by Trish Mercer
“Sounds fine,” she mumbled with her eyes still closed, noticing only vaguely that the way he said cheese suggested additional meanings. But cautious about cheese?
A moment later his voice was right above her. “Mahrree? We need to talk.”
She forced her eyes opened to look at him, hearing something tight and tense in his voice. In the dim candlelight she noticed apprehension on his face that she’d never seen before.
Maybe he wasn’t worried only about Peto’s cheese.
Immediately she sat up straighter. “What’s wrong?”
He gave her The Dinner smile. “Nothing’s wrong, actually . . . it’s just that, uh . . .”
His eyes flickered to the front door, then back to her again.
“You came through that door?” Despite her questioning expression, he continued. “Mahrree, when I came home tonight, I found a visitor waiting for me.”
Mahrree blinked at him, stunned that someone had been there. “Who in the world would be brave enough to visit us?”
“Interesting choice of words for your question,” he chuckled rigidly. “Who in the world? I haven’t yet heard everything, but we need to hear this together. Mahrree, it seems that perhaps a solution has found us.” With his eyes he gestured to the kitchen.
Her shoulders sagged in disappointment. “But Perrin, Terryp’s land! What happened to your plan? We were going—”
She stopped as a horrible realization came to her.
Maybe the visitor in the kitchen was someone who wouldn’t let them leave. Perhaps it was someone from the garrison, or the Administrators.
And here she was blurting out their secrets, very incautiously—
“Mahrree, will you listen to what the visitor has to say?”
She’d never seen him so hesitant and stiff. Maybe this was finally Idumea’s response to her outburst.
Feeling herself grow weak, she said, “Perrin, are you sure—”
“Mahrree, just . . .” He glanced to the kitchen. “Just wait here.”
She sat up properly and turned from her position on the sofa to watch him go to the kitchen, bracing herself for whatever would come through that door. She had to be brave; there was no other choice.
A moment later someone came through the door, initially hard to see in the dim candlelight.
But soon Mahrree noticed enough that she stiffened and took to her feet. Perrin walked calmly behind the stranger who wore rough linen or cotton, Mahrree wasn’t sure which, dyed in mottled colors.
She went into full alarm. “PERRIN! Why is there a Guarder in my house?”
“Actually, we’re not always called Guarders,” the person—female—said as she padded, strangely tranquil, across the room.
Mahrree glared at Perrin. His face was unreadable, which made Mahrree feel even more anxious.
A woman. A Guarder woman which Perrin thought didn’t exist, but that Mahrree knew did. She recognized the clothing—the same as she had seen on the woman years ago in the forest. But this wasn’t the same person; she was younger, darker, and more gentle.
Gentle?
Her soft brown eyes complimented her curly soft black hair which was tied up in a wide ponytail. Everything about the woman was calm, reassuring, and highly suspicious.
She stopped in front of Mahrree. “Our ancestors were sort of Guarders, for a time, but now we have taken a new name: Salemites.”
Every inch of Mahrree panicked. “What does that mean?” She looked frantically to Perrin for answers, who stood behind the woman. Mahrree fully expected to see him holding his long knife, prepared to eliminate this threat in their gathering room, but his hands were empty.
“Just listen, Mahrree. And . . . keep an open mind.” He smiled tentatively. “If anyone can, it’s you.” He pulled out a chair by the table and sat down, nodding for the woman to continue.
Mahrree knew her mouth was hanging wide open, but she had no power to close it. She stared at her husband, then finally back at the woman.
The visitor smiled so beautifully Mahrree felt her whole body become warm. That was wrong! She hated this woman and her people who killed her husband’s parents, who took Perrin away from her so many times, who . . . who—
“I understand you know the history of your people very well, Mahrree Shin,” she said kindly. “Tell me, what happened to the men that were guarding the ninth Guide?”
Mahrree scoffed. “They killed Pax in 200! They had spies everywhere, and when Querul the First discovered the traitors he rooted them out. We’ve been rooting Guarders out ever since!”
