Tabula Rasa

Done

2009-06-20T17:17:00.000-07:00

That's it. All chapters posted. I've also turned on the comments so you are welcome to leave whatever messages you want about the manuscript. Even anonymously if you are so inclined. Please let me know what you think: either chapter by chapter or just at the end or in an email. ANY and all feedback is appreciated! You are also welcome to send anybody to the story. I have tried to set it up so that the chapters can be easily accessed with the sidebar archives arranged from oldest to newest.

Chapter 30: The Real Story of the Gospel

2009-06-18T11:46:00.000-07:00

Alma and his missionaries were gone a long time, and, as predicted, had very little success. Their few converts moved to Jershon and Alma seemed very tired when he returned with his sons. After meeting with Alma, Himni was distracted but said very little to Abish about it. He only said that Alma was taking some time to gather his sons to him and give them some counsel. Abish did not think this was so strange—hadn’t many prophets in the scriptures gathered their children for blessings and advice? Himni agreed saying, “You are right, it is not uncommon for a prophet to do so. But it is usually just before his death.” The thought sobered Abish immediately. Alma was not an old man, no more than a few years older than Ammon. It was true that Alma’s sons were grown up and Ammon’s were still young, but they were very nearly the same age. Himni added, “And he wishes to see you tomorrow.”

She clapped her hands outside the door to Alma’s small home. He called out for her to come in, and she stepped inside reverentially. She had never been there before. It seemed almost strange for a prophet to have a home. She had so often seen him preaching or traveling. His house was not unlike her own. Each simple thing had a place and there was nothing extra. Nothing unneeded. To the back of the house was a door covered with a cloth. He stood in this door and invited her back into the small space where he sat.

The room she entered then was entirely different. Furniture was sparse, but documents filled the room from floor to ceiling. There were two small stools and a tiny desk. Near the desk she could see thin sheets of metal the size and thickness of small sheet of parchment. There were also stacks of animal skins. Himni had told her of the hours Alma spent copying the sacred texts over and over again as well as making writings of his own. He and his brothers had spent much time doing the same, but she could never have imagined a room like this. She sat hard in the stool Alma offered her, still saying nothing, just marveling at the spiritual history in which she found herself immersed. Somewhere in these stacks were the original writings of Nephi and his brother Jacob. Undoubtedly there was the first copy of King Benjamin’s speech made in this very city just fifty years ago. Were there older writings too? She knew the plates of brass contained records written by Moses and Abraham. Were the plates of brass in this tiny, unprotected room? Himni had once said that few knew of this record so that it would be kept safe. She couldn’t imagine the loss to a nation if their record was erased.

Alma said nothing for several moments either, seeming pleased with her reaction. He cleared his throat, “Has Himni told you of the record I keep?”

Abish found her voice, “Yes . . . he has. . . somewhat. But I had no idea. . .”

“Few do. The record is safer that way. When I first learned of the records I imagined something that could be held in your hand. My reaction was like yours.”

“How is it moved?”

“Very carefully.” He smiled, always full of good-humor. His comment relaxed the moment and Abish smiled too. “But I did not ask you here to discuss the particulars of this record. I have asked you here because I would like to make your story a part of it.”

Her already wide eyes nearly popped from her head at his comment. “My story?”

“Yes, Abish. Your story.”

“I thought Omner kept a record of the mission to the Lamanites.”

“He did, a very good record. He talked about cities preached in and numbers of converts from the cities. He tells about the conversions of your two kings and the effect that had on the people. His record gives specific details about Lamoni’s covenant and its after-effects. When you put it together with the Ammon’s psalm, we have a very thorough and beautiful record.”

Abish knit her dark brows together, “So what more can I possibly add?”

Alma leaned forward, his intense gray eyes burrowing into hers. “Stories of kings being converted through miracles and signs and huge numbers of people following suit is very exciting. I am sure that for generations your people and my people will understand this short record as some of the most telling about the power of missionary work. That is why the record is very good. But it is missing something.”

“My story?” Her tone challenged the prophet to make her understand.

“You know my own redemptive journey had a very rocky start?” She nodded. “Indeed Himni or any of his brothers would have told you that part of our life. The visit from that angel was seen by many as a miracle. But to me, the real miracle is what took place in my soul in the days that followed. I know God can snatch a man from the very jaws of Hell and redeem him if he will but decide to follow. The real story of the gospel is not a record of how many thousand men uttered Lamoni’s covenant and buried their weapons; it is one man who loves God so much he would risk all he has in faith to never again disobey the commandments. Can you see what I say Abish?”

She nodded slowly, “I think so.”

“The mission of the sons of Mosiah is not just about a missionary with great charisma and a king with a way of influencing thousands, it is also about a slave girl who prayed in faith every night for years that God would somehow redeem her people so that the mission of her father might be fulfilled.”

She said quietly, “It is about one sincere heart being turned over to God and then remade slowly and painfully into his image.”

“Exactly!”

“Where should I start?”

“Begin with your father’s vision.”

The interview lasted through much of the afternoon. As she told details of her story, she realized just how much she had experienced. She thought of memories long buried. It felt good to share her trials of faith and overcoming with such a sympathetic listener. She wondered if judgment day would be like this. Instead of weighing your deeds on a balance, Christ would simply ask you to tell about your journey. If your journey showed that you learned from your mistakes instead of continually repeating them, your life would be acceptable to the Lord and his atonement would take care of all the mistakes you made while you were learning. It was a nice idea.

As they finished she felt a little sheepish as she saw the pages he scrawled through. “It is rather long; I am afraid you will not be able to include much.”

Alma shrugged. “It is a good story. And our record is sparse with the stories of women. It wasn’t this way in the ancient scriptures. I think your story can benefit many.”

“Do you really think that this record will be read for generations?”

“Actually, I think it will be read very little in our time, or even the time of our great grandchildren. God has revealed to me a little bit about the history of our people. I cannot share all that I know, but I will tell you the record will not survive like this.” He gestured around the room. “It will continue to be passed through prophet to prophet until there are no more righteous Nephites to give these sacred things to. At that time, the record will be abridged, to keep the most essential parts. The abridgement will resurface many, many generations from now in a land far distant. It is that people who will then learn of us and our struggles.”

She was silent for a moment as she thought of what terrible thing could happen for there to be no more righteous Nephites. For a moment, she caught the vaguest glimpse of the end of a great nation—a nation she had adopted as her own and its blood that now flowed in the veins of her children. She then thought of the best way to formulate her question. She could see that he was waiting patiently for it, so she decided to go ahead, “Does it get discouraging sometimes—keeping such a faithful and careful record when you know that much will be taken out?”

Alma shrugged, “Yes. It does. I would not be human if I said otherwise. But I have also been blessed to see much of how this story ends and I know that the record is the most important thing I can do. The preservation, of even a portion of it, is vital. If the world is to be prepared for a time when Christ will come to reign personally over the earth, then the world must have this record.”

“With my story in it.” She said very quietly and with no small measure of awe.

“Yes, sister, with your story in it.” It was Alma who hesitated this time, but Abish knew that he wasn’t finished, so she waited. “I feel impressed to tell you that your story is not at an end. There will yet be many experiences to try your faith. These few years have been a season of joy, and a time of rest for the faithful. Even now the Lamanite hatred builds toward our blessedness and the resentment will again boil over. In the meantime, the Nephite army is preparing and watching. We will not be caught unawares, but the mourning of our women during the last Lamanite war is nothing compared to the wails that will rise to the heavens in the coming years. I do not know the outcome, but I know the Ammonites will play a critical role in that result. Carry these experiences in your heart so that you are strong enough to face the darkness that will most surely come.”

Abish’s eyes teared and she nodded. A dark pall was suddenly cast over the afternoon, and she was unsure if she was thankful for the warning or not. With the mood still over them, he stood and showed her to the front door. She turned very suddenly, realizing that for years she had hoped to find a private opportunity to tell the prophet something, but had never found the chance. In that moment it became very urgent that she not leave it unsaid, “I never thanked you for calling my spirit back to my body.”

“When Armac was born.”

She nodded, “I was dead, you know. I was headed far from this life without a backward thought. I then heard your voice, calling me back. Himni later told me you happened to be in town that terrible day and came to see how we were, only to find a mourning husband, a wailing baby and a dead wife. But even before he told me that it was your voice in the blessing, I knew.”

“Himni did not ask for a miracle that day. He only asked that I give him and the newborn a blessing of comfort. But the Lord told me otherwise.”

“He told me otherwise too when I tried to ignore the prophet and go to Him.”

“What was it like?”

“Heaven?” Alma nodded and Abish was silent for a moment. Trying, as she allowed herself to do very occasionally, to capture any memory from those few brief moments in the presence of the Savior. She shook her head after a moment. “When my father told me of the gospel, I was so happy that it took me some time to give a word to how I felt.”

“Peace.”

“Yes. That is the very word I found. Being in the presence of God was the same feeling, only greater, more intense. I think those spiritual experiences we have here are just tastes of the feast waiting for us. Even after I came back to my body, I didn’t fully come back for a long time. Himni had to remind me that my mission was unfinished here before I could accept the will of the Lord. I so wanted to go with him that day.” Her voice cracked slightly.

“I can understand that.”

Abish looked at him closely as he said these simple words. He did not appear to be sick or have lost any of the vigor he possessed when she first met him, but she said, “I’m never going to see you again, am I?”

Alma smiled gently and shook his head, “I don’t think so. May you be likewise blessed at the end of your mortal probation to see so clearly when it is time to tie up loose ends and make your final preparation.”

She leaned up and kissed both his cheeks after the manner of Lamanite women, “Then go with God, dear prophet. May he take you to his bosom where you will rest in the peace he has promised to the righteous.”

“And one day I will see you there too.”

She turned without a goodbye and left his house. The bright sunlight on the street was garish and almost cold after the gentle warmth of Alma’s house. She murmured a few greetings to neighbors and acquaintances as she made her way through the crowds back to her own home. As she pulled back the heavy rug into her home, she saw Himni cheering the baby as he took some eager steps forward. At the same time, her little daughter was preparing some lumpy corn cakes. Armac was sitting at the small writing desk practicing his uneven characters while his father congratulated him for his excellent work. The spirit leaped in her heart and she felt a measure of that joyful peace she had just spoken to Alma about. The baby saw her first and he toddled rapidly toward her babbling with joy, his arms outstretched.

She picked up her little son, buried her head in his neck and kissed him while he giggled. She would have her season of joy now, and she would look for joyful moments later. She would prepare her family so one day they would be part of that wonderful mass of Saints pushing toward the light that was the Lord over the Earth. A single redeemed soul could indeed affect the lives of untold generations, and she would work every day of her life to praise the Lord for His wisdom for once sending a remarkable vision to a man whose only convert would be his daughter.

Chapter 29—I’ll Go Where You Want Me to Go

2009-06-18T11:43:00.000-07:00

They spent many more months in Amulek’s home. Abish’s recovery was slow and young Armac was used to his nurse. Abish was never able to be a mother to him in that sense, but she still spent many hours each day holding him. As he became more mobile Abish was able to move also. It seemed she relearned to do everything the same time her child did—sitting on her own, eating, even walking. By the time he was just over a year, Abish was ready to travel.

Although she and Himni had once talked about Zarahemla, she now found herself impatient to see her friends in Jershon, but such a thing was not possible. The Lamanites had likewise spent the past year gathering strength and were now embroiled in a war against the Nephites just south of Jershon. Abish could see her husband’s desire to go and stand with his brethren, but Alma had said calmly, “There are plenty of soldiers, my friend, but your skills are needed elsewhere. This people will survive, but where will they be if there is no leadership for their church?”

Abish understood his frustration; the only family she had ever really known was at the center of the conflict and it could certainly not be easy for them. The Nephites had agreed to the defense of Jershon, knowing the covenant most of the Anti-Nephi-Lehies had entered into. And although Abish knew there had been many guarantees about the financial support those in Jershon would lend to Zarahemla, this new land had yet to generate a senine of income for the Nephite nation to help with their defense.

When she was well, they traveled to Zarahemla. Alma was often gone and needed someone to help lead the church in his stead. Abish bid a tearful farewell to Shona and thanked her profoundly for the love she had shown. There were few other friends to say goodbye too. In the time they had lived with Amulek, Abish had spent much of her time indoors. She walked through the city that last morning with fond feelings, wondering how many of the unknown sisters in those homes had served her and prayed for her, even when she was unaware they were doing it. She squeezed Himni’s hand while he adjusted the sleeping Armac on his back and they headed once more into the unknown.

Zarahemla was a bigger city than Melek, but no larger than Ishmael. Although its size initially overwhelmed her after her quiet existence of the last year, she adjusted very quickly. The other believers were as friendly as they had been in Melek and many people remembered Himni as a boy and were happy to have him in their midst. Himni was a compassionate leader and Abish knew he did much good for the church.

The thing that surprised Abish the most were the number of non-believers living in Zarahemla. In the Land of Nephi, those that didn’t believe usually moved to other cities. The believers in those cities then moved to Ishmael or Middoni or Helam. But in this land, Abish had many neighbors that were not part of the church. Some of them were friendly: others were antagonistic. Himni laughed at her surprise, “Abish, surely you didn’t think all Nephites were believers. Why, you know the story of my brothers and Alma and how we led many away.”

“I just assumed that when you came back, many others came with you.”

“Many did. But many had been far out of the church long before we were. Look at Zaria’s people. They were so resistant to the teachings of the church that they began a new city and religion in Lamanite lands with their perversions of the Law of Moses. The Amalekites weren’t the first to do so and certainly won’t be the last. In fact, about the same time we came to this land there was a man named Zoram who gained quite a following preaching a new brand of religion. He has settled some of the area south of Jershon with his new converts and has begun to blend his religion with other fringe groups living over there.”

“Perhaps I was naïve to think it would be different, but I just don’t get it.”

“Don’t get what?”

“Well, the Lamanites have some excuse for not believing—we had the terrible traditions of our fathers to overcome. But the Nephites! How can some of them behave the way they do when they are surrounded by the truth? The very reason their country runs with so much peace and goodwill is because of the gospel. How can they so take for granted the blessings of the Lord that they won’t even recognize his hand?”

Himni shrugged, “The Lord still gives us our agency.” His voice lowered and he said gently, “Even all your wonderful kinsmen in Jershon: how long do you think they will all hold to the faith?” Abish sat down hard; she had never considered this before. Himni spoke even more gently. “The Ammonites have been through a lot—except for the children, most of those in the church remember a time when they did not have the gospel. They remember the horror of the human sacrifice. They remember the day that thousands of believers were slaughtered. They will never forget their long exodus of this past year. They will never forget hearing Ammon preach. But what of their children and grandchildren who will probably know little but the complacency of peace and freedom to worship? What will remind them of the many sacrifices of their fathers?”

“They must be taught.”

Himni nodded and added, “But some will still choose to learn by their own difficult experiences what is right and what is wrong.”

Abish nodded slowly and patted Himni’s arm, “And some who choose poorly will come back.”

He smiled and kissed the top of her head, “I thank the Lord every day for repentance.”

The first Lamanite war of that time ended with much slaughter on both sides, but the Lamanites were repelled. Loss to the Nephites had also been great, but it seemed peace had been purchased. It would take the Lamanites some time to rebuild and rekindle the anger that led them north to begin with. Abish finally journeyed with Armac to Jershon when a road was built. To her surprise, she was just in time to deliver Zaria and Aaron’s first child, and there was much rejoicing all around. For although there was not an official queen in the land of Jershon, there were many who still saw Zaria in that light. Gifts poured in from around the land and from the quality and abundance of them, Abish could see the people had prospered. Her brother was well and happy; he and Sasha had begun a second family themselves. The sorrow of her firstborn’s death would never truly leave her eyes, but she had found a good life. Abish felt her heart torn between Zarahemla and Jershon, so she and Himni found themselves splitting their time between the two cities, traveling to wherever Alma needed Himni to work in the church. Abish still delivered babies often, although not as much as she once had.

To Himni’s great distress, Abish became pregnant again. Despite the difficulties of the first, the second progressed as any other normal pregnancy. The baby girl came with no complications and Abish was finally able to push away memories of the first difficult months after Armac’s birth and replace it with the joy her daughter brought to them.

The Zoramite group Himni once told her of had made a clean enough break with the Nephites that Alma feared they would soon ally themselves to the Lamanites. He decided to lead a mission to preach to them, in an effort to reclaim some of them for the sake of their souls and for Nephite safety. Although it would be some years before the force was strong enough to attack again, the Lamanites seemed to be preparing for battle anyway—gathering weapons and reinforcements from conquered tribes far to the south. Groups on the border unfriendly to the Nephites were always worrisome.

They were in Jershon when Alma recruited Himni’s brothers one by one to join him. Yet he didn’t come to Himni. Abish sensed that her husband was tense over this development. She said to him, “Maybe he just assumes you will go.”

“I would be ready to go if he needed me. But why would he talk to each of my brothers individually and just assume that I knew to come? They prepare to leave in just two weeks and I don’t even know if I should pack.”

“Would it be so bad to stay?” Abish asked gently with a slight smile. She was with child again, but not very far along. Himni did not know; she was waiting to tell him after they knew whether Alma would ask Himni to serve a mission. She did not want him to stay back for her—not this time. She was healthy now and she wanted him to put the Lord first.

Himni smiled, “Of course not. I just want the Lord’s prophet to know that I am ready to go if and when he needs me.”

“I am sure the Lord knows; that will maybe have to be enough for a time.”

He leaned over to kiss her cheek, “You always seem to say the right thing. I’ll be patient.”

Alma did indeed have plans for her husband. He wanted Himni to stay behind and be in charge of the church in Zarahemla. Himni felt the weight of the responsibility very heavily and spent many hours on his knees. Abish appreciated his sincere humility more than she could say, but she also knew that it was this very thing that prepared him for his calling.

They said goodbye to the band of missionaries before traveling to Zarahemla. Although Himni knew the right choice had been made, Abish could still sense his wistfulness as he said goodbye, in turn to Alma, Ammon, Aaron, Omner, and two of Alma’s sons. Amulek and his friend Zeezrom would be joining them in just a few days. She stood back slightly as Ammon hugged and pumped his brother on the back. They were both teary-eyed. Ammon said quietly, “I am not quite sure how I will serve a mission without you.”

“We have been apart much in recent years.” Himni countered.

“But a mission is different. To be a great missionary, a man needs to be surrounded by his best companions.”

Himni pushed him back and smiled, “Yet you went alone to the land of Ishmael and so began the greatest work in our whole history.”

Ammon looked past Himni to where Abish stood, holding her daughter while Armac clung to her skirts. “That wasn’t my idea, it was hers.” He nodded toward her and Abish smiled quietly at this important bond they had shared since the day they first spoke to one another.

“By the way, have I thanked you for finding her?” Himni said.

“Only about a hundred times.”

“Then I’ll just say it once more for good measure.”

“No need. I am glad the Lord led me to her as well. Everything is different for thousands of people, and for us, because of her faith. Be good to her.”

“Of course.”

They hugged again and the rest of the goodbyes were brief. Abish was silent for some minutes after the departure before saying, “There are many ways to serve a mission.”

Himni laced his fingers through hers, “I know,” though there was a tone in his voice that wasn’t very convincing.

“The church needs you here. And the Zoramites need them there.”

“I have accepted it. I still don’t feel prepared for it, but I have accepted that it is God’s will.”

“Which is precisely why you will do such a good job. If I know anybody who will put himself aside so the Lord can do His work then it is you.” They walked in companionable silence for some minutes when she queried,”Do you think they will have much luck?”

Himni shrugged, “I don’t know. The Zoramites are a prideful people with a lot of material wealth. The few poor among them, mostly people that were already in the land before they arrived, have been shockingly treated. They have perverted true worship and only allowed the very wealthy to participate. There are even rumors that there is a woman there who has set herself up as some kind of prophetess, reviving ancient, terrible, practices that were part of the old world. While some might regard her as a receiver of some kind of truth, she is little more than a harlot—selling her body and the bodies of her followers for money in exchange for a supposed spiritual uplift. . . no, Abish, I do not know if they will have much success among the Zoramites.”

“Still, you never can say who will accept the gospel and change their lives because of it.” Himni nodded and it was quiet for several more minutes while they were both lost in their own thoughts of those who had, against all odds, come to the fold of God. Abish observed, “It seems that those who once had the truth are much harder to convince than those who never had it.”

“I agree completely. I don’t know if I ever told you of the time Aaron and I tried to preach in the city of Jerusalem?” Abish shook her head and Himni began sharing stories from the early days of his mission, before she knew him. It had taken fifteen years, but now he could laugh about an experience that had nearly cost him his life.

Chapter 28—To the Very Limits of Your Strength

2009-06-14T20:13:00.001-07:00

And just like that, their mission was over. With Alma, they journeyed to Melek the next day, where they met a friend of Alma’s. Amulek was very hospitable and overjoyed to see them, but there was little time for reminiscing. The letter had reached Zarahemla and the Nephites had already agreed to give the land of Jershon to the Anti-Nephi-Lehies. While Ammon and Aaron were especially anxious to get back to their families, Alma gave another reason for haste. South of Jershon in the East Wilderness were groups not always friendly with the Nephites. One group, the Zoramites, had recently settled there and Ammon was unsure about how friendly relations would stay.

Himni listened to the discussion during their evening meal without saying anything. He did not want to take Abish back into the wilderness. She was exhausted. It was true she hadn’t had another break down like that terrible night weeks ago, but their travel had been hard and their days long. Anxious to show him that she was doing fine, she helped equally with the other women in preparing food and seeing to the running of their small camp. She often helped with the children, even carrying the baby for her sister-in-law at times. The only time in his life he remembered worrying so much was the weeks during his brother’s imprisonment. He tried to remind himself that the outcome would be equally positive and that even suffering had its purpose. Just as in those long, waiting weeks outside the city of Middoni he felt powerless.

Mercifully, Amulek found a quiet spot for Abish to make her bed that night and Himni felt better after he saw her resting. He gathered again with the men who were still making plans and decisions. It was likely the whole group would break up tomorrow and all seemed anxious to share their stories of the past decade. Amulek’s conversion story was truly remarkable. Aaron told of his imprisonment and how he came to be the husband of a queen. Ammon told about the day of the massacre and the death of a true friend. Omner told of the soldiers throwing down their weapons and joining the church. In spite of his impatience to make decisions, Himni couldn’t help but share the story of a young slave-girl who prayed Ammon to Lamoni’s household.

It was very early in the morning before decisions were finally reached. As Alma made new assignments, Himni breathed a sigh of relief when the prophet said, “Himni, you will stay here, at least until your wife is delivered and recovered. Amulek and Shona have offered this place as long as you need. Your brothers will lead the Ammonites to Jershon, but for now your role is to your family.”

Tears sprang to Himni’s eyes and he smiled slowly. He could do nothing but clap Alma on the arm and thank him. Alma smiled and turned away quickly, “Well, it is settled then. I was on my way to Manti, and need to conduct my business there, but I will be back in Zarahemla by the end of the month. You should get to Jershon the same time. I will send my men with word back to the capital about the forming plans. You have many women—widows—in your group; I will request that a group of soldiers go with one of our best commanders to help get everyone settled and provide protection. Your people will need much support until a crop can go in the ground next spring. Our cold season is short, but it will soon be upon us.” Himni was grateful for the sound and careful plans that would provide for so many, but mostly he was grateful for the rest his wife would enjoy for a time.

Abish stared at the ceiling. Sleep did not come easily these days, but she had to admit that the last several weeks had been the best of pregnancy so far. Despite her ever-increasing size, she felt rested and even pampered—a state with which she was wholly unfamiliar. Other than living in a home that wasn’t their own, their lives, for the first time in years were suddenly very normal. Himni worked each day in Amulek’s large garden, helping to gather the plants that would see them through the winter. He also spent part of many days hunting. Amulek’s wife taught Abish a technique for curing raw meats, making them sweet so they could be eaten later in the winter. She explained that the original Nephite women had learned this method in the old world and passed on through generations. She learned how to cook and prepare Nephite food and how to behave according to new customs and a keep a stricter observance of the Law of Moses.

Mostly she waited. For the first time in many years she felt still, deeply still. She prayed earnestly and memorized passages of scriptures. She learned them slowly so that she might understand their meaning as well. She practiced speaking the Nephite language with Amulek and his wife who often teased Himni for how heavily accented his own speech had become.

“Himni?” She said softly into the darkness, knowing he was probably asleep, but suddenly wanting to tell him something very much.

Without even missing a beat he said, “Yes dear,” in a completely normal, non-sleepy voice.

“I thought you would be asleep.”

“Then why are you talking to me?” He teased as he rolled up on to one arm.

She lay sideways facing him. “I love you.”

He made a face, “That’s it?”

She could see he was teasing again and smiled, “Sorry, no earth shattering revelation, just that I love you. Thank you for bringing me here—even when we weren’t sure it was the right thing.”

He laid his hand on her abdomen. The baby squirmed and wriggled under his father’s touch. He smiled. “It did turn out to be the right thing. I am glad we have this slow time together before our son comes. We will have few times like this ever again.”

“It is true.”

“After the baby comes, do you think you would like to go to Zarahemla?”

“And not to Jershon?”

“Maybe just for a time. Alma told me that my family house is still in tact. It was one of my father’s last requests—that the house be maintained and cared for so that when his sons came back they would have a home. Even in death he never gave up on the Lord’s promise that we would be kept safe.”
“Is this what you want?”

He shrugged, “I am unsure. I want to see our people settled in Jershon, but I long to show you the place I was raised. Roads will soon be established between my father’s city and Ammonite lands. We could stay for a time and then decide what we want.”

“Let us see how we feel when the baby comes, but I think I would also like to see where you came from. Besides, ever since we met up with Alma I have felt strongly that it is time for a new start. In Jershon, things will be as they always have been.” She couldn’t help but touch the earlobe that never healed no matter how much she changed and grew. The people here never had known her as anything but Himni’s wife. There were no past memories or prejudices to cloud her way forward.

Himni nodded. “I feel the same way, but we do not have to decide right now.”

The Nephite winter was upon them, but mixed in with the cold and rainy days, there were also sunny and warm days. Abish knew her time was near, within a few weeks perhaps, but her body had given no sign the baby would come early. As with most women, when their time grew near, her feet swelled, particularly after a long day. On such days, Shona would insist that she rest and Himni would bring her as many buckets of fresh water as she could drink. The swelling always abated quickly with such queenly treatment. Abish remarked one lovely morning to Shona that she was spoiling her.

Shona laughed, “It is your turn, my dear. Himni has told Amulek, and my husband has told me of the many women you have delivered over the past many years. While you hardly seem much more than a child yourself, you have been the means of bringing kings and queens into this world. It is time for you to take a rest.”

“I appreciate it more than I can say.”

“I know, child; I see it in your face every time.” She smiled, and Abish imagined that Shona was a little bit like what her mother had become after she joined the church. Hardly disguising the chuckle in her voice, Shona added, “Besides, there will be precious little time to take care of yourself when the baby comes. Take advantage of your last days of queenly treatement while you still can.”

That day had been a good day, but the few days following were stormy and dark and Abish had raging headaches. With the headaches, her sickness returned, and the mood in Amulek’s home became somber. Abish fought the blurry vision her pains brought on and knew she had seen such symptoms in other women. She prayed the baby would come soon. She believed it was not too early for the baby to be healthy and it was the only way to stop the other problems she was having.

After three days in bed, the sun came out and Abish felt better. She had been allowed to sleep late in the beautiful, fresh morning. When she woke, the house was still, and Abish remembered that Himni had church business with Amulek that day, and the mistress of the house always spent this day of the week shopping and visiting. There would be no one to lecture her about not doing anything strenuous, and it was a beautiful day. Just as she was fond of telling all the mothers she had delivered over the years, “You aren’t sick, just pregnant.” She admonished them to take it easy when they felt tired, but mostly she encouraged them to do all their normal tasks. Indeed, what choice did women really have? So today, she would let nobody tell her to be lazy and she would, instead, go for a walk in the meadow near the river.

Her pace wasn’t quick, but it didn’t matter. It was nice to have no where to go and no obligations. She marveled at the beauty she found such a short distance from Amulek’s home, and by the time she began to feel tired she realized she had gone much further than expected. She had not left the forested side of the river and knew that finding her way back would not be difficult, but she was suddenly exhausted. In addition, she felt her headache coming back on. Taking a large drink of water, she found a sunny patch of meadow and spread herself out to take a short nap before setting out again. Even in the sun it was just barely warm enough, but as she snuggled into her robe, she felt the peace of sound sleep come upon her.

The voice in her dream was from a long ago past, but she couldn’t place it. Was it her mother’s maybe? The voice was scolding her for staying in bed too long when there was so much to be done. She listened to the voice vaguely wondering if she should do as it said, when she felt a horrible jabbing sensation grip and release her lower abdomen.

She sat bolt upright, wide awake in just a moment, although the pounding behind her eyes had worsened and she found focusing nearly impossible. It was as though someone had kicked her. And the pain came again, stronger and more prolonged. She pulled herself onto her knees, trying to stand very slowly so she wouldn’t pass out. Had her walk that day been strenuous enough to bring her labor? Before she could get to her feet, another pain racked her body, low and intense, radiating to her back. If this was labor, the pains were already close.

She was also very far from home.

The weather had changed. It was colder now and getting late in the day. The clouds were rolling in and she had seen this same winter sky for most of the past week. It was going to rain, and it would probably be soon.

She didn’t attempt to stand again, without something to hang on to when the pains came she might fall. Instead, she began crawling on all fours, keeping the river in sight at all times. As she moved onto her hands she saw that they were swollen and nearly red. Her feet felt tight in her sandals and the swelling was severe and painful. She moved ridiculously slow and after not many minutes, her hands were scratched and her arms and knees ached, but she hardly noticed the pain in her limbs for the incessant pressure behind her eyes.

The belly pain was still regular and sharp, but it didn’t seem to be coming any more frequently. If anything, the pains had spaced themselves just a little bit farther and more regularly. She began to sense when they would happen and she found a rhythm of breathing that helped her to cope her way through each one. Between times, she crawled and prayed for Himni to find her. She pleaded with the Lord to prompt him to look for her if he wasn’t; and if he was, then to lead him to the right place.

Abish didn’t know how much time passed this way. The wind picked up, and although she hadn’t gotten too cold yet because of her exertions, she knew it was only a matter of time. The thin scratches on her hands cracked and bled, so she tried to stand. Just as she did, another pain came, sudden and sharp. As predicted, with nothing to hang on to, she fell to the ground.

It was about this time the first drops of rain fell. Although the trees near the forest protected her somewhat from the onslaught, she was wet and cold in a matter of minutes. Her blurry vision was further impeded by the storm raging around her. She was unable to stop berating herself for her series of mistakes this day, even knowing that it was useless.

She had been wet for several minutes, but hadn’t started to shiver too violently yet when she heard her name, loud and strong above the storm. At first she thought she was only imagining it, so she paused a moment and listened. “Abish!” It was Himni.

She sucked in a huge breath and yelled his name as loudly as she could. He called again; she was unsure if he had heard her or not, but his voice too was near the river. In the darkness the storm had caused, it would be possible for them to pass each other and not even know it. She prayed for strength and waited for the next pain to pass. She pushed to her feet, knowing she had a minute or two to run before the next pain came.

Or if not run, at least she could stumble along the slippery ground. She heard him again. He was definitely closer. She paused to catch her breath near a large tree and called his name as soon as she had the breath to do it. Only the first syllable squeaked out, the rest was drowned in a clap of thunder and the beginning of her next labor pain. She gripped the tree as well as she could to stop a fall this time and slid slowly to her knees. This one was much worse, her sudden movement had progressed her labor.

“Himni!” She screamed into the darkening direction in which she had last heard him call her name.

Then he was there, emerging from the darkness, like an angel himself. “Abish!” The word ripped from his throat and he was to her side in a moment holding her tightly. She had never been so glad to see another human in her life. His voice choked with emotion, “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, the weight of her foolish choices overwhelming her, “I’m having a baby.”

His eyes grew wide, “Not here, not like this.”

She smiled wanly, “I’m afraid so.”

“Will we make it back?”

“I don’t know—I’m new at this.”

“What happened?” His concern was so evident and she tried again to smile, but another pain shot through her legs and back and she gripped his arms tightly, this time letting a small groan escape. They were definitely getting worse. The contraction passed and she explained briefly. “How long have you been out here?” He asked.

She shrugged, “Maybe two hours. It is hard to say, the storm began rolling in while I rested and it became dark early. It is difficult for me to say how long I have been trying to get back, or even how long it took for me to wander this far to begin with.” She rambled her explanation as she looked around to try and get her bearings, but it was all inky darkness and the rain was still coming hard. “How close are we to home?”

“Close.”

They slowly made their way back, and though they were close, it was nearly an hour before they reached Amulek’s house. They stopped frequently; her pains were only a minute or two apart now and seemed to be getting longer. Himni tried carrying her, but the ground was slick and his footing was bad. By the time they made it, Abish was nearly incoherent from the pain and she was freezing. Himni had covered her with his heavy coat, but she couldn’t control the shivers. The swelling in her feet and head was increasing all the time and she felt certain that something was going to explode from all the pressure. Her heart felt as thought it would beat out of her chest with each new pain and she could feel the blood pulsing wildly through her veins.

Shona’s eyes were wide with horror when she saw the state of her young guest. She stoked the fire, sent Amulek for the midwife and began warming water all within a minute. While it was customary for men to leave such things entirely to women, Abish clung to Himni, unwilling to let him go. He stroked her hair and said her name as he held her through the pains.

The terror gripped Himni’s heart and seemed to squeeze every time the waves of pain swept over his wife. When she had been more coherent she had talked of her back hurting, and he saw that rubbing and putting pressure on the small of her back, did help her to relax slightly. He had seen the tight line of Shona’s lips as he had helped Abish into clean clothing. He couldn’t tell if her lips were pursed with worry over his wife’s condition, or if she disapproved of his familiarity with his wife. It didn’t matter; he had no idea what was normal, but he was not leaving her.

He had hoped that Abish would look a little better after her clothes were changed and she began to warm up, but if anything it became more difficult to help her focus. He only knew what she had told him of birth, but it had been enough for him to believe that she needed to take a more active role than she was. Abish had often said that her hardest working mothers had the best births. It seemed instead that Abish was allowing the birth to happen to her. Her eyes grew wild with pain and terror so often that he was unsure how coherent she really was.

The midwife agreed. A short, stout, and businesslike woman she immediately assessed the situation and pronounced Abish to have a fever. She hadn’t been in the house five minutes when his wife had the first in a series of several short seizures. He remembered vaguely that Abish had once told him of such a thing occasionally happening to women. She gave them something for it, but he couldn’t remember. Some kind of herb. Or was it a mineral?

While he was trying to concentrate on what she had once told him the midwife said, “Very dangerous. Very dangerous.” She shook her head and muttered as she worked over his wife. More directly she looked at him and said accusingly, “How could this have happened?”

Before Himni could explain, another low moan escaped and he stood behind his darling, allowing the full weight of her body to lean into his. He murmured into her hair while he vaguely heard Shona tell the midwife of his wife’s day. Abish’s body finally relaxed into his after several seconds and he held her tightly.

“I thought this girl had once been a midwife. Why did she go out on such a day? Why did she?” The little woman addressed her words to Shona, spreading the blame to her as well.

Himni fought uncharacteristic impatience. “The situation is what it is. Can you help my wife to birth this baby or not?”

She turned on him, “Of course I can, young man. But you will not be welcome if you cannot keep a civil tongue in your mouth. A civil tongue.”

Himni felt immediate chagrin. She might be a tyrant, but he certainly did not want to be kicked out either. Shona’s words were soothing, “We will certainly do all we can, and the girl seems to do better with her husband.”

The midwife humpffed and murmured, “I’ve never seen anything like it. Never.” Himni pretended not to hear—at least she hadn’t made him leave.

It was a very long night. Sometime after midnight, Himni overheard the midwife ask Amulek to find a nurse. She had glanced sideways at Himni when she said it. Himni pretended not to hear. Abish had once told him about asking a husband to find a nurse in the middle of the night before a birth was complete. A midwife only made such a request if she believed the baby might come healthy, but the mother herself would not be. That had been a long night; Abish’s premonition had been correct. The mother died at dawn and the healthy baby was adopted into a new family that could care for him by noon.

He rubbed harder against her back and fought the tears that threatened to spill. Not long after Amulek’s departure, Abish came to herself for several minutes. The midwife had given her some mild herbs and her fever had abated, but nothing had been done for the seizures. She leaned against him, exhausted and whispered, “Himni?”

He was startled to hear his name. He had wondered if she was aware that he was there. “Yes?”

“I’m glad you’re here. Don’t leave; no matter what.”

“I won’t; I promise.”

She touched his face, “Dear man, I can always count on you.”

Just then her face lost color and her fingernails dug into his arms. He looked at her in the eye and willed her to stay with him as he spoke to her and told her to breathe in and out. After several seconds he said, “There, all done for now.”

She slumped against him again, “This is not normal.”

“Shh . . . everything is fine.”

“Himni, please listen, it is hard for me to concentrate.” He was silent and she continued, “My pains have been too close together for too long. My body should have made more progress. If it can’t progress then it will shut down. And with these headaches and the swelling. . . have I had a seizure yet?”

Himni nodded, wanting to argue with her negative prognosis, but she was certainly the expert in this field. She continued, “In my bag, I took some of my most precious medicines with me. There is small leather pouch with gray powder in it. Mix it with some hot water until it dissolves and make me take it. But it may be too late for me if there have been multiple seizures.”

There had been four, and so he had to interrupt before she said the words that he could not bear to hear, “Abish don’t.”

She growled, “Listen. This baby has to survive. Whatever else happens to me. This baby is the thing. He is our future. I think he will; I feel him struggle inside of me. If I die, you must do whatever it takes to keep him close to you.”

“Stop talking this way.” Himni was angry as he gripped her arms, “Didn’t Ammon promise us children and posterity? There is more life for us. You stay with me.”

Abish thought her heart would break, “I will try, my darling, I will try. Armac is to be his name.”

“Then you will name him when he lies in your arms in just a few short hours.”

She opened her mouth to reply, but a new wave of pain swept over her and Himni held her. The next several came in such close succession that she had little time between, and there was not time to speak. After the series, she began to drift from him again with her vacant, un-focusing eyes, and into the place where he couldn’t touch or find her.

