Updated 7/22/24

Chapter 4

David

The horse reared up, its black forelegs and the angular black head of the muscled two-year-old mare towered over David. He held his hand high, the lead line dangling down his arm. Sweat dripped down his face as he counted and she seemed to listen. Finally, he lowered his arm and she came down as graceful as a butterfly. Soon he would have her dancing.

“That’s it, girl, good, good,” he said as his thumb stroked the length of the mare’s black cheek before he set her up in the cross ties, groomed her, and tacked her up for the day ahead.

She was a beauty, unlike the day she was born—barely standing, wobbling on spindly legs, still dripping from her mother’s womb. Eikhan, the magistrate’s oldest son told David to name her and train her throughout the rest of his apprenticeship. So, that very day he named the filly Monarch. Since every apprentice must show his mastery of the skills, he decided she would be his masterpiece.  Many moons had passed since then, and David, now almost twelve, had been working for Magistrate Gorum for four years, first as an apprentice, but now as the Stable Master.

As the morning dew gave way to midday, he muscled through the chores. The colts were fed the last of the oats, and he added the item to the list of supplies needed for the north barn on his report. Once his equine charges finished their breakfast, he let them out to pasture where they romped and raced kicking up their heels in defiance of the world. Watching them, he felt as restless as they did. The same excitement they had, thrumming through him with the understanding that this would be his last day. He loved the horses and all that Master Gorum had taught him, but it was past time for him to start on the path that would lead him to his destiny.

His ma had been writing to him and Magistrate Gorum regularly. In her last letter, she told him she’d collect him before the waning moon of autumn. The waning moon began tomorrow. It was why he had longed for this day as far back as he could remember; the day he’d see his ma again; the day she would fetch him and take him to the Knights’ School to become a Knight of J’shua, just like his father.

He had wondered if his father would also come to visit Gorum’s farm, perhaps then his parents would finally reunite. He hadn’t seen his father for two years, not since the attack on the farm. The same went for his sister, Sarah, who would have turned eight this year. He sighed, but decided it was best not to dwell on such matters.

Meeting with Eikhan, Rhoran, and Khant, the four of them rode along the fence line looking for damaged wood, breaks, or any sign of trespassing predators. They had just stopped by the grove of pear trees for a snack when they heard the bell tower ring a single vibrating peal.

“A vistor, this early? Are they lost?” asked Rhoran.

She’s here!

“It must be my ma,” said David as he ran over to Monarch, untied her with haste, leapt onto her back, and galloped away. The others mounted up shortly thereafter, riding after him to the gate.

David felt the echo of his excitement in Monarch’s prancing as he waited for the lone rider to approach. But—a tinge of worry clawed at his heart too. What if it wasn’t her, but someone else? He squinted unable to make out the finer details of the person riding up.

Why didn’t I bring my glass?

The mount was the color of hickory …

The rider was definitely a woman …

A woman who wore a long wool tunic …

A woman who had a sword dangling from a sash tied tight across the hips; the same fashion as Esthlani women!

It really is her!

Cantering ahead of the others with a sweeping wave, the short sword clapping against his hip, he yelled, “Ma you’re here!”

The approaching woman spurred her horse in kind toward him; her face shining with joy. When she drew close, the tears that filled her eyes stabbed the depths of his heart. All the nights of homesickness flooded back, and he had to blink away his own emotion less this moment become a blur.

Once close enough, they pulled their horses to a stop beside each other. David threw his arms around her neck, and she in turn wrapped him up and pulled him close filling him with all the comfort the world had to offer.

“I miss you,” he said in her ear, his face buried in her hair.

“And I you.” She pulled back looking him over with a warm smile that melted into pride. “Care to escort me the rest of the way?”

“Of course!” David wiped his face as a cloud of dust ahead grew shorter and the young men he had come to know as brothers pulled up before them. Greetings were exchanged before the four boys led the way to the house up ahead. David kept Monarch in line with his ma’s side, excited to be in her presence, but—he bit his bottom lip.

What do I say?

“You look well. Is your apprenticeship finished?”

He blinked, but then beamed as the answer came to mind. “Yes, it ended several moons ago. Since you were delayed, Master Gorum asked me to stay on, so I’m a journeyman now.” His gaze held onto her, looking to see if her smile had broadened, or her eyes had widened, or for any sign that offered so much as a hint of approval. His patience outpaced him though and he continued on, “Look, see this horse, see this saddle? I earned them, and our circle—” He lifted the flap of the baldric that lay across his chest and patted the book inside. “Look, our circle gave me this. Doesn’t it look just like Da’s.”

His ma reached over and passed her hand over the embossed leather holster. “It does, and just as beautiful as I remember your Da’s being. Has he written you? Your Da.”

“Yes, weekly, bundles arrive each moon. I think he’s in Tarinland, but his letters are cryptic. He looks for you and Sarah everywhere. Are you …?”

Ma placed her hand on his shoulder. “Lord J’shua has missions for us both that, so far, have kept us apart. Still, His small voice tells me your sister’s alive and well.” Her smile withered into disappointment. “Yet, despite help from many, I haven’t heard a whisper of where she might be. Has anything reached you regarding her whereabouts?”

“No.” David shook his head. “Very little news of Freislicht reaches here, and even less of it reaches my ears.” He twisted the reigns in his hands. “They think they’re being kind, but—thank you for writing, Ma—I was so worried for you. I’m still worried for Sarah, and have often questioned if I should be,” he sighed, “if I should be grieving her.” David looked into his ma’s eyes and saw his sadness reflecting back at her.

His ma nodded. Her hand on his shoulder squeezing him. “As have I, son, but we must not let ourselves be swayed by our fears; we must have faith; we must simply trust J’shua. Though as your Ma, I appreciate Master Gorum’s attempt to spare your feelings, even if it’s in vain.”

David nodded, and silence, filled only with the rhythm of horses’ hooves on the well-trodden pathway falls between them …

***

Dismounting and tying Monarch up at the house, David smiled as he saw his master, Magistrate Gorum, waiting on the porch.

However, before he approached the man with the other three boys, he went over to his ma and embraced her again, properly this time. “Last time I hugged you, I could only reach your waist.”

“Yes, you’ve grown quite a bit, my son.” she said, and he took note of the sadness in her tone, and the way she held him all the tighter for it.

“Welcome, Lady Otual. Come, have tea with me,” The old gentleman said as he pointed to comfortable tufted chairs around a low table.

A servant brought out sliced fruit and cakes. Another followed with the tea and cups.

“Master Gorum.” His ma gasped. “You are treating me like royalty. And here I am, taking away your help.” She looked down at her hands.

“Please, call me Agon, Jon does.” As he went about pouring a cup a tea, “And no need to feel guilt, this was the agreement from the beginning, remember? Besides, your son’s now prepared to teach all he knows of horses to his future peers. Having the knights become horsemen, as well as swordsmen, will be good for all, don’t you think?”

Ma nodded and David let her usher him up the steps, her arm around his shoulders which had broadened since they were last together. “Right you are, Agon. Still, I hope taking him away will not be too much of a burden for you?”

“Bah, I’ve got three others who could use the extra discipline, worry not. Though I admit, it’s been a prosperous three years with David’s help.” Gorum clasped David’s shoulder and offered the cup to Ma. “He has a talent with animals. It is I who should be and will be giving thanks.”

Ma accepted the tea, taking a small sip until a question creased her brow, “Pardon?”

Gorum continued, “In thanks, to you and Jonathan, and praise be to J’shua, I am giving the knights twenty-five horses. Please tell them to pick them up whenever they can.”

Astonished by the magistrate’s generosity at such a princely gift, his Ma stumbled back and David fetched her a seat, which she planted herself in.

“Thank you, that is very—"

“There’s another matter.” Gorum cleared his throat, straightening his jacket. “I promised Jon, and myself, that I’d keep you safe.”

Ma chuckled and leaned forward to the small table between her and the magistrate, trading the teacup for a cake. “Well, I suppose there is no stopping you, go on.”

“And there is no forcing such ‘safety measures’ upon you, but you’re right there is no stopping me from trying. Therefore, will you permit me to provide you with extra horses, provisions, perhaps weapons, and an escort?”

