Chapter 27--Swallowed Up In The Joy of God

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

“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

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

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

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.