A Memoir of Mercy

By Jessiqua Wittman

Mercy is a girl who thinks that she's a good girl, but really she's not.
Then she thinks that she's a bad girl, but really she's not.
Gradually she discovers who she really is, and the answer shocks everybody, especially her parents...

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Nov 25, 2013
• ISBN: 9781483513942

Book preview

respond…

Prologue: 2168 C.E.

Have you ever lived in a cave before?

Of course not… only crazy people do that.

Well… and people from crazy families, like mine.

Don’t get me wrong, we didn’t want to be driven from our homes, and have to live in creepy Damascene monk catacombs for who-knows-how-long.

But, sometimes bad things happen to good people. And my family was very, very good. Too good almost, if there is such a thing.

Or at least… we were until we had to run and hide in those awful caves. Then we all found out how very bad we could be.

Especially me…

What did I do that was so bad?

I have to explain that the long way, or else you won’t believe me.

Oh! And yeah… my name is Mercy, and this is my story.

Part One: The Way It All Started

Chapter 1

The day I’ve chosen to open up this narrative with, began like any other day.

As soon as I woke up that morning, I immediately sat up and threw the tangled blankets off myself so that I could swing my legs out of the bed.

My younger, twenty-three year old sister, Promise, was seated in front of the vanity in her nightgown. She was slender and pretty. Her dark brown eyes were half-closed as she brushed her fingers through her long, copper-red curls and commented, I don’t understand you sometimes, Mercy. There’s nothing planned for today, yet you’re still bouncing out of bed like you can’t wait to go do something.

What’s the use of lying around when there’s a whole world turning outside? I asked as I jammed my feet into my slippers. Besides, now’s my chance to jump into the shower before you!

The look she shot my way was reproving, but I just grinned and scooped some clothes out of my dresser before leaving our room, shutting the door behind me.

Mercy’s awake! My brother, Justice, loudly informed the household from downstairs at the same time as Promise scolded from inside our room, "For heaven’s sake, Mercy! Do you always have to slam the door?!"

Sorry! I called back to her before scurrying over to the bathroom door and knocking on it.

Just a second! My other brother’s voice came from inside in a muffled way that told me he must be brushing his teeth. I hopped from foot to foot to stay warm and hoped he had turned on the cell-powered heater in there. Spring was supposed to be turning into summer soon, but it seemed to have delayed itself a bit. The mornings were still frost-bittenly chilly.

As expected, Emmet soon opened the door and came out with a grin on his face. He was twenty years old, tall and wiry built, and had sparkling, dark eyes and black, curly hair. A few years back, he had lost his right hand in an accident, and since then had worn a reinforced hook that attached over his right arm stub.

"Are you trying to get your shower in before Promise this time?" he asked me.

"Yup. She claims that she has no idea why I complain about how long she takes! I’m just, ‘impatient.’"

Well, that I don’t entirely disagree with her on. Emmet teased.

Hey now! Whose side are you on?! I laughed before slipping into the bathroom and shutting the door. Both Mom and Dad’s reproving voices came from their room beside the bathroom. Mercy! It’s still early!

Sorry! I called again as I winced and purposed in my heart for the millionth time to never slam another door.

I couldn’t stay remorseful though. In fact, I had to smile as I looked at myself in the mirror. My curly red hair usually brushed my shoulders, but I must have flopped around a lot in my sleep the night before because that morning my curls were frizzing out in every direction possible.

No wonder you’re twenty-four and not married! I giggled to myself. "Who wants to wake up to that in the morning?!"

Emmet had turned on the bathroom heater, so my breath didn’t make wispy clouds in front of my mouth like it had in the hall. I leaned forward and looked over the rest of my face as my hands tried to tame my hair.

Huge, brown eyes (usually wide open with some exclamation or another), red lips, slightly crooked teeth, abundant freckles. I had an athletic body type, a skinny waist, and gangly, long legs. My sister called me a tomboy a lot, but I disagreed. I loved being a girl with everything in me. It was becoming a woman that I was scared to death of.

I quickly showered and redressed. Both Justice and Emmet were down in the kitchen when I made my way down there.

Justice was the youngest of the family. He was sixteen years old, brown haired, brown eyed, stocky and extremely inquisitive. It wasn’t unusual for him and Emmet to fuss over this or that, but today Emmet looked ready to thump Justice over the head with the frying pan in his hand as he informed him, "Well, if you’re sooo hungry, then why don’t you help me instead of coming and asking how much longer it’ll be every five minutes?!"

How can I help? Justice asked.

Have you gathered the chicken eggs yet?

No.

Why not?

Because I got distracted and didn’t think of it until you just said that.

Then how about you go gather eggs while I cut the potatoes, deal?

Justice nodded and headed out the back door.

What do you think distracted him? I asked from the kitchen doorway.

Who knows? Emmet sighed as he pulled a knife out of one of the kitchen drawers and looked for a cutting board. "Some days I wonder if he’ll ever grow up."

I smiled and started pulling dishes out of the cupboard.

Mom and Dad came down the stairs when breakfast was ready. They were slender and curly headed. Mom had long, red hair and gentle, brown eyes. Dad had unruly black hair and flashing, dark eyes.

It must be Emmet’s day to cook, Dad commented as they joined us in the kitchen. I smell eggs frying. You better hope you get a wife that likes eggs, son.

"Actually I’m hoping to find a wife that likes to cook." Emmet admitted as he grimaced and put the plate of rubbery looking eggs on the table.

You’re never going to learn if you don’t stretch yourself, sweetheart. Mom reminded him while sitting down at her place at the table. That’s why we’re all taking turns, remember? It’s just one day a week, how about you try something a little more creative for lunch?

I already tried to get a little more creative. Emmet mumbled At least there are potatoes as a side dish this time.

Although the way they’re swimming in butter tells me that Mercy did that bit of work for you. Dad remarked as he watched the golden liquid drain out through the slotted spoon’s holes before putting some potatoes on his plate.

