Through the Dark Wood

by Geno Allen

  “The night had gone and morning broke,

  And you came to find me.

  The strength of your great deed now done,

  I’m safe and I am free.

  Now rest good hero for a time.

  May it be that you will sleep.

  But very soon,

  I pray that you,

  Will wake and you will see,

  Your prize for the fighting,

  The victory you won.

  For a time you rest in peace,

  But your deeds here are not done.”

  Zam suddenly recalled why he was aching so badly. The dragon’s face flashed through his mind. Again he saw the beast eye to eye with little Tearis, and how she stood firm, so sure the beast would fall, so sure she would be safe. A tear rolled from his eye and he smiled. He was looking right at her now, but she had yet to notice he was awake. She kicked her feet back and forth as they dangled from the chair and her song continued.

  “Now in that land where not awake,

  Your heart and mind may dream,

  But may it be only a while,

  ‘til you return to me.”

  Molly looked in on Tearis, but didn’t notice Zam was awake. “Tearis, love, that is a sweet song, but it’s time to prepare for bed.”

  Tearis frowned a little. “All right, Aunt Molly. I just wanted Zam to hear it. I think he would like it.”

  “I do,” Zam said weakly. “It’s lovely.” He was suddenly aware of how much it hurt to breathe. Tearis and Molly were startled and then overjoyed.

  “Zam! You’re awake!” Tearis squealed, leaping to throw her arms around him. Molly caught her in mid-air, fearing she would cause him more pain if the hug found its mark.

  “Tearis, my dear, you must be careful with Zam. He is badly injured.” Molly set her down, looked at Zam smiling, and choked back tears.

  Tearis said, very matter-of-fact, “I’m sorry, Zam, I almost hurt you.”

  “That’s all right, Tearis.” He squeezed her hand. “I’m just glad you’re safe from the dragon.”

  Keer ran into the room. “So it is true! You really had to kill a dragon to save her?” He was all ears and smiles.

  All the family poured into the room with whooping, hollering, and cheers. Last through the door was Galwen, leaning on a crutch and walking with a limp. He was beaming.

  Molly followed Zam’s gaze to the door. “No you don’t, Jacob Galwen Dorria. You need rest as much as Zam does. You go straight back to bed.”

  Galwen smiled good-naturedly. “My dear daughter-in-law, I will remain. Once I have assured myself of Zam’s well-being you may play my nurse again.” He puffed out his chest, but the act caused him immediate pain. He winced and spoke again, somewhat humbled. “Until then... I will sit in this chair.”

  Molly conceded with a half-smile and shook her head.

  The children fired a barrage of questions at Zam.

  “Was it really a dragon?”

  “How big was it?”

  “Could it actually talk?”

  “What did it look like?”

  “Were its scales really like metal?”

  “How did you kill it?”

  “Were you scared?”

  Galwen spoke up. “Children, give him a moment’s peace. I’m sure Zam is still exhausted.”

  Each child quietly apologized as they circled around Zam‘s bed, smiling.

  Zam looked at each of them, then at the fatherly figure of Galwen. It was a perfect moment. All these beaming faces. It felt like family; it felt like love. “If you’ll permit me, Galwen, I don’t mind. I should like to answer their questions.” He looked at Molly and Barea. “But, I am hungry and quite thirsty.”

  Recognition struck Barea. “Of course! I will fetch something.” She quickly left the room.

  Molly smiled. “She wishes to show her gratitude.”

  Zam looked each child in the eyes and smiled. “Now, to answer those questions.”

  Keer jumped up and down. “Me first! Me first!”

  Everyone laughed. Molly pulled him to her side and hugged him. Zam sat part way up in bed, ignoring the ache, and looked about the room until his eyes met Dorrin’s somber gaze.

  “Actually, Keer, I should like to answer Dorrin’s question first, and the answer is yes, I was scared.” With notable depth, he added, “But only part of the time.” He remembered how the fear had drained from him when he recalled the phrase Elyon will decide.

