Dieter leaned back and regarded Raipur thoughtfully for a long moment. Then he leaned forward, as if he'd decided to say something important. "In case you haven't figured it out, morale in this army is at an all-time low. We had our asses kicked by those demons, and the Marines had to bail us out, and now everything's changed, our ranks, our names, our leadership. I liked being a member of the Burning Bush Regiment, Sword. I learned my profession in that regiment. Now what are we? Numbers, plain numbers. ‘Second Regiment, Fourth Division, Army Group B.’" He sneered. He hesitated and an angry flush came to his cheeks. "I do not appreciate either that the leaders of my sect were murdered." He spit the word out in a whisper. "Like that boy who wouldn't swear that filthy ‘oath’!" He paused. "But we follow our orders," he continued, his voice hard, rasping, "because we're professionals and because we don't want our brains all over the parade field."
Dieter lifted up a sheaf of papers. "See this pile of toilet paper? These are the ‘oaths’ you men just swore and signed your names to." He threw them on the floor in disgust. "You know what that man was before he murdered our legal government and took over this world. How do you feel, bound to him by your oath, Sword?" Raipur was not supposed to give an answer to that question. "You know, our ‘Glorious Leader’ and I have something in common: we've both reached the highest rank we're ever going to hold. As soon as we're back in garrison, Sword, I'm resigning my commission."
Raipur had known Dieter for years. They'd been through the Skink invasion together, and the sergeant was aware that his company commander respected him and would never believe anything Ben Loman might have said about him. But he began to perspire as he stood there. He understood that Dieter had just put his life into his hands. It was safe there. If he wouldn't rat on his useless platoon commander, he was not about to turn on a soldier like Captain Sepp Dieter. Besides, he agreed with every word the captain had said.
Dieter bent to pick up the papers. He motioned for Raipur to step closer to his desk. "I'll tell you something, Sergeant," he whispered. "Much more of this shit and that asshole and his praetorian guard will be in for a very big surprise." He straightened and said in his normal tone of voice, "We'll talk later. For now, dismissed!"
Raipur came to attention, saluted smartly, about-faced and walked out into the heat of the day.
Chapter 15
The spot she'd picked to birth her young—she was overdue—the place that she thought would give her security when she most needed it, was turning into a meeting place for Earthman couples. First the two who'd bombarded her with stones and then jabbed her with sticks, and now these two. They lay on the stream bank, grunting and groaning and rolling around. The dark one emitted muffled squeals while the white one grunted continuously until at last it emitted a low, protracted groan and lay still. They both lay motionless for some time, breathing heavily.
She peered at the Earthmen through the brush and debris behind which she was hiding, her body stretched out in the sluggish stream and submerged in the viscous mud. She had seen it all. It was a curious performance and, frankly, she had been fascinated. At last she concluded they might be reproducing; the ritual had been similar to what the True People did. If so, the performance represented a strange kinship between her own people and the alien Earthmen. She was at once repelled and attracted to the pair; repelled because they were strangely similar but dangerous natural enemies of the True People and must be destroyed—as the Great Master told them, and the Great Master was never wrong—and attracted because they seemed now to have that very important thing in common.
She resolved to think about this. While the Earthmen lay still, apparently communicating in whispers, she recalled the Large One whose offspring she was carrying. It had been her duty to serve the Large One, and she had done so enthusiastically. She wondered what had happened to him. So many had been killed by the Earthmen before the Great Master gave the order to evacuate. She supposed he lived only in the child she was carrying, hopefully a male.
Spencer helped Emwanna to a sitting position and offered her a drink from the water bottle he'd brought along. He was supposed to be out in the fields that morning, working with the other men, but at first break he'd pretended to wander off, and met Emwanna along one of the trails that led to the fort. No training was scheduled, so they knew the spot would be empty.
