A Quarrel Of Divinity and Impiety  by Mirza Copi

A demon places a sharp sabre in his hand, An angel gently whispers words of reassurance. The pain he feels is equal to having a dagger pierce his heart, the angel wants to take it out while the demon wishes to push it in further. Since he lost her nothing has been the same, he oscillates from melancholy to a furious rage that swallows him whole. This leaves his soul barren like a desert, an almost perfect ground for the deities to do battle. “Slay him and be done with it,” the demon says in a haughty tone.

“Taking a man’s life will haunt you for the rest of your days” the angel tries to reason with him. The man closes his eyes and remembers his mother laying on her deathbed firmly clenching onto the cross her father carved out of a solid piece of the chestnut tree she would climb frequently in her youth. She had passed without uttering a single word to her son, the only person who stayed by her side in the end. If he was not so wrathful he would even shed a tear for her. The angel feels his pain, the devil sees a force he can harness.

“Have you forgotten her cheek?” the demon asks, “ How it was so bruised and blue and even though it hurt you more than a thousand lashes to the back you did damn all”. The man’s betrothed was given away by her father to an affluent young man who comes from a long line of horse breeders. She is thin and beautiful like a birch tree, a soft-spoken beauty. They had fallen in love at the spring where cold water poured. He was a quiet man, never one to speak when not needed. She said the first word and he fell in love.

He made her a promise that he would protect her till his last breath, a promise he intends to honour. “ The lord knows how much punishment a soul can endure, “ The angel says. “ Climb your steed and punish him yourself” the demon adds. With ease, he could crush him, even if he hasn’t had a decent meal in a fortnight he could still pick him up by the throat and throw him like nothing. The czar’s men would be after him, he could evade them by hiding in the mountains. He would make a widow out of her, a fate worse than death.

She had no choice in leaving him, four men surrounded her while she was washing clothes in a pond. They explained how easily a thatched roof can catch fire and God forbid that the man she loves finds himself in bed sleeping soundly. She lied to him that her father had the final word on the matter and that he forbade them from seeing each other. He had no one to turn to, his mother the only friend he had passed already, all he had now was flagons of bitter spirits and a headful of self-destructive and resentful thoughts.

The demon came first, he listened eagerly. She never loved him, it said, why should he suffer over someone who had no place for him in her heart? Her whole heart belonged to him and he had no clue how far she would go to protect him. Surrendering herself to a monster so that no harm would come to him. It spoke to him the entire night, corrupting his soul with each word, he would forget her and find another to call his wife. As he laid in his bed with his eyes closed her face was the only thing he saw all night long.

In the morning when the sun came up, at the foot of his bed he saw a strange glow and a serene voice trying to speak to him. “ Have faith in God and all your troubles will wither away like an unwatered flower” the angel said. The demon came closer and whispered into his keen ear, “If faith made men happy then all the priests of the world would go on singing and dancing”. “Faith is a clever lie desperate men tell themselves so that they don’t end up with a noose around their necks,” the demon says with a grin.

“When a man does for a time lose his strength to carry on, faith is the only thing that can make him step off the stool and untie the rope” the angel counters. The two spirits follow him as he walks around his humble abode, he is a poor man with an almost empty larder. What kind of life could he have given her in a house with three rooms and not enough coin to buy a single sack of flour, a life of misery and hardship he thinks? With him at least she won’t have to worry about going to bed hungry.

He bought a heavy charger with the little coin he had from working with his cousin. On the day of their wedding, he would make her ride the horse while he walked next to her. With his sharp sword by his side, he climbs his steed and rides off hastily. Neither the demon nor the angel knows where he is headed. “Imagine cutting him down, what satisfaction that would bring just to watch him die,” the demon says. “Murder is the biggest sin of all, and your heart is too pure to take a man’s life” the angel tries to coax him not to make a terrible mistake.

Neither spirit can affect the decision he is going to make, he will not heed to the voice of immorality nor the one of virtue. The only thing he knows for sure is how dearly he loves her, he could care less what happens to him as long as she is far from harm’s way. That promise he made her will be kept even if he has to spend an eternity in hell. The demon feels his anger slowly diminish, the angel is sure he is on the right path. He implores his gentle charger to run as fast as its strong legs can endure.

The ride for hours, ignoring both spirits the man only speaks to his trustworthy horse and the only thing his ears listen to is the horse’s hoof striking the ground. Soon he arrives at his cousin’s farmstead, he is the closest thing to a brother he ever had. A once ferocious and feared mercenary who left his sword and bloodthirst to raise a family far from the lands he once pillaged. While his cousin was taking lives he would stay back building the fortifications. Quickly he moved up the ranks and had over two hundred armed men at his command.

