The Staff of Ramah

  Chapter 25

  Mosan sat alone in the darkness of the barn, rocking back and forth with his head in his hands. He had yet to tell his dear wife Zinora that he was having the headaches again because he did not want to worry her. The pain would go away soon enough and he had always been one to carry his own burdens.

  His only son had left the farm many years ago to become one of the famed Knights of the Thorn, leaving him to run the farm by himself, but he had never been scared of hard work. Keeping busy was his way of dealing with the problems of life and he did not want to be one of these complaining types that never had anything good to say.

  Zinora was a faithful follower of Ya and was an inspiration to him, in fact, she was the reason that his son Logan had turned out to be a great man of god. He smiled, in spite of the throbbing in his right temple at the thought of his boy and the man he had become.

  A sad creak of the barn door warned him that someone was entering the front stables and he quickly got up, wiping the tear of pain from his right eye and stretching his tight neck muscles.

  “Mosan, are you in here?” It was the sweet voice of his loving wife.

  “I was just looking for something that I dropped in the hay over here dear,” he lied. “I just found it.”

  Zinora, not fooled for one second by the proud man’s subterfuge answered back with a frown on her pretty face, “You are having the headaches again aren’t you?”

  Mosan just shrugged as she came over quickly to wrap her slender arms around his neck. She kissed her old husband tenderly on the forehead many times, then moved around behind him to knead the massive knot of muscle that had tightened like a stone over his right shoulder.

  “I did not want to bother you dear,” he answered truthfully, his head throbbing slightly less as the blood flowed up his neck.

  “Since when have you ever been a bother to me, you silly old fool. You don’t have to bear this burden alone.”

  The loving couple spent a few more minutes in silence as they worked to relieve some of the pressure that had built up in the old farmers head. Mosan was sure that Zinora was offering up prayers for him because that was her way. She prayed about everything and it showed on her sweet face. For a woman in her mid-fifties, she looked much younger than most thirty year olds and he was convinced that it was because she always dumped her burdens on Ya. Why he had never done likewise, he was not sure. It was not in his nature to depend on others for help, but as he got older, his resolve was weakening in that regard.

  “I came to find you dear, because there are people approaching the farm that I’m sure you will want to meet,” Zinora turned to face her husband and gave him one last kiss on his brow.

  Mosan could tell by her beaming smile that it must be his son coming to visit him. With his head feeling much better, the proud old man returned a kiss to his faithful wife, but his was centered squarely on her full lips.

  “I love you dear,” was all he said, and the two of them joined hands on the way out to greet their precious son and whoever had come with him on the journey from the capital city.