“The Creator’s last guide, the last man worthy to add to The Writings and receive guidance from the Creator for us, was gone. Several of the guards with him were found later with blood on their hands and uniforms. That’s when the awful reality was known—Querul’s guards had betrayed the man they were to be guarding. Instead of helping Pax find a peaceful solution, they butchered him. We’ve called the tallest mountain where that occurred ‘Mt. Deceit’ ever since. The guards were captured by Querul and executed for their treachery, but that didn’t convince their associates to stop their rebellion. Over 2,000 people during the next few weeks made mad dashes to the forests north of us, to escape Querul’s fury. It would have been one thing to let the men—Guarders, as someone decided to call them—leave and finally end the battles, but no. Husbands and fathers forced their wives and children into the forests as well. The families had to abandon their homes, farms and shops, and flee to the wild north. Some of those men were even assistants to the guide. That’s likely how he was betrayed—by his deceitful friends. They entered the forests between and near the villages of Sands, Scrub, Moorland, and even Edge.”
“And all of them were part of the secret groups,” Teeria said as she wrote on her slate.
“That’s right. And the name ‘Guarders’ took on a somewhat ironic meaning. Now the only thing they guard is whatever they steal from us. King Querul—indeed, no one—understood that there was a secret society living among us. This society had their own oaths, connections, and even methods of communication. Every village was affected with these spies and traitors to the king and the world. It was these people Guide Pax was hoping to find a new home for, who prolonged the war and were to be divided away from the rest of the world. But it seems they initially didn’t want to go. They enjoyed aggravating the magistrates of the villages, tiring the law enforcers with their mischief, and taunting the Army of Idumea to continue the war.
“But when Guide Pax was lost, King Querul was enraged,” she told them as she slowly paced the class room. “He demanded all the traitors in each village be discovered and brought to Idumea for trial. That’s when houses turned up empty, store shops abandoned, and farms left alone. In the middle of the night for weeks on end, people darted in and out of trees in a race for the north, thieving as they went and damaging property wherever they could. There was even one family captured by law enforcers just outside of Edge. They had travelled all the way from Flax at the other end of the world, on the coast of the southern sea, just to escape.”
The girls’ mouths dropped open.
“That’s an incredible distance!” Sareen said with a sad giggle. “Don’t people die travelling that far?”
Mahrree shrugged. “One hundred thirty miles is a long way to go, but apparently not life-threatening.”
“What happened to the family?” Hitty asked warily.
“The travel didn’t kill them, but their treachery did,” Mahrree said softly. “They were brought to Idumea, tried, found guilty, and executed.”
The girls looked at each other, aghast.
“Children, too?” asked Teeria.
Mahrree pressed her lips together. She skimmed over these details when she taught the history to her younger group, but the teenage girls were ready to know the terrible truths. While Querul the first wasn’t the greatest leader the world could have desired, his intention was to bring peace to the land. “King Querul felt the children were under the poisonous influence of their parents, so naturally they would grow up to be traitors too.”
“Was that really necessary?” Teeria’s voice was almost a whisper.
“Excellent question,” Mahrree told her. “What do you think?”
Teeria glanced around the room at the other girls, likely hoping to see an answer on one of their faces.
Hitty tried. “If children are taught one thing by their parents, then . . . they usually stay with what they were taught. So . . . those children might have continued their parents’ rebellion when they got older. I mean, if your parents are dead, wouldn’t you be mad about who killed them?”
Mahrree was tempted to nod, but instead looked around for another opinion.
Teeria fingered her dark braid, thinking.
Another girl piped up. “But you could retrain those children, couldn’t you? Teach them that their parents’ stealing and fights they kept starting with the army were wrong. Then they’d change their ways!”
Teeria turned to her, “Yes, but who would do that retraining to—”
Mahrree began to smile. That was the point she loved in teaching, when the girls turned from facing her and expecting to get the answers from the “authority,” to probing the difficult questions among themselves. It was when they debated each other that the lessons were remembered.
This was why the what-color-is-the-sky debate was so crucial: people tend to trust whoever sets themselves up as the authorities, but at some point each person needs to look at what’s claimed and test it. Is the sunset really pink, or is it more of an orange? What do you see?
Now none of the girls were facing Mahrree, who was leaning smugly against the large slate board at the front of the room, but they were instead arguing heatedly as to whether children could be forced to think differently than they’d been taught. If she were alone, Mahrree would have whopped for joy. She would, later, in celebration of another successful day.
But right now, she had a growing shouting match she had to gently calm. She learned years ago how to do so: with another question.
“Teeria,” she said in a quiet but firm voice that cut through the arguing of the girls.
Eight heads turned to look at her, as if surprised she was still there.
“Teeria, if a group of Guarders were to steal you away from your home today and try to tell you that everything your parents, government, and even your teacher has been telling you is a lie, what would it take for you to believe them?”
Mahrree looked at all of the girls silenced by her query. “Any of you? What would they have to do to convince you that the truths you’ve been taught are distortions?”
