“Why not look into your interpreter stones for this knowledge?” asked Boaz.
“They work through the spirit of the Lord, and they answer things for me that I, as a man, cannot get an answer for myself. Some things the Lord has us figure out ourselves, and this is one of those,” said Onandagus, watching their eyes.
Everyone seemed to accept that, except Boaz. His face showed questions, but he said, “I do not fully understand that, but I will do as you have asked.”
“Good, then here is what I will have you all do.” He pulled out a big map of all the lands on this side of the world. “Here is the main road from Gideon and Manti. I do not believe they will take this route, as it is too exposed all the way from the Narrow Pass. You could not hope to move even the swiftest of horses through here unseen. Nor do I believe they will come up the Sidon River—the Lamanites are too superstitious a people to travel on water if they can possibly help it. In any case, I do have good people watching the river from below Bountiful.”
With ink and a quill, he traced out ten different routes through woods and hills across the map denoting the hundreds of miles his captains would soon enough be traveling. “These are the ten routes you will be leading your squads of ten through. It matters little to me which route each of you take, though I know some of you will have particular specialties. Tobron, I am sure you would like the route to the southwest of Manti where your mother’s people live. Amaron, you know the edge of the Hermounts wilderness better than anyone I know. Do you wish to accept that?”
Amaron nodded.
“Good. These others can be divided however it pleases the rest of you. If it comes to battle, do what you can and no more. I believe they will have an army of thousands, so ten men are futile for combat. Gather intelligence and get away, do not endanger your lives. I will not dally words any longer... is this acceptable?”
“Yea!” came the unanimous reply.
“How did you come by this information?” asked Tobron.
“We have a Gadianton that turned for us, who supplied most of it,” said Onandagus.
“What if it’s just a Lamanite twist? You trust him?” asked Boaz, incredulous.
“Yes, I do. Don’t you agree, Amaron?”
“Yea,” Amaron shrugged.
“I want you all to get your affairs in order and be ready to leave within three days. Tell your men that their families can get food and essentials from my personal stores to help care for them while they are away. This is to be a secret mission, so please take care on who you ask to do this. Everyone will know soon enough, but it could draw undue Gadianton attention if too many are talking. God be with you all.” He looked upon them, a thousand unspoken hopes in his eyes. “One more thing…. my eldest daughter, Bethia has run away, if any of you should hear anything or find her…. please, be aware,” he pleaded. “Now you may go. Amaron, wait a moment.”
After everyone left, Amaron asked, “When did your daughter run away?”
“Yesterday. No one has seen her, no one has any idea. Even Samson, who is usually so good at finding gossip in the streets, has found nothing,” said Onandagus. “So far, the prayers of my wife and I have not been answered, but I have faith. I know Bethia will be found. I know God will protect her and watch over her.”
“I will do what I can to help. Why did you wish me to stay behind?”
“Because you need only find nine other men. I have your tenth.”
“Who is it?” Amaron asked, puzzled and a little relieved, not sure where he could find ten good men to take with him. Most would not want to leave their families or their crops during the early season.
“I would have you take Ezra with you,” he said, watching Amaron closely.
“The Gadianton? He could endanger the mission. What if he has lied to us about some of these things?”
“He has not, I know it absolutely. The interpreter stones do not lie. He is a reformed Gadianton who needs a good strong example.”
“Why me then?”
“You have a strong, true heart of the Gospel, a rare enough thing in these days. Am I wrong? Think of your dead brother Seantum coming to you and your faith in prayer.”
“You’re right, my prayers of faith have always been answered. Perhaps not always the way I wanted, but they were answered. I cannot deny that, not ever. Visited by my brother, Seantum, he an angel and I, a child, but still... yes. I know what I know is true.”
“Ezra likes you, and he will need protection for a time. You are the most capable man I have. He may also have more useful information to give.” He smiled gravely.
