Rebekah Exherpts 2 - GandC 1 & GandC3

Ch 9

Rebekah – 144 AK, Summer

Rebekah, as Mister Bekh, entered River Town and headed to The Sapphire. Not only was the food better there than at her lodging, she knew the weasel visited it regularly.

After eating, she stepped into the sunlight and noticed a plain well-groomed man watching her.

Is he another like Rosewud? Have I been discovered?

She entered a variety of shops, curious as to what he’d do. In each, she bought supplies she needed for the next journey. Yet, when she left the fifth establishment, the man hadn’t moved.

Is there a new price on my head… or that of Tomas Bekh?

The man still leaned against a hitching post when she entered the cobbler’s shop. When she departed, he’d moved closer, outside the fletcher’s. She considered avoiding him. Yet, if he’d been watching her long enough, he’d have identified her horse. Instead, she approached him. “Have you bought arrows from this fletcher?”

“No, no, I haven’t.” He blinked. “This may sound strange. A still, small voice told me to stand there…” the man pointed at the hitching post, “…and wait. Then to move here. I felt utterly foolish. But ‘a fool for the Lord’ so say the Writings. Do you know J’shua?”

Relief flooded through her. “I… do. Do you belong to a circle here?”

“My family leads a circle that meets tonight. I’m Patrik Gonnels.” He offered his hand. “Would you like to join us?”

A surge of hope filled her as she took his hand. "Have you seen a little girl?" she blurted out. "Her name is Sarah. She's six years old and about this high.” She balanced her packages on one knee in order to gesture with a trembling hand. "She... she's my daughter. She has blonde hair and a dimple in her left cheek. She was stolen two moons ago."

Patrick's expression fell, sadness filling his eyes. "No, sir, but I think you'd best come to the farm so you can tell us your story and ask the rest of our circle for help. My parents offer hospitality to all. I could take you there once you’re done.”

Rebekah wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. "I’m done and mighty grateful to you." Patrick might not know Sarah's whereabouts, but J’shua had brought them together for a reason. She needed information and, it seemed, the Lord was providing.

“My horse is at the stable getting a new shoe.” Mister Gonnels pointed.

She retrieved her mount, affixed her supplies, and followed Patrik to the stables at the edge of town. Then they both mounted and headed down the empty dirt road.

“It is good to know there is an active circle in River Town. I wanted to find one.”

“I’m home visiting family before starting my new post at High Castle. J’shua inspired me to apply for it. I’m excited to be stationed in the capitol.”

As they rode, they talked of the Lord’s marvelous works, of divine appointments, and needs being met miraculously. After an hour, Patrik pointed at a thatched roof and lazy smoke coming from a chimney.

The farm was a goodly spread with many fields ready to harvest. In the yard was a middle-aged man sharpening an axe and a woman plucking clothes off the line.

The rich aroma of a meaty stew made her stomach growl again.

“Welcome, visitor.” The woman wore a blue dress and plain muslin apron.

“Mother, this is Tomas Bekh,” Patrik announced, “a follower of J’shua from the south. Mr. Bekh, these are my mother, Clarin, and my father, Wenston.”

The elder Gonnels laid aside his axe. “I am pleased to meet you. Come inside.”

They spoke about the Writings and general topics until she heard, tell them your mission.

Rebekah recounted the debt collection, the murder of her parents, her daughter’s kidnapping, the moons spent hiding in Frei Forest, the reasons for her pretending to be a man, and the human sacrifice she’d discovered. “My son, David is safe in Esthlanis, but I have no idea where to begin seeking Sarah or Jonathan.” Her eyes welled up with tears, overwhelmed by the enormity of it.

Patrik’s mother embraced her. Rebekah sobbed.

“We feel your burden and see its truth. We’ll help any way we can,” Wenston added.

As she told them of more of her plans, a vision formed within her mind of all the circles in the land united and, somehow, the Gonnels playing a central role in what was to come.

Thus, with fellowship and food, a movement began. They called it Licht Gegen, or ‘light against’.

Ch 10

Rebekah – 144 AK, Winter

Rebekah was back at High Castle, her third stop on her circuit as a plow merchant. It was different this time. She knew where she’d be staying, had an arrangement with a local stable, and knew which taverns to frequent and which to avoid.

Or she hoped she did.

To her amazement, she’d already made a small profit. The original plan was to use her disguise as Tomas Bekh to learn and pass on information but, as things turned out, people were far more talkative than she’d expected. What’s more, listening to those people gossip was a great way to sell and meet new prospects.

The manager of the Poplar Inn greeted her with more than the usual pleasantries. Smartly dressed and clearly hoping to attract higher-class residents, he presented Tomas Bekh with eleven messages.

She’d been hoping for one or two. The missive from Major Patrik Gonnels read:

Looking forward to seeing the new models at midday on the quarter moon of the Goat at our location.

That meant the Commander’s office. The quarter moon was tomorrow.

The following morning, she walked down the bustling street. Her heart ached as she watched a young man twirl his lady, both happy as could be. She forced a smile.

Where are you, Jon?

She stopped at the butcher shop for some dried meat and the bakery for bread and a journey cake. As she nibbled on the treat, savoring its sweet corn, she studied the passersby, street vendors, shoppers, and soldiers.

Ahead, she saw Patrik Gonnels enter the Commander’s office. When Rebekah felt the peace of the holy spirit, she entered too.

“How may I help you?” the corporal behind the desk greeted her.

“I’m Tomas Bekh,” she responded, “a kinsman of Commander Taelor from the south. My mother asked me to pay her respects. Is the Commander available?”

“Let me see. Please have a seat, sir.” The corporal gestured toward a chair, left through a door, and returned a minute later. “He’ll see you now. This way, sir.”

Rebekah followed. There was a large map of the Kingdom of Freislicht on the wall beside a rack that held the commander’s sword, an axe, and a crossbow. As she entered, a hickory table to her right held a bowl and pitcher. Patrik stood from one of two chairs before the desk.

“Tomas, how good to see you.” The commander grinned. “Don’t get stuck on formalities. Call me Peter, as you did when we were young.”

The corporal left, shutting the door behind him.

“Thank you for meeting me, Peter.” Rebekah shook his hand and Major Gonnel’s. “And also for your greeting.” She leaned in and whispered, “For a moment, I was sure we’d met before.”

“No matter how this goes,” Taelor motioned to the empty chair. “I have no intention of raising suspicions. The Major is willing to stand surety for you. That’s reason enough to meet.”

“Major Gonnels also assures me that you can be trusted,” she replied, “and that you serve the king, not Melazera. You must not discuss what I’m about to tell you with anyone, not even your wife.”

The commander’s eyebrow rose. He assented with a nod. He kept nodding while rubbing his chin, as she told him of Licht Gegen’s strategy, their observations, and conclusions.

“Will you help us?”

Commander Taelor paused. “Mister Bekh, I serve the God of Truth, J’shua, and the king… so, yes, I will help you. We will expel this evil, but it will take time to root out.”

