Preserving Hope Page 6

  Eva told of their first two years, challenging years. The winters were harsh, and they were often hungry, but gradually they were able to exchange the money they’d taken from the baron for supplies and tools they could use to create goods. They started weaving fabrics into clothes, and used the profits from selling over time to branch out into nearly everything else, including carpentry, the forging of swords, daggers and knives, and even brewing beer. They eventually added more people to the community, extending invitations to those as they met who seemed capable of sharing their ideas. People like Will Stark.

  “During one of those Trading runs to sell goods, Arthur heard travelers from distant lands telling tales of people doing what he called magic, feats like flying and turning invisible and reading the thoughts of others with perfect accuracy. Arthur and others applauded the man for such a wonderful and compelling tale, but the man stated with deep sincerity that they’d seen such feats with their own eyes, and even told Arthur where. He came back and told all of us that we should send two or three of our number to investigate. What if, he said, we learned what enabled those people to do what those travelers had seen them do? What if we could repeat that process here, and develop those same abilities? Could we imagine that success? As it turned out, we could imagine only too well, and Arthur, Genevieve, and my brother departed. They returned six months later, and the detail we found most notable upon their return was that Arthur and Genevieve had been married abroad and she was three months pregnant.”

  Will blinked. It sounded almost as if the couple had eloped. “That… must have been a shock.”

  “It was more than a shock, Will. In our community, it was, for lack of a better term, illegal.”

  Will tried to avoid gasping with shock, until he realized it was a perfectly natural reaction to the statement. “It was… illegal… to get married?”

  “We’d agreed that until such time as our village was well-established, until there we had time for true leisure, that we’d all abstain from such relationships, for any child would be unable to provide some useful service for the rest, or make crafts we could sell for a profit. Some of the villagers performed services in the community. We have farmers who tend fields to the east; we have hunters and foragers who gather berries, nuts, roots, and small game for everyone to eat. We have a couple of cooks and bakers who make soups and bread for everyone to eat. Everyone has a means to make money and develop wealth. Everyone who could perform such a service or make such goods for sale, that is. A pregnant Genevieve could not tend her share of the fields for several months during our critical planting season; her child would be unable to help with anything for many years after that. They were, essentially, forcing the community’s internal economy and way of life into a massive disruption, and people weren’t happy.”

  Was this the cause of the future rules against marriage and children? Were the lessons of the transgressions by Arthur and Genevieve the cause of his own future suffering?

  Arthur, who had been a driving force in getting the community to where it was, found himself shunned and rapidly losing his modest wealth as he paid for his new wife and daughter to eat. For a man who believed himself royalty, who believed himself deserving of tribute and honor, such shunning was a humiliation he’d never forget. Or forgive.

  As his redheaded daughter reached the age of six, full of natural curiosity and a good cheer that brought a smile to the face of all she encountered in that small village, Arthur began a subtle campaign. They’d brought back hundreds of different “foods” from the trip they’d taken nearly seven years earlier. Those foods were stored in the “school” for experimentation by any who desired to do so. But they’d been warned: the trials of testing everything were part of the journey; they’d only find the correct combination of “foods” after they’d tried everything. It was simply the way it worked. Nobody wanted to be among those who tried the first — and thus wrong — “foods,” for it had been noted to the Travelers that some substances might cause all manner of negative side effects, including death. For six years, they had, instead, focused on a relentless pursuit of their crafts and on wealth-building Trading runs, and saw the wealth of the village grow.

  Arthur, as only he could, used his masterful persuasive skills to spread the idea that one noble soul among them could step forward and work through all of those “foods” in pursuit of the one that would unlock those magical abilities, protecting everyone else from danger. Those who were not this Volunteer would continue to produce the food and goods that enabled the community to thrive. Why risk multiple people becoming ill or dying at once and have less food to eat or fewer goods to sell? The village would greatly benefit from a single person making that research their only job, one which should pay them well enough to eat, even if they’d find themselves ill in the pursuit of those incredible secrets.

  And once that secret was unlocked… wouldn’t it be advantageous to be the first to know? To be the first to develop those skills? It would be worth it to pay to be the one there in the Schola, watching the research unfold, waiting to see if the Volunteer would discover the secret that day. They could take turns paying the Volunteer for their work in exchange for exclusive access to the Volunteer during that day’s research. They should pay the Volunteer enough to ensure that they could continue to eat if they needed a week or two to recover. A silver coin per “food” tested, one “food” per day, would seem reasonable.

  “We grew excited at the prospect. The idea that someone else would bear that risk was a great deal for all of us, for a silver coin was becoming a small price to pay for something we wanted. Nobody wanted to volunteer, though, and our tension increased. Arthur’s skills are incredible at manipulating people into the decision he wants, and we were all desperate for that volunteer to step forward.” She swallowed. “And then, she did.”

  “Elizabeth,” Will breathed. “How could a child…?”