Emmet and I glanced at each other. Our father always noticed everything!

Promise made a face, then picked a piece of shell out of her mouth while commenting, I still find it amazing how he thinks that digging a recipe out of a cookbook is too much work for the morning, but yet he’s perfectly fine with cracking a dozen eggs with one hand.

Actually I cracked half of the eggs for him. Since his hook makes such a mess out of it. Justice declared in a totally oblivious tone as he shoveled as much food as possible into his mouth.

Mom cocked her head as she asked, "So what exactly did you do for this breakfast, Emmet?"

I cut the potatoes and I fried the eggs. The others asked if they could help, I didn’t draft or bribe them, he quickly informed her.

Mom looked at Dad. Dad sighed before pronouncing his verdict, "Having help is fine, son. Just no more eggs, please. We’ve been having eggs for breakfast, lunch, and sometimes supper every Wednesday for two months."

I know, I know… I was hoping Mom would get sick of the experiment instead of dragging it out like this, Emmet admitted.

I’m not quitting until you learn to cook, Mom told him. "This is mainly for you."

He put his chin in his hand and watched the light glinting off his hook in a mopey fashion for a couple minutes, then he suddenly brightened with an idea.

I know what we can have for supper! French Toast!

The words were hardly out of his mouth before he had to dodge five fried eggs flying in his direction.

After breakfast and cleanup, (which was extensive,) I went upstairs to my room while Mom tried to show Emmet how to make a different sort of lunch than egg salad sandwiches. Promise was playing something pretty on the piano downstairs as I sat down on our window seat and looked outside.

Today felt special, I didn’t know why, it just did. I wondered if maybe things were going better over in Hebron then they had been lately. Our capital city was so consumed with bickering…

Wait… maybe I should explain from the beginning.

The country I live in is a place called Marna. It’s located in the Damascus region of the Asian continent, and is currently the best developed settler colony we know of in this part of the planet. About a hundred years ago, two Great Wars exterminated most of the world’s population and nullified most technical equipment. The survivors had to start mostly from scratch again, and organized themselves into settler colonies instead of rebuilding their former nations. Electricity is an idea of the distant past, the only non-manual power we have is from slowly regenerating power cells. Dad and Grandpa’s generation didn’t even have much of those really, but since Great Uncle Hazael was crowned king almost a quarter of a century ago, a lot has changed. Marna has had peace, crime has gone down, style of living has gone up, and both imports and exports with our neighbor colonies have dramatically increased. You’d think that with all this good happening nobody would have anything bad to say about Uncle Hazael. But no… there’s a lot of little things that everyone disagrees on, but even worse, there’s one big thing, Charn.

Marna was supposed to merge with its nearest neighbor colony back when Uncle Hazael married the Charner’s favorite noblewoman-in-hiding, Lady Maia. But things never went entirely as planned. There was a lot of bad blood between the two societies from former feuds before the coronation, and the mingling of Hazael and Maia’s lines didn’t heal the matter as much as they had hoped. For several years, there was a huge push to unite and there were many immigrants on both sides, but lately things have turned especially sour. There’s even talk of the dual kingdom splitting into two again, permanently.

This is bad news for any Charner immigrants, any half-Marnian, half-Charner families, or any families with ties to Uncle Hazael’s political party.

Uncle Hazael has made it very clear that he’s not going to bow to the demands of the other political affiliations around him. He’s determined to keep his Charner wife and children, along with every other Charner immigrant that prefers the Marnian way of life. However, his enemies seem equally determined to push him out of office and eradicate the mixture.

The confusing part of it all, is that Uncle Hazael’s most influential foes are those of his own family line, the Hadadians.

The Hadadians were the original inhabitants of Damascus. They know what it’s like to be oppressed and eradicated in their own homeland; the refugees from the Great Wars did it to them almost a century ago when they established Marna! But yet the Hadadians declare that this is different, that this race war is different than that one, that this one has better premises, that the Charners are dangerous because most of them are bigger and stronger than ordinary people.

It’s ridiculous and hypocritical. I don’t even try to understand it. We just pray for Uncle Hazael. He’s been under a ton of stress. His children can’t freely walk the streets like they used to, much less his obviously Charner wife. Public dissatisfaction with his unity policies is too high. It’s becoming dangerous out there.

I thought all of this as I sat at the window seat, then I shook my head and sighed. It all seemed so distant from us, I felt almost guilty for being plain, uncontroversial Marnian myself. My dear cousins had so much turmoil swirling around them, and our home was so contrastingly peaceful.

I had to smile as I thought of Uncle Hazael and Aunt Maia’s four royal children. Especially that headstrong eldest of them… Naphtali.

It was too bad he was so busy all the time. I barely saw him, even when we went to visit Uncle Hazy and Aunt Maia. He was polite and kind when I spoke to him, but we hardly ever were able to sit and talk like we used to when we were teenagers.

Oh well… someday it would work out. I knew it would. Something deep inside had always told me that my last name would stay BenHadad my whole life. That meant that either I would marry Naphtali, or stay single forever. And I wasn’t aiming on staying single, that was for sure…

I only allowed myself to daydream a little before shaking it all away from me and trying to think of something else to do.

Soon it was lunchtime. While we were sitting and eating, Mom perked up as if she had just remembered something.

Jared came by while you were at Mr. Sanders’ yesterday. she told Dad He said his horse is still sick and hasn’t touched her food.

If he would have given her that tincture I made him, then she would be fine… Dad muttered.

There was a small silence, then he asked, Was he just complaining, or does he want me to come by?

He would like for you to come by this evening. He’s working now.

Is he going to pay me this time?

Mom hesitated before admitting, I didn’t ask him.

Dad looked over at Emmet and Justice with a sigh.

Boys… a word of advice: Don’t become a veterinarian. They don’t ask you for help until their animal is practically dead already, then they don’t stick to the treatment you prescribe, then they think that since you ‘didn’t save the poor critter’ then you don’t deserve payment.

