Oathtaker

by Patricia Reding

  “The palace guard?”

  “No,” Lance shook his head, “not the palace guard.”

  “I don’t understand,” Dixon said.

  “They were foreigners and they just came out of nowhere.”

  “Foreigners?”

  “Yes. I thought I’d be well out of range by the time Lilith arrived. We all knew the event she was going to hold was out of the ordinary, so I wanted to report back here. But I met up with her soldiers every step of the way. Finally, caught with my back to the wall, I was forced to jump off a cliff—and I mean that literally, not figuratively,” he added, glancing at Ezra. “Fortunately, I was met by the river.” He took another drink. “I followed it for miles, far from my intended path, before I was clear of them.”

  “Then what?” Dixon asked.

  “Then I came straight here.” Lance shook his head. “I can’t believe no one got here before me. Someone should have been here long ago.”

  “No, you’re the first in some time,” Ezra said.

  “Hmmm. Well, all I can say for sure is that something definitely is not right.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  This being the forty-ninth day since the girls were born, and having rested for nearly a week since arriving at The Clandest Inn, Mara planned a trip to sanctuary with Nina, Adele, and the twins. Dixon wanted to accompany her to dedicate the girls. Concerned, however, that he would not go unnoticed there, and that if discovered, the authorities might take him into custody, she insisted he stay behind. Although reluctant to take anyone else along, she finally relented to his urgings, and allowed Jules to join her.

  When they entered the grounds, a young man handed them all copies of Tidings, the traditional writings attributed as divine revelation of the Good One. “Compliments of the local Oathtakers,” he said with a smile.

  Several groups sat on the lawn in circles reasoning and discussing amongst themselves. Just off sanctuary grounds, picketers carried signs bearing slogans against the Select and their Oathtakers. Private troops of Oathtakers that served at sanctuary surrounded the area so as to keep the peace and to provide safety for sanctuary visitors.

  The steps to the front door rose up before them. In the middle of each was an indentation testifying to the countless souls that had come and gone before. As the ball of Mara’s foot met up with the smoothened groove in the step, she almost lost her balance. She righted herself, then offered a hand to Adele who followed behind.

  When they entered sanctuary, they joined a group touring the campus.

  In many ways the main building rivaled that of sanctuary in Polesk and in some ways even exceeded it. Paintings delighting in life events covered the walls. The ceiling of one room boasted a mural in the minutest of detail. As at Polesk, the windows depicted the meanings behind the firsts through the sevenths of the Select. Here, however, they were made from glass panes, not with the seemingly infinite number of small crystals as made up the windows at Polesk. Consequently, these windows did not refract light in the same manner as did the others.

  The Oathtaker leading the tour brought the group to the area reserved for paying respects to Ehyeh. There, a number of people, many elderly, prayed. The sounds varied from the quietest whispers of gratitude, to full voiced supplications, to exclamatory songs of praise.

  Mara inhaled deeply, recognizing the scent of some Select in attendance. As she did, she had the uncanny feeling someone watched her. She looked about. Seeing nothing, she shook off the sensation.

  “Listen to those worshipers!” Nina whispered. “The hair on my arms is rising. Oh, I’ve so much to be grateful for. It makes me long to add my thanks.”

  Minutes later, the group moved on. The guide pointed out the library and research center located in a separate building accessible from the same walkway that led from the street to the main sanctuary. To the other side, he noted the training center and a dormitory used by students, guests, and sanctuary regulars. It was there, he explained, that young people spent years living and training, in an effort to earn their Oathtaker credentials. He returned the group, when his tour was complete, to the vestibule of the main building.

  “I’d like to spent a few minutes in the worship hall first,” Mara said. “Then we’ll go to the research center.”

  “Lead on,” Jules said.

  Once inside the worship area, Mara took Reigna from Nina. She positioned the infant in the crook of one arm, then asked Adele to place Eden in her other arm.

  Nodding at Jules, she silently entreated him to keep a close eye on things. Then she asked Nina and Adele to accompany her to the altar. Worshippers in fervent supplication surrounded it. She carefully laid the infants down, then took each of the young women by the hand.

