Ten Goat Wife

  Antonius had to control himself as he led his three goats down the dusty path. This was a joyous day, one he’d anticipated for months, and now that it was here, he found it difficult to contain his excitement. But he had business dealings with many in the village, and did not want to be seen as a fool, so he kept the grin from his lips and the skip from his step. 

  Soon, he saw his destination. A three-wide hut, roofed with the finest of thatching. It was one of the largest homesteads in the village. Impressive as it was, the hut was dwarfed by the structure behind it. A squat, expansive building, with smokestacks jutting from the roof, belching white smoke into the sky. Using mud mixed with the sap from the Yim Yam tree, the name of the structure was scrawled across its front. Prythos Family Python Factory. 

  Antonius stopped outside the hut and tied the goats to a post. They bleated at him, and he glared in return. He’d never cared for the animals and would be glad to be rid of them. Turning away, he approached the door and knocked. An ancient woman opened the door, back bent at an alarming angle, gnarled by the cruel passage of time. She wore the traditional garments of a house servant. It seemed a chore for her to lift her head high enough to meet his eyes, so Antonius knelt. 

  “Greetings,” Antonius said. “I come with a business proposal for the master of the hut.” 

  The woman grunted, then shuffled out of the way, leaving the door ajar. With an uncertain step, Antonius entered. The ancient woman made her way down a claustrophobic servants' passage, giving no indication of what Antonius was to do. Glancing around, he noticed a lavish sitting room and stepped into it. A low table made of the finest woods dominated the room, and bright pillows surrounded it. Antonius seated himself upon one of the pillows and waited, hoping he wasn’t committing some unknown faux pas by doing so.  

  Growing more uncomfortable by the minute, he busied himself by examining the finery in the room. Each wall was decorated with shimmering tapestries. All but one. The far wall was made up of latticework, and squinting, Antonius thought he could see movement behind it. 

  “I hear you come with a business proposal,” a voice said from behind him. 

  The voice was the perfect mix of power and warmth, and Antonius jumped to his feet and turned. The master of this hut was known to be shrewd, but he carried himself with an ease of movement and a smile, a disarming combination. A carefully kept beard, recently oiled, hung from his face. 

  “Mr. Prythos, thank you for agreeing to see me on this glorious day,” Antonius said, bowing. 

  “Please, call me Colton. Formality disturbs me.” 

  “I…uh…” Antonius sputtered. It was normally seen as a sign of disrespect to call one’s betters by their first name. He watched as Colton rounded the table. The man sat, then with a gesture, commanded Antonius to sit. 

  “Sir… um… Colton,” Antonius said as he sat. “My name is-” 

  “You are Antonius Blargh, renowned alfalfa merchant,” Colton interrupted, smiling at the surprise on his guest’s face. “I make it a point to know all who do business in this region, especially those who do it well.” 

  Despite himself, Antonius grinned. 

  “You think I do business well?”

  “Of course,” Colton said with a nod. “Many in the bazaar call you the Sultan of Alfalfa.” 

  Now Antonius was beaming. Alfalfa was his life, and he found it difficult to get feedback from anyone who purchased it from him. 

  “I would be thrilled to know which of the merchants say this of me,” he said. 

  The smile slowly slipped from Colton’s face, and his eyes narrowed. He let out a quick sigh. 

  “Eh, it is just a thing I made up. I did not expect you to press me for details. Perhaps one day they will call you this; how could I know?” 

  Antonius’ smile slipped also. Movement behind the lattice caught his eye, and he again tried to identify what might be back there.

  “Why are you in my hut, Antonius?” Colton asked. 

  Taking a moment to get his mind back on the business at hand, Antonius took a deep breath. It was time for negotiation, something the Sultan of Alfalfa excelled at. 

  “I come seeking the hand of your middle daughter in marriage,” Antonius said. “I bring a dowry of three goats to compensate you for her.”  

  For some time, Colton sat motionless. His face was a slate mask, giving no indication of what he thought of the proposal. Then he started to tremble, and a wicked snarl appeared across his lips.
  
  “You speak of Madreia?” Colton asked, voice rising. The man stood, pounding his chest as he shouted his next words. “My precious daughter?” 

