10 Conflict
"Run boy!" he said, glaring.
Balan looked up at him intently and slowly shook his head. He knew that he was risking his skin, defying Tristan like this. But he had made up his mind and he was not backing down.
Tristan shrugged and pulled two more arrows from his quiver. Seconds later they were neatly embedded in the target on the other side of the valley.
"You will do more then," he stated.
Balan felt his anger rising. He would not "do more". He refused to retrieve any more arrows for Tristan like this. Twice now had Tristan made him run to fetch a number of arrows until he had literally collapsed. He was not going to do it again.
Tristan looked at the boy expectantly.
Balan didn't move.
Determined to end the boy's defiance, Tristan took a few steps in his direction. Alarmed, Balan fought his urge to back away.
Tristan grabbed Balan's arm and dragged him towards the slope. He pushed the boy forward, but after a few steps, Balan stopped and turned around.
A defiant gleam shone from the boy's eyes.
"Don't push it, boy," Tristan warned.
The boy withstood the scout's ominous gaze in silence.
Balan knew that Tristan would not hesitate to punish him if he did not run soon. He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself.
He thought of his father's words.
(flashback)
"No man ever really looses his freedom, Balan, until the day he decides to give it away."
They were standing on a hill overlooking the vast Sarmatian landscape, watching the bustle of their tribe between the cluster of tents below.
Dinadan cupped his son's cheek and caressed the boy's head. "Romans can be cruel, my son. Many of them will not hesitate to hurt you if you do not follow their rules. You will not be able to change that. So remember there is no point in fighting it."
Balan looked up at his father, listening attentively.
Dinadan placed his large hands on his son's shoulders and lowered himself to the boy's eye level.
"Always remember one thing, my son. If they hurt you when you break the rules, it doesn't mean that you are not free. These rules are their rules. Not yours. If you decide from the bottom of your heart that you do not agree with them, I want you to consider your options and find your own freedom. Even if that means you have to endure the pain they will inflict upon you."
Balan nodded.
"So I must break the rules?" he asked.
"Only those worth breaking," Dinadan replied. "Only those worth enduring the pain for."
He closed his eyes briefly before looking deeply into his son's brown eyes.
"Do not be afraid of the pain, my boy. You can always choose to endure the rule, rather than the pain. But remember that you are the one making that choice within the freedom of your heart. You are the one choosing. This way you are always free."
(end of flashback)
Tristan glared as he moved his hand to his belt.
"Must I help you, boy?" he threatened.
Balan flinched. Tristan would keep on whipping him until he would run, he was certain of that.
He tried to calm his racing mind. He did not want to run. But he did not want to be whipped either. He considered the option of running back to the fort. But once he would get there, he had nowhere to go.
Balan bit his lip. He was not going to give up now.
"Suit yourself boy," Tristan commented and unbuckled his belt.
It took all of Balan's willpower to stay where he was when Tristan stepped towards him.
"Kneel, boy."
Balan refused.
Tristan grabbed a fistful of the boy's hair and pushed him to the ground.
Recognizing defeat, Balan grasped the grass firmly and tried to ignore his fear. He was not going to run, he kept telling himself.
At the first lash of Tristan's belt, Balan bit his lip so hard it started bleeding. He was only wearing a thin shirt and the belt cut into his skin.
A second lash cut through the first one.
"Now run, boy!" Tristan demanded.
Balan clenched his fists and tried to ignore the pain. He would not!
A third time the belt cracked across his back.
The searing pain almost caused him to scream. His arms buckled and his head collided with the ground. Balan realized that he was not going to win this. Tears started burning in his eyes.
Without a word he jumped to his feet and started running down the slope.
Tristan's eyes followed him warily.