Chapter 11: A Meeting

Abish was unable to sleep that night in her alcove adjacent to the queen’s chamber. Undoubtedly, after the baby came, this small chamber would be given to the nurse. But despite its plainness, Abish liked this room. It had been many years since she had slept in such relative quiet. She had so seldom been alone in her life as a slave that it was a wonderful change to have a private place for her few possessions. Many nights she would lie awake for several minutes before sleep came. She would think on her day and review the next. Her prayers in this quiet place had become more fervent and sincere when she could kneel before her bed and speak her words aloud.

But neither prayers nor sleep came readily that night. She saw Ammon’s blue eyes swimming before her every time she closed her eyes. Unless someone told him, he would have no idea the depth of what he had gotten himself into. She had an idea where he would be sleeping: probably in the men’s slave quarters. Ammon offered himself as a servant, but the king had very few people he actually paid to be in his employ. The men’s quarters were right next to the women’s. Abish herself was a slave and was known as the palace midwife, there would be no reason for the guards to suspect her as out of place in that part of the palace, even if it was very late. The only problem would be if Zaria’s pains began and Abish could not be found. Her rational impulse was to lie back down, forget about the Nephite and just let him face his fate, unsuspecting and unprepared. But her heart whispered a different story.

Noiselessly, she put her bare feet to the side of her low cot and stood. She tiptoed to the queen’s chamber and listened. The queen, despite her bulk, was resting peacefully. She had shown no more sign of being ready when she went to bed that night than she had any day for the past week. Still, Abish knew that babies came when least expected, often suddenly. She would have to hurry.

The corridor was guarded, as she had expected. Lamoni’s family all slept within this hall. The guards roughly asked her name and business, “I am Abish, the queen’s midwife; she has sent me on an errand.”

“And what is the nature of this errand?”

Abish knew the soldiers were only harassing her because it was late at night and she was alone. She had been given free reign as long as she was in such close proximity to the queen so she assumed her most haughty voice, “It is the queen’s business and none of yours.”

The soldiers exchanged amused glances, but seeing they could not intimidate her or draw her into conversation they let her pass. She moved quietly past the kitchen, hearing voices from inside. Probably slaves still cleaning from the days’ meals, or even preparing food for the next day. She shuddered with faint distaste at her memories of her time serving there. She was close to the slave quarters now.

She went to the women’s quarters. Her friends there might suggest a way to help her. The guards were alert when she entered. She stated her name, and although they probably didn’t recognize her, her clothing designated her as a slave to the royal family. Such clothing gave her passage with few questions asked. She carefully shut the door behind herself. It was late. The room was mostly dark and, as far as she could tell, all were sleeping soundly. She paused for just a moment to get her bearings. What next? Why had she come here at all? She prayed again silently that she would somehow be shown what to do. There was an aisle down the center of the large room with beds on either side. She began walking carefully into the darkness, knowing there was a small trunk at the foot of every mattress, holding each woman’s possessions.

She heard a baby cry out near the end of the row on her right. The baby was young, well under a year. She immediately heard a mother stir and make shushing noises in the dark. She moved toward the sound. On impulse, Abish said, “Sasha?”

The woman started on her bed where she had just begun feeding her baby. “Abish? Is that you?”

“Yes.”

"By the gods you frightened me! What are you doing here?” She hissed in a whisper.

Abish instantly relaxed. She and Sasha had remained close since the birth of the breech baby. It had been nearly six months ago now. It wasn’t until later that Abish learned that if he had died it would have been Sasha’s third stillborn. Perhaps that was part of the reason for the miraculous reputation she had earned almost overnight with little Omri’s birth. She was grateful that Omri had picked that exact moment to insist on a nursing. God had indeed led her to the one person in this room who would do anything she could to help her.

Abish sat softly on the end of Sasha’s sleeping mat, trying not to disturb the chubby infant sucking greedily in her friend’s arms. She chuckled as she watched him, thinking that even if she began jumping up and down and screaming, it would not deter him from his task. “Wow. He looks good.”

"I should think so, he eats like a man starved every two hours.”

“How are you doing?”

"Very well, actually. Omri loves the carrier Ham fashioned for him. I am able to do all my work with him strapped right to my back. He’s hardly slowed me down a beat.”

“Wonderful. He sure has gained weight.”

“Yep, he’s a little fatty. Just like Ham.” Abish had to stifle a laugh. Sasha’s husband was shaped like a boulder.

Abish put her arm around her and gave her a slight squeeze. “I’m so happy it all worked out for you.”

“It could never have happened without you.”

She placed a light kiss on the young mother's temple. “Oh, it’s the mothers that do all the work.”

Abish put her arm down and wondered about the best way to approach what she needed when Sasha got right to the point, “Now, I know this isn’t a house call in the middle of the night, especially with the queen ready to pop any day. You are sneaking around down here; what is going on?”

With a smile, she said, “I need some help.”

“Is everything okay?” Sasha’s voice was immediately filled with concern.

"The king acquired a new servant today.”

“Yes, a Nephite, everyone has been talking about him.”

“Where is he staying?”

“With the slaves, but none of them are happy about it. They think that having him there will bring the displeasure of the gods.”

