Goddess Born

by Kari Edgren

  “There is no use fighting against my wishes.” He opened his eyes and looked directly at me. Though never as dark blue as my own, over the past year his eyes had faded to a steely gray. A faint smile pulled on his mouth, taking much of the sting from his rebuke.

  “Oh, Father!” I cried. “Why must you be so stubborn?”

  “It is my time, daughter. I have no fear of dying.”

  “You can’t leave me.” Tears filled my eyes. “Let me heal you once more, then I’ll promise never to ask again, no matter what happens.”

  He pulled a shaky hand from under the blankets and placed it on top of my own. “I consented to be healed last summer when the sickness first started to grow. But it has come back, and even you must obey God’s will.”

  “A pox on God’s will!” I yanked my hand away and quickly rose to my feet. “I have heard enough of His will for one day.”

  The smile left my father’s face, replaced by worry. “Such hard words, Selah. Did something happen in town this morning?”

  “Nathan Crowley happened,” I said angrily. “I met him on the road, and he told me it was God’s will for us to marry. He even claimed a vision of my inner light.” Despair threatened to sap my remaining strength when I received my own flash of inspiration. My father had only to understand the depth of my plight. Then he would have no choice but to stay with me longer. “He demanded that I stand with him in meeting this Sunday or he would have me disowned.”

  “Ah,” my father said as though already familiar with this part of my antagonist’s plan. “Nathan hinted of this months ago when I first refused him my consent to court you. At the time I explained that it was impossible to disown someone who is not yet a member. It sounds like he is determined to get around this detail.”

  “That and worse,” I continued with great urgency. “Nathan suspects my gift and has threatened to charge me as a witch if I refuse to marry him. Be assured, unless I submit to his demands, he’ll see me homeless, without so much as a sheaf of wheat left to sell.”

  Grim lines etched my father’s face. Pulling in a raspy breath, he released it in a weary sigh. “Selah, these things mean nothing.”

  My heart sank alongside my last hope. “I’ll try to remember that next winter when I’m half starved and living in a ditch somewhere. Hunger and cold might mean nothing to you at this point, but they are everything to me if I wish to continue in this world.”

  “Forgive me, daughter, I only meant that we must first think of the altar. Everything else can be replaced.”

  “But it’s hidden. Surely there’s no risk of losing that too.”

  My father shook his head. “All the land belongs to the estate. If you’re driven from Brighmor, you’ll be forced to sneak around like a thief in the night, just asking to be caught. It will be only a matter of time before the altar is discovered and you’re cut off from the Otherworld.”

  The truth shot through me. No altar...No Otherworld...No power...Nathan would take everything—my home and my birthright.

  When I had first come into the room I hadn’t believed my father could be any paler, but these new worries caused all the remaining color to leave his face. He stared up at the ceiling for several minutes, silently contemplating my troubles.

  A spark fired in his eyes when he turned back to me. “It was a mistake to underestimate Nathan. We’ll need to move quickly, before it’s too late.”

  “There’s nothing to be done,” I said miserably. “Nathan knows you’re dying. He’s probably speaking to the Elders this very minute.”

  “We’ve still time—”

  “No, we haven’t! Unless the sickness is cured, you’ll be dead by tomorrow night.”

  My candor was rewarded with a stern look of disapproval. “Did you see this when you tried to heal me?”

  I nodded sheepishly.

  “How easily you break our laws,” he sighed.

  Guilt pricked at my conscience, but having already crossed the line, I decided to continue forward regardless of any future punishments. “It’s only fair that you understand the consequences of your decision. Nathan knows Samuel is expected soon, and will stop at nothing to force me into marriage before he arrives. Tell me, Father, what shall I do without a parent to intercede on my behalf?”

  “Do not tempt me to act against God, Selah. My first instinct is to remain here and see this fight through to the end, but God has given me another path.”