This wasn’t the first time we had all heard that lecture, and I was sure it wouldn’t be the last. Dad enjoyed his work in and of itself. It was just the business part that he didn’t enjoy so much.

Are you going to help him? Mom asked after the boys dutifully nodded.

Of course… Dad mumbled as he picked at his food. But I won’t go through the trouble of making him another tincture until he pays me for that last one.

Mom smiled and squeezed his shoulder.

While we were cleaning up after lunch, I was just about to suggest to Promise that we ought to tackle the mess in the attic we had been working on over the last week when Emmet came out of the kitchen and said, Mom asked me to make a quick trip into town. Do you two want to go with me?

Promise was quiet and thought about it a little bit, but I immediately nodded and replied, Oh yes! I’ll come!

Will we have time to go by the post-office? Promise asked.

I think so, Emmet shrugged.

What about Grandpa’s?

He hesitated before answering a little slower, Maybe… no promises though.

I’ll come, she decided. Just let me go get my shawl.

If she stops to fix her hair, I’m leaving without her, Emmet muttered as he watched our sister scurry up the stairs with a hopeful look on her face.

I knew he wouldn’t abandon her like that, and sighed as I wished that Naphtali lived as close as Promise’s special other did.

Apparently Promise noticed a couple curls out of place on her head; it took a while before we were finally able to leave the house with shopping list in hand. However, it was a blustery day, and I noticed, with an impish sense of glee, that my sister’s hair was just as windblown as my own by the time we finished the five and a half mile wagon ride to Fletcher.

Fletcher was a medium sized farming town with a railroad station embedded into the outskirts of it. Mom and Dad let us go there on errands so that we could get a chance to be independent. I hopped off the wagon as soon as Emmet pulled the horses up to a hitching post and just breathed in the sights.

Several little storefronts lined the main street we were on, mainly farming supply stores and knick-knack shops. The scent of chicken fried steak wafting out of the local diner was tantalizing my senses. I could hardly keep from drooling as I closed my eyes and imagined sinking my teeth into one.

Right about that moment, someone goosed me good.

Ahh! I squealed as I flipped around to face my attacker. Both his easy grin and skin covered with randomly placed gray splotches identified him. As soon as I could gather my wits, I started beating my seventeen-year-old uncle Ben while exclaiming, How do you do that?! It’s sooo not fair!

The stocky, dishwater-blond boy easily defended himself while teasing, If you weren’t such a gullible goose then it wouldn’t be so tempting! You know I’m going to do it, but yet you jump every time!

Oh hush! I smacked his shoulder before looking around him.

As I expected, his older brother, Baruch, was here as well. He was reaching his gentle hands up to help Promise down from the wagon. Grandma was poisoned when she was pregnant with him, and although he was mildly retarded in his mental capacities, most people couldn’t tell unless they had spoken with or watched him closely. Both very good looking and quiet, even almost sage-like at times, Baruch’s dark eyes matched his dark brown hair, and the intense scarring that marred part of the upper side of his face only added more depth to his character.

Close beside Baruch was Grandpa himself, Thomas BenHadad. Outside of my immediate family, my grandpa was the dearest person in the world to me. He was about the same height as Dad, but stockier, and slightly bent over with a back problem he had had for many, many years. He carried himself like a man though, even with the constant pain. The tapping of his thick cane only added to the dignified air about him. This was something greatly needed since he was still in charge of most of Uncle Hazael’s diplomatic and military affairs. With salt and pepper hair that never seemed quite tamed, sharp, dark eyes that saw everything, and a wry grin that showed up in the strangest of situations, it was hard to believe he was actually in his sixties now.

What are you guys doing here?! Promise exclaimed with a happy smile as soon as her feet touched the ground beside the wagon.

I burned lunch again… so we came to eat, Baruch replied as he methodically sorted through and smoothed her windblown curls.

Did you forget to use the timer I gave you? Promise asked.

Some things don’t go exactly by the book, Grandpa said as he patted Baruch’s shoulder including fried chicken. It was a good lesson though.

Dad said… that I can’t leave things on the stove the same way I can leave them in the oven, Baruch explained with a cheerfully mournful expression. But since we both suck at cooking… he can’t show me how to do it better.

So I’m probably going to be taking it all over again, Ben sighed into the conversation. At least then the kitchen won’t look like a tornado hit it every morning.

You guys really need a lady over there to help you, Promise giggled with a poke into Baruch’s side.

Maybe when… Ben grows up and gets married his wife won’t mind living with us, Baruch agreed.

You’re twenty-four. You’re grown up, she hinted.

I’m also not normal. I wouldn’t want… to cheat a normal girl like that.

Promise frowned, but didn’t continue the conversation.

So did you tag along to check for a letter from Cocoa? Grandpa asked her, to change the subject.

"And to help Emmet and Mercy with the groceries, Promise answered. Do you guys have any plans? Or would you like to tag along with us?"

I don’t think we have any more plans for the rest of the afternoon, Grandpa smiled before looking at Emmet and asking, Are you in a hurry?

Not really. I’m hoping Mom will make supper if I dally long enough, Emmet admitted.

Still trying to dodge out of expanding your cooking creativity, eh?

And so we wandered along through Fletcher’s open air market.

Grandpa, I said as I watched Baruch and Promise stroll along, arm in arm I’m thinking about starting a diary. But I can’t come up with anything to put in it. Life is so boring.

The tapping of his cane was the only sound as he thought about that. Then he asked, What do you think would make your story more exciting?

I don’t know. Romance… an adventure… some kind of drama.

If you had any of those things you would be too frettingly busy to write, he smiled.

I smiled back before stating, Even still… I don’t know what to write.

Are you happy?

Of course.

Then write about what makes you happy.

But that won’t be interesting to anybody else, will it?

