Drawing a deep breath and whispering a prayer of thankfulness for his parent’s loving sacrifice, the Reverend closed his eyes and opened the book at random. He walked his fingers all over the two pages until the little voice in his head told him to stop.
The first verse gave him joy. ‘Nevertheless I am continually with thee: thou hast holden me by my right hand.’ The second exalted the Reverend, ‘Even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me.’ What glad-heartedness it was to fathom that he was on God’s right hand and God owed him! Eagerly Peter Allway repeated the performance of selection one last time, wanting to be sure.
“And whatsoever ye shall ask in my name, that will I do, that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If ye shall ask any thing in my name, I will do it.” Tears streamed down his face as he realized the Fountain of Life verily spoke true; ‘the God of Israel grant thee thy petition that thou hast asked of him.’ What a glorious day woulds’t be soon when the Giver of Life fulfilled His Promise! Allway got to his feet, dusted off the ash and adjusted his clothes. Now to speak with his Council of Monitors of the answer he received when the alarm bell began to clang.
The only reason Sesha’s wagon was seen before it came out of the woods was because it was time for the Changing of the Guard. The two guards coming on duty to this tower marched from the Church, where they had been in prayer and meditation for an hour before starting their shift. Rifles perched on their left shoulders, arms swinging straight, legs lifted heartily and stamped down as women sang to their passing.
Sure I must fight if I would reign;
Increase my courage, Lord.
I’ll bear the toil, endure the pain
Supported by Thy Word.
Arriving at the tower, one called out “Brothers! In the name of God the Commander and his Son, our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, these Soldiers relieve thee of duty!”
The men in the tower replied, “Our time of Holy Work be at an end. ‘We have a strong city; salvation will God appoint for walls and bulwarks.’ ” Then they climbed down and stood on either side of the ladder.
In a ceremony worthy of the Queen of England’s Guards, the tower sentries would change off with much marching, salutes and ceremonies, including the recitation of Bible verses adjuring them to guard their houses.
“Tis a new shift, oh my Brother! Put thyself in ‘membrance of the words of the Great Defender!”
“’Tis as the Word says: ‘bind them continually upon thy heart.’ Our Commander adjures ‘Be not ye afraid of them: remember the Lord, which is great and terrible, and fight for your brethren, your sons, and your daughters, your wives, and your houses.’ ”
The two men taking over the shift were marching in from the right side; the tower guards were climbing down the ladders on opposite sides of the tower. As their feet hit the ground, the ending shift’s First North Tower guard began reciting.
“But know this, that if the goodman of the house had known in what watch the thief would come, he would…” he paused, startled, seeing movement on the trail and stopped in the middle of the verse to peer more closely.
“Finish, brother Matias,” the Second North Tower guard hissed, and quickly boomed out, “… have watched, and would not have suffered his house to be broken up.” and then he saw what his companion was staring at.
“Dost see?” Matias croaked, and his companion guard, Amos, nodded, then began shouting.
“Alarm! Alarm! There beist intrusion! Men to thy posts! Alarm! Alarm!” Taking their rifles, the four on the ground headed for the first position, twenty feet from where the game trail met the edge of the city and knelt, weapons primed and ready to fire if need be. More came running, rifles in their grasp as the clanging alarms continued until a strong group was in place. They formed a U and raised rifles, aiming at the small conveyance, waiting for what, they didn’t know, but if it was trouble, they would blast it out of existence! Just as the Most Holy Lord Reverend came running up, the horse staggered almost to the group and collapsed onto his front knees, then onto his side, finished.
“Careful, Chosen of the Lord,” boomed the Preacher, sending the men out slowly. “Philip, thou, James, Caleb and Gideon to the rear.” The horse was dragging in great gulps of air, its eyes rolling back, bloody foam coming out its mouth and nose. “Brother Andrew, pray put the animal out of misery.”
The man complied by putting the barrel of his rifle against the horse’s eye and pulling the trigger. It simply collapsed, too far gone to even grunt.
The group crept slowly around both sides of the enclosed wheeled device, guns thrust out in front of them. They pulled on loose boards trying to see through the sides, then one man carefully leaned around and looked in.
