| |
Cassia
Cassia knelt on a piece of cloth spread along the edge of her garden plot. The avocados were just ripening, and she picked a few of them, intent on making paste to go with the boiled beans that afternoon. Pulling weeds or harvesting vegetables brought her peace of mind. As her hands stayed busy, she could think more clearly.
It had been several weeks since Alma the Younger's recovery, but Cassia hadn't spoken to him yet. She'd heard from her mother that Alma and her brothers were traveling throughout Zarahemla sharing the story about the angel. She'd seen Alma on a couple of occasions, but they were always surrounded by others.
Outside, encircled by the beautiful plants beneath the clear sky, Cassia wished she could speak with Alma again and tell him that she was sorry for what had happened, on both sides of their friendship. Everything had changed now. He had moved on with his life—to a better life. He was a man of God now. She was moving on too, although she wasn't quite sure what direction she was moving in. But she had her faith, and she knew that her heart would eventually heal.
Cassia dumped two more sweet potatoes into her basket, and she thought of the delicious meal it would make with the quail eggs that had been delivered to the palace.
She started to stand when she heard her mother's voice coming from the cooking rooms. "Double the recipes. My sons are home for supper."
Cassia straightened. My brothers are home! She grabbed the basket and ran to the cooking rooms. The servants looked up in surprise when she burst through the door. She set the basket on one of the tables; her mother stared at her.
"They're home?"
"Yes," the queen said, an amused look on her face. "I never thought you'd miss your brothers."
Cassia smiled. "Where are they?"
"In the throne room with Father, but they are not to be disturbed."
Cassia's mouth turned down. "Why not?"
"I don't know—some urgent matter—Cassia!"
She pushed past her mother and fled down the corridor, ignoring the queen calling after her. It had been at least two weeks since she'd seen her brothers. The meeting with Father could wait.
The guard stationed at the throne room raised an eyebrow when he saw Cassia hurrying toward him, but he said nothing as she opened the doors.
Her father's voice stopped mid-sentence as she rushed in, but Cassia didn't look at him. All four of her brothers were seated. Other men were with them, and they started to rise as she hurried toward them. But she didn't wait to be introduced and rushed to Ammon first, embracing him. "How are you? I heard there were terrible persecutions."
He chuckled. "We're fine. The reports were probably inflated by the time they reached you."
Cassia stepped back, studying his face, looking for cuts or bruises. "Are you sure?" he nodded, and she looked her other brothers over, assessing any damage. Seeing none, she embraced each of them in turn.
She noticed the other men watching her, two she didn't recognize, then . . . Alma. She met his gaze and felt her face heat. "You are well?"
"Yes, thank you," Alma said, his eyes steady, serious.
She looked quickly away from him, and still ignoring her father, she turned to Ammon. "What brings you home today? Are you going to stay for a while? Mother is already ordering the cooks around."
Ammon smiled and took her hand. "Have a seat, little sister. You can hear what we have to tell Father."
Only then did Cassia look at her father. His lips were pressed together as if he were trying to keep from smiling. He tilted his head, indicating for her to take a seat as well. Once settled, Cassia decided to take another peek at Alma. He looked so different from the man who had been listless just weeks before. He appeared older, somehow, wiser and more serious. Like her father, she realized. No, like his father. His eyes were kind and gentle, with a glow of new assurance. Warm.
"Father," Ammon said, and all attention was back on him. "We have shared our testimonies with the people of Zarahemla and the outlying villages. As you know, we haven't been well-received by everyone."
"Especially those we were associated with before," Aaron added. "They've been the ones who persecute us the most." He threw a glance at his sister. "But like Ammon said, it wasn't anything we couldn't handle."
Cassia smiled at him, wishing for a moment Ilana were back in their lives to see this change in Aaron. But she knew Ilana was lost to them forever. The cost of Aaron’s disobedience had been high indeed.