The cake devoured, his Ma sat forward once more, thought it over with the aid of her tea, and finally—responded, “I’d appreciate an escort to the Tarin River Trading Post. But beyond your borders, being accompanied by Esthlani warriors would draw attention.”

“Done.” Gorum poured more tea for himself. “And the other things?”

“Let’s discuss them.”

David listened to them get reacquainted, smiling at the thought of traveling with his ma during the week-long trip ahead. He had longed for his ma ever since he left home with his father to come here three years ago. All the silent tears he’d shed those first weeks—he was embarrassed by the memory of them. But grown up now, he was ready for the days of training ahead. He was ready to make his dream a reality at the Knights’ School.

“Be proud of him, lady,” he said. “He’s my best apprentice in thirty-five years. Had he no parents, I’d adopt him.”

“Hopefully, you’ll never be held to that.” His Ma laughed, relaxing back in the chair. She took another sip of the fragrant tea.

David smiled as he emptied his cup—peach, pear, nutmeg, and cinnamon. Fruit and spices he doubted they’d have at the School.

Gorum spoke of the business of horse breeding, and she told of her travels.

“I met boys hiding in the woods whose parents had been arrested. They have a settlement of a sort near Caswell.” Ma didn’t offer a name. Naming people could bring danger. “Their leader is fourteen years old. Jonathan helped them.”

David’s eyes widened. “That’s near the same age as me!”

“Yes, he and his brothers met your father and he taught them how to survive. They’ve learned his lessons well, and taught them to other boys they find hiding. I’ve tried to learn tidings of their parents.”

She reached out to David, who clasped her hand, squeezing it.

“They have great heart, like you, and,” she gave his hand another press, “I believe good things will come from them, just as I do from you.”

His grin returned, raising his eyes to her as she acknowledged him.

Their attention returned back to Gorum who talked about this and that with his Ma well into the night.

David stared off, barely hearing them.His mind at work, imagining the hours of training he’d have with a sword. He promised himself he would not let anyone know that he already knew as much as he did, including the fact that he had mastered his father’s practice routines. After all, he didn’t want to be the drecksa that knew everything and showed people up.

But how do I hide what I know?

Puzzling over the best way to do that, he pictured his father helping people in need. He could hear his voice as he reasoned with the irate and comforted the downtrodden.

I will make you proud, Da.

His ma’s words began to bleed into his thoughts. They were talking about the troubles that were spreading across Freislicht. He pictured his da, hiding from soldiers and black-robes and prayed in spirit.

Give him strength J’shua …

“Before I forget.” The magistrate’s words broke through David’s meanderings, who looked over to his mentor with a curious spark.

Gorum reached into his pouch and brought out an elegant dagger in an embossed leather sheath. “Jonathan sent this. Said David needed a knife, and it was customary for the father to provide it.”

His ma took the sheathed blade and drew it out, turning it over and testing the edge. “It’s a fine dagger.” She passed it and its sheath to David.

David stood, took the sheath, and threaded it onto his belt before buckling it again. He then took the blade, observing it from tip to hilt. “It is a fine piece, indeed.” He slipped it back into its leather carrier, and drew his shoulders straight. “I will cherish it, and maybe, I hope, I will be able to travel with father after I finish my training.”

His ma took his hand. “Son.”

“Mother.” David smirked.

 “You could return here to Esthlanis after your training, as I’m sure Master Gorum would be most appreciative of your continued help.”

David’s brows lifted, before a frown nestled in his brow. He shook his head. “No. I cannot, Ma.” He then turned to Gorum. “I mean, Master Gorum I know the offer is there and,  I’m thankful for your training and guidance, sir.” He turned back to his Ma. “But I am to be a Knight of J’shua like my father, and knights do not muck stalls and hide in the homesteads of Magistrates. They do noble deeds, like finding Sarah, which I plan to do.”

Although Ma’s smile remained, it weakened as her jaw tensed, and she cast her hand along David’s head, stroking her fingers through his hair, calming him. “Good, son, I am sure you will.”

Gorum pulled out a bundle tied with hemp twine. “I’ve something for you, too, Rebekah.

She took the bundle and sighed. “Hmph. It is true, we’ve missed seeing each other over the past two years, but I have heard that those who hunt him are relentless, and I dare not risk his wellbeing on desires fed by loneliness. It should be enough—It is enough to know he’s well and doing J’shua’s work. Here is a letter for him, should you see him again or hear of a place to send it.”

Gorum accepted the folded paper, his face solemn.

“Thank you for taking such good care of our boy.” She touched the magistrate’s hand.

David’s eyes drooped, prompting a grin from his Ma. He could hear it in her voice as she said, “I think it is time for everyone to go to bed.”

David shook his head, and blinked away the sleep. “No, no. Don’t stop on my account. I’m too excited to sleep.”

Gorum laughed and shook David’s shoulder. “You’ve a long journey ahead, and I know how badly you want to begin it. So go to bed. We’ll talk more in the morning.”

Goodnights were exchanged, and David sighed with satisfaction as his ma disappeared into the house and up the stairs. Then he headed off the porch, untied Monarch and took his leave for his room in the stable. Some might think that a lowly place, but the rich mahogany bookcase on either side of a large fireplace made him think otherwise. Glass doors protected the equestrian reference books inside from dust, as well as all the journals of three generations of the Gorum family’s production and practices. The bed was fit for a king’s too with a thick feather mattress and clean linens sitting atop a second mattress of straw.

Readying himself for sleep, his last thought as his head hit the pillow was, I will miss this.

***

Morning came quickly and the breakfast table exploded with all David’s. Servants streamed in and out of the room like the bees of a hive, setting plates and cups, napkins and silverware. Steaming pancakes stacked high on a platter, sliced fruit and cheese fanned out on a wooden board, and a pitcher of goat milk lay on the table in the grand dining room.

When Gorum entered he signaled everyone to sit. “David, come sit on my right hand.” Eikhan, who already sat one seat over from his usual place, nodded to David, telling him with his raised brows that it was alright.

David gave a sheepish smile but bowed before sitting. “Sir, you honor me. Thank you.”

David knew this man better than his own father and loved him, too. After all, this man had raised him like a son. Tears crept up at the corners of his eyes, and he fought to blink them away. 

Ultimately, it was his heavenly Father that was responsible for all the good in his life. And he thanked Him for all His grace and mercy in the relationships that were his. That is what his da would say was right to do as well. His da … David took a breath to steady himself and come to terms with reality. He was an Otual, and as an Otual it was his job to carry on his father’s legacy.

However, destiny or not, he would enjoy the present. He dug into the feast before him, savoring all the delicacies that he would surely miss while he trained with the Knights.

After they’d all had their fill, Gorum and his sons walked them out to the waiting horses, David’s Monarch included. David snuck her a slice of apple from breakfast as he took note of the three-man escort, decked out in oiled leather jerkins, swords, and bows, waiting at the head of the line. A gentle pat for his mare, and he mounted up with everyone else.

Turning back for a final farewell, he watched Magistrate Gorum give a bow, and the signal for the escort to proceed. The man who held so much importance in his life and the young men who he’d come to call brothers, waved from the porch as he and his mother rode down the drive toward the iron gate.

He waved back, before turning his eyes to the path ahead.

Wild heather grew on either side of the gate exploding with butterflies. They had been cute, fuzzy caterpillars, useless eaters merely days ago, stripping the leaves from every green plant. And now—

Now, they had new powers and a new perspective, flitting from flower to flower.

It’s time for me to start a new life too.

***

They headed south to the Shining Mountains. Three days later, the escort left them with a grunt, and headed back north, while he and his ma crossed the Tarin River just south of the Tarin Inn.

“Aren’t we going to stay at the inn?” He asked his ma as he wrung the water from the bottom of his cloak and went about checking the rest of the items in his pack.

“No, inns offer comfort, but they often harbor danger. I prefer to avoid them.” Her lip twitched as she teased, “Why, are you already missing your high station at the horse farm?”