The powder he made for her did stop the seizures, although the other strange symptoms she had spoken of did not abate. In all the years of his life he would never forget the way she went limp in his arms time after time after her body would try to push the baby out. He kept pressing his head to her chest to hear the heartbeat that would tell him that she was still there. And every time, he could hear it pounding so hard that it was if she had just run a footrace. The promised boy was finally born near dawn—small, but surprisingly healthy. Abish on the other hand, had not fared well. Her skin was waxy and pale, nearly as white as Himni’s own. Her eyes were wild and unseeing, and then the blood loss began.

Through a fog of pain and blurry images Abish screamed as she felt her body being wrenched in two. There was a momentary respite and then she spun down a dark corridor as the rest of her insides felt like they were spilling out through the opening wrought by the baby.

After her insides came all of her fluids.

The world spun until Abish felt she would be sick, but there was nothing left to throw up.

Spinning in a sea of pain and despair, everything went dark.

There was no pain, no sorrow, no worry, just an empty blackness devoid of any feeling.

Suddenly she was surrounded by glorious whiteness instead of the dark and in the absence of feeling there was only remarkable joy and completeness. She walked toward the source of the light with easy, buoyant strides. She could see no others in the lightness, but she did not feel alone. She felt surrounded by other beings like herself full of love and light, heading toward the source of the illumination.

“Abish, come back to us.” A gentle voice chided from the darkness she had left behind. She listened. The voice was vaguely familiar, but she could not give a name to the speaker. “Abish,” the gentle admonition came again, “Your work is not yet done.”

She paused, feeling the surging mass of spiritual energy move forward without her, but not yet willing to turn back either. How did she know that voice? Oh that I were an angel . . .

And then another voice spoke, this one coming from above her, the source of the Light. “My prophet is right, dear daughter; I will one day gladly take you home to my heart, but today is not that day. There is work to be done yet.”

Two voices saying the same thing should have made it easy, but still she stood between the glorious light and the black abyss, unable to decide which direction to go.

Once more the gentle chiding and the touch on her shoulder that sent such a thrill of joy through her that she longed to be embraced, “I love you. More than you have yet understood, but today is not that day. Go back to your family, Abish.” She looked to the Lord of Heaven as he spoke her name, but before she could ask him why He would not let her stay, the light around her was suddenly and terribly quenched and there was only darkness.

The pain engulfed her as her tired body collapsed into strong hands.

She knew not how long she spent in the darkness. As miserable as it was, every time she felt as though she really re-entered herself there was pain that was indescribable. If she stayed in the dark place then it was easier.

She heard a voice in the darkness at her side. She knew this voice as well as her own, “My Love, did Alma call you back to us only to have you never return to yourself?” The thought of Himni mourning for her nearly broke her heart. The emotional pain in her chest was surprising, she hadn’t thought to ever feel anything touch her heart this way again. And although the feeling was not one of happiness, it was a feeling. Somewhere, underneath the apathy, she found the courage and the love to return to her life.
Her first sensation was of brief and terrible pain, but then she blinked, and saw Himni’s bowed head near her own. In that moment, she decided the pain could be borne and her body healed if only she could bring some light back to his eyes.

“Himni.” She whispered through thick lips.

His head immediately shot up and he looked at her. “Abish. Are you back?” His words came with all the feeling as if they had been separated by months and distance instead of in the same room. His eyes desperately sought her face, hoping for real recognition.

She smiled wanly, all she could muster. “Thirsty.” She squeaked next.

Himni ran for the water bucket so fast that it slopped all over him. She drained dipperful after dipperful. Finally, she trusted herself to speak in some kind of normal voice, “Is there a baby?”

“A beautiful baby boy.”

“Healthy?”

“Tiny, but growing. We have found a nurse for him.”

“I would like to see him.”

“Of course.” Himni smiled and embraced her gently. “Of course.”

Chapter 27--Swallowed Up In The Joy of God

2009-06-09T06:55:00.000-07:00

The night before departure Abish dreamed of a forest. She had seen this forest long ago—it was the same place where her father taught her the gospel so many years before. Her last dream of it had been punctuated by blood and fear. This night there was only peace. She was hunting for Himni, but she was not afraid. She knew he was near and would find him soon. She woke from her dream as dawn streamed through her window. She lay in bed for a moment, feeling peace wash over her.

The feeling only lasted a moment before she quickly moved to the pot near her bed. The familiar wave of nausea engulfed her and she threw up what little there was in her stomach. It was common for women to be sick when they were with child, but her sickness was the worst she’d ever seen. She was always sick, and could not gain weight. She counted it a small victory if she kept food down for more than a couple of hours. She knew that having a baby of her own would make her a much more empathetic midwife, and she couldn’t help but laugh to herself at how hollow many of her soothing words must have sounded to her mothers over the years.

Their few belongings were packed. She would load them on the llama as soon as she suffered through some breakfast and head to the palace. By midday, the vanguard group would begin its journey north. If all went well, she would see her husband again in just a few weeks. Maybe the sickness would be past then and she could greet him with cheerfulness and excitement over the coming child he knew nothing about. There were other changes in their family too—Aaron and Zaria were quietly making plans to be married. Ammon’s daughter was only days old and Abish did not relish the idea of Selah or the baby traveling, but there was nothing to be done. The baby had come early, and she was small, but Selah’s delivery had been remarkably easy for a first- time mother, and she was recovering quickly. While the situation was not ideal, Abish was grateful the baby had not come while they were in flight. There would be plenty of those: maybe even her own.

Until now, she had kept word of her pregnancy a secret; she wanted Himni to know first. It wasn’t hard to keep secret. She had lost so much weight that she wouldn’t show for many more weeks. She knew that Zaria suspected, but Abish had excused her poor health by saying that she was worried. She knew this was untruthful; for all the stress in lives of the Ammonites at this time, the Spirit spoke peace to her heart. Just as in her dream, they were seeking something important and would yet wander, but the Lord was watching out for them.

Abish began loading their few packs when her sickness came again. She rushed in the house, pushed her matted hair away from her face, and leaned over the pot she had come to hate. Her retching made her sweat even more profusely in the already hot morning. The height of the warmest season was still to come. She trembled with weakness as she finished, trying to banish the premonition that travel would be misery.

She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the wall which still held some of the night’s coolness, praying once again that the sickness would pass long enough for her to do the next task at hand. This prayer had often worked in recent weeks as she delivered babies. It would have to work again today. Suddenly she sensed someone in the door of her house. She turned quickly to see Aaron and Ammon standing there. “Brothers! What are you doing here?” She forced a smile, wondering how long they had been there and hoping she didn’t look as rotten as she felt.

Aaron spoke, “We have come to help you pack, sister.”

She shrugged, swallowing the acrid taste in her mouth and trying to appear pleasant. “There is very little to be done; I am sure there are others in need of more help than I am.”

Ammon joined in. “Zaria and Selah are being taken care of. We came to help you first, before the others.” She began to protest, but he interrupted, “I made a promise to my brother that Aaron and I would look after you. Since you have no father or husband to help you, and your own brother is busy with his family, we will have to do.”

Aaron stepped forward, the concern in his face heavy, “Besides, you are unwell.” Abish felt the flush cover her already hot face. He continued, “You have been unwell for some time now. Your friends and family are worried. Let us help you.”

“I am not sick. Not really.” She could see their dubious looks, and had to admit she was grateful to see them. “But I will gladly take your help today.”

They both smiled and for a moment she was so reminded of Himni that she wanted to cry. Aaron said, “Before we load up; Ammon and I will give you a blessing.”

Again, she nearly protested, but then her heart told her to think better of it. She did need some extra comfort and strength. How many times had she recently thought she would have given almost anything to have Himni lay hands on her head? Here was the next best thing, and they had come to her knowing what she needed. She nodded slowly, not quite trusting her voice to sound steady if she spoke.

Ammon acted as voice, and her heart thrilled with the joy of the Spirit. He pronounced a blessing of healing and strength on her and then there was a long pause. “And now, dear sister, the Lord wishes to say some other things to you.” There was another pause and his voice held some emotion when he continued, “He wishes you to know he is pleased with your marriage. The baby growing inside of you will be born healthy and strong, although the circumstances under which he comes will try you to the very limits of your strength. The Lord will give you this blessing as a reward for the many lives you have ushered into this mortal existence. The son you deliver will be the first of many children, and you will be a true mother in Israel.

“This child will be yours for less time than you would choose, but he will go on the Lord’s errand along with many of those you have delivered in recent months. They will defend the faith of their fathers and the integrity of Lamoni’s covenant. Look to the Lord always as you raise this little man so he can be given with full heart to your Father in Heaven when the time comes.

“The Lord blesses you with a righteous posterity that will span generations. One of your descendents will walk side by side with the Savior here on this earth as an apostle to the most high God.

“Your name will be known for righteousness for many years hence among this people and then again, generations from now, in the great days before the Lord’s second coming when the earth will be cleansed by fire.

“You will have many years of life yet with your husband in the Nephite lands where you will be leaders among this people, both in their temporal and their spiritual lives. Remember that your illness now is a small moment and that faithful endurance for every trial yet to come in your life will bring you everlasting life and all other blessings promised this day.

“I seal this blessing upon you in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”

Ammon took a step back and Abish slowly opened her eyes wide and stared at Ammon. The peace she had felt during her dream was back and infused every part of her. She knew the tears streamed down her face, but she made no move to rid herself of them. The simple blessing of healing had somehow turned into a prophetic roadmap for her life, for her posterity.

She smiled through her tears after a moment or two of silence, “I suppose Zaria guessed about the baby.”

Ammon shook his head, “If she has, she has told me nothing of it. I only found out minutes ago, when the Spirit began whispering such promptings to me.”

Aaron said, “Congratulations, sister.”

Abish smiled, “Thank you. I suppose it is silly not to say anything . . . I had hoped Himni would know first.”

“We will tell no one else.” Ammon said with uncharacteristic restraint.

“I think it is time to tell. I think I have waited because I have been worried; and I have been very sick. I think I am not worried anymore.”

Aaron smiled, “And hopefully you will not continue to be sick, either.”

Abish laughed, “Eve was told that in sorrow she would bring forth children, but if the Lord sees fit to take the sickness from me, I wouldn’t argue!”

The silence returned, and although there was much to do, none of them wanted to erase the mood that had been created that morning with such practical matters. Still, leaving that day was imperative and Aaron quietly began hefting parcels to carry into the yard. Ammon and Abish both allowed a ghost of a sigh to escape at nearly the same time. The animal was loaded in a manner of minutes and Abish embraced each of her brothers, feeling an overwhelming surge of gratitude for each blessing she had been given.

Himni paced in Antiomno’s palace. It had been many weeks since Ammon’s departure, and they looked for the arrival of those from the land of Ishmael any day. Once Ishmael had traveled through, Omner’s group from Midian would bring up the rear. That was the plan, anyway, unless danger was imminent. Then each brother was supposed to use his discretion to lead the people out of the land whether the others had come or not. Himni was certain more would join them as they traveled east before going north. He hoped they had planned for enough. The responsibilities of recent weeks had nearly overwhelmed him. More than once he had wished for Omner’s organization, Aaron’s leadership, or Ammon’s ability to make people listen. But he had none of these gifts, and he had spent many hours on his knees, trying to learn the Lord’s will.

Now all had been in readiness for a week. Rumors had come in early today of some Lamanite movement from Jerusalem. The king had quickly dispatched some men to determine the veracity of the stories. If they were true then the city would have to be abandoned in the next few days. Even if the Ishmaelites arrived tomorrow, there would be no time to rest before moving on; no time to spend with Abish before he was expected to lead again. He fought the murmuring spirit he felt in his heart. In all these years, the Lord’s work had never been a burden. Now his heart was torn. He longed to be settled on a farm with his wife and the children he hoped they would have. He wanted his family to come first, even before the church. Not before the Lord certainly, but he had begun to feel that cultivating his relationship with Abish was the most important thing he would ever do.

There was a knock at the door. Himni strode quickly to it, hoping for a diversion from his moody thoughts. “Yes?”

One of the king’s servants said, “My lord, there is news.”

“From the border?” Himni was surprised. The messengers had only gone after breakfast. They may have to leave even sooner than expected.

But the messenger shook his head, “No, sir, from your brother.”

“Ammon?” He felt his pulse quicken.

“Yes. They are but one day out. Someone was sent to report.”

“Excellent. Thank you so much for your news.”

He bowed low. Lower than Himni was comfortable with. He felt silly that he didn’t know the man’s name. He stretched his hand out and touched him on the shoulder. “You needn’t bow, we will soon live in a land where all men are given equal status.”

The man smiled and said, “I know, sir, but this people will never stop holding in reverence those Nephites who came to deliver us from a fate worse than death.”

“Give God the praise.” Himni’s response was almost automatic to the reverence he and his brothers were too often given.

“Indeed I do, every day, but when I get a chance to be in the presence of one of his messengers I am not unaware of the privilege.”

“What is your name, son?”

“Zenon.”

“Well, Zenon, when we are in the Land of Jershon, drop by my home one day and you will see how a messenger of God sows his field with his own hands.”

Zenon grinned as he bowed again and scooted off down the hall. Himni leaned against the door jamb, unable to fight the flips his heart was doing. He couldn’t wait any longer; there was only one road they could be on. He would find them tonight.

Abish was exhausted. Although the worst of her nausea had passed after Ammon’s blessing, the tiredness she felt deep into her bones was a daily part of her life. In addition, all of the travel had brought on early labors the last two nights. One of the mothers responded well to herbs and did not deliver. It was good; she was many weeks too early and infant would surely have died. The other, however, would not be stopped. The baby boy she delivered was pitifully small and wasn’t eating well. She had put on her best face as she went to visit the mother just two hours ago, but unless he turned around quickly he would not survive the week. Abish fought the sadness, reminding herself that in just a day or two she would see her husband, and in just a few more weeks this exodus would all be a fuzzy memory.

Before dark she went to gather more herbs. Other pregnant mothers would be able to use them for the pain of their long journey and to help their bodies rest so the babies would not come early. Although it had been many years since she had lived in Middoni, the forest was still vaguely familiar. She had collected herbs many times in woods very near here. Ammon and Aaron would have a fit if they saw her on her own in the forest, but she had slipped away unnoticed anyway. She vowed silently to be back before supper, which she usually shared with Zaria and Selah, their husbands, and her brother’s family—and whoever else might join them. She smiled lightly to herself. It seemed that someone was always in need of a blessing, or an audience with the queen, or a visit with the midwife. And, more often than not, these visits took place right when the food came off the fire.

She hummed lightly to herself as she gathered herbs, grateful for the focus and concentration her task gave. She noted that it was getting late in the day and hurried. Some of the herbs she had collected would make excellent flavoring for the stew that was cooking. Since her appetite had begun to come back, she noticed that different flavors of food appealed to her on different days: a thing she had always teased her mothers about. One by one her stereotypes had been defeated and she chuckled lightly as she bent over.

“And what is so funny?” The loud, familiar, male voice behind her was startling and she jumped. She whirled, expecting to see one of her brothers-in-law. Instead, Himni stood in the clearing, the light fading just behind him. She yelped for joy and ran to him, hardly noticing that she dropped her basket in the process. She embraced him wildly and he held her so tightly she thought she would burst.

“You came to meet us.” She was nearly breathless with excitement.

“All is in readiness in Middoni and I couldn’t sleep another night alone.” She thought her heart would burst from happiness, and she hugged him again. “You are thin.” He held her away slightly, his concern evident.

She nodded, but smiled, “I am. But I am doing much better now and I think I have even gained back some of my weight.”

“You have been ill?”

She smiled even brighter, relishing the moment after so many months apart, “We are going to have a baby.”

The smile returned and he laughed. He picked her up and turned her around in his arms. He stopped almost immediately and set her very gingerly down. “I need to be careful.”

It was her turn to laugh. “I’m still myself, and such a thing cannot hurt our child.”

“I think those are the most wonderful words I’ve ever heard.” He kissed her and they both began to talk almost immediately, releasing all the bottled conversation from the previous weeks. He helped her collect the things for her basket and walked arm and arm with her back toward the camp. As at other times, Abish hesitated joining the group just slightly. She knew that Himni and his brothers would be anxious to report on their activities, but she loved these quiet moments with her husband.

“When we share these peaceful moments together, I sometimes forget that you belong to all of them too.” She smiled a little ruefully at her admission.

He pulled her close and tipped his head to hers. “But I am yours first. I know that over the years I will have many duties that pull me away from our family. Please know I will feel it keenly every time.”

Bittersweet tears smarted in her eyes, and the voice in her heart reminded her once again to cherish the moments they had and not grudge the ones they didn’t. She nodded slowly, “I knew what you were when I married you, Himni. I don’t think I could love you as much if you were any less of a man.”

“Then let’s go face our responsibilities together.”

The entire group set out together within days of Aaron and Zaria’s hasty wedding. Abish was grateful to see that her friend looked genuinely happy, though not in the same way that younger, less experienced, brides did. The joy among the people was palpable and even Lamoni’s family seemed at peace with Zaria’s choice.

Abish had to admit, however, that meeting up with Himni again and the wedding just two days later had been the high point. Instead of going straight north into the heart of the Nephite holdings, they had made a wide arc to the east along the edge of the wilderness. They turned north just above Helam. It had been shockingly hot and Abish knew she was still not gaining weight as she should be. Everything in her midwife’s instincts told her that her pregnancy was less than normal, but she clung to the promise of Ammon’s blessing and trusted that somehow she would be able to deliver a healthy baby boy when the time was right.

Coupled with the relentless travel and heat was the fact that she would sometimes go for days without seeing Himni. She fought her frustration over this circumstance. Hadn’t she told him just a couple of weeks before that she couldn’t love him as much if he were any less of a man? Still, it seemed he often volunteered to oversee groups who were struggling with leadership or faith. She saw Aaron and Ammon more often than her own husband. Why should Zaria and Selah have so much attention? They were, after all, traveling in a large group with much additional help—more than most had. Zaria was not with child, and Selah’s daughter, though still small, was healthy and gaining strength.

They had just made it through the northern wilderness and into the beginning of Nephite lands when she finally snapped with the tension. She hadn’t seen Himni in nearly four days and had no idea where he was. A messenger came to tell her he had returned, but had immediately gone into council with his brothers and the kings. Abish was furious. The heat had been especially unbearable that day, and the sickness had lately come back with a vengeance. When the messenger found her, she had just come back from wandering as far from camp as she could to be sick. She was thirsty and feverish. She did not have the energy to fetch water or to seek her husband. She lay down instead.

Her dreams were wild and disjointed. She wandered through a dense, dark forest, seeking out green and brown pools only to find shallow pits of mud that stuck to her feet and mired her movement. The mud was hot, and she tried to drink from these pools. She woke up choking and coughing. It was dark, but still hot. Himni stirred near her in the darkness and was immediately at her side. She squeaked a single word, “Water.”

“There is none, Love, you have let the bucket run dry.”

Something in her burst and she began to cry, great racking sobs pushing their way past the dry lump in her throat. It was like sticking her head in the sand and trying to scream. When she could speak she croaked, “Of course it has run dry; I have been so sick and weak today I could barely make it into camp tonight and there is no one to help me.”

She read the guilty look on his face in a moment, an expression she had never seen in their months together. For a brief moment she felt glad she had hurt him, gratified he knew how much of her suffering he had been unable to alleviate. He jumped up immediately with the bucket in their small shelter. She lay back against her mat willing herself to stop crying, to hold on to all the moisture she could, but the tears were beyond her control as every bitter thought of the past weeks flooded through her brain. She fought impatience at his long absence; she hadn’t had the strength to vie for a spot near fresh water that night and knew that she was far from the stream.

Despite the fever and the ache in her throat and chest, she was nearly asleep again when he returned. She swallowed greedily, feeling some of the energy flow back into her. Himni watched her with wide eyes; she knew that she must seem like a stranger to him for her behavior, but she was tired of pretending to have superhuman strength of body and spirit. When he saw that she had finally drunk her fill, he said quietly, “I had no idea.”

She nodded miserably, “I know.”

“The messenger I sent told me that he spoke with you.”

“He did.”

“You should have sent word with him that you weren’t well.”

The tears burned her eyelids again, but it seemed that, at least for now, no more were going to fall. “I haven’t been well, Darling. For some time. Today was just the low point in many weeks. Besides, I knew that if you had gone immediately to a meeting with your brothers then there must be important things to discuss.”

“I have been away many days. I should have seen you first.” He hung his head, avoiding her eyes.

“Yes. You should have.” Abish could not help but say it. “I know there will be times you must be away—even long periods of time. It doesn’t mean that it is easy.”

“The Lord will help you, Abish. You must pray for strength.”

Abish took another dipper of water to try and swallow away her impatience. “The Lord has helped me. And every day, 100 times a day, I pray for strength to go another fifty steps. I will count to fifty and then pray again to make it another fifty. And every time I pray I thank God that I haven’t collapsed so that I would become a burden to someone else. I don’t know for how many more days I can do this. Not alone.”

Himni looked at her for the first time in minutes and reached his hand out to her. His words were not accusatory, but pleading, “And what I am to do? I cannot be in all the places I am needed at the same time. There are assignments I have that help hold these people together. Surely you must understand this.”

“They are not just your assignments, Himni. I see your brothers nearly every day. They are with their wives—their children. I know that Aaron is newly married and that Ammon has a new child, but their wives are healthy and strong, with armies of servants to fetch and carry water and work for them. Aaron has spent nearly as much time with Zaria in the weeks since their marriage as you and I have in all the months we have been married. These responsibilities are not just yours to carry.”

Himni’s eyes filled with tears, “I know. I keep volunteering thinking that my wife is more understanding than theirs are.”

Abish sighed, “I am understanding. I just wish your brothers would see the importance of finding out if their wives can be understanding too.”

He nodded. “Then you will not like our latest discussion.”

Abish felt her heart sink down to her feet; she hadn’t thought she could feel any worse, but suddenly she did. “Oh no.”

“Ammon would like to head north with a very small group, toward the land of Zarahemla, to see if we can plead the case of these people to the government. Letters were written to Alma, but no replies received; we are unsure the Nephites know we are coming. And Aaron fears our reception if we march this group with their dark skin right into the center of the Nephite holdings.”

“So you and your brothers will go.”

Himni nodded, “You will be alone, but you will have time to rest. The camp has enough provisions to last here for several more weeks. We will gain entry to the land of Jershon and be back to escort the group north. You will be well taken care of here.”

“By whom?” Himni paused, unable to answer. “Since I was 10 years old I have been taking care of myself. But right now I can’t. I need my husband.” She knew that she sounded desperate and the tears were in danger of spilling again. She looked deep into his changeable eyes, pleading with him to see a side of her he had never known.

He pulled her close and kissed the top of her head, “We will work it out, Darling. I won’t leave you again, not for so long. Not before the baby comes.” The tension left her body almost immediately into his warm embrace and she practically collapsed into him. He stroked her hair and whispered to her of his love. She felt the baby leap inside of her as he often did late at night. She moved Himni’s hand to the slight swell in her abdomen and shushed his talking. He was still for a moment and then something moved under his hand; he looked at her in wonder and she smiled tiredly. He repeated his pledge, “I will not leave you again, girl. We will find a way.”

She woke the next morning to much noise. She knew the camp was bustling around her, probably ready to leave for the day. She was alone, and her head ached with thirst and the memory of all the tears shed last night. Despite his valiant promises, he was gone and there was nothing to be done besides take down her tent and drag herself through another day’s march.

She rolled wearily onto one arm and up into a kneeling position. She said her morning prayers, trying to concentrate through the exhaustion so that she wasn’t just repeating words. Lately her prayers had been a never-ending mantra, “Dear Father, please help me through one more day.”

Her tears stung, but didn’t come. She was grateful. She considered herself to be more practical than weepy and it was unlike her to be so emotional. She needed to get a hold on things. It would probably get worse before it became better. She opened her eyes and pushed against the ground to stand, still unused to her new center of balance.

She stepped into the bright, hot morning and blinked back the sunlight. The noise she had heard was just the typical noise of the camp. None of the tents had been taken down. Perhaps they would stay here, as Himni had said. Before he left he could help her move her small tent nearer to Zaria’s; at least they would be together while their husbands were gone. And, despite her angry words from the night before, she knew that Zaria would help to look after her.

These thoughts had barely left her head when she saw Himni making his way toward her. She could read the concern in his nearly blue eyes, but she could also tell that he had news to tell her. He put his arm around the small of her back, supporting her. He said, “I was hoping to be back before you were up for the day. Are you well?”

His concern and attentiveness was so touching that it pricked her conscience for her first thoughts of the morning. She forced a smile despite the headache already growing behind her eyes, “I did sleep well last night.”

“At least half the night.” He said gently.

She nodded, agreeing, but still smiled. “Better than none.”

“Have you had something to eat?”

She shook her head and he handed her some corn cakes. “Let’s get out of the sun.”

Abish readily agreed and they went inside. The tent wasn’t much cooler, but the noise was muted and the glare was gone. She took another dipper of tepid water. When he saw that she was settled, he said, “I have an idea.”

“I’m listening.”

“Before you just say no; it is important to realize that there are not a lot of good options right now.”

She smiled, trying to mitigate his nervousness and repeated, “I’m listening.”

He smiled too and much of the tension from the last twelve hours melted away. “Omner and I talked early this morning, and his wife doesn’t want to stay behind either. He had been reluctant to say anything about bringing her along because of their two little ones; he knows his family will only slow our pace. I know Ammon and Aaron want to make the journey as quickly as possible. But I agreed with him. I even suggested that we approach our brothers about all of us bringing our families.”

“Are there safety concerns?”

He nodded. “Maybe. In our last letters from Alma, he spoke of Lamanites attacking some of the border cities.”

“The reports that started all of this.”

“Exactly. Still, I think the group here is far enough east to be away from any direct attack because the city that was hit the worst is far north and nearly all the way to the western sea. My brothers and I will head west and north, but we will strike Nephite cities long before we get to the lands where the fighting has been.”

“Where do you think I am the safest?”

He hesitated a moment. “I am torn between saying here with your people, or on the road with your husband.”

“Most of these men have sworn the oath. We have many bows for hunting, but there are very few swords among us.”

“It is true.”

“The sooner we get to Jershon the better.”

“Obviously.”

“So the sooner you and your brothers get to your friends the better.” The cold logic pointed to him leaving her again. But for how long?

He nodded over her last comment; he couldn’t lie to her, but after just a pause he said, “But despite that, I do not want to leave you here.”

She smiled ruefully. “And I do not really want to stay. Has the Lord spoken on this matter?”

“I haven’t thought through much of it on my own yet, but I have felt little prompting one way or the other.” Abish sighed, wondering if she could even receive inspiration for such a decision. Her desire to be with her him outweighed every rational impulse. “Omner and I feel that if our brothers agree then we will bring our families.”

Abish nodded, “I will go if I may.”

In the end it took some convincing, and Ammon was unhappy about it. He fought his impatience the morning they left as his eight month old nephew wailed about being awakened to be put into a pack on his mother’s back. The four year old was excited, but no doubt that would last about half an hour and then he would need to ride one of their already overburdened pack animals. He had prayed about the decision to allow them to come, but unlike Himni and Omner he felt no confidence about getting any answer. Once he had agreed to allow them to bring their wives, Shem and Muloki had jumped on board as well. They were now more like a group of settlers than a swift party of messengers.

While Ammon was unhappy about the decision, Aaron was practically furious. Ammon couldn’t help but wonder if some of he and his next brother’s feelings stemmed from the fact that their own wives seemed so perfectly content to stay. While this was obviously for the best, Selah and Zaria hardly seemed to miss a beat over their departure. He dismissed the thought rapidly, but it would creep up now and then during their journey; particularly when he saw Himni’s attentiveness to Abish and how sweetly she responded to him. He loved his wife and knew their relationship was growing all the time, but he could never decide if Abish and Himni acted more like young newlyweds or old married people who were as comfortable with one another as a favorite pair of sandals. Even Omner seemed to share this same kind of formula with Tisha.

Besides, Ammon had hoped to have this last time with just his brothers and the few mission companions that they had begun with so many years before. It would have been a fitting ending to their service. But things had changed, as they always did. He knew that in every way the changes were for the long-term best. He was not a young man anymore, but he sometimes remembered with fondness the wide-eyed faith with which he had embarked on his mission. Twelve years was a long time.

As they neared the Nephite cities, his anxiety grew. He could sense this in his brothers as well. What would they find? It had been over a year since Ammon had last heard from Alma and written his reply. For all their talk about equality with their Lamanite brethren, they truly knew nothing of the system of government used in this land now. While they had been raised with work, they had still been raised to be kings. And, while Ammon would never admit it when he was younger, there was a degree of privilege that went with such status.

In his anxiety, he had stopped sleeping almost completely and food tasted like straw in his mouth. One night in the quiet by the fire, Himni said to him very quietly, “You are unwell, brother.”

“I know. It will be better when we make it to Zarahemla. We will travel around the city of Aaron in the next few days and follow the Sidon River northward. It will be better then.” He repeated the words as much to reassure himself as his brother.

“We may see someone we know.” Ammon nodded. The same possibility had occurred to him. “Besides,” Himni continued, “the Lord will watch out for His people. He asked them to come.”

“Or did I?”

“What?”

“Did the Lord ask them to come, or did I ask them?”

Himni looked thoughtful and was silent for a few minutes. “You are the one who was foreordained to find these people. You are their spiritual leader. Whether the Lord asked them directly, or through you, it is the same. They have testimonies of the true Messiah, who will come to redeem them; they know that you are his mouthpiece. I know that you are His mouthpiece.”

Despite his never-ending exhaustion, the knot in his stomach eased slightly and he smiled. “Thank you for your faith.”

“Thank you for bringing me on this journey with you.”

There was quiet again, Himni stirred. No doubt he wanted to be with his wife. “How is Abish?” Ammon said.

His brow immediately furrowed. “I am worried. And even with all her birth experience, she is worried. Our exodus could not have come at a worse time.”

“Do you think she should have stayed behind?”
”I would rather know how she is doing and help her through it than wonder each day if she was taken care of.”

“The Lord told me that the circumstances this baby came to the world under would be less than ideal.”

“Yes. She said as much. She clings to the blessings you promised her to get through each day’s difficulties.”

“Maybe that is a lesson of hope for all of us in our trials.”

Abish was grateful for the abundance of daily, fresh water that was available during this latest part of their journey. Several Nephite towns were clustered together and hardly an hour went by when they didn’t pass people on the busy road that followed the river. Every person who passed them shot a few covert glances at the brown skin of all the women in their party, and the strange dress of the white men. Nobody recognized her husband or his brethren.

The weather, mercifully, was getting cooler and, except for the hottest part of the afternoon, finding shade was not difficult. They had just passed the city of Melek when a small miracle happened. A small group approached them. Abish knew nothing of Nephite customs, but she knew that something about the group was important. Their clothing was different somehow. Not necessarily richer, but maybe more ceremonial. Her entire party had slowed just slightly and Abish immediately sensed the tension in the air. She was not the only one who was watchful. Perhaps, like her, the men had sensed the importance of this group and were hoping to find someone they knew, or could connect with.

Ammon saw him first, “Alma?”

The tall man in the center of the group that was now nearly parallel to them turned his head slightly as Ammon pushed his way past Aaron to the front. The man who answered to “Alma” stepped through his men as well and stood just feet from Ammon. The recognition only took seconds. Even Abish had to admit, you never forgot Ammon’s eyes once they had bored into your soul.

Both of them began talking almost immediately and Abish heard Alma exclaim that he knew he had come this way for a reason. After just moments of talking over one another, the two friends embraced, and then Ammon collapsed.

His brothers were at his side in a moment. Himni had told Abish that he didn’t think Ammon was well, and perhaps he had been right. He was revived in a matter of seconds and joked that it was joy that had knocked him senseless for a few minutes, but Abish read the concern on her husband’s face. Aaron laughed, “Well I’m happy too, Ammon, but my joy is not greater than my strength!”

Alma patted Aaron heartily on the back, “Ammon’s joy is always the strongest emotion in the room,” and grinned broadly as he said it.

Alma, in turn, met each of them and there was much happiness all around. For all that she knew of their friend, she suddenly found herself shy when she was introduced as Himni’s wife. Tears flooded her eyes when he looked at her very tenderly and said, “No doubt this has been a hard journey for you, dear sister.”

His greeting flooded her heart with warmth, “But worth it to meet the Lord’s prophet.”

“I am a man, Abish. And my faith is subject to trial and testing just like anybody’s.”

Somehow she doubted that his faith after his conversion had ever faltered as much as hers, but he was so gracious and friendly that she couldn’t help smiling, despite her raised eyebrows. She said lightly, “If only we could all be angels and spend our days preaching the gospel instead of worrying about the concerns of the flesh.”

His face broke out into smile. “I like that! Oh indeed that I were an angel!” He laughed out loud and reached out for her hands. “But if I am not, then I will be content to shake hands with one from time to time.”

Abish felt the warmth fill her face and laughed too. No wonder Himni and his brothers had such fond feelings for their friend. No wonder men had always followed him. And she would follow him too. For years she had longed to meet the man her husband called prophet. The Spirit whispered of rest and peace and new beginnings to her heart and her baby leaped for joy in her womb.

Chapter 26: Get This People Out

2009-06-02T21:29:00.000-07:00

“Come Selah, the men must have a proper send off,” Zaria prodded her step-daughter, but it was to no avail.

Selah sobbed as the queen rubbed her hand across her daughter’s back. Abish fought the need to shift her weight impatiently. She and Himni had come to the palace that morning to take their leave of Aaron before their journey to Middoni. It had only been three days since they’d made the decision to go, and although she and Himni had vowed to spend all the time they could together, there had not been much.

Selah had not taken the news well. Abish hoped she had not behaved this way for the past three days; no wonder Ammon was in such haste to go. She decided she should try to say something that would help. “Have you told him about the baby?”

Selah looked up into Abish’s face. “He guessed!” She said almost accusingly.

“That is not a bad thing, dear; I am sure he was very happy.”

“It is just so embarrassing.”

Now Abish was puzzled. She exchanged glances with Zaria across Selah’s back while the girl buried her head again. Zaria prodded, “Embarrassing?”

“Now everyone will know that we . . .” She sobbed again and broke off. Abish tried not to laugh right out loud as she saw the flush deepen across the girl’s face.

Zaria, more composed, replied, “Daughter, this is the natural way of men and women. Nobody will laugh or joke. The people love Ammon, and the people love you. Your baby will only bring joy to you and your husband—to everyone.”

She shook her head and sniffed, “Ammon is very happy about the baby. He says I should have told him, and both of you, sooner.”

Abish kissed her forehead, “I know in plenty of time; although I could have given you some things that would have better helped you through your sick time.”

“Really?”

Abish nodded and continued, “You must focus on what is happening between you and Ammon. Think of the coming of this baby who will have your beauty and Ammon’s zest for life. Do not worry about the rest.”

The queen added, “And count your blessings that your baby will have a father.”

Selah’s tears began flowing afresh at this comment, but they were quieter. “Indeed I am blessed to have such a father for my baby.”

“Come,” Abish took her hand, “Let us go and wish our husbands Godspeed on their important journey.”

She nodded slowly and stood. Abish smiled. The queen stood with them. The three walked arm in arm out into the garden. It was a glorious morning and Abish choked back her own tears to send her husband off with a smile. She prayed that Selah would hold herself together. They had better get used to it; this-send off would likely be the first of many when married to such men.

The memory of Selah’s sweet kiss stayed with Ammon a long time. She had reacted so strongly when he asked her about the baby just two days previous. Today, however, she had been like a completely different person. Mature. Beautiful. Valiant. Their courtship had been quick and wonderful, but she was very young. In the months since, he had almost given up hope that Selah would actually become the wife he had hoped he married. This premonition had become especially dark when he saw how completely happy his youngest brother had been over the last several weeks.

As he saw the way his young wife sent him off—waving one hand and gripping Abish’s tightly with the other—he couldn’t help but think that somehow Abish had worked her magic on Selah. Such a friendship would be valuable to his wife. He hoped that this time apart would somehow be good for them, and that she would learn to depend on the wonderful women in her life. Ammon would often be gone; he needed to know that he could be confident about leaving her behind sometimes.

He glanced sideways at his brother, noting again the joy that filled his face. Himni caught the glance, “We will be home soon, brother. You will be back to help your wife when her time comes.”

“Maybe with the news we are fleeing many weeks journey into the north.”

Himni’s smile was suddenly replaced with a more somber look. “Indeed. But Abish will care for her along the way. All will be well.”

Ammon nodded, since he had just been thinking something similar. Abish and Zaria could hold the women together. All of them.

Many weeks passed before the return journey. King Anti-Nephi-Lehi walked with Ammon along the city streets of Middoni as they talked over final arrangements. While he had not found the companionship with Antiomno that he had once had with Lamoni, Ammon knew that he was a good and worthy ruler. The people loved him and he loved the Lord.

“There are many details to think over, Ammon.” The king’s calm words understated greatly the reality of their undertaking.

Ammon clapped him on the back. “You will have Himni here to help gather and organize your people. Omner will be in Midian and Aaron and I will gather Ishmael.”

“Will our enemies wait long enough for us to be ready?”

“I only know the Lord has bid us great haste; but he has said nothing about manna from Heaven. We will need to prepare.”

“I only hope this will be the will of the Nephite people as well.”

“My brothers and I may have some influence that way.”

“You have been away a long time.”

“It is true; but the Nephites are a generous people. I know there will be a place for us.” Ammon gave hardly a thought to how easily the word “us” escaped his mouth. He had indeed become one with these people who had taken him in and treated him and his brothers as though they were angels sent from God himself. He could hardly bear to think about what would happen if they lingered much longer. Indeed, the Lord had been very plain. In his more than 12 years in this land he had seldom heard such a clear directive. He knew that if they acted with haste the Lord would preserve them and their faith would be a great infusion into his native people.

They walked in companionable silence toward the palace. It gratified Ammon to see the way the king greeted subjects that they passed, and that his subjects, while respectful, did not shirk from him in fear or intimidation. After a few minutes passed, the king said, “What of this place the Nephites will give us?”

“It is south of Bountiful and east of Zarahemla, but nobody lives there.”

“Is the land desolate and barren?”

“Forested. Probably good for farming, but it will take some work.”

He nodded. “There will be a place for this people. But I wonder if there will be a place for me.”

“How so?”

They had just entered the palace gates and the king stopped and gestured toward the palace, “This is the life I was brought up to. I love this people and I love the Lord. I know leaving is the only way to ensure our survival. But I also know that when we implore the Nephites to give us place, we will be surrendering our government for theirs. I am not afraid to work with my hands, but I don’t know how. I will be as a child learning a whole new way to live.”

