The Dociles

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The Dociles Page 9

by Valerie Puri


  28

  “You need to get your attack dog under control,” said the gruff voice of Isaac Fenske, sitting across the table from Victor.

  The interior room of the Sanctuary was dark and cold with no windows and no fireplace. The only light came from two small oil lamps placed in the middle of the wooden table.

  Victor sat at the head of the table and could see the outlines of everyone sitting around the small room. He could not gauge facial expressions in the dim setting, but he could determine by the tone in Isaac‘s voice that he was in a challenging mood. Victor’s face turned hot with aggravation. He was an Elder and the leader of the Order, and he would not be talked down to by anyone. Let alone someone like Isaac Fenske.

  “Sash has done valuable work for us and has been a dedicated member of the Order for nearly twenty years,” Victor retorted. “He has addressed the issue of the undesirables in the Commune more efficiently than – ”

  “And made a huge mess of it too,” Isaac cut in. “He’s reckless. And look, he doesn’t even care to be here for the Order meeting.”

  “I will thank you not to interrupt me,” Victor said sharply. “As it so happens, Sash is out there right now doing valuable work for us. We have a serious problem. Information has been leaked from the Secret Archives and he is finding out who knows about it. I don’t think I need to remind you what will happen if this information becomes common knowledge," Victor finished with a warning tone.

  “If I recall correctly, the information leaked because of your beloved Sash.” Isaac snorted with indignation. “If it weren’t for his crass way of handling James Townsend, we wouldn’t still be cleaning up this mess.”

  “That’s right,” someone near Victor said. “His wife was motivated to spread our secrets to as many people as she could.”

  “She was trying to sabotage our cause by exposing what we are doing,” said someone farther down the table.

  “We know that she showed images from the Secret Archives to her whole class.”

  “Enough.” Victor slammed his hand on the table. “Eleanor’s students are all fools. They were too confused by the photos to even make any sense out of them. Her students are not a concern to us. Neither is Sash. As sanctioned by the Order, Sash promptly took care of Eleanor, and she will no longer be a problem.”

  He switched on his most influential public speaking voice. “I am filled with disgust as I sit here and listen to all of you speak so poorly about another member of the Order. Did we not all take the same oath? Are we not a group with a common interest? Our Order is stronger than a family. We are powerful. We each offer a unique skill set to further advance our grand plan.”

  He saw heads nodding in agreement with his words. “I refuse to hear of any more negative talk about Sash or any other member of the Order. When we start tearing each other apart, then we will have failed at our task. We will have failed each other.”

  Victor finished his speech by placing emphasis on each of his final words so they would sink in. He knew this would finally shut up that nuisance Isaac. Isaac enjoyed destroying those he felt threatened by, but he would never go against the common interest of the Order. Victor had successfully reminded him that attacking, verbally or otherwise, a member of the Order was going against the grand plan.

  “Now, let us get back to why we are all gathered here.” Victor leaned in and clasped his hands together on the table.

  29

  Marlene sat on a gold cushioned stool and gazed out of her bedroom window in the tower. The room was adorned with heavy red drapes emblazoned with a pattern of gold leaves and flowers. It was a cozy space. She had her plush bed, wardrobe, writing desk, and a comfortable place to sit by the fire. The sun-bleached tapestries hanging on the walls were her favorite feature of the room. What once depicted vibrant, colorful scenes had now faded into muted memories. The time worn threads were much like her, a mere shadow of what used to be.

  The glass looked like water poured over a smooth surface, a river frozen in time. The rippled effect gently distorted the scenes of life playing out below. Marlene reached out and ran her fingers over the glass, tracing the outlines of people mingling near the fountain in the middle of the square. The glass was cold to her touch. Marlene felt like this glass, as though she was forever suspended in time.