David laughed. “Times will be missed for sure like the brothers and the horses that I raised from weak-legged foals.” Everything appearing dry, he began to repack his things. “But no, Ma. As I said I’m ready to move ahead, to be a knight, like Da.”

His ma nodded, but her smile had faded.

He almost asked her what was wrong. But he knew plenty was wrong. Da was being hunted even though he’d done no harm, and his innocent little sister, Sarah. So, everything was wrong in the world.

Mounting back up, they carried on with their journey. After midday they turned to the west and headed off the beaten path into dense trees. Pushing through the thick forest despite there being a perfectly acceptable road for use, David had to ask, “Are we hiding from someone, too?”

“Perhaps—I am not very comfortable traveling in Freislicht, but soon we’ll be at a familiar place and I can change.”

“Change?”

“You’ll see. Be patient.” Her focus remained on the faint pathway through the woods. A pathway that grew thicker, narrower, and darker over the next two days.

Just before dark, his ma dismounted and took a pack from her horse. “Start a fire, David. You’ll find the wood you need between those oaks.”

He set to the task as she disappeared into the trees, and by the time he heard her again he was feeding a small blaze.

He gasped as she walked past, his mouth agape. “Ma!”

“How do I look?” she asked.

“You-you look like … a man!” He reached out and touched her beard. “It even feels real.”

“Thank you. It’s made of my own hair. Some friends of mine tie each hair, curl them, and then trim them. It takes many days to finish it properly.”

“But why …?” He frowned.

“It’s the easiest way to hide in plain sight, son.”

He watched, still not sure what to make of her appearance as she paraded by him and back.

“The act must be flawless,” she said. “Your father is being hunted, a hefty price on his head.”

“I know, but—”

“—But those pursuing him would use me against him should they find me, coercing him to give himself up. So, I disguise myself. I’ve become so good at playing a man that I kept at it. But—” she hesitated, “there are some things you need to know before committing to the Knights. It is not the only path that lies before you.”

 “What do you mean?” He continued to stare at her, struggling to connect the voice to the masculine image before him.

“I’m not merely hiding. There is a group, Licht Gegen, that I work with. Over the last few years, we’ve cautiously built up a network. No one knows how large it is, or the names of everyone involved.”

“What do they want?”

“What we all want, to be free—without persecution from nobles such as the Earl of Lorness.”

David swallowed hard at hearing that name. On the Earl’s orders, the farm was burned, and his grandparents killed.

His ma continued, “What they did was wrong. What they wanted to do was wrong. They would have sold Sarah and me into slavery while unlawfully demanding payment. All while your grandparents had a contract.”

“Yes, but … You’re scaring me. It’s one thing to hide, but to work against—” He frowned, his eyes scrunching almost closed in a grimace.

“Licht Gegen wants all to live without interference,” she said quietly, not wanting to alarm him more. “But that requires organization, information, and money. As Tommas Bekh,” she gestured at herself, “I can drink with the men, befriend them, and fill in gaps in our knowledge of the enemy, and we have learned so much, though there is still more to learn.”

She walked up to him, stroked her hand over his head of hair, a sign his Ma was still there, in the flesh. “You might actually find you like it as well. We work with people from all walks of life who seek the same thing. Farmers, traders, soldiers, lesser nobles … Of course, there are the less savory folk like thieves, but they all help us willingly. Some for coin. Some out of hatred ...”

“Ma, you can’t risk yourself like this. What would Da say?”

She took his hand. “That I’m heeding J’shua’s call and doing what I can. Not every person serves the God of Truth by wielding a sword or spreading his words. You can if that is still your wish, but you could,” her hand squeezed his, “join Licht Gegen, like me.”

David’s eyes had never left her as she spoke, but the words she wanted to hear he couldn’t bring himself to call forth.

His Ma sighed, “It’s been slow going, for I’ve not been able to pursue my goals boldly. It requires caution and guile after all and my role as Tommas is not merely a cover—He’s real.”

Has she lost her mind?

His look of confusion did not escape her notice and she continued, “As him, I own enterprises I must keep profitable, and I employ more people than you’d believe.”

David gasped. “You own … enterprises?”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

“But I don’t know anything about running an enterprise.”

“Look, it didn’t start out that way, and it won’t start out that way for you. There are many things you could do for me, posing in roles from clerk to rich merchant.”

“I—” He shook his head. “Why not give it up? Have someone else run them. Find Sarah. She’s still missing, don’t you—”

“Yes, I know. Do you think I’ve given up on her? Far from it. The contacts I’ve built up give me a greater chance of finding your sister. If I let them go, I let her go.”

Regret painted his cheeks and he swallowed the lump in his throat, looking away, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be David, I know your pain, our pain … I will find her, no matter the cost or how long it takes. If that means being Tommas, so be it. If it means working with Licht Gegen, so be it. But this tangled weave we have ourselves in, it’s complex, beyond imagining. But, bit by bit, there is progress.”

“How so?” Hope lingered in his eyes, was his Ma on the cusp of locating Sarah?

“Well, to give you an idea, aside from a royal minister, I know far more about what is happening in Lorness and High Keep thanks to my connections.”

“That’s—astonishing.”

“I concur. It seems I have a gift for this. But, even with the connections we’ve established, we are still piecing things together, still trying to identify the key culprits. I know Earl Gaelib Melazera is one of them. We just can’t prove it, yet.”

“I—I’d never have thought … that is … it’s dangerous.” David looked down, shaking his head.

“What else would you have me do? Pray all day, leaving everything in J’shua’s hands when my own hands are able, my mind clear, and my need to act—undeniable. What were my alternatives?”

“I—” David wrung his hands.

“Would you have been happier had I done this spying as a woman? Would you have me act the harlot to—”

David’s face shot up, a look of horror upon it. “You wouldn’t.” His voice collapsed into a whisper. “You couldn’t …”

“No, I couldn’t. However—” Ma’s mouth quirked.

“However, what?”

“As Tommas Bekh, I receive information from the—sometimes the unlikeliest of sources. Men and women seeking to help our cause, despite their misfortunes.”

He still frowned. “That is extraordinary, Ma, I—”

“David, I’m guided by J’shua’s voice—as you will be. Have faith. But as we resume our travels, let me give you some perspective on what I do before you make your final decision. I have stops to make in Fairness Crossing and Lexandria before we go up the mountain, as Tommas Bekh, a very successful plow salesman. So, what do you say? Be my new apprentice? I’ll teach you as we go.”

***

They traveled many days, during which his ma described all the rock formations in the distance. Finally, each of the distinctive pinnacles that his father had described in his tales of the Shining Mountains, came into clear view as they reached Easy Slope. First, he recognized the Lone Soldier to the east. It was the tallest pinnacle. Then, as they veered west, they approached the Kiss in the early afternoon, named because the two pinnacle rocks leaned on one another like lovers kissing.

When they found themselves on the path that led directly to their destination, a dozen student knights trotted up, each wearing a short sword on their hip over plain homespun tunics and breeches.

One lad announced with a confident smirk, “Hallo, Mister Bekh. We saw you approaching and came to meet you.”

“Hallo, hallo, boys. This is David Otual. Make him welcome, would you?”

The knights in training looked at David.

“Come,” The tallest one said, “Daikon Crispus is about to teach.”

Ma waved them off as she dismounted, tethered her horse, and went to sit in a spot that David thought she seemed familiar with. He didn’t mean to stare, but she must have felt it, as she looked up and gave him a reassuring smile and nod.

That’s when something touched his hand. David turned again to see the student that was now pulling at him, dragging him into the fray of other students.

Tall trees that grasped the rocky soil with fingerlike roots  and the air crisp with the scent of pine and sounds of wildlife surrounded them. He sat with the others on fallen logs pulled into a rough semi-circle. His gaze drifted to those who accompanied him. All their faces shown with rapt attention on one man, who stroked his flowing beard, and spoke in a measured tone.

 “Today, my young scholars, we begin delving into the secrets of the Writings.” His voice carried the weight of experience. His wrinkles demonstrated the mark of years spent studying ancient texts.

This must be Crispus.

Beside him an even older man, nodded in agreement, his eyes twinkling with enthusiasm. “Indeed, we shall uncover the wisdom of the prophets.”