Nodding to the man he most respected next to his father, Amaron turned and left. He did not like the weaselly Ezra, even if he was reformed.
Ezra waited outside Onandagus’s office for the burly scout. He wore an ugly blue turban and was doing a poor job of trying to grow a beard.
“That’s a terrible disguise,” Amaron laughed.
“So did Onandagus—?”
“Yes, you will come with me. But I warn you... no tricks!” he growled, pointing a finger at the skinny man.
“I swear by Isis that—”
Amaron cut him off again. “I want no oath by you, just do as you’re told,” he shouted.
Ezra fell in behind as they left the judgment hall.
Does He See Me
The caravan set up its mobile shops in Gideon and stayed for two days. All the while Bethia feared that someone would spot her and drag her back to Zarahemla and her father. But nothing came of these fears. Strangely, here only a day’s ride away, no one seemed to recognize her at all. That took some getting used to.
The older woman, Keturah, enjoyed telling the new girl what to do all the time, no matter how pointless or silly.
“Tell those men how much their wives or girlfriends will love these perfumes,” she would tell Bethia any time a man passed. “Speak with your hands, always drawing them back to yourself like so, as if beckoning while you speak. Trust me it works.”
“They do not even look interested,” Bethia protested.
“They will be if you smile big like you do at Rezon, and we will have a sale.” Though Bethia felt foolish at first, Keturah was right and it worked rather well.
By the end of the second day, Rezon counted their take and said, “Here in little Gideon we have made more with Bethia than we did in Zarahemla for a week.” The caravan owner was pleased, and she wanted to please him.
Bethia was afraid that her success might make Keturah jealous, but had she not pushed her to flirt and make the sales? As it turned out, Keturah was not the least bit jealous and they soon became fast friends.
Talking along the road to Manti, the trip seemed to take only hours instead of a good full day. “My second husband was a Zoramite, can you believe it? Let me tell you, everything you have ever heard about them is true,” said Keturah, as they passed a man going the opposite direction.
“I have never heard anything about them,” said Bethia. “I wouldn’t even recognize one.”
“That was one, just now,” said Keturah, pointing. “They are pigs, it’s in their blood, I swear. We were married only a month, and he was gone, out chasing harlots.”
“A month? Shouldn’t marriage be eternal?”
“Eternal? You are so naive, Bethia, that’s why I love you. Eternal, ha! I suppose if men could be trusted it might be eternal.”
“I trust Rezon,” said Bethia, dreamily.
“Yes, I suppose so, because he is of a different breed, as my father used to say. Rezon can be trusted, but for all the wrong reasons.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, you know. Let’s just say he is no Zoramite, that’s for sure.”
“No, he isn’t, is he? He is true as the wheeling stars.”
Keturah laughed. “You are so funny. You remind me of my third husband’s little sister. She was from Helam, and you never saw such a sweet naive girl.”
Bethia wasn’t listening anymore, she watched R
ezon as he moved up and down the caravan while it rolled along. Always making sure that everyone was well, and the oxen were in good shape, that the wagons’ axles were performing, that all in his caravan were happy. She liked that about him—he always smiled and wanted everyone to be happy. When they stopped for an afternoon lunch and to let the oxen rest, she waited for a moment to be alone with him.
When she saw him carrying two large wooden pails from the creek, she hurried to his side.
“Hello Bethia, how are you this fine afternoon?”
“I am well. May I help you?”
“I have it. Besides, they are heavy.”
“I can do it.” She took one of the pails from him. She struggled, as they were heavier than she had thought. He smiled and let her carry it. She smiled back and asked, “Where are we taking these?”
“Peter’s oxen need the water, and he has an injured foot. One of the oxen stepped on it.”
“That’s too bad.” She realized she was still smiling at him during the discussion of another man’s pain. She blushed and wiped the smile from her face.
“He is alright,” Rezon assured her, and she smiled again.
“Do you believe in fate?” she asked.
“I suppose I do, why?”
