Oathtaker

by Patricia Reding

  Mara wanted to know what could be done with a Select who’d turned her allegiance to the dark side. She felt in her heart that none of them owed Lilith any protection any longer, but the cost of an Oathtaker being wrong in such an assessment—of wrongfully taking the life of one of the Select, should it come to that—was death.

  She was also curious about the artifacts, the crown, the sword, and the scepter. What was she to do with them until the girls came of age? Did they belong to both of the girls, or to only one? And if to only one, which? Should she take possession of them for safekeeping?

  Gradually, the countryside changed. Where things had been quiet in the city’s outskirts, the noises grew in volume. Along with them came the varied smells of a lively city and the shuffle of people and goods.

  As the sky showed signs that dusk would soon approach, the travelers made their way to the innermost part of the city.

  In their efforts to ensure that they could respond to danger quickly, Mara and Dixon rode on either side of Nina and Adele, each of whom carried one of the infants. Because Dixon wanted to keep his presence concealed, he kept the hood of his cloak up to hide his face.

  Crowds sashayed this way and that, as daytime workers made their way home and nighttime laborers made their way to work. The city bustled with sounds: callers cried out the news, horses whinnied their dissent to orders from on high, chains rattled as they held dogs at bay, grinding carriages clickety-clacked through the dusty roads, hawkers plied their wares, and children cried for treats—or perhaps because they’d consumed too many.

  The buildings on either side grew up, up, up. Mara’s mouth dropped open. “I’ve never seen anything like this!” she cried. “And I thought Polesk was large.”

  Riding on, she shielded the light of the setting sun from her eyes with a hand to her forehead. The last rays of sunshine shone from an angle that caused sanctuary, suddenly coming into view, to glisten. Slowly, she drew her hand down.

  “It’s amazing!” she gasped.

  Sanctuary’s steeple, crowned with a globe, stood in stark contrast to its surroundings. While it signified longevity, continuation, consistency and perseverance, its immediate environs were a study in hustle, change, perhaps even mutiny, to things of old, whether they be systems, places, people, or things.

  “Yes, I can feel it. There are answers here. Answers I want,” she said.

  Dixon nodded. “To the inn then?”

  “To the inn,” she responded resolutely.

  Since the streets had narrowed, the travelers now rode two by two, with Mara and Nina in the lead. They made their way through the throng of people and traffic to a side street Dixon pointed out, then turned in.

  News criers bracketed both ends of the street. They shouted out the headlines and accosted passersby to purchase their fliers. Dixon bought one, then pressed onward, keeping a tight grip on Adele’s reins so that nothing could come between them.

  When Mara turned back for further directions, Dixon pointed out a small weathered building at the end of the block. Unlike others nearby, it stood a mere two stories high, unattached to the buildings immediately to its sides. Aged, but well maintained, it sat back from the roadway. A stable stood behind it. Horses and carriages madly made their way in and out from the premises.

  A young groomsman, just a boy really, small and string bean thin, ran out to assist the inn’s newest arrivals. A middle-aged man followed him, shouting out orders more quickly than the boy could follow them. The man pointed and bullied, prodded and cajoled the youth to anticipate and to meet the every need of the inn’s guests.

  Dixon spoke briefly to the man in charge, explaining how he wanted their horses to be cared for and offering a tip to the stable boy for a job well done. Then, turning on his heel, he grasped Mara’s elbow. “How many rooms?”

  “I hadn’t considered that.” She thought for a moment. “Let’s just make it two. One for you, Samuel and Jules. We women will make due with one . . . somehow. With any luck, perhaps we’ll get a common joining space.”

  They entered the inn. It was a simple place, enlivened by a small pub at the front. Two young barmaids wound their way through the tables where customers sat talking and laughing with them like old friends.

  One of the barmaids was plump and rosy, her ample bosom spilling out the top of her simple frock, her blonde hair tied back in a single braid that dropped down her back. The other was slight, delicate, with bronzed skin and chestnut hair that hung down and straight. Her dress fit her closely, covering her from neck to feet. Quieter than her coworker, she held the eye of many of the men in attendance, as she exuded a sensuality that defied what she wore.