  It was tiring never to age, to always be the same. She had lived the duration of many lifetimes, but she never had the luxury of aging. Her fingers found an elderly couple sitting on the edge of the fountain, holding hands and laughing with each other as they watched what Marlene assumed to be their grandchildren play. She touched the glass longingly. The simple pleasure of growing old with someone she loved would never be hers. It made no difference now even if she could age, because the man she loved was long gone.

  She thought of her son, as she often did, and wondered if he was still alive. Was he better off out there instead of here? Sighing, she stood and walked over to a tall wardrobe. The ornate wooden doors creaked as she opened them slowly. Her purple Elder’s robes hung neatly inside. Standing on the tips of her toes, she reached the top shelf and used her fingertips to ease a large wooden box forward. When she had a solid grip on it, she pulled the box down and placed it on her bed.

  Marlene sat on the bed next to the wooden chest and ran her hand along the top of it. The familiar shape of the rearing horse with leaves encircling it comforted her. In a time long ago, this symbol was widely used. People employed it as a silent means to communicate their dissent against those who oppressed them. Secret meeting locations, messages, and even tomes bore this rearing horse. This was the symbol of liberation and it was time she revived its use.

  Marlene lifted the lid of the box and saw the relics of her earlier life. Most of the items contained within were older than the Commune itself and held special significance to her. Her eyes fell on a sharp piece of curved metal with a wooden handle. Her sickle. This simple farming tool had saved her life all those years ago. She closed her eyes and gently shook her head, as if to dislodge the memory from her mind.

  She continued her visual search, scanning over a dried flower in a glass bottle, a leather belt with loops and pouches, and an old, battered canteen. Her eyes fell upon an iron rod. She reached into the box to extract it.

  She felt the weight of the artifact in her hands as she examined it. The handle was made of a piece of coiled metal that provided a sturdy grip. The other end was flattened and molded into a circular brand about four inches in diameter. It was the inverse of the symbol burned onto the lid of her box. She looked at the metal that depicted a mirror image of the horse standing on its hind legs with the circle of connected leaves around it.

  Long ago, people would brand their homes with this symbol to show their loyalty to the truth. The time had come for Marlene to reawaken its meaning, the meaning that was lost due to the passage of time and forbidden teachings. With the branding tool in hand, she walked over to the roaring fireplace in the corner. She held the end of the brand in the fire and watched as the black metal slowly began to glow red. She felt this transformation reflected her passion to fight for the truth. The drive that had been buried within her for so long revived and burned with the fury of the hottest flames.

  Marlene removed the glowing metal from the fire and moved back over to the window. She pressed the symbol into the wood at the base of the glass. The sizzle of the hot metal searing an imprint into the wood was like music to her.

  30

  Jennie hurried across the town square, not wanting to waste any time before getting back to the stables. They had come up with a plan to have Belle and Travis get more information about Madam Marie’s disappearance.

  Belle was going to try and get more information from the two men she overheard talking earlier this morning at the solar farm. Since Travis turned thirteen tomorrow, today was the last day he had to work in the kitchens. They decided to make the most of it and see what he could find out there.

  Ethan, of course, could not
be seen in the town, so he was still back in the stable. They had all agreed to meet in the loft that evening after Belle and Travis had finished with their afternoon work shifts to report what they were able to find out.

  Jennie entered a small apothecary shop at the corner of the square. As the door opened, a silver bell chimed. The sound was swallowed up by the stuffy space. Jennie loved the smell inside the shop. It had a thick, earthy aroma perfumed with the sweetness of fragrant dried herbs. She stepped up to the wooden counter spanning the width of the shop. It had stacks of blank paper and piles of pre-cut strands of string. Floor to ceiling cabinets with hundreds of square drawers lined the wall behind the counter. Each drawer had a little label, yellowed with time.

  After hearing the bell, a hunched man made his way through a door next to the cabinets. He had thinning grey hair and a receding hairline. He peered over the rim of his glasses to see better, and they slipped so far down his large nose Jennie was concerned they might fall off entirely. When the man recognized Jennie, a large toothy grin spread across his face, exaggerating the fine lines around his eyes.

