Oathtaker

by Patricia Reding

  Basha handed her another snowball. Eden held it and giggled, then sucked on it. The others watched on, all laughing, as she screwed up her face, then resumed her efforts.

  After everyone was out of the carriage, Fidel offered his arm to Leala. “May I?”

  She giggled like a schoolgirl and lifted her chin. “Why, certainly, young man.”

  Nina laughed. Just then, Jules approached her side. Like Fidel, he held his arm out. “May I?” he mimicked the old man.

  She blushed and looked down.

  “Go on, Nina, it’s a party! Enjoy yourself,” Mara urged.

  “Yes, it’s a party,” Ezra chimed in as, having returned to the carriage, he reached behind the seat to remove a fiddle case that sported frayed, roughened edges.

  “You play?” Mara asked. Her eyes were alight with pleasure.

  He grinned. “The lady asked for a party and I intend to oblige.” He made his way back to the house and moments later, the sound of music filled the air.

  Dixon approached Mara after all the others had gone indoors. “You’re putting on a good show.” He looked down and shuffled his feet. “Are you all right, really?” He raised his head and glanced out across the countryside. “I should go in,” he said a moment later. “It’s . . . dangerous out here.” He looked at her.

  She held his gaze, but said nothing. As much as she appreciated his words, they also required that she exercise even greater restraint herself. She hoped, in her moments of weakness, that he would exercise for her, the same control. She glanced up as Nina walked out of the house and headed back to the wagon.

  “Don’t mind me,” the young woman said as she retrieved the girls’ packs. When she turned back, Dixon had gone inside. She approached Mara who’d watched him walk away. “Mara, may I speak with you?”

  “Of course. What’s on your mind?”

  “Please don’t be angry with me, but—”

  “No, of course not. What is it?”

  Nina hooked her arm through Mara’s, then led her forward. “Just a minute ago, when Jules offered me his arm—”

  “I know, Nina. I see the way the two of you look at one another. You have my blessing.”

  “Oh, no. No, that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”

  “All right then, what’s on your mind?”

  Nina exhaled audibly.

  “I won’t be angry, I promise.”

  “It’s just that . . . you love Dixon,” the young woman said, looking Mara in the eye, “and he loves you. It’s like everyone knows it but they pretend it’s not so. And the two of you . . . You seem to avoid each other at every turn. You act as though—”

  Mara held her hand up. “Stop, Nina.”

  “But—”

  “No, stop.” Mara looked away. She released Nina’s hold on her arm and leaned against the railing. She looked out over the countryside. The bleakness of the snow-covered landscape seemed to mirror what she felt in her heart. “What do you know about Oathtakers?” she asked as she glanced back.

  “Not much. Why?”

  “An Oathtaker is not free.”

  “What do you mean?”

  A tear spilled from Mara’s eye. She wiped it away brusquely. “When I took my oath to protect the girls, I swore my life for their safety. How then could I swear myself to another?”

  “But—”

  “There are no ‘buts.’ I knew when I joined the Oathtakers that those were the conditions. I knew when I swore my oath that I was committing myself to abide by those conditions. If Dixon and I were to act on our feelings, I would be removed as the girls’ Oathtaker.” Mara bit her lip. “And . . . that is not an option.”

  “I don’t understand. You swore an oath for both of the girls. Basha has Therese as her charge, yet she also swore an oath for their protection. Why then can you not commit to Dixon?”

  Mara hung her head. “That’s a good question. Interestingly, Fidel and I stumbled on some things the other day in our studies that helped to answer it.” She hesitated. “You see, an Oathtaker does not swear an oath to their charge, they swear an oath for their charge.”

  “What difference does that make?”

  “Well,” Mara began, wondering how to relate what she’d learned, “in the early days, after Ehyeh commissioned the first of the Oathtakers, there were very few of them. So sometimes one would swear an oath to protect more than one person. Eventually, when the numbers of Oathtakers increased, it was possible for the Good One to assign each one to one of the Select. So it seems that it was not—is not—a problem to swear an oath to protect more than one person.”

