Night Ride
The travelers followed the high pasture trail until the sun dropped behind the mountains. Subinyá led the way into the twilight. He rode these trails all his life, and the horse was no stranger to the path. When the stars and moon appeared above, they had plenty of light to see the ground and the land beyond.
Amir relaxed in the solitude and cold air, mesmerized by the clop-clop of the horses and the squeak of worn leather from the saddles. “Uncle, do you think the judge would try to force me to become a martyr for his battle for power?”
“If he finds you, you are a dead man, whether or not you choose to be martyred.”
“I’ll never give in to his corruption.”
“You cannot sit idly by and watch your culture, your heritage, the blood and sweat of your ancestors wasted by the greed of these men. It would be best if you fought them. Better you die fighting iniquity than in your bed, a weak and frightened man.”
The men halted to rest and water the horses. Sitting on an outcrop above the valley below, chewing on flatbread and goat cheese, Subinyá continued to explain the hard choice Amir had to make.
“Is that why you fought in the Civil War as a cavalryman?”
“I was young like you. We had nothing, no money, only the work we put into the sheep and our garden. When the foreigners came, they took everything for themselves and left us to starve. We might have let it be, but they also took our women and children and destroyed our temple. This insult was intolerable.”
“I read in school that the calvary was unbeatable. Your need for vengeance must have been powerful,” Amir said.
“We were unbeatable because we were not corrupt or weak with sins of pleasure and greed, like our enemy. We did not fight them for vengeance, but our liberty and honor.”
Amir remained quiet as he considered everything his uncle had told him. He saw two paths. One led to a life of hiding and avoiding attachments or the accumulation of property, and the other led to suffering he could not imagine.
“Would you hate me if I left this place to start a life elsewhere?”
“You are free to do as you please, boy. Remember that every decision, good or bad, comes with a price and consequences.”
Uncle Subinyá mounted his horse and scanned the countryside while Amir caught up to him. Amir saw an honorable man and considered whether he could fill his uncle’s shoes in the future.
At daybreak, under a dusty red sky, Amir opened the gate to the courtyard in the back of his parent’s home. They tied the horses to a railing under the shed roof and put on their feed bags while they brushed them down. Amir’s mother came out and fussed over Amir in front of Uncle Subinyá, embarassing the young boy as she smothered him with kisses.
In this scene, Amir’s uncle tells the boy bluntly what his future looks like and encourages him to face his fate with honor. Uncle Subinyá will set the stage for Amir’s reluctant journey. Have you faced such a choice with good advice from your elders?
This story will continue to present in its raw form straight from my fingers to the page. It’s a stream of consciousness informed by my own life experiences. I have edited for grammar, spelling, and punctuation with a soft touch. The sin of passive voice is still there in some sentences as well as other grievous errors.
I lived in several Islamic Nations where my presence was barely tolerated and in some cases, not at all. But, in absorbing myself in their history and culture, I found a remarkable human experience. Pieces of those memories and people are found throughout the story, although it is a complete work of fiction.
Hyperion Sky 
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