Ammon smiled. “I was a farmer long before I was a leader. I will be there with you, side by side, to show you what to do, just as I have always been. Aaron will be there, as will Omner and Himni. We will not abandon the people who have given us more joy than we could have ever thought possible.”

The furrow in his brow was slowly replaced with a smile. “I would follow you anywhere, brother. Let us make all haste to start our new lives.”

Ammon left very early the next morning. Only Himni was there to see him off. Himni was characteristically quiet and supportive, and though he would be out of his element to stay behind and organize the efforts to gather and depart, his youngest brother had come a long way since joining his brothers on the adventure of their lives. In the early morning light, Himni’s strange eyes appeared almost blue, though slightly different shades.

With the longest to prepare, those in Middoni would gather food. Ammon’s main job in Ishmael would be to organize the people with enough supplies to see them through until they returned here. It was much faster to get to Jershon by marching straight through the center of the Lamanite holdings, but it was not safe. The images from the afternoon of Lamoni’s death would haunt him forever. He didn’t know how he would bear it if such a thing happened again, especially when the Lord had commanded them to get out.

Himni embraced his brother. “Go with God. After your stop in Midian, you will be back in Ishmael almost a whole month later than we expected.”

“Yes, but I should still arrive before Selah’s time.”

Himni nodded, but Ammon saw something else was on his mind that was difficult for him to voice. “I am sure Abish will understand why you have had to stay.”

He smiled wanly, “I know she will. But I miss her. More than I can say. For all the years we have been in this land, we have lived as nomads—never staying in more than one place for a few weeks or months at the most. We have preached in every city in the land of Nephi. Until I was married I had come to see nearly every part of these Lamanite lands as our own. But now . . .” His voice trailed off, heavy with emotion. There was a pause while he collected his thoughts. “But now, home is wherever she is; I will never be completely content unless she is with me. When we see Alma again, I will ask him to marry us by the sealing power so that nothing can ever separate us. I love her, Ammon, and I have for a long time—even when I was certain she would one day marry you. Worry for her will never be far from my thoughts until I set eyes on her again.”

Himni stopped, spent with feeling. Ammon embraced him. “She is strong; she can take care of herself, and if she cannot then Aaron and I will look after her as our sister.”

“Thank you, brother; please tell her that I think of her often.”

“I will.”

Part Three: The Land of Jershon/Chapter 25: My Joy Is Carried Away

2009-06-01T21:02:00.000-07:00

Part Three: The Land of Jershon
Chapter 25—My Joy is Carried Away

Himni sat back from the parchment on which he had spent the last two hours writing. He looked at the heavy flourish he had used on the symbol for “amen.” The flourish wasn’t characteristic of his writing, but he had to admit that he was deeply satisfied with the work of these pages. Omner had done most of the history keeping of their mission, but this was different. This was a psalm—a psalm worthy of David and Solomon.

He felt no trace of boastfulness as he thought it because these were not his words. They were Ammon’s. A month ago, on the afternoon of Himni’s wedding, all four brothers as well as Ammah and Muloki, were gathered in the same place as they awaited the beginning of the simple ceremony. It was unusual for so many of the sons of Nephi to be in the same place at the same time, and they had all heartily congratulated Himni on his choice of brides. The feeling among them was one of general gladness and contentment. Ammon’s mouth ran away with the deep joy he’d felt in his heart. The words had been beautiful, poetic. At one point, Aaron had accused his brother of boasting.

When Ammon had contradicted their oldest brother to say that he was only boasting in God’s power and benevolence, Himni couldn’t have agreed more. His wonderful words had been a blur in a day when everything was wonderful and blurry. He understood Ammon’s feeling perfectly when he had spoken of the immense gratitude he felt for being delivered unto salvation and then coming to teach their Lamanite brethren of the Savior also. After all, how else could he have met Abish?

She was such a central part of the joy in his life. He believed himself to have been content before, but now he could see that happiness was multiplied greatly when it was shared with one that you loved so deeply. He loved catching her eye across a roomful of people and watching her face light up; he loved the shine he could see in her countenance when they talked about things of the Spirit; he loved the smell of bread frying in his house many mornings; he even loved it when the smell was not there, knowing that she had gone to help another soul into the world.

He had once wondered if her work would get in the way of their marriage, but instead it had been a blessing to them. Himni himself was busy and often away. For over ten years in this land he and his brothers had lived on the generosity of others as they served. Now, Abish’s work provided them with a way to eat without giving up what he loved the most. He never grew tired of her telling about a birth or a mother or a baby. Her eyes glowed with tears as she gave God the praise for each successful delivery and tried to find meaning in the ones with negative outcomes.

He loved the way she moved and worked. He loved when she laced her firm, brown fingers through his pale ones and held on so tightly. He loved holding her close and resting his chin in the crook of her shoulder and smelling herbs in her dark hair. His mind wandered from the page he’d been working on as stared out the window.

“Himni?”

He jumped. He had been so lost in thought he hadn’t heard her come in. “Abish! I’m so happy to see you.”

She raised her eyebrows, “Or surprised?”

He smiled; an expression that came so readily these days. “I was actually just thinking about you and my mind was wandering.”

“Well here I am.”

He embraced her and kissed her forehead. She probably thought he was extremely foolish: she had only been gone a few hours. Somehow he couldn’t help himself when it came to her. Ever since the night she had told him so sweetly of her love, he had never ceased thanking God for such a miracle. “What are you working on?” She indicated the papers at the low table.

He explained about Ammon’s words from their wedding day. He then added. “Though I thought the words beautiful at the time, I didn’t really remember them. My mind was on other things.” He grinned and blushed, bringing laughter to her face, an expression that he loved so much that he had to take her in his arms again. After he kissed her, he completed his explanation, “Then, a few days after our marriage, pieces of it began coming back, and I felt strongly that I should write them. As I followed the prompting, the words came back to me, just as he spoke them. I finished today.” Himni had hardly finished speaking when Abish sat at the table. She read slowly, the Nephite manner of writing was different than the writing she knew best, but she was learning.

Himni stepped away from her, back to the window. He wanted to give her some quiet and became lost in his own thoughts again. Several minutes later he heard her sniffling. He quickly found a cloth for her to wipe her eyes and nose with. She smiled through her tears, “Oh, dear, this is beautiful! I had no idea you could write like this.”

He smiled gently, “I can’t.”

She said quietly, “These words will inspire our people for many generations.”

He nodded slowly, “Maybe there is more to it than that.” She raised her eyebrows, quizzically, and he continued, “Ammon has told you of our friend, Alma?”

“Yes.”

“He is the keeper of a record that is very sacred to our people. Actually, it is many records now. It is basically a spiritual history of this people from the time of Nephi. Omner has kept a record of our mission here in these lands and Alma has indicated in some of his letters that our record should be part of the larger one.”

“I had no idea.”

“The record is very sacred. Not many know of it, so that it is kept safe. Alma believes the record will be less for our own people, than for a people who will follow us.”

“So these words may benefit people everywhere.”

Himni shrugged, “It is hard to know. All I can say is that I have never felt as inspired as I have these last few weeks.”

“Does Ammon know?”

“I was waiting until I had finished. And I just did today.”

“We should take it to the palace now.”

Himni couldn’t help but grin. “We will.”

“What are you grinning about?” Abish was again suspicious and Himni loved the playful expression around her mouth and eyes, probably even suspecting exactly what was on his mind.

“I was just thinking I’ve had two causes for inspiration in these recent weeks.”

“Oh?”
“And I was just thinking that you are here and I am here and maybe that visit to the palace could be put off for a little while . . .” He trailed off, hoping she’d understand his invitation.

“It’s the middle of the afternoon.” Her words sounded like a protest, but she moved closer to him and put her arms around him. Would his heart always skip a beat when she was this near?

He bent his head down to kiss her and murmured, “Have you got somewhere else to go?”

“No. . . Not exactly . . .” Her words trailed off too as she responded easily to his kiss. She smiled broadly and looked up at him. He looked directly into her deep brown eyes and he could see love there he never thought possible. She flushed slightly and said, “Maybe that visit to the palace could be put off for a while.” He laughed for joy before he started kissing her in earnest.

Abish was excited to share Himni’s treasure as they walked to the palace that night. It was a beautiful and cool starry night and she loved the way his hand felt in hers. She had thanked God every day for months for the miracle of the love they had found. She was aware of new threats from many quarters of the land, and she was not so naïve to think that rumors of war would not touch their lives: no amount of healing could make certain memories go away. She had seen firsthand what war was like when only one side was armed, and men all over the land continued to speak Lamoni’s covenant and bury their weapons. Even her brother, always ready for war games even as a child, had buried his sword without a backward glance. Still, she was learning to take the happy times for what they were worth and live each day to its fullest.

As they arrived at the palace, the tension was palpable. She knew something had happened from the relief that was evident on Ammon’s face when he saw his youngest brother. The men—Aaron was there too—went into a room by themselves and Zaria spoke to Abish while Selah paced. Abish tried to convince her to sit; although the girl was trying to hide it, Abish had long guessed she was with child.

Zaria explained that a letter from Alma had finally gotten through. It had been well over a year since Ammon had received any news of goings on in Nephite lands. After so many of their Lamanite warriors had joined the Ammonites, the unconverted cities, spearheaded by the Amalekites, decided it was better to turn on the Nephites. At least they would be armed and it was easier to exploit their hatred. They had gone to the land of Zarahemla to attack several border cities. The Nephites had beaten them back.

“Anyway,” Zaria concluded, “Ammon and Aaron think that this news, coupled with the recent attacks against small groups of our people in Middoni and Midian, means they are ready to turn on us again.”

Abish prayed to have faith so the bitterness wouldn’t come back to consume her. Her voice felt low and strange as she asked, “Will we do as last time; will we just stay?”

“I don’t know. There may not be time to call the kings together. The council has been more or less dissolved, but they still consult with one another when they can. Each king is trying to run his kingdom as God would have them do and according to the will of the people.”

“It is a system not unlike the Nephites.”

“From what Aaron has said, yes. But there are still kings, and this makes us very vulnerable here.”

“Since our king is a baby.”

Zaria gave a wry smile, “Indeed. And the queen is the sister of the king at Jerusalem.”

“Ironic that your bond to Lamoni was meant to seal the alliance between these two nations for at least a generation.” Abish smiled gently, trying to show that she was sympathetic and not sarcastic.

Zaria smiled slowly, nodding, that pained look in her eyes still just under the surface when Lamoni was named. Selah excused herself and the queen carefully cleared her throat. Abish was immediately curious. It was a thing she only heard the lady do when she had something heavy on her mind. Abish was patient, and sure enough, a few seconds later Zaria lowered her voice, “I think I know of another marriage that will help secure position for this people if we move to Nephite lands.”

“Oh?”

“I could marry Aaron.”

Although the thought had been in the back of Abish’ mind since before Ammon wed Selah, she was almost shocked to hear the queen voice it so calmly. Abish tried to match her cool, detached tone. “Has he asked?”

Zaria chuckled, “No, he has not. But I am still a young woman and I am not unaware of the ways a man tries to tell a woman without words.”

Abish smiled. Her friend was indeed young, not thirty, and she was still the most beautiful woman Abish had ever seen. Age had deepened and refined her beauty. The pain of the past year and given her an almost impossible loveliness. “Do you love him?”

“No.”

“Do you consider this only for position?” Abish’s brow furrowed.

“I was married the first time for position. A princess or a queen may not always have the luxury of marrying for love.”

“Maybe love could grow.”

“Perhaps.” The queen conceded, “But even if it did not, we would be good companions. He would be an excellent father to little Lamoni. He could teach my son what kind of man his father was. He is a strong leader.”

“A man born to be king.”

Zaria nodded, “Perhaps yes, and under slightly different circumstances, maybe it is Aaron I would have been promised to in the first place.”

“I just want you to be happy, my friend.”

“As I look back, I know I am happiest when my people are taken care of.”

“You are a good queen.”

Zaria smiled graciously, as only she could, “And you are a very good friend.”

The walk home that night was more subdued than their walk to the palace. Abish was quiet and Himni knew she wanted to ask what had happened in the meeting. He would tell her when they were in the privacy of their home. He tried to divert her by telling of Ammon’s reaction to Himni’s transcript. His eldest brother had reacted with awe and wonder, saying, “If no other words survive of our mission to the Lamanites, the angels in Heaven will know that we did our part. A hundred generations from now, missionaries will read these words and it will give them courage to face each day.”

Abish thrilled at prophecy and the rest of their conversation was punctuated by the missionary work that played a central role in their lives. When they were home, Himni shared his report. “Ammon wants to go to Middoni so that he can talk to King Antiomno. He thinks the other kings will do whatever Antiomno wants.”

“What does he want?”

“We don’t know, but Ammon is going to try to convince him to leave the land of Nephi for the land of Zarahemla. In epistles past, Alma has indicated that there may be a place for us there. Aaron and Ammon have long thought that leaving the Lamanite lands would have to be the ultimate destiny of this people.”

Abish nodded slowly. “What would our new home be like?”

“Different. Closer to the North Sea, and a little colder. It is wetter, but it will be good cropland when it is cleared. Now it is little more than a wilderness.”

“It will be a lot of work.”

Himni agreed, but he could see that Abish wasn’t complaining, just making a statement. “Yes, but it will be a good place.”

“A safe place.”

“A safe place.” He repeated her words and held her hand a little more tightly. There was something else he had to tell his wife too, though he was hardly sure how.

She sensed his hesitation, “What else is on your mind, husband?”

“Am I so easy to read?”

“Your eyes are nearly brown when you have only happy thoughts on your mind. Tonight they are almost blue. Your thoughts must be heavy.”

His eyes widened in surprise; it was a thing he had never known about himself. He marveled again at the pleasure he felt at being near her. He cast his distraction aside and said, “I told you that Ammon wants to go to Middoni.” She nodded slowly, and although he would say the words, he could see that she already knew what was coming. “It is not safe, or right, that my brother should go alone.”

Her eyes filled with tears immediately, but she smiled through them, “And he wants his favorite companion to come?” As he nodded, he felt sick at heart. Even though he knew that such a separation would probably come sooner or later, he had hoped for more time. He wanted to ask her to come, but he knew she would say yes and he was worried about her safety. Besides, there were many here who needed his wife. She sniffed back her tears and became more practical. “Does Ammon know that Selah is with child?”

Himni’s eyes immediately widened in surprise. “He has said nothing to me.”
“She hasn’t told me either.”

“Then how do you know?” Her eyebrows shot up and she just looked at him. He laughed at her expression; of course it was a stupid question. “How far?”

“That I can’t say. Perhaps four or five months from delivery.”

“If all goes well we hope to be back in two months.”

“Will Aaron go with you?”
He shook his head, “No; Ishmael is too vulnerable. So many look to Aaron as a leader that they don’t question much who is in charge here. He can help hold the people together and Zaria can run her kingdom.”

“You should tell Aaron that Zaria is ready to accept his offer of marriage.”

Again, Himni’s eyes widened in surprise. “Aaron wants to marry Zaria?”

“For many months now.”

“How do women know these things?”

Abish laughed. “Men aren’t the only ones who hold closed door meetings! Besides, we are better at understanding what is being communicated even when no words are spoken.”

Himni grinned again, “Like this afternoon?”

Abish blushed and cleared her throat. “Now what were we talking about?”

“You were just saying how much you were going to miss me when I am gone.”

“I was?” Her smile was back even though the red was still hot on her cheeks.

Himni nodded rapidly. “And how we needed to spend as much time as possible together before I go.”

He had meant to tease her out of the somber mood that had come over the day, but the tears were back, “My dear, you will be careful won’t you?”

“Are you kidding? It would take the whole Lamanite army to keep me from coming back to you.”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”

Chapter 24: Healing

2009-05-14T09:44:00.000-07:00

Ammon was exhausted. It had been nearly four weeks since the massacre. He had slept very little since that day. His feelings were still torn about the role he’d been given to play. A part of him believed he should have died next to Lamoni and his sons that morning, yet he was grateful he had been able to help put these people, his people, back together. It had been a very difficult time for the women of Ishmael.

He also had to admit to himself that his exhaustion was not just physical. His spirit was tired down to the very core. He had given more blessings in the past four weeks than probably the past four years put together. Every home he walked into had a tragic story, but each woman or orphan he met looked at him with such faith that his heart ached. Abish had been right—if anybody could have influenced Lamoni to follow another course, it was himself; but he hadn’t. The Lord hadn’t whispered any other way, and so he followed the man he had pledged to serve for life.

But Abish had been wrong about one thing. He did care. He cared deeply. He loved the women and children left behind as if they were his own. That is why he didn’t sleep any more often than exhaustion took him. If only for an hour or two, he could help each one as a husband, a father, a brother, a sweetheart. Except for Abish. He could be none of these things to her. He had watched her from afar for the last month. He knew that the slaughter had cut her faith down to the root. He had seen the flame of the Spirit die in her eyes and only slowly rekindle as she rallied her friends around her and served wherever she could.

Enduring her anger for the past several weeks had been unexpectedly difficult. Though he would often go months without seeing her, he realized just how much he had come to depend on her steady faith and constant friendship. He knew that he didn’t feel for her as Omner felt for his wife, but lately he had wondered if he should marry Abish. She was old, but not so old there wouldn’t be children. And while she wasn’t as beautiful as many of the Lamanite women he had met, there was something remarkable about her countenance when the light of Christ shone in her. There were times when he caught a look in her eyes that told him she would not refuse if he asked. Besides, she would be the perfect companion for his chosen work.

He sighed as he walked through the courtyard, reminding himself that he was not all that young himself and that is was probably foolish to expect deep, soul-stirring love. He skipped rocks in the nearly dry pond. It hadn’t rained since before that terrible day and even in the night air, the heat was as oppressive as the air of tragedy hanging over everyone. His rocks wouldn’t skip, and it only frustrated him further. He glanced to the back of the palace. The queen’s doors were spread wide to catch the hint of breeze that blew through the courtyard. Even from the distance, he could see Abish there, walking baby Lamoni up and down. And though no feeling stirred his heart or body, there was something very peaceful about the picture before him. It would be a good life with her.

He also knew that he would be her only chance for marriage. There was never any suggestion that she loved someone else or that someone loved her. Besides, even if there was such a person, he was surely dead. Hadn’t nearly every eligible—and ineligible—man in her city been killed? Killed because Ammon had kept his mouth closed? Many of the soldiers were unmarried and would probably become suitable husbands for the younger women; Abish’s own brother was among those who was soon to marry, but it was unlikely that too many of the older widows with children would remarry. There were just too few men.

While he was heavy with his thoughts he was startled to hear a noise behind him. He whirled quickly to see Lamoni’s oldest daughter, Selah, standing before him. The moonlight played carefully off her delicate features and it struck him suddenly that she was no longer a child. He wasn’t sure exactly how old she was, but he had been in this land nearly ten years; she must be in her late teens, at least. He was so struck by her loveliness that he forgot his manners and just stared for a moment.

“Ammon?” She said, almost timidly.

“Yes, Selah?” Even her name sounded pretty as it came from his lips. Had he ever spoken to her personally?

She continued, her voice soft in the moonlight and everything seemed perfect for a moment, though her words were nothing special, “My mother saw you walking out here and wondered if everything was all right—if there was something she might do for you.”

Ammon remembered his manners and his charm. He smiled broadly, feeling for the first time in a long time that he really wanted to. “I am doing well, thank you. I was just thinking I might like a little company. Would you walk around the garden with me?”

She smiled too, revealing impossibly white and even teeth. Her eyes lit up and she said, “Of course,” as she peered from behind her long dark lashes. She took Ammon’s offered arm as naturally as if she had come for no other purpose.

After several turns around the garden, Selah said she needed to get back to her mother. Ammon watched her walk away, her brilliant green, filmy gown catching in the slight breeze and flowing so slightly behind her. Although he’d only really seen her for the first time less than an hour ago, he knew in a flash that he would never marry Abish. The last request he would fulfill for Lamoni would be the first he had made—he would take one of Lamoni’s daughters to wife.

It rained that night. Hard. As always when the air pressure changed, Abish was very busy delivering babies in the days that followed. All boys. In the weeks that followed, many of the widows also gave birth to healthy baby boys. The boys were mostly named after fathers or brothers who had been killed, but there was a generous sprinkling of Lamonis, Aarons, Ammons, Omners, and even a Himni or two. But hardly any girls. For every girl born there were probably seven or eight boys. In all her years of midwifing, she had never seen anything like it. Besides the births, families picked up men in other ways—many of the orphaned daughters married soldiers who had stayed in Ishmael. Abish’s brother married Sasha and she wept for joy when she was able to add sisterhood to their friendship. Until she sat with them often at their simple table, she hadn’t realized just how much she had been without when she had no family.

Although it was different in the city, Abish was the first to admit that much of the joy and peace their lives had held just a year or two before was returning. Zaria was still sad and distant at times, but Aaron was very attentive. Abish believed it was only a matter of an appropriate amount of time passing before he proposed to the queen. In fact, all four brothers had spent most of their time in the city since that horrible day. With so few men and recent converts, the church was weak in Ishmael and needed their strength.

After a particularly exhausting night with young Lamoni, Zaria fed the baby and handed him off to Abish who rocked him back and forth until his cries soothed and he fell asleep. The steady rocking and cuddly baby on her chest rocked Abish to sleep too. She awoke early in the morning to his fussing and rooting and laughed as she held him slightly away from her. “Sorry kiddo, we need to find mommy for that.”

He responded by chewing on Abish’s arm. She laughed again and walked to the inner chamber to find Zaria. The queen had just arisen and was putting on her dressing gown. “I thought I heard someone wake up.” She said brightly as she took the baby from Abish. “Thank you so much; I really needed the sleep last night.”

Abish smiled, “My pleasure. I think he is getting a tooth on the bottom—that may be the problem.”

The queen sighed, “They grow up so fast.” Abish agreed and was about to leave when the queen asked her to sit. Abish settled herself on the edge of the bed and looked at her friend expectantly. Zaria said. “You and I have been friends a long time.”

“Yes.”

“So I am telling you something first, but only because I know you won’t tell anyone else. Ammon came to see me last night.”

“Oh?”

“He has asked for Selah’s hand in marriage.”

It took a moment for the words to register and Abish was glad to be sitting down. Though she hadn’t consciously thought about Ammon with thoughts of marriage for a long, long time, Zaria’s announcement reminded Abish she had never really given up hope that his feelings might one day deepen. As long as he remained single there had still been a chance, but now . . . now Abish would really be alone. She swallowed and gathered her thoughts quickly trying not to feel jealous of the beautiful Selah. She nodded slowly, “It is a good thing.”

Zaria nodded too. “Yes. A very good thing. For Selah.”

“And Ammon too.”

“You don’t think Ammon is doing this out of obligation to my husband, do you? She is young enough to be his daughter.”

Abish paused a moment to carefully word her response. “I think Ammon has held out a long time to find a woman he truly loves. While there may be a sense of obligation, Selah has become a beautiful young woman with many attributes that would draw a man to her. It will be a great match.”

“Yes.”

Abish said quietly, “You married Lamoni out of obligation, and you grew to love him.”

The queen was nodding now, “Yes. I wish it had been my choice, though.”

“What does Selah want?”

“She is so happy she can hardly contain herself.”

Abish smiled, knowing that Selah could be very emotional. Her zest for life would match Ammon’s. “So we must then trust that Ammon is a grown man, and by asking for Selah’s hand in marriage he has made the right choice.”

“You are right. I will give my permission. We must spread this news very soon. I think this will bring much happiness to our people.”

“I think our people are ready for a little joy.” But as she said the words she felt very little of it herself.

Abish moved away from the bright crowd to the courtyard. The festivities had not spilled outside because there was a new moon that night and it threatened rain. The night was unusually cool and very dark. She shivered slightly in her light wrap, and began walking to warm up. Despite the darkness, she knew her way around the courtyard, and although it took her eyes a few minutes to adjust, she was able to easily stay on the path.
Ammon and Selah’s wedding earlier that day had been beautiful. Selah was gloriously happy and the tired, aged look in Ammon’s eyes had faded until he seemed much as he had when she first saw him ten years ago: the night he had mistaken her for one of Lamoni’s daughters. She drew her breath in sharply, willing such thoughts away.

At the party, she had tried to focus on enjoying herself, but the lack of men in the dances and pretending happiness she didn’t really feel had finally taken its toll. She slipped away into the quiet garden, grateful to be alone in the dark.

Then, suddenly she wasn’t alone. She recognized Himni in the garden. He almost seemed to be waiting for her as she circled the garden on her walk. Still, he didn’t approach, as if he was waiting for something. She paused for just a moment before walking toward him. Though she had left the party to be alone, his solid and dependable presence was oddly comforting. “Good evening, Himni.”

He nodded toward her, “I didn’t mean to interrupt your solitary ramble. I just wanted to know that you were all right.”

Unshed tears prickled just behind her eyes. “I didn’t know anybody was aware that I left.”

He looked at her sideways, and she could barely make out his features from the lighted palace. “I knew. And . . .” then he looked down and paused for some time. “I know this day was difficult for you.”

In the weeks since she’d had her conversation with Zaria, she had not spoken of her difficulty to anyone, even the queen. But she and Himni had come to know each other over many hours spent in quiet conversation during her late night vigils and he had a way of seeing right into the heart of things. Suddenly the tears would not stay unshed, but she would still not admit to her foolishness, “And why would you think that?” Her voice sounded thick in her ears.

He gave a wry smile that reminded her so much of Ammon that the tears began flowing in earnest. “I have known you many years, friend. I know you have loved my brother a long time, though I would doubt you’ve ever spoken to anyone about it.”

Abish nodded, tired of the subterfuge. “I’m a fool.”

His expression immediately changed and he shook his head, “Love is not foolish.”

“What about holding on to something for ten years without even an inkling that your feeling is returned?” Her voice broke and she turned away to begin walking again; he followed though he stayed silent for a long time while she got control of her emotions.

He then said so quietly that she almost had to lean into him to hear. “Hope is what keeps us going. Hope gets us out of bed in the morning even when there are few assurances for getting our hearts’ desires.” His intense words gave her heart unexpected warmth and she had the distinct impression that he understood exactly what she was feeling. Impulsively, she took his arm and almost regretted it when she felt him tense underneath her touch, but then he relaxed and they walked for some time in silence.

After several minutes she shivered involuntarily. He observed, “You’re cold. We should go back.”

Abish stopped, but shook her head, “No; I feel peaceful. Right now in this moment I feel more at peace than I have felt for many months. I’m not quite ready to rejoin the others yet.”

Himni looked at her very directly for the first time all evening, and though it was dark, she somehow knew the expression on his face. He said quietly, “I feel it too.”

And then, in the moment it took for her heart to beat so loud she was sure he would hear it, she knew that she had spent years looking toward the wrong brother. Even in the dark she knew the expression of love and tenderness in Himni’s eyes. She knew it because she had seen it countless times before, though she never knew what it really was until exactly this moment. One eye slightly green and the other slightly brown. She opened her mouth to speak, but what could be said?

So she closed it and kept walking, suddenly so conscious of his touch she feared she would tremble. Her thoughts were jumbled with her newfound awareness and she replayed scenes from the time she’d known him. His backward glance at their first meeting. His ever-ready presence when she left the palace in the middle of the night whether Ammon came or not. His capable hands blessing babies and mothers and children. The way Ammon deferred to Himni’s judgment whenever it was expressed. His quiet manner of preaching that could touch hearts even Ammon failed to reach. His convincing Lamoni to leave them behind to defend the women if it came to that. She suddenly knew it had been Himni that carried her away screaming from Lamoni’s body and that scene of death the first day, and probably to her own bed the night Zaria gave birth. He had been with her so much the last several weeks, attentive, reassuring, helpful, supporting her and loving her even as her faith faltered and her world crumbled. In her reverie she was clumsy, but as she tripped on a rock and nearly fell, Himni caught her elbow.

She looked up at him as she straightened. “Oh, Himni! I am a fool . . .”

“No, Abish, you mustn’t . . .” He started to contradict her, but she held her trembling hand to his lips and shook her head.

She moved her hand to his cheek, praying for courage to say the right words, “I see now, now that I fear it is too late, that I have spent years overlooking the thing I already had.”

Himni said nothing as he took Abish’s hand from his face and held it. His voice was low and intense, “These last months have shown that life is fragile—that we don’t know when it will be taken from us. And now I can’t keep myself from telling you that I’ve loved you since the first day I met you. I know that Ammon’s inattention and now his marriage has hurt you, but I would be a good husband to you. I would never take you for granted. I think in time you would see that you could come to love me too . . .”

He trailed off because Abish embraced him. He held her tightly in return and she whispered through fresh tears, “How could I have been so blind?”

Himni’s laugh was shaky as he held her close, “The girls were always a little blind when it came to Ammon.”

Abish’s own laugh was tremulous but felt wonderful. The mood almost immediately lifted between them and Himni pulled his heavy cloak off and wrapped it around her. “You look beautiful, but it’s a ridiculous dress for a night this cold.” Abish flushed and she could hear the shyness in Himni’s voice as he followed with, “I’ve wanted to say that so many times.”

Abish smiled brightly at him, unsure which gave her more warmth—his coat or his sweet words. Her mood was so changed she could hardly believe she was the same girl who had escaped the party less than half and hour ago. Her heart was full, and she could hardly think of a single coherent thing to say; it seemed that Himni was having the same emotion because they wandered for some time through the garden, alternately blurting out random things. It was plain that Himni’s words had been saved up a long time.

The happy couple finally decided to rejoin the party, thinking that they might be missed. Abish hesitated just before they entered the palace and held him back slightly. “Himni . . .” He looked at her, directly again, his fear and shyness gone. He raised his eyebrows quizzically, waiting for her to finish, “I know it seems like my decision is the decision of a moment. That perhaps my words are just my loneliness talking . . .” she struggled to formulate her words, hoping to say just the right thing, “But there is a rightness to this beyond anything I’ve every felt, and I will never look back.”

He smiled broadly, “For many years I have dreaded Ammon’s wedding day, I was so sure that you would be his bride. Now, I must confess that I sought you out tonight trying to offer you some comfort in the hopes that you might begin to transfer your feelings for him . . .” He laughed. “I thought it would take months to convince you, and instead I find that Ammon’s wedding day will always be my almost happiest day.”

“Almost?”

“The best day will be our wedding day.”

Before she could agree, they heard the sound of footsteps running across the courtyard. The runner was looking about frantically in the garden. “Abish?” The person called out when he was closer. He was a servant from the palace. She nodded for him to continue. He said breathlessly, “There is a baby coming.”

Abish fought the urge to sigh. Could there have been one night without an emergency? She had warned Prida to take it easy on the eating and the dancing, but she had avoided Abish’s advice despite her close time. No doubt she’d brought her labor on, but it was Prida’s fourth child and she was a strong woman. Nor was the baby too early; it would be a good birth. Still she was loathe to leave.

“Send word that I am coming, and ask the queen to find a place for the mother in the palace.”

The servant ran off as quickly as he’d come. She turned back to Himni where he stood in the shadows behind her. She pulled his cloak from her shoulders, feeling the loss of warmth immediately. She stepped close to him, the coat between them. He wasn’t a lot taller than she, being the shortest of his four brothers, but he was broad through the shoulders. She had never noticed before. He embraced her and there was concern through his tender expression, “Does she have a husband?”

“He was killed.”

Himni shook his head. “How will this generation of children grow up without fathers?”

“They will look to their leaders, and God will make their mothers stronger than any mothers the world has known. Our poets will sing of them for generations to come.”

He kissed the top of her head, “Indeed you are the most remarkable woman I have ever met.” She smiled up at him one last time. He kissed her again, this time quietly and tenderly on the lips. “Godspeed little Midwife.”

She ran through the darkness toward the house.

The baby came well before dawn and Abish was able to get some sleep as the day began. Instead of falling into a deep sleep as she usually did after a delivery, she dreamed that she was back in her peaceful forest, just as on the night she met Himni. She swam through the pools of amber and green. It was impossible to decide which was better—the calm and serenity of the amber or the way the green infused her with energy and vigor. Both feelings were equally full of possibility.

Chapter 23: A Miracle

2009-05-09T11:23:00.000-07:00

The fever to bury weapons spread through the land like a grassfire. Abish bit her tongue as she watched women catch their husbands’ excitement. It was harder to stay quiet when she heard these same women say that they’d heard Ammon prophesy that Christ Himself would come down to stop the soldiers. What good would it do to rob the false hope these women clung to? The reality would set in soon enough.

Or not so soon. The anticipation of the attack was almost more than Abish could bear. She fought to keep her calm; her very livelihood depended on how competent she seemed to the women she helped. And she worried about Zaria. She was under too much stress for a woman within two months of delivery. It seemed to Abish that Zaria was the only one who harbored her same fears. “Does it seem like we are surrounded by faith, or just fanaticism?” The queen asked Abish very quietly one morning as Abish brushed her hair—a ritual that had been readopted with Abish in the next room.

Abish sighed, “I know. Every other time there has been this kind of fervor, I have felt it down deep, in my heart. This time, there is . . .”

“Just a sickening dread for what lies ahead.”

“Dread alternating with a dead and empty feeling. I feel exactly the same way I did in the days after my father’s death.”

Still the waiting continued. Abish knew the sons of Mosiah had not left the city. Whatever happened, they would witness it, or be a part of it. At least they were not cowards. The brothers often joined Lamoni’s family for their evening meal, as did Abish. She noticed the way Ammon carefully avoided looking at her, even as she was busy avoiding looking at him. She had not yet come around to being sorry for the things she said to him. She began to believe there was another person in her life who would die before she could make amends, but she couldn’t bring herself to unsay what she had said.

Finally word came of a large army amassing just a day or two away. The men were ready, having organized themselves into groups ready to march to the plain just north and east of the great city. They brought few provisions, not knowing how long they’d have need of them. On the day the men began their exodus from the city to the battlefield tomb, Abish could see the subdued looks on the faces of women gathered in the streets, trying to pretend everything was normal, that their farewells were only temporary. Even their zealous faith could not see them easily through the actual goodbye. By then end of the day the whole city was tense with waiting.

Abish walked to the front gate of the palace to lock it. This was a job the guards normally handled, but the city was nearly empty of men that night. She laughed at the futility of locking the gate. If an army poured into town, a simple lock would not keep anybody out. She expected the street to be deserted, but was shocked to Himni there, fully armed.

“Himni?” She called into the darkness, sure that her eyes were deceiving her.

He started, “Abish. You should be inside; this night may not be safe.”

“But you are here.”

“I think that one will not deter an army.” He sounded deeply sorrowful.

“But there is one man willing to try.”

Even in the near-darkness, she could see her hard words pained him. “Please, sister, do not think this way. Every man must do what he feels is best during perilous times.”

“And I suppose that means every woman is left without a choice?”

There was a long pause, and finally, so low she could barely hear him, “When I was reunited with my brother all those years ago, he told me the story of a woman with such faith, that even in slavery, she had chosen to pray every day for the gospel to come to her land. When every other choice had been taken from her, she still chose to believe.”

His words were said with such gentle tenderness they almost reached her heart. Before the emotion could overtake her she said, “I have changed a lot since then.”

“Perhaps.”

“But you aren’t out on the front tonight, either. What of your faith?” Abish felt a sudden desire to goad and hurt him, the way she had Ammon.

He shook his head, “My brothers and I made no covenant. As much as we love your people, we have never forgotten that we are not a part of them.”

“I am not sure Ammon feels that way.”

“He didn’t make the covenant either. And when Lamoni asked Ammon to defend his wife, he didn’t hesitate.” Abish looked puzzled. “I am here tonight and Ammon is at the door to Zaria’s room.” Her eyes grew big and Himni continued, again in that low, soothing tone. “Which I believe is your room too?”

“Yes.” She practically stammered the word. But she would not let his soothing words and calming presence rob her anger. “There are many women in the city this night who do not have such reassurance.”

Himni nodded, “And my prayers are with them. I have done all I can.”

She said nothing more, and left him at the gate, feeling his peculiar eyes burrowing into her back. As she made her way down the corridor to Zaria’s room, she did see Ammon waiting there. She had to speak to him, it was necessary that she pass him before entering. “Hello.” He nodded, curtly, and stood aside for her. She began to enter the room, and then she felt compelled to say, “Thank you, Ammon.”

The expression on his face didn’t change. “I wanted to be out there with my brethren, but many years ago I vowed to Lamoni that I would serve him all the days of my life. Tonight, this is where he sent me.”

“Then I thank you for keeping your commitment.”

“You have Himni to thank.”

“Himni?”

“I believe Lamoni would have had his Nephite brothers at his side, but once Himni gave him this idea, he could not get it out of his head.”

“I am sorry you are here against your will, but I am not sorry you are here.”

“We will see.”

She awoke near dawn to the sound of drums, as relentless and steady as the ones that played while her farther marched to his death. Zaria said quietly before Abish could ask the question, “War drums.” Abish said nothing, just sat and held her friend’s hand, waiting, desperately trying to fight the image of dozens of Lamanite warriors pouring through the garden into these beautiful and vulnerable rooms. Her dream from so many weeks before pounded in her brain with the rythym of the drum beats; the desperation she had carried in her heart for so many weeks began to slowly fill her soul.

In the years after, Abish would never be able to describe that day as any more than a blur. It seemed like she had sat silently for hours, shoulder to shoulder with Zaria and her daughters in the big bedroom. Then, everything happened at once. Ammon burst through the door. The sudden movement caused Sariah to scream and instant panic spread among the children as Abish fully expected the horrors to start.

Ammon’s eyes were wild, but hopeful. He sought out the queen, “The city is not under attack. We have received word from the front that the fighting is over. The enemies have retreated.”

Retreated? Had Christ really come to deliver this people? Abish practically leaped off the bed, as did Zaria and Sariah and Selah. Ammon stopped them at the door. “No. I think it is not good for you to go.”

“There will be wounded; they will need nurses. And Zaria will want to see Lamoni.” Abish insisted.

“It may not be safe.”

Zaria backed away, putting her hand under her belly. “I will stay with the children, but I think Abish should go.”

Ammon’s blue eyes darted between their faces and then he nodded, “Very well.”

Lamoni’s home was in the center of the city and it took her nearly two hours to walk to the plain. As she walked, she saw many trickling into the city. Some were wounded, but she knew if they were walking then they were not in need of immediate attention. As she neared the edge of town, she felt the urgency grow inside of her and her steps became faster and faster until she was practically running to reach the battlefield. Then she halted abruptly when she reached the spot.