  She sighed. “But entering into a relationship with someone—marriage,” she said, choking down a sob, “is different. That sort of oath is an oath to someone. It is giving your word that you will become one with that person, and as a result, whatever you do affects them directly. How could you follow your oath to protect someone when it may be contrary to what your loved one desires, or what is good for them, or what is good for the two of you together? For that reason, an Oathtaker with a living charge may not commit to another. The two would be unequally yoked.”

  Nina was silent for a minute. “But why did you become an Oathtaker then?”

  Mara huffed. “Well, funny thing, I thought there could be no one for me. Then, moments after I swore my oath, Dixon entered my life.”

  “So if you’d known him first, you wouldn’t have done it?”

  “I don’t know. But I do know that if I hadn’t been the right one for the girls, Ehyeh would never have called me to their aid. I don’t know what the answer to this is, but—”

  “But couldn’t you just change your mind?” Nina interrupted.

  “You mean about my oath for the girls’ protection?”

  “Yes.”

  “And then swear my life to a man who would always wonder if I’d change my mind about him? Ask someone, anyone, to take my word for something and expect they’d trust me because they knew I’d do whatever it took to abide by my word?”

  Mara turned away. “Depending on the circumstances, I could be tried for treason. The penalty could be . . . Besides, what would happen with the girls? At a minimum, I’d be separated from them. And as hard as that would be for me, imagine how difficult it would be for them to suddenly be entrusted to the care of a . . . stranger.” She turned back. “They aren’t very old, but they know me. They know—us.”

  “But— Maybe—”

  “No, Nina, it’s not possible. I know it, and Dixon knows it. He swore a similar oath himself one day. He understood all of its implications. He wouldn’t ask me to break my word, or to give up those girls, nor would he know what to make of it if I did.”

  “Oh, dear Good One! And I told you that you’d need a wedding dress!” Nina covered her face with her hands. “Why didn’t you tell me then?” She uncovered her eyes and searched Mara’s face.

  The Oathtaker’s eyes welled with tears. “I didn’t have the heart to tell you. But now, you know. It simply cannot be.”

  When a tear spilled from Nina’s eye, Mara wiped it away, smiling weakly. “I need you to be strong for me. Can you do that? There’s no sense in our both being heartbroken.”

  Nina put her arms around Mara. “I’m so sorry.”

  “So am I, Nina, so am I.” Mara grasped the young woman’s forearms. “And yet, I know it was right to answer Ehyeh’s call. I get to watch the girls grow. Since you asked, I suppose I’d have to say that, in the end, I wouldn’t change anything.”

  She looked toward the cabin, taking in the sounds of music and laughter. “Are you ready to go in now? This is supposed to be a party, after all.”

  When they entered the farmhouse, Basha and Therese unpacked lunch amidst the exclamations from all around. They all beheld the beauty of the repast and their noses gloried in the smells that filled the cabin.

  Everyone ate heartily of a fresh green salad, shallot and pancetta tarts kept warm in bundled woolen blankets during the trip, salty co
untry ham and creamy brie sandwiches on flaky croissants, and sweet peaches drizzled with a light olive oil and sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar that they grilled at the hearth.

  They talked and laughed and relaxed in a way they hadn’t in weeks. Everyone vied for a chance to hold the infants, or to dance with them to Ezra’s fiddling, or simply to watch their serene faces when they finally dropped to sleep in exhaustion.

  The Oathtakers and the only Select of the group, Therese, gathered their things and stepped out of the hut, along with Samuel, who insisted on joining them. It was time for experiments. They made their way a short distance from the cabin, always keeping it within sight.

  Mara carried the bowl of crystals. She grasped one of her own and turned it over in her fingers. “You know,” she said to her friends, “I was telling Dixon this morning that these look just like the crystals that make up the windows at sanctuary in Polesk.”

