Abish just stared. She had never before touched the king and didn’t move to do so now even though she’d had more healers’ training than any other in the room. She was grateful when Ammon moved so she didn’t feel compelled to. He touched the king’s head and listened to his chest and pronounced, “Lamoni is fine, probably just the shock from all he has learned. He should be taken to his chamber where he can rest comfortably.”
Lemhah issued some orders and in a daze the men carefully hoisted him and carried him into the hallway. Abish followed at a careful distance, with Ammon. She looked at him sideways and whispered, “Have you ever seen such a thing?”
Ammon smiled, “Only once. It was God’s way of redeeming a soul that was headed for almost certain damnation. He will recover.” Almost unwillingly, she trusted the confidence in his voice, wondering if she had sounded the same to Sasha earlier that morning.
“How soon?”
“It is not for me to say.” Abish felt mildly distressed, knowing that somehow she would have to explain all of these happenings to the queen. He caught her expression and said, “You have faith, don’t you?”
“I have faith; but I must relate these events to someone who does not—at least, not yet.”
“The queen?”
Abish nodded. “Queen Zaria is already overwrought emotionally. She has a very new baby, and the birth was difficult.” Abish flushed to be discussing such things with a man. “This will be hard for her to understand.”
Ammon nodded. “Perhaps it is best if I stay away until she wishes to see me.”
“Yes. Knowing that you are involved in these events may increase her distress.”
“Then I will wait.”
“And I will try to help her see.” She smiled slowly, “But I’ll leave the preaching to you. You are very good at it.”
“When the word of God is preached by the Spirit, both those who hear it and those who receive it are edified together. There is no better feeling of comradeship in the world than sharing the gospel.”
Almost without thinking she said quietly, “Then I expect that we will be very good friends.” They parted ways and she hurried her steps to be with the group that entered the queen’s room.
As predicted, the queen did not take the news of her husband’s episode very well. Abish tried to explain, but without Ammon’s preaching the story really didn’t make much sense. Perhaps it had been a mistake to caution him against coming because now the queen was adamant about not sending for him. Despite the testimonies of her servants, Abish thought she seemed fearful of the Nephite, though she was impressed by the presence of mind the queen kept for being a new mother. She maintained her authority very well and ordered Lemhah to not let word of any events leak out. The slaves were ordered to secrecy, though Abish knew how poorly such an admonition was kept among the servants themselves and was sure everyone in the palace would be discussing what had happened in about twenty minutes.
She allowed Abish to examine the king to determine the cause of his unconsciousness. Abish attempted, but she knew it was mostly for show. She trusted Ammon’s promise completely, and tried to reassure the queen. “He is fine; there is no injury or anything to indicate any trauma or damage. He will come out of this in a few days. His heartbeat is faint but steady. He will arise when it is time for him to.”
The queen regarded Abish closely, “I don’t mean to insult you, dear, you are a marvelous midwife, but he is hardly pregnant. I’m calling a healer.”
Abish tried to protest, but it wasn’t her habit to do so, so she decided to wait it out. As feared, the healer’s opinion was much starker. He told the queen that Lamoni had slipped into a coma it was unlikely he’d ever recover from. He suggested the king had been hit or even poisoned. Hearing this libel, Abish found the courage to protest. She argued that she had been there.
The healer glowered at her and answered, “I am not accustomed to being second guessed by slave-girls. I order you to hold your tongue.”
The queen looked exasperated, but whether she was more frustrated by Abish or the healer was hard to say. Not wanting to embarrass the queen or be slapped by the healer—a thing totally within his rights—she closed her mouth, praying with all her heart that he would leave very soon.
Before he left, he added, “I’ve seen this kind of thing before—the coma getting deeper and deeper. You won’t even know when the moment of death arrives until he starts to stink. I will watch him closely through the rest of the week and I would do all you can to find who has caused this to happen to him. This couldn’t have just been spontaneous.”
The queen sank into a nearby chair when he left. Abish quickly found a stool for her and helped her prop her feet. “This is too much decision making for a woman who just had a baby. I am so tired.”
“I’m sure.”
“Let me hear your version of events one more time without a chamber full of dirty shepherds or that nasty little healer.”
“Just relax for a little bit first.” Abish rubbed her feet gently.
“Where is Sariah?” The queen asked after a moment.
“Resting. She’s been with Sasha this afternoon. If you aren’t sleeping when she wakes up then I will have Sasha bring her to you.”
"I like her.”
“The baby or Sasha?”
The queen smiled lightly and leaned back in her chair, “Mmmm. . . Both I think. Well, I know I like the baby; I haven’t fully decided about Sasha yet, but she does come with your recommendation so she is probably wonderful.”
“Ammon comes with my recommendation too.”
"Yes; but perhaps you are just besotted by his blue eyes and fair skin.” In spite of herself, the queen’s grin was mischievous and girlish at the same time.
Abish smiled, trying not to blush and failing miserably, as she massaged. “He is handsome. I will admit that.”
The queen sighed and leaned back. “You know, I never found Nephite men all that handsome. I was actually grateful when I learned my father had promised me to a Lamanite. The alternative seemed too terrible. If you want handsome, a lady need look no further than Lamoni.” Her voice caught slightly as she said his name.
“He will be fine. You will be side by side with him in no time.”
“How can you be so sure?” The queen’s eyes were swimming with tears.
“With mine own ears I heard your husband tell Ammon that he would believe anything he said. I feel the same way. If Ammon tells me that your husband is just working through his salvation, then I know it is the truth.”
The queen nodded slowly, but Abish could see she didn’t understand. Abish continued, “Let tomorrow be a nice quiet day—just you and your baby and your resting husband. If he isn’t awake by tomorrow evening then perhaps you will want to send for Ammon and speak to him yourself.” The queen nodded again.
“It is a good idea. In the meantime, don’t slack off on that foot rub.”
But the next day was not a quiet day. Before Abish could arise and order the doors sealed to outside visitors, the healer returned with Lamoni’s three children close on his heels. Selah, a special favorite to Lamoni, was nearly beside herself with hysterics. They were already dressed in mourning clothes and the procession sent the baby into high-pitched catlike wails for having her morning feeding interrupted. Frustrated, the queen handed the baby to Sasha and began trying to sort through the mess.
The older boys were arguing over whether or not Lamoni had started to stink. The queen broke into their conversation loudly. “He doesn’t smell! His own servants bathed him just last evening and he is not dead.”
"But he’s going to die!” Selah wailed.
The queen looked like she would slap her, but refrained, “Pull yourself together, Selah! Nobody knows anything yet. He is just fine. Until we know more I would appreciate it if you would just pretend that he was sleeping.” Selah sniffed back her tears, knowing from the queen’s tone that it was unwise to be disobedient.
Unwilling to let it drop, the younger of Lamoni’s boys accused, “You wouldn’t tell us if he was dead! Then you could be queen all by yourself and the Amalekites would come and move into our palace.”
Abish couldn’t help but try and interpret the queen’s expression to that comment—it was a mixture of amusement, impatience and exasperation. “Clearly, Helamoni, you don’t know how it works. If your father did die, then your brother, Lemuel, would be the king. I would be nobody. And there are too many Amalekites for this house anyway. Now, it is very evident that neither of you are ready to be king yet, so your father wouldn’t die and leave his kingdom in such disarray, would he?” The brothers looked at each other and finally they both shook their heads.
“Now, please, just go. Your father needs it to be quiet so that he can recover.”
Abish added, “And your stepmother has just had a baby; she also needs it quiet so she can recover.”
The children were not gone more than a minute when the healer started in. This time the queen waved him off. “I will call for you again when you are needed. In the meantime, please do not hang around the palace scaring people with your speculation. I think we will wait this one out a little bit.”
He left, offended by both her tone and her words. But he wasn’t gone ten minutes when others began arriving—courtiers Abish often saw standing around hoping to advance their positions. The priests paraded through next. The noise alone was exhausting with the constant undercurrent of conversation about whether or not the king stank, and if his condition had anything to do with the Nephite in the palace. So, while it was apparent the servants had indeed gossiped, the healer had been no less reserved with his opinion.
“Enough!” The queen finally said aloud just after midday. The latest group of people in the door was headed by an undertaker who’d brought a funeral shroud and a group of six wailing mourners. When she asked him what he was doing he said that he’d been ordered, by someone in the palace, to bring burial clothes because the king was dead and they wanted to lay him in his family’s sepulcher that very day. Without even a reply, she ordered everyone out. The ensuing silence was wonderful. She sank, exhausted into a nearby chair. She was exceptionally pale and Abish quickly ordered a lunch for her. The queen drank a large cup of water. “I’m not feeling all that well.”
“Lunch will help.”
“Getting all this resolved would help more.” She waved her hand toward where Lamoni lay, so peaceful and oblivious to the chaos that had surrounded him that day. “He doesn’t stink, does he?” The queen had begun to even doubt herself.
“No.” Abish reassured her.
“I think maybe it is time I see this Nephite of yours.”
“Lunch first.” The queen agreed. Abish noted that she looked a little bit better after lunch, but she was still very pale. Seeing that the queen had eaten well, Abish stood to go get Ammon. “No, send somebody. I don’t want to be alone. And if anybody else comes, send them away.” Abish stood to follow her directive. “Wait. Send for the shepherds also, but ask them to wait in the hall.”
Ammon arrived within minutes. He was out of breath as if he had sprinted the distance. As he had been with Lamoni, he was supremely cordial with the queen in his manner of address and speaking, but even with the formality, his voice carried warmth and familiarity.
He bowed low, “What would you have me do, My Lady?”
Her words were likewise filled with formality, “Our servants have made it known to me that thou are a prophet of a holy God and that thou hast power to do many mighty works in his name. If you do, go in and see my husband. Thou knows that he has laid for two nights and days.” Her voice quavered slightly and her eyes filled with tears. Unable to stand any longer she sank against Abish’s arm and lowered herself into a chair, “Some are saying that he is dead, and that he stinks and others want to place him in the sepulcher! But he isn’t dead. And he doesn’t stink.”
Ammon smiled winningly at the queen and Abish noted that some of the color returned to her face as he did so. “Of course he isn’t dead, your Majesty. The veil of unbelief is being cast from his eyes so that he can behold the light and glory of God. When he arises his soul will be infused with a joy that surpasses understanding. He will be a new creature, born again by the power of the Lord.”
Abish’s heart burned and she prayed that the queen felt it too. Ammon walked to Lamoni’s bedside and knelt over him in prayer. His words were beautiful and alive. Abish had never heard such a prayer. As his voice faded, Abish heard the barest sniffle from the queen. He stood slowly and came to the queen. He bowed low in front of her again and took her hand. “He is not dead, but he sleepeth in God. On the morrow he shall rise. Bury him not.” He added his last, simple sentence with a gentle smile, knowing the queen had already vehemently decided against that. “Believest thou this?”
She smiled back at him, tears coursing freely down her cheeks. “I have no witness, save thy word, and the word of our servants.” She quietly took Abish’s hand as she said this, but kept her eyes directly on Ammon’s. “Nevertheless, I believe that it shall be according as thou hast said.”
“Blessed art though, because of your exceeding faith. I say unto thee, woman, there has not been such great faith among all the people of the Nephites.” He leaned forward and kissed her hand as he said these words. Abish truly believed that she would burst wide open from happiness in that moment.
The queen asked the shepherds to come in again to tell their story; she assured them that she believed them and asked that they return the next morning, that they might see Lamoni awaken. And then, she asked Ammon if he would teach her the things he had taught Lamoni. Abish heard much of Ammon’s sermon again, trying to commit portions to memory, wondering if she would ever grow tired of hearing him speak.
As supper neared, Abish asked that meals be brought to them. The queen stifled a yawn as they ate. Ammon took note, “Your majesty is tired.”
“You have no idea.”
“So where is this beautiful baby I have heard about?”
The queen smiled. “You are a flatterer, Ammon. But somehow I believe that you mean every word of it.”
Abish retrieved Sasha and the baby. Introductions were made, Ammon was especially differential when he learned that Sasha was Ham’s wife and was thrilled to meet their little son. Food was plentiful and Sasha was invited to join them. The queen startled them all with a sudden comment, “You know what? I am unbelievably happy. I am exhausted and actually feeling a little bit sick, but I’ve never felt so happy. Here I am, a Lamanite queen eating dinner with a Nephite, my midwife and a slave, and it doesn’t even matter. For the first time I feel an overwhelming love toward everyone around me. I would never have guessed that this feeling is the secret to true joy.”
Ammon nearly laughed with happiness at her simple statement and the song in Abish’s heart reflected Zaria’s feelings exactly. Ammon moved to leave after dinner, “You need your rest, Queen. There will be many days for sharing and teaching the gospel. I would not forgive myself readily if you became sick from the strain of these past days.”
“I will rest; I don’t think I could stay awake even if I wanted to. But will you stay and keep vigil with us this night? Abish has not been sleeping much herself for checking on me and Sasha and the babies. I am sure she would love your company.”
Abish felt the blood creep into her face, hoping her skin was dark enough to hide the heat she felt rush to her cheeks. Ammon bowed low, “As your Majesty wishes.”
Monday, February 2, 2009
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Chapter 12: Three Days
The queen’s pains began before Abish even fell back asleep. She quickly rubbed the sleep from her eyes and was at the queen’s side when she heard her cry out. It was still hours before dawn and Abish ordered the candles lit throughout the chamber. Her contractions were not close, but they were surprisingly sharp. The fear was apparent all over the queen’s lovely face and Abish worked to reassure her. Just after dawn, she sent word to Lamoni that today would be the day.
In less than an hour Lamoni himself was at his wife’s bedside. He was unable to stay long, but his appearance energized the queen. He comforted and reassured her, quite tenderly, Abish thought. Abish stayed back while he was there, although she sensed from his looks her direction that part of their discussion revolved around her. She bowed low as he walked toward the door, but instead of walking past her he stopped. “You, girl.” She glanced up, startled to be addressed by him, as she never had been before. His eyes were dark and unfathomable and for a moment he looked terrible to her. She looked down.
“Yes, Sire.”
“You are young to handle the life of my wife and child. I have my doubts, but she has expressed complete faith in your abilities and will have no other. Look at me.”
She raised her eyes to meet his, hoping she appeared competent and confident. He peered at her closely and continued in a low voice, “You will purchase your freedom this day if all goes well.” His gift was wholly unexpected and the look on her face must have shown her further surprise. “But by the gods, if any harm comes to this woman you will regret having ever laid eyes on me.” He swept from the room in a flurry of feathered robes. She nearly sank in fear to the deep rug underfoot, but the queen moaned and Abish quickly shook off the threat and focused on the job she had to do.
By late afternoon, Abish was exhausted. More than once she had to stifle a yawn and splash cool water in her face. She held the queen’s hand, massaged her back, rubbed her temples, spoke soothing words and held her eyes locked while she breathed. No matter how many times she was part of this miracle, she was always amazed by the strength of mothers. The queen’s progress was steady, but slow, and despite her exhaustion, Abish knew it would still be many hours before the baby was born.
As sunset approached, the queen fell against her bed, wholly drained. Abish had observed that the body changes during birth caused a woman to feel intensely sleepy between pains. Abish held the queen under her arms, stroking her damp hair softly. The pain was coming every minute now and her respite would not be long. In spite of herself, the prayer she’d carried in her heart all day spilled out of her mouth. “Dear God, she murmured against the queen’s cheek, this is a noble daughter. Please do not let her hard work this day be in vain. Please bless her with the righteous desire of her heart. If nothing else, bless her for the kindness she has often shown a slave girl.”
The queen stirred beneath her and Abish helped push her up to her knees to get on top of her next pain. While the lady never said anything about the words Abish had spoken, she seemed to do better after the prayer. She seemed more determined, more able. Instead of fighting the pain so desperately, she began working with it. Less than twenty minutes later her water broke and the progress started in earnest.
While Abish’s assistant held the queen’s arms Abish sat below the chair that had the bottom cut out of it. She was pushing well, but something was wrong. Abish knew the baby should be out by now. It had crowned, but wouldn’t drop. She was desperate for knowledge she didn’t have. Then, the Spirit whispered the peace to her heart she had longed to hear the entire day. Her fear left and she knew that she had delivered babies like this before. She pretended for a moment the stakes were no different and forced the queen to look at her. She gave instructions and used her expertise to find where the cord was wrapped around the baby’s neck. With a slip of her finger the obstruction was gone and then instructed the queen to push. Once. . . twice. . . .
And the baby girl was out into Abish’s hands, but all was not well. She was nearly blue in color and didn’t cry out the way babies usually did. Abish cut the cord and whisked her immediately away to the window where the last of the day’s sunlight was shining through, just feet from the blazing fire. It was the warmest spot in the room and the newborn’s blankets had been set up there. The queen was crying out, and Abish continued to shout encouragement while massaging the tiny purple limbs. Movement was scarce and no breath had been taken yet. Abish squeezed the girl’s cheeks to clear out the phlegmy obstruction in her mouth. On impulse, she began breathing into the little girl’s mouth, watching between each breath for her little chest to begin rising and falling on its own. She had never tried such a thing before and had nearly given up all hope when she saw a slight movement, then there was a cough and sputter and a terrifically loud cry. Her color instantly went from a sickly purple to a healthy pink in moments and Abish began laughing and crying all at once, wrapping and handing her to her mother immediately. She quieted quickly when the queen swaddled her close. The queen both wept as Abish cleaned up the afterbirth and the baby suckled.
