Oathtaker

by Patricia Reding

  Francis stepped inside. An array of sandals on the floor and shawls hanging from pegs, greeted him. Two young women sat before him, one discreetly nursing an infant, a lightweight blanket draped over her shoulder.

  A large tabby watched the party as it entered. It flicked the end of its tail. Mara stroked the feline behind its ears. It lifted its head, pushing back toward her as though to ask for more, then purred raucously.

  “Hey!” shouted Francis. “Hey, Ma?”

  A woman stepped into view. Her wavy graying hair was in a bit of a fuss. Her eyes, the color of a mid-summer sky, lit up. Her smile warmed her face, softening her otherwise sharp features. She grabbed a cloth from the waist of her white apron, which sported clear signs that dinner was in process. Flour dusted its surface along with various smudges and stains. Wiping her hands and walking with a slight limp, she made her way to his side.

  “Francis! Wherever have you been?” She placed her arm around him and nudged him. “Shame on you for staying away so long.”

  “Ah, Ma, stop. You saw me just last week.” He ruffled her hair just as he’d earlier done to Patrick’s. “I suppose, next thing, you’ll accuse me of keeping you from your grandson.”

  “Oh, have no fear. Nothing can keep me from my boy. Isn’t that right, Patrick?” She squatted down beside the child and embraced him. She flicked and fluffed at his hair.

  Mara grinned at the family resemblances in both looks and mannerisms.

  As though noticing for the first time that Francis and Patrick were not alone, the woman stood again and looked at her guests. Seeing the infant in Mara’s arms and hearing it whimpering, she reached out. “May I?”

  Mara handed over the fussing child. “Plenty to go around you might say,” she said as she reached inside the basket that Dixon held to uncover the as yet silent Eden.

  “Goodness!” The woman turned her attention to the babe in her arms. “My, my, what a beauty. Who have we here?”

  “This is my mother, Faith,” Francis said, then completed the introductions.

  “Mara’s sister died bearing that little beauty you’re holding and her sister.”

  As though on cue, Reigna cried loudly. Seconds later, Eden fidgeted, displaying signs of distress as well.

  “They wondered if we might know of someone willing to accompany them back to Mara’s home and . . . Well, they’re looking for someone for the long term, a wet nurse for the twins.”

  “What? Have the little ones no names?” Faith asked.

  “That’s Reigna you’re holding, and this is Eden,” Mara said. “Do you think you could help us?”

  Faith and Francis glanced at one another. He raised his brow in question.

  “By golly, I think you’re right,” she said as though she’d read his mind. She looked back to her visitors. “A young woman came to us just a couple days ago. She escaped Chiran, bearing her child on the way. Unfortunately, her daughter did not make it. Of course, Nina is devastated.”

  Francis patted his mother’s shoulder. “I mentioned her to them.”

  Just then, a slight young woman in a light blue cotton dress and wearing tattered sandals, walked into the room. Her skin was bronze, her hair so black and shiny that it had an almost purple cast. It lay long and straight down her back. Her eyes, dark as night, were red and puffy from crying.

  Faith waved the newcomer forward. “Come, Nina. Come here, child. I’d like you to meet some new friends of ours.” She introduced her visitors.

  Nina nodded with each introduction, but the sight of the twins distracted her. The longing and suffering in her eyes was palpable.

  Faith cocked her head and raised her brow, gazing at Mara. She was leaving it to her visitors to speak to the young woman.

  Mara reached her hands out. Palms up, her eyes meeting Nina’s, she invited the young woman to place her hands there. Understanding the invitation, Nina did. She looked down, back up at Mara briefly, then down again.

  “Nina, we’ve come for help. Francis and Faith, may Ehyeh bless them, suggested that you may be the answer to our prayer. You see the girls here? This is Reigna.” Mara stroked the infant’s cheek. “And this,” she continued, gesturing toward the basket, “is Eden. The girls’ mother died a couple days ago. I need a nurse for them. That is, I need someone who can help me to mother them. You know, to nurse them when they’re hungry, to comfort them when they’re sad, to . . . Well, I’m sure you understand. In any case, I was wondering, would you be willing?”