"Sons," Mosiah said, his gaze including Alma and the other two men, "regardless of the persecutions and the refusal of some to change their hearts, you have made significant progress already."
Her brothers nodded, but Alma's gaze met with the king's. "It's not enough," Alma's voice was firm. "Teaching the Nephites and bringing them all to the truth will never be enough restitution for the damage we caused."
The king raised his hand, shaking his head in disagreement.
"Alma's right," Ammon said. "We want to go out and teach our brethren."
"But that's what you've been doing," Mosiah said, his expression confused.
"Our Lamanite brethren," Ammon said in a soft voice.
Cassia involuntarily gasped, then covered her mouth. She could see her reaction reflected in her father's equally surprised face.
Before her father could come up with a reply, Ammon pressed on. "if we can bring them to the knowledge of the lord and convince them of the iniquity of their fathers, perhaps we can cure them of their hatred toward the Nephites."
Aaron leaned forward, his face eager. "Then the Nephites and Lamanites will become friendly with each other, sharing one faith, one love in the true gospel. There will be no more contentions in the land."
King Mosiah shook his head. "It's too dangerous. You will not make it across their borders alive."
Cassia let out a sigh of relief. Her brothers had completely gone from one extreme to the other. She was glad her father wouldn't let them preach to the enemy, risking their lives.
"We were the very vilest of sinners," Ammon said, his voice quiet, yet piercing. "We were about to be cast off forever before the Lord saw fit to spare us. We have been reborn, and we want to give that opportunity to every person—Nephite or Lamanite."
Alma placed both hands on the low table, his expression adamant. "We must declare salvation to every person. We cannot bear that any human soul should perish"—his voice trembled—"like I almost did."
Silence filled the room as Mosiah stared at the men. His gaze softened with emotion, and Cassia felt her own eyes burn.
"You have done enough, my sons. And you as well, Alma, and your friends, Muloki and Ammah," Mosiah said, his voice slow and patient, as if he were speaking to young boys. "You have had your whole lives turned around, paid penance by preaching to our people, and you continue to set a magnificent example to all." He clasped his hands together, his expression resolute. "But I cannot send you to your deaths. You have only just been found, and I refuse to lose any of you again."
Ammon's hands clenched where they rested on the table. Then he spread them wide, including all of the men in his plea. "Father, we are tormented day and night by the thought of the Lamanites dying without knowing the truth. We have the truth. We have the answers. All we have to do is share it."
The king lowered his head for a moment.
Cassia looked at Ammon, hardly daring to believe what he wanted to do. Leave Zarahemla? He was the heir to the throne. What would the people think? And what if something happened to him? She looked at Aaron, Omner, and Himni. If they all left, who would lead the kingdom? Her watery gaze landed on Alma, who was looking at the king, hope on his face.
Alma had always been in her life, either as a friend or foe. What if he left with her brothers? He didn't have responsibilities to the throne, no wife or children holding him here . . . His father would probably support him preaching outside the land of Zarahemla.
For a clarifying instant, she remembered Alma's desire to see other lands as a youth. Even then, he'd been willing to leave everything behind.
Movement from her father caught Cassia's attention. He shook his head. "I cannot give you my blessing. As my sons, you have responsibilities to this kingdom, to your own people, the Nephites." He looked at Alma. "You'll need to counsel with your father, Alma. I cannot speak for him. Muloki and Ammah, you must make this decision independent of my sons."
Alma gave a slight nod.
But Ammon jumped to his feet and cried out, "No, Father, you must reconsider! The kingdom of the Lord is more important than the confines of Zarahemla. This is your kingdom . . ." He looked at his brothers as his voice fell. "Not mine."
Cassia covered her mouth with her hands. She looked to her father for his response, but he said nothing. He held Ammon's gaze for a moment, then simply stood and turned away, walking out of the room.
"Father!" Ammon called after him. "Please reconsider!"