After the baby was cleaned and fed, Lamoni was sent for and Abish stayed carefully away from the family scene. She felt a deep contentment and peace she only felt in the hours immediately after birth, especially a difficult birth. The perfect spirit of a tiny baby was so sublime it touched anything in contact with it for many weeks.
She studied Lamoni’s face from the side. Usually taciturn and reserved, he was animated and even smiling. This must be a side of him that the queen knew; the man that she had come to love despite having had no choice but to marry him. Again, before leaving he addressed Abish. This time she was better able to meet his eyes and didn’t feel as though she cowered quite so obviously before him. He called her by name, “Abish, you have done a good thing here today. My lady was right to put her trust in you. I will uphold my promise to free you, but it must be on the queen’s terms, as she sees fit. You do, after all, belong to her and not me.”
Abish fought the urge to reply that she belonged to nobody and instead bowed low as he left the chamber. She went back and sat by the queen, the exhausted baby sleeping peacefully beside her. “You should get some sleep, Your Majesty.”
“I’m too full of emotion to sleep. You look tired as well.”
“It was a long day.” And a long night, Abish nearly added.
The queen abruptly changed subject, “Has your slavery here been so awful?”
As always at such times, Abish chose her words with care, “You have always been most kind to me, my Lady. Sometimes I think you have almost been a friend. Even before I was an especial servant to you or even a midwife, Lamoni’s treatment was fair and just.”
“But you wish to leave us.”
“I have never expressed this wish.”
“Yet Lamoni promised you your freedom if this baby came to us whole, and if I survived my experience.”
“He did.”
“And you did not contradict his offer.”
“I am a slave, Madam. I am not in the habit of contradicting a king.”
She sighed deeply. “And regardless of how well you have been treated, you are still not free to make your own choices.”
“No, I am not.”
She held her free arm out and tipped Abish’s head slightly and looked at the notch in her ear. Abish was quiet, marveling that for the second time in less than a day somebody was really seeing her. “If I set you free, where will you go?”
“I have no where to go. This is the only life I have known for many years.”
“You must have come from somewhere.” It was the first time in the months she had slept in the next room that the queen ever ventured to learn more of her.
“It is not a place I can ever go back to.”
The queen nodded, understanding. She seemed to change the subject as she said, “During this long and difficult day, there was a moment you prayed over me. It somehow gave me great strength. I have never prayed, nor was I taught to pray, but when I was a young girl I had a grandmother whom often prayed. Your prayer to a personal, singular God reminds me of the prayers I would catch her uttering aloud at times. So, I say again, Abish, you must have come from somewhere.”
Abish wavered for a moment, the queen had not exactly asked a question, but the implication was obvious and she could no longer hide her past. “My father loved me deeply. He was an apprentice to the priests in the land of Middoni. Then he had a vision.”
“And what was this vision?”
“The only God who lives in the Heavens visited my father to tell him that the life he was following was an abomination. God exhorted him to actually read the scriptures hidden from the Lamanites. He was to call the Lamanites to repentance.”
“And how did the Middonites take this call?” She prodded gently.
Abish lowered her eyes, again feeling unfamiliar tears welling up, wondering how much longer she could hold them back. “He was killed. Sacrificed to false Gods on the temple altar.”
The queen shuddered. Lamoni was not always exactly a gentle man and his anger was sharp and sudden when it came, but she was grateful that human sacrifices were never performed in this part of the Land of Nephi. She wasn’t sure she could have ever gotten used to such cruelty regardless of political expedience. “Were you there?”
“My mother knew it was coming and she fled the city. I ran away before she could take me with her, and I stayed behind so that I would know his fate. After his death, my only choice seemed to be to try and locate her.”
“But you didn’t make it.” The answer was obvious and Abish shook her head slightly. “How can you be so committed and cheerful in your service to this household?”
Abish was again surprised by the many directions this conversation took. “My father taught me of his beliefs before he died. He knew I was committed to them. He admonished me to live for my beliefs. I have never forgotten his charge. I chose to stay behind with my father, and I knew there would be consequences for that. So instead of regretting having loved him more than I’ve ever loved anyone else, I try to be the person the God of Heaven knows I am.”
“And who is that?” The queen was clearly fascinated and Abish’s heart warmed within her.
“I am his child, as are you. As is this new life who has come to you and Lamoni this day. God loves us and wants what is best for us. I may not have exactly chosen to become a slave, but I learned quickly that my attitude would make all the difference in how I was treated, and particularly in my perception of how I was treated.”
“Your words bring me comfort and peace at the end of a long and difficult day.”
“Thank you for your understanding, but now it is time for you to get some rest.” Abish stood, fighting to keep her standing, her aloofness.
“I know. I just have one more question.”
“Yes?”
“Will you always be alone in your belief, or will there be a time that others believe too?”
Abish paused only a moment before whispering, “What does your heart tell you?”
The queen also hesitated before replying, “That a message of love and peace and kindness is just what this land needs.”
“There will be others. And I think the time is near.” The queen looked at her very directly as Abish curtseyed and turned once more to leave the room.
“Abish.” She turned back one last time. “The notch in your ear says you are a slave for life. Perhaps it is time you grow your hair out. I know you have no where to go, but you are free to if you would like. And if not, I would ask that you would stay here in the palace. We need a good midwife and I am sure that you could be paid for your services.”
Impulsively, Abish planted a kiss on the queen’s fair cheek. She repeated the spirit of Ammon’s words from the previous day, “It is my desire to be your servant, perhaps for all the days of my life. There has never been another who has shown such kindness; there has never been another I could tell my heart to. I will not leave you, or this household, as long as I am needed.”
“And I will release you from your oath when it is time.” The queen returned her simple kiss and the bond between them was sealed.
Abish woke up several times that night to check on baby and mother, but like most newborns, the baby was sleepy. Abish let them rest, knowing that tomorrow they would begin a regimen of making sure the little princess ate regularly to gain weight and thrive. She would send word to the servant quarters tomorrow that the queen was in need of a nurse; perhaps Sasha could be spared. It would allow her to spend hours each day interacting with her own son instead of strapping him onto her back. Finally, just a few hours before dawn she fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.
While she wasn’t exactly refreshed the next morning, she still felt ready to face her day. She made sure the queen was comfortable and then made her way to the slave’s quarters, grateful to not be worrying about subterfuge. By the time she arrived, most of the room was emptied of women who were already about their duties. The palace was buzzing with news of the new baby; word of the nature of her birth had also escaped and Abish could see the near-awe that she was looked upon by the other women.
She finally located Sasha scrubbing floors in the dining room. Abish strode confidently to her side and then saw something that left her in great dismay. Sasha was crying. It was quiet, but profound. Her tears dripped down her face as she worked steadily. Abish was alarmed, “Sasha, whatever can be the matter?”
“It is Ham. . .” She sniffed loudly before she could finish.
“Is he all right?”
“He won’t be.”
“What has happened?”
“Today when they went out on shepherding duty, they called Ham. This is the Nephite’s second day and they actually allowed him to choose whom he wanted to come with him—like he is in charge or something! He picked the strongest and most obedient slaves to go with him. How could he have known that? And why would they let him punish all these good men?”
Abish was surprised at these tidings herself, but saw the situation in a very different light.
“Everything will be fine.”
“How?”
“I believe this man can protect his brethren as well as the sheep.”
Sasha’s tone went from sorrow to a kind of mocking bitterness in almost an instant, “Oh, that is right, I nearly forgot. He is your Nephite. How could any harm come to him or any around him if Abish says that he is the strongest and best. Abish, the one who can do anything can now predict the future too! He probably only chose Ham because of you—you are the one that convinced him to wake him up that night.” Abish was unsure what to say next. Sasha’s voice had risen slightly and she was nearly hostile.
“I am deeply sorry, friend.”
Her calming words seemed to take some of the steam out of Sasha’s tirade and in its place was just sorrow. “I am sorry too; I know this isn’t your fault, nor is it something you would have chosen for us.” “Maybe we will just have to trust God.” It was a thing she would normally never say aloud, but her conversation with the queen the night before made her bold.
Sasha scoffed, “I think the gods care very little for the likes of Ham and me.”
“And why not? You are good, hard-working honest people who are trying your very best to make a happy life. Why should you not be helped in such endeavors?”
Sasha looked at her for a moment, her tears finally subsiding. And, for the first time since finding her that morning, there was the slightest hint of hope in her dark eyes. “I don’t know why, but I find it surprisingly easy to believe you sometimes.”
Abish smiled, “Good. Because I have some news that you will really want to hear.”
Sasha readily agreed to be the princess’s nurse, if the queen would have her. As she agreed, tears came to her eyes for a second time. This time for joy. Such a position would mean much more time to spend with her child, and Sasha wasn’t ignorant of the other benefits of having the most powerful woman in the city as your ally.
The rest of the day was busy as the queen’s quarter adjusted itself to its new arrival. There were also many visitors—more than Abish would have preferred, but the baby was, after all, a Lamanite princess. Members from the court filed through, leaving many gifts, some of which were actually useful. The queen’s three stepchildren also lined up and dutifully kissed their little half sister. The older children had a good relationship with the young queen, but Abish could see the uncertainty on their faces. Now that she had a child of her own, would it be the same with them? But the queen had a kind and tender heart and would certainly not let her love be divided. Lamoni was in and out throughout the day, proud and attentive as a good father should be.
The next day Abish’s duties slowed considerably. The queen was doing well and so was her daughter. They decided to name her Sariah. Abish had raised her eyebrows slightly at the suggestion; she remembered seeing this name in the scriptures her father had once given her to handle. Sariah had been the name of the queen’s grandmother. And while Zaria herself had a Lamanite name, she suddenly seemed interested that this baby understand a measure of her Nephite heritage as well. She certainly didn’t look like a Nephite with her mass of dark hair, but only time would tell what color her eyes and her skin would actually be.
She knew that in the coming weeks, her position as the queen’s midwife would wane. There were other women in the palace and in the surrounding city who would need her services, but she was uncertain as to her role now. Would she continue living here? Was she really free to go as she had wished? Perhaps she had been too hasty to pledge her life to the queen in a moment of deep emotion. She tugged at her short hair. Maybe she would have to let her hair grow before she made any decisions at all.
Sasha was enthusiastic in her new duties. After less than a day she said to Abish, “I’m doing great. I’ve never eaten so well in my life and I have loved taking care of the babies all day. There is just one thing. . .”
“You would like to know how Ham is, or to let him know where you are.”
She nodded. “Yes, that is exactly it.”
“I will find out what I can.”
Abish wasn’t exactly sure how she would find out the information she sought. She wandered toward the King’s court not knowing what she would do next, but grateful to have some task to occupy her time. She was curious about Ham herself; besides, learning about him would help her to learn the fate of Ammon as well. She wandered into the back of Lamoni’s receiving hall, half expecting it to be empty so late in the day, but instead the room was crowded with people, straining to see past one another. Surprised, Abish squeezed through the group to a vantage point to the side of the room. As soon as she saw what the commotion was about, she nearly gagged.
Five men, one of whom was Ham, stood in the center of the large room speaking to the King. On the floor in front of them, in a very large basket, were arms. Actual, severed, human arms. They were speaking rapidly, and sometimes over one another, answering the King’s questions as quickly as he could ask them. Abish was thoroughly confused; it was easy to see that she had missed most of the story. She concentrated carefully, trying to piece together what had happened. Ammon was no where to be seen.
After listening for several minutes, as near as she could tell, it seemed that the men and the sheep had been attacked by a large group of men. Ammon had killed several of them with his sling and cut off the arms of any person who raised a sword against him. Abish believed their outlandish tale; the hacked arms were evidence of that.
They finished their retelling of the events and Lamoni sat in stunned silence for what seemed like several minutes. People in the room began to shift their weight uncomfortably and the closeness of the warm bodies caused Abish to begin sweating. Lamoni finally said, almost to himself, but still using his most king-like and courtly language, “Surely this is more than a man. Behold, is not this the Great Spirit who doth send such great punishments upon this people because of their murders?”
The servants looked startled at Lamoni’s words, uncertain how to respond. After several seconds, Ham cleared his throat and spoke up, “Whether he is the Great Spirit or a man, we don’t know,” he paused for a moment to glance at his companions and continued, “but this much we do know—that he cannot be slain by the enemies of the king.” There was murmured agreement in the group.
Another man, standing next to him, chimed in, “Neither can they scatter the king’s flocks when he is with us, because of his expertness and great strength.”
Ham nodded, “Whatever else he is, we know that he is a friend to the king.”
The last member of their party finished the glowing report, “And now, O king, I do not believe that man has such great power for we have seen that he cannot be slain.”
Lamoni responded when there was a break, “It must be the Great Spirit. He has come down at this time to preserve your lives, that I might not have you killed as the others before you. This is the Being that our fathers have spoken of!” Abish’s heart sang within her. She had never before heard Lamoni purport to have any religious belief. If he could acknowledge there was indeed a God in heaven, regardless of how distorted his tradition was, then certainly Ammon could find a way to talk to him.
Again, there was a space of silence for several seconds; Abish saw some kind of emotion and expression working across Lamoni’s generally stern features. It seemed that Lamoni was deeply agitated, even fearful. Abish could believe it; Lamoni sincerely thought that in facing Ammon again he would be facing his Maker. She was impressed by his boldness when he finally spoke in a voice barely above a whisper, “Where is this man who has such great power?”
Ham bowed low, suddenly chagrined, “If it please your majesty, Ammon is feeding your horses in preparation for tomorrow’s journey to the land of Nephi. It was the other job Lemhah had given to us to do this night, but we thought you would be interested to learn of these events first.”
The king’s face betrayed open astonishment now. “And yet he did not come here to boast of these deeds to be raised up in the eyes of my court? Instead he continues to follow the commands of my steward? Surely there has not been any servant among all my servants that has been so faithful as this man, for he remembers to follow through on all my commands. I desire that he should come see me, but do I dare?”
In frustration, he dismissed the crowd in the chamber. She could see the sweat bead on his brow. The heat was getting to him also, it was indeed hard to think in the crowd of people. She’d positioned herself near the front of the room against the wall, so it would take some time for everyone to make their way out. Ham was leaving the room the same time she was and she caught his attention. The room was mostly quiet, so she whispered to him where his wife was. He opened his eyes in surprise and mouthed the word ‘thank you.’ This had indeed been an astonishing day for him all around.
She heard Lamoni shift his weight on the dais behind her, and then, surprisingly, she heard her name called. She turned abruptly to see that it was only she and the king left in the room. She bowed low to him. “Is all well with my wife?” He queried quietly.
“Yes, your majesty. I only came to tell your servant, Ham, that his wife is now nurse to Princess Sariah and her sleeping arrangements have been changed.”
“Ham? The short man who spoke here with these others?”
“Yes sire.”
“He is a good servant.” Abish said nothing, but again nodded, looking down. “As are you.”
“Thank you.”
“The queen told me yesterday that you know something of the Nephite religion, more even than the queen herself who was raised among a Nephite people.”
Abish looked up, stricken. She had been honest with the queen, because it was her habit to be so. She didn’t consider that the queen might betray her confidence, particularly to Lamoni. Images of her father’s death danced before her eyes and she was suddenly afraid, but concealment was not an option. “Yes.” She responded, the word barely creaking out.
“Have you seen this Ammon?”
“I was in court the day he arrived.” She kept further information to herself. Knowing of the midnight visit might weaken the awe he felt toward Ammon at this moment.
“And what think you of him?”
Abish could scarcely believe this remarkable turn of events. A king asking her opinion! Still, she was careful for while he was vulnerable in this moment, he was still a man of great power and temper. “I think you should send for him; I think he means Your Majesty no harm.”
Lamoni abruptly clapped and Lemhah appeared. Abish stayed planted in place, having not been dismissed. “Ask Ammon to come into me if he is willing to see me.”
Lemhah bowed, “I believe he is on his way even now, Sire.”
The king suddenly looked stricken. Abish waited in silence. Would he ask her to move? Leave? Was there any way that she might be witness to this extraordinary meeting? The king’s eyes were wide, again the fear and uncertainty played through his face and anxiety oozed from him. She faced him directly, but she didn’t think he even saw her. His eyes were trained on the door, staring.
She heard a noise behind her. The king stared, as if frozen. Abish whirled quickly. Ammon stood in the doorway. He was filthy from his days’ labor, but his eyes were bright and his chin was strong. Abish’s stomach flipped as it had the first time he looked at her. She had never seen such strength, intelligence and beauty embodied by one man. Ammon glanced at her, but then saw past her to the king. He regarded the heathen king silently for a moment and then moved as if he would leave again directly.
Abish, nearly breathless, dared to speak the words the king could not, “Rabbanah,” Ammon’s eyes darted to her face. He knew the word—it was the word for great, or powerful king. Such a word was never even referenced to Lamoni, but only to his father. It gave him pause and she continued in her most courtly language, “Rabbanah, the king desireth thee to stay.”
