Marysvale

by Jared Southwick

  “John,” I replied without offering my hand. “And yours?”

  He gave a little laugh, like I’d made a joke. “He doesn’t know who I am,” he said to his friends, who also laughed. “Surely Jane has mentioned to you the name of General Lyman Wright.”

  I shook my head and then paused, as if I had just remembered something. He drew himself up, pleased by my apparent recognition. “Unless…you’re related to Governor Wright?”

  This deflated him slightly.

  “He is my father,” he acknowledged dryly. No doubt living in his father’s shadow was a constant thorn in his side.

  Knowing I shouldn’t, but unable to resist, I pushed the barb in deeper.

  “Ah, that must explain how you made general so young.”

  Instantly, I regretted it. He grew dark and much more dangerous than he had previously appeared. He was like a lethal knife, best left in its sheath, unprovoked. Of course, foolishly, I had to take it out and play with it. His face burned red and he took a menacing step closer; his hand hovered over the hilt of his sword. Leaning in, he hissed, “I can see you are foolish enough to need lessons about respecting your superiors. As your tutor, I can assure you, it is a challenge I am up to.”

  “Thank you, Lyman,” said a refined, commanding voice.

  Lyman looked sour, as if his fun had just been interrupted.

  “We mustn’t be rude—especially when he is not familiar with our laws and customs yet.”

  I glanced behind him and saw an older man who looked remarkably similar to Lyman and whom I assumed to be his father.

  “Yes, my lord,” replied Lyman, with just the slightest hint of sarcasm.

  I wondered if his father caught the distain; it appeared he hadn’t, or at least he didn’t let on if he had.

  Escorted by even more guards, Governor Wright was dressed elegantly in silk. He wore black, buckled shoes with white stockings, breeches, a matching waistcoat, and a frilly kerchief. A decorative coat, and an ornate cane with a gold handle, finished his ensemble. He, too, wore a powdered wig underneath a black, three cornered hat, edged in gold. Because of his speech and attire, he indeed looked like a leader. Unfortunately, though common enough, choosing a leader based on these factors alone is usually a costly mistake.

  “And who is our guest?” he asked, referring to me with a kindly smile, that was betrayed by his hard and equally unsmiling eyes. I instantly got the impression that he was not stupid, but cunningly dangerous and not to be trifled with.

  “My name is John Casey, sir.”

  “These fine officers here are called sirs,” he said gesturing at Lyman and his friends. “Please be so good as to refer to them as such. As for myself, I am Lord Wright,” he continued in a patronizing tone. Though his voice was groomed and calculated to inspire trust, with me, it had the opposite effect. I cringed at the self-proclaimed title. I’d never taken to people who elevated themselves above others, especially at another’s expense. However, now wasn’t the time to make a statement, so I corrected myself and said, “Yes, my lord.”

  He smiled that his lesson had been received.

  “That is better. Where do you hail from, John?”

  “Syre, my lord.”

  “That is quite a distance, and no doubt a fascinating tale—one I simply must hear after you have had time to rest and clean up a bit. Perhaps tomorrow you would be so good as to accompany me for dinner, and we can welcome you properly.”

  I had an uneasy feeling. I didn’t like his curiosity in me, nor did I want to stay that long. Nevertheless, seeing no other choice, I said, “I’d be honored, my lord.”

  “Excellent.”

  He glanced around at the group with his eyes lingering on Jane, a little too long for my comfort, before moving on to Smoke.

  “What an exquisite animal,” he proclaimed. “He must be very fast and strong to escape the Brean—and carrying such a heavy load.” Then expectantly, he asked, “And what is in the packs?”

  Jane and Hannah tensed.

  He looked at me for a reply.

  “Food, my lord,” I said simply.

  “How splendid.”

  Then, addressing a nondescript town guard, he ordered, “You, take this food to the minister of welfare.”

  “But…” said Hannah, a little too resolutely.

  “Yes, child?” replied Lord Wright, in that feigned fatherly voice, but with an edge to it this time.