During the weeks since Spencer had finally realized Comfort was not interested in him, he'd taken a casual interest in Emwanna, who was friendly and a hard worker, two qualities the New Salemites appreciated. The interest had deepened gradually into something more serious, and one night while on guard, she came to him, in violation of Zechariah's ironclad rule about no distractions while on watch. They hadn't been discovered, and afterward Spencer began thinking about a permanent relationship with Emwanna.
For her part, Emwanna was looking for a man, any man, to replace the husband she'd lost. She left Chisi in the care of one of the other women and went to meet Spencer at the fort, their prearranged rendezvous.
"You've gained some weight," Spencer observed.
"You feed me good."
"Least we could do for a guest."
"Maybe you make me with baby, Spence-ter." She was improving her Standard English quickly but sometimes had difficulty with pronunciation.
"Ahh..." Spencer said vaguely, but let the sentence trail off. It was better he didn't comment at all on that subject.
"Miz Hannah, she teach me lots about your god. She say he is everywhere, in everything, know everything, see everything. Think he sees us now, Spence-ter?"
"Yeah, Emwanna, sure," Spencer replied, starting to put his clothes back on, embarrassed. Of course God saw everything, but no normal person went around thinking He was looking over your shoulder all the time. Well, He was, but—
"Among my people, when a woman lose her husband or a wife die, the one is okay to take another mate. All my people, they are dead, I think. Just Chisi, me, now." Spencer helped her to her feet. "You, me, we marry, Spence-ter."
"You are not of our faith," Spencer answered lamely, because he couldn't think of anything else to say in response to such a forward suggestion. After all, the man was supposed to make the marriage proposal.
"You like me," Emwanna said. It was a statement of fact, not an accusation.
"Well, yes, but you must accept Jesus Christ as your personal savior and the Holy Bible as the Word of God. You have to do that at meeting, in front of everyone, and people will ask you questions about the truth of your faith."
"Yes."
"You will?" Spencer was astonished at how readily she had agreed.
"Yes. I do not know your god, Spence-ter, but I know your people. You good people. You give Emwanna home. So you good, your god good too. I will follow him."
"Okaaay," Spencer replied tentatively, then: "Okay! Right! Emwanna, I won't go back to the fields this afternoon. We'll go see Zechariah and ask him to help us. Sure, I'll marry you!" He seized her about the waist and they kissed.
Samuel Sewall, at 102 the oldest resident of New Salem even before the massacre, and an elder in the City of God sect, had been called to Zechariah's home for a consultation when Spencer Maynard and Emwanna knocked on the Brattles' door. Consort Brattle answered the knock, and when she saw the two standing there, knew what they wanted. As the premassacre and present mayor of New Salem, and by default the leader of what remained of the City of God sect, Zechariah Brattle possessed all the authority of both a clergyman and a notary. He led the faithful at meeting, but theirs would be his first marriage ceremony.
Consort ushered the pair into Zechariah's study. Samuel, frail but still hardy, kept his seat.
"Sir, we wish you to marry us," Spencer said without preamble.
Zechariah glanced at Samuel, who rolled his eyes. "She is a heathen," Samuel said, not accusatorially, but as a simple statement of fact. "She has not been baptized. You know better than that. You know we cannot condone a union between someone who has been baptized and someone wh
o has not."
"But I thought because of her status, we could be married, and then afterward—"
"Spencer, you are not thinking," Zechariah said. "Samuel is making a valid point of church doctrine and discipline. She is not of our faith, and I shall not marry you with her until she is. If you have relations with this woman without the benefit of marriage, you are in danger of hellfire. You know what St. Paul has written on that subject. Now," he held up his hand to forestall a protest, "Emwanna is a decent and hardworking woman, and in her temporal life she lives as cleanly as any of us, but until she is baptized, she cannot be saved."
"Emwanna wishes to embrace Christ and join us."
"Is that so, child?" Zechariah asked.
"Yes, Father Zechariah."
"Ah, just call me Zechariah. Well...?" He turned to Samuel.
"She is not of our race," Samuel said.