Tomas handed him a parchment.

Taelor looked at the letter and back at Rebekah. It was nothing special, no more than someone addressing their grandfather, some pleasantries, and that they were studying Ephesians 4. At the bottom was some unintelligible text, and the writer asking if his grandfather could translate it.

“A code,” Taelor noted.

“A letter replacement cipher based on the passage quoted,” she confirmed. “If things become more dangerous, we’ll alter the order or use multiple verses. Patrik can teach you the substitutions. This…” She handed over a second parchment that could have been an inventory. “…is an encoded list of nearby locations where Licht Gegen is active. It doesn’t extend beyond your area of authority.”

“I appreciate your prudence.” The Commander nodded. “Had you given me a list covering the entire country, I’d have had nothing to do with you, no matter how noble or righteous your cause. If you can’t maintain secrecy, you’ll fail.”

“I agree and, had you asked for the full list, I’d have thought you a deceiver,” Rebekah countered. “If you need our aid or to pass information, let Patrik know. I’ll leave now. It’s best if I’m not seen with people of influence… unless you want to buy a plow.” She grinned.

“No, no need for that.” Taelor chuckled.

There were still ten sales calls to make before moving on to Farr Castle. “If business keeps growing like this,” she muttered, “I’m going to need an assistant.”

Otherwise, my cover’s going to get in the way of my mission.

Rebekah – 150 AK, Autumn

After leaving David on Little Sister to train, Rebekah returned to the business of spying. She was on her circuit, traveling from Caswell to Lexandria.

Maddeningly, the business that was her cover for moving about collecting intelligence and passing on messages was so successful it couldn’t be managed alone. Indeed, it hadn’t been possible since the first year. She was growing wealthy. Yet, she still needed to move about as inconspicuously as possible.

It had been decided early on, in regard to saving orphans, that the families would do the best they could for them. This included teaching them all to read and, wherever possible, arranging apprenticeships for them. A large part of Bekh’s growing wealth was invested in such endeavors.

The brightest youngsters were also taught to write, a rare skill except amongst the nobility, some of the very rich, and the Order of the Black Robe. Raising children who could aspire to be professional scribes was yet another way to counter that organization’s influence. It also, inadvertently, provided Rebecca with potential assistants.

Each year, she’d take on one or two eleven-year-old boys who were intelligent, attentive, and desired to become a knight. They’d remain with her for two years, until she sent them to Little Sister.

She and her two lads had ridden south from Caswell on a warm day, where they’d made a less than average number of sales. She’d picked a spot to rest and make a stew. There’d been no special excitement, nothing interesting to chase down, nor any special news. As with most days, it was endlessly collecting bits of information that she passed on, as boring as breathing but just as necessary.

Her two lads were collecting kindling when another voice asked, “Sir?”

Rebekah looked up to see countless boys of all ages stepping out of the woods. Hers were not amongst them.

“Hallo.” She stood and smiled.

Their leader, a boy of sixteen, had addressed her. He was confident and kept his weight perfectly balanced ready for any potential action. “Hallo, sir, I am James of the Wood. Don’t worry, we’ve done nothing to your young traveling companions. They’re very noisy, so we just skirted around them. They’ll return shortly.”

“Glad to hear it. My compliments, I didn’t hear your approach.”

“We’ve seen you pass through our woods many times. We seek information.”

“How can I help?” Rebekah asked. Despite their numbers, they were unthreatening. There was something almost familiar about them. Almost. Yet, it wouldn’t come to mind, nor was there time to ponder it. The situation could change without warning… and James was already responding.

“We seek news of our parents. Most were arrested from circles in Caswell, Lorness, and Fairness Crossing. We’re afraid to go asking officials. They’re conscripting too many our age into the army. But since you come through here every few weeks, we hoped you might have news, or could provide it next time.”

She nodded, moved by their situation. “Let’s do this properly. I was about to make stew. Join us for dinner.”

“It’ll be good to eat someone else’s cooking,” James joked. “Call your lads back, we’ve everything you’ll need.”

“Douglas, Padraig! Come back, lads. I’ll need you to jot down some names.”

“They can both write?” one of the boys exclaimed, his eyes wide.

“It’s just a skill like any other. All it takes is time, nimble fingers… and much practice.” She chuckled. “Let’s eat and talk. Then tell me your families’ names. I’ll find out what I can.”

Her lads’ clomping back through the bush like clumsy giants caused them all to laugh.

A young boy of no more than eight carried a stout bow, taller than he was. In his makeshift quiver were several arrows. They too struck Rebekah as familiar. “Son, may I see one of those?” She pointed.

“Yes, sir.” He handed it over proudly.

She squatted beside the boy. “This is fine work. Did you fletch this?” A feather had a twist, like Jon’s arrows.

“Yes, sir.” He smiled. “Our helper taught us. Then we teach all the new boys.”

“You have a helper? Where is he?”

“He only stayed with us for two moons. He’s on a mission.”

Her heart fluttered.

Bekh glanced at James, smiling. “Could his name be Jonathan Otual?”

Eyes wide with surprise, the young man smiled. “Yes, you know him?”

She smiled. “Everyone’s heard of Sir Jonathan Otual.”

Ch 12a

Rebekah – 149 AK, Spring

Rebekah had written to Magistrate Gorum regularly, but she hadn’t seen him since before David was born. He’d replied recently that Jonathan would not be able to come until Winter so she’d collect her son before the waning moon of the Judge.

Now, she would meet Daikon Crispus again. David was in his thirteenth year and it was time for him to start at the School.

For the first time in years, using clothes she’d stored at the former Frei colony, she dressed as herself. Fussing with hair that had been woefully ignored, she wished for a mirror. Then, giving up, she packed her things and the sword David would need.

Having crossed the river into Esthlanis, she donned the sword, wearing it in the same fashion as Esthlani women did, dangling from a sash worn over their long wool tunics, tight and low across the hips. She borrowed a horse at the Tarin Bend Trading Post, where the river turned sharply north, arriving at the magistrate’s estate four days later.

David was with Gorum’s sons when they met her at the gate. “Mother, you’re here,” he yelled, galloping ahead of the others with a sweeping wave.

She spurred her horse, smiling broadly.

He’s so tall. He’s almost a man.

Without dismounting, they hugged as her heart swelled, and tears stung her eyes.

The four brothers led the way to the house, mother and son following behind, talking quietly to each other.

“You look well. Is your schooling finished? Are you a skilled horse trainer now?”

“My apprenticeship ended several moons ago.” David beamed with pride. “But they asked me to stay a while longer. I earned this horse, and its saddle and tack too. I was also presented with this short sword and the Complete Book of Writings, just as all boys are in Esthlanis on their twelfth nameday. Our circle gave me this copy of the Writings so that I might have something light for traveling as a knight. It’s like Da’s.” He lifted the flap and patted the book.