The image from her dream flooded her brain for the hundredth time, but it was no dream. The sight before her was sickeningly real. She began running among bodies, looking for someone, anyone that was alive. She saw many women, like herself, but it didn’t seem to Abish they had come to help. They were looking for fallen loved ones. She was puzzled to see some Lamanite soldiers dead among the slaughter of her own people. Had some of the men fought after all? And what could have possibly made the rest of the soldiers retreat? These questions stopped as soon as she found a living man. She knelt at his side and began offering the help she could. She gritted her teeth against the sight of the arrow in his arm and the way his head had been bashed. How could he still be breathing? His eyes were glazed over, and the sticky blood was dried all over his neck and torso. She didn’t even know what to do for such injuries. If he did survive these first few days, he would surely die of a fever. She found a spot where the wound was still oozing blood and she applied pressure to it with one of the rags she had brought. She looked around the field; there was no one to help her.

The first man died in her arms, as did most of the others she found alive. By late afternoon, others had joined her—the sons of Mosiah, the few unwounded men, and women like herself. Some were found alive, but many of them so badly injured that they could only be made as comfortable as possible until their inevitable deaths. Just as dusk settled in, Lamoni’s body was found. The damage was brutal, unspeakable. His sons were slaughtered in a similar fashion—one on his right and one on his left.

Abish held his cold, mutilated, stiff corpse in her arms and wept noisy and bitter tears over the king who had, for a moment, restored hope to her people. She wept for the pain she knew Zaria would feel and for the baby who would never know the valiance of his father. Her tears turned into screaming wails after the manner of the Lamanite women. Abish felt as though she heard the screams from outside, as if someone else was making the sound. The hairs on her arms and neck stood up for the absolute misery in the sound. It was then that someone pried Lamoni’s body from her arms, and carried her to a place where she might rest. She was exhausted and past real awareness.

The next thing she remembered was waking up in a makeshift tent to a terrible smell. It had been a warm night and the bodies had already begun to rot. The ache in her head pounded until she thought she’d go blind from the pain, but she staggered from the tent anyway. There was a terrible buzz in her ears as she stepped into the bright sunlight. She took a large dipper from the fresh water in the bucket at the entrance to the tent, hoping the moisture would alleviate her terrible headache and make the buzzing go aways. The water helped to soothe the ache in her head slightly, but the buzz became sharper. Then she realized something.

The buzz was not in her head at all, but surrounding her. Flies. Tens of thousands of them swarming down on warm, stinking corpses. The carrion birds swept from the forest, more efficient at getting rid of bodies than the few healthy humans walking among the dead. Abish finished her drink and walked dazedly toward the scene of destruction. The scope of the work to be done nearly overwhelmed her, but the self-discipline wrought over years of doing her duty moved her feet forward into the carnage.

As the days wore on, she realized that the men she saw were not the worst. Many young boys, hardly more than children had followed their fathers. In addition, there was the occasional body of a woman or a young girl—families who had joined their fathers to witness the miracle first hand. The miracle that didn’t happen. Abish hoped the soldiers who had killed them were in too much a frenzy of slaughter to notice these women and girls so that death came suddenly for them too.

Abish flapped her arms and screamed angrily at the hideous bald vulture which hovered just a few feet from where she was tending her latest young victim. For two days she’d been out in the muck and the mire; for two three days this young boy had been practically buried in bodies and blood and flies. She felt sick as she looked as his delirious and yet dear young face. She knew that in not too many months, this young man would celebrate his tenth birthday, if he lived that long. She knew because the boy in her arms was the first baby she had delivered on her own. The body she’d pushed aside when she heard his feeble cries was was Ham’s. Perhaps his father’s last act had been to throw his wounded body on top of his first-born son in the hope of saving his life. Abish cradled Omri’s head with one arm while she threw rocks at the vulture with another. Ham would get a proper burial if she could do anything about it.

Within minutes, she knew her rock throwing was futile, the vulture had gone for reinforcements. Besides, her sudden movements seemed to upset young Omri who was delirious with pain. With what seemed to be the last of her strength she heaved him out from under a second man who lay across his legs. He screamed with pain and then fell limp against her as Abish saw the source of his pain was a crushed leg. The child’s brow was feverish and sticky with sweat. With unseeing eyes, he whimpered for his mother while Abish sang the remembered strains from an old lullaby her friend had often sung to her little charges. The music seemed to relax him slightly and she sang what she knew over and over again while the vultures swarmed around her and began to pick at Ham’s body.

Abish held him close, the tears that never dried in this place oozed out from her eyelids and down her filthy cheeks. She hefted the large boy into her arms, carrying him clumsily to the makeshift hut where the living waited for a slow death. Her legs nearly buckled under his weight; exhaustion and anger had made her weak. Women and men dying for what they believed in was one thing, but how could Omri with his tender years understand the sacrifice he was making? Yet here he was writhing in agony from the splintered bones sticking through the skin in his lower leg, and probably wounds she couldn’t see. He didn’t seem to recognize her face, though she had often visited in his home. His delirium made him oblivious to everything but pain. What would she tell Sasha? She thought of the tiny bag she wore at her waist where she only had a pitifully small dosage of herbs to give him. He would need much more if he was to rest. In a flash, she could see the rest of his short life—he would likely die of infection if the loss of blood didn’t get him first. She fought the memory of the precious, triumphant moment of his birth and the way his mother laughed for joy when he was laid in her arms.

They had begun burying the dead in a massive grave just outside town. Would Sasha ever hold her miracle baby in her arms again? Would she see Ham’s body before it too was pushed into the pile as some wild animal without any proper ceremony or prayer? Or before the vultures picked his bones clean? Her head whirled with her own sense of delirium as the smell threatened to overwhelm her again. Her sense of loss for the little forgotten boy in her arms was sharp as the loss of their king.

She hadn’t slept since the night after the massacre, had it been two or three days before? The exhaustion in her arms was heavy and her head was muddled. She’d been wearing the same dress for days and it was covered with blood and dirt. The heat was nearly unbearable and she felt the sweat trickle down her neck and breasts even though it was still a couple of hours until midday. She fought the screaming wails that threatened to escape. Such a noise would help no one in this place even if it would make her feel better for a moment.

She forced her bleary eyes to focus as she stopped to rest. She gingerly lay Omri on the ground, not sure if she’d have the energy to pick him back up. She scanned the battlefield and could see the sons of Mosiah and their companions circulating in twos, offering blessings and words of comfort. Comfort! Abish nearly choked on the thought. How was there any measure of comfort in this? She felt a bitterness she had never known before swell like gall in her throat until she thought she would wretch. All of those years of prayers and faith—now, to end like this! Where was the joy her people had known just the year previous? Was this what their God had led them to? In that moment, as never before, Abish doubted. She doubted every word she’d ever heard about the God of the Nephites; mostly she doubted any spiritual feeling she’d ever had. How could a merciful god have stood by while this happened? How could there be any beneficent god in a place like this?

Still, she knew that as long as she had strength to stand she would do what she could for the injured. Himni had tried to speak to her once yesterday, but she had rudely brushed him aside. Tears smarted in her eyes as she thought of the hurt and confusion evident in his strong features. She needed to get some water—to get off the blood-stained battlefield that was rank with death. She signaled to someone to help her carry Omri to the makeshift hospital. At least there was water there and a measure of shelter from the harshest sun.

The sight of the dead was almost better than the living. The smell wasn’t quite as strong here, but the sounds were horrible. Abish found a bucket of water and drained a large dipperful. She looked up and across the tent to see Zaria. Her eyes widened in shock and her slow movements suddenly became quick. “Your majesty, what are you doing here?”

Zaria’s smile was wan. “I came to help.”

Abish took her arm and led her to a place to sit. “But you need help.”

Her face was pale and waxy from heat and swelling. She eased carefully onto the overturned crate. Abish noted her swollen ankes with a scowl as the queen said, “I couldn’t sit idly by while all this was going on.” She gestured weakly around her.

“How long have you been here?”

“Since yesterday afternoon.”

“Did you walk?” Zaria nodded slowly, braving her midwife’s displeasure. Abish was stern, “The best thing for this kingdom right now is the delivery of a healthy baby. What good can you possibly do here?”

“Giving hope.” Zaria said softly, “You must admit that it could have been much worse.”
Abish’s eyes narrowed and she knew her face was hard. She bit back asking Zaria if she had seen what had been done to her husband and stepsons and just gave a bark of a laugh. “You are going home right now. This baby will be more than a month early if it comes now--too soon under these conditions. You cannot deliver a baby in this filth.”

Zaria could see Abish’s logic and nodded slowly again. She agreed to sit while someone was found to transport her back to the palace. Abish saw Aaron just then, carrying a wounded man into the shelter and looking for a place, any place to lay him. “Aaron!” Abish called to him.

He looked up abruptly as she lifted her skirt over bodies to make her way to him. “The queen needs to get home”

“Zaria is here?”

The concern on his face was immediate and Abish hoped that he’d agree to spare the men to take arrange a litter for her. “Yes. She walked here yesterday. I am worried the baby will come early, and this is a bad place for a delivery.”

“I will arrange transport for her myself.”

“Quickly,” in her urgency she was snappish.

Aaron nodded and left the tent as quickly as he found a place for the girl he’d brought inside. Abish tended both the girl and the queen, noting that the queen’s color wasn’t much better than the child’s.

Minutes later, she was gratified to see Aaron return with a group of men and a carrier on which to transport the queen. As they came closer, however, she noted that several of the men were Lamanite soldiers. She was in complete shock. She had seen these men around, but had not questioned their presence—it was too much to think about. One of the injured men she tended told her the soldiers turned on each other when the rearguard realized what was happening up at the front. Another injured man told her that many of the soldiers had thrown down their weapons in penitence. She had turned a deaf ear, thinking they were only the raving deliriums of dying men; but now, right before her, was Aaron with a group of them.

She confronted him, “These men cannot transport our queen to the palace.”

Aaron tried to be soothing, but he was not as good at it as Himni. Aaron was used to being in charge, “Now, Abish, I know how you must be feeling.”

“You have no idea what I am feeling. How can you trust these men to escort our queen when you see all this?” This time she didn’t care if she sounded shrewish.

“I will not leave Queen Zaria alone; I will go too.” This placated Abish somewhat, but still she hesitated. He continued, “In truth, there is no one else to spare. These men must do the job or Zaria must stay here.”

That settled it, but Abish still felt deep misgiving as she saw the queen settled into her litter. She kissed her cheek and promised to come as soon as she could. Abish gave last minute instructions to Aaron about carrying the litter as carefully as possible with a minimum of jarring.

She tried to banish her friend’s condition from her thoughts and turn back to the task at hand. There were other women helping in the tent, so she decided to return to the battlefield. It was beoming increasingly unlikely that any more live bodies would be found, but the men who were working would certainly need water.

She picked up a large jug and took it to the well where she filled it as full as she could. She balanced it on her head, and took a deep breath to prepare herself again for the terrible sights and smells. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and suddenly heard a voice at her elbow. “Abish, you are needed.”

She opened her eyes and turned slowly to see Omner at her right. Although Aaron had organized the efforts of the last few days, and Ammon and Himni had given blessings of comfort and healing to mourners and survivors, it was Omner she had seen most often out here moving bodies and digging graves. He said, “Let others tend to the sick; I need your help elsewhere.”

“And what special skills do I have that would pull me away from this?” She didn’t even try to keep the edge out of her voice. Still, she placed her water carefully on the ground and began to follow him back into the city. The walked for several minutes and passed the hospital. He led her further into town than she had been for several days to the site of a large outdoor pavilion where a market was held during harvest season. Her eyebrows furrowed when she saw the crowd gathered. Who were all these people?

He said, “You speak several Lamanite dialects, don’t you?”

“Some.”

“We need an interpreter. For the soldiers.”

Abish looked at him sharply. “What soldiers?”

“Those who have stayed behind after their captain ordered a retreat.”

“Prisoners?” Abish asked with a measure of excitement. Perhaps there would be retribution.

He shook his head. “Converts.”

Abish stopped short. Omner turned to look at her. She had never before noticed how intense and serious his eyes were. They bored straight into hers, but she took a deep gulp and said, “No, no. I thought it was a rumor.”

“You have seen these men out working yourself. It is not a rumor. It is a miracle.”

“A miracle?” Her voice was hard. “A miracle? How can you drag God into any part of this mess? Less than a ten minute walk from here there are women and children, dying from grotesque wounds because of these men. You want me to help them?”

“God does not judge men for things they do not understand.”

“The Lamanites may not live by the Nephite laws of right and wrong, but these men were taught to fight armies, not children. They knew better.”

“These men followed their commanders into battle without clear information. The ones here are responsible for the stop to the destruction. It would have been worse without them. Every one of these men defied orders to turn on their fellow soldiers when they saw what was happening. The other Lamanites fled because of these men. Now they want to learn the gospel; they want to learn what it is that makes a man so brave that he will face an awful death without even a sword to defend himself.”

“I’d like to make it known that I was never that crazy about the leave-your-swords-at-home battle plan.”

“God didn’t want us to fight a war. He wanted our numbers to grow.”

Abish’s anger, so close to the surface these days, came out in hot and angry tears. She shouted, “Yesterday I held a little girl in my arms while she died, her skull smashed from the blow of soldier’s club. God wanted our numbers to grow? Where is the husband she should have had? Who are the righteous children she will raise up? Nothing God could do now will undo the horror committed here.”

Omner’s own eyes filled with tears. She saw that he too had a great compassion for the people, and she knew her bitterness was pushing her to edge of irrationality. He reached his hand out and touched her arm. “Perhaps God will do the impossible. Maybe you will see a miracle this day.”

She stared at his intense gaze while something deep inside of her stirred; she was angered by the ember of testimony Omner’s words kindled. Bereft of real belief, she felt herself nod anyway as she whispered. “I will follow you.”

He smiled slightly and his own tears spilled over. “Dear Abish, where will any of us be if your faith falters?” He led her, subdued, toward the teeming pavilion.

Her first impression was that there were hundreds of men. The stench near the pavilion was very real, yet she was grateful for the smell of living bodies instead of dead or dying ones. Omner briefed Abish over the din.

“These men have been organized according to what language they speak. They are being taught the gospel in shifts.”

“Shifts?”

“Yes. We rotate them through every few hours—this is only a part of the men right now. The rest are working in other parts of the city and out on the battlefield. Helping the women nurse the sick. Digging graves. Replanting crops. We told them if they wanted to stay, they had to help.” As they walked and talked, Omner pointed things out and explained the logistics. Omner is the hands. Despite her anger, she couldn’t help but admire Omner’s efficiency.

“Now why am I here?”

“I need a translator. They are doing well enough at helping, but I’m unable to teach the gospel to some of them.”

“I’m not sure I’m the best one to be preaching right now.”

He smiled sideways at Abish, looking for a moment like all of his brothers at once, “You just interpret, I’ll preach.”

She spent the day at his side, knowing the work she was doing was fanning the flames of the testimony she had believed dead just hours before. On some level she knew that this small light in her heart would be enough to see her through another walk to the hospital or the battlefield.

As dusk approached, Abish and Omner paused for a few minutes to eat some bread. It wasn’t much, but Abish devoured it hungrily, suddenly realizing that she had no idea when she had last eaten. Seeing Omner standing slightly apart for a moment, two men approached him, eager to have more of their questions answered. Their language was one Omner understood and Abish allowed her attention to wander from their earnest conversation. The room seemed to spin as she stood still, deep tiredness stealing over her so quickly that she thought she might fall right where she was.

That is when she saw him.

He stood several feet away, leaned against the wall, his arms heavily tattooed with the marks of bravery in the Lamanite army. His jaw was hard and his body lean; he had undoubtedly been a soldier for a very long time. But it was the eyes the drew Abish in.

Eyes exactly like her fathers.

Eyes exactly like Abish’ own.

She interrupted Omner without realizing what she was doing, “Do you know that man over there?”

There must have been something in Abish’s tone that said how important is answer was because he abandoned his conversation in-mid sentence, his eyes following Abish’s finger.

Omner shrugged, “I spoke to him earlier. From Helam I think.”

“Do yo know his name?”

“No.” But then he turned to the soldiers still standing with them and asked the same question.

To which one of them responded, “Yes. Leonti is his name.”

The eyes. The name. All the same. “What is it Abish?” Omner’s question broke her inense concentration.

“I think that man is my brother that I’ve not seen in nearly fifteen years.”

She walked away from Omner, her half-eaten bread thrust into his hand. Her hunger mattered little now. Only finding out if this miracle was for her too. She approached him timidly, unsure what to say, but almost certain that a confused look of recognition passed through his features as he looked at her.

“Do I know you?” His speech was heavily accented, but the language spoken in Helam.

Abish replied in the language of their childhood, “Was your father called Armac?”

This time the recognition was founded on something and he peered closely before whispering, “Abish?”

“Leonti?”

And then suddenly the two siblings were crying and hugging and laughing as tumbled bits of their stories all came out at once. But they had hardly spoken when a child’s voice called out, “Abish! The queen!”

Abish whirled from her brother to see a young child of just eight or nine years old calling her name. Abish didn’t know the girl. “I am Abish. Is something wrong with the queen?”

The child was breathless and sweating. “I was sent; she did not make it to the palace before her labors began. She is staying with a family in the city. You must come now.”

“Of course.”

Abish took just a moment to look back at her brother who smiled lightly, “When I last I saw you, you were but a child. And now it seems that you are the queen’s most important friend. You have much to tell me.”

Abish smiled in return, “There is time; I will come back.”

Leonti nodded, “I will be here. There is no where else for me to be.”

She leaned up and kissed his cheeks while she held his arms, the solid feel of family in her hands was almost more than she could bear and her eyes watered. As she turned back to follow the child she prayed that God had still another miracle to perform this day. Zaria’s ordeal was far from over.

For some time she ran through the streets with the girl and darkness began to settle in the city. Abish was fearful they would not find the house in time. With nothing more than a child to lead her, the anxiety she felt intensified.

The little girl stopped abruptly at a well, “I must drink,” she said. Abish nodded, waiting her turn at the dipper as the girl drew water. She was panting heavily and the exhaustion she had fought for days began to sink in; the bread she had forgotten to eat suddenly seemed like a feast. Her legs felt like lead and she hoped they were close. After she drank, the girl said in a steady voice, “Do not worry, sister, God is guiding us. He knows that our people are in desperate need of something wonderful. This boy-child will come to take his father’s place.”

For years it had been Abish’s fondest wish to be surrounded by faith; now, on the day when she most wanted to escape it, she could not. Abish smiled slightly, disbelieving, “Are you a prophet?”

The girl laughed, her great brown eyes dancing, “No. But Aaron is the Lord’s messenger. I have brought you his message.”

Without expecting it, Abish felt a great surge of energy grow inside. “We must run then; the queen needs us.”

Within minutes they arrived at the home Zaria had been taken to. The energy Abish had felt at the well did not leave and she was able to get the household quickly organized. There was a mother and two older daughters in the house—their father had died, along with an older brother. Although she said little, Abish suspected the oldest daughter had lost a sweetheart as well. Despite their loss, the women were eager to help. Abish knew that staying busy would help them to put aside difficult memories, if only for a night, so she put each of them to work. Aaron sent the soldiers back to their camp, but he stayed to give Zaria a blessing and keep vigil. The weak glow in her heart grew stronger as she heard Aaron’s blessing. For the first time in days, Abish found herself on her knees during that long night, pleading with the Lord to overlook her lack of faith and bless Zaria for her sacrifice of this week.

It had been many, many years since Zaria’s last baby and her body acted as though this was the first time. The labor was slow and difficult. But in the early dawn, a very tiny baby boy drew his first breaths. When he was cleaned and handed to his mother, Abish sank to the floor, exhausted and hungry. She fell into a deep sleep.

She dreamed of weddings: hundreds of Ammonite women paraded past her dressed splendidly to meet their bridegrooms, all of whom seemed to be Lamanite soldiers. Her brother included. The women were of all ages, and Abish recognized many of them. The procession was glorious and there was talking and laughter and joy. As she looked closer, she realized that most of the women were holding babies—all boys.

When Abish awoke she was disoriented. It took her a moment to get her bearings. She was in the palace, in her very own bedroom. For several seconds she looked at the ceiling wondering if the events of recent days had merely been a dream. Then she heard a baby cry. A young baby, almost like a cat. Zaria’s baby. She also realized that her clothes were filthy and stinking. The emptiness in her stomach made her ache and the horrors she’d seen suddenly rushed back.

She sat up slowly, trying to clear her head of sleep and wondering how long she had slept. How long since she had collapsed on the floor of the room where the baby was born? And who had brought her here? The baby’s cries subsided almost as soon as they had begun; undoubtedly, a nurse had been found.

Abish knew she still had many responsibilities. She knew that she should get something quick to eat and go straight back to work, but she also knew that more than anything in the world, at that moment, she wanted a bath. Casting aside everything that told her the extravagance was too much, she headed to the kitchen to draw and heat the water herself.

By the time she sunk into her half full, tepid tub, she was shaking from the effort of hauling the water from the kitchen, but she relaxed almost immediately, savoring the delicious feel of the water working at the grime pasted to her skin. Even in her weakness, she scrubbed and scrubbed until the water was dark and her skin was nearly red. She hugged the thick towel around herself as she came out of the tub, consciously grateful that her body was still her own and that she was alive. A glimmer of peace seeped into her soul and though she knew many more tears would be shed before she felt healed, maybe she would be happy again.

Willing herself to get dressed and begin a new day, Abish went in search of the queen. Zaria greeted her warmly, but stayed in bed. “How are you my friend?”

“Hungry.”

Zaria laughed lightly, but the laughter did not touch her eyes. “I’m sure. Little Lamoni was born early yesterday morning. You have slept more than a full day.”

“And how is baby?”

“Hungry.”

It was Abish’s turn to laugh, and it felt good. A baby born early sometimes failed to thrive because it was so exhausting to eat. They would fall asleep every time they tried. Hungry was a good sign. It meant that he would fight. All of this flashed through Abish’s mind as she excused herself to find some food. As she walked into the main room she thought of the laughter she had just shared with her friend. It was the first time in weeks that it had been true laughter, momentary joy with no trace of bitterness or sarcasm. The conversion of thousands of soldiers, being reunited with her brother and Zaria’s healthy baby were all momentous and wonderful events. But maybe the real miracle was the change she felt at that moment in her heart. If her heart could heal, maybe the others could too. She stopped abruptly in the hallway to take a moment to thank her Father in Heaven for the birth of Lamoni’s son.

Chapter 22: Preparation for War

2009-05-07T12:22:00.000-07:00

“I can’t see why they don’t just write to the Nephites and seek asylum. I know it would be a lot of pride to swallow, but the situation here is getting intolerable.” Abish said to the queen as she played a clapping game with Sariah. Abish had been gone for several weeks into the land of Midian. She had gone there to deliver a baby and decided she would try to find her mother while she was at it. It had taken many years to decide that she even wanted to try. She and Zaria had not spoken of the results of Abish’s trip yet; it was plain to see that heavy things weighed on the queen’s mind.

The church was in its ninth year now in the lands of Nephi and while new converts weren’t as frequent as they once had been, the list of enemies seemed to grow daily. Believers had flocked to the cities of Ishamel, Midian and Middoni—the more western parts of the land where it was safer. The problem was the city still the most resistant to any missionary work was Jerusalem, right in the center of all Lamanite holdings. The city still recognized King Lamoni-hah as their leader, but the status quo wouldn’t last much longer. Most of Lamoni’s family had been converted to the gospel and when his father passed, Abish did not think the Amulonites, Amelekites and unconverted Lamanites would not allow a peaceful transition to one of the converted kings.

The problem of these refugees was weighing heavily on Zaria. She turned from her window with a sigh, “I think going to Nephite lands is for the best too, but Lamoni and the other kings seem very reluctant.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “Lamoni told me, not long ago, that he believes migrating to the Nephites will be our ultimate destiny, but he believes the work is not done here. Neither do Ammon or his brothers. Just three weeks ago Ammon said at dinner, ‘The Lord tells me there is to be one more round of converts.’ He had that look about him that he gets sometimes; it is just something you don’t argue with, you know?”

Abish nodded, she knew that look well, though it had been some months since she had spoken with Ammon. He was always busy. She missed the spontaneous way he used to follow her to her night visits, and couldn’t remember the last time his strong hands had been there to give a blessing of healing or comfort or strength. It was true that Himni still made a point of seeking her out and often accompanied her when he was in the city. She had come to depend on his steady and compassionate presence almost as much as she enjoyed Ammon’s charm and vivacity. Lately, there had been times she had wondered if he . . . “Aunt Abish! Pay attention!” Sariah chided, as only a nine year-old could.

“I’m sorry, Princess. I’ll try harder.” Abish said rather absently, but did make a note of concentrating harder on the next round.

A few minutes later, Sariah became bored and scooted off to other amusements. Abish sat near the queen. “You have much to worry about these days, my friend.”

Zaria managed a wan smile, “I do indeed, but it shouldn’t make me too busy to talk to you about what is really on your mind. Now, tell me about your search for your mother.”

Abish began slowly as she told her story. She willed the words to come out, knowing she had skipped her unpacking for the very purpose of seeing her friend, yet at the same time reluctant to tell the truth. Abish described looking for her mother, and how difficult such a thing was. Finally, on nearly the last day she had given herself to look, she found a lead. It took Abish to her aunt, who was very elderly. “She looked vaguely like my mother, although my memory there is probably not very accurate either. I asked her where my mother was living.”

“And what did she say?”

“She died. Less than a year ago.”

“Oh Abish.” Zaria’s eyes were pained, but Abish was just empty inside. She had shed many of her own tears in the last several days.

“She had joined the church. My aunt said that she had changed a lot in recent years—that the gospel had been good to her. She never stopped believing I was alive. When she joined the church, she recognized the message of my father’s she had rejected so many years before and regretted deeply the choices she made that week.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I took me so long to forgive her. I waited because I didn’t want to hate her when I stood before her again. And now it is too late. I will never even know her—not who she became.”

“Not in this life you won’t. We all make mistakes, don’t we? I think God will let us work through some of those in the eternities. Maybe, even now, she is up there with your father, and all bad feeling between them has passed.” The tears she didn’t think were left welled up again at Zaria’s tender words, and she nodded numbly. She had spent many days hoping for that very thing. There was silence for a few moments and then Zaria said, “Did your aunt know anything of your siblings?”

“No. Years ago my mother tried to contact my sister, but no luck. The last she knew is that she had moved far away, into the city of Helam.”

“Not good.”

“No kidding.” Helam had become one of the most antagonistic cities. They were right on the border with the Nephites and absorbed lots of dissenters. They were one of the cities thought to be in collusion with Jerusalem against the Anti-Nephi-Lehies. “And my brother was in contact with my mother until she became an adherent to the gospel. He cut off all contact with her. The last my aunt knew, he was in Shilom.” Shilom wasn’t much better, as it lay between Helam and Jerusalem. Most of the converts from that city had fled to Midian. Abish nodded, “And I, the one she always disliked, could have been her greatest source of comfort in her old age. Just like all of our ancestors who’ve ever lived in this land, I too will pay the price for my pride. Now I am truly alone.”

Zaria said nothing, just embraced her. She knew what it was to spend a lifetime separated from family, who were more like strangers than part of your past. “You have us.”

Abish nodded, “I appreciate that. The last couple of weeks have taught me just how much I have to learn.” She sighed, “I also lost two babies in Midian, and one mother.”

“A difficult trip.”

“The worst I have had in a long time. I probably should go now. A good rest is what I need.”

Zaria smiled, “But I know you and that is probably the last thing you will get.” Abish smiled wanly, gathered her few belongings and stood to go. As she was leaving, Zaria said, “What I would really wish for you, friend, was that after a long journey there was someone to go home to.”

Abish nodded slowly, “You know, today I really wish the same thing. But I have to live in this reality, and remind myself that it isn’t a bad life, it is just . . .”

“Incomplete?”

“At times.” Zaria nodded understandingly. She had been praying for another child for many, many years, but none had come. She watched as Sariah grew up, essentially alone with only step-siblings many years her senior, and her heart ached. By this time in her life, she had hoped to be surrounded by children. And although he loved her too much to say it, Abish knew Lamoni wanted the same, particularly an heir. Abish read all this in her friend’s eyes and the women embraced, not needing to say more.

Months later, a council of kings over the Anti-Nephi-Lehies was called. The gathering was held at Lamoni’s palace, and although it had been many years since she had worked there, Abish volunteered to help. There was much to be done. The first several days were full of feasting and festivities. It was, after all, a family reunion for Lamoni. Many wives and children had traveled with these men, even though the chief object was business. The palace was filled to overflowing.

Ammon and his brothers also sat in the council, though they would only advise and not vote. Abish was not allowed into the chambers, of course, but the palace was rife with gossip, and within minutes of any break in the meeting the rumors flew. Abish ignored it; she knew if there was anything important then Zaria would tell her.

The old king also came to the meeting as well. With her healer’s eyes, Abish could see he was in poor health, and privately wondered at the wisdom of the journey. Still, he did seem genuinely happy to be in the company of his sons. Abish had taken time from one of her busy days to sit in the queen’s garden she had always loved so much. It looked like it might rain later in the afternoon and it was a cool day. She took advantage of the break in the weather to enjoy some quiet.

As she walked, she was startled to see Aaron. She had thought herself alone. Besides, she had lately begun to think of Ammon and his brothers as a unit, they were so often together. He apologized for intruding on her solitude. She waved off his apology, “It is good to see a familiar face among so many unfamiliar ones in this city as of late.”

His smile flashed, as brilliant as only the sons of Mosiah could smile. “It is true. We travel so much and meet so many people, they all run together. It is good to take time to converse with those who were here in the beginning.”

Abish nodded and said, “No meetings today?”

“Yes, but we took a break to eat. I feel like all we have done for a week is sit and eat, sit and eat; I begged off this meal to get some fresh air.”

“Not a bad idea. It is nice out here this morning.”

“Yes.” They walked in companionable silence for several more minutes. Abish could see there was something on Aaron’s mind, and she wondered if she would press. It soon became apparent she would not need to. “No doubt you’ll hear later in the day anyway, but unless you hear it from somebody who was there, you might not believe it.”

“What happened?”

“Lamoni-hah is dying. He has conferred the kingship to Antiomno. Apparently, there is an old Lamanite tradition that when this happens, the king takes a new name. Antiomno will now be known as Anti-Nephi-Lehi.”

Abish marveled, “Who would have thought that the king of Middoni would one day lead this people with the name of a convert?”

Aaron smiled, “Not I. If Ammon had been just a couple of hours later that day to Middoni, this whole thing would have gone very differently for me.”

Abish laughed, “I had nearly forgotten, but I’m sure you never will.”

“It is amazing the goodness that grows among people after their hearts change.”

“Yes.” There was silence again for a few minutes. “I bet Zaria is glad Lamoni was not named.”

“I am sure. The new king will have a very difficult situation on his hands.”

“It is not a job anyone would envy. Do you think Antiomno is up to the task?”

Aaron shrugged. “Nobody knows; the situation grows more and more unbearable all the time. I don’t know if anybody is up to the task. It is in God’s hands now.”

“Will any decisions be made this week?”

“I think not. The threat is vague, although with a new king it could get more specific very fast. This council will meet again in six months, or sooner if Lamoni-hah dies and our enemies become bold.”

“What can be done?” Abish stopped and looked Aaron fully in the face.

Aaron looked at her for a long moment. “I don’t know. But I think . . .” he trailed off, unsure if he should say more, but finished anyway, “I think these men will be reluctant to take up arms, even against their enemies. These are men who committed unspeakable horrors before their conversions. They see every minute of their lives right now as the greatest second chance of all time. They are terrified of jeopardizing their salvation.”

Abish’s thoughts raced, “So what will that mean?”

Aaron shook his head, “I don’t know, my lady, I don’t know.”

After a pause, Abish said, “It is in God’s hands now.” Abish’s words were said with more resignation than faith, but Aaron didn’t pick up on her tone and just nodded. Minutes later he returned for afternoon meetings, leaving Abish alone in the garden with her thoughts.

Although it seemed the palace was hardly cleared of its guests before the council convened again, it had actually been almost a year. Lamoni’s father lingered in life much longer than expected, and for a time it seemed their enemies would be silent. But when Antiomno was made king, a formal declaration of war came against the Anti-Nephi-Lehies. Despite the king being at Middoni, the threat was directed at Ishmael. It was closest to Jerusalem, the largest city, and the heart of those who believed in Christ. It was unknown when the attack would come, but the kings convened anyway in Ishmael to make some definite decisions. Abish again stepped in to help, not so much because it was needed this time—the group was smaller and more serious, families having been left at home—but because Zaria had begged Abish to move back into the palace. Abish acquiesced with little argument. She knew that it would be safer; and, with the refugees in the city, her comfortable house could be given to two families. She had her few possessions sent to the palace and said goodbye to the small home where she had learned to be self-reliant, to be herself.

After moving into the palace, she learned the real reason Zaria had wanted her to come. She was with child. She had hidden it well from Abish whose practiced eye told her that Zaria was probably only four months from delivery. Zaria needed her friend’s calming influence to keep the baby from coming early.

The whole palace, the whole city, was tense with waiting for the council’s decision. The meetings were closed and secret. Even Zaria had no idea what went on in those chambers. All Abish had to go on was what Aaron had told her the year before. From the grim looks on the faces of the men involved, she knew it could not be good. Himni and Ammon both avoided her eyes completely when she tried to look at them. What was happening?

On the fourth day of meetings, Abish went to bed, but sleep eluded her for a long time until she finally fell into fitful and disjointed dreams. She saw the beautiful courtyard and gardens behind Lamoni’s house littered with dead and dying people. She seemed to be the only one well as she walked from body to body with a single tiny rag to mop up all the blood. She screamed continually for help or water or anything to stop the bleeding, but no one came. She was alone in a sea of death.

She awoke to the vague memory of a horrible nightmare and heard crying. She immediately rushed into Zaria’s chamber. The queen sat on the edge of her bed, sobbing. She was all alone. “Zaria?” Abish said softly to not startle her friend. She turned suddenly and Abish could see that the tears were not fresh. “What has happened?” Abish was in shock to see her friend in such an emotional state.

“The council has decided.”

Abish’s heart sunk. “Oh?”

“They have made many grand speeches and borne solemn testimony and they have decided they will risk death rather than take up arms against their brothers. In fact, today there will be a great show of the burial of weapons as a covenant to God that they are new creatures, that they will never again be the instruments of death.” She spat the words out bitterly through her tears.

Abish’s dream suddenly came back to her vividly as a vision of what would be. “We must flee the city.”

Zaria shook her head. “No. They will not. They will march to the plain, unarmed, when the army comes, and bow themselves before God and leave the rest in His hands.”

“This is madness,” Abish whispered. She felt exactly as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped on her head.

“Oh, Abish, how can women have faith when men make such decisions?” Abish sat down hard on the bed next to her and absently patted the queen’s arm, too numb to shed tears of her own. Even as the queen’s tears flowed, unabated, Abish knew her friend would somehow pull herself together to appear at her husband’s side that morning as he made his announcement. And while she might privately speak to her husband of the decision and plead for understanding, publicly she would never disagree with him.

But Abish wasn’t a queen; she could disagree. Ammon. She had to find Ammon. Surely, if there was one person who could be made to understand—one person with any power she had some pull with—it was Ammon. She hardly knew where to look and so she counted herself lucky when she found him just outside the servants’ quarters.

“Hello, Abish.” His tone was pleasant enough, but she was struck by something in his eyes she hadn’t seen before—a world weariness, a tiredness. As she looked at him closely, she realized it had been some time since she had been in such close proximity to him. The years were finally taken their toll: Ammon was no longer a young man.

“Ammon! I was looking for you; I must speak to you about something.”

The urgency in her tone was impossible to disguise and Ammon, ever the one with quick discernment, said, “Queen Zaria has told you of the Council’s decision.” His tone was resigned and the weariness surrounding him became more pronounced.

“This cannot happen; surely you must see the folly of their decision.”

Instantly some of the fire was back. “Folly?”

“Have they even considered what will happen if God chooses not to intervene? What will become of the women and children left in the city when their men are slaughtered out there?”

“Maybe God will intervene.”

Abish looked closely at him. “I have heard you prophesy many times, Ammon. But at this moment, your words are said with no conviction. God has given no promise.”

His anguish was powerful and emotion clogged his voice, “Am I always to know what God will do? You are no different than they are! All week they have spoken of their unwillingness to lift a weapon ever again. And time and again, they would look to my brothers and I for some sign, some affirmation, that God would protect them. But there was nothing! No impression, no indication.”

“Then how can they believe what they are doing is right?”

“I didn’t say we had no reassurance about that.

“What?”

“The decision to not take up arms has been fasted and prayed about by some of the most faithful and spiritual men I have ever known, and their hearts tell them it is the right thing to do. That doesn’t mean they may not give up their lives to keep their commitment.”

“Then they mustn’t do it.”

“You cannot know the depravity some of these men have given up. I believe, as they do, that their very souls will be in jeopardy if they even consider a fight.”

Abish was shocked into raising her voice to a near shout, “I cannot know the depravity! You, Prince, speak of something you have only heard about. Did you watch your father brutally murdered to appease a pagan god when you were a child? You have no idea what monstrosities evil men are capable of. The men who sold me into slavery, raped the next girl they kidnapped. They didn’t take me because I was too young and awkward. I will never forget the look on that girl’s face or the horror I felt seeing the bruises covering her thighs and arms.”

Abish paused for breath and she knew she was hurting Ammon but she didn’t care. His eyes were filled with tears and she pushed on, “I have been in the homes of these people too. I have seen what a man with no conversion and no conscience can do to a woman. Just three weeks ago, I was delivering a baby in a home where a father, heavy with wine, burst into the room, just as a girl baby was pulled from a weeping mother. He slapped the infant across the face before her cord was even cut. He had wanted a boy. The girl’s neck was twisted in such a way that I don’t know if she’ll ever be normal. Just last night I delivered an unmarried girl who could not have been more than twelve years old. From the way her father hovered, there is no question he is more closely related to her newborn son than any grandfather should be.”

“Stop, Abish.”

