Marysvale

by Jared Southwick

  “Were both Shepherds in the group?”

  She nodded. “The governor was also with the group, trying to reclaim some of his reputation. He was killed the first night.”

  Jane continued, “The loss of the men devastated the community; but it wasn’t the worst part. On the same day they made it back to town, another outlying settlement was slaughtered, again including women and children. By that time, the people clamored for protection and Mr. Wright was in a position to deliver it.”

  “He looks to have been the only one who understood the situation,” I said.

  “And so it would appear, at first. He was quickly chosen as the new governor. The remaining families who lived outside the city were moved in. Homes were built. Walls and towers were constructed around the town and adjacent farms. The people felt safe.”

  “And the monsters?”

  “Unchecked. They flourished and their numbers grew.”

  “Good heavens! Did they even try to stop them?”

  Jane shook her head.

  “Why?” I asked incredulously.

  “There were a few excuses. One, they were worried about securing the town first, and building a wall was the priority. Another, they didn’t know what they were up against—the Brean weren’t the creatures they thought they were. Then, there came the most powerful persuasion of all….Do you remember our conversation about Cain?”

  Comprehension dawned, at least partly, and I quoted, “Therefore whosoever slayeth Cain, vengeance shall be taken on him sevenfold….That’s why they never did anything, isn’t it?”

  She nodded. “Our losses were at least sevenfold theirs. That theory, along with those scriptures, were circulated around the town. Preachers even gave sermons on the subject. With the loss of life already suffered, and this new idea of Cain, it was impossible to argue the use of force. Supporters of the Cain theory maintained that the first group of settlers must have killed one and that’s why they were attacked.”

  “Did they?”

  “Of course not!” she exclaimed. “You don’t believe the Cain theory now, do you?”

  “Not in the slightest.”

  She looked relieved.

  I continued, “First of all, if you take the Bible literally, it only refers to the sevenfold punishment in relation to Cain, not to any of his offspring. And still following the Bible, God loves his people and has helped protect them as long as they were righteous. I don’t think that’s changed. That being said, however, if the townsfolk chose to follow Lord Wright, I don’t see what the problem is.”

  “Ah, now we’re getting to that,” said Jane. “At first the people got exactly what they wanted. They could sleep well; guards protected them at night and while they worked in the fields. However, with the new security measures, and the sudden population increase from the refugees, changes had to be made. The homeless had to be cared for, given places to live, food to eat, and clothing to wear. Mr. Wright quickly put his people in command of these programs, from building projects to growing and distributing food. He also took charge of establishing the town guards. People were urged to give service when needed, and they were glad to do so; after all, the newcomers were in need, and it was the Christian thing to do. But when there wasn’t enough labor to build the walls, they were forced to work. Citizens were told all these changes were only temporary. Once secure, they could go back to their lives as normal.”

  “Taking over the government wasn’t enough for Wright; he turned his eyes on the church. He even got some of his followers to be ministers,” said Hannah, becoming animated.

  “How did he manage that?” I asked.

  “Another long story,” said Jane. “But in short, they were appointed to lower callings in the church, and then, over time, they slowly moved up.”

  “Except it wasn’t that slow!” exclaimed Hannah. “An accident here…an illness there…”

  “As I was saying,” said Jane with an edge to her voice, hoping it would keep Hannah from interrupting. “In the ruse of being safe and protected, we slowly gave our freedoms away. Weapons were asked for to arm the guards, and the people gladly handed them over. On the surface it was a great time: everyone shared equally in the work and of their substance, all for the greater good…”

  “And to support those ‘guards’ and ‘administrators’ of the programs—all of Mr. Wright’s most loyal supporters,” interjected Hannah. “They lived like kings!”

  “Do you want to finish the story?” asked Jane irritably.

  It was the wrong approach.

  “Oh yes,” said Hannah, who instantly began to babble so fast it was hard to keep up.

  Jane nudged her hard in the ribs and said, “Well you can’t! If you have something to say, wait until I’ve finished my thought.”

  With a haughty sigh, Hannah said, “Very well,” and fell silent. So did Jane, as she tried to remember where she’d left off.

  “On the surface, it was a great time,” I reminded her.

  “Oh, thank you. Yes, well, Mr. Wright quietly positioned himself in a place where he could seize total control over the people and establish himself as a king. Some could see what was happening, Mr. Shepherd being one.”

  Hannah cut in again, “I don’t understand how we got to a point where we would be willing to give up so much.”

  “Fear weakens the will,” I said. “It can be used against us to make compromises to freedoms we normally wouldn’t consider. Here a little and there a little seems reasonable, but if you don’t draw the line somewhere, you’ll never know when it’s been crossed; and by the time you do, it’s very difficult, if not impossible, to get it back without bloodshed. Those who have gained power are rarely willing to give it up freely.”

  Seeing the irritation on Jane’s face over another diversion, I tried to get the conversation back on the topic and asked her, “What of Mr. Shepherd?”

  “He took those who wanted to go and left. They started their own settlement.”

  “Were they ever attacked?”

