The Orchard of Hope

by Amy Neftzger

  Kelsey sensed what Maggie was thinking about. “At least there aren’t as many of them,” Kelsey said happily as she ate her food heartily.

  “But they’re still there, and I do think that we could talk to them if we tried.”

  “Did you see them?” Kelsey asked. “I know you did. You must have.” She shoved a forkful of pancakes dripping with syrup into her mouth. The sweet spongy cakes were heavenly after the coarse meals she’d been consuming on the journey. The spicy sausage was so tender that it didn’t take much effort to chew it.

  “Yes,” Maggie said as she nodded her head. “I saw them. I heard them. I think I even smelled them.”

  “And you think they can reason? Wolves are all instinct. I don’t even know if they can talk.” Kelsey turned to Roland. “Can they talk?” she asked him as she stuffed another bite of pancakes into her mouth.

  “Yes,” he replied. “But ability and willingness are two different things.”

  “What did he say?” Maggie eagerly asked after waiting for a few moments.

  “He said they can, but that they might not want to talk.”

  “I don’t know why anyone wouldn’t want to talk,” Maggie replied. “It’s the best way to handle anything.”

  Kelsey wanted to argue, but she was learning that sometimes the best answer is silence. Silence keeps friends.

  “Do you have a plan?” Maggie asked.

  “Go for the leader,” Kelsey said as she held one piece of bacon in each hand, alternating bites between each one.

  “What happens when you find the leader?”

  “Kill him,” Kelsey replied with a shrug. “Standard military practice. Once the leader is gone, the others will scatter. Most soldiers abandon their mission when the leader dies.”

  “Wolves aren’t soldiers. I don’t think they’re that organized.”

  “You’d be surprised,” Kelsey replied. “Just because they’re animals doesn’t mean that they don’t have a social structure or hierarchy.” She continued to take bites of bacon. “You don’t think they’re organized, but you believe they can negotiate?”

  “Well,” Maggie said as she picked up her fork and used it to roll a sausage across her plate. “I’m just saying that we don’t know what they’re capable of if we don’t know them, and we can’t get to know them if we don’t talk with them. These aren’t normal wolves, and we need to remember that.”

  Kelsey stopped chewing and stared at Maggie. She wanted to argue but knew she couldn’t. She stared at the whitewashed walls for a moment.

  “You’re right,” Kelsey said. “We don’t know them. We’re forming plans in the dark because we don’t know what we’re up against.” That was as far as her pride would allow her to go. She couldn’t agree to attempt discussions with the wolves, but she now understood why the king had sent Maggie. She did bring a different perspective. “They could have a very good reason for what they’re doing, but we can’t risk negotiating. It hasn’t worked in the past, and it’s too dangerous to attempt it again. We could lose people as well as the hope we currently have.”

  “It just seems to me that hope is something that everyone wants,” Maggie insisted. I understand why the wolves or any creature would try to take it. It seems natural.”

  “Which is why we need to protect it.”

  “Why can’t we protect it without bloodshed?” Maggie asked as she sat up straighter and spoke a little louder.

  Kelsey hesitated, opening up the chance for another woman across the table to speak up in agreement with Maggie.

  “We all agree with you, dear,” the elderly woman said. Kelsey quickly glanced over at Brother Michael to see if he was listening. He was. He quickly stood up to address the crowd.

  “Good morning, everyone!” he exclaimed cheerfully as he clasped his hands together. “We have a lot to cover today, and I think we should get started, even though we’re not all finished eating breakfast. We can begin general discussions here in the dining room, where everyone has an opportunity to speak an opinion. After an hour or two of open discussion, the council will go to a private room to continue the debate. Then the council will create a plan that we can put into action before the wolves return at dusk.” He glanced around the room with a smile on his face that was a little too cheerful in appearance to be natural. “Who wants to begin discussion?” he asked.

  “I think we should all begin discussion … with the wolves,” Maggie said loudly as she stood up.

  “It’s been tried,” Brother Michael said as he waved the suggestion away with his hand.

  “None of these people have tried it,” the elderly woman said as she pointed to Kelsey, Maggie and Roland. “We have representatives of the king. Maybe the wolves will listen to them because they have more authority.”

  “Thank you, Sister Clementine, but the wolves don’t want to negotiate,” Brother Michael said. “They’re wild. They don’t discuss, and they’ve done nothing but lie to us in the past. They can’t be trusted.” Almost all of the brothers indicated their agreement by nodding or speaking it aloud.

  “I know they’ve lied. I’m not saying the wolves are blameless, but we don’t believe in killing,” Sister Clementine replied. Several of the sisters shouted their approval of her message. “Killing and then determining who’s right by who’s left standing is barbaric. It’s no form of justice that any of us should be a part of. There are better ways to resolve the issue if we put our minds to it.”

  The Sisters of Mercy clapped their hands in applause. When the clapping died down, several other members of the group voiced suggestions or spoke their agreement with earlier statements. The discussion lasted for the full two hours. Kelsey had become bored during the first 30 minutes and pulled out her knife to examine the blade. It was still as sharp as it had ever been. Kelsey admired the well-crafted edge as she listened to each argument and point of view on the situation concerning the orchard. There were a lot of opinions in the room, and Kelsey wished she could cut through them all with her knife to create a space where she could breathe freely again. Too many opinions always seemed to make the air thick and more difficult to breathe.

