Words on Fire - Page 65

We had barely driven to the door of the church when Ben came out, waving his arms as if to shoo us away. “Now? Why did you two have to come now?”

“We had to warn everyone—”

“They’re warned. Can’t you tell? Now go.”

“We have their books,” Lukas said.

Ben eyed the coffin in the back of our wagon and seemed to understand. “Let’s unload them and get you two away from here as quickly as possible.” Then he glared at me. “You should have stayed back with Milda. Why don’t you ever do as you’re told?”

“Tell me something I can obey, and I will.” I wasn’t in the mood to be scolded by him, not after all we’d been through to get here.

Ben directed us to drive around to the back of the church, where the priest was already waiting at the door. He said, “Get inside before someone sees you.”

We followed him inside as he directed a few men to go out and tend to our horses and to get the coffin. I couldn’t see how anyone heard him above the bustle of noise and activity inside the church, but his request was obeyed.

“What is everyone doing?” Lukas asked.

From where he stood, it must have looked like the people were dismantling their own church, but I stood a little deeper inside the nave and realized they were passing items belonging to the church to others waiting outside, attempting to rescue them.

A woman I had seen here on our last trip pointed at us. “They’re book carriers! They can help us get these treasures to safety.”

“No,” Ben said, cutting in front of me. “That is not their job.”

“Soldiers have arrived!” a man called from a position near a window. “Call everyone inside!” I wasn’t sure where he was stationed, but he must have had a view out front, because four men immediately brushed past us to get to the front of the church, where our wagon had just been. Each man held a pitchfork in his hands like it was a rifle. The main doors were opened barely long enough for me to look out and see a line of Cossack soldiers coming up the hill.

The priest said, “On orders from the governor in this region, this church is supposed to be burned. He believes that if we have nowhere to worship our God, we will be forced into worshipping their God.”

A woman standing near us said, “We won’t let them burn this church. But if they do, we must get everything out. Please help us.”

“You’ve gotten out everything that you can,” Ben said, stifling a cough. “Now please, for the last time, listen to me and get as far from this place as possible.”

“And let the Cossacks win again?” she asked, to echoes of agreement from the people around her.

“They will win,” Ben said. “No matter how many of you are here, it won’t matter. They will win.”

“Can’t we help them?” I asked. “She’s right, we are smugglers. We can—”

Ben pointed out the window. “What orders do you think those soldiers were given? To back down and let the people have a victory against the tsar? No, they are just waiting for more soldiers to arrive and then one side or the other will start a fight that will only end one way, and that is with dead Lithuanians in the street and a church burned to its foundation. Your work is to deliver books.”

“Our work is to do everything we can to free Lithuania! Words are never enough of a weapon. We must help these people fight!”

“No, Audra! For every man we bring to a fight, they can bring ten. For every weapon we can forge out of sickles and sticks and pitchforks, they have rifles and pistols and swords. The only weapon we have is who we are, and that is our words, our stories, our culture. If we preserve that, then there is always a chance for freedom, but to preserve that, we must stay alive.” He wanted to say more, I knew he did, but his next words were drowned out by a coughing spasm severe enough to force him to lean against a wall for support.

Lukas had a simpler argument. Touching my arm, he said, “Ben is right. Our lives are dedicated to saving the books. Maybe others teach from their books or transport them, and that is their purpose. These people are here to save this church. We’ve got jobs to do, and so have they.”

Reluctantly I began to follow Ben out the back of the church, but we didn’t get far before another group of people entered, those who had been outside helping to take objects from the church. “More soldiers are coming,” a woman said.

“Then why would you come in here?” Ben growled. “Go back to your homes!”

“That’s what I’m telling you,” she said. “We can’t leave. They’ve got us surrounded. If we go out there, they’ll arrest us.”

Lukas looked at me. “You can find us a way out, Audra. You always do. One of your father’s tricks, perhaps?”

I shook my head. “There’s no trick for something like this. Those soldiers intend to destroy this church, with or without us inside it.”

Ben pushed us behind him. “Here’s what we’re going to do. Lukas, you and Audra go as far to the back of the church as you can, and if shots are fired, I want you both inside that coffin you brought here.”

“What are you going to do?” I asked.

Tags: Jennifer A. Nielsen Historical
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