In opstand

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In opstand Page 9

by Marieke Veringa


  “That Saul knows things he doesn’t share with us. Important things.”

  “And how does Andy get so smart?”

  Mara’s voice drops to a whisper. “He saw it in The Book.”

  “When?”

  “He couldn’t read for long. Saul had left it on the table after one of his speeches, that one evening we were forced to watch the fight between Max and your brother. Andy couldn’t resist sneaking a peek.”

  “Really.” I give her a baffled look. And here I was, thinking Saul only had a say in the choice of particular chapters for certain days. Apparently, some chapters are never chosen.

  What is he afraid of?

  “The Book says that collaboration is the most crucial survival tactic,” Mara continues. “When you work together, you have the best access to the Force. We don’t need a leader at all.”

  “But – but that’s not right,” I stutter. “It’s the law of the fittest that counts.”

  “No, it’s not. A group is strongest if we all contribute. Someone who draws all power of the Force to himself will turn evil. And all who follow a leader like that will lose the light themselves.”

  “In that case, we have to do something!” I hiss softly, even though there’s no one around to eavesdrop on us. “If Saul’s been lying about this…”

  Mara sighs dejectedly. “The burden of proof is on us. And we can’t prove anything. Andy only had a glance at that page he told me about – he couldn’t tear it out to show it around.”

  The rest of the journey home has me dazedly putting one foot in front of the other without even looking. I can’t get Mara’s story out of my mind. Because if it were true, it would mean that we’ve been lied to by a power-hungry guy who sends us off into the wild looking for the Force that he himself is stealing from us. Maybe I should tell Colin about it.

  ***

  Waiting at the gate of the fence surrounding the manor grounds is a woman. Someone from the village. Perhaps she’s here to bring us news from Newexter or to collect a letter from Saul.

  It’s only when she turns around that I recognize her. Brown hair. Tired, blue eyes staring at me. Six years ago, those eyes wouldn’t look at me when I left my parents’ house.

  It’s my mother.

  3

  “WHAT – what are you doing here?” I stammer.

  Mara’s looking at my mother as if she’s seeing a ghost. Actually, seeing dead people is about as likely to happen as this: parents never visit their children in the manor. Why would they? We don’t need them. We can’t rely on them anyway.

  Mother reaches for me and touches my shoulder. “Leia. You’ve grown so much.” Her gaze lands on the necklace I’m wearing. Tears pool in her eyes. “How are you?”

  “Fine,” I reply stiffly.

  “And how’s Colin?”

  “Fine as well.”

  Her eyes never leave my face. “I’ve missed you so much,” she whispers. “I should never have let the two of you go.”

  I blink. “What do you mean? That’s what we do.”

  She shakes her head. “I don’t believe in that anymore,” she mumbles almost inaudibly.

  “What do you mean, you don’t believe it anymore?”

  “It’s not right.” She wrings her hands. “It can’t be right to let your children go so soon.”

  “What about Father?” I ask, bewildered. “Is he going to show up next?”

  “Your father is dead,” she replies in a monotone.

  I swallow the lump in my throat in the silence stretching between us.

  “Dead?” I repeat lamely.

  My mother nods quietly.

  I hadn’t counted on this. I expected to run into my parents again in a few years’ time. I’d have seen them from afar, in the market square. I’d have had a courtesy chat with them in the village shop. They would never have visited. They’d never have gotten to know my own children, but they would have been around.

  I will never see my father again.

  “What happened?” I ask softly.

  “The flu took him. He was running a high fever and the healer was at the end of his rope. There was nothing to be done.”

  “I’m sorry,” I choke out. “My condolences.”

  I have gone my own way. I can stand on my own two feet. I don’t need my parents, and they won’t be there for me. The Force is the only thing we can rely on. So why do I feel so terribly sad and empty after hearing this news?

  “Thanks,” my mother mumbles. “I hope you’ll come home soon.”

  I nod grudgingly. “Once I’m ready to get married I’ll come back. And not a moment sooner.”

  My mother looks from me to Mara and back. “Tell me – is Saul still running the show in the manor house? He never signs his newsletters.”

  “Yes,” Mara replies, pulling an appalled face. “Together with Ben.”

  Mother frowns with worry. “So it’s true.”

  “What is?” I ask.

  She looks at me seriously. “Honey, Saul is twenty-one. He should have left a long time ago. Something’s not right.”

  Twenty-one? The oldest age at which someone leaves the manor house is nineteen, and even that is more the exception than the rule. Puzzled, I shake my head.

  “It’s time for an intervention from Newexter,” my mother continues. “I’ll tell the Eldest.”

  “What?” I erupt. “An intervention? No way!” The Eldest may be of high standing because he survived the longest, but that doesn’t give him the right to decide things for us over here.

  “We only want to help you.”

  I scoff disdainfully. “We don’t need your help. We can take care of ourselves.” Before she can spout more nonsense, I push open the gate and pull Mara along. Inside, I’m boiling with rage. If Saul’s really too old to stay here, we will call him out on it. The parents in Newexter should stay there and let us handle things.

  And then her face comes back to me again. Mother. She looked so lonely and pale. Was she really worried about me and Colin? Why would she?

