Sabien drew his sickle across the wheat quickly.  It fell as it was hewed near the ground.  Pausing, he stood up, taking his straw hat off.  He wore a faded gray wool tunic that was belted at the waist with spun straw, and leather sandals.  His wife Sewa had made the belt for him.  She also used to tie his long black hair into two tails at his neck every morning.  His hair hung forward over his shoulders and ended just under his chest.  He was short but strong, and his face was covered in the sweat of labor.  Sewa used to tell him that he was handsome.  He wiped his large brow with the back of his hand and looked over the field that had fed him for seventeen summers.

The wheat was golden in the sun and gently flowed with the wind.  The land that his family owned was covered in the golden crop.  It seemed like the grain and the harvest was his only purpose at times.  The grain was tied to his life.  If there was a draught it was his family who suffered.  In fact, Sabien remembered that it was a month since the last rainfall.  He looked at the wheat he was cutting.  The long thin stocks of the grain all rose up to the head where thin filaments grew out like long curved needles.  Bushing back his hair with his hand, he wiped his brow again.  He couldnt help but wonder if Sewa would pick him to sleep with her tonight.  Anxiousness filled him even though the day was not yet over.  At the end of the day she would make her decision.

Shaking the idea from his head, he picked up a small handful of wheat and tied a thick knot at the bottom of the stalks.  Then he gathered together a larger amount of wheat, about the diameter of his hand lengthwise, and wrapped it with the knotted wheat, making another knot to hold the grain stalks together. 

Heru, Sabiens little brother, ran through the field towards him.  His shoulder length hair flowed in the wind as he ran on bare feet, brown with dirt.  His short wool tunic was belted at his waist with rope.  Saby, the boy said to his big brother.  Sewa brought water out for us.

Sabien nodded.  His little brother was no more than 8 years old.  Sabien put two bound bunches of wheat under each arm.  His little brother put a grain bunch over his shoulder.  Sabien and his brother walked toward a thin beaten road on the side of the field.  On the road was a large wheelbarrow the width of a tall mans height and the length of two men.  It was made completely of wood and was almost full of wheat wrapped into bunches.  Sabien and his brother put bunches of grain into the wheelbarrow.

Get in the back Heru, Sabien rubbed his hand through his brothers hair roughly.  Heru futilely tried to push away his brother.  Sabien smiled and gripped the wooden poles in front of the wheelbarrow.

Sabien grunted as he lifted the load; the large wheels squeaked as he began walking along the road, alongside the wheat.  Heru jumped on the back of the wheelbarrow.  He swung his feet back and forth gleefully as he gripped the edge with his small hands.  The road went a short distance to a large barn and a stout thatched roof home.  Translucent smoke rose from the small chimney.  Sabien jogged to the barn, pushing the wheelbarrow and turning it around, making a half circle.

There was a woven mat in front of the barn with wheat chaff beaten into it.  Gire, Sabien and Herus older brother, was standing on the mat.  He was wearing a similar tunic and sandals as Sabien, but his tunic was belted with a thin leather strap.  His hair was tied in two long tails and reached his belt.  Gire had folded his tunic to his waist and was sweating profusely.  He was thin, but very tall, almost the opposite of his brother. 

Sabien noticed that Gire and their wife Sewa were speaking together.  Sabien looked at the woman about his age that wore a simple lightly faded blue dress, and noticed the delicate gold dove that hung from a silver chain on her neck.  The dress was so long that it was dusty from hitting the ground. Her dress hid her neck and her wrists.  Reaching up to his face, Sewa wiped his brow with a linen towel.  Sabien rested the wheelbarrow down and the back end tilted up.

Come down Heru, said the woman just outside the barn.  Heru hopped off the wheelbarrow.  The woman held the large bowl of water in front of her. 

For my husbands, she said tilting her head slightly and holding the bowl out.

Gire did not step off of the mat.  Gire took the bowl from her and drank a small draught.

Thank you Sewa, he said softly to his wife.  She nodded.

Sabien, she said looking to her other husband.  He took the bowl and stared at Sewa as he slurped the water.

She was so beautiful.  She was staring down, and Sabien was reminded of their wedding.  He knew that his family would be honored by marrying such a strong woman.  He couldnt help staring at her beautiful brown eyes.  He wanted to somehow know what she was thinking by looking into her eyes.  A bit of water dribbled down his chin over a scar.  He gave the bowl back to Sewa.

Sabien received that scar only a few summers ago when he was fighting with Gire.  Their father had sent them to town to sell their wheat, and they had gotten lost looking for the market.  Gire had blamed Sabien.  He said they shouldnt have tried to find the bar.  Sabien wanted only to get some beer, but Gire became mad.  Sabien was pulling the wheelbarrow and Gire pushed it roughly in anger.  The wheelbarrow surged forward, slipping out of Sabiens hands and knocking him flat onto his chin.  The wheelbarrow tipped forward and the poles in front clattered against the cobblestones until it stopped.  Sabien was bleeding; Gire kept saying that he was sorry.  He pressed his linen towel to Sabiens chin.  Sabien held it there.  Gire had to pull the wheelbarrow around looking for the market as Sabien followed, holding the linen to his chin.  Sabien had made a story about tripping to tell father, but father had not been happy.