  “We have a chance to harvest this crop of hope for the first time in months,” Brother Michael said as the council meeting began. “I’m open to attempting negotiation with the wolves, but as we all know, that tactic hasn’t worked in the past. If there’s any new approach that anyone can suggest, I’m willing to hear the suggestion.”

  “Maybe the problem isn’t the wolves,” Sister Clementine said quietly. Kelsey, still holding her knife and admiring the beautiful intricate carving on the handle, stopped at Sister Clementine’s statement and looked up. Now she began to pay more attention.

  “Is it us? Are we the problem?” Brother Michael asked as his face and neck turned bright red.

  “No,” Sister Clementine replied. “It’s the hope. It draws the wolves. Maybe we should get rid of it.”

  “What?” Brother Michael said. Then he shook his head. “That’s not an option.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because our job is to cultivate hope for the nation. No one can be successful at anything without hope. The king, the people – we all need it.”

  “But if that hope is placing everyone in danger, then it should go,” Sister Clementine replied with conviction in her voice. “It’s not worth the risk of getting hurt. We can’t trust the wolves to negotiate because they’re liars, but perhaps we should surrender the trees to the wolves and allow them to take the hope away. Once they get what they want, they’ll leave us alone, and we’ll be safe.”

  “We can’t do that, Brother Michael said. “That would be treason!”

  “Why not? Why can’t we?”

  “Because this hope belongs to the king. It isn’t ours to dispose of as we wish. If we make a present of the hope and give it away, then we would be the thieves instead of the wolves. Us!” As Brother Michael spoke his voice grew louder with each word.

  “It’s too
dangerous to keep it around. Hope will get us killed,” Sister Clementine said forcefully.

  “Hope doesn’t kill,” Roland said calmly.

  “I suppose you would know better than any of us about that,” Sister Clementine replied.

  “But that doesn’t mean the solution has to involve killing,” Roland said. “In fact, the king would prefer we not kill the wolves, if at all possible.”

  “Who wants to talk with them then?” Brother Michael asked as he stared at Maggie. His eyes narrowed as he studied her calm expression. “Who wants to talk to the big bad wolves with enormous teeth and sharp fangs and powerful jaws that could crush a little girl before she had a chance to ask any questions?”

  “Enough!” Kelsey shouted as she slammed the tip of her knife into the table top. The effect was dramatic, and Brother Michael immediately sat down in his chair. “We need a plan. Now, we have an advantage in that the wolves now have a memory of hope existing only in their dreams. Memories can be powerful things, even when they’re not your own. I know this from experience.”

  “Excuse me if I don’t risk the lives of the Brothers of Discipline over a memory or two,” Brother Michael said.

  “No one said we had to negotiate unarmed or unguarded,” Kelsey replied. “But I don’t see why we don’t try that approach first. Then if the wolves want a fight, we’ll give it to them.”

  The group continued to argue over whether negotiating would work any better this time than it had in the past, each person providing a different perspective and no one completely agreeing with anyone else. In the end, they decided to follow Kelsey’s suggestion because no one could offer a good reason not to try again. Perhaps it was the fragrance of the hope drifting in through the open window.

  Dusk was quickly approaching. Kelsey had taken her leather armor and dressed Maggie in it, but she had told Maggie to wear a layer of thick wool undergarments. Kelsey thought the extra padding on Maggie’s body would help to protect her. However, Maggie looked like a child getting ready to go play out in the snow. Her arms would not quite go all the way down, and they stuck out at her sides.

  “I look foolish,” Maggie insisted. “No one will take me seriously if I go and meet the wolves like this.”

  “Why not?” Kelsey asked. “Your words are what’s most important. It’s what you say, not what you look like.” She tried to sound confident, but she was worried about Maggie. Her friend wasn’t a fighter, and if the wolves turned on her during negotiations, Maggie wouldn’t have a chance.

  “That does it,” Maggie said as she undressed. “I’m not wearing this.” She pulled on the laces holding the leather pieces together to loosen them, and the leather breastplate fell to the ground with a thump. She unlaced the pants and started to climb out of them when Kelsey stopped her.

  “OK, you do look silly. But please wear something. I won’t feel comfortable if you don’t. You’ll be very close to the wolves, and I need to feel confident that I can get you away without you getting hurt.”

  “I can’t look stupid. I’ll be less effective as a negotiator.”

  “How can be we certain that the wolves even know when someone looks stupid?” Kelsey asked. “They might have very different fashion standards.”

  “Regardless, I will know if I look stupid, and that can affect my performance as a negotiator.”

  Kelsey looked up and down at her friend’s small frame. She thought about different ways to protect Maggie, but almost everything she thought of would pad Maggie so much that she’d appear like a stuffed doll. Kelsey finally realized that she had to compromise.

