Marysvale (32 page)

“
Even if you have to
sacrifice your own life?”

It was the first time in many years
that I had a purpose for living. Someone was truly depending on me,
and what’s more, I needed them. I loved Jane; and Hannah had grown
to be like a sister to me, albeit a pesky one at times. Even so,
she definitely made life more interesting. I had no desire to go
back to an empty life of merely surviving; it wasn’t enough. I
missed Sarah and would go back regardless, though it wouldn’t be
the same without the girls close by. And I didn’t want to
disappoint her by returning empty-handed. If it got down to it,
sacrificing my life was an easy choice.

With conviction, I stated, “With my own
life. I swear it.”

“
Very well,” he said with a
great sigh; but it wasn’t one of frustration or even one of defeat.
It appeared to be a great sigh of…relief.

O
UR
discussion occupied most of the night. With only a
few hours remaining before daylight, Jane and Hannah went off for
some badly needed rest. I gave the impression that I, too, would
follow their example, but had no intention of doing so. Desperate
as I was for sleep, I felt a greater urgency to leave Marysvale as
soon as possible, which would happen as soon as I figured out a way
to escape.

I didn’t like being without Smoke; he
was my safety line, the one thing I could depend on. Losing his
talents, and the ability to leave when I chose to, unsettled me.
The worst part was the despair and hopelessness that permeated the
air. Here was an entire town locked away in a prison they had built
with their own hands. Only when they had finished, and given the
key to the guards, did they realize that they were the inmates. And
on the morrow, I would dine with the chief jailer and, quite
possibly, his son. Although, I had nothing to base it on, I
couldn’t help feeling that it would be my last meal—one that I had
no intention of eating.

As soon as the girls had gone off to
bed, I pulled Mr. Wolfe aside and questioned him about the layout
of the town. He told me all he could about the wall and the guards,
which wasn’t much beyond the obvious.

“
The only way out with
horses is through those gates,” he informed me.

“
That’s what I was afraid
of.”

Absentmindedly, I played with a loose
string, wrapping it around and around my finger.

“
Tell me about the guards at
the south entrance; could they be bribed with food?” I
asked.

“
Not if they have standing
orders not to let anyone out.”

“
If they can’t be bribed,
then what about threatening one of the gate captains? Could we
force him to order his men to open it?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Wouldn’t do any
good. If he disobeyed orders, death would be his punishment. And
dying by your hand would be quick and painless, in comparison to
what their superiors would do to them…and possibly their
families.”

What a revolting group of people.
How could they punish someone for another’s
actions?

“
I don’t understand how they
can just keep us in?”

“
Oh, they can do anything
they want to. They say it’s for our own protection. You have to
have a good reason to leave the safety of the town. If it’s a valid
enough excuse, they will let you leave—with an armed escort. Of
course, at this point, no one believes they have our welfare in
mind.”

“
Why do they care if we
leave?”

He shrugged. “Perhaps they’re afraid
that the outside world wouldn’t tolerate what they’ve done here. I
don’t really know.”

The more I learned about Marysvale, the
more I wanted out. I didn’t want to wait a moment longer than
necessary.

“
Mmm, this won’t be easy,” I
acknowledged.

“
No it won’t. Honestly,
John, I don’t think there is a way out. This is partly why I asked
if you would defend them with your life should things go wrong.
Since you’ve already promised that, then will you take full
responsibility if we get caught?”

I was shocked and he could read the
disappointment on my face.

“
Don’t judge me too harshly,
John. I have to think of my daughters, and things can get dire
here. If they are caught and convicted of a crime, real or
imagined, they could be killed; or worse, lose their
citizenship—which means they would be put to work as slaves for the
rest of their lives. And being so young and beautiful, the slavery
won’t be physical labor.”

He paused a moment to let that sink in,
and then continued, “I will help you where I can, John; and if you
find a way out, we will go. Nevertheless, my first concern is for
my daughters’ safety. So I ask: if we can’t find a way out, is
there anything you wouldn’t do to help my daughters live a better
life?”

I felt sickened from this disgusting
town. I had no doubt that I would do what I could to spare all of
them; and naturally, I would be a scapegoat if it became necessary.
Yet something about his tone and demeanor made me suspect there was
more in his question.

I wanted to get into his head, to find
out why I felt so bothered by what he said. However, that wasn’t
going to happen easily. Digging deeply, without being detected, was
out of the question—especially after just teaching Hannah how to
block me out. I wasn’t at all sure if he could sense me there on
the surface. Though Jane professed that nobody could, I still had
my misgivings. So, to be safe, I decided to employ a trick I had
practiced on my father. I had discovered that if I could get him
talking, it would lower his defenses, as well as his senses. I
could then slip in on a shallow level without being
detected.

I gave it a try.

“
I haven’t changed my mind.
I’ll do whatever is required to save Jane and Hannah.”

“
I’m glad I can count on
you. If the time comes, I’m going to hold you to that.”

“
Of course.”

I continued nonchalantly, “Do they ever
open the main gates during the day?”

“
At times, but it’s with no
regularity now that the harvest is almost over. The only people to
leave will be hunting parties, which will be the friends and
families of those in positions of power. Soldiers and some select
town guards will get to go, as well. After all, it keeps up morale,
keeps them loyal, and keeps their families fed—at least better fed
than the rest of us.”

