By the time he reached the door to the fourth floor, the bishop was in quite a temper. He opened the small door and climbed the narrow, curving steps. The fourth floor was used for mostly storage. It was somewhat unfinished and smelled of old books and dry air. There were stacks and stacks of old ledgers. There was no reason for Larissa to be up there.
He was about to return to the floors below when a pristine swatch of white caught his eye. He walked toward the back of the house, mindful of the low peaks and dormer windows that cramped the space. He ducked and pushed a large chest out of the way.
There, in front of a tiny attic window, sitting in a patch of moonlight, was his sleeping beauty. She looked so childlike, her legs curled under her skirts and her braids ragged from their journey. Her pale face rested on her arms curled about the sill. Her eyes looked irritated and swollen and Eleazar knew she had been crying. His anger seemed to dissolve.
Not wishing to disturb her, he carefully reached down and scooped her into his arms. She mumbled something he couldn’t make out and snuggled close to his chest. There was a thump as he adjusted her legs.
Eleazar looked to the wood floor and saw a tome. It was one of the council ledgers. He carefully leaned down and picked it up. Holding Larissa’s sleeping form firmly in his arms, he flipped the ledger over and read the date inscribed on the spine. It was only from last year. He frowned. What would she want with such a book? They were filled with nothing but tedious accounts of council business, something Larissa should not be involving herself with.
He turned the ledger over and the spine fanned open. He noticed a section had been ripped out. He frowned. It was against the law to tamper with Order records. He shook his head and placed the book on the chest. Carefully he carried Larissa down the winding stairwell and back to his bedroom.
She did not stir the entire time Eleazar held her. When he reached his room, he carefully pulled his quilt back and lowered her to the bed. Her face turned toward the pillow and she sighed. It would have pleased him to see her so at home in his bed, but the sigh that left her lips was not a contented one. It was a sigh that stuttered out of her as if her body was still suffering the effects of her tears.
Eleazar went to remove her shoes and smirked when he saw that she still wore none. Her little, dirty feet were still beautiful, he thought. He also thought it was a good thing their kind did not catch colds or she would surely be sick all the time for how often she walked about with her feet uncovered.
He carefully lifted her shoulders and untied the back of her apron. Deciding he should first unbraid her hair, he sat beside her and went to the task. He had never taken out a female’s hair before. He was shocked to realize females used actual straight pins, the same used for sewing, to secure their braids. He unraveled her soft, ebony locks, one by one, until her hair shined under the moonlight spilling from the window like a waving river upon his pillow.
He slid her arms out of her apron and carefully pulled the garment away from her body. As he folded it gently, he felt something in the front pocket. Feeling around for the opening, he pulled out a crumpled bit of paper. It was pages from the ledger. He recognized his own neat script written precisely on each page and wondered why on earth she would have ripped them out of the book.
He placed the crumpled pages on the nightstand with her folded apron and removed the rest of her gown, leaving her only in her English panties. He pulled the quilt to her shoulders and tucked her in like a sleeping babe and placed a kiss on her forehead.
After hanging her gown and apron on a peg, Eleazar removed his shirt and shoes and went to the chair by the window. He unfolded the pages she had ripped from the tome and smoothed them over his thigh. With the help of the silver light of the moon he could make out his thin script.
It is on this third Tuesday of September, that I, Bishop Eleazar King, hereby consent to the marriage of Brother Silus Hostetler, son of Damascus Hostetler, descendent of Nicodamus Rocke, to Larissa Hartzler, daughter of Jonas Hartzler, descendant of Ezekiel Hartzler. It is in good standing that the female is of agreement with the union and has made no protests known to the council. It is for such reason that I accept said betrothal as legal in light of the council vote finding the union favorable seven to two, hereby overriding the call for unanimous agreement among the elders.
The bride is of forty-eight years. The parents of the bride have testified to being of firm belief that Larissa Hartzler’s virtue remains intact and that she is healthy, with no reason to assume she shall face difficulty conceiving. It is placed upon the groom, Silus Hostetler, to fortify the link of the Hartzler and Hostetler lines.
Silus Hostetler has testified to a full understanding that his bride of choice is by no means his true called mate. If, by the will of God, Silus is someday called to his true mate, his marriage to Larissa Hartzler shall be considered null and void and the female’s transgressions shall be forgiven, if not overlooked. Any children conceived under the protection of this contract within the bounds of this union will be considered legitimate from here on.