Ammon strode forward and stood in front of Abish, who carefully bowed and took four or five steps back. He looked at Lamoni with boldness and queried, “What wilt thou that I should do for thee, O King?”
There was a long pause while Lamoni attempted to gather his wits. Abish’s back began to ache from standing still for so long. It seemed like an hour. Ammon finally repeated his question, but still the king was unable to answer. The pause was interminable, but Ammon’s booming voice finally filled the silence, “You have heard of my deeds this day, and you marvel because of it. But I am no god; I am just a man, and your servant. You desired that I should defend your flocks. I have done no more or less than what thou commanded.” Ammon’s words were as courtly as Abish’s had been. Their exchange was so formal and yet somehow personal at the same time. Abish thought she would weep for joy at the mere sound of the language.
Lamoni answered in kind, “Who art thou, that you can discern my thoughts? You say you are a man, but you must be the Great Spirit.”
“I am not.”
“Then how can you know the thoughts of my heart? Speak boldly, and tell me of the things that give you such great power of spirit and body. If you will tell me these things, whatever you want I will give unto thee. I would guard you with all the armies under my command, but I know that you have no need of this; you are more powerful than all of them. But whatever you want. I will give it, freely.” He bowed his head, as if to a sovereign.
While Lamoni’s head was down, Ammon turned his face slightly to Abish. He gave her a half-smile, a knowing smile. Hadn’t she told him just three days previous that if he would defend these flocks faithfully then Lamoni would listen to any message? She had been right; his almost-amused smile told her that she had been right. It was his way of thanking her for her help. She perceived Ammon’s wisdom, but his harmlessness in a moment as he said to the king, “If I tell you of the power by which I do these things, will you promise to listen to all my words?”
He glanced up, sharply. “That is it? All I must do is listen?” Ammon nodded. “Very well, say on; I will believe all you say.”
Ammon moved from his bold stance for the first time. He sat next to King Lamoni, at his feet and looked into his face. Lamoni moved to sit next to him. Abish was amazed; she had never seen such a thing. Abish also moved to sit, wordlessly, silently where she had been standing so that she might not be asked to leave. And, as predicted, Ammon built on Lamoni’s belief about a great spirit. He helped Lamoni to understand that there was only one God of the Universe who had created all things, including heaven, a concept Lamoni had never heard. He told the king of a personal God who knew his very thoughts and intentions. Ammon taught by asking questions and allowing Lamoni to think and listen. Abish’s heart sang out with great joy at the knowledge being reawakened in her heart as she listened to Ammon teach with such patient sincerity and love.
Lamoni asked, in awe, “Art thou sent from God?”
Ammon repeated, “I am just a man, like you, Lamoni. But the greatest part of the message I have come to share is that man, from the very beginning, was created after the image of God. We are his children! He loves us and is concerned for our well-being. So he sends his Spirit to help us learn of Him. I have been called by that Holy Spirit to teach these things unto you and your people, that you might all be brought to the knowledge of what is just and true. A portion of that Spirit dwells in me, and gives me knowledge, as well as power, depending on my faith and my righteous desires. You feel it right now too, don’t you, Lamoni?”
Lamoni nodded slowly, “I do! I feel everything in me expanding, growing. I cannot even explain it, but I know that you are sharing the truth.”
Ammon nodded along with Lamoni, growing more enthusiastic as the king spoke. Abish found herself nodding too. “That feeling is the beginning of testimony. As you gain knowledge of things as they were, are, and are to come, you will feel it continue to grow and expand until you cannot contain the joy you feel.”
“Teach me, Nephite, tell me of these things.”
Ammon smiled, clasping his arm on Lamoni’s. “No longer Nephite and Lamanite, but brother to brother I will teach you these things.”
“And not just me, will you teach those in this palace too?”
“I will teach any who will listen,” he pointed to Abish, “and we’ll start with her.”
Lamoni looked at her, noticing her for the first time in many minutes. He smiled at her. “Yes, indeed, and any others who are about.” Abish jumped, searching corridors for any she could find immediately. Lemhah had been waiting not far away and seemed impatient at her request, but willing to follow the king. There were other servants about, including Ham and those who had tended sheep with Ammon. She gathered as many as she could in a matter of moments and they returned to the king’s chamber. Lamoni seemed pleased, “Yes, this will be a good start. There will be others, especially my family, but for now, this will do.”
Then Ammon began to speak. To Abish, it seemed like hours as Ammon spoke of the creation, the fall of man, the history of the children of God in the old land and the journey to the new. He told of the history of the Nephites and Lamanites in a way that Abish had never before heard. Lamoni was all astonishment as he heard a new version of events he had always been taught. Then, when the history lesson was past, he taught of the redeeming power of God through the coming of his Son. Abish could see the amazement and joy evident in the faces surrounding her.
As Ammon spoke of atonement and redemption, Lamoni hung on every word. Finally, when it seemed he had exhausted all words, there was a great, heavy silence. Lamoni sunk to his knees calling on God in the most desperate manner possible crying out, “O Lord, have mercy; according to thy abundant mercy which thou has had upon the people of Nephi. Please, Father, have such mercy upon me and my people.” Abish openly wept as she saw the desperation and torment of their king; she noticed that other eyes in the room were wet also, Ammon’s included as he knelt near the king, adding his supplication to Lamoni’s.
And then, without warning, Lamoni dropped to the ground, as if he were dead.
In less than an hour Lamoni himself was at his wife’s bedside. He was unable to stay long, but his appearance energized the queen. He comforted and reassured her, quite tenderly, Abish thought. Abish stayed back while he was there, although she sensed from his looks her direction that part of their discussion revolved around her. She bowed low as he walked toward the door, but instead of walking past her he stopped. “You, girl.” She glanced up, startled to be addressed by him, as she never had been before. His eyes were dark and unfathomable and for a moment he looked terrible to her. She looked down.
“Yes, Sire.”
“You are young to handle the life of my wife and child. I have my doubts, but she has expressed complete faith in your abilities and will have no other. Look at me.”
She raised her eyes to meet his, hoping she appeared competent and confident. He peered at her closely and continued in a low voice, “You will purchase your freedom this day if all goes well.” His gift was wholly unexpected and the look on her face must have shown her further surprise. “But by the gods, if any harm comes to this woman you will regret having ever laid eyes on me.” He swept from the room in a flurry of feathered robes. She nearly sank in fear to the deep rug underfoot, but the queen moaned and Abish quickly shook off the threat and focused on the job she had to do.
By late afternoon, Abish was exhausted. More than once she had to stifle a yawn and splash cool water in her face. She held the queen’s hand, massaged her back, rubbed her temples, spoke soothing words and held her eyes locked while she breathed. No matter how many times she was part of this miracle, she was always amazed by the strength of mothers. The queen’s progress was steady, but slow, and despite her exhaustion, Abish knew it would still be many hours before the baby was born.
As sunset approached, the queen fell against her bed, wholly drained. Abish had observed that the body changes during birth caused a woman to feel intensely sleepy between pains. Abish held the queen under her arms, stroking her damp hair softly. The pain was coming every minute now and her respite would not be long. In spite of herself, the prayer she’d carried in her heart all day spilled out of her mouth. “Dear God, she murmured against the queen’s cheek, this is a noble daughter. Please do not let her hard work this day be in vain. Please bless her with the righteous desire of her heart. If nothing else, bless her for the kindness she has often shown a slave girl.”
The queen stirred beneath her and Abish helped push her up to her knees to get on top of her next pain. While the lady never said anything about the words Abish had spoken, she seemed to do better after the prayer. She seemed more determined, more able. Instead of fighting the pain so desperately, she began working with it. Less than twenty minutes later her water broke and the progress started in earnest.
While Abish’s assistant held the queen’s arms Abish sat below the chair that had the bottom cut out of it. She was pushing well, but something was wrong. Abish knew the baby should be out by now. It had crowned, but wouldn’t drop. She was desperate for knowledge she didn’t have. Then, the Spirit whispered the peace to her heart she had longed to hear the entire day. Her fear left and she knew that she had delivered babies like this before. She pretended for a moment the stakes were no different and forced the queen to look at her. She gave instructions and used her expertise to find where the cord was wrapped around the baby’s neck. With a slip of her finger the obstruction was gone and then instructed the queen to push. Once. . . twice. . . .
And the baby girl was out into Abish’s hands, but all was not well. She was nearly blue in color and didn’t cry out the way babies usually did. Abish cut the cord and whisked her immediately away to the window where the last of the day’s sunlight was shining through, just feet from the blazing fire. It was the warmest spot in the room and the newborn’s blankets had been set up there. The queen was crying out, and Abish continued to shout encouragement while massaging the tiny purple limbs. Movement was scarce and no breath had been taken yet. Abish squeezed the girl’s cheeks to clear out the phlegmy obstruction in her mouth. On impulse, she began breathing into the little girl’s mouth, watching between each breath for her little chest to begin rising and falling on its own. She had never tried such a thing before and had nearly given up all hope when she saw a slight movement, then there was a cough and sputter and a terrifically loud cry. Her color instantly went from a sickly purple to a healthy pink in moments and Abish began laughing and crying all at once, wrapping and handing her to her mother immediately. She quieted quickly when the queen swaddled her close. The queen both wept as Abish cleaned up the afterbirth and the baby suckled.
After the baby was cleaned and fed, Lamoni was sent for and Abish stayed carefully away from the family scene. She felt a deep contentment and peace she only felt in the hours immediately after birth, especially a difficult birth. The perfect spirit of a tiny baby was so sublime it touched anything in contact with it for many weeks.
She studied Lamoni’s face from the side. Usually taciturn and reserved, he was animated and even smiling. This must be a side of him that the queen knew; the man that she had come to love despite having had no choice but to marry him. Again, before leaving he addressed Abish. This time she was better able to meet his eyes and didn’t feel as though she cowered quite so obviously before him. He called her by name, “Abish, you have done a good thing here today. My lady was right to put her trust in you. I will uphold my promise to free you, but it must be on the queen’s terms, as she sees fit. You do, after all, belong to her and not me.”
Abish fought the urge to reply that she belonged to nobody and instead bowed low as he left the chamber. She went back and sat by the queen, the exhausted baby sleeping peacefully beside her. “You should get some sleep, Your Majesty.”
“I’m too full of emotion to sleep. You look tired as well.”
“It was a long day.” And a long night, Abish nearly added.
The queen abruptly changed subject, “Has your slavery here been so awful?”
As always at such times, Abish chose her words with care, “You have always been most kind to me, my Lady. Sometimes I think you have almost been a friend. Even before I was an especial servant to you or even a midwife, Lamoni’s treatment was fair and just.”
“But you wish to leave us.”
“I have never expressed this wish.”
“Yet Lamoni promised you your freedom if this baby came to us whole, and if I survived my experience.”
“He did.”
“And you did not contradict his offer.”
“I am a slave, Madam. I am not in the habit of contradicting a king.”
She sighed deeply. “And regardless of how well you have been treated, you are still not free to make your own choices.”
“No, I am not.”
She held her free arm out and tipped Abish’s head slightly and looked at the notch in her ear. Abish was quiet, marveling that for the second time in less than a day somebody was really seeing her. “If I set you free, where will you go?”
“I have no where to go. This is the only life I have known for many years.”
“You must have come from somewhere.” It was the first time in the months she had slept in the next room that the queen ever ventured to learn more of her.
“It is not a place I can ever go back to.”
The queen nodded, understanding. She seemed to change the subject as she said, “During this long and difficult day, there was a moment you prayed over me. It somehow gave me great strength. I have never prayed, nor was I taught to pray, but when I was a young girl I had a grandmother whom often prayed. Your prayer to a personal, singular God reminds me of the prayers I would catch her uttering aloud at times. So, I say again, Abish, you must have come from somewhere.”
Abish wavered for a moment, the queen had not exactly asked a question, but the implication was obvious and she could no longer hide her past. “My father loved me deeply. He was an apprentice to the priests in the land of Middoni. Then he had a vision.”
“And what was this vision?”
“The only God who lives in the Heavens visited my father to tell him that the life he was following was an abomination. God exhorted him to actually read the scriptures hidden from the Lamanites. He was to call the Lamanites to repentance.”
“And how did the Middonites take this call?” She prodded gently.
Abish lowered her eyes, again feeling unfamiliar tears welling up, wondering how much longer she could hold them back. “He was killed. Sacrificed to false Gods on the temple altar.”
The queen shuddered. Lamoni was not always exactly a gentle man and his anger was sharp and sudden when it came, but she was grateful that human sacrifices were never performed in this part of the Land of Nephi. She wasn’t sure she could have ever gotten used to such cruelty regardless of political expedience. “Were you there?”
“My mother knew it was coming and she fled the city. I ran away before she could take me with her, and I stayed behind so that I would know his fate. After his death, my only choice seemed to be to try and locate her.”
“But you didn’t make it.” The answer was obvious and Abish shook her head slightly. “How can you be so committed and cheerful in your service to this household?”
Abish was again surprised by the many directions this conversation took. “My father taught me of his beliefs before he died. He knew I was committed to them. He admonished me to live for my beliefs. I have never forgotten his charge. I chose to stay behind with my father, and I knew there would be consequences for that. So instead of regretting having loved him more than I’ve ever loved anyone else, I try to be the person the God of Heaven knows I am.”
“And who is that?” The queen was clearly fascinated and Abish’s heart warmed within her.
“I am his child, as are you. As is this new life who has come to you and Lamoni this day. God loves us and wants what is best for us. I may not have exactly chosen to become a slave, but I learned quickly that my attitude would make all the difference in how I was treated, and particularly in my perception of how I was treated.”
“Your words bring me comfort and peace at the end of a long and difficult day.”
“Thank you for your understanding, but now it is time for you to get some rest.” Abish stood, fighting to keep her standing, her aloofness.
“I know. I just have one more question.”
“Yes?”
“Will you always be alone in your belief, or will there be a time that others believe too?”
Abish paused only a moment before whispering, “What does your heart tell you?”
The queen also hesitated before replying, “That a message of love and peace and kindness is just what this land needs.”
“There will be others. And I think the time is near.” The queen looked at her very directly as Abish curtseyed and turned once more to leave the room.
“Abish.” She turned back one last time. “The notch in your ear says you are a slave for life. Perhaps it is time you grow your hair out. I know you have no where to go, but you are free to if you would like. And if not, I would ask that you would stay here in the palace. We need a good midwife and I am sure that you could be paid for your services.”
Impulsively, Abish planted a kiss on the queen’s fair cheek. She repeated the spirit of Ammon’s words from the previous day, “It is my desire to be your servant, perhaps for all the days of my life. There has never been another who has shown such kindness; there has never been another I could tell my heart to. I will not leave you, or this household, as long as I am needed.”
“And I will release you from your oath when it is time.” The queen returned her simple kiss and the bond between them was sealed.
Abish woke up several times that night to check on baby and mother, but like most newborns, the baby was sleepy. Abish let them rest, knowing that tomorrow they would begin a regimen of making sure the little princess ate regularly to gain weight and thrive. She would send word to the servant quarters tomorrow that the queen was in need of a nurse; perhaps Sasha could be spared. It would allow her to spend hours each day interacting with her own son instead of strapping him onto her back. Finally, just a few hours before dawn she fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.
While she wasn’t exactly refreshed the next morning, she still felt ready to face her day. She made sure the queen was comfortable and then made her way to the slave’s quarters, grateful to not be worrying about subterfuge. By the time she arrived, most of the room was emptied of women who were already about their duties. The palace was buzzing with news of the new baby; word of the nature of her birth had also escaped and Abish could see the near-awe that she was looked upon by the other women.
She finally located Sasha scrubbing floors in the dining room. Abish strode confidently to her side and then saw something that left her in great dismay. Sasha was crying. It was quiet, but profound. Her tears dripped down her face as she worked steadily. Abish was alarmed, “Sasha, whatever can be the matter?”
“It is Ham. . .” She sniffed loudly before she could finish.
“Is he all right?”
“He won’t be.”
“What has happened?”
“Today when they went out on shepherding duty, they called Ham. This is the Nephite’s second day and they actually allowed him to choose whom he wanted to come with him—like he is in charge or something! He picked the strongest and most obedient slaves to go with him. How could he have known that? And why would they let him punish all these good men?”
Abish was surprised at these tidings herself, but saw the situation in a very different light.
“Everything will be fine.”
“How?”
“I believe this man can protect his brethren as well as the sheep.”
Sasha’s tone went from sorrow to a kind of mocking bitterness in almost an instant, “Oh, that is right, I nearly forgot. He is your Nephite. How could any harm come to him or any around him if Abish says that he is the strongest and best. Abish, the one who can do anything can now predict the future too! He probably only chose Ham because of you—you are the one that convinced him to wake him up that night.” Abish was unsure what to say next. Sasha’s voice had risen slightly and she was nearly hostile.
“I am deeply sorry, friend.”
