Old Green World

by Walter Basho

  Thomas decided to try some of Albert’s own damaged logic. “You can’t hurt me while we’re on the farm. You promised us that.”

  “You’re right.”

  “So, there’s nothing to worry about, right?”

  Albert paused for a minute, mouthing silent and mysterious propositions and conclusions. Then he smiled sheepishly at Thomas and said, “I guess not.”

  There was a difference from before, an awkwardness. It felt like Albert was holding back something. Thomas didn’t think too much about it; it all still felt so good to him.

  They had all been there almost two months before Aengus came. He came up to the front fence while Thomas was cleaning some mushrooms and roots for supper. “Albert!” he shouted. “I know you’re here. Albert!” He looked surprised when Thomas came up to him. “You’re here, too?”

  “I am. How are you, Aengus?” he said, giving Aengus a friendly pat on the good shoulder. He had talked briefly to Aengus when he had come back from the war. There was a public ceremony, and his mother had given Aengus an honor on behalf of the city. Aengus had been distant and brief with Thomas that time: Thomas had dismissed it as the trauma of war and of losing his arm. He had heard that Aengus had settled down as a family with Will and Mila since then.

  “Where is he? Where’s Albert?”

  “He’s out hunting. Do you want to come in for a bit and wait for him? I’m sure he’d be glad to see you.”

  Aengus looked at Thomas for several beats. “He’s all right?”

  “I think he has some shock from the war. You all do, and that’s to be expected.” Talking to Aengus, Thomas remembered the old life, the Administrator life. He talked to Aengus like he would talk to a valued citizen. “I bet it will help him to see you. Please, come in. The barley’s come up fast, and we actually have our first batches of ale ready. I’d love to have you try them.”

  “You and Albert are together now, aren’t you?” Aengus asked. “And he . . . he never told you about us, did he?”

  Thomas looked at him quizzically. “Albert hasn’t talked a lot about the war, no.”

  He didn’t know what to make of Aengus’s reaction. Aengus seemed embarrassed and in grief. “I didn’t think he would ever come back, Thomas. I would have waited for him. Do you hear me? I would have waited for him if I’d known.”

  “I don’t understand what you mean. Did something happen in the battle? I’m sure he forgives you, Aengus.”

  Aengus shook his head. “It doesn’t even occur to you, does it? Because it was always Albert and Thomas, since you were wee, all through school. Of course, he would just come back and settle down with Golden Thomas. Well, it was Albert and Aengus, too. As soon as your mama hauled you back to town after his parents were killed; all through Baixa, as well. He was mine, too. He was mine in war, when it mattered.”

  Thomas couldn’t look at Aengus. He couldn’t hear for the ringing in his ears. He felt dizzy. “Please stop,” he said quietly. “Please go away. Please.”

  “I’m not trying to hurt you, Thomas.” Aengus said, realizing himself. I just . . .” He stopped and took a deep breath. “I just wanted him to know I would have waited.”

  Aengus walked back to his horse, mounted it, rode away.

  Thomas went back to the porch, slowly, and took to cleaning the roots and mushrooms again. It was hard to focus on the mushrooms. After a while, Anya came to the door. “Cyd’s down for her nap. What’s wrong with you?”

  “Nothing, I . . .” He paused, and in that moment he decided this didn’t need to matter either. “Nothing.”

  + + +

  The next day, Albert stayed in for the afternoon. They had plenty of meat curing, and he didn’t need to hunt for a while. Thomas was making a boar stew while Albert and Anya were sitting on the porch drinking ale. Anya saw the horses first, coming from the Plancks’. “Here it is. Here they come,” she said, agitated but also slightly self-satisfied. Thomas heard her and came to the door, drying his hands.

  It was Daniel Bohm and Marcus, Mal Planck’s son. They looked worried, ashen. “Albert,” Daniel called.

  “What?” Albert didn’t move from his chair.

  “We were talking to Mal about getting some food. He said that we were supposed to talk to you.”

  “Mal Planck? Marcus’s father? He is your father, right, Marcus?”

  Marcus nodded. “Of course, he is.”

