If there was one thing Ah'ana feared most, it was losing her husband, Malo, to the dangers of his work. She stood outside her hut, breathing deeply, as the orange glow of the setting sun bathed her village in warmth and enviable beauty.
Husbands had returned home, some from their farms, others from hunting and fishing. Families lounged around huts, chatting and laughing as children ran in circles, playing.
“How hard is it to fish? He should be back by now,” she fumed inwardly, pacing around her hut.
His fellow fishermen had returned hours ago from the Laptev sea that bordered their quiet coastal village. She feared Malo might not return home one day and she'd be widowed.
“Not today please,” she whispered when she heard voices rising from afar. She rushed outside to see Malo walking towards her flanked by two other fishermen.
She ran towards them and stopped halfway.
Malo was still in his damp fishing clothes. He often changed into dry ones before coming home. What got her attention more was what he cradled in his big arms. A small bundle.
His fishing bag and nets were lugged by another man. He drew close to her with a smile, his eyes misty.
What was he carrying? The way he held the bundle…with so much care. Could it….?
“Malo?”
“Ah'ana, we….we have a baby,” he said softly. The other fishermen smiled, nodding just as a few women joined their crowd.
She froze in shock. Surely she was dreaming. She'd wanted to birth their children with her body, not watch her husband bring home a child from who knows where.
The women began to sing and dance around them while the men clapped Malo on the shoulders.
“How? Tell me.” She asked as her tears fell.
“A wrecked ship washed ashore. We found a wounded man inside. He was the last treasurer of a warring kingdom beyond the sea. His crew were already dead except for this child. He's the surviving heir to the throne and there are those who want him dead. I swore, Ah'ana.”
Ah'ana covered her mouth, stunned by the strange tale. “What, Malo? What did you promise?”
“I swore to protect this child with my life and when he's grown, he'll go back to reclaim the throne and his kingdom. I couldn't say no.”
“Oh, Malo. What about the man? Where is he?”
Malo gazed down solemnly. “He died right after. This is our child now.”
“True. We are witnesses and swore to protect the child too,” Gunjo, one of the fishermen, added with pride.
Maybe this was the gods' way of blessing them with a child. She sniffed, gently lifting the thick cloth to peek at the sleeping baby. “He's beautiful - our treasure.”
Malo exhaled with relief. He gently handed her the baby as more people joined them in the celebration.
Though unexpected, life had chosen a most uncanny way to bless them with a child.
I hope you enjoyed reading this short piece. It's inspired by the Freewrite #dailyprompt phrase "the last treasurer".
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