Marysvale (5 page)

Obviously unconvinced, he said, “Let’s
go back to the smithy, lad. We’ll have a wee cup of tea and I’ll
look you over.”

I didn’t argue. I was furious at myself
for how badly this had gone and felt I deserved every bruise
forming on my body.

With the excitement at an end, the
crowd began to disperse.

We walked the short distance back to
the shop where he led me into a small, dark sitting room. It was
populated with a few chairs, a small table, and a fireplace with,
regrettably, no fire. It lacked the touch of a woman. Mr. Shepherd
never married, though I couldn’t figure out why. From my
observation, plenty of women fancied him. I sensed a story there
and, though tempted to try and find out more, I left it alone. I
didn’t like reading people’s souls when it wasn’t absolutely
necessary to do so. I had in the past and felt dirty, like I was
sneaking around, peeking into windows. What’s more, I wasn’t good
at keeping what I had been told separate from what I had
harvested—a mistake that sometimes came back to haunt me, when I
inadvertently said something that I wasn’t supposed to know. Such a
slip is where trouble usually begins for me.

“
Sit you down, friend, while
I get water heating for tea,” said Mr. Shepherd. He turned and left
for the smithery, where the forge still blazed.

I slid into a chair, which was
surprisingly more comfortable than it looked, stared at the empty
fireplace, and waited in glum silence. After a few moments, Mr.
Shepherd returned.

“
Now, let’s have a wee look
at you.” He poked and prodded. I winced a few times as he touched
some tender spots.

I liked Mr. Shepherd; he had a good
heart. He had always been friendly and seemed to genuinely care
about me. Of course, anyone new to a small town generates some
interest at first, but his never died—nor did it waver for any of
his friends. However, when it came to his own life, he revealed
very little; and none of us knew anything about him beyond what we
observed.

Finally, he announced, “Well, it
doesn’t look like you’ve broken anything, though I’m sure you’re
going to feel like you did in the morning.”

He was wrong. I didn’t have to wait
until morning. Things were already stiffening and I felt an
increasing soreness set in.

“
Why’d you stop me?” I
demanded, still angry.

He stroked his beard and, in a fatherly
voice, replied, “Well now…I suppose for the same reason that you
decided not to fight back.”

It wasn’t the answer I had expected and
I tried not to look surprised.

With keen eyes that didn’t miss much,
he continued, “I know you could have ducked that fist. I’ve seen
you move a wee swifter than that…and I saw it in your eyes. You
were right not to fight, though. It would’ve been worse for Mrs.
Martin. Moreover, you would’ve been charged for striking a
magistrate. If tried in his court, you would have been hung, or at
best, severely whipped, thrown in the stockade, and eventually run
out of the village with nothing but the clothes you’re wearing.
Either way, you would’ve died.”

I knew he was right, but still asked,
“And how do you know all this?”

His face grew somber. “You’re not the
first to take him on.”

“
I gather the other person
didn’t succeed,” I said dryly.

Sadly, he said, “No,
they
didn’t.”

“
What happened?”

“
Ah, well, they were each
one similar; all of them crossed the wrong people and most of them
aren’t here to regret it.”

“
People? Other than Mr.
Martin?”

“
Aye, I’m afraid so. You
see, there are a number in the community who greatly desire to keep
their seat in power; but Martin is the leader and the most
dangerous. He is a violent man. And as magistrate, he has the power
to execute his injustice. That’s why t’was good you didn’t hit him.
He would’ve had the excuse to take you into custody. However, since
you didn’t, I think you’ll be safe for a wee bit.”

“
And
no one
can
stand up to him…or them?”

“
Well now, I wouldn’t say no
one.” He leaned back in his chair; it creaked in protest. “I
believe
you
have a fine chance of succeeding.”

I rolled my eyes and laughed, “How am I
any different than the ones who’ve tried before?”

A peculiar look crossed his face and he
said simply, “I’ve seen it in you.”

“
What have you seen in me?”
I asked, unbelieving.

“
There are a few ways to
stay in power: one is to make people believe you’re something
you’re not; another is by fear and trickery; the best one is by
getting the people to genuinely trust you. Martin and his followers
do it through a combination of the first two. You seem to inspire
the latter.”

I felt embarrassed and, since I didn’t
know what to say, I said nothing.

He continued, “Though Martin is not
entirely well liked, he does have support…support that you have
been eroding. After today, his status will shrink even more. Others
saw what happened out there and news will spread of how he reacted.
From what I know, it’s the first time he has publicly struck his
wife—that won’t be looked upon favorably.”

Again, I said nothing. I felt
uncomfortable with the topic and Shepherd sensed it. So, we sat in
silence for a long moment and stared at the nonexistent fire, while
my aches increased. I wanted to lie down and calm my sore
body.

“
Come hunting with us
tomorrow,” he offered abruptly.

“
What?” I asked.

“
Some of us are going
hunting.”

I must have looked confused because he
explained, “There’s a group of us going out before winter sets
in.”

“
I know the reason. But why
in a group?”

“
It’s safer that way. There
have been strange beasts in the forest and people have gone
missing.”

“
I’ve heard the stories,” I
said dismissively. “But I don’t really believe them. The forest can
play tricks on your eyes. The strange beasts are probably just
bears.”

“
Perhaps,” he said,
unconvinced. I could tell he was holding something back.