Abish nearly bit her tongue to keep from commenting about Sasha’s superstition. Instead she said, “Lamoni told him he would help tend the sheep.”

Sasha stifled a giggle, “Yes, I’d heard that too. I guess the king doesn’t like him any better than any of the other Nephites who’ve wandered this way.”

Abish decided to be blunt. “I would like to warn him.”

“What?” Came the astonished reply in a nearly a normal voice. The woman on the cot next to her shifted slightly and the two were silent for a moment. Sasha whispered, “Why?”

Abish shook her head, “I hardly know myself. I just feel like it is the right thing to do.”

“This could be serious trouble.”

"That is why I need your help.”

Sasha looked dubious. “I don’t know . . . and besides, what could I do anyway?” Little Omri detached himself from his mother’s breast with a contented sigh and snuggled against her in an impossibly uncomfortable position that only babies could manage.

Abish stroked his soft head as he made baby smiles in his sleep. “I may be an unmarried woman, Sasha, but I know a lot about babies and how they begin growing in the first place. If the male and female slaves in Lamoni’s household are supposed to lead such separate lives, then where do the babies come from?” Abish looked at her friend very directly and could see the chagrined expression on her face even in the darkness.

“There is a passage connecting the two chambers. It is probably known about by the king but nobody speaks of it.”

"Why isn’t there just movement through the normal hallway?”

Sasha shrugged, “Who knows; maybe tradition? It has always been done this way and probably always will be.” Abish looked at her imploringly, not sure what else to say. Sasha sighed, “Oh Abish, for the gift you have given me, how can I refuse anything?”

Abish smiled as Sasha laid her baby gently on the rug next to her bed. She padded softly after Sasha down the aisle to the end of the room, past the common cooking area. There, at the back of the room was a small door. She could tell from the architecture that the low door had indeed been an afterthought, but it wasn’t exactly hidden either. In all the years she’d slept there, Abish could hardly believe she didn’t know about it. Sasha opened it without the slightest creak, and whispered, “We keep the hinges well-greased.” Abish smothered a laugh and stepped carefully through after Sasha. She whispered, “I’ll get Ham; he will help us.”

Abish took deep breaths to steady herself as she waited in the back of the room. The smell of the men’s sleeping chamber was strong and she fought the urge to run back through the door and find her bed as quickly as she could. What was she doing here? And what would she say if Ham did manage to get the Nephite to talk to her? A few minutes later Ham followed his wife to Abish. He rubbed sleep out of his eyes; she could see that he was uncertain about what they were asking.

The women explained again what was wanted, but Ham was more reluctant than his wife to help. Although he too was grateful for the life of his son, he did not have the mother’s strong love toward the one who delivered the baby. “The gods will not like this, Abish.”

She fought impatience for the second time that night at the invocation of false gods. “How do you know that? How can it be the will of the gods that Lamoni continues killing his servants in anger over something they are not responsible for? Doesn’t it make more sense to believe that the gods would be thrilled if the sheep were saved and those responsible were brought to justice?” Ham seemed to weigh her words carefully and she continued, “I know that every man in here is terrified that he will mess up and offend somebody in a position of power and end up on shepherd duty.”

Ham nodded. He could not disagree with the truth of her last statement, but then he said, “And what makes you think this Nephite is so different than any of the others? Why should he have any better luck as a shepherd than any man in this room?”

Abish smiled and reassured him the only way she knew how. “I don’t know, Ham. I only know that when this man speaks, there is something remarkable about him. He is touched by some inner fire that gives him strength. Maybe there is something to the religion of the Nephites after all.” She stopped before she said too much.

Ham sighed. “You are determined. But nobody should know that better than Sasha and Omri. I will bring your Nephite back here to speak to you, but if this all goes badly then Sasha and I had nothing to do with it.”

“You have my word.”

He walked away and Sasha gave her a reassuring squeeze on her hand. “Everything will be fine, Abish. I’m glad Ham and I have been able to somehow repay you even though I think you must be touched in the head to even go near a Nephite.”

“Let’s not pass judgment just yet,” she said, smiling.

Sasha shrugged. “Whatever you say. Just make sure you don’t forget and go out that entrance.” She pointed to the opposite end of the long hall.

“I won’t.”

Sasha slipped wordlessly back into the women’s section and a moment later she saw Ham in the aisle, pointing Ammon toward Abish. She swallowed hard as he walked toward her. His chest was now uncovered and she was struck again by how strong he was. He was taller than he’d seemed earlier; probably because she had been standing on the dais near the king. In the dark she had difficulty imagining the light that seemed to surround him earlier that morning and she suddenly felt afraid. When his eyes adjusted to the darkness and he saw her fully, the dismay in his eyes was evident. Before she could speak he said, “Milady, this is no place for the king’s daughter.”

She nearly laughed aloud thinking about her short hair, always cropped near her scalp and the disfiguring earlobe that would never heal. “I am not the king’s daughter.”

He looked momentarily puzzled, “But you were there today, on the dais. I saw you look at me so directly when the king asked if I would marry his daughter. . .”

