The Path Of Destiny Page 13
“Let’s go find the boys,” said Anya, with a sparkle in her green eyes that spoke of love or at least infatuation. Anya was the shortest of the three, but of slender build. Her flirty smile seemed to tease all the boys in the farmlands.
“Always wanting to be with the boys,” Christine said.
“What's wrong with that? I am eighteen now. I have to be looking around,” answered back Anya. “We all should be married in the next year.”
“Anya?” Stephanie seemed to warn her friend to stop talking about boys.
“What?” Anya paused, then realized what she had said. She turned to Christine. “Sorry, Christine. I know that you are waiting for Darius. I’m sure he’ll be back soon, but . . .” She stopped as if to figure out what to say next.
“What?” Christine asked.
“Don’t you think you should find someone in the farmlands to marry?” continued Anya. “Darius would never be allowed to marry one of us.”
Christine tightened her jaw. “Darius can decide for himself what he can do.”
Stephanie tried to change the subject. “The men are having a secret meeting and Karel said some of the young men are going too.”
“Why did he tell you if it’s supposed to be so secret?” asked Anya.
“Well . . . Uh . . . He just did. That's all.”
“What else have you and Karel been talking about?” inquired Christine. “He is my cousin, you know.”
“And such a cute one, too,” giggled Stephanie. “You should have introduced me earlier. I love his brown eyes and dark hair. He seems very mysterious. I think we should go and find out what their meeting is all about.”
“You mean spy on them,” smiled Anya, as if they had already agreed on it.
“I don't know.” Christine sounded hesitant. “We don't know where the meeting is.”
“I know. Well, kind of,” announced Stephanie, as the other two looked at her. “Karel kind of mentioned it.” They noticed her pink cheeks before she turned around and giggled again.
They all laughed and after a little more discussion decided to go. The gathering was taking place at a barn a few fields away, across one of the small rivers in the area.
The moonless, yet cloudless night allowed the stars to shine brightly enough to lead their way. Christine walked next to Lightning, who seemed to have eyesight that was better than her human companions’. A few times she led them away from falling into the small irrigation ditches that in recent years had begun to spring up around the farmlands more and more. Many farmers were not content anymore with relying on just the rain to water their crops.
They made their way around an old field. The cornfield had old stalks of corn left from a farmer trying to grow a late batch at the end of autumn. Christine felt jittery, as if waiting for something to jump out and grab them, but they made it without any incident to the edge of the river.
They walked upriver a short ways until they found the double log that most children knew about from the time they were five or six. At this point the river cut into a deeper gorge. Some years ago, before corn grew in the field, a large tree had grown by the river until it was struck by lightning. It had fallen in a perfectly straight line over the river and had become a natural crossing place for many years. Then a few years ago some of the men had widened the crossing by adding another large tree.
The river below rumbled away in the darkness, rolling south, towards the northern edge of the city, carrying water from the recent storms. The girls crossed the make-shift bridge without looking back. Lightning seemed as light as a feather as she moved across with perfect balance.
“I think that’s it.” Stephanie pointed towards a barn with a faint glow around it. Lanterns must have been moving around inside.
“Let's go around the back. If they notice us out here they might get mad,” said Anya.
“Who’s here anyway? I’m not sure if I like this or not,” whispered Christine. She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered in the dark. Her Cremelino nuzzled up next to her as if reading her thoughts.
“You agreed to this, remember?” reminded Anya. “Now let’s go. Maybe you'll meet someone new.”
“Is that all you ever think about, Anya? Boys?”
“Well . . . What's wrong with that? They are so cute.”
Christine tried to stifle a laugh behind her hand. Anya, as fun as she was, obviously was not serious about life. She wouldn’t be surprised if she were the first of them to be married.
They crept their way around a few large walnut trees, towards the back of the old brown barn, being careful not to step on any of the old walnut shells on the ground. The noise might give them away. There was a pile of old wood leaning up against the back of the barn. They moved towards it in silence. So far, no one had seen them, but they hadn't seen anyone themselves either.
Leaning up against the old barn, they searched to find a crack in the old bent and faded boards that they could peer through. After quite a bit of maneuvering they found a place where, if they sat down, they could see between two warped boards.
“We are wasting our time here,” said an angry voice from inside the barn. “They don't care about us. And I don't care about them.”
Christine peered through the hole, trying to see who was doing the talking. She thought she recognized the voice, but she couldn't place it. A barrel with a small fire tried to give off some warmth in the barn.
“I am tired of their children picking on my children. The next time I catch one of them outside of the city he won't forget where he is.”
“Now wait a minute,” said another voice. “I don't want you doing anything foolish that will cause more trouble. We need to unite together. All of the farmers. Then they will have to deal with us. They can't kill all of us.”
The three girls continued listening as the talk went on. It became apparent it was a serious meeting of farmers to try to agree on a way to confront the persecutions by the city people.
“Let's move around to the side a little,” motioned Anya. “I want to see if Thomas and Karel are here or not.”