I continued, “And most if not all the
missing were strangers, right?”

“
Aye.”

“
People we wouldn’t
necessarily see again?”

“
True enough,” confessed Mr.
Shepherd. “Still, I’d rather not risk it. Will you join
us?”

“
I appreciate the offer, but
I have things that need looking after. I promised Widow Snow I’d
come by and help with some repairs.”

He looked at me for a moment; it made
me uncomfortable.

“
What?” I asked
defensively.

“
Is that the only reason
why?”

“
For a blacksmith, you’re
awfully perceptive.”

He smiled. “I’ve heard the same thing
about you.”

My face flushed.

“
Oh yes, I’ve heard all the
rumors,” I fumed. “Dark magic indeed! What a foolish
notion!”

“
Not everyone believes
rumors.”

“
I suppose not. I just tire
of them.”

“
It’s understandable. Don’t
give them too much thought. Most folks around here know they are
started by people who don’t like you—and aren’t much liked
themselves, actually.”

“
Why do they do it?” I
wondered aloud.

He shrugged. “Evil doesn’t need a
reason. It is what it is.”

I thought about that for a moment and
then asked, “What about the others? Won’t they mind if I
go?”

“
We’ve already discussed
inviting you. They’re all in favor of it.”

“
Is there an excuse I can
give that will get me out of it?”

He let out a hearty laugh. “You’re a
smart enough lad; I’m sure you’ll think of something sooner or
later.”

His chuckle made me grin. “Yes, but
it’s probably not worth the effort. If I were a betting man, I’d
wager you have at least my next three excuses already
covered.”

“
Aye, at least.”

It sounded good to leave Syre, if only
for a short time. Perhaps even strengthen some friendships that I
would desperately need if I were to survive a confrontation with
Mr. Martin.

“
All right, let me know
where you plan on going and I’ll catch up with you as soon as I’m
finished at Widow Snow’s.”

He gave me the information and, even
though we never got around to tea, I thanked him anyway and
left.

Needing supplies, I stopped by the
general store and then set off for home. I hadn’t traveled far when
I heard someone running up behind me. I turned and noticed a short,
squat figure of a man, waving his stubby arms. He tried yelling
something; but all that came out was a garbled wheeze. The image of
a comical pig floated into my mind.

Eventually, the governor of Syre drew
up next to me. He heaved over in exhaustion, bracing his hands on
his knees, as sweat trickled down his brow. I paused, allowing him
time to catch his breath.

Still breathing hard, he finally
panted, “My boy, you walk too fast.”

“
What can I do for you,
sir?” I asked stiffly.

Even though he had been decent to me, I
had never really liked the man. He was only concerned about himself
and those who put him in power—many of whom were the same ones
starting the rumors about me.

“
Get right to the crux of
it, don’t you my boy.”

“
Yes, sir.”

He drew himself upright and dabbed at
his brow with a handkerchief.

“
Well then, since you’re in
a hurry…I need your expertise with a sick animal.”

Caring for animals and training horses
was my bread and butter.

“
Today? There’s only a
half-hour of good daylight left. It will take longer than that just
to get to your farm.”

“
No, no, of course not,” he
said with a little laugh that was more from habit than humor.
“Tomorrow, I think, will be fine.”

“
I’m afraid I can’t
tomorrow, sir. I promised Mr. Shepherd I’d go hunting with
him.”

“
Yes, of course you are.
I’ve heard all about that and I’ve already stopped by and squared
it with him. He understands you’ll be helping me tomorrow and will
rendezvous with him the following day.”

I groaned inwardly, irritated that he
took it upon himself to arrange my schedule. I started to
protest.

“
My dear boy,” he
interrupted. “I’d consider it a personal favor. I’ll pay you double
your usual; and I’ve already worked it out so Thomas Martin can
come help you.”

“
You did?” I asked
incredulously.

“
Yes. You see, it’s the
pregnant one, and I really can’t afford to lose both the cow and
the calf. So, you simply must come.”

You most definitely could afford to
lose it,
I thought. There was deceit in his eyes. He probably
meant to get out of paying me double. Had I taken a moment longer
to look into his soul, I would have realized his true intent and
what a dire mistake it would be not to leave with the hunting
party. But I was too irritated with him to argue and knew, if I
turned him down, I’d have to go back and work things out again with
Mr. Shepherd. Plus, I’d have to walk all the way over to the
Martin’s and tell Thomas he wasn’t needed; this also ran the risk
of running into Mr. Martin—an experience best left untried for the
time being. Above all, I was sore and tired and just wanted to lie
down.

So, I agreed.

“
Excellent. See you then, my
boy.”

He spun around and waddled off quickly,
before I could change my mind.

T
HE
sun sank low in the sky, sending long shadows across
the ground. Beams of light streamed through the trees and
highlighted the occasional insect that buzzed in and out of the
radiance. I walked through the village and on, arriving at a small
cottage, nestled among a few others, on the outskirts of Syre. I
opened the wooden door and a familiar, musty smell washed over me.
The cottage consisted of one room, housing a stove, a table, a
window at one end, and a straw bed under a small loft at the other.
I sat at the table, pulled my boots off, and then ate my meal of
dried venison, an apple, and a crust of bread. It wasn’t much, but
I really felt more tired than hungry.