"That is true, Brother Sewall. But all souls are equal before God. Anyone who truly wishes to walk in the way of Christ can qualify for membership and participate in the church covenant." He spoke directly to Emwanna: "That's the reciprocal promise we make to Christ as a result of His presence in our church."
"We've been doing that since 1648, child." Old Samuel nodded as he spoke. "Why do you want to marry this woman, Spencer?" Samuel asked. "Is it your passion that drives you two to marriage? Spencer, I have known you all your life, and your father and grandfather before him. You Maynards have always been a headstrong clan. Why, your grandfather, when he was in the army—"
"No need to go into that," Zechariah said quickly. "But Brother Sewall has asked a good question, Spencer. You are a young man, twenty-four, twenty-five? Miss Emwanna is an attractive and healthy woman. In making this request, are you speaking with your heart or some other organ?"
"Both," Spencer answered immediately.
The two older men looked at one another again and then burst out laughing. "Well," Samuel said, "the boy's quick, I'll give him that, and honest too." He turned to Emwanna. "You will have to undergo a period of instruction, child, and then appear before all of us at meeting and be examined rigorously to satisfy us that your conversion is genuine. A full church member must vouch for you, that you are a virtuous and serious candidate for membership in our church. I believe Zechariah or I would be willing to do that. You have lain with Spencer, I know that, child. But I am convinced your virtue is intact and we shall not speak of that again." He looked at Zechariah for confirmation. Zechariah nodded in agreement. "Then," he continued, "we will vote on your acceptance into the church. Used to be, in the old days, that only the men could vote, but long ago we extended that right to every adult. Once you are baptized, you can take communion with us. At that point, child, you will be one of us. Well, Spencer, Emwanna, do you agree?"
They both answered yes immediately. "Spencer, she already has a child by her deceased husband. Would you take this child as your own and raise him in our faith?"
"Yessir!" Spencer looked at Emwanna, and she nodded her assent.
"Very well, then," Zechariah announced, putting on his invisible ecclesiastical robes. "I will talk to Hannah Flood and ask her and Samuel, here, to guide your intended through a course of instruction. Can you read, child?"
"Not in your language, Father Zechariah." She excused herself immediately by adding, "Among my people the elders are all addressed as Father or Mother. I mean no bad thing when I call you that."
Zechariah smiled. "Good, so long as you haven't confused me with some Popish minister." When he saw the look of confusion on her face, he added, "Just an ecumenical joke, miss, forget it. Spencer, you will teach her how to read English. She must be able to read and understand the Bible before we will accept her into the City of God, and you will be married only after that. You are excused from work in the fields—but not watch—to take care of that and to assist in her religious education. Meanwhile, I charge you—listen carefully, young man!—not to have sexual relations with Emwanna until after you are married. As the chief magistrate of this town and the elder of our church, as elected by its members, I have the authority to solemnize your vows, but shall do so only after you have satisfied all these requirements. Do you understand? Do both of you understand?"
They both answered yes immediately. Spencer grinned. "Well, that only means I'll have to give her a crash course in English!"
"Get out of here, you rascal!" Zechariah shouted, pointing imperiously at the doorway, "and sin no more!" After the two had left, he turned to Samuel and laughed. "Well, I never expected that."
"Interesting start to our afternoon," Samuel agreed. "But now on to serious business?" By that he meant an interview with Comfort Brattle. Zechariah felt the time had come at last to talk to her frankly—and officially, not as her father, those talks had gone nowhere—about Charles, and he wanted Samuel Sewall there as a respected elder adviser when he did.
Comfort came in when summoned and sat demurely in front of the two men. "Daughter, I have asked Brother Sewall to join me this afternoon. We wish to talk to you about your future."
"I am in love with Charles, Father, even if he does not love me," she said, anticipating the subject of the interview. She cast her eyes down at the floor as she spoke.