“Only branches from trees which God hath made fill the buggy, Reverend,” Philip said.
That gave the others courage and they shoved past him to see for themselves. Hands started pulling out the dried and brittle vegetation.
“Brother Philip, be that not a woman’s stocking?” asked Gideon as they removed more branches and the dirty, peach colored cloth appeared.
One of the men gripped the toe seam and pulled.
“There be a foot in it!” he yelped, dropping the bit and flailing over backwards. Philip reached in, grabbed it firmly higher up and pulled – bringing Sesha’s limp, bloody body along with the rest of the branches.
“’s a woman, Most Holy Lord Rev’rnd!” he yelped, dropping the foot and backing fast.
“My hest be thou move aside, brothers,” the leader ordered. He pushed his way to the back and with a couple of helpful shoves on his derriere, clambered into the small wagon.
“Ware, Most Holy Lord Reverend,” a man cried and grabbed the under edge of the wagon. “Brothers! Assist that the buggy not collapse!” Other men rushed over and helped hold while another group began cutting the harness off the dead horse.
Reverend Allway pushed the rest of the branches toward the edge and his soldiers obliged by throwing the stuff to the side. When the bottom of the contrivance was clear enough, he turned the petite body over.
“”Tis indeed one of the female persuasion,” he said, and leaned his ear close to her bluish lips. “And by the blessing of our Most High God, she breathes! Quickly, we must take her to the Infirmary!” The men helped him out, then two men climbed in and with care lifted her out and into the Reverend’s waiting arms.
Inside the camp was all uproar too. Several groups of men, all armed, were standing in various locations; their ‘base’ as assigned by the Most Holy Lord Reverend when they first started settling here. Young teenaged men were in motion, bringing more supplies for the armed men or running messages. Two such lanky individuals went flying from the group near the wagon to the Infirmary.
“Righteous Lady!” one bellowed as they slammed through the doors into a dim, cool, one story building.
The so-addressed woman hurried out from a sickroom, her finger over her lips for silence. “Jehosephat, there are ill children…”
“But M’Lady, the city be in garboil! There hath been an intrusion! A wagon has overcome our gates!”
At that announcement eyes widened and her mouth opened a bit. “What? Who?”
Before he could answer, another youth barreled through the door. “Righteous Lady! There be a person in the wagon! It be a woman, she be injured!”
That snapped her into action.
“Quickly, Jed… you and Peter seize the stretcher and follow me, Godspeed!” she snatched up her skirts, shoved back a lock of hair that had gotten loose from her bun and ran out the door, the boys right on her heels. They had to dash the entire length of the Central courtyard if they were to be of any help, so they moved fast.
Light as she was, the young woman was quite a load, almost too much for the overweight man but he stiffened his resolve – and his back – and proceeded back into the Central courtyard. Less than a quarter of the way across, his wife met him with two teens carrying a stretcher, so he “gave i
n” and laid the wounded woman on it after they spread the carrier on the ground.
“If it be your will, my lord,” the panting woman addressed the heavily heaving man, “This woman t’will see to the foreigner’s habitude?”
He was unable to answer for getting a breath, so he just waved. The woman went down on her knees and first felt for a pulse at the wrist.
“Tis weak… I be unsure,” she leaned over Sesha’s face and laid her cheek on the woman’s barely open lips. “She breathes,” she laid her fingers on the side of Sesha’s neck, moving them around until she found what she wanted. “’Tis a faint heartbeat, Praise be to God! She lives… my lord?” she looked at her husband and jerked her head towards a building just to the side of where they were.
“Yes,” the man panted, his breath still coming quickly. The shorter move was as much in consideration of him as the strange woman lying so pallid and silent on the stretcher.
Two hearty men picked up the ends and the whole population of The New City followed their mystery stranger not to the Infirmary, but to the Reverend’s house, which was much closer.
His wife opened the door for the young men and murmured “Upstairs, second room on the right. Lay the stretcher directly on the bed, prithee.” Then she followed after whispering in another young man’s ear. As she went in, he wended back through the gathering crowd, speaking to several women who hurried into the house as well.