And him, Daikon Baxter?

He scanned the crowd. There must have been thirty boys, all clad in simple tunics and rough trousers, listening intently, some with wide eyes and others in serious contemplation. Older boys and men in the blue-grey garb of the knights stood in the back monitoring their charges. This place, far from bustling towns and castles, was where David belonged now. Here, in the wilderness, he’d learn the deeper truths of their faith, leading to greater reliance upon the God of Truth.

After speaking of Paul’s understanding of the sacred secret, Crispus expounded on the life of King David, his namesake, so David was intrigued to learn all he could.

“David, young and brave, faced the giant Goliath with nothing but a sling and unwavering faith in the God of Truth,” Crispus recounted, whirling his hand in the air.

Baxter chimed in, “And it was through God’s grace that he became a great king. His meekness earned him the epithet, ‘a man after God’s own heart’ …”

The day stretched on, filled with lessons on history, theology, and virtue. Daikon Baxter outlined the history of the knights, from the First Knight’s meeting with King Weisheit almost one hundred and fifty years ago, up until now. Then Daikon Crispus explained the current arguments surrounding popular interpretations of some passages in the Writings. Lastly, he explored the virtues of good discourse amongst the followers of J’shua.

Crispus looked at each one of them. “Because we can no longer ask these writers of long ago what they meant, there will always be differences of opinion.”

[For there must be opinions among you, that those opinions which are approved may be made manifest among you.]

“Always remember, love must rule in our hearts, not pride or perfection.”

[Let love be without dissimulation.]

“This is the only way to walk upright with the God of Truth and His son J’shua Ha Mashiach.”

The midday meal came and went, and afterwards his ma took the time to observe him and his peers complete their practice exercises.

Time to make her proud.

Each fifth year was assigned three first year students to instruct in the basics. David followed their assigned leader, Jimmen, to a different area of the foothills. From where he stood, he could see six other groups.

“Step, parry, thrust. Step, parry, thrust—again,” the red-haired young man called to David and his other charges.

David blinked. Oh, right. He turned his attention back to Jimmen, nodding as he followed through with the first exercise, which was about stances and strength.

Along with him the other boys foreheads creased with determination, as they held their sword tightly; their master counting the rhythm, before—

“Rest,” the young man shouted.

Not that it was a long rest. Their next exercise involved Jimmen guiding them over many obstacles as they sprinted to the Lone Soldier and back several times. David could imagine his father with his long pale blond hair running along the ledges and leaping over crevasses.

When the sun began its descent toward the horizon, signaling the end of their schooling for the day, the other boys departed for their quarters in the caves, chattering about their newfound knowledge and skills.

David, on the other hand, ran to Ma, out of breath, but smiling. “Did you see me? My teacher said I did well. Do you think I did well?”

“I saw, and yes I’m very proud of you. Your father will be proud too when he hears word.” She squeezed his shoulders, looked him over in a way that made his chest swell, and said quietly, “I know you will do well here. But it is time. I must go.” She leaned closer. “I love you, my brave boy. I will return next moon.”

It felt so soon, too soon, but David didn’t want to let her down now. So, he let his voice tangle in her hair as he whispered, “I love you too, Ma.” Any louder and he’d feel less of a man as he bit his lip to keep the tears at bay. He wanted so badly to hug her. But he wouldn’t risk her cover. Only the old daikons knew who she really was.

“David! … David!”

Hearing his name being called, he glanced around. A few boys beckoned for him to follow.

 He tightened his lips into a stern line as he turned back to his Ma and said, “Thank you, Mister Bekh. Be safe.” Stepping back, he gave her a bow, watched as she returned a nod, and retreated down the hill. Out of sight. Out of his life again.

“David! … David! …” His new companions called to him again. He turned away from where his Ma had been, forcing a grin, hiding his pain.

Chapter 5

Owakar

Owakar relaxed back into the hand carved barber’s chair as a red-haired angel snipped at his brown locks. The one-chair barber shop was wedged between a gaming hall and a tavern so laughter, shouts, and muted arguments streamed from either side.

Waving the scissors this way and that, the stylist pouted as he trimmed an errant strand. “Sir Owakar, what do you have planned for the day?”

“Just the usual, Cranik, watching and writing, and more writing.” He wouldn’t say anything that might get back to the Warrior or some other disobedient brother.

As the Watcher over the Province of Lorness, he needed to look respectable. He wasn’t just a messenger any longer, scurrying about informing angels of orders, or providing humans with words of inspiration from J’shua Ha Mashiach. Now he had a more important position, managing guardians and reporting directly to J’shua so he kept his hair shoulder length as was common both here in the Celestial Sea and in the earthly realm of Lorness.

Cranik swiveled the chair a bit. His white tunic was snug across his broad chest and big hands danced gracefully to and fro like hummingbirds. “Hmm, I heard that as the people in the Density change, we in the Celestial Sea change with them.” He continued trimming with a snip here and a pass with his comb. Another snip there and a comb.

“I’ve heard that as well. But I haven’t been a Watcher very long so I do not see a pattern.”

“Hmm,” Cranik murmured again. “My friend thinks that even though most angels think humans merely an annoying reminder of the secret the God of Truth had kept, they are infatuated with everything human and imitate their ways. Like a moth to the flame, he says.”

“Perhaps that which they hate or fear, or admire, draws them.” Owakar trusted his creator, the God of Truth, so he neither hated nor feared them, but he too was besotted with those in his charge.

Outside glass broke. A loud crash caused Owakar and the red-head to turn. A crowd of guardians dragged a struggling messenger from the gaming room next door as a wicker basket flew through the air, impaled by a sword.

“Hey, let me go! I was just saying what I think,” the messenger cried.

One guardian, a burly angel, his muscles rippling as he gripped the messenger by the hair. “You were spreading discordant rumors about the trial of the Serpent; and the God of Truth and J’shua Ha Mashiach.”

“We’re free to state our opinions. Who are you to interfere?”

“I’ll tell you who I am. I’m the one that’s going to teach you to be more respectful,” the guardian spat.

One didn’t become a guardian if you were small and petite. And messengers tended to be trim and fast. The God of Truth loved individuality as much as he loved free will, which was the main cause of all this.

If we had only instincts like the animals, would it be better?

“It’s been unusually quiet recently. This is more typical of the Celestial Sea.” The red-head continued snipping.

In the Celestial Sea, every angel was a law unto themselves. All were free to state their thoughts. Arguments abounded and often fights broke out. Angels were quick to self-heal so there was no reason not to fight. Of course, within the bounds of the third heaven, God’s Seraphim, his Throne Warriors patrolled. There was very little disruption there. One of those would send anyone causing disorder into sheol, to the prison, to wait out their sentence. It was a gray, boring place. Like most prisons he supposed.

Owakar sat there watching as the guardian gave the vocal messenger a kick. After stumbling a few steps, the bruised angel ran off. The guardians went back inside and the angels along the street went back to enjoying themselves.

Everyone had an opinion about the trial of the Serpent. No one knew how much longer the pretrial motions would take. It could take yet another millennium. Everyday more angels were deposed by one side or the other. Even those loyal to the God of Truth and his son J’shua were unsettled by the upcoming addition of humans into their society. It was bad enough when there were only two of them in the garden of God. Now there were a four hundred fifty million, two hundred twenty-eight thousand, three hundred and one that could be brought in. He looked at the luach again, make that, and three. Would all of them be allowed in the renewed heaven and earth? We’ll be overrun and become the minority. But he would never vocalize that.

It seemed everyone’s unease was easily pricked by the Serpent’s followers. Though locked away until the trial, he still sowed chaos in the Celestial Sea and in the earth, the Density, through his loyal followers.

Chaos abounded in both places, that’s why the second heaven was called the Celestial Sea. Just as in the realm of humanity, free will and selfish tendencies caused the angelic society to be structured around individual autonomy rather than collective harmony. Each angel often prioritized their own desires and goals over communal well-being. The hierarchy was based on power, influence, and accomplishment. Angels competed for status, resources, and dominance. Without a shared mission or goal, many pursued only personal pleasure. Even the best of them could be tempted.