  Although he was tired, the smiling faces of the family were bringing him strength. Barea returned with food and water, and Zam went around the room one by one answering their questions, through bites and sips. They were all very much in awe. A while later, when all the children were in bed—presumably dreaming of great battles with dragons—Galwen, Molly, and Barea still talked with Zam.

  Galwen shook his head. “When Tearis first described what happened it was hard to believe.”

  Zam asked, “Didn’t think I had it in me? Neither did I.”

  Before Galwen could contest that, Barea spoke up. “And she really stood face to face… with a dragon?” That a six year old girl—their little Tearis—had stood so strong in the face of such a great terror was overwhelming.

  Molly said, “It’s difficult to fathom.” She turned to Zam with an awed tone. “A few days ago she shared with me that she’d been dreaming the same dream every night for weeks; a dream that a man rescued her from a dragon. A man that she recognized when she met you, Zam.”

  Galwen nodded and joined in. “While you were still unconscious, Zam, she shared the same tale with me. She said the first time she dreamt it, you lost the battle and she woke up crying. Barea reminded her that even in dreams Elyon decides. Tearis then said after that night you won, every time. So, she had not mentioned the dream again.”

  Zam was filled with the bewildering sense that life may be bigger than he ever dreamed it could be. “Then she really did know me. She had seen me every day, or night rather, for weeks? That explains the looks she gave me.”

  Galwen chuckled. “It does. Right from the first moment she met you.”

  Zam pondered it all. “She faced that beast knowing I would save her.” He relived the moment in his mind. “I wonder. Perhaps she dreamed it that many times so she would truly know her part. I could not have defeated the beast without her courage.”

  They talked a while longer but eventually Molly announced, “Good sirs, I am once again your nurse and you both need rest if you hope to truly mend.” Both of them conceded. Galwen was overjoyed that Zam was on the mend, and Zam was grateful to have been the hero young Tearis needed. But, for all the joy, Zam had a looming sense that his quest had hardly begun.

  The next couple of weeks passed slowly. Zam felt less useful than he ever had. Molly wouldn’t let him do anything but rest and heal. As the days passed, he spent some time learning games from the children, reading from the book Graffeon had given him, walking for hours with Dorrin in the woods—not Darlandis—and getting to know the townspeople. He was glad to have met many of them and was sure they too would stay in his heart; like Darik, the town’s farmer-guardsman, who had cleared the watchtower of it resident villain the night Tearis was taken. With a watchful eye, Zam had discovered Darik was enamored of Barea and her children.

  Zam wondered what would come of those feelings, and whether Barea was aware. She’d been a widow for five years now. Zam smiled. Darik is kindly and strong. He might have a chance.

  Many townsfolk also came around simply to hear again and again how the valiant Zam Windwater had slain the black dragon. At first he enjoyed telling the story, but the more he told it, the less it seemed a tale to be told. There was a severity to the memory, a depth that was growing in his mind, an understanding of… something.

  One afternoon after recounting the tale to a local family and their out-of-town cousin, Zam was distracted. There is more of this I must do... more protecting when I feel too weak, more fighting evil things... maybe dragons, maybe worse..
.. He sighed. “But can there be something worse than a dragon?”

  He’d also come to dislike telling the tale for fear of his own pride. The more he told the tale, the more heroic he seemed to the children and townsfolk, and the more heroically he told the story. That made him uncomfortable. I know how weak I really am. This whole dragon battling thing is not really me.

  The more he thought about the battle the more he wondered how he of all people could even have survived, let alone slain a dragon. The farther removed he was from the event the more dreamlike and false it seemed. Soon he stopped telling the tale at all.

  One afternoon, when Molly had begun letting him actually help with things, Zam carried an easel and canvas down to the riverbank for her. She always tried to make time for painting—not every day, but often.

  As she painted and they faced the Glast River and Sharizeen Mountains that separate Rivertowne from Knighton, Molly turned her attention from the beauty she was capturing, to Zam. “You seem to be healing well. How have you been feeling?”

