Good Intentions

They sat at the table in the center of a kitchen. The smell of pork stew already had Zduhach drooling.

Dragomir’s eyes darted toward the closed door beside him.

“I see it piques your interest, but there’s nothing in particular there… Just my bedroom that I used to share with my late wife, Maria.” His gaze grew distant for a moment. “All that’s left for me are her old clothes...”

Zduhach was already buried in his bowl, slurping noisily from his spoon. “So what happened to her, mister?”

“Jozef. You can call me by my name.” He placed a bowl of stew in front of Dragomir as well.

The bohatier slowly traced a finger around its rim.

“My wife died of heartache. It was a few years after our son disappeared. We tried to search for him but…” He tightened his grip on the ladle. “Eventually, we gave up. He was working in the fields to help the village. He was always looking after everybody. And perhaps, one day…” His voice cracked. “One day… he must have lost track of the time and…”

“Wow, your son must have been a really nice person!” Zduhach smiled.

“He… he was…”

Dragomir took a spoon and tasted the stew. Then he took another spoonful. And another. Soon, he could no longer stop himself.

“Heh… I’m so glad you like it. I always say that real food is better than whatever that tavern is serving.”

“Real food?” Zduhach stopped for a second.

“The nine of us get our ingredients from the market in a nearby town. Since nobody grows anything here anymore. But buying everything gets expensive.”

“You mean the old guys you were out in the fields with today?”

“Yes… some of us even grow onions or cucumbers in our small gardens, but it’s nowhere near enough.” Jozef took Zduhach’s empty bowl and refilled it. “I’m telling you. This village used to grow top-notch crops. But then that bohatier appeared.”

“What did he do?” Dragomir stared into his bowl. He asked out of politeness, not curiosity.

“He brought that accursed table. And his one condition… his one sacred rule was that the owners of the table would serve food to everybody who knew about it. No exceptions.”

“Oooh, so that’s why that bartender couldn’t refuse us!” Zduhach smacked the heel of his fist into his palm.

“People became too dependent on it. And slowly, they stopped working in the fields.”

“But if working in the field led to your son’s death, isn’t that a good thing?” Zduhach asked.

“I see why you would think so. But the less people worked, the less they knew about the work. And the less they knew, the more powerful Poludnica became.”

“When you say ‘more powerful’… You mean people became unable to withstand the time limit.” Dragomir said.

“Yes… And as time passed, Poludnica stopped waiting for noon. Nobody knew when she would strike. The more abandoned the fields became, the more dangerous she grew…”

“So you’re aiming to make the people work again.”

“We’re not senile. We know what we’re doing every day is futile. But if we don’t work, we can’t secure the future for the next generation. The table itself isn’t bad. But what if it stops working? What if it breaks? What if somebody steals it one day? How will we survive?”

Zduhach closed his eyes and pondered for a while. “Hmm… we will help you! We’ll defeat that Poludnica chick and make it safe for people to work in the fields again! Right, Debilmir?”

Dragomir finished the bowl. A soft smile played on his lips. Then he pushed the bowl aside and frowned. “No.”

“What?”

“It’s the villagers’ fault they became lazy pigs. I don’t care what happens to them.” Dragomir stood up and bowed slightly. “Thanks for the food.” Then he started heading outside.

“You know, young man…” Jozef made him stop for a brief moment. “The way you think is not irrational. But maybe you could think about the others, too, from time to time.”

“I’m sorry, old man. But you shouldn’t push the virtues of your lost son onto others.” Dragomir left.

“Hey!” Back outside, Zduhach rushed after him. “How can you be so cruel after he fed us like that?”

“We came here for the table. And we’re taking the table. It brought them despair, so it’s good to get rid of it, right?” Dragomir quickened his pace, but Zduhach matched him step for step.

“Yes, but didn’t you hear? If we take the table now and let Poludnica roam free, the village will be done for!”

“Stop playing the hero, Zduhach. We don’t have time for this.”

Zduhach grabbed Dragomir by the collar, a vein bulging on the archer’s forehead.

“And you stop being such an asshole! Is this the true nature of the second bohatier?!”

Dragomir frowned. “What do you know about my nature?”

“I’ve seen enough! Unless it concerns your girlfriend, nothing bothers you!” Zduhach raised his voice and tightened his grip. “Poludnica toys with the farmers, you sit still. An old man cries for help, you refuse to do anything. A massacre happens around you in a market and you just eat your stupid meat!” He then flung Dragomir aside, sending him crashing onto the hard ground. “I’m sick of you. This is not what a bohatier should be. You should be thankful that people can’t remember you.”

Zduhach spat on the ground and left.

Dragomir sat there. For once, he had nothing to say.

“Damn… he really isn’t human…” Only then did Dragomir realize that Zduhach had lifted him clear off the ground by the collar.

“You look pathetic.”

A grumpy voice called from behind him. Dragomir stood up. Another short furball with an attitude, coming to scold him. Just what he needed.

“Hey, Trpas.”

Jozef’s Domovoy.

“Don’t you ‘hey’ me. It’s been years since you’ve been in this village. And look what happened.”

“It was never my intention.”

“Good intentions or not, you still ruined these people, and now you’re trying to look the other way. Where’d your shame go? Where is that young, resilient man who would always fight against injustice?!”

“Oh, spare me.” Dragomir turned away.

“That’s what you’ve been doing ever since Mistress Maria’s death.” Trpas snapped. ”As soon as there’s something you don’t like, you just turn your back on it!”

Dragomir turned around. His eyes were already wet. “And what do you suppose I should do, huh?!” Tears spilled from his eyes as he shook his head. “What is there to do for me here, huh?! I keep losing people! Even when I try to do something good, it turns into a catastrophe! How do you think it makes me feel, huh?!”

Dragomir fell to his knees. “Trpas…” he sobbed. “Help me…”

The Domovoy sighed. “I can’t tell you what to do, Dragomir. But I can tell you one thing.” Trpas placed his hairy hand on Dragomir’s shoulder. “Stop chasing away the idiots who are stupid enough to stay. You’ve been alone for far too long.”

Dragomir nodded and wiped away the tears with the back of his hand.

***

Back at the tavern, Dragomir found Zduhach sitting in front of Milena’s room again. When Zduhach noticed him, he turned his head away.

Makes sense… Dragomir thought as he walked downstairs again. Before the bartender could say anything, he placed another four silver coins on the counter.

When Dragomir entered his so-called room, the cows mooed as if greeting him. “Hello, girls…” he greeted them in return.

Then he lay down on the heap of straw and exhaled slowly. “Alright… We need the table. But the village can’t lose it yet. Because if they do, they’d have to return to the fields. But Poludnica is too unpredictable now. So we can’t take the table…” He rubbed his forehead.

Dragomir already knew the answer. He just hated to admit that Zduhach had been right. All they had to do was make Poludnica less powerful.

The next morning, Dragomir was awakened by the smell of smoke. He slowly sat up and looked around. The cows mooed restlessly around him. “What’s happening…?”

Then he realized. He dashed outside the barn. The tavern was on fire and a crowd had formed in front of it.

“Milena! Zduhach!”

He tried to get through what looked like a panicked crowd. “Everybody, calm down! Just bring some water!”

Once he pushed his way into the crowd, he noticed something strange. They weren’t panicking. They didn’t run from the burning tavern. They were holding the torches. And shouting threats.

“Come out, you coward!”

“Where did you hide the table?!”

“Debilmir!” Zduhach found Dragomir and grabbed his shoulder. He was holding Milena’s hand. Relief washed over Dragomir.

“The table was stolen!”

Chapter 10: END