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Distant Prospects

Jutland Mountain, Gade-Grand

I get a whole planet to more or less myself and I still can’t find anything, Soren Grand thinks to himself with a soft chuckle. Shaking his head, he looks down at the old gold pan in his hands.

The pan, like a lot of the things that Soren owned, came from those who came before him. His boots came from his father. His grandfather was the one who first wore his watch. The gold pan? That came from some great grandfather back quite a few generations. It is one of the steel pans that were used in the American West back four hundred or so years.

But, if Soren learned anything from his family, it was that things lasted a whole lot longer when they were treated well.

Sighing, Soren looks past his pan at his bare feet. In the effort to help his boots, he never wore them in the water. Turning to his left, Soren confirms that the boots are still laying on a boulder along the side of the river right beside his balled up woolen socks.

“Maybe it’s high time my family found a new line of work,” Soren mutters to himself as he looks back at his pan and continues swirling around the materials in his pan.

Through all the generations, his family had likely gathered no more than a few kilos of gold.

That much gold might sound like a lot to someone who didn’t know much about gold prospecting but stretched over nearly half a millennium and that figure seemed quite depressing.

At this point, Soren can’t help but feel like his family continued their prospecting out of nothing but spite.

Either that, or they knew that it was impossible to try forever and come up with absolutely nothing this long.

At some point, something would have to give. Either there wouldn’t be an heir to the Grand family, or they would strike it rich. There was no in between.

So, they waited.

For generations.

And generations.

And generations.

Sure, they found some gold, but any oaf who tried their hand at prospecting could find gold. Everyone knows that there’s gold everywhere.

The only trouble is finding a place that has enough gold to make it worthwhile to invest your whole life digging.

“Please, God, let me be the one,” Soren whispers a prayer as he walks off some of the larger and lighter stones out of his pan, “If you let me be the one, I’ll do anything. I’ll build hospitals. Churches. I’ll pay for a cathedral to be built! Just give me this!”

A few more seconds pass and Soren is walking off the final bit of ‘blondes’, as prospectors called them. Most people would just acknowledge this sand as light brown.

Walking back to the shore of the river he is on with the remaining black sands that he had been panning out, Soren purses his lips and offers up a few more pleading prayers. And, when those prayers finish out, he squats down in a spot on the river where the water is a little calmer.

Taking his time, he swirls the materials around in his pan, he taps away at the pan’s sides and top, and he eventually looks at the results of his work.

Three ‘colors’.

Three? Really? Is this some kind of joke? Soren thinks bitterly as he carefully gathers his very meagre findings. Even though it wasn’t much, Soren knew enough to save everything he could get his hands on.

Everything added up to something.

Eventually.

Shaking his head, Soren quickly pans through the concentrates in his pan once more and he finds one more flake of gold and a speck of silver as well.

Shaking his head, he rinses out his pan and tosses it to the shore.

Chuckling, Soren looks up at the sky and lets out a joking prayer, “Well, I guess that’s a hard no, then. Huh, God?”

Smirking, Soren shakes his head and looks back own to his feet. If it weren’t for everything else that he had been through in life, he would have given up on a lot of things by now.

The colonizing of this planet.

His little homestead.

His long-distance relationship with his sweetheart back home.

His prospecting.

His God.

If it weren’t for what he had already seen, heard, and felt, he wouldn’t have anything to live for.

“I know, I know, keep going,” Soren nods along as he feels a little God-nudge. That same nudge had saved his life on more than one occasion, and it had guided him to this particular world when he was given the opportunity to colonize a planet for the Dawn Royals.

Soren starts walking back to his boots when he freezes.

Something, namely that God-nudge that he had grown used to, was making him second guess quitting on this particular spot.

Looking around, Soren rakes his memory for any reason why this spot might look familiar.

Anything.

A good three minutes pass before an inkling of a memory of a vision from decades ago comes to the surface. The memory is foggy from its age, but it seems to fit this particular scene.

The only issue is that there was a mineshaft in the vision.

A mineshaft located right near where Soren had tossed his pan.

His brows furrowed, Soren carefully picks his way over the boulders in the river over to where the pan had landed. As he makes his way over, he takes in the stones around him.

As far as he can tell, there is nothing about the geology that should indicate that there is gold, or anything else, in the mountainside he is approaching, but he had been surprised many times before.

Shrugging, Soren reminds himself that he had very little to lose at this point.

So what if he wasted a month poking around at a potentially barren rock? He had already wasted at least a year and had all of a few dozen grams of gold to show for it.  This river was the best producing one he had come across to date.

Swallowing, Soren reaches the beach of the river, and he removes his hat. Something about everything around him made him feel like it wasn’t proper to wear a hat here.

Running a wet hand through his greasy hair, Soren lets out a long, low whistle.

“Well, there’s no use standing here, might as well figure out what’s the big deal,” Soren says, reminding himself of why he was here. Approaching his pan, he continues scanning the stones for any signs of anything of value.

Nothing, as per the usual, Soren thinks.

When people heard about his intention to search for gold on this planet, they mocked him. Those that knew his family’s history were some of the harshest mockers.

They all told him that he wouldn’t find gold.

Those who didn’t know him told him that there wasn’t any gold here based upon charts, maps, and old data about where gold-bearing asteroids had crashed.

Those who knew him reminded him of his track record.

But the shining star through all of this was his special little lady back home.

She reminded him time and time again that King David from the Bible had never seen a victory against a giant before he faced Goliath. She reminded him that King David was the least cut out to do the job and that people doubted him.

And then David went out and made history.

Looking up at the sky once more, Soren whispers the same prayer he had offered up several times every day since he had arrived here, “Let’s make history, God.”

Bending down, Soren picks up his pan.

And there is a grand total of nothing beneath it.

Dropping to his haunches, Soren shakes his head and continues his prayer, “I don’t get it. I really don’t get it.”

Letting out a disgruntled sigh, he lays down and looks up the sheer cliff that his pan had landed at the base of.

Still shaking his head, his eyes eventually lock onto a tree.

The tree, like most of the vegetation on this world, is young. Nothing on the planet is older than maybe fifteen years, which was around when the seeders and spreadships that the Dawns sent out arrived in this system to try and make the planets around here more hospitable to humans.

However, what is sticking out to Soren about the tree isn’t its age.

It’s the fact that it is hanging precariously to the cliff’s face. All that Soren can see holding it up is a handful of slim roots, none larger than his finger or thumb.

There is an outcropping of stone hanging over most of the roots, which Soren notes must block out a lot of the rainwater that the tree might hope to ever receive.

And yet, somehow, the tree hung in there.

It persisted.

It stuck to the dream of living its life in the place where it was planted.

As Soren looks at the tree, he begins to wonder where it got its water, since the stone outcropping clearly blocked the rains. As he wonders, Soren’s eyes look back to the roots and he sees a slight glimmer.

Narrowing his eyes, Soren sees that there is a tiny spring of water that is burbling out of the cliff’s face providing water for the tree.

“Almost like that stream exists entirely for that tree,” Soren mutters with a soft chuckle. Looking back up to the heavens, he whispers, “Well, where’s my stream? Where’s the little crack that You set up just for me?” As those thoughts pass through Soren’s mind, he briefly recalls a scripture that said outright that if God took care of animals and plants then He’d take care of people. Rolling his eyes, Soren tries to convince himself that this was a sign that he’d find his gold.

Eventually, at least.

As if on cue, Soren’s little God-nudge speaks up and instructs him to walk over to where the tiny rivulet from the tree’s stream meets the base of the mountain. Looking at the bushes at the base of the stone face, he briefly considers ignoring the thought, but he eventually relents.

Shrugging, Soren thinks, What do I have to lose? No one’s watching me anyways.

Soren spends the next half hour chopping through and removing the bushes and he stops once he can see the damp area from the stream.

Sitting squarely at the base of it is a small, polished nugget of gold.

A nugget that wouldn’t be quite so dazzling were it not for the years of the water gently rolling over it.

Smirking, Soren can’t help but say, “Alright, I get it. I complain too much. But really? A nugget? That’s not about to cover any bills.”

Shrugging one more time, Soren crouches down and he grabs the nugget.

And he proceeds to tip over when he gives it a tug.

Surprised, Soren scrambles back to his feet and he clears a few stones from around the nugget.

Then a few more stones.

Then a few large rocks.

And some sand.

All the while, the gently flowing stream from about him washes the gold nugget clean, reminding Soren oh so vividly of what he was working for.

With every handful of gravel and rocks, the nugget seems to grow. Already it is many times larger and heavier than all the gold his family had ever dug up.

After an hour or so of digging, Soren’s stomach growls and his hunger pulls him away from his work. He mechanically reaches into his jacket, and he pulls out his bag of jerky. Reaching into the bag, he quickly rips it back out and he peers into it, looking for whatever had bitten him.

Confused when he doesn’t see anything other than blood, Soren looks down to his fingertips.

Staring back at him are some mangled fingers without fingernails.

In all of his excitement, he had gotten ahead of himself and gotten hurt in to process.

Chuckling, Soren reminds himself that he had forgotten to thank God for all of this as well.

Dropping to a kneeling position, Soren looks up to the sky once more and he offers God a sly smile, “So, what kind of cathedral you want me to build You, then?”

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Caleb Fast

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We Will Not Stay Broken

August 7, 1860

Fire reflected off the black window. It was two hours before midnight and five children sat near the hearth, cookies in hand but with only a few bites taken. To the right of them, seated in a rocking chair, was their maid. An African woman in her late thirties who, until a few moments ago, had captivated them with stories. 

The room adjoining had fallen deathly silent, disconcerting from the previous moaning and screaming they’d heard. In response, they too had ceased their chatter. The eldest, a boy about sixteen, stood and inched toward the door. The floor creaked under him and mud fell off in dry clumps, shattering silently. His eyes darted back toward his siblings and cousins who were huddled in a group. His twelve, nearly thirteen year old sister caught his gaze, bit her lip, and looked at him pleadingly for an answer. 

“Are they alright, Josiah?” 

Josiah moved closer toward the door and there was a sudden wail. Jubilant exclamations burst from the room along with deep laughter. 

“Josiah! Kesia! Lydia- everyone!” The door swung open to the face of their father. A trembling smile played on his face below his sagging, purple-ringed eyes. He brushed a hand across his moist face as the kids looked on wide eyed waiting expectantly for the news.

“Come meet the newest member of our family- Rebecca Rosie Jacobs.” 

Squeals filled the room as the group leapt to their feet waving their partially eaten treats. They were quickly shushed and led into the room. Three young women walked about the room, cleaning things up. Kesia, the third eldest child, watched them dump a water basin out the window then looked at the other end of the room toward the bed. Her mother laid on the sheets, nearly as white as the covers. Her father was whispering with the maid about something she couldn’t make out. She approached the side of the bed and put her hand on it. Rebecca Rosie, her skin still unwashed was already wrapped in a blanket and resting on her mother’s chest. The quilt seemed to drown both of them. Kesia wrapped her fingers in Josiah’s sleeve, giving it a tug as she whispered to him. 

“Are they going to be alright?” 

He put his arm around her and his other hand he placed on the shoulder of his other sister, Lydia, who stood on his left. The both looked up at him waiting for the answer. Fire light made his brown hair look golden and gave his young face a wise glow, but he was really just as clueless as they. Kesia watched his eyes glance toward their dad, now deep in a conversation with the midwives, then down at their mom. Their two cousins, Hiram and Harriet sat on the end of the bed also looking toward Josiah for an answer. 

“I don’t know.” He said gently as their dad left the room, walking the midwives out. “But God does. Why don’t we pray?”

Kesia, Lydia, and Harriet nodded solemnly in reply and closed their eyes. Kesia inched her hand forward across the sheets so that it rested on her mother’s shoulder. It was quiet for a few moments as Josiah sorted his thoughts trying to think of what to say. Kesia opened her eyes again and glanced up at him as he blinked tears from his eyes and began, quoting first a scripture from memory.

“Our Father in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come thy will be done on Earth as it is in heaven. Thank you for bringing our mother and new sister Rebecca Rosie safely to this moment. We ask that you would continue to carry them safely to strength and healing according to your will. In thy son’s holy name. Amen.” 

“And thank you that you helped Josiah get the midwives here on time.” Kesia added, “And please continue to help us all the time and take care of Ma and Rebecca Rosie. Amen.”  

The rest of the group echoed the amen including their father who now stood behind Josiah and Kesia. The two turned and looked up at him as he placed a hand on each of their shoulders and gave them a squeeze. A soft smile, now without the tremble, and glassy eyes met them. He gently pushed between them and sat on the edge of the bed placing his hand over Rosie’s head. It rested perfectly in his palm as he slipped his other hand beneath her and cradled her. His wife stirred, reaching out her hand.

“It’s alright, Charlotte. I’m just showing the kids Rebecca.”  

He looked up at Josiah, pride radiating from his face and slowly stood. Charlotte opened her eyes and scooched up a little to watch, smiling slightly. He carefully transferred Rebecca into Josiah’s arms. Slowly, a wide grin spread across Josiah’s face, he gazed into his new sister’s face and rubbed one of her hands. Kesia gently ran her hand through Rebecca’s thick, fuzzy, black hair. Josiah looked at Kesia.

“Want to hold her?”

Kesia nodded rapidly and held out her arms. She pressed Rebecca gently to her chest, so as not to drop her. Her heart sped up as the tiny babies breaths pressed against her. She looked at Josiah smiling excitedly, then biting her lip as she bounced slightly on her toes. She glanced at her mother who smiled, then back at the pink face of her sister. A hand came from her right and stroked the baby’s face with the back of two fingers. Kesia glanced to her side to see Hiram standing beside her and looking sheepishly at her. 

Her mother’s voice softly asked, “Would you like to hold your cousin, Hiram?” 

Kesia held Rebecca a little tighter and glanced at her mom then disapprovingly at her cousin. Hiram put his hands behind his back and ducked slightly as he smiled broadly. Kesia moved a step closer to Josiah. 

“Yes’m, Aunt Charlotte.” He said softly.

“Kesia, why don’t you give Hiram a turn?” 

Kesia looked at Josiah helplessly, thinking of all the mischief Hiram had played in the past.

“You’ll have plenty of time to hold her in the future.”

Kesia looked at Rebecca again then slowly transferred her to Hiram. 

“Be careful.” She said, adjusting Hiram’s arm to support Rebecca’s head. “Don’t drop her.”

“I’m not going to drop her, Kes.” Hiram responded, but without the usual spite. His eyes were wide and his hands shook a little. He sat on the edge of the bed then passed the baby to his uncle.

After Lydia and Harriet both had a chance to hold Rebecca, they all left the room and crept silently into bed. Kesia scribbled in her journal until a pillow tossed by Lydia knocked the pencil from her hand. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

November 5, 1860

The windows rattled and howls gave an ominous undertone to the otherwise cheery clapping of rain. Kesia was watching the dark hands of her maid shove towels into the crack under the door with a distant look as she held three month old Rebecca on her lap.

“Esther, do you think they’ll be alright? The storm is awful loud out there.”

Esther sat up and put her hands on her hips. “Miss Kesia- don’ be worryin yer’self about that storm. It’s just a little rain.”

“But they’re on their way to Lancaster! What if something happens on the road?” 

“The roads as ever sure as it’s been. Massa Ezra, he been that road many times now- rain or not.” 

Kesia sighed and leaned back, looking at Rebecca who smiled up at her. A clap of thunder made Kesia startle, but Rebecca just cooed happily. With a smile Kesia stood and hugged Rebecca, heading back to the parlor. 