She passed her hand over the book and the embossed leather holster he wore. “It’s beautiful. Has your father written you?”

“Da writes weekly but his letters arrive in bundles almost every moon. He’s been in the country of Tarinland but said he must go to Mestelina. He spent several moons in Esthlanis after he left me here. He is looking for you and Sarah everywhere. Are you…?”

Rebekah sighed. “The Lord has missions for us both that, so far, have kept us apart. His still, small voice tells me your sister’s alive and well. Yet, despite help from many, I haven’t heard a whisper of her. Has anything reached you…?”

“No…” David shook his head. “Very little news of Freislicht reaches here. Less reaches my ears. They think they’re being kind, but… Thank you for writing me, Ma, I was so worried for you. I still grieve Sarah’s loss.”

“I appreciate their attempt to spare your feelings even if it's in vain. We must trust J’shua,” she encouraged.

Dismounting at the house, David hugged his mother again, “I’ve missed you so.”

Magistrate Gorum waited for them on the porch. “Welcome, Lady Otual. Have tea with me.”

A servant brought out a tray with fruit and cakes. Another followed with tea.

“Master Gorum,” Rebekah objected, “you are treating me like royalty. And here I am taking away your help.” She sighed, looking down at her hands.

“That was the agreement from the beginning. Your son’s prepared to teach all he knows of horses. Having the knights become horsemen, as well as swordsmen, will be good for all. It’s been a prosperous five years, with David’s help. He has a talent with animals. In thanks, to you and to Jonathan and to J’shua, I am giving the knights twenty-five horses. Please tell them to pick them up whenever they can.”

Rebekah sat back, astonished by the magistrate’s generosity. It was a truly princely gift. “I’ll recommend the knights come individually, spread out over a few moon, collecting one horse at a time.”

“There’s another matter,” Gorum continued. “I promised Jon, and myself, that I’d keep you safe.”

She snorted, leaning forward.

“We also agreed that I was unlikely to be able to force such ‘safety’ upon you. That doesn’t mean I won’t try. Therefore, will you permit me to provide you with horses, provisions, weapons, and an escort?”

“Beyond your borders, being accompanied by Esthlani warriors would draw unwanted attention, but I’d appreciate an escort until we approach the Tarin River Trading Post.”

“Done. And the other things?”

“Let’s discuss them.”

They talked well into the night.

David bowed to the magistrate and his mother then left for his room in the stable.

“Be proud of him, Lady,” Gorum noted. “He’s my best apprentice in thirty-five years. Had he no parents, I’d adopt him.”

“I pray that you never have to be holden to that.” Rebekah chuckled, slumping back in the chair, smiling at the thought of traveling with her boy during the week-long trip.

“Before I forget,” the magistrate reached into his pouch and brought out an elegant dagger in an embossed leather sheath, “Jonathan sent this. Said David needed a dagger, and it was customary for the father to provide it. He also wrote that he’s well, is in the Lord’s hand, and knows you are also. I’ve several letters for you, from him.”

“I have one for him, also, should you see him again or hear of a place to send it.” Rebekah sighed. “We have missed each other over these past five years. It’s enough to know he’s well and doing the Lord’s work.”

Gorum nodded, his face solemn.

“Thank you for delivering the dagger. It’s beautiful. David will be pleased.”

They conversed a while longer. Gorum gave her Jon’s letters and they exchanged their goodnights. A maid showed Rebekah to a room. She read Jon’s letter while the girl poured her a bath. She slept soundly knowing Jonathan was well.

She and David left in the morning. When they approached the border, Magistrate Gorum’s escorts left them.

She returned her horse to the trading post stable and mounted the mare Gorum had provided. Then they proceeded to Frei Forest, where she changed back into Tomas Bekh.

David heard her come out of the birch-branch shelter and gasped. He watched her walk past with a long stride and swinging arms, his mouth agape.

“How do I look?” She asked, using her feminine voice.

“Mother, you look like… a man.”

“Thank you. That is my intention”

“How…? Why…?” David’s eyes were as wide as saucers.

She deepened her voice, taking on that she used as Tomas. “It’s the easiest way to hide in plain sight.”

“Mother!”

“The act must be complete. Your father is being hunted. Those pursuing him would, should they find me, use me against him. So, I disguised myself. I became so good at playing a man that I kept at it. But,” she hesitated, “there are some things you need to know before committing yourself to the Knights. It is not the only possible path that lies before you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not hiding. There is a group, Licht Gegen, that I work with. Over the last five years, they’ve cautiously built up a network. None knows how large it is, nor the names of everyone involved in it. It’s safer.”

“You’re scaring me. It’s one thing to hide, but to work against…” He frowned, his eyes scrunching almost closed as they had whenever he worked through something. “What do these Licht Gegen people want?”

“To be able to live freely without being persecuted by nobles such as the Lord of Lorness. At his orders, our land was seized, our farm burned, and your grandparents killed. They would have sold Sarah and me into slavery while illegally demanding payment. We had a contract. What they did was wrong.”

“Father told me some of this, but to oppose such people…”

“All Licht Gegen wants is to live without fear,” she whispered, not wanting to alarm him unnecessarily. “But that requires organization, information, and money. As Tomas Bekh,” she gestured at herself, “I can drink with a target, befriend them, and learn enough to fill in gaps in our knowledge of the enemy. We have learned much. We work with people who seek the same thing from all walks of life. Farmers, traders, soldiers, lesser nobles, thieves, and other less savory folks. Many help us willingly. Some help us for coin. Some even out of hatred. And, yes, there are some who would betray us.”

“Mother, you can’t risk yourself like this. What would Father say?”

She smiled. “That I was heeding J’shua’s call and doing what I can. Not every person serves the God of Truth by wielding a sword or spreading his words. You can, if that is still your wish. Or, you could join others, like me, and form networks. It has been slow going, for I could not pursue my goals boldly. It required caution, guile, and even some deception. The role of Tomas is not merely a cover. It has become real. As him, I own businesses that I run, operate, fret over and must keep profitable. I employ more people than you’d believe.”

“You own businesses… plural?”

“It didn’t start out that way.”

“Then why not give it up? Have someone else run them. Find Sarah. She’s still missing, isn’t she?”

“The contacts I’ve built up give me a greater chance of finding your sister. I cannot let them go. I will find her, no matter the cost or how long it takes. If that means being Tomas, so be it. If it means working with Licht Gegen, so be it. Yet, seeking your sister is not all that I have done and am doing. It is complex beyond what you can imagine. But, to give you an idea, I know far more about what is happening in Lorness and High Castle than anyone but a Royal Minister. There are one or two of them working quietly with us. I’ve been shocked to exchange information with them and find myself the better informed.”

“That’s… not possible.”

“It seems I have a knack for this. But, even with the networks that have been established, we are still piecing things together, still trying to identify the key culprits. I want Gaelib Melazera to be one of them. But cannot prove it. Yet. What else would you have me do?”

