Damascus did not seem pleased by Jonas’s father’s suggestion, but relented nonetheless. “Is it true that your daughter-in-law, Annalise, wife of Adam, can communicate with Cain through dreams?”
A wash of quiet whispers flowed from the males sitting at the pews. It was common knowledge only true mates shared dreams. “That is correct.”
“Yet she also dreams with her husband, Adam.”
“True.”
“Is Annalise aware of Cain’s whereabouts?”
“I am unsure,” Jonas provided.
Damascus looked to Adam. “Would you be able to speak on your wife’s behalf?”
Adam stood. “I will speak on my mate’s behalf.” He enunciated the title so there would not be any confusion as to Annalise’s position in his life. “When Anna dreams of Cain, it is often set in a location they both know. It must be a familiar place they can each imagine. She tells me she mostly sees him in her dreams right here on the farm, more specifically on the western side of our family’s barn where the sun sets. While Cain may tell her where he has been, he is spending his time away exploring. He moves around often. He rarely returns to places he has visited. His sole purpose in maintaining a link with my mate is to keep informed with the family.”
“And you find this acceptable?”
“That is not your concern. While you may be my elder, she is my mate and I will not be questioned on our private affairs.”
The elder’s thin lips twitched at Adam’s arrogance, but Adam was correct. No male, elder or not, had any right to interfere with the personal business of a mated couple. It was too challenging to find an agreeable common ground to base the philosophy of marriage on when dealing with immortals that dated back to the medieval days and those born this century. Family law stated that a husband and wife chose to govern their home and honor their marital duties privately, following personal beliefs established by the male head of family. Marriage was to be navigated privately. So long as they were not breaking any higher laws, it was forbidden for others to interfere or question a husband’s rule over his mate.
Ezekiel cleared his throat. “While I can understand your desire to locate my granddaughter, I cannot see the purpose in questioning my family to this degree. I feel that this line of questioning has run its course and move to close the issue for today.”
As the other members of the council seconded his father’s movement, Damascus hesitantly agreed. There was no mistaking the displeasure on the elder’s face.
Abraham stood. “I excuse Jonas and call Silus Hostetler, son of Council Elder Damascus Hostetler, to the bench.”
Jonas’s son-in-law stood and walked to the council bench without once acknowledging Jonas or Adam.
“Brother Silus, you may speak your issue.”
“Thank you, Brother Abraham.” Silus turned so he could face both the elders at the council bench and the males of The Order filling the pews. “It has been nine weeks since my wife’s disappearance. Eight of those weeks wasted while Bishop King claims to be searching for her while attending to other private matters away from the farm. I have always been a male to honor the laws of The Order, but I grow weary waiting for news. My wife is weak. She is uneducated of the ways of the English. Her sheltered existence here on the farm has not prepared her for the evils that lurk outside of our sanctuary. While she is immortal, I fear she may be pulled into the claws of temptation and face demons she cannot outmaneuver the longer she is away from my protection. It is the devil’s playground out there and her morality is at stake. I beg you to overrule the bishop’s decision that I should remain on the farm and, please, allow me to search for my wife.”
Abraham shut his eyes and collected his thoughts. “While I understand your concern, Brother Silus, and I sympathize with your plight, I cannot overrule a direct order from the bishop—”
“But she is my wife!”
“Hold your tongue, boy! While I sympathize with you, I will not be addressed disrespectfully. You will remember yourself while in the presence of the council or you will find yourself on the other side of the door. As I was saying, a direct order from the bishop cannot simply be overruled because an order member is losing patience. It has been eight weeks. Bishop King is the eldest of all The Order. It is foolish of you to question his ability in finding your wife. His abilities are unmatched. If God has intended for her to be found, Eleazar will find her.”
Jonas could see by the tight bulk of Silus’s bunched shoulders that he wanted to argue. Thinking better of it, his son-in-law merely said, “I have suspicions that her brother, Cain, is assisting her in hiding.”