Again, the tapping of his cane was the only sound, this time for a long couple minutes. Finally, he asked, Who would you write that diary for, Mercy?

His question made me think.

For… myself… I guess.

Then does it really matter what anyone else thinks about it?

But what if it’s silly?

Then it’s silly. Never be ashamed of who you are, Mercy. God made you that way for a reason. You have to learn to be comfortable in your own skin before you can be content.

I was quiet a long moment before asking, Are you talking about what I was saying about my boring life earlier, too?

Yes…. You won’t be content even while surrounded by excitement if you’re not at peace with the way God made you.

I’m happy with the way God made me.

You’re happy with the life He’s given you?

Yes.

Then why do you want it to be more exciting?

Because I’m bored!

You mean you’re restless?

I huffed. You’re trapping me on purpose!

He smiled and ruffled my curls with a wrinkled hand. "Mercy, everyone would have to struggle to remain content with the state they’re in, except that most people never even try. Instead they choose to drift and bounce along from drama to drama. Granted, I’ve lived like that before, too. But getting old teaches you a lot. Including how to appreciate the seasons young people think are boring."

You’re anything but old, Grandpa, I informed him.

Even so, I went through a lot for you to have the life you have now. Enjoy it while you’ve got it. You might be getting your excitement soon enough.

His smile had turned more serious and he looked away as he said it.

Do you really think things are getting that bad? I quietly asked.

We’ll be finding out soon enough, he just as quietly replied, with a toss of his head over to the right of us.

Three rough looking men were invading the space of a mixed couple nearby. The husband of the couple was a Marnian man, but the wife was obviously a Charner. Her pale complexion was almost white as she cowered close to her husband. The symbol of her heritage, her long blonde braid, was tucked between her child on her hip and herself.

Do it! the meanest looking scoundrel of the bunch demanded as he shoved on the husband’s shoulder, Do it or we’ll do it for you!

Emmet immediately started in that direction, but Grandpa when quickly held out his cane to bar his way.

Why don’t you let us help them?! Emmet hissed in surprise.

Lots of reasons, one being that I’m not the man I used to be, Grandpa replied. Do you think that you three boys could fight and overcome three grown bad men?

With the other man’s help we might! Ben declared.

Then what would happen?

Then they’d leave them alone!

But it would just be a temporary solution. You might overcome this small group of ruffians, but they would just regroup and attack later with a vengeance when we’re not here to help.

We can’t just stand here though! Emmet insisted.

You’re right, we can’t. But what am I spending most of every day doing? Grandpa asked in a point making sort of way.

Paperwork, Baruch very quietly said.

Right. Paperwork that will do far more damage than our knives and fists. Don’t show me up, boys. I’m in hiding. We can’t let the public know who we are or else we won’t be able to do the greater damage. Look at it that way. The kingdom’s not worth a braid.

It made us feel terrible, but we could see the logic in his words. The woman’s tears haunted me as she looked up at her husband, then turned her head and closed her eyes as he yielded to the bullies and carefully cut her long, blonde braid with his knife.

Chapter 2

On the way back home, Promise heaved a deep, melancholy sigh.

I wish Baruch would come to his senses and catch my hints.

Remember what Grandpa advised you abou saying something outright? I reminded her. Even Mom and Dad think you should do that.

I’m getting blunter about it!

You’re still hinting.

But the alternative is so… unromantic! What am I supposed to say, ‘Baruch, I really want you to marry me?!’ That sounds perfectly… horrid!

At least it would get the job done, I started to say before Emmet interrupted, You shouldn’t lecture her, Mercy. Your crush is just as clueless as Baruch!

But Naphtali isn’t simple minded!

Just the same. And you don’t even hint around. You hardly even talk to him! All you do is act starry-eyed and stutter.

He’s hardly around for me to talk to! I defended. And I don’t stutter!

Whatever, Ms. Denial… We won’t mention your last birthday part-

Hey now! If we want to bring up histories we can, Mr. Can’t-say-anything-except-hi.

That was four years ago! And I couldn’t remember her name to save my life!

So you couldn’t say anything else? Promise asked in a reproving tone, You could have just avoided calling her by name, you know!

It’s hard to think of things like that when the prettiest girl in the world is standing in front of you, he informed her.

"She wasn’t that pretty."

Maybe not to you… he muttered with a mopey sounding sigh. Ben told me that she got married a couple weeks ago.

Who got married? I asked.

Stephanie.

Ooo! You remembered it this time! Promise giggled.

He rolled his eyes before muttering just above his breath, Sisters…

After about a mile or so, the conversation continued.

Do you two… ever wonder? Emmet asked us.

Do we ever wonder what? Promise asked back.

Do you ever wonder if the choices you’ve made are the ones you’re meant to make?

What do you mean?

Like… you’ve chosen Baruch, Promise. You seem completely sure that he’s the one for you. And it’s no secret that you’ve been stuck on Naphtali forever, Mercy.

So what exactly are you asking? I queried, for clarification’s sake.

Emmet hesitated a long moment before plainly asking, How do you know that the guys you picked, are the guys you’re meant to be with?

Oh… well…

Promise and I looked at each other a long moment before Promise answered, In my case… I’ve put a lot of prayer into it. And I can see how Heaven seems to have lined a lot of little things up. Mom, Dad, and Grandpa all agree that it just… feels right. You know that.

What about you, Mercy? he asked.

Naphtali and I seem to work really good together, I said. Naphtali’s so serious, and I lighten him up. We’re really compatible in a lot of different areas.

Yeah… compatible… you’re one of the only people who can stand to be around him… Emmet muttered.

I shot him reproving look as I scolded, "Just because you don’t like him, doesn’t mean that everybody doesn’t like him. He can be really nice."

When you do everything he tells you to, maybe.

I don’t do everything he tells me to!

Now Emmet was the one that shot me a reproving look. Seriously, Mercy. When - in the last five years - have you ever disagreed with Naphtali to his face?

