The Words in Red

Chapter The Dishonor



The next morning I awoke just before sunrise. The Teacher was not in his tent. I walked among the camp but could not find him. Then I spotted his silhouette standing on a hill overlooking a valley. He was facing the east. It was as if he was waiting for the sun to arise. I walked up the hill to join him.

We heard a voice shout out from the valley below. A wailing voice cried out in great pain. We traveled towards the voice. I said, “Beloved Teacher, if this person is severely injured, what shall we do?”

“The voice cries out in pain of heart and not of body.” The Teacher said.

I knew not how could he know such a thing from just the sound of a voice? But he did.

We entered into the yard of a small farm house. Chickens scratched and a few goats grazed beside the home. The father sat out front at a grinding wheel. He was sharpening a long and wide sword, crying in a strange language as he worked. The mother stood in the doorway of the house. Hiding behind her was a young girl of ten or twelve. They were also crying.

The father saw us approaching and held the sword in our direction. “Leave this place, we entertain no guest today for we mourn!”

“I have not come for you to host. I have come to assist your trouble.” The Teacher looked from the man to the doorway.

“Please leave us, just leave this place! We are too broken to bear you. Go away and allow me to cleanse the honor of my family.” The father pleaded.

“Father, please tell me, what has occurred here?” The Teacher’s eyes were gentle.

“A terrible thing has happened, and I must perform a terrible deed to correct it. I must slay my daughter and redeem our honor.” The father wept more and laid the sword upon the turning stone again.

“Loss of your daughter will not bring correction to your troubles. The child and mother are in fear of your actions.” The Teacher waved his hand toward the doorway, but the man could not bear to look. “Hand me the sword and rest for a while. I wish to visit with you and the mother.” He turned to look at her. Her eyes begged him to stay the hand of the father. His eyes told her, he would.

The Teacher reached for the sword, the father allowed him. Teacher handed me the sword and said, “Put this thing away.”

Not knowing what to do with it, I turned back down the path from which we had come. I went to pitch the thing among the brush. Then I saw Sagan, Deanna and the other students. They had followed our trail. When Sagan saw me carrying the weapon, he hurried his pace towards me. He relieved me of the sword. It was a heavy weight to hold. He followed me back into the yard. It was then we heard the Teacher weeping.

He was on his knees with the mother and father on either side. The child stood in the middle. Her hands clung to the Teacher’s robe. He had his arms stretched out around the family. They wept together.

All of us who were present, had heard the Teacher weep before, but none of us had ever heard him cry in such a manner. He wailed out in agony. His back and shoulders trembled. He sobbed openly and caused us great pity. His face and beard were wet with tears. We could not bear the sight or the sound of our Teacher’s broken heart. We all began to weep.

When the mourning had subsided, the Teacher urged the family to enter their home. He whispered to the mother and father. The mother kissed his cheek. The Teacher walked closer to us, his eyes staring off in the distance. He called forth to the women. “Come and tend to the young girl. She is in need of healing in both body and mind.”

He turned to Sagan and ordered, “Place two strong men to guard the home, as the women tend to this family.”

Then the Teacher moved to the side and motioned for the women to enter the home. He stood there silently, his head hung low, his face still wet with tears.

Ayaan walked past him first. She wiped her tears in his presence.

Next, Alexandria walked past him. She also, wiped her tears.

Then Deanna walked in front of him. She turned and faced him. She bowed her head on his chest. She wrapped her arms around him. He stood as a statue. She looked up into his face. She placed her palms on each cheek. Her thumbs reached up and wiped the tears from under his eyes. Then he looked at her.

“My beloved, the child needs you now, more than any other.” He took her hands in his, kissed them and then began to walk back up the hill.

Sagan and I followed. Sagan asked him, “Teacher... the girl?”

“Yes... she has been... violated. She will require much healing.” The Teacher continued his hurried pace back to the camp. He added, “The poor children often spend time at the temple to perform work in place of their families’ tithe. The goddamn tithe!”

Sagan was shocked and ask “It occurred at the temple?”

“Yesss!” I had never before heard such anger in his voice.

“Teacher, please I pray you, tell me not it is...”

“Yes! It is! She spoke his name.”

Sagan caught up to the Teacher’s fast march and grabbed him by the arm. “Teacher, are you sure. She is young...perhaps?”

The Teacher glared at Sagan and said, “I looked in her eyes, when she spoke his name.” The student looked down in shame. “Her parents told me of other families who have suffered this assault as well.”

He continued to move up the hill. We followed quickly behind him.

“Teacher, what are going to do?” I asked. Sagan’s expression displayed dissatisfaction with my inquiry, for he was afraid of the Teacher’s answer.

“I will go to the temple and confront this clergy man, as well as the high priest.” The Teacher declared.

Sagan again reached to take the Teacher by the arm. “My beloved, please, you cannot. It is the Festival of Offerings. The temple guards will not allow a disruption, this is the temple’s most prosperous festival!”

“I care not for their festival or their damnable religion of men. I will go and cleanse this temple. I shall bring judgment to this house of prayer and offering, for it has become a house of perversion and a den of iniquity. Woe unto those who would oppose my judgment!” The Teacher said.

At the camp the Teacher entered his tent alone and closed the flap. We all prayed that he would meditate and calm himself. He did not.


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