  I tossed up my arms in defeat. “Then all is lost for me! I might as well surrender my birthright for good and accept Nathan’s proposal this very evening. Why start something I am sure to lose?”

  “Because your downfall is far from certain. Rather than give in, you will leave for Philadelphia tonight and wait for your cousin’s ship to arrive. When you return married, Nathan will lick his wounds and move his attentions to another young lady.”

  The very idea was unthinkable and I folded my arms stubbornly across my chest. “How can you send me away right now? If you are determined to leave this world, then I am equally determined to stay with you through the end.”

  Anger flashed on my father’s face, and I watched him struggle to lift his head from the pillow. My heart wrenched when even this small act proved too difficult, and he collapsed back to the bed, winded from the effort. “The next fifty years are of greater concern than my last few hours,” he said faintly. “You will do as I say and go to Philadelphia to marry your cousin. The moment Samuel steps off the boat, find a magistrate and get the business done. Only then will your future be secure.”

  “You want me to marry him at first sight?” I asked, taken aback. Having an arranged marriage was one thing, but marrying a man after knowing him for less than a day was inconceivable. What if he demands his marital rights the very night we are married? My stomach clenched with fear, sending hot and cold tremors racing through me.

  “Come here, Selah,” my father said, his expression softening as he beckoned me back down to his side. I knelt and let him take my hand again. “Please understand this is the only way. It is imperative that you are married before returning to Hopewell, or there is no telling what trouble Nathan will stir up.”

  “But I’ve never even met Samuel. What if we detest each other?” What if he’s hideous and foul-tempered? “You promised to give me time to get better acquainted before we wed.”

  “It is too dangerous for you to be alone. Let me die knowing my daughter is safe from being hunted like our kind in the Old World. Samuel is a good man. He has taken the oath to protect you, even unto death. Promise you’ll not return home unmarried.”

  My father stared at me, his eyes pleading, and I found myself unable to deny this last request. “I shall marry first.”

  His face relaxed into a weak smile. “Go and pack your trunk while I rest. When you are done, come back and draft some letters for the trip. I will need to explain the entire matter to Samuel and also beg Netty Bradford of Meredith House to act as your guardian in my place. If Captain Harlow is in attendance at the docks, I ask that you personally relay the reason for my absence. Do you recall his appearance from when you last met?”

  The image of a tall man in a sea captain’s hat popped into my head. “I believe so.”

  “Very good.” My father took several shallow breaths as he fought to remain master of his ailing body. “You are just like your mother,” he said, struggling now with each word. “And like her you will find that true strength comes when you learn to fear no one but God. Now leave me be. You have much to do, and I must rest if I am to be of any further use today.”

  Obediently, I got to my feet and left the room. Closing the door, I slumped against it to keep from crumpling to the floor. No matter how much I wanted to be strong like my mother, I trembled with fear. I had never been more frightened in my entire life.

  * * *

 
That evening Ben and I were both in dour moods when he assisted me into the carriage before climbing to his own place on the driver’s box. Worry lines creased his face and with hair like salt and pepper, he looked all of his forty-eight years. Taking the reins, he clicked his tongue, spurring the horses to motion. The coach lurched forward, and I swayed from the momentum as the wheels crunched against the gravel.

  Near the end of the driveway, I looked out the window and watched Brighmor disappear from view. Hot tears streaked my face and I pulled a linen handkerchief from my pocket, denied even the smallest hope of ever seeing my father again in this lifetime—by tomorrow evening he would be dead and his spirit released to the Otherworld, far beyond where I was allowed to go. “Go dté tú fd bhrat Bhrighde,” I whispered. May you travel safely under Brigid’s mantle.

  Blood pounded in my head. Pressing a finger to each temple, I tried in vain to rub the pain away. I loved my father above all else in this world. And I needed him now more than ever.

  Yet, he chooses to die, a bitter voice whispered from somewhere deep inside me, and leave you to fend for yourself.

