Horsemen of the Apocalypse: The Beginning

Chapter 5: Famine

Chapter 5: Famine

"When the Lamb opened the third seal, I heard the third living creature say, "Come and see!" I looked, and there before me was a black horse! Its rider was holding a pair of scales in his hand. Then I heard what sounded like a voice among the four living creatures, saying, "A quart of wheat for a day's wages, and three quarts of barley for a day's wages, and do not damage the oil and the wine!"

- Revelation 6:5-6˄ NIV

Kaffa was once a deeply rich and fertile land. Quite the contrast to its northern desert neighbor. Gently embraced by mountains, rolling fields could be cultivated, livestock would flourish and the people of the land could thrive. Even though the peasants paid a large portion of their harvest to the nobles, with three crops a year grown, enough could be saved to sustain the populous.

Bells rang out into the clear noon sky. Crops had long ago shriveled up and died, much as the people were doing now. Praying for rain, waiting to die. Townsfolk lined up wearily under the beating sun to purchase their rations of grain. Nutritional wheat, or the more filling barley. For the poor, this was the way of life these days. The rich ate nurturing foods, drunk on wine, while the less fortunate toiled in the fields to earn enough to be full, or die hungry. The once fertile fields no longer gave forth the fruits of their labor. The trees had long ago shed the last of their fruit. Taxes were grueling, the cost of food was even more painful. It all started when HE came to town. At least that was the story they told.

A sickly, thin looking man stood on a raised platform in the town square "A quart of wheat or three quarts of barley for a days wages." Esurio stated. "Make your choice and move on."

His fragile frame displaying his skeletal structure as if he were a buried mummy come to life. Dark rings complimented deep sunken eyes. Dark leathery skin threatened to tear at the slightest twist as if it were a canvas stretched across his frame. Long, thin bony fingers, resembling twigs of a tree, crackled and snapped as he gripped a jar to dip into the grains being sold to the lower class. Hunched over in a brown wool robe, this man, or monster, was quite a terrifying sight.

Esurio returned to his seat among the nobles. Bones crackled as he pointed a bony finger to an elderly man standing slightly behind him holding a bag of grain.

"Serve only what they pay for and not a seed more. Insolence will be paid for with what's left of your pathetic life."

"A worthy price to pay to end this misery." The old man grumbled quietly. Every day alive was torturous.

****

"Please, I beg of you. Go call on the man I need...if he is still a man."

"No! You can't do this to us! To me!"

"Ssshhh! Keep your voice down. He'll hear you. It must be done and not by my own hand, or yours. We've discussed this before. I'm tired..."

A small boy barely ten years of age slipped his hand into that of his mothers. Despite their best efforts to keep their decision from him, he knew. For several nights now, after the light of the candle burned low and snuffed out, his parents had discussed which of them would go. On those same nights he snuck out of his room to listen and quietly shed tears for what they all knew must be done. There simply was not enough to eat as there was before the dark man came to their lands. The other boys whispered and townsfolk rumored of those whom had called upon one of their own that was willing to do what they themselves could not...

Take a life to give hope of a life.

The boys mother jumped with a start as she felt the soft touch of her son beside her. Tears streamed down her worn face, betraying her youth with ill gotten age of stress. His father stiffened slightly. Both were well aware that he'd heard too much already.