“I… I’d never have… that is…”

“What were my alternatives? Other’s may be called to wring their hands and pray, leaving everything in J’shua’s hands. But my hands are able, my mind is clear, and my need to act undeniable.”

“I…”

“Would you have been happier had I acted as a woman? Understanding that, had I done so, I’d have had to do things I’m unwilling to do to get critical information.”

David froze, a look of horror on his face. “You wouldn’t,” his voice collapsed into a whisper. “You couldn’t.”

“No, I couldn’t. However…”

“However, what?”

“As Tomas Bekh, I receive information from the unlikeliest of sources. The good, the vile and the fallen. I have encountered women of the night seeking to redeem their souls, despite their misfortune. As with all those we deal with, some of the information they pass on is remarkably reliable, some is questionable, and some is intended to deceive. We’ve learned how to filter out such dross, for the most part.”

“That is extraordinary, Mother, I—”

“Don’t let your imagination run away with you, David. I’m guided by the Lord’s still, small voice. As you will be. Have faith. Now, we must resume our travels. To give you some perspective on what I do and have done, from this point on you’ll pose as my new apprentice, not my son. I’ll teach you what you need to know as we go.”

They traveled five days to reach Easy Mountain. As they approached the Kiss, many student knights welcomed them, taking them to Daikon Crispus.

Rebekah – 150 AK, Autumn

After leaving David on Little Sister to train, Rebekah returned to the business of spying. She was on her circuit, traveling from Caswell to Lexandria.

Maddeningly, the business that was her cover for moving about collecting intelligence and passing on messages was so successful it couldn’t be managed alone. Indeed, it hadn’t been possible since the first year. She was growing wealthy. Yet, she still needed to move about as inconspicuously as possible.

It had been decided early on, in regard to saving orphans, that the families would do the best they could for them. This included teaching them all to read and, wherever possible, arranging apprenticeships for them. A large part of Bekh’s growing wealth was invested in such endeavors.

The brightest youngsters were also taught to write, a rare skill except amongst the nobility, some of the very rich, and the Order of the Black Robe. Raising children who could aspire to be professional scribes was yet another way to counter that organization’s influence. It also, inadvertently, provided Rebecca with potential assistants.

Each year, she’d take on one or two eleven-year-old boys who were intelligent, attentive, and desired to become a knight. They’d remain with her for two years, until she sent them to Little Sister.

She and her two lads had ridden south from Caswell on a warm day, where they’d made a less than average number of sales. She’d picked a spot to rest and make a stew. There’d been no special excitement, nothing interesting to chase down, nor any special news. As with most days, it was endlessly collecting bits of information that she passed on, as boring as breathing but just as necessary.

Her two lads were collecting kindling when another voice asked, “Sir?”

Rebekah looked up to see countless boys of all ages stepping out of the woods. Hers were not amongst them.

“Hallo.” She stood and smiled.

Their leader, a boy of sixteen, had addressed her. He was confident and kept his weight perfectly balanced ready for any potential action. “Hallo, sir, I am James of the Wood. Don’t worry, we’ve done nothing to your young traveling companions. They’re very noisy, so we just skirted around them. They’ll return shortly.”

“Glad to hear it. My compliments, I didn’t hear your approach.”

“We’ve seen you pass through our woods many times. We seek information.”

“How can I help?” Rebekah asked. Despite their numbers, they were unthreatening. There was something almost familiar about them. Almost. Yet, it wouldn’t come to mind, nor was there time to ponder it. The situation could change without warning… and James was already responding.

“We seek news of our parents. Most were arrested from circles in Caswell, Lorness, and Fairness Crossing. We’re afraid to go asking officials. They’re conscripting too many our age into the army. But since you come through here every few weeks, we hoped you might have news, or could provide it next time.”

She nodded, moved by their situation. “Let’s do this properly. I was about to make stew. Join us for dinner.”

“It’ll be good to eat someone else’s cooking,” James joked. “Call your lads back, we’ve everything you’ll need.”

“Douglas, Padraig! Come back, lads. I’ll need you to jot down some names.”

“They can both write?” one of the boys exclaimed, his eyes wide.

“It’s just a skill like any other. All it takes is time, nimble fingers… and much practice.” She chuckled. “Let’s eat and talk. Then tell me your families’ names. I’ll find out what I can.”

Her lads’ clomping back through the bush like clumsy giants caused them all to laugh.

A young boy of no more than eight carried a stout bow, taller than he was. In his makeshift quiver were several arrows. They too struck Rebekah as familiar. “Son, may I see one of those?” She pointed.

“Yes, sir.” He handed it over proudly.

She squatted beside the boy. “This is fine work. Did you fletch this?” A feather had a twist, like Jon’s arrows.

“Yes, sir.” He smiled. “Our helper taught us. Then we teach all the new boys.”

“You have a helper? Where is he?”

“He only stayed with us for two moons. He’s on a mission.”

Her heart fluttered.

Bekh glanced at James, smiling. “Could his name be Jonathan Otual?”

Eyes wide with surprise, the young man smiled. “Yes, you know him?”

She smiled. “Everyone’s heard of Sir Jonathan Otual.”

Ch 12b

Rebekah – 151 AK, Early Summer

Rebekah sat with the Caswell family dowagers, having been introduced as Millya from south of Lexandria, a distant kinswoman by a marriage that had occurred decades ago.

She had arrived only an hour earlier and made a splashy entrance, drawing all eyes to her. Stating that it had been too long since her family, the Schlüssels, and the Caswells had interacted, she insisted on giving lavish gifts to the couple. In truth, they were provided by Drake. In addition, she had brought with her a quartet who were not quite as good as they might have been. Then again, the three men and female singer were actually bodyguards provided by Licht Gegen. As was the maid hovering about her and dealing with her every whim.

She had approached Drake through an intermediary, a week before. Hatching this plan and making him promise to tell no one, not even his wife, that she would be in disguise. He’d loved the idea and provided the identity of Lady Schlüssels.

The clothes she wore were expensive. A few locks of her artificially-greyed, long-neglected hair escaped the elegant wimple atop her head. Primly, she tucked them back in.

At a nod, her musicians began playing.

Drake and David came over, welcoming her and the other dowagers.

Tarynna Caswell trailed behind them, a pleasant expression frozen on her face as she did the absolute minimum necessary to meet her social obligations as hostess.

“That one’s still nothing but a social climber. She’d be nothing if any of Drake’s brothers had survived,” the elderly woman beside Rebekah commented just before Lady Caswell was out of earshot.

“You’re being far too kind,” another hissed. “If. Do you really believe her elevation was merely due to others’ bad luck. There are rumors that—”

“She did seem disinterested,” Rebekah interrupted. The last thing she wanted to do was be caught in the middle of a scene between the dowagers and the hostess… and Tarynna had stopped walking away. “However, it could just be that, raised as a lesser Locke, she simply does not know how to behave around her betters, and seniors. I must mention it to Gregory when I next see him. Perhaps he could send her a protocol tutor.”