  The young woman burst into tears. She clasped Mara’s hands tightly, then showered them with kisses. “Oh, you answer my prayers,” she said between her kissing and crying. “Two babies. Two! Oh, which first?”

  She released Mara and reached for Reigna. Faith placed the swaddled, fussing infant into her arms. Nina then took up Eden’s basket.

  Spotting a chair that caught her fancy, she went to it, then sat down. She took a lightweight blanket from the back of the chair, placed it over her shoulder, and commenced nursing Reigna. In that moment, her entire persona changed. Like the tabby sitting next to the front door that had purred at Mara’s touch, her eyes closed as she rocked, humming ever so lightly, the faintest of smiles upon her face.

  Faith led her guests to the kitchen and offered them something to eat. After assuring them there was nothing they could do to assist, she set out bread fresh from the oven slathered with butter, and warm lamb stew. A jar of orange infused honey sat on the table, along with various cheeses and large red strawberries.

  Dixon leaned back in his chair, crossing his feet at his ankles, then moments later, sat forward drumming a beat with his hand to his thigh.

  “Ma, Dixon is a friend of Ted’s. Are you expecting him back soon?”

  “Should be here any minute. He was at sanctuary and intended to stop back for a late lunch.”

  The front door opened.

  “I’m back!”

  “Why, that’s him now.” Faith placed her honeyed bread down and stood. The table wobbled. The plates and cups jiggled.

  “No, let me,” Dixon said, his hand on her arm, urging her to stay put. He went to the doorway facing the front entrance.

  “Well, as I live and breathe!” Ted exclaimed from the next room. When he reached Dixon, he embraced him and clapped him on the back.

  “Ted, my dear friend, it’s so good to see you.”

  “Whatever are you doing here?” Ted’s eyes glistened.

  Dressed in his Oathtaker’s garb, which was unlike that generally worn by those in training, in that it sported a series of decorations depicting his training and rank, he stood with his arm around Dixon’s shoulders, smiling.

  “How is Rowena? Never mind that,” he continued as he glanced about, “where is Rowena? Why, I haven’t seen you two since . . . When? A couple years ago or so, right? Certainly not since I came back here to Polesk.”

  Dixon’s smile fell. His eyes welled with tears.

  Ted stopped cold. “What’s going on?”

  Mara thought how quickly she’d become devoted to the girls and found herself, perhaps for the first time, truly empathizing with Dixon over his loss. Tears suddenly and unexpectedly sprang to her eyes.

  “We need to talk, Ted.”

  Ted looked around the room. Francis’s eyes held a question. There was confusion on Faith’s face. His gaze shifted to Mara. He nodded at her. Turning back to his old friend, he said, “Let’s go, then. I know just the place.”

  Dixon glanced at Mara, who tipped her head in response. She was fine now that the girls were nursing well.

  “Take your time now. We’ll have a bite for you when you get back,” Faith called out.

  Ted moved a basket of clean laundry to the side, straightened out a rug at his feet, then opened the back screen door. It squealed in protest. He gestured for Dixon to take the lead.

  Mara stepped to the door as they walked away, grateful Dixon would be able to speak openly with someone he clearly trusted and held in high regard.

&
nbsp; Sitting on a park bench a short walk from the mission home, they’d not spoken since leaving the house. Dixon leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, hands at the sides of his face. He appreciated his friend’s presence. His own father had mentored Ted, and Ted in turn had ushered Dixon into manhood after his father died. He trusted the man implicitly.

  He knew he would have to speak first; Ted would give him whatever time he needed. Lost in thought, he suddenly became aware of the sounds around him: laughter floating through the air, the tintinnabulation of sanctuary bells, the clip-clopping of a horse and buggy, the peal of a child’s laughter.

  He hung his head. How could everyone go on as though nothing had changed, as though things had not gone awry? Didn’t they know the world had stopped when Rowena died? Or so it seemed at times.

