Mara thought she saw, by the glow of the burning embers, the welling of tears in his eyes, but she still appreciated how that smile, slight though it was, replaced the scowl that had been on his face for most of the time since they’d met. “Just don’t leave out anything important.”
Their eyes met. They both grinned.
“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
Dixon’s entire persona changed when he smiled. Instead of surly, he appeared friendly; instead of condescending, he appeared companionable. It made him very, very attractive. Surprised by that discovery, Mara sought to dismiss the thought as quickly as it had arisen.
“Well,” he said, “when . . .” He glanced up. “The beginning? Really?”
“The beginning.”
“Well then, I guess the story really starts when I left my family in the hinterlands to go to train as an Oathtaker. My father had been one and then, after the death of his charge, served as an advisor to the Council in the City of Light. He was always busy and often away from home. In many ways my mother acted as a single parent raising my two brothers and me.
“We lived in a small town with good friends nearby. My best friend, Edmond, was also the son of an Oathtaker. His father, Madden Chantray, had been in the service, but . . . Well, he’d become a traitor to the cause.”
Dixon crossed his legs and leaned in to stir the remaining coals, as though in doing so his thoughts and remembrances might also be stirred and thereby rise to the surface.
“Madden’s betrayal devastated my father. He’d known him well, had worked with him for years. My father was especially pained when the Council assigned to him, the prosecution of the case. In the end, Madden was put to death for his crimes. Because my father felt responsible somehow, he frequently invited Edmond to stay with us, sometimes for weeks at a time. I didn’t hear the whole story until my father was on his deathbed. I think he wanted to save Edmond from the scandal.”
A quiet minute passed. The occasional bullfrog croaked, marking the passing time.
“The hinterlands you say?” Mara finally asked, bringing Dixon back to the moment.
“Mmhmmm.”
“So your family . . . Are you one of the Brecken Townsends?”
“That’s right.”
“Nice to have friends in high places.” Dixon’s story was bringing back some of the details she’d tried to recall earlier. It must have been the Madden Chantray scandal that had triggered her memories.
Dixon smirked.
“Where are your brothers now?”
“They live in the hinterlands. They care for my mother.”
“And Edmond?”
“He wanted to join the Oathtakers, but couldn’t pass the final exams. I know the Guild didn’t hold his father’s treason against him. They just don’t work that way. With the Oathtakers, every man or woman stands alone. It’s unfortunate he couldn’t be one, though. I think he would have made a good one.”
“Where is he now?”
“He’s an advisor to the Council and a regular at the palace of the Select at Shimeron.”
“Sounds like he landed on his feet pretty well.”
Dixon nodded.
“Do you stay in touch?”
“With Edmond? Oh, yes, he’s like a brother to me. In some ways he’s closer than my own brothers. We see each other fairly regularly. In fact, he may be just the person to help us to find a safe place for the twins.”
Mara held the infants closely as they slept contentedly. “Then you agree with what Rowena said—that we need to disappear somewhere with the girls.”
“Most definitely. Someone tracked her for a reason. I hope to find out who and why. And when I do . . .” He fell silent. Moments later, he changed positions again.
When the attention was on him, he tended to behave like a child who couldn’t focus.
As he stirred the coals again, sparks flew up.
“Go on,” Mara pressed, sensing he was lost in thought.
“Oh yes, as I was saying, I trained to be an Oathtaker. I got my first assignment—a fourth—about a year after my final exams. But she died in a tragic accident only a year later.”
“A fourth born of a Select—one instrumental in laying new foundations for the cause,” Mara said. “Let’s see. They open new areas and organize events to educate the people about Ehyeh so as to recruit new believers.”
“That’s right.”
“And they establish sanctuaries where others can study the Good One and His ways.”
“Right again. Of course, like all Select, few fourths remain today.” He stopped to take a bite of cheese that remained from their dinner.
“Did this fourth have a name?”
“Judith.” He went silent for a moment. “Judith Jenkins.” He bit his lower lip. “But like I said, she died in a tragic accident. While riding out one day to a new sanctuary she’d established, her horse bolted. She was thrown to her death.” He paused in thought. “Actually, Edmond was along on that trip. We could never determine what caused her horse to bolt. It was tough going after that for a time, but I was cleared of any wrongdoing.
“Not long after that, I was out one day when I felt the calling. I was traveling back to the hinterlands to visit my mother when I came upon Rowena. She was making a quick getaway from a group of assassins sent out for any Select they could find. Her Oathtaker died in the battle. His sacrifice ensured her safety, but only for a short time. When I arrived, I immediately accepted her as my charge.” Dixon stretched his shoulders. “And the rest, as they say, is history,” he said with a smile.
“Oh no,” Mara laughed, “you won’t get off that easily!” His smile mesmerized her. “Tell me about Rowena.”
He looked away. “Well, as you probably figured out, she is—was,” he corrected himself, then swallowed hard, “the ranking member of the first family of the Select.”
“I had picked up on that, yes.”
“Her mother, Mae, was a third. Mae wanted to see the old days return. She had six children—six daughters. Then a number of years passed. Finally she became pregnant with Rowena.