  The pounding grew anew and white patches flashed before me. I pressed even harder against my temples, as much to ease the pain as to rid myself of these treacherous thoughts. Gracious God, I’ll go mad if I think of it now. I had to be strong, to hold my emotions at bay or risk giving into them altogether. There would be time to grieve once my future was secure and I no longer felt like a pawn in another person’s game. With a deep breath, I swallowed back the remaining tears. Then, piece by piece, I steeled my heart for what lay ahead.

  The sun had already slipped past the horizon, casting dark shadows on the side of the road. Other than broken wheels or fallen trees, trouble was rare on this stretch of road connecting Hopewell to Philadelphia. Even so, Ben wasn’t fond of traveling at night and had loaded a brace of pistols and two short swords into the compartment beneath his seat before we left. For my own part, the letters I had prepared were tucked safely in my trunk, ready to be presented to their proper recipients.

  Fortunately there was no trouble to be had, and very late on the second night, when I felt my bones could not stand another minute of being jostled about, we reached Meredith House. While Ben saw to the horses I went inside to await Mrs. Bradford’s attention.

  She found me a moment later near the empty hearth. Rather than trying to explain anything myself, I simply handed her the proper letter. Breaking the red wax seal, she read its contents. I was soon assured the rooms would be mine for as long as they were needed and, having only married children herself, she was more than happy to serve as my chaperone for the duration of my stay. The preliminaries settled, she began to inquire about the seriousness of my father’s illness. When I silently looked away, she decided otherwise, and left to have the rooms prepared.

  I arrived upstairs to find a maid waiting with a supper tray. Travel worn, I declined everything except a small bowl of broth. As the maid helped me undress, I requested the Philadelphia Gazette be sent up with breakfast so I could see which ships were currently docked. Not that it mattered, since Captain Harlow wasn’t due to bring The Berkshire in for another week under fair conditions. A bad storm or time spent becalmed could push the expected arrival to a full month. I sighed, frustrated with my part in this game of hurry and wait. Aided by the light of a single candle, I climbed under the covers and nestled into the down mattress, wishing to trade my worries for sleep.

  The next thing I knew daylight had replaced the small flame. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I peeked out from beneath the bedding when a knock sounded on the door, bringing me fully upright. Before I could answer either yea or nay, the door swung open and the maid walked in with a breakfast tray.

  “Good morning, miss. Did ye have a good sleep?”

  In the midst of a yawn, I settled for nodding my response.

  She placed the tray on the table and began setting out the dishes. “Mistress Bradford feared ye might be ill with ye hardly touching a bite of supper last night. I told her not to worry, that ye was just tired out from traveling.” She poured a cup of tea and placed the newspaper next to a basket of bread. “Here ye go. Just printed this morning.”

  “Thank you.” I swung my legs over the side of the bed. “Do you have time to help me dress before breakfast?”

  “Aye, miss. And I can see to them curls if ye like.”

  I chose a simple cotton gown, then sat quietly while the maid looped my dark curls into a neat bun. Once she left I went to the table, determined to behave as though it were any other day. My stomach growled its neglect and I focused on the soft-boiled eggs and fresh bread before turning my attention to the newspaper.

  A single essay, titled “A Modest Enquiry into the Nature and Necessity of Paper Currency”, took up the entire front page. Stifling a yawn, I turned the page. The inside contained a sermon that had been delivered the previous Sunday by a renowned Quaker minister on the moral harm of dancing, theater, and other frivolous activities. I skipped the sermon, settling instead on the public notices for employment, lost and found goods, and items for sale.

  Reading to the bottom, I turned the page, hoping to find more notices for stray horses and runaway servants, when my eye fell on the list of ships currently docked along the Delaware. While sipping my tea, I began to scan the list more from interest than expectation. The Larkspur, which had docked ten days prior, was departing tomorrow morning. Makepeace arrived three days ago and was advertising for able seamen for its voyage to the West Indies. As I trailed a finger down the long list of arrivals and departures, I gasped, nearly choking on a mouthful of tea.