  With some regret, he finally broke the silence. “Rowena . . . died.”

  Ted watched as Dixon brushed his foot across the sand at his feet.

  “About six months ago she discovered that she was pregnant with her seventh. Shortly afterward, Grant died. Then one day she insisted we leave the palace immediately and in the dark of night.” Dixon kept his eyes downcast. “Someone was after her—someone close.”

  He told Ted of their journey, how distressed Rowena had become, and of how she’d gone into labor with their pursuers so close.

  “So what happened?” Ted asked, reading Dixon’s behavior as an invitation to speak.

  “I found her a wayfarer’s hut, then went back to do what I could about those chasing us.”

  “Yes?”

  Dixon told how he’d shot at the men in pursuit. “I’d been gone, I don’t know . . . A couple hours? Just before I arrived back at the hut, the earth shook. Then, I found Rowena . . . dead.” He wiped at his eyes brusquely.

  “And the child?”

  Dixon smiled. His face lit up. “Child? Children! You didn’t get to meet them.”

  “Them?”

  “Twins. Reigna, the firstborn, and Eden. They’re with Mara back at the house.”

  “Is that the woman who was with you?”

  “Mmhmm. They are her charge. Or ‘charges’ if you like.”

  “Mara’s charge? She’s an Oathtaker?”

  “A new and very inexperienced one.” Dixon told about how Mara had been led to the hut when it was under attack by the grut.

  Ted whistled. “An entire pack?”

  “That’s what she says. Says she’s a perfect shot.” Dixon grinned. “I believe her, though. I couldn’t be there. Ehyeh knew that, so He sent the right person. They say He always does.” He went back to brushing sand with the toe of his boot.

  “When I burst into the hut it was . . . Well, we had a difficult start.” He chuckled softly. “But I think we’ve worked through it now. I promised her I’d do anything to assist her. The problem is—I don’t know who was after Rowena. Who wanted her dead? Who would send a pack of grut to do the deed?”

  He patted his thigh, as though keeping beat to some unheard music, then stopped abruptly. “But having already lost two charges of my own . . . Well, I worry I may bring her more harm than good.”

  “No, you’ll not do more harm than good. You believe in the Good One and in the great admonition. If you gave Mara your promise, the Good One will help you to fulfill it. She’ll need help—a great deal of it, I’m sure.”

  “You don’t know the half of it. The things she doesn’t know.” Dixon stared out.

  “Go on.”

  “Well as I said, we had a rough start.”

  “Yes?”

  Dixon told his friend about how Mara had told him to go his own way. “Said she wouldn’t put up with me.”

  Ted grinned. “Seems maybe she knows you pretty well.”

  On seeing the man’s smile, Dixon knew Ted was teasing. He laughed easily. “Yes, well, I told her I would do anything—anything to help her to keep the twins safe. I felt I owed at least that much to Rowena. So I swore an oath to protect them. And that’s when the most amazing thing happened!”

  “What’s that?”

  “The earth shook.”

  “You received a confirmation? But you said Mara was—”

  “Well—yes, of sorts. And that’s just it, you see,” Dixon interrupted. “The earth shook as though Ehyeh had acknowledged my words even though the twins already had their Oathtaker, but it was Mara who felt the emotions that accompany a confirmation.” Once again he beat a rhythm with his hand on his thigh. “What do you suppose that means?”

  “I can’t say, but I can look into it for you. Maybe sevenths are different. Seventh sevenths anyway. It’s been so long since there were any.”

  “Thank you, my friend.”

  “I’m here to help.” Ted’s countenance turned serious. “Listen, Dixon, I’m dreadfully sorry for your loss. I know you loved Rowena dearly. I’ll do whatever I can to help, but we need to get Mara in on this conversation. We need to consider where the girls might be safe. They are prime targets after all. Perhaps that’s why your sworn allegiance had such an effect.” He drew in a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. “Twins, you say.” He shook his head. “It’s never happened before.”

  “Yes, I’ve been thinking about that. With the number of Select so low, and with more marriages between them and those not born Select, maybe that had something to do with it.”