Her calming words seemed to take some of the steam out of Sasha’s tirade and in its place was just sorrow. “I am sorry too; I know this isn’t your fault, nor is it something you would have chosen for us.” “Maybe we will just have to trust God.” It was a thing she would normally never say aloud, but her conversation with the queen the night before made her bold.
Sasha scoffed, “I think the gods care very little for the likes of Ham and me.”
“And why not? You are good, hard-working honest people who are trying your very best to make a happy life. Why should you not be helped in such endeavors?”
Sasha looked at her for a moment, her tears finally subsiding. And, for the first time since finding her that morning, there was the slightest hint of hope in her dark eyes. “I don’t know why, but I find it surprisingly easy to believe you sometimes.”
Abish smiled, “Good. Because I have some news that you will really want to hear.”
Sasha readily agreed to be the princess’s nurse, if the queen would have her. As she agreed, tears came to her eyes for a second time. This time for joy. Such a position would mean much more time to spend with her child, and Sasha wasn’t ignorant of the other benefits of having the most powerful woman in the city as your ally.
The rest of the day was busy as the queen’s quarter adjusted itself to its new arrival. There were also many visitors—more than Abish would have preferred, but the baby was, after all, a Lamanite princess. Members from the court filed through, leaving many gifts, some of which were actually useful. The queen’s three stepchildren also lined up and dutifully kissed their little half sister. The older children had a good relationship with the young queen, but Abish could see the uncertainty on their faces. Now that she had a child of her own, would it be the same with them? But the queen had a kind and tender heart and would certainly not let her love be divided. Lamoni was in and out throughout the day, proud and attentive as a good father should be.
The next day Abish’s duties slowed considerably. The queen was doing well and so was her daughter. They decided to name her Sariah. Abish had raised her eyebrows slightly at the suggestion; she remembered seeing this name in the scriptures her father had once given her to handle. Sariah had been the name of the queen’s grandmother. And while Zaria herself had a Lamanite name, she suddenly seemed interested that this baby understand a measure of her Nephite heritage as well. She certainly didn’t look like a Nephite with her mass of dark hair, but only time would tell what color her eyes and her skin would actually be.
She knew that in the coming weeks, her position as the queen’s midwife would wane. There were other women in the palace and in the surrounding city who would need her services, but she was uncertain as to her role now. Would she continue living here? Was she really free to go as she had wished? Perhaps she had been too hasty to pledge her life to the queen in a moment of deep emotion. She tugged at her short hair. Maybe she would have to let her hair grow before she made any decisions at all.
Sasha was enthusiastic in her new duties. After less than a day she said to Abish, “I’m doing great. I’ve never eaten so well in my life and I have loved taking care of the babies all day. There is just one thing. . .”
“You would like to know how Ham is, or to let him know where you are.”
She nodded. “Yes, that is exactly it.”
“I will find out what I can.”
Abish wasn’t exactly sure how she would find out the information she sought. She wandered toward the King’s court not knowing what she would do next, but grateful to have some task to occupy her time. She was curious about Ham herself; besides, learning about him would help her to learn the fate of Ammon as well. She wandered into the back of Lamoni’s receiving hall, half expecting it to be empty so late in the day, but instead the room was crowded with people, straining to see past one another. Surprised, Abish squeezed through the group to a vantage point to the side of the room. As soon as she saw what the commotion was about, she nearly gagged.
Five men, one of whom was Ham, stood in the center of the large room speaking to the King. On the floor in front of them, in a very large basket, were arms. Actual, severed, human arms. They were speaking rapidly, and sometimes over one another, answering the King’s questions as quickly as he could ask them. Abish was thoroughly confused; it was easy to see that she had missed most of the story. She concentrated carefully, trying to piece together what had happened. Ammon was no where to be seen.
After listening for several minutes, as near as she could tell, it seemed that the men and the sheep had been attacked by a large group of men. Ammon had killed several of them with his sling and cut off the arms of any person who raised a sword against him. Abish believed their outlandish tale; the hacked arms were evidence of that.
They finished their retelling of the events and Lamoni sat in stunned silence for what seemed like several minutes. People in the room began to shift their weight uncomfortably and the closeness of the warm bodies caused Abish to begin sweating. Lamoni finally said, almost to himself, but still using his most king-like and courtly language, “Surely this is more than a man. Behold, is not this the Great Spirit who doth send such great punishments upon this people because of their murders?”
The servants looked startled at Lamoni’s words, uncertain how to respond. After several seconds, Ham cleared his throat and spoke up, “Whether he is the Great Spirit or a man, we don’t know,” he paused for a moment to glance at his companions and continued, “but this much we do know—that he cannot be slain by the enemies of the king.” There was murmured agreement in the group.
Another man, standing next to him, chimed in, “Neither can they scatter the king’s flocks when he is with us, because of his expertness and great strength.”
Ham nodded, “Whatever else he is, we know that he is a friend to the king.”
The last member of their party finished the glowing report, “And now, O king, I do not believe that man has such great power for we have seen that he cannot be slain.”
Lamoni responded when there was a break, “It must be the Great Spirit. He has come down at this time to preserve your lives, that I might not have you killed as the others before you. This is the Being that our fathers have spoken of!” Abish’s heart sang within her. She had never before heard Lamoni purport to have any religious belief. If he could acknowledge there was indeed a God in heaven, regardless of how distorted his tradition was, then certainly Ammon could find a way to talk to him.
Again, there was a space of silence for several seconds; Abish saw some kind of emotion and expression working across Lamoni’s generally stern features. It seemed that Lamoni was deeply agitated, even fearful. Abish could believe it; Lamoni sincerely thought that in facing Ammon again he would be facing his Maker. She was impressed by his boldness when he finally spoke in a voice barely above a whisper, “Where is this man who has such great power?”
Ham bowed low, suddenly chagrined, “If it please your majesty, Ammon is feeding your horses in preparation for tomorrow’s journey to the land of Nephi. It was the other job Lemhah had given to us to do this night, but we thought you would be interested to learn of these events first.”
The king’s face betrayed open astonishment now. “And yet he did not come here to boast of these deeds to be raised up in the eyes of my court? Instead he continues to follow the commands of my steward? Surely there has not been any servant among all my servants that has been so faithful as this man, for he remembers to follow through on all my commands. I desire that he should come see me, but do I dare?”
In frustration, he dismissed the crowd in the chamber. She could see the sweat bead on his brow. The heat was getting to him also, it was indeed hard to think in the crowd of people. She’d positioned herself near the front of the room against the wall, so it would take some time for everyone to make their way out. Ham was leaving the room the same time she was and she caught his attention. The room was mostly quiet, so she whispered to him where his wife was. He opened his eyes in surprise and mouthed the word ‘thank you.’ This had indeed been an astonishing day for him all around.
She heard Lamoni shift his weight on the dais behind her, and then, surprisingly, she heard her name called. She turned abruptly to see that it was only she and the king left in the room. She bowed low to him. “Is all well with my wife?” He queried quietly.
“Yes, your majesty. I only came to tell your servant, Ham, that his wife is now nurse to Princess Sariah and her sleeping arrangements have been changed.”
“Ham? The short man who spoke here with these others?”
“Yes sire.”
“He is a good servant.” Abish said nothing, but again nodded, looking down. “As are you.”
“Thank you.”
“The queen told me yesterday that you know something of the Nephite religion, more even than the queen herself who was raised among a Nephite people.”
Abish looked up, stricken. She had been honest with the queen, because it was her habit to be so. She didn’t consider that the queen might betray her confidence, particularly to Lamoni. Images of her father’s death danced before her eyes and she was suddenly afraid, but concealment was not an option. “Yes.” She responded, the word barely creaking out.
“Have you seen this Ammon?”
“I was in court the day he arrived.” She kept further information to herself. Knowing of the midnight visit might weaken the awe he felt toward Ammon at this moment.
“And what think you of him?”
Abish could scarcely believe this remarkable turn of events. A king asking her opinion! Still, she was careful for while he was vulnerable in this moment, he was still a man of great power and temper. “I think you should send for him; I think he means Your Majesty no harm.”
Lamoni abruptly clapped and Lemhah appeared. Abish stayed planted in place, having not been dismissed. “Ask Ammon to come into me if he is willing to see me.”
Lemhah bowed, “I believe he is on his way even now, Sire.”
The king suddenly looked stricken. Abish waited in silence. Would he ask her to move? Leave? Was there any way that she might be witness to this extraordinary meeting? The king’s eyes were wide, again the fear and uncertainty played through his face and anxiety oozed from him. She faced him directly, but she didn’t think he even saw her. His eyes were trained on the door, staring.
She heard a noise behind her. The king stared, as if frozen. Abish whirled quickly. Ammon stood in the doorway. He was filthy from his days’ labor, but his eyes were bright and his chin was strong. Abish’s stomach flipped as it had the first time he looked at her. She had never seen such strength, intelligence and beauty embodied by one man. Ammon glanced at her, but then saw past her to the king. He regarded the heathen king silently for a moment and then moved as if he would leave again directly.
Abish, nearly breathless, dared to speak the words the king could not, “Rabbanah,” Ammon’s eyes darted to her face. He knew the word—it was the word for great, or powerful king. Such a word was never even referenced to Lamoni, but only to his father. It gave him pause and she continued in her most courtly language, “Rabbanah, the king desireth thee to stay.”
Ammon strode forward and stood in front of Abish, who carefully bowed and took four or five steps back. He looked at Lamoni with boldness and queried, “What wilt thou that I should do for thee, O King?”
There was a long pause while Lamoni attempted to gather his wits. Abish’s back began to ache from standing still for so long. It seemed like an hour. Ammon finally repeated his question, but still the king was unable to answer. The pause was interminable, but Ammon’s booming voice finally filled the silence, “You have heard of my deeds this day, and you marvel because of it. But I am no god; I am just a man, and your servant. You desired that I should defend your flocks. I have done no more or less than what thou commanded.” Ammon’s words were as courtly as Abish’s had been. Their exchange was so formal and yet somehow personal at the same time. Abish thought she would weep for joy at the mere sound of the language.
Lamoni answered in kind, “Who art thou, that you can discern my thoughts? You say you are a man, but you must be the Great Spirit.”
“I am not.”
“Then how can you know the thoughts of my heart? Speak boldly, and tell me of the things that give you such great power of spirit and body. If you will tell me these things, whatever you want I will give unto thee. I would guard you with all the armies under my command, but I know that you have no need of this; you are more powerful than all of them. But whatever you want. I will give it, freely.” He bowed his head, as if to a sovereign.
While Lamoni’s head was down, Ammon turned his face slightly to Abish. He gave her a half-smile, a knowing smile. Hadn’t she told him just three days previous that if he would defend these flocks faithfully then Lamoni would listen to any message? She had been right; his almost-amused smile told her that she had been right. It was his way of thanking her for her help. She perceived Ammon’s wisdom, but his harmlessness in a moment as he said to the king, “If I tell you of the power by which I do these things, will you promise to listen to all my words?”
He glanced up, sharply. “That is it? All I must do is listen?” Ammon nodded. “Very well, say on; I will believe all you say.”
Ammon moved from his bold stance for the first time. He sat next to King Lamoni, at his feet and looked into his face. Lamoni moved to sit next to him. Abish was amazed; she had never seen such a thing. Abish also moved to sit, wordlessly, silently where she had been standing so that she might not be asked to leave. And, as predicted, Ammon built on Lamoni’s belief about a great spirit. He helped Lamoni to understand that there was only one God of the Universe who had created all things, including heaven, a concept Lamoni had never heard. He told the king of a personal God who knew his very thoughts and intentions. Ammon taught by asking questions and allowing Lamoni to think and listen. Abish’s heart sang out with great joy at the knowledge being reawakened in her heart as she listened to Ammon teach with such patient sincerity and love.
Lamoni asked, in awe, “Art thou sent from God?”
Ammon repeated, “I am just a man, like you, Lamoni. But the greatest part of the message I have come to share is that man, from the very beginning, was created after the image of God. We are his children! He loves us and is concerned for our well-being. So he sends his Spirit to help us learn of Him. I have been called by that Holy Spirit to teach these things unto you and your people, that you might all be brought to the knowledge of what is just and true. A portion of that Spirit dwells in me, and gives me knowledge, as well as power, depending on my faith and my righteous desires. You feel it right now too, don’t you, Lamoni?”
Lamoni nodded slowly, “I do! I feel everything in me expanding, growing. I cannot even explain it, but I know that you are sharing the truth.”
Ammon nodded along with Lamoni, growing more enthusiastic as the king spoke. Abish found herself nodding too. “That feeling is the beginning of testimony. As you gain knowledge of things as they were, are, and are to come, you will feel it continue to grow and expand until you cannot contain the joy you feel.”
“Teach me, Nephite, tell me of these things.”
Ammon smiled, clasping his arm on Lamoni’s. “No longer Nephite and Lamanite, but brother to brother I will teach you these things.”
“And not just me, will you teach those in this palace too?”
“I will teach any who will listen,” he pointed to Abish, “and we’ll start with her.”
Lamoni looked at her, noticing her for the first time in many minutes. He smiled at her. “Yes, indeed, and any others who are about.” Abish jumped, searching corridors for any she could find immediately. Lemhah had been waiting not far away and seemed impatient at her request, but willing to follow the king. There were other servants about, including Ham and those who had tended sheep with Ammon. She gathered as many as she could in a matter of moments and they returned to the king’s chamber. Lamoni seemed pleased, “Yes, this will be a good start. There will be others, especially my family, but for now, this will do.”
Then Ammon began to speak. To Abish, it seemed like hours as Ammon spoke of the creation, the fall of man, the history of the children of God in the old land and the journey to the new. He told of the history of the Nephites and Lamanites in a way that Abish had never before heard. Lamoni was all astonishment as he heard a new version of events he had always been taught. Then, when the history lesson was past, he taught of the redeeming power of God through the coming of his Son. Abish could see the amazement and joy evident in the faces surrounding her.
As Ammon spoke of atonement and redemption, Lamoni hung on every word. Finally, when it seemed he had exhausted all words, there was a great, heavy silence. Lamoni sunk to his knees calling on God in the most desperate manner possible crying out, “O Lord, have mercy; according to thy abundant mercy which thou has had upon the people of Nephi. Please, Father, have such mercy upon me and my people.” Abish openly wept as she saw the desperation and torment of their king; she noticed that other eyes in the room were wet also, Ammon’s included as he knelt near the king, adding his supplication to Lamoni’s.
And then, without warning, Lamoni dropped to the ground, as if he were dead.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Chapter 11: A Meeting
Abish was unable to sleep that night in her alcove adjacent to the queen’s chamber. Undoubtedly, after the baby came, this small chamber would be given to the nurse. But despite its plainness, Abish liked this room. It had been many years since she had slept in such relative quiet. She had so seldom been alone in her life as a slave that it was a wonderful change to have a private place for her few possessions. Many nights she would lie awake for several minutes before sleep came. She would think on her day and review the next. Her prayers in this quiet place had become more fervent and sincere when she could kneel before her bed and speak her words aloud.
But neither prayers nor sleep came readily that night. She saw Ammon’s blue eyes swimming before her every time she closed her eyes. Unless someone told him, he would have no idea the depth of what he had gotten himself into. She had an idea where he would be sleeping: probably in the men’s slave quarters. Ammon offered himself as a servant, but the king had very few people he actually paid to be in his employ. The men’s quarters were right next to the women’s. Abish herself was a slave and was known as the palace midwife, there would be no reason for the guards to suspect her as out of place in that part of the palace, even if it was very late. The only problem would be if Zaria’s pains began and Abish could not be found. Her rational impulse was to lie back down, forget about the Nephite and just let him face his fate, unsuspecting and unprepared. But her heart whispered a different story.
Noiselessly, she put her bare feet to the side of her low cot and stood. She tiptoed to the queen’s chamber and listened. The queen, despite her bulk, was resting peacefully. She had shown no more sign of being ready when she went to bed that night than she had any day for the past week. Still, Abish knew that babies came when least expected, often suddenly. She would have to hurry.
The corridor was guarded, as she had expected. Lamoni’s family all slept within this hall. The guards roughly asked her name and business, “I am Abish, the queen’s midwife; she has sent me on an errand.”
“And what is the nature of this errand?”
Abish knew the soldiers were only harassing her because it was late at night and she was alone. She had been given free reign as long as she was in such close proximity to the queen so she assumed her most haughty voice, “It is the queen’s business and none of yours.”
The soldiers exchanged amused glances, but seeing they could not intimidate her or draw her into conversation they let her pass. She moved quietly past the kitchen, hearing voices from inside. Probably slaves still cleaning from the days’ meals, or even preparing food for the next day. She shuddered with faint distaste at her memories of her time serving there. She was close to the slave quarters now.
She went to the women’s quarters. Her friends there might suggest a way to help her. The guards were alert when she entered. She stated her name, and although they probably didn’t recognize her, her clothing designated her as a slave to the royal family. Such clothing gave her passage with few questions asked. She carefully shut the door behind herself. It was late. The room was mostly dark and, as far as she could tell, all were sleeping soundly. She paused for just a moment to get her bearings. What next? Why had she come here at all? She prayed again silently that she would somehow be shown what to do. There was an aisle down the center of the large room with beds on either side. She began walking carefully into the darkness, knowing there was a small trunk at the foot of every mattress, holding each woman’s possessions.