  Looking skyward, she spoke. “Ehyeh, dear Good One, I thank you for the opportunity to serve you. I thank you for the confidence you’ve placed in me with these little ones. Dear Good One, I dedicate these precious lives back to you and to your service. I pray you will use me, hone me, teach me, so I may best serve them, and in that way, may best serve your cause.”

  Tears welled in Nina and Adele’s eyes. Mara smiled at them, then resumed her prayer. “Dear Good One, I pray strength for myself and for my friends and cohorts. Bless them all. Bless them for their care, their giving, and their sacrifices.”

  She looked to Jules and then added, “Bless them dear Good One for their strength of heart, mind, and body.” Finally, she bowed her head. “Dear Good One, I commit these blessed infants to you and to your care and protection.”

  When she was through, Mara led her group to the rear of the chamber. “To the research center,” she said.

  As she turned to go, an old woman brushed past her. The veins in her arms and hands stood out like markings of blue delineating riverways on a map. Her arthritic fingers were curled and bent, as though in the act of grasping something for eternity. The moment she touched Mara, their eyes met.

  The Oathtaker tensed.

  The old woman’s gray eyes boasted a streak of strength and perseverance that was ages old, but in no way tired or lacking. Her old, puckered mouth gaped into a smile. Putting a crumpled hand to her breast, she exclaimed, “Oh, dear Good One!”

  At a loss, Mara looked around. Seeing no one, and realizing the woman’s attention was on her, she reached for Spira. She didn’t want to attract attention, but prepared herself to meet danger in any form.

  “Don’t be frightened,” the old woman murmured, reaching out.

  Mara pulled away before the woman could grasp her, then stepped back. She kept one hand on Spira. With the other, she directed her friends to retreat.

  The woman smiled, startling Mara. While poor, disheveled, and generally untidy, her expression was genuine. She portrayed a sense of peace.

  “I thought that was you there at the altar. Oh, how I’ve waited for you!” she exclaimed in a voice barely above a whisper. “The Good One promised I would meet you one day, and here you are, after all this time.” Her fingers trembled. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears.

  Mara’s eyes narrowed. Quickly, she assessed the situation. There was no apparent danger, yet the Oathtaker remained alert.

  Once again, the old woman stepped forward.

  Once again, Mara stepped back.

  The woman looked down at herself. She pouted, but then smiled wanly. “Don’t believe everything you see,” she chided. “My body, my strength and beauty, all are things of the past. But my heart remains pure for Ehyeh,” she said, tapping her finger to her chest.

  “Who are you? And what do you want of me?”

  “I am Leala. The Good One changed my name to Leala when he saw my faithfulness.”

  Mara’s brow rose. “What do you mean you’ve been waiting for me?”

  “I’ve been here every day for sixty long years waiting for you. After my husband went to meet with the Good One, I came here to seek Him daily, and here I’ve remained ever since.”

  “Who is it you think I am? And how could you
know I would come here? Even I didn’t know until recently.”

  Leala smiled and shook her head. “No, it’s not you exactly whom I’ve awaited.” Her voice quivered with age.

  “What do you mean?”

  “We’ve been waiting for the little one.”

  “‘We’ve?’ Who is ‘we’ve?’ And the ‘little one?’”

  “Her!” Leala exclaimed as she pointed toward Reigna. Then she cocked her head to the side. Her brow furrowed. She turned her gray eyes from Nina, who held Reigna, to Adele, who held Eden. “Waaaait,” she whispered, a question in her eyes. “Her?” she asked, nodding toward Reigna again. “Or . . . her?” she asked as her gaze moved to Eden.

  Mara stepped forward. She grasped Leala by the forearm. “Explain yourself.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You don’t understand what?”

  “I know you’re the right Oathtaker, and that one of those infants is right, but . . . But I . . . Which—”

  “What do you mean that I’m the right Oathtaker? What Oathtaker do you seek?”