She paused and looked back at Esther. “Esther, do you mind if I help with dinner tonight? I’ve enjoyed learning to bake, would you teach me to cook too?” 

“Of course, Miss Kesia.” Esther smiled and stood, lifting the bucket of sopping rags and drying her hand on her apron.

“Thanks, Esther.” Kesia turned and entered the room, taking a seat on a pile of blankets near Harriet and Lydia who sat near the window working on embroidery. Or rather, as Kesia observed, Harriet was working; Lydia was watching the drops make rivers down the glass with her pink skirt bunched up around her waist and feet up against the chair’s arm-rest. She lit up when Kesia entered and slapped her stocking feet onto the floor. 

“Can I hold her?”

Kesia put Rebecca on Lydia’s lap and picked up Lydia’s project.

“What are you supposed to be making?”

“Nothing, I was just trying to put a verse around the edge of my handkerchief but embroidery is so tedious.” 

Kesia smiled and turned the Bible so she could see what scripture Lydia was copying. “Psalm 139?”

“Yeah- verse 14.” 

“I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvellous are thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well.” 

“Yeah- it’s one of my favorites.”

Kesia nodded while reading the entirety of the passage. Lydia bounced Rebecca on her lap and read over Kesia’s shoulder. Harriet sighed and put her project down.

“If everyone is going to read something you might as well read it out loud.” 

Kesia’s mother had entered the room now and she took a seat. 

“Yes, Kesia, why don’t you read it aloud? You carry the Psalms with such a melodic tone, it would be a great past time.”

“Alright.” Kesia stood and began reading from the beginning. “O lord, thou hast searched me, and known me. Thou knowest my downsitting and mine uprising, thou understandest my thought afar off. Thou compassest my path and my lying down, and art acquainted with all my ways….” 

As she read, the rain seemed to patter along with the speed she spoke and the wind was a gentle whistle harmonizing with her voice. Rebecca’s eyes closed and she curled up in Lydia’s arms. The fire crackled and Esther paused her sweeping to listen. 

“…Search me, O God, and know my heart: try me, and know my thoughts: And see if there be any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

January 29, 1861

Kesia’s toes curled as they came in contact with the white powder dusting the ground outside. Her eyes observed the two sets of boot-prints leaving the house as she shivered and brushed cold specs from her blonde curls. 

“Lydia, Harriet, Hiram! There’s snow!” 

She turned just in time to see her sister and two cousins, still dressed in night clothes, crash together at the door and gawk outside. She smiled and her hazel eyes took on a mischievous look. 

“Quick- get dressed!” 

There was no need for prompting- all four of them scrambled for their rooms. 

“Lydia, have you seen my wool stockings?” Kesia asked, sweeping her hand under her bed. 

“No- do you have my hat?”

“It’s in here.” Kesia shoved a box across the floor and checked under her night stand. 

“Harriet, have you seen my socks?”

Harriet, pulling on her own stockings, shook her head. “Did they need to be mended?”

Kesia ran out to the parlor and ruffled through the mending basket. “Aha!”

She snatched them out and ran back to the room. “Thanks, Harriet. They still have the tear but that’s alright; I’ll just wear another pair under them.” 

Harriet was helping Lydia get her skirt braced and simply nodded. “Do you have some other suspenders? Lydia’s won’t clip.”

Kesia yanked a drawer open and tossed a new pair to Harriet. Lydia caught it and passed it to Harriet. “Thanks.” 

Kesia grabbed her lavender dress and pulled it over her underdress. They’d all ignored the stiff crinoline and simply layered on fabric for warmth. With a flourish, Kesia dumped a stack of shawls and gloves on Lydia’s bed then pulled on her boots. 

Someone pounded on the door.

 “You ready yet!”

“One minute, Hiram!”

The girls heard him groan and they laughed. Each slipped on a pair of gloves, grabbed a shawl, and pulled a hat from the hat box as they made their way to the door. 

“Finally!” 

The front door was flung open and a icy blast of air blew their unbuttoned coats. Lydia gave them a shove from the back.

“Come on!” 

They tumbled out into the snow; balls of it immediately began to fling across the path as they laughed and screamed. 

“Megan, John!” Lydia shouted as she passed by a house. “Come out and join us!” 

Two dark faces peeked out the door then it opened wide. “Is it all right with Massa Ezra, Miss Lydia?”

Kesia laughed and tossed a snowball lightly at the door. “He isn’t home, but come on- it’s snow! How could he say no to that?”

Megan grinned and pulled at John’s arm, whispering to him. 

“Well I suppose if i’s alright…” John began then he suddenly looked past the girls then down at his feet; Megan moved a bit back behind him. Kesia looked behind her. Hiram was glowering at the door.

“Hiram, come on, it’s snow- you can’t really not want them out here! The more the merrier- we could have an epic battle!” 

“My pa would beat us and them both for that.”

“Our pa isn’t like that.” Lydia objected.

“But he don’t allow it either and you know it.” 

“He wouldn’t have to know,” Kesia objected. “He won’t be back for a good while. Hiram, they’d just be out here to throw snow with us. Besides, I’m sure Pa would allow it this once. It’s the first good snow this winter!” 

Hiram glowered at Kesia then at Megan and John. “Go inside and don’t you be out here bothering us!” 

“Yes’r, Massa Hiram.” John replied and pushed Megan indoors. 

Lydia crossed her arms and scowled at Hiram while Kesia looked apologetically at Megan and John as the door closed.

Lydia’s kicked a clump of snow at Hiram.

“You mess up all the fun.” 

“Oh, grow up, Lydia.” He snapped then took a handful of snow and shoved it down her back. She squealed as he took off running, immediately forgetting their feud. 

Later that day after hours of playing in the snow and ambushing Josiah and his dad, they all sat inside, bundled in blankets around the fire. Rebecca entertained them with her attempts to crawl. 

Kesia was listening to her father, mother, Josiah, and Hiram talk while Harriet read and Lydia drew pictures with chalk.

“The South has seceded from the States.” She heard her father say. 

Hiram scoffed, “About time.”

Josiah scowled at him and looked at his father, “What are they planning on doing?”

“Nothing much I presume. They’ve gone and called themselves the Confederate States but I doubt anything serious will happen. Congress will sort it all out.”

“Sort it out?” Hiram said glowering, “When snow comes in summer! No- it’s about time this happened! With all that abolitionist junk and escaping slaves it’s about time the South stood up and had its say. Whatever happened to the right to pursue happiness, hm? The South will be ruined without slaves. They’ve gone and stated the cause that impels them to separation just like the Declaration of Independence did.” 

“That same document you quote, Hiram,” Josiah responded calmly, “also states ‘We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life and Liberty’”

“Exactly!” Hiram exclaimed, “Some people think plantation owners are some cruel monsters because of what all them abolitionist folks say but we’re all created equal and allowed to do what we please with our liberty.” 

Josiah slouched in his chair and sighed. “That’s not exactly the point I was trying to make…” 

“What then- don’t tell me you’re an abolitionist.” 

Josiah didn’t respond and glanced at his father.

“It’s all unfair. We got just the same rights, it’s our property that these people are trying to get the government to take away! And the South has its right to abolish whatever government that tries to tyrannically destroy our well being. Wouldn’t you agree, Uncle?”

Ezra glanced up from the paper in his hand. “Well, that is certainly what some people believe. I don’t know if you understand the implications of war, Hiram. We’re talking about death and disunity in a country the fathers of that document fought so hard to create. I doubt Congress will allow such a thing as war to take place over this little issue.” 

Hiram shrugged. “If you say so.”

The room fell silent and everyone watched Rebecca push herself up on her knees and reach forward. She seemed stable for a second then flopped down on her stomach. She let out a wail and rolled over, looking expectantly at the people watching her with her wide blue eyes. 

As her mother went and scooped Rebecca up, Kesia scooched closer to Josiah’s chair.

“What does it mean that the South has seceded?” 

Josiah slipped off the chair and sat next to her on the floor and began fiddling with some wood and metal.

“Basically it means the South has decided it doesn’t want to be part of the United States.” He bent a wire and wound it into a hole in the rod. 

“Why?”

“Well.” Josiah slipped some bells and rings onto the wire. “Because Lincoln was elected with virtually no southern consent, they feel neglected and unrepresented and have therefore declared they will no longer be united with the rest of the States.”

Kesia lied back, balling her blanket into a pillow. “Why don’t they like Lincoln?”

 “It has to do with something he promised: keeping slavery out of the territories. This would potentially cause unequal amounts of slave and free states.” He bent the other end of the wire and stuck it through the hole.

“And that is a bad thing?”

“For the south it is.” He wrapped a strip of leather around the rod.

Kesia tilted her head and pointed at the object. “What did you make?”

Josiah grinned. “A rattle.” 

He stood and walked over to his mom. He grabbed Rebecca’s hand and put the object in it, giving it a shake. It clanked and rang. She cooed and laughed. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

July 24, 1861

The door flung open and hit the wall with a thud.

“There’s been another!” 

Everyone looked at Hiram as he announced the news. The front and back of his red shirt were dark with sweat and a black lock was dripping before his wildly excited brown eyes. One suspender had slid off his shoulder and hung at his left elbow as he waved the newspaper. 

Josiah and Ezra both stood while Charlotte sighed. 

“Hiram, go change your pants and bring me those so I can mend the hole.” 

“Here, Uncle.” Hiram tossed the newspaper expertly to Ezra then walked down the hall to change. 

Kesia glanced outside to see Lydia still digging in the garden with Harriet reading nearby then walked over to look at the newspaper with her brother and father.

“What happened?”

“Another battle in Virginia.” Ezra responded. Brown curls sprung between his fingers as he sighed, thinking. 

“This is the fourth real battle right?” Charlotte asked, walking over with Rebecca at her breast. 

Ezra nodded. “It’s only been a few. I honestly don’t believe it will go on much longer.” 

“But what if it does?” Kesia asked.

Ezra was silent a moment as he gazed at his wife and then at his youngest child. His shoulders slumped. “Well, I may enlist.” 

“Ezra!” Charlotte exclaimed. 

Ezra put his hand on his wife’s shoulder. “It’s my duty to the unity of this country, Charlotte.” 

“You can do your duty without fighting, Ezra, think of your family. Rosie isn’t even a year yet!” 

“I know- and I’m not enlisting yet, I simply said it is something I am possibly considering,” he said gently, “And I am thinking of this family. I’m thinking of what could happen if this war goes on. The Virginias aren’t so far from here.”

Charlotte seemed to want to say something but Ezra gently wound one of her stray blonde strips of hair around his finger and stroked her face. 

“Alright.” She said. “Alright, we can talk about this later.” She pushed his hand away and smiled at him. 

Hiram had returned by now and dropped his torn pants in the mending basket. Charlotte nodded at him then walked to the door to check on the Harriet and Lydia while Ezra took a seat to read the rest of the paper.

“So the war continues.” Hiram said, tilting his head up. “I told you it would. The South isn’t going to be so easy and rightly so.”

Josiah sighed and shot him a look but he didn’t shut up.

“I think it’s right that they fight for what they believe. I bet my father would already be on the front lines with the rest of them if he was alive.” 

“But he isn’t,” Josiah snapped. “So drop it.”

Hiram clenched his fists. “Yeah? Well I bet your Pa won’t even join the Union.” 

“Well yours was a-” 

Ezra rested the paper on his knees. “That will be quite enough.” 

Josiah’s face flushed and he hung his head.

“Sorry, Pa. I didn’t mean it…”  He turned to walk out and calm down but Hiram hissed in his ear. 

“Abolitionist filth.”

Josiah made to hit him but stopped short at his father’s gaze. He dropped his hand and stalked out, ignoring Kesia’s questioning gaze.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

November 12, 1861

“You will do no such thing!” Ezra slammed his hand down on the table. Josiah stood pushing his chair back. Charlotte glanced at the girls and waved them toward the door.

“Pa, you know I respect you in every way. But I can not understand why you wish to enlist when you’ve got a whole family to take care of! It would be better I enlist than you- I’ll be of age next July and I want to fight for the freedom of many.” 

 Kesia grabbed Rebecca’s hand as she wobbled into the hall. Harriet closed the door behind them, but they all crowded against it to listen. 

“I need you to take care of the family.”

“Why can’t you stay and care for the family?”

“Because you are part of it!” 

“What need of we to even join in the fight?” Charlotte’s voice interceded. 

“Lottie, we’ve discussed this.”

“But there are other ways-”

“We are part of the United States and I will fight for unity to remain.”

There was a crash like that of a dish breaking and silence for a moment until Charlotte’s voice spoke softly but strained. 

“Even if it means losing your life?” 

“Or property?” Hiram added.

“Whether it means giving up every coin and breath I own! Don’t you understand? I couldn’t care less if slaves get their freedom or not. That’s not what I’m fighting for. If this country doesn’t remain united as one we might not have a home and the freedom to call anything property. There are people who won’t have a family to return to if this battle goes on- it could even come to us and I would have the guilt of knowing I did not stand to stop it.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

February 12, 1862

The battle on February eighth had been the deciding marker. Everyone stood outside except Hiram. Kesia looked around for him and caught a glimpse of him peeking out from behind the brown curtain. His eyes were rimmed with red- but he glared with anger. He held his chin up as if to say he didn’t care, but his lip trembled. Kesia looked back at her father who held Rebecca with one arm, tickling her with the other. 

Her throat tightened and she felt her eyes begin to burn but she shook her head- she wouldn’t cry until he was gone. 

He passed Rebecca back to his wife and hugged them both tightly then looked at his son. He placed both hands on Josiah’s shoulders.

“I can still go instead… it’s only a few more months.” Josiah tried to persuade once more.

“Take care of them. You’re wise and strong, Josiah. I’m more proud of you than I can ever express.” Tears flooded Josiah’s eyes and he hugged his father. 

Lydia and Kesia didn’t wait for him to approach them. They both ran to hug him. Lydia jumped up and hugged him around the neck. He squeezed them both tight.

“I love you my beautiful princesses.”

Kesia didn’t try to hold the tears back anymore. “Be careful, Pa.” 

“How long will you be gone?” Lydia asked.

“I pray it won’t be long.” He whispered. 

“We’ll pray too.”

He smiled and slowly released them; Lydia dropped back to the ground then wrapped her arm around Kesia. He stepped in front of Harriet who was sniffing and staring at the ground. 

“Can I have a hug from my neice?” 

She sniffed again and her lips twitched up in a slight smile as she nodded and gave him a hug.

“You’re turning into a lovely young lady, Harriet. Your parents would be proud of you. I’m proud of you.” 

She let go and wrapped her arms around herself. He gave her a pat on the shoulder then looked toward the window. Hiram snapped the shade shut. 

He turned back to his wife and gave her a kiss then pat Josiah once more on the shoulder. The door eased open a crack and Ezra spoke loudly.

“Tell Hiram I’m proud of him, too.” 

The door closed again.

Ezra sighed and looked at his family then mounted his horse.

“I love you all.” He said softly, then kicked his horse.

Kesia watched him ride away noting, for a February day, it was unusually warm. When she could no longer see him she looked up at the sky. The sun was bright and high without a single cloud. She gave Lydia, who was still clinging to her side, a squeeze then whispered as she blinked back tears.

“Lord, please bring Pa home. Let this war end soon.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

January 11, 1863

Kesia snapped her hand away from the top of the fabric where the tip of a needle glinted in the light from the window. 

“Ow!”