I thought hard a couple seconds before stating, I’ve told him plenty of times that he should be gentler in the way he expresses his opinions.

That’s not disagreeing with him, Mercy.

Well, I don’t see anything wrong with just doing what he asks me to do! I mean, really, would it kill you to just admit that you don’t like him and your view of him is biased?

Emmet huffed before returning to our first subject. Anyway… so you don’t really know if he’s the one Heaven made for you?

I shrugged. Who else could it be? I mean, I like him. We work good together. He’s not interested in anyone else. No one else is interested in me. I’ve known since I was a very little girl that I’d be a BenHadad my whole life.

You could be an old maid, Emmet suggested.

Or you could marry Alexandre! Promise giggled.

Just the thought of marrying Naphtali’s stubborn, loud, and constantly teasing younger brother made me sputter.

Alexandre?! What?! He’s younger than me!

So? Emmet grinned.

And he’s annoying!

So?

And he’s infatuated with Celeste! He’s even kissed her!

Oh, that was scandalous! Right in front of everybody, too! Promise giggled. Cocoa told me that Celeste’s face looked like a beet she was blushing so hot! They’ll be married within the year! I just know it!

So there! I told Emmet. And no, Ben won’t work either! We’d kill each other before leaving the wedding hall! And Tommy’s married already! No… Naphtali’s the one for me. Unless some mysterious knight in shining armor shows up and sweeps me off my feet, that is. I guess I wouldn’t mind that.

As long as he doesn’t dump you on your head immediately afterwards! Promise retorted. Remember what happened to Belle? She got really stuck on that one guy, then after they’d gotten all friendly and lovey dovey and were actually talking about serious things, then he got that crush on that other girl and left Belle heartbroken! Now she swears she’ll never marry!

Aw… she will. Just wait for the right guy to come along, Emmet said.

But she doesn’t even have a first kiss to give him! She gave it away already!

There’s more to life than first kisses and romance, Promise.

You’re just saying that because you’re a boy, I piped into the conversation. Promise is right. Belle knew better than to get attached so quick. Especially considering where she came from.

Just because her mom made some mistakes before getting married doesn’t mean Belle is bad, Emmet defended.

We’re not saying that, Promise assured him. We’re just saying that she should learn from those that went before her, like we have. Mom and Dad have taught us stuff so that way we wouldn’t make the same mistakes they did and accumulate the same baggage that other kids our age usually have.

Yeah, I agreed. Belle’s a great girl. But now she’s tainted by an experience she shouldn’t have had.

How do you know she shouldn’t have had it? Emmet asked. Maybe God wanted-

Why would God want her to give her heart to somebody and have it broken?! Promise demanded. That’s awful, Emmet!

I don’t know why, okay?! he defended. I’m just… I guess I’ve just been thinking about a lot of stuff lately. I don’t know why this is bothering me like it is…

She just should have been more careful, Promise reiterated. That’s all there is to it. If she would have waited on God then she wouldn’t have got hurt, end of story.

Emmet huffed, but didn’t know what to reply to her. After all… hurt was bad. Hurt was very bad. Hurt couldn’t be in the will of God, could it?

Thankfully, this was the year that all of us would learn that pain is oftentimes Heaven’s most effective teacher. i

We safely made it home. Our evening meal came and went.

Then Dad went to check on Mr. Jared’s horse. While he was gone, the boys spent time with our own livestock, and Mom, Promise and I worked on a sewing project in the dining room.

After about an hour, Mom shivered as if she had a chill go up her.

Could you go see if your father left the door open? she asked me. I feel a draft.

I nodded and was happy for a chance to stretch my legs. The front room looked undisturbed. The door was closed, though unlocked.

I locked the door, then, glanced out the curtain. Something felt funny. I couldn’t put my finger on what was strange about it though.

On the way into the dining room, I glanced out a window to the back. The boys were sitting on the porch with our milk goat’s new babies. It looked like Dad must have recently come home; he was just sitting down in a chair beside them.

I wished I could go out there. The goat kids were so cute! Sewing wasn’t much fun to me. It was just a skill my parents said I needed to learn.

As I went back into the dining room, I decided I would ask for a break. Mom would understand. She liked new babies, too.

Mom wasn’t in the dining room when I stepped back into it though. Neither was Promise. Their work had been abandoned. I almost stepped on a pair of scissors that had been dropped on the floor.

Something squeezed my heart in my chest. I felt shaky as I looked around, then quietly called, Mom? Promise?

No one answered.

I nervously took a step forward, then another. Why was I so spooked? I had just seen Dad and the boys laughing together outside! Surely nothing bad could have happened in those three minutes since I went to check on the door!

I tried to talk myself back to normalcy. It was silly to be scared. Mom and my sister had gone to get more fabric from the den. The door being unlocked was just a freak coincidence.

I forced myself to start briskly walking towards the den.

Mom? Promise? I called as I opened the den’s door and started to walk inside.

A hand suddenly wrapped around my mouth. I was jerked into the den, away from the door, so that it could close again.

In front of me were my mom and sister. They were gagged and bound and being held hostage by three uniformed men I had never seen before. The fourth man who had grabbed me was now, despite my struggling, binding my hands and gagging me.

A very overweight captain was sitting behind the den’s desk, looking us over.

Now all we have to do is wait for your men, and we should be off, he announced in a smug tone.

Who are you?! I tried to demand before realizing that my gag made my words completely unintelligible.

The entire squad quietly laughed at me.

Both of your girls are as beautiful as you, Mrs. BenHadad, the leader stated to Mom in a condescending tone. You must be proud.

Mom was shaking with emotion as she avoided his eyes. I knew she had to be scared, but at the moment she seemed more angry than anything.

Suddenly, I realized that I must have come in on the middle of something. Promise’s eyes were wet with tears as she tried to keep her body as far away from her captor as possible. The creepy looking man wrestled her back against him even as he addressed his leader, Do you think we have time for a recess before we go, sir?

