Rage and Rebellion (Histories of Havenhearth)

4.4 Sophine

"Does Mama know you do this?" Sophine asked her father while they walked down the dirt track from their house.
"She does. It was part of marrying me and me coming here to join her family."
"I always thought that you left so early to work the fields,"
"I always go to service first." He winked at her.
The leader, in a long grey robe, was waiting at the top of the hill for her flock to arrive for the weekly service. She had her sons with her, one stood on each hand on either side of her, as they did every Sunday, singing hymns as people arrived. Sophine felt a little envious of the luxurious life they appeared to lead, standing, singing, waiting, not having to toil the earth under the hot sun, or in cold winds and rain.
"She'll be training at a school in Sudmontline in a year or two, when she turns thirteen," that was only a little older than Sophine. The boy was smaller, serious looking, with a sadness in them. When they approached, Sophine noticed a look of knowledgeable sadness in the pastor's eyes as well, but she greeted Sophine's father warmly. "Fewer people this week?" Her father asked.
"Appears so," she replied. "I'll walk back with you."
Sophine felt it was a rather sombre walk to the little hamlet and even the older boy had a look of concern behind the smile. She overheard her father and the leader.
"The tracks have been a bit more deserted given the recent events, and tensions have increased due to the rumours." And later she heard mention of the Golden Defenders.

A beautiful white building came into view but everyone's focus was drawn straight to a gathering in the small square from which the sounds of an argument were coming. Some of them looked coldly at the leader as they approached. The argument died down momentarily. When the leader had arrived and greeted everyone, a woman and a man continued their hostile exchange.
"Master, as a member of this community, you are required to pay, no matter what vows you took," The leader waited, so that she could understand what the argument was about and for anger to abate.
"I am sick of you spiritualists claiming you are above our rules,"
"We need some reparations to the walls around our village for instance, and we cannot afford them because of you!"
"Not to mention the Golden Defenders!"
Indeed the spiritualist leader had planned to address the increasing frictions between the spiritualists of different denominations during her service: it seemed to be the spirits' wish that she deliver her sermon to everyone present, no matter their denomination.