  Oh no, please don’t say anything rash. I thought, wishing she’d just kept her mouth shut.

  Wisely, she moderated her tone and said meekly, “We were hoping to bring it to my father.”

  “My dear, that food could do quite a bit of good for many. You would not really want to keep it all to yourself, now would you? Not when your fellow citizens could benefit from it as well.”

  Hannah started to protest, but I cut her off.

  “He’s right, Hannah. If it will help the greater good, then that’s where it should go. I’m sure they’ll do their best to help your father.”

  Forgetting all pretense of kindness, Lord Wright replied, “John is right. And he has learned in just a few minutes what is taking you much too long to grasp—that is respect and trust. Your father should have been a more competent teacher for you in that regard.”

  Hannah didn’t appear to catch the change in his voice, nor the hardness in his eyes, but I could sense the approaching danger. His personal guards did, too. They now seemed suddenly interested in the exchange, and I even felt some eagerness from them. For what? I asked myself. The possibility of teaching her that lesson? Whatever it was, it would be best left undiscovered.

  She took a deep breath, ready to try again.

  I shot her the hardest look I could muster and screamed in my head, Hold your tongue, Hannah.

  She didn’t notice. Jane, standing next to her, did. She slipped her hand into Hannah’s and squeezed so hard that Hannah nearly cried out in pain, but she got the message and fell quiet.

  Lord Wright glared a moment at Hannah, to make sure she was finished. Then he barked at another town guard, “Take the horses to the stable and make sure they are cared for and watered.”

  His use of the words “the horses” and not “their horses” was not lost on me, and my heart sank. Lord Wright eyed me with curiosity as I watched them lead Smoke away. Finally, in his artificially pleasant voice, he said, “Until tomorrow then. An escort will fetch you when it is time.”

  I nodded. “Very good, my lord.”

  He turned. “Come Lyman, we are finished here. I am sure Captain Smith is capable of taking care of things.”

  “I will be along in a moment,” said Lyman. With his eyes glued on me, he added, “I am not finished yet.”

  “Yes, you are,” said Lord Wright firmly.

  He glared at his father’s back, who was already striding up the road with his guards. Then, after a brief hesitation, he obediently followed, with his friends accompanying him.

  As the group neared an intersection, an adolescent boy, holding an armload of goods, bolted around the corner and collided with Lord Wright, his items scattering everywhere. One of Lord Wright’s guards caught him and kept the governor from toppling over. Wide-eyed and terrified, the boy scrambled to his knees and begged the lord’s forgiveness. Wright, his face red with rage, kicked the boy to the ground, stepped over him, and continued up the street.

  For a moment, I thought that would be the end of it; but then Lord Wright snapped his fingers. Instantly, one of his guards hauled the boy to his feet and held him while another pummeled the boy savagely with his fists.

  Instinctively, I took a step forward, but a hand restrained me.

  Jane whispered into my ear, “Please stop. It won’t do any good. They will still beat the boy and you. I knew she was right, and felt sick at not being able to do anything. So, I held my ground.

  Lord Wright continued without even looking back, as did Lyman and the others.

  After what felt like an eternity, the
boy went limp and the guards finally let him slump to the ground. He lay unmoving in the wake of the lord’s retreating bodyguards.

  “Is he dead?” asked Hannah.

  “No,” I replied. “But that doesn’t mean he won’t die.” Seeing Hannah’s face fall, I added, “However, he’s young, so I believe he has a good chance of living.”

  Once the guards were out of sight, several villagers scurried out, gently scooped up the boy and his belongings, and carried him gingerly away.

  Hannah’s tone suddenly changed, “Why did you let them take our food?” she demanded. “Now Father has nothing to eat! Lord Wright has no plans of giving any of that to us.”

  “Hannah, we didn’t have a choice,” said Jane trying to calm her.

  “But he didn’t even try!” She cried, thrusting her finger at me.

  “There wasn’t anything to try,” I said, a little irritated that I had to defend myself for protecting her, “except to keep you from making matters worse.”