Harriet huffed and dropped the shirt she was sewing to her lap. “That’s like the tenth time today, Kesia!”

“Well, sorry if sewing isn’t my expertise!” 

Harriet reached over and snatched the fabric that was suppose to become a pair of pants. “Your stitching isn’t even straight and it’s too wide, it’ll come undone to easy.” 

“Well at least I’m in here doing it willingly.”

Harriet tossed the fabric back to Kesia and leaned back in her seat. “I’m in here willingly. If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be in here at all.”

Lydia smirked. “You were all but bribed, Harriet.” 

“Threatened is more like it- wash laundry and hang laundry or sew.”

“Washing and hanging is your only chore.” Kesia said while tying off the short thread. “Rosie, can you get me some more thread?” Rebecca squealed with delight and dropped her doll, running for the sewing basket. 

“Yes, but when it’s all but snowing outside? It’s practically a death sentence! Of course I would choose sewing instead.” 

Rebecca ran back with the spool of thread, grinning widely, then tripping over the edge of her gown and landing sprawled at Lydia’s feet.

“You’d have bribed Megan to do it anyway.” Lydia responded while helping Rebecca back to her feet and scruffing her blonde hair. Then she held up the shirt she had sewn. “How does it look?”

Rebecca walked the rest of the way to Kesia and handed her the thread.

“Thanks, Rosie.” Kesia said and gave her a piece of a cookie. She snatched it and popped it in her mouth happily while walking away. Kesia watched her walk away grinning then looked up at Lydia’s shirt.

“Left sleeve looks a little short.” 

Lydia held it out further. “Really?”

She turned toward her mom. “Is it?” 

Charlotte looked up. “Sorry, Lydia, it does look a bit off.”

“I thought I’d measured right… Oh well, I’ll just cut the other sleeve to match I suppose.” 

She grabbed the scissors and the measuring rod then knelt on the floor to begin fixing the problem.

“Do you think we will get a letter today?” 

Harriet sighed. “It’s been three months since the last letter, Lydia, and you’ve asked that every single day. Why don’t you give up asking? None of us know any better than you.” Her last statement came out spitefully as she jabbed the needle harshly through the fabric. 

Lydia sat back on her knees and frowned at Harriet, her eyes a little glassy. “I still think one will come.”

“I’m sure it will, too,” Charlotte said and pat her daughter, “It’s just the mail has been a little slow lately.” She tried to comfort. Kesia though, gazing at her from the other side of the room, could see the redness of her eyes. 

“Why don’t we read a Psalm?” 

Harriet groaned and slumped in her chair but then sat back up again. 

Lydia grabbed the Bible and opened it up to where they’d left off. 

“Psalm 121. I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help. My help cometh from the Lord, which made heaven and earth…”

Charlotte leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes for a moment listening contently. Kesia gazed at her needle thoughtfully and whispered along with Lydia from memory.

“…The Lord shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore.”

“Amen.” Charlotte said then the door creaked open. Lydia slapped the Bible closed and looked hopefully at Josiah.

He shook his head. “Still no letter.” 

They all sighed.

Hiram walked in behind him without saying a word and went straight to his room. His face was drawn tight and he had his hands tucked deep in his pockets.

Harriet stood up and placed the shirt down. “Hiram?” He closed the bedroom door. She bit her lip and sat back down, but didn’t pick her project back up. 

“Where’s Rosie?” Josiah asked. “Normally she runs to the door when we get back.” 

Everyone sat up suddenly and looked about. 

“She was just here!” Kesia exclaimed and draped the shirt over the side of the chair. Lydia put the Bible back on the hearth and dropped to her hands and knees, looking under the chairs and tables to see if Rosie was hiding. 

“I’ll go check the bedrooms!” Charlotte said. 

Kesia and Harriet both made for the kitchen. 

“Rosie!”

“Rebecca!” 

Shouts echoed through the house. Kesia’s heart was pounding as she yanked open cabinets. 

“Rebecca Rosie Jacobs- where are you!” 

“Kesia- the cellar is open!” Harriet called.

Kesia grabbed a candle and ran over. They both descended the steps and looked around. White powder covered the floor and there were little white handprints across the wall. Harriet and Kesia gave each other knowing looks. To their left they heard a sneeze; Kesia turned and held out the light to see better in the dim corner. Rosie clapped her hands sending a little puff of white into the air and giggled. 

“Rosieeee!” Kesia moaned but began laughing. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

July 5, 1863

Kesia laid in bed unable to sleep. Her mind was consumed with thoughts and she could hear her mother in the next room tossing and turning, crying. She seemed to do that every night- Kesia wasn’t sure she ever slept anymore. 

They hadn’t heard from Pa in over nine months now. No one even asked or looked anymore when Josiah and Hiram came back. Hiram never spoke a word and Josiah would sigh and update them on the day’s work while picking up a shirt and helping mend it or making something from some spare leather he brought home. 

They had groups every now and then of ladies who would come and sew- sometimes they’d go to another person’s house. It made it feel less confining to be with others in the same circumstance. 

Kesia sighed and rolled to her side, pulling at a string in her quilt. 

There had been a battle a few days ago in Pennsylvania. It was hard to sleep knowing they’d only been hours away from a battle. It wasn’t even comforting to know the Union had managed to push them out. 

Her eyes started to drift closed as newspaper images of battle grounds flickered through her thoughts, but a scream bolted her upright. Her hands scrambled for the matches next to her bed and she tried to light the candle, shakily. 

She heard the door down the hall bang open and footsteps running toward their room. She lit the candle and turned toward Harriet who was sobbing in bed. The door swung open and Hiram was the first through. He rushed to the side of the bed and put his arm around Harriet his face full of concern.

“Don’t go away, Hiram. Please, don’t go away.” She cried and hugged him. He held her tighter and rocked her.

“I’m right here, sis.” 

Josiah stood in the doorway with his mom holding a lamp. He walked to the side of Kesia’s bed.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know. She must have had a nightmare.” 

Lydia moaned and rolled over covering her head with her pillow. After a few minutes spent comforting Harriet, everyone went back to their own beds. Kesia kept the candle burning on the stand and watched its flame flicker in and out. Harriet still cried softly so Kesia began to pray aloud.

“Father in Heaven, we need your comfort so much right now. I’ve barely got a hope to hear from Pa now and I’m so terrified. I hear Ma crying every night and some nights the rest of us do too. Won’t you give us some comfort, some peace? Something more steady than a flickering candle flame? ‘Lord, I cry unto thee: make haste unto me; give ear unto my voice, when I cry unto thee. Let my prayer be set forth before thee as incense!’” As she quoted the scripture from Psalms 141 she heard Harriet’s crying ceace. So she continued with another- Psalms 143 beginning at the fourth verse. “‘Therefore is my spirit overwhelmed within me; my heart within me is desolate. I remember the days of old; I meditate on all thy works; I muse on the work of thy hands. I stretch forth my hands unto thee: my soul thirsteth after thee, as a thirsty land. Selah. Hear me speedily, O Lord: my spirit faileth: hide not thy face from me, lest I be like unto them that go down into the pit. Cause me to hear thy lovingkindness in the morning; for in thee do I trust: cause me to know the way wherein I should walk; for I lift up my soul unto thee. Deliver me, O Lord, from mine enemies: I flee unto thee to hide me. Teach me to do thy will; for thou art my God: thy spirit is good; lead me into the land of uprightness. Quicken me, O Lord, for thy name’s sake: for thy righteousness’ sake bring my soul out of trouble. And of thy mercy cut off mine enemies, and destroy all them that afflict my soul: for I am thy servant.’”

Harriets breathing was steady now and Kesia could hardly keep her eyes open. She blew out the candle.

“Thank you that you will be our refuge, Lord. Amen.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

August 8, 1863

“So, are you looking forward to tomorrow?” Charlotte asked, trying to prompt conversation at the dinner table.

Kesia shrugged. “Yay. I turn sixteen.” She chopped her baked potato into pieces and ran them along the rim of her plate. 

“We’ve saved sugar. We’ll be making a cake for both you and Rosie, it should be fun. Is there anyone you want to come over?” 

Kesia shrugged again. “Josiah, what’s the draft? Someone was talking about it the other day.” 

Josiah sighed. “It’s a type of system that chooses people at random to fight in the war.”

Hiram piped up. “Yeah, the Confederates set one up last year. I hear the Union set it up cause they don’t have enough volunteers.” 

Josiah nodded. “Yeah.”

Hiram nudged Josiah. “Say, you can be drafted can’t you?”

Josiah nodded again. “I don’t know when Pennsylvania will pick it up but there is a chance.” 

“But they can’t!” Lydia exclaimed. “Pa went to the war- they can’t take you as well.” 

“If I’m drafted they can, but it’s alright, Lydia, I doubt I’ll be drafted.” 

Hiram scoffed, “But don’t you want to fight?”

Josiah glared at him. “Hiram, we aren’t going to talk about this again. Pa went, we both need to stay here to take care of the family.” 

“Take care of the family? Isn’t that the reason he left? See what good fighting for the Union has done. The North should have just agreed with the South and we wouldn’t be in this mess!” 

“Hiram. We are not going to talk about this here- alright?”

“And why shouldn’t we?” Hiram stood and slapped his hand on the table. “It’s all your fault and all your abolitionist friends and the like that got us in this mess! If they’da just kept their mouths shut and stuck to their own business there woulda never been a divide, never been a war, never been a reason for Uncle Ezra to leave and we’d all be here happily eating and excited about Kesia’s birthday and happy about how Rosie turned three yesterday. He’d be here right now laughing with us, planning the cake and games instead of out there fighting and maybe dead!” 

He clenched his fists and glowered at Josiah who gaped and tried to come up with a response. 

“For all your speeches on freedom you can’t come up with a simple response. The Confederates are right- the people up North don’t understand. They don’t listen and all they know is what their told. Haven’t you seen the papers about the South? They’re in ruins now cause of this. Prices are crazy, people are starving, and the economy is haywire just cause the North wouldn’t be fair. And they still aren’t! Lincoln’s gone passed a law saying if slaves from the South join the Union they can be free- doesn’t he know how devastating that’ll be? He’s practically given permission to steal.” 

“They want the same freedom you seem to think the Confederates need. The freedom to pursue their life, liberty, and happiness. And you seem to forget it was the South that seceded- not the North. Lincoln never even said he’d ban slavery- only that he’d keep it out of the territories! It was the South that started the first battle and it is the South that is choosing not to change their ways.”

“Or maybe it’s the North that won’t accept the South’s.” 

Josiah groaned and put his head in his hands. “Hiram. Just stop. You’re acting like a child.” 

Everyone in the room held their breath as Hiram’s face flushed and he took a threatening step toward Josiah but Harriet suddenly stood.

“Hiram, don’t! Just drop it.” 

He glanced at his sister and straightened, turned on the heel of his boot, and stalked out of the room. 

Josiah looked apologetically at everyone left in the room. “I guess I didn’t handle that very well…” 

Charlotte walked over and put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s alright, Josiah. He’s got a lot of stress. We all do.”

Rebecca chose that moment to kick the table, everyone startled. Rebecca gave a grin. “Play now?” 

They all smiled slightly. 

“Sure, Rosie. We can play now.” Josiah said, picking her up. “Who’s up for some dominos?” 

Later that night after a great evening of dominoes and card towers, terrorized by Rosie and her rocking horse, everyone went to bed feeling exhausted but cheerful. 

Kesia laid on her stomach and sketched in her notebook trying to decide what to write about that evening but her thoughts were suddenly distracted by the door slowly easing open. Harriet slipped out of bed and stepped lightly over, then slipped out of the room. Kesia heard whispers through the door but couldn’t make out the conversation. Shrugging, she went back to drawing, glancing up again when Harriet entered. 

She eased the door slowly open, turning quickly to close it, then hurried to her bed with her face down. The candle illuminated a wet line trailing her face.

“What happened?” Kesia asked, rolling onto her side. Harriet curled into her bed and hid under her blankets.

“Harriet?”

The pillow was pulled under the covers.

Kesia sighed and flopped onto her back, gazing at the ceiling then finally beginning to journal.  

I’m so worried. She wrote in her last line before snuffing out the candle. I wish we’d get some news of Pa. Why does everything feel so broken right now?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

October 18, 1863

Harriet sat at the window unmoving. A group of about fifteen ladies were in the parlor sewing, chattering, eating snacks, but Harriet was entirely uninterested. Kesia came and sat beside her, two small cakes in her hand. Harriet glanced at them but sighed.

“Bet soldiers don’t even have good bread.” Harriet whispered.

Kesia looked at the cakes a second then put them to the side.

“I’m scared he’ll never come back.”

“Hiram?”

Harriet nodded. “I can’t lose another person, Kesia. I lost my parents, I’m scared your Pa is gone forever, and now Hiram’s been gone two months. What if he gets hurt out there? What if he starves?”

Kesia gazed out the window with her and put an arm around her shoulder. 

“I wish I could have stopped him but he hardly let me say a word. I’m so scared, Kesia.”

“I am too…”

“And now it’s agony waiting for Josiah to return. It’s just one more person to wonder about.”

Kesia nodded. “I know.”

“How much longer do you think it’ll be before he gets back from Lancaster?” 

“I pray not too long.” 

“I wish I had the strength to pray.” 

Kesia simply squeezed her shoulder. 

“I feel like He doesn’t listen any more. If He did- wouldn’t this have ended long ago?”

“I wish I knew,” Kesia whispered.

“I guess it can’t get much worse though, can it?” 

Kesia didn’t know whether to nod or shake her head. Could it get worse? She didn’t know- that was, until she saw Josiah riding up, his face pasty white.

“Oh, God. Please, no.” She whispered. Harriet paled. Kesia turned and caught the eye of her mother and Lydia, waving them toward the door. They immediately understood and excused themselves, meeting Josiah as he entered.

They didn’t speak a word, simply standing there in silence as Josiah held a piece of paper out.

“Drafted,” was the only word he spoke. His mother started crying while the other three girls stood shocked. The guests wandered over and gave sympathetic looks, patting Charlotte on the back, and hugging Josiah. 

“You have our prayers.” They kept saying but Kesia suddenly felt like Harriet. 

She ran to her room and closed the door, falling to the floor and crying.

“Why God? Why? Why did you let this happen? What will we do? Wasn’t it enough that this war hasn’t ended? That we still have no news of Pa? That Hiram ran off? What will we do if Pa and Josiah don’t return? Lord, what happened to your thoughts for us that outnumber the sand? Did one of your thoughts include this? What happened to your mercy that endureth forever like it says in Psalms 136?” She curled up on her side, still crying, her dark pink silk dress crinkling around her. Her chest pressed against the corset uncomfortably as her lungs heaved in and out but she simply curled up tighter. “God, please help me have faith. Help me trust you. Protect Josiah, protect Pa if he still lives. Take care of Hiram wherever he is. And help us… Let this war end soon, Lord. Please. I feel like everything- my family, my country, is falling apart. So please help me…let me mean it as I speak your verses from Psalm 9: ‘I will praise thee, O Lord, with my whole heart; I will shew forth all thy marvellous works. I will be glad and rejoice in thee: I will sing praise to thy name, O thou most High. When mine enemies are turned back, they shall fall and perish at thy presence. For thou hast maintained my right and my cause; thou satest in the throne judging right. Thou hast rebuked the heathen, thou hast destroyed the wicked, thou hast put out their name forever and ever. O thou enemy, destructions are come to a perpetual end: and thou hast destroyed cities; their memorial is perished with them. But the Lord shall endure forever: he hath prepared his throne for judgment. And he shall judge the world in righteousness, he shall minister judgment to the people in uprightness. The Lord also will be a refuge for the oppressed, a refuge in times of trouble. And they that know thy name will put their trust in thee: for thou, Lord, hast not forsaken them that seek thee. Sing praises to the Lord, which dwelleth in Zion: declare among the people his doings. When he maketh inquisition for blood, he remembereth them: he forgetteth not the cry of the humble. Have mercy upon me, O Lord; consider my trouble which I suffer of them that hate me, thou that liftest me up from the gates of death: That I may shew forth all thy praise in the gates of the daughter of Zion: I will rejoice in thy salvation. The heathen are sunk down in the pit that they made: in the net which they hid is their own foot taken. The Lord is known by the judgment which he executeth: the wicked is snared in the work of his own hands. Higgaion. Selah. The wicked shall be turned into hell, and all the nations that forget God. For the needy shall not always be forgotten: the expectation of the poor shall not perish for ever. Arise, O Lord; let not man prevail: let the heathen be judged in thy sight. Put them in fear, O Lord: that the nations may know themselves to be but men. Selah.’