This minor brawl was not his affair. Sighing, Owakar looked in the mirror. “Wonderful! I look spectacular. Well done, Cranik. I will send my friend Alocrin to see you. He’s looking a little rough these days.”

“Thank you, Owakar. Be well!”

As he left the barber shop, the little bell over the door tinkled in his wake.

Owakar was a Watcher now and had responsibilities in the Density, in the Province of Lorness. When J’shua spoke to him today, he gave him leave to appoint assistants so that he could provide better overwatch for the Otuals. He wondered about the way adversity had sent the four family members in different directions, only one of which was predictable. Yes, these humans were very surprising. He never knew what they would do next.

It was easier for him to keep events straight if he used the calendar of Freislicht, rather than the heavenly reckoning of time. Today was the last half-moon of early autumn in the thirty-third year of the Reign of King Edal. The youngest, Sarah, now eight years old, had sparked an ember of seeking in a boy that was so repressed he rarely had a thought of his own.

Owakar had prayed for the boy ever since after learning of his suffering at the hands of his lord, Earl Gaelib Melazera. Sarah had been the perfect emissary to him. Only the wise God of Truth could have orchestrated it. He had to giggle whenever he thought of how the natural expression of her character had affected the young soldier.

The luach warmed in his pocket and he took it out. He smiled as he read it, ever so happy to have input from the Book of Life always nearby. He’d had no idea how much time it took to watch and record. Nor the importance of the evidence a watcher collects. The device glowed and chirped. More passages of the Book of Life appeared.

[But as for you, ye thought evil against me; but the God of Truth meant it unto good, to bring to pass, as it is this day, to save much people alive.]

[When the enemy shall come in like a flood, the Spirit of the God of Truth shall lift up a standard against him.]

They always set his mind to racing to correlate the passage with something happening or that he had seen or done. After much pondering, and sometimes much time passing, a realization would dawn.

With a whistle the luach alerted him that Rebekah rode into Lorness from the river road so Owakar sat on his favorite bench, watching her and began writing in the luach. Rebekah Otual had woven her way into communities all over Freislicht. When she was outside his jurisdiction of Lorness Province, Owakar relied on entries in the luach from his assistants or other watchers.

Owakar had originally scoffed at her secret group, Licht Gegen… He shook his head. The name still made him laugh. It meant ‘light against.’ That wasn’t even a complete thought. He had to admit they did clever work.

Because she prayed about everything, he could add all this evidence into the luach, to hold against the Serpent at his trial.

Her actions in Lorness four years ago had caused far reaching effects when she’d prayed and sang spiritual songs in the cave in the Bloody Rocks. She was spontaneous. He would not underestimate her again. If the Warrior knew she had done it, he would attack her, so Owakar followed her movements closely, shielding her from the notice of demons.

As Licht Gegen grew, this would become more and more difficult.

Her cover as a traveling plow merchant was remarkably successful. She was growing wealthy. Yet, in order to gather intelligence and pass secret messages, she needed to move about inconspicuously, so she changed nothing. Instead, she diverted all her profits into the organization.

She again acquired two young assistants; orphans raised by members of Licht Gegen. Owakar chuckled when she babied them, serving them their meals and making sure they were well rested. She had difficulty treating them like an unrelated man would. She was still a mother at heart.

Rebekah

Rebekah perceived in the spirit that this cottage was a circle meeting place. She felt the peace of J’shua settle like a blanket over her. There were many stools set about the perimeter of the barn.

The farmer looked over the drawings she’d presented. “I can see that this design would make the work much easier. I don’t know why I never thought of adding a wheel. I’ll take one.”

“Thank you, sir. You will not be disappointed.”

As she wrote up the order she said, “I was disturbed to see soldiers take an orphan into custody in Dunis Glen. Do you have a problem with orphans here in Lorness?”

The man studied her for a moment, perhaps praying for wisdom as he crafted his answer. He sighed. “Yes, but not in the way you might think. I believe they are sold into slavery—or worse.”

“Or worse?”

“There are rumors of child sacrifice. The old gods are worshipped by some wealthy people. Children have disappeared.”

“Oh my. Do you have a circle?”

Again, the man paused. Perhaps praying. “Yes, sir. But we don’t know how to stop it.”

Rebekah placed her hand on his shoulder. “I’ve heard of a group called Licht Gegen that is attempting to stop the growing darkness. They follow J’shua. Would you like to meet with them?

“Yes sir. My cousin mentioned that name, but he didn’t know how to find them.”

“It may take some time before they reach out. But I will give my friend your name. When does your circle meet?”

Whenever someone responded positively to her statements of concern for orphans and the darkness spreading across the land, she proposed that they join Licht Gegen. However, those who claimed orphans were the problem of the local lord or that they hadn’t noticed any growing blight. These she blessed with her silence.

In response to her visits, many circles were taking up weapons, and training, if they had someone to teach them. Others formed teams to walk their villages at night, keeping watch. Most agreed that orphans should be saved from the streets. Soldiers in these places could no longer push children into cages without someone calling the child by a name and acting like they were a known relative. These circles actively took the orphans in.

Licht Gegen had decided early on that the families that took in orphans would do the best they could for them. This included teaching them all to read, the brightest to write, and placing as many as possible in apprenticeships. If an orphan was eleven years old and wished it, they delivered them to the Knights’ School hidden in the Shining Mountains.

The sheltered plateau between the two greatest peaks protected it from the harsh weather and fostered the growth of lower elevation edible plants. That is where the teachers and students dwelled since their school was burned down.

Each of Licht Gegen’s leaders knew which inn Rebekah stayed in nearest them, but not her schedule. Only that they expected her to ride down the main road with a wagon full of plows some time each moon.

Only the leader or daikon of a circle knew a contact in Licht Gegen. This was for everyone’s protection. Only the original members knew the scope of the organization. And even they knew few names.

On Rebekah’s last visit with her “kinsman,” Commander Taelor, he revealed that all the heralds were loyal to the king. There were safeguards in place to prevent local lords from controlling them.

She gradually met with each herald as she traveled from town to town, bringing them into Licht Gegen. Thus, the various circle leaders could now take a letter to their local herald and send it to another herald where that leader could retrieve it. Each letter from a founding member bore a wax seal imprinted with an aspen tree inside a circle. This was created by the wooden coins that Charles had given each when they left the Frei Forest community years ago. Since then, Charles made one as each new leader was chosen by Licht Gegen. This gave the group an alternative communication system, allowing Rebekah to spend more of her time gathering information.

She still rode her circuit, but she stayed longer in each town, getting to know people better. She was now very comfortable as Tommas Bekh, the plow salesman. And she often heard about debt collections or survivors who had returned home.

Chapter 6

Sarah

Ever since the duchess had chosen her ma as the family’s midwife, Sarah and her adoptive mother, Kennah Decker, had been frequent guests at Locke Castle. Matylda, the old midwife, recommended Ma to the duchess and they had come to an agreement. Kennah would stay for the two moons surrounding the time of confinement of any of the duchess’ sisters, daughters, or nieces and Sarah would learn to be a lady, to increase her possibilities for a good marriage. But they returned to their village, Carington, at other times.

Sarah peeled open her eyes as the morning sun winked at her from behind a blanket of pink clouds. Ma had already risen and started a fire that crackled under the blackened cookpot. Sarah groaned, rolled over and covered her head with her cloak when she heard Benjamin laughing amidst the bursting pinecones he tossed into the fire. It was always her task to watch him.

It wasn’t that Ma didn’t discipline him, she did, but ever since her husband Shaun went to South Fort to trade and didn’t return, she’d often ignored him, staring off at nothing. As the weeks passed, they had less hope that he was just delayed. There were many hazards on the frontier.

Now Sarah felt guilty and couldn’t go back to sleep. She rose and distracted Benj by looking at a praying mantis creeping in a bush. Ma thanked her with her eyes and a nod.

They’d been in Lexandria for three moons attending to four Locke women. The last had given birth a moon ago and finally healed. She, Ma, and four-year-old Benjamin would arrive home in Carington today.