I’m sure- the captain started to say before Mom started struggling and making a ruckus from behind her gag.

No! No! was all that could be understood.

What’s the matter, missus? the captain taunted. Are you jealous?

Tears began to burst out of my own eyes as I watched the man with Promise grin like a devil. He slowly brushed his hand down her back before suggestively squeezing her hind end with it.

Mom looked ready to kill somebody. She suddenly bent her body and elbowed her captor in the groin, then she dove for the desk while yanking down her gag.

Wait! she pleaded with the captain. Please wait! I’m willing to bargain with you! I have something that my daughters don’t have!

She had the attention of everyone in the room.

"And here we were thinking they had something you don’t have! the captain mockingly replied. What do you have that you consider to be so precious, hm?"

Experience! she hissed.

Oh! Experience?! the man laughed. Most women have some sort of experience, my dear.

I have the sort of experience that can only be given willingly! And you will only get to see it if you swear that my daughters won’t be touched. Release my bonds and I’ll show you! I’ll show you!

You really expect me to release-

I’m no threat to you! And I can’t do it with my hands bound!

The captain huffed, but his curiosity was stronger than his suspicions, so he drew his knife and sliced her outstretched bindings with it. She immediately whipped around so that her back was facing him, pulled her long hair over her shoulder, and tied her shirt up around her ribcage.

For only a moment, she paused, then she started pulling down the top of her skirt bit by bit while seductively swinging her hips. As soon as the tramp stamp tattooed on her lower back was completely exposed, she jerked her skirt back up and flipped around to face the captain again.

I know several routines, she told him. My only charge is that my daughters’ virginity be kept intact. If you swear to me you’ll keep your end of the bargain, I swear to you I’ll keep mine.

The captain looked more than intrigued, he looked convinced. The man with Promise wasn’t so sure though.

Eye candy isn’t enough for me!

I can give you whatever you want! Mom insisted before the captain could reply. I can give you the most satisfying experience you’ve ever had! I can do anything! Things these girls have never even dreamed of! Give me a chance!

The door opened as she was saying this. My father and brothers were pushed into the room, already bound and gagged. Our faces fell as we looked at them. Now there was no hope. No one would save us.

Ah! Very good! the captain said as he looked at the three men following the male members of our family in. What do you think, boys? This fine lady insists that she can please all of us better than her daughters. What do you think?

Dad had an opinion.

No, Clare, no! he frantically shook his head and pleaded through his gag.

That’s ridiculous! one of the men scoffed. She’s got to be in her forties!

Virgins trump all, another one agreed as he looked at me in a way that made my skin feel like there were centipedes crawling under it.

Mom leaned on the desk and caught the leader’s attention again before the last man spoke.

Let me at least show you my skills, captain, she insisted. "Then you can make your decision. Just call them off for now and let them see what I can do. I would do anything any of you wanted, beginning with the highest rank of course."

She looked sly as she finished her proposition and stroked the ugly captain’s cheek with her finger. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I had never seen this side of my beloved mother! She was completely intent on sacrificing herself for us! In the worst possible way!

Boys… it sounds like we have us a strip girl, the captain said.

What?! the other men sputtered.

Both Dad and my brothers objected as they struggled. Their hands were bound, but Dad elbowed backward into his captor’s gut and threw his head immediately afterwards. This cracked his captor’s chin a good one. He fell, holding his face. Two troops retaliated in his place. The fight was short, the soldiers ended up pinning Dad to the floor. Mom watched with a terribly pained expression, as if she was holding back tears.

Then the captain cleared his throat. Mom quickly glanced at him, then her whole body shook as she looked back at Dad with his face in the floor.

Misery covered the room so completely it was stifling.

Then something seemed to click inside of Mom. Her body was still trembling, but her expression morphed into a grimly determined one.

She turned back to the captain with a sly, fake smile, then leaned down and kissed him and promised that he wouldn’t regret his decision. The fat man looked drunk with pleasure as Mom stepped back and told my brothers, Keep your eyes closed, boys.

Both Promise and I wept in shame and wished we’d never been born as our captors pushed us over to kneel beside the rest of our family.

I never want children. I couldn’t help but think. Never! If they do this to you… make you willing to undergo hell just for a chance at their safety.

I didn’t understand what Mom was doing, and even more so don’t want to describe it. I kept my eyes tightly closed. It was awful to know she was selling herself for my sake. I wished I could curl up and die.

Suddenly, I heard a familiar hissing whisper.

Don’t squeal, girls! I’m not here! Turn your heads slowly.

Promise and I whipped our heads around to look where the whisper had come from, and barely suppressed excited squeals. It was our teenage uncle, Ben. Baruch was beside him, quietly cutting Emmet and Justice’s bonds.

Our captors were so ogle-eyed watching Mom strip tease, they didn’t notice we were being freed until my grandfather flipped out a knife and grabbed the captain by the hair. The gleaming edge was tight against the man’s throat as Grandpa said, This party’s over. Your other group failed, too. Now are you going to be defiant like they were, or are you going to convince me to spare your miserable life?

The captain fearfully glanced at his men that had suddenly become the captives of my murderous looking relatives.

I yield!

It’ll take more than that! Grandpa informed him with a dangerous poke. I need information!

What kind of information?! the captain gasped.

Why you’re here would be a great place to start. Grandpa said before glancing at Mom. You can put your clothes back on, sweetheart. The situation is under control.

Mom had been standing frozen in shock, but now she sobbed really hard in relief before snatching her outer clothing off the floor and slipping them back on as quickly as she could. Oh thank you, God! Thank you! Thank you!

Grandpa turned back to the captain with an impatient expression. Well?!

The Royal Hadadians sent us! the man sputtered.

Surprise, surprise. Grandpa wryly retorted before asking, Why?

I don’t know! They just wanted us to kidnap you! The Arrow Train should be at the station in an hour. We were supposed to meet with the men on it!