Be my praise, Lord, be the judgment… be the refuge, don’t forget our cries. Bring my family home, please. Don’t let us stay broken forever.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

November 30, 1863

There were no more tears to be shed as Josiah left. The crisp autumn wind seemed to drag him away with the leaves, while they all stuck like trees in front of the house. David, Esther, Megan, John, and the few other slaves they owned had also come to see him off, but they didn’t speak a word. It seemed to Kesia as if all emotion had been sucked into a swamp. Rebecca was the only one who made any noise or movement. She ran after Josiah waving, her frizzy blonde hair dancing about her shoulders and music jangling from the worn out rattle he’d made for her. 

“Siah! Be safe, Siah!” She called out, waving the instrument. He turned in his saddle and smiled.

“And you be good, Rosie.” 

She laughed and nodded, waving vigorously. He waved then turned forward so that she couldn’t see the fear and tears in his eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

April 2, 1864

Kesia ran inside waving a crumpled letter.

“Another letter from Josiah!” 

Everyone gathered in the parlor for her to read it. 

“Dear family,

There hasn’t been a battle yet; I’m sure you are glad to hear. Honestly, it’s quite boring here and the food is terrible- but with the stories I hear at least it’s food. I’ve taken to writing stories since all I have is free time. When I finish it I’ll try to see if I can ship it to you. We do have a merry time around the campfire playing music and singing hymns but most everyone here is homesick. There’s sickness going around the camp right now- please be praying for my health. Which reminds me, thank you for the soap you sent in the last care package. It’s been very handy. I can’t believe I forgot to pack that! 

Also, Daniel, a friend I’ve made here, was very thankful for the extra outfits you sent me. He hadn’t had a change of clothes in over a year! Your hard work sewing these past few years has truly been appreciated. If you could, I know another boy who needs some new clothes and a deck of cards, books, or some other game would help a lot with the activity crisis here. 

I miss you all, and I’ve been asking around about Pa. So far no one has heard about him. I’ve even gone to generals asking if there’s any way that they could find out what happened to him. I hope and pray he’s still alive and pray this war ends soon so I can return. 

Love,

Josiah Peter Jacobson”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

June 30, 1864

Kesia held tightly to the little slip of paper they had received a week ago, watching at the door.

“It said the 30th.” She mumbled under her breath. “Why isn’t he here yet?”

Her mother put a hand on her shoulder. It was thin and rough. Kesia looked up at her mother and felt her heart sink a little. There were dark rings under her mother’s eyes that had been there for what seemed like an eternity. Wrinkles had begun to appear on her face and a gray hair hung loosely. 

“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it Ma?” Kesia whispered, turning and giving her a hug. 

“It has. But he’ll be here soon.”

“How bad do you think it’ll be?” 

Charlotte shook her head and sighed. “I don’t know.”

“Is Rosie in bed?” 

Charlotte nodded. “And Lydia and Harriet are making sure Josiah’s room is as perfect as can be. Esther and Megan have prepared a meal fit for a king, John and David are out waiting on the path ready to make sure he arrives safely. Don’t worry, Kesia, he’ll get here safe.”

“You want to go and rest while I wait up? I’ll wake you when I catch sight of them” 

Charlotte shook her head. “I can get sleep when I see my baby boy back here in bed resting himself.” 

“At least sit.” Kesia pulled two chairs into the hall. They both sat; Kesia held her mother’s hand. 

Lydia and Harriet came out and sat on the floor, waiting. 

“It can’t have been too horrible or they wouldn’t be transporting him,” Harriet assured, twisting the edge of her petticoat around her fingers. 

No one responded, they simply stared pensively at the door. 

The clock chimed midnight, everyone’s eyes were heavy but they kept them open. 

Suddenly, Harriet began to hum, mumbling the words, “What a friend we have in Jesus.”

Lydia joined in softly. “All our sins and griefs to bear.”

“What a privilege to carry,” Charlotte breathed, “Everything to God in prayer.”

“Oh, what a peace we often forfeit. Oh, what needless pain we bear. All because we do not carry.”

“Everything to God in prayer.” Kessia sang the last line with them in a whisper. 

Voices could be heard approaching from outside and the door was flung open.

“Missus Charlotte! He’s a comin’!” John exclaimed, leaning against the door frame and breathing heavily. 

All four of them shoved their chairs into the parlor and piled out the door, watching the road.  

A wagon rode up slowly, driven by a young man in a disheveled uniform and led by David. Next to the driver was another young man with his arm cradled in his jacket. Blood stained his white shirt which hung open slightly revealing bandages wrapped around the chest, shoulder, and arm. 

Charlotte ran to the wagon and climbed on, cradling her son’s face and kissing him on the forehead. 

“Josiah…” 

He smiled weakly and hugged her carefully with his uninjured arm. The cart pulled up in front of the door and they clambered out. Kesia, Lydia, and Harriet allowed him to embrace them each carefully. David gave Josiah a light pat on the back.

“Good to see you back, Massa ‘Osiah.” 

Josiah smiled. “Good to be back, David.” He turned around and waved at the driver.

“Thanks for bringing me here, Oliver.”

The young man smiled and tipped his hat. “No problem.” He looked at Charlotte.

“Sorry we were so late, Ma’am. The directions they gave me in Lancaster were confusing and Josiah here was out cold most the way.” 

She smiled and shook her head. “Thank you for bringing him here safely. You must be exhausted. Come in, have some dinner, and if you like you can spend the night.”

Oliver smiled. “Much obliged, Ma’am.” 

He hopped down. David helped him stable the horses and they all went inside.

Esther and Megan brought out the soup and fussed over both the young soldiers while everyone listened rapt as Josiah explained his injury. 

“It was during the battle of Petersburg,” he explained. “I got shot the third day in and Oliver here pulled me out. With the permission of the camp doctor, I was discharged and Oliver was given the privilege of taking me to a hospital and being relieved of duty. The bullet’s been removed and I’ve been given instruction on how to care for it. I’m one of the lucky ones- I saw a lot of soldiers die from infected bullet wounds.”  

His face suddenly got gloomier and he sighed, “And speaking of infections. Ma… Pa’s dead.”

Charlotte bowed her head but she didn’t cry. They’d all known for some time.

 “I pulled some strings and eventually got a medical report matching Pa’s description and bearing his name. It was a bullet to the leg, when amputation didn’t end the infection it was only a matter of time.” He choked. “I never thought I’d find out what happened. But by God’s grace, I did. He was a hero. I met the kid he took the bullet for. Just a young boy- fourteen at the time. He was fighting for the Confederates but got shot and was stuck right in the middle. He stuck with the Union as a nurse after Pa saved him, that’s how I met him. Pa moved him to a safer area with a bullet already in his arm. Then another in his leg. He passed out on the edge of the battle ground, Union medics came and took them both. The boy, his name was Joseph, was there when Pa said his last words: ‘let them know I did it so we can be one.’”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

June 10, 1865

Kesia sat outside alone watching a monarch on a flower nearby. She glanced down at her diary where she’d written an entry, reading it again to herself and echoing the first words.

“It’s over, truly over.”

She looked over at the butterfly, and whispered to it. “Its funny, when the war began we thought it would only last a little while but here we are five years later. Whatever happened to being united we use to think. Well…I suppose we still think. We’ve got a long way to go before that.” 

She rolled to her back and gazed at the sky, thinking of the last year. It had taken some time to adjust to Josiah’s return. He struggled with memories from the war and they all grieved: for their father, for the pain Josiah was in, for their country that seemed beyond healing. In time, Josiah took up their father’s work, and the home returned to a sort of normality. Kesia and her mother continued to sew for the army. Lydia and Harriet had begun to teach Megan and John to read. Rosie had grown up so much, she jabbered and caused all sorts of mischief which lifted their spirits. Her new favorite thing was to take people’s shoes and hide them. 

She sat up, noticing that Harriet had come out and taken a seat on the porch. 

Since it had been announced a little over a week ago that the war was over, Harriet had taken to standing on the porch, watching. Though she never said why, Kesia knew it was in hope that Hiram would come home. They’d heard nothing since he left. Grief ached and pulled her to sit next to her cousin in silence. Harriet took her hand as they sat next to each other in silence. In her heart, Kesia prayed. 

“Father, unite us again under you and make all the sacrifice worth it, worth the unity Pa fought for and worth the freedom so many wanted. Make it worth the pain and horror so many like Josiah have gone through, the pain of every man, woman, and child affected by this war. I know you’re there because you pulled me through. I’d have never made it through this battle without you. But we’re still so broken down here. Some of us have yet to come home, yet to heal, yet to understand, yet to gain what we desire and we need you so much. But we will not stay broken. One day…one day the lost will return, broken things will be repaired, and this nation and family will unite again. We just need you, Lord. For yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. We have gone through the shadow of death and behold we stand at the end. Be the comfort you promised long ago, my Lord. Shepherd your people into one flock…”

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Liquid Monster

~Journal of the day the Japan Tsunami hit~

May 11, 2011 started like any normal day, but I remember all the details perfectly unlike any other. I’d biked to school with my older brother, Yuuto. It was beautiful out and the cherry blossoms were still in bloom, which was unusual for that time of year. I wasn’t very interested in the trees though. I’d raced inside ahead of Yuuto, slowing down once in the hall and walking to my locker looking around for Sumire, my best friend. I wanted to tell her about my birthday that was coming up and how my parents had said we could have a sleepover. I changed my shoes to my school slippers and bounced on my toes, then I saw her. She bounded through the front doors grinning and clenching her sticker book. She waved it over her head as she charged over to me, her short black hair bouncing around her face.

“Look!” She’d shouted at me, shoving the book in my hand and flipping it to a new page. She always made the pages decorative and usually placed a photo, a note, or a pressed flower in it. This particular page featured a picture of a girl, about a year old, in a Kimono.

Cho is Sumire’s cousin and the absolute cutest thing. Several other girls came over and squealed “Kawai” with me.

Sumire giggled and stuffed the book into her locker with her shoes rather than put it in her backpack. “I can’t wait to see her next week.”

As we walked to our homeroom, I told her about my birthday plans. Then, for the next few hours, the normal day’s activities commenced…. until the room began shaking.

Earthquakes, they never cease to terrify me, even more so now. This is the only moment I don’t remember clearly as I was frozen in fear. I’d never been in an earthquake so strong before. I suppose someone told us to get under our desks because Sumire grabbed my arm and dragged me to the ground. It didn’t stop shaking. Someone screamed and several girls cried. I thought it would never end. Then it finally stopped. I continued clutching the legs of my desk until I heard someone say it was alright.

When I stood, I noticed a huge crack in the ceiling. Dust was already sprinkling from it.

Sumire tapped my shoulder and pulled me into the evacuation line. We moved smoothly out onto the park where we all stood anxiously. I observed the other buildings nearby noticing one that had fallen, its red tile roof slanted in and scattered across the street. I looked around for Yuuto, but I couldn’t see him.

I’ve never been so afraid in my life as I was March 11th. Sumire tried calling her mom and dad and I texted my grandpa, but we never got to check for replies in all the running that came after. More earthquakes took place as we were led in an orderly but prompt fashion to higher ground, a nearby shrine. As we hiked up to the temple, other people from the town started joining us and parents began searching for their kids.

At the top, Sumire and I huddled together near a stone sculpture of a komainu and watched the other kids huddle into groups of friends. I finally spotted Yuuto who was running toward me. The ground rumbled again, shaking petals from the trees recklessly, just as he reached me. We stood there, looking over the city for several minutes and watching the stairs as people climbed up them. We noticed many houses were already caving and it looked like some power lines had fallen. Off in the distance there was smoke. I couldn’t have felt more suffocated with fear than if I’d been standing in that smoke myself.

It was some relief to see Sumire’s mom appear in the train of people. All three of us ran up to her. Many parents argued with teachers about whether to stay here or drive away.

I asked Yuuto if we were high enough. He promised we were. I watched Sumire and her mother leave and get into their car; it was then that I noticed it: houses disappearing in a blackish-brown haze in the distance. Silence came quickly among us at the shrine as more noticed it rushing toward us. Rushing isn’t even the right word for how it moved. It wiped houses flat in mere seconds as it hurtled closer.

I looked down at the road where cars were being scooped up and rolled amongst its debris like clothing in a washing machine, except it wasn’t cleaning. I looked desperately for Sumire’s car. I saw it. I saw it… right as the wave swallowed it. I screamed, but it didn’t stop. It leapt its way up toward us. Its muddy mass foamed like a rabid beast flicking its claws upward, it devoured everything… and roared as it did so.

Yuuto pulled me away as the water reached where we were, sweeping at out feet. We ran further up into the shrine; I saw some people lose their footing and they were sucked into the dark mass.

Yuuto and I huddled together under the bell amongst hundreds of others as the water swept beneath us dragging wood, rent metal, bodies… I closed my eyes and sobbed as I held onto Yuuto. He hugged me close, but I could still hear it. It sounded like the monster it appeared to be.

The water receded for a bit, but we didn’t consider ourselves safe. Everyone climbed higher up. I didn’t watch when a second wave rushed over, sweeping away the shrine. People were not silent anymore. I heard kids screaming and crying, calling for their parents. I heard mothers singing softly trying to keep their own horror from their voice. I heard teachers calling out names frantically, trying to make sure all the kids were still there. I heard the sound of the bell from the shrine being left by the wave, clanging against itself and the ground. I wished I couldn’t hear.

We stayed there for hours. It was cold. It smelled terrible, like salt and sewage. When we finally were told it was safe to go down, I was terrified. Yuuto kept his hand over my shoulder and I kept both arms wrapped around him as we went down the soggy slopes with our classes. When we made it back to the school, it was clear it could not be used for a shelter. Large sections had collapsed. Buildings in the area had seemingly vanished leaving only wood and mud and warped metal, many that still stood looked ready to collapse, some houses looked as if they had been turned upside down, and some burned. I wondered how they could possibly burn when they’d been pounded by the ocean.

I pulled out my phone and noticed there had been a message from grandpa before the tsunami hit. I wondered if he had made it to higher ground like he said he was heading to. I tried to message but there was no service. Yuuto squeezed me tight and when I looked up at him I could see the same fear written on his face that I saw in the other people around me. Some were covered in mud, bleeding, holding broken limbs, crying. Many held phones trying to call people but finding themselves out of luck just as I had.