Jonas shook his head. This was turning into a sideshow. While Larissa was a bit sheltered, she was not so naive that time among the English would destroy her morality. She was a smart woman and Jonas had complete faith in all of his children to survive any challenge without sacrificing their principles. He had four good children. Whether the rest of the world saw them as such was not his concern. He knew them and trusted God to protect them in all matters.
“What exactly would your wife be hiding from, Brother Silus?” Abraham asked.
Adam looked to Jonas. They each knew that there was a substantial difference between the way he treated Abilene and the way Adam treated Anna from the way Silus treated Larissa. However, the same family law that protected them from others interfering in their marriage protected Silus. When Silus had asked for Larissa’s hand, he did not come to Jonas, an error Jonas had struggled with forgiving. Rather, the boy had gone directly to the council to ask permission to marry his daughter. With his father, grandfather, and great-grandfather all sitting members of the Elder’s Council, he was able to get his wish. Holding a link to the Hostetler, Zehr, and Rocke family lines, Silus was a young male with unquestionable influence over matters of The Order. Aside from Abilene and his father’s objections to the union, the remaining four elders were in favor, no doubt feeling pressure from the direction of three of the founding families. Jonas had been outnumbered and forced to give his eldest daughter to a man he did not trust.
“I…” Silus began. “I do not know. Larissa would sometimes suffer bouts of delirium and confusion.”
“That is a lie!” Adam suddenly stood up and shouted. “Larissa is one of the sanest and most levelheaded females I have ever come across. She does not give in to rash decisions nor does she shy away from responsibility. She is strong, capable, and kind. I will not stand idly by while you make a mockery of her in her absence. You may be my brother by law, but she is my sister by blood and I advise you to think long and hard before you utter one more lie about her.”
“That’s enough, Adam,” Ezekiel admonished his grandson. “Silus, you have said enough. While I want to see my granddaughter returned home as swiftly as possible, I will not tolerate such lies about her character. Yes, you are her husband and have every right to be concerned. But until we have all the facts, we cannot make any assumptions. For as much as we know about the Almighty’s intentions, she may have been called to leave the farm.”
“Inconceivable!” Silus shouted.
“Is it?” Ezekiel snapped back, silencing the younger male. “You are not her mate! You are not yet even the father of her children. Do not disregard the power of God, thinking you are wiser than He. You may have laid claim to my granddaughter and been granted her virtue, but you are no more entitled to her than any other male who is not her true called mate. Before you go on slandering your wife’s name before the council and all other males of The Order, I beseech you to reconsider. A smidge of temperance now may save you a pound of humiliation in the end. You are prepared to blame everyone but yourself in my granddaughter’s disappearance. I look at you and see a male with a fist full of stones, prowling within a glass house.
“We all want to see Larissa returned safely, but do not alienate those who are on your side. Every one of the Hartzlers, myself included, are concerned for Larissa. I would not call our loyalty to our kin into question if I were you. That ro
ad only leads to a lonelier place than you are now. Disregard my advice, boy, and see how fast your own actions are called into the light.”
Jonas tried to hide the smirk creeping over his lips. His mouth twitched with satisfaction at seeing Silus taken down a peg by his father. While many of the elders were Silus’s relatives and likely displeased with Ezekiel’s words, they were wise enough to keep their opinions to themselves. Challenging another elder in front of every male of The Order would display division among the council and they were required to maintain a united front. Disagreements and debates were meant to be had behind closed doors.
“I believe we have heard enough on the topic of Larissa Hartzler today,” Abraham announced. “Brother Silus, you may return to your seat. Let the record show that no new evidence in the girl’s whereabouts has been brought to light and the order given by Bishop King still remains in effect. Let us move on to the next matter.”
As Silus returned to his seat, he did look their way. Jonas was not intimidated. His son was as loyal to those he loved, as Jonas was himself. No one would speak ill of Larissa and get away unscathed. Not even her husband.