  Her face turned red. Captain Smith stepped in.

  “He’s right. You’ve gotten away with things in the past, because of your youth; but it looks like that’s coming to an end. You could have been in a lot of trouble, and likely even pain now, if John here hadn’t stepped in—and he only got away with interrupting because he’s new.”

  Hannah started to argue, “Lord Wright…” but I cut her off. I was angry at her insistence to keep fighting us, especially in light of what just happened to the boy.

  I said, through gritted teeth, “You’ve a lot to learn about people and when it’s appropriate to keep quiet.”

  She looked taken aback by my tone and forcefulness. I saw hurt on her face and realized what she must have felt, after risking such a dangerous journey, only to return without food for her father; and I felt sorry for her. I softened and took her by the hand. She tried to pull away, but I held it firmly.

  “Hannah,” I said, now subdued and sympathetic. “I care for you and don’t want to see you hurt; but you were in danger. Not even his son will dispute him. He’s a very dangerous man and not to be argued with.”

  “I know that,” she said softly. “But you don’t have to watch your father starve to death because he gives all his food to you. It’s worse than starving ourselves.”

  “Then trust me. You’ll bring food to your father.”

  “I don’t see how—they control all the food.”

  Leaning forward, I whispered so only she could hear, “Now would be a good time to take my advice and keep quiet. If you noticed, the horse I was riding was considerably lighter.”

  She looked confused, but only for a split second before she grasped my meaning.

  “Oh, the packs,” she whispered.

  I nodded slightly. “I think I can work at a deal to go and get them, but…”

  “Hey,” growled Captain Smith in his brusque voice. “What are you two whispering about?”

  I decided now was as good a time as any to put the information I had gathered from him to the test.

  “You look a little hungry,” I replied.

  “Aren’t we all?”

  “I have a proposition for you.”

  He laughed, “And what can you offer me?”

  “Food,” I replied simply.

  His smile faded, as he tried to figure out if this was a joke. “Go on then.”

  “How well can you trust your men?” I asked.

  He glanced up at the guards, now gazing out into the woods, and replied, “I can arrange for the right men to be on duty at the next shift; but that depends on what you’re asking them to do.”

  “I’m asking them to do nothing but keep their mouths shut.” I explained about the packs of food I had cut loose.

  “Now that I know about them,” he said thoughtfully, “what’s to keep me from just getting them myself?”

  I studied him for a moment. He shifted his weight, uncomfortable with my gaze.

  “Well?” he asked again.

  “I suppose nothing; except you don’t know where they are.”

  “I watched you come in. I’m sure I could find them.”

  “Yes, but don’t you think it would be a little suspicious to have a group of your men searching the field? It’s bound to raise questions. I suppose you could do it yourself, but the grass is long enough that it’d take time, and you’d be out there alone without any protection from your men.”

  He pondered that.

  I pressed on, “What’s more, if something happens to me, then there would be no loss to you and few explanations.”

  He muttered something unintelligible, as if debating.

  “This is a pointless exchange,” I said. “You aren’t going to cheat us; you’re a better man than that.”

  He grumbled, “You would be surprised at what I’m capable of.”

  “I’m sure you’ve been forced to do terrible things, but you wouldn’t have done them if you’d had a choice…like you do now.”

  He pondered this and became lost in thought, perhaps remembering some deed he’d been forced to do.

  “Sun’s almost set,” he said, coming back to the present. “The guards will be changing here soon. Go up to that tower and wait for me.” He pointed to the one closest to the gate. “Be quick, before you’re noticed.”

  We scampered up the stone steps, along the top of the wall, through a weathered wooden door, and into the vacant tower. The inside was sparse: there were a few rickety chairs and a wobbly table that held a candle. On the table lay a parchment covered in writings, a quill, and a bottle of ink. The wall facing the forest was nonexistent from about mid-waist to the roof, giving the occupants a clear view of the woods. A small bookcase stood in the corner, opposite the opening, with a few muskets leaning against it. Its shelves contained pouches of ammunition and balls.