Where would they have taken us?

I don’t know! I’m just a-

Grandpa poked him and his voice raised a couple octaves as he finished, To their Southern Stronghold! I think! I heard some of them talking! They didn’t tell me anything! I don’t know anything else! Please don’t kill me!

Grandpa looked disgusted as he let go of the captain’s hair and slowly stood. His cane was nearby. He abruptly thumped the captain across the head with it before informing him that if he didn’t need him to report his failure to his superiors so badly, he’d send him and his squad to hell for putting Mom through such misery.

After that, everyone worked on tying the group up and stowing them away in the barn. As soon as the intruders were dealt with and we were back in the house, Dad breathed out a deep sigh and looked at Mom. She immediately threw herself into his arms, shaking and crying big sobs and tears.

Oh, Tov! I was so afraid! I wanted to obey you! But I couldn’t! I just had to try! You know I hated every moment of it! Please forgive me!

Of course I forgive you, Clary, he assured her as he clutched her tightly to himself. Did you promise the man anything?

Anything he wanted! Better me than our girls! That’s all I could think!

You’re freed from that, sweetheart. You’re freed from all of it. It’s a thing of the past now, just like everything else. Only a memory and a nightmare.

Her hands clenched and unclenched around his shirt as she nodded. Grandpa’s warm hand touched my shoulder as I watched. I turned and buried myself in his embrace. I felt miserable.

My sister sounded even worse than I did as she bawled on Baruch’s shoulder.

He touched me! she sobbed. And the other men were wanting to touch Mom! I was so afraid! And ashamed! Why did she do that, Baruch?!

Poor Baruch understood even less of the entire situation than the rest of us. He was unbelievably saintly in his own thought processes, so comprehending evil was almost impossible to him most of the time.

I don’t know, Promise. Maybe you should ask her? he suggested as he tenderly stroked her head.

They attacked you, too?! Justice asked Ben in the meantime. How did you defeat them and know to come here?!

Dad sensed trouble earlier this evening, but he didn’t know what to do about it. Then Baruch noticed the men coming down the road. So when he told Dad what he had seen, then we decided to set up an ambush for them rather than the other way around. After that, we figured that we were most likely not their only targets and snuck up here to check on you guys.

They caught us totally unawares, Emmet said. There were two guys we knocked unconscious on the back porch, but other than that the only casualty on their side was a cracked jawbone. Pretty pathetic really.

Ben shrugged. Don’t feel too bad. We didn’t have to worry about protecting girls. And there were not as many at our place as there was here.

I had to smile at good-natured Ben’s comfort. Grandma would have been proud of him, if she had still been alive.

After some conversation, Grandpa and Dad decided that we would gather up everything that was important in our homes and take it with us to the train station. We had been getting ready for some sort of trouble for the last year and a half now, so packing took only a matter of minutes.

On the way to the station, we stopped by our pastor’s house and asked him to please free the shady characters we’d left behind sometime the next day.

Then we continued our trip to the train station.

The fastest train in the country, the Arrow, was waiting at the dark loading dock. Its headlights were off, but a light inside was shining through the open side entryway. Two men were standing in the doorway, checking their pocket watches and grumbling about how frustrating it was to rely on hired mercenaries who obviously didn’t know how to tell time.

What are we going to do now? Ben asked as we all paused several meters away and looked over the situation.

I think a direct approach will work best, Grandpa said.

Dad nodded. Promise, Mom, and I waited with the wagons while the guys snuck close to the men. Grandpa left Dad and the boys in the darkness so that he could saunter up to the pair in the doorway.

It’s mighty strange for the Arrow to be coming in this late at night, he commented. What kind of business is it on?

None of your business, commoner! the haughtier looking man sneered even as the other one went pale and tugged on his sleeve.

Uh… cousin… that’s the Younger Brother.

The haughty one’s face immediately washed out to an icy pale color. He glanced at the train conductor as he said, We were… just leaving, sir.

What a coincidence! Grandpa smiled as he gestured for Dad and the boys to come into view. We were just leaving, too! I’m sure you won’t mind accompanying us to our destination. Since the other escort you planned for us ended up being miserably detained.

It was only two men and one clueless conductor against our six. They yielded without a fight.

On the way up north to Great Uncle Hazael’s place, Dad and Grandpa interrogated the two men for clues on why they had wanted to kidnap us. I was with Mom and Promise in a different car, so I didn’t hear how that proceeding went. Instead I looked out the window into the dark night and wondered what we were going to do now. It obviously wasn’t safe for us to remain at our homes. Would we be moving?

Grandpa’s oldest son, Tommy, lived up in the northernmost part of the country. He had connections with the Hadadian monks up there, and had previously suggested that if trouble struck, the Northern Order would hide us. Although we didn’t agree with the tenets of the monks’ strange Damascene religion, they were our most loyal allies, especially since it seemed that the rest of the Royal Hadadian family had betrayed us.

I sighed as I watched the dark grey landscape sweep by. For all we knew, Uncle Hazael’s home might have been raided before ours. We might be walking into a trap.

We didn’t know what else to do though. Uncle Hazy and Grandpa had made all their decisions together since they were young men. Our whole extended family was very close. Whatever we chose to do, we would do it together. There were no if, ands, or buts about it.

Chapter 3

I started to worry when our train came into the station early that morning. Usually our family was standing at the loading dock, waiting for us with smiles. Everything was barren of life and ominously quiet this morning though.

Do you think they’re okay? I asked Dad as I worriedly looked out the side door. I don’t see the usual welcoming committee.

They don’t know we’re coming, remember? he reassured me. Don’t worry. Based on the information we got from those men last night, the raid here is supposed to commence tonight. We should be in and out just in time.

Are you sure you don’t want me to stay with you? Emmet asked Dad as he joined us at the side door.

I’ll be fine. It doesn’t take much to watch two bound aristocrats. Take care of your mother and sisters, and listen closely to your grandfather.

