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Alma the Younger
Alma watched Cassia speak with the servants, then disappear with them into the cooking room. She seemed to run the household more than her mother did. The farewell feast had continued late into the night—it was as if no one wanted it to end.
Alma wondered what Cassia thought now that he was staying. He'd caught her eyes several times during the meal, but she'd quickly averted her gaze each time. He was still getting used to the idea of staying in Zarahemla, but when Mosiah had talked through his impression to give the records of the Church over to Alma's care, it made more and more sense.
His father was certainly pleased, and working as a scribe for several years had given Alma familiarity with the plates of brass and the other scripture recordings. Tomorrow, after the missionaries left, he would begin the daunting task—Mosiah wanted him to start compiling the record of the people of Zarahemla.
He would miss his friends—Ammon and Aaron especially. They had been through so much together. They would be entering an incredible experience, teaching the Lamanites and bringing them the joy of being born of God, and Alma would be remaining in Zarahemla. The disappointment was still tangible, but he recognized the Lord's hand, and he had to trust in that. Alma had to trust that remaining in Zarahemla and doing his part would build the lord's kingdom as much as leaving to teach the Lamanites.
Cassia came out of the cooking room, followed by a servant, both of them carrying trays piled with honeyed delicacies. She was smiling at something the servant said, then laughed. The two set their platters on the low table, and the servant returned to the cooking rooms.
Cassia spoke to her mother, then left through the garden. Alma wondered where she was going. The feast wasn't over yet, and her father certainly had a speech to make, if not her brothers. Regardless of why she left, he might have a chance to speak to her in private if he was able to catch her.
Alma slipped away from the banquet and entered the garden along the path that Cassia had taken, walking toward the northern portion of the gardens. It didn't take long to catch up to her as she walked slowly, her hand trailing a low bush.
She turned as she heard him approach. She didn't smile, but Alma was relieved that she didn't turn away either.
"Where are you going?" he asked, coming to a stop in front of her.
She looked up at him. "I'm sorry that you didn't get your wish."
"You are?" He hid a smile.
"Aren't you?"
He still felt the weight of disappointment mixed with anticipation. "Yes, a little. I don't know if I'm used to the idea yet, but I trust the king's judgment."
"I'll bet your mother is happy."
He couldn't help but grin. "Ecstatic. Although my sisters are disappointed they can't send me off. At least Cephas still wants me around."
"I heard you have your own home now, so it's not like you're there to tease them much."
He nodded slowly, soaking in her features. Even in the almost dark, he could see the faint blush on her cheeks. "No, not much."
"But you're still sad," Cassia prompted.
"I could have helped protect your brothers—Ammon is a decent hunter, but Aaron has a lot to learn still, and Omner and Himni . . . well, you know how they are. At least Muloki is a decent hunter, although I'm not sure about Ammah."
"You're too good," Cassia said, her hand touching his arm.
Warmth surged through Alma as her hand lingered. "I wish I had stayed good."
Cassia's gaze had a faraway look in it. "A lot of things might have been different." She seemed to refocus on him. "So you will stay in Zarahemla and become the next high priest?"
He nodded, watching her. "What do you think about me staying?"
"I'm pleased," she said with a laugh, then looked away as if she were embarrassed. "I mean, I'm sorry it's not exactly what you wanted to do, but now I won't have to miss you as much."
"As much?"
"Well, you'll still be very busy, spending all hours working on the records, meeting with people to get their histories, spending time in the temple learning your new duties . . ."
"It sounds like I'll be well occupied."
"Yes," she breathed.
"And what about you? What will you be busy doing?"
"Waiting," Cassia said, her eyes meeting his.
"For what?"
"For you . . ." She took a deep breath. "To propose."
He stared at her, wondering if she'd really spoken those words. Her eyes said she had. He reached for her hands and slowly pulled her toward him. "Do you think your father will approve?"
She tugged her hands away from his, taking a step back and folding her arms. "That depends . . . on whether you are going to ask him."
He reached for her hands again, this time interlacing his fingers with hers. "Don't worry, I'm going to ask."
She pulled her hands from his and reached her arms around his neck.
"Cass, someone might come—"
"I don't care if anyone sees us." She tightened her hold, and he responded, wrapping his arms around her with a laugh.
He buried his face into her neck, breathing in the scent of her. "At least I'll know who to blame."
She held on for a long moment, then pulled away, her hands still clasped behind his neck.
"Don't wait too long," she whispered.
"Is tonight too soon?"
"Not for me." she smiled. "But we should at least wait until my brothers leave, to give my parents a chance to recover a little."
He laughed and pulled her into his arms again. "Are you sure?" he whispered.
She nodded against his chest. "More than sure."
He released her and tilted her chin up with his finger. "I am not who I was . . . before I left, before I fell into iniquity. There were women—"
"You don't have to tell me," Cassia said, her gaze steady. "When I saw you after the angel visited you, I could see the change. I knew you had repented and been reborn. I could see in your expression that the Lord had forgiven you of all of your sins." She touched his face. "We must both let go of the past so that we can live our future together."
He gazed at her for a long moment, wondering how he deserved this good, pure woman. Then she surprised him as she raised up on her feet and pressed her lips to his. It was so light and brief that he didn't close his eyes.
She smiled as she said, "I love you, Alma."
"I love you," he said. "Thank you for trusting me with your heart." Then he leaned down for another kiss.
* * *
The overcast morning was unseasonably cool, and a slight chill pervaded Alma's robes as he stood in the main plaza. He drew his indigo priest's robe tighter about him. The group that had come to see the sons of Mosiah off was growing by the minute. Alma's parents and sisters were there already, the girls huddled together. Helam and Limhi had arrived with their families as well as the priest, Ben.