With careful steps they moved towards a closed side door, until they once again found a way to look inside the barn. Christine peered in, looking for Thomas and Karel. As she scanned the room, she recognized others in attendance. She then noticed her younger brother, Jain, and a sick feeling began to fill her stomach.
“I say we fight them. They need our food. Maybe if we show force they will listen,” continued yet another man.
Christine soon spotted Thomas and Karel. They sat towards the back in a small corner, with eyes wide open. Even at eighteen they looked a little young for such a meeting. Maybe it was because she had grown up with them and always thought of them as kids like herself. She realized they were men now, and would be married in the next few years and would start taking over their family farms. That was the cycle out in the farmlands.
“Maybe others in one of the other cities will help,” said a man from the back. “They don’t look at us like the nobles here in Anikari do. They understand. I heard Belor is turning almost a full war against Anikari. I think . . .”
He stopped and turned around as others looked towards the side door. Christine had stepped on a loose board.
Anya and Stephanie gave irritated looks at her and put their finger up to their mouths, but it was too late. The men had heard something and a few of them moved towards the door. They turned to run, but Stephanie stumbled on some rotten boards and fell down.
“Go ahead,” she pleaded. “Run away, I'll say it was only me looking for my boyfriend.”
“It doesn't matter if they see us. They won't hurt us,” encouraged Christine. “It’s not like we are forbidden to be here.”
“But they will be plenty angry,” added Anya as the door swung open to show three silhouettes holding swords against the lantern light.
“Too late now,” mumbled Anya.
“What are you three doing?” asked one of the men in an angry ton
e. By this time more of the men and boys had gathered around the door.
Thomas sighed, “Oh no.”
The man who had spoken first turned towards Thomas and asked, “Do you know these girls?”
“Well . . . Yes.” He stumbled with embarrassment. He furrowed his eyebrows in the direction of the girls, and his face heated up.
One of the other men came over to help Stephanie up. “Didn't you move here a short while ago?”
“Yes, a few years ago,” answered Stephanie, trying to stand up on the foot she had twisted when she fell.
“Maybe she is a spy.”
Mumbles in the crowd echoed agreement.
“She is not a spy,” retorted Karel.
“How do you know?” came another voice as others joined in. Stephanie began to look nervous, and Anya moved over closer to Thomas. Christine just looked back and forth at the crowd of farmers both young and old. They looked like a poor lot. There was no direction or unity, but only a place to vent their frustration. She hoped they would not vent it in a fight.
Karel started to head back towards the part of the crowd that heckled Stephanie. There were other young boys Christine had seen a few times from farther north of the farmlands.
“Karel, be careful,” she found herself saying, until she noticed that her brother stood in the back of the crowd. He looked annoyed when he saw her.
“Jain, what are you doing here?”
“What do you think? Someone has to do something, or don't you remember how many times you and Emily have been teased or beaten up?”
Christine realized how large Jain had grown. Muscles bulged in the side of his neck in anger. At almost three years younger than her, he was already taller than she was.
Some of the older men just looked back and forth between Christine and Jain, trying to figure out what was going on.
“You can't go fight them,” reasoned Christine. “They have an army.”
Some of the men started murmuring about girls and children not being where they were not wanted or needed.
“You need to try a peaceful way,” continued Christine as Jain got closer.
“Like what? Lay ourselves down in front of their feet so they can kick us? I don't think so. I’m tired of being pushed around.”
Some of the other boys agreed. Thomas and Karel just stood off to one side, with Anya and Stephanie not knowing how they should react.
“This is enough childish talk,” said one of the men that Christine knew. “If your father knew you were here he wouldn't be too happy.”
“And if he knew you had gathered here without him, he wouldn't be happy either,” snapped back Christine without thinking.
“He is . . . uh . . . too sick to come this far,” the man tried to say without stumbling on his words.
“You know if he were here he would want a peaceful outcome, not fighting,” Christine continued as she watched a few heads drop in acknowledgment. Her father was no small man of influence in the area. He had spoken up many times for continued peace, and was one of the most successful farmers. He wouldn't ask the city people for help with any matter, but he also didn't want to fight them on anything either. He said they should just leave the city people alone, sell their food, and let it pass.
“Go home, little girl,” a voice yelled from the crowd. “You don't know what you are talking about. Go home to the kitchen, where you belong.”
Christine became defensive and angry. “Who is saying that? That's just what the city people say to me. You don't seem much better than them right now.”
The last remark caused quite a stir. “Hey, aren't you the girl that was always with the senior councilor’s son? Maybe you like them better than us.”
Lightning came trotting into view from around the side of the barn, where she had been nibbling on a tuft of tall grass sticking out between an old fence. Don’t let them bully you, Christine.
But I’m just a girl.
You can be so much more. Stop hiding behind your skirt.
Christine swayed slightly. The rebuke from her horse came with such force into her whole being.
Thoughts of Darius ran through Christine's head like a sandstorm blowing in random gusts across the hot desert. Flashes of everything she had learned from him, done with him, and seen with him flew around inside of her. She wasn't sure what to say. Everyone watched her, waiting for an answer. What am I doing here?