Yuuto and I sat on a soggy mattress that had been swept into the schoolyard, if that was indeed what it was. One wouldn’t know by the piles of trash that had been caught by the fence. A car that was bent in two lied beside a uprooted tree as if the roots had been the vise like paws of an enormous creature. I saw a hand hanging from the car’s shattered window. I swallowed hard and wondered if it was possible that Sumire and her mother had survived. I wondered if we would ever see grandpa again. I wondered where we would go. I wondered how so much could change… It had been just a normal day.

I wonder if all disasters start like that.

Works Cited:

Gorgo, Paolo. Japan Earthquake: Internet a Communication Lifeline as Telephone Lines Fail. 14 

Mar. 2011. Seeking Alpha. 

https://seekingalpha.com/article/258078-japan-earthquake-internet-a-communications-lif

eline-as-telephone-lines-fail. Accessed 5 Feb. 2019. 

Johnson, Marcia L. Johnson, Jeffery R. Daily Life in Japanese High Schools. Oct. 1996. Freeman 

Spogli Institute. Stanford University.  

https://spice.fsi.stanford.edu/docs/daily_life_in_japanese_high_schools. Accessed 5 Feb. 

2019. 

Oskin, Becky. Japan Earthquake and Tsunami of 2011: Facts and Information. 13 Sep. 2017. 

Live Science. 

https://www.livescience.com/39110-japan-2011-earthquake-tsunami-facts.html. Accessed 5 Feb. 2019. 

Parry, Richard Lloyd. The School Beneath the Wave. 24 Aug. 2017. The Guardian. 

https://www.theguardian.com/world/2017/aug/24/the-school-beneath-the-wave-the-unim

aginable-tragedy-of-japans-tsunami. Accessed 5 Feb. 2019. 

Shaw, Rajib. Takeuchi, Yukiko. East Japan’s Earthquake and Tsunami. International 

Environment and Disaster Management Laboratory. Kyoto University. 

https://www.preventionweb.net/files/27138_03mrshaw.pdf. Accessed 5 Feb. 2019. 

What if there’s an earthquake at school? Kids Web Japan. 

https://web-japan.org/kidsweb/explore/schools/q6.html. Accessed 5 Feb. 2019. 

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RISE of the EARTHBORN (Chapter Twenty-Seven)

Decide

He will show him the way he should choose.

Psalm 25:12

“How long do we have before Pip tires?” Sem asked, his breath tickling her ear.

“With me, he can fly three, maybe three and half hours at a quick pace,” Sambeth replied and tugged a strand if her hair as she thought, “I don’t know how long he can go with the two of us. I’d try an hour and a half and see how he goes.”

“We need to head north,” he said. 

Sambeth nodded and he noticed the shimerith adjust his direction.

The shimerith was flying along smoothly. Sem noticed the change in his flying pattern when they changed course. Before must have been a cruising speed because now, instead of an easy, undulating movement, the wing beats were much faster. The shimerith set his head and neck as straight as an arrow, dropped his shoulders a little and sped through the air.

“Keep a sharp eye out for aerial predators,” Sambeth called over her shoulder, “as well as the Fallen One.” 

“I’ll watch this side,” he indicated to the right.

Sambeth scanned the sky behind, ahead and all around but still the beauty of the land falling underneath took her breath away. The sun was riding high overhead, their shadows falling straight beneath them. 

Sambeth had imagined the forest was an unending, limitless expanse of trees with few breaks but now, from above, she saw that this countryside changed continually.  There were vast stretches of thick, unbroken jungle but then a series of enormous meadows would unfold beneath them, dotted with many herds and different kinds of animals both familiar and unknown. She drank in the sight of gently undulating hills with beautiful clear streams springing between them. 

In a low place, sat a great lake. Many streams fed into it. It was crystal clear. The shapes of big and little fish as well as large aquatic beasts were easy to see in its tranquil waters. Sambeth had never seen such a vast stretch of water. As they flew along, she and Sem pointed out to one another different, interesting things but apart from that they were silent. Each locked in their own thoughts.

Every so often, Sambeth closed her eyes and pressed a hand to her face. Pip was warm underneath her. She savoured the texture of his fur. Sem was a solid presence behind yet still she felt terror and sorrow try to engulf her and fought it back. In less than a week she had seen her mother, the only person that cared for her, killed. She lost her home, found a refuge and lost it also.  She recalled Noesh’s idea to establish herself in Aresisia. That plan must stand. It was a beacon of hope, she clung to it grimly and prayed Proximus would not find her. 

“Sambeth.” 

She felt him squeeze her arm slightly.

“We’re veering off course.” 

Sem’s face was drawn. He pointed to the sun and then off in a direction different to their current trajectory. She frowned but he pointed again, leaning forward, his chin almost resting on her shoulder. 

“We should be going in that direction,” he insisted. 

She leaned forward and spoke to the beast. 

“Pip, veer right,” she called compellingly, tapping him on the right side of his neck and holding her arm in the direction. The shimerith cocked its head very slightly, a glint from his eye reaching her. Then he straightened out again and continued without altering course.

Sambeth turned her chin. Sem bent his head close to hers in order to hear against the rushing wind.

“He’s not listening, Sem.”

His eyes narrowed in worry as he gazed down the length of the enormous creature carrying them. 

“We’ve got to get to Tabun’s Cave. Ask him again,” he ordered. 

Sambeth stiffened, resenting the tone, and leaned away from him. Reluctantly, she did as he bid. 

“Pip, we need to change course. We must go that way.” 

Greater urgency coloured her voice. This time the shimerith dipped its head in annoyance. The deadly pronged tail lashed from side to side. The two on its back clutched onto the deep fur to avoid slipping off.

“Okay. Okay, Pip!” Sem cried and the undulating of the animal ceased.

“It’s no use,” Sambeth said calmly, “once he’s made up his mind, he won’t change it. We’ll just have to trust that he’s right.”

“He’s taking us miles off our course,” Sem fumed, worry causing him to speak more harshly than he meant to, “that’s bad, bad news for us.” 

Sambeth gave him an enigmatic, slanted glance from the corner of her eye. She gritted her teeth, lips set. The burn of resentment rose in her throat.  She remained silent. There was no point arguing about it.

They returned their full attention to scanning the skies. They were full of birds, thousands of them. Most of them were small, flitting here and there in clouds. The bigger birds were not so numerous, but they were there, frequently. Fortunately none of them showed any interest in the shimerith flying past except to sound a faint alarm.

She glanced at Sem a couple of times as she scanned far back on her side. He looked tense. The bile in her stomach settled. He would be anxious about his family, did they live or were they dead.  Being off course would be sending him over the edge. She forgave him. She would be harsh and more than that if she were in his place. 

Agnor was still tucked in tightly around his master, his head thrust through the crook of Sem’s arm. Why had Agnor, the most companionable of hounds, been running in the forest alone, she wondered. She thought of Sem’s parents. They would be worried sick about him, if they were alive.  Cold slashed a line down her cheek as a solitary tear slipped down and blew away in the wind of their passage.

She thrust away thoughts of Rija, who had trusted her to keep her safe. She and Rija had sworn to stay together, to be the family that neither of them had, but now Rija was far behind and Sambeth had to throw down the thought that she truly might not see her ever again.

“Are you okay?” 

A voice spoke in her ear, jolting her out of the dark jag of her thoughts. 

“I don’t know,” her voice was thick and clogged with unshed tears.

Sem turned her face, one finger under her chin. 

“I felt that,” he said, tracing the path of that one tear.  

Her eyes gazed into his, so full of fear and sorrow that his heart turned over.

He put his hand on her cheek, his long fingers curling around the back of her head.

“Trust me, Sambeth. We will be alright.”

She dashed the tears away savagely, holding her lips tight to stop them quivering.

” I’ve lost my mother and my home. And now Rija. Pip could fly away and never come back. Altor will definitely catch me one day. If I make it to Aresisia, I will be all alone.”

She twisted away, “I don’t know if I can do this.”

 He looked up in front of them. Her head was so much lower than his that he saw right over the top off the gleaming strands of hair. 

They both felt a shift in the shimerith, a change of pace.

“We’d better find a place to stop and rest,” she said, “Pip’s slowing a little. I think he’s tiring.”

“We need clear ground to land and to light a pretty decent fire to keep the animals away,” he replied. 

“Surely that’s too visible,” she protested, “Altor could find us or the Fallen One.” 

“Let’s find a clear spot to land safely and then see what we can find.” 

She nodded in agreement. 

Finding a clearing proved difficult. They were flying over dense forest. The trees were giants. Their trunks were massive in girth and the boughs as broad as a road. Pip began to circle making wide sweeping turns. There were no breaks among the great blanket of trees. Neither Sambeth nor Sem could see the ground through the clustered foliage.

“Is it worth landing in the trees?” Sem spoke in Sambeth’s ear. 

She jumped. She’d been so intent on looking for a landing spot. Pip decided for them. He straightened up out of his curving sweep and flew onward some minutes. The shimerith snaked his head down and from side to side. Then he swooped, his passengers clinging on tenaciously. Moments later he settled gently on a narrow strip of grass beside a deep, swiftly flowing river.

A quick look around the clearing showed nothing dangerous. It was picturesque with the rushing gurgle of the river and the lush green grass.

“We won’t be able to hear much with the noise of that river in our ears.” Sambeth said. 

Sem slipped off the shimerith in one smooth move. Immediately Agnor jumped down beside him.

“Clever Pip!” 

Sambeth stroked the shimerith where the long neck joined the sturdy, muscular shoulder. 

“This is a nice spot but are we safe here?” 

She spoke to herself. She was busy scanning the forest beside them as well as beyond the river. She hadn’t yet dismounted.

“There are no animal tracks leading up to the water,” she called to Sem. 

Sem was walking around the clearing, scanning the ground, looking around for signs of large predators, possible camping spots and food. Agnor followed one pace behind, wherever he went.

“Sambeth, I don’t think we’ll have any unwelcome visitors. I can’t see any animal signs at all. It’s a bit odd really.”

She didn’t want to leave the warm safety of Pip’s back. He, too, was highly alert. His dark eyes flickered from side to side. She noticed that his wings were not folded down, tucked neatly in their resting position. Instead they were held slightly out from his body, poised and ready for a quick lift off. He lifted his head suddenly higher, nostrils wide, sniffing the air. A tremor ran through him. Should she dismount, seeing as Pip was unsettled, she wondered?

The strong neck curved up and Pip peered around and beyond the line of tree tops.

“Sem,” she called as Pip trumpeted an alarm. 

“Get down. Get off quick!” Sem yelled the urgency in his voice prompting an intense fear response in her.

Without hesitating, Sambeth slipped off Pip’s back and ran toward Sem. He raced toward her, Agnor close behind. In two heartbeats they met in the middle of the clearing.  He gathered her in, against his side and pulled her back to safety.  She turned back to Pip.

Pip’s whole body was taut and quivering. His eyes searched the sky. Then she saw them. Two, three, four, five shimerith flying in a V formation. They screamed when they spotted the four on the ground, whether at their fellow shimerith or because of the humans, Sambeth was unsure. Sem grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the trees. 

“Come on,” he cried.

The wild shimerith banked, screaming again and this time Pip flung himself upward in one mighty thrust. The wind from the beating of his powerful wings tumbled them forward into the underbrush.  They sprawled on the ground. Sambeth looked up through the tops of the tall grass waving above her. She saw the strange shimerith swerve and dip. Pip flew across their path and they altered their course and met him in the sky. For a moment they reared up, suspended in mid-air. Then as one they wheeled about and flew off into the distance.  A pang of sorrow bit into her heart as she watched Pip, her shimerith, streaking off into the distance with them.

“Did he just leave us, or save us?” Sem whispered.

She turned her head, still flung out in the grass, and met Sem’s eyes. A great huff of dog breath filled her nostrils as Agnor thrust his nose in their faces, checking they were alright.

“I don’t know,” she said bleakly. Without Pip she felt vulnerable in this vast, unknown wilderness, “I must find him. I must go back and get Rija. I must–“

“Shh,” he laid a hand across her mouth for a moment. 

The warm, clean smell of his skin drifted over her. He lifted himself up on one elbow and gazed deeply into her eyes.

“Sambeth, come with me,” he pleaded, searching her face with dark, intense eyes, “I swear I will take you far from here, far from Arca and all who seek to hurt you.”

She blinked and swallowed, thrown by his nearness and keenly aware that she lay stretched on the ground beside a stranger. How could she trust him when so recently the question of her heritage had caused him to recoil in horror?

She scrambled up and he leapt to his feet also. Now she had to crane her head to see his face.

“I don’t know what to do,” she said fiercely, “your family is everything to you and they have rejected me.”

“Trust me,” he urged, echoing the throbbing question in her mind, “come with me to Aresisia. Rija will be there and the people will thank you for their lives. I know it.”

He took her face in his hands, urging her to agree, “We will survive the Forest and Pip may return to you along the way.”

She swayed, caught by the intensity in his gaze. Over his shoulder she saw the last shimerith vanish out of sight. Without the shimerith, there was no choice for her. She sighed and looked back at the urgent dark eyes of the man in front of her.

“I’ll come,” she said huskily, “I’ll come with you, Sem.”

She gazed after Pip and dashed a tear from her eye. Beside her, strong and capable, stood the youngest son of the fabled Noesh. If anyone could help her escape Altor and make her way to Aresisia safely, it would be him.

They both searched the sky, willing the shimerith to return. A faint noise reached their ears. A stirring, rushing sound that was faint but quickly grew louder. It took Sambeth right back to the clearing where she shivered in terror, hidden under a prickly bush, as Altor took the Sacrifice belonging to his father. The hair on her arms rose.

“Oh no,” Sambeth whispered. 

She drew back, edging her back into the foliage and crouched low until ferns nodded over her head and she was completely concealed. Beside her, Sem did the same, holding Agnor close. They kept utterly still, watching. Overhead, something rushed by, outlined by a faint glow. It was moving fast and in the direction of the vanished shimerith. Proximus, the Fallen One, searching for them. Strong fingers wrapped around her hand and held it tight until the Fallen One was gone. She glanced at Sem. Without another word they slipped back into the dark tangle of the Endless Forest.

͠

Hello dear Reader,

Thank you for reading this book!  I loved writing about this girl and plunging through the forest by her side.  After the difficulty of losing her mother and finding shelter with people who abhor Earthborns, she still has no option but to flee with Sem to try and rejoin them. In the next part of the story, Sem is unable to hold off an enemy and Sambeth is taken by them. She experiences rough Qtreatment in the hands of the Panther People and their Kandace and is marked for death.  

Fear of the Earthborn

In the talons of the panther…
Journeying through the Endless Forest with Sem and the faithful Agnor, Sambeth is desperate to reach the city of Aresisia where Sem’s people are. They will know if her friend, Rija, survived the Earthborn attack on the hidden fortress. 

Panthers lurk in the forest as well as a people who worship the Panther spirit. They believe Sambeth is chosen by the Panther and seek her life. Suffering in their hands, Sambeth must think quickly or she will end up as a sacrifice to their god and never reach her destination.
https://www.amazon.com/Fear-Earthborn-panther-Sambeth-Primordial-ebook/dp/B091YRKXTG

 Reviews – sharing your reading experience by posting a review on Amazon or Goodreads would be a massive assistance in getting Sambeth’s story out into the wide world and I’d be forever grateful ;).
 

Kind regards – Emma.

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RISE of the EARTHBORN (Chapter Twenty-Six)

A People With No Home

He led his people through the wilderness.