  Fear filled Antonius as he stared up at the man. He’d heard tales of Colton’s temper, and wasn’t keen on being on the receiving end of it. Getting to his feet, he raised his hands and started to back toward the door, ducking his head repeatedly. 

  “Forgive me, Colton. I meant no-” 

  “My daughter is worth at LEAST ten goats!” Colton shouted. 

  The room went still, and the fear left Antonius. He didn’t understand the way to deal with a father’s rage, but this, this he understood. He raised his head and smiled, meeting Colton’s gaze. 

  “The best I can offer is six goats.” 

  The glare in Colton’s eyes lasted another moment, then broke, and the man smiled wide and stepped forward, offering his hand. 

  “You have yourself a deal,” he said, pausing a moment before adding a final word. “Son.” 

  They clasped hands and laughed. Colton looked truly pleased.

  “Six goats! It’s marvelous!” he exclaimed. “I shall bathe myself in the milk of their teats.” 

  The smile on Antonius’ face faltered, but he forced it back, not wanting to upset his soon-to-be father-in-law. No matter how strange that previous sentence was. 

  “I have three goats here already. I will return home and gather the three finest of my remaining goats. I shall deliver them personally by nightfall.” 

  Colton clasped his shoulder. 

  “And in turn, I shall see to it that Madreia is dressed in her most alluring of garments. I’ll even command that she cleans the sweat from her underarms,” he said, leaning close. “The girl gets downright rank working long hours in the python factory.” 

  This was going better than Antonius’ wildest dreams. Alluring garments AND clean pits? Nothing could possibly ruin this day. 

  With a sharp CRACK, the lattice on the far wall shattered, and a grimy, sweaty young woman crashed through into the room. The two men turned to face her. 

  “Madreia! Who is watching the python factory while you are away?” Colton shouted. 

  The woman rounded the table and approached. 

  “A ten goat wife?” she roared. “Is my life really worth so little to you, father?” 

  Antonius stepped in front of her, sheepishly raising his hand. 

  “Actually, we agreed upon a dowry of six goats,” he said. 

  Madreia slapped his hand away, then jabbed a finger toward her father. 

  “You dishonor me!” 

  With that, she fled, stomping extra hard on her way out. Antonius looked at his soon-to-be father-in-law. 

  “Should we pursue her?”

  Colton rubbed his forehead, then nodded. 

  “Yes. The girl is stubborn as they come. If we don’t calm her, she’s bound to take coin from my treasury and go heap it upon those uncultured men who dance in the night market.” 

  “The stretch dancers? Their hypnotic movements are not blessed by the gods,” Antonius said. “She wastes coin upon such men?”

  Trying to force a smile, Colton waved dismissively. 

  “It is just a thing that she does when she is angry. She’s a good woman, and will be a fine wife,” he said. 

  They set out after Madreia. 

  “Five goats,” Antonius said. 

  Colton gave no verbal acknowledgment, but his stiffened posture indicated he’d heard the change in their agreement. He led Antonius out the back of the hut and toward the open door of the python factory. The place was larger than it appeared from outside, and Antonius felt overwhelmed as he looked around. The technology in this place was beyond anything he’d ever seen, with machines as large as buildings.

  “I have a counter-offer for you both,” Madreia yelled, pulling their eyes upward. She stood upon a metal catwalk fifty feet off the ground. “Keep your six goats…” 

  She slammed the flat of her palm onto the console, and alarms blared. The complex industrial machinery whirred to life. It was a sensory overload, and Antonius bumped into Colton as he turned slowly, trying to make sense of all that he saw. Conveyor belts laden with pythons moved, and giant copper buckets swung through the air on chains. One of which stopped just above them, then tipped over, spilling its deadly contents. 

  “.... And with them, take five thousand pythons!”

  A single python dropping from above onto a man could be deadly. Five thousand of them was a death sentence. Antonius tried to run, but he and Colton collided, smacking their foreheads together. Then a crush of reptiles hit them, taking them both to the floor. Their bones broke as the storm of pythons continued to rain down on them. 

  It was a bitter end for them both. As pythons began squeezing the final life from his broken body, Antonius felt a strange emotion. Was that pride? Not for himself, but for his would-have-been bride. Only a strong woman could have pulled off such an attack. 

  A ten goat wife, indeed.