  Dixon removed the hood of his cloak. He looked around, briefly watching the barmaids and taking in the number and look of the guests.

  He turned back to Mara to usher her toward the currently unattended reception desk, but before they reached it, the first of the barmaids made her way to his side. He turned abruptly as she caught his attention with a poke to his side.

  “Nancy!” he said, clearly pleased.

  “Dixon, it’s so good to see you.” She embraced him briefly. “Well, who have we here?” she continued, her arm still around his waist, as she turned and looked over Mara, Nina, Adele, and the infants. “Goodness, Dixon, you have been busy! No wonder we haven’t seen you around here of late.”

  He laughed. “Ahhh, Nancy.”

  Mara watched the exchange, surprised that their lighthearted bantering bothered her. She tried to remove the frown from her face, but failed to do so before the barmaid turned her way.

  “Not to worry, ma’am, Dixon and I go way back.” She removed her arm from around him.

  Mara’s mouth dropped open in surprise. She was at a loss for words.

  “Truly, you’ve nothing to fear from me,” Nancy said, smiling.

  Looking down, Dixon grinned and shook his head.

  Mara’s anger rose. That was all she needed—to have him assume this woman somehow bothered her.

  The other barmaid approached. She slid near to Dixon, then reached up and tied her arms around his neck. She kissed his cheek. “Dixon,” she cooed, her eyes glued to his. Her voice was quiet, though her words seemed to carry a deeper meaning coming from the exquisite creature. “So terribly, terribly sorry to hear about your loss.”

  He nodded his appreciation for her sentiments. As she dropped her hold on him, he turned to Mara. “Mara, meet Nancy,” he said motioning to the first of the young women, “and Celestine,” he continued, as he gave a slight squeeze to the exquisite dark creature still in his embrace.

  Mara found herself at a loss for words and was troubled as to why that should be. Celestine. ‘Heavenly.’ Figures. But why should that bother me?

  Celestine greeted Mara, who remained mute, while Dixon introduced the others. Once done, he promised the barmaids he’d catch up with them later.

  At the reception desk sat a scruffy looking man. Mara surmised it must be Ezra, based on Dixon’s earlier description. The man’s hair was turning to gray. He wore a beard of a few days growth. There were the beginning signs of crow’s feet at the outer corners of his eyes, and his shirt, opened at the top, revealed an incredibly hairy chest and toughened, bronze skin.

  Mara, sensing power and kindness in the man’s eyes, felt some of her concerns over safety, lessen.

  “Dixon, how good to see you.” Ezra embraced his friend, but then his expression turned serious. “It’s been too long. I heard about—”

  “Oh, Ezra, there’s so much to fill you in on.” Dixon’s eyes held further meaning, which the innkeeper did not fail to read.

  “Very well then. We’ll have to catch up after you’ve had a chance to freshen up.”

  “Sure.” Dixon introduced Mara and the others.

  “Interesting company you keep,” the innkeeper said to Mara, chuckling and motioning toward Dixon.

  She grinned. “Tell me about it.”

  “He’s a favorite around here.�
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  “Yes, so I see.” She was relieved to have regained her voice.

  “He’s just so very charming, you know. The women can’t seem to stay away from him.” Ezra’s eyes twinkled.

  “So he tells me.”

  He laughed. “I like you,” he said. “We’re going to get on famously, you and I.”

  “Well,” Dixon interrupted, “if you two are through with your mutual admirations . . .”

  “Relax, Dixon,” Ezra said, “you’ve nothing to fear from me.” His eyes quickly darted to Mara. He winked at her, signifying that he’d heard Nancy’s earlier comment and had witnessed the discomfort it caused her.

  Mara was delighted to find that Dixon seemed to be momentarily at a loss for words, but within seconds, he regained his composure. He asked Ezra if he thought they could stay without attracting any unwanted attention. The innkeeper assured him that they could. Dixon then told his friend that additional members of their group would arrive shortly. With that, Ezra led them to their rooms.