After a thoughtful moment, Teeria sighed loudly. “I really don’t know, Miss Mahrree. Depending on how convincing they were, I might not be able to figure out what the truth is about anything. I might end up not believing anyone anymore.”
Several of the girls nodded in agreement.
“So that would be worse?” Hitty wondered. “People who can’t figure out what to believe?”
“Maybe the real question, Hitty,” Mahrree said, “is what would it take to make you change your mind about everything you’re sure to know to be true? That’s the question for all of you, isn’t it? Who do you trust?”
The girls thoughtfully stared at their desks.
“Parents? Friends?” Teeria suggested. “Neighbors? Teachers? Certainly the government could—”
Mahrree couldn’t listen anymore, because her ears were stuck on the words “the government.” Cynical thoughts once again flooded her mind. Did the Chairman and Administrators deserve her trust? They acted as if they already had it. As if they could just take it, not earn it. And no one was questioning that, were they? They collect our trust as easily as they collect our slips of silver twice a year. We wanted them to succeed so we trust them blindly. Foolishly. And they’re using that, taking it to the next step. If people stop arguing, stop thinking, and are just willing to take—to trust—whatever the authority dishes out, they’ll accept just about anything—
“Miss Mahrree?”
She looked around and, judging by the concerned looks on her students’ faces, realized that she had been lost in her own thoughts for probably a bit too long. A common occurrence for her.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Teeria just asked you,” Hitty said with a smirk, “Isn’t that the job of the government—to tell us what is the truth?”
This was her test, as a teacher. Yes, there were many influences in the lives of these girls, but none so power
ful as the one standing in front of them in that classroom. Even an administrator would struggle to have a greater effect on the girls than Mahrree would have right now. They looked at her for her opinion and most importantly, her approval.
And she had to treat such moments so carefully. It would be arrogant to believe that every day the girls hung on her every word, but at moments like this, when the debate had steered itself into a question that could someday affect the future of each student, Mahrree knew that in a very real way, she controlled the world.
At least, she controlled the way her students would see it.
She knew the answer the Administrators would want her to give. Of course the government exists to give you the truth! And the sky is blue. Always! Trust us!
She also knew the answer the Creator would want her to give, and it was His approval she was more concerned about.
Mahrree slowly smiled before she began to recite, “‘Test all things, as we are tested. Try all things, to discover the truths for yourself.’”
She could feel the tension in the room drain away as she continued to recite the words of The Writings. “‘The truth of all things will manifest themselves to those who sincerely want to know.’”
Her students smiled and visibly relaxed. They could always count on her to quote The Writings.
“Miss Mahrree,” Hitty began soberly, tossing her braid with much less energy, “I was just wondering—we know what the kings have done, but have the Administrators executed anyone?”
A new wave of anxiousness filled the room.
“In the past two years, not that I’ve heard of, Hitty,” Mahrree said with a reassuring smile. “Let’s pray it always stays that way.”
“The captain would never execute anyone,” Sareen giggled nervously. “Would he, Miss Mahrree? I heard he claimed he was never part of a killing squad.”
“But he would kill a Guarder, right?” Teeria said gravely.
Mahrree shrugged again. “You’d have to ask him. But I don’t know why else he’s here.”
The girls covered their mouths and snickered at the idea of speaking to the captain. Mahrree groaned at their sudden return to silliness.
“Why don’t you ask him, Miss Mahrree?” another girl suggested. “At the next debate!”
A lump appeared in her throat. She hadn’t mentioned anything about another debate, but apparently they already knew.
“If it comes up, I’ll try to remember to ask. Back to the Guarders.” She cleared her throat, grateful for diversion from the captain. “For years the villages on the outer rim of the world dealt with raids for goods, livestock, and occasionally people. Sands and Grasses in the west, and Trades in the southwest seemed to take the brunt of the attacks. Only occasionally would Guarders venture into Moorland or Edge. Our villages are much smaller and aren’t as wealthy. The Army of Idumea fought those raids and killed many of the Guarders, but never eradicated all of them. The Guarders always raided at night, wore black clothing, and smeared soot or oil on their faces to keep themselves concealed. The last time any Guarders raided here was maybe thirty years ago, although there have been rumors that someone was seen lurking in the forest. It seemed that every time a new king came to power, the Guarders came to test his power. Once pushed back, the Guarders retreated back to the forests. That’s why the forests are off-limits. Only fools would dare venture into them. If the poisonous gasses, bottomless crevices, and hot water doesn’t kill the stupidly curious, Guarders will.”
“So why are the Guarders coming back now, Miss Mahrree?” Hitty asked again.
Mahrree sighed. “I can only guess they’re testing the strength of the world. Remember, the Guarders now are descendants of the original 2,000 that left. All they know is that a king forced their ancestors away. I assume they came to take revenge each time one of the king’s sons or descendants took the throne. They may not even know the last descendent was deposed two years ago. How they know anything about us, I couldn’t begin to guess.”
One quiet girl with doe-like eyes, and a nervous demeanor to accompany it, timidly raised her hand. “Miss Mahrree?” she squeaked, “I think they’re already back. My good stockings went missing from the line three days ago.”