Psalm 136:16

The secret exit came out miles from Tetrahin.  Once outside the tunnel, Noesh paused and surveyed the strained group around him.  

There are too many of us, he thought despairingly. The mothers with young children worried him the most. They would find any journey, whether it be to Aresisia or Arca, taxing, frightening and dangerous.

One approached him, her young face pale under its already pale skin. A baby peeped over her shoulder through the thick mane of red hair. Three others clustered around her legs, gripping folds in her loose clothing. He recognised her as the recently widowed Setta. 

“Where are we going, Noesh?” her quiet voice was determined. 

He tried to look calm and confident. His face was kind as he spoke.

“We must go far away, Setta.” 

“Why, lord? Why so suddenly and quickly? I’ve no food or clothing for the children,” she gazed around the forest nervously, “what will we do out here?”

T’ajar stepped closer to Setta, putting a hand on her shoulder. Noesh cleared his throat.

“We’re heading for the Tabun’s Cave. We must go as fast as we can. No telling how close the intruders are on our tails.” 

His brows snapped together in a sudden frown alarming the young woman waiting for assurance in front of him. T’ajar, in a quiet aside, urged Setta to keep near them for help with her children.

The frown remained, heavy on his brow. The betrayal of Tetrahin was a terrible blow. The lives of so many innocents now rested in his hands.  He ground his teeth thinking of his nephew. Ah yes, Amis that son of a difficult and abrasive woman. He wondered how sweet T’ajar could have such a horrible tartar for a sister but why had she betrayed them all?

Jaffith and Ajalon appeared in front of him.

“Father.” 

Both were breathing hard. 

Noesh pushed his heavy thoughts from him and lifted his eyebrows enquiringly. 

The two exchanged a brief glance, the one so tall and fair, the other dark and lithe. 

“Rija didn’t come back,” Ajalon said quietly. 

“Something prevented her from returning,” Jaffith corrected his brother, looking at his father anxiously. 

Noesh stared at them unspeaking, a stricken look around his eyes. Jaffith reached out a concerned hand and gripped his shoulder.

“Father,” he said tentatively, “are you alright?”

Noesh’s mouth worked, he cleared his throat and whispered hoarsely, “Get me Jared.”

Jaffith kept his hand on his father’s shoulder but Ajalon turned and ran. Noesh’s thoughts were spinning. The girl had gone back to her chamber to collect her things. Why hadn’t she returned. Had the enemy already been within the walls of Tetrahin?

Ajalon returned, Jared close behind. Noesh took a ragged breath and looked at the worried face of his loyal, reliable Jared.

“Jared…” his voice was still hoarse. 

The man nodded respectfully. 

“We’ve lost another…” Noesh’s voice trailed off. 

He couldn’t bring himself to say it. His beloved, vivid son Sem, that vulnerable, very young girl, Sambeth and now it seemed that he, Noesh, had also lost a princess.

He closed his eyes, a wave of despair washing over him. He felt the pressure of Jaffith’s broad, long-fingered hand on his shoulder. He reached up and grabbed it, giving a grateful squeeze in return.

Jared confirmed his worst fears. In their well-trained efficiency, the men of his household guard had sealed all doors in order to slow down the enemy. They had believed all persons to be gathered with Noesh and the people. Jared was appalled and shaken when he realised what had happened. He had trapped a young woman inside Tetrahin. She was alone to face the enemy.

“Father,” Jaffith spoke quietly, his voice coming from above Noesh’s head, “can we send someone back?” 

Noesh knew who Jaffith had in mind and shook his head.

“I’m sorry, son, we can’t–“

“But, Rija?” Jaffith’s voice cracked over her name. 

Noesh gripped Jaffith’s arms, his faces inches away from that of his tall son. The heaviness of grief drew deep lines on his face.

“If there were any way,” Noesh rasped, “but there are many here that need your leadership.”

Jaffith lifted his eyes toward Tetrahin.

“So, that poor girl will be taken by that wicked aberration after all?”

His throat worked and he dashed a quick hand across his eyes.

“Maybe,” Noesh laid a hand on Jaffith’s arm, something stirring in his soul, “but have faith. I’m sure she was brought to us for a reason. She may evade Altor yet.”

Jaffith dragged his eyes from the distant rocky outcrop that marked Tetrahin’s location and fastened on his father’s face.

“Do you really believe that, father?” 

Noesh met his gaze squarely, “I don’t know it but something tells me I’m right.”

Jaffith finally nodded. He became aware that the people were milling around them, uncertainty and fear written all over their faces. 

“The people need you,” he said to Noesh.

After a minute the old man’s eyes cleared and he looked up at his son, determination returning.  He nodded to both his sons and set about putting courage into the hearts of the people.

Jaffith and Ajalon had already pulled off a marvellous feat by rounding up every person – young, old and mischievous. They had organised what supplies and weapons they could in the few moments before leaving. Then they had rallied and chivvied frightened and reluctant clans people up the dark and dusty, unused tunnel leading out from underneath Tetrahin, far, far out into the frightening, Endless Forest.

Now Noesh put them in charge of two groups. Ajalon and a handful of the men would guide the group of mothers and children, the women and supplies to Tabun’s Cave. Ajalon was imposing and tolerated no nonsense, handy for keeping children in line. 

Jaffith and the other men would shepherd the old men and women and equipment. Jaffith was steady and kind.

Reluctantly, Noesh put T’ajar into her middle son’s care.

“Stay with Ajalon, my dear. He will need your assistance with the women and children.” 

She nodded calmly, “And you?” 

“I will go ahead with my men and see if the path is clear.” 

She reached forward and hugged him hard. She knew he took the most dangerous task. For all that he was of great age, Noesh was as fit and hardy as any man. His eyesight was still keen and his hearing undimmed. She smiled at him with pride.

“Go, my love,” she said, “and we shall meet you there.” 

He straightened under the obvious warmth and confidence in her eyes.

A loud explosion split the air. Every eye turned in stunned alarm. Far behind them, where their home lay hidden, a plume of thick, dark smoke climbed steeply up into the air.

“Ajalon!” Noesh called. 

He was at his side in a moment. 

“What do you think?” 

Noesh watched the keen, intelligent face turned toward the billowing column. Ajalon stared for a moment.

“Something has torn up Tetrahin, or someone. I had heard rumours in Arca, that the army had the power to cause a building to disintegrate in a cloud of dust.”

“Mmmm,” his father responded absently and Ajalon waited. 

“I’d say it is the Fallen One,” Noesh said at last.

He spun around, then paused and turned back to his son.

“He won’t find all of Tetrahin, son, her tunnels run deep. Our most precious secrets will remain hidden,” a bitter smile curled his lips, “and they don’t have the power to destroy entire buildings…yet.” 

His gaze was enigmatic, enough to make Ajalon pause and realise that the depths of his father’s intelligence eclipsed his own.

Noesh became aware of weeping sounds all around him. With a start he realised that the women were crying for their home. Sorrow tinged his heart again.

“Father,” Ajalon’s voice was terse, his hand gripped his father’s arm. He nodded toward the trees and pointed, “someone approaches.”

Noesh swung about, squinting. An exclamation burst from his lips.

“It’s Reuben and Resus!” 

Two mounted figures emerged from the forest, leading a horse behind them. It’s saddle was empty.

“But no Amis.” 

The men swung from the saddle and surged forward to Noesh.

“My lord,” they bowed, “did young Amis find you?” 

Noesh shook his head, mystified.

Reuben was grave, “He entered Tetrahin by a secret way. He said you showed it to him.” 

He looked at Noesh for affirmation and the old man nodded again.

“When?” 

“We saw the battle. Many wild creatures emerged from the forest and almost wiped Altor out. We saw Sem and Sambeth flying.” 

Reuben swallowed, the memory of that vision too difficult to retell.

“On a shimerith?” Ajalon leaned forward, his tone anxious. 

Reuben looked from Ajalon to Noesh straitly.

“They were on a flying beast, my lord. They were fine until the Fallen One attacked them.” 

Noesh swayed. He stood, tense and pale, supported by Ajalon as Reuben told of the great feats he witnessed in the sky.

Reuben looked at Resus, who nodded. Reuben turned his head and resolutely fastened his eyes on Noesh.

“There is still more, lord, and it sounds impossible.”

“Go on,” Noesh ordered.

“We saw Altor and his war band heading straight for Tetrahin. We were helpless to do anything to stop them. Then we felt a ripple, a something I cannot describe, like a wash of air passing through the forest and over us and that’s when they appeared on all sides, out of nowhere.”

“Who?” Noesh was hoarse.

“The animals, lord. All manner of beasts, great and small. They threw themselves upon Altor’s men until it seemed the Earthborn would be torn to pieces. Just as suddenly, the animals froze and melted back into the forest.”

Reuben looked down and kicked a tuft of grass. His eyes flickered away from Noesh and colour surged in his cheeks.

Noesh put his hand to his chest and closed his eyes. 

“Thank the Other. He bought us time,” he breathed out a long, shaky gust of air. 

“You believe us, lord?” Reuben’s mouth hung open but he looked relieved.

Noesh gave a short nod, his mind already racing ahead to other things, “What about Proximus?”

Reuben shook his head, “I don’t know. He was wounded by Sem and suffered the flame of the shimerith but he was whole. One moment he hung in the sky, the next he was gone.”

“Ehyeh preserve us,” Noesh whispered, “Proximus will be hot after us. We must move!”

Reuben nodded and saluted before he raced away to help Jaffith.

“Amis must have entered Tetrahin and met Rija,” Ajalon spoke in his father’s ear. 

“Unless they were both captured,” Noesh replied, his eye dropping on Jaffith talking to his mother.

“Say nothing, father, until we know for sure,” Ajalon’s dark face was serious and Noesh found himself agreeing. 

“We must take the people to Aresisia and pray Sem finds us along the way.”

It was Ajalon’s turn to look thoughtful, “And if he shows up with that Earthborn girl, what will you do?”

“I will beg her forgiveness for our treatment of her and inquire of the Other what His plans are for her.”

Ajalon frowned but he took a deep breath and gazed at his father with sincerity in his eyes, “Very well, father. This time I will listen to you.”

To Chapter Twenty-Five
To Chapter Twenty-Seven

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RISE of the EARTHBORN (Chapter Twenty-Five)

Far Away From Here

Take your journey into the wilderness

Deuteronomy 8:40

“Which way is Aresisia?” Sambeth called over her shoulder. 

The sun was rising higher in the sky now. The air was dense and rich. The light shone pinkish across the sky. Sem glanced at the sun and twisted back to look at the direction of Tetrahin, falling further and further behind them. 

“Look!” Sambeth cried. 

Sem followed the direction of her arm and spotted a familiar greyish-brindle shape slipping through the trees and out into an open stretch. 

“Agnor!” 

Sambeth flinched at the loud bellow blasting next to her ear but she saw the dog start and look around. 

“Can we–?” Sem began.

“Yes,” she answered. 

Without prompting, Pip slowed drastically and slipped down low to skim slowly across the ground. Sem called out again to the giant hound. Agnor saw his beloved master and stopped, peering uncertainly but he trusted Sem and held his ground.

As the shimerith passed Sem called, “Now Agnor.” 

The dog raced and sprang as Sem leaned far over. He hooked an arm around the dog’s neck and drew his head up on his lap at the same time he swung Agnor’s body behind him. There he was, in one neat move, sitting behind Sem with his head still tucked under his master’s arm.

The shimerith climbed steeply, levelling off as he surpassed the tree tops. Sambeth was concentrating on keeping a tight grip.

“Did you get him?” she called back.

She heard Sem say yes but she couldn’t quite believe it until she looked around and saw for herself. 

There that dog lay, leaning in tightly, curving around his master’s back, head poking through the crook of his arm. Her eyes met Sem’s, eyebrows raised. 

“How did you do that?”  

“He often leaps up behind me on the horse,” Sem explained, “he’s done it ever since he was a young pup and got tired on the hunt. We can even gallop like this.”  

She turned back around and leaned over Pip’s shoulder, laying along the long neck, “Fly, Pip. Fly. Take us far from here. Proximus is out there somewhere and he’ll be back.”

To Chapter Twenty-Four
To Chapter Twenty-Six

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RISE of the EARTHBORN (Chapter Twenty-Four)

Rija & Amis

The day of their calamity is at hand.

Deuteronomy 32:35

Rija watched Noesh giving his orders with calm efficiency. 

I wonder what he is going to do about Sem. 

Looking at him, so smoothly organising the evacuation of an entire people, she could believe his missing son was the furthest thing from his mind. He turned his face and his deep set eyes caught hers. For a second, she saw it, raw emotion held back by an iron will. His mouth hardened and once more he was the superb leader, saving them all.  

‘Please let Sem have found her,‘ she prayed silently. 

Sambeth was out there, alone in the forest, unless Sem had caught up with her and who knew if he had or not?

‘I will not leave,’ she told herself but simultaneously she acknowledged that it was a stupid and reckless idea.  

The Noeshiri were leaving, Altor would probably find Tetrahin and if she remained she would be captured.  She wondered if she should allow herself to be captured so these people could get away safely.  An image of Altor, tearing those innocent girls to pieces, rose before her. No! She could not become the woman of a monster like him.

“I’ll quickly fetch some items from my chamber,” she called to T’ajar. 

The woman nodded distractedly and turned to leave, Noesh by her side. 

A hand fell on her arm. It was Jaffith.

“Rija, be quick, don’t delay,” he said, his breath warm and sweet on her face. 

She stared back into his concerned eyes, conflicted by the urge to go with him and the need to stay at Tetrahin for Sambeth.

“Okay,” she agreed, “I’ll hurry.”

She would leave with the people but she would look for a way to find Sambeth, she swore silently.

Ajalon stood by the open doorway.

“Don’t be long, Princess,” he mocked, “Noesh has ordered us all to leave and I’m to throw you over my shoulder if you refuse.” 

Rija gave him a flat, disdainful look and slid out the door.

She hurried down the deserted corridors.  She must change her clothes, pack a bag and get her knife. The chamber felt eerily empty. A quick search told her what she already suspected, Sambeth had put all her survival gear in the pack that Rija glimpsed under her chair. 

She had planned to go Outside. Rija swallowed, feeling the sting of tears at the back of her eyes. Had Sambeth planned a solitary walk or had she planned to leave without her?

Rija shook her head.

‘Get a hold of yourself,’ she told herself sternly, ‘and have a little faith in your friend.’ 

In moments she was dressed in forest gear and had everything she needed stowed in her own pack.

“Come on, Rija. Hurry,” she whispered and flung out of the chamber letting the heavy door fall shut by itself. 

From the shadows, a dark figure stepped out and stood in front of her. She let out a small exclamation of fright, straining to see the face looming above her. He bent down a little.

“It’s me, Rija,”  Amis said quietly.

“Amis!” she exclaimed, “How did you get into Tetrahin – without the war band seeing you?” 

A sudden hope rose. If Amis slipped in past them, maybe Sambeth could too.

“There is a way into Tetrahin that not many know about.”

“We got your message, Amis,” she searched his face carefully, “and everyone is leaving, “Quick, we must get back to the others.”

“Yes,” he said urgently, “I need to tell Noesh something very important.” 

A quiet feeling of alarm tickled at the back of her mind. She studied him consideringly. She didn’t know if he had betrayed Tetrahin or if he was, as he claimed in his message, innocent.

“What is it?” she asked.

Her stomach tightened in a coil of alarm. A dark thread of suspicion rose in her mind.