Astonishingly, Perrin slowly shook his head.
Mahrree’s shoulders fell. “Wha—, Perrin?”
The woman kneeled down in front of Mahrree. The action was so unexpected that Mahrree quit spluttering and sat down clumsily on the sofa to see what odd thing the woman would do next.
“Mahrree Shin, Guide Pax wasn’t killed. The men guarding him were not traitors. They were his assistants, his brothers, and his protectors.”
“So what happened to him?” Mahrree snapped. “Tell me that!”
“I would love to!” she said with a radiant smile. “It was King Querul and Guide Pax who had disagreements. It was King Querul’s guards who were told to kill Pax. And it was those guards who betrayed Querul, not the other way around. The guards supported the Guide, and told Pax that Querul wanted him and all other followers of The Writings dead. King Querul feared that the followers would destroy his kingdom and power by protesting his changes to the world. Pax recognized much could be resolved in letting Querul believe he was successful. So Pax and the guards went into the forest up toward Mt. Deceit, just as Querul wanted. They found a route past Moorland to a new land. The guards then left Pax and a few of his men, returned to Moorland, killed a deer in the forest, bloodied their cloaks and hands, and allowed themselves to be captured.”
Mahrree sat breathless, unable to believe what she was hearing, yet desperately hoping it was true.
“Querul told the world he executed the guards for their treachery, but in reality he rewarded them for eliminating his greatest enemy. A few nights later he released the seven guards to escape from Idumea, their pockets filled with reward gold. They split up and went to different villages of the world, bringing word to others who were devoted to Pax that they’d found a new home. They went to every village to bring the good news, along with directions of how to get there, and even a bit of gold to help them leave. Querul’s reward gold became the means for moving more than two thousand men, women, and children.”
Mahrree couldn’t move, too stunned to even blink.
All the history she knew so well was just Querul’s story.
His-story.
“After a few hundred people disappeared, Querul became suspicious. But after two weeks and more than two thousand people missing, he began to realize something was quite wrong. That’s when he fabricated his story about Guarders, about a people living in a secret society out to betray and destroy the world.” The light in the woman’s face dimmed and her voice quieted. “We lost almost four hundred people who tried to join our ancestors. They were tracked down and killed by Querul’s soldiers. After that we had to establish secret ways to move them.” Her face brightened considerably. “And we did. We’ve been very successful ever since. The division of the world did happen, Mahrree Shin! And it’s still happening!”
The words, as soft and sweetly as the woman delivered them, hit Mahrree with the force an ice storm. Yet still she was filled with enormous heat and tears flooded her eyes. So conflicted and surprised, she didn’t know what to think. It was too much to believe. It was too good to be true . . .
She looked at Perrin.
He was leaning forward in his chair, arms resting on his legs, watching her intently. “In a way, Pax was an explorer.”
The dark woman smiled at Perrin’s explanation. “We’re not as you’ve been told. Your kings and now Administrators ignore all evidence of us. To keep your people here t
hey had to control you with fear of the unknown, just like a parent tells of dangers of wild beasts to keep a child within arm’s reach. And it’s worked, very well,” she said with a sad smile. “The children of the governments have never questioned their leaders. Even when they were mature enough to realize the truth could be something entirely different.”
A memory buried deep in the back of Mahrree’s mind suddenly flared up, filling her again with such heat and light it nearly knocked her off the sofa.
She gulped as the woman smiled at her. “Mrs. Shin, a long time ago you were told that ‘someday’ would come for you. Do you remember that night?”
Oh, yes. All of it rushed back to her, memories that she tried to forget. The forest. The woman—
Almost sixteen years ago she watched her husband riding along the forest’s edge trying to discern what was disturbing the woods. That night she decided that she would discover the truth about the Guarders. She ran into the forest, was surprised by a woman, was too cowardly to find the truth . . .
Perrin stared at her, mystified, with his eyebrows furrowed.