“The wight be in the arms of The Great Physician and under His Guidance, the medicine women will care for her,” The Preacher-man held up his hands, his voice timbered for causing the emotion of hope for recovery. “Thou shalt all be Beadsmen, in continual prayer to our Healing Lord. Those who have chores are released to them but you must be in constant prayer during your work. Monitor Thaddeus, set the task of keel to men, after, set those skilled to tan the hide. Monitor Amos, set barns to remove the bavin where ‘tis assigned.”
“Yes, Most Holy Lord Reverend,” The crowd intoned as one, and many went down on their knees, hands clasped, faces turned towards the preacher, who raised his hands into the air and began his litany.
Inside, five women swirled about the bed. Working carefully, trying to find uninjured spots on the mystery woman’s lower legs and arms, they finally lifted just a bit while the fifth pulled the stretcher out and shoved a thickly woven blanket underneath.
“Prithee make haste, Righteous Lady,” one hissed, “for the stranger’s shoulder be misplaced.”
“We are alone now, Sarah. Drop the litany.” The Righteous Lady Beulah Allway cut her off. “Lay the child down.”
“There be a Monitor outside the door,” another whispered in her ear, and she nodded, switching back to the correct language.
“Grammarcy, Delia. We shalt soon be free.” Her wink made the woman nod with relief. “Be thou four working at undoing her clothing while,” Whipping open the door, she appeared a bit frenzied. “Quickly, Monitor Japheth… there be a large pot in the common kitchen. T’would be a most wondrous blessing if thou woulds’t please put water in it, light the fire and set it to boil. Upon that moment, woulds’t make us poor Sisters fain for thee to bring it.”
“She be with child?” the man asked sharply.
“I believeth not, lord. But she hath grievous injuries that The Great Physician sayeth in the book of Ezekiel, chapter 16, verse 9, ‘Then washed I thee with water; yea, I thoroughly washed away thy blood from thee, and I anointed thee with oil.’ If it be the Lord’s Will that she recover, we must do as He guides in her care, and the Word to my heart be to cleanse with hot water and herb potions. Thou art the only one with Proof, to lift the pot when it be full of water, most specially at great heat.” Beulah held her breath, keeping her face downward, hoping the little speech worked.
It did.
“If thou receivest that message, it must be from the Most High Teacher, Righteous Lady.” he conceded, and almost ran down the stairs and out of the Reverend’s little mansion. There was a pot that was large enough in their own little kitchen, but it was better to get that person completely out of the house!
Two of the women slid the stretcher out the door, grabbed Beulah and pulled her back in the room. Then they shut door and all heaved a quick sigh of great relief.
“There, he’s gone. Grace, please get her clothes off,” the woman named Beulah said, eyeballing her patient, then shook her head.
“Sarah, sit behind her when I sit the poor child up and support her. There… Bless me, there’s so much blood here. We’ll probably have to burn our clothes and wash very well. If we’re blessed, perhaps Allway nor the Monitors will think to make us unclean for this.”
“I do pray they don’t,” Sarah answered.
In Sesha’s mind, listening through her ears, Shni was concerned. They had learned much in the four days of spying but this was deeper, more dangerous! A religion where blood was considered foul instead of cherished made for more patients dying than living! He knew now this plan was far worse than previously thought and though he didn’t want to, Sesha had to be told.
The Ven construct knew where Sesha hid when unconscious; she’d been knocked out three times on shopping expeditions, 2 due to accident, 1 because the shop was being robbed when Sesha had walked in, unknowing. The being at the door just hit her head hard and after Sesh fell over, that one had started shooting. Jaxxim, seeing the mêlée, had slipped in and put down all four with a stunner. Sesha spent two days in a local hospital for that one and Shni had been the contact between her and the doctors. So to this quiet hidey-hole he went again.
The appearance was her body curled like a fetus, floating on a cloud, sleeping. Shni rubbed her shoulder, then pinged her jaw until tired eyes managed to open.
“We need to talk, Sesh. There’s a problem.”