Chapter 3
The stale stench of human waste mingled with ethnic seasonings being heated over electric stoves. It was the time of evening when most mortals had supper and settled into their homes for the night. Eleazar would not be settling into his home however, because he was still tracking the Hartzler female.
He was utterly disgusted. In all of his five hundred and twenty-six years, he had never seen such a display of waste, rudeness, and utter disregard for morality. The human race was a withering species. Repulsed by the ideals held by what was assumed to be one of the most intelligent species of the animal kingdom, Eleazar was loath to spend another moment in this godforsaken place. The women ran around with little to no clothing covering their flesh. The men swilled their minds with alcohol and drugs. Babes were transferred from mothers’ breasts to strangers’ arms so that the females could run amuck in the overzealously industrialized rat race. Identities were not defined by character attributes, but rather by possessions and money. Elders were ignored and disrespected. Children were arrogant and vulgar. And the noise! When would it all quiet down? There was never a moment of silence among the English.
It had been eight weeks and Eleazar was prepared to return home empty-handed. He should have never volunteered for such a task. Larissa Hartzler was a sour brat from what he knew of her. Why he ever forbade Silus to track his own wife was beyond him.
Eleazar reached for his overcooked meat sandwich and thought better of it. Pushing the paper-wrapped meal, away he stood to leave the establishment he had come to find something resembling nourishment in. A female smiled at him. Her thoughts were unclean. What had happened to the world since he last entered it? The female stood.
“Hey.”
Without altering his expression he picked through the mortal’s mind. Twenty years old. Disgraceful.
“You want to go grab a drink and talk?”
While her mouth suggested they talk, her mind held a lewd image of the two of them so inappropriate for a girl of her age. Eleazar was insulted to even be included in her thoughts.
“No,” he said with little inflection in his voice. “I want you to go home and dispose of all your clothing that does not cover your skin in a way your great-great-grandmother would find proper. Then I want you to wash that makeup off of your face and pray for God’s mercy after you have so blatantly entertained such impure thoughts about a stranger.”
The child blinked at him, a little confused, but under his compulsion nonetheless. She quickly abandoned her meal and left to do as he suggested. As if he had time to save all the souls of this English nightmare, Eleazar mentally scoffed. He had one soul he needed to save and that was Larissa Hartzler’s. If he didn’t find her soon, he wasn’t sure if he would ever forgive her for sending him on such a chase.
Had it really been over two hundred and seventy years since he had ventured this far from the farm? The river upon which their ship had docked in Philadelphia was unrecognizable. The picture in his mind was nothing like what presently occupied the area he and the sixteen other immortals, debarking from The Charming Nancy, had walked through. Their pilgrimage from Philadelphia to the untried, open land of Lancaster County had been one of quiet reflection invoked by the serene beauty of America. By the way things appeared now, he wondered if he and his people would have been better off staying in Europe. The world outside of their Amish order was pulsating with evil.
Dirt roads were now paved and pocked with sinkholes and grates that reeked of sewage. Buildings covered what was once open space, crammed so tightly together they reminded him of an overcrowded mouth filled with jagged teeth. Where the Delaware River was once an exciting port of call, it now hibernated, litter tickling its surface like a fly tickles the rotting flesh of a corpse. How had a town, built by such visionaries, fallen into such disrepair? It amazed him when he recognized buildings dating back more than two centuries. The restoration of historic properties did not seem congruent with the disregard the English held for other assets. He would pass a beautiful building one moment and in the next come across mortals cooking drugs on a street corner vandalized with paint and covered in garbage. Did no one care about preserving this place?
It reminded him of Europe during the age of the plague. Although the streets were not filled with rotting bodies, they were crawling with mortals whose ethics had died long ago. Every mind he touched seemed to be scheming, one way or another. Rarely did he pick up a thought about God and when he did, it was usually followed by a silent request for some frivolous favor, like winning the Pick 6, whatever that was. He thought about the called mates he had seen brought to their farm over the past century. How was it that those mates, who were for the most part of good moral fiber, had come from such a grim place? It was a wonder mortals were not breaking into the Amish communities in droves, trying to escape this evil.