  Tired and sore from our journey, we sagged in the chairs and stared out at the empty woods. I longed to go back to Sarah’s. I missed the smell of her cooking and the quiet evenings sipping tea on the porch. I felt anxiety, wondering if she was hurt...or worse.

  I forced the panic out of my mind and concentrated on a plan to get us out of there.

  I looked at Jane and Hannah; both were unusually quiet.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “It’s this place,” said Hannah. “I hate it. It’s so depressing.”

  “And we are worried about Sarah,” added Jane.

  I sympathized.

  “Then let’s vow to leave Marysvale as quickly as possible,” I suggested, and they agreed.

  We lapsed back into silence for the remainder of our wait.

  Finally, the door flew open and Captain Smith entered the tower carrying a large sack. He closed the door, opened the sack, and pulled out a long rope. I looked at it, already knowing its purpose.

  “I can’t very well open the gate and let you through; the hinges are too loud and will draw attention,” he said in that gruff voice of his.

  I shrugged. “Going down a rope is fine with me.”

  He continued, “Men we can trust will be here soon; the guards are changing now. We’ll have to wait a little for the retiring watch to clear off and the new ones to settle down. It’ll be dark then. I hope you know where it is because I don’t know how you’re going to see. You’ll be seen if you carry any type of light.”

  “It won’t be a problem,” I assured him.

  He walked to the table and lit the candle. It cast a dim, yellow light in the stark, stone-cold tower.

  “Well, what do you think of our little town?” he asked, sitting in a chair that looked like it was only one more sit-down away from becoming kindling for a fire.

  “Lovely,” I said blandly.

  He laughed, “Don’t worry, it only gets worse.”

  “I don’t plan on staying long enough to find out.”

  “Really? Well, I think you’ll have a difficult time leaving.”

  “Why?”

  “I wouldn’t plan on getting y
our horses back.”

  “That’s not fair!” exclaimed Hannah. “They aren’t theirs; they can’t just steal them!”

  “Oh yes they can, missy. Since when has right and wrong ever mattered to them?”

  I tried to reassure Hannah. “Don’t worry. I knew what they were doing when they led the horses away. Besides, I’m not bothering to ask for them back.”

  “But you can’t just leave them; we’ll need them.”

  “I didn’t say I was going to leave them,” I said, trusting that Captain Smith wouldn’t tell of my plan.

  Comprehending, she exclaimed, “Oh!”

  “You still have another problem,” said Captain Smith. “These walls are built just as well to keep people in as they are to keep things out; and we have standing orders not to let anyone out.”

  “Good thing I know the captain of the guard,” I tried.

  “You’re not worth losing my life over,” he grunted.

  “But Jane got out on a horse before.”

  “I had different orders then, and they knew she was coming back. Times have changed.”

  “You just let them out a few days ago.”

  “No, I didn’t. They found another way out. It’s not that difficult to go over the wall on foot.”

  Our conversation was interrupted when two men entered the tower. Like the rest of the town guards, they were too thin, their clothes were threadbare, and their beards were scraggly.

  “It’s time,” said Captain Smith, not bothering to introduce us. He got up and, holding one end of the rope in his left hand, he took the other and threw it over the side of the wall. There was nowhere to secure it, so the three men held the rope and braced for my weight.

  Concerned, Jane whispered, “Be careful,” into my ear.

  “And be quick,” added Hannah.

  I climbed down the rope with ease and disappeared into the night. I retraced the course we’d taken. The grass was long and the night was dark. Clouds covered the stars and moon, which served me just fine—the darker, the better. I used my special sight to search for a patch of grass held down by the weight of four packs.

  I located them quickly, but retrieving them wouldn’t be a speedy process. They were too heavy for me to carry all at once, and without a horse, it would take even longer to transport them back to the tower. I tied two of the sacks together, and flung one over my chest and the other over my back. Because of the weight, running was out of the question; so I walked quickly, taking advantage of the opportunity to gain a greater appreciation for beasts of burden.