  Hesitantly, I glance back, but I don’t see her standing at the gate anymore.

  4

  SAUL is standing in front of the house when we walk up the path to the side entrance. His strong hands are handling a knife he’s using to cut a new arrow shaft. He’s not looking at us, but my heart starts beating faster when we approach. I can sense his eyes on us somehow. He knows we’re there.

  Just as we’re about to step onto the terrace next to the manor, he takes a deep breath. “Hold it,” he says quietly.

  I stop in my tracks. Mara glances sideways and the blood drains from her face when Saul turns around and puts his knife away. His dark eyes, dark hair and dark clothes look like a stain of ink against the backdrop of the white manor wall.

  We stand there, like a pair of deer waiting for the wild hound to pounce. Trapped in Saul’s black stare. One corner of his mouth curls up in a smile.

  “You should probably go make yourself useful,” he tells Mara, still in a voice so quiet it’s almost drowned out by the blood pounding in my ears.

  “Use… useful?” she chokes.

  “More useful than you were to my brother,” he explains, that creepy smile still lingering on his face. “If you can’t perform a woman’s most important duty, maybe you should just stick to other tasks like doing the laundry. I happen to know there’s a whole lot to be done. I expect it to be clean by tonight.”

  “Okay,” Mara whispers, staring at her feet. “I’ll get to it.”

  “You do that.” Saul’s gaze swerves to me. I wish I could stare at my feet too, but a belligerent part of me makes me meet his eyes without flinching. From the corner of my eye, I see Mara walking away. I’m left to my own devices.

  “Leia.” Saul fixes me with his dark stare. “You look a bit pale.
Anything wrong?”

  “No. I’m fine.”

  He shakes his head incredulously. “Didn’t it upset you to see your mother?”

  He saw us? I gasp for breath.

  “Why would it?” I snap.

  He takes a step forward, coming so close I can smell his breath. “Why did she come here?” he whispers.

  I don’t think it was only because she wanted me to know Father had died. Maybe she just wanted to see me. I’m a part of him that she misses.

  “To deliver a newsletter, I suppose,” I mumble, feeling increasingly alarmed by his proximity.

  He lets out a little laugh. “Oh, yes. The news. The last newsletter said your father passed away.”

  The bile in his voice gets to me. All of a sudden, I blink back a few tears.

  “Oh, sorry, how insensitive of me,” Saul continues. “Weren’t you the one looking forward to seeing him again after your time here?”

  “No. That’s Colin.” My voice comes out strangled.

  He keeps quiet, still not moving away from me. When he finally speaks, I wish I’d stepped backward myself.

  “Your father was never there for you, and now he never will be. Don’t forget that.” He peers at my face and scoffs. “You’re not going to cry for him, are you?”

  I shake my head. “No,” I whisper carefully, afraid my voice will break.

  “Good. Now go and help your brother in the kitchen. Maybe he will cry when he hears the news. Send him my best.”

  His footsteps move away from me, and despite the hot summer sun, I shiver in my still damp clothes. I don’t look up anymore to meet his eyes as I hurry to the kitchen.

  5

  “SO SHE was here.” Colin gives me an inscrutable look.

  “Yes.”

  “She hasn’t forgotten about us.” He closes his eyes for a moment. “Don’t they say parents always forget about their children?”

  I run my fingers along the beads of my mother’s necklace, which I’ve worn every single day since we left. I think of Newexter. I think of the parents, going back to their quiet lives after their children move out, who don’t have to worry anymore about putting enough food on the table. People who’ve never liked the responsibility of taking care of their sons and daughters, some of them counting the days until their children leave.

  But there are others, too. There was a man who lied about his son’s age after his wife died, so he could stay with his kid for a bit longer. We all knew the numbers didn’t add up, but the Eldest of Newexter couldn’t find it in his heart to send the son away.

  The woman next door who’d sat crying on the doorstep for days after her daughter had left her, as though she was hoping her child would come back.

  “That’s what they say,” I reply softly.

  “And Father died,” Colin continues. “We missed the funeral. Why weren’t we there?” His fist hits the kitchen table in frustration, the knife he used to gut fish jumping up as if startled.

  “Most people don’t attend their parents’ funerals,” I stutter.

  “Well, I’m not most people. I would have liked to see him one last time,” Colin snaps. “I would have liked it even better to see him alive, but hey, that ship has sailed.”

  I look at my twin brother. Sparkling blue eyes and jet-black hair, just like me. He’s tall and broad for his age. And he fancies Ami. I wouldn’t be surprised if he decided to pack his bags and move back to Newexter soon, taking her as his bride. He never found this place useful, always doggedly maintaining that Mother and Father could have taught him to survive just as well.

  “I know,” I whisper. “I get it.”

  “No, you don’t get it. You’ve never had a single doubt about the higher purpose of us leaving them. You don’t even miss them.”

  My lip trembles. “Well, you don’t get it either. Why do you think I always wear this?” My hand closes around the pendant dangling from Mother’s necklace.

