As the moon came up, so too did the sounds of festivity die down. Everyone returned to their homes of modest clay and wood, ready for a well-earned meal and some well-deserved rest.
There, inside the most humble of the lot, a one-floor abode, the witness of better times far gone by, sat two unlikely companions. Guests of forced hospitality, discussing recent turns of events as they sat on the table in the middle of the kitchen, their dinner plates of light stew left untouched, despite the meager quality of supper, of which they too refused to eat. Their host, on the other hand, paid little heed to their quarrels, as she did too to their solidarity for her plight, having thrown supper away and not bothering with even a spoonful of stew for the night.
She sat beside the nearby fireplace of the near wall-less home, her haggard eyes fixated on the tiny, sparkling embers, the crackling of the thin reeds of firewood, and, every now and then, the bouquet of decrepit roses laying by her side. Not a word came out of her since her meeting with the pair.
"Is she alright?" said Amram.
"For God's sake, Amram, concentrate!" said Zelikman. "You are forgetting one important factor to our entire ordeal. If the numbers add up correctly, then those other six horsemen might just have been the same ones who made fools out of us back in that blasted desert."
Amram nodded, without darting his sight away from Ariadne's kneeling shape.
"…Amram," Zelikman insisted.
"Oh, yes, of course, I concur with your logic, Zelikman. However, there is but one problem. You see, I failed to detect any signs or hints of recognition from the masked riders back at the village square. Their covered faces wandered on and about as if on daydream and never once did they ever so much as give us a passing glance, less so the Chieftain himself, whom eccentric as he may have been, was genuine in his hospitality."
Zelikman let out a mock laugh.
"Must you be ever so blindly optimistic, my friend?" he scoffed. "Hospitality? The man is a lunatic! Hospitality, hah! Why he's no more than the pagan ringleader of a band of bestial men!"
"So you do consider their strength most unnatural?" Amram showed the hint of a smirk.
Zelikman rolled his eyes.
"A form of expression, Amram, nothing more. Beast-like men, brutes, berserkers, perhaps even our own overconfidence getting the better of us during the heat of the moment. That is yet another possible explanation if you insist on arguing about it," he sighed. "Regardless, my point still stands. It is best we leave sooner rather than later, lest we continue to test our fortune like a pair of motherless gamblers."
"…The Keepers of the Faith," Ariadne whispered, her unblinking gaze never straying away from the fire.
Zelikman raised a brow. "Oh, would you look at that! She speaks at last!"
Amram shot him a chiding look, which softened as he turned towards Ariadne.
"The Keepers of the Faith, you say?"
"The arms of Callinicus, the extension of his…the will of the Gods…"
Zelikman scoffed. "Most informative."
"I must beg your pardon, Miss Ariadne. My companion is not in the best of moods when he is forced to suppress his cravings."
Ariadne said nothing. She picked up a rose from the bouquet and stared at it.
Ignoring Zelikman's visible, and growing, frustration, Amram spoke.
"Forgive me, for I am not one to pry, but it does not appear to me that the prosperity of the village extends equally to all of its inhabitants. Or am I in the wrong?"
She lowered the rose. Her eyes returned to the flame.
"No, it does not."
"Well, if you would allow me some words verging on heresy, then I would be remiss to say that it is rather unfair of said Gods to leave you in squalor, all the while the rest of the village lives in a dignified manner. Would you not agree?"
Ariadne rose and faced Amram.
"What do you know about fair?"
"I was merely speaking my mind, Miss Ariadne, nothing more."
"Do not speak of what you do not know, for you do not know what it is like."
Zelikman harrumphed.
"Well, what is it then? You seem to have quite the tale bottled up. And I do hope it is better than your tailor ship." he pointed towards the, barely noticeable, stitches on his hat.
Amram could not admonish his companion in time. Ariadne had already begun.
"How could you know? To live your whole life on the brink of starvation, with a dry, mocking sea that dares not give but the most meager of spoils. To see your father and mother perish to the fickle whims of hunger and banditry. To be left alone, caring for your sibling, the last of your blood!"
She paused. Her expression grew conflicted. Nostalgic.
"And then, salvation. A man, his poor, cursed child, and his loyal followers, coming forth to breathe new life upon your dying village. I remember when they first arrived. I was but a child myself, carrying a newborn in her arms and he, a light that showed us that we were not forsaken..."
She stared at the rose in her hands. The ghost of a smile drew across her face.
"Years went on, and the blessings of the Gods began to bear their fruit. No longer were we at the mercy of nature's whims, with Callinicus and his Keepers delivering food and riches for us all. No longer were we taken advantage of by scoundrels, for the Keepers drove them away with their great strength, a blessing of the Gods. We rose from the ashes. We grew anew. It was a miracle…"
The smile disappeared. Tears welled in her eyes.
"However, it soon appeared that the good graces of the Gods were not without repay. Every year we hold a festival, a symbol of our gratitude, a showing to the heavens that we are deeply indebted and eternally faithful. Such must be our devotion that we would not hesitate to send our young, prematurely, into the glorious path to eternity."