“Stop!? How dare you tell me that I do not understand the depravity these men have given up? I have seen it. I know it, firsthand. Shirking the responsibility to fight will loose that depravity on this city—on these women, and their children. If you think merely facing death is cause for fear, then pause for one minute to think of the fear that will reign in these homes. Losing a husband is nothing compared to everything else that will surely be taken. You want me to stop? Have these men stopped to think?”

Ammon’s nearly hissed, “Of course they have! Do you think they haven’t lain awake nights pleading with the Lord to soften the hearts of their enemies? To help them find a way to break this terrible news to their wives? How can you suggest the women have been forgotten?”

“My father made his choice to follow the Lord with little question of what would happen to my mother and I.”

“It has worked out all right for you.”

“I was lucky.”

“You were blessed.” Ammon insisted.

Abish could not deny it. “I was blessed, but I think this situation is different. And in my father’s case; I chose to stay behind and watch him die. These women here will have no choice, no where to flee that is not in harm’s way.”

“All I can tell you is to pray for faith. There is nothing I can do to affect the decision. Lamoni is already on his way to the square to make his announcement.”

“Then go, run, stop him. He will listen to you.”

“Abish, how can I help you see that I have no wish to stop him?” He reached his hand out and placed it on her arm.

She gripped his arms too, “How can you? How can you do this? How can you understand without a wife to love and children of your own? If any man who buries a weapon out there today ever really loved a wife or daughter, how can he not stand to defend them?” She knew there was no logic that could stand up to his faith, so she pleaded instead, trying desperately to appeal to his emotions.

Instead, his face became immediately impassive and his voice went very low, “It is a cruel woman indeed who uses a man’s love against him at such a time.”

Abish recoiled as if she’d been slapped. She could say nothing, and Ammon swept past her in the hall on the way to the outside of the palace. He would go to the square and stand shoulder to shoulder with his friend and with the other men who would make the most important covenant of their lives. The women would be left outside the circle to watch as their hope for the future was buried as surely as the weapons.

She could not go; she fled to her room, numb and sick at heart. The queen was gone. Abish hit her knees, but no words would come. Even when they did, several minutes later, they were angry. She could find no comfort and no answers.

Chapter 21: Religious Freedom in Seven Lands

2009-04-28T07:59:00.000-07:00

Falana birthed a healthy and beautiful son after a difficult labor. Abish stayed on for many weeks, hovering anxiously over each roll of fat the baby gained and any discomfort the princess might express. To Abish’s great delight, Falana hardly let the little man leave her side and the new prince’s nurse had very little to do but sit and wait for Falana to eat or bathe.

Though she still missed Ammon himself, his brothers were a welcome addition to her limited circle of friends in Nephi and the baptisms numbered in the hundreds before it was time for her to leave. Once again, she enjoyed being involved in the work of the Lord, and became almost as happy as she had in the land of Ishamel.

A few days before her departure, King Lamoni-hah declared religious freedom in all Lamanite lands. Missionaries would soon have free passage anywhere they wanted to go. Care would still have to be taken in the wilder and more hostile parts of the land, but the Church was now free to grow. Abish was no prophetess, but her heart burned every time she thought about future possibilities.

Finally, after many months away, she said her goodbyes and turned her eyes homeward. Despite the long journey, the men who accompanied her were cheerful as they spoke of wives and sweethearts. Abish carried messages for Ammon. She was anxious to see him again, too anxious. She hoped their meeting would not fan the flames of her initial attraction to him. He was focused on his work and undoubtedly saw her as nothing more than a good friend. After all, weren’t his brothers both shocked to see how young she was? Whatever Ammon had said about her, it was nothing to make them think she was a potential wife.

After some days of travel, the landscape became familiar. Abish had delivered babies this far from the city and knew they were only within a day or two of the palace. The next day, the group decided to press on quickly and arrive late at night. Their late arrival meant there was no one to receive them. Abish was mildly disappointed, but told the men to join her for a late supper in the kitchen when the animals were put away. They heartily agreed.

As expected, there was plenty of food stocked in Lamoni’s house. Her hastily prepared meal would be simple, but filling. She heated water on the hearth for strong tea, cut and wrapped a large squash in corn husks to roast in the covered embers from the day’s cooking. She began rolling out corn cakes for frying and was humming to herself when she heard someone enter the kitchen. Rather than turning, she said, “Just sit anywhere. The food will be ready in a few minutes.” Abish continued her soft humming but worked with greater speed. She was surprised at the efficiency with which the animals had been put away. After a few minutes, she realized that nobody else had joined the first, or if they had they were very quiet and unconversant. She turned to see how many were there and cried out in surprise.

The man at the table looked equally surprised and stammered, “You said to sit—so I did.”

He had to be the fourth brother. In many ways he was so like Ammon it was uncanny. His hair and skin were nearly exactly the same color as his older brother’s. His features were the same too, but more guarded. His eyes were equally intense, but not blue. Or were they? There was something strange about them she couldn’t quite put her finger on, and it was hard to tell because he didn’t look at her directly.

Realizing she was staring, Abish stammered back, “You must be Himni.” The heart, Ammon had called him.

He bowed his head, “I am.”

“I am Abish.”

He nodded and even in the dim light she could see him blush, “You’re younger than I had expected.”

Abish couldn’t help but laugh right out loud, “I get a lot of that.”

Himni smiled and in that brief moment he looked almost exactly like Ammon, except for the way he held his head cocked slightly. The moment passed quickly and she could see that his smiles were rarer than his brother’s. “The queen thought you would arrive tomorrow.” He said.

“We pressed ahead. We’ve only been in just a few minutes—too late to wake anybody, but too early to go to bed hungry.”

“You are cooking for more than yourself,” he observed.

“Yes, my escort has kept a diligent pace these many days and we are all hungry.”

“Surely there are servants who can help . . .”

Abish smiled, “But since being converted the gospel, Lamoni gave all of his slaves their freedom and only a few stayed behind as hired help. So really, there is no one. Besides, like all Lamanite girls I have been doing this kind of work since I was a small child. This is second nature.”

“Like delivering babies?” He raised his eyebrows; she wasn’t sure he was teasing or not, but his remark struck her as funny and she laughed again.

“I wish delivering babies was as easy as making corn cakes!” As she said this, she handed him a plate of hot ones. She liked the way he devoured the stack, and turned away while he ate.

She continued working, trying to estimate how much food she’d need for eight, no nine, hungry men. Himni interrupted her counting, “I have often marveled at the multitude of skills women possess.”

“How so?”

He waved his hand in the air, “Men hunt or grow crops and argue over how to run kingdoms. I sometimes think they should ask the ones who know how to do everything else the best way that it should be done.”

Abish laughed again. She didn’t know why. His comments were sincere and kind, not funny, but she felt relaxed and happy around him. “Perhaps that is so, Himni, but since it is not a question we can ever answer tonight, would you like more food?”

“That would be excellent, actually.” She loaded his plate as he added, “I couldn’t sleep tonight; we have lived out of doors for so long that this easy palace living is making me soft and restless. As I wandered the halls tonight I smelled something wonderful and decided to follow my nose.” He bit into another stack of her corn cakes and said as he swallowed, “Is that tea ready?”

She smiled brightly, “Just now.”

As she said these words, the others filled the room. Abish quickly introduced Himni to the soldiers and, seeing there was plenty for everyone to eat, dismissed herself wordlessly. Despite the recently relaxed protocol as of late, it still was not seemly or comfortable to eat with a large group of men. Besides, she felt the odd sense that her pleasant conversation with Himni had been somehow ruined, for all that she knew the others better. She slipped out quietly, turning to look into the kitchen as she walked out the door, thinking to see Himni’s back. Instead, he was looking at her directly with his strange eyes. There was no expression on his face, but he flushed and turned quickly away when she caught him looking.

It was well after midnight when Abish finally went to bed and sleep came immediately. She found herself in the middle of a very odd dream. She was walking through the woods when she approached two pools of water. Without hesitation she dove, clothing and all, into the first though it seemed almost muddy in appearance. As she dove, she realized the pond wasn’t actually brown, and there seemed to be a light radiating from the bottom, which gave the pond a kind of an amber color. Swimming in the pond filled her with inexplicable energy and joy that pulsated through her whole body. Just as she adjusted to this new, heightened awareness, she climbed from the pool and dove into the second. Again, as she swam, she realized the pond wasn’t brown at all, but actually green, although she couldn’t tell the source of it. This second pond gave her an overwhelming feeling of peace and relaxation. She closed her eyes and sank under the cool water.

She awoke suddenly, with a start, gasping for breath. She couldn’t erase the vividness of the dream from her consciousness. She tried to sleep again, but was too agitated. She stood and splashed water on her face, trying to make sense of it. Since her baptism, she had often dreamed of water, but never like this. She rubbed her eyes for a moment, and as she did so, she felt the flush spread through her face. The reason Himni’s direct gaze had so disconcerted her was suddenly apparent—his eyes were exactly the same color as the ponds she’d been swimming in.

Abish greatly enjoyed the independence of her new life as she moved into a small home not far from the palace. As the missionary work spread, her circle of friends broadened. Over the next couple of years, Ammon and his brothers came and went as they preached in the seven lands. Jerusalem was the eighth, but there were no converts there. If anything, hostilities increased. Zaria ruefully joked that she was the only Amalekite who would ever be converted. Still, she didn’t seem too sorry to put distance between herself and her family. Despite the love she and Lamoni now shared, she could never quite forget that her father had given her to a man he knew nothing about merely to seal a political alliance.

The kings in the faithful lands organized a council that met regularly. They decided to begin calling themselves, officially, the Anti-Nephi-Lehies in order to separate themselves from their more bloodthirsty relatives. The people, however, often referred to themselves as the Ammonites. Abish knew the name made her friend uncomfortable, and he was glad they had officially decided on something else, even if it was seldom used.

As grateful as Abish was to no longer be considered a Lamanite, she knew such a move would anger those who were hostile to them. In addition, correspondence had been opened with the Nephites. Ammon’s old friend, Alma, was the head of their government there, and he explained in a letter that a new group had risen up and had broken away from the Nephites. They called themselves Amlicites and marked themselves red on the forehead to distinguish themselves from Nephites. It was feared they had opened negotiations with the hostile Lamanites. Abish was aware of all of this. She knew it worried Lamoni a great deal, but such dealings seemed far removed from the happy, peaceful life she knew during those years in Ishmael.

And so, for a long time, the adventures in Abish’s life seemed to be at an end. The sons of Mosiah became famous through the land until those early events surrounding their coming almost became the stuff of legend. Though they were very busy and often far away, when they were in Lamoni’s city, Abish would occasionally have the companionship of Ammon on her night visits. Himni, Ammon’s near-constant companion, would come too and hover near the margins, anxious to help and listen while his elder brother ministered and spoke. Abish couldn’t deny that births went better when this splendid pair of missionaries came with her. Ammon’s energy was boundless and Himni brought a spirit of love and compassion to each visit.

Abish looked forward to her rare times with Ammon more than she’d dared express to anyone, even her closest friends. But talk had begun. The women in the palace and the marketplace whispered that Ammon and his handsome brothers could not stay single forever. Didn’t it seem that they would stay in this land always? They must marry. Abish heard these things and kept very quiet. She had been there the day Ammon as good as pledged a lifetime of service to Lamoni. Still, the women had a point; surely God didn’t intend for these righteous men to stay single for the rest of their lives.

Abish’s twentieth birthday came after a three-day stint of delivering babies non-stop. She’d had little time to reflect on the tenth anniversary of the time her life changed for good, but took a moment to remember the significant details from that week in her life. Twenty also gave her great pause. She’d never met a Lamanite woman married in her twenties before. At least not a first marriage. As she swaddled her fifth new baby in three days, she couldn’t help thinking she would never do this for her own babies. The thought made her despondent and despite her exhaustion, she spent some time in prayer before trying to sleep when she returned to her home. The desired peace didn’t come. When she lay down, all she could think is that Ammon had gone away again, for at least two months, to meet with Lamoni’s father and some of the priesthood in the Land of Nephi. She stilled her breaths, willing the image of his handsome face from her mind.

There was a clap at the door. Surprised, Abish rose to see Himni waiting at the entrance to her home. He generally always followed Ammon on his journeys, long or short. She smiled broadly at him. He seemed nervous, perhaps because he was by himself, though they had shared many wonderful conversations together, “Yes, Himni?”

“I know you have delivered many babies these past days, and I’m sorry to disturb you.”

She wasn’t sure how he knew this, but said, “That is no matter. What do you need?”

“One of Lamoni’s household needs you.”

“Tika?” He nodded, and Abish frowned. Tika was early and had not been doing well the last couple of weeks. Abish had feared something like this. She sighed, “I will come as soon as possible. I just need to gather a few things.”

“I’ll wait.”

She prepared quickly and Himni offered to carry her basket of things. She carried a second, smaller one. There were things she had for the queen and would take advantage of the extra set of arms. They said little as they hurried toward the palace, though the silence was not uncomfortable.

Himni looked at her sideways, “Everything is a little duller without Ammon around.”

Abish laughed, “Yes, perhaps it is.”

There was more silence and Himni cleared his throat before announcing. “Omner is engaged to be married.” Abish stopped in her tracks and dropped her basket, so great was her shock. Himni stopped with her and bent over to help her recover the items that had fallen into the road. He quickly gathered them and took her basket on top of the larger one he carried. Abish flushed, murmured her thanks and stood. Himni looked mildly distressed, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No, of course not . . . I just . . .” Abish trailed off, not knowing what to say.

“I’m sure it will come as a shock to many. We ourselves were not sure if such a thing would happen, but we have been in this land many years.”

“And may stay many years yet.”

“Exactly. We are beginning to feel less and less like foreigners. Perhaps it is time to settle.”

Abish fought for calm and tried to sound casual, “So are you or your other brothers thinking of settling?”

Himni glanced sideways at her again, “There are no plans, as of yet, but Omner’s decision has gotten the rest of us thinking.”

Abish swallowed hard, biting back more questions, particularly those that would be about Ammon. Little more was said for the rest of the trip and Abish hardly noted when Himni left her side with a polite farewell. She told herself to focus on the task ahead and not think about what Omner’s wedding might mean for anyone else but himself.

Omner’s wife was a good and righteous woman named Tisha from the land of Middoni. She was not young, and it was likely that many people had thought she was past a proper marrying age. Abish was immediately impressed with her strength and wisdom. She would be the kind of woman who could work alongside her chosen husband with little complaint or murmuring. On the rare occasions Abish had a chance to observe them, she could see that they said little, but seemed to communicate in a way that was beyond words: understanding one another soul to soul. As she watched Omner over the next months with his new bride, she knew that for all of Ammon’s friendship and their history together, he had never looked at her with such tenderness.

Chapter 20: All His Kingdom

2009-04-22T12:34:00.000-07:00

Abish and Zaria anxiously awaited the return of the men, though for different reasons. Zaria carried all the concern of a devoted wife for her husband’s safety; Abish was frustrated over the stagnation she already saw in the Church. The band of converts was trying, but Ammon had only left a small group of priesthood holders in his stead and the organization was tenuous at best. Word had been sent via messenger that Ammon’s brethren had indeed been saved, but they were weak and waiting to travel.

As they waited, an unexpected messenger from Queen Vitria came for Abish. The message summoned her far north, to the land of Nephi were Lamoni spent his childhood. Zaria’s sister-in-law had a baby due in a couple of months. Unlike her brothers, she did not inherit any land and so lived with her husband in her father’s palace. Before sending any reply, Abish sought Zaria’s advice and friendship.

The queen too was incredulous, “Falana is her only daughter. Lamoni has many brothers. I believe this daughter has always been special to Vitria and Lamoni-hah.”

Abish sighed. “It is a long journey. And who knows how long I’ll be there? Surely there must be a midwife in the Land of Nephi.”

The queen laughed, “But not one who has never lost a mother.”

Abish snorted at the ridiculous rumor, “I’ve lost mothers too. And babies.”

“Not many, friend. Sometimes people just need something to believe in.”

“But it isn’t real faith if the thing isn’t true.”

Zaria shrugged, “That might be the case, but a woman in labor will take even false hope if she finds something to hang on to.”

Abish fought the urge to sigh, “I will go.”

“It is probably best. Perhaps you will help to heal the rift I have caused between the house of Lamoni-hah and his son.”

“I think I’ll have better luck delivering a healthy baby!” She laughed.

Zaria laughed too and then suddenly grew somber. “There is one more thing I feel I must tell you so that you know what you are getting into.”

“Oh?”

“This is Falana’s fifth pregnancy, but she has no children. The first she lost after many months, the second was strangled by his cord, the third was a still born, and the fourth died of fever three days after birth.”

Abish felt the color drain from her face and legs weaken slightly. “No pressure.”

“You are the midwife to a queen. There will always be pressure.”

Her journey was uneventful, but her arrival at the palace was not comforting. While unbearable, Abish only had to endure Queen Vitria’s condescension and rudeness in small doses. The real problem was Falana. After just a few days, Abish feared that two more months of Falana’s near hysterics would put her over the edge. She could see that the only approach was to be completely in charge, so she organized Falana’s room and immediately put her on a soothing regimen of herbs. Drugging her mothers was not her favorite approach, but the princess’s stress would certainly bring her labor early, a thing that would likely spell disaster for mother and baby, and, Abish had to admit ruefully, herself.

Abish’s life was little better than a slave in the land of Nephi. She was not allowed to leave Falana’s side for more than a couple of hours at a time. The only other babies she delivered were of noble women who were brought to the palace. Abish missed working with the common women that had become such an integral part of the work she normally did. While she was better paid for her work in Nephi, she was dismayed to see how frequently the babies were passed off with disdain to nurses before mothers even held them.

The one redeeming bright spot in all these weeks, was that once Abish was able to soothe many of Falana’s fears, she could see that Lamoni’s sister actually wanted to have children. She had always enjoyed growing up with her many brothers and cousins and wanted the same for her children. As Abish came to know her, she saw that, like Lamoni, she was fair-minded and treated those around her with fairness. Abish learned that Falana was sorrowful over the recent estrangement between her father’s and Lamoni’s houses.

Then one day she learned something that gave her greater interest than anything that had happened so far in the Land of Nephi. One of Falana’s servants brought the breathless news. “Princess, some Nephites have come to the palace.”

Abish’s ears pricked almost immediately. Had Ammon and Lamoni finally made the journey? Falana replied, “Is my brother with them?”

She shook her head, “No ma’am. In fact, your father seemed displeased about that. And these Nephites are not the same as the one your father met.”

“There are more of them?”

Abish cleared her throat, “I believe, your highness, that some of these men may be the brothers of Ammon—the one your father met.”

The princess turned to Abish, “Do you know these men?”

“I have never met them. I only know what Ammon told me of them.”

The Princess nodded, “Then you must go and find out why they have come.”

Abish complied, knowing that she had really been given a directive. As awkward as she felt the task to be, she had to admit that she was very curious about them herself and that it would be a good diversion.

She made her way through the unfamiliar palace and was given passage into the King’s chamber where many were gathered. A tall man was standing near the center of the room, preaching. He didn’t look like Ammon: his hair was darker but his skin fairer. Still, there was something about the quality of his voice that was much like Ammon’s, though it didn’t carry such intensity. Like Ammon, the speaker was a very capable preacher. Her attention wandered to his companions. There was another that looked much like the man who was preaching, but with bluer eyes. There were other Nephites there, but she could detect no similarity. It seemed one of Ammon’s brothers, she had no idea which, had gone back to Ishmael with Ammon.

Her eyes wandered back to the speaker and she listened to him for several minutes. Could this be Aaron? He seemed older than the other brother and he certainly had a commanding presence. Aaron was the leader, Ammon had said. This man was handsome and tall and strong. And though he lacked Ammon’s inner fire, he certainly held the crowd captive with his words and gestures.

Suddenly, the King interrupted, proclaiming a desire to have a change of heart and pledging his entire earthly kingdom if only he could receive the joy his preacher had promised. As he explained to Lamoni-hah about prayer, a remarkable thought occurred to Abish. Hadn’t Vitria said that her husband had pledged half his kingdom to preserve his life? And now, here he was, pledging his whole kingdom if only salvation might be his.

The king knelt. Abish had seldom heard a thing as beautiful as King Lamoni-hah telling the Lord that he “would give away all his sins to know Him.” The sins of a Lamanite king were legion. Tears came to Abish’s eyes as she thought on her own sacrifices and trials in exchange for knowing God. She hoped Lamoni’s father would find what he was seeking, and that he indeed would know, in the end, it was worth it.

Just as his prayer ended, Lamoni-hah passed out, as completely as his son had done all those months before. As the court around her erupted in complete pandemonium, Abish stayed rooted to her spot, knowing only that Vitria would not take this state of affairs as well as Zaria had done.

Abish’s inaction only lasted until she saw several servants flee the room, undoubtedly they had gone to tell their queen of these strange events. Abish pushed her way through the crowd until she saw the brother who had not spoken off to one side. She approached him, “Are you the brother of Ammon?”

“I am Omner. And yes, Ammon is my brother.”

“I was a servant to Lamoni’s wife when this very thing happened to him.” She didn’t pause to see the recognition that flashed across his face. “The queen will not take this well. I would not be surprised if even at this moment she is sending someone to kill you.”

“We are here on the Lord’s errand. My brethren and I were sent to see this king at this time. He will protect us.”

Abish could see the familiar intensity burn in Omner’s eyes and nodded slowly, “I believe you; and I will add my prayers to yours.”

She turned away to fade into the crowd, “Abish!” He called back over the gathering din. She turned inquisitively. How had he known her name? “There is preaching in the Land of Middoni. We left two of our brethren there to organize the work.”

The words hardly registered, “Preaching? In Middoni?”

Omner nodded, happily. “Your father’s life was not in vain.”

“You know then?” Tears smarted in her eyes.

He nodded again, “We will talk when there is more time.”

“Indeed.”

She turned again and was called back one last time, “And Abish?”

“Yes?”

He smiled lightly, with an almost puzzled look around the corners of his eyes, “I expected somebody much older.”

She shrugged and smiled in return, “I am what I am.”

He bowed slightly toward her in a move that made her flush to the roots of her hair, “And this people will be eternally blessed for that.”

Gratefully, Abish was saved any reply because the melee erupted as Queen Vitria swept into the room with a contingent of guards. It was impossible for her to see what was happening with the pushing and the noise. Vitria had obviously given a command her men were reluctant to follow and there was much argument. It seemed they were afraid of the Nephites. Through the crowd, Abish caught a glimpse of the queen’s pale face; she too was afraid. What a contrast to Zaria’s fledgling faith! Vitria finally stopped issuing execution orders, but Abish could see that it was because of superstition, not belief, because she quickly began ordering men to leave the palace to find others to slay them: others who had not witnessed their power.

Abish wondered what would happen next, remembering that day at Lamoni’s palace that she helped orchestrate. It had ended well, but Abish could never forget how she felt when she thought her actions would turn the situation for the worse. She was in no hurry to find anyone to witness this scene.

And then, Aaron spoke in a voice so low Abish had to strain to hear. For a moment, he seemed to glow with some great inner fire and in that instant she saw Ammon’s exact expression run through his features. He stepped past the queen to her husband and stretched out a hand to him. The queen’s shock and horror was evident as Aaron murmured some words and raised her husband to his feet. And just like Lamoni had that day, the King began to preach words so wonderful Abish could hardly contain the song of joy in her heart. After what seemed like hours, she shook herself from her reverie and went to talk to the princess. Falana just might accept the gospel.

Chapter 19: Prisoners

2009-04-04T19:23:00.001-07:00

I wasn't quite dawn when Himni rose from his knees, several yards from where the others slept. He had fallen asleep quickly the night before, but woke up well before the sun came up. The hot, inky night had driven him from his slumber, and while he knew it wasn’t safe he had wanted desperately to be alone—to offer up a sincere, verbal prayer to his Heavenly Father. He had been on his knees a long time, though his remaining companions were not awake yet.

He stared across the plain, watching the sun rise and remembering that terrible day three weeks ago when the young boy had come running to warn them. He was so out of breath he could hardly speak. Himni had never seen the child before and did not understand how the boy knew them, or how he had happened to see the others arrested. Nobody else knew either. His appearance was a miracle, though little else had gone right since fleeing the city.

Then, finally, yesterday, King Antiomno had granted them an audience. It was agreed ahead of time that Omner would speak, but when it came time to bow before the king no words came. Fearful of losing their opportunity, Himni had stepped forward. As he stepped from behind his brother, he knew what had shocked Omner into speechlessness. King Antiomno was wearing a long necklace of what appeared to be human teeth. His chin was painted in a complicated pattern of swirls. The priests behind him were wearing headdresses made of a single row of black feathers, but the king’s head covering was elaborate and colorful. Himni had plunged ahead anyway.

To Himni’s surprise they were actually allowed to see their brothers while the king himself followed them to the dungeon. Himni shuddered involuntarily at the recent memory of the four missionaries. Their naked skin was dotted with recent and old bruises piled layer upon layer in a sickening sea of green and brown and purple. Aaron was still lucid, but the other three didn’t appear to be. They had obviously been given very little to eat, if anything. Willing himself to be tough in front of the king, Himni fought to keep the tears from spilling down his cheeks. After speaking to Aaron for just a moment, Antiomno had interrupted them.

He put his scepter under Omner’s chin and eyed him carefully. “You look like the tall one.”

Omner finally found his voice, “He’s my brother.”

The king cackled heartily, “Now isn’t that sweet. You have come to save your brother but when you see the heathen king you are too frightened to even beg for his life.” His cruel laughter reverberated the dungeon and Himni’s skin had gone cold with fear.

Finally recovering himself, the king had said, “It was my intention to throw you in with them. But now, I think, I have a better idea. You tell this white god of yours that nothing short of a miracle will save these men. It would take an order from King Lamoni-hah himself to release them, or plagues or locusts or hail or whatever your god sees fit to do. You go back to the woods and call on your god to make me release these men, or in a week’s time, they will be dragged to the top of my temple and sacrificed to the gods of the Lamanites while my people cheer. On that day you will know the real power of Heaven.”

Himni’s head hung low in the early morning light. After those terrible words, the king’s laughing expression dropped and was replaced with one of pure evil. Then, using his scepter, he had unexpectedly clubbed them both on the right side of the head, near the eye. The brothers hardly had time to react before they realized they were both dripping with blood. “Such a wound takes about a week to heal. If your brothers have not joined you by that time, then they won’t. Let’s call that the seal on the contract between your tiny god and the multitude of deities that fill my sky.” His laughter had followed them all the way out of the dungeon.

They had been escorted from the city. Now, less than a day later, Himni got to his knees again, praying for a miracle. After several minutes in this attitude the thought came to him that Ammon would somehow help them. Such a thing seemed nearly impossible, but Ammon had gotten Himni out of more than one seemingly impossible situation.

One of these times came vividly to his mind. When he was just seven, and Ammon was many years older, Himni was out in the fields, helping some of the workers harvest potatoes. There was an old well on the edge of the field that he and his brothers had been warned many times about, but curiosity got the better of him. He was seldom without his brothers and he took advantage of the opportunity to not be bossed by them. He had left his work and gone exploring. It was only after her fell into the well that he understood their words of warning. Panic set in almost immediately, though he tried very hard to keep his wits.

His brothers had taught him how to swim, so he treaded water for a long time, while alternating trying to cling to the slippery, rocky side. He called for help until he was so hoarse that even his tears were silent. His legs grew numb and he was sure that he would die. And then he heard Ammon’s voice. Later, Ammon would tell him that they were in the middle of their lessons that afternoon when suddenly he just knew his brother was in danger. He had unceremoniously left his studies and run to the old well. Mosiah had held his youngest son tightly that night; there was no punishment, obviously Himni had been punished enough by the fear attached to his disobedience. In his whole childhood, he remembered that as being the one day that Ammon and his father had gotten along.

There had been other times too, perhaps not so dramatic, but Ammon seemed to sense when Himni needed something. So, as Himni knelt, instead of just praying for a miracle, he prayed that wherever Ammon was and whatever he was doing, he would somehow know that Himni was in trouble and come to save them. Somehow.

Even with their letter from Lamoni’s father, Ammon’s anxiety increased hourly as they approached Middoni. He knew the men were exhausted. Since meeting the great king, Lamoni had insisted they not stop. They had traveled nearly all night, stopping just long enough to eat and rest their pack animals. Tempers were short, but Ammon ignored it. As long as Lamoni would push on ahead, Ammon did not disagree. Arriving even a few hours earlier might mean the difference between life and death for his brothers.

As they approached the city, Ammon could see that Abish had indeed been correct about the feast day’s approach. The road was crowded, and although safe passage was made for Lamoni, going was slow. On their fourth day of travel, they arrived at the city gates just before sundown. Lamoni hesitated.

“What’s wrong?” Ammon fought his impatience.

“I know what we need to do, friend, but there is some protocol that must be followed.” His diplomatic words soothed Ammon’s restlessness slightly and he continued. “Middoni is a well-protected city, as are all the cities at the north end of the Lamanite lands. This gate will be closed by sundown, allowing no exit or entrance until tomorrow morning. Our coming here tonight violates that security. Besides, the king is likely at or preparing for his evening meal. The interruption is unconventional.”

“So we camp.” Ammon tried very hard to not sound impatient, but he was certain that Lamoni knew him too well not see right through the façade.

“On the other hand, their feasting begins tomorrow at noon and Antiomno will not want the week’s festivities interrupted for any reason.”

“What is to be done?”

Ammon’s desperation made revelation impossible. Now, so close to their objective, he was at a total loss for how to proceed. There was a long pause. “We should wait,” Lamoni determined with an air of finality.

Ammon was less disappointed than he expected those words to make him feel. He had faith in Lamoni’s judgment, and he was grateful that someone else made the decision. He nodded slowly. “It is well. If we are rested our arguments will be more convincing.”

Just after dawn they entered the city gates and rode through a marketplace already becoming overcrowded. Unlike Ishmael, in Middoni everything was centrally located. The entire populace that Antiomno ruled was inside the walls. The congestion heightened with the many visitors streaming through the gates. Even though it was barely light, vendors were already busy selling a variety of foods and goods. Ammon knew he was very conspicuous at the king’s side and was unsure how to avoid eye contact—should he hold his head high and risk appearing haughty, or should he look down, as if he was Lamoni’s slave or prisoner? He opted for neither, keeping his eyes straight ahead, reminding himself that he too was a king’s son.

King Antiomno’s anger was evident, but Ammon sensed another emotion playing beneath his hard and impassive face. He was afraid. Deeply afraid. Ammon could see that he clenched his teeth, but whether it was fury over King Lamoni-hah’s royal decree read in front of him or because he was trying to keep his chin from quivering, Ammon wasn’t sure. He couldn’t explain it and wouldn’t press his luck with this man by pursuing the matter, but somehow in their coming he had seen the hand of God. And it terrified him.

The prisoners were ordered to come. Although he had separated from eight men all those months before, only four were brought. Ammon’s heart broke when he saw their condition. Their wrists and ankles were rubbed raw where they had obviously been tied. Their naked skins were tattooed with layer after layer of bruises. Aaron, the strongest of his brothers, was emaciated. His bones stuck out in sharp relief and he was the only one of the quartet able to stand on his own. But Ammon’s terror became so sharp he could almost taste it when he scanned and identified their faces. Ammon walked to Aaron and looked into his sad green eyes. “Are Omner and Himni dead, then?” The tears threatened to spill as he said the words aloud.

Weakly, Aaron shook his head. “They were never captured. I think they are in hiding in the jungle.”

Before Ammon could say anything else, Antiomno spoke, “The others you speak of sought audience with these men a week ago. They weren’t harmed and were given safe passage out of the city.”

Ammon bit off a sarcastic reply. He was quite certain the visit wasn’t as amiable as Antiomno would want them to believe. Ammon just kept his eyes on his brother’s and nodded, “We will find them.”

Aaron nodded too; the relief was so evident on his face that Ammon’s tears could not be stopped from spilling down his cheeks. Lamoni was businesslike as he arranged transport for the wounded men out of the city. Antiomno gave a display of hospitality by inviting them to stay in the palace. Lamoni was equally diplomatic in his refusal saying, “No, cousin, we have no wish to interrupt your feast day. Undoubtedly you have many important people staying with you: our business is to move on.”

“There are indeed many here this week. This is the most important of our festivals to honor the rain god. But then, I have heard strange rumors that those in the Land of Ishmael have stopped paying homage to the old gods.”

Lamoni paused and Ammon could see him weigh the words carefully. “It is true that many in our region have begun rethinking what they have always claimed to know about the gods.”

Seeing that he could not bait Lamoni, the king said no more. Still, as was proper, he walked Lamoni and his party to the front of his house. Just before they parted, Ammon stopped and said, “King Antiomno?” He bowed low as he said it, his heart in his throat but knowing the Lord had given him the words to say.

The King narrowed his eyes at being addressed by the Nephite, but he nodded his head for him to proceed anyway. “Thank you for the release of my brethren. For the kindness you have shown this day, God has in turn shown me how this people might receive their rain.”

Ammon met his hard gaze without flinching and could read the thinly veiled curiosity just under the surface. “And how is that, Nephite?”

Ammon smiled so slightly, “Several years ago this very week, a holy man was killed on your sacrifice day for his testimony of the living God. His death was meant to appease your rain deity who then sent no significant rain to replenish your barren land. Middoni has been under condemnation all these years for his death, and for the deaths of others in like manner. If you will announce to your people this day that there will be no sacrifice; that the Nephites you captured have been given their freedom as well as all the other victims, then the only true God with any power in the universe will send you the rain your people desperately need.”

The color had drained from Antiomno’s face and his eyes grew wide. Ammon felt the power of the Lord move through his entire body as he made his prophecy. Ammon lowered his voice, “The feeling in your heart tells you I have spoken truly. You are a great king—a man who can destroy life at whim. But if you will follow the counsel of the Lord’s servant this day and risk the displeasure of your priests, then you will do the first brave thing you have ever done in your life. Today your courage could save your nation.”

Antiomno blinked and the direct gaze he’d held Ammon locked in for several moments was broken. He shook his head and staggered back from Ammon, the color returning slightly to his face, “Get out of my house.” He said with a low growl.

Ammon bowed low, “As your majesty wishes.”

Little was said until the group was well outside the city gates. A camp was made in the jungle and scouts were sent to locate the others. Their camp was not makeshift; it would be some time before Aaron, Muloki, Ammah and Shem were well enough to travel. Lamoni ordered them to build it on the highest ground they could find. Ammon looked at him sideways as he gave the orders. When they were alone, Ammon said, “I like your faith, friend. We will be drier on high ground if the rain does indeed come.”

Lamoni smiled. “Antiomno was angry, but he didn’t kill you on the spot. He knows that only God could have delivered those men from prison today. He has a few hours to mull over the most important decision of his life. I think he will make the right choice.”

Ammon smiled at this man who had become dearer to him than any save his brothers in the past six months. “I hope so. It would be a great boon to the missionary work in this city.”

There was silence for a moment. Limhi said, “Did the Lord tell you about the holy man that was killed here? Antiomno seemed to know of what you were speaking.”

Ammon shook his head. “The Lord didn’t tell me. Abish did.”

“Abish? The midwife?”

He nodded. “The holy man killed was her father. He hadn’t been dead a month when she found herself a slave in your household.”

“All these years, and I had no idea.”

Ammon clapped him on the back. “Even in suffering there is purpose. Before he was killed he taught her the gospel. She never forgot him or his message, and she has kept the faith close to her heart. It is her prayers that led me to your household; her friendship with Zaria that caused your wife to listen instead of having me killed when you were finding your way through the veil of unbelief; and it was information she gave me that prepared me to defend your sheep.” Lamoni looked in astonishment at Ammon’s grin. “In all the years I guarded my father’s flocks I never took a large and newly sharpened sword with me to do so. The Lord gave me strength that day, but his handmaiden gave me a tip.”

Lamoni laughed heartily. “I like you more all the time, Ammon. I can hardly wait to meet the rest of your family.”

“Me too, brother, me too.”

Omner, Himni and the others were found just later that day. Himni looked directly at Ammon and smiled one of his rare smiles. “We stayed close to the city; I knew we would see you today. You have always been there when I needed help the most.”

“We were almost too late,” Ammon said soberly as he hugged his younger brother.

“But you weren’t.”

That very night, storm clouds rolled in and the heavens poured. The parched earth soaked it up as a sponge. Muddy water ran in rivulets all around their tents. Only Himni did not sleep soundly in the wonderfully cool evening. He stood out in the rain, allowing it to wash over him in great torrents. He laughed for joy at being reunited with his brothers, and for a city that was ripe for conversion.

Chapter 18--Half His Kingdom

2009-03-25T09:21:00.000-07:00

The first few days were awful, but their lives quickly settled into a routine. The queen certainly missed her husband, but she was so busy with the added responsibility of running the city in Lamoni’s absence that she had little time to regret. Abish was equally busy, though with very different tasks. She was now delivering babies all throughout the land of Ishmael and was often away for several days at a time.

Near the end of their third week away, the queen received an unexpected visitor that sent the entire palace into an uproar of preparation-making. Lamoni’s mother herself came for a visit. Queen Vitria was a formidable presence for even a lady as gracious as Zaria.

“I am so glad to see you!” The queen exclaimed when she saw Abish return one afternoon after four days away.

“I heard that you have an important visitor.”

“Yes, and it worries me. The only times I’ve spoken to her without Lamoni present have not gone well. She would only come if there was something very serious on her mind. She doesn’t waste time on frivolities.”

“Maybe she just wants to see the baby.” Abish speculated.

“I think the baby visit is a cover. I think she has learned all that has happened here.”

“Then she is probably livid over Lamoni’s absence.”

“You know, that is the strangest part. I thought she would be. But she seemed to expect it, almost like she knew he wasn’t here.”

“Have you spoken with her yet?”

“Only formally. She just arrived the day before yesterday, but she has requested a meeting with me later today.”

“How can I help?”

“Will you stay with me?”

“Won’t that seem strange, for her to request a private meeting with you, but then you invite me to join you? A stranger for Queen Vitria to meet?” The queen’s cheeks flushed a bright red and she and opened her mouth to speak but no words came. In that moment Abish understood. Her own cheeks grew hot too, but with something more like anger than embarrassment. She kept her voice low, willing herself to be patient until she understood. “I see. You aren’t inviting me to join you; you are inviting me to stand in the corner, mute, as a slave.” Instinctively, Abish fingered her mutilated earlobe. The mark was still painfully obvious to even a casual observer.

“Please hear me out.”

“I’m listening.” Abish sat back in her chair, arms folded.

