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Chapter 30: The Real Story of the Gospel

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How is it moved?”

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

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

“Yes, Abish. Your story.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

She nodded slowly, “I think so.”

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

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

“Exactly!”

“Where should I start?”

“Begin with your father’s vision.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“When Armac was born.”

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

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

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

“What was it like?”

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

“Peace.”

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

“I can understand that.”

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t get what?”

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

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

“They must be taught.”

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Only about a hundred times.”

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

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

“Of course.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter 28—To the Very Limits of Your Strength

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

“I thought you would be asleep.”

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

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

He made a face, “That’s it?”

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

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

“It is true.”

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

“And not to Jershon?”

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

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

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

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


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

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

“I appreciate it more than I can say.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

She was also very far from home.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She smiled wanly, “I’m afraid so.”

“Will we make it back?”

“I don’t know—I’m new at this.”

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

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

“Close.”

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I won’t; I promise.”

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

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

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

“Shh . . . everything is fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

After her insides came all of her fluids.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Himni.” She whispered through thick lips.

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

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

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

“A beautiful baby boy.”

“Healthy?”

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

“I would like to see him.”

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

Chapter 27--Swallowed Up In The Joy of God

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.”