A few people started clapping as Muloki and Ammah arrived. On their backs they carried large packs. Alma was relieved that Muloki would be a part of the missionary group—the man was a fine hunter and would provide a good deal of protection.
More people from the city came, and Alma took satisfaction in seeing many new converts that had once been part of the rebellion. This brought on a sense of remorse for those who still refused to soften their hearts and listen to the truth. But Alma wouldn't give up, just as his parents hadn't given up on him.
As if he could read his thoughts, Alma's father came over to him. "The sons of Mosiah will be blessed in their work. They'll probably convince more Lamanites of the truth than we can convince Nephites here at home."
"You may be right," Alma said.
"Are you ready for this, son?" his father asked.
Alma lifted a shoulder. "It's hard to believe they're really going. And it's hard to believe I'm not going with them."
His father nodded. "You've been inseparable from Ammon since you were a young boy." He placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm proud of you for accepting the call to compile the records of Zarahemla."
Just then, his mother came up and kissed his cheek. "Your father told me about King Mosiah's consent to marry Cassia. I couldn't be more pleased. I could die happy this morning."
"Mother, don't say that," Alma said, looking down at her. He wondered if Cassia knew yet that he'd talked to her father early that morning. It turned out that he couldn't wait until after her brothers left after all.
His mother kissed his cheek again.
Someone murmured that the king was coming, and Alma turned from his parents toward the palace to see the king and the queen start down the steps. Less than an hour before, Alma had visited King Mosiah and asked him for permission to become betrothed to Cassia.
His eyes burned with emotion as he remembered the king's response. He'd leapt up from his throne and embraced Alma. Warmth still pulsed through him as he anticipated telling Cassia the news. He looked past the king and queen, wondering where she was. Just then, the princes exited the palace. The crowd cheered as one, and the brothers hesitated at the top of the steps, broad grins on their faces.
Alma's heart lurched at the sight of his closest friends. They would be leaving, and he would be staying. He chuckled to himself as Ammon bounded down the stairs, skipping several at a time and nearly losing his balance.
The crowd moved in and greeted the king's sons, exclaiming over their departure and upcoming missionary work.
Finally, Alma saw Cassia. She hurried out of the palace as if realizing she was later than the others. Her eyes searched the crowd, then landed on Alma, who was purposely staying separate from the gathering. A smile barely touched her lips as she came down the steps. Alma met her at the base.
She reached for his hand, surprising Alma with her public display. But her eyes were bright and her expression confident. "Father told me you came this morning."
"I'm sorry I didn't wait."
Cassia laughed, squeezing his hand. "I told my brothers right away, and they approve. Look at them."
Alma looked at the crowd, his eyes meeting those of Ammon and Aaron, who were now walking toward them. "Congratulations!" Ammon called out.
Aaron elbowed Ammon and hurried ahead. "I was planning on congratulating you first."
Ammon smiled as he stopped before them. "Now I know why Alma decided to stay behind."
"I didn't—"
"We know you didn't," Aaron said with an exaggerated wink.
The brothers laughed, and Alma shook his head. "Maybe I won't miss you two so much after all."
Ammon punched Alma in the arm.
"You can't do that," Aaron chided. "He's a priest now."
"We're leaving, so he can't do anything to us," Ammon said.
Aaron's eyes were wide. "Except change our history on the records."
"I feel sorry for the Lamanites," Alma said. "They don't know what's coming."
Omner and Himni appeared, offering their congratulations. Through it all, Cassia kept hold of Alma's hand.
The crowd quieted as King Mosiah prepared to speak. He pronounced a blessing on his sons' heads and on their companions, Ammah and Muloki. Each missionary took a turn to say a few words, and many in the congregation were crying by the time they were finished.
The king's sons bid farewell to friends and family members in turn, moving through the gathering. Then Cassia and her mother said their good-byes, embracing each brother fiercely. No one knew how long they'd be gone, but they could be assured that they'd have a whole city praying for their success and safe return.
When Alma approached the brothers, he felt as if he were moving through deep water. What might they look like the next time they met? What would have happened in each of their lives? Alma embraced each of the brothers, Ammon last.
"You could stay, you know," Alma said to Ammon, a wistful smile on his face. "You could rule the kingdom."
"I know," Ammon said, "but I've made my decision." He held out something to Alma.
Alma studied the red leather armband, but instead of the half-moon symbol on it, Ammon had his name spelled across it. "To remember me by."
Alma took the armband and slipped it on. "I'll never forget." He paused as Cassia appeared beside him. "May the Lord be with you always."
"And you," Ammon said.
The two men locked hands for the final time.
In a flurry, Ammah, Muloki, and the sons of Mosiah hoisted their packs onto their backs and crossed the plaza, the crowd parting to let them through. The king's soldiers would escort them to the borders of the land of Zarahemla. But the family remained at the plaza—one good-bye was enough.
As Alma watched his friends leave, Cassia slipped her hand into his and leaned against him. Alma looked down at her tear-stained face. "Will they return?" she asked, her voice cracking.
"Yes," Alma said. "I don't know when, but I believe we'll see them again."
The new missionaries entered the market street and disappeared past the buildings. Alma stared after them for several moments, then turned to Cassia. He took her other hand in his, oblivious of the surrounding people. "It's time," he said.
"Time for what?" Cassia asked, her eyes vivid.
"To bring more souls to repentance."
"And?" she prompted.
Alma furrowed his brow. "And to teach them about the true God."
"Yes, yes," Cassia said. "But we also need to plan a wedding."
Alma brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. "That, too."