Tarynna had been turning back towards them. But at the mention of Duke Gregory Locke, her lips closed tightly, the color in her face faded, and she stormed off.

“Please, please do,” the woman beside her pleaded. “I would love to see that.”

“Well,” Rebekah smiled back conspiratorially, “I shall do so. But it’s been a decade since I’ve encountered him and it could be another before I do so again.”

The women around her all giggled as “Millya” graciously accepted their accolades, then returned to looking through the crowd asking questions of this person and that. Her companions were more than helpful and provided gossip and insights that were astounding.

“Drake really must do something about his older servants,” one of them nodded towards an old, bent over, bearded man leaning against a wall. “He thinks it a kindness to force such unfortunates to continue working. Even if that means merely guarding some random spot.”

Another interjected, “Still, it’s better than what his wife would do, fire them all and evict them from the homes the Caswells provide.”

The oldster never moved from his place beside the door to a sitting room. Rebekah kept her eye on him. He didn’t seem to perform any duties. Yet, she couldn’t get a good view of his face.

Is it Jon? His height’s about right, but… blast! I can hardly go over there and ask. Nor can I send my maid. If it is my Jon, he could spook and run. Worse, it could lead to his capture.

“Ooh, isn’t he a handsome, strapping young lad,” another woman, seated behind and to Rebekah’s right, leaned forward and pointed to a flamboyantly dressed merchant in his early twenties. It was James of the Wood.

What the…? Why is he here? Her heart fluttered. Is he helping Jon?

Before she could send her maid to summon James over on some pretext, the wedding music began, sending everyone not already seated scurrying for their places.

 Drake took his position at the head of the hall. He looked resplendent in his family’s colors, covered by his navy knights’ cloak.

David, also clad in the garb of a knight, approached and bowed.

He looks so much like his father. She sighed. Where are you, Jon? 

Her boy stood straight and tall, awaiting the entrance of his bride, trying not to fidget.

The processional started when Cynthia entered the hall. She wore a pale blue linen dress decorated with white lace about her hips and small white flowers in her braided hair. She walked gracefully to the dais, her father beside her. She was a petite brunette with a sweet disposition.

She smiled, thinking of when she approached Jonathan on their wedding day. Ours was a simple affair in the yard. Yet, I was thrilled.

Tears of happiness streamed down Rebekah’s face, which she dabbed with her scarf.

David’s eyes roamed the hall, saw her at the back of the room, then bowed in thanks to all those who had gathered to celebrate. He then winked at the watching crowd as Cynthia’s father put her hand into David’s.

Rebekah smiled at the happy couple as they exchanged vows, proud of David detecting her and even prouder for not giving her away.

As Drake wound blue ribbon around their hands, he said, “We all bear witness to the promises these two have made before the God of Truth. I declare you one flesh. What God hath joined together, let no man put asunder. Do you have the ring?”

David slid a ring on her tiny finger.

“You may kiss your bride.”

David and Cynthia smiled brightly and kissed. When they turned to face the circle of friends, everyone roared with praise and applause.

Drake beamed.

Out of the corner of her eye, Rebekah noticed the old servant leave the room. Still without her having seen his face.

Is that you, Jon? And what is James doing here?

Ch 12c

Rebekah – 151 AK, Early Summer

Being seated at one of the high tables was something Rebekah had not anticipated. She had intended to slip away before the feast began. However, Drake himself had sought her out and escorted her to far too prominent – and visible – a location, sitting only one tier below the bride, groom, and their hosts.

If that were not enough, seated to her left was one of the gossipy dowagers with whom she’d watched the wedding. While, on her right, was a disguised James of the Wood.

What are you doing here? Blast, I don’t even know what name you’re using. My maid was driven off before I could learn even that.

“Lady Millya Schlüssels,” James began as he rose to his feet and bowed, almost convincingly, “it was not my intention to impose on this momentous day. The Earl’s servants thought it fitting. Therefore, please accept the apologies of a mere merchant. I, Albertus Bekh, do humbly beg your pardon.” He ended with another bow.

Rebekah forced herself not to smile at his using the same surname as her Tomas Bekh persona. “Given that the situation was not of your making,” she paused, “I accept your offered apology. This time. There is matter that I wish to discuss with you later. In private. In regards to business dealings that I’ve had with your father, Tomas.”

James – 151 AK, Early Summer

“My father,” James paused, trying to work out how this woman knew Tomas Bekh, “has arrangements with a great many people, Lady Schlüssels. I regret to inform you that I’m not up to date on your most recent transactions.”

“That’s not a problem. This will be a new, urgent commission. I am willing to pay handsomely, within reason, to have your sole attention for a time. You are able to make commitments on his behalf, aren’t you?”

“Within certain limits, I am completely at your disposal. If your generosity equals what it has in the past, there is no limit as to what we can do for you.”

“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear,” Rebekah responded.

James wished he understood what he’d just committed himself to. However, he had to go along while playing this ridiculous role.

Why did I think it a good idea to pose as a Bekh?

Rebekah – 151 AK, Early Summer

Rebekah was beginning to wonder how many clues she’d have to drop, when the light of understanding flashed in James’ eyes. She hoped no one had witnessed it. Or, worse, misinterpreted it. Otherwise, that person might think she’d indecently propositioned him, as the dowager seated on her other side had hinted at doing.

“I… no, just eating too fast,” he replied as the second of his bodyguards approached, bent close and conveyed a whispered message. “However,” he flashed a dazzling smile, “I have just been informed of a matter that I must attend to with alacrity. After which, I must immediately depart. Therefore, as you’ve stated there was something you needed to discuss in private, would you care to walk me out?”

He stood and helped her from her chair.

Drake cast an annoyed glance at them.

“I’ll be right back,” she soothed, causing their host’s attention to turn to other matters.

Once they were far enough away from the tables, she asked, “What’s going on?”

“It would seem,” James replied, “I have offended the hostess, Lady Tarynna. She intends to frame me for unseemly behavior, then blackmail or defame me. As I’m confident that I’ll never again play the role of Albertus Bekh, it’ll cause me no trouble. If I leave immediately. I suggest you do the same.”

“How do you know this?”

“Lady Tarynna set her maids to find dirt. Offering the ‘winner’ a prize. One of them saw fit to warn me. I fear you’ll be ensnared also. We have a very few minutes to flee.”

“Thank you for warning me. If there’s anything I can do…”

Rebekah – 151 AK, Early Summer

Still with her arm linked through James’, Rebekah was led to stables south of the castle. As one of his bodyguards opened the gate for them, she heard from behind…

“Nuwadohiyadu uwoduhi udalii.”

It was perfect Mesteline for, “peace beautiful wife.”