Her face could not hold a bigger smile as they drew close. Sarah planned to visit all her old friends and learn all she had missed while she’d been away.

Ma took the bag of flour inside the cottage and started a fire. She handed Benj a bag he could carry and she brought in their clothes. As soon as the wagon was unloaded, Sarah ran inside to get her practice sword.

“Take Benjamin with you. I have many visits to make. With so much to do, it will help me if he is not underfoot.”

Sarah scowled. “Yes, Ma.” Then turning to the four-year-old, she said happily, “Come on Benjamin. You can be the horse!”

Ma handed her a carefully tied bundle, the aroma of warm honey cakes tickled her nose.

“Ney. Ney.” the small boy began to say as he ran after her.

Ma waved. “Be back by mid-day. There are many things to prepare before you move to the castle.”

“I will, Ma.” Sarah said as she took Benjamin’s hand and skipped away, brandishing her wooden sword.

She was eight years old when the duchess had decided that Sarah should be raised amongst the Lockes. Now she was ten. Her adoptive mother, Kennah, would also stay in Lexandria attending to the Locke women, when they were nearing their expected confinement. Otherwise, she and her ma returned to the village to care for the mothers of Carington.

They had repeatedly been in Lexandria for a moon or two at a time, returning to the village to help with births back home. Sarah often missed events at Locke Castle that she was expected to participate in, so the duchess told her ma in frustration, “It’s been two years. You must leave Sarah in Lexandria to keep her mind on learning to become a lady. I will speak with Gregory. He has not yet made her his ward, but he will, if I push him to make a decision.”

Sarah’s absence would also force ma’s apprentices to feel the weight of their calling. Sarah often knew what her ma needed before she asked, which mystified the apprentices.

Sarah bit her lip. What would it be like when her ma went home and she remained at Locke Castle? Would the duchess still treat her well? Some people change when they are alone with you.

This visit, she would say a long goodbye to Ned and all her other friends. Kennah would continue to travel back and forth to Carington relying on the help of two apprentice midwives. Sarah would care for the common complaints of the Locke women, such as nausea, headaches, and back pain with herbs and therapies, whenever her mother was away. This would be the last time Sarah would go to Carington for a long while.

Ned dashed out the door, sword in hand. He must have been watching for her. “The tree?”

Sarah nodded eagerly. “Yes, the castle needs our protection, King Ned!”

Sarah scampered into the highest branches like a squirrel. From the treetop castle, she was the Knight of J’shua, Sir Sarahad, scanning the horizon from the tower, seeking signs of the approaching horde.

When she saw them, she yelled, her gleaming sword pointing to the heavens. “I’ll protect the people!”

The door sprang open, and three ugly hordes-men stormed in. Their toothless sneers stretched across pock-marked faces that were half-hidden by stringy black hair.

“Alas, evildoers. You’ll not harm anyone here. I shall cut you down.” She aimed her sword at the attackers. “Prepare to sleep until you meet the God of Truth.”

The horde growled and lunged. Sir Sarahad danced amongst them with precise strikes and parries. The horde poked their crude spears at her as they retreated in fear. Dealing them each a last thrust, they fell from the tower with blood-curdling screams. Having vanquished them, the knight lifted the sword again. “Long live the king!”

Ned’s squeaky voice called from the royal garden below. “Sarah, you said I could be the knight this time. You should be the queen, because Benjamin wants to be the baby, not a horse.”

“Not a horse!” Benjamin declared, “I’m the baby!”

“I’m coming, Ned. Benj, you wanted to be the horse.” Sarah deftly climbed down the tall oak, hopping from the lowest branch. Her belted tunic flapped as she landed in a squat. She picked up Benjamin and cradled him in her arms, rocking him back and forth.

“Wah!” Benjamin smiled. “I wanna cake.”

“You are one heavy baby.” She set him down and untied the package of honey cakes.

Ned huffed and sat in the grass against the tree, stretching out. “Sarah, let’s go fish in the river.”

She handed him a cake. Then, barely snagging Benjamin, who was about to run off, by the sleeve of his dirty tunic, she gave him a cake too. “I can’t. I have to watch Benjamin until Ma returns. I should go home. I still have chores to finish.”

“Yeah, me too,” Ned said with a frown.

Benjamin turned to them with a toothy grin, his face covered in crumbs.

***

It was time, the next Locke baby was expected in four weeks, so they returned to Lexandria. After two moons in Carington, Sarah cried as they rode away. Her face collapsed as she waved goodbye to Ned who stood frowning with his wooden sword raised in the air until he disappeared behind the trees.

She loved the village and all her friends, especially Ned. This afternoon he had parried her blows valiantly and she his, as they danced around the yard in a fierce battle, even jumping from log to log on the woodpile. He was her best friend.

Ma patted her back, but she barely noticed. “You will see him again. The time will pass quickly. I will take him letters and return with what he sends.”

“Oh, would you, ma?” Sarah swiped her eyes with the back of her hand, already thinking of what she could write. He always asked questions about Locke Castle and the town of Lexandria. She would give him a full report of all that she experienced. “I will need paper and ink. Do you suppose the duchess would give me some?”

“We will ask as soon as we see her.”

Sarah sighed with relief, turning her thoughts to her future in Lexandria. In Lexandria, she had Melyssa.

***

The birth room was warm and dark, lit with candles. Clary sage and lavender oil filled the air, while the prayer-like low moans of the mother kept time. Each of the women whispered their encouragements as the mother continued the inner work.

Matylda toddled about with a dark, knobby cane. She wore a deep mahogany-colored shift and muslin apron as all the midwives did. She could no longer kneel and lift as a midwife must. Ma explained that the duchess had been content with apprentices that Matylda supervised, but they lacked confidence and that made the duchess nervous. That’s why she chose Kennah to succeed her at Locke Castle.

Now, the duke’s youngest sister was finally delivered of a baby girl, the birth being very overdue. The baby girl came out all red and wrinkled, the size of a three-month-old. The placenta was white, like cooked fish. Sarah poked it and whispered to her ma, “It feels like leather.”

Her ma nodded, examining it. “That is a good observation, Sarah. It is a miracle of God that the child was born alive. You are a reliable assistant.” Kennah gave her shoulder a squeeze.

Matylda hobbled over, smiling. She patted Sarah’s head and said, “You did fine work tonight. Both of you. I can rest easy. All my girls will be in capable hands, when I am gone.”

Ma gave Matylda a sad smile.

***

A few weeks later, there was a party to celebrate the new Locke daughter. Many relatives from near and far were visiting. Within the castle’s grand halls, laughter echoed as the duchess welcomed guests to a lavish reception.

Sarah, wide eyed, her heart full of wonder, stood by her mother’s side, awestruck by the splendor and pageantry. Ladies approached and curtseyed, some dressed in exotic, bright colored silks and others in simple linen shifts. The latter were commoners, like her friends back home, which made her feel more comfortable.

She had barely learned the names of all the usual family and staff, so this great influx caused her to give up the mental exercise and simply enjoy the spectacle before her. Many ladies flocked about her mother, babbling about the difficult birth.

Sarah looked down at her fingernails. Oh, no! She forgot to scrub them after climbing trees in the garden. She held her hands clasped so that the dirt was hidden. As soon as the receiving line finished, she would find water and a brush.

Sarah’s gaze fell upon Melyssa, the duchess’ young daughter, who ambled toward her with a warm smile. Her new friend was kind and a vision of grace that made her less homesick.

“Hallo, Sarah!” Melyssa greeted, her voice musical like the tinkling of bells. “Would you like to join me for some tea?”

Sarah’s heart soared at the invitation. She nodded eagerly, her cheeks flushing with excitement as she followed Melyssa to a cozy alcove adorned with plush cushions and delicate lace curtains.

“Melyssa, I need water,” she said as she showed her the dirt under her nails.

“This is easily mended.” Melyssa turned to a servant boy that had followed her. “Bring us water and a nail brush.” Melyssa pointed to a chair beside a table full of rich cakes and colorful fruit. Sarah sat.

When the boy returned, he bowed and motioned for Sarah to place her hands into the bowl of warm water. He proceeded to take each finger in turn and gently brush away the dirt.