“She will expect me to have slaves and servants around. If she is carrying a message back to her husband, it may be better for her to see that things are pretty much the same here, at least until Lamoni returns. Besides, then you will hear everything that goes on and you and I can talk about it later. I won’t ask you to do anything for us.”

“You won’t, but she might.”

“Probably not, that would be very irregular.”

Abish chafed under the request, not that it was a difficult thing to do, but only because she hated being treated as a slave again, even in appearance, simply because it was convenient. She remembered telling Lamoni that she would help take care of his wife. She really had asked so little from her in recent months, and Abish did live in their home. The arguments for and against ran through her head and she sighed, “I will do it, but only because you are my friend and I think it will help you.”

The queen’s face relaxed and she smiled, “I am so sorry to ask you to do it, but I think it will be for the best.”

For whom? Abish couldn’t help but think bitterly, but she kept her mouth shut and nodded. She traded her outfit that afternoon for a simpler one and helped the queen dress her hair. Abish chided herself for being so foolish as she helped the queen. This was a task she had always enjoyed before, so she tried to convince herself that she was just helping a friend get ready for an important day instead of only being there because she had no other choice. It almost worked.

Queen Vitria was prompt. She entered the room with a slave of her own and Abish kept her eyes averted, remembering the proper behavior for a slave as she saw the subdued manner that the other woman held her head. Abish and the other woman stood on opposite sides of the room, ready if called, but shadows otherwise.

“We missed you at the celebration months back.”

“We were sorry not to attend; I was very ill after the baby was born.”

The queen’s eyes were sharp as they regarded her daughter-in-law. “Surely Lamoni could have had no part in dealings with women; he could have come alone.”

“Lamoni was loathe to leave me; for a time my midwife feared that I would die.”

“It is a poor midwife who brings a woman and child through delivery only to nearly lose them in the days after.” Abish’s face burned with anger, but she held her tongue.

Zaria’s voice turned slightly cold, “My midwife is the best of women. She seldom loses a mother or a baby, even in the most difficult circumstances. Because of her, Sariah and I both lived.”

The queen’s eyes narrowed, “Yes, I have heard legend of the child-midwife who delivers babies in this quarter of the land of Ishmael.” Abish almost bit her tongue to keep from gasping. How far had her overblown reputation spread?

There was more silence. The queen prompted quietly, “But I know, Mother, that you did not come all this way to discuss my midwife.”

“Indeed I did not. There is something much more pressing on my mind.” The queen raised her eyebrows ever so slightly, encouraging her mother-in-law to continue. “For a few months now, ever since our celebration, Lamoni’s father has heard alarming reports coming from this land, causing him to believe there was more to Lamoni’s absence than just a sick wife. In fact, these reports were so alarming and so patently out of character for our son, that my husband decided a few weeks ago that he would journey to this city in an attempt to discover the source of these rumors.”

“We were never privileged to receive this visit.”

“No you were not. My husband met Lamoni and a very unlikely companion when he was a just a few days on the road.” She snapped.

“You must mean Ammon.” Abish could tell by her tone that her friend was fighting to keep her composure and dignity, and while her voice did not shake, she kept her hands clasped tightly in her lap.

“Is this what your Nephite calls himself?” The queen was haughty.

“Ammon is a Nephite.”

“My husband has given me some of the details from their chance meeting on the road. I was first surprised to learn that they were headed to Middoni, and not to see Lamoni’s father, as should have been proper.”

“They had actually planned on meeting with His Majesty, and were making plans for such a visit when urgent business called them to Middoni.”

“Yes, I heard of this ‘urgent’ business. Apparently there are more of these Nephites who have been imprisoned by Antiomno.”

“Yes.”

“And the Nephite knows this because his god told him?” The haughtiness of her tone had been steadily increasing.

Abish was proud of the way Zaria held her head high and replied, “Yes, your majesty, that is how Ammon knows.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Indeed.” There was a pause. “Well, if by some means of stealth or deception he has learned this information, Antiomno has made the right choice by putting our enemies in prison.”

“Did your husband send you to deliver this message?”

“My husband does not order me about. I am free to come and go as I wish. If he merely wanted a message sent then he would have sent a slave.” There was another pause, this one heavy with waiting. Abish could see her queen wanting to ask the obvious question then—why had she come? Why did it seem that she was not on the king’s errand if these were indeed his feelings? After an uncomfortable interval, the high queen finally got to it. “Where they were going was not the only item of interest to my husband in the course of their meeting.”

“Oh?”

“My husband ordered Lamoni to kill Ammon.”

Abish nearly bit through her tongue to keep from crying out and she saw the blood drain from the queen’s face, “And how did my husband take this command?”

“He refused. In fact, his refusal was so vehement that it angered his father greatly who then attempted to take Lamoni’s life.” The stillness was powerful and the Zaria’s eyes welled with tears. Abish felt her stomach churn with anxiety, but the silence only lasted a moment. “You’ll be grateful to know that your Nephite intervened just then, and while my husband is a powerful man he is no match for a young man who rips the arms off his enemies with his bare hands.”

Abish nearly chuckled with relief and at the latest distortion of Ammon’s strength. The queen’s face finally relaxed also and she said mildly, “I believe he used a sword.”

“Whatever! The point is that my husband had to promise him half his kingdom to make Ammon to let him go.”

Sensing Queen Vitria’s growing discomfort with the direction the meeting between her husband and son had taken, Zaria’s said sardonically, “Ammon hasn’t seemed all that greedy to me. The king should have been more conservative; Ammon probably would have been satisfied with your husband’s promise not to attempt to murder my husband.”

Queen Vitria looked at her sharply and narrowed his eyes again, “You seem to know the Nephite well.”

“I like to think we do.”

“Well, that is exactly what he said! That he would let him go on condition that he would not kill Lamoni.”

The queen’s face softened somewhat, “All in all, your Majesty, doesn’t that seem to have been for the best? Your husband and your son are both well and perhaps they will begin to see eye-to-eye on some things.”

“I don’t want my husband to be minded as Lamoni is regarding Nephite traditions. Your people are not my people.” Abish suddenly saw into the heart of what this was all about. Queen Zaria did look like a Nephite and Vitria seemed to think she was somehow responsible for all that had transpired.

Zaria lowered her voice and said, “In all the years I have been married to Lamoni, I have followed his leadership and learned all I could about his culture, leaving my own behind. Now, under the influence of the true God of Heaven, Lamoni is trying something else. Once again, I am wholeheartedly following my husband.”

Queen Vitria suddenly swept to her feet, “What is it about this Ammon that has you all so bewitched? My husband is acting as crazy as the rest of you!” She dropped her defenses in an instant and suddenly looked more worried than haughty.

Abish fought to keep control of her face, it would not do to have Queen Vitria believe the slaves were listening in. Zaria spoke in low tones, “Your husband was impressed with Ammon then?”

“It is not to be believed how impressed he was! When he saw how much Ammon loved Lamoni, he granted Ammon’s brothers’ clemency. Even Antiomno cannot argue with that, regardless of the charge against his brothers. On top of that, he has given Lamoni absolute control over this land.”

Zaria’s face was no less puzzled than Abish’s own as Queen Vitria explained, “Didn’t you understand, Your Majesty,” this latest was said with much sarcasm, “that Lamoni’s power and policy was contingent on his father’s good grace, but now! Now my out-of-his-head son can do whatever he likes regardless of what my husband thinks. He has made Lamoni a sovereign nation right here in the middle of the Lamanites! He has never allowed this kind of privilege to any of his kings before.”

She could see the queen mulling this over. “So this means that although Lamoni’s kingdom is smaller than his father’s, they are on equal footing?”

Vitria was momentarily taken aback, “Well, yes, I suppose.”

“And that my status is likewise equal to yours.” Now her mother-in-law was really speechless. “I thought so. Thank you for bringing me this news. And now, if our interview is finished, I would be happy to show you back to your rooms; or, if you prefer, my friend Abish can do so.” Here she turned and pointed to where Abish stood, beaming. The word friend had made all the difference.

“Your refer to this slave as your friend?”

“She is not my slave. Lamoni has freed all our slaves.”

“This is scandalous! What has gone on here?”

The queen stood now, to her full height, making her taller than Queen Vitria who suddenly seemed a little bit cowed, “I would be happy to tell you the history of our relationship to the Nephite Ammon, but I would have to ask you to listen very carefully and with an open heart.”

“I have never been so insulted in my entire life! I am unused to being treated in such a manner.”

“Milady, I have no wish to insult you, but our equal status prevents me from having to listen to outlandish criticisms of myself, my husband, or our friends. Again, if you wish to hear the full, true story I am happy to give it to you, but if you have merely come to belittle and gossip, I must insist that our visit be concluded.”

Abish could see that Queen Vitria was unsure whether to argue and risk being put in her place or leave the room, giving her daughter-in-law power over her. She was saved the choice by the Zaria’s deep bow and her own exit from the room. Abish hastily followed her. Her friend swept through the hall, head held high and silent. Even with Abish’s long legs she had to walk very quickly to keep up with her quick pace. When they made it to the queen’s bedroom chamber she shut the door behind her and quickly looked around. Seeing they were alone, she sank to the bed in a fit of relieved laughter.

Abish grinned broadly and the queen said, “That was by far the most indecorous things I’ve ever done as queen. I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if I end up paying dearly for it, but oh, it felt good to tell her exactly what was on my mind.”

The great queen was indeed offended. She left first thing the next morning, after requesting one last interview. Abish was the only one present, but she was unable to stay invisible enough to avoid the queen’s disdainful stare. She bowed slightly before the queen and said only, “You and I may officially have equal status, but you are certainly never welcome in my home. That goes for your nasty half-breed child also. Helamoni, Lemuel and Selah are welcome to visit any time they wish; I had no quarrel with their mother. It will, in fact, be good to get them away from this house of zealous Nephite-lovers.”

Much of Zaria’s grace had returned this morning, and Abish was impressed with the way she held her head and kept her countenance, “Is this the message you would have me pass to your son, then, when he returns?”

“I have no faith in your ability to pass on any message to my son; I know that whatever you say to him will place yourself in a perfect light and I will be a monster. So you may say whatever your like to him: I know it will make no difference.” She left the room in a swirl of robes and feathers.

Zaria sighed and leaned on the arm of the chair. She looked very pale and colorless compared to her counterpart who had just left. Abish loved her for it. “My rash words from yesterday can’t make me laugh today. We really need Lamoni’s father on our good side. He was perhaps getting there, but hearing how deeply I’ve offended his wife could turn his mind very easily.”

Abish smiled wanly, “Or perhaps he is not so ignorant of his wife’s nature as to believe outright whatever she may say about this visit.”

Queen Zaria smiled wanly, “I think I cannot see anybody today; I just want to spend the day with Sariah. Today I want to be a mother instead of a queen.”

“A great choice. You are not so busy today, and I’ll have your schedule cleared otherwise.”

“You know that you don’t actually work for me anymore.”

Abish laughed, “I know. Old habits are hard to break. Let’s just say I’m helping as a friend; my own duties are light today.”

The queen stood and sighed, “I’ll be so glad when Lamoni is back.” Abish said nothing as she nodded slightly. Lamoni’s return would definitely be good for the kingdom and for Zaria; Ammon’s return would be good for the church, but what would his return mean for her? Like all the believers in Ishmael, she missed his enthusiasm and his way with words. And in a part of her self she hardly dared acknowledge, she missed his easy charm, handsome face and ready attentiveness.

All of this skimmed across her mind in the silence and Zaria said quietly, “Will you be glad to see Ammon again?’

Abish smiled and put her arm around the queen, “Yes. But whether that means anything significant or not . . .”

“Maybe it’s too early to say.”

Abish nodded, “And he is here on the Lord’s errand. That must come first.”

“Your turn will come, dear. Maybe when you least expect it.” In that moment, the Spirit whispered patience. For many years to come she would remember the peace of that moment and remind herself to just wait.

Chapter 17

2009-03-14T17:12:00.001-07:00

Chapter 17—No One Save it Be God
Abish listened to the queen carefully, but had to ask again, to make sure she understood, “How did Ammon receive his message?”

The queen was infinitely patient, “He said that the Lord revealed it to him.”

“No messenger, nothing?”

She shook her head, “No. Ammon’s exact words were that no one had told him save it was God himself.”

“And he is certain they are in Middoni?” Abish felt the fear grow inside.

“That is what the Lord told him. What?” Abish’s instant pallor was not lost on her friend.

“My father was killed during their week of feasting to the rain god.”
“Yes.”

“Their feast day is approaching soon.” Now the queen’s face lost all color.

“You don’t think they would. . .”

Abish shook her head, “I don’t know. My father once told me that they preferred their victims to be willing, it made a better show for the crowd that way, but perhaps because they are Nephites. . .” she trailed off as well. The inevitable was too difficult to talk about. “What is Ammon planning on doing?”

“I’m not sure what he was planning on doing, but now he is taking Lamoni with him and that should help.”

“Does Lamoni know the king?”

“King Antiomno is a good friend of Lamoni’s. They were raised together in his father’s palace; I believe they are distant cousins.”

Abish looked momentarily puzzled. “Antiomno was not the king when I was a child.”

“No, the former king fell out of favor with Lamoni’s father and Antiomno was appointed in his stead.”

“Did he die?”

The queen flushed slightly and put her head down, “After he fell out of favor he mysteriously turned up poisoned a few weeks later.”

“Ahh. . .I see.” Abish’s face reddened a bit too. Their lives were so different now, that it was sometimes difficult to remember how closely akin they were to a very savage people. “It is good to know things are different, at least in this part of our land anyway.”

“Yes. That is why it is very important that we try to spread this message or I fear we will not last long.”

Abish changed the subject back to what they had begun talking about, unable to get the image of her father’s gristly death out of her head. “Do you know if Antiomno practices human sacrifice?”

It was silent for a moment, Abish could see that the queen was carefully choosing her words so as not to either alarm or reassure. “I don’t know. But I do know that when new kings pass into power, they do very little to interrupt the status quo that existed before, particularly if the people are happy or prosperous.”

“But the former king had fallen out of favor with Lamoni’s father?”

“Not over human sacrifice. My father-in-law has generally allowed the communities to worship as they will. There was a Nephite-style temple in the city I grew up in. It would not have been built had Lamoni’s father not allowed it to be. You have to remember that the Lamanites are a very loose collection of people. As you move further out from these lands that have been centrally held for generations, you will find many that do not even speak the language we consider Lamanitish. Some of the groups, like mine, are here by choice, but countless others are here by force. This has been going on for hundreds of years, but some of the cultures never really assimilate.”

Abish was taking all of this in with a nod. She could also see that she needed to warn Ammon. “I think I need to go find our Nephite friend and pass on some information.”

“It is probably wise, but all is nearly in readiness. They are leaving this day. Even when you came I wondered if it would be Lamoni coming to say goodbye. Ammon is likely at the stables.”

Abish hurried, suddenly energized despite three nearly sleepless days. She found him grooming horses and finalizing the packing of the chariots. It was not a large group, but she could see from their preparations they planned on being gone some time. She had hurried so quickly to find him, but now, as she stood in the door of the stable she was unsure of how to approach him.

She was saved the awkward moment because he came to her with a wan smile, “I guess you have received word of my bad news.”

Abish nodded sympathetically, “I know you are leaving today anyway, but I wanted to bid you extra haste.”

“Oh?”

“There is a feast day coming in the land of Middoni, that is, if they are still practicing the same religion that they did when I was a child.”

“So it will be crowded.”
“There is more to it than that.” Ammon raised his eyebrows and she continued, “The Lamanites in Middoni always do a human sacrifice during this feast. It is this feast during which my own father was killed. Murdered on the altar so that he would not speak.” Abish surprised herself by saying the words without anger or sorrow. This awful thing had become a fact of her past now, no longer something to fear and hide from.

The blood drained from his face and all trace of humor left his eyes. “Dear God.”

Almost without thinking, she put her hand out and touched his arm, a thing that their social norms forbade but seemed as natural as anything. “I am sure the Lord has told you in time.”
Ammon sat hard and shook his head, “I hope so.” He then looked up and toward the door Abish had just entered through. “Lamoni has just gone to say goodbye to his wife. We will be off within the half hour.”

“It is good.” She said and sat next to him. Ammon put his head back down, lost in his thoughts. Abish glanced sideways at him. It might be true that Lamoni was friends with the king over the land of Middoni, but civil wars had probably started over less than what he would be requesting, particularly if Antiomno had some specific offense in mind when he’d imprisoned Ammon’s companions. As she quietly studied his features, she could see his face filled with tension for the coming journey. Normally she had seen such arresting brightness in his eyes that it was easy to be enveloped in his passion, but not today. Abish believed he would not close his thoughts to her if he asked, and so she ventured to pull him out of the shell she had never before seen him cast around himself.

“And what are your brothers like, Ammon?” His countenance opened slightly, and she knew that she had been right to speak to him.

“They are the best of men.”

Abish smiled even more brightly, “All alike?”

“Oh no. Each unique and strong in his own way. I have felt quite lost these past months without them as my companions.”

“And you are the oldest?”

“Yes, Aaron is just younger than me. You know, I have a great passion for the work of the Lord; I feel it so deeply that my mouth runs over with the joy in my heart. When we preached in the land of Zarahemla, much of the time it was I who jumped up in the middle of the village square. The Lord blessed me with the right words, but Aaron is the real leader. He thinks and studies and ponders things out. Not long after we left the land of my father, we received word that the people wanted Aaron to be their king.”

“I am sure you would have made a great king.”

Ammon shrugged, “Possibly, but in Nephite lands, the voice of the people has a great say in how things come to pass in our government. Our people are wise and Aaron is much like my father; but he decided on the ministry. We sent the messenger back to tell our father that not only did Aaron refuse the crown, but that each of his brothers, in turn, did also. We suggested a new form of government all together. It is an idea my father had toyed with for many years.”

“What would you do without a king?” Abish had never heard of such a thing.

Ammon grinned. “There are other ways, my Lamanite princess.”

She laughed, “I am no princess.”

“You are a true daughter of the Most High King of Heaven. No title is more fitting.” She remembered Zaria’s words from a few days before and felt the blood creep into her face as his blue eyes bored directly into her dark ones. Nephite customs and directness of speech were so different to her. She was unsure what to make of it.

To clear her suddenly rapid breathing she said calmly, “There are two other brothers you mentioned before.”

“Yes, Omner is the third brother. If Aaron is a born leader than Omner is a born follower.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Now that we are all on the right path it is a marvelous thing. He accepts much on faith and follows obediently the course he has chosen. Whatever work needs to be done, Omner is the first to jump to his feet and volunteer. He knows how to serve.”

“So, Aaron is the head, you are the mouth and Omner is the hands.”

Ammon laughed loudly, “Cleverly put.”

Just then they were interrupted by Lemhah who gave some last minute instructions to Ammon. He also let them know that Lamoni was on his way. She lingered only momentarily after Lemhah left, feeling the tug of her exhaustion, but knowing Ammon would be gone for perhaps many months. His presence had been the light in the darkness that had been her life; because of him, every day of her future would be different. She wanted to bask in his glow, if only for another instant.

“I suppose we must part ways now,” Ammon said as he stood from the low wall on which they had been sitting.

Abish smiled, “But the separation will only be brief and then you will come back with your brothers.”

His countenance clouded, “I do hope so.”

“The queen and I will pray for your safe and quick return.”

Ammon smiled again in that arresting, sun-from-out-behind-the-clouds way, “My own mother died when I was very young, but I watched the mother of my best friend pray many years for my soul and the souls of my brothers; she prayed for the Lord’s mercy when it was the last thing in the world any of us deserved. As I think back on her now and the goodness of her heart, I must believe the Lord listens especially to the prayers of righteous women. Knowing that you are here, praying for us, will no doubt speed the success of our mission. After all, it was your prayers that brought me here in the first place.”

“Do you really believe so?”

“I do, Abish. The Lord did not overlook your years of righteousness despite the many difficulties. Some of the prayers requiring the biggest miracles take the longest time. Look at the good work we have already done here in Lamoni’s land. Who knows the extent of the labor the Lord intends for us?”

Abish smiled. Even in his worry, he still took time to teach her the gospel, to testify of truth and to look forward with optimism. Spontaneously she said, “I’m grateful you came.”

“I am too. In many ways, I have never been happier than I am right now.” He did not look at Abish directly as he said these words, but she blushed anyway. As much as she was sorry for the trouble his brothers might be in, she was almost grateful for the months he’d be away so she could sort out how she really felt about this glorious man who had seemed to have come straight from Heaven.

Not knowing what else to say, she finished with, “Then, until we meet again.” Ammon bowed low as she turned to leave the stable. Suddenly, she remembered something and turned just as Ammon had begun to walk away. She called him back. “One more quick question.”
“All right?”

“You never said anything about your last brother.”

Ammon’s smile became almost wistful as he looked out the window and into the light. “My dear youngest brother with enough charity to encompass the whole world. I pray that his weeks in a Lamanite prison have not taken his great love of mankind from him.” He made eye contact again with Abish. “Himni . . .” He trailed off and nodded slowly, “Himni is the heart.”

Chapter 16: A More Hardened People

2009-03-04T16:16:00.000-08:00

It was nearly the worst day of Aaron’s life. The only exception he could think of was the day that his young wife and newborn son died. He and Himni found a small stream as they staggered away from the city they had just been banished from. Himni looked to make sure that nobody was nearby and he helped his brother bathe his face. Aaron winced at the pain. He looked at Himni, “What do you think? Does it look bad?”

Himni made a face, “Pretty bad.”

“It hurts like the devil.”

“I am sure it does.” He glanced nervously into the surrounding jungle again. “I think we need to move on, brother. It would be better if you could rest, but we are still close.”

“I know, I know. I’ll get up.” He groaned, “Just not very quickly.”

Himni smiled. “Glad to see you have some humor left.”

Aaron was on his feet now. “But not much.” He arched his back to stretch as they began walking down the path. “Is it just me, or were they really like the meanest, most contentious people you’ve ever seen?”

“They were pretty bad all right.”

“You know, it wasn’t that long ago they were Nephites. I thought that might make them more receptive, but wow. . .”

Two days before he and Himni had entered the city of Jerusalem, home to the Amulonites and the Amalekites. There was a generous sprinkling of Lamanites thrown in as well, but many times it hadn’t seemed any different than walking the streets of Zarahemla. Until they started talking to the people, of course. The first day had not been bad, but this very morning they had decided to go right to the synagogue to preach. Aaron felt like that was a nice touch; standing there he could easily explain the true purpose of the building they had erected for worship. His preaching had almost immediately turned into an ugly argument. Himni had tried to take a turn speaking, but Aaron plunged ahead, trying to prove from the scriptures the many errors of their ways. Then, after the angry crowd got tired of throwing words, they began throwing rotten fruit. It was a testament, really, to how much they hated them; Aaron knew this land had been in a drought for many years and even rotten fruit was probably scarce. Then the stones had started; that is when they fled.

Aaron glanced sideways at his brother who still had gooey stickiness in his hair. A direct hit. His face was clean now and not as bruised as Aaron’s own. It looked like most of the stones had missed his face. Still, Himni’s head was down and his normally cheerful gait was heavy. Aaron felt the same way. He hadn’t felt that deeply contentious for years—since the last time he and his brothers had been preaching against the Church. It suddenly occurred to Aaron that if he had just allowed Himni to speak, his soft-spoken brother might have won over the day with his pure, simple testimony.

Instead they had been thrown out of the city, mostly unharmed, until Aaron had tried to shout one last thing into the mocking crowd. That was when the soldier at the gate drew his sword and clubbed him with the hilt of it across his face. Aaron had fallen, but the blow had not knocked him out. The soldiers spat in his face and growled at Himni, “If your brother opens his mouth again, we’ll flay you open while he watches and then we’ll kill him.”

Foolishly, Aaron had tried to speak again, but patient Himni had covered his mouth and dragged him to his feet. He began running as more stones flew, compelling Aaron to follow. Aaron had seen one of those stones, and not a small one either, hit his brother in the small of his back. It must be causing him a serious amount of pain, but Himni was silent about it. The only reference he’d made to Aaron trying to speak one last time was, “It isn’t martyrdom if you ask them to kill us; it’s suicide.”

They walked through most of the long, hot afternoon. In the two weeks since parting from Ammon they’d had no success. And not much to eat. They had planned to meet Muloki and Ammah outside the village of Ani-Anti the next morning. It wasn’t far from Jerusalem. Omner had gone with them. The others had gone ahead to Middoni.

Ani-Anti was not a large enough city to have any type of wall, but it was after dark when they arrived on the outskirts. Not wishing to alarm anyone, they waited in the forest nearby for daybreak to come. It would be another night of sleeping on the ground. Aaron didn’t mind so much; it seemed to be the only time there was a break from the heat in this terrible land.

As agreed upon, the others joined them early the next day. Thankfully, they didn’t ask how the work in Jerusalem had gone; one look at Aaron’s face was enough to explain. Aaron asked them for a report on their activities. Ammah was blunt, “It isn’t great. Most of the people we have met seem more interested in contending with us than anything else.”

Himni shot Aaron a knowing glance as he replied, “Yeah, we know.”

Omner was more positive, “Still, I think we have a few here that might listen. We certainly haven’t been beat up or threatened. I think we need to stay here for a few more days. We aren’t supposed to meet the others over in Middoni for a while yet. I think we should keep trying.”

Himni then made his longest speech for the first time since yesterday morning, “And I think, brethren, we ought to kneel here and pray we will say the right thing, that no matter how provoked we are we will not contend. I think we should pray to know their hearts so that we might be able to say the right words. We should pray to remember our goal in coming to Lamanite lands was love for our brethren.” Here he looked at each one of them solemnly, “My prayer this day is that each of us will remember to love these people and not just try to prove something to them.”

Aaron could see the flush creep across his face. It was hard for Himni to be so bold. He had little wish to offend anybody. Indeed, he had only persecuted the church in Zarahemla because he had no wish to disappoint his brothers. But even then, hardly more than a boy, he had stood up to the others, particularly if their ranting turned hateful. As Himni spoke, he did not look at anyone directly, but Aaron imagined for a moment that his eyes focused a moment longer on himself. It was a bit disconcerting, really. Himni’s eyes weren’t quite the same color and the slight difference was uncanny when the light caught his face just right.

Omner spoke up first, “Well put, brother. Would you lead us in prayer?”

Himni glanced at Omner, the flush creeping further across his face, but he nodded. For the first time since his last conversation with Ammon, Aaron felt the peace of the Lord move in his heart as Himni prayed. Aaron prayed in his own heart that he would humble himself and love the people.

The next several days of preaching were mostly futile, but Aaron felt the spirit in his missionary work for the first time since coming to the Land of Nephi. He concentrated on listening to the people and bit his tongue every time he felt compelled to argue. Despite their lack of success, he actually began to enjoy their work.

While they weren’t officially run out, it was safe to say that they had worn out their welcome. They had talked to everyone who would talk back and nobody wanted anything to do with them. At least, that was what they said. As Aaron became more sensitive to the whispering of the Spirit he could see that some wanted to listen, but were fearful. Discouraged, the turned their faces toward Middoni.

Aaron wasn’t in Middoni more than a few days before he began to feel that the Amulonites and Amalekites in Jerusalem had been hospitable. In Middoni there were strict rules about who was allowed in an out of the gates. They had actually stayed at an inn in the city of Jerusalem, but there was no such accommodation here. They had to leave the city wall every evening by sundown or face arrest. Still, even with this precaution, Aaron had little hope of avoiding arrest. To avoid notice from King Antiomno, they had stayed in the housing end of the city, away from the temple, palace and crowded marketplace. Often times, he and his brethren would split up for the day into at least two groups, but regardless of how they divided, he insisted that Himni stay with him.

Aaron knew that Himni was taking this parental supervision in stride, but he didn’t think it would last much longer without some comment. One evening after they had done some hunting in the forest and were walking together, Himni cleared his throat in a way that indicated he wanted to talk about something. Aaron waited.

“You know, Aaron, you were married at my age.”

Aaron smiled at Himni’s round-about way of approaching what was on his mind. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

His little brother gave a lopsided grin that reminded him of Ammon. They both looked a lot like their mother, whom Himni had never known. She had died giving birth to him; he had almost died too. The three of them had felt protective toward him from the minute he took his first breath. He tried to put these thoughts into words now. “I promised my father and my older brother that I would look after you; I don’t take these promises lightly.”

“We are under the Lord’s protection, brother. He will look after us.”

Aaron smiled, “I know you aren’t a child, Himni. And I have faith that the Lord is watching out for us. Maybe an extra set of eyes is just helping him along.”

“A man could not ask for better older brothers.”

“But?”

“You have a way of getting to the heart of things, don’t you?” Aaron nodded, encouraging him to continue. “I feel impressed to travel with Omner’s group tomorrow.”

Aaron said nothing for a moment, praying in his heart for some kind of answer. The only impression he had was to let go—to trust his youngest brother. “I will travel with Ammah, Muloki and Shem tomorrow. You and Omner will go with the others.”

“Thank you for trusting me, Aaron.”

“I would trust any of my brothers with my very life; it is others I do not trust.”

“Then we must trust in the Lord.”

Not having Himni with him the next day made him bold. As the other three were agreeable to it, they decided they would try to preach in near the temple, in the markets. The area was crowded and they spent the morning talking to many people, a few of whom seemed interested. All seemed to be going very well, actually, and then the trouble arose out of nowhere.

When the sun was nearly at its zenith, Muloki was preaching and he had gathered quite a crowd. He was too concentrated on his sermon to notice, but Aaron had been standing off to one side and began to see shoving in the crowd. Then the noise began. Muloki finally stopped orating as he saw several large Lamanite soldiers and priests yelling and pointing. Aaron strode over to them, and was going to ask what the problem was when he was seized and clubbed over the head. Pandemonium broke out. Aaron and his brethren had agreed that if arrested they would attempt to resist, so that at least one of them might have a chance of getting away to warn the other group. He fought back as well as he could, but even in the chaos and the press of bodies he could easily see that they were outnumbered.

He was clubbed again, the force of the blow knocked him to his knees and his last thought was a hasty prayer that Omner and Himni would somehow learn what had happened to them and flee the city.

Chapter 15: Establishing a Church

2009-02-23T06:14:00.000-08:00

All week long, Abish heard of many comings and goings in the palace. Hundreds were taught the gospel. One of the Lamoni’s pools in the courtyard was designated as a baptismal font. Many were baptized. Ammon appointed a few others who could do this work also, otherwise he would have spent most of the day dripping wet. Lamoni had been the first baptism.

Abish sighed as she looked out the window to the back of the palace; she would have liked to have been second, but it wasn’t possible. After her initial burst of spiritual energy, the queen had become very ill. Her milk all but dried up and she was too weak to even hold the baby. She was bleeding badly and Abish feared that even if she did survive she would never have another child. Lamoni, when he wasn’t preaching, was at her side. Ammon blessed her and kept vigil too. Abish fasted and prayed. She knew that she would never be able to look back on the joyful events of this week with anything but sadness if the queen passed.

Finally, after nearly a week of being on the verge of death, the queen took a turn for the better. Her fever broke, and although she was weak, she was very hungry. In her deep relief, Abish slept soundly for her first night in many days.

The next morning she awoke slowly feeling well and rested. The queen had also slept well and Abish left her in the hands of a healer. She wanted to explore the changes taking place in the palace and in the city. The first thing she noted was that the slaves were gone. The cook in the kitchen explained that they had all been freed—either allowed to go home or kept on as paid servants. Within the palace walls, several private huts were being built for those who wanted to stay. One of these residences was being fashioned near the queen’s room, so that Ham might stay with his wife for the many months that she would be Sariah’s nurse. Abish walked through the courtyard, marveling at the changes and well-pleased with the general feeling of happiness she felt from people and saw in their faces.

She was strolling casually when Ammon found her in the garden. She smiled and waved when he saw her. “Hello, Abish.” He said simply as he fell into step beside her.

“You and Lamoni have been busy.”

Ammon smiled and shrugged, “You never know what the Lord is going to do.”

“I thought I almost ruined it. My big mouth nearly got you killed that day.”

Ammon continued smiling, “But my life is in the Lord’s hands. I will not die until it is my time to do so. There is still much work for me here. Besides, the people you gathered witnessed some remarkable miracles. Many have told Lamoni and I that they have become believers in part because of what they were witness to that day.”

“Really?”

“Yes. But more important than any additional preaching today, my priority is to get you baptized. That is what you want isn’t it?” He said slyly as he gave her a sideways glance. She smiled in reply, knowing that he already knew the answer. “You have also been very busy, Abish.”

She nodded, the fatigue and worry from the last days momentarily clouding her face, “I think all will be well now.”

“Good. Lamoni has nearly eaten himself up with anxiety over her.”

“He is a good man.”

“The best. He is like a brother to me.”

“The two of you will do many great works in this land, for these people.”

“You will be a part of that work too, Abish.”

She smiled and nodded, “I hope so. It is as if a great weight has been lifted from my heart. To no longer hide my belief is the most freeing feeling I could ever imagine.” They walked through the garden in companionable silence for several more minutes. Abish finally said, “I’ve had a question in my mind for a few days now.”

“Go ahead.”

“How many of those sheep-stealers did you really kill?”

Ammon laughed right out loud at her question. He too had heard the rumors of his superhuman strength. “Seven.”

“So not the reports of thirty that some have said, but not the two or three I actually suspected.”

“I am not sure if that is meant to compliment or humble me?” he said with a question in his voice, but she knew he was definitely teasing now.

“Maybe a little of both. Let’s see about that baptism, huh?”

As she rose out of the water that day she had never felt happier. Her heart was light and free and for a moment she believed that nothing in her life would ever be wrong again. Ammon helped her out of the water, and she immediately began drying off, though such a thing was hardly necessary. It had been another hot day, as it nearly always was. The difference was that today some clouds were actually gathering. There hadn’t been a proper and lengthy rainy season in the land for so many years that it was hard to even remember the last time there was a good, cooling downpour.

Abish nodded happily as Ammon explained that her confirmation would be done later. It was taking longer to get through the confirmations because he was the only one, for now, with authority to do them. He also explained to her about the Holy Ghost and what that would mean to her when she was confirmed. He then made a statement that seemed out of place, “Lemhah tells me you read and write.”

“Yes.”

“Very well?”

“I haven’t had a lot of practice, but I think I have a knack for it.”

“Do you think you could record the names of the baptisms and confirmations? In Nephite lands we keep records of such things so that members of the church might be fellowshipped and helped.”

“I think it is a great idea. Have you kept track so far?”

“Pretty well. Lemhah has been a great help, but he is also busy with other duties in the palace.”

Suddenly there was a loud noise from the sky, like a thousand people clapping together at once. Abish screamed and looked up, the sky had grown dark in just the few minutes they had been in the courtyard, “What was that?”

Ammon laughed good-naturedly at her reaction. “Thunder. You know, like before a big rainstorm. It looks like we are in for a huge one today.”

“Thunder? It has been so many years since I’ve heard it.”

Suddenly, a breeze picked up and there was the most wonderful smell in the air. “Uh-oh.” Ammon said.

“What?”

“That smell means the rain is nearly here. We’d better make a run for it or you’ll be baptized twice today.”

They ran headlong for the palace but didn’t quite make it before the skies opened up. They were both laughing when the reached the portico, though Abish had to admit she was also a little bit startled. “Well,” Ammon said, “I guess you will always remember your baptism day.”

Indeed, Abish thought, the first day of the rest of her life.

As the church grew, Lamoni and Ammon became serious about organizing it. Small congregations were organized and visited often by Ammon himself to ensure that the preaching remained pure. Abish often followed Ammon to places where he preached and copied down the words he said. People remembered her from the day many of them became believers and her notoriety as a midwife expanded and she became very busy that way as well. She chuckled sometimes thinking that her reputation was stronger than her actual skills—not unlike Ammon and his sheep.

One afternoon some months after Ammon had come, when Abish was not particularly busy, she was in the queen’s chamber, spending the afternoon with her. Little Sariah was adorable; her features were just like the queen’s but she had Lamoni’s dark eyes, hair and skin. She was rolling around the ground to get to where she wanted to go and Abish was sitting on the ground with her as she explored her environment with giggles and coos. She idly wondered what it would be like to be a wife with a baby. In some ways it would probably be quite wonderful, but then, in other ways she greatly enjoyed her newfound independence as well.

The queen sensed her mood, “And what will be next for you Abish?”

She smiled. “I’m not sure. I’m quite content.”

“And you are still young; barely 17.”

Abish sat up, crossing her legs. “I think my sister had a baby or two by the time she was my age.”

“Perhaps you will look for your family now.”

“I have thought about that, many times. I’m not even sure where I would begin. Truthfully, I’m not sure how close I feel to them, even my mother. Besides, it is difficult to say how well the rest of the Lamanites are going to take all of these believers in their midst.” The queen nodded. Abish knew that such a thing had been a frequent topic of conversation between Ammon and Lamoni. In fact, the week after Ammon came, Lamoni was supposed to have gone to a feast day to celebrate his father’s 25th anniversary as ruler of the Lamanites. All of his sons, as well as the other Lamanite nation kings had been invited. Between teaching the gospel and the queen’s unexpected illness, Lamoni had stayed behind. The queen had tried to encourage him to go, fearful of Lamoni angering his father, but he reasoned that her health and God’s work were more important. He sent word that he wouldn’t attend, but Abish wasn’t sure how much he had explained. Now, all these months later, he was considering taking Ammon to meet his father to try and convince him to allow the preaching to spread to other parts. Ammon spoke often of finding his brothers to find out what their success had been. Only when large numbers of the Lamanites were converted could those in the Land of Ishmael be assured of any real safety.

There was silence for a few moments; perhaps the queen was thinking the same things. Then she said, “I was thinking that you might like to move outside the palace.” Abish sat up, momentarily startled. “Don’t look so shocked, darling. Most of those who were once slaves have done so. If you would like to stay there is plenty of room for you, but you might like the independence that it would afford you.”

She tugged at her hair that was growing painfully slow. Still it nearly covered her earlobe and with the practice of slavery being banned, the notch in her ear meant very little. At least in the Land of Ishmael, “Perhaps.”

The queen nodded too. “It was just a suggestion; I love having you here.”

Abish leaned back down on her elbow and held a delicately carved rattle for the baby who followed it very carefully with her eyes and made clumsy, grabbing motions for it. “I love being here; especially now.”

There was another long pause and the queen cleared her throat and said mildly, “Dinner conversation has certainly been livelier since a certain young man joined our household.”