She gasped, but did not turn around. She blinked away tears, overcome. Her heart clenched. She yearned to hold him. Yet couldn’t. They were being pursued. Even here, she could not be seen addressing a servant, much less a mercenary. It would be too memorable. She could, however, speak to her companion. “When you next see Jon, tell him to send a letter to your father regarding the Gorum matter. I can’t meet in person. I’ll not risk it, given his reputation. Even though I’m sure it’s unjustified.”

“Hurry,” James insisted, scanning the street as a group of soldiers rounded the corner and spread out to harass every business.

The two women he’d mentioned were waiting inside, cowering in the shadows.

“James,” Rebekah instructed, “introduce me to these ladies.”

Jonathan stepped forward. “This is my employer,” he pointed at James, “and this is the lady who will get you safely out of Caswell.”

“Do exactly as she says,” James commanded. “I trust her completely.”

“Come with me.” Rebekah motioned towards the stable’s rear door. Looking back, she saw Jon, James, and the third man don hooded cloaks bearing the green dragon sigil of the Lord of Lorness, then ride proudly out into the street.

An emergency rendezvous with Licht Gegen was only a block away. There, a quick change of clothes for her, the maid and her grandmother, plus a little stage make-up and spilled wine, permitted a gaggle of farmers’ wives to make their drunken way out of the city.

Ch 13

Rebekah – 151 AK, Summer

It had been over four years since Rebekah first exchanged messages with Daikon Crispus. For the first time, orphans adopted by Licht Gegen were entering their thirteenth year and wished to become knights.

Five of them were brought to the Inn at Fairness Crossing by their adoptive parents. There, they were given their first test to demonstrate they were intelligent and resilient enough to become knights. They would travel to the Kiss on Shining Mountain, relying on each other and J’shua.

Rebekah gave the boys instructions and bid them Godspeed.

After they left, she followed at a distance to make sure they reached their destination unmolested. It was a five-day journey on foot. She was pleased to see them work together to gather herbs to eat, decide which way to go, and keep watch as they took turns sleeping. When they saw the Kiss above them, they began singing.

Daikon Crispus met them with a big smile. He pointed to the Kiss, where another knight stepped into view. “Follow Daikon Franks.” He watched them bound away.

Bekh stepped from cover grinning at the old knight.

Crispus embraced her. “Jonathan has been here.”

Rebekah’s smile turned to a frown, her eyes downcast. If she’d have just stayed here, lived with the knights, she’d be with him now. But that wasn’t her calling. The work of Licht Gegen benefited so many. Orphans saved from conscription and worse were growing up in J’shua. Circles were growing in secret, even in the region of Lorness. And the commander claimed the intelligence was priceless.

“Is he well?”

Crispus tilted up his head and nodded. “I passed on your message. He understood, and wished you well with your mission. As you required, he’s heard nothing of Tomas Bekh from us. He left letters for you. I’ll fetch them.”

Ch 14

Rebekah – 151 AK, Late Summer

Like every other peddler, trader, and merchant, Rebekah had come to Farr Castle to watch the Royal Annual Hunt and take advantage of the opportunities that arose when so many gathered together. However, in her case, she wasn’t interested in sales – very few would want to buy a plow – but in gathering and disseminating information. It had become a part of her yearly plans.

Just as each year, she ‘accidentally’ encountered either Commander Peter Taelor or Major Patrik Gonnels. Then, as the commander’s kinsman or the major’s friend, they’d have dinner, appear to get drunk, and exchange stories interspersed with intelligence reports late into the night.

The most recent special order from Peter Taelor stated he had duties that kept him at High Castle, so she was on the lookout for Patrik near the fire performers. However, it was early in the evening, so she ambled through a nearby market.

She kept an eye out for certain hard-to-find objects that Licht Gegen needed, the foremost of which was weapons. She couldn’t purchase them in bulk, nor could she buy them everywhere she went without drawing unwanted attention.

In the temporary marketplace established on the outskirts of Farr Castle, wares were on display that were not seen at any other time of year. Amongst them were Esthlani short swords. The foreign merchant did very little business.

Rebekah felt he looked rather dejected. “Why the long face?”

“I listened to my cousin. ‘Aodh,’ he says, ‘go to Farr Castle. Make a killing at their Annual Hunt Fair. You’ll sell more there in a week than anywhere else in Freislicht in a year.’ That last might be true. I’ve sold almost nothing and the others selling swords derided me for wasting my time trying to sell our weapons.”

“Well, every merchant wants to undermine the other’s confidence,” Rebekah responded. “I sell plows. Some of the tricks my competitors have tried…” She chuckled.

“I suppose it’s the same everywhere,” Aodh grumbled.

“Mind you,” she picked up one of the blades and examined its workmanship, “I can think of several farmers who’d think these fine weapons.” She grinned. “Perhaps I could buy you a drink and we could chat about a profitable arrangement?”

Aodh scratched his chin, then nodded. “I–”

He was drowned out as a Herald shouted, “Hear ye, Hear ye. Be it known that King Edal is dead, gored by a rogue boar. Long live King Sagen!”

Rebekah gasped. She knew in her gut something evil was afoot. How would this impact Licht Gegen? Would the new king protect the people?

The listening crowd chanted the new king’s name, but worries and fears for their uncertain futures colored their voices, rendering them weak and unenthusiastic. Shopkeepers and merchants began covering their stalls. No one would be selling today. No one would insult King Edal’s memory by doing so. The only people to profit would be tavern keepers.

“That drink sounds like a great idea.” Aodh threw tarps over the wagon on which his weapons were displayed. Then he turned to a redhaired lad. “Aaren, look after things. I’ll be back later.”

The boy nodded.

“Bring one of your blades, so I can examine it,” Tomas suggested, while wondering how the king really died. She’d bet half her fortune there’d been foul play. She’d bet the other half she could predict the gossip that’d be flying around by nightfall, both positive and negative.

Ch 16

Rebekah – 152 AK, Early Summer

Rebekah was back in Lexandria. She didn’t want to be. She wanted to be looking for Sarah, searching for Jonathan. She wanted to learn more about Melazera’s plans and thwart them – for she was ever more convinced that the so-called Lord of Lorness was at the heart of everything foul.

No, I want him to be. I still can’t prove it. But I will. Then, in J’shua’s name, I shall wreak holy vengeance upon the man who outlawed my husband, stole away my daughter, and tried to sell me into slavery. This I vow. He and those who willingly worked with him shall atone for their vile sins.

However, the practicalities of life kept getting in the way. Plus, too many of Licht Gegen’s operations were directly or indirectly funded by her growing wealth.

Riches. Be honest. I’m not merely wealthy. As Tomas Bekh, I am already rich beyond anything I could have imagined. It’s embarrassing, vulgar and in conflict with J’shua’s example of living a simple life.  I could buy my parent’s farm dozens of times over and have money to spare. I am surrounded by… excess.

The extent of her holdings still puzzled her. As did their value increasing leaps and bounds with every new venture she started. Ventures initiated because they might provide information, contacts, or leverage. Or, to provide ways to clandestinely get money to those who needed it. Or, to obtain things that could not be openly bought and sold in Freislicht, such as weapons, armor, and other equipment.