When King Mosiah had exited the throne room, everyone was quiet. Ammon sank onto the cushion next to Cassia. His deflated sigh spoke of his frustration. She looked at him, tears in her eyes, questioning if he would really leave—without their father's blessing.
Ammon took her hand and squeezed it, then he, too, rose and left the throne room.
Cassia sat helplessly as she watched her brothers leave the room one by one. No one spoke; everyone seemed deep in morose thought. The excitement and conviction that had permeated the room only moments before had been snuffed out like a lamp.
When she looked up again, she was surprised to see that Alma had remained, watching her. A sudden nervousness descended upon her as she realized that she was alone with him at last. Now was her chance to speak with him, but so much had changed in the last few minutes that she didn't know what to say anymore.
Alma broke the silence first. "Your brothers will be seeking your support."
Cassia let out a breath, feeling a burden descend at Alma's words. "Alma . . . you don't need to do this to keep repenting."
The light in his eyes changed. "It's not for me or for us. It's for them."
"But the Lamanites are our enemies—is this really worth risking your life?"
"My life is no longer my own, Cass," Alma said, his voice just above a whisper. "It belongs to the lord now."
Tears stung the back of her eyes as a sudden realization hit her. "You are just like—like that prophet who taught your father."
His eyebrows lifted. "Abinadi?"
"Yes," Cassia said. "Nothing could stop him, and he died for his preaching." She couldn't stop the flow of tears now and wiped at them furiously. She stood, shaking. "Is that what you want to do?
Die?"
Alma rose and crossed to her. He looked at her for a moment, then took her hands. "Cass—don't cry. The Lord will protect us."
"But He didn't protect Abinadi," she choked out.
Alma let out a breath of air, warm on her face. He reached up and wiped away her tears. "I know this is painful, and I'm dreading my mother's reaction. I'm also sorry that you'll miss your brothers—I know how much they mean to you."
"Please don't leave," Cassia whispered. "I'll miss you, Alma. You."
He stared at her, his expression stunned. "You'll forget about me soon enough," he finally said, looking away.
"No, I could never forget. Anything."
He moved back slightly. "Another reason that it's good for me to leave Zarahemla. You can move on with your life, without me as a reminder of the mess I made of yours."
She felt the breath leave her. He still didn't know how she really felt. "Don't you see?" Cassia said. "I don't want to move on with my life without you . . . you were right."
"About what?"
"About Nehem."
The pain in Alma's face almost caused Cassia to start crying again. but she took a deep breath and plunged on. "I could have been happy with him, yes, but I would have had to make myself be happy with him. He was a good and decent man; he didn't deserve to die. But I was not true in my feelings, and I feel guilty for letting him think I was."
"Cass—none of what happened to Nehem was your fault. If anything, I should be in prison and paying for hiding Kaman and Jacob."
"Kaman and Jacob are responsible for their own actions—and the Lord will see that they pay for them," she said, lowering her voice. "I don't blame you for Nehem's death. I forgive you for the decision to hide them. But it's over, Alma. I know you have repented of all of your wrongdoings. I know the Lord has forgiven you, and you are redeemed in my eyes as well." She placed her hands on Alma's cheeks, knowing there was no hiding her feelings for him once she did. "I want you to stay in Zarahemla for me."
Alma stared at her for a long time without saying anything. Then he slowly shook his head, his eyes dark with pain. "I can't."
She let her hands fall to his chest, then leaned against him. "I know. And I'm sorry for asking." She buried her head against his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist, knowing that this was the last time she'd probably ever touch him.
The tears started again as Alma's arms came around her, cradling her as she cried.
* * *
It was as if the palace were in mourning. Conversations were hushed, and the servants crept quietly about the corridors, unobtrusively performing their duties. For hours each day, the king sequestered himself in his private chambers, refusing to speak with anyone.