  “Hello, my dear Jennie,” he said happily. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “Hello, Uncle Albert,” Jennie said smiling. He wasn’t her real uncle. She didn’t have any aunts or uncles, but Uncle Albert was close enough to be family. He was always there for her when she needed him, and he treated her like a daughter. “I need to pick up some more supplies.” She extracted a list from her bag and placed it on the counter.

  Uncle Albert took the list and pushed his glasses up his nose. He skimmed through the list and mumbled things such as “yes,” “of course,” and “indeed” to himself while nodding. It was always captivating for Jennie to watch as he worked.

  He opened a small drawer, scooped a precise amount of dried herb or roots, piled it neatly inside one of the papers, twisted it, and tied it off expertly with a string from the pile. All of this he did with one, fluid motion. He then slid the tied bundles down the counter and repeated the whole process.

  While he prepared her order, Uncle Albert asked her “You seem disheartened today, my dear. What is bothering you?”

  The perception of this man never ceased to amaze Jennie. She hesitated a moment, then decided to tell him. “Someone I know has been attacked by lemerons.” Jennie thought it best not to mention Ethan.

  Uncle Albert stopped scooping some dried mint leaves and turned to face her. “I assume you mean your teacher, Mrs. Townsend?” There was something in his voice that betrayed bitterness. “Or perhaps your brother’s friend in the kitchen, Madam Marie?”

  Jennie was taken aback and didn’t know what to say. No announcement had been made about Madam Marie yet. How could he have known about her?

  “Don’t you believe that rubbish for a moment,” Uncle Albert said, no longer able to disguise the anger in his voice. “They were not attacked by lemerons, nor did they just decide to wander off on their own accord.” His gentle eyes were worried, and he lowered his voice to a whisper as he continued, “You must be very careful about these things. Something terrible has happened to them both, but it was not the lemerons.”

  “But how do you –” Jennie began.

  “It is best not to converse here,” Uncle Albert interrupted. “There is a time and place for such discussions. There are others who can be trusted, other Truth Seekers. These disappearances are no mere accidents or coincidences. The group which stands against us is slowly reducing our numbers.”

  This sudden flow of candid information made Jennie’s head spin. She leaned on the counter to steady herself. She had never heard about any of this before. Truth Seekers, and a group that opposes them?

  Thinking back to the last time she saw Mrs. Townsend she recalled Jacob Sash was there. After that, no one saw her again. Jennie felt the bottom of her stomach drop as she realized the danger she and Belle were in. They had been the last ones to have contact with Mrs. Townsend. Sash might figure out she gave them information. There was a strong possibility Sash was in this group working against the Truth Seekers, and he might come looking for her and Belle.

  Jennie cleared her throat and asked in a shaky voice. “How do I know who I can trust?”

  “Unless they are introduced to you by someone you can trust, trust no one,” Uncle Albert frowned. “Especially if they approach you on their own.”

  Jennie nodded uncertainly.

  “I will arrange for you to meet a fellow Truth Seeker. Come see me this evening and I will introduce you.” Uncle Albert’s face softened. “Until then, do not trouble your mind with these things. I hate to see you look so worried.”

  Uncle Albert finished preparing her order and smiled at her encouragingly. “No charge today, Jennie.”

  Jennie thanked Uncle Albert. Until she knew more about these “Truth Seekers,” and this other group set to destroy them, she would keep Ethan a secret. She left the shop and crossed the square heading in the direction from where she came. As she hurried along, she wondered if Belle and Travis had found anything out. The events in the apothecary shop had her thoughts racing, and she couldn’t wait to tell the others.