“Rowena took her role, her position, both as the ranking member of the first family and the only living seventh, very seriously. She planned for her own seven daughters. Well, I guess that’s seven plus one daughters. Her husband, Grant, was not of the Select. But of course—”
“Being a member of the Select follows the mother’s line. So the twins are Select.”
“Yes, that’s right.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Anyway he, Grant that is, died just after Rowena got pregnant with the girls.”
“What of?”
“We were never sure.”
“No one could heal him?”
“No. Well maybe they could have, but no healer made it to him in time.”
“Poor Rowena. She must have been devastated.”
“Yes, she loved him very much.” He closed his eyes in his reverie.
Mara watched him closely. Had it been hard on him to know that Rowena loved another?
“Are her parents still living? Mae and—what was his name? And what of her sisters?”
“Her parents, Max and Mae, are both deceased. Three of Rowena’s sisters: Eve, a first; Dianna, a second; and Therese, a third; have fallen to assassins. But the others: Janine, a fourth; Sally, a fifth; and Lilith, a sixth, are still living. They’re at the palace in Shimeron.”
He was quiet for a minute. “Rowena studied history and prophecy. She believed, as many do, that a seventh daughter of a seventh daughter would one day be born, and that she would be the best hope for bringing back the ‘golden days’ of the Select and restoring Ehyeh’s ways. She believed evil forces were at work in the world. She thought the people had moved too far from the beliefs and standards of Oosa’s founders.”
“How did you end up here?”
Dixon sat with one elbow on his knee and with his chin resting in his palm. “Rowena heard rumors of plans, perhaps among those c
lose to her, to destroy her. So we left Shimeron shortly after Grant died. That was about six months ago. We have . . . that is, we had, been on the run ever since.”
They sat quietly as the fire crackled and crickets sang.
“So,” Mara finally prodded, “then what?”
“Like I said, we were on the run. Rowena had a destination in mind, but didn’t want to lead anyone to it. The day the twins were born, we knew our pursuers were close. A mountain lion attacked one of our horses just days prior. It slowed us down. She was very frightened.”
He stoked up the coals. “I think the fear may have caused her to go into labor early. That, and I suppose she was likely to anyway, given that there were two children and not just the one anticipated.” He looked at Mara. “Two children! It’s unheard of among the Select.”
She nodded and motioned with her hand for him to continue.
“In any case, I found her a safe place—or what I thought was a safe place—then turned back to where the assassins trailed us. I guess they’d called upon the powers of Sinespe for the grut, but I didn’t know that when I left her side.”
He told about how he’d shot at the men. “I was really too far away to get in a good shot and they took refuge behind rocks and boulders, but at a minimum, I hoped to confuse them as to our whereabouts.” He paused, his eyes closed. “I didn’t think I’d been gone long . . . Maybe a couple of hours or so? Then I returned.”
“And?” Mara asked gently after a minute or so.
“Suddenly, the earth shook. The sky changed color. I didn’t connect in that moment that its turning red meant that the ranking member of the Select had . . . I just thought that Rowena must’ve given birth and released her power. I found it puzzling because the ranking Select usually doesn’t do that until after his or her youngest has reached adulthood and found favor with Ehyeh. That way they know their children are ready to take on their responsibilities.
“But I figured that maybe she released her magic so she could put a cocoon of safety around herself and her infant for a time.” He looked up. “What I didn’t expect was that she would have had twins, or that I’d find you and that you would already have accepted them as your charge.” His eyes glistened with unshed tears. “In the end, I failed her,” he whispered.
“No, Dixon. Without your distracting those men, Rowena could not have born the girls. As it was, the grut nearly got to her. We all just did what we had to do.”
She snuggled Eden nearer. “I like to think that Ehyeh, the great giver of life, is in charge of us all, and that things turn out as He intends—that when we’re obedient to His ways in our efforts to further life and freedom, we’re following His plan for us.” For the first time in days, Mara’s tears ran freely.
“Just as you committed your life to Judith, and later to Rowena, Rowena committed her life to the Select and to the people of Oosa, and I’ve committed my life to these children. We’ve each done what we believed the Good One called us to do. Ehyeh couldn’t ask for more. Neither then, should you.”
He allowed for a moment of silence. “Now may I ask you a question?”
“I suppossssse,” she drawled.
“No fooling now. Was there really a full pack of grut?”
“Really.”
“Really and truly?”
“Truly, a full pack.”
He shook his head and laughed. “Honest to the Good One?”
“Honest to the Good One!”
Still shaking his head and grinning, he stood. He glanced into the darkness, then back her way. “Why don’t you get some rest now. I’ll keep watch.”
Dixon walked the perimeter of the campsite, then positioned himself outside the fading light of the coals. Bullfrogs belched in the pond and bats squeaked overhead, but for the most part, his vigil was a quiet one. He was glad for the calm that gave him some time for introspection.
He’d been so busy being angry, of feeling jealous of Mara and of her having been in attendance at Rowena’s last moments, that initially, he’d failed to take a good look at her. But her smile held a kindness, a sincerity he’d not encountered for some time.