Amram and Zelikman shared a look of concern during Ariadne's pause but said nothing. Ariadne's lip tightened, as did her grasp on the rose.
"No matter the blind cheers and smiles of my people, nor the blessings that kept us safe could do away with my greatest fear. It ate me away little by little, a paranoid thought that grew and grew, as did my disillusion on the man whom everyone else called savior. What had been looks of warmth soon became something else, betraying the piousness and celibacy he so floundered. Where everybody else saw an envoy of light, I soon discovered nothing more than a monster. How a kind soul like Demetrios came to be from someone such as he, I do not know, but as you can see, I am no stranger to the ironies of fate."
Tears dripped from her cheeks. Few petals remained on the rose, its stalk a brittle, broken stick.
"Years passed, and his grip on it all grew ever so stronger. I could do nothing. To reject his advances meant less food, less water, and no one would believe me, not even Demetrios. But all the hunger of the world meant little to me if she was to have all she needed."
She smiled and sobbed.
"She was my world, blinded by the faith as she may have been. She was everything to me. No matter how much I suffered, she was the one reason that kept me tethered to this earth, and he took her from me."
She threw the rose into the fire and fell to her knees, tears flowing.
"No one would believe me, no one would come to my aid, and he knew that, perfectly well. What odds were there after years of me rejecting such pious lust and advances?" she growled and whimpered. "I-I saw her leaving my grasp out of her own volition. I saw no fear or regret in her eyes as she entered that accursed cave. No matter how hard I screamed, she never looked back, not even when they sealed her in…and there he was; right there amidst the cheers and smiles, looking at me, basking in it all."
Ariadne huddled up to her knees in front of the crackling fire and sobbed. Zelikman gave Amram a look. Without a word, the Abyssinian stood up and went over to the crying woman.
"…We know what it is like," said Amram, his tone soft but resolute. "We are no strangers to loss and injustice. Such is the nature of life to give us an uneven ensemble of joys and tragedies, but it is also in the nature of life to give one a fighting chance, regardless of the odds."
Ariadne lifted herself and faced the Abyssinian.
"Did you not hear? What point is there to try the odds, when the Gods themselves are against you? How can you convince me of fighting back in a world where fate blesses wicked men with holy might, while their leader sends children into the afterlife, out of sickening whims and hurt pride?" she shouted. "If…if it weren't for Demetrios, I would have already walked out to die in that wasteland!"
Amram placed his hands on her shoulders. Ariadne flinched, but Amram's kind eyes, even in her hurt and betrayed state; she knew to be genuine, for, even after years of memory fading through pain, it was as if her father was back there with her, as if everyone sat together again in that humble, once happy abode.
"Then you can still do something about it."
"B-but how? How can I stand up to them? You have seen what they are capable of, what am I to do?"
"Amram?" asked Zelikman.
Amram sighed and let go of Ariadne.
"Yes, Zelikman?"
"How badly were we outnumbered during our robbery of that pompous Arabic horse breeder? Was it nineteen men to our modest two? I cannot seem to recall."
Amram pondered for a moment.
"Twenty to two it was," he frowned in thought and chuckled, "not counting the scoundrel that betrayed and led us right into the lion's den. Fled as soon as the first mercenary burst open like an overflowing wineskin."
Zelikman beamed.
"Not that we can blame the poor fellow! Such was the magnitude of your swipe that half the sell-swords fled in terror, and those that remained were shivering so that they tripped and fell over the freshly sharpened edges of their own blades," he cackled and wiped a tear. "Amusing certainly, but rather anticlimactic, in all honesty. For all the Arab's wealth, one would have thought he could have at least hired more experienced men to protect his precious stock."
"Indeed, very fortunate of him that we only had enough time to take away his prized duo and not the entire stable, was he not, Zelik…" Amram, realizing the crudeness of his and Zelikman's nostalgia, turned back and saw an open-mouthed Ariadne; her tears dried away, her sadness replaced by shock.
"I must beg your pardon, Miss Ariadne. Our sense of humor can verge on a tinge most…unusual for those uninitiated in the art of war and theft."
Zelikman nodded. "An acquired taste in hilarity indeed. Mostly in retrospect."
Amram shot a flat stare at his companion but Ariadne's mumblings brought back his attention.
"I…I…but…" she shook her head. "It matters not. Even if the far reaches of your adventures were to extend to the robbery of the vaults of the great emperor himself, pit against a hundred of his loyal guards, it would be nothing more than a futile endeavor. The very Gods, or whatever else, bless the Keepers. They are beyond the feats of mere fighting men and thieves. Far beyond the likes of me."
"A surprising amount of faith you hold onto these fellows it seems. Ironic, do you not agree?" Zelikman remarked, earning a look of disbelief from Amram and one of spite from Ariadne.
"Must you mock me so?"
Zelikman raised his hands in a calming gesture.
"I am merely a man of sharp wit-"
"Then keep it to yourself!" Ariadne shouted.
"Manners, dear, I trust even your pagan teachings uphold them in some regard, at the very least…," Zelikman groaned, "oh fine, I beg forgiveness for my insolence. There, can you now cease staring at me with that ridiculous look of yours?"