  31

  The little corner in the loft was comfortable and felt like a second home now. Jennie brought pillows, blankets, and small stools from her family’s cottage to make the space more livable. She was glad to make it cozy for Ethan since he couldn’t leave for fear of being spotted. That would surely cause trouble and draw Sash’s attention. Would Sash drag her away if he discovered she had been harboring an outsider? Jennie didn’t want to find out.

  Jennie reached the loft and saw Ethan sitting on a stool. He was studying the rubbing Jennie had made from the cover of Marlene’s journal. She noticed he furrowed his brow as he studied the image of the rearing horse. The intensity on his face made her wonder if he had seen the image before. Perhaps he could help them determine what significance, if any, the symbol had. As she approached where Ethan sat, she reached into her bag and took out an apple. “Think fast.” Jennie playfully tossed the apple to Ethan.

  Ethan barely glanced up as he snatched the apple out of the air. Jennie was astonished by his lightning-fast reflexes. Ethan smiled at her and took a bite of the apple. The muscles in his strong jaw flexed as he chewed. Jennie sat down next to him to eat her own apple. She watched his bicep bulge under the sleeve of his tunic as he brought the apple up to his mouth for another bite. She secretly wondered what it would feel like to have those arms wrapped around her. The thought gave her delighted chills.

  “Thanks for the apple. How was your outing?” Ethan asked her.

  “Surprisingly informative, but I’ll wait for Belle and Travis to get back before I get into that. They need to hear it too. In the meantime, I want to know more about you.”

  “All right,” Ethan said. “What do you want to know?”

  “Well…” Jennie’s mind went blank and she couldn’t remember what she wanted to ask him. Before she could think of anything of importance, she blurted out “What’s your favorite color?” She made a funny face at how ridiculous that question was.

  Ethan laughed. “Blue. Like your eyes.”

  Jennie’s cheeks turned hot. He noticed her eye color. She felt like the apple she had just eaten was dancing in her stomach. “Sorry, that was a silly question.”

  “If you never asked, how would you ever know?” Ethan fixed his playful green eyes on hers. He started listing things off on his fingers. “I am eighteen years old, my favorite food is fish, my favorite hobby is climbing trees, I’m skilled with a knife and bow, and I have a newfound love of horses.”

  Jennie smiled. “What’s it like living outside of the wall?”

  “You always have to be on guard, and you live in constant danger of encountering lemerons. However, despite all of the dangers, it’s wonderful. There is freedom like you have probably never experienced. You can wander as far as you like and the forest always guides you, revealing new and amazing things. My people and
I don’t live in a town such as this. Instead, we live within the trees themselves. We build our homes above the ground in the tree branches.”

  Ethan looked wistful as he continued. “Sometimes on a clear night, I like to climb as high as I can in the treetops and just sit there, gazing up at the stars. When I look up at the night sky and see how vast and beautiful it is, my troubles seem to fade away, at least for a little while. I know it must seem ridiculous.”

  “It’s not ridiculous at all,” she replied softly. “After what happened to my mother, I also sought comfort from above. I would often lie in the apple orchard peering at the sky between the branches and trace shapes in the stars. It sounds silly, but I helped me to think my mother was now one of the bright stars hanging peacefully in the sky far above.”

  A flood of emotion overcame Jennie, and she trembled.

  Ethan came closer to Jennie and put his right arm around her shoulders. She let him pull her into a hug, and she instinctively buried her face into his shoulder. Breathing in his earthy aroma, she felt comforted. Maybe on those lonely nights both she and Ethan had gazed at the same stars, being far away from each other, yet connected in some way.

  Ethan’s hand gently touched her chin and lifted her face so that they were staring into each other’s eyes. He kissed her gently on the lips. Electricity tingled through her entire body. She felt all her sorrows drift away. His lips were warm, like soft pillows touching her lips.

  Jennie closed her eyes and kissed him back, wrapping her arms around Ethan’s neck as she melted into him. She had never felt so happy, and she wanted this embrace to last forever. Perhaps this is what love feels like, she thought.

  32

 

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