He never saw his cousin take a man’s life but from the stories he heard he could take a man’s head off with a single swing of his great axe. This along with his massive stature and physical strength and the many powerful friends he made while waging war, make him a man only few would have the courage to cross. However, since the birth of his daughter, he became a gentler man who even watches his step around fields that have anthills. The man he once was he left behind on the battlefield to rot with the rest of the corpses.

He sees his cousin lying on the ground hammering a scythe while eating dried plums. The man was one of the biggest and heftiest men his village ever raised. And still, his cousin manages to pick him up like a child. They embrace as true brothers would. Admiring his charger the two cousins reminisce on the days when their grandfather taught them to ride on the back of a sickly mule. Under the shade of a chestnut tree, they share a meal together. As they eat he tells his cousin what happened to his betrothed.

His cousin was outraged that someone would dare insult his kin in such a way. This insult can not go unpunished, he will send word to some powerful men he used to work with, most will forget his service but a number will bestow some kind of support. While his cousin prepares for the upcoming battle, he takes his little niece’s hand and she takes him to pick daisies in a nearby field. He places a single daisy behind her tiny ear she smiles and behind her he sees his cousin holding a battle axe the size of some men.

A single stray arrow and this little child would grow up without a father, how many little girls would grow up fatherless because of him. He climbs his steed and says to his cousin “ Leave it, climb your horse this isn’t your fight my dear cousin”. They ride off with great speed, along the way he tells his cousin what he intends to carry out. “ I ask of you cousin one thing, protect her like you would me”, his cousin resents his plan and still swears that she will be safe under his protection.

They arrive at a stud farm large in size with a number of horses grazing outside, he sees her knitting a bootee. The brief eye contact they make is rudely interrupted by the laughter of a man who thinks highly of himself. “ Have you come to envy the man who has everything you ever wanted, a high place in society and a lovely wife?” he asks the man with a sharp sword by his side. He unsheathe his blade, “ Careful now you wouldn’t want to draw blood in front of a pregnant woman” the man says with a grin on his smug face.

The two men slowly approach each other, seeing how big his opponent is, like a true coward he whistles to alert his brothers to come to his rescue. “ Grab her “ he yells to his cousin, his cousin pulls her by the hand and throws her onto his horse. “ Wait until my brothers come and then we shall see what happens”, “ A thousand men could stand in front of you and I will still get my hands around your neck”. With each step, the man takes the whistling gets louder. It finally stops when they meet face to face.

Taking off his baldric he starts violently hitting him. With every swing, he hears the demon louder. Throwing him to the ground he beats the man to a pulp, wrapping his hands around his neck he almost feels the life escaping from the man’s eyes. “ Press harder, he doesn’t deserve to breathe any longer” the demon encourages him to take his life. The angel tries to speak to him but to no avail, the demon is far too loud. He only stopped once he heard her scream, turning around he saw her crying while his cousin held her back.

“Find her a good man, a man who will care for her, “ he tells his cousin as they ride off. The sight of her tears and her long hair waving in the wind breaks his heart. The best thing that ever happened was the thirst he felt that day and the need to stop by that cold spring. For if he wandered back home and drank the water from his well he would have never met the joy of his life. To imagine that once he held her so tight made even the bad days forgettable and insignificant.

Grabbing his dew-covered blade from the ground he lifts it over the scoundrel. If he takes his life an all-out war would break out between the dead man’s brothers and his cousin. So many lives would be lost over a worthless speck of a man. He goes to lower his sword but hears him laugh, with two hard swings of his sword he takes both his hands off. A just punishment for the grief he caused him and the woman he loves. Blood starts gushing out, a horrific sight that makes him uneasy. He escapes the farm before his brothers come.

He feels parched and knows from what source he shall drink from. Tying his horse to a birch tree he gives it a kiss and thanks the animal profoundly. Following the source of the water up a small path in a dense forest he ends up at the very source of the water. He kneels over the water, washing his bloody face and taking a long look at his reflection in the clear water. Pulling out his sabre he presses the edge to his wrist. The demon and the angel both know that they have lost. Slitting both his wrists he puts them under the cold water to stop the pain. And in his final moments as he bleeds into the water he closes his eyes thinking of her.

Mirza Copi

Image: Pixabay.com – Red sunset with beams through the clouds and a dark landscape.