October skies

He was dressed in ill-fitting clothes that appeared borrowed from another, better-nourished man, and with not a single possession in his hands. The Pilgrim, whoever he was, is a face this scribe will never forget.

When I asked this mysterious traveller where he was headed, his reply, dear reader, was one enigmatic word. A word that perhaps sums up the single-minded, dogged spirit and willpower of these brave, hardy folk.

He said to me, ‘Oregon.’

He then shuffled away from me, little more than a crow-scare in tattered clothes and not a single thing to call his own. I soon lost sight of him amongst the busy throng of traders and overlanders that fill our main thoroughfare on any given day of the week…

‘Oh my God,’ Rose whispered. ‘I think I’ve found him.’

CHAPTER 44

24 October, 1856

Preston turned to Vander. ‘You saw it?’

He nodded. ‘Yes I did, William.’

‘For all his dirty sins,’ he said, lowering his voice. Outside, Preston could hear the muted voices of his people. They were gathered around the men that had returned, hearing various versions of what had been discovered. Uneasy rumours would be spreading amongst them, the men scaring their wives, their wives terrifying their children.

He was relieved that only he and Eric from their party had gone inside and seen poor Saul’s body. To some degree, it was better that the awful things done to him were not common knowledge. As only he and Eric had seen, he could control what his people were allowed to know.

Preston clamped his lips tightly and swallowed. ‘Someone knows.’

Eric nodded, ashen faced. ‘My God! What if it’s not one of our people?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘What if we’re being punished?’ Eric’s voice trembled. ‘What if He’s angry with us, William?’

‘What we did was His will. It was all wrong, his Church, all wrong. Our founder took something sacred and made a mockery of it. Joseph Smith should never have been led to it. It was right that he was killed. That, Eric, that was God’s anger right there.’

‘But we took them. They were not given to us!’

‘No… if the Lord hadn’t wished for me to take them, I would not have them with me now.’ Preston turned and nodded at the metal chest. ‘They’re here with me because He wishes that to be so. And Joseph Smith is dead, beaten to death by a mob, his church split amongst greedy rivals. Again, that would not be so unless the Lord wished it.’

Vander looked unconvinced.

‘We are the light, Eric. The good. Be certain of that. If this was not what God wanted, we would have known about it a long time ago.’

‘Then who killed Saul?’

‘Someone who knows.’

‘But who, other than Dorothy?’

Preston sat down heavily, wincing from the sharp tug on his bound wounds. He cast his mind back to the night before last.

Dorothy comes to me, enraged and heartbroken.

‘You took me in when I had no one,’ she cries. ‘I abandoned my faith for you.’

‘Dorothy, listen to me-’

‘I gave you my heart, my soul… my body. I gave you my children.’

‘Please, listen to-’

‘We trusted you. We trusted your message from God. You told lies, William. You told us lies! You led us away from God. You’ve led us here to this forsaken place… me, my children, and all the others.’

‘Why are you saying these things to me, Dorothy?’

‘Because in your sleep, it came out. The truth. One night after the next, fever made you tell the truth. Fever pushed the truth out of you, as it pushed sour liquid from your wounds. You and Saul and Eric, the three of you… are evil!’

‘Whatever I must have said was feverish nonsense.’

Dorothy shakes her head. ‘No, I… I’ve suspected some of these things before. Even punished myself for letting the Devil put doubts in my head. But you… you are doing what you claim our founder did — taking the words of God and making them your own!’

‘Dorothy!’

‘Your words… not God’s!’

‘William?’

Preston looked up at Eric. ‘Yes?’

‘If she knew, because of what she heard you say in your sleep.. then who else might she have told?’

Preston shook his head. ‘I don’t know. Perhaps the important question should be who else might have heard me.’

‘Only Saul, Dorothy and myself sat with you.’ Vander turned to look at him. ‘And that doctor, Lambert.’

Preston took a deep breath and nodded slowly. ‘Yes… yes, he was with me a few times.’

Vander’s eyes widened. ‘Do you think he might have done this?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘But he would not know of your work. Our Book.’

Preston considered that for a moment. He had seen Lambert become close to Dorothy’s children over the last few months, particularly Samuel. The lad might have shared with Lambert what their mission was. He might have explained the Book of New Instruction. He might even have shown him a copy. It was possible that Dorothy went to Lambert and told him everything she suspected. But he couldn’t imagine the man killing with such ferocity and anger. He couldn’t imagine Lambert carving those letters into Hearst’s skin with the tip of a knife.

Preston looked up at Vander. ‘I sent Saul to reason with Dorothy not to upset the others with her doubts.’