  With a sigh, Colin walks around the kitchen table and pulls me into a rough embrace. “Come with me,” he mumbles in my hair. “When I go back to Newexter. Don’t stay behind without me. Let’s take care of Mother together.”

  Take care of Mother. The world upside down.

  “I can’t,” I object. “Not yet. I don’t have a boyfriend. If I go now, I’ll never be able to get married. I’ll be alone for the rest of my life.”

  “What about Andy?”

  “He’s dating Mara.”

  “Right.” Thankfully, he leaves it at that.

  I actually came in here to tell Colin about Andy and what he said about The Book, but my brother is so upset right now. I’d better go and find Andy first. “Listen up, I’ll talk to you again at dinner. I need to take care of a few things,” I quickly end the conversation.

  I don’t look back when Colin calls after me. I don’t want to hear the note of sadness in his voice, his pain so evident at the news of Father’s death. It’ll only make me waver and doubt myself. Because deep down, I’m just as upset as my brother.

  ***

  Mara is still in the laundry house, stuck up to her elbows in drab, soapy water. She’s washing out a pair of brown pants. The smell of wet wool and lavender soap pervades the room.

  “Hey,” I say, casting a pitying look at the enormous pile of laundry still waiting for her. “You know where Andy is?”

  Mara wipes her forehead. “He mouthed off to Ben because of me. And with consequences, I might add. He has to fight Max and Cal tonight.”

  I blink in disbelief. “You mean both at the same time?”

  “Yes.” Mara’s bottom lip starts to quiver and she bursts out in tears when I put my arm around her shoulders. “It’s not fair.”

  My stomach turns. We really need to get away from this place. Saul is destroying everyone who still has a soul. But where should we go? Should we seek refuge with the parents?

  “Come on,” I comfort her. “I’ll help you out.”

  I work hard, pushing thoughts about confronting Saul to the back of my mind. After Cal and Max knock Andy around tonight, the last thing on his mind will be talking to me about The Book, Saul, and his alleged lies.

  We rinse all the clothes and blankets thoroughly and hang them on the line without speaking.

  Mara breaks the silence after a while. “I wonder where Andy went.”

  I shrug. “I don’t know. Gathering strength, I guess?”

  “So it’ll take them a bit longer to beat him to a pulp?”

  I nod hesitantly. “Yeah. Something like that.”

  My best friend bites her lip. “Leia... something’s wrong with this entire place. It terrifies me.”

  I think of my encounter with Saul and nod quietly. I know exactly what she means.

  6

  IN OUR camp, bedtime is at sunset.

  Sometimes I stay up after dark. I’ll sit in the library and read books by candlelight, but not often. By now, I know the few books we have by heart, and it’s nothing special. There’s volumes about edible plants, hunting tactics, how to sheer the sheep and ways to build huts and catch fish.

  On the table before me right now is a different kind of book that I’ve read many times as well. A book containing imaginative stories called ‘fairytales’. Even in a fantasy world, parents are not to be trusted – the stories of Snow White and Cinderella make that perfectly clear. The mothers in those tales didn’t love their children either.

  I close the fairytale book with a sigh and stare at the flickering candle in front of me, because keeping my mind on reading is out of the question. I can’t get the images of the fight taking place earlier tonight out of my head. Andy, who was beaten up by Cal while Max was holding him from behind. And the youngsters who were all forced to watch. Some of them had averted their eyes. Some of them had seemed relieved that it wasn’t their turn this time.


  Some had enjoyed the spectacle.

  Mara’s right. This truly is a place to be scared of.

  My gaze drifts across the room toward the door in the back of the library. That’s the room where Saul keeps The Book. Every week, he takes it out to read from it during assembly on the lawn in front of the manor house.

  Saul always tells us how each and every one of us has to feel the Force within and shouldn’t be dependent on anyone. The Fools, separated from us by a Wall, believe that help will come from afar – that salvation lies beyond the horizon, away from our island. That’s why they put so much energy into building ships, and that’s why they sail so far away that they never return. But we don’t. We are strong – and stand alone.

  When I look around me, I suddenly notice I’m the only one left in the library. But I still hear noise somewhere. Downstairs, in the hallway, I hear raised voices.

  Curious, I tiptoe through the hall and down the stairs. I can make out more words now. Saul is shouting something, addressing his brother. “Hold him, Ben.” It’s followed by a grunt, like Ben has to restrain or lift someone. Shuffling feet and a muttered curse follow Saul’s instruction.

  Oh no. Haven’t they brutalized Andy enough for today? I thought they’d frogmarched him to his hut after the fight, covered in abrasions and sporting a black eye. Mara told me she’d bring him some medicinal ointment later on.

  No, I don’t think they’re dealing with Andy. The person they’re trying to hold down is groaning with a voice much older than the ones belonging to the youngsters in the manor house.

  A shiver runs down my spine as I stop dead on the stairs. I’m not allowed to see this – I can sense it. But still, I want to look.

  Quiet as a mouse, I sneak down the last few steps and cautiously look around the corner. This part of the house is illuminated by torches lining the walls so visitors can see where they’re going. Saul allegedly has nocturnal visitors sometimes – girls, according to Colin, but I’ve never heard any of the girls mentioning it.

 

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