It was both risky and crazy to contemplate heading in such a direction, but at least I would be free and maybe I would survive. Survive to do what, I wasn't sure, but something was urging me on towards the Wastelands in the distance and I bowed to its insistence, even as my youthful urges to discover and experience thrilling danger aided in the decision.
*****
Add becoming a thief to the list of crimes I had begun to accumulate in greater volume in my life. First, I had been nothing but a humble farming boy, who then turned murderer and now I was stealing food. I didn't know if I could hope to have the God of Shamayim honor any mission of mine, for what I was exhibiting, to my chagrin, was the actions of an unbeliever.
I had not bowed the knee to a false god though. That I would not do. El Elyon help me, that I would not do.
I would eat tonight, but the weight of the sack of stolen provisions nestling against my knee on the horse seemed to be a great burden to not only me, but the horse I rode. I'd needed the food so I'd taken some. What was the crime in that?
There was no answer to my thoughts, other than that the subconscious weight I was under seemed to deepen in some new level of angst. Figuratively, I pushed the weight of stolen provisions away and focused instead on the trail ahead of me, which I was hoping was a shortcut to the passageway into the Wastelands and not some Robian's Homestead.
The trail swerved to the left and my horse, without direction by me, picked its way along the path. All of a sudden the horse began to balk at some unknown disturbance and I came to full alertness as I glanced around, hoping to ascertain what was disturbing the horse so much.
I saw nothing, but I felt it. The vibration of hard running horses coming down the path behind me!
I was such a fool! I should rather have suffered through some days of starvation than risk bringing down the judgmental Robian tribesmen upon me, who, from the sounds of it, were hard-pressed in their eagerness to catch me.
I understood the level of revenging emotion that was being exhibited, even over the few provisions that I had taken. People had so little in this part of the world that to lose even a little could mean the loss of all.
I lifted the heavy burden of guilt from off the saddle horn and hooked it on a tree branch beside the path before I kneed my horse forward. My act of letting go of stolen goods wouldn't help me against the vengefulness of my pursuers, but I felt better for it. Like I was free of an invisible weight.