  “How about wearing the leather breastplate without the padding?” Kelsey asked. She had decided that this one piece of armor would protect Maggie’s heart, and this was the vital aspect of the situation. People could survive almost any other type of injury, but they died from wounds to the chest. “You can wear anything else with it,” Kelsey insisted, and Maggie agreed. However, she would not wear the leather pants, because she wanted Kelsey to have some protection. They argued the point for several minutes.

  “You need to have something,” Maggie said firmly. “You can’t give me everything you brought with you to protect yourself.”

  “I won’t need it.”

  “I won’t wear the breastplate unless you wear the pants.”

  “Fine,” Kelsey snapped.

  “Fine,” Maggie snapped back.

  As soon as they were dressed, they went outside and waited in the orchard with Roland. Brother Michael refused to attend the negotiation, but he was dressed and ready for battle as he waited inside the abbey with about 20 men. Sister Clementine walked out into the orchard with her chin held high and joined Kelsey. She was wearing her brown canvas work robe and had no protective clothing on her body. If anything, Kelsey thought, the loosely fitting robe would make it easier for the wolves to grab her if they wanted to attack someone.

  “Lack of faith,” Sister Clementine said as she nodded in the direction of where Brother Michael was hidden to watch the discussion. “He doesn’t believe in talking things out, and I know he enjoys a good fight. We’ve been fighting for years.”

  “What’s the code word again?” Maggie asked as she turned to face Kelsey. “Which one did we decide was better?” They had discussed so many options and wanted to select one that could be heard above the noise.

  “Gingerbread,” Kelsey replied. “Don’t worry. If things go wrong I’ll be screaming the code word, and if Brother Michael doesn’t show up, I will kill him myself. You just concentrate on your job.” She breathed in the sweet orchard air with long deep breaths.

  Kelsey pushed her long woolen sleeves above her elbows, rolling them up to secure them in place. The night air was getting cold enough to see her breath, but she wanted her arms to be completely unencumbered if she needed to fight. She was willing to negotiate, but she also wanted to be ready. There was no way to know in advance which way the conversation might go.

  Maggie also took several deep breaths as they heard the sound of howling in the distance and listened to the pack drawing near. After a few minutes they could hear the sounds of the paws on the grass thudding like a giant popcorn maker shaking the ground again. As the noise grew in volume, Kelsey looked up out of the valley at the pairs of glowing eyes rapidly approaching. She could also see the puffs of breath as the wolves panted in the frosty breeze. Maggie took another deep breath and stepped forward. She raised her arms, opening them out to each side so that the wolves would know that she was defenseless.

  Kelsey followed Maggie closely. She held her hand near the sheath where she kept her knife, trying not to be too obvious about it. Her vigilant eyes scanned the pack of wolves and as they descended toward her. She identified the pack leader by the way he steered the group. All the other wolves followed the subtle motions of the leader’s snout when he turned to the right or left even the slightest bit.

  The smell of the hope ripening on the trees was so sweet, it was almost sickening to Kelsey, whose nerves were heightened by the impending confrontation. The thought of talking was more nerve wrecking than the thought of fighting. Talking felt too open, too vulnerable, to Kelsey. The situation was terrifying and yet thrilling. Normally, Kelsey would be enjoying the potential for a battle. Tonight she felt uneasy. The negotiation attempt, accompanied by the thought that Maggie might get hurt, made Kelsey nervous. She stretched out her fingers and wiped her sweating palms on her shirt as she waited.

  “We’re here to talk,” Maggie shouted when the wolves stood just outside the orchard. She stood tall with her chin lifted in the air.

  “Talk all you want among your own kind. We didn’t come here for words,” the wolf leader shouted back.

  “My name is Maggie. I represent the king of this land and the abbey here where the king’s hope is being grown. This orchard belongs to him.”

  “Hope is for everyone, not just kings.”

  “What is your name, sir?” Maggie asked.

  “Bardou.
”

  “Mr. Bardou, I agree with you that hope is for everyone. The king does share his hope, but it’s not to be taken without permission.”

  “We have no access to the king, and we need as much hope as possible,” Bardou replied.

  “How do you know that you require this hope more than others to whom the king has granted the permission to harvest it?”

  “I don’t know the situations of others. We only know what we know. We’re not stealing this hope for ourselves. We’re attempting to repay a debt so that we can be free again. All we want is our freedom.”

  “Free from what?” Maggie asked, but her words were lost underneath the shouting of Sister Clementine accusing the wolf of lying. She was shouting about how lies would not save anyone and trying to encourage the wolves to leave them in peace. However, the sound of the sister’s voice was enough to cause a rising in the wolves, and the entire pack charged forward on instinct.

  “Gingerbread!” Kelsey screamed loudly as she began pushing Maggie back toward the abbey as fast as she could. However, the wolves were faster.

  Chapter

  18

  Trouble is Brewing

  Nicholas was in misery. He had been watching the sorcerer for at least an hour a day during the past few days. It was exhausting work and emotionally draining, and at times he also found it boring because the sorcerer told the same story over and over again whenever he came into contact with someone new. Nicholas heard him tell the story yet another time.