  “I told Mal to send any criminal soldiers to me, and that I would take care of it.”

  “All right,” Daniel said, choosing not to take the bait. “Well, we’re here because we were told to get food. So I guess you’re going to cover the Plancks?”

  “I didn’t say I was giving out any food. I just said I was going to take care of it for Mal. That’s your father, right, Marcus? The man you just tried to extort food from, that’s your father.”

  Marcus said nothing. Daniel said, “We can’t go back and say that. Peter will come back, and it will be trouble.”

  “Peter? Who’s Peter?”

  “Peter is the commander we came back from Baixa with, Albert,” Daniel said, exasperated. “Look, we’ve been up on the north side of Eden-town for a while now . . .”

  “Eden-town? There isn’t any Eden-town,” Albert said. “You burned it to the ground.”

  “Peter burned it,” Daniel said. “But things have been better since then. We’ve been on the north side, and everyone has been cooperative, and no one’s been hurt.”

  “Right, they’ve just been starving themselves for you,” Albert said. “Starving so you wouldn’t burn and kill them.”

  Daniel took a long pause. “He’s terrible, Albert. You don’t know what it’s like.”

  “Seems like it’s pretty easy to me, actually. You get free food while other people suffer, and you get to blame it on this Peter guy. Anyway, you send Peter to me.”

  “No, Albert, don’t do this—”

  “You send Peter to me.” The command issued from Albert, but something seemed to be playing tricks on Thomas’s ears. It sounded like it came from everywhere. He looked around and everyone else seemed to be surprised, as well. “I will take care of it. Do you understand?”

  “Please, no,” Daniel shuddered.

  “You send him to me.” Then something changed back, and it was just Albert again. “It’ll be easy. Send him to me, and you both can keep avoiding responsibility for these awful things you’ve been a part of. Marcus? Marcus! Look at me.” Albert stood and walked toward them. “You send him to me, not your father, do you hear me? Can you manage that? Not to get him killed, his farm burned? Your father. Your farm.” He had reached Marcus by the last words and spat the words into his face, which showed only fear and shame and hatred.

  “I know everything you’ve done,” Albert said to him, and then looked at Daniel. “I know everything you’ve both done. When this is over, you both leave. There’s no place for you here anymore.”

  They climbed on their horses and rode off.

  “When they come back, it will be all of them,” Anya said, without much inflection.

  “Yes. And when they do, I’ll take care of it. You believe me, right?”

  Anya nodded slowly. “Yes, I do.”

  “Then drink up,” Albert said, taking a swig. “This ale is good. Nobody gets any of our ale without working for it.” He grinned.

  + + +

  That night, all the soldiers came. They passed the Plancks’ and came directly to the fence of the farm. Anya took Cyd in her arms and clutched at Albert’s sleeve. “Where do I go? The baby . . .”

  “You and Cyd stay in your room,” Albert said. “I’m going to take care of it.” Something in his speech sounded absolute and inevitable. She relaxed and nodded. “You can take care of Cyd, keep her calm,” Albert said. “I need you to do that.” Anya took Cyd to her room.

  “I’m going with you,” Thomas said.

  “No. You don’t need to see this.”

  “I can fight, Albert! Everyone forget
s that. I can fight.”

  “I remember that, Thomas,” Albert said. He seemed to struggle silently with himself for a moment. Then he gave in and said, “Don’t fight until I say so. All right? Just stand back. Maybe there doesn’t have to be any fighting.” Albert didn’t even seem to convince himself. They went outside.

  There were dozens of them. Many carried torches, and the flames disturbed the cool night with smoke and hostile flickering. “We’re here for Albert Todorov,” said a voice from the crowd of men and horses.

  “I’m Albert Todorov. Is that Peter? Peter, come on forward. Let’s talk.”

  There was a pause and a shuffling as horsemen climbed down from their mounts and came forward. Peter, and five more, all with torches, all armed.

  “I know you,” Albert said. “Don’t I know you?”

  “I was in Baixa, boy. You knew your place better then. I hear you’re telling the farmers here not to give us food. Acting like you’re in charge,” Peter said. “That’s a bad move.”