She quickly corrected him, “I am the queen’s slave and midwife. I was in court today to learn of gossip that might amuse her. She is impatient for delivery and becomes bored easily. King Lamoni’s daughter is still a child.”

His eyes widened “Why would he . . .”

She waved off his comment with her hand. “Old Lamanite tradition. Had you agreed to marry his daughter then you would have been his servant anyway, for pretty much as long as it pleased him.”

"I understand, but I still don’t know why you have come. It isn’t meet for any lady to be alone in such a place, regardless of your standing in this palace.”

She flushed, grateful for the dark to cover her red face. “I came to warn you.” She came directly to the point.

He nearly laughed aloud, “Are you kidding? These men here seem more afraid of me than anything. Even when your friend woke me up, he did no more than prod me with a stick. If my life is in danger, they will have to kill me without touching me.”

Abish smiled but shook her head. “No, it is the shepherding that is the hazard.”

Again, he nearly laughed out loud. “How can it be?”

With a sigh. she motioned for Ammon to sit. She sat on the ground, wanting him to understand the whole situation, and knowing it would not be a short story. “Lamoni’s father is king over all the Lamanite lands. There are many areas ruled separately, however. Lamoni’s father doles these lands out to his sons or friends as he sees fit. Some of the lands are more desirable than others. When he dies, one of his sons will be named king over all the Lamanites. He will ask whoever seems to be the most competent. Lamoni has always been held in great favor with his father. He is fair and honest. His wife is an Amalekite, so he has forged an important friendship with a group that nobody wants as enemies.” Ammon nodded, he obviously knew of her people.

“About two years ago, Lamoni began having serious trouble with his sheep. They are often driven away, scattered and stolen. Each time the flock is rebuilt or found, it happens again. For many years, the land of Ishmael was known for its sheep—the king’s sheep being the best of those. But in two years, Lamoni has not been able to turn a profit from his sheep because of the problems.”

“Who is doing this?”

“Nobody knows for sure, but there are suspicions. Lamoni’s brother runs a neighboring city—a lesser city with few resources. The queen says this brother has been jealous of Lamoni for many years. She believes that the scattering is all a game to make Lamoni look bad and improve the brother’s standing in front of his father.”

“So that he might one day be king of the Lamanites instead?”

Abish shrugged, “Or at least so that Lamoni will not be.”

“So is my life in danger because those who do the scattering kill the shepherds?”

She nodded. “Sometimes, but there is more to it than that. This whole game makes Lamoni furious, of course. In many other areas of his rule he is actually quite a temperate, generous man. Not so with the sheep problem. Lamoni has servants and slaves put to death when they are unable to defend the flocks. Especially if they can provide no information about their attackers.”

Maybe she just imagined it, but she saw the blood drain from his face, even in the dark. It was nearly silent for a moment, the only sound coming from the sleepers in the room. “Why would your king set me to this task just moments after offering his daughter as a marriage partner?”

“I do not know. Perhaps you offended him by refusing.”

“I thought to honor him by serving.”

“Perhaps you will.”

"This task seems very difficult.”

Again, there was silence as she framed her words carefully. “I came to tell you these things tonight because I believe deeply that you might be the one to turn this around. If you could, Lamoni would listen to any words that you said.”

He raised his eyebrows and peered closely at her, “And what makes you think I have come to tell Lamoni anything?”

“Only one time have I seen another person carry the light of the true God in their eyes the way you do. That person taught me the gospel and then was killed for his beliefs.” Her eyes filled with years of unshed tears that came unbidden, she sniffed them back, willing them to stop. “His final admonition to me was to live for my beliefs, and that if I did I would see a time when others came to a knowledge of the Redeemer who has yet to come—the God the Nephites proclaim. I have prayed for many years that this day would come. The voice in my heart whispered deliverance today when I looked at you as you spoke toe-to-toe with a king.”

He spoke in a whisper of such low intensity she had to strain to hear, “The same voice spoke to my heart, telling me to come to the land of Ishmael because someone had prayed me here.” He put his strong hand under her chin and held it up to face him. “I would never have guessed those prayers had come from the slave of a king.” He turned her head slightly to the side, observing the notch in her ear beneath her short hair. “This defect was given to you, was it not?”

The tears she had been fighting now spilled easily, but noiselessly down her cheeks. Not since the day of her father’s death had another person looked at her so directly and seen her for what she was—a daughter of God. Not since her father’s death had she allowed such tears to fall. She choked out the words, “It is the mark of a slave.”

“I will guard the king’s sheep, and then I will stand before your king to proclaim that all men and women are equal in the sight of the true God of Heaven. I will do all in my power to see that you are not a slave for the remainder of your life.”

Ammon still held her face for a moment longer and she whispered, “You are sent from God himself.”

He dropped his hand, “I will serve him as long as there is breath in my body.”

“Then do not go to the waters of Sebus unprepared.” She stood. “I must leave; the queen is often in need of me during the night. It would not be well with me if my absence was discovered.”

He stood easily too. “I understand, and I thank you.” She turned away from him toward the low door. His voice rose just slightly and called her back, “What is your name?”

“Abish.” She whispered and then scurried back through the passage toward the women’s quarters.