Be It Man or Beast
Short Story Break
I enjoy writing flash fiction every now and then. The prompts are a great way to explore creativity and the time constraints are always good reminders that you can write something if you just sit down and write. My prompt for this story was to write a drama at a trading post, featuring a fireplace. The story took a turn I wasn’t planning on, but it came out as something true to me. I hope you enjoy!
Be It Man or Beast
By: Elise Posledni
Nate saw the cloud of dust on the horizon long before Daryl and his wagon team came into view. Scowling, he crossed through the yard as the wind picked up. A change of seasons was coming. The draft horses he used for turning the mill were comfortably dozing in the sun – their sleek hides shining with health. On the other side of the open yard, the horses he kept stocked for trade shifted in the paddock as a moving rainbow of bays, palominos, and paints.
The wagon road was tough on traveling families and traders alike. The horses, especially, suffered from the arduous landscape. Not only was it his job to provide respite for weary travelers, his trading post provided much needed foodstuffs, tools, and even fresh horses to help with their journey.
Nate spat into the dirt as Daryl pulled his two-horse wagon into the yard and clambered stiffly out. The two brothers were of equal height and build — both lean, but tough and browned as leather from the harsh weather of the plains. They even had the same dark hair and wild beard.
As far as Nate was concerned though, this is where their similarities stopped. He refused to take his brother’s hand as he surveyed the state of the horses. When they had left mere months ago, the two bay geldings had been sleek with muscle and eager to work. Now, they stood with their heads low, eyes dull. Welts from the whip were raised on their thin, dusty hides and their poor hooves were so cracked that walking down the rocky wagon road must have been agony.
“Cold wind coming down from the mountains tonight, eh, brother?” Daryl asked as he rubbed his hands together. “I’ll have to make a quick turnaround if I’m to make it through the pass before winter strikes. I’m already ahead of schedule thanks to these two beasts of yours.”
Daryl clapped a hand on the nearest horse’s hindquarters. The horse flinched. Nate ground his teeth as he surveyed the animals with his arms crossed.
“Boy! Come and care for these horses,” Nate yelled abruptly enough that his brother jumped. The stable boy that had been lurking in the hay shed came dashing into the yard. The young boy frowned at the state of the horses and met Nate’s eyes in mutual understanding. “Take them to the stables, not the paddocks. Extra hay. And some oats,” Nate instructed in an undertone.
He then turned to his brother with a grim smile. “Come inside and get warm,” he ushered cordially towards the house. Daryl cast him a wary glance as they strode together for the front door, but Nate only shook his head in disappointment. Inside, a large fire roared in the stone hearth of the kitchen in welcome.
“It feels good to be warm, eh?” Nate asked, his voice as sweet and smooth as the whiskey he poured for his brother as he sat down.
“Aye, it does,” Daryl replied as he toed off his boots and hung up his jacket, oblivious to his brother’s anger. He sniffed hopefully at the kettle hanging over the flames.
“I’m sure you’re starving after so many days spent traveling,” Nate continued as he pulled bowls from the shelf. His voice remained honey-sweet, but his face was dark as a thundercloud. “And your shoes,” he added, nodding towards the split leather, “You’ll be wanting a new pairs of boots while you’re here as well?”
Daryl nodded suspiciously, finally catching on to his brother’s mood.
Nate took bowls down from the shelf and instead of ladling in the bubbling stew from the fire, approached his brother at the table and slammed the empty bowls so they were upside down in front of him. Snatching the still full glass of whiskey from Daryl’s grasp, Nate then strode to the hearth and poured it straight into the fire. The flames leapt and spit angrily as Daryl yelled in outage. Choking smoke filled the room as Nate tipped the stew to douse the burning logs.
“Is this about the horses again?” Daryl spluttered and coughed at the smoke.
“I warned you last time, brother, not to ill use them so,” Nate growled. “Why should you be resting, warm and with a full belly, while they are aching and starving? I have half a mind to beat you as well, to see if the whip would leave a better impression on you as it did those poor beasts.”
“They are just animals!” Daryl spat. Without the fire in the hearth, the room was already getting colder.
“Where do you draw the line then?” Nate asked. “Aren’t we also just animals?”
“That’s different,” Daryl ground out. “You know I would never mistreat man, woman, or child in my care.”
“Did I not just prove to you that it is no different?” Nate roared as he gestured around the cold, smoky room with the empty bowls on the table and the cracked boots in the corner.
“We are all just animals, be it man or horse, dog or goat,” Nate continued. “It is a mark of a man’s character how he treats both man and beast. And your character, brother, I find lacking.”
Daryl’s eyes were wounded when he met Nate’s stare across the smoky room, but his face remained a harsh mask of indignation. Nate strode over and opened the door. He gestured around the room again. “I leave you to what you deserve. I’m going to check on the horses.”
Outside, the night breeze worked to cool Nate’s temper. He entered the stables to see the stable boy sleeping in the straw next to the two bay geldings, which were eating hay with appetite. Nate shook out a wool blanket and draped it gently across the stable hand as he slept. Turning to the horses, he met their kind, soulful eyes and stroked one softly on the neck.
The barn door suddenly creaked open and Nate turned around in alarm. Daryl was in the doorway with a cloth bundle in his hands. For several long moments, the two brothers remained locked in a tense standstill.
Then, without a word, Daryl walked past his brother to the horses. He unwrapped the bundle and Nate saw that it contained the wound salve he always kept stored in the kitchen pantry. Daryl murmured to the horses, too low for Nate to hear, as he knelt in the straw to care for the wounds his thoughtlessness had caused. Nate hesitated briefly before he clapped his brother on the shoulder and crouched down to help.