  The Berkshire had arrived yesterday afternoon.

  “This can’t be!” But there was no denying the bold black ink.

  The mantel clock read a quarter past ten. I jumped up for my hat and gloves, frantic to be off at once. Best case, Samuel would be staying at a guesthouse for a few days to make any necessary purchases before leaving the city. Worst case, he had left Philadelphia and was already halfway to Brighmor. My only hope was that he had not departed the ship without first informing Captain Harlow of his plans.

  At least I had the presence of mind to get Ben on my way out of the inn. Mrs. Bradford would still be well put out once she got word of this outing, but there was no time to waste in finding the woman.

  I refused to wait for the carriage, choosing instead to walk the three blocks to the river. The vast number of ships at anchor offered an impressive sight. Under normal circumstances I would have appreciated such evidence of our modern times if not for the great inconvenience they posed for finding The Berkshire and Captain Harlow. Luckily for me, Ben was not so easily discouraged. Taking my elbow, he led me through the bustling crowd. He stopped only twice to ask about The Berkshire and in no time had me in front of the right ship.

  A group of men stood nearby, but I paid them no heed as I debated the best way to get a message to the captain. Deep in thought, I didn’t notice Ben had left until a minute later when he came back with a gentleman at his side. Although I hadn’t seen the man in years, his appearance was little altered and I recognized him at once.

  Captain Harlow removed his hat and bowed gracefully. “Good Morning, Miss Kilbrid.” “Good morning, Captain Harlow,” I said, returning the greeting with a small curtsy. “I have come to enquire about my cousin, Mr. Samuel Kilbrid. Do you know if he took up residence in town or left straight away for Hopewell when you arrived yesterday?”

  The captain looked nervously at Ben and then back to me. “I’m afraid neither, Miss Kilbrid.”

  I blinked in confusion. “Well, then where is he? Did he remain on the ship?”

  “No, miss, your cousin is no longer onboard,” the captain said, slowly shaking his head. “He was struck with the palsy and died at sea.”

  Chapter Two

  The Lesser of Two Evils
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  Captain Harlow began to waver and fade as darkness pushed in on all sides, threatening my field of vision. I must have stumbled forward since the next thing I knew Ben had one arm around my waist and the other at my elbow to keep me from falling to the ground. Guiding me to a nearby wooden crate, he helped me sit before kneeling down to have a good look at my face. Captain Harlow knelt beside him.

  “She’ll be all right,” Ben said. “A little rest, and then I’ll see her back to the inn.”

  “But she’s gone white as a sheet,” the captain said. “Should I send for a doctor?”

  “No, no,” I protested, even though he wasn’t talking to me. “Just give me a minute, and I’ll be fine. Your news caught me unaware.” The fainting spell had passed, and with my vision restored there was little risk of tumbling from the crate.

  “I fear your visit took me by surprise, Miss Kilbrid, and I handled the matter with little delicacy. Please accept my apologies.”

  “There is no need, Captain Harlow,” I assured him.

  “I felt horrible when the lad took sick under my watch, especially since he was a close relation to Jonathan Kilbrid.” The captain quickly glanced around. “Did your father send you alone to meet your cousin?”

  A dull ache swelled in my chest. Last night I’d ignored Mrs. Bradford’s inquiries rather than give voice to the truth. But as my father had given me specific instructions in this case, I inhaled a deep breath through my nose and proceeded the best I could. “I’m sorry, Captain. He recently passed away.”

  Ben’s shoulders slumped forward, and I cursed myself for not telling him sooner.

  The captain’s face also fell. “This is terrible news. I knew your father for more than thirty years and can honestly say there was no better man.”

  “Thank you, Captain.” I swallowed several times to force back the tears. I had already lost enough dignity for one day. The last thing I needed was to start blubbering in front of a dock full of strangers.