She was a calm public speaker, and well-prepared, and at first, what she was saying seemed to strike a chord with the listeners. She highlighted their similarities, their common backgrounds, that they had the same ancestors, how they all shared happy and sad times, and good harvests, droughts and floods, they had the same friends, same relations. They shared spirituality, it was only the denomination that differed. Indeed, their differences were less to do with spirituality and more to do with financial issues or those outside of their hamlet. She finished her preaching, and the onlookers sat in silence, as if nobody knew what to say.
The sun beat down on them all.
All of a sudden, a noise all around them started up, and the air filled with shouts. Sophine startled at the noise, and looked around to see if she could ascertain the reason for it. The leader suddenly found herself jumping up on the steps going up into the building, and let out a scream "stop!", happy to see that it had it's intended effect, and everyone looked at her. Sophine's father grabbed her by the hand and started pulling her out of the square, but their way was blocked by soldiers wearing Golden sashes.
The startled villagers gazed in confusion at armed, uniformed figures who had positioned themselves round the square, blocking all of the exits. They knew who these people were immediately from the sashes. It was the Golden Defenders. The commander, Sophine recognised the tall woman from the forest, strutted into the centre of the square, among the frightened villagers. "Fellow Cassioni," she called out, "I have much to learn," she gave the typical greeting, "we mean you no harm. We are here to offer you salvation from the poison that has infiltrated your hamlet." The leader interrupted, "likewise do we mean no harm, and we do not require your services. You may leave." The commander ignored her.
"Here we stand in front of this beautiful building, built to deceive, to entrap, to brainwash and to hurt our ancient ways, our Cassioni culture. It is time, in the name of the spirits, our Cassioni spirits, that the fiends and their infiltration leave us."
"You are a criminal," the leader said simply, "You have no authority here. Please leave."
Their commander sneered as Sophine had seen her do before. "On the contrary, Sirmaam, we are the Golden Defenders and we represent the ascendancy. And any threat to our authority is punishable."
She gestured behind her towards the building. "This building may look beautiful, but there is no doubt, it is a house of evil. It is just like them. Beautiful yes, but festering rotten stupidity on the inside. Who among you worship here?" She waited for an answer, but none came. "Have they invited you to join them? In their worship?" This got a response, but she saw many of the villagers shake their heads back at her. That was not the response she had been expecting. "Have they offered to teach you what they have learnt?" The leader spoke up, "we have no idea of what you speak. The only thing that occurs in that building is learning, of culture, spirituality and language." The commander ignored the leader. "I teach spirituality, and we are very lucky to have our language teacher with us today, who volunteers her time to widen our horizons." The commander's eyebrow twitched up at this last comment, but still she ignored the other woman.
"I ask you all again, who among you worship here?"
This time a villager piped up, pointing to one among them. "She does." There was a gasp from the crowd.
"I do not! I am no spiritualist, I simply attend language lessons there!"
"That is just as bad as worship." The commander gave a sign and the woman who had spoken up was brought inside the white building.
"Anyone else?"
She watched the effect of her words with satisfaction, without moving, the people in the crowd seemed to distance themselves from their neighbours. Sophine's father pulled her outwards again, but their way was blocked by these self-proclaimed militia. "Him! He's trying to leave! Bring him to me!" She heard the commander call out. Sophine's father whipped around. Two soldiers grabbed him by his arms and marched him in front of the commander. Sophine was left alone, but forced inwards by the crowd. "I'm not even from here! Let me return home!" He said loud enough for all to hear.
"Why did you come here today?" The commander asked, her voice full of malicious suspicion. "I came to sell my corn," he lied.
"Where is your corn?"
"On my wagon, just near the hamlet's entrance," the commander whispered something to someone, who walked off.
"Who else? Tell me! If the spiritualist won't talk, take her away." Two soldiers grabbed the leaders arms and brought her inside the white building, and by now the woman the commander had sent off had come back, whispering into her ear. "There is no corn wagon, you say?" She said loudly with theatrical flair, "then how peasant, are you to sell corn that does not exist? You have come to see the worship! Bring him inside!" She said. "No!" screamed Sophine, running towards her father, "that's my-!. Strong arms gripped her shoulders, clamped over her mouth, holding her in place. "Don't Sophine, it'll make it worse." The words were whispered into her ear with panic, urgency. Sophine turned around to lock eyes with her mother who gave her such a look of fear, desperation, terror, Sophine understood what was going to happen.
"Who else will join them? The square is surrounded and if anyone is hiding, they will be found. Who has cavorted with the fiends?"
There was no answer.
'Well?"
Still no answer.
"Then we will find you ourselves."
"Just nod if you know how to get home from here?" Sophine's mother whispered into her ear. Sophine tilted her head slightly. "When you can, and I will tell you when, you must run, as fast as you can, back home, nod again if you understand." Another tiny tip of her chin.
The commander called the order, and some of the militia broke away, to go look through houses. Sophine's mother, yanked her daughter along with outward anger and aggression, hoping that if anyone noticed, they would just think she was dealing with the girl herself. Once out of the main square, her mother sent her up a narrow alley between two houses, and asked the spirits to guide her daughter home. Sophine ran, but she tripped over something, felt herself flailing, and everything turned to black.

When Sophine came to, her head on something soft. She focused her eyes and turned her head to look into her father's face. He was alive. Her head throbbed. "Papa," she said, in a meek voice. "Sophine, my darling."
He stroked her hair. "Where are we?" She asked, noticing rows of desks and chairs. "The white building," he answered. She remained lying down, everything around her seemed distant, unreal, she was unable to move due to the throbbing. "Where's mama?"
"Outside, I suppose, with the others,"