Inside the thatched house the ceiling was low, but only Gire had to bend his neck when he stood up.  The door opened to a small wooden table on the right and a stove made of stone on the wall in the left corner.  Past the table on the right was a small cabinet and then fathers wooden chair.  Between fathers chair and the cabinet was a small hall to three rooms.  The rooms were very simple with only straw beds on the ground with wool and linen blankets.  Each room had a small box with folded clothes.  Lanterns hung on the hall walls but none of them were lit.

They sat on hollow stools over the small table just big enough for the three brothers, their wife Sewa, and their father and mother.  Mother sat at the foot of the table near the stove and father sat at the head of the table farthest from the door outside.  Their father had graying hair in his beard, and the hair around his baldhead was also beginning to gray.  His hair was tied in two tails.  He wore a long orange tunic that didnt seem to fit properly on his thin frame.  The tunic was belted at the waist with thick leather.  Sewa sat next to Gire.  Her eyes were closed, as were all the others save Sabien.  Sabiens head was bent down but he gazed at Sewa.  Next to Sabien sat Heru.  The mother spoke in low tones praying for the good harvest and the protection of their ancestors.  When mother was finished she nodded her head and everyone began to eat.  Mother wore a dark blue dress that was stained darkly in a few places.  It was belted above her large waist.  She chewed slowly; her face was only lightly wrinkled around her eyes and mouth.

The sun had only recently lowered below the horizon, and the orange light shone against the young womans face. Her long hair was tied with a leather thong behind her head.

Sewa, here, the mother said as she handed the wooden plates to the young woman.  Sewa had rolled her sleeves up to clean the plates.  She took the plates and dipped them into the bucket of water.  She used the scrub towel to brush the remaining food off.

Inside the house, father sat in a wooden chair with straw padding.  Heru sat in front of him listening intently to the story his father was telling.  Sabien sat near the window whittling at a stick with his knife made of iron.  Gripping the wooden handle he sliced shavings into a bucket.  Outside Sewa washed the dishes, and he watched her from inside.  The small necklace glimmer in the moonlight, the dove rested on her chest.  Mother took the plates into the house as they were cleaned.  When Sewa finished the dishes she walked back into the house with the bucket.

Sabien felt that lately he put all his anger into his work and actions.  He wondered why Sewa didnt love him anymore.  Instead of exploding in anger though, he put his anger into energy.  Viciously, he cut at the stick in his hand. 

Sewa put the bucket next to the stove and then walked towards Heru.

Time to go to bed Heru, she said sweetly.

Ahh, but father hasnt finished his story, Heru said.

Its ok Heru, I can finish the story tomorrow.  Just remember where we stopped.  Father rubbed Herus head.

Sewa carried Heru to the first room and tucked him into bed.  She kissed his lips.

Goodnight my little husband, she said as she closed the door behind her. 

Sewa walked to the table and sat down next to Gire.  She put her hand on Gires.  Peering into Sewas eyes as the flickering fire died down, he laid his head on his folded arms.  He held her hand and rubbed it between his for a while.

Lets go to bed, she whispered in his ear. 

Gire got up and they walked to the hallway wishing everyone goodnight.  Father got up as mother finished cleaning the table.  They wished Sabien goodnight and they walked to their room at the end of the hall.  Sabien sighed; he was discouraged that Sewa had picked Gire again.  Softly he traced the veins of his arm with his knife.  It seemed so easy he thought.  Thinking of Sewa and Gire together filled him with rage.  He put his knife behind him.  He took a large piece of wood from the pile next to the cabinet and put it in the stove.  He walked down the hall and entered the first room where Heru slept.  Sabien looked at his brother sleeping as he rested his head on the wall.  He listened to the whispers in the next room.

thats the way he acts sometimes, Sewa breathed.

Ive never noticed it, Gire said softly.

You dont pay attention to your brother as much as I do, she said.

What do you mean? he said quizzically.

            Well when someone is always staring at you, you tend to pay more attention to them.

            Ok, Ill talk to father, Gire whispered.  There were some hushed whispers that Sabien couldnt hear and then he didnt hear them talking anymore.  He heard kisses.  Sabien clenched his fists.  He took out the knife from his belt again.  He held it in his clenched hand, but he was too scared to do it.  He put the knife in his belt.  The sight of his belt only reminded him of his pain.  The belt was made in her love for him, but Sabien did not feel her love as he lay against the cold wall.

            In the morning Gire told his father how Sewa had seen Sabien staring at her all the time.  They were in Father and Mothers bedroom, with the door shut.

            Is Sewa favoring you?

            No, Gire said, clearly offended, and somewhat surprised.

            Gire. Father set his jaw and looked at his son straight in the eyes.

            Well, she loves me more, he said defensively.  His father sighed.