Emmet nodded before hopping down off the train. I hugged my father before following him. Soon, all of us were exiting the train station and setting out for Uncle Hazael’s secluded property about a mile away.

We passed through apricot and cherry orchards, then crossed over a serene-looking gazebo bridge. Then as we neared the house, the sound of steel clashing against steel met our ears. Grandpa started to tell us to hide, but suddenly we heard another couple sounds that told us all was well.

Alexandre was laughing, and Naphtali was scolding. Everything was still operating as usual at this BenHadad home.

As we got closer we could see that the noble brothers were sword fighting in the front yard, or rather, they had been. Now Naphtali was checking out a small bloodstain seeping through the front of Alexandre’s shirt.

Naphtali was twenty-four years old, and the eldest of Uncle Hazael and Aunt Maia’s children. His hair was as brown as a sparrow’s feathers, and always tied back in a tight ponytail. A short, neatly trimmed beard framed his handsome face. His body was tall and strongly built, and his posture was always straight and regal, even to the point of haughtiness sometimes. My favorite part about him was his eyes though. They were a clear grey like his father’s. I loved their many veiled expressions so much I could hardly bear to look into them for long lengths of time.

Alexandre, his brother, was eighteen years old, stout as an oak tree, and close to two and a half meters tall like a full-blooded Charner. His eyes were grey-blue, his hair was tousled, thick and dirty blond, and his constantly blaring laugh was loud, triumphant and obnoxious.

Even as we approached the pair, we could hear the grinning younger brother goad the older brother, I told you you missed.

Your shirt is torn and you are bleeding, that says I swiped you, Naphtali informed him.

A dinky scrape like that does not count!

Then what would?! If I took your whole smart-ass head off?!

Naphtali is correct in saying he did not miss, Alexandre, Cocoa, the boys’ sister, added from where she had been watching from the front porch. She was twenty-two years old, and very beautiful, both inside and out. Her misty eyes sparkled when she smiled, and her pale blond braid was as long as a horse’s tail. She was curvy, but not overweight, and her height was a little tall for a woman.

"Well, you have to admit that it was a pretty good dodge!" Alexandre persisted.

It would have saved your life if the rest of the sword was sharp, Naphtali admitted.

Suddenly, the youngest of the bunch, Rachel, saw us coming and exclaimed, Look! Cousins!

Rachel was twelve. The tiniest bit spoiled and pudgy, she was promising to be very pretty when she got a little older and out of the cute stage. Her chestnut brown hair was always plaited into two braids and her grey eyes were constantly sparkling with mischief.

The royal siblings’ conversation halted as they looked in the direction she was pointing.

What are you doing here?! Naphtali demanded.

Oh, what a wonderful surprise! Cocoa clapped her hands.

How long will you be able to stay? Alexandre grinned at Justice and Ben primarily.

Not very long, I’m afraid, Grandpa told him. Where are your parents?

In the house. They had some talking to do and shooed us out. Cocoa explained before she opened the front door and called in, Uncle Thomas is here!

See my new baby? Rachel triumphantly held up a fuzzy cat that I was sure I had seen before. I called it Sheepy. Because it is so white and sleepy all the time.

We obligingly petted it as we came up the front steps, along with the four or five other felines lounging and slinking about the porch. Cocoa smiled widely and opened the door for us. Daddy said to come on in.

I lingered at the back of the bunch, hoping to situate myself in Naphtali’s way somehow. I wasn’t disappointed. The handsome prince held the door open for the last of us to go through, and I risked a shy smile at him as I passed. Hey.

He hadn’t been looking directly at me, but when I said that, I was rewarded with a glance and smile back. Hey, Merce. It has been a while.

I would have loved to stay in the doorway and talk longer, but he wanted to hear what was going on. So we stepped into the house together.

Uncle Hazael and Aunt Maia must have been talking in the sunroom, because they both were coming out of there and into the dining room to greet our family.

Uncle Hazy was a weathered, slender man in his sixties. He was king over the double kingdom of Marna and Charn, but you’d never know it by looking at him. He kept his crown on the fireplace mantle, and his formal clothes in the closet. His thinning ponytail and full beard were streaked with heavy amounts of grey and a very dirty blond. And though his mind was still sharp and alert, his grey eyes were going blind, so he squinted a lot.

His wife, Aunt Maia, was a full blooded Charner noblewoman. Her skin was pale, her knee-length braid was silvery blonde, her colorless eyes sparkled and her smile was gentle and sweet. Although I wouldn’t call her pudgy per say, she was more than a little soft around the edges. She didn’t look much like a queen either, although I had helped her children make flower wreath crowns for her head many times when we were kids.

What happened? Uncle Hazy asked as he closed the sunroom’s sliding glass door behind him and Aunt Maia.

Trouble, Grandpa replied. We’re going to have to take Tommy up on his idea, I think.

Aunt Maia’s eyes widened and Uncle Hazael’s voice was faint as he whispered, How soon?

As soon as possible. The Royal Hadadians attacked us last night. From what we can gather, they’re planning on raiding here tonight.

Oh, Hazy! Aunt Maia exclaimed as she buried her face in Uncle Hazael’s shirt. This is horrible! I am so sorry!

They’d be finding an excuse to kick me out of office even if I never married you, darlin, he told her as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. The Charner thing is just the easiest to pick on at the moment.

So what exactly is going on? Naphtali butted in for all of us.

We’re going into hiding until everything gets back under control, Uncle Hazy replied. Everybody, go get your bags your mother told you to pack last month.

But I already used most of the clothes in mine! They were my favorites! Rachel wailed.

Uncle Hazael’s quick look at her would have made me melt into the floor, but Cocoa speedily grabbed her and ushered her towards the hallway. I will help you pick new ones. Come on, let Mom and Dad think.

I’ll help! Promise volunteered as she scurried after the girls.

Do you need some help packing food? Mom gently asked my disoriented looking