She heard a baby cry out near the end of the row on her right. The baby was young, well under a year. She immediately heard a mother stir and make shushing noises in the dark. She moved toward the sound. On impulse, Abish said, “Sasha?”
The woman started on her bed where she had just begun feeding her baby. “Abish? Is that you?”
“Yes.”
"By the gods you frightened me! What are you doing here?” She hissed in a whisper.
Abish instantly relaxed. She and Sasha had remained close since the birth of the breech baby. It had been nearly six months ago now. It wasn’t until later that Abish learned that if he had died it would have been Sasha’s third stillborn. Perhaps that was part of the reason for the miraculous reputation she had earned almost overnight with little Omri’s birth. She was grateful that Omri had picked that exact moment to insist on a nursing. God had indeed led her to the one person in this room who would do anything she could to help her.
Abish sat softly on the end of Sasha’s sleeping mat, trying not to disturb the chubby infant sucking greedily in her friend’s arms. She chuckled as she watched him, thinking that even if she began jumping up and down and screaming, it would not deter him from his task. “Wow. He looks good.”
"I should think so, he eats like a man starved every two hours.”
“How are you doing?”
"Very well, actually. Omri loves the carrier Ham fashioned for him. I am able to do all my work with him strapped right to my back. He’s hardly slowed me down a beat.”
“Wonderful. He sure has gained weight.”
“Yep, he’s a little fatty. Just like Ham.” Abish had to stifle a laugh. Sasha’s husband was shaped like a boulder.
Abish put her arm around her and gave her a slight squeeze. “I’m so happy it all worked out for you.”
“It could never have happened without you.”
She placed a light kiss on the young mother's temple. “Oh, it’s the mothers that do all the work.”
Abish put her arm down and wondered about the best way to approach what she needed when Sasha got right to the point, “Now, I know this isn’t a house call in the middle of the night, especially with the queen ready to pop any day. You are sneaking around down here; what is going on?”
With a smile, she said, “I need some help.”
“Is everything okay?” Sasha’s voice was immediately filled with concern.
"The king acquired a new servant today.”
“Yes, a Nephite, everyone has been talking about him.”
“Where is he staying?”
“With the slaves, but none of them are happy about it. They think that having him there will bring the displeasure of the gods.”
Abish nearly bit her tongue to keep from commenting about Sasha’s superstition. Instead she said, “Lamoni told him he would help tend the sheep.”
Sasha stifled a giggle, “Yes, I’d heard that too. I guess the king doesn’t like him any better than any of the other Nephites who’ve wandered this way.”
Abish decided to be blunt. “I would like to warn him.”
“What?” Came the astonished reply in a nearly a normal voice. The woman on the cot next to her shifted slightly and the two were silent for a moment. Sasha whispered, “Why?”
Abish shook her head, “I hardly know myself. I just feel like it is the right thing to do.”
“This could be serious trouble.”
"That is why I need your help.”
Sasha looked dubious. “I don’t know . . . and besides, what could I do anyway?” Little Omri detached himself from his mother’s breast with a contented sigh and snuggled against her in an impossibly uncomfortable position that only babies could manage.
Abish stroked his soft head as he made baby smiles in his sleep. “I may be an unmarried woman, Sasha, but I know a lot about babies and how they begin growing in the first place. If the male and female slaves in Lamoni’s household are supposed to lead such separate lives, then where do the babies come from?” Abish looked at her friend very directly and could see the chagrined expression on her face even in the darkness.
“There is a passage connecting the two chambers. It is probably known about by the king but nobody speaks of it.”
"Why isn’t there just movement through the normal hallway?”
Sasha shrugged, “Who knows; maybe tradition? It has always been done this way and probably always will be.” Abish looked at her imploringly, not sure what else to say. Sasha sighed, “Oh Abish, for the gift you have given me, how can I refuse anything?”
Abish smiled as Sasha laid her baby gently on the rug next to her bed. She padded softly after Sasha down the aisle to the end of the room, past the common cooking area. There, at the back of the room was a small door. She could tell from the architecture that the low door had indeed been an afterthought, but it wasn’t exactly hidden either. In all the years she’d slept there, Abish could hardly believe she didn’t know about it. Sasha opened it without the slightest creak, and whispered, “We keep the hinges well-greased.” Abish smothered a laugh and stepped carefully through after Sasha. She whispered, “I’ll get Ham; he will help us.”
Abish took deep breaths to steady herself as she waited in the back of the room. The smell of the men’s sleeping chamber was strong and she fought the urge to run back through the door and find her bed as quickly as she could. What was she doing here? And what would she say if Ham did manage to get the Nephite to talk to her? A few minutes later Ham followed his wife to Abish. He rubbed sleep out of his eyes; she could see that he was uncertain about what they were asking.
The women explained again what was wanted, but Ham was more reluctant than his wife to help. Although he too was grateful for the life of his son, he did not have the mother’s strong love toward the one who delivered the baby. “The gods will not like this, Abish.”
She fought impatience for the second time that night at the invocation of false gods. “How do you know that? How can it be the will of the gods that Lamoni continues killing his servants in anger over something they are not responsible for? Doesn’t it make more sense to believe that the gods would be thrilled if the sheep were saved and those responsible were brought to justice?” Ham seemed to weigh her words carefully and she continued, “I know that every man in here is terrified that he will mess up and offend somebody in a position of power and end up on shepherd duty.”
Ham nodded. He could not disagree with the truth of her last statement, but then he said, “And what makes you think this Nephite is so different than any of the others? Why should he have any better luck as a shepherd than any man in this room?”
Abish smiled and reassured him the only way she knew how. “I don’t know, Ham. I only know that when this man speaks, there is something remarkable about him. He is touched by some inner fire that gives him strength. Maybe there is something to the religion of the Nephites after all.” She stopped before she said too much.
Ham sighed. “You are determined. But nobody should know that better than Sasha and Omri. I will bring your Nephite back here to speak to you, but if this all goes badly then Sasha and I had nothing to do with it.”
“You have my word.”
He walked away and Sasha gave her a reassuring squeeze on her hand. “Everything will be fine, Abish. I’m glad Ham and I have been able to somehow repay you even though I think you must be touched in the head to even go near a Nephite.”
“Let’s not pass judgment just yet,” she said, smiling.
Sasha shrugged. “Whatever you say. Just make sure you don’t forget and go out that entrance.” She pointed to the opposite end of the long hall.
“I won’t.”
Sasha slipped wordlessly back into the women’s section and a moment later she saw Ham in the aisle, pointing Ammon toward Abish. She swallowed hard as he walked toward her. His chest was now uncovered and she was struck again by how strong he was. He was taller than he’d seemed earlier; probably because she had been standing on the dais near the king. In the dark she had difficulty imagining the light that seemed to surround him earlier that morning and she suddenly felt afraid. When his eyes adjusted to the darkness and he saw her fully, the dismay in his eyes was evident. Before she could speak he said, “Milady, this is no place for the king’s daughter.”
She nearly laughed aloud thinking about her short hair, always cropped near her scalp and the disfiguring earlobe that would never heal. “I am not the king’s daughter.”
He looked momentarily puzzled, “But you were there today, on the dais. I saw you look at me so directly when the king asked if I would marry his daughter. . .”
She quickly corrected him, “I am the queen’s slave and midwife. I was in court today to learn of gossip that might amuse her. She is impatient for delivery and becomes bored easily. King Lamoni’s daughter is still a child.”
His eyes widened “Why would he . . .”
She waved off his comment with her hand. “Old Lamanite tradition. Had you agreed to marry his daughter then you would have been his servant anyway, for pretty much as long as it pleased him.”
"I understand, but I still don’t know why you have come. It isn’t meet for any lady to be alone in such a place, regardless of your standing in this palace.”
She flushed, grateful for the dark to cover her red face. “I came to warn you.” She came directly to the point.
He nearly laughed aloud, “Are you kidding? These men here seem more afraid of me than anything. Even when your friend woke me up, he did no more than prod me with a stick. If my life is in danger, they will have to kill me without touching me.”
Abish smiled but shook her head. “No, it is the shepherding that is the hazard.”
Again, he nearly laughed out loud. “How can it be?”
With a sigh. she motioned for Ammon to sit. She sat on the ground, wanting him to understand the whole situation, and knowing it would not be a short story. “Lamoni’s father is king over all the Lamanite lands. There are many areas ruled separately, however. Lamoni’s father doles these lands out to his sons or friends as he sees fit. Some of the lands are more desirable than others. When he dies, one of his sons will be named king over all the Lamanites. He will ask whoever seems to be the most competent. Lamoni has always been held in great favor with his father. He is fair and honest. His wife is an Amalekite, so he has forged an important friendship with a group that nobody wants as enemies.” Ammon nodded, he obviously knew of her people.
“About two years ago, Lamoni began having serious trouble with his sheep. They are often driven away, scattered and stolen. Each time the flock is rebuilt or found, it happens again. For many years, the land of Ishmael was known for its sheep—the king’s sheep being the best of those. But in two years, Lamoni has not been able to turn a profit from his sheep because of the problems.”
“Who is doing this?”
“Nobody knows for sure, but there are suspicions. Lamoni’s brother runs a neighboring city—a lesser city with few resources. The queen says this brother has been jealous of Lamoni for many years. She believes that the scattering is all a game to make Lamoni look bad and improve the brother’s standing in front of his father.”
“So that he might one day be king of the Lamanites instead?”
Abish shrugged, “Or at least so that Lamoni will not be.”
“So is my life in danger because those who do the scattering kill the shepherds?”
She nodded. “Sometimes, but there is more to it than that. This whole game makes Lamoni furious, of course. In many other areas of his rule he is actually quite a temperate, generous man. Not so with the sheep problem. Lamoni has servants and slaves put to death when they are unable to defend the flocks. Especially if they can provide no information about their attackers.”
Maybe she just imagined it, but she saw the blood drain from his face, even in the dark. It was nearly silent for a moment, the only sound coming from the sleepers in the room. “Why would your king set me to this task just moments after offering his daughter as a marriage partner?”
“I do not know. Perhaps you offended him by refusing.”
“I thought to honor him by serving.”
“Perhaps you will.”
"This task seems very difficult.”
Again, there was silence as she framed her words carefully. “I came to tell you these things tonight because I believe deeply that you might be the one to turn this around. If you could, Lamoni would listen to any words that you said.”
He raised his eyebrows and peered closely at her, “And what makes you think I have come to tell Lamoni anything?”
“Only one time have I seen another person carry the light of the true God in their eyes the way you do. That person taught me the gospel and then was killed for his beliefs.” Her eyes filled with years of unshed tears that came unbidden, she sniffed them back, willing them to stop. “His final admonition to me was to live for my beliefs, and that if I did I would see a time when others came to a knowledge of the Redeemer who has yet to come—the God the Nephites proclaim. I have prayed for many years that this day would come. The voice in my heart whispered deliverance today when I looked at you as you spoke toe-to-toe with a king.”
He spoke in a whisper of such low intensity she had to strain to hear, “The same voice spoke to my heart, telling me to come to the land of Ishmael because someone had prayed me here.” He put his strong hand under her chin and held it up to face him. “I would never have guessed those prayers had come from the slave of a king.” He turned her head slightly to the side, observing the notch in her ear beneath her short hair. “This defect was given to you, was it not?”
The tears she had been fighting now spilled easily, but noiselessly down her cheeks. Not since the day of her father’s death had another person looked at her so directly and seen her for what she was—a daughter of God. Not since her father’s death had she allowed such tears to fall. She choked out the words, “It is the mark of a slave.”
“I will guard the king’s sheep, and then I will stand before your king to proclaim that all men and women are equal in the sight of the true God of Heaven. I will do all in my power to see that you are not a slave for the remainder of your life.”
Ammon still held her face for a moment longer and she whispered, “You are sent from God himself.”
He dropped his hand, “I will serve him as long as there is breath in my body.”
“Then do not go to the waters of Sebus unprepared.” She stood. “I must leave; the queen is often in need of me during the night. It would not be well with me if my absence was discovered.”
He stood easily too. “I understand, and I thank you.” She turned away from him toward the low door. His voice rose just slightly and called her back, “What is your name?”
“Abish.” She whispered and then scurried back through the passage toward the women’s quarters.
But neither prayers nor sleep came readily that night. She saw Ammon’s blue eyes swimming before her every time she closed her eyes. Unless someone told him, he would have no idea the depth of what he had gotten himself into. She had an idea where he would be sleeping: probably in the men’s slave quarters. Ammon offered himself as a servant, but the king had very few people he actually paid to be in his employ. The men’s quarters were right next to the women’s. Abish herself was a slave and was known as the palace midwife, there would be no reason for the guards to suspect her as out of place in that part of the palace, even if it was very late. The only problem would be if Zaria’s pains began and Abish could not be found. Her rational impulse was to lie back down, forget about the Nephite and just let him face his fate, unsuspecting and unprepared. But her heart whispered a different story.
Noiselessly, she put her bare feet to the side of her low cot and stood. She tiptoed to the queen’s chamber and listened. The queen, despite her bulk, was resting peacefully. She had shown no more sign of being ready when she went to bed that night than she had any day for the past week. Still, Abish knew that babies came when least expected, often suddenly. She would have to hurry.
The corridor was guarded, as she had expected. Lamoni’s family all slept within this hall. The guards roughly asked her name and business, “I am Abish, the queen’s midwife; she has sent me on an errand.”
“And what is the nature of this errand?”
Abish knew the soldiers were only harassing her because it was late at night and she was alone. She had been given free reign as long as she was in such close proximity to the queen so she assumed her most haughty voice, “It is the queen’s business and none of yours.”
The soldiers exchanged amused glances, but seeing they could not intimidate her or draw her into conversation they let her pass. She moved quietly past the kitchen, hearing voices from inside. Probably slaves still cleaning from the days’ meals, or even preparing food for the next day. She shuddered with faint distaste at her memories of her time serving there. She was close to the slave quarters now.
She went to the women’s quarters. Her friends there might suggest a way to help her. The guards were alert when she entered. She stated her name, and although they probably didn’t recognize her, her clothing designated her as a slave to the royal family. Such clothing gave her passage with few questions asked. She carefully shut the door behind herself. It was late. The room was mostly dark and, as far as she could tell, all were sleeping soundly. She paused for just a moment to get her bearings. What next? Why had she come here at all? She prayed again silently that she would somehow be shown what to do. There was an aisle down the center of the large room with beds on either side. She began walking carefully into the darkness, knowing there was a small trunk at the foot of every mattress, holding each woman’s possessions.
She heard a baby cry out near the end of the row on her right. The baby was young, well under a year. She immediately heard a mother stir and make shushing noises in the dark. She moved toward the sound. On impulse, Abish said, “Sasha?”
The woman started on her bed where she had just begun feeding her baby. “Abish? Is that you?”
“Yes.”
"By the gods you frightened me! What are you doing here?” She hissed in a whisper.
Abish instantly relaxed. She and Sasha had remained close since the birth of the breech baby. It had been nearly six months ago now. It wasn’t until later that Abish learned that if he had died it would have been Sasha’s third stillborn. Perhaps that was part of the reason for the miraculous reputation she had earned almost overnight with little Omri’s birth. She was grateful that Omri had picked that exact moment to insist on a nursing. God had indeed led her to the one person in this room who would do anything she could to help her.
Abish sat softly on the end of Sasha’s sleeping mat, trying not to disturb the chubby infant sucking greedily in her friend’s arms. She chuckled as she watched him, thinking that even if she began jumping up and down and screaming, it would not deter him from his task. “Wow. He looks good.”
"I should think so, he eats like a man starved every two hours.”
“How are you doing?”
"Very well, actually. Omri loves the carrier Ham fashioned for him. I am able to do all my work with him strapped right to my back. He’s hardly slowed me down a beat.”
“Wonderful. He sure has gained weight.”
“Yep, he’s a little fatty. Just like Ham.” Abish had to stifle a laugh. Sasha’s husband was shaped like a boulder.
Abish put her arm around her and gave her a slight squeeze. “I’m so happy it all worked out for you.”
“It could never have happened without you.”
She placed a light kiss on the young mother's temple. “Oh, it’s the mothers that do all the work.”
Abish put her arm down and wondered about the best way to approach what she needed when Sasha got right to the point, “Now, I know this isn’t a house call in the middle of the night, especially with the queen ready to pop any day. You are sneaking around down here; what is going on?”
With a smile, she said, “I need some help.”
“Is everything okay?” Sasha’s voice was immediately filled with concern.
"The king acquired a new servant today.”
“Yes, a Nephite, everyone has been talking about him.”
“Where is he staying?”
“With the slaves, but none of them are happy about it. They think that having him there will bring the displeasure of the gods.”
Abish nearly bit her tongue to keep from commenting about Sasha’s superstition. Instead she said, “Lamoni told him he would help tend the sheep.”
Sasha stifled a giggle, “Yes, I’d heard that too. I guess the king doesn’t like him any better than any of the other Nephites who’ve wandered this way.”
Abish decided to be blunt. “I would like to warn him.”