“My father doesn’t, but I think I do.”
“We are ready to move again now, so I must hurry. I will talk to you later,” he said, taking the pail from her. She watched him, so strong and handsome, as he carried the water to Peter’s oxen.
Back at her own wagon, she asked Keturah, “Does he see me?”
“Of course, he sees you, what kind of question is that? ‘Does he see me’?” mocked Keturah. “Trust me, he sees you. But he is too much like my first husband.”
“What do you mean? Too wonderful?”
Keturah laughed. “Oh, he was wonderful alright. He just didn’t love me.”
“I don’t think Rezon is like that. He is sincere.”
“Yea, Rezon is who he is. No denying that,” said Keturah. “But you can’t teach a hammer to love nails.”
Bethia didn’t understand that but no longer cared. She watched Rezon on horseback, riding up and down the caravan again.
“We’ll be in Manti before you know it,” he said to her, smiling as he rode past.
She cooed and looked after him and stuck her head off the side of the wagon to watch him ride down the line. Keturah laughed again.
Bethia enjoyed setting up the tables and booths for the early morning markets in Manti. There was always time to talk to Rezon and visit the other booths as well. How she began to love the smell of his pipe smoke. She used to detest smokers. But even with its odd shape, Rezon’s pipe soon became a thing of enjoyment to her every morning. The tobacco and cedar chips became a fragrant staple.
This was fast becoming a life she wanted to go on forever. Someday soon, Rezon would notice what a woman she was, and they could be together forever. She told Keturah about her hopes for him, but the seasoned woman would just laugh and say something about cats and dogs not being able to live together.
What does she know of love? She has never had true love. Not like my parents. They must be worried sick, but this is how it must be. I must find my own way. Keturah means well, but she laughs. She doesn’t understand love anymore, she is too old. A good thirty-five summers at the least. Still she is a good partner for dress shopping, and how can you know what life is like without a good partner for dress shopping?
“Come along, Bethia. If we want Rezon to notice you, you had better get brighter colors. Lots of women have fallen for him, and he doesn’t notice the same things you do.”
“I am not just anyone,” Bethia cut her off. “I am special. He will see that soon enough.”
“Alright, you will find your own way,” laughed Keturah.
The Bride of Darkness
Deep within an underground passage a woman’s scorn was heaped upon Judge Hiram. “You told me those dagger men were the best! Bah! One Nephite warrior killed ten of them in one night.”
Hiram frowned. He was not used to anyone, let alone a mere woman, shouting at him. If this disrespect were in his courtroom, he would have had the perpetrator gagged and flogged. In his hidden dungeon, such a person would not come out alive. But this antagonist was no ordinary woman. It was Lilith, wife of Akish-Antum. Beautiful, pale of face with straight black hair and close-cropped bangs, she was absolutely enchanting—until she spoke. Her throaty voice had a contemptuous and malevolent air. Her green eyes shone with an evil, fiery light.
Calming himself, Hiram responded, “I was told by Teth-Senkhet that they were the best.”
“What is best in Kish-Kumen obviously is not in Zarahemla,” she laughed without mirth. “What? Have you no more dagger men to spare now?”
“I have men out looking for the traitor... they will find and kill him.”
“Fool! What’s the point now? He has told the chief judge everything he knows. Which I hope for your sake wasn’t much. One way or another Akish-Antum always gets what he wants.”
“For the sake of the oath, the traitor must be killed. If you were a member of the Order you would know that,” he said, through gritted yellow teeth.
She stared daggers at him before answering in a violent shriek. “I know more of the blackest of secrets than you could possibly hope to understand! I am the hand maiden of Satan and the bride of darkness!”
Her giant black Nubian servant entered the room. He was near eight feet tall and rippling in muscle. Naked save for a breech cloth and an Egyptian style headdress, his oiled skin glistened. Mute, he held aloft a great, wide-bladed scimitar and grinned wickedly at Hiram.