  “In the beginning, it happened frequently. However, the ten men, who were now battle hardened from that fateful hunting party, joined him; and they were much more effective in repelling the attacks. They knew their enemy. They quickly built a fort and organized their forces. In fact, most of those who had survived the beastly attacks joined him. It’s too hard to simply let the Brean go after you’ve seen their brutality, and the horror they inflict on their victims. From what I’ve been told, they don’t kill quickly if they don’t have to. The townspeople who have never experienced it firsthand simply don’t understand the evil that exists in them.”

  “Or they don’t want to believe it,” injected Hannah.

  “True,” I agreed. “What’s Sarah’s part in all this?”

  “She understood the difficult position the people were putting themselves in,” explained Jane. “She had the courage to raise a warning voice, though quietly at first. Even so, she was noticed quickly and ridiculed for it. The leaders argued that women had no place in deciding the fate of Marysvale. Sarah wouldn’t back down, she became even more vocal. Though none would support her openly, her ideas were taking root; a light was shone on the town leadership, and what it revealed wasn’t pleasing.”

  “And Mr. Wright—what did he say?”

  “He is very good at deception. Publicly, he’s a friend to all; that’s why he has his supporters in positions of power. While deploying them to take care of his problems, he can remain a true statesman.”

  “Is that when they drove Sarah out?” I asked.

  Jane nodded. “They could tell they were losing ground and they wanted to stop her before she could gain any more converts. She was too strong a public figure to eliminate, so they made her a deal.”

  She hesitated for a moment, and tears suddenly welled in her eyes. “She took it.”

  As sympathetically as I could, I asked, “You were close, weren’t you?”

  “Yes. We were young when this all happened. She’
d become like our mother over the years. When she told us she was leaving, we were devastated. I remember crying and pleading with her to stay. I felt like it was our fault.”

  More tears.

  Hannah, too, was remembering that day. I could feel their emotion, much like I had experienced with Thomas; it just came and sucked me in, and I shared their pain as they relived it.

  “It took us a long time to forgive her for leaving us,” confessed Jane. “To this day, she’s never explained why she did it.”

  They fell silent and we rode on.

  I hesitated, then cautiously ventured, “I think I may know why Sarah left you….At least part of it.”

  “Oh?” replied Jane. She waited for me to continue.

  I took a deep breath and, hoping I wasn’t making a mistake, dove in.

  “Sometimes people do things, even though it appears to be the wrong decision, for the right reasons.”

  Goodness, I thought. I’m not making any sense. I stumbled for the words. Sweat beaded on my forehead and suddenly the cool air didn’t bother me. Strange how explanations can seem so clear in your mind and then come out all wrong.

  “She saved herself,” said Jane, shrugging her shoulders. “We see that now and don’t hold it against her. What else could she have done?”

  “I don’t think that was the reason…”

  They waited for an explanation, so I plowed on.

  “It’s uncharacteristic of Sarah to sacrifice her principles just to save herself. However, if her leaving meant that she could protect someone she loves…now that’s something altogether different.”

  I let that sink in for a moment, and then added, “I believe she left to save you.”

  “That doesn’t make sense,” said Hannah confused. “How is leaving us behind saving us?”

  Jane understood what I meant.

  “No, I think he’s saying they would have harmed us if she didn’t leave. Is that what you mean, John?”

  I nodded and could sense their minds whirling, trying to decide if they believed me or not. I felt tempted to try and pull some of those thoughts from them, but I resisted. Jane’s eyes stared into the unending sea of trees before us, and Hannah rested her head on the back of Jane’s shoulder, looking at nothing in particular. I left them to their contemplations.

  After a while, Hannah raised her head and asked, in an unusually quiet voice, “How do you know?”

  I debated how much I should tell them about my last conversation with Sarah, and her desire for them to come back with me. Jane, piqued by Hannah’s question, watched my internal struggle with mild interest. I finally decided that now was as good a time as any to approach the subject. If they didn’t like Sarah’s idea, at least I had some time to convince them before going to work on their father.

  “Before we left, Sarah begged me to bring you and your father back. She told me that things are changing and there would be no more shipments of food for you—not by her choice, but because of things out of her control. She also told me that she felt she had a role to play in the events which are coming; but she was afraid that she couldn’t fulfill her role while those she loves are at risk.”

  “She said that?” asked Jane in her soft, clear voice.

  “Yes.”

  Hannah laid her head back on Jane’s shoulder and said, “I’ll go.”

  “So will I,” added Jane.

  That was rather easy, I thought.

  “But will your father?”

  “I think so,” said Jane. “He has his pride, and it won’t be easy for him to depend on others. However, he is concerned for our protection. And if we are no longer safe in Marysvale, in addition to running out of food...it should be enough.”

  I hoped so.

  The day wore on and the fog burned off, but clouds still covered the sky. We stopped after midday.

  “Why are we stopping?” asked Hannah.

  “Aren’t you tired?” I countered.

  “Well, yes.”

  “So am I. We’ll sleep in turns with a watch; when night falls, we’ll continue.”