            Gire, Sewa cannot show favoritism.  I know that you and Sewa are in love, but Sewa cannot break up the marriage with your brothers.  Would you break up our land so that you can have Sewa for yourself?  Did you expect that all the land would go to you?

            Gire did not answer. He only listened.

Your brothers help with the land and you cannot tend it by yourself.  They will not want to stay with you taking Sewa for yourself.

I didnt --, Gire began, but his father cut him off.   

Your brothers help with the land and you cannot tend it by yourself.  They will not want to stay with you taking Sewa for yourself.  If you love her too much you will force the division of the land and the death of our family.

            When my brothers had problems we had to put aside our feelings for our wife, otherwise it could have destroyed us.  We still loved her but we were not fighting for her as we were before.  Our family has never before split our land.  The time for falling in love is over; you must consider how your feelings can divide the family.  The land cannot be divided.  You know that we dont have much of it as it is.

            You must talk with Sewa about what I have said.  I am going to tell the same thing to Sabien.  Sabien has become jealous.  I must go talk to him, and you must tell Sewa that she must treat Sabien equally in love as well.  Where is he?

            Its his turn to thresh the grain, Gire gestured in direction of the barn.  Lowering his head, Gire passed his hand over his face.  He left with his father but stopped in the kitchen to talk to Sewa.

 Their father found Sabien unloading the wheelbarrow.  He walked to the barn where the wheelbarrow was and picked up a bunch of grain in each hand.

You dont have to help Father, Sabien said sincerely.

Nonsense Saby, father said dismissively.  Father took the wheat to the barn with Heru helping.  Sabien took two bunches underneath each of his large arms and walked towards the mat.  They stacked the grain on top of each other. 

Sabien went to the wheelbarrow for more.  After the wheelbarrow was completely empty Sabien ran it back to the field, with Heru in the back.  Sabien stopped next to where Gire was and set the wheelbarrow down.  Heru began to put the grain that Gire had cut into the wheelbarrow.  Sabien walked back to the barn.

 Sabien I have to talk to you, his father said.  His hand rested on his forehead.  His father told him that Sewa would not favor Gire anymore.  Sewa and Gire would not break up the land, just because of their affections for each other.  His father continued to lecture and Sabien continued to work as his father talked.

Sabien took some bound grain from the pile.  He unwrapped it and spread it over the mat as his father spoke to him.  Next to the mat were two wooden poles.  They were tied together.  He picked up the flail and swung it down over the grain.  His father continued to speak of how the land was the most important thing that their family had.  Sabien grit his teeth as he continued to beat the wheat out of the straw. Once the straw was separated from the wheat, Sabien picked up a coarse wooden sieve and ran the rough threshing through as he sat.  The grain fell through and the straw was caught in the sieve.

Sabien, Gire will tell Sewa to stop her favoritism.  She will sleep with you equally now, that is the only way to be fair to both of you.  I dont want you boys to be at each others throats, he laughed softly, but then became stern. Saby, are you listening to me?

Yes father, Sabien said looking away from the wheat.  I understand.  Sabien tried to forget what his father told him as he sat down on the mat running the wheat through his hands.  He couldnt shake the idea that Sewa would never love him again.  His father couldnt force her to love him.

Father rested his hand on Sabiens shoulder.  Sabien recalled his marriage to Sewa again.  He loved Sewa so much back then he realized.  He had met her in the market, and took an immediate liking to her.  Sewa began spending more and more time with Gire and less with Sabien as she got to know them both.  Sabien was happy at first that they got along, but it soon turned to bitter jealousy.  He had seen his wife fall out of love with him and fall in love with his brother.  His brother put her on a pedestal.  Sabien once found flowers in her room that must have come from Gire.  He had seen Gire give the dove necklace to Sewa late one night.  Gire was trying to steal Sewa from him.  He wasnt sure what Sewa felt for him anymore.  He tried to be a good husband.  He was able to work twice as hard as Gire, but Sewa didnt notice those things.  She only thought of herself and never of him.  It was so long since they had talked for any period of time.  They did sleep together, but they hadnt made love in a month.

As his father left, he looked at the wheat again and set it on the ground.  Standing up suddenly, Sabien reached behind himself and pulled out his sharp knife.  The knife shone brightly in the sun.  A sense of rage filled him and he was no longer scared.  Their father had only confirmed his fears.  Sewa loved Gire, their father said it plainly.  He took off his belt and folded it in half.  Slowly Sabien put the knife in the loop of belt hanging from his hand.  Then he cut his straw spun belt in two.  It was finished.  He would no longer love Sewa, it didnt matter how she would pretend after Gire talked to her.  The belt flew through the air as he tossed it into the barn.

Kissing Sewa as he left, Gire left the house for the field.  Sewa turned to look to the barn and Sabien.  Slowly Sewa approached Sabien.  Sewa began to say she was sorry that she was so rude lately.  Everything she said was fake sympathy for Sabien.

 Its partly the morning sickness I guess, she said quickly.