In accordance with The Order and family law, upon consummation of the union, Silus Hostetler holds all rights over his wife to act as head of the household without question. It is within the bounds set forth by our laws that the head of household should maintain any and all rights to determine what is best for his wife and family so long as he does not impede any higher laws of The Order. By taking vows and promising honor and obedience, Larissa Hartzler will be further known as Larissa Hostetler, wife of Silus, and as such promise to honor and obey him in all matters. By the protection of family law, any male, deemed head of the household, shall preserve the final decision in matters of obedience, physical relations, and servitude. It is under the acceptance of such law, that said wife shall leave all decisions to that of her husband. The husband shall determine who may enter the home, how the wife shall serve the home, and so forth. A wife may not leave the home without the husband’s permission. No male shall address the wife of another male without the husband’s permission. The wife shall be courteous to her husband in all matters and show gratitude for his sacrifice and protection. Furthermore, all and every possession, including that of the wife’s personal effects and body shall, from here on, be the sole property of her husband.
This contract is sealed and witnessed by the Bishop,
Eleazar King
Eleazar crumpled the documents in his hand until his knuckles popped painfully. He then cursed himself for being three kinds of a fool. Larissa was right. She had been given away like a sow at a county auction. He had never, in all of his years, considered what a female would be sacrificing in her predicament. True, the laws had been created to protect the rights of called mates and ensure their privacy. While their culture was sometimes rigid, beyond basic Christian beliefs, their Amish way of living was maintained mostly to keep them isolated from the outside world. He had never intended to be the founder of a society that forbids individuality. Yet, that seemed exactly what he had done.
The laws had been written in the early seventeen hundreds during a time when they did not seem so dated. Females could hardly read at such a time. There were rebellions on every continent and safety had been the council’s first concern. Now however, America was settled. English women were educated. They could serve their country in numerous ways from voting to actually sitting as a government official.
Eleazar accepted that their culture opposed certain advancements. The modern world was overwhelming, always changing, growing more and more violent and morally depraved, but he saw no reason to shy from intellectualism. Females were just as capable as males in most scholarly matters. Sure, they were a bit more emotional at times. But that did not make them incapable of contributing in some way or another.
There was so much Eleazar wanted to change. Their laws needed to be amended. There were practices, such as bundling, that he no longer felt he could abide. Although he was the oldest member of The Order, he was not the strictest. There
were elders who held more outdated views than he. He would cause a revolt if he marched into Council Hall and demanded they rewrite the laws they had followed for the past three hundred years.
He looked over to his mate sleeping soundly on his bed. No wonder she had been so upset. He could finally see the world she had lived in from her perspective. She was right. She had the autonomy of an infant on the farm. He no longer felt upset with her. Rather, he felt extreme pride that, in spite of all these repressive laws, she still had the courage to follow what she felt to be fair and right. She had yelled at him more than once today for being unfair. He thought she was the one being unreasonable, but now he realized it was not she that was out of order, but The Order that was.
Chapter 26
The following morning Larissa awoke in a bed she had no recollection of falling asleep in. She was warm under the covers and could feel the cold autumn chill filling the room around her. Winter was coming. She snuggled deeper, prepared to fall back to sleep, then frowned. Pulling her head out from under the covers, she looked around the room. Where was the bishop? She felt the other side of the bed and found it cold.
After several long minutes of contemplating what to do with herself, she finally rose and quickly dressed. She shivered as her bare feet touched the cold wood floor. While there was a large fireplace in the bedroom, there was nothing but ash inside. She would have to insist that the bishop have wood brought up for the following evening.
She visited the water closet and awkwardly tried to tidy herself for the day without her personal toiletries. Once her hair was braided, she returned to the bedroom and waited. She waited, growing more and more impatient by the hour, but no one came. She was without a bonnet and shoes. She pursed her lips, wondering what she should do.
She was growing hungry. They had not eaten more than a few quick bites here and there since the bishop had arrived at her apartment several days ago. Although she had fed twice, her body needed more nourishment then blood alone.
As she sat unattended and forgotten she thought back over the prior evening. The bishop had had her father locked in a cell. Why? Her father was a good male. He had never broken any laws or even interfered where he had no business. Surely there had been some sort of misunderstanding. She was irritated, remembering that, when she tried to speak on his behalf, her father had done nothing but reprimand her for interfering. She had had just about enough of males and their authoritarian beliefs.
Her stomach growled and her ire peaked. Larissa huffed and began pacing across the cold floor, trying to get her blood pumping to warm her body. She went to the window and noticed several buggies parked outside the safe house. Was the bishop entertaining guests? Furious that he could be so ill-mannered and forget that she had no personal effects or even belongings to occupy her time, she stomped out of the room and to the stairs.
She paused at the top of the steps, looking down at her dirty feet. On second thought she went back to the water closet and lathered up a washrag and began scrubbing her feet vigorously. Once they were clean she returned to the stairs. She still was self-conscious of her naked toes and bare head, yet she had waited long enough. How dare he leave her with no food or books or even proper attire for the day!
She was prepared to march down those steps, find the bishop, and tell him what a selfish ass she thought he was. Perhaps she wouldn’t even give him that courtesy. Perhaps she would simply walk down the steps and right out the front door of this godforsaken safe house. He didn’t seem to want her here anyway, at least not as anything more than an ornament that sat idly by, waiting for him to grace her with his fleeting presence.
