Beginning around noon the next day, the entire village enjoyed exquisite food the likes of which many of the citizens had never tasted.  No one could offer a plausible explanation regarding the source of a majority of the ingredients, for the elements of these recipes were not consistent with the villagers normal fare.  Allamar postulated that once the measurement of the great fish had occurred,  the former chief, perhaps with the knowledge that he would likely not long be commanding such dutiful scavengers, nor, perhaps looking forward to having much limited access to delicacies,  hastily dispatched several of the merchants with directions to procure rare and unique victuals.  Allamar did not allow himself to be bothered by an act that he knew to only be momentary intrusion on his impending leadership responsibilities.  He was aware, after all, that he was quite unaccustomed to ceremony.  He worried only that among the dishes, there would be one consisting of the flesh of a great fish.  But as he had appointed several of his closest friends to guard the massive catch during the festivities as it swam in the pen, he had little cause for stress.  Whether his detractor had learned through their previous thwarting, or whether they decided to acquiesce wholy to Allamars edict, the subject of his great catch never reached his ears, nor did any villager approach the pen but to relieve the previous watch. 

For most of the villagers there was considerable puzzlement regarding these offerings, as these dishes made from strange ingredients appeared on tables placed for the celebration in the common areas of the village. The villagers tenuously approached the large platters, then, having nibbled cautiously, and finding the recipes pleasing to their palates, heaped large portions upon their plates.  Once the hunger of the masses had been sated, unique, colorful, libations, in large glasses and carafes, floated toward the tables atop large platters.  The happy-bellied villagers, no longer apprehensive about new curiosities, imbibed with fervor.  Having been properly fed, then provided with flavorful and intoxicating beverage, many of the village found themselves, blissful, giddy, and euphoric. 

Lively energetic music didn’t exactly follow the libations, rather, it seemed to appear simultaneously, carried out by instruments the villagers were not accustomed to hearing.   And, as the music played, the mirth-inducing liquids continued to flow.  The villagers followed their copious amounts of drink with vigorous dance and robust levels of conversation. Then came storytelling, and history lessons, many of both exaggerated and enhanced by the heightened moods and diminished inhibitions.  The afternoon passed by in a blissful haze. When the yellows of the sun began their transition to oranges and red, the tables once more found themselves laden with delectable victuals. 

Then came more trays of inhibition reducing drink, more delicious food, then even more drinks.  

In the throes of jubilation, fueled by delicacies, drink, and drumbeats, darkness threw her blanket over the passionate coupling of man and indulgence, turning the corporeal celebration to shades as the torches and pits around the village were lit by those less moved by dance and more by caretaking. 

As the celebration moved into late evening, dances whose last execution most of the village could not recall, were executed by lithe, energetic individuals.  Some of the older villagers looked around for the teachers of these archaic gesticulations, wondering who might have been the secret tutor.  Finding no willing conspirator in their midst, several of the older villagers acquiesced, and joined in with the younger generations of the village.    

The moon shone bright, and prominent in the sky, and the festivities continued.   Eventually, the intensity of celebration led to fatigue, and the village retired.   

The next day, at approximately noon, the celebrations resumed. 

As the festivities occurred, the former chief, and his entourage, moved out of the largest of huts in the village, and into a more modest accommodation. Once they had completely vacated, Allamar, Zara, and Abigail, with no assistance or escort, moved into their new abode.

The festivities in the village continued until their close at the end of three days, whereby, and with no citation of a specific village code or dictation, there was a mutual understanding that it was time to stop celebrating.  The level of exhilaration, heightened by food, music, entertainment, and irregularity, faded into normality.

Allamar woke early on a particularly bright and crisp morning after the three days of giddy commemoration.  He placed a warm, tender kiss on the forehead of his wife, who slumbered deeply beside him, then rose slowly, as to not disturb Zara. He dressed as quietly as he could, then pawed his way along the walls of his new dwelling towards Abigail’s room.  She still slumbered as well, so he gently reached out and stroked her forehead with backs of the fingertips of his strong right hand.  She shifted slightly, and he stopped when his skin touched the hair just above her ear.  He drew back his hand, and smiled. 

Allamar caught the earliest of the fisherman at the docks as they checked their rigging, nets, and rods.  They eyed him with wariness and curiosity as he approached, wondering why their compatriot, and now, new chief would be seeking out duties for which he no longer had any responsibility.  

“Friends, may I ask a favor of you?” Allamar stated. 

The oldest-looking of the group, perhaps looking for a bit of reprieve from the sail, or simply answering the call, answered quickly

“Of course Allamar.  There are but five of us here, but I’m sure we would be happy to assist our new leader.” 

“It is but a small thing, I assure you.”

“Go ahead,” Gallious stated. 

“I ask that you delay your endeavors for a short time.  Return to your homes, rouse your families, and spread the word throughout the village that I will meet them at the pen in two hours.”

A gangly youth, who Allamar recognized as a newly appointed, yet clearly ambitious fisherman named Willem, squawked, “Such an odd request!” 

“This is the new chief!” Gallious barked.  “And one who, in the very recent past, sailed right along side of us.  Though it may be a strange request, we will honor it nonetheless.”

Willem, properly castigated, hung his head in silence. 

Gallious commanded the men with authority, “Come on, men. Tie ’em up!”  

Allamar stood at the docks while the fisherman walked away towards the village.  He was sure they would carry out their task.  Allamar was so confident, that he didn’t even need to look back in their direction as he strode towards his craft, anxious to sail, and to calm his nerves before what was to soon to come.