  “I’ll see you later then?”

  Dixon nodded.

  “I like her,” Ezra said with a smile as he motioned toward Mara. “Be sure to bring her along.”

  She leaned over the washbasin and splashed her face with water.

  Nina approached. “You shouldn’t worry about it,” she said, her hand on Mara’s back.

  The Oathtaker stood up and looked at Nina. Her eyes narrowed. “Worry about what?”

  “Oh, you know, about Dixon’s teasing you. He’s just trying to rile you up.”

  Mara dried her face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Really, you’ve nothing to worry about.”

  “I’m not worried. About Dixon? Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “He respects you enormously, you know.”

  Mara pursed her lips. She was at a loss for words.

  “And,” Nina continued, “he was jealous out there.”

  “Nina, there’s nothing between Dixon and me. We have a job to do, that’s all.” She turned away.

  “Now who’s being ridiculous?” Nina murmured.

  “Excuse me?” Mara turned back suddenly. She could hear herself, the frustration in her voice.

  “I’m just saying—”

  “Let it go.” Mara would have to have a talk with the woman one day. She’d have to explain how impossible it was for her to be attached to Dixon—or to anyone for that matter—so long as she was subject to her oath.

  She took Eden from Adele, then sat to cuddle the infant. She closed her eyes, confused. Nina had set her to thinking. Why had she kept Dixon with her anyway? Why had she been so insistent about getting him back from the palace? Was it because she needed him to help her to protect the girls? Or because she just wanted to have him near her?

  Her thoughts wandered. She’d chosen to be an Oathtaker. She knew that upon taking her oath, she’d given up any chance of being connected to anyone, or of having her own family—possibly for a very long time. The rules did not permit it—and it was just as well. One time had been enough anyway. That one time, so long ago, had been enough.

  She generally discouraged looking back, and since swearing her oath, she’d refused to do so, even for a minute. But today she found herself stepping back in time, into her memories, her hauntings, her pains.

  As her past invaded her thoughts, she grew tense. Flashes of images ran through her mind, as vivid and intense emotions coursed through her body—feelings of longing, abandonment, betrayal, pain, loneliness, and confusion. She weakly attempted to hold them back, then succumbed to their power.

  She’d been so young, so innocent, so trusting and naïve when Jack had come into her life—handsome, captivating, Jack, whose smile brought a twinkle to his eyes and dimples to his cheeks. She saw him so clearly in her mind. She could almost smell the ever-present scent of mint that he wore.

  Just seventeen, she’d been ignorant of the ways of the world. Jack charged into her life, wooed her. He stirred emotions she’d never before experienced. She thought he’d be there always, that she was the only one for him, and that she need have no fear for the days to come. He would meet any troubles alongside her. She was moved by his presence, his power, his . . . charm. The thought made her frown.

  But then . . .

  Then, along came Jo; Jo, the youngest; Jo, Mother’s favorite; Jo, who never did anything honorable, but whom Mother could never admit did any wrong.

  It had taken Mara years to appreciate how that could be. Then one day, a revelation came to her: Jo was exactly like Mother. She epitomized everything Mother was, everything she believed deep inside herself, and everything she wanted to be, or to have been. Mother allowed Jo her every flaw because Jo’s flaws were her own. The only difference was that Jo was willing to act on things Mother had only dreamed of doing.

  Jo always wanted whatever belonged to Mara. So naturally, when she discovered Jack, she set her eyes upon him. Younger than Mara by just a year, Jo pursued him wherever he went. She seduced him with her smiles and her favors.

  It was only afterward that Mara discovered what Jo had done.

  Afterward. But, am I really at fault for abandoning the little one? Hadn’t it been the only way? I wonder, where is he now? She saw his face in her mind. She counted his little fingers, his toes. She felt his smooth skin, the warmth of his rosy cheeks.

