Death Lingers in the Morning Air--1

    She had to hurry.  Time was short.  Frantic hands scooped lose dirt into the hole hiding the metal box from view.  What it held could change everything.  It could not fall into the wrong hands. 

    She stood to her feet and gazed at the silent woods about her.  Someday she would return and reclaim it.  A tear trickled down her cheek.  She hoped it would be soon.

v    

    “It looks old.”  Cassie braced her knee against the ground as she pulled the metal container from the ground spilling dirt onto her clothes. 

    “It is old, obviously,” Mark fixed her with a glare then returned his gaze to the box.  “I wonder who put it here . . .”

    She shrugged her thin shoulders and picked at the rusty latch.  It resisted and then broke into pieces.  With care she lifted the lid.  It creaked open revealing a black leather bound book. 

    “Ah, it’s just a book.” Mark stood to his feet and kicked at the ground sending a rock skittering into the bushes.  “I was hoping for something exciting.”

    Cassie rolled her eyes.  There was a good reason why Mark was not one of the best students at school.  He didn’t appreciate books as he should. 

    Mark looked up at the sun, “We need to get back.”

    Sighing, Cassie placed the book in a leather satchel that she carried around when looking for herbs as she had been doing before they had stumbled upon the partly buried box. 

    They ran through the dim forest until they reached a small village.  Huts clustered around a center building used for meetings. Already a steady stream of people was making their way into the building with grim silence.  Mark and Cassie looked at each other.  Something had happened.  Mark took the lead as the shoved their way through the crowd to one of the side doors.  They ducked inside and went and stood along the wall the next to the other village children. 

    “What’s going on?” Cassie hissed to Marta, a thin girl with brown greasy hair and freckles. 

    She blinked back tears, “Vilen defied the Master.”  Those simple words said it all.  They were about to witness the wrath of the leaders.  They would either execute Vilen or brutalize him.  Cassie hoped for the latter.  Vilen was a favorite among the children and his death would be a blow. 

    “People of the village!” a man dressed in a white robe with a black sash, the uniform of a teacher, stood up and raised his hands. “Today we have had a most terrible occurrence.  One of our own has defied our Master.”  Some of the children began to whimper. “You must realized how shocked and disappointed we were when we saw one of our most promising young people turn astray,” he took a ragged breath, and then continued, “We, the leaders of this community have decided to be gracious.  We will give this man a chance to refute what he has said tonight at the Penance Field.  Till then, dear children, peace to all.”  He lowered his hands and left. 

    Slowly, people’s voices began to rise.  Mark pushed his way over to Cassie and whispered, “Do you think he will refute what he has said?” 

    She tried to look positive; she knew how attached Mark was to Vilen, “Of course.  Vilen is no fool.”

    He looked at her with unbelieving eyes then disappeared into the part of the crowd leaving the building.  Once out of the meeting house Cassie slowly made her way towards the small hut she shared with her mother, Helen.  Right before she had been born, her father had been put to death by the Teachers for organizing an attempt on the Master’s life.  It was a disgrace that Helen had tried to lift from their heads for the thirteen years of Cassie’s life.  However, their house still lay on the outskirts of the town, a sign of poor favor from the Teachers.

    As Cassie entered the poorly furnished kitchen her mother looked up from where she was kneading bread.  “Where have you been!” her sharp words made Cassie blink.  Her mother rarely spoke that way.

    “Gathering herbs,” she reached into the leather bag and hesitated as her fingers brushed the book.  She wouldn’t tell her mother about it yet.  She would read it first.  The herbs lay beneath it, and as she pulled them out, a small smile appeared on her mother’s face. 

    “I’m sorry, dear.  Today has just been such a long one.  You are a good daughter.”  She wrapped Cassie in a hug then returned to the dough. 

    Cassie slid onto a rickety chair and watched her mother’s hands methodically knead the dough.  “Did you go to the meeting?”

    Helen’s shoulders slumped and she gave a tiny nod, “I didn’t dare take a chance that they would notice me gone.  You know how they regard us.”

    Cassie laid her head on her arm.  “What did Vilen do?”

    Her mother paused then placed the dough in a pan and put it in the oven.  She sat down wearily next to Cassie.  “The Master was taking one of his meditative strolls through the village.  Vilen walked up to him and challenged what he had taught at the last gathering.  A crowd gathered, and Vilen began to talk about how the Teachers and the Master were wrong in what they taught.  The Teachers came and subdued him and then took him to the prison.”

    “I can’t believe he would defy the Master.  That-that is crazy.  Surely he must have known it is a nearly unforgivable sin.”  Cassie shook her head. 

    “Aye.  He’s fortunate they didn’t kill him then and there,” Helen tilted her head, “I believe they were somewhat worried about how quickly he drew a crowd.  You know how popular he is.  They don’t want him to lead people astray.  If we had another uprising, how terrible it would be.”  Silence reigned for a moment before her mother rose to her feet.  “Enough sad talk.  Why don’t you go gather some wood for the fire while I put some of these delicious herbs you brought me into the soup?”

    Cassie tried to look and sound lighthearted as she left her home.  However, her insides were twisting themselves up in knots.  She knew what Vilen was like.  He was stubborn.  They would not be able to change his mind easily. 

    As she picked up sticks along the fringe of the woods a voice hissed, “Cassie.”  Mark beckoned a finger.

  

    “What?” she hurried towards him.

    He glanced furtively around, “I’ve been asking people about what Vilen said.  You know what, what he said made sense and-“

    “Are you crazy!” fear coursed down Cassie’s spine, “What if the Teachers hear that you think he is right?  You’ll be punished!”  The children in the village were kept under a strict rein.  If they so much as hinted that they disagreed with something that was said by the Teachers, they were punished severely.

    “I don’t care.  If Vilen is right, then, well, they are wrong.”  Mark’s blue eyes carried deep conviction.  He was convinced of this.

    “I don’t know what Vilen said, and I have no desire to know.  The Teachers and the Master are the ones who know the truth, not some measly boy who lives on the edge of the village.”

    “He’s not a measly boy, and you know that.” 

    “But he still defied the Master and that is wrong,” she held up a hand to stop his reply, “I don’t want to hear anymore about it.  You’ll get me, and yourself, in trouble.  Now, go and put that nonsense out of your head.”

    Anger filled his eyes as he turned and stomped off, leaving her standing there.  Cassie’s stomach sunk.  Mark was stubborn when he thought he was right.  “Oh, please,” she murmured, “Don’t do anything foolish.”