  “That’s what you must have been thinking when we were down in the tunnels of the palace,” Basha said. “Remember? You said they reminded you of something. And you’re right. I never noticed the likeness before.” She picked one up, held it up to the light, and examined it closely.

  “I don’t know what it means,” Mara said, smiling at Dixon in an effort to assure him that she was in good spirits, “but it is interesting.” She looked out. “All right, as you know, the first time, when my crystal got bumped out of my hand, it blew up. Fortunately, harm did not come to Basha and me. But it might have. So let’s all be careful. Who wants to go first?”

  “Why don’t you?” Basha suggested.

  Mara watched for the consent of the others. “All right.” She handed the bowl to her. “I’ll throw it there.” She pointed to an area filled with boulders and rocks.

  She put out her free arm to caution the others to step back, then threw the crystal. When it hit the ground, it exploded. Smaller rocks flew into the air. Larger boulders rocked in place. One very large one split in two.

  “Whoa!” Therese exclaimed.

  Dixon stepped forward. “I wonder whether one of your crystals will explode for any of us.”

  “Good question. Here, you try.” She handed him one of her crystals.

  He confirmed the others were out of the way, then threw the crystal. Once again, an explosion rocked the area.

  “You try, Basha,” Mara said.

  Basha followed suit, then Ezra. Each time, the crystal blew up.

  Basha clapped in her excitement. “My turn! My turn!” she cried. “I want to try one of mine!”

  Mara grinned at the woman’s child-like enthusiasm. “All right.”

  “Wait!”

  Everyone stopped and turned to Samuel. It was so unusual for him to speak.

  “What is it?” Mara asked.

  “May I try?”

  “Yes, and me?” Therese added.

  “Yes, they should try!” Dixon exclaimed.

  “I quite agree.” Mara gave each of them one of her crystals.

  “You first,” Samuel said.

  Therese smiled, turned away, and then threw the crystal. It exploded on impact. “Now you, Samuel,” she said.

  He tossed the crystal. A moment passed. Nothing happened. Another second passed. Just as Mara turned his way, it exploded. She ducked and covered her head with her hands.

  “That’s interesting,” Dixon said. “But I wonder. Did it work for Therese because she’s Select? And did it work for Samuel even though he is neither Oathtaker nor Select because it would work for anyone? Or did it work for either or both of them because of something else like . . . Well, like the oaths they’ve sworn to protect the girls?”

  For a moment Mara’s shoulders slumped. “Always more questions.”

  “Yes, but we’re getting answers too, don’t forget,” Therese said.

  “Right you are.” Mara’s smile returned. Nothing was going to keep her from enjoying this outing.

  Once again, Basha clapped her hands. “My turn! My turn!” she repeated her earlier demand.

  As the others laughed at her, Dixon took the bowl of crystals. She extracted one of her blue ones. She cautioned the group to step back, then threw it. For a moment, nothing happened. Then they all exclaimed when frost covered all the trees and shrubs in the area.

  “Interesting,” Dixon commented. “Let me try.” He chose another destination, one farther into the river where the current was sufficient to keep the water running. Within moments an ice patch formed. It was about the same distance across as Dixon was tall.

  Once again, each of the others tried Basha’s crystals, and each got the same result. This time Samuel’s came with no delay.

  Ezra was next. He tossed his orange-pink crystal. Moments later, flames shot out from the space where it landed, burning to soot, all the plant life within an area about six foot round. The others experimented with his crystals, and they all got the same results.

  Finally, Dixon threw one of his green ones. A gust of wind mowed down to flat, everything in the area. Then, Mara tried one. She threw it at a sapling. A blast of wind blew it to the ground, root ball and all. Therese threw one at a larger tree. Its upper branches bent far down, though the trunk did not snap or break. As before, the others got similar results.

  Satisfied with their experiments, Mara turned to the others. “Well, what do you say we get back to our party?”

  “That sounds good,” Basha said as she started toward the house. A moment later, she turned back. “You know, it took a couple of hours to get out here today and dusk does come on early this time of year. How long do you want to be?”