“No, Taharka, not this time. The master wants him to remain in place.” She turned to Hiram in disdain. “I should have had my own servant dispatch your guardsmen here. Then we would not be in this mess.”
He tried to change the subject. “Perhaps we should move to kill Onandagus now, before anything else can be thwarted.”
“You fool! I already told you. Akish-Antum wants to slay Onandagus himself... it’s personal. He used to study under him or some such nonsense. No one shall take that away from him. If you try, I will kill you.” She stared hard at him until he looked away. She threw a long, needle-like stiletto knife into the wall beside him. It quivered in the wall as he stared at it in horror. She smiled and shrugged her shoulders. “After all, what is a good wife for?” She laughed her awful, mirthless laugh.
“Yes, Mistress Zoreah,” he whispered, with a deep contempt.
“Aw, aw, aw,” she scolded, waving her long red-nailed finger at him. Taharka grinned absurdly, like a fool. “Not Zoreah, not here. Here, while I am in these lands, you shall call me Lilith.”
“Yes, Mistress Lilith,” he said through clenched teeth, planning on how he would one day destroy her.
“Thank you. So, if I were Onandagus what would I do now? Knowing just a hint of what the enemy is doing, thanks to a traitor.” She sat still a moment and pondered.
Hiram watched expectantly, about to speak.
She shouted, “Shut your mouth, fool. I don’t want to hear your ideas. They all fail.”
He froze, mouth agape and his finger in the air, about to gesture his thoughts. Working to regain his lost composure and dignity, Hiram pointed out the obvious. “Mistress Lilith, the dagger men were your idea first.”
“But not to fail! That was your doing. You should have given me more of them, knowing the big warrior would be too much for them. Why isn’t such a man one of ours? And where is my drink? Get me some more wine!” She threw her goblet at him. Taharka looked on amused.
Hiram hurried out the door and remarked to Judge Pachus, who waited outside, “She is deranged, absolutely deranged. Why is she here? Her insane tantrums will only cause problems.”
“Careful, master. I heard of others who spoke ill of her. She had them skinned alive.”
“I am the regional Gadianton master. I should be subservient only to Akish
-Antum himself and his deputy Teth-Senkhet, not his insane wife who models herself after the screech owl of doom.”
The door swung open. “Where is my wine?” she asked, eyes burning. She held out her goblet, and Hiram took hold of it as Pachus poured.
Hiram handed her the deep purple liquid. “Here you are, Mistress Lilith.”
She drained the cup. “Someone needs to get to the bottom of these troubles. I am going out to the streets to find out what I may. Don’t go losing the empire while I am away.” She laughed as she and the huge black bodyguard walked away.
Travelers on the Road of Fate
Across the city, Amaron and Ezra had recruited three men for the mission. Even with the promise of provisions and food from Onandagus’s storehouse, this was not enough to convince many to join in a dangerous three-month journey.
“It is still planting time. We must work hard now, otherwise my family will starve come winter,” spoke the latest of several men they approached.
“Please, Jeremiah, if we do not succeed in our task at hand there may not be a harvest,” said Amaron.
“No, there may not be a chief judge and governor, is all. The king men still walk the streets and proclaim a change is soon at hand. They have asked me if I would support a king if one should arise.”
“What did you say? I thought you a patriot.”
“Ha, I told them I deserved to be king as much as anyone. Grandfather claims we go all the way back to the little king, Mulek. So, I ought to be king as much as anyone.” Jeremiah laughed.
“Maybe you do not understand that if the king men take over, you will lose all your rights, your fields, and your home. Maybe even your life.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“No, we are old friends. I am talking about what the king men would do.”
“Hmmm, you say if I go with you that my family will be given food and provisions while I am away?” asked Jeremiah.
“Yes, they will be taken care of, as well as compensation for lost crops.”
“Will this venture be profitable?”
Heroes of the Fallen Page 7