Amram grinned. "Of course, Zelikman. You may now proceed."
Zelikman huffed. "Anyway…where was I?"
"Your wit," Amram murmured.
Zelikman smirked and thanked him with a curt bow.
"Supposedly ´blessed´ as your ´keepers´ may be, they are still flesh and blood, for no matter how far in wood a man may cleave the blade of his axe, the hardened flesh falls to the ground just like any other. Or are elephants, the mightiest and most majestic of all creatures, completely impervious to the cold touch of steel?"
Ariadne lowered her head.
"I do suppose you make a good point, but regardless, how am I supposed to do anything about it? I am not nearly strong or agile enough to make a change through force alone, nor do my words hold any sway with the rest of the village."
Her face grew forlorn.
"I am no hero. That you should know well by now. Perhaps it is best you take whatever it is you want and let me be. I do not mind skipping meals as you can see. Who knows? Maybe it is time I doubt no longer, and drift off into the desert…maybe then will I finally see her again."
Amram frowned and gave Ariadne a reassuring pat on her shoulder.
"For someone so young, you place far too much pressure on yourself. Do you earnestly believe we would be half as prolific in our capers, were we to journey instead as solitary brigands?"
Zelikman huffed. "A preposterous thought," he winked at Ariadne, "he cannot live without me."
"The feeling is mutual," Amram shot back.
Ariadne blinked. "Are you saying that…you would help me?"
"We have been implying that quite strongly for some time now, dear, and we do have some unfinished business ourselves here as well. So the added weight of an altruistic act is but a pleasant byproduct, a mere coincidence brought upon—"
"We will," said Amram, interrupting Zelikman's wit. The Frank muttered something, which neither Amram nor Ariadne seemed to hear.
Ariadne's eyes flashed with a hope she had long thought dead, ever since the moment her sister disappeared into the depths of that accursed cave. However, as the light her sister once held, it flickered on and on, until finally, it disappeared once more.
"…But—"
Zelikman stood up, interrupting Ariadne's rebuttal.
"Shut up and listen to me. In this world, there are two kinds of people. Those that do, and those that do not, there are no in-betweens. Harsh is the way and though it is not something we can hope to change, we can either suffer from or work around it. Now, tell me, what sort are you? The one who lets others run over, or the one willing to fight back?"
Ariadne said nothing, taken aback by Zelikman's words. Moments passed as the Frank and the Abyssinian let the woman's troubled thoughts simmer. She turned around, sat down on the floor, and gazed towards the fireplace and the bouquet of roses lying beside it. The hut became silent, with nothing but the crackling sound of the flames filling the interiors.
Then, Ariadne raised herself and spoke.
"So be it."
Amram grinned and gave Zelikman a friendly bump on the shoulder.
"Quite the spokesman you were just now. Who knew you had it in you to be capable of such reassuring speech? If only you made it more of a habit rather than an oddity, perhaps then we would not have so many a trifles born of your sharp wit."
Zelikman pinched the bridge of his nose and sat down. "Do not test your good fortune, Amram; we are already pushing it far too much as it is. What with this little escapade of ours…"
"Come now, Zelikman, you said it yourself. Powerful yes, but no more than mere flesh and blood in the end. These so-called Keepers are nothing some amount of planning, subterfuge, trickery, and an underhanded attack or two, cannot solve, given the right circumstances," Amram gave Ariadne a mischievous yet kind look.
"Circumstances?" said Ariadne.
"You have lived here for most of your life, have you not?" said Amram.
"Yes?"
"And how long have we before the finale of your village's festival?"
"…A week from now."
Amram smiled and looked at Zelikman.
"Speaking of good fortune."
Zelikman rolled his eyes.
"I keep telling you, Amram. We will die at this rate."
"Ever the bright-eyed one, eh Zelikman?" said Amram. "No matter, if it is fortune's will to shine brightly upon us, then who are we to spurn its blessings? Or is chance itself yet another vile, pagan deity we must beware of?"
"What on earth do you plan to do?" said Ariadne, interrupting Zelikman before he could reply.
Amram clapped his hands.
"Take back what we rightfully stole, steal whatever other riches we may come across, and give a wondrous ´parting gift´ to this ´grand savior´ your people hold in such high regard."
"That is, of course, if we do not die trying," Zelikman reiterated.
Amram chuckled. "You see, death is no stranger to us. When you fear not the worst, then all sorts of paths and possibilities open up before you. That is, paths meant only for those boldest and brave."
Ariadne blinked twice, before squinting her eyes with light suspicion.
"Who are you really?"
Amram and Zelikman shared a look and smiled. In a pair of swift movements, the Frank and the Abyssinian revealed their concealed weapons, axe and lancet, and placed them over the table, as casually as one would a set of kitchen silverware for an otherwise average, ordinary, everyday supper.
Ariadne, her mouth agape in disbelief, could only stutter as she attempted to explain to herself how such items could have remained hidden for so long, in the light of day no less, for not a pair of eyes in the entire village had raised hand nor creased a brow at the duo. In response to her mumblings, however, she received only one response, told in unison.
"But a pair of swindlers!"