She thought about where she could go. She didn’t want to go to her mother’s because her father had likely returned home by now and told her about what an embarrassment his daughter was because she tried to defend him. Silly her for believing she could be of some help.
She would have liked to see Gracie, but her sister was likely at her parents’. She thought about going to see Adam, but he was most likely working. Larissa had only met Annalise a few times and wasn’t sure if the female would be offended if Larissa suddenly showed up unannounced.
Larissa wished she knew where Cain was. Of all her siblings he was the one she held dearest to her heart. He understood what her life had been like for the past year. While the rest of her family left her to her husband’s own devices, Cain had always made a point to check in on her and interfere in a subtle way when he thought Silus was being overbearing. Of course he could never interfere in a way that Silus was aware of, but Cain knew that and somehow still managed to help her find some breathing room from time to time. She wondered if he would soon visit her apartment and find it empty. He would worry. Larissa lamented that she did not leave her brother a note so that he would not be concerned.
There was really nowhere for her to go. The bishop had told her she was not to leave the safe house anyway. However, she now felt like disobeying his order for the simple pleasure of showing him that she could. She was not some object to be put away and only pulled out when he felt the desire to play with her.
Feeling her temper rise again, Larissa decided she was going to go find the bishop and tell him exactly what she thought of his disregard for her. She took the first step and paused at the top of the stairs when she heard voices. She looked, but saw no one.
“It will only be a matter of time. You must be patient,” a male voice said. “If you dismiss the council’s order, you will only find yourself out of their favor and that is not a place you want to be.”
Larissa frowned as she tried to place the voice. It was vaguely familiar.
“He is right, my boy. When the time comes you will see it was better that you waited and did as your elders asked. Once things return to normal, you will have every right to restore things in a manner that you see fit. The council will have no authority at that point. And I have no doubt you will do everything in your power so that something like this never happens again,” a second male voice said.
As the voices grew closer, Larissa stepped back into the shadows of the landing. She wanted to see who was speaking, but did not want to be caught eavesdropping. “She will return soon and once she does, you will never have to address the subject of your wife with the council again. I only pray she understands her offense and is repentant for the trouble she has caused. It is important she understand what it truly means to honor and obey.”
“Oh she will learn,” another voice said and Larissa felt her veins fill with icy dread. She knew that voice very well. “After I beat her within an inch of her life for the humiliation she has caused me, I will spend the rest of my days reminding her of her place.”
The sound of male laughter filled the hall. “Easy now, boy. Do not get too rough with her or you will find yourself in front of the council, discussing the issue of wives again.”
“Yes, perhaps to ask for a new one!” her husband said cruelly. “If I had known then what a cold bitch I was getting I never would have asked for her.”
Larissa’s hand went to her throat as she pressed her back firmly against the wall. She could barely breathe for fear of being seen. She heard the men’s footsteps reach the front door. The sound of a match striking and the stench of Silus’s cigar smoke reached her nose.
The other man chuckled again and then said, “She is a rather prim female, but I am no fool. No doubt her prudence makes conquering her all the more rewarding.”
The front door opened as Silus made an agreeable grunt. Larissa could not listen to another word. As soon as she thought they were out of sight of the stairs, she ran to the bishop’s bedroom and slammed the door behind her. Pressing her back into the door, she slid down the surface and began to cry before she even reached the floor.
Chapter 27
It was midnight by the time Eleazar made it upstairs. He had not seen Larissa all day and while he had hoped she found ways to keep herself occupied, he felt atrocious about not being able to spend at least a lit
tle time with her on her first day in his home. He knew it had to be a bit intimidating finding your way in a home you had never visited before. However, it was now her home, too, and it would do her well to adjust to that fact as quickly as possible.
He wondered how Larissa would change his house. No doubt she would leave little fingerprints of herself here and there, accents that only a female eye could see a house needed to become a home. Eleazar looked forward to watching her express herself in such a way. He would find great pleasure and pride in knowing that she saw his home as her own. Perhaps she would even choose one room to convert into a nursery.
He had not been able to leave his office for most of the day. He had left his bed in the early-morning hours in order to familiarize himself with what had been going on in his absence. After poring over various ledgers and making a list of issues he needed to address with the other elders, he had sent a messenger out with a request for the elders to join him for a meeting to discuss urgent matters, matters such as Isaiah Hartzler.
By the time the council meeting was underway, it was already noon. They had discussed the repercussions of Isaiah’s survival at some length, each male adding his own theory to the debate. Reaching a verdict regarding his execution was not an easy task. For such a vote the board would have to reach a unanimous consensus. This may have happened sooner if one of the elders was not Ezekiel Hartzler, Isaiah’s brother.
Calling for a Miracle [The Order of Vampyres 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 26