  “Maybe.” Ted paused. “It would help to know what Mara’s attendant magic is, and who she knows and where. Also, we need to sleuth out the facts about who ordered the hit on Rowena.”

  The two old friends sat quietly watching the park visitors.

  “I should tell you that we weren’t entirely honest when we arrived,” Dixon finally said. “We didn’t know exactly what we’d find, so we told the others that the girls are Mara’s nieces.”

  “I don’t see any harm in that. I’ll set the record straight with them all. I’m sure they’ll understand.”

  “Well, we were also in desperate need of someone to nurse the twins. I hope this is all right with you . . . A young woman living at the house who lost her child—”

  “Nina?”

  “Right, Nina. We asked her if she’d be willing to go with us to help with the girls. I’m sorry to say we hadn’t had the opportunity to share all of the facts with her in advance.”

  “Sometimes an Oathtaker has to do—”

  “What he has to do,” Dixon completed Ted’s sentence. The two smiled sadly, knowingly, at one another.

  “I don’t think anything would have stopped Nina from helping with those girls. Ehyeh directed you here. He directed her here as well. It was a good thing to do—to ask her to help you.”

  “Yes, but was it the right thing?” Ted had often reminded Dixon that doing a good thing, was not the same as doing the right thing.

  Ted smiled. “I believe so.” He brushed his hand against a rosemary shrub at the side of the bench. Its piney scent filled the air. “Listen, I say we head back to the house and then the three of us will have a good long talk.”

  Dixon stood. He was relieved to have been able to share some of the burden he’d been carrying. Combing his fingers through his hair, he responded. “Let’s do it.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The young women at the Oathtakers’ mission home retired for the night with their little ones. The children cried softly and whimpered as their mothers nursed and tucked them in. A gentle voice sang the melody of a traditional lullaby, while others whispered softly. Eventually, the household stilled.

  Mara, Dixon, and Ted, gathered in the parlor. Faith set out tea and sugar, biscuits and cream, then closed the pocket doors to grant privacy to the little gathering.

  The smell of blueberry, like a whisper through the air, rose up from the still warm biscuits to join the apple scent of the chamomile tea. Together they created a fruity perfume, both invigorating and calming at the same time.

  Dixon poured cream into his tea. He untied his boots and loosened the laces. “Now that things are quie
t, we can begin. I guess the question is: where?”

  Mara caught his eye and smirked. “As you know, I like to start at the beginning.” They shared a smile, recollecting how she’d asked him to tell his story.

  “Mara,” Ted said, “Dixon filled me in on what happened with Rowena and how the two of you made it here with the girls. He told me something of the danger Rowena had been in. I think we should try to come up with a plan for the girls’ safety. I’ll do whatever I can to assist.”

  “I’m sure Dixon told you that I’m very new to this. I was in training until recently, but with so few Select remaining, and so few instructors having actually worked with them . . . Well, I’m afraid my training was very sketchy indeed.”

  She wore a loose house frock and slippers borrowed from Faith that she kicked off her feet. Then she curled her legs to the side and put her hands in her pockets. “I appreciate your help.”

  “I like your idea. I too like to ‘begin at the beginning.’ So, could you fill us in on what are your skills? Also, what attendant magic have you identified? I expect it’s still coming into play, but some may already made itself known.”

  She refreshed her tea, then sipped at it. “Well, my skills include instruction in the history of Oosa, the Select, and the Oathtakers. Of course I’m also trained in general defense, and I have some skill at healing.”

  “Mara,” Dixon interrupted, “it might help to know that we’re all of the same understanding. What do you mean when you say that you’re skilled at healing?”

  “I mean things I’ve been taught, such as how to set a broken bone, or to mend a cut, how to guard against infection, how to assist in childbirth . . . That sort of thing.”

  The three sat quietly for a minute.

  Finally, Mara sighed. “Honestly, I’m feeling a bit over my head. I can’t understand why I was called to aid Rowena, but I can tell you that I responded to something beyond my ability to define or to, I don’t know—refuse?”