Almost all of which, seemingly of their own volition, kept making yet more money.

The trip south was merely the latest imposition on her time that her successes thrust upon her. She had tried to distance herself from controlling this mercantile monster she’d created by hiring a manager in the north and another in the south.

Kellick Dunston, the northern manager, was steady, stodgy, and matter-of-fact. He loved numbers more than people. He fulfilled her instructions without question. His only failing, in her eyes, was that he was making her even richer. That was despite her insisting he buy up as many as possible of the debts that the loathsome Melazera might otherwise foreclose on.

She was in Lexandria to see her southern manager and still trying to decide whether or not to fire Bywold Parsons. Maybe, she’d just strangle him. It’d be far more satisfying.

Parsons had initially proven a commendable addition to her enterprises. For the first four moons, he could do no wrong. However, in the last six weeks he’d been late with three major shipments and had infuriated a long-standing customer almost to the point of losing them. Admittedly, he had taken responsibility for the mistakes, but she simply didn’t need the additional headaches.

For her, business was a way to move around unnoticed. Or had been. She was starting to be recognized as an affluent trader.

The messages left at her usual inn had directed her to an address she wasn’t familiar with. The building turned out to be a large warehouse with an office on its upper floor. The sign over the main doors read: Bekh’s Bold Businesses. The image below it was a stylized depiction of her face. Her thickly bearded face.

Her heart sank.

What’s Parsons done now?

As she stormed up the stairs, she was wondering how to fix this mess without wrecking everything she’d built, only to find a seated Bywold Parsons speaking to… Charles Dugan, who she hadn’t seen in almost a decade. Not since they’d both left Frei Forest. “What the…? What’s going on?”

“Mr. Bekh,’ Parsons said, rising to his feet and bowing, “I apologize for the recent inconveniences. I—”

“He did as I insisted,” Charles cut in. “I’ve ended up running Licht Gegen here in the south. It turns out that by creating a few hiccups with your deliveries, we were able to spot–”

“Should you be mentioning Licht Gegen?” Parsons fretted, his face becoming ashen. “Mr. Bekh knows nothing of them. I’ve kept my involvement absolutely quiet. I–”

“Bywold,” Charles soothed. “Tomas is one of us. I vouch for him.”

“Oh… oh… in that case,” Parsons sat back down.

“However,” Charles sprouted a slight grin, “I wasn’t going to take any chances until I confirmed that your employer, Mr. Bekh, was still the… man… I knew nearly a decade ago. How about I buy you a drink and we talk about recent developments? Parsons, join us.”

Rebekah nodded.

How much odder will this get?

It turned out that not only had Charles been using her company’s funds for Licht Gegen matters, but he’d somehow made yet more profit.

Ch 20

Rebekah – 153 AK, Spring

Rebekah, as Tomas Bekh, rode out ahead of her six wagons, their drivers, and three outriders.

As usual, she tried to spot James and his boys – well, more than boys now – before they spotted her. And, as usual, she failed. Although, having James ride up beside her was a first.

His brown, wavy hair danced in the breeze. All his men, wore dingy clothes in need of repair, but their skin was clean and they didn’t smell wild. Even though they placed themselves randomly about, she knew they were well-organized.

“Welcome back, Mr. Bekh.” He grinned.

“James, the horse is new. I didn’t know you could ride.”

“Several of us can. We’ve been teaching others. What’s hidden amongst those wagonloads for us?”

 “Hidden? Nothing,” Rebekah beamed, “it’s all for you. Plus, I finally have news about more than a handful of names. Some of you can safely go home.”

James halted his horse. “The content of all six wagons is for us?”

“Yes, the lot.” She stopped her horse beside his. “Everything from new clothes to cooking utensils, to tools, to weapons. There are even some prototype swords from an artisan in Esthlanis. Let me know what you need. I’ll get it for you in only a handful of weeks.”

He hesitated. “There is something.”

“What?”

“Several of us want to train as Knights of J’shua. We may be a bit older than traditional candidates but, with the Fellowship branded illegal, if there’s somewhere we could train, we’d like to.”

Tomas paused. “There may be a way…”

Ch21

Rebekah – 153 AK, Spring

Just north of Caswell, Rebekah breathed in the crisp air as her horse’s hooves crunched through the rainbow of fallen leaves. She would miss this. It had been almost ten years since she’d begun playing Tomas Bekh. She’d enjoyed traveling the countryside and selling plows, while gathering and disseminating information. Others could – and would – do that from now on.

The fretful Bywold Parsons had proven his ability to ferret useful information from mountains of gossip. Having found one such person, Licht Gegen looked for more. So far, they had only found two: a gossipy widow with a nose for nastiness; and a former Black Robe who was willing to work for anyone who would pay him, while keeping him safe from retaliation.

With those three sifting through things, Licht Gegen gained a far more complete view of Gaelib Melazera’s operations. It also required someone trusted enough by all of the independent regional groups to manage their organization. That someone turned out to be Rebekah, which left her ever less time to be Tomas Bekh.

This would be her last circuit for many, many moons, so she tried to enjoy it and let her replacement do the work. The rest of their group consisted of two apprentices, four trusted mercenaries for their protection, and a few extra horses carrying provisions.

As they rode, they came across deep wagon tracks. Winters were rainy and the weather was getting colder. Such transports were likely to get bogged, risking the lives of the horses and merchants. Something so heavily laden was asking for trouble.

“We’ll follow the tracks for a bit,” Tomas commanded. “Wayde, scout ahead to see what’s going on. Don’t be seen. We wouldn’t want to alarm them unnecessarily.”

“Yes, sir!” The lad spurred his horse into a gentle gallop and was quickly lost to view. He returned twenty minutes later. “I got flagged down by one of James of the Wood’s boys. Says he’s got something for us, if we’d be so kind as to play highwaymen and run off the wagon drivers.”

Rebekah shook her head. James’ people had good instincts. But robbing someone on a hunch? “I’ve got a better idea. We’re going to go ‘help’ those poor wagon drivers, whether they want us to or not.” She kicked her horse into a gallop. The rest fell in behind her.

In the silent, near-frozen landscape, the merchant made an almighty racket. Less than a quarter of an hour later, they caught up with two heavily laden wagons being drawn by oxen. Both of which were slogging forward at a steady pace.

Rebekah slowed her horse so she rode beside the leading wagon master. “Late in the year to be hauling something so heavy. Need a hand… or an escort?”

“Nah, we’ll be a’right,” the wagon driver responded, without looking.

Insist, a still, small voice instructed.

Rebekah pointed to the horizon. “The sun’s almost gone. Why don’t we all stop for the night and share a camp? It’d be good to hear someone else’s stories for a change. I think I know all of my people’s tales by heart.”

“Nah, nah… we’ll just plod on–”

“And get maybe another mile today? Not worth it. Hell, my people will even cook for you. I insist.”