  “I’m not in charge of anything,” Albert said. “I’m just a farmer.”

  “You’re not just a farmer,” Peter said. “You were one of us. You had a whole platoon. But then you cracked up.”

  “I used to be a soldier,” Albert said, “but that was a while ago.”

  “Whatever you are, you’re causing trouble. We don’t want trouble in this town, but we’re not going hungry either.” Peter paused. “What am I going to do with you? I’ll give you one chance. Give us what we need, and tell your neighbor to do the same, and everything will be fine.”

  Albert laughed. “That’s very kind of you,” he said. “I’m not giving you anything, Peter. And no one else is, not after tonight. It’s time to stop harassing these people. It’s time to stop crying about what you’re owed and do some work. If you need food, cut down some trees and start growing some crops. Raise some animals. Hell, if you want, I’ll help you do it. But that’s how you get food from now on. The extortion stops.”

  “Bad move, Albert Todorov,” Peter said. “Bad, bad move. We need to farm? Maybe we’ll start by taking your goddamn farm.” Then he noticed Thomas, apparently for the first time. “Look, our lord and mayor’s here! This is making a lot of sense now.”

  “Thomas is my friend, and he’s someone I protect,” Albert said. “He has nothing to do with this.”

  “Of course not!” Peter said. “Of course the lord and mayor wouldn’t find the biggest, hardest soldier he could find and use that blond ass to get that soldier on his side. Try to make a new land grab. Don’t look offended, Todorov, I can understand it. He’s pretty enough.

  “But I’m not letting it happen. No more mayors, no more Adepts, no more citizens running things. We burned down the town for a reason. We’re starting over. And if this is the new mayor’s house, then I guess we’ll just have to burn it down, too. I don’t care how big you are. There’s only one of you.”

  “It’s not too late to stop,” Albert said, sadly. “Do you understand? Take a second, just a second. You can stop.”

  “I don’t think so. I think it’s just starting,” Peter shouted. “I’ll do you a favor. I’ll kill you first, so you don’t have to watch what I do to your lordship.” Five more soldiers came down from their mounts, and the ten of them approached the gate.

  “If you set foot on this farm in violence, it’s the last thing you’ll ever do,” Albert said.

  Peter laughed, kicked at the gate, and marched in.

  Then Thomas heard a voice that said get back, and it was Albert, but it was Albert’s voice like it was before, like it was coming from everywhere. And Thomas said aloud, “No, I’ll fight with you.” Suddenly, he was pulled back to the porch, and even though Albert stood in front of him, he knew the force was Albert, too.

  And then a noise came from the forest, though Thomas couldn’t tell exactly where. It was an animal, but Thomas couldn’t tell exactly what kind of animal. He only knew that it was big and wild and terrible. And it grew closer, and with it came a shadow, and a wind. The wind blew past Thomas and toward Peter. And with it, Peter started screaming, the most horrible screaming, like the noise was eating him alive. Thomas squinted through the night and saw Peter being shaken and torn by something invisible. As he came apart, his screams became like the animal’s howls.

  The two soldiers next to him began screaming and coming apart as well. And then it was all tumult and movement, and Thomas couldn’t tell what was going on. He made out something growing from the ground, plunging into the soldiers’ trunks, coming out through their chests and shoulders and mouths. Every soldier that had crossed the threshold was being destroyed. The ones in back were still newly screaming, writhing, collapsing; the first ones, closer to Thomas, were swaying more slowly. Thomas realized that the first bodies were dead, that something else was doing the swaying.

  The only body that stayed still throughout was Albert. He was still standing in the place where he started. Thomas could see only his back, silhouetted against the torches of the soldiers outside the gate. Those soldiers had darted back and forth, tentatively, when the screams started, but now stood stock still, looking at Albert’s face. Thomas looked into the soldiers’ eyes. It looked like they were gazing into something terrible.