He was weary of others using him, especially those who wanted something from Rowena. It had been so long since he’d been able to trust someone. He fervently hoped that he could trust Mara. Being an Oathtaker was a lonely business. So few understood its demands and limitations.
Goodness, but she was beautiful, as well. He found the light sprinkling of freckles across her nose amusing, attractive.
Perhaps best of all though, she was strong and spirited. Imagine a newly assigned Oathtaker telling him to take a hike. Then there was the way she handled Heri. That was genius, really. She was impressive, gutsy—and she’d been right. He had unfairly blamed her for his own failing. Ehyeh did use all things for good. The world did operate according to His design. Had Mara not been there, the twins might never have lived to see the light of day. He shuddered to think it.
He was certain she still believed that he’d loved Rowena. It was true, there had been a time, but of course it was impossible—for so many reasons. He was under oath and therefore, not free. She was married and therefore, not free. Though it had taken some time, eventually he’d come to appreciate that it wouldn’t have worked anyway. Rowena did not return his sentiments.
In the early days, it had been painful to love without love in return, but he never acted on his feelings, strove never to allow any vestige of them to be known to others.
Over time, his love changed. Rowena became like a sister to him and the very best of friends. He supported and helped her in every way possible. He was willing to go, and would have gone, to the grave to protect her, just as he’d sworn he would do.
Yes, he had loved Rowena, but not as Mara thought. So why hadn’t he corrected her misunderstanding?
Maybe because it keeps a distance between us.
One of the babies cried out. Mara awakened and prepared a feeding. In that moment, he was immensely grateful she was allowing him to share in this experience.
An owl hooted in the distance. He turned toward the sound and caught, at the edge of his line of vision, the splendor of a shooting star. Luck is with me tonight.
He walked the perimeter of the camp again. He relived some of the better times with Rowena in his thoughts: her laughing and teasing him about his apprehension over having accepted a seventh as his charge, the births of her children, and of how she’d placed her newborns in the care of Oathtakers she trusted while she continued on her mission.
She had called her supporters her inner circle—and what a group they made.
She was a rare one. Dear Good One, great Ehyeh, I miss her so much already.
CHAPTER SIX
Reigna cried. Out of milk, Mara cuddled her closely and gave her a knuckle to suck on. For the moment the infant seemed satisfied, but Mara couldn’t help but notice that between the twins, Eden was easier to keep quiet. Already they displayed little glimpses into their base, and different, personalities.
The travelers had stopped to eat and to fill their canteens, but rest time was over.
“Just over that ridge there, is Polesk,” Dixon said as he placed his hand on her shoulder and pointed through the trees. “So, not much longer. I’ll lead the horses over the rocky ledge just ahead. They could use more of a break.”
“Thank you.” She strapped Reigna to her front side, then stretched her arms and shoulders. She grasped the handle of Eden’s basket, but before she could lift it, Dixon gently brushed her hand away.
“I’ve got her.”
“Let’s trudge on then,” she said.
The trail ahead, narrow and rocky, ran along the edge of a dry streambed. When they came upon thorny brambles and brush, Dixon placed Eden’s basket down and handed the horses’ reins to Mara.
Using a long scythe-like knife he’d picked up earlier, he cut a clearing. Occasionally, he waved his arm to break up the spiders’ webs running across his intended path. Wil
d blackberry bushes nestling in the dappled shady areas snagged at his pants as he passed by.
When through, he returned to Mara’s side, took her hand to lead her though the brambles, then went back for their horses.
Step. Step. Step. Will it never end? The added weight of carrying Reigna, or Eden, or both at times, took its toll. Mara’s feet and back ached and her muscles protested against the unaccustomed riding. She envied Dixon’s strength and stamina, but then offered a silent prayer of gratitude for his assistance.
When she tired, she asked him to take the lead. Occasionally he stopped and turned toward the flutter of wings, or the buzz of insects, his senses clearly on high alert, as he continually surveyed the landscape.
After a distance, with the horses somewhat rested, and the rocky patches behind them, the Oathtakers rode again, each with one of the twins.
Small farms dotted the landscape. Fields of oats and wheat, fully ripened and golden in the sunlight, waved in the light breeze as if greeting passersby. Dogs barked and donkeys brayed in the distance. The rhythmic clipping of Sherman and Cheryl’s hooves sounded out when they passed over rocky surfaces.
Just when Mara thought she could take no more, they reached the top of a ridge. “Welcome to Polesk,” Dixon said with a wave.
“Whew!” Mara looked out at the largest city she’d ever seen. People on horseback and traveling in carriages moved through, giving life to the surroundings like blood through arteries. Houses at the fringes sported small vegetable gardens where scratching chickens milled about. Farther in were larger buildings. Each seemed to rise higher than the one before, as though in a silent contest to determine which was the tallest. In the city’s center stood the largest and highest of them all.
“Sanctuary,” he said, following her gaze and answering her unasked question.
“It’s huge!” Even from this distance, she could make out its grounds, like a park in the midst of which sanctuary stood like a beacon to all who sought refuge from worldly cares. Made of white brick, it sported a towering spire that rose up, and up, and up into the air.
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