Cassia and her mother sat together in the cooking room, alternating between fear and apprehension. It was the one place Cassia took comfort, watching the servants prepare food and assisting when they allowed her—or when her mother allowed.
This morning, the servants were preparing a dish of boiled beans and spiced mushrooms. The aroma of the cooking filled the room, enticing Cassia—who had eaten little over the past few days.
She glanced over at her mother, who stared vacantly toward the window. Cassia knew her mother would suffer with her sons gone—from worrying about the unknown. It had been a relatively peaceful era in Zarahemla, skirmishes with the Lamanites few, although ever-present, and ever-looming possibility of war. But it had been nothing like the conflict experienced by Alma the Elder and those he brought with him, nor Limhi and his people.
Cassia's eyes teared up as she thought about the internal battles fought within Zarahemla and the persecutions her brothers were now facing on a daily basis. Yet, they had a better chance of coming home at night unhurt, safe. Going into Lamanite territory was asking for conflict.
On one hand, Cassia just wanted the decision to be made and done with. On the other hand, she feared what that decision might be. She watched the high priest, Alma, enter the palace several times a day, and her father make the walk to the temple to consult with his various priests. Argument after argument occurred as Ammon and her brothers pressed the king for permission. They would not give up.
Thinking over it all, Cassia knew that her brothers could very well leave on their own, without their father's blessing, but it was most important to them to have it.
She'd seen Alma the Younger come and go from the palace, always accompanied by one of her brothers, never alone. Not that Cassia had a desire to corner him and give another embarrassing display of hysterical female emotions, but she was not ashamed of her words. They were the truest from her heart, and she had needed to tell Alma how she really felt—before she never saw him again.
Maybe it would give him added insight or strength on his mission. He would at least know that she never blamed him for Nehem, and she forgave him completely. At least she had given him that as a farewell gift.
"I must go check on Father," her mother said, patting her hand.
"I'm coming too," Cassia said, rising with her mother. The queen said nothing, so Cassia followed her along the corridors to the throne room. The guard was there, but the doors were ajar. Her mother hesitated as the conversation inside reached their ears.
The unmistakable voice of the high priest rang out. "We have debated endlessly. There is nothing left to do but take the question to the Lord."
Cassia's skin prickled as her father answered with a heavy sigh. "Yes, that is the only thing left to do, and the only way I will be at ease with this."
Then, the king was walking to the doors. When he saw his wife and daughter standing there, he took his wife's hands and kissed them. "I have more work to do," he said, his gaze moving to Cassia. "The Lord will answer our pleas once and for all. He will want our sons to stay home, and they will have to obey."
The queen nodded and let go of her husband's hands, understanding in her eyes.
Then he left the women standing at the door. Soon after that, Alma the Elder exited the room, coming to a stop when he saw the women. He bowed to the queen, then looked at Cassia. "Thank you," he said.
Her eyes widened. "I'm not sure what you mean."
He smiled in his gentle way, and Cassia noticed the lines crease on his face. The trials of his son had probably aged him a great deal. "Thank you for never giving up on my son."
Cassia nodded, her throat too tight to respond.
Alma bid farewell to Cassia's mother, then left the palace.
"Now what?" Cassia whispered.
"We wait some more," her mother said. "Let's go see about the meal." She bustled away.
"Will we be having guests?" Cassia asked.
Her mother lifted a shoulder. "It seems that all of our guests are always fasting, so it might just be us."
Cassia followed her mother back to the cooking rooms. But she couldn't stand the wait. Leaving her mother to supervise the supper preparations, Cassia decided to walk through the garden before it grew too hot. She made her way through the gardens that extended down the hillside, where she stopped at the gate that separated the private from the public gardens. People would often spend time near the gate, hoping for a chance to see a member of the royal family. today, Cassia walked along the dividing wall, gazing out into the public garden.
"Miss," said the guard stationed by the gate. "Would you like me to accompany you?"
Cassia smiled at his offer. "No, thank you."