The woman in front of her seemed to read it all on Mahrree’s face. “Do these words sound familiar to you, Mrs. Shin? ‘There will be a day when you will be ready to leave it all behind and embrace the truth. Until then, think of this night never again. Should your mind ever find itself surprised by this memory, tell yourself it was just a vivid dream, for that’s all it really is. You can practice looking at the world in different ways, preparing your mind to realize you know really nothing at all, looking at the sky and realizing it changes minute by second, but until that someday comes, nothing will ever quite make sense. That’s all right. But when that day does come, everything will hit you with such finality and power you will never again be able to forget it or deny it. You will find the truth and run to it.’”
“Dear Creator!” was all Mahrree could whisper as the words she forced herself to forget reformed themselves clearly in her mind. She’d almost forgotten that a day would come for her.
And now . . . ?
Mahrree gasped. “She was one of you!”
“Mahrree?” Perrin asked sharply, “What’s this all about?”
How could she tell him about the time she was a naïve 31-year-old who thought her husband and father-in-law were cowards? That she ran straight into a Guarder and shrank away from the truth? That she found their massive black dog Barker bounding through the forest, most likely acting as the distraction that had frustrated her husband and the fort all day long.
The kneeling woman somehow knew it all. “It means, Mr. Shin, that your wife is ready to hear the truth. And whatever it is, and wherever it is, she’ll accept it.”
“I will,” Mahrree breathed. “But this is still all so unbelievable.”
“Tell me a truth,” Perrin demanded, his squint becoming cynical.
The visitor nodded. “Gladly. So well has your Administrators poisoned your minds against us that rarely has anyone set foot on your mountains beyond the forest. We know. We watch. We always have. We were always ready to welcome your people. But the lies were so readily accepted that no truth could enter your imaginations.” She leaned closer to Mahrree. “We’re a simple people who have a beautiful life. We’re not violent. We don’t raid your lands, and we never have.” She turned to Perrin before she dropped the next sentence. “Your own people do that.”
“Possible,” he conceded. “We’ve suspected for years that Guarders were living among us. Riplak. Kuman. Maybe even old Wiles. But I imagine it’s more widespread than I suspected.”
The woman nodded grimly. “It is. The Guarders have always been a secret group, but secret among your own citizens. An army needs an enemy, correct? The kings knew it, and so do the Administrators. If you don’t have an enemy to fight, you begin to fight among yourselves. I believe you’ve seen that in the past year, ever since you eliminated the Guarders in Moorland.”
Perrin let out a low whistle. “Yes, yes we have. With the land grab. You say the Administrators know? Who? How many?”
“Unsure,” she shook her head. “If we knew we could have much more success in exposing them. But we suspect at the top it’s a very small number. Maybe just a couple.”
“Maybe just Nicko Mal?” Perrin said darkly.
The woman shrugged. “None of our people have been able to get close enough to him to know, but that’s what we believe.”
Perrin nodded, his jaw working in thought.
“But,” Mahrree said, trying to organize the onslaught of information that was overwhelming her, “You said you watch us from the forests?”
“Yes, we have for years,” she smiled again. “And not just from the forests. We live among you too. We’ve always sent scouts. Some spend just a few seasons, some a few years. We watch and help as we can.”
“Who do you send?” Mahrree asked, still in disbelief.
The woman beamed. “You met one just recently. Mrs. Braxhicks, the midwife? She came to your daughter a few weeks ago.”
“She—, Why—, Yes—” She remembered: Mrs. Braxhicks knew how to check the color of the sky.
“We have a midwife in every village and even in Idumea now,” the woman explained. “We started over twenty years ago. Some of our midwives have gotten themselves in trouble by being too vocal, but we’ve never lost one yet. We’re trying now to undo the Administrators’ damage. Mrs. Braxhicks is hoping to convince them to change some things in their new handbook. We have much better ways. And, I don’t know if you noticed, there are very few of your women who want to be midwives. Your people have so few babies now.”
“I liked her,” Mahrree considered. “She seemed to know what she was doing.”