  “Why you, of course.” The woman poked her finger at Mara.

  “And what Oathtaker am I?”

  Leala’s smile moved from her lips to her cheeks and then landed in her old gray eyes, making them glisten. “The Oathtaker to the seventh seventh of course!”

  Mara pursed her lips. “What do you know of a seventh seventh?”

  The old woman looked at Nina and Reigna, Adele and Eden. Her gaze did not return to Mara until Jules stepped forward, cutting off her view.

  “Now, that’s where I’m confused,” she said slowly. “I’m sure she’s here, but I know not which . . .” She looked away, lost in thought for a moment. Then she exclaimed, “Oh, gracious Ehyeh!” Her eyes flashed wide, her face lit up. For a moment she looked twenty years younger. “The seventh seventh ‘who is but is n—’”

  “Shhhh!” Once again, the Oathtaker looked around the room. Fortunately, notwithstanding the old woman’s apparent agitation, they’d not attracted any unwanted attention.

  Leala could barely contain herself. She squirmed, a question in her eyes.

  Mara glanced downward. “You are correct, Leala,” she said, looking back up to meet her eyes, “but I’m sure you can appreciate that I will require your silence.”

  “Oh yes! Yes, of course. We won’t say anything.”

  “‘We!’ Who is ‘we?’” Mara asked for the second time. This time her voice sounded hard and demanding.

  At just that moment, an elderly man approached. Dressed impeccably, he carried himself as a man of nobility, a man of means. His age-spotted shiny head reflected the candlelight in the room. His cheeks, clean and pink with good health, practically shone.

  In anticipation of danger, Mara again reached for Spira. She was surprised to find Leala’s hand upon her forearm urging her not to take action.

  The old gentlemen stopped. He bowed from his waist. His cloak fell forward. When he stood back up, he moved it back behind his shoulders.

  Mara regarded him silently for a moment. “Who are you?”

  “He’s—” Leala began.

  Mara turned hardened eyes upon the woman. “I’m asking him,” she gestured with a flick of her head.

  The old man bowed again. “I am Fidel. At your service.”

  “Fidel, huh?”

  A look of surprise crossed his face. “Yes, Fidel.”

  “And I suppose that you also were named by the Good One? Named for your faithfulness?”

  “Why, yes, of course.”

  “Uh-huh. And what business have you with me, Fidel the faithful?”

  He smiled softly. “Why, dear Oathtaker, my business is with you because you bring to us the seventh seventh.”

  “Fidel,” Leala said.

  Mara shushed the woman with a frown. “And how is it you’ve come to know of a seventh seventh?” she asked the old man.

  “Why, the Good One promised I would live to see this day, of course. I’ve waited many long years for—”

  “And what makes you think I know anything of this seventh seventh you seek?” she interrupted.

  He scowled. “Why she’s right there,” he said pointing toward the young women and infants. “But . . .”

  Leala fidgeted.

  Mara shook her head at the woman, insisting she remain silent. “But what?”

  “But . . . there’s something more here,” he continued, squinting.

  “Yes?”

  He dropped to his knees, then bowed so low his head met the floor.

  “Get up!” Mara demanded quietly.

  “Dear Oathtaker,” he whispered, “may the Good One bless and keep you! You have brought to us the seventh seventh and she ‘who is but is not!’”

  “Get up!” she again demanded. “You’re going to attract attention to us all.”

  Slowly, he made his way to his knees, and then with Mara’s assistance, to his feet. He glanced around. A few onlookers had stopped, puzzled by the drama going on. He waved them away with a smile.

  “Forgive me, dear one,” he said turning back to her.

  “Should I be watching out for more of the faithful?” Mara could hear the old sarcasm in her words and voice, a sarcasm that was ever present in moments of perceived danger.

  He chuckled. “No, it’s just me and old Leala.”

  “Old!” Leala exclaimed, grinning. “Speak for yourself, ancient one.”

  Mara dropped her head and shook it. “I’d hoped to keep our presence secret.” She looked back at the oldtimers. Her expression softened. “So you’ve been waiting for the girls?”