  “Volunteer?” Eva snorted. “She didn’t volunteer, Will. Arthur said she had, said that she wanted her father to collect the silver coins on her behalf to pay him back for so many years of his selfless sacrifice while she grew old enough and strong enough to contribute to the community. So exuberant were we about this arrangement that we failed to realize that we were essentially selling a young girl into slavery one day a week for all eternity, or more often if her loving father determined she could handle a greater frequency. And of course, she could. Basically, we were treating her as the baron had treated us, doing to her what we rebelled against.”

  “Nobody protested this?” Will said, aghast.

  “Some did,” Eva said, her tone bitter. “Genevieve did. Six of the original ten did. My brother was gone on a Trading mission at the time, but he was furious about it when he returned. The rest of us? We said nothing and paid our pieces of silver so that we could imagine being the first to develop these fictitious magical powers. The protesters were outnumbered by a significant margin, and rather than fight or participate in this scheme, they left. My brother was devastated. He fought and argued, but he was ignored. I never rose to defend what he said. My brother and another man left on another Traveling mission to trace down a rumor that had been reported of people like what we all wanted to become. My brother left because he hoped that he could return with the answers, and spare Elizabeth what was to come. Neither of them has returned, though, and it’s been a decade since they left.”

  She choked, and Will was surprised to see the strong woman fighting, without success, to hold back tears. “I was a coward, Will, blinded by my own greed. My brother scolded me, but I wouldn’t listen. I know it now; I should have taken a stand, perhaps talked those who left into staying, or protested this scam more fervor. I do what I can now. I pay my silver coin but let Elizabeth sleep through the day and recover. Genevieve moved into the room next door to the house she and Elizabeth once shared with Arthur, and Elizabeth went with her. Genevieve began to go to every session at ‘school’ with Elizabeth, and subjected herself to the same
treatment. I’ve talked many of the Traders into doing the same thing I do, Will, but most people have no interest in stopping the system they believe will give them magical abilities. It’s a system that does nothing to hurt them, though it humiliates that girl and enriches her father. I’ve failed her, Will, and that’s why she needs all the help she can get. She needs help because the people who should be protecting her are either directly causing her pain, or too cowardly and weak to speak up on her behalf.”

  She took a deep breath. “Or, in the case of Genevieve, dead at the hands of a mob spurred into action by her husband.” Tears filled her eyes. “Please, help her. She’d like the daughter I never had the chance to have, and I would give anything and everything I have to get her out of this. Arthur won’t let her leave, ever, outside of the baths, and his minions include the most powerful warriors in our village, especially Maynard. Please, Will. Please, help me to save her.”

  Will nodded agreement and put a comforting hand on her arm. He would help save Elizabeth. It was why their children had sent him here.

  VI

  Servant

  They traveled in silence for several moments.

  The emotions triggered in Eva by these memories were overwhelming Will. Clearly this woman had suffered tremendous anguish as a byproduct of her part in this shameful history. “That’s what the silver coin was for, wasn’t it?” Will asked, his voice quiet, as if it could have been heard by any of the drivers riding in the trailing carts. “You were paying for her time yesterday.”

  Eva nodded. “Yes. The dream Arthur spread in all of us… it was more intoxicating than the ale we brew back home. After most of the original ten left, it took several years before a small handful of people gradually started to realize that what we were doing was wrong. We wanted to leave too. By then, though, we’d realized that we couldn’t abandon her. In a sense, those who left were cowards too, weren’t they? They feared fighting the majority, even though they were right. I know that in my case I realized that I was wrong to side with Arthur at the beginning, but I wouldn’t make my mistake worse by running away from it. I owe it to her to do what I can to make her life more bearable, until such time that we can truly free her from this condition.”

  Her voice dropped into a whisper. “It sounds bad, Will, but it’s worse than you think. Some people here enjoy watching her suffer. They’re monsters and I’m surprised that I haven’t killed any of them. Maybe one day, I’ll finally lose control and do just that. Some people think that the more she suffers, the closer we are to a breakthrough. Her suffering isn’t what makes them happy, it’s what they think her suffering means. Most people here, though, are simply glad that it’s happening to someone else, and not them. They fear that if they say something now, it will be them being marched into that building, and forced at sword-point to consume whatever is chosen by their tormentor.”

  “That’s awful!” Will said, unable to restrain himself. “How could any of you not recognize what you were doing to that little girl?”

  “She screamed so loudly,” Eva muttered, as if she’d not heard him, and was merely reliving the memories alone. “She’d scream when she saw what had been picked, and when she was told how much she’d need to take. If she refused, she was hit. For those who didn’t hit her on the occasion of a refusal… well, Arthur isn’t the forgiving type, especially with little girls who are impacting his clientele. He and Genevieve got into huge fights, public fights, about Elizabeth’s treatment. As I mentioned, she moved into the room next door and Elizabeth went with her. They wanted no part of Arthur anymore. He didn’t stop, however; he still makes sure people are well aware that hitting Elizabeth is both acceptable and encouraged.”

  Will shook his head. “How can you have allowed it to continue?”