Perhaps he was simply getting old and had long ago become set in his ways. What was it Adam Hartzler’s mate had called him? Crotchety? He did not think of himself as overly cantankerous. Sure, he had a way of doing things he saw no need in adjusting, but it wasn’t as if he had grown into an unbendable grump. He could be a bit pious, but he was the bishop. It was his duty to maintain a level of religious honor amongst The Order.
Who was he kidding? He was turning into an old man. Every dawn he faced with more and more cynical views. Five hundred years was a long time. Perhaps he should step down as bishop and allow one of the others to fill his seat on the council’s bench. He could perhaps return to his birthplace in Spain, or Switzerland, what he truly considered his homeland. Would the Spain of today be anything like it was in the late fourteen hundreds? Most likely not.
He had traveled all over the face of Europe and no place felt more like home to him than Lancaster. He did not want to leave, but perhaps it was his time to go. When he had approached the others in seventeen thirty-seven about traveling to the New World in search of a new beginning, he had followed a dream. It made him proud to see what his devotion to a peaceful existence had wrought. At first he had not been so sure his plan was what God had intended.
They had lost several of their group on the voyage. While the plague offered a safe cover for rogue vampires running wild throughout Europe, their kind was not immune. Slow-occurring illnesses of the blood would not affect their kind, but illnesses that took hold of a body rapidly proved different. If a sickness progressed before an immortal could regenerate cells and expel the virus, a sort of mutation took hold of the nervous system and could quickly drain the life from even the strongest immortal. On a ship of twenty families, with almost half of the passengers being vampyre, there were only eleven mortal families to feed from. The mortals faded fast once smallpox broke out among the ship. Even the rats, scuttling below deck, seemed diseased. It wasn’t long before every child had a trace of measles on their green face. Eleazar did n
ot favor the memories of so many families forced to bury their young without dignity at sea. It was a sad and heart-wrenching beginning to a life he had promised so many would be better.
In such close quarters disease spread like wildfire. He had warned against feeding from families with even just one member that had taken ill. However, not all disease is visible in the early stages. While a boy would appear healthy one morning, the next day his illness would show and by that evening he would be nothing more than a swollen and lifeless body. Mothers would weep over their children, thus infecting themselves and their families further. The children died first and, once one child passed, no vampyre would take blood from the deceased’s kin. A childless mother survived on borrowed time.
As they drew closer to America, the passenger list dwindled. The saddest days were the days that the children died. It was not so sad to see a parent follow their child into the dark, cloaking waters of the sea. Eleazar, although never having been a father, learned during those days that to see one’s child breathe his or her last breath was to lose one’s life in some irretrievable way. It was as if the loss of a child also marked the loss of a spirit in the guardian.
The children were not the only tragedy however. He had watched three of his friends bury their called mates at sea. Much like losing a child, the loss of a true called mate is an ache that can never be healed. A mate is to be the other half of one’s soul, one female designed by God only for one male. Losing a true mate is to be ripped in half and never put back together again. The agony of those withering immortal widows and widowers was something Eleazar prayed he never had to witness again. Living with the loss of a child over the span of a mortal’s life would be torture. Living an eternity with half of your soul taken from you is another agony entirely.
It made Eleazar grateful he had never been called. Although those immortals tried to outmaneuver the illness running rampant on the decks of The Charming Nancy, there was nothing to be done once one drank from the vein of a dying mortal. The risk of death became so frightening they were all half-starved to death by the time the ship docked on the banks of Philadelphia. Untrusting of other immigrants’ health, they found it safest to drink from only the wild animals of the land. Throughout their pilgrimage north, they slowly rejuvenated their bodies, but their hearts and minds would never be the same.
Calling for a Miracle [The Order of Vampyres 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 4