“Um,” was all she could manage. The distress she’d been under since waking up to being knocked out had taken their toll. “Stay with me?”
Shni sighed. “All right… but I’m listening for you, you’ll remember when you wake up. The comp is working to fix your head; I’ll guide you carefully when you heal enough to start moving and talking. Just sleep, darling.”
The woman didn’t even grunt, just relaxed into Shni’s arms and went back out. The construct didn’t bother telling her that the computer had marked his file for serious investigation; the nerve impulse sent to the Living Being’s arm seemed to result in serious injury so the construct, being a Realistic, would be questioned about the reason he felt the impulse had to be sent. If judged wrongly, Shni could be wiped. Ah well… when this was all over they would either be dead or both wiped, living on a planet-bound world. He continued to listen and feel, though. There was nothing else he could do!
“Good, Sarah… I know her hair is filthy, but hold it aside… only two buttons to hold, oh, dear, no corset or undergarments.”
“Stop, Grace,” Sarah readjusted the body. “The cloth is stuck.”
Beulah turned to see. “Get the scissors, Deborah… they’re in my sewing room, the top drawer in the dresser. We’ll need to cut her clothes off.” The woman crossed to the window and opened it. “Prithee, Reverend, mayst Hannah be allowed to give succor?” When her husband waved at the woman and she moved to arrive, Beulah called “God bless and keep thee, Righteous Lord. Grammarcy!” and shut the window.
“Have a care of her head too,” Sarah added to the list they were giving each other. “She has a good-sized gash and bit of an indent just above her right ear. Her hair is caked with blood as well as dirt, droppings and leaves.”
Deborah arrived and handed over the scissors and Beulah snipped down the shoulders and around the sides as the requested woman hurried in.
“Hannah, help Sarah turn her completely over so I can cut below the bloody area. We’ll have to soak the material off her injuries. Deborah, sit on the other side and help hold her too.”
The scissors made quick work of the tatters of the dress. The five women lifted or turned as directed. They helped the preache
r’s wife lift the shredded dress pieces off her, then all together eased the limp body gently onto the bed so closer examine could be made.
“Beulah, how do you think she got here?”
“No one but God knows, Sarah. That is truth, not some nonsense my husband spouts.”
“Look at her skin, Beulah! She’s almost blue!” Hannah and Delia were holding up her arms, while Sarah and Deborah moved around, helping as asked. “And her hair is so white it gleams like silver. It is so long, and silky-fine!” Propping Sesha’s head against Sarah, Deborah pulled back the tangled locks and braided the hair, binding the end with a piece of leather strip. “It truly is filthy… maybe we can wash it later, if she continues to… live.”
“She must have been beaten terribly,” Beulah surmised. “And she’s cold -- I’ve never felt anyone so chilled.” She ran fingers over the poor girl’s head. “Besides the scrapes and swelling on the side of her face, there’s a bloody gash and indentation here like you said.”
“Her shoulder is not where it belongs,” Grace put in.
Beulah shot a fast smile at the woman a few years older than she was. “We’ll fix that in a moment. Her arms are covered with cuts, especially here at her bracelet. Hannah, make careful attempts to remove it, thank you.” The women switched positions and the exam went on.
“Her wrists… she was in shackles, and this looks like a stab wound… it’s pretty deep. I feel something hard against the bone. We’ll have to cut it out later. Deborah, tear some more bandages please, we’ll pad it for now. Her back – turn her, Sarah, if you’re done with the jewelry, Hannah.”
“We’ll leave her bracelet on for now. I cannot figure out the clasp, which is probably why whoever the brigands were tried to cut it off without success.” Hannah took some bandages and wrapped the ornately worked large bracelet and cuts that were bleeding again from her tender presses. None there knew this was futuristic, wonderful technology using microscopic tubules to fasten it into her arm, nervous system and Brain. The Wrist-Gem would not budge until its unit died, then it would revert to the plain black band. No God would help anyone holding it then, for the Self-Destruct program would flash to a heat so great that it – and the holder – would dissolve into ash in an instant. “There, done. Turn the lass.”
Weathering Storms Page 9
