The Waste (X)

The villagers waited out the impossibly long pause in Allamar’s speech.

The sun bore down on patient brows, its insistence drawing beads of perspiration from calm onlookers.

After long seconds of intense stillness, breath barely noted among the close-pressed villagers, Allamar reached towards his own chest.

The crowd drew in a tiny collective breath, as Allamar reached beneath his shirt, and from a concealed pocket, pulled forth and displayed between his thumb and forefinger, a shiny, silver ring.

“What is it?

“What is that for?”

“Hmmmmm?”

“But, but, why…”

The crowd sputtered out hushed interogatives.

“I am invoking the right to create a new law of succession.  And this law, according to the village code, does not supercede that already in existence.  Instead, please consider this an augmentation.”

The villagers waited, all eyes eagerly focused in Allamars direction, and all ears tuned towards his next words.

“As you know, my wife Zara and I do not have a son.  We have our wonderful daughter Abigail.”

Murmurs fluttered like butterflies through the crowd.

“This new adjustment to the village rules, therefore, directly relates to my unique family situation. ”

At this, Allamar turned around, his back facing the village.  He lowered himself slowly into the watery pen, his lower body splashing into the azure liquid as the fish hurriedly shot away from him.

He waded toward his catch. The colossal sea creature did not dart at his approach, appearing to acquiesce to the fisherman who impossibly managed its capture.  The scaly beast languidly flitted in the water as Allamar approached.  Allamar made a subtle motion with the fingers that held the silver ring, then reached towards the dorsal fin atop the giant fish.

Allamar’s epic catch quivered as he pierced the fishes protrusion with the ring, then calmed as he permanently secured seemingly whole band with an obscured clasp to to the fin of the great fish.

Allamar waded back to the wall of the enclosure as the crowd gaped.  He scrambled up the slippery wall of the pen, and re-acquainted himself with his semi-circle of wooden-slated space before the crowd.

“As I have stated, and though we have tried, Zara and I have only our daughter Abigail.”

“The current laws would allow me to pass succession on to a son.  It does not seem that for our family, a son will be in our families future.”

“I cherish my daughter, and know that the man who is worthy of her hand, must certainly be capable of incredible feats, including those that would be performed by a skilled fisherman.”

The predominantly exhibited expression upon the villagers was that of a blank stare.

“Therefore, it is my wish that a new law be enacted, supplementing those that currently exist.  Thusly, is this new law stated.  This, most spectacular of sea creatures, has been tagged with an ornate silver ring.  This fish will be released into the wild waters on the morrow.  The man who is able to catch this fish, thus also securing the ring affixed to its fin, shall have my daughter for his wife.  As wedded familial male successor,  he will then succeed as the next village chief. ”

Several simultaneous shrill sounds that sounded like female shrieks speared the air.

Allamar surveyed the crowd, and saw mixed reactions that ranged from puzzlement, to pure stoicism, to mild curiosity, to strange excitement, to confusion, to casual acceptance, and, to other, quite undefinable reactions that he could not determine from his vantage.

The sound of birds rustling in the trees sent heads searching for their source, temporarily diverting the attention of the villagers towards the greenery at the fringe of the pen.

Allamar stepped forward towards the crowd, who parted for him, apprehensively.

He walked towards his newly appointed home, brushing elbows with his fellow villagers as he navigated the broader, yet enigmatically charged corridor.

Allamar neared the outer edge of the crowd of the villagers over whom he had now become chief.  He felt a strong jerk at his left elbow, looked towards the source of the momentum stopping intrusion, and smiled at his wife’s pull at his arm.  His vision sought more deeply into the crowd towards the tightly gripped fingers of his wife’s left hand in the hand of his beautiful daughter.  His smile wavered at the visage he witnessed upon after the connected arm that pointed towards his daughter face. He saw shock, sadness, and disappointment.