He continued on with a tirade about the
class structure and breakdown of the government. While he talked, I
studied his soul. Right at the surface were his feelings for his
wife, Abby. Even after all these years, I could feel the hole left
by her loss. He adored her and she was always on his mind. Every
decision he made was based on what he thought she would do. He also
had an enormous love for his daughters. I could easily sense it,
along with something else linked to them. It felt like panic and
desperation to protect them from anyone or anything that would harm
them. Like a chain, another emotion floated by, attached to the
anxiety. It was helplessness. I imagine everyone in this town felt
that, but because of the loss of his beloved wife, he hung onto his
daughters in an irrational manner. His fear of losing them governed
his actions. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do to ensure their
safety and security.

His rant came to an end, and so I
withdrew my gaze and tried to look like I was paying attention.
What I’d learned wasn’t much, but at least I knew he had his
daughters’ wellbeing at heart.

Before he could ask me anything
specific about what he had just said, I asked him questions about
the town. Where are the horses kept? What was at the top of the
hill surrounded by the gate? How do I get to the wall? And so
on.

When my questions and his answers ran
out, I told him that I needed to get a feel for the town and get
another look at the wall and gates. What I really wanted to do was
find a way out, and where our horses were being kept. I thanked him
for the information and told him I’d return shortly. Wrapped in a
cloak, I slipped out into the cold night. Hiding in the shadows of
dark homes and buildings, I worked my way through the town and
toward the wall, all the while trying my best not to get lost. It
was a difficult task, as every street looked the same in the dark.
All too frequently, they would abruptly end, forcing me to retrace
my steps. It was discouraging work. I kept trying streets that went
in the general direction of the wall. Eventually, I made it to the
south gate, though it took much longer than expected.

The south gate looked much like the
north, complete with stone stairs leading up to the top of the wall
and a tower. It looked almost as sleepy and vacant as the town.
Guards still stood at the top doing their best to doze while on
their feet. They leaned against walls, muskets, and anything that
made standing more comfortable. Torches burned low and a few had
even gone out. No one made any attempt to relight them. Guarding
the wall looked to be a pointless exercise. If they were attacked,
half of them would be dead before the other half would awake, if
they even bothered to.

I started my search—for what, I wasn’t
sure—perhaps some weakness, something I could use to our advantage.
I inspected the gate for a way to open it—which of course there
was; but the problem was the weight. I doubted that any one person
could get the heavy door open, and if he did, it wouldn’t be a
quick process—or quiet. Guards could easily rush down and put an
end to any attempt. Even with all of us working to open it, it
wouldn’t be fast enough. I wondered if they had orders to shoot
anyone trying to escape.

Some of the guards could be
overpowered; but, again, doing it quickly and quietly enough, so as
not to arouse suspicion, would be extremely problematic. The risk
was just too great.

With no other possibility presenting
itself, I made my way along the wall to the other gate. The land
nearest the wall was mainly used for growing crops. Occasionally,
I’d pass a stable or corral; most were empty and none of them
contained the animals I wanted.

The wall itself presented no obvious
weaknesses, except for an occasional drainage ditch which passed
through to the other side. Rusty iron bars, plugged with sticks,
branches, and other debris, kept anyone, or anything, from using it
as a way into the town. It looked possible to pry the mortar away
from a few bars and remove them; but there was no way the opening
would be large enough to get a horse through and without them, we’d
have no chance of survival.

At the north gate, the guards were also
doing their best to sleep while looking alert; but they fooled no
one.

I followed the wall past the heavy
doors and on to where it made an abrupt turn and ran up the side of
the hill. I continued on. As I ascended, gradually the space
between homes became greater. The houses themselves grew in size
and grandeur. Shrubbery and trees were neatly trimmed with nothing
out of place. Nearing the edifice that made the second wall, which
was laid out in a semicircular shape facing the town, I surmised
that its purpose was to keep the
villagers
out, as well as
the Brean. I found there were no structures or dwellings near the
wall, nor crops—nothing to block the soldiers’ view—only low-cut,
open fields. Any attempt to move closer would surely be detected.
So, I crouched low, hiding in the shadow of a large home, and
studied my options. Several soldiers stood erect upon the wall, all
dressed in uniforms similar to Lyman’s, neat and well-tailored.
Shiny muskets with attached bayonets graced their arms. The
soldiers here were alert—eyes scanned the fields, searching for
anything out of the ordinary…like me.

Unlike the lower wall, these torches
burned brightly, illuminating everything, and thereby eliminating
any good hiding places. The stones that made the wall were smooth
and flat. With no mortar or protrusions of any kind, there was no
perceivable way to climb it. A cobblestone road led to a set of
massive, wooden doors that blocked the entrance. They were polished
to a shine.

Carved out and imbedded in the wood was
a latticework of iron that was set flush with the doors, which in
turn was flush with the outside of the stone wall. At the top of
the entrance, jutting out about six or seven feet, was a stone
slab, like a gigantic fireplace mantle. It too was as smooth and
polished as the rock surrounding it, offering no place to throw a
rope or a hook. If I did manage to climb the doors without being
shot, there was nowhere to go. It looked impregnable.