Abish’s cheeks burned hotly, but she kept silent, trying to pretend ignorance, but it was nearly impossible to ignore Ammon’s natural charm and magnetism. Sometimes it seemed that Ammon often sought her out for things that could have just as easily been done or answered by someone else. There were others who could do the scribe work that he pretended she was so wonderful at. And more than one woman in travail in recent weeks had received a blessing from Ammon himself as he accompanied Abish to their homes, particularly if it was late at night.

She continued to flush under the queen’s direct gaze, unable to reply until the queen said softly, “You admitted to me yourself once that he was handsome. Would such an alliance be so terrible?”

“I think that Ammon has become a very good friend recently. I do not want to read more into it than is really there.” As the words came out, they sounded so level-headed, but Abish could not ignore the way her heart seemed to thump in her chest when she thought of marrying Ammon. “Besides, Ammon is a prince.”

The queen shrugged, “And you are a daughter of God. This makes you a princess in your own right.”

Abish shifted uncomfortably, “I feel like I’ve spent my whole life trying to be invisible. It is still difficult to imagine a different kind of life.”

“I am sure that will change in time. You know, my friend, even before the gospel came to us, there was something about you. I’ve never known a woman to carry such a light in her eyes or such capability in her hands. A man like Ammon would be just the kind to recognize such powerful gifts.” Abish looked away, feeling her cheeks burn anew with the compliments she was not used to hearing. The queen gently prodded, “Maybe it is time to be on your own—to discover who you really are and what you might be capable of.”

“Maybe you are right.” She smiled at the queen, enjoying the way friendship felt after so many years without it.

Just then a servant came to announce that Ammon wished to see her. The queen nodded and Ammon entered. He was unusually pale and obviously distraught. “Have you seen Lamoni?” He came right to the point, uncharacteristically forgetting his manners or his charm when it came to the queen. Something definitely was wrong.

The queen sensed it too. “Not for several hours; whatever can be the matter?”

“I’ve just received some news I need to speak with your husband about; if you see him, please tell him that I’m looking for him.”

The queen smiled gently, “I certainly will, but is there any way that Abish and I might help you?” For the first time since entering the room Ammon looked sideways at Abish, startled to see her sitting on the floor. He really hadn’t seen her. He still didn’t seem to see her and just answered, “No my lady; I am sorry to have bothered you.”

“It is no bother, Ammon.” Abish said and then repeated the queen’s request, “Are you sure there is nothing we can do?”

“I’m sure. I’ll leave you now.” He was out the door before anything else could be said. The queen shrugged as Abish looked at her, puzzled.

The queen said, “I suppose time will tell if it is something we need know.”

Abish agreed and added, “He was certainly agitated.”

“Yes, I’ve never seen him like that before.” The subject was quickly dropped, as nothing more could be said. Abish spent the rest of the afternoon entertaining the babies. Sasha’s boy was toddling everywhere on his short, chubby legs. Nothing was safe from his prying hands, but there was something utterly adorable about him too. Home and family or independence? In her heart she hoped that she wouldn’t have to choose one over the other.

That afternoon was the last restful time she had for several days as she helped five mothers give birth. Four boys named Ammon and a little girl name Shammon. She bit her tongue to hold back the laughter after the last boy was born. It had been happening a lot lately. When all these children grew up they would have to be numbered to keep them straight. Two of the births had been difficult and she’d spent an entire three days away from the palace. She was anxious for a good night’s rest and a bath.

Despite her late night deliveries, Ammon had not sought her out to join her as he often did and she wondered if the source of his anxiety would be revealed when she went back to the palace. She chided herself for how much she missed his company. She knocked quietly on the door, unsure if the queen would actually still be awake. Zaria answered with a very distressed look in her eye and exclaimed, “Oh Abish, come in; we have just learned the most awful thing.”

Chapter 14--Conversion

2009-02-11T11:23:00.000-08:00

Despite the wonderful prospect of staying up to speak with Ammon that night, exhaustion got the better of Abish and she too fell quickly asleep. The rest didn’t last long. Little Sariah was awake just a few hours later. Abish gently roused the queen, who practically nursed the baby in her sleep. Then Abish took the infant and rocked her near a moonlit window. She hummed softly to the wrinkly bundle in her arms who soon dozed. Before she could stand to lay the baby down, however, Ammon joined her.

“Sorry to wake you.” Abish said in a whisper.

Ammon shrugged. “If my faith was better I would be sleeping like a baby, but the truth is my stomach is all tied in knots.”

“He will arise in the morning.”

Ammon smiled at her. “Yes, indeed, there is something special about the faith I have already seen among the Lamanite women.”

“Perhaps the conversions are just beginning.”

“I hope so. It is the reason I came to this land.”

“I have wanted to ask you about that.”

“It is an interesting story really.”

The baby breathed a sigh and slumped further down into Abish’s arms. Abish smiled. “I have plenty of time. I think Sariah has settled in for the night.”

“Sariah is an interesting choice.”

“It was the name of the queen’s grandmother; she is an Amalekite you know, although her mother was a Lamanite. Now, for your story.”

“My father was the King of the Nephites. How is that for a start?”

“Pretty good. Now I’m really curious.”

“I am the oldest, so I grew up knowing that I would one day be king. In Zarahemla, however, it works differently than here. While I had many opportunities as a young man, I was also expected to work to support myself, as my father and my grandfather did before me. I hated being a farmer. I couldn’t understand why, when we were the royalty of a nation, the people shouldn’t work to support us. It burned me up inside. My father was very good friends with the head of the church, Alma. Alma’s oldest son was also named Alma and we ran around a lot together, though he is some years older than me. We began to see the Church as the source of all our woes.”

“How so?”

“With the Lord’s strong teachings on self-reliance and caring for the poor and so forth, it became very easy to see that because of the Church my father cared more for others than he did himself. I thought this was a very bad thing. Alma and I would stay up late at night throwing rocks in the lake behind my house and complaining to one another about the state of things. We decided that if we could lead people out of the Church, it would have less and less power over the way the kingdom was governed. My father would have to exert greater control and actually become a king instead of just a farmer.”

“That seems a little twisted.”

“Oh, it was. Then, as we began going around and speaking openly against religion and God and our fathers, there was no logic to it at all. I was doing it for the power.” His voice had risen slightly, and the baby stirred. He was silent for a moment while the baby re-settled herself and then he continued, in a softer voice. “It was during those years that realized I had a great gift for speech. I had a way of finding just the right words to lift an angry crowd off the ground. Alma and I did much damage to the Church. And I dragged my brothers into it.”

“They just followed your poor example?”

“Not exactly. My brother Aaron is younger than me, by just a year. While I was busy persecuting the believers, he had fallen in love and married young. When he had been married less than a year, his wife and baby died during childbirth. He was devastated and bitter. He had never fought against God before, but he was suddenly angry. I was there to fuel the fire with my damning words. He joined with us and then the younger ones came.”

Abish could hardly believe her ears. She cleared her throat and said in a whisper, “What finally happened to make you change?”

There was a long pause. Abish had almost begun to wonder if he’d heard her question or even dozed off when he answered with some emotion, “One day, while the five of us traveled to a city where a large group of our followers were, an angel appeared to us. There was a cloud and a voice. I didn’t understand the voice, but in our astonishment we fell to the earth. There were more words; we strained to hear what the message said but to no avail. Still, there was power in the words and we fell again. Alma was hit the heaviest; he was completely unable to speak and so weak we had to carry him to his father. His father rejoiced in his state and then invited everyone who knew of the event to fast and pray for Alma’s recovery. In spite of myself, I joined in. I was hoping that somehow Alma would awake and help us understand our experience. Maybe he had gotten something more from the angel and that is why he had reacted so much more strongly than we did.”

“Did he arise?”

Ammon nodded, “And the angel’s message and had been specifically for him. He taught us of repentance and redemption. He described the torments of Hell in a way I will never forget. We were converted from that time on and set about to make reparations for the damage we’d caused. We spent some years at home, but it was hard. Many of our followers stayed out of the Church and many believers continued to mistrust us, especially me, although Alma regained much of his credibility. My brothers and I decided that journeying to this land was the only way that we could attempt to redeem ourselves for our myriad mistakes.”

“Wow.”

There was another long pause filled only with the irregular, but normal, newborn breathing. Again, Abish wondered if her companion had gone to sleep when he said, “And what of you, Abish? How is it that you are so well-spoken and yet a slave? How is it that you are so young, but you have the wisdom to bring life into the earth? How is it that you are a believer with enough faith to pray a missionary to come to your King from hundreds of miles away?”

Abish told him the barest details, and though she still felt the familiar sorrow well up inside when she thought of her father, she realized for the first time that her sadness was completely void of bitterness. Recent events had done more healing for this wound than in all the years leading up to Ammon’s coming. She felt a glimmer of hope that she would feel whole again.

Just as she stood to go to bed, Ammon said, “My heart tells me that your powerful faith will yet play a role in all that is to come to pass. The miracle we have seen in this family is only the smallest portion of the work God intends in this land.”

Abish arose early the next morning. She hadn’t been able to sleep very well either for the anxiety that filled the pit of her stomach. She understood now what Ammon meant when he said that if his faith had been perfect, sleep would have been easy. The queen was unusually anxious too, but Abish forced her to eat, trying not to worry about the strain of the last days all over her face.

Finally, about mid-morning, they heard low groans from where Lamoni lay. The three exchanged pleased and anxious glances and went to his bedside. The queen reached out her hand to touch him when he suddenly sat up. He reached out his hand as well and caught hers midway. They exchanged a tender glance and Lamoni whispered fiercely as he kissed her hand, “Blessed be the name of God, and blessed art thou.”

He then went on to testify of the redeeming power of the Savior to all mankind. Abish again felt the now familiar swelling of joy in her heart and she glanced at Ammon who gazed intently on the tender family scene taking place. As the king’s voice raised in intensity, the door to the chamber was opened and Lamoni’s shepherds spilled into the room just in time to hear the very thing Ammon had prophesied. The exhausted king fell back against his bed; surprisingly, the queen slumped over him as well.

Abish rushed to her side and saw that she, like Lamoni from the day before was well, but caught up in some kind of a trance. Ammon picked up his testimony where the king left off and then prostrated himself on the ground praising God for the faith of the people he had come among. His words were filled with gratitude. While Abish was startled by all these happenings in a space of a few minutes, she could see that the other servants were frightened, or was it something else?

Within moments of seeing Ammon cry unto the Lord they began to do the same. They too knelt in an attitude of deep humility, asking forgiveness for their many sins and misdeeds. As she saw these men kneel in such humility, something deep inside of her snapped. For years she had contained her testimony, carefully hidden from the world. But today was the day to tell! Today was the day to testify of the song in her heart for the true God of heaven.

The door was blocked by servants, but there was another way out. The back of the queen’s rooms opened up wide into the courtyard, and just through the courtyard was the busy city square. In less than five minutes she would be to a place where she could tell hundreds of people of these events and lead them back to the palace to show them the amazing events of this day. Without another thought, she flung wide the doors and curtains that separated the queen’s chamber from the courtyard and ran as fast as she could to the heavy garden doors on the opposite side. There were guards there, but she merely said in her most commanding voice, “The queen orders this door open today so that all might come in and see a great miracle that has come to pass.”

The guards did as she asked and it surged her confidence for her message; she ran into the busy market square and stood atop a low wall. She shouted above the many hawkers there that day. “There has been a miracle in the land of the Lamanites today! A man has come to declare a message of salvation and peace to the king of this city. I have seen first hand the salvation of the Lord in Lamoni’s house. He desires all to come, see and hear this man whom God has sent to preach to us. The back gate of the palace courtyard is open even now that all might know the greatness of God.”

She had the attention of many and she continued in this vein until a large crowd had gathered. “I am but a servant to the King and Queen of Ishmael, but if you go now then you will hear the servant of the God of Heaven proclaim a message! Go! Find a way into the palace that you may learn for yourselves.”

Perhaps they were moved by her words, or perhaps they were just grateful for the diversion, but they began heading to the palace and sharing the news with their neighbors along the way. Abish left the square and called out to people in the street; explaining the need to go to the house of Lamoni. Some listened, others did not, but by the time she was ready to head back to the palace, word had spread and she was joined by many others. The crowd jostled along.

Reactions in the crowd were mixed; she was dismayed to hear some murmuring in the crowd about some great evil that had been visited on their people because they had heard the messenger spoken of was a Nephite. Others argued that the evil was brought about because of all of the men that the king had killed over the sheep incidents at the waters of Sebus. But the report that frightened her most came from a clump of large men she passed by unnoticed.

“I think the messenger people are speaking of is the Nephite.”

“You do?”

“Yes! The same Nephite who slew my brother just three days ago.”

“If he is the same man then we are wise to stay away; he is very powerful.”

The man scoffed at the comment, “He was prepared, and that is all. He is just a man. An open invitation to the palace is just the chance I need to find this Nephite and kill him. Until three days ago we had a lucrative scam going and this man has ruined it all, besides killing our friends. I will have my revenge today!” He drew his sword and he and his companions began pushing frightened people out of the way.

The heady euphoria Abish had felt since Lamoni’s awakening ebbed immediately at their words. Her only thought was to warn Ammon and perhaps Lamoni about what was coming, about what she had started. She felt sick and began making her own way through the crowd, hoping there would still be a private, back entrance into the house so that she could prevent this great evil.

She hurried as fast as she could, elbowing her way through the throng flooding Lamoni’s home and grounds. Her fear mounted as she heard the conversations around her. Rumors flooded from the palace that Lamoni and his queen were dead and that the Nephite monster had cast some sort of spell over them and the servants; that anyone who came near them was in danger of falling under the same spell. Abish entered the smaller door by the corridor, pushing through clusters of people, winning her several looks of disgust from those she’d gathered. She entered the chamber just in time to see the men with the swords rush through the room from the other side. The evil look on the face of their leader was unmistakable as he charged at Ammon; before Abish had time to scream warning the man with the sword fell dead to the ground. The murmurs immediately spread through the crowd again. A woman behind her hollered, “It is the Great Spirit; we must worship him too or suffer the same fate the others have.”

Some followed this directive while others resumed their arguments. The contention grew and grew around Abish until she ran to the midst of those who had fallen in an attempt to clear her head from the false accusations around her. Her heart felt as though it would break. How could such a beautiful day ended with such ugliness? How was it possible that she could have caused this to happen when she only wanted to praise the name of the Lord and have others do the same?

Years of unshed tears built up behind her eyes and she no longer tried to keep them back. They flowed unabashedly down her face and she felt desperate and scared. Her heart cried out to God and in that moment, the stillness she had felt on occasion swept through her heart and she knew exactly what to do. Blinded by years of tears flowing down her face, she moved clumsily to where the queen knelt, praying in her heart that her next action would somehow help to undo this great wrong she had unwittingly caused. She turned and faced the queen and knelt before her. She sensed a quieting in the room; evidently some had seen her kneel and were waiting to see what would happen. She slowly stretched her hand forth to take her hand. As she did so, she whispered, “Arise my lady.”

As soon as she touched the queen’s hand, Zaria stood straight up to her feet. She saw Abish’s dazed face and embraced her, laughing for joy. She cried with a loud voice, “Oh blessed Jesus, who has saved me from an awful hell!” She smiled brightly and looked around at the gathered multitude; it was now her turn to be dazed. She turned her eyes Heavenward and held her arms wide, “O blessed God, have mercy on this people!”

She stepped away from Abish and began speaking to the people of the vision she’d had. Many of her words were difficult for Abish to even understand as she taught doctrines Abish had never before heard and spoke rapidly, explaining everything at once. Then, she reached over as Abish had done and touched Lamoni’s hand. He also arose, looking around with eyes full of bright joy.

He was silent for a moment and the gathered multitude began murmuring once again among themselves. He strode to the center of the room and raised his hands up, “My people! It is not God’s will that you should contend with one another! It is his command that you hear his word and learn of the things I have been taught these last few days. If you will listen, you may stay as long as you like so I may teach you.”

The crowd thinned almost immediately, but those that remained were silent as they squeezed in for greater advantage. Lamoni began to preach with power and authority. Ammon picked up in this vein just a few minutes later.

Seeing the queen’s exhaustion, Abish took her by the arm and removed her down the hall to Lamoni’s quarters where she might get some rest. As she saw the joy so evident on Zaria’s face, Abish knew that every struggle and difficulty had been worth it.

Chapter 13: Two Nights

2009-02-02T11:13:00.000-08:00

Abish just stared. She had never before touched the king and didn’t move to do so now even though she’d had more healers’ training than any other in the room. She was grateful when Ammon moved so she didn’t feel compelled to. He touched the king’s head and listened to his chest and pronounced, “Lamoni is fine, probably just the shock from all he has learned. He should be taken to his chamber where he can rest comfortably.”

Lemhah issued some orders and in a daze the men carefully hoisted him and carried him into the hallway. Abish followed at a careful distance, with Ammon. She looked at him sideways and whispered, “Have you ever seen such a thing?”

Ammon smiled, “Only once. It was God’s way of redeeming a soul that was headed for almost certain damnation. He will recover.” Almost unwillingly, she trusted the confidence in his voice, wondering if she had sounded the same to Sasha earlier that morning.

“How soon?”

“It is not for me to say.” Abish felt mildly distressed, knowing that somehow she would have to explain all of these happenings to the queen. He caught her expression and said, “You have faith, don’t you?”

“I have faith; but I must relate these events to someone who does not—at least, not yet.”

“The queen?”

Abish nodded. “Queen Zaria is already overwrought emotionally. She has a very new baby, and the birth was difficult.” Abish flushed to be discussing such things with a man. “This will be hard for her to understand.”

Ammon nodded. “Perhaps it is best if I stay away until she wishes to see me.”

“Yes. Knowing that you are involved in these events may increase her distress.”

“Then I will wait.”

“And I will try to help her see.” She smiled slowly, “But I’ll leave the preaching to you. You are very good at it.”

“When the word of God is preached by the Spirit, both those who hear it and those who receive it are edified together. There is no better feeling of comradeship in the world than sharing the gospel.”

Almost without thinking she said quietly, “Then I expect that we will be very good friends.” They parted ways and she hurried her steps to be with the group that entered the queen’s room.

As predicted, the queen did not take the news of her husband’s episode very well. Abish tried to explain, but without Ammon’s preaching the story really didn’t make much sense. Perhaps it had been a mistake to caution him against coming because now the queen was adamant about not sending for him. Despite the testimonies of her servants, Abish thought she seemed fearful of the Nephite, though she was impressed by the presence of mind the queen kept for being a new mother. She maintained her authority very well and ordered Lemhah to not let word of any events leak out. The slaves were ordered to secrecy, though Abish knew how poorly such an admonition was kept among the servants themselves and was sure everyone in the palace would be discussing what had happened in about twenty minutes.

She allowed Abish to examine the king to determine the cause of his unconsciousness. Abish attempted, but she knew it was mostly for show. She trusted Ammon’s promise completely, and tried to reassure the queen. “He is fine; there is no injury or anything to indicate any trauma or damage. He will come out of this in a few days. His heartbeat is faint but steady. He will arise when it is time for him to.”

The queen regarded Abish closely, “I don’t mean to insult you, dear, you are a marvelous midwife, but he is hardly pregnant. I’m calling a healer.”

Abish tried to protest, but it wasn’t her habit to do so, so she decided to wait it out. As feared, the healer’s opinion was much starker. He told the queen that Lamoni had slipped into a coma it was unlikely he’d ever recover from. He suggested the king had been hit or even poisoned. Hearing this libel, Abish found the courage to protest. She argued that she had been there.

The healer glowered at her and answered, “I am not accustomed to being second guessed by slave-girls. I order you to hold your tongue.”

The queen looked exasperated, but whether she was more frustrated by Abish or the healer was hard to say. Not wanting to embarrass the queen or be slapped by the healer—a thing totally within his rights—she closed her mouth, praying with all her heart that he would leave very soon.

Before he left, he added, “I’ve seen this kind of thing before—the coma getting deeper and deeper. You won’t even know when the moment of death arrives until he starts to stink. I will watch him closely through the rest of the week and I would do all you can to find who has caused this to happen to him. This couldn’t have just been spontaneous.”

The queen sank into a nearby chair when he left. Abish quickly found a stool for her and helped her prop her feet. “This is too much decision making for a woman who just had a baby. I am so tired.”

“I’m sure.”

“Let me hear your version of events one more time without a chamber full of dirty shepherds or that nasty little healer.”

“Just relax for a little bit first.” Abish rubbed her feet gently.

“Where is Sariah?” The queen asked after a moment.

“Resting. She’s been with Sasha this afternoon. If you aren’t sleeping when she wakes up then I will have Sasha bring her to you.”

"I like her.”

“The baby or Sasha?”

The queen smiled lightly and leaned back in her chair, “Mmmm. . . Both I think. Well, I know I like the baby; I haven’t fully decided about Sasha yet, but she does come with your recommendation so she is probably wonderful.”

“Ammon comes with my recommendation too.”

"Yes; but perhaps you are just besotted by his blue eyes and fair skin.” In spite of herself, the queen’s grin was mischievous and girlish at the same time.

Abish smiled, trying not to blush and failing miserably, as she massaged. “He is handsome. I will admit that.”

The queen sighed and leaned back. “You know, I never found Nephite men all that handsome. I was actually grateful when I learned my father had promised me to a Lamanite. The alternative seemed too terrible. If you want handsome, a lady need look no further than Lamoni.” Her voice caught slightly as she said his name.

“He will be fine. You will be side by side with him in no time.”

“How can you be so sure?” The queen’s eyes were swimming with tears.

“With mine own ears I heard your husband tell Ammon that he would believe anything he said. I feel the same way. If Ammon tells me that your husband is just working through his salvation, then I know it is the truth.”

The queen nodded slowly, but Abish could see she didn’t understand. Abish continued, “Let tomorrow be a nice quiet day—just you and your baby and your resting husband. If he isn’t awake by tomorrow evening then perhaps you will want to send for Ammon and speak to him yourself.” The queen nodded again.

“It is a good idea. In the meantime, don’t slack off on that foot rub.”

But the next day was not a quiet day. Before Abish could arise and order the doors sealed to outside visitors, the healer returned with Lamoni’s three children close on his heels. Selah, a special favorite to Lamoni, was nearly beside herself with hysterics. They were already dressed in mourning clothes and the procession sent the baby into high-pitched catlike wails for having her morning feeding interrupted. Frustrated, the queen handed the baby to Sasha and began trying to sort through the mess.

The older boys were arguing over whether or not Lamoni had started to stink. The queen broke into their conversation loudly. “He doesn’t smell! His own servants bathed him just last evening and he is not dead.”

"But he’s going to die!” Selah wailed.

The queen looked like she would slap her, but refrained, “Pull yourself together, Selah! Nobody knows anything yet. He is just fine. Until we know more I would appreciate it if you would just pretend that he was sleeping.” Selah sniffed back her tears, knowing from the queen’s tone that it was unwise to be disobedient.

Unwilling to let it drop, the younger of Lamoni’s boys accused, “You wouldn’t tell us if he was dead! Then you could be queen all by yourself and the Amalekites would come and move into our palace.”

Abish couldn’t help but try and interpret the queen’s expression to that comment—it was a mixture of amusement, impatience and exasperation. “Clearly, Helamoni, you don’t know how it works. If your father did die, then your brother, Lemuel, would be the king. I would be nobody. And there are too many Amalekites for this house anyway. Now, it is very evident that neither of you are ready to be king yet, so your father wouldn’t die and leave his kingdom in such disarray, would he?” The brothers looked at each other and finally they both shook their heads.

“Now, please, just go. Your father needs it to be quiet so that he can recover.”

Abish added, “And your stepmother has just had a baby; she also needs it quiet so she can recover.”

The children were not gone more than a minute when the healer started in. This time the queen waved him off. “I will call for you again when you are needed. In the meantime, please do not hang around the palace scaring people with your speculation. I think we will wait this one out a little bit.”

He left, offended by both her tone and her words. But he wasn’t gone ten minutes when others began arriving—courtiers Abish often saw standing around hoping to advance their positions. The priests paraded through next. The noise alone was exhausting with the constant undercurrent of conversation about whether or not the king stank, and if his condition had anything to do with the Nephite in the palace. So, while it was apparent the servants had indeed gossiped, the healer had been no less reserved with his opinion.

“Enough!” The queen finally said aloud just after midday. The latest group of people in the door was headed by an undertaker who’d brought a funeral shroud and a group of six wailing mourners. When she asked him what he was doing he said that he’d been ordered, by someone in the palace, to bring burial clothes because the king was dead and they wanted to lay him in his family’s sepulcher that very day. Without even a reply, she ordered everyone out. The ensuing silence was wonderful. She sank, exhausted into a nearby chair. She was exceptionally pale and Abish quickly ordered a lunch for her. The queen drank a large cup of water. “I’m not feeling all that well.”

“Lunch will help.”

“Getting all this resolved would help more.” She waved her hand toward where Lamoni lay, so peaceful and oblivious to the chaos that had surrounded him that day. “He doesn’t stink, does he?” The queen had begun to even doubt herself.

“No.” Abish reassured her.

“I think maybe it is time I see this Nephite of yours.”

“Lunch first.” The queen agreed. Abish noted that she looked a little bit better after lunch, but she was still very pale. Seeing that the queen had eaten well, Abish stood to go get Ammon. “No, send somebody. I don’t want to be alone. And if anybody else comes, send them away.” Abish stood to follow her directive. “Wait. Send for the shepherds also, but ask them to wait in the hall.”

Ammon arrived within minutes. He was out of breath as if he had sprinted the distance. As he had been with Lamoni, he was supremely cordial with the queen in his manner of address and speaking, but even with the formality, his voice carried warmth and familiarity.

He bowed low, “What would you have me do, My Lady?”

Her words were likewise filled with formality, “Our servants have made it known to me that thou are a prophet of a holy God and that thou hast power to do many mighty works in his name. If you do, go in and see my husband. Thou knows that he has laid for two nights and days.” Her voice quavered slightly and her eyes filled with tears. Unable to stand any longer she sank against Abish’s arm and lowered herself into a chair, “Some are saying that he is dead, and that he stinks and others want to place him in the sepulcher! But he isn’t dead. And he doesn’t stink.”

Ammon smiled winningly at the queen and Abish noted that some of the color returned to her face as he did so. “Of course he isn’t dead, your Majesty. The veil of unbelief is being cast from his eyes so that he can behold the light and glory of God. When he arises his soul will be infused with a joy that surpasses understanding. He will be a new creature, born again by the power of the Lord.”

Abish’s heart burned and she prayed that the queen felt it too. Ammon walked to Lamoni’s bedside and knelt over him in prayer. His words were beautiful and alive. Abish had never heard such a prayer. As his voice faded, Abish heard the barest sniffle from the queen. He stood slowly and came to the queen. He bowed low in front of her again and took her hand. “He is not dead, but he sleepeth in God. On the morrow he shall rise. Bury him not.” He added his last, simple sentence with a gentle smile, knowing the queen had already vehemently decided against that. “Believest thou this?”

She smiled back at him, tears coursing freely down her cheeks. “I have no witness, save thy word, and the word of our servants.” She quietly took Abish’s hand as she said this, but kept her eyes directly on Ammon’s. “Nevertheless, I believe that it shall be according as thou hast said.”

“Blessed art though, because of your exceeding faith. I say unto thee, woman, there has not been such great faith among all the people of the Nephites.” He leaned forward and kissed her hand as he said these words. Abish truly believed that she would burst wide open from happiness in that moment.

The queen asked the shepherds to come in again to tell their story; she assured them that she believed them and asked that they return the next morning, that they might see Lamoni awaken. And then, she asked Ammon if he would teach her the things he had taught Lamoni. Abish heard much of Ammon’s sermon again, trying to commit portions to memory, wondering if she would ever grow tired of hearing him speak.

As supper neared, Abish asked that meals be brought to them. The queen stifled a yawn as they ate. Ammon took note, “Your majesty is tired.”

“You have no idea.”

“So where is this beautiful baby I have heard about?”

The queen smiled. “You are a flatterer, Ammon. But somehow I believe that you mean every word of it.”

Abish retrieved Sasha and the baby. Introductions were made, Ammon was especially differential when he learned that Sasha was Ham’s wife and was thrilled to meet their little son. Food was plentiful and Sasha was invited to join them. The queen startled them all with a sudden comment, “You know what? I am unbelievably happy. I am exhausted and actually feeling a little bit sick, but I’ve never felt so happy. Here I am, a Lamanite queen eating dinner with a Nephite, my midwife and a slave, and it doesn’t even matter. For the first time I feel an overwhelming love toward everyone around me. I would never have guessed that this feeling is the secret to true joy.”

Ammon nearly laughed with happiness at her simple statement and the song in Abish’s heart reflected Zaria’s feelings exactly. Ammon moved to leave after dinner, “You need your rest, Queen. There will be many days for sharing and teaching the gospel. I would not forgive myself readily if you became sick from the strain of these past days.”

“I will rest; I don’t think I could stay awake even if I wanted to. But will you stay and keep vigil with us this night? Abish has not been sleeping much herself for checking on me and Sasha and the babies. I am sure she would love your company.”

Abish felt the blood creep into her face, hoping her skin was dark enough to hide the heat she felt rush to her cheeks. Ammon bowed low, “As your Majesty wishes.”

Chapter 12: Three Days

2009-01-28T09:39:00.000-08:00

The queen’s pains began before Abish even fell back asleep. She quickly rubbed the sleep from her eyes and was at the queen’s side when she heard her cry out. It was still hours before dawn and Abish ordered the candles lit throughout the chamber. Her contractions were not close, but they were surprisingly sharp. The fear was apparent all over the queen’s lovely face and Abish worked to reassure her. Just after dawn, she sent word to Lamoni that today would be the day.

In less than an hour Lamoni himself was at his wife’s bedside. He was unable to stay long, but his appearance energized the queen. He comforted and reassured her, quite tenderly, Abish thought. Abish stayed back while he was there, although she sensed from his looks her direction that part of their discussion revolved around her. She bowed low as he walked toward the door, but instead of walking past her he stopped. “You, girl.” She glanced up, startled to be addressed by him, as she never had been before. His eyes were dark and unfathomable and for a moment he looked terrible to her. She looked down.

“Yes, Sire.”

“You are young to handle the life of my wife and child. I have my doubts, but she has expressed complete faith in your abilities and will have no other. Look at me.”

She raised her eyes to meet his, hoping she appeared competent and confident. He peered at her closely and continued in a low voice, “You will purchase your freedom this day if all goes well.” His gift was wholly unexpected and the look on her face must have shown her further surprise. “But by the gods, if any harm comes to this woman you will regret having ever laid eyes on me.” He swept from the room in a flurry of feathered robes. She nearly sank in fear to the deep rug underfoot, but the queen moaned and Abish quickly shook off the threat and focused on the job she had to do.

By late afternoon, Abish was exhausted. More than once she had to stifle a yawn and splash cool water in her face. She held the queen’s hand, massaged her back, rubbed her temples, spoke soothing words and held her eyes locked while she breathed. No matter how many times she was part of this miracle, she was always amazed by the strength of mothers. The queen’s progress was steady, but slow, and despite her exhaustion, Abish knew it would still be many hours before the baby was born.

As sunset approached, the queen fell against her bed, wholly drained. Abish had observed that the body changes during birth caused a woman to feel intensely sleepy between pains. Abish held the queen under her arms, stroking her damp hair softly. The pain was coming every minute now and her respite would not be long. In spite of herself, the prayer she’d carried in her heart all day spilled out of her mouth. “Dear God, she murmured against the queen’s cheek, this is a noble daughter. Please do not let her hard work this day be in vain. Please bless her with the righteous desire of her heart. If nothing else, bless her for the kindness she has often shown a slave girl.”

The queen stirred beneath her and Abish helped push her up to her knees to get on top of her next pain. While the lady never said anything about the words Abish had spoken, she seemed to do better after the prayer. She seemed more determined, more able. Instead of fighting the pain so desperately, she began working with it. Less than twenty minutes later her water broke and the progress started in earnest.

While Abish’s assistant held the queen’s arms Abish sat below the chair that had the bottom cut out of it. She was pushing well, but something was wrong. Abish knew the baby should be out by now. It had crowned, but wouldn’t drop. She was desperate for knowledge she didn’t have. Then, the Spirit whispered the peace to her heart she had longed to hear the entire day. Her fear left and she knew that she had delivered babies like this before. She pretended for a moment the stakes were no different and forced the queen to look at her. She gave instructions and used her expertise to find where the cord was wrapped around the baby’s neck. With a slip of her finger the obstruction was gone and then instructed the queen to push. Once. . . twice. . . .

And the baby girl was out into Abish’s hands, but all was not well. She was nearly blue in color and didn’t cry out the way babies usually did. Abish cut the cord and whisked her immediately away to the window where the last of the day’s sunlight was shining through, just feet from the blazing fire. It was the warmest spot in the room and the newborn’s blankets had been set up there. The queen was crying out, and Abish continued to shout encouragement while massaging the tiny purple limbs. Movement was scarce and no breath had been taken yet. Abish squeezed the girl’s cheeks to clear out the phlegmy obstruction in her mouth. On impulse, she began breathing into the little girl’s mouth, watching between each breath for her little chest to begin rising and falling on its own. She had never tried such a thing before and had nearly given up all hope when she saw a slight movement, then there was a cough and sputter and a terrifically loud cry. Her color instantly went from a sickly purple to a healthy pink in moments and Abish began laughing and crying all at once, wrapping and handing her to her mother immediately. She quieted quickly when the queen swaddled her close. The queen both wept as Abish cleaned up the afterbirth and the baby suckled.

After the baby was cleaned and fed, Lamoni was sent for and Abish stayed carefully away from the family scene. She felt a deep contentment and peace she only felt in the hours immediately after birth, especially a difficult birth. The perfect spirit of a tiny baby was so sublime it touched anything in contact with it for many weeks.

She studied Lamoni’s face from the side. Usually taciturn and reserved, he was animated and even smiling. This must be a side of him that the queen knew; the man that she had come to love despite having had no choice but to marry him. Again, before leaving he addressed Abish. This time she was better able to meet his eyes and didn’t feel as though she cowered quite so obviously before him. He called her by name, “Abish, you have done a good thing here today. My lady was right to put her trust in you. I will uphold my promise to free you, but it must be on the queen’s terms, as she sees fit. You do, after all, belong to her and not me.”

Abish fought the urge to reply that she belonged to nobody and instead bowed low as he left the chamber. She went back and sat by the queen, the exhausted baby sleeping peacefully beside her. “You should get some sleep, Your Majesty.”

“I’m too full of emotion to sleep. You look tired as well.”

“It was a long day.” And a long night, Abish nearly added.

The queen abruptly changed subject, “Has your slavery here been so awful?”

As always at such times, Abish chose her words with care, “You have always been most kind to me, my Lady. Sometimes I think you have almost been a friend. Even before I was an especial servant to you or even a midwife, Lamoni’s treatment was fair and just.”

“But you wish to leave us.”

“I have never expressed this wish.”

“Yet Lamoni promised you your freedom if this baby came to us whole, and if I survived my experience.”

“He did.”

“And you did not contradict his offer.”

“I am a slave, Madam. I am not in the habit of contradicting a king.”

She sighed deeply. “And regardless of how well you have been treated, you are still not free to make your own choices.”

“No, I am not.”

She held her free arm out and tipped Abish’s head slightly and looked at the notch in her ear. Abish was quiet, marveling that for the second time in less than a day somebody was really seeing her. “If I set you free, where will you go?”

“I have no where to go. This is the only life I have known for many years.”

“You must have come from somewhere.” It was the first time in the months she had slept in the next room that the queen ever ventured to learn more of her.

“It is not a place I can ever go back to.”

The queen nodded, understanding. She seemed to change the subject as she said, “During this long and difficult day, there was a moment you prayed over me. It somehow gave me great strength. I have never prayed, nor was I taught to pray, but when I was a young girl I had a grandmother whom often prayed. Your prayer to a personal, singular God reminds me of the prayers I would catch her uttering aloud at times. So, I say again, Abish, you must have come from somewhere.”

Abish wavered for a moment, the queen had not exactly asked a question, but the implication was obvious and she could no longer hide her past. “My father loved me deeply. He was an apprentice to the priests in the land of Middoni. Then he had a vision.”

“And what was this vision?”

“The only God who lives in the Heavens visited my father to tell him that the life he was following was an abomination. God exhorted him to actually read the scriptures hidden from the Lamanites. He was to call the Lamanites to repentance.”

“And how did the Middonites take this call?” She prodded gently.

Abish lowered her eyes, again feeling unfamiliar tears welling up, wondering how much longer she could hold them back. “He was killed. Sacrificed to false Gods on the temple altar.”
The queen shuddered. Lamoni was not always exactly a gentle man and his anger was sharp and sudden when it came, but she was grateful that human sacrifices were never performed in this part of the Land of Nephi. She wasn’t sure she could have ever gotten used to such cruelty regardless of political expedience. “Were you there?”

“My mother knew it was coming and she fled the city. I ran away before she could take me with her, and I stayed behind so that I would know his fate. After his death, my only choice seemed to be to try and locate her.”

“But you didn’t make it.” The answer was obvious and Abish shook her head slightly. “How can you be so committed and cheerful in your service to this household?”

Abish was again surprised by the many directions this conversation took. “My father taught me of his beliefs before he died. He knew I was committed to them. He admonished me to live for my beliefs. I have never forgotten his charge. I chose to stay behind with my father, and I knew there would be consequences for that. So instead of regretting having loved him more than I’ve ever loved anyone else, I try to be the person the God of Heaven knows I am.”

“And who is that?” The queen was clearly fascinated and Abish’s heart warmed within her.

“I am his child, as are you. As is this new life who has come to you and Lamoni this day. God loves us and wants what is best for us. I may not have exactly chosen to become a slave, but I learned quickly that my attitude would make all the difference in how I was treated, and particularly in my perception of how I was treated.”

“Your words bring me comfort and peace at the end of a long and difficult day.”

“Thank you for your understanding, but now it is time for you to get some rest.” Abish stood, fighting to keep her standing, her aloofness.

“I know. I just have one more question.”

“Yes?”

“Will you always be alone in your belief, or will there be a time that others believe too?”
Abish paused only a moment before whispering, “What does your heart tell you?”
The queen also hesitated before replying, “That a message of love and peace and kindness is just what this land needs.”

“There will be others. And I think the time is near.” The queen looked at her very directly as Abish curtseyed and turned once more to leave the room.

