After talking a bit about the possibility of planning an escape, my father reported his conversation with Jared about hid guards and what just about happened with my mother. Actually, Father was not able to talk to Jared himself; apparently he was too busy to see his own father. So, he spoke with one of Jared’s ministers, one who oversaw the guards assigned to those of us in captivity. The minister laughed at my father. Then, as he saw the anger and disgust in my father’s eyes, he looked down, stopped his laughter and informed my father that he could not control all his guards, despite the agreement. My father could see in the minister’s eyes greedy lustfulness and a hint of pride for the guards who almost had their way with my mother.
The minister loosely assured my father that he would talk to the guards. My father did not trust his assurance and firmly informed him that if there were any other infractions by the guards, he would demand to discuss the issue with Jared.
After the unsuccessful conversation with Jared’s minister, my father felt that he needed to inform all in captivity to never leave women and girls alone. He sensed that would not be the last assault on our people. In fact, he wondered if the minister would slyly give permission to the guards to increase the torment our people. That was a major factor in my father agreeing that it was time to escape our captivity.
We spent some time talking about different ways to escape our captivity, none of which sounded good or right. My father decided that we needed to have a council with some of his most trusted advisors. He emphasized to us that we could not yet talk to anyone about wanting to make plans to escape. He realized that even though there were several hundred of us in captivity and we all wanted to be free, there may be a few who would not be trustworthy and would tell Jared’s guards about our plans.
We all agreed with my father, but everyone turned and looked at me with daring looks in their eyes. I wondered why the looks; after all, I was the one who was most determined to free us from captivity. My sister’s husband playfully rubbed his hand on my head, messing up my already messed up hair, and reminded me of some of my youthful foibles. I knew that I tended to become overly dramatic, energetic, and sometimes a bit reckless. They all laughed as I was pretty confident that they remembered some of my childishness pranks.
I assured my family that not one of them would be more committed to our escape than I would be. I understood that this was a seriously large responsibility and I would carefully keep our confidences.
The next day we arose early as the sun crested over the horizon. My mother still did not feel well but no one was willing to let her stay home alone; still feeling traumatized from the previous day’s events. My father decided that he would stay with her so we divided up his tasks, as well as mother’s tasks, and went about our day.
My father asked me, Coriantumr, my sisters and their husbands that if they saw a few certain individuals, men and women that my father implicitly trusted, to discretely invite them to come to our home that evening after the sun set. We were not to tell these individuals the purpose of the invitation except that my father wanted to have an informal get-together.
Although my mother continued to suffer considerable trauma from the previous day, my heart felt surprisingly light as I contemplated various ways we could escape our captivity. In fact, my heart felt so light that I began my crazy antics while hoeing weeds in the fields. Without thinking, I began to hoe with exaggerated motions, spewing up dirt everywhere and to everyone around me. I started singing at the top of my lungs, nonsensical songs that I created on the spot. It was all in fun; however, my sister’s husband yelled from across the field to remind me to settle down. I grinned at him, bowed in an elaborate and exaggerated manner, and put my finger to my mouth to signify to him that I remembered that I need to stay calm. Everyone around me, even those covered with dirt, laughed as they knew I could be quite playful at times. Actually, I believe, or want to believe, that many enjoy my playful antics; they made people smile, laugh, and momentarily forget the drudgery of our captive work.
We contacted those my father requested to contact. At sundown, two trusted advisors to my father, a healer, Coriantumr, Len, my other sister’s husband Daniel, my sisters Deborah and Neria, gathered in our small home. I have other brothers and sisters and their families that my father wanted to come, but he also knew that too many people at our house at one time would raise suspicions among the guards.
Being the righteous and God-fearing man that my father is, he started the meeting with a heart-felt prayer, pleading to God for help in our deliverance out of captivity. He recounted the experience with my mother and pled for protection for our people. After his prayer, a sense of extraordinary peace and calmness came over us. We felt the power of my father’s prayer and the power of God imparting his peace unto us.
The first topic that my father brought up was for those in the group to quietly inform everyone else to never leave women, girls, and children alone. He recounted his meeting with Jared’s minister and his feelings that the minister and Jared would not honestly honor the agreement to leave our women alone. My father desired to keep everyone as safe as possible.
We already had an effective communication system in place to quickly get messages to all our people. After discussing the merits of using that system to communicate this message, we decided to go ahead and use it. Daniel brought up that he believed that some of our people may be spies for Jared and his people. My father agreed with him but felt that this message was important to get out through our normal system. However, we would need to discover those among us who may be spying for Jared or may be defecting to his side.
My father next brought up the topic of our possible escape. He recalled his feeling of what happened to my mother the previous day and his concern that the abuse would get worse. Those who were not with us the previous day were quite surprised that my father would bring this topic up. I decided to speak up; even though I was the youngest of the group, I had their attention.
With passion, I courageously expressed to this group that I wanted to help my father regain his rightful place on his throne. I reminded them that all I had known was captivity and I was ready to become the person God intended me to become, not just some shabby, submissive slave. We all felt the power of God come into the room and the sweet whisperings of the spirit telling us that it was time to escape the chains of captivity that held us prisoners for years.
(To be continued…)