"This love is barren, child," Samuel said. "Charles has assured your father he does not return it, has no intention of returning it. He is a man of his word, child, and your father and I wish you to get a grip on yourself. You are causing Charles distraction."
"No!" Comfort protested, "I would never do that! I know Charles does not love me, Father, but that does not change how I feel about him. I cannot help myself." She was almost in tears.
"Daughter, Charles has heavy responsibilities," Zechariah said. "I believe he was sent here by the Lord to save our church, even though he is not a believer himself. The Lord works in strange ways. Besides, I think Charles is in love with the Colleen woman, who endured a horrid captivity with him and is closer to his own age. He is my age, daughter, far too old for a woman of your years. It is unseemly among us for anyone to entertain the thought of such an uneven union."
"And he is not of the faith, child," Samuel added. "That is most important. He is a good man, with a great heart and great courage, but he does not believe."
"He does not even know where he comes from," Zechariah continued. "For all he or anyone knows, he is already married, with children your own age! Would you be a partner to adultery?"
Comfort Brattle had never felt so alone and abandoned in her young life. She knew everything her father and Mr. Sewall said was true, and she also knew that Charles would never love her the way she loved him. She was disgraced, her removal from watch duties had hurt her self-respect profoundly, and Charles had done it to her, but she still loved him. And in the back of her mind she knew Charles had been right to relieve her that night. She was acting like a child, but she could not help herself. She sat there downcast and miserable, and the two old men took pity on her.
"Comfort," Samuel began, his voice gentle, "listen to me. I have lived a long life. You will too, God willing. This will pass, I assure you. You must get on with your life, child. You are strong and brave. It is women like you who hold this community together. Do not disappoint us."
"Daughter, you know I love you," Zechariah said. "Since your brother was killed you have been your mother's and my only hope to continue our line. We want you to marry well, Comfort, to live long and prosper. You are obligated as a member of this church to propagate and ensure the survival of our faith. If you were to go away with this Charles, our family would be destroyed. Do you understand that?"
Comfort looked at him, tears blurring her vision.
"Comfort, young Benjamin Stoughton has formally asked me for your hand in marriage. He is exactly your age. You played together as children. I have invited him to dine with us this evening. I only ask that you be polite to him and consider his proposal."
Comfort anticipated that the dinner would be a disaster, and it was, but for reasons
no one anticipated.
Consort Brattle had prepared beef and vegetables, needlessly apologizing to her guest for the simplicity of the fare.
Zechariah said grace. His method was to ask the Lord's blessing in as few words as possible. Since he'd been leading the meetings and delivering sermons, everyone appreciated that quality, especially since the seats in the meetinghouse were very hard.
"We are, after all, a simple, plain people, Benjamin," Zechariah said as he passed the potatoes, "so plain food suits us well. Plain food, hard work, and a healthy fear of the Lord, Benjamin, those are the staples of life, all any man needs to prosper in body and spirit. Of course," he grinned, "I would very much like to have a cold bottle of ale to chase this hearty fare."
"A good library too," Consort added. "‘Good books, good friends and a conscience clear, those are the best things we have here,’" she recited.
"Beer and books! Heaven help us, Connie, we're becoming virtual hedonists!"
Benjamin had always liked Zechariah, whose reputation as a leader of the community was one of fairness in all things moderated by a wry sense of humor. "Your cooking is justly famous, ma'am," he said.
He was a handsome lad, strapping, with coal-black hair. His bright blue eyes fastened on Comfort, and she found it difficult to concentrate on her food, which was all she wanted to concentrate on, handsome as Benjamin was. The two had known each other since childhood, and Comfort in her teens had thought it most likely that of all the boys her age—most dead by then—Benjamin or Spencer would someday be her husband. Now, having met a man of the world, she wondered how she could have been so naive.
"I think the crisis may be over, Benjamin," Zechariah said as he cut his meat. "Charles will lead an expedition to Haven soon, reestablish contact with the outside world. I think it's fair to assume the devils have been thwarted."
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