  Hannah groaned, “That’s hardly any time. Why do we have to travel at night? Can’t we just keep going and stop at dusk? We’ll get a good rest and start fresh in the morning.”

  “When do the Brean usually attack?” I asked her.

  She thought about it, “At night; but I don’t see how traveling will make us any safer than just staying put. Besides, we can’t see that well in the dark.”

  “I can see well enough. You’re right, we won’t be any safer; but we’ll be awake and our horses rested, at least more than they are now.”

  “Oh, I suppose that makes sense,” she conceded, as if all our plans hinged on her decision. That said, she slid off Smoke.

  We secured the horses in an area of lush grass, and then we ate.

  “We have about six hours before sunset. We’ll break up into three watches, two hours each.”

  “I’ll take the first watch,” offered Jane, and then volunteered Hannah for the second.

  Hannah looked sour at having the worst of the time slots, but she accepted it without complaint. I felt a little sorry for Hannah, at least Jane and I would get four hours of uninterrupted sleep, but I didn’t feel bad enough to change watches.

  “Then I’ll take the third,” I said.

  With that decided, I took a blanket and lay down on the hard ground. Wrapping up in it comforted me somewhat and I fell asleep instantly.

  ***

  I dreamed again, but with much more detail than before. This time I was running through the forest and Jane was there, sitting, waiting for me on the lower branch of a tree. She was a young girl, perhaps only eight years old. I don’t know how I knew it was her, but I did. Marveling, I suddenly realized that I was also a child. She smiled and waved. She was my best friend, and I understood that we shared everything together. Tired, scared, and out of breath, I ran up to her. Using her arms, she pushed herself off the branch and catapulted to the ground.

  “Where have you been? You look like you’ve been playing with the pigs.”

  “In the woods,” I replied, trying to appear brave.

  “In the storm? Did you get lost?”

  “No,” I lied.

  “Then what were you doing out?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Were to.”

  “It’s none of your business what I was doing,” I snapped.

  She looked surprised, “You’ve never kept a secret from me before.”

  “This one is different.”

  “Why?”

  “Because if I tell you, people will get hurt,” I announced. Although I was scared, a part of me felt proud to be part of something so important.

  “Fine, then I’m not telling you my secret,” she said stubbornly.

  “You don’t have one; you’re only telling me you do, so I’ll tell you mine.”

  “I do too have one; and now I’m not telling you for sure.”

  I tried to read her.

  “Hey, stop that!” she snapped, and her mind closed. She was getting better; her thoughts were completely blocked from me this time. I could still sense they were there, but only shadowy figures behind a veil.

  “I wish my mother never taught you how to do that,” I said.

  “Well, she did! And it’s not right for you to go around digging into other people’s thoughts. Someday, someone is going to find out what you can do, and you’ll be in big trouble.”

  “Will not… besides,” I said sheepishly, “someone has found out.”

  Seeing the alarm on her face, I quickly added, “They promised me that no one else would know; they wouldn’t tell a single person, if I didn’t tell their secret.”

  “You didn’t!” she exclaimed. “You’re going to get in a lot of trouble for this.”

  “I didn’t mean to, it was an accident. They were scary and started asking questions. I tried not to say anything, but I think they guessed. No one has to know. They promised t
hey wouldn’t tell anyone.”

  “Yeah, but I know and I have to tell.”

  “Why?”

  “Because your father said to. Please don’t be angry,” she begged. “He came to me and made me promise to tell him if you did anything different, or if you told anyone else. What was I supposed to say?”

  “You can’t tell him,” I cried. “I’ll never get to play again if you do.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “But I made a promise, and I don’t want to lie to him.”

  “If you do, I’ll never be your friend again,” I threatened. “I’ll hide from you. I’ll hide from everyone, so no one can find me….”

  Tears welled in her eyes. “But your father said! And I don’t have a choice—I promised him.”

  “Of course you have a choice. A good friend wouldn’t tell. Aren’t you my friend?”

  “You know I am! But I…I can’t lie for you; it’s not right.”

  “Then you’re not my friend!” I shouted.

  “Please,” she said while choking back a sob. “I have to tell. But we can still be friends.”

  Good, I thought. If she’s going to tell then she deserves to be hurt.

  “Then you better run along Miss Tattletale, and while you’re at it, find another friend,” I yelled.

  She turned and, with tears streaming down her face, she ran toward my home.

  I felt sick. I was going to be in so much trouble, there was no doubt about it. The increased chores alone would make it certain that I wouldn’t be able to play for a long time. What I dreaded most, was how my parents would react, especially my father. His disapproval would be the worst. I think it would have been much easier if they just yelled at me and got it over with. But they wouldn’t. Quietly, they would sit me down and make it clear how disappointed they were. There would be a sermon on how dangerous it is for others to know about me and how we were all put at risk when I acted like this. They would explain how people wouldn’t understand us.

  The day again grew darker; the earlier storm was rebuilding for another onslaught. After a long time of trying to avoid it, I finally accepted my fate and, with a great sense of trepidation, slowly walked home.