His face set as he recognised her train of thoughts and darkened in anger. It would always be like this. The poison dropped by his mother would remain, clouding his reputation and standing amongst the Noeshiri.

“Rija, I saw the war band. It’s close and I also saw Sem and Sambeth.” 

He bent down closer so that Rija could see his eyes. They were earnest.

“They were riding the shimerith.”

He ran a hand through his hair distractedly, a move like that of Sem. She remembered they were close, like brothers.

She gasped as the full import of his words hit her.

“You mean they were together?” 

He nodded.

Rija’s heart pounded. Sambeth was alive and she wasn’t alone. If Sem was with her then most likely she hadn’t intended to leave Tetrahin for good. Rija was filled with renewed determination.  There was something about Sambeth. She had a superstitious feeling that as long as she stayed with her the Earthborn Altor would always be defeated. 

Amis was speaking, “The shimerith flew off with them in the wrong direction, not the way to Aresisia. I must speak to Noesh, to tell him this and work out a plan to catch up with them.”

“You mean Sambeth’s shimerith was flying in the wrong direction?” she said slowly. He nodded and she continued, “but perhaps they simply veered back around, corrected course and will meet us at the Cave.”

Amis began to turn away, shaking his head.

“That’s not an assumption I’m prepared to take. That shimerith could have taken them anywhere. I have to try and find him.”

She believed him. She watched as his strides lengthened and realised she was still rooted to the spot. She hurried after him.

“How will you find them?” she called.  

“I’ll find a way,” he said over his shoulder.

Weaving through the corridors, she had to half run to keep up with his swift pace. They were almost back to the others when they reached a closed door.  Amis pulled up sharp and tugged at the handle. Puffing slightly she stepped up beside him, wondering why he had stopped. He rattled the door handle again, twisting it roughly. An exclamation in frustration slammed balled up fists against the heavy wood. Her mouth dropped open as she saw the evidence with her own eyes.

The door was not going to open.  Jared and his men had already sealed it fast.   She and Amis were trapped on the wrong side.  

“No!” Amis shouted, “This can’t be happening.” 

He kicked the door savagely and tugged at the knob again. 

“Ugggghhh!” he kicked the door again.

Leaning his back against it he drove both hands into his hair and slid to a sitting position on the ground. His breath rasped deep in his throat. Tight-lipped, he remained still, deep in thought.

“Well, we are totally stuffed now,” he said finally and climbed to his feet.

“They didn’t wait for me,” she said in disbelief, “Jaffith himself told me to hurry back before Jared sealed the doors.”

“Then he’s going to be extremely upset,” Amis grinned, casting her a knowing glance. “I’d hate to be Commander Jared when Jaffith realises.”

Rija coloured and a pain in her chest settled and refused to shift. A surge of panic knifed through her.

“What will we do now?” she said, a picture of Altor’s beautiful, cruel face appearing in her mind’s eye. 

He was close now. He would find Tetrahin and then he would find her. Her breathing became ragged and she dropped into a defensive crouch unknowingly.

“Hey!” Amis whispered softly, “We’ll try the way I came in.” 

Rija remained still, so he stepped forward and shook her arm lightly.

“Come on, Rija! This way.” 

Slowly she straightened up. Amis gestured for her to follow him.

“Let’s go,” he said briskly, “I’ve got to keep you safe. I don’t want to face an angry Jaffith either.” 

His attempt at humour fell flat.

“Amis,” she said quietly and he stopped, “will we be able to rejoin the others?” 

He looked down at her sombrely, a crease between his brows. She noticed his jaw clenching and unclenching. 

“Will we?” she persisted.

He shook his head. 

“The others are heading down a tunnel leading to a cave many miles away.  Our way out is going to put us on the other side of Tetrahin, with that army in between us and the way to the cave.”

“So, we’ll either get caught or lead the war band right to the people?”

He nodded. 

“Well, we are stuffed then,” she said with uncharacteristic coarseness. 

She sucked in a deep breath and brushed the hair back from her face in a quick gesture.

“What’s the plan, then?”

Amis tapped his fingers absently against his thigh and made a quick decision.

“We’ll travel through the forest, the long way around. It will take us longer to reach Tabun’s Cave but it may also take us across Sem and Sambeth’s path.”

A thunderous explosion sounded. It shook the air around them.  

“Looks like the enemy has found the front door,” he said, “let’s go.” 

He set off at a run. Rija followed him through low doorways and around narrow passages. Finally, he stopped in front of a floor to ceiling cupboard set back in the rock of the wall.

To Rija’s surprise, he pulled the cupboard door open. It was deep and it was empty.

“In here.” 

Gingerly, she followed him inside. The cupboard was a big one. She and Amis fit comfortably.

He leaned past her and shut the door. The blackness was complete.  A small light flickered and Amis set a flame at the top of a small torch. At the back of the cupboard, he poked one long finger into a jagged knot in the wood and pressed. Rija heard a click and the wooden panel swung ajar. In front of Amis, a black tunnel yawned. 

He took her arm and pulled her through. 

“Here, hold this,” he thrust the torch into her hand and pushed the wooden panel shut. 

He dropped a heavy bar across the door and then another.  Even if the back of the cupboard were tapped, no telltale echo would alert the invaders to the presence of a secret tunnel. 

“I can’t believe Noesh doesn’t know about this,” she said faintly.

“He does,” he replied and swooped the torch deftly out of her hand. 

He paused and shot her a significant glance.

“How do you think I know about it?”  

“Do Sem and the others know?”

“Only me.”

Without another word, he set off down the sloping tunnel leaving Rija to mull over a multitude of questions.  Why had Noesh showed him this tunnel and not his own sons?  

She shook her head to clear her thoughts. 

That Noesh, he was an enigma.

“Plans within plans,” she said aloud. 

Amis was too far ahead of her to hear.  Looking at his shadowy back, Rija couldn’t believe that again, she was walking into the dangers of the Forest with a virtual stranger. And Amis was either the saviour of the Noeshiri or a traitor to them all.

To Chapter Twenty-Three
To Chapter Twenty-Five

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RISE of the EARTHBORN (Chapter Twenty-Three)

Altor

…they were the terror of the mighty in the land of the living (the Nephilim).

Ezekiel 32:27

Altor strode over the bloodstained field. A deathly hush hung over the broken and battered bodies strewn about. 

‘Cark…cark..caaaaark…’a solitary crow hopped nearby. 

Altor snarled at it, daring it to come closer. The crow hopped closer again. It cocked its jet black head to one side and fastened a shrewd, milky eye on Altor. 

I’m not afraid of you, it seemed to say. 

Altor’s expression changed. A frisson, like a chill, started at the nape of his neck, tingling down his spine. He did not recognise the sensation at first then it dawned on him. It was fear.

The animals had come, stealing through the forest on padded paws, others swung through the trees with fierce intent. The brush of heavy bodies made the wild jungle whisper and sigh. The birds cried in alarm and then in fury. The roar of lions and bears swelled, the scream of the mighty boar-like Atedin joined in and the ground shook with thunder of their feet. Without hesitation the animals threw themselves upon Altor and his men.

Altor’s army defended themselves with everything they had but no weapon or shield could withstand the forest creatures, maddened with an unearthly rage.

That crow knew, and so did Altor, that the attack of forest animals, great and small, had not been defeated on this battlefield. At the crescendo of the fight, every animal paused and lifted their heads high, listening. An unearthly voice, felt rather than heard, called them and in a moment all were gone, slipping away into the thick, fastness of the forest.

A handful of men were left standing, bewildered at the sudden disappearance of their foe and the strange quiet had fallen. Now only the crow stared out of his bold, beady eyes and Altor was discomfited.

“Aaargghhh!” 

A shout tore from his throat and he shook his massive head, sending the waving hair dancing over his shoulders. He lifted a fist and thrust it high in the air, staring up into the sky.

“You will not win!” 

The echoes screamed back at him, amplifying his voice as if mocking him. 

From all directions across the gruesome field a remnant of men streamed toward the towering Earth-Born. He was at his finest, gathering them in with a nod, a handshake, an acknowledging grunt. A gleam of pleasure lit his face when Ittai led his muscled horse to him and wordlessly handed him the reins. The magnificent black animal was miraculously unharmed.

“Follow me,” Altor was short and sharp, “we will go forward to find the fortress.” 

There was some protest but Altor would not have it. 

“We did not come thus far to turn back now. We have spilled our blood on the battlefield and lost our friends and brothers. To turn now dishonours both them and us.”

Ittai gazed at the bloodied, dirt stained faces around him. No one dared to nay say Altor, even now. They all knew that something other worldly had happened and had no clue what it was. Fear stalked every survivor. They were afraid of what lurked in the deep forest and afraid of Altor too.  Ittai felt pity for them. As second under Altor, he felt responsible for them and since most of this small band of survivors were of his own tough, hardy tribesmen, that feeling doubled.

Silently they all followed Altor up the rise and over. Curiously, it seemed as if a trail had been deliberately left for them. The trackers found the entrance easily although, without the deliberate trail, Ittai was doubtful if they could have uncovered the Fortress. It was cunningly embedded in the rocky hillside.

They stole along empty, echoing passages, investigating every room and corner, until they reached the heart of the fortress. Looking into a room, Altor came to a dead halt. Ittai saw the muscles in his back and shoulders bunch and stand out. Altor bounded into a stately room and yelped. It was a strange sound and brought Ittai to a wrenching halt.

There, lounging comfortably before a fireplace sat the arresting figure of Proximus. To say Altor was astonished was truly an understatement. He stared at his father and it was moments before he could speak. The pungent scent of burnt feathers filled the air.

“F…father.” 

He faltered, the passion and excitement coursing through his entire body along with the sudden shock caused him to stutter. 

“Altor,” Proximus said languidly, merely flicking a short glance at his son from the corners of his eyes. 

He returned to staring at a portrait on the wall, ignoring his third-born son. 

“I see you understood the trail I left for you and had the wits to follow it.”

“Father! How did you come here? Are you hurt? Where is she? Do you have her?” 

Altor plunged forward. He flung himself on one knee at his father’s side, gripping his hand and bringing to his lips. Proximus left it there a moment then deliberately disengaged. 

“Tsch, Altor,” he murmured. 

Curiously, the small sound brought colour surging to the smooth, arrogant cheek of the son. Altor leapt to his feet and stood straight, hands behind him. A short silence stretched between the father and son. 

“Father, I lost sight of you when the shimerith attacked. How did you come here? Were the rebels in situ when you arrived? Do you have her? 

Ittai hovering in the doorway signalled to his men to gather and wait. Who knew what poisonous and deadly men Proximus had posted throughout the rebel fortress.

Proximus sighed and turned his eyes upon Altor. 

“No, my son. They had made their escape before I penetrated the outer entrance to this fortress.”

“But how, Father, did you know where to find it?”

“A very useful spy,” Proximus drawled, “hell hath no fury like a vengeful, ambitious woman.” 

He laughed quietly and the sound echoed eerily.

“Father, what is this place?” Altor asked. 

Proximus looked briefly around the room and back at the portrait on the wall, tapping one hand on his thigh. He sighed and looked at his son.

“It belongs to someone I have wanted to find for a long time,” he pointed to the finely painted picture on the wall. 

A trick of the eyes made it seem that they followed the viewer around the room.

“Noesh,” he finished. 

Ittai, waiting at the door, gasped in shock. The name Noesh was familiar to him. It seemed that Altor had kept pertinent information from him. A cold feeling gripped the pit of his stomach and he was profoundly relieved that they had found no one at Tetrahin. 

Proximus swung around at the slight gasp and stared at Ittai, still standing guard at the door. With a wave of his hand he made it clear that Ittai was dismissed. Nodding, Ittai withdrew and started to pull the massive door shut. Altor’s men were to protect him but not from his father and they were never permitted to listen to the Fallen One’s plans.

Ittai hoped the Fallen One would give up and return to Arca. He shivered. If not, Noesh was in terrible danger and he, Ittai, would be caught up in the middle between a master he hated and a friend he would be ordered to kill. 

As the door settled into place he heard Proximus speak.

“I must leave you to chase after your beauty, Altor. To find Noesh, I must find the other girl. She will try to rejoin him. The sky trail of the shimerith is still fresh.”

To Chapter Twenty-Two
To Chapter Twenty-Four

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RISE of the EARTHBORN (Chapter Twenty-Two)

The Enemy Comes

At the noise of the tumult the people shall flee.

Isaiah 33:3

T’ajar met Noesh at the door of the dining hall. 

“Thank goodness you’ve come!” she rushed unto his arms. 

She looked so stressed that he paused. Gripping her upper arms, he held her away searching her face.

“Sem told me about Sambeth’s dream and Ajalon’s gracious reception of it.”

She flipped her hand to the dining room behind her.

“It did sound overly dramatic,” she confessed, “I couldn’t help but agree with Ajalon.”

She was thrown when her husband failed to echo her sentiment. Dropping her arms, Noesh strode into the room, tension and displeasure radiating from him.

“Where is she?” he demanded, looking around at each startled face turned up to his. 

Rija and Jaffith looked as though they were doing their best to ignore the tense atmosphere. Ajalon had returned. He leaned back insouciantly in his chair, a half eaten stick of bread held in one hand.

He looked startled when Noesh stood in front of him, bristling.  He cleared his throat.

“Er…she left.” 

Noesh bent a stern eye on his middle son and let the silence draw out. Ajalon’s colour changed and he shifted uncomfortably under that piercing gaze.

“She left?” Noesh looked truly horrified. 

Nobody said a word. He glanced back down at Ajalon, who had at least shown enough grace to straighten in his seat.  

“You’ve certainly outdone yourself today, Ajalon,” he snapped, “go and find her. Bring her here. I want to hear – no, I need to hear everything she said.” 

All the assembled faces; Jaffith, Rija, Ajalon and T’ajar, looked stunned. Nobody stirred. 

“Move!” Noesh bellowed.  

Ajalon rose from his chair slowly, an odd look forming on his face. “Father, I–“

His father threw up a hand, cutting off Ajalon’s words.

“You went too far today,” he said with uncharacteristic coldness. 

Ajalon dropped his eyes, “I just–“

Noesh cut him off again.

“You’ve made it your business to be as obnoxious as possible to that girl ever since she arrived here.” 

Now they were all staring at Noesh open mouthed.

“…and I hope you haven’t endangered us all by not listening to her this morning.”

Ajalon held his father’s gaze steadily as he spoke. When he paused, Ajalon swung out of the room.

“I’ll go find her,” he said in a clipped voice.

Noesh gritted his teeth, the muscles in the jaw clenching as he watched his son leave the room. He swung around to Rija, Jaffith and T’ajar.

“Where is Sem?” he said, a sudden dread gripping him.

T’ajar and Jaffith exchanged puzzled glances.

“I thought he went to find you,” Jaffith said quietly and his mother nodded. 

“He did,” Noesh said, “I was finishing up something and he left. I thought he was coming back here.”

“Perhaps he saw Sambeth and is with her,” Rija said innocently, “she was pretty upset when she left.”

The expression of dismay on Noesh’s face was mirrored on T’ajar’s. Rija puzzled over it for a minute, then her eyes fell on Jaffith’s face. He was looking at his parents, a knowing expression on his face.

“I’ll go and find him,” he said, getting up off his chair with the easy, muscular grace of a panther. He gave them a slanting smile as he passed.

The minutes lengthened uncomfortably until a full half an hour passed.

