Rage and Rebellion (Histories of Havenhearth)

5.7 Sophine

Her parents did not speak of what had happened in Charroux. Or if they did, she never heard them. A meeting was held the next day: the ten farming families nearest Sophine attended, Golden Defender members or not. Afterwards, Sophine's mother addressed the small group, her hair awry, her eyes angry, gesturing wildly as she spoke. "We have been fooled," she said, "into joining a movement that did not even follow its own creed. The Golden Defenders are nothing more than bandits looking for a fight, and I will no longer participate." She went on to clarify she still supported their anti-foreigner sentiments, but that she would from henceforth, resist them, and fight them too, if they should threaten her and her family's lives and land.
Some seemed astonished by her sudden change of tune, while others agreed with her. Some appeared indifferent, but there and then, they all agreed to return to their land, to work their farms, and to dismiss the Golden Defenders from their lives. The ordeal seemed to have changed Sophine's mother, as she did not again go out with the Golden Defenders and she neither spoke of them.
It was a very short while until an angry mob of militia, armed with axes, sickles, shortswords and knives, all wearing yellow scarves, marched through their fields towards Chevelles. The farmers, as they had discussed, though fear and regret swept through some, ignored them and continued toiling the land. For the farmers, the rebellion was over.
That night, Sophine's mother made an announcement.
"I have some news. The merchant family, the Delaportes, they must be getting poorer. They have sold me their land. Good land too."
"Near the walls?" Sophine's father asked, referring to the crumbling walls of Chevelles, "it is good land," he Nagano cautiously, "but it is so far,"
"It is not too far. Sophine can work it." Sophine, who was in her bedroom reading, put down her book.
"Sophine ought to be a scholar," she heard her grandfather say. "Let us continue to work the land, Sophine ought to study."
Her mother scoffed, "I have never had any need for reading and writing. She is the oldest child, she must carry on working our land. Adephine can be sent to school. She shall learn and she can help me when I go to market and cannot do the price calculations." How could it be so? Sophine's eyes shone with anger.
"That is Sophine's fate, daughter, not Adephine's." Sophine could not bear it any longer, her cheeks flushing a deep red.
"I shall not work in the fields, and it is not fair that Adephine, who has no interest, can sit and learn in leisure, while I toil the earth."
Her mother finally agreed, which meant it was settled, "After your work then, go into town, see what you will need for scholar's supplies, and when you have worked off their costs, we can purchase them for you, and you can attend." Sophine was thrilled, even though she knew that the scholar's supplies would cost a year of farm work, she knew who to ask for them and was certain that she would not have to pay a thing. The candle merchant would help her, she was certain of it. Her mother did not know about that, and she had no intention of saying anything until she could come home with good news. Her heart thought it would burst from excitement.

Sophine was put to work in the new fields near the castle walls the very next morning while her father and Adephine changed the thatching on roof and worked to mend the tools - hoes, rakes and plows -in preparation for autumn harvest.

Since she did not know where the candle maker lived, she decided to head first to the school. In the market places the stalls where food had been sold were now empty. The shops had drawn in their bright banners and closed the fronts with thick boards fitting one into the other solidly. Sophine knew something was going to happen, she had seen the militia march past her own house after all. She passed through an empty town, as if it were night time.
She suddenly became aware of a few people gathered around in a circle on the street. One of them, hooded by his robe, said "excuse me." a foreign accent. He tried to squeeze between people of the circle and the wall of the building.
""it's a foreigner!" She heard someone else say. "The fiend is amongst us!" Another called out.
"I would like to go home, please let me through," it was a man's voice, good Cassioni, just accented.
"He speaks our language!" Sophine got closer. Realizing he was in danger, Sophine saw a sweat break out on his forehead, "I really must be going now, a good day to you all," but they blocked his way when he stepped forward. "If you would please allow me through,"
"I know him! He is part of the singing family!" Someone called out. He took out his girdle and offered it to the crowd. "Please, this is all I have, just let me pass to my family,"
"He is stealing from us! our language, our culture, our land's money. This is the proof of it. Why else would he hand over his girdle so willingly? So quickly? " The man pushed against the wall of people, who simply forced him back.
"The foreign lands do not send their best individuals to us. They send their worst. He is Against everything that we Cassion stand for. What should we do with him?" The man, now getting desperate, hurtled himself forward, desperate to get out of the circle.
"Kill him!" Came one voice. "Kill the foreign fiend!" And before anything else could happen, a sword was unsheathed, and in a single graceful movement, the crowd watched as a head dropped to the ground, coming to rest in a puddle of sludge, probably a mix of animal droppings, urine, wastewater and dirt. The crowd dispersed immediately. The one with the sword however, the one who had done the deed, removed a yellow scarf, dropping it atop the head, disappearing down one of the side alleys a moment later, the empty eyes staring after him.
She should have gone home then, but she was determined to see the candle maker. it was only a moment later before a group of uniformed combattants appeared, there to catch the one with the sword, Sophine figured. But Instead they stopped at a gate a few houses away, halted in a fan, their swords levelled not towards the entrance, but away from it. One was even on horseback. The rider, who seemed to be in authority, dismounted and Sophine watched as she strolled towards the entrance gates and gave an order. A combattant pulled a whip off of her horse and a sharp crack echoed, followed by a murmur from a small crowd that had assembled. Nothing happened. Another order was barked and the whip cracked again towards the wooden gates, leaving a scratch on them. Still nothing.
The rider mounted the horse and gave another command.
Combattants broke in the door. it was not long until another foreign man was jostled out through the gates, one combattant on each side of him with their arms linked through his. A conversation followed, which Sophine could not make out. The commander turned towards the crowd and raised her voice in what sounded like a proclamation. Sophine heard the words 'safe conduct' and 'protection' but when the woman had finished, her lips curled up in a sneer and she must have made a joke, because the crowd started laughing. The order to dispense was given, and she trotted back away, paying no attention to whether her orders were followed or not. The crowd remained as they were however, and Sophine watched as the foreign man was paraded through the town, behind the horse. She heard laughter and jeering and insults, saw waved fists, and could almost feel the streams of spit emitted from the Cassioni in the upper floors of the timber houses hit his head and trickle down his neck. The imperial combattants who were supposed protect him, allowed the onlookers to do whatever they wanted. Sophine was certain they were going slowly on purpose, so that everyone could get their insult in. It felt like ages before they turned the corner. The streets resumed being empty and quie and she continued on her way.
When she reached the school gate, she knocked and waited. She called out. "Hello! Is anyone there?" first in Cassioni and then in Tainish. No answer. Instead, there was a rising noise from somewhere over the other side of town, at first faint, like a wind of a summer storm approaching, and then gathering into a deeper howl. Sophine stood still, a strange fear crept over her. A woman who was smoking a pipe thrust her head out the window to cry down to Sophine. "They are here now, you had better go home quickly," she cried out, apparently not recognizing Sophine's farmer's tunic.
But it was not a wind that suddenly appeared on her street- the woman was right- half in a daze, Sophine watched as a tsunami wave of clamouring people many wearing yellow scarves rounded the corner, pressed together so tightly that they moved as one mass, foot on foot and body wedged against body wedged against wall. Not wanting to be caught up in the horde, she hurried ahead of them, but she was not quick enough and was caught up in the crowd, carried along by the current. swept along, her feet barely touching the ground. Suddenly, a pair of arms surrounded her and clamped down, yanking her abruptly out of the crowd and into a house.