Prologue

The trials had been going on for months and the last execution was about to take place.  A large crowd had gathered in the Town Square to watch the execution.  Merchants selling their goods, buskers in bright costumes and children running and playing gave the square a festive atmosphere.  The town’s people had come to see and celebrate the death of the last Speaker.  For them, this would be a day to remember.

Amongst the milling crowd, a sole figure walked.  Although her head was bent and she avoided contact with anyone, she had an unmistakable sense of dignity and power.  For the casual observer this was due to her extreme beauty.  With silken black hair, light olive skin and statuesque build, her beauty was indeed striking.  However the power of her presence did not come from her appearance, instead it radiated through from within.  But it was her eyes that told her story, the dignity was there, but it was her sadness that showed through.  Unlike the rest, this was no celebration for her.

The sounds of bugles silenced the crowd and all eyes turned to the balcony as the Censor entered and sat.  The old man, with stern face and angry eyes, watched the crowd and then turned to watch the prisoner being lead in.  At the sight of her a sly, cruel smile appeared on his face.  At last, he thought, I will be free of Speakers.

The crowd also turned its attention to the speaker.  Now chained and beaten, the crowd had the courage to show their hatred for her.  Children threw rotted fruit and women spat at her as she was lead to the platform.  Her hair was matted and her face swollen from a severe beating.  The fear of Speakers had given way to brutality.   These had not been fair trails but merely a showpiece for a foregone conclusion.  But for all the torturous events of the past months, the spark of pride glowed in her eyes.

The stranger in the crowd moved cautiously to the platform.  She had to get one last look before it ended.  She reached the platform as the Speaker was forced down onto the block.  She needed to save the Speaker but knew she had to remain silent.  The Speaker raised her head and their eyes met.  A silent plea and the knowledge that nothing could be done passed between them.  The Speaker held her gaze for a second longer and then resignedly dropped her eyes.

The crowd fell silent as the guillotine was raised.  With a swish and a cheer, the Speaker’s head bounced onto the wooden slats of the platform.  A tear formed in the stranger's eye as she turned back through the crowd.  They were now celebrating the end of the Speakers, but the stranger knew different, for she alone still carried their knowledge.

Chapter One

The sun beat hard on Flick’s neck as she bent to plant the seedling in the water.  The loose strands of her hair brushed the surface of the water every time she bent over.  Her feet sunk into the mud and her back ached.  It had been a long morning and she was tired of working.  Stopping to stretch, she looked at the other members of the community bending and planting in an almost rhythmic pattern.  A stern look from her mother returned Flick to her planting.  Sighing at the knowledge that her mother would lecture her later on the dependency of the community.

She had had many similar lectures over her seventeen years but no matter what her mother said she was unable to feel part of the community.  Her sense of individuality made her feel isolated from the other members and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t fit in.  She knew her mother was disappointed, but she could never seem to do the right thing.  Lately, she had been even more distracted.  And then there were the dreams.

The sound of an approaching wagon broke through Flick’s thoughts.  Looking up, she recognized her father at the reins.  He had returned from his trip but she knew this would only get her into more trouble.  Anyway her father would spend the rest of the day with the council and she would not see him until later that day.  The lunch bell rang and everyone moved out of the field and headed back to the village.

Flick found an empty seat by the window in the communal dining room and stared out the window.  In the distance, beyond the cultivated field, the jungle and mountains began.  For Flick that was where life began, away from the stifling atmosphere of her village life.

“Dreaming of far-of-places again, I see” a voice sounded behind her.

Looking up, Flick saw Runna standing at the end of the table.  Her ginger hair was disheveled and her clothes still had straw dangling form them.  Flick and Runner, being born on the same day, had grown up together and a strong bond had developed between them.  However, it still annoyed Flick that Runna seemed to get inside her head.

“Don’t you ever think about leaving here and seeing the world” Flick grumbled.

“It doesn’t interest me.  I’m not like you, Flick.  I’m content with my life.  You’ve always had your head in the clouds.”

Runna was right. Flick knew that she had always found tomorrow more fascinating than today.  Being different was part of Flicks nature and she tried to get on with the routine of work.  But her mind kept returning to the fact that she was so different from the rest of the community.  The day stretched on until dusk began to fall.

At home, her mother dished up the beef stew as the family sat around the kitchen table.  Her father looked stained by the long journey and the meeting with the council.  Flick wanted to know all the details of her father’s trip but she knew not to pressure him.  Eventually her would open up and discuss what he had seen.   Flick sat silently, trying to bend into the furniture, hoping her father would forget she was there.

After her mother cleared away the dishes and brought Flick’s father a cup of tea, he finally began to talk about his trip.  At first, it was just boring information on agricultural quotas and pest control.  But soon the talk turned towards the news from the south.  The famine was still raging and now there was news of a new plague.  Plant life was dying and there had been a few fatalities.  For now their village seemed safe.  But for how long.

“There is talk that the Speakers are back and taking their revenge on the people” Flick’s father said.

“Don’t be so stupid” her mother snapped.  “Speakers are just stories told to frighten children.”

“I’m just saying what I heard” her father grumbled as he left the room.

That night Flick lay in bed, thinking of what her father had said.  The talk of the new plague and the devastation it was causing played on her mind.  And what of the Speakers.  She had always believed that they were myths.  But somehow she kept thinking of the woman in her dreams.  Finally she fall to sleep thinking of all she had heard.  Shortly after she was asleep the dream returned.  It was the same woman, olive skin and black hair.  But unlike other times, now the woman spoke to her.

In a soft, but forceful voice the woman spoke, “I am the Guardian of the knowledge and you will become my pupil.”