The guard nodded and assumed his position, but his expression didn't look convinced.
A few girls who were sitting together on a low bench on the other side of the wall looked up in surprise to see the princess. Cassia smiled at them and walked past. For a fleeting moment, she wished she had a group of friends, girls she could sit with and laugh. Girls whom she could confide in—share her worries over her brothers with.
"Cassia!" a female voice called.
She turned to see Bethany and Dana. The two girls nearly tripped down the hill, running toward her. "We've been looking for you," Bethany said. "The king just called for my father. A decision has been made. The queen told us to find you so that you could hear the news. She wants us to wait in the garden until they know what it is."
Already. The Lord had answered her father, Cassia realized. She and the girls hurried back toward the palace so that they could be ready to hear when the decision was announced.
They found a bench just outside the cooking room to sit on.
Dana, the younger one, was clearly more agitated than her sister. She kept standing, then sitting, and asking endless questions. "When do you think they'll leave?"
"Shh," Bethany said. "We don't know if they'll leave yet."
"Will they really have to fight the Lamanites?"
Bethany sighed. "We hope not—"
"Alma is a pretty good fighter," Dana said. "Remember when he used to wrestle with Ammon? He almost always won."
Cassia hid a small smile. She doubted anyone could beat Ammon now—unless he was outnumbered by Lamanites. Her smile fled at the thought.
"We should make Alma something before he leaves," Dana said.
"Maybe a new robe."
Cassia glanced at Bethany, who seemed to have tuned out her sister.
"Do you think they'll use swords or slingshots to fight with?" Dana asked, her eyes growing round at the thought.
"Dana!" Bethany said. "Enough! You're as exhausting as Cephas!"
Dana's shoulders fell, but the glint in her eyes remained.
"Maybe we should go in and see if our mothers know anything yet," Cassia suggested. Just as the girls rose, the door to the cooking room opened. Maia stood there holding a dancing Cephas by the hand, her eyes scanning the gardens.
"Mother, over here!" Dana shouted, waving her arm.
Cassia and the girls walked toward Maia, Cassia studying the woman's face for any sign of what had transpired.
When they were close enough to speak, Maia said, "The Lord has spoken." she looked at Cassia, then back to her daughters. "The Lord has promised that the sons of Mosiah will be safe as they travel to preach to the Lamanites."
My brothers will be safe, Cassia thought. But what about Alma the Younger?
Dana jumped in first. "Will Alma be going?"
Slowly, Maia shook her head, her eyes landing once again on Cassia. "The Lord did not specifically give His blessing for your older brother."
Cassia didn't know if she was relieved or upset. She'd seen the conviction in Alma's eyes. His heart was set on it—even if it was dangerous, he was ready to risk his life to bring his enemy the truth. Besides, the king wasn't his father, so did he need official permission?
Bethany was the first to question. "Will Alma listen to the king? What did Father say?"
"The king wants your brother to take over all the records of the Church. He's asked him to be the next high priest, after his father. The king asked him to remain in Zarahemla to take over this duty."
Cassia's mind churned, her body growing warm. Alma was to succeed his father? She looked down quickly before Maia could notice her burning eyes. That meant . . . Alma might not be leaving. She was too afraid to be happy or sad, or to feel anything.
She murmured something about going to see her mother and left Maia to answer her daughters' questions and try to corral Cephas's wiggling form. Cassia's heart was heavy, feeling the disappointment that Alma must feel, while at the same time scared for her brothers. It was comforting that the Lord had promised to protect them, but she wanted to hear more about the promise that had been given to the king.
When she entered the palace, she walked straight to the throne room. Sure enough, her brothers were all there—along with Alma the Younger, his father, her parents, and several priests.
Ammon saw her first, and she ran over and embraced him. "Isn't it wonderful?" he asked, his smile so big that Cassia didn't dare say anything else but, "Yes."