“What?” Came the astonished reply in a nearly a normal voice. The woman on the cot next to her shifted slightly and the two were silent for a moment. Sasha whispered, “Why?”
Abish shook her head, “I hardly know myself. I just feel like it is the right thing to do.”
“This could be serious trouble.”
"That is why I need your help.”
Sasha looked dubious. “I don’t know . . . and besides, what could I do anyway?” Little Omri detached himself from his mother’s breast with a contented sigh and snuggled against her in an impossibly uncomfortable position that only babies could manage.
Abish stroked his soft head as he made baby smiles in his sleep. “I may be an unmarried woman, Sasha, but I know a lot about babies and how they begin growing in the first place. If the male and female slaves in Lamoni’s household are supposed to lead such separate lives, then where do the babies come from?” Abish looked at her friend very directly and could see the chagrined expression on her face even in the darkness.
“There is a passage connecting the two chambers. It is probably known about by the king but nobody speaks of it.”
"Why isn’t there just movement through the normal hallway?”
Sasha shrugged, “Who knows; maybe tradition? It has always been done this way and probably always will be.” Abish looked at her imploringly, not sure what else to say. Sasha sighed, “Oh Abish, for the gift you have given me, how can I refuse anything?”
Abish smiled as Sasha laid her baby gently on the rug next to her bed. She padded softly after Sasha down the aisle to the end of the room, past the common cooking area. There, at the back of the room was a small door. She could tell from the architecture that the low door had indeed been an afterthought, but it wasn’t exactly hidden either. In all the years she’d slept there, Abish could hardly believe she didn’t know about it. Sasha opened it without the slightest creak, and whispered, “We keep the hinges well-greased.” Abish smothered a laugh and stepped carefully through after Sasha. She whispered, “I’ll get Ham; he will help us.”
Abish took deep breaths to steady herself as she waited in the back of the room. The smell of the men’s sleeping chamber was strong and she fought the urge to run back through the door and find her bed as quickly as she could. What was she doing here? And what would she say if Ham did manage to get the Nephite to talk to her? A few minutes later Ham followed his wife to Abish. He rubbed sleep out of his eyes; she could see that he was uncertain about what they were asking.
The women explained again what was wanted, but Ham was more reluctant than his wife to help. Although he too was grateful for the life of his son, he did not have the mother’s strong love toward the one who delivered the baby. “The gods will not like this, Abish.”
She fought impatience for the second time that night at the invocation of false gods. “How do you know that? How can it be the will of the gods that Lamoni continues killing his servants in anger over something they are not responsible for? Doesn’t it make more sense to believe that the gods would be thrilled if the sheep were saved and those responsible were brought to justice?” Ham seemed to weigh her words carefully and she continued, “I know that every man in here is terrified that he will mess up and offend somebody in a position of power and end up on shepherd duty.”
Ham nodded. He could not disagree with the truth of her last statement, but then he said, “And what makes you think this Nephite is so different than any of the others? Why should he have any better luck as a shepherd than any man in this room?”
Abish smiled and reassured him the only way she knew how. “I don’t know, Ham. I only know that when this man speaks, there is something remarkable about him. He is touched by some inner fire that gives him strength. Maybe there is something to the religion of the Nephites after all.” She stopped before she said too much.
Ham sighed. “You are determined. But nobody should know that better than Sasha and Omri. I will bring your Nephite back here to speak to you, but if this all goes badly then Sasha and I had nothing to do with it.”
“You have my word.”
He walked away and Sasha gave her a reassuring squeeze on her hand. “Everything will be fine, Abish. I’m glad Ham and I have been able to somehow repay you even though I think you must be touched in the head to even go near a Nephite.”
“Let’s not pass judgment just yet,” she said, smiling.
Sasha shrugged. “Whatever you say. Just make sure you don’t forget and go out that entrance.” She pointed to the opposite end of the long hall.
“I won’t.”
Sasha slipped wordlessly back into the women’s section and a moment later she saw Ham in the aisle, pointing Ammon toward Abish. She swallowed hard as he walked toward her. His chest was now uncovered and she was struck again by how strong he was. He was taller than he’d seemed earlier; probably because she had been standing on the dais near the king. In the dark she had difficulty imagining the light that seemed to surround him earlier that morning and she suddenly felt afraid. When his eyes adjusted to the darkness and he saw her fully, the dismay in his eyes was evident. Before she could speak he said, “Milady, this is no place for the king’s daughter.”
She nearly laughed aloud thinking about her short hair, always cropped near her scalp and the disfiguring earlobe that would never heal. “I am not the king’s daughter.”
He looked momentarily puzzled, “But you were there today, on the dais. I saw you look at me so directly when the king asked if I would marry his daughter. . .”
She quickly corrected him, “I am the queen’s slave and midwife. I was in court today to learn of gossip that might amuse her. She is impatient for delivery and becomes bored easily. King Lamoni’s daughter is still a child.”
His eyes widened “Why would he . . .”
She waved off his comment with her hand. “Old Lamanite tradition. Had you agreed to marry his daughter then you would have been his servant anyway, for pretty much as long as it pleased him.”
"I understand, but I still don’t know why you have come. It isn’t meet for any lady to be alone in such a place, regardless of your standing in this palace.”
She flushed, grateful for the dark to cover her red face. “I came to warn you.” She came directly to the point.
He nearly laughed aloud, “Are you kidding? These men here seem more afraid of me than anything. Even when your friend woke me up, he did no more than prod me with a stick. If my life is in danger, they will have to kill me without touching me.”
Abish smiled but shook her head. “No, it is the shepherding that is the hazard.”
Again, he nearly laughed out loud. “How can it be?”
With a sigh. she motioned for Ammon to sit. She sat on the ground, wanting him to understand the whole situation, and knowing it would not be a short story. “Lamoni’s father is king over all the Lamanite lands. There are many areas ruled separately, however. Lamoni’s father doles these lands out to his sons or friends as he sees fit. Some of the lands are more desirable than others. When he dies, one of his sons will be named king over all the Lamanites. He will ask whoever seems to be the most competent. Lamoni has always been held in great favor with his father. He is fair and honest. His wife is an Amalekite, so he has forged an important friendship with a group that nobody wants as enemies.” Ammon nodded, he obviously knew of her people.
“About two years ago, Lamoni began having serious trouble with his sheep. They are often driven away, scattered and stolen. Each time the flock is rebuilt or found, it happens again. For many years, the land of Ishmael was known for its sheep—the king’s sheep being the best of those. But in two years, Lamoni has not been able to turn a profit from his sheep because of the problems.”
“Who is doing this?”
“Nobody knows for sure, but there are suspicions. Lamoni’s brother runs a neighboring city—a lesser city with few resources. The queen says this brother has been jealous of Lamoni for many years. She believes that the scattering is all a game to make Lamoni look bad and improve the brother’s standing in front of his father.”
“So that he might one day be king of the Lamanites instead?”
Abish shrugged, “Or at least so that Lamoni will not be.”
“So is my life in danger because those who do the scattering kill the shepherds?”
She nodded. “Sometimes, but there is more to it than that. This whole game makes Lamoni furious, of course. In many other areas of his rule he is actually quite a temperate, generous man. Not so with the sheep problem. Lamoni has servants and slaves put to death when they are unable to defend the flocks. Especially if they can provide no information about their attackers.”
Maybe she just imagined it, but she saw the blood drain from his face, even in the dark. It was nearly silent for a moment, the only sound coming from the sleepers in the room. “Why would your king set me to this task just moments after offering his daughter as a marriage partner?”
“I do not know. Perhaps you offended him by refusing.”
“I thought to honor him by serving.”
“Perhaps you will.”
"This task seems very difficult.”
Again, there was silence as she framed her words carefully. “I came to tell you these things tonight because I believe deeply that you might be the one to turn this around. If you could, Lamoni would listen to any words that you said.”
He raised his eyebrows and peered closely at her, “And what makes you think I have come to tell Lamoni anything?”
“Only one time have I seen another person carry the light of the true God in their eyes the way you do. That person taught me the gospel and then was killed for his beliefs.” Her eyes filled with years of unshed tears that came unbidden, she sniffed them back, willing them to stop. “His final admonition to me was to live for my beliefs, and that if I did I would see a time when others came to a knowledge of the Redeemer who has yet to come—the God the Nephites proclaim. I have prayed for many years that this day would come. The voice in my heart whispered deliverance today when I looked at you as you spoke toe-to-toe with a king.”
He spoke in a whisper of such low intensity she had to strain to hear, “The same voice spoke to my heart, telling me to come to the land of Ishmael because someone had prayed me here.” He put his strong hand under her chin and held it up to face him. “I would never have guessed those prayers had come from the slave of a king.” He turned her head slightly to the side, observing the notch in her ear beneath her short hair. “This defect was given to you, was it not?”
The tears she had been fighting now spilled easily, but noiselessly down her cheeks. Not since the day of her father’s death had another person looked at her so directly and seen her for what she was—a daughter of God. Not since her father’s death had she allowed such tears to fall. She choked out the words, “It is the mark of a slave.”
“I will guard the king’s sheep, and then I will stand before your king to proclaim that all men and women are equal in the sight of the true God of Heaven. I will do all in my power to see that you are not a slave for the remainder of your life.”
Ammon still held her face for a moment longer and she whispered, “You are sent from God himself.”
He dropped his hand, “I will serve him as long as there is breath in my body.”
“Then do not go to the waters of Sebus unprepared.” She stood. “I must leave; the queen is often in need of me during the night. It would not be well with me if my absence was discovered.”
He stood easily too. “I understand, and I thank you.” She turned away from him toward the low door. His voice rose just slightly and called her back, “What is your name?”
“Abish.” She whispered and then scurried back through the passage toward the women’s quarters.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Chapter 10: The Servant of a King
Abish stared idly out the queen’s window. Her majesty’s time was close, and in her fear she desired Abish to never be far from her. She was doing fine, but the birth of a prince or princess was a very important thing and Abish was not cavalier about her lack of experience. Almost daily they were making sure the baby’s head was down and tracking its movements to make sure that it was still alive and not agitated. Her body showed signs of being ready, but Abish believed it would still be several days. The queen emerged from her bath and handed Abish the brush. Abish worked slowly and methodically. The queen was unusually silent during this morning routine. After several minutes she finally said, “I am sure that you have been most bored these days, Abish.”
Abish smiled slightly, “Your bidding has been to stay near you. If your ladyship has been bored, then I suppose I have been too.”
The queen likewise smiled, “You should have been a diplomat, dear; you have such a way of putting things." Abish continued brushing, and after a moment the queen followed up. “But you are right. I’m excessively bored. There is little that I can do these days save sit around and grow fat.”
“You look lovely.” Abish smiled at the queen’s wry face in the mirror as she twisted the back of her hair and pulled it up. Abish had never seen the queen wear her hair up until just a few weeks ago. The weather had been beastly hot again and the pregnancy made the queen uncomfortable. The reddish masses were not as striking when they were up, but the queen was indeed lovely. Pregnancy had given her a glow that even Lamoni seemed to notice. In her experience, men became less attentive and even absent as their wives’ bellies grew, but the king had been just the opposite. He constantly deferred to her and never failed to put out a hand to help his wife. Abish had always believed Lamoni to be more impressive than the king she was raised under, but as she watched the treatment of the queen these many months, she liked him more than ever.
“Well, both of us don’t have to be bored. I’m feeling well today. Why don’t you go down to my husband’s court this morning and watch for anything interesting? After lunch we can stroll through the back of the palace and you can tell me all the gossip.”
Abish smiled, knowing her appearance in Lamoni’s throne room that morning would only cause him to wonder if the queen was delivering, but also knowing that the queen would trust no one else to report the affairs of the kingdom honestly. She bowed slightly, “As your majesty wishes.”
She made her way down to the king’s council chamber, concentrating carefully so that no wrong turns were made. She had not been to this part of the palace in many, many months and the corridors could be very confusing. In her concentration, she nearly ran into Lemhah as she rounded a corner with her head down. She flushed darkly, bowing her head and apologizing.
“That is all right, Abish. Is it her time, yet?”
Keeping her eyes averted, she shook her head. At some level she knew that she was a valued part of this household, but the she was constantly aware of her designation as a slave. “No sir, the queen only desired that I listen in the king’s chamber this day to bring her news of the court.”
“Very well, then. I will precede you to the counsel chamber and inform the King of your intentions to observe his court this day.”
She fell behind him, walking slowly so that he would have time to deliver his message. In just moments she entered the noisy room. Courtiers loitered, discussing business of the day. There were very few women, and all of them slaves. They were court slaves, and she knew none of them directly. They wore sheer gowns, in contrast to the tunics of animal skins that many of the men wore. These men were not warriors, but wearing the skin of a leopard or a puma gave a man great standing among his companions. It was likely their slaves or servants had killed these animals as well as prepared the clothing, but such a thing was never discussed. The women walked among the noisy men like ghosts, although stray eyes and even hands often wandered to the diaphanous fabric and the bodies underneath. Abish knew the queen was vehemently opposed to these women and their presence in the king’s court, but while the queen would vent her criticism and even venture to disclose that she had spoken to her husband about it, she never went so far as to tell Abish what his response had been.
Abish listened with one ear to the commonplace comings and goings within Lamoni’s sphere of influence, but her thoughts were far away. She knew she should pay attention or miss hearing something that might interest the queen, but while she might report faithfully what she hear, it held little real interest for her. Her mind strayed, as it often did in recent weeks, to what might happen to her after the baby came. Her chance encounter with Lemhah had reminded her again that she was still a slave to this family, though her duties were light and her status was valuable. Their might be a chance to marry. She was not beautiful, but she wasn’t ugly. The queen had a large sheet of brass that had been hammered and polished until it shone brightly. If the light was good, a person could actually see their reflection in it. The queen had once offered to allow Abish to look into this great treasure. She was surprised that beyond the plainness there was something else, a fire and light in her eyes that made her appearance unique, maybe even striking. Her face reminded her of Armac’s, though her own was softer, more feminine. She would never have the delicate body or fine features of a Lamanite noblewoman, but she had something. In a rare personal comment the queen had even told her as much. Though she pretended to be oblivious as she did her work, there were sometimes stray glances her way. Yes, there might be a chance to marry.
As she thought about marriage to any of these men, she fought the urge to shudder. For all her confidence, she knew she was slightly afraid of men generally. The only thing that saddened her as much as the death of a mother or a baby was finding out the terrible particulars of the lives of some of the women she had helped. Terrible experience had shown her that all men were not as good and noble as her father had been. It was probably more accurate to say very few were like him. And for all her hard work, the slave-women in the inner court were a painful reminder that she was subject to any whim a man in the palace might have.
It was in the middle of this thought that she saw the Nephite for the first time. He was brought into the king by soldiers pushing their way to the front of the people still waiting audience with Lamoni. While guarded heavily, he didn’t seem to be struggling in any way. Although, thought Abish, he could have been struggling if he wanted to be. His tunic fully covered him from his shoulders to his knees, but his arms and legs were strong and lean. He appeared to be at total ease. He was nearly dark enough to be a Lamanite, but the tone of his skin was somehow different than Lamanite skin. His hair, rather than being black like nearly every person she had ever seen, was barely brown. His eyes also gave him away for what he was—clear, bright, blue and wide, soaking in everything around him. Abish, forgetting that she generally kept her eyes averted, stared openly. While the guards were explaining where they had found him, she found herself completely and fully mesmerized by his presence. There was light all around him, or so it seemed. She understood that he wasn’t exactly radiating, but there was something about him that drew her to him, the way plants grew toward the sun. In a flash she knew that marriage would not be the end of the world if there were men such as this in the world.
Lamoni was in the middle of asking Lemhah if anybody in the court spoke the language of the Nephites when the Nephite himself interrupted, “No translator is necessary, Your Highness, I can understand your words.” He bowed slightly, as he spoke, but Abish couldn’t help but think the bowing should have gone the other way. There was something royal about this foreigner. When he finished bowing, he smiled. It seemed to her that the whole room grew brighter.
The king, in spite of himself, seemed very pleased. A half-smile passed through his features, an expression she had sometimes seen when he was with the queen. “You are the first Nephite I have known to speak our language.”
“Have you known many Nephites?” The man’s tone was respectful, but surprisingly conversational.
“A few.”
“And what of them?”
“It is my pleasure what becomes of them, really.”
“You must be a very powerful king.” He bowed again.
“And you are a shocking flatterer, but there is something about you I like.” There was a pause as the king said this. He motioned a slave girl carrying a plate of fruit toward him. He began eating off the plate while he sized the man up. “So, Nephite, what is your desire? Did you just wander over from Zarahemla, getting lost in the jungle, or were you hoping to find warm reception here—to live among the Lamanites? Maybe right here in the Land of Ishmael?”
“I desire to dwell among this people for a time. Perhaps until the day I die. Which I hope, Your Majesty, is later rather than sooner.” There was an earnestness about him that made it impossible for Abish to take her eyes from him. He was indeed a flatterer, and he had a way with words, but she felt with her whole heart that each word was spoken with deep sincerity.