  Eva glanced at him, glaring. “He’s a manipulator, Will. He could convince you that you are in the sweltering heat when your feet are covered in snow. He convinced nearly everyone, somehow, that the physical assault on Elizabeth would strengthen her to be able to do more research. In other words, by hitting her, they were helping her, and by extension, help everyone reach their ultimate goals. In reality, everyone in this place is evil, greedy, a coward, or some combination of the above.”

  “Which of those describe you?” Perhaps he was being harsh, but it was impossible for him to react with total compassion when hearing descriptions of how horrid her life was. He now knew why his children and Adam had made him promise not to use his new abilities to kill anyone before he’d left. At the moment, it took every bit of self-control he had not to teleport back to the village and kill every single one of them for what they’d done or allowed to be done to Elizabeth. And he wasn’t sure yet that he wouldn’t renounce his vow and start ending lives.

  Eva didn’t answer his question, but after a time, she broke the silence. “He refers to her now, not as a Volunteer, but as the Servant, a title of honor. He’ll reference a passage in the Bible where Jesus tells his followers that whoever wants to be the greatest must be the one who serves. She will be the greatest because she serves all of us, he says. Therefore, everything that happens to her is presented as her being the most honored of all of us, the strongest, the greatest. We all go along with it, though the Traders and a few others manipulate the system Arthur has. If you look closely when we return to the village, you’ll notice a small number of people dressed simpler than others. Dull colors, no ornamentation or jewelry, no upgraded furniture in our rooms. Others use their wealth to enhance their physical well-being. We use ours to pay Arthur’s daily fee, and Elizabeth comes into our room. We do not make her work; if we work, she joins because she wants to. If we go to the Schola to do research, we ask her to pick out what will work. She knows, Will. She knows what works. And we all do whatever she does. If she thinks a certain new herb will enhance our ability to sense emotions in others, then we all take it. She’s rarely wrong, but most of the time she doesn’t choose to anything, just sits quietly and watches us. And at the end of the day, before Arthur arrives to collect her and walk her back to her room… we pay her. She’s spent time working for us, and she should be paid. She has a nice bit of savings accumulating, but she says nothing and spends nothing for fear of reprisals from her father.”

  Will shook his head. “I need to free her, to get her away from here. Perhaps that’s what I’m here to do. I need to free her, to get her away from Arthur’s cruelty and scheming. I could easily do it, but it would draw attention I’d rather not have, not until I think things through and figure out how to leave everyone else unharmed and none the wiser. And I’m not yet sure where to take her once she’s free.”

  Eva nodded, and Will could see the sadness in her eyes. “We’re all trapped by something, Will. I’m trapped by the realization that I’m outnumbered today. I could say something, but I truly believe that Arthur would see me dead if I threaten his power structure, and his power structure today is the ability to barter his daughter. It’s how he makes consistent income far beyond what is needed to eat and live. If I’m no longer here, that’s one less person to keep her safe for some portion of the week, and that’s why I don’t leave the village in protest. So I wait, and work to convince others to join our cause to use our time to gradually free her and lessen her burden. I think I’m close to gaining another friend of Elizabeth. There is a woman named Eleanor, one of the Traders on this journey, who seems open to our thinking, but I must go slowly with her. I cannot have her expose what we’re doing to Arthur.”

  “Sound thinking, Eva.” Will wanted to be angry with her, but knew she was in a predicament. As a woman in this era, she’d have a difficult time surviving on her own. It wasn’t because she wasn’t capable; in the day he’d know her, he’d come to realize that she could handle anything life threw her way. Rather, she’d be shunned from what she needed to do if she was on her own. He realized that the true reason there were several men along was that it gave her credibility with the merchants they’d deal with in each city; they woul
dn’t deal fairly with a woman. If a man were there, however, they’d assume she was with him — a wife or sister — and that he was simply letting her handle the negotiations for him. If she left the village, she’d have no such buffer. Thus, she needed the village as much as it needed her. Speaking up would have ruinous results for Eva and those she willingly served in her Trader role. As such, he suspected that her ongoing residence in the small village might have a practical motive as well as a humanitarian one.

  “You spoke of freeing Elizabeth from our walls earlier,” Eva remarked. “Know this: Arthur will not let her go. If she leaves, his source of power leaves with her. He’s commandeered enough money and favors through his sacrifice of her that he’d survive for a time, but his long-term fortunes are tied to her. It’s why he’s quietly circulated the notion that none of us can marry; it’s not an accident that each of us lives in such a tiny room. It’s Arthur’s way of ensuring that nobody else has a child who can compete with his daughter. No, if she were to try to escape, he’d send the entire community after her to force her back, and the sad thing is he probably wouldn’t need to say a thing for it to happen; too many people see her as their salvation in a sense. The only way she’ll leave, as he’s often said, is in a box made of pine. She wants to be a Trader, and he refuses. She could too easily get ‘lost’ in one of the remote villages and towns we visit.”

  She’s a slave, Will thought. There was no other way to describe it. She was essentially bought and sold daily. She had no free will to go where she chose to go, or do what she wanted to do. Other than the secret payments from Eva and those like her, Elizabeth received no money of her own for her work. One slave to serve a community of over fifty people, only a handful of whom showed her any kindness.