  Mara looked skyward. The sun had visited them kindly this day, but soon would begin its short descent down for the night. “Another hour or so?”

  “I suppose we’ll have to pack up soon then. We’ll let Ezra’s music keep us company.” Basha looked at him, smirking.

  “Certainly,” he responded.

  “Why don’t you all head in,” Dixon said. “Mara and I will be there shortly.”

  She glanced at him, a question in her eyes, as their friends headed toward the cabin.

  “Walk with me,” he said.

  She kept in step. “Something on your mind?”

  “No, I just want to be near you.”

  “Oh, Dixon.”

  He turned toward her. A moment later, he grasped her arm and pulled her behind a nearby tree.

  “Dixon!” she scolded.

  “Shhh.” He held a finger to his lips. He peeked around the tree, then pulled her forward. “See there?” he asked, pointing.

  “Who is it, do you think?”

  “It’s a sentry. A scout. See his uniform?”

  “He’s dressed like the soldiers we saw in Polesk.”

  “Right.”

  “What do you think he’s scouting?”

  “Could be for us. Could just be for his dinner.”

  “But you think he’s one of Lilith’s men.”

  Dixon nodded.

  “What do we do?”

  The man turned toward a grove of trees and disappeared from view.

  “If we talk to him, we have to kill him. Otherwise, he’d tell Lilith of our whereabouts.”

  Mara’s jaw set. She thought about all she’d seen in Polesk. “Maybe we should just kill him anyway,” she muttered. “It would be one less beast to prey upon the children of Oosa.”

  “And if he’s not alone?”

  “You think there are others?”

  “I don’t know. But for now, he hasn’t seen us, so he can’t report anything about us.”

  “So we should be on our way right away then?”

  “I think so.”

  The sound of a breaking twig carried through the air. Mara reached for Spira and quickly turned toward it. There was Samuel, bringing things back to the carriage. She exhaled with relief as he returned to the cabin.

  She looked back at Dixon. It was then that she saw him—another soldier—over Dixon’s shoulder. He must have come up from
behind when she and Dixon had taken cover. Standing not twenty feet away, he held a sword in his hand.

  What? Dixon asked silently, apparently noticing her expression change.

  Her eyes never left the stranger. She would throw Spira, but Dixon was in the way.

  Slowly, he turned, simultaneously reaching for his blade.

  The soldier stood nonchalantly. His head appeared upside down, as it’s top was bald, while upon his face and throat a long, thick, grizzly black beard grew.

  Dixon moved, revealing Mara’s presence.

  “I wouldn’t if I were you,” the man warned as he spat upon the ground. He tipped his head to the left.

  The Oathtakers’ eyes followed the gesture. There stood another man. They looked back to the first one. This time he tipped his head to the right. Again they followed his signal. There stood yet another.

  “Like I was saying, I wouldn’t make any fast moves.”

  “What are you doing here?” Mara asked.

  He grinned. “I might ask you the same. There’s been some commotion going on here.”

  “What do you want?”

  He nodded to his cohorts. They both moved in closer.

  Mara glanced at Dixon, then shifted her eyes toward the man at her side. I’ll take him. Then she glanced at the man on Dixon’s side. You get him.

  With a lift of his chin, Dixon agreed to her proposal.

  Their eyes met for a second and then in one quick move, they both turned and threw their blades.

  Spira found its mark. The soldier’s eyes opened wide. He sought to step forward, but before his foot came down, his body swayed, then crashed to the ground.

  Mara rushed forward even as the man to Dixon’s side fell. She crouched, rolled over the body of the one she’d killed, grasped Spira, and pulled her weapon from his chest.

  The remaining soldier raised his sword. Everything had happened so quickly. He stood, as though in shock, his mouth open in surprise.

  “What was that you were saying?” Mara quipped.

  “Ah—I–”

  Dixon stepped behind him, wrenched his sword away, then tossed it to the ground. “Are there more?”