Lamoni motioned at his near guard, “Untie him.” The order was complied with immediately and the Nephite was unbound. “Now, perhaps we might get better acquainted. What is your name?”
“My name is Ammon, King Lamoni.”
“Ah, I see you already know my name.”
“A man would be a fool to travel so great a distance and not know the name of the one he had hoped to meet, or to learn anything of his customs.”
“I suppose that explains why you speak my language.”
“I learned it in the house of my father.”
Abish peered closely at him. In Lamanite lands, it was common to know more than one manner of speaking—their culture had been assembled from various others through generations, but she had thought the Nephites had only one language. Either Ammon had a Lamanite parent or he was a very important person to have had the leisure to devote to such learning. Lamoni must have been thinking the same thing, “But you have no Lamanite heritage.”
“None that I am aware of, Sire.”
“Perhaps you are a young man of nobility then, and you come to the Land of Ishmael to seek one of my daughters to wife. While I cannot say exactly why, I think such an alliance would very pleasing to me.”
Ammon was silent for a moment. The large hall was heavy with the waiting for his response. This too was cultural. While offering his daughter or daughter-to-be was a great honor to this foreigner, it also opened him up to bargaining with Lamoni. In an ancient practice taken from the old world, the father may exact any price he wanted in exchange for his daughter. Lamoni’s daughter was still a child, it would some years before she would be of an age to accept suitors. It would not be unusual for Lamoni to demand that Ammon act as his servant until she came of age or beyond. If Ammon accepted, he may as well sign his life away, but if he refused, then he may risk insulting a king. And while Ammon seemed to be weighing out this very thing, how could he possibly know of this tradition, mostly only observed by royalty?
Ammon looked around momentarily before he answered, and as he did he saw Abish for the first time. Her eyes locked on his and she couldn’t force herself to look away. She knew that it was only for an instant, that he had looked at many other people and things in the room, but his face was forever imprinted in her memory. Ammon finally spoke with low intensity, “You are a wealthy, powerful man, King Lamoni. With many riches and servants—no doubt your daughters are fair to look on and as noble as their father, but I did not come into this land to find a wife. I came to become your servant. Please allow me to serve your majesty in any capacity you see fit.”
The room was absolutely silent; Ammon’s words had trailed off to nearly a whisper and he held his head low. Abish exhaled her breath slowly. “Very well, Ammon. It is as you please. I will have you watch my sheep. It seems like it would be an easy job. I hope you find it so. Lemhah will show you where to go and what needs to be done.” He gestured again as he did so and his order was immediately followed. Lamoni’s tone had switched from one of intimacy, to one of coldness. Abish had seen this before—a slight change in tone or glance would show the subject had fallen out of favor with the king. Ammon, in a moment, had done just that; for watching the sheep was anything but easy.
Abish smiled slightly, “Your bidding has been to stay near you. If your ladyship has been bored, then I suppose I have been too.”
The queen likewise smiled, “You should have been a diplomat, dear; you have such a way of putting things." Abish continued brushing, and after a moment the queen followed up. “But you are right. I’m excessively bored. There is little that I can do these days save sit around and grow fat.”
“You look lovely.” Abish smiled at the queen’s wry face in the mirror as she twisted the back of her hair and pulled it up. Abish had never seen the queen wear her hair up until just a few weeks ago. The weather had been beastly hot again and the pregnancy made the queen uncomfortable. The reddish masses were not as striking when they were up, but the queen was indeed lovely. Pregnancy had given her a glow that even Lamoni seemed to notice. In her experience, men became less attentive and even absent as their wives’ bellies grew, but the king had been just the opposite. He constantly deferred to her and never failed to put out a hand to help his wife. Abish had always believed Lamoni to be more impressive than the king she was raised under, but as she watched the treatment of the queen these many months, she liked him more than ever.
“Well, both of us don’t have to be bored. I’m feeling well today. Why don’t you go down to my husband’s court this morning and watch for anything interesting? After lunch we can stroll through the back of the palace and you can tell me all the gossip.”
Abish smiled, knowing her appearance in Lamoni’s throne room that morning would only cause him to wonder if the queen was delivering, but also knowing that the queen would trust no one else to report the affairs of the kingdom honestly. She bowed slightly, “As your majesty wishes.”
She made her way down to the king’s council chamber, concentrating carefully so that no wrong turns were made. She had not been to this part of the palace in many, many months and the corridors could be very confusing. In her concentration, she nearly ran into Lemhah as she rounded a corner with her head down. She flushed darkly, bowing her head and apologizing.
“That is all right, Abish. Is it her time, yet?”
Keeping her eyes averted, she shook her head. At some level she knew that she was a valued part of this household, but the she was constantly aware of her designation as a slave. “No sir, the queen only desired that I listen in the king’s chamber this day to bring her news of the court.”
“Very well, then. I will precede you to the counsel chamber and inform the King of your intentions to observe his court this day.”
She fell behind him, walking slowly so that he would have time to deliver his message. In just moments she entered the noisy room. Courtiers loitered, discussing business of the day. There were very few women, and all of them slaves. They were court slaves, and she knew none of them directly. They wore sheer gowns, in contrast to the tunics of animal skins that many of the men wore. These men were not warriors, but wearing the skin of a leopard or a puma gave a man great standing among his companions. It was likely their slaves or servants had killed these animals as well as prepared the clothing, but such a thing was never discussed. The women walked among the noisy men like ghosts, although stray eyes and even hands often wandered to the diaphanous fabric and the bodies underneath. Abish knew the queen was vehemently opposed to these women and their presence in the king’s court, but while the queen would vent her criticism and even venture to disclose that she had spoken to her husband about it, she never went so far as to tell Abish what his response had been.
Abish listened with one ear to the commonplace comings and goings within Lamoni’s sphere of influence, but her thoughts were far away. She knew she should pay attention or miss hearing something that might interest the queen, but while she might report faithfully what she hear, it held little real interest for her. Her mind strayed, as it often did in recent weeks, to what might happen to her after the baby came. Her chance encounter with Lemhah had reminded her again that she was still a slave to this family, though her duties were light and her status was valuable. Their might be a chance to marry. She was not beautiful, but she wasn’t ugly. The queen had a large sheet of brass that had been hammered and polished until it shone brightly. If the light was good, a person could actually see their reflection in it. The queen had once offered to allow Abish to look into this great treasure. She was surprised that beyond the plainness there was something else, a fire and light in her eyes that made her appearance unique, maybe even striking. Her face reminded her of Armac’s, though her own was softer, more feminine. She would never have the delicate body or fine features of a Lamanite noblewoman, but she had something. In a rare personal comment the queen had even told her as much. Though she pretended to be oblivious as she did her work, there were sometimes stray glances her way. Yes, there might be a chance to marry.
As she thought about marriage to any of these men, she fought the urge to shudder. For all her confidence, she knew she was slightly afraid of men generally. The only thing that saddened her as much as the death of a mother or a baby was finding out the terrible particulars of the lives of some of the women she had helped. Terrible experience had shown her that all men were not as good and noble as her father had been. It was probably more accurate to say very few were like him. And for all her hard work, the slave-women in the inner court were a painful reminder that she was subject to any whim a man in the palace might have.
It was in the middle of this thought that she saw the Nephite for the first time. He was brought into the king by soldiers pushing their way to the front of the people still waiting audience with Lamoni. While guarded heavily, he didn’t seem to be struggling in any way. Although, thought Abish, he could have been struggling if he wanted to be. His tunic fully covered him from his shoulders to his knees, but his arms and legs were strong and lean. He appeared to be at total ease. He was nearly dark enough to be a Lamanite, but the tone of his skin was somehow different than Lamanite skin. His hair, rather than being black like nearly every person she had ever seen, was barely brown. His eyes also gave him away for what he was—clear, bright, blue and wide, soaking in everything around him. Abish, forgetting that she generally kept her eyes averted, stared openly. While the guards were explaining where they had found him, she found herself completely and fully mesmerized by his presence. There was light all around him, or so it seemed. She understood that he wasn’t exactly radiating, but there was something about him that drew her to him, the way plants grew toward the sun. In a flash she knew that marriage would not be the end of the world if there were men such as this in the world.
Lamoni was in the middle of asking Lemhah if anybody in the court spoke the language of the Nephites when the Nephite himself interrupted, “No translator is necessary, Your Highness, I can understand your words.” He bowed slightly, as he spoke, but Abish couldn’t help but think the bowing should have gone the other way. There was something royal about this foreigner. When he finished bowing, he smiled. It seemed to her that the whole room grew brighter.
The king, in spite of himself, seemed very pleased. A half-smile passed through his features, an expression she had sometimes seen when he was with the queen. “You are the first Nephite I have known to speak our language.”
“Have you known many Nephites?” The man’s tone was respectful, but surprisingly conversational.
“A few.”
“And what of them?”
“It is my pleasure what becomes of them, really.”
“You must be a very powerful king.” He bowed again.
“And you are a shocking flatterer, but there is something about you I like.” There was a pause as the king said this. He motioned a slave girl carrying a plate of fruit toward him. He began eating off the plate while he sized the man up. “So, Nephite, what is your desire? Did you just wander over from Zarahemla, getting lost in the jungle, or were you hoping to find warm reception here—to live among the Lamanites? Maybe right here in the Land of Ishmael?”
“I desire to dwell among this people for a time. Perhaps until the day I die. Which I hope, Your Majesty, is later rather than sooner.” There was an earnestness about him that made it impossible for Abish to take her eyes from him. He was indeed a flatterer, and he had a way with words, but she felt with her whole heart that each word was spoken with deep sincerity.
Lamoni motioned at his near guard, “Untie him.” The order was complied with immediately and the Nephite was unbound. “Now, perhaps we might get better acquainted. What is your name?”
“My name is Ammon, King Lamoni.”
“Ah, I see you already know my name.”
“A man would be a fool to travel so great a distance and not know the name of the one he had hoped to meet, or to learn anything of his customs.”
“I suppose that explains why you speak my language.”
“I learned it in the house of my father.”
Abish peered closely at him. In Lamanite lands, it was common to know more than one manner of speaking—their culture had been assembled from various others through generations, but she had thought the Nephites had only one language. Either Ammon had a Lamanite parent or he was a very important person to have had the leisure to devote to such learning. Lamoni must have been thinking the same thing, “But you have no Lamanite heritage.”
“None that I am aware of, Sire.”
“Perhaps you are a young man of nobility then, and you come to the Land of Ishmael to seek one of my daughters to wife. While I cannot say exactly why, I think such an alliance would very pleasing to me.”
Ammon was silent for a moment. The large hall was heavy with the waiting for his response. This too was cultural. While offering his daughter or daughter-to-be was a great honor to this foreigner, it also opened him up to bargaining with Lamoni. In an ancient practice taken from the old world, the father may exact any price he wanted in exchange for his daughter. Lamoni’s daughter was still a child, it would some years before she would be of an age to accept suitors. It would not be unusual for Lamoni to demand that Ammon act as his servant until she came of age or beyond. If Ammon accepted, he may as well sign his life away, but if he refused, then he may risk insulting a king. And while Ammon seemed to be weighing out this very thing, how could he possibly know of this tradition, mostly only observed by royalty?
Ammon looked around momentarily before he answered, and as he did he saw Abish for the first time. Her eyes locked on his and she couldn’t force herself to look away. She knew that it was only for an instant, that he had looked at many other people and things in the room, but his face was forever imprinted in her memory. Ammon finally spoke with low intensity, “You are a wealthy, powerful man, King Lamoni. With many riches and servants—no doubt your daughters are fair to look on and as noble as their father, but I did not come into this land to find a wife. I came to become your servant. Please allow me to serve your majesty in any capacity you see fit.”
The room was absolutely silent; Ammon’s words had trailed off to nearly a whisper and he held his head low. Abish exhaled her breath slowly. “Very well, Ammon. It is as you please. I will have you watch my sheep. It seems like it would be an easy job. I hope you find it so. Lemhah will show you where to go and what needs to be done.” He gestured again as he did so and his order was immediately followed. Lamoni’s tone had switched from one of intimacy, to one of coldness. Abish had seen this before—a slight change in tone or glance would show the subject had fallen out of favor with the king. Ammon, in a moment, had done just that; for watching the sheep was anything but easy.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Chapter 9: Separation
Ammon crouched low, carefully placing the round stone in the sling. The rabbit was oblivious to his presence. They were hungry, and some fresh meat would be a welcome addition to what had been a very meager diet. It had been a year since they had each, in turn, rejected the Nephite kingship and truly began their mission, but they had not attempted to preach in any major settlements. They had been to, and run out of, several small villages. They’d spoken more earnestly to a few farmers, but Ammon was of the opinion that these simple folk listened more out of fear than any real interest. It was understandable. Besides Ammon and his three brothers, there were six others. If Ammon had been a Lamanite farmer who looked out the window and saw ten suspicious foreigners walking up to the door then he would do whatever they asked too.
The rabbit’s ears perked slightly his direction, Ammon held his breath. As the rabbit relaxed and turned away again, Ammon saw his chance and whirled his slingshot quickly, expertly. Before the rabbit had time to react, it was dead. He was glad for the direct hit; he hated having to wring a neck. He also hated skinning game, but Omner was always willing.
As he jogged quickly back to their camp he contemplated the other continual problem of their large group—food. There was never enough. The only time they ate well was when the same fearful farmers who were willing to listen became generous. It was a gesture of extreme sacrifice: parts of this land had been in a drought for many, many years; everyone was suffering.
As far as Ammon knew, the Nephites and the Lamanites had always been at war. This land they traveled through now had been in Lamanite hands for generations. They were never certain of where they were headed, but they had recently gotten some helpful directions. Another day’s journey in a generally southern direction would put them on a road to some major Lamanite cities. Ammon felt strongly that it was time to try their faith. He knew they had been willing to hop around through these small settlements because there was an undercurrent of fear they seldom spoke about. Ammon felt his pulse quicken at the thought of entering a large Lamanite city. He supposed fear was part of it, but he knew that he was also looking forward to it.
Then disaster struck. Always the leader, Aaron fell sick first, but it eventually Himni also and two of their other companions grew feverish and unable to eat without throwing up. One of these men, the oldest in the group, was struck the hardest. Manri had been a very close friend of Alma’s. He felt so strongly about joining them that he’d actually left behind a wife and three teenaged children. His parting had probably been the most difficult; the rest of them had been young. Himni was only 15 when they’d left two years ago. Aaron had been married once, but his wife had died in childbirth when they were both very young. Indeed, it was her death that had turned Aaron so bitter against the church. Joining with Alma and Ammon had really been a part of his angry grieving.
After staying many days in a makeshift camp, and after many blessings, Aaron and the others began to feel better, except for Manri. He seemed to get worse and worse. It was a somber time in their small band. Little was said at night around their fire. Ammon wanted to have discussion about how to proceed, but Aaron seemed reluctant to enter a dialogue. When Himni was nearly better, Ammon decided the time for waiting was past. Despite Aaron’s reticence, Ammon began anyway. He cleared his throat. “We are too large of a group for the job we are trying to do. We look like enemy combatants rather than missionaries.”
Omner spoke up, “I too had thought about this. It is difficult to reach out to others when we appear so intimidating.”
Aaron countered, “I think we are safer in our large group.”
“Maybe it is time to take a chance, and shake off conventions about what we think is safe. Has not the Lord promised to protect us?” Ammon looked deep into his brother’s eyes across the low, warm fire that was burning.
“And how will the Lord protect us if we don’t use the wisdom he has blessed us with?” There was some murmured agreement around the fire, and then some low moaning from the bedroll where Manri lay. Himni quickly checked him, but he was unconscious, incoherent. They all kept looking for a sign that he wanted to communicate with them, but there was nothing.
Ammon spoke again, “And there is the matter of Manri. . .”
“When he’s better we’ll all go together.” Aaron said forcefully.
Himni spoke quietly, “Oh, Aaron, he is not going to get better.” There was a long silence. Himni didn’t often speak in the group, being the youngest. When he did speak however, Ammon noted the way the others heeded his careful words. Of his three brothers, Himni was the one who most resembled him. Neither of them was as tall as Omner or Aaron, but Ammon and Himni were both broad through the shoulders. His hair and skin were just a shade paler than Ammon’s, and his features were fine, just as their mother’s had been. Ammon and Himni looked as if they had been poured from the same mold, save one thing: Himni’s eyes. While Ammon’s were clear and blue, Himni’s changed with his mood and clothing. Also, one was more brown and the other more green, yet there were times, when he was especially pensive, that they seemed almost blue, though slightly different shades. The color difference wasn’t dramatic, but if he looked at you very directly, you had a sense that something was out of place. Ammon was naturally used to this oddity, but he laughed inwardly at how badly it threw strangers off when Himni looked at them. Because of this, Himni didn’t often look at people directly. He had a habit of looking at them sideways from under his too-long hair, as if he were shy.
Himni’s comment about Manri’s sickness finally voiced what everyone had known deep down, and even Aaron didn’t dare dispute the truth of it, “Then we will bury him together, as his brethren, and move on.”
Ammon was unwilling to let it drop so easily. “I could stay with him, some or all of you could go on. If it is the Lord’s will that I should have a companion then he will survive, otherwise I will proceed alone to the Land of Ishmael.”