  He was staring into the distance, comparing the horizon with Molly’s handiwork. “I’ve been feeling well. You are a fine nurse, Molly. My ribs and arm are mending, though I still ache, and I'm certain I am not fully healed.”

  Molly hesitated. “I am glad you’re mending, Zam.” She began putting brush to canvas again. “But I meant how have you been feeling?”

  Zam didn't know how to answer. He had never voiced his feelings, save perhaps to a stray sheep when he absolutely had to speak of them. Sharing emotions was uncharted territory for him, as was most everything. “Well, I am unsure…” he fidgeted.

  Molly looked at him in a way that made him know his thoughts and feelings were safe with her, then turned back to her painting.

  Zam sighed. “Molly, your care and the care of your family has been more than I ever could have wished for. And Galwen requesting that I not pay for my stay… well, it has me overwhelmed with gratitude. The children are the most enjoyable… they bring me… they’re just like–”

  “Family?”

  He sighed again. “Yes. Like family.” Sadness crossed his face.

  “Why does that sadden you, Zam?”

  “I’ve never had a family, Molly, not really, not that I can recall. I feel presumptuous to think of them that way. But I do love them as brothers and sisters.”

  “It isn’t presumption to feel that way, Zam. They place you in that role. You are a friend and hero to them, and to Dorrin you’re very much an older brother. He has been without his father or any true friend for many years. You are, now and forever, deep in the hearts of this family.”

  Zam half-smiled at the thought, but sadness still clung to him.

  Molly set her brush down. “Elyon sent you this way so you would find us and come to know us, so you could be the hero Tearis needed.” She looked sincerely at him. “Also to learn some things you would never have learned if you had not come. Of this I am certain.”

  Zam’s heart ran through so many emotions as Molly spoke that tears filled his eyes. “But, Molly, I am not a hero. Not in truth. I am weak. I’m no more than a lonesome shepherd who stumbled upon a family, stumbled into a battle and, by unbelievable chance, found victory.” He lowered his head. “And now I feel like a fake.” He pressed the tears from his eyes. “You all say ‘Elyon will decide,’ but I don’t even know what that really means. I’ve never met anyone named Elyon. He sent a messenger to me and set me on this quest, which led me here. For that… I am more grateful than I can express, but I feel to the depth of me that my time here is drawing short.”

  Molly remained silent, taking in all Zam was saying, her face radiating love for him.

  “Molly, I feel this has only been the beginning, and that when I am fully mended I will have to move on… away from all of you… to some other danger. I feel as though I am yet to face some other evil… probably greater than dragons.” He stopped a moment and looked longingly into Molly’s care-filled eyes. “And I won’t have you, or Galwen or Dorrin or the children to give me the sense of peace, of belonging, that I have felt in this place.” Tears were streaming from his eyes.

  Molly reached out to wipe one away, her loving manner pulling more of his sorrow to the surface.

  “Molly,” his words caught in his throat, and he continued through shuddering breaths. “It makes me wish my wounds would not heal… that I could stay here… call this home… and at that I feel presumptuous.” His frustration with himself welled up, and he spoke with that brand of anger most often used to cover sorrow. “I feel like a burden, Molly, like I am trying to belong where I do not. And I feel more that I… I just–” Emotion struck too hard for him. He slumped down to the rocks beside the river with his face in his hands. “I am sorry, Molly.” He shook his head in disapproval of himself. “I didn’t intend such an outburst.” He sobbed and wiped tears from his eyes.

  Molly sat down beside him. “Young Zam Windwater, there is much you have yet to learn about life, about yourself, about others, and Elyon. When you find people with your same heart, they are family... not blood, but family all the same.”

  Zam looked up from his hands, searching her eyes for the truth of the words she spoke.