Lightning softened. Just speak your mind. They will listen.
Christine took a deep breath. “I am a farmer. My family is one of you, and I will always be one of you. But that doesn't mean I have to make myself suffer.” She was amazed that they seemed to be listening to her.
Go on.
“There are good people in the city, and there are troublemakers. Just like there are good people in the farmlands, as well as troublemakers.” She paused and looked around a little. A few eyes turned away from meeting hers. Why aren't they stopping me? Are they that confused?
“I learned more through my friend Darius than I have learned from any of you. He treated me as a person. Not as a farmer or city person. Not as an unintelligent girl, but as a person. He taught me of faraway lands, of things in the forest, of languages. The most important thing he taught me is that I am as good as anyone else is. I am not any less because I am a farmer’s daughter. Now many of you want to stand up with your few to the greatest army in the western world to show how brave you are. Many of them would then have a good reason to say that we aren't very smart.”
Christine had some of the men thinking. A few even nodded their heads. Why doesn't someone stop me before I say something stupid?
Lighting whispered in her mind, Because you’re not being stupid, Christine. Yours is the first voice of reason they have heard. Do not underestimate the power you have.
“I hate the way most of them treat me as much as you do. Most of you have no idea how they treat us women and what they say to us. It is a lot worse than what they say and do to you. We must show them we are as smart as they are. That we are organized, and can identify what we want.”
“I want to fight,” mumbled Jain again to one of his friends.
“And what are you going to fight with? Your shovel and hoe against their armor and swords?”
“I have a bow. And others have knives.” Jain stood ready to fight.
“And they have a whole battalion of bowmen, and on top of that a whole unit of riders with swords.”
“Then what do we do?” someone asked, as others echoed his question.
Christine thought for a few moments. Christine had not been prepared for the question. Sweat was soaking her back and dripping off her face, and she, only barely seventeen years old, faced a couple dozen men and boys. Now she was being asked how to stop years of persecutions.
“A petition,” she said after a long silence. “We think out what we want, have our best writers put it on paper, and take it to the King. We must have demands ready, but we must also show we are willing to talk, or they will shut us off.”
“They aren't going to listen to words,” someone yelled from the back. “I thought the men were meeting tonight.”
“She might have an idea,” said the man who knew her father. “I think it is worth a try at least.”
“We might as well try,” said another. “It is better than getting killed.”
“Maybe we are as stupid as they say,” said Jain, as he and a few of his friends walked away in disgust. “Talk and more talk. That’s all we ever do.”
Others joined in the conversation and began discussing their demands. Christine sat back on a large rock and took a deep breath. Lightning nuzzled up to her. You did well.
Christine smiled and ran her hand over her horse’s nose. She didn’t know what she would do without her. Anya, Stephanie, Karel, and Thomas crowded around her.
“Wow! How did you do that?” asked Anya. “I've never seen you like that before.”
“Yah. You were good, cousin,” smiled Karel,
patting her on the back.
“I don't know.” Christine tried to pull away her sweaty, sticky dress from her body. She was now feeling chilled in the cool air.
“We’ve been needing someone like you,” complimented Thomas as he hugged her. Anya looked at the two of them and frowned.
“I think I need to go home,” Christine said. She hopped up on her horse. Karel and Thomas were going to help Stephanie and Anya home. The sleepover would not happen that night.
“Oh to be a kid again,” sighed Karel with a statement that echoed all of their feelings.
While riding on Lightning once again, she began to doubt the things she had said.
Be strong, Christine.
But my strength came from you. What if you are not around?
Your strength comes from a long bloodline of power. And don’t worry, I won’t leave you.
Christine wondered what her Cremelino meant about a bloodline of power, but when she asked, she did not get an answer. The Cremelino, she was finding out, could be very evasive and cryptic in sharing what she knew with Christine.
The next day Christine's message and idea spread throughout the farmlands. On the other hand her brother Jain became more distant from the rest of the family and more argumentative towards his position in the whole matter.
Groups of people began to stop by to talk to Christine’s father, Stefen, about the idea. Though his physical abilities had begun wearing thin in his older years, his mental prowess and knowledge were recognized throughout the area. The group discussed late into the evening how to word the petition to King Edward and who would take it to him.
The next morning Christine's father informed her the farmers wanted her to accompany the petitioning party to the castle. She was shocked as well as overwhelmed. She had not really realized the impact she was having on the people.
“Aren't I young for this?” she questioned her father.
“You have won the hearts of the people, Christine.”
“How? All I did was get a little angry and offer a few suggestions. I am no politician. I’m just a simple farmer, Dad.”
“You are nothing simple, Christine. The men see this. You were friends with the councilor’s son, you ride an expensive Cremelino, usually used only by the King or his chosen nobles, and you stated your position brilliantly from what I heard. Plus many of the wives and women support your idea,” smiled Stefen. “And we all know who controls the men.”