Once the words had been said and were out in the open, there was no taking them back, but the stir they caused was evident. “You’ve been thinking about this for some time, brother.” Aaron’s words were not a question.
“I have.”
There was silence for several minutes around the campfire except for the occasional low mown from Manri. Aaron finally replied, “I think it is not wise.”
Ammon shifted slightly and opened his mouth to reply when Himni spoke again, his eyes slightly averted from the circle, “Brethren, I believe we need to fast to gain wisdom. We came on the Lord’s errand; we are entitled to His help. My brothers both make good points, but the Lord would not have us argue,” he looked at Ammon as he said this last statement and then shifted his gaze to Aaron as he finished, “nor would he have us set ourselves up over one another.”
Omner answered, “It is a good idea. I will join in your fast.”
Ammon, Aaron and the others all murmured assent. The next day was spent in fasting and prayer. Ammon pled with the Lord to soften his heart so that he might know the right thing. It was difficult for him to humble himself because the thing he wanted to do had been in his head for many, many days.
Ammon had gone into the woods, alone. As he found himself deep in meditation and prayer, the words came softly and slowly to his heart, “There is one who prays for you in the land of Ishmael.”
He looked up and around quickly. The words had been so plain that he believed himself not to be alone. As he knelt again, the words repeated with an added directive, “There is one who prays for you in the land of Ishmael; you must go alone.” The command startled Ammon. He finished his prayer and ran back through the woods toward camp. When he arrived, Omner met him, “Manri is dead.” Ammon’s eyes filled with tears at his brother’s words. Omner showed little sign of grieving, but Ammon knew that it was his way. He would not spend his grief on tears—his sorrow would spur him to action. No doubt he would be the first to volunteer to dig the hole for his body, or whatever other task could be done. Omner ran his hands through his thick, black hair, Ammon could see that he was impatient for a task that would keep his mind and body occupied.
The nine remaining missionaries took turns in the waning afternoon heat, digging out a shallow grave with sticks and gourds. Prayers were said, commending his valiant soul to the heavens. The men were silent around the campfire that night, the sting of death heavy on them. It was time for them to have a discussion of how to proceed and to share their knowledge gained during the day’s fast, but there was reluctance to do so. Aaron was noticeably absent from the group, sitting far away, his back to the fire. Ammon joined him. “Manri’s death is a great loss.” He began.
Aaron was more agitated than Ammon had seen him in a long time. He dug angrily with his stick in the dirt before him. “We were promised protection.”
Ammon was quiet, unsure what to say, but still feeling something like anger well up inside him. He strove to bite back the words at the surface, thinking that it would be better if Himni or Omner were the one to speak to Aaron right now. But Aaron wouldn’t take his silence, “Weren’t we promised?”
Ammon took a big breath to keep his tone calm, “No, we weren’t.”
“Yes we were! You were there the day father told us that he would give us leave to go.”
“I was. But you are forgetting the promise.”
“Oh?” Aaron’s tone was testy.
“Our father was promised that his sons would be delivered from the Lamanites. Manri was given no promises. Nor do we know what deliverance means. Suffering death at the hands of the Lamanites to go and dwell with God forever is a type of deliverance.”
“This mission is not what I had in mind.”
“Nor I. I feel like we have wasted two years because we’ve been afraid.”
“Is that what you want? For me to admit it? All right! I will say it! I am afraid. Terrified. Today we fasted and I felt nothing, no impressions, just this overwhelming fear that we are traveling deeper and deeper into enemy lands. When we buried Manri today I thought I saw the face of each of my brothers lying in that grave.”
“Shhh. . . Do you want the others to hear?”
“I don’t care if they do. I’m discouraged and ready to turn back.”
Ammon forcefully grabbed his brother by the shoulders. He hissed the words in anger, “Don’t you dare say it. These men, our brothers, have looked to you in every way. They know the promise of eternal life given to us by the Lord through our father. They know there is success waiting for them. That is the real promise we have been given. They can speak the language of this land better than the Lamanites themselves and they want a leader who will take them, with courage, into the enemy’s heart and soften it.”
His brother hung his head, “Then you will have to be their leader, Ammon.”
“No. I cannot.”
“You are the eldest. They can look to you as easily as me.”
“No, Aaron. I have been given another commandment.”
“The Lord has spoken to you?”
“I am to go to the land of Ishmael, alone.”
“Alone?”
“Someone there prays for me to come.”
“What will we do without you?” Aaron looked truly stricken. Ammon had never seen him at such a loss for confidence.
He held Aaron’s arms tightly and looked deep in his eyes. “You will depend on the Lord. You will remember the second chance given to you on the road Zeraph. You will open your mouth and spread that good news. Nothing these Lamanites can do to you is worse than the memory of Hell’s gaping abyss. You will show by your every action that you want the eternal life that has been promised to the faithful. You will be an example to our brothers, the way you always have been.”
Aaron’s eyes broke from Ammon’s intensity and he began to cry as he dropped his head. Never in all their lives together had he seen Aaron show such emotion. Even on the day of his wife’s death, it was nothing like this. He put his arm around his brother and whispered, “The Lord will help your unbelief. You must learn to rely on Him.”
Aaron’s hot, noisy tears quieted slowly as he embraced Ammon. “Thank you, brother. We will go our separate ways tomorrow. Will you give us each a blessing before we go?”
“Of course.”
A counsel was held that night, but when the remaining seven saw Ammon and Aaron’s unity, they were in full agreement. The brethren trickled off to bed, their hearts heavy with anticipation. Ammon stayed awake a long time, staring into the flames, pondering the events of the past two years. He knew he should sleep, tomorrow would be a long, wary day, but he was too full of emotion for rest.
His youngest brother found him this way many hours later when he awoke. He moved to sit by the dying embers of the fire next to Ammon. “It is late, brother.”
“You should be in bed, Himni.” Ammon said with a grin.
“That is what I meant. But I wouldn’t presume to tell my older brother what to do.” Himni grinned too, just to show that he was teasing.
Little was said, but Himni kept watch with his brother through the rest of the night. Ammon knew that it is this sibling he would miss the most. For all his inexperience and youthfulness, Ammon had long believed that Himni represented what was best in all four of them. Their mother had died just days after Himni’s birth and the three brothers had been intensely protective of him ever since they saw how tiny and helpless he was. The prayer in his heart that night was that Aaron would take care of this youngest brother in the way Ammon always had. He did not put these thoughts into words, but somehow he knew that Himni understood.
The rabbit’s ears perked slightly his direction, Ammon held his breath. As the rabbit relaxed and turned away again, Ammon saw his chance and whirled his slingshot quickly, expertly. Before the rabbit had time to react, it was dead. He was glad for the direct hit; he hated having to wring a neck. He also hated skinning game, but Omner was always willing.
As he jogged quickly back to their camp he contemplated the other continual problem of their large group—food. There was never enough. The only time they ate well was when the same fearful farmers who were willing to listen became generous. It was a gesture of extreme sacrifice: parts of this land had been in a drought for many, many years; everyone was suffering.
As far as Ammon knew, the Nephites and the Lamanites had always been at war. This land they traveled through now had been in Lamanite hands for generations. They were never certain of where they were headed, but they had recently gotten some helpful directions. Another day’s journey in a generally southern direction would put them on a road to some major Lamanite cities. Ammon felt strongly that it was time to try their faith. He knew they had been willing to hop around through these small settlements because there was an undercurrent of fear they seldom spoke about. Ammon felt his pulse quicken at the thought of entering a large Lamanite city. He supposed fear was part of it, but he knew that he was also looking forward to it.
Then disaster struck. Always the leader, Aaron fell sick first, but it eventually Himni also and two of their other companions grew feverish and unable to eat without throwing up. One of these men, the oldest in the group, was struck the hardest. Manri had been a very close friend of Alma’s. He felt so strongly about joining them that he’d actually left behind a wife and three teenaged children. His parting had probably been the most difficult; the rest of them had been young. Himni was only 15 when they’d left two years ago. Aaron had been married once, but his wife had died in childbirth when they were both very young. Indeed, it was her death that had turned Aaron so bitter against the church. Joining with Alma and Ammon had really been a part of his angry grieving.
After staying many days in a makeshift camp, and after many blessings, Aaron and the others began to feel better, except for Manri. He seemed to get worse and worse. It was a somber time in their small band. Little was said at night around their fire. Ammon wanted to have discussion about how to proceed, but Aaron seemed reluctant to enter a dialogue. When Himni was nearly better, Ammon decided the time for waiting was past. Despite Aaron’s reticence, Ammon began anyway. He cleared his throat. “We are too large of a group for the job we are trying to do. We look like enemy combatants rather than missionaries.”
Omner spoke up, “I too had thought about this. It is difficult to reach out to others when we appear so intimidating.”
Aaron countered, “I think we are safer in our large group.”
“Maybe it is time to take a chance, and shake off conventions about what we think is safe. Has not the Lord promised to protect us?” Ammon looked deep into his brother’s eyes across the low, warm fire that was burning.
“And how will the Lord protect us if we don’t use the wisdom he has blessed us with?” There was some murmured agreement around the fire, and then some low moaning from the bedroll where Manri lay. Himni quickly checked him, but he was unconscious, incoherent. They all kept looking for a sign that he wanted to communicate with them, but there was nothing.
Ammon spoke again, “And there is the matter of Manri. . .”
“When he’s better we’ll all go together.” Aaron said forcefully.
Himni spoke quietly, “Oh, Aaron, he is not going to get better.” There was a long silence. Himni didn’t often speak in the group, being the youngest. When he did speak however, Ammon noted the way the others heeded his careful words. Of his three brothers, Himni was the one who most resembled him. Neither of them was as tall as Omner or Aaron, but Ammon and Himni were both broad through the shoulders. His hair and skin were just a shade paler than Ammon’s, and his features were fine, just as their mother’s had been. Ammon and Himni looked as if they had been poured from the same mold, save one thing: Himni’s eyes. While Ammon’s were clear and blue, Himni’s changed with his mood and clothing. Also, one was more brown and the other more green, yet there were times, when he was especially pensive, that they seemed almost blue, though slightly different shades. The color difference wasn’t dramatic, but if he looked at you very directly, you had a sense that something was out of place. Ammon was naturally used to this oddity, but he laughed inwardly at how badly it threw strangers off when Himni looked at them. Because of this, Himni didn’t often look at people directly. He had a habit of looking at them sideways from under his too-long hair, as if he were shy.
Himni’s comment about Manri’s sickness finally voiced what everyone had known deep down, and even Aaron didn’t dare dispute the truth of it, “Then we will bury him together, as his brethren, and move on.”
Ammon was unwilling to let it drop so easily. “I could stay with him, some or all of you could go on. If it is the Lord’s will that I should have a companion then he will survive, otherwise I will proceed alone to the Land of Ishmael.”
Once the words had been said and were out in the open, there was no taking them back, but the stir they caused was evident. “You’ve been thinking about this for some time, brother.” Aaron’s words were not a question.
“I have.”
There was silence for several minutes around the campfire except for the occasional low mown from Manri. Aaron finally replied, “I think it is not wise.”
Ammon shifted slightly and opened his mouth to reply when Himni spoke again, his eyes slightly averted from the circle, “Brethren, I believe we need to fast to gain wisdom. We came on the Lord’s errand; we are entitled to His help. My brothers both make good points, but the Lord would not have us argue,” he looked at Ammon as he said this last statement and then shifted his gaze to Aaron as he finished, “nor would he have us set ourselves up over one another.”
Omner answered, “It is a good idea. I will join in your fast.”
Ammon, Aaron and the others all murmured assent. The next day was spent in fasting and prayer. Ammon pled with the Lord to soften his heart so that he might know the right thing. It was difficult for him to humble himself because the thing he wanted to do had been in his head for many, many days.
Ammon had gone into the woods, alone. As he found himself deep in meditation and prayer, the words came softly and slowly to his heart, “There is one who prays for you in the land of Ishmael.”
He looked up and around quickly. The words had been so plain that he believed himself not to be alone. As he knelt again, the words repeated with an added directive, “There is one who prays for you in the land of Ishmael; you must go alone.” The command startled Ammon. He finished his prayer and ran back through the woods toward camp. When he arrived, Omner met him, “Manri is dead.” Ammon’s eyes filled with tears at his brother’s words. Omner showed little sign of grieving, but Ammon knew that it was his way. He would not spend his grief on tears—his sorrow would spur him to action. No doubt he would be the first to volunteer to dig the hole for his body, or whatever other task could be done. Omner ran his hands through his thick, black hair, Ammon could see that he was impatient for a task that would keep his mind and body occupied.
The nine remaining missionaries took turns in the waning afternoon heat, digging out a shallow grave with sticks and gourds. Prayers were said, commending his valiant soul to the heavens. The men were silent around the campfire that night, the sting of death heavy on them. It was time for them to have a discussion of how to proceed and to share their knowledge gained during the day’s fast, but there was reluctance to do so. Aaron was noticeably absent from the group, sitting far away, his back to the fire. Ammon joined him. “Manri’s death is a great loss.” He began.
Aaron was more agitated than Ammon had seen him in a long time. He dug angrily with his stick in the dirt before him. “We were promised protection.”
Ammon was quiet, unsure what to say, but still feeling something like anger well up inside him. He strove to bite back the words at the surface, thinking that it would be better if Himni or Omner were the one to speak to Aaron right now. But Aaron wouldn’t take his silence, “Weren’t we promised?”
Ammon took a big breath to keep his tone calm, “No, we weren’t.”
“Yes we were! You were there the day father told us that he would give us leave to go.”
“I was. But you are forgetting the promise.”
“Oh?” Aaron’s tone was testy.
“Our father was promised that his sons would be delivered from the Lamanites. Manri was given no promises. Nor do we know what deliverance means. Suffering death at the hands of the Lamanites to go and dwell with God forever is a type of deliverance.”
“This mission is not what I had in mind.”
“Nor I. I feel like we have wasted two years because we’ve been afraid.”
“Is that what you want? For me to admit it? All right! I will say it! I am afraid. Terrified. Today we fasted and I felt nothing, no impressions, just this overwhelming fear that we are traveling deeper and deeper into enemy lands. When we buried Manri today I thought I saw the face of each of my brothers lying in that grave.”
“Shhh. . . Do you want the others to hear?”
“I don’t care if they do. I’m discouraged and ready to turn back.”
Ammon forcefully grabbed his brother by the shoulders. He hissed the words in anger, “Don’t you dare say it. These men, our brothers, have looked to you in every way. They know the promise of eternal life given to us by the Lord through our father. They know there is success waiting for them. That is the real promise we have been given. They can speak the language of this land better than the Lamanites themselves and they want a leader who will take them, with courage, into the enemy’s heart and soften it.”
His brother hung his head, “Then you will have to be their leader, Ammon.”
“No. I cannot.”
“You are the eldest. They can look to you as easily as me.”
“No, Aaron. I have been given another commandment.”
“The Lord has spoken to you?”
“I am to go to the land of Ishmael, alone.”
“Alone?”
“Someone there prays for me to come.”
“What will we do without you?” Aaron looked truly stricken. Ammon had never seen him at such a loss for confidence.
He held Aaron’s arms tightly and looked deep in his eyes. “You will depend on the Lord. You will remember the second chance given to you on the road Zeraph. You will open your mouth and spread that good news. Nothing these Lamanites can do to you is worse than the memory of Hell’s gaping abyss. You will show by your every action that you want the eternal life that has been promised to the faithful. You will be an example to our brothers, the way you always have been.”
Aaron’s eyes broke from Ammon’s intensity and he began to cry as he dropped his head. Never in all their lives together had he seen Aaron show such emotion. Even on the day of his wife’s death, it was nothing like this. He put his arm around his brother and whispered, “The Lord will help your unbelief. You must learn to rely on Him.”
Aaron’s hot, noisy tears quieted slowly as he embraced Ammon. “Thank you, brother. We will go our separate ways tomorrow. Will you give us each a blessing before we go?”
“Of course.”
A counsel was held that night, but when the remaining seven saw Ammon and Aaron’s unity, they were in full agreement. The brethren trickled off to bed, their hearts heavy with anticipation. Ammon stayed awake a long time, staring into the flames, pondering the events of the past two years. He knew he should sleep, tomorrow would be a long, wary day, but he was too full of emotion for rest.
His youngest brother found him this way many hours later when he awoke. He moved to sit by the dying embers of the fire next to Ammon. “It is late, brother.”
“You should be in bed, Himni.” Ammon said with a grin.
“That is what I meant. But I wouldn’t presume to tell my older brother what to do.” Himni grinned too, just to show that he was teasing.
Little was said, but Himni kept watch with his brother through the rest of the night. Ammon knew that it is this sibling he would miss the most. For all his inexperience and youthfulness, Ammon had long believed that Himni represented what was best in all four of them. Their mother had died just days after Himni’s birth and the three brothers had been intensely protective of him ever since they saw how tiny and helpless he was. The prayer in his heart that night was that Aaron would take care of this youngest brother in the way Ammon always had. He did not put these thoughts into words, but somehow he knew that Himni understood.
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