  She didn’t want to revisit these emotions. She didn’t want to remember her failure. She didn’t want to go back. She’d been with the girls for weeks now and had successfully managed not to reflect, not to remember.

  “Mara?”

  She jolted upright.

  “Are you all right?”

  She looked at Nina. She fought to bring herself under control, to put a figurative finger in the dam that would hold back her emotional journey. “Yes, of course.”

  “Are you crying? I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  The Oathtaker wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. She hadn’t meant to reveal her emotions. “No, of course not.”

  “Truly, I’m sorry. Really, I didn’t mean—”

  “Forget it, Nina. I’m not angry. I’m just tired, I guess. This journeying wears on a body.”

  “We’re all right then? You and I?”

  “Sure. Why wouldn’t we be?”

  “You know. What I said before?”

  “Forget it, Nina. I have.”

  Someone knocked at the door.

  “Care to tell me what color is on the other side?” the young woman asked, in an effort to lighten the mood.

  Mara smirked. “I don’t need to. I can hear what they’re thinking.”

  “That works too,” Nina chuckled, clearly relieved that the tension between them had dissipated.

  “It’s Therese and the others.” Mara opened the door to them.

  By the time everyone had cleaned up and changed clothes, it was getting late. They were all hungry—except for the twins, both of whom Nina had just nursed.

  “Want to dine in?” Dixon asked.

  “No, I think we should all go down. These quarters are going to feel cramped soon enough as it is,” Mara said.

  “Great. Do we all sit together? One big group?”

  “Mmmm, no. I think we stay in the same two separate groups. That way, we can better observe whether anyone pays us any undue attention.”

  “I like it.” He turned to Samuel and Jules. “We’ll go now. You come along whenever you’re comfortable.”

  As they made their way to the pub, he turned to Mara. “You know, Nancy was just having a bit of fun with us, right?”

  “Sure. Of course.” She kept her eyes forward. She was unsure of her own feelings and didn’t want to give the wrong impression. Her trip down memory lane had momentarily weakened her.

  “We go way back.”

  She stopped short. “Is there some reason you’re telling me all this, Dixon?” She willed herself not to disclose her discomfort.

  “No .
. . I just didn’t want you to get the wrong impression.”

  “I didn’t get any kind of impression.” She continued forward.

  When they arrived at the pub, Ezra met them. “You look lovely,” he said to Mara.

  She grinned. “How very charming of you,” she said as she nudged him.

  Dixon looked on without expression.

  Ezra directed them to a comfortable corner table. Near it was another empty one. Dixon motioned with a nod that the rest of their party would take it.

  Nina and Adele sat against the wall with the girls. The Oathtakers glanced at one another. They both would have preferred sitting there, but they also wanted to be where they could best defend the infants. They’d have to rely upon Basha and the others to keep their eyes on their backs.

  Celestine arrived with cold ales for them all. “On the house,” she said. “We’re serving roast beef this evening. I hope that will be all right with you all?”

  Just then Ezra directed Basha and the others to their table. Once done, he returned to Mara’s side. “May I?” he asked as he pulled out a chair.

  “Certainly.”

  “Well, old friend, I am surprised to see you here,” he said to Dixon.

  “Oh? Why’s that?”

  “Weeeeellllll,” Ezra drawled, “rumor has it that trouble follows you.”

  Dixon chuckled. “Some things never change, I guess.”

  “Really, are you safe in the city? There are those who would recognize you.”

  “But you said you weren’t concerned for our safety here.”

  “Noooo, that’s right. We’re well covered.”

  “I figured if anyone would be, it would be you. Anyway, I suppose my being in the city isn’t entirely safe, but it’s necessary.” Dixon took a long drink. “We’ve come for information, so naturally, I thought of you.”

  “What kind of information do you seek?”

  The collective attention of the group turned to the bar where a scuffle was underway. Mason, Ezra’s hired muscle, broke up the troublemakers and then ushered them to the door. Once done, the din of the room returned to its former level. Within moments guests lifted mugs and clinked silverware as they returned to business as usual.