  And then Albert’s voice spoke again, Albert’s voice coming from everywhere. “The forest hurts you. So you tried to kill it and turn it into civilization, and then, when that didn’t work, you looked for people to blame. Adepts, and mayors, and other soldiers, and civilization itself, anyone and anything you could think of. And you came here, because you thought I was another one to take the blame. But you missed the point. I’m the forest. I’m the one who hurt and killed you in the first place. And you can keep challenging me all you want, and I will just keep killing you. Because I am patient, and I am vast, and I do not care.”

  The soldiers that were left scrambled to their horses and rode away. In their haste, they left five horses without masters.

  As they rode off, the noises and wind began to die down. Albert turned and walked toward Thomas. As he got closer, Thomas saw that he was covered in blood and soil. There were places on his face where the dirt was interrupted in streaks. It looked like the streaks had been cleaned by sweat, or tears.

  “Would you take the horses back to stable, please?” Albert asked Thomas. It sounded like he could barely make out the words. “Don’t touch the bodies.” He walked around the side of the house. After a couple of minutes, Thomas could hear Albert cleaning himself in the basin near the rain barrel.

  Thomas walked toward the horses. They had kept very calm, all things considered. He looked at the bodies as he crossed. Three men had trees growing through them. The rest were torn apart. He couldn’t tell what used to be Peter.

  He tied all the horses to the fence, then led them back one by one. They hadn’t done a lot of cleaning of the stables, but they were still in good enough shape to get the horses in place and to bed them down. It occurred to him that the goat and chickens had some company, and he was glad of that.

  When he was finished, he walked to the Plancks. “We have horses now. We took them from the soldiers. You can take some, if you could use them. I was wondering if you had some spare feed.”

  “I do,” Mal Planck said. “What happened to the soldiers?”

  “Albert took care of it.”

  Mal was quiet for a while, then said, “I’ll bring some feed over tomorrow.” He closed the door.

  Thomas walked back to the house. Anya was at the table, eating some cured boar meat and young pickles. “He wouldn’t eat anything,” she said. “He came in naked and wet.”

  “What did you say?” Thomas asked.

  “I told him to dry off and to put some clothes on. Then I thanked him. Then I asked him if he wanted to eat, like I told you already.”

  Thomas went to their room. Albert was curled up in the bed, still naked, knees to his chest, facing the wall, clinging to a blanket too small to cover him.
/>
  Thomas sat on the bed and put a hand on Albert’s back. “Something happened to you while you were gone,” he said gently. “Something bad. It doesn’t matter. I don’t care. Thank you for saving us. I love you.” He rubbed Albert’s back for a while, until he felt Albert relax against the touch, just a little. Then he curled up against him and fell asleep.

  + + +

  The next morning, Thomas woke early, before anyone else. He went out to look at the gate in the morning light. He found that the bodies were gone. The places where trees had grown through soldiers were just the young trees themselves, bigger than saplings. Where bodies had been strewn about there were just gently rising mounds, covered in moss. It was more challenging to get to the gate, but not unmanageable. “It’s beautiful, really,” Thomas whispered to himself, then realized what he said and cowed himself into silence.

  He went into the forest. He gathered some mushrooms and chives. He milked the goat and brought the fresh milk in, and he gathered some fresh eggs from the hens. He brought in some salt-cured boar.

  He got a pan over the fire and fried the boar in the pan while he made up some batter for flatcakes. Richer ones this time, with the goat’s milk and the mushrooms and chives. He took the strips of boar off and cooked cakes in the same pan. They bubbled up and turned golden brown on each side. He put the pot of tea he had been brewing on the table.

  Albert woke up first and stumbled out of his room, eyes still half closed. He had managed to pull on some breeches. Thomas kissed him, and held him until Albert almost fell back asleep in his arms. He directed Albert to the table and poured him a glass of milk.

  Cyd had cried several minutes before, but when Anya emerged with her, she had the placid air of a baby who’d just fed. Anya held Cyd on her hip as she crossed the room, took a strip of boar, and began nibbling on it.

  Thomas looked at all of them, at his family and his provisions for them, and his heart was full. And he thought to himself, it’s perfect, it’s perfect.

  It was the end of the world, as it always had been, as it always would be. It was the end of the world, and it was perfect.