  She continued, compassion softening her voice. “You might be right about moving on from here, but even if you do, you will remain in our hearts. And from all you say, I am sure we will stay in yours. Life brings many trials, but trials are the beginning of strength.” She placed her hand softly on his shoulder and looked into his eyes, searching for that part of him that would believe he was strong. “You are stronger for having battled that dragon, Zam. You are stronger if you push through the feelings of loss that may come when the next leg of your quest begins. You will be stronger for every battle, whether inward, in your heart or mind, or outward, against villainous people or frightening creatures. Elyon set you on this quest, and if you are to move on from here, there will be help along the road. There will also be hearts here to welcome you if ever you should return.”

  At that Zam smiled a little.

  “Zam, set aside any thought of presumption. You are family.” They sat a long while beside the river and Molly held him in a tender embrace.

  So this is what it feels like… to have a mother.

  After some time Molly spoke again, still holding him. “As to you not knowing Elyon, you are beginning to know him. Oftentimes he seems distant from those who would know him, but even then he can be as close as a whispered word. He is a great king. My heart knows more of him than does my mind. Perhaps one day I will be graced with meeting him and knowing him better. Until then, what I know is this.” She let go her embrace and turned his face to meet hers. “Elyon will decide in my life... and in yours.”

  At that she wiped one last tear from Zam's cheek and stood. Helping him to his feet, she said with a mock sternness, “Zam Windwater, as your nurse I can assure you it will be a few more weeks, at least, until you are able to go anywhere.” Her voice softened. “And for the next several days you and I will paint together beside the river.”

  Zam smiled, feeling lighter. “I should like that very much, Molly. Very much.”

  The next several weeks passed more easily even with Zam’s lingering sense that his quest would have to continue soon. It was a clear day in late spring. The sun had played tag with the clouds all day long and the clouds had been losing. Now as the sun was making its descent to the horizon, Zam sat with Tearis, Keer, Laise, Tannis, and Rheen in the very spot where he first laid eyes on Galwen and his family near the little stream that ran from the hills to the river.

  Dorrin and Keerin were off somewhere doing whatever older siblings do, and Laise and Tannis were acting out a story their mother had told them about a princess and a jester. Zam and the children watched and laughed heartily.

  Zam was enjoying their play very much until he caught something out of the corner of his eye: a shadowy something creeping along the water’s edge. He kept shifting his focus from th
e children to the shadow. It seemed to be stalking him and the children, but keeping its distance. A fear began inside him. The sun was setting, making it difficult to see more than an obscured silhouette. He couldn’t make out its appearance but it seemed large and shrouded in darkness.

  Zam didn’t alert the children yet. He didn't want to startle them and thereby send them into some evil creature’s trap. Instead he watched. All he had for defense of himself or the children was his wooden training sword. Galwen had been giving him lessons that afternoon and over the last few weeks. One afternoon he'd tossed the wooden blade to Zam and said, “Your left arm may be hurt, but your right arm can learn a sword, so hop to.”

  Zam tightened his grip on the wooden sword, wishing he had his real one. The shadowy presence crept closer and crouched at just the point where the sun made it most difficult to see. Zam quietly said, “Children, stop your play now and gather behind me.” The look on his face said there was reason not to argue the point. At just the moment that Keer—who was straggling as usual—passed behind Zam, the shadowy creature leapt.

  Zam flashed toward it and brought the wooden blade down with all his might, just dodging a strike from a similar wooden sword.

  “Ow, Zam! That hurt!” Dorrin dropped the black cloak he had been wearing and tried to rub the spot on his back where Zam’s practice blade had struck.

  Zam, startled, regained himself and laughed. “Serves you right you little creature, sneaking up on us that way! I thought you were some sort of real danger.”

  Dorrin chuckled. “Well, at least I had you going. You should have seen how grim your face was."

  Zam slugged Dorrin in the shoulder and Dorrin protested. "Grandfather said I could ambush you.”

  That’s fitting. Galwen wanted Zam on his toes when his quest continued. He shook his head and ruffled Dorrin’s hair.

  Keerin finally crept from the shadows as well. “I sure am glad I didn’t strike first.”

  “You too?” Zam asked, feigning shock. “If you weren’t a girl….” He chuckled then turned back to Dorrin. “And if you weren’t still better with a sword than I am–”