With a loud crack, the rear axle on the second wagon gave way, followed by splintering sounds. Uneven pressure on the two back wheels caused their spokes to disintegrate. The rear of the wagon’s tray dropped to the ground. Several barrels of wine came loose, rolling clear and spooking a mercenary’s horse.

“It’s a good thing we were here,” Rebekah commented.

The driver of the second wagon looked back at the wreckage behind him, while the driver of the first tried to get his oxen to run, only to be caught easily. He begged, “Please, they forced me. They threatened my family. I told them it was too late, but–”

“Bekh,” Wayde yelled, “there’s something wrong with this barrel.” He and two others were trying to stand it up, but it kept toppling over.

“Break it open!”

“No!” the second wagon driver begged, then shut up.

With a crack, the cask’s side split, followed not by a gush of wine but a trickle. Inside was a second wooden shell. Without having to be asked, they broke that open…

…and hundreds of baden tinkled into the waning afternoon light.

Ch 22

Rebekah – 153 AK, Spring

Rebekah refused to have her new role as coordinator of intelligence and active operations for Licht Gegen, prevent her from participating in some of the action. Not that she would risk her life doing anything too foolish. By her standards.

That was why, dressed as a woman who’d been taken in a feigned debt collection, she was trapped in a cage cart south of Lorness. With her were three very pretty girls of marriageable age, a lad whose seemingly bloody leg was wrapped in bandages, and three children. That all of them were armed with weapons wasn’t obvious, even if looking into the cage.

All were trained, even the youngest, who had an affinity for throwing knives. All had been assembled by Licht Gegen, avoiding any use of real names, so none could identify the others.

The guards escorting the cart were lads from James of the Wood, dressed in uniforms recovered and repaired after their owners ceased needing them. They’d been traveling for several hours, stopping frequently, and had ‘added’ one or two people at each stop, until all eight had been ‘captured’.

At this one, the guards had set the abandoned farm ablaze. Those in the cage cowered and wailed.

When another wagon approached, its driver roared, “Son of a hundn. What’re you doing? That farm belongs to…” His words were drowned out by a wall collapsing and the sound of a river of baden flowing into sight.

The well-dressed young man playing the part of Lord Melazera’s clerk opened his folder and checked something. “As the Lord of Lorness requires, it’s just been sold to someone who’ll build a mansion there. Who’re you? How dare you challenge me?”

As their argument escalated, Rebekah slumped dejectedly to the floor of the cage cart, gripping the stock of a hidden crossbow, preparing to raise and fire it. As she did, her eyes flicked to a horseman who stopped in the distance and patted his horse’s flank.

It couldn’t be, but it was…

…Jonathan!

Sheisse!

She couldn’t risk him interfering. James’ lads wouldn’t take instructions from her. They only knew her as Tomas Bekh. She looked nothing like him at that moment. Nor could she risk the others in the cage learning her identity. Apart from anything else, she’d never hear the end of it, never again be able to be Bekh, or play any other role.

Sheisse!

Raising her hands so they shaded her face in a particular way, she prayed Jon saw her signal and honored it, staying away.

Sheisse, he could decide to come to her aid and attack James’ boys! As she fretted, unable to do anything but pray, the two arguing men dismounted. Their confrontation lasted only long enough for a blade to slip between the wagon driver’s ribs. He collapsed into the clerk’s arms.

Even Rebekah had to admit it was beautifully done. From a distance – from Jon’s distance – it should have looked as if the driver had fainted and the clerk caught him.

After the wagon driver was ‘helped’ onto the back of his wagon, Rebekah heard the telltale trickle of wine that lasted only seconds, followed by the tinkle of baden on wood.

Her information had been correct. They’d intercepted yet another of Lorness’ money deliveries. The baden found in the burning house was an added blessing.

After the wagon was hidden in the trees, she and the other prisoners transferred the extra coin to the false floor of the cage cart.

On the day-long ride to the safe house in River Town, Rebekah frowned as a prisoner should, ignoring the changing scenery. She wasn’t acting.

Jonathan, why can’t you appear more conveniently? Keep him safe, Lord.

Ch 23

Rebekah – 153 AK, Spring

A deep ache grew in Rebekah’s chest as she remembered the mission in the cart. Jon had been so close. Then a patrol of Royal Guards had thundered into and out of sight. Too many for her band of ambushers to deal with. Certainly not with her and seven others stuck inside that cage. And so many that even Jon might not have been able to evade them. He’d looked so worn and tired.

She closed her eyes as the coach rocked.

J’shua be with him and our daughter and son.

She was starting to miss being T’mas Bekh. Well, sort of. Coordinating and organizing was no fun. None at all. Mostly.

However, that day had netted Licht Gegen a staggering 439,000 baden. Between what was in the shipment and what had poured forth from the wall, it was the largest amount they’d ever intercepted. Although, since then they’d ‘redirected’ three more shipments that, slightly, exceeded that total.

Her personal fortune was something she didn’t want to consider. It did not equal what they’d ‘recovered’ on that day. Yet.

As for Beck’s Bold Businesses, it was growing at a rate that…

All of which meant Rebekah had more money available to her and Licht Gegen than she’d ever imagined. The outstanding part of the loan on her parent’s farm, when the Lord of Lorness’ goons had come to claim it, was barely 4,000 baden. Its initial total had only just exceeded 10,000.

Even seven years after meeting the swordsmith from Esthlanis, Licht Gegen’s primary need was weapons. Regular shipments of ‘farming equipment’ were coming in from him. But they needed more than just short swords and whatever third-hand items they could scrounge up.

That was why she was in Fairness Crossing, preparing to travel to Lexandria under a new alias, Tyrone Beecham. Contacts here in the south had been creating his presence, acting as his agents, and crafting a reputation for him as a shrewd, if uncouth, businessman for the last six moons.

Rebekah wasn’t entirely comfortable with how much foul language she needed to use in the role, but it had to be a stark contrast to her T’mas Bekh persona.

Why?

Her companies had regional offices in every major city in Freislicht, three more in Esthlanis, and one in Tarinland. That image of T’mas’ face was an all-too-common sight. Despite numerous attempts to change it, people liked the wretched thing.

Thus, Tyrone Beecham was ‘born’. Families who’d settled nearby, after leaving Frei Forest, had created his new wardrobe, obtained and refurbished a carriage, hired a driver, bought horses, and were supplying a dozen well-trained bodyguards.

Stroking a braided sideburn, she stepped onto the street for the first time as the elegantly dressed Tyrone. She noted the difference in the way passersby looked at her. They took in the silk cravat at her throat, the paired bejeweled daggers with worn handles on her belt, and the long leather surcoat that dragged the ground. Others noted the four identically dressed guards flanking her and moved out of her way. Only one or two truly observant people noted the two additional but not-similarly-dressed guards, one preceding, and one trailing in their wake.

It was time to make her first arms deal.