To have someone else do this task felt pleasing, but strangely wrong. Self-conscious, she looked at Melyssa, “May I do it myself?”

Melyssa nodded and waved the boy away. He backed up several paces to wait for another command.

Seated at the small table, Melyssa served Sarah a sweet cake and the boy poured fragrant tea into a cup. Sarah marveled at the exquisite porcelain cups and silver platters, feeling as though she had stepped into a fairy tale.

As they sipped their tea and nibbled on the sweet treats, Sarah and Melyssa told stories and giggled. Their friendship had blossomed over the last year. Tomorrow, Sarah would return to Carington for the last time to pack up all her things and live permanently at Locke Castle.

“Sarah, what is it like in the village?” Melyssa asked, her eyes alight with curiosity.

“Everything is simple and plain but full of warmth and love,” Sarah replied, her voice soft. “We may not have grand feasts or fancy gowns, but we have each other, and that is all that matters. We all have many chores to do that fill the time. We often eat meals together outside, when the weather is warm.”

Melyssa listened intently. Despite their different upbringings, Sarah felt drawn to her gentle spirit and genuine kindness. She told Melyssa of the chickens, each of whom she had named, and Ned, her best friend. He was the one she missed most of all.

The afternoon sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the castle grounds, as Sarah and Melyssa exchanged promises of friendship. Would they be friends forever?

Ma would leave in a few days, without her. She bit her lip and fretted about the new situation. But she remembered a passage of the Writings.

[And we know that all things work together for good to them that love the God of Truth, to them who are called according to his purpose.]

J’shua, That doesn’t mean I will like it.

***

Charged with Sarah’s education in the ways of the noble class, Melyssa was a constant companion. They were two peas in a pod, inseparable, doing everything Melyssa had to do. Usually she didn’t mind, for it was great fun. Melyssa did what her mother or the governess told her, so her days were filled with reading books and scrolls about historical events or letters written by famous Lockes. Both she and Melyssa would be tested on every book in their library. There was a different tutor for each subject.

Now that she was settled, she was learning to play the flute, which made her happy because it fit in the pocket of her cloak or her apron so she could take it anywhere. It was smaller than her sword. It was a great comfort when she traveled with the Lockes throughout Lexandria.

The ladies had all taught her to dance. It was wonderful to follow along with Melyssa as her partner. She noticed as she learned the Locke family tree, that every noble line contained Locke daughters, so Lockes were everywhere. However, the Lockes had trouble producing boys so during celebrations she would pair up with a servant boy.

Melyssa was the youngest at ten years old, like Sarah. Her older siblings were each two years apart, Saryssa, Deryca, Rodyn, Neryssa, Lyrena, and Danyth. Rodyn was sixteen. Danyth was twenty-two, the oldest boy and the heir.

Today was Meeting Day, when the duchess taught her how to manage a large household. It happened on the first day of every week; the new moon, the first half-moon, the full moon, and the last half-moon. These mornings, every department head in the castle reported. It was very boring. If she let her imagination run, insects would be brownies or selkies come to seek a boon. Or the cook might be making potions written in ancient runes.

After breakfast, the duchess took Sarah’s hand. “Good morning, my dear. Ready for our meeting?”

Sarah curtseyed. “Yes, Your Grace.” Sarah followed her a few steps behind, walk, skip, wait, trying hard to match her elegant gait. All the department heads waited by the door to her office. The cook was first in line.

“Come in, Betess. How goes the kitchen?”

Sarah listened closely, so that she could answer all the duchess’ questions afterward. The kitchen was the best run of all, because the cook had a system. She was strict. Mistakes in the kitchen could cause illness, a fire, or any number of other problems for the whole castle. The cook was always gregarious. Today she complained cheerfully, “The grain I received last week was not dried properly, so it had sprouted, but not to worry, I made crackers with all of it, to not waste it.”

The duchess sighed. “Very well, Betess. That was good thinking. Procure grain from a few new sources, so we’ll have bread while we investigate the problem. Thank you. If that is all, you are dismissed.”

The gardener approached with his floppy wool hat in his hands. His leathery, tanned face held deep furrows over bright blue eyes.

Ellyth smiled warmly. “How are you, Joff? Is your leg mended? I don’t see a limp anymore.”

Sarah wanted so badly to ask how he had hurt his leg, but she stopped herself.

“I am whole again, Your Grace. Thank you for asking. I already warned the cook that the beans are flowering already, so to expect an early harvest.” The man glanced at the door to make sure Betess was gone. “She doesn’t like it when she has to change her plans. I told her, I’d very much like to control the growing things, but I haven’t managed it yet.” He chuckled nervously. “I’ve been seeing loopers, you know, inchworms on the cabbage so I was hoping you’d ask the children to help with a green caterpillar picking in the morning.”

He had the hardest job, because so many things affected his chores—storms, heat, drought, and bugs.

The duchess laughed, “Oh, they will enjoy that.” Ellyth winked at Sarah. “We will invite all the cousins, too. Sunrise, Joff? In the North Field?”

“Yes, Your Grace, that will be a good time to start. Thank you.” Joff bowed. When he left, all the lines in his face had relaxed.

Turning to Sarah, the duchess said, “Have you ever picked caterpillars off leaves in the garden?”

“Oh, yes, Your Grace, more times than I can remember. Can Melyssa and I help?”

“Of course. We’ll make it a competition. The children will all have a reward. And those that gather the most, a prize.”

Sarah wondered what the prize might be.

Next to enter was the housekeeper, Gretchin. “Good morning, Your Grace.” She curtseyed, but didn’t hesitate. “A few blankets were found to be moth eaten. I sent them to the stable. Lyster thought he could use them. We are washing all the others in the cabinet.”

Ellyth nodded. “Good.”

“One of the maids reported that Rodyn didn’t sleep in his bed two nights ago. You’ll have to watch that one. She thinks he might have a miss he’s seeing in town. I’m just saying what I heard. And I knew you would want to know.”

“Thank you, Gretchin, I do. Whether he’s up to no good or not, I will speak to him.”

“There’s also talk of a romance blooming between Lyster’s stable boy and the new kitchen maid.”

“I will look into that as well.” Ellyth chuckled. “Ah, young love. Let them have their secret for now. But keep an eye on them. Anything else?”

“No, Your Grace.”

“Very well, my dear. Thank you for your diligence. Until next week then.”

Once the others were interviewed, the master of the wardrobe, the steward, the groundskeeper, the duchess asked Sarah what she understood.

She did her best to quote them each or at least say something about what each of them said. Every week it was something different. One time the cook mentioned the quality of the food, or the fruit, another the greens, or the rabbits. It was always something new. Then the gardener talked mostly about weather and bugs. However, the housekeeper was a relief, for she told all the gossip, which was very entertaining and informative. The duchess never scolded her, for it was important to know the undercurrents in her home.

It is much harder to be a noble lady than pretending to be one.

***

The sun cast its golden rays through the eastern windows of Locke Castle, bathing its ancient walls in a warm glow. Sarah ran down the corridor, her wooden practice sword raised over her head. Melyssa ran two steps behind with a candlestick thrust out before her. Squealing servants careened out of their way as the two girls burst into the great hall with a roar, brandishing their fearsome weapons.

They had fought battles every day to retake the castle from barbarians.

Duke Gregory Locke and his officials looked up in surprise. The duke turned toward the doorway and said with a twinkle in his eye. “Brave warriors of Lexandria, you have saved us! Please go to the kitchen for your reward.”

Sarah thrust her sword in the sash tied around her waist and bowed low. As she rose, she said, “Thank you my lord. You are most gracious. We live to serve.”

Melyssa bounced on her toes. Then she gave a curtsy “Thank you, Father.” Then she handed her candlestick to a porter who frowned and scoured the room with his eyes for a place to put it down.

To a servant, the duke said, “Follow them and give them anything they want.” The duke returned to his discussions.

The two girls looked at each other and took off, the servant huffing to keep up.