This was what Mahrree was hoping to avoid, the “Guarder Snatched!” rumors. Oh, they flew on and off for years, whenever anything was pinched or lost—Guarders stole it! Yes, Guarders were now desperate for stockings.Children seemed to rely on that excuse, especially when a goat wandered away or the winds from the canyons were particularly strong and blew around items that were supposed to be secured into houses, sheds, or cellars.
Just as the winds were three days ago.
But adults were just as gullible. And manipulative. Anything questionable was attributed to Guarders. They were convenient to explain why a philandering husband came home late at night: “Thought I saw a Guarder! Had to investigate! I tracked him until he rushed off into the forest . . .”
Or why livestock vanished during the night, then mysteriously showed up later in someone else’s barn. “Why, the Guarder must have had second thoughts about that cow, tried to return it, and mistakenly brought it to my place instead. Really, I can’t imagine any other reason why she’s here. Why of course you can have her back . . .”
Adults even thought leaving a candle lit in the window might frighten away potential thieves. If it looked as if someone was still awake, the Guarders wouldn’t think of raiding the house now, would they? Mahrree thought it was all just a waste of tallow, especially since accidental late night fires caused more damage than the Guarders ever did.
But stories were powerful, and the less credible they were, the stronger they seemed to grow. Mahrree was always perplexed as to why people were more intrigued by gossip than truth. And the rumors gave the Guarders more influence than they likely realized. If they knew the control they already possessed—even with being absent from Edge for decades—they probably wouldn’t have stayed away so long. As far as Edgers were concerned, they were already here and causing havoc.
But Mahrree still hoped she might be able to keep the next generation from believing such ridiculous tales. Right now each girl was rapidly turning pale in fear that Guarders suddenly developed a desire for teenage girls’ underthings.
“Gia, just how windy was it the night your stockings disappeared?”
The poor girl gulped. “Very?”
“And have you checked your neighbors’ yard for your stockings?”
“No?”
“You might want to.”
“But my older sister’s uh . . . unmentionables are also missing!”
Mahrree sighed. “Is she still courting that boy next door to you? What was his name?” Mahrree rarely knew who the teenage boys were, since they were taught in another school, but occasionally their names were lovingly scrawled on the margins of her students’ work.
Gia squirmed as a couple of girls tittered. “Um, yes?”
“Please don’t answer everything with a question! Now, Gia—I may not know a lot about young men, but I do suspect that unmentionables flying in the breeze next door just might be a temptation for a hot-blooded boyfriend. And personally, I think he’s a much bigger worry to your family than Guarders.”
Gia turned purple as the other girls giggled.
One rumor put down.
At least temporarily.
“But where could the Guarders live?” Teeria pored over her notes on the slate, baffled. “How many are there?”
“Again, no one knows. If we did, we could end all of this once and for all. When I was a girl we thought the Guarders retreated to the mountains and lived up in the higher valleys. But it seems they may have never left the forests. And now, they’re interested in our villages.”
Several of the girls shuddered.
“How many soldiers are coming to Edge?” Sareen giggled worriedly.
“You’ll have to ask the captain that, Sareen.”
“Hope it’s a lot,” she muttered
with unexpected heaviness. All of the girls nodded in sober agreement.
“And I hope they’re as handsome as the captain,” murmured another girl.
Mahrree closed her eyes as the girls tittered again.
Teeria raised her hand. “Miss Mahrree? Just one more question.” She looked over her slate, examining her tight writing that filled to every corner of it. “Now, where was it . . .”
Mahrree smiled. Today had been a success, full of questions and many not easily answered—
“—because you know my mother . . . always ready to question me on everything . . . now I thought it was right about . . .”
Ideally the girls would take those hard questions home and discuss them during dinner with their parents. That, Mahrree thought in satisfaction, would be the perfect way to end this day. Just one more hard question to mull over together—
“Ah, here it is.” Teeria looked up studiously. “What my mother really wanted me to ask: exactly what color were the captain’s eyes? Black or dark brown? She was sitting too far away to see.”
---
That afternoon as Mahrree visited the market, she fretted. But not about serious issues such as Guarders, or possible changes in education, or why she was suddenly distrustful of the Administrators. Oh no, she was far too silly to think about important things.
Everything had been going just fine until Teeria asked the question about the captain’s eyes. Then Mahrree felt the same flustering heat as last night on the platform, and spluttered for a few seconds before blurting out, “Brown. Very deep, dark chestnut brown.”
She didn’t need eight teenage girls squealing and bursting into laughter to know she’d turned red. She hoped that her students were the only ones to notice that the captain had an effect on her. Well, the Densals knew it, too. And so did her mother. But maybe that was all.
As she worked her way through the market, she realized it was maybe a few more people than that. More villagers than usual waved at her, and several mentioned they’d be closing up their shops early on the night of her next debate. She was sure she blushed redder every time someone mentioned it. Fortunately Rector Densal would be bringing her the topic that night so she could prepare.
The Forest at the Edge of the World Page 9
