“Sit down,” Mother Rachel commanded.
Hannah knew the woman’s reputation for intimidating others. The rest of the consecrated brides fluttered out of her range like a flock of doves after a hawk lands in their midst. The girl wasn’t about to obey just because Mother Rachel felt like giving orders. Hannah marveled at her newfound bravery. Her exposure to the outside world had certainly changed her perspective. Even as a hostage, she refused to be cowed. She mentally enumerated her advantages: she had books to occupy her mind, friends outside who planned to rescue her, and the conviction that Abraham Metcalf must protect her so long as she remained his prime bargaining chip. The girl took her time walking back to her seat, showing no trace of nervousness. Instead of offering the comfortable armchair to her guest, she reclaimed it for herself, forcing Mother Rachel to find her own seating arrangement.
The diviner’s principal wife blinked in surprise at this tacit act of insubordination. She hesitated briefly before dragging one of the hard-bottomed dinette chairs across the room. Positioning it to face Hannah, she settled herself and peered at the girl. “Do you know why I’m here?”
Hannah shook her head, hoping she appeared suitably puzzled.
“I am here because our husband wishes it.”
The girl noted the words “our husband.” It seemed absurd that a woman in her seventies and a teenager should be sharing the same spouse or any spouse for that matter.
Mother Rachel continued. “Father Abraham has sent me to provide comfort during your time of affliction.”
This time Hannah didn’t need to mimic an expression of bafflement. She was genuinely flummoxed.
Interpreting the girl’s reaction correctly, the old woman gave a thin smile. “Our husband believes you will regain your voice more quickly in a peaceful environment with a female companion to provide emotional support.”
Hannah found herself wondering why the diviner thought his principal wife was the ideal candidate for the job.
Mother Rachel crossed her arms truculently. “While our husband is the wisest of men he has one weakness. We both know what that is, don’t we?”
The girl squinted at her, waiting for an explanation.
“Don’t pretend to be ignorant,” Mother Rachel countered. “Father Abraham has a blind spot when it comes to you.”
Hannah’s head jerked back in surprise. This conclusion was unexpected.
Perceiving her response, the matron pressed on. “I am astonished that this is news to you. All the faithful can see how he dotes on you. He allows you far too much leeway, in my opinion. I thank the Lord that He has shown me the truth of the situation and guided me to what must be done.” Mother Rachel paused and swiveled around in her seat, apparently looking for something. “Where is your Bible?” she demanded.
Hannah pointed to her nightstand. Every bed chamber in the compound was stocked with a copy of the Bible and the Nephilim Revelations of Jedediah Proctor.
Mother Rachel rose and retrieved the volume from the nightstand drawer. “We’ll begin with this,” she announced, resuming her seat.
For a fleeting moment, Hannah suspected the old woman was going to hit her with the book. Instead, she rested it on her lap and pursed her lips. “My husband’s fondness for you has clouded his judgment. He wishes me to indulge you, to cajole you out of your ailment with sympathy. I hardly think that is the proper method to employ. You need a firm hand to shake you back to reality and make you a useful member of this community once more. Above all, you need the word of God to remind you of your place in the grand design!”
The matron reached into her apron pocket for her reading glasses. She perched them on her nose and leafed through the Bible’s pages, muttering to herself until she found the passage she was looking for. “Here.” She tapped the open page for emphasis. “Right here in black and white. We are told that there is no evil in the world that compares to the evil of the female sex. From Ecclesiasticus 25:19: ‘All wickedness is but little to the wickedness of a woman: let the portion of a sinner fall upon her.’ And again, in Ecclesiasticus 42:13: ‘For from garments cometh a moth, and from women wickedness.’ And lastly in Ecclesiasticus 7:26: ‘And I find more bitter than death the woman, whose heart is snares and nets, and her hands as bands: whoso pleaseth God shall escape from her; but the sinner shall be taken by her.’”
Mother Rachel eyed Hannah over the rim of her spectacles. “And why has the Lord condemned us so harshly?”
She paused for emphasis, not really expecting a reply. “Because we lead good men astray, that’s why. When the serpent planned the fall of man, he didn’t tempt Adam directly. He chose Eve instead—a far easier target. Sadly, the pleasing shape of the weaker vessel gave her great power over her husband. While Adam might easily have resisted the blandishments of the serpent, he couldn’t resist the temptation of his own wife. Woman’s innate corruptibility and man’s vulnerability to her charms gave birth to the world of woe we all inhabit.”
Mother Rachel scowled at the girl. “As it was since the beginning of time, so it is now. My own husband, the prophet of the Blessed Nephilim, has sadly shown himself to be no stronger than any other man in this regard. The diviner’s weakness for you has made him putty in your hands. Now you seek to subvert the natural order of things and rule over him.”
Hannah was tempted to break her silence and point out that while Mother Rachel was busy lecturing her on the virtue of wifely obedience she herself was rebelling against Father Abraham’s express orders to treat Hannah kindly.
The