Ammon was positively radiant. Ironically, Cassia thought he'd never looked more like a king or a ruler than at this very moment—the moment he'd discovered that he'd be leaving Zarahemla.
"How long will you be gone?" she blurted out before she could restrain herself.
His face sobered a little, and he took her hands in his. "A while." He reached up and smoothed her hair back.
Cassia let the caress comfort her. She overheard her other brothers' excitement as they spoke with the priests in the room. She didn't dare steal a glance at Alma. She kept her attention on Ammon. "Do you think you'll be gone several months? A year?"
"Truthfully, Cass, it might be several years."
Her eyes widened. "How many?"
"There are a lot of Lamanites—a lot of territory to travel to."
She nodded, feeling numb. "What about the kingdom? What did the Lord say about that?"
Ammon tugged her hand and led her away from the main crowd. "I've told Father that I don't want to be king. Maybe one of our brothers will, but I've made up my mind. I don't want anyone waiting for me, and it's not fair to return after a long absence and expect to rule Zarahemla."
Cassia shook her head. "How can you walk away from your duty like this?"
"I'm not walking away from anything. I'm walking toward a new life. A life the Lord has laid out before me." He kept his eyes on her, watching her closely.
The emotions battled inside her, and she wanted to be alone to sort out her feelings. Like Alma had said earlier, she knew her brothers would depend on her for support. They needed her to be strong, not a sniveling sister who thought only of herself. Besides, what was she compared to the mission that the Lord had called her brothers on?
"Time will go by so fast. You'll see," Ammon said, his voice tender. "You'll marry and have children—and won't have a moment to spare to worry about us."
Cassia could only nod because she couldn't speak.
"Nut we'll need your prayers, sister," Ammon said.
The tears came, and she could no longer stop them. She embraced her brother again. "When do you leave?"
"Tomorrow."
She drew back, her heart feeling like it had been pierced straight through. "tomorrow? What about your provisions?"
"We'll take only a few things since we'll be living among the Lamanites, working for our support."
"Oh, Ammon," Cassia said. "I can hardly believe that I won't see you for such a long time. Who is going to test out my new recipes?"
"I can think of one person who could take my place," Ammon said.
Cassia followed his gaze. Alma the Younger stood conversing with the king, seeming to be in deep conversation. By the expression on Alma's face, she guessed he was resigned to the change in plans. At least he didn't look angry as he listened earnestly to the king. The high priest crossed over to the pair, placing a hand on his son's shoulder.
Warm prickles touched her skin as she watched the three men together—two of them the most powerful men in the land. Even with the four sons of the king gone, the kingdom would be left in good, strong, and capable hands.
Maybe there was still a chance Ammon would return and be king. Her father was aged, but he looked healthy. Her brothers might be gone a couple of years, preach all they could, then return to rule Zarahemla.
Cassia started to feel a little better. Her brothers were happy, her father seemed pleased . . . Just then she caught her father's eye. The king walked toward her, his hands outstretched. She took his hands and kissed her father's cheek. He smiled. "At least my daughter will stay here and comfort me in my old age."
"Oh, Father, Ammon and the others will be back soon enough."
He shook his head. "They have each renounced the kingship. It is not the Lord's will for any of them to succeed the throne."
All of my brothers have turned the kingship down? Cassia's throat was tight. "What did the Lord say?"
"He said that many of the Lamanites will be converted and have eternal life. The Lord promised to deliver your brothers out of the hands of the Lamanites. They will return someday, but not to rule over Zarahemla."
"You have many years left, Father," she said. "One of my brothers might change his mind."
"We will let the people decide," Mosiah answered, his eyes studying her.
Did her father expect her to marry someone who would be the next king? She was relieved that he didn't mention it, but maybe it was only because they were in a public place. She should be married to Nehem right now, and he would have made a fine king. Was that what her father was thinking about?
He bent down and kissed her cheek. "Let your mother know that the farewell feast will be tonight."