ACT I - Five Years Pass

Chapter 7 - 37th year - 1704

Owakar

Owakar skimmed the luach for updates as he recalled the past five years. Biting his lip, he sent a message to his mentor, Alocrin, and shoved the luach back in his tunic. He left the Celestial Sea and materialized near the Lion and Tiger Inn. He whistled a local tune as he entered.

He looked from his empty cup to the full one that waited for his friend. Alocrin was late. He was late a lot.

Just as he was about to take the other cup, Alocrin came through the door.

“Where have you been?” Owakar said sour-faced, arms crossed.

Alocrin’s face fell. “I’m sorry, Owakar, I’ve had a difficult thing to do. I came as soon as I could get away.” His eyes pleaded.

Owakar’s expression softened. “I know, you must have much more difficult tasks than I, a mere beginner at this management stuff.” He sighed. “I don’t suppose you can tell me what J’shua’s got you up to?”

Alocrin shook his head. “No, sorry O, don’t ask.”

“Well, I’ve been studying some old records. Jonathan Otual has repeatedly evaded Earl Melazera’s soldiers who pursue him every time he enters Freislicht. Even now he follows the call of the spirit into the surrounding countryside to spread the word of the God of Truth.” Owakar paused. “I want to help him. Can I help him?”

“Of course,” Alocrin answered, “You are helping him. You help him, every time you do your duty. Remember, …all things work together…”

“Oh, right.” Owakar chuckled.

Alocrin smiled. “The Writings are not just for them. We are the children of the God of Truth as well.”

“Jonathan visited the Knights’ School and learned that his wife was still alive, but on a mission of her own. The man has no idea what that might be, her letter gave him no details, but he trusts she is led by the spirit of God. He left a letter with Crispus for her, before setting out for Tarinland.” Owakar paused again as one of the serving girls brought two steaming bowls. “I wonder what the God of Truth might be working on there.”

Alocrin inhaled loudly as he picked up the spoon. “Something good, I am sure. What of Rebekah, that remarkable lady?” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Is she still masquerading as a man, in order to unearth the hidden plans of evil men and spirits in Freislicht?” He slurped the savory stew.

“Oh, yes. Initially, she’d only intended to find her daughter, but upon realizing that there was a greater evil growing in the country, she accepted the call of J’shua to spy out the evil ones and recruit others who wish to end the growing blight upon the good people of Freislicht.”

“And what of the daughter?” Alocrin stopped, his dripping spoon hovering between the bowl and his lips. “Still missing?”

“Yes. But I think not missing, hidden.”

Alocrin looked surprised. “Hidden?”

“Yes, hidden. J’shua has hidden her from everyone. All the luach tells me is that she is safe and well.”

“Hmm. You may be right. This is exciting. You are in the middle of a great thing.”

“Perhaps, but I feel I’m in over my head. I am frozen, unsure of what to do. What not to do.”

“Trust Him, Owakar. You’re a good son. Act with love. You’ll see. It will work out.” Alocrin took a few more bites. “And what of the son?”

“David Otual has finished his apprenticeship as a horse breeder and is now in his last year of training to become a Knight of J’shua like his father. So far the group in the Shining Mountains is untainted by a lust for superiority and control. I am impressed by them.”

Alocrin nodded. “It seems inevitable that all organizations eventually fall to such, in the end. Some groups merely hold to their good intentions for a year. Others for decades. But this group has maintained their simplicity and humbleness for one hundred and fifty years. Their oldest and wisest daikons have managed to avoid usurping God as the overseers of the young knights they teach. They submit to God and each other in daily study of the Writings, manifestation of the gift, abundant sharing of their temporal things, bearing witness of truth, and in fellowship. It is truly remarkable. But it won’t last. Not unless future leaders are as humble and wise as the two old knights, Daikon Theodomo Crispus and Daikon Sylvanus Baxter. Only time will tell.”

Owakar felt so much better after spending time with Alocrin. As they left, he tossed an extra coin to the serving girl with the bright red curls, who caught it easily and curtseyed.

“Thank you, sir!” she said and ran off.

David

David shifted on the cold rock, observing his students, three first-years. They had been his primary focus for almost a year now. He had first put them through their paces on the Easy Slope, pointing out all the crevasses and slippery ledges. Next, he taught them how to read the Writings, which were written in an uncommon hand when they were translated hundreds of years ago. He copied the way his father had taught him. It still made him homesick, even though he’d overcome feeling his family’s absence years before.

He was proud of these boys. They would become second-years tomorrow and he would graduate. Finally, he’d be sent out as a knight. Then he could search for Sarah. His father hadn’t found her, neither had his mother. He sighed. He was seventeen, so Sarah had to be fourteen now. If she is alive. He vacillated between imagining her happily playing with children in some village and peacefully sleeping, awaiting J’shua Ha Mashiach’s call. He refused to think of any alternatives.

“Again,” he called to his charges.

The three boys rolled their eyes and groaned, but began again.

“Step, parry, thrust. Step, parry, thrust,”

Was I this annoying at their age? Probably so.

“Philip, take a bigger step. It does no good to take a step if you don’t gain ground.”

After a time, David stood. “That’s enough. Ten laps from here to Lone Soldier, the Kiss, and back. Go.”

They took off up the Easy Slope. On the seventh lap, as they came from behind the last rock formation, Philip was the first, Atik next, and Barden last. They were good boys and he’d grown close to them.

He shifted on the rock again as he thought about his father’s last letter. Daikon Crispus gave it to him by the fire last night. It was three weeks old and vague as usual. His father was very careful about sending letters sending through several couriers. Reading between the lines, David was reassured that his father was eating and sleeping well and still navigating in the free world.

Dear son,

God bless you in the name of J’shua Ha Mashiach. By God’s grace and his son’s sacrifice, I am whole. He has given me a plenteous bounty and warm nights of sleep. I have seen vultures, but no biting insects have taken hold of me. I am surrounded by goodness and walk the path he sets before me.

I am proud of you and long to walk north with you soon. The clans greet you. Many towns and villages will welcome you. Stand in the Writings, as I know you will.

In the light of J’shua,

Father

Focusing on the words and phrases, he decoded his father’s message. I am whole—He was healthy and unharmed. Plenteous bounty and warm nights of sleep—He hasn’t gone hungry and has shelter. Vultures—bounty hunters or soldiers have tracked him, but they’ve not taken hold—he’s evaded them. The ‘clans’ represent Mestelina, ‘greet you’ means he’s already been there, and ‘towns and villages’ mean Tarinland, while ‘welcome’ means he’s going there. Walk north with you means he’s going to Esthlanis after that.

He might be below me in the forest right now, on his way east from Mestelina. He sighed.

His mother, rather Tommas Bekh, came to the mountain every three- or four-moons bringing supplies to the Knights’ School and sometimes new students. Still dressed as a man. She had not ferreted out what happened to Sarah. His mother bore it with grace and focused on her work, mostly. She reminded him again that he would be out in the world soon and must use wisdom when he chose a wife. He chuckled. He really didn’t think that would happen anytime soon. He had much more important things to plan—his first mission as a Knight of J’shua and which of his fellows would accompany him.

His boys came out from behind Lone Soldier on their final lap. They no longer laughed, but they were still keeping a good pace and they had stayed together as they were taught.

They will do well. They won’t falter.

As the sun struck Lone Soldier, casting a long shadow that pointed toward Tarinland, they ran up huffing loudly.

“Are you excited about graduation tomorrow?” Philip asked, as he hunched over, catching his breath.

David smiled as the other two collapsed to the moss-covered ledge. “Yes. I am looking forward to traveling as my father does. I grew up on stories of his exploits. He was the first to trade with the Mestels, when there were no roads in the west.”

“So, he’s still free?” Atik said as he readjusted his sword on his belt.

David frowned. “Who told you he was being sought?”

“Everyone knows that. We get the gossip from a third year that works in the kitchen. Whenever someone visits, he listens.”

“Hmph. You may be better informed than me. Last I heard he was still free. Though he’s had some close calls. I pray every day that J’shua does not send him to stand before those who hunt him.”

No one said anything for a moment, then, Barden, who was the quiet one said, “Do you know where you’ll be sent?”

David beamed, stood, brushing off his breeches. “Mestelina. I’m going to stop a war.”