  “I’ve been waiting for years, as I said,” Leala responded. “And I was only waiting for a seventh seventh. I never dreamed!”

  “And you?” Mara asked, turning to Fidel.

  Tears moistened his eyes. “I’ve been on my own for many years now. I’ve dedicated my life to others and to Ehyeh. Like Leala here, I’ve spent my days in service and in supplication. The Good One assured me that in exchange, one day, I would see the seventh seventh foretold of. But like Leala, I never dreamed of meeting ‘she who is but is not.’”

  Mara watched them both, then motioned for her companions to approach. “Would you like to meet them?”

  “Would we!” they exclaimed simultaneously.

  As Nina and Adele neared, Jules drew closer. Clearly, he was less than pleased. Even so, Mara presented the girls to Leala and Fidel. Their eyes welled with tears.

  “Can we count on your silence?” she asked.

  “Most certainly!” Leala assured her.

  “And you?” Mara asked Fidel.

  “My dear, I would—”

  “Die for them,” the two old ones said in unison.

  At exactly that moment, the ground shook.

  Some sanctuary guests ran for cover, while others cried in fear. Within moments, however, the shaking ceased and the people resumed their former activities with little loss of time.

  Accompanied by the oldtimers, Mara and company gathered around a table on sanctuary grounds. She explained about their journey and their purpose for visiting sanctuary. In answer to their questions, she informed the old ones that the oath they’d each sworn was most serious, as the confirmation they received witnessed. Leala and Fidel assured her of their good intentions and expressed their desire to be of assistance.

  “How many years did you say you’d been studying here?” Jules asked Leala.

  “Years? Oh, my, more than sixty, for sure.”

  “You must have been a very young woman when you first arrived.”

  “Young! Oh, dear me, no.”

  “Not young?” Mara asked.

  The old woman laughed. “No. No, I married my dear Jonathan when we both were just twenty. What a dear good man, may his blessed soul rest in peace. He died at near seventy and I’ve been here since.”

  “Wait,” Nina said. “That makes you . . . What? About—”

  “I’d say one hun
dred thirty or so. I must confess, I stopped keeping track some time ago,” she whispered conspiratorially to the young woman.

  “Whew!” Jules exclaimed. “And you, Fidel? How about you?”

  “Oh, I’m just a young pup compared to Leala here.”

  “Young pup, my—”

  “There, there, Leala,” he said, patting her gnarled hand. “Young ears. Young ears about. Watch your language.” He smiled broadly.

  “Well?” Mara asked, struggling to keep her grin at bay. “How long?”

  He leaned in. “If you must know,” he said, then he turned to Leala. “Cover your ears old woman. This information is not for you.”

  “Ha ha ha! You’re no spring chicken. I know that.”

  Mara smiled as she watched the old people banter like siblings. “Well?” she asked again.

  Fidel looked at Leala and raised a brow. She sighed deeply, then covered her ears and rolled her eyes, clearly humoring him.

  Once again, he leaned in. “Well now, don’t let on about this to Leala.” He turned to confirm she covered her ears and was not trying to read his lips. “She thinks I’m younger than she is,” he whispered, “and the truth is, I like to let her think so. But,” again a quick glance her way, “I’m three years her senior!”

  Mara and her friends laughed.

  “What? What’s funny?” Leala removed her hands from her ears.

  “Nothing, old woman,” Fidel said. “They’re just enjoying a good chuckle at my expense is all. They’re clearly amazed at how a young man such as I, could be so brilliant.”

  “Huh! They’re probably laughing at what a know-it-all you make yourself out to be.”

  “All right, so you’ve both been here for some time,” Mara interrupted. “What I need to know is how you can help me. I don’t think it’s any mistake that you’re both here. I believe you’re here for this time and for a particular purpose.”

  “Well put,” Fidel said.

  “So?” the Oathtaker asked.

  “Well,” Leala said, “we’ve both studied here for years. My expertise is history.”

  “And mine,” Fidel said, “is prophecy.”