in this hamlet for one or two seasons; however, it seemed that time and circumstances were catching up with him, to his pleasant surprise.
Three days later, Talmido found himself riding along toward his destiny with thoughts of anxious nervousness at embarking on a journey of perhaps heartbreak or wonder. It was not his first time; however, it seemed as if it was. The centuries had left their indelible stain of loss and confusion, adding to Talmido’s quest for answers and purpose.
It seemed that life was not meant to provide answers—only questions and wonder. Talmido had wandered the ancient landscape of the Fertile Crescent, the Egyptian Nile Delta, and the northern forests across the vast sea.
He had been witness to awe-inspiring wonders of geography, animals, and humans. It had left an imprint upon his mind, and a sense that something of greater importance was being played out on a much grander theater of life—something not of this world.
Talmido, by this time, had been witness to over six hundred years of human history. He had seen the rise and fall of the Assyrian Empire, the rise of the Babylonian Empire, the fall of the Egyptian Empire, and the rise of the Persian Empire with Darius and Xerxes, his son, as the rulers of a vast power of antiquity beyond the scope of real understanding of many historians.
He was now in the southeastern part of the Greek city-state known as Troy. The wind and sand had blown him west toward this city by circumstance and curiosity. The hamlet he was in was outside the city walls, approximately fifteen leagues from the city proper. Trade with Troy had been brisk and lucrative, and war between the city-states there was brewing and would shortly break out onto the shores, providing for historical consequence and future possibilities. Talmido shook his head as he contemplated his experiences and the wonders he had witnessed.
Centuries of adventure, the interaction with complex societies of numerous men and women, mysteries too hard to fathom, and a world full of wonder waiting to be explored had filled him with a deep sense of awe. Mixed into his life were the ever present loss and suffering that confused and dulled his mind. The loss of loved ones and the ongoing suffering for generation after generation of all people. Yet, here he was – over six hundred years later, as young as he was at the age of twenty five, never sick, age-less in a world of withering and death. Too many times to count he should have died, but somehow he always eluded that master. Why? What had caused the gods to take such a course of action toward him and what did they have in store for his future?
The Causality of Time
Conception
(Book 2)
The adventures of Talmido continue with The Causality of Time – Conception (Book 2). Follow Talmido and Si-tatious as they continue to flee south towards the Sea above Akkad. Witness the defining battles they endure to attempt to secure their freedom and rejoice as they construct their new city. Come to know and understand the emperor and kings involved in one of history’s defining moments that shaped the outcome of civilizations today.
Meet Ke-zith-rist, Axhereim and Mardu-poe as the ancient past comes alive through space faring species and multi-dimensional creatures bent on defining their cosmic view of our universe. Gain a hint to the origins of some of the most baffling cosmic questions scientists ponder today. Experience some of the fiercest solar and galactic battles involving Homo sapiens.
Perhaps check out the ongoing saga of Talmido through The Causality of Time – Conception (Book 2) at www.jonnathan-strawthorne.com.
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Table of Contents
The Causality of Time (Book1) The Causality Of Time By Jonnathan Strawthorne
______________________________________ PART ONE COMPROMISED PROMISES ______________________________________
Chapter 1
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapt
er 13
______________________________________ PART TWO GRANDEUR AND DIVISION ______________________________________
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
______________________________________ PART THREE FREEDOM'S JOURNEY ______________________________________
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
______________________________________ PART FOUR THE INHERITANCE ______________________________________
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
______________________________________ PART FIVE A JOURNEY'S QUEST ______________________________________
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
______________________________________ PART SIX A QUEST TO UNDERSTAND ______________________________________
Chapter 47
The Causality of Time Page 25