could stand no more. He staggered for several painful steps, then fell solidly on his back. He struck his head during the fall, which dazed him somewhat.
As his head cleared, Arian realized that the load was gone.
I squashed the tree toad, he thought, during the fall.
He took several deep breaths of relief, then turned his weary, aching head to the side. His eyes widened in horror as he spotted the tree toad sitting comfortably on the road next to him.
"NO!!!"
The tree toad sprang from the ground, then landed with a heavy thud squarely in Arian's chest. Arian felt the weight of many sacks of grain hammer into his chest. The impact of the tree toad knocked the wind out of him; he struggled for a breath.
The tree toad calmly resumed its lengthy lineage of unfair burdens placed on Talimus, and with each citing it would increase its weight proportionally.
Arian struggled against death for a simple breath of life-giving air, yet the weight on his chest continued to increase. He wished that he could draw one last dying breath by which to curse the tree toad, though he somehow knew that breath would not be forthcoming. The pain in his chest escalated, then his sight began to dim.
Talimus had been laboring under his load for nearly four hours. His back ached, his legs had become numb, and he wondered where he got the strength to continue on. He knew the road well and, after four hours of toil, he had hardly reached the half-way point. He was hopeful, however; the sun had dried the mud that had been plaguing his footing all morning, and most of the steep grades were behind him.
He was just about to stop for a rest when he noticed a man lying motionless on the distant road. Talimus continued trudging under his load as he squinted to get a better look; the man was on his back, though his posture was nothing like someone resting or sleeping—it more closely resembled the dead. Talimus decided to postpone his rest long enough to investigate who the unfortunate soul might be. In all the years he had carried grain over that road, he had never encountered any travelers. Indeed, the only other person he ever saw on this road was...
"ARIAN!!!!"
With one motion he dropped all nine sacks of grain to the ground, then began running with aching legs toward the downed man. As he drew closer, his worst fears were confirmed; it was indeed his brother Arian. He poured more effort into his already labored sprint.
He reached Arian's side with tears in his eyes; he was not quite sure what he should do. He set an ear to Arian's mouth and nose; there was no sign of breathing.
He shouted through tear-stained eyes, "Please, I beg of you, be not dead!"
He looked over Arian's body for any sign of attack by man or animals; there was nothing—no wounds and not so much as a mark on his body. He even rolled his brother on his side to see if a knife had found its way into his back but there was nothing—no wounds or scars. Then Talimus recalled a discussion amongst the elders about life-sounds that can be heard with an ear to the chest—sounds much like the beating of a drum.
Talimus rolled his brother on his back; it was then that he noticed a small green tree toad, hardly much bigger than garden pea perched at the center of Arian's chest. He brushed to toad aside, then placed an ear to his chest.
Talimus heard nothing for a long time. Then, faintly, he heard a sound, like the sound of a drum muffled by the distance. As he listened, the sounds grew louder and stronger. Then, suddenly, Arian's chest began to rise and heave with slow, rhythmic motions.
As Arian's eyes flickered open, he found himself looking into his brother's tear-stained eyes. In an instant he recalled the horror of the tree toad; he began struggling and shouting.
"My brother! Deliver me, I beg you! Deliver me from the tree..."
"Be still!" Talimus insisted. "I thought you dead!"
Arian settled down somewhat. After a moment or two, he raised his head and looked at his chest; there were no scars, no mud. He pushed himself to a sitting position, then reached for his knee—it was fine! Relief and joy covered his face as he looked into his brother's eyes.
"I... I am well!"
"What happened to you that you should lie on the ground as if dead?"
Arian's joy gradually changed to disgrace; he lowered his head.
"I fear, I have cheated you, brother."
"What?"
Arian nodded, "I lied to you my brother. I never ferried your share of the grain in seasons past, nor did I ferry you. I played your trust to relieve myself of my share of the load." He looked up to the surrounding forest, "As such, I had to pay the Mystic's price."
"The mystic's price?"
Arian rose to his feet.
"It is now I who must repay a debt to you." Arian admitted. He looked around the immediate area as his brother stood up.
"Where is our grain?" Arian Asked.
Talimus pointed down the road, "Several paces back."
"Come", Arian said with a hand on his brother's shoulder, "I shall ferry the load for the last part of the journey."
"You cannot," Talimus insisted, "You are ill."
"I am well. It is you who is labored and in need of rest. I shall ferry the load, and we shall speak of things on the way, things like mystics and tree toads."
"Tree toads?"
"And I shall promise you this; when our journey is done and our grain is sold, we shall indeed see the minstrel's show at city square."
The two brothers continued their journey on the road to the great city of Avant—unaware that they were under the watchful eye of a tree toad perched high in a neighboring tree. Arian carried the heavy sacks of grain for the remainder of the journey and, with a measure of humility, told his brother a lengthy tale about the road, the load, and the tree toad.
The Road, the Load, and the Tree Toad Page 3