“Abish.” She turned back one last time. “The notch in your ear says you are a slave for life. Perhaps it is time you grow your hair out. I know you have no where to go, but you are free to if you would like. And if not, I would ask that you would stay here in the palace. We need a good midwife and I am sure that you could be paid for your services.”
Impulsively, Abish planted a kiss on the queen’s fair cheek. She repeated the spirit of Ammon’s words from the previous day, “It is my desire to be your servant, perhaps for all the days of my life. There has never been another who has shown such kindness; there has never been another I could tell my heart to. I will not leave you, or this household, as long as I am needed.”

“And I will release you from your oath when it is time.” The queen returned her simple kiss and the bond between them was sealed.

Abish woke up several times that night to check on baby and mother, but like most newborns, the baby was sleepy. Abish let them rest, knowing that tomorrow they would begin a regimen of making sure the little princess ate regularly to gain weight and thrive. She would send word to the servant quarters tomorrow that the queen was in need of a nurse; perhaps Sasha could be spared. It would allow her to spend hours each day interacting with her own son instead of strapping him onto her back. Finally, just a few hours before dawn she fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

While she wasn’t exactly refreshed the next morning, she still felt ready to face her day. She made sure the queen was comfortable and then made her way to the slave’s quarters, grateful to not be worrying about subterfuge. By the time she arrived, most of the room was emptied of women who were already about their duties. The palace was buzzing with news of the new baby; word of the nature of her birth had also escaped and Abish could see the near-awe that she was looked upon by the other women.

She finally located Sasha scrubbing floors in the dining room. Abish strode confidently to her side and then saw something that left her in great dismay. Sasha was crying. It was quiet, but profound. Her tears dripped down her face as she worked steadily. Abish was alarmed, “Sasha, whatever can be the matter?”

“It is Ham. . .” She sniffed loudly before she could finish.

“Is he all right?”

“He won’t be.”

“What has happened?”

“Today when they went out on shepherding duty, they called Ham. This is the Nephite’s second day and they actually allowed him to choose whom he wanted to come with him—like he is in charge or something! He picked the strongest and most obedient slaves to go with him. How could he have known that? And why would they let him punish all these good men?”

Abish was surprised at these tidings herself, but saw the situation in a very different light.
“Everything will be fine.”

“How?”

“I believe this man can protect his brethren as well as the sheep.”

Sasha’s tone went from sorrow to a kind of mocking bitterness in almost an instant, “Oh, that is right, I nearly forgot. He is your Nephite. How could any harm come to him or any around him if Abish says that he is the strongest and best. Abish, the one who can do anything can now predict the future too! He probably only chose Ham because of you—you are the one that convinced him to wake him up that night.” Abish was unsure what to say next. Sasha’s voice had risen slightly and she was nearly hostile.

“I am deeply sorry, friend.”

Her calming words seemed to take some of the steam out of Sasha’s tirade and in its place was just sorrow. “I am sorry too; I know this isn’t your fault, nor is it something you would have chosen for us.” “Maybe we will just have to trust God.” It was a thing she would normally never say aloud, but her conversation with the queen the night before made her bold.

Sasha scoffed, “I think the gods care very little for the likes of Ham and me.”

“And why not? You are good, hard-working honest people who are trying your very best to make a happy life. Why should you not be helped in such endeavors?”

Sasha looked at her for a moment, her tears finally subsiding. And, for the first time since finding her that morning, there was the slightest hint of hope in her dark eyes. “I don’t know why, but I find it surprisingly easy to believe you sometimes.”

Abish smiled, “Good. Because I have some news that you will really want to hear.”

Sasha readily agreed to be the princess’s nurse, if the queen would have her. As she agreed, tears came to her eyes for a second time. This time for joy. Such a position would mean much more time to spend with her child, and Sasha wasn’t ignorant of the other benefits of having the most powerful woman in the city as your ally.

The rest of the day was busy as the queen’s quarter adjusted itself to its new arrival. There were also many visitors—more than Abish would have preferred, but the baby was, after all, a Lamanite princess. Members from the court filed through, leaving many gifts, some of which were actually useful. The queen’s three stepchildren also lined up and dutifully kissed their little half sister. The older children had a good relationship with the young queen, but Abish could see the uncertainty on their faces. Now that she had a child of her own, would it be the same with them? But the queen had a kind and tender heart and would certainly not let her love be divided. Lamoni was in and out throughout the day, proud and attentive as a good father should be.

The next day Abish’s duties slowed considerably. The queen was doing well and so was her daughter. They decided to name her Sariah. Abish had raised her eyebrows slightly at the suggestion; she remembered seeing this name in the scriptures her father had once given her to handle. Sariah had been the name of the queen’s grandmother. And while Zaria herself had a Lamanite name, she suddenly seemed interested that this baby understand a measure of her Nephite heritage as well. She certainly didn’t look like a Nephite with her mass of dark hair, but only time would tell what color her eyes and her skin would actually be.

She knew that in the coming weeks, her position as the queen’s midwife would wane. There were other women in the palace and in the surrounding city who would need her services, but she was uncertain as to her role now. Would she continue living here? Was she really free to go as she had wished? Perhaps she had been too hasty to pledge her life to the queen in a moment of deep emotion. She tugged at her short hair. Maybe she would have to let her hair grow before she made any decisions at all.

Sasha was enthusiastic in her new duties. After less than a day she said to Abish, “I’m doing great. I’ve never eaten so well in my life and I have loved taking care of the babies all day. There is just one thing. . .”

“You would like to know how Ham is, or to let him know where you are.”

She nodded. “Yes, that is exactly it.”

“I will find out what I can.”

Abish wasn’t exactly sure how she would find out the information she sought. She wandered toward the King’s court not knowing what she would do next, but grateful to have some task to occupy her time. She was curious about Ham herself; besides, learning about him would help her to learn the fate of Ammon as well. She wandered into the back of Lamoni’s receiving hall, half expecting it to be empty so late in the day, but instead the room was crowded with people, straining to see past one another. Surprised, Abish squeezed through the group to a vantage point to the side of the room. As soon as she saw what the commotion was about, she nearly gagged.

Five men, one of whom was Ham, stood in the center of the large room speaking to the King. On the floor in front of them, in a very large basket, were arms. Actual, severed, human arms. They were speaking rapidly, and sometimes over one another, answering the King’s questions as quickly as he could ask them. Abish was thoroughly confused; it was easy to see that she had missed most of the story. She concentrated carefully, trying to piece together what had happened. Ammon was no where to be seen.

After listening for several minutes, as near as she could tell, it seemed that the men and the sheep had been attacked by a large group of men. Ammon had killed several of them with his sling and cut off the arms of any person who raised a sword against him. Abish believed their outlandish tale; the hacked arms were evidence of that.

They finished their retelling of the events and Lamoni sat in stunned silence for what seemed like several minutes. People in the room began to shift their weight uncomfortably and the closeness of the warm bodies caused Abish to begin sweating. Lamoni finally said, almost to himself, but still using his most king-like and courtly language, “Surely this is more than a man. Behold, is not this the Great Spirit who doth send such great punishments upon this people because of their murders?”

The servants looked startled at Lamoni’s words, uncertain how to respond. After several seconds, Ham cleared his throat and spoke up, “Whether he is the Great Spirit or a man, we don’t know,” he paused for a moment to glance at his companions and continued, “but this much we do know—that he cannot be slain by the enemies of the king.” There was murmured agreement in the group.

Another man, standing next to him, chimed in, “Neither can they scatter the king’s flocks when he is with us, because of his expertness and great strength.”

Ham nodded, “Whatever else he is, we know that he is a friend to the king.”

The last member of their party finished the glowing report, “And now, O king, I do not believe that man has such great power for we have seen that he cannot be slain.”

Lamoni responded when there was a break, “It must be the Great Spirit. He has come down at this time to preserve your lives, that I might not have you killed as the others before you. This is the Being that our fathers have spoken of!” Abish’s heart sang within her. She had never before heard Lamoni purport to have any religious belief. If he could acknowledge there was indeed a God in heaven, regardless of how distorted his tradition was, then certainly Ammon could find a way to talk to him.

Again, there was a space of silence for several seconds; Abish saw some kind of emotion and expression working across Lamoni’s generally stern features. It seemed that Lamoni was deeply agitated, even fearful. Abish could believe it; Lamoni sincerely thought that in facing Ammon again he would be facing his Maker. She was impressed by his boldness when he finally spoke in a voice barely above a whisper, “Where is this man who has such great power?”

Ham bowed low, suddenly chagrined, “If it please your majesty, Ammon is feeding your horses in preparation for tomorrow’s journey to the land of Nephi. It was the other job Lemhah had given to us to do this night, but we thought you would be interested to learn of these events first.”

The king’s face betrayed open astonishment now. “And yet he did not come here to boast of these deeds to be raised up in the eyes of my court? Instead he continues to follow the commands of my steward? Surely there has not been any servant among all my servants that has been so faithful as this man, for he remembers to follow through on all my commands. I desire that he should come see me, but do I dare?”

In frustration, he dismissed the crowd in the chamber. She could see the sweat bead on his brow. The heat was getting to him also, it was indeed hard to think in the crowd of people. She’d positioned herself near the front of the room against the wall, so it would take some time for everyone to make their way out. Ham was leaving the room the same time she was and she caught his attention. The room was mostly quiet, so she whispered to him where his wife was. He opened his eyes in surprise and mouthed the word ‘thank you.’ This had indeed been an astonishing day for him all around.

She heard Lamoni shift his weight on the dais behind her, and then, surprisingly, she heard her name called. She turned abruptly to see that it was only she and the king left in the room. She bowed low to him. “Is all well with my wife?” He queried quietly.

“Yes, your majesty. I only came to tell your servant, Ham, that his wife is now nurse to Princess Sariah and her sleeping arrangements have been changed.”

“Ham? The short man who spoke here with these others?”

“Yes sire.”

“He is a good servant.” Abish said nothing, but again nodded, looking down. “As are you.”

“Thank you.”

“The queen told me yesterday that you know something of the Nephite religion, more even than the queen herself who was raised among a Nephite people.”

Abish looked up, stricken. She had been honest with the queen, because it was her habit to be so. She didn’t consider that the queen might betray her confidence, particularly to Lamoni. Images of her father’s death danced before her eyes and she was suddenly afraid, but concealment was not an option. “Yes.” She responded, the word barely creaking out.

“Have you seen this Ammon?”

“I was in court the day he arrived.” She kept further information to herself. Knowing of the midnight visit might weaken the awe he felt toward Ammon at this moment.

“And what think you of him?”

Abish could scarcely believe this remarkable turn of events. A king asking her opinion! Still, she was careful for while he was vulnerable in this moment, he was still a man of great power and temper. “I think you should send for him; I think he means Your Majesty no harm.”
Lamoni abruptly clapped and Lemhah appeared. Abish stayed planted in place, having not been dismissed. “Ask Ammon to come into me if he is willing to see me.”

Lemhah bowed, “I believe he is on his way even now, Sire.”

The king suddenly looked stricken. Abish waited in silence. Would he ask her to move? Leave? Was there any way that she might be witness to this extraordinary meeting? The king’s eyes were wide, again the fear and uncertainty played through his face and anxiety oozed from him. She faced him directly, but she didn’t think he even saw her. His eyes were trained on the door, staring.

She heard a noise behind her. The king stared, as if frozen. Abish whirled quickly. Ammon stood in the doorway. He was filthy from his days’ labor, but his eyes were bright and his chin was strong. Abish’s stomach flipped as it had the first time he looked at her. She had never seen such strength, intelligence and beauty embodied by one man. Ammon glanced at her, but then saw past her to the king. He regarded the heathen king silently for a moment and then moved as if he would leave again directly.

Abish, nearly breathless, dared to speak the words the king could not, “Rabbanah,” Ammon’s eyes darted to her face. He knew the word—it was the word for great, or powerful king. Such a word was never even referenced to Lamoni, but only to his father. It gave him pause and she continued in her most courtly language, “Rabbanah, the king desireth thee to stay.”

Ammon strode forward and stood in front of Abish, who carefully bowed and took four or five steps back. He looked at Lamoni with boldness and queried, “What wilt thou that I should do for thee, O King?”

There was a long pause while Lamoni attempted to gather his wits. Abish’s back began to ache from standing still for so long. It seemed like an hour. Ammon finally repeated his question, but still the king was unable to answer. The pause was interminable, but Ammon’s booming voice finally filled the silence, “You have heard of my deeds this day, and you marvel because of it. But I am no god; I am just a man, and your servant. You desired that I should defend your flocks. I have done no more or less than what thou commanded.” Ammon’s words were as courtly as Abish’s had been. Their exchange was so formal and yet somehow personal at the same time. Abish thought she would weep for joy at the mere sound of the language.

Lamoni answered in kind, “Who art thou, that you can discern my thoughts? You say you are a man, but you must be the Great Spirit.”

“I am not.”

“Then how can you know the thoughts of my heart? Speak boldly, and tell me of the things that give you such great power of spirit and body. If you will tell me these things, whatever you want I will give unto thee. I would guard you with all the armies under my command, but I know that you have no need of this; you are more powerful than all of them. But whatever you want. I will give it, freely.” He bowed his head, as if to a sovereign.

While Lamoni’s head was down, Ammon turned his face slightly to Abish. He gave her a half-smile, a knowing smile. Hadn’t she told him just three days previous that if he would defend these flocks faithfully then Lamoni would listen to any message? She had been right; his almost-amused smile told her that she had been right. It was his way of thanking her for her help. She perceived Ammon’s wisdom, but his harmlessness in a moment as he said to the king, “If I tell you of the power by which I do these things, will you promise to listen to all my words?”

He glanced up, sharply. “That is it? All I must do is listen?” Ammon nodded. “Very well, say on; I will believe all you say.”

Ammon moved from his bold stance for the first time. He sat next to King Lamoni, at his feet and looked into his face. Lamoni moved to sit next to him. Abish was amazed; she had never seen such a thing. Abish also moved to sit, wordlessly, silently where she had been standing so that she might not be asked to leave. And, as predicted, Ammon built on Lamoni’s belief about a great spirit. He helped Lamoni to understand that there was only one God of the Universe who had created all things, including heaven, a concept Lamoni had never heard. He told the king of a personal God who knew his very thoughts and intentions. Ammon taught by asking questions and allowing Lamoni to think and listen. Abish’s heart sang out with great joy at the knowledge being reawakened in her heart as she listened to Ammon teach with such patient sincerity and love.

Lamoni asked, in awe, “Art thou sent from God?”

Ammon repeated, “I am just a man, like you, Lamoni. But the greatest part of the message I have come to share is that man, from the very beginning, was created after the image of God. We are his children! He loves us and is concerned for our well-being. So he sends his Spirit to help us learn of Him. I have been called by that Holy Spirit to teach these things unto you and your people, that you might all be brought to the knowledge of what is just and true. A portion of that Spirit dwells in me, and gives me knowledge, as well as power, depending on my faith and my righteous desires. You feel it right now too, don’t you, Lamoni?”

Lamoni nodded slowly, “I do! I feel everything in me expanding, growing. I cannot even explain it, but I know that you are sharing the truth.”

Ammon nodded along with Lamoni, growing more enthusiastic as the king spoke. Abish found herself nodding too. “That feeling is the beginning of testimony. As you gain knowledge of things as they were, are, and are to come, you will feel it continue to grow and expand until you cannot contain the joy you feel.”

“Teach me, Nephite, tell me of these things.”

Ammon smiled, clasping his arm on Lamoni’s. “No longer Nephite and Lamanite, but brother to brother I will teach you these things.”

“And not just me, will you teach those in this palace too?”

“I will teach any who will listen,” he pointed to Abish, “and we’ll start with her.”

Lamoni looked at her, noticing her for the first time in many minutes. He smiled at her. “Yes, indeed, and any others who are about.” Abish jumped, searching corridors for any she could find immediately. Lemhah had been waiting not far away and seemed impatient at her request, but willing to follow the king. There were other servants about, including Ham and those who had tended sheep with Ammon. She gathered as many as she could in a matter of moments and they returned to the king’s chamber. Lamoni seemed pleased, “Yes, this will be a good start. There will be others, especially my family, but for now, this will do.”

Then Ammon began to speak. To Abish, it seemed like hours as Ammon spoke of the creation, the fall of man, the history of the children of God in the old land and the journey to the new. He told of the history of the Nephites and Lamanites in a way that Abish had never before heard. Lamoni was all astonishment as he heard a new version of events he had always been taught. Then, when the history lesson was past, he taught of the redeeming power of God through the coming of his Son. Abish could see the amazement and joy evident in the faces surrounding her.
As Ammon spoke of atonement and redemption, Lamoni hung on every word. Finally, when it seemed he had exhausted all words, there was a great, heavy silence. Lamoni sunk to his knees calling on God in the most desperate manner possible crying out, “O Lord, have mercy; according to thy abundant mercy which thou has had upon the people of Nephi. Please, Father, have such mercy upon me and my people.” Abish openly wept as she saw the desperation and torment of their king; she noticed that other eyes in the room were wet also, Ammon’s included as he knelt near the king, adding his supplication to Lamoni’s.

And then, without warning, Lamoni dropped to the ground, as if he were dead.

Chapter 11: A Meeting

2009-01-13T09:51:00.000-08:00

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.

Chapter 10: The Servant of a King

2008-12-21T19:29:00.000-08:00

Abish stared idly out the queen’s window. Her majesty’s time was close, and in her fear she desired Abish to never be far from her. She was doing fine, but the birth of a prince or princess was a very important thing and Abish was not cavalier about her lack of experience. Almost daily they were making sure the baby’s head was down and tracking its movements to make sure that it was still alive and not agitated. Her body showed signs of being ready, but Abish believed it would still be several days. The queen emerged from her bath and handed Abish the brush. Abish worked slowly and methodically. The queen was unusually silent during this morning routine. After several minutes she finally said, “I am sure that you have been most bored these days, Abish.”

Abish smiled slightly, “Your bidding has been to stay near you. If your ladyship has been bored, then I suppose I have been too.”

The queen likewise smiled, “You should have been a diplomat, dear; you have such a way of putting things." Abish continued brushing, and after a moment the queen followed up. “But you are right. I’m excessively bored. There is little that I can do these days save sit around and grow fat.”

“You look lovely.” Abish smiled at the queen’s wry face in the mirror as she twisted the back of her hair and pulled it up. Abish had never seen the queen wear her hair up until just a few weeks ago. The weather had been beastly hot again and the pregnancy made the queen uncomfortable. The reddish masses were not as striking when they were up, but the queen was indeed lovely. Pregnancy had given her a glow that even Lamoni seemed to notice. In her experience, men became less attentive and even absent as their wives’ bellies grew, but the king had been just the opposite. He constantly deferred to her and never failed to put out a hand to help his wife. Abish had always believed Lamoni to be more impressive than the king she was raised under, but as she watched the treatment of the queen these many months, she liked him more than ever.

“Well, both of us don’t have to be bored. I’m feeling well today. Why don’t you go down to my husband’s court this morning and watch for anything interesting? After lunch we can stroll through the back of the palace and you can tell me all the gossip.”

Abish smiled, knowing her appearance in Lamoni’s throne room that morning would only cause him to wonder if the queen was delivering, but also knowing that the queen would trust no one else to report the affairs of the kingdom honestly. She bowed slightly, “As your majesty wishes.”

She made her way down to the king’s council chamber, concentrating carefully so that no wrong turns were made. She had not been to this part of the palace in many, many months and the corridors could be very confusing. In her concentration, she nearly ran into Lemhah as she rounded a corner with her head down. She flushed darkly, bowing her head and apologizing.

“That is all right, Abish. Is it her time, yet?”

Keeping her eyes averted, she shook her head. At some level she knew that she was a valued part of this household, but the she was constantly aware of her designation as a slave. “No sir, the queen only desired that I listen in the king’s chamber this day to bring her news of the court.”

“Very well, then. I will precede you to the counsel chamber and inform the King of your intentions to observe his court this day.”

She fell behind him, walking slowly so that he would have time to deliver his message. In just moments she entered the noisy room. Courtiers loitered, discussing business of the day. There were very few women, and all of them slaves. They were court slaves, and she knew none of them directly. They wore sheer gowns, in contrast to the tunics of animal skins that many of the men wore. These men were not warriors, but wearing the skin of a leopard or a puma gave a man great standing among his companions. It was likely their slaves or servants had killed these animals as well as prepared the clothing, but such a thing was never discussed. The women walked among the noisy men like ghosts, although stray eyes and even hands often wandered to the diaphanous fabric and the bodies underneath. Abish knew the queen was vehemently opposed to these women and their presence in the king’s court, but while the queen would vent her criticism and even venture to disclose that she had spoken to her husband about it, she never went so far as to tell Abish what his response had been.

Abish listened with one ear to the commonplace comings and goings within Lamoni’s sphere of influence, but her thoughts were far away. She knew she should pay attention or miss hearing something that might interest the queen, but while she might report faithfully what she hear, it held little real interest for her. Her mind strayed, as it often did in recent weeks, to what might happen to her after the baby came. Her chance encounter with Lemhah had reminded her again that she was still a slave to this family, though her duties were light and her status was valuable. Their might be a chance to marry. She was not beautiful, but she wasn’t ugly. The queen had a large sheet of brass that had been hammered and polished until it shone brightly. If the light was good, a person could actually see their reflection in it. The queen had once offered to allow Abish to look into this great treasure. She was surprised that beyond the plainness there was something else, a fire and light in her eyes that made her appearance unique, maybe even striking. Her face reminded her of Armac’s, though her own was softer, more feminine. She would never have the delicate body or fine features of a Lamanite noblewoman, but she had something. In a rare personal comment the queen had even told her as much. Though she pretended to be oblivious as she did her work, there were sometimes stray glances her way. Yes, there might be a chance to marry.

As she thought about marriage to any of these men, she fought the urge to shudder. For all her confidence, she knew she was slightly afraid of men generally. The only thing that saddened her as much as the death of a mother or a baby was finding out the terrible particulars of the lives of some of the women she had helped. Terrible experience had shown her that all men were not as good and noble as her father had been. It was probably more accurate to say very few were like him. And for all her hard work, the slave-women in the inner court were a painful reminder that she was subject to any whim a man in the palace might have.

It was in the middle of this thought that she saw the Nephite for the first time. He was brought into the king by soldiers pushing their way to the front of the people still waiting audience with Lamoni. While guarded heavily, he didn’t seem to be struggling in any way. Although, thought Abish, he could have been struggling if he wanted to be. His tunic fully covered him from his shoulders to his knees, but his arms and legs were strong and lean. He appeared to be at total ease. He was nearly dark enough to be a Lamanite, but the tone of his skin was somehow different than Lamanite skin. His hair, rather than being black like nearly every person she had ever seen, was barely brown. His eyes also gave him away for what he was—clear, bright, blue and wide, soaking in everything around him. Abish, forgetting that she generally kept her eyes averted, stared openly. While the guards were explaining where they had found him, she found herself completely and fully mesmerized by his presence. There was light all around him, or so it seemed. She understood that he wasn’t exactly radiating, but there was something about him that drew her to him, the way plants grew toward the sun. In a flash she knew that marriage would not be the end of the world if there were men such as this in the world.

Lamoni was in the middle of asking Lemhah if anybody in the court spoke the language of the Nephites when the Nephite himself interrupted, “No translator is necessary, Your Highness, I can understand your words.” He bowed slightly, as he spoke, but Abish couldn’t help but think the bowing should have gone the other way. There was something royal about this foreigner. When he finished bowing, he smiled. It seemed to her that the whole room grew brighter.

The king, in spite of himself, seemed very pleased. A half-smile passed through his features, an expression she had sometimes seen when he was with the queen. “You are the first Nephite I have known to speak our language.”

“Have you known many Nephites?” The man’s tone was respectful, but surprisingly conversational.

“A few.”

“And what of them?”

“It is my pleasure what becomes of them, really.”

“You must be a very powerful king.” He bowed again.

“And you are a shocking flatterer, but there is something about you I like.” There was a pause as the king said this. He motioned a slave girl carrying a plate of fruit toward him. He began eating off the plate while he sized the man up. “So, Nephite, what is your desire? Did you just wander over from Zarahemla, getting lost in the jungle, or were you hoping to find warm reception here—to live among the Lamanites? Maybe right here in the Land of Ishmael?”

“I desire to dwell among this people for a time. Perhaps until the day I die. Which I hope, Your Majesty, is later rather than sooner.” There was an earnestness about him that made it impossible for Abish to take her eyes from him. He was indeed a flatterer, and he had a way with words, but she felt with her whole heart that each word was spoken with deep sincerity.

Lamoni motioned at his near guard, “Untie him.” The order was complied with immediately and the Nephite was unbound. “Now, perhaps we might get better acquainted. What is your name?”

“My name is Ammon, King Lamoni.”

“Ah, I see you already know my name.”

“A man would be a fool to travel so great a distance and not know the name of the one he had hoped to meet, or to learn anything of his customs.”

“I suppose that explains why you speak my language.”

“I learned it in the house of my father.”

Abish peered closely at him. In Lamanite lands, it was common to know more than one manner of speaking—their culture had been assembled from various others through generations, but she had thought the Nephites had only one language. Either Ammon had a Lamanite parent or he was a very important person to have had the leisure to devote to such learning. Lamoni must have been thinking the same thing, “But you have no Lamanite heritage.”

“None that I am aware of, Sire.”

“Perhaps you are a young man of nobility then, and you come to the Land of Ishmael to seek one of my daughters to wife. While I cannot say exactly why, I think such an alliance would very pleasing to me.”

Ammon was silent for a moment. The large hall was heavy with the waiting for his response. This too was cultural. While offering his daughter or daughter-to-be was a great honor to this foreigner, it also opened him up to bargaining with Lamoni. In an ancient practice taken from the old world, the father may exact any price he wanted in exchange for his daughter. Lamoni’s daughter was still a child, it would some years before she would be of an age to accept suitors. It would not be unusual for Lamoni to demand that Ammon act as his servant until she came of age or beyond. If Ammon accepted, he may as well sign his life away, but if he refused, then he may risk insulting a king. And while Ammon seemed to be weighing out this very thing, how could he possibly know of this tradition, mostly only observed by royalty?

Ammon looked around momentarily before he answered, and as he did he saw Abish for the first time. Her eyes locked on his and she couldn’t force herself to look away. She knew that it was only for an instant, that he had looked at many other people and things in the room, but his face was forever imprinted in her memory. Ammon finally spoke with low intensity, “You are a wealthy, powerful man, King Lamoni. With many riches and servants—no doubt your daughters are fair to look on and as noble as their father, but I did not come into this land to find a wife. I came to become your servant. Please allow me to serve your majesty in any capacity you see fit.”

The room was absolutely silent; Ammon’s words had trailed off to nearly a whisper and he held his head low. Abish exhaled her breath slowly. “Very well, Ammon. It is as you please. I will have you watch my sheep. It seems like it would be an easy job. I hope you find it so. Lemhah will show you where to go and what needs to be done.” He gestured again as he did so and his order was immediately followed. Lamoni’s tone had switched from one of intimacy, to one of coldness. Abish had seen this before—a slight change in tone or glance would show the subject had fallen out of favor with the king. Ammon, in a moment, had done just that; for watching the sheep was anything but easy.

Chapter 9: Separation

2008-12-11T09:45:00.000-08:00

Ammon crouched low, carefully placing the round stone in the sling. The rabbit was oblivious to his presence. They were hungry, and some fresh meat would be a welcome addition to what had been a very meager diet. It had been a year since they had each, in turn, rejected the Nephite kingship and truly began their mission, but they had not attempted to preach in any major settlements. They had been to, and run out of, several small villages. They’d spoken more earnestly to a few farmers, but Ammon was of the opinion that these simple folk listened more out of fear than any real interest. It was understandable. Besides Ammon and his three brothers, there were six others. If Ammon had been a Lamanite farmer who looked out the window and saw ten suspicious foreigners walking up to the door then he would do whatever they asked too.

The rabbit’s ears perked slightly his direction, Ammon held his breath. As the rabbit relaxed and turned away again, Ammon saw his chance and whirled his slingshot quickly, expertly. Before the rabbit had time to react, it was dead. He was glad for the direct hit; he hated having to wring a neck. He also hated skinning game, but Omner was always willing.

As he jogged quickly back to their camp he contemplated the other continual problem of their large group—food. There was never enough. The only time they ate well was when the same fearful farmers who were willing to listen became generous. It was a gesture of extreme sacrifice: parts of this land had been in a drought for many, many years; everyone was suffering.

As far as Ammon knew, the Nephites and the Lamanites had always been at war. This land they traveled through now had been in Lamanite hands for generations. They were never certain of where they were headed, but they had recently gotten some helpful directions. Another day’s journey in a generally southern direction would put them on a road to some major Lamanite cities. Ammon felt strongly that it was time to try their faith. He knew they had been willing to hop around through these small settlements because there was an undercurrent of fear they seldom spoke about. Ammon felt his pulse quicken at the thought of entering a large Lamanite city. He supposed fear was part of it, but he knew that he was also looking forward to it.

Then disaster struck. Always the leader, Aaron fell sick first, but it eventually Himni also and two of their other companions grew feverish and unable to eat without throwing up. One of these men, the oldest in the group, was struck the hardest. Manri had been a very close friend of Alma’s. He felt so strongly about joining them that he’d actually left behind a wife and three teenaged children. His parting had probably been the most difficult; the rest of them had been young. Himni was only 15 when they’d left two years ago. Aaron had been married once, but his wife had died in childbirth when they were both very young. Indeed, it was her death that had turned Aaron so bitter against the church. Joining with Alma and Ammon had really been a part of his angry grieving.

After staying many days in a makeshift camp, and after many blessings, Aaron and the others began to feel better, except for Manri. He seemed to get worse and worse. It was a somber time in their small band. Little was said at night around their fire. Ammon wanted to have discussion about how to proceed, but Aaron seemed reluctant to enter a dialogue. When Himni was nearly better, Ammon decided the time for waiting was past. Despite Aaron’s reticence, Ammon began anyway. He cleared his throat. “We are too large of a group for the job we are trying to do. We look like enemy combatants rather than missionaries.”

Omner spoke up, “I too had thought about this. It is difficult to reach out to others when we appear so intimidating.”

Aaron countered, “I think we are safer in our large group.”

“Maybe it is time to take a chance, and shake off conventions about what we think is safe. Has not the Lord promised to protect us?” Ammon looked deep into his brother’s eyes across the low, warm fire that was burning.

“And how will the Lord protect us if we don’t use the wisdom he has blessed us with?” There was some murmured agreement around the fire, and then some low moaning from the bedroll where Manri lay. Himni quickly checked him, but he was unconscious, incoherent. They all kept looking for a sign that he wanted to communicate with them, but there was nothing.

Ammon spoke again, “And there is the matter of Manri. . .”

“When he’s better we’ll all go together.” Aaron said forcefully.

Himni spoke quietly, “Oh, Aaron, he is not going to get better.” There was a long silence. Himni didn’t often speak in the group, being the youngest. When he did speak however, Ammon noted the way the others heeded his careful words. Of his three brothers, Himni was the one who most resembled him. Neither of them was as tall as Omner or Aaron, but Ammon and Himni were both broad through the shoulders. His hair and skin were just a shade paler than Ammon’s, and his features were fine, just as their mother’s had been. Ammon and Himni looked as if they had been poured from the same mold, save one thing: Himni’s eyes. While Ammon’s were clear and blue, Himni’s changed with his mood and clothing. Also, one was more brown and the other more green, yet there were times, when he was especially pensive, that they seemed almost blue, though slightly different shades. The color difference wasn’t dramatic, but if he looked at you very directly, you had a sense that something was out of place. Ammon was naturally used to this oddity, but he laughed inwardly at how badly it threw strangers off when Himni looked at them. Because of this, Himni didn’t often look at people directly. He had a habit of looking at them sideways from under his too-long hair, as if he were shy.

Himni’s comment about Manri’s sickness finally voiced what everyone had known deep down, and even Aaron didn’t dare dispute the truth of it, “Then we will bury him together, as his brethren, and move on.”

Ammon was unwilling to let it drop so easily. “I could stay with him, some or all of you could go on. If it is the Lord’s will that I should have a companion then he will survive, otherwise I will proceed alone to the Land of Ishmael.”

Once the words had been said and were out in the open, there was no taking them back, but the stir they caused was evident. “You’ve been thinking about this for some time, brother.” Aaron’s words were not a question.

“I have.”

There was silence for several minutes around the campfire except for the occasional low mown from Manri. Aaron finally replied, “I think it is not wise.”

Ammon shifted slightly and opened his mouth to reply when Himni spoke again, his eyes slightly averted from the circle, “Brethren, I believe we need to fast to gain wisdom. We came on the Lord’s errand; we are entitled to His help. My brothers both make good points, but the Lord would not have us argue,” he looked at Ammon as he said this last statement and then shifted his gaze to Aaron as he finished, “nor would he have us set ourselves up over one another.”

Omner answered, “It is a good idea. I will join in your fast.”

Ammon, Aaron and the others all murmured assent. The next day was spent in fasting and prayer. Ammon pled with the Lord to soften his heart so that he might know the right thing. It was difficult for him to humble himself because the thing he wanted to do had been in his head for many, many days.

Ammon had gone into the woods, alone. As he found himself deep in meditation and prayer, the words came softly and slowly to his heart, “There is one who prays for you in the land of Ishmael.”

He looked up and around quickly. The words had been so plain that he believed himself not to be alone. As he knelt again, the words repeated with an added directive, “There is one who prays for you in the land of Ishmael; you must go alone.” The command startled Ammon. He finished his prayer and ran back through the woods toward camp. When he arrived, Omner met him, “Manri is dead.” Ammon’s eyes filled with tears at his brother’s words. Omner showed little sign of grieving, but Ammon knew that it was his way. He would not spend his grief on tears—his sorrow would spur him to action. No doubt he would be the first to volunteer to dig the hole for his body, or whatever other task could be done. Omner ran his hands through his thick, black hair, Ammon could see that he was impatient for a task that would keep his mind and body occupied.

The nine remaining missionaries took turns in the waning afternoon heat, digging out a shallow grave with sticks and gourds. Prayers were said, commending his valiant soul to the heavens. The men were silent around the campfire that night, the sting of death heavy on them. It was time for them to have a discussion of how to proceed and to share their knowledge gained during the day’s fast, but there was reluctance to do so. Aaron was noticeably absent from the group, sitting far away, his back to the fire. Ammon joined him. “Manri’s death is a great loss.” He began.

Aaron was more agitated than Ammon had seen him in a long time. He dug angrily with his stick in the dirt before him. “We were promised protection.”

Ammon was quiet, unsure what to say, but still feeling something like anger well up inside him. He strove to bite back the words at the surface, thinking that it would be better if Himni or Omner were the one to speak to Aaron right now. But Aaron wouldn’t take his silence, “Weren’t we promised?”

Ammon took a big breath to keep his tone calm, “No, we weren’t.”

“Yes we were! You were there the day father told us that he would give us leave to go.”

“I was. But you are forgetting the promise.”

“Oh?” Aaron’s tone was testy.

“Our father was promised that his sons would be delivered from the Lamanites. Manri was given no promises. Nor do we know what deliverance means. Suffering death at the hands of the Lamanites to go and dwell with God forever is a type of deliverance.”

“This mission is not what I had in mind.”

“Nor I. I feel like we have wasted two years because we’ve been afraid.”

“Is that what you want? For me to admit it? All right! I will say it! I am afraid. Terrified. Today we fasted and I felt nothing, no impressions, just this overwhelming fear that we are traveling deeper and deeper into enemy lands. When we buried Manri today I thought I saw the face of each of my brothers lying in that grave.”

“Shhh. . . Do you want the others to hear?”

“I don’t care if they do. I’m discouraged and ready to turn back.”

Ammon forcefully grabbed his brother by the shoulders. He hissed the words in anger, “Don’t you dare say it. These men, our brothers, have looked to you in every way. They know the promise of eternal life given to us by the Lord through our father. They know there is success waiting for them. That is the real promise we have been given. They can speak the language of this land better than the Lamanites themselves and they want a leader who will take them, with courage, into the enemy’s heart and soften it.”

His brother hung his head, “Then you will have to be their leader, Ammon.”

“No. I cannot.”

“You are the eldest. They can look to you as easily as me.”

“No, Aaron. I have been given another commandment.”

“The Lord has spoken to you?”

“I am to go to the land of Ishmael, alone.”

“Alone?”

“Someone there prays for me to come.”

“What will we do without you?” Aaron looked truly stricken. Ammon had never seen him at such a loss for confidence.

He held Aaron’s arms tightly and looked deep in his eyes. “You will depend on the Lord. You will remember the second chance given to you on the road Zeraph. You will open your mouth and spread that good news. Nothing these Lamanites can do to you is worse than the memory of Hell’s gaping abyss. You will show by your every action that you want the eternal life that has been promised to the faithful. You will be an example to our brothers, the way you always have been.”

Aaron’s eyes broke from Ammon’s intensity and he began to cry as he dropped his head. Never in all their lives together had he seen Aaron show such emotion. Even on the day of his wife’s death, it was nothing like this. He put his arm around his brother and whispered, “The Lord will help your unbelief. You must learn to rely on Him.”

Aaron’s hot, noisy tears quieted slowly as he embraced Ammon. “Thank you, brother. We will go our separate ways tomorrow. Will you give us each a blessing before we go?”

“Of course.”

A counsel was held that night, but when the remaining seven saw Ammon and Aaron’s unity, they were in full agreement. The brethren trickled off to bed, their hearts heavy with anticipation. Ammon stayed awake a long time, staring into the flames, pondering the events of the past two years. He knew he should sleep, tomorrow would be a long, wary day, but he was too full of emotion for rest.

His youngest brother found him this way many hours later when he awoke. He moved to sit by the dying embers of the fire next to Ammon. “It is late, brother.”

“You should be in bed, Himni.” Ammon said with a grin.

“That is what I meant. But I wouldn’t presume to tell my older brother what to do.” Himni grinned too, just to show that he was teasing.

Little was said, but Himni kept watch with his brother through the rest of the night. Ammon knew that it is this sibling he would miss the most. For all his inexperience and youthfulness, Ammon had long believed that Himni represented what was best in all four of them. Their mother had died just days after Himni’s birth and the three brothers had been intensely protective of him ever since they saw how tiny and helpless he was. The prayer in his heart that night was that Aaron would take care of this youngest brother in the way Ammon always had. He did not put these thoughts into words, but somehow he knew that Himni understood.