“She does. She has twelve children herself.”
“Twelve!” Mahrree gasped.
“And she’s delivered hundreds more. Edge needs someone like her. Your daughter needs her. That’s why she’s here.”
Before Mahrree could question how the woman knew about their daughter, Perrin fidgeted. “Who else has Salem supplied?”
Mahrree heard the growing paranoia in his voice. She was feeling a bit paranoid herself.
“Idumea and the world no longer have much use for midwives, and they also have little use for rectors,” she told him. “So for the past few years, all rectors have come from Salem as well.”
Perrin sat up with a small yet irritated smile. “Did you have a little old rector . . .” he snapped his fingers trying to remember the name.
The woman laughed lightly. “Are you thinking of one who several seasons ago caused a ‘little disturbance’ in the traffic of Edge? Before your attack on Moorland? Rector Chame?”
“Yes!” Perrin slapped his leg. “He’s yours?”
She nodded. “And he was mortified by it. When he returned he told us all about it, and how it was all worth it because he got to meet you. He’s still quite remorseful. Perhaps you could let him know that you forgive him?”
Perrin nodded, the tension in his face easing briefly. “He said he had known about me for years. I couldn’t figure out what that meant.”
“We have known about you for years. We’ve watched you from the forests.”
“So, is Rector Yung . . .?” Mahrree began.
She nodded again. “One of us as well, yes. He returned to us, with several other rectors, right after Mr. Shin resigned and the Administrators said they were no longer needed.”
“Unbelievable!” Perrin whispered.
“And Mrs. Shin? That night I just spoke of?” the woman said gently. “The woman you met in the forest was his wife.”
Mahrree covered her mouth with her hand, but Perrin jerked in surprise.
“Mahrree? You? In the forest?”
“That was Mrs. Yung?” Mahrree asked the woman, unable to face her husband just yet. “She was . . . she was . . .”
“One of our best scouts, especially in the trees,” the woman explained. “She passed away peacefully some years ago, i
n her sleep. But that night many years ago she wrote down the words she spoke to you, so that we could tell you them when the time was right.”
Perrin held his hands out, his patience gone. “MAHREE?!”
She gulped.
His expression was dreadful.
“I’ll tell you later. I promise.” She turned back to their visitor who, strangely, seemed safer for the moment. “Why are you all here?”
“To bring home those who should be with us, to Salem,” the woman explained. “There are many in the world who feel disaffected by it. It no longer reflects their beliefs or hopes. They’re alone and lost, and looking for something more. The Creator plants in all of us a seed of hope. Some people let it die. Some deliberately crush it. Some let others destroy it. But there are those who protect it and help it grow. They know something more is out there and they look for it. Does this sound familiar to you?”
It was so familiar it was if she were reading their minds.
Perrin cleared his throat roughly, forgetting for the moment about his wife’s unexplained visit to the forest. “Yes,” his voice cracked.
Mahrree nodded, tears trickling down her face which she brushed away. She thought of Guide Hierum again, pleading with the first families to not reject the society the Creator had established for them. So often she had read his last words, uttered just before he was killed by the six men who formed Idumea, that she could hear them in her head again.
But instead of feeling sorrow for a lost way of living, she felt . . .
“We have what you’re looking for in Salem,” the woman promised. “We follow The Writings. We allow people to think, to grow, and to explore. We even allow them to disagree and debate! But mostly we are of one mind and one heart. We live after the way the Creator established the first five hundred families. We even teach our children to notice the true color of the sky.”
Mahrree knew what she was feeling: hope. For the first time in weeks—years—hope.
“Everyone has a place there. Perrin Shin, Mahrree Shin—there is room for you as well. And for your children.”
“It’d be so convenient to believe you,” Perrin said, his voice still shaky. “But also so difficult. This could be an elaborate hoax. I gullibly surrender to you, and then what? I get turned over to the Guarders, who you still may very well be. Perhaps they’ve sent you here to take me so they can have revenge for what I did to Moorland. He certainly looks like one of them!”