 “Maybe I should return to our chamber. Perhaps Sambeth is there,” Rija suggested tentatively. 

She was seated, listening but not participating in the sporadic, stiff conversations between the pent-up husband and his puzzled wife. Noesh drummed his fingers on the table and from time to time rose to pace the room.

His brows twitched together when she spoke.

“No. Please stay,” he said, “they will return any moment and I think you should be here.” 

She nodded without saying anything else.

Into the silence came the sound of many feet approaching. Noesh and T’ajar rose to their feet and Rija found herself doing likewise. To their surprise it was Jared, Noesh’s steward, and several of his men. Jared ordered the men to wait in the corridor and stepped inside. Noesh, T’ajar and Rija were held riveted by his ashen face.

“My Lord Noesh,” he began in an unsteady voice. He paused as first Jaffith and a heartbeat later, Ajalon pushed through the door back into the room. 

“What is it?” Noesh demanded looking at Jared keenly. 

The man simply held out a tiny scroll, no bigger than his finger, “This just arrived by pigeon. You must read it immediately.”

Noesh took it from his fingers. He exclaimed as he spent a minute reading first one side of the missive and then the other. His eyes rested momentarily on T’ajar’s face. He turned back to the others.

“It is from Amis,” he said, breathing through pinched white nostrils, “they’ve betrayed us after all.”  

“What? Who?” Ajalon cried. 

He leaped forward and snatched the note from Noesh’s slackened grip. Jaffith leaned over his shoulder reading.

 “I can’t believe our aunt could be so wicked,” Jaffith said. 

“What is going on?” T’ajar demanded. 

Her husband put his arm around her shoulders.

“This note is from Amis. It seems that Rian, Norea’s henchman, has been talking to some important people in Arca.” 

T’ajar quivered but he went on.

“Altor knows the location of Tetrahin. He is coming.” 

His eyes fell on Rija sitting frozen, dark hair spilling across the front of her chest and fear leaping from her white face. Pity stirred in his breast. 

“He’s coming to get Rija.” 

Rija remained still, staring blindly but T’ajar trembled all over. Only the strong arm of her husband kept her from falling.

“How did she know?” she burst out, “How did Sambeth know?” 

Her voice dropped dramatically.

“Noesh, she came to the table speaking of warning dreams and other dangers. She said we all must leave Tetrahin.” 

T’ajar’s eyes filled with tears, “We didn’t listen to her!  And Ajalon was so unkind.”

She rounded on Ajalon and Jaffith.

“Did you find her? Did you find Sem?” 

Jaffith shook his head.

“That’s why I took so long,” he said seriously, “I looked everywhere I could think of but found no sign of  him.”

Ajalon remained quiet. Every eye focused on him. He shifted uncomfortably unwilling to meet anyone’s gaze.

“Well?” Noesh said quietly.

“Sambeth is not here,” he said.

“What do you mean, Ajalon?” 

His mother stepped forward putting a hand on his arm.

He looked down at her and answered a little roughly.

“She went Outside, mother. She went into the forest. Bethe saw her leaving and then Sem went after her.”  

Noesh turned grey and T’ajar’s face was filled with fear.

“You mean you drove her out there,” it was Rija. She faced Ajalon, in a tumult of fury, “You hard-hearted monster!” 

She stopped abruptly and turned away, a sudden thought stopping the hot words bubbling in her throat.  She glanced at Sambeth’s chair seeing in her mind’s eye Sambeth casually placing  her forest pack under it. Rija’s throat hurt as she swallowed. Sambeth had planned to leave.

“I didn’t mean for her to go off out there alone,” Ajalon spoke, a touch of defiance colouring his voice.

“I guess that’s exactly what you did,” she began untruthfully but pulled herself up.

T’ajar gasped, “They’re out there in the forest with our enemy approaching Tetrahin!” 

She turned to Noesh and hid her face against his shoulder.

“How can we warn them?” her voice was muffled and full of tears.

Noesh stared into the distance. A second warning. First from the Other then by Sambeth’s dream. A remarkable and curious girl, he thought. He castigated himself for not spending time with her.  

He had allowed his prejudice and fear to cloud his reason and block out the whispers of the Other.  He had known Sambeth’s coming was significant and a sign but she was a fugitive, hunted from Arca and almost certainly one of those cursed earthborn hybrids. His face was tight. Earthborns…they were dangerous, unpredictable creatures at best. His eyes fell on the faces of his sons, manly and attractive. He hadn’t wanted an abomination anywhere near them.

He became aware of T’ajar tugging at his sleeve and returned his gaze to her desperate face.

“What shall we do, my love?” she asked. 

“There is no question about it,” he said crisply, “our window of opportunity is here. We must leave at once.”  

T’ajar gasped, “Do you mean we must leave Tetrahin? Can we not defend it? What about your building materials…the boat–“

“No my dear,” he replied gently, “you see, I too, had troubled dreams last night and an urgent warning from the Other. Proximus is coming.”

She looked at him forlornly but only for a moment. Her shoulders squared and she took a deep breath.

“Is it the Aresisia plan then?” 

He looked at her steadily.

“It is.”

Jared spoke from beside Noesh’s elbow.

“We can be ready to leave in one hour, my lord.” 

“Begin sealing the inner doors,” Noesh ordered and Jared strode away instructing men as he went.

Noesh spoke again, “Any sign of Sem?”

 The response was negative. Noesh clenched his jaw, a muscle twitched in his cheek.  There was no time to send out a party to look for him and the girl. He could only hope that they wouldn’t be surprised by Altor or Proximus and that Sem would remember the plan to flee to Aresisia.     

Jaffith and Ajalon approached their father. Noesh noted that Ajalon was having trouble meeting his gaze. Jaffith reached him first and they embraced.

 “Sem will be okay, Father,” he said as he stepped back. 

Ajalon also embraced him with a murmured, “Father.”

“Sons, we have no time to lose,” Noesh said. 

In the back of his mind he pondered how to relieve Ajalon. That boy had always required special handling. He would be loaded up to the eyeballs with guilt over his rough treatment of Sambeth, yet he would be as bristly as a porcupine at any suggestion he did wrong. He would be out of sorts until the matter was thoroughly thrashed out. 

This time Noesh would indulge him.

“What are you going to do about Sem?” he demanded, staring searchingly at Ajalon. 

Out of the corner of his eye he saw that Rija was watching them. Her normally calm face was angry and set giving her face a stern beauty. 

Jaffith shot a quick glance sideways at Ajalon, “We will go out and do a quick search for them.”

Jaffith always said the best things that he could about his two younger brothers, Noesh thought warmly. Unlike Ajalon. 

The lines in Noesh’s brow deepened. Seeing it, Ajalon took a deep breath.

“It is all my fault, Father,” he said, “Sambeth came to the breakfast table talking about warning dreams and that we all must leave Tetrahin at once. Well, it all sounded like such a lot of nonsense to me that I…well..I grilled her about it pretty fiercely. Sem was really mad at me for doing it. I guess he saw her going Out and went after her.” 

A stricken look came into Ajalon’s dark eyes and he continued, “They haven’t returned. What if…what will we do if they don’t come back soon and we have to leave without them?  It will be my fault.”

Ahhh, Ajalon, Noesh thought, just when he seemed beyond reprieve he would display an unexpected caring. His thought was interrupted by Rija.

“I will wait for them.” Her voice was quiet but it contained a touch of whiplash in it. They all jumped at its intensity. 

“We will wait as long as we can,” Noesh assured her, “but they may not be able to get past the invaders.”  

“Sambeth saved my life. She tried to warn you all, to save your lives. The least you can do is give her a chance,” Rija replied.

Noesh’s man came running into the room. 

“My lord, you must leave now!” he cried. 

He turned and ushered through two men half lifting, half dragging another man between them. Noesh recognised his fastest runner panting and heaving in between them. 

“What news?” 

They lifted the spent runner closer to Noesh. He tried to speak. 

“Give him some water,” Noesh ordered. 

Ajalon was there before he finished speaking, holding a glass to the man’s lips. The man drank deep and, struggling free from his helpers, drew his hair back from his face with a trembling hand. At last he spoke in a hoarse whisper.

“My lord, a war band approaches not more than two leagues hence. They seem to know exactly where we are. We must hurry.”

“Right, let’s go,” Noesh barked. 

He swept his wife out of the room and toward the secret exit. A hand caught heavily on his arm. Half turning he saw that it was Ajalon. 

“What is it?” he said impatiently.

“It’s Rija, Father. She refuses to leave.”

“Then compel her,” Noesh answered shortly. 

Ajalon nodded and swung around, not before Noesh observed the look in his eye. He will enjoy the compelling part, he thought ruefully. Ajalon was always the practical joker, the tease who enjoyed the uproar when he stirred things a little too far.

“What of the traitor – what of Amis?” T’ajar asked, raw pain tinging her voice, as they walked briskly. 

Noesh was quiet for a moment.

“He warned us, T’ajar. I sent some of my men after him as soon as Queen Norea sent him off to Arca. It was obvious that Norea had changed her heart toward us but I thought maybe, just maybe Amis might be caught up in something and not be able to extricate himself.”

“You think of everything,” she said admiration in her voice, “did he betray us too?” 

He gave her a rueful look and shook his head.

“I don’t know.”

“But Amis knows our emergency plan,” he added, “let’s hope he didn’t pass that on to Norea or Altor.”

T’ajar flinched but her face remained inscrutable. 

“Does he know how to get to Tabun’s Cave and to Aresisia?” 

“He does,” Noesh replied briefly, “and he has Reuben, our best forester, with him.” 

Noesh didn’t say anymore than that. If Reuben had survived the disastrous trip to Arca, then Amis would be alright. Reuben was one of Noesh’s most capable, trusted men and between he and Amis, there wasn’t much to know about getting out of tight corners and surviving in the forest.

As the people of Tetrahin fled down the long, dark tunnel, Noesh’s thoughts turned again to Sem. He was somewhere out there, in danger from an Earthborn psychopath and from its unearthly father – far from any help from the family. He felt something nudge him in the back of his leg. 

Looking down, he met a pair of big, brown eyes gazing at him speakingly. It was Agnor, the brindle hound of  Sem’s. He was looking at Noesh as if he were trying to tell him something. 

“Come on, boy,” he said. 

He slapped the side of his thigh, encouraging Agnor to move along with them. He followed and a few steps later he thrust his nose into the back of Noesh’s knee again. 

It was quite a clunk from that long, broad snout and it brought Noesh to a sudden stop. 

“Ouch, Agnor! he exclaimed, “What is it?” 

Again the hound fixed a penetrating stare upon him, gazing deeply into his eyes. A quick picture of a fluttering pigeon crossed Noesh’s mind and one of himself extracting a note from its strapped on vial. An idea began to form in his brain. He let out a brief, “hah!” and gave Agnor’s head a pleased pat.

“Good idea, boy.”

Minutes later he spotted Jaffith and called him to his side. 

“Run ahead with Agnor to the nearest exit. Set him loose and give him the command, ‘Seek! Find Sem.'”

He showed Jaffith the vial strapped on Agnor’s broad leather collar. The vial sat snugly at his throat concealed amongst the thick fur.  Understanding dawned in Jaffith’s eyes but Noesh drew a finger across his lips.

“Shhh. I don’t want to give your mother any false hope.” 

Jaffith nodded and disappeared ahead, Agnor running at his heels.

Noesh watched them go.

“Ehyeh be with you, Agnor,” he muttered in his beard. 

He hoped he would see him again with Sem, at Tabun’s Cave or ahead in Aresisia.

To Chapter Twenty-One
To Chapter Twenty-Three

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RISE of the EARTHBORN (Chapter Twenty-One)

Shaken But Alive

I have escaped by the skin of my teeth.

Job 19:20

For a long time Sambeth was too shocked to speak. 

“You escaped the Fallen One again,” Sem wrapped his arms tightly around her, “are you okay?”

“I think so.” 

She relived the moment when Proximus’s gaze drilled into her own, seeking and plumbing the depths of her soul. Was it her imagination, or did the cold angelic eyes search her face? Did he seek to find some resemblance to his own?

Her fingers were nerveless and her grip on Pip’s fur had loosened when the Fallen One tore her away. Guilt ripped through her. She hadn’t resisted him and Sem had made a foolish and dangerous leap to save her.

“I’m so sorry, Sem. I’m so, so sorry. I should have–“

“Stop,” he touched her lips briefly and his hand, warm with heat of human blood, blocked out the chill of the wind, “you couldn’t have done anything different, Sambeth.”

She nodded wordlessly and after a moment he loosened his grip but kept his arms firmly around her.

Pip was flying fast, the location of the fortress would be reached in moments. Her eyes searched the terrain.

“We get back into Tetrahin,” she called over her shoulder, “I’ve got to tell Rija. We must warn all of them.”

Sem was quiet, his brow knotted in a fierce frown. She was right but the enemy were too close. Sem placed a hand on her shoulder. It was heavy. Sambeth turned looking at him wide-eyed.

“We can’t,” he said simply. He saw the irises widen in the depth of those eyes as she searched his face.

“There’s no way we can get to Tetrahin safely now, Sambeth.” 

He was deep in thought, his face stricken and Sambeth panicked. 

“What do you mean?” she demanded, her voice high with alarm, “We’ve got to get to them before Altor gets there.”

“We can’t–” he began but she flung up a hand, silencing him with a gesture.

“We have to,” she insisted, a sob in her voice, “we can go by the secret entrance where you first brought Rija and me.” 

She had twisted right around, loosening her grip on Pip and clutching Sem’s sleeve. As Pip undulated and slipped through the air, only Sem’s grasp held her fast. He felt her panic and rising hysteria. 

“Sambeth, we can’t get in that way. The conflict is happening right at that very spot. The other entrances are too far away.” 

The light faded from her eyes. There was a look of disappointment in her gaze that bit deep. 

“I promised Rija we’d stick together. I can’t let Altor find her or the others. He will kill them all.” 

He looked her square in the eye.

“Don’t think I’ve abandoned them. I would never do that,” he said flatly, “you don’t know everything, Sambeth. We have contingency plans for a time such as this and I know them well.”

The sting in his voice caused colour to surge into her face. 

He ignored it and continued relentlessly.

“My father has Jaffith and Ajalon there. Those two will do everything in their power to help him get everyone out. They are most likely escaping down our most secret tunnel out of there.”

Sambeth shrank at the hard cutting edge in his voice and the angry glitter in his eyes.  She turned to face back the other way, her heart hammering. 

“But how will they know he’s coming?” 

Sem sighed heavily, “I’m sure that after your warning they would be on alert. ”  

Sambeth’s insides felt shrunken and heavy. Bereft. Gone was the amity they’d enjoyed before. She tightened her lips. That’s what you get for insulting someone’s loyalty to their family and their courage.  

She leaned forward.

“Keep flying, Pip!”

She felt the answering ripple that ran through his body. ‘Oh Rija,’ she thought desperately, I hope Altor doesn’t get you.’

Again Sem’s hand lifted to her shoulder. Half nervously she turned to meet his eyes. They were a shade rueful as he looked down at her.

“She will be alright, Sambeth,” his tone was serious, “we had an emergency plan in place if something like this should happen and you did warn them.  I didn’t tell you before but I spoke to my father before following you out of Tetrahin. He was much struck by your dreams.  I’m sure he acted upon them.”

“What do we do now?” 

“We have to go north to Aresisia. We have contacts in there. We must make every effort to meet my father and the people, either there or along the way.”

To Chapter Twenty
To Chapter Twenty-Two

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