“I was told—”
Brother Timothy interrupted. “You see, Sara seemed to be doing well, very well, and she isn’t coming to us as a mere follower. She’ll be filling the role of a wife of an Assemblyman, part of the chosen. Her success is paramount and, after what has happened in the past . . . we believed it was better to jump ahead and begin Sara’s training. Father Gabriel teaches that an idle mind is the devil’s playground. Keeping Sara occupied, engaged, and learning is—”
“Brother Jacob?” The entire room stopped—moving, breathing, everything—at the rare sound of Father Gabriel’s voice. He was often more of an observer of our meetings than a participant.
“Yes, Father Gabriel.” I turned respectfully toward the screen.
“I want to hear the particulars, not about what others are doing. Sara was given to you. You’ve been absent from us since her arrival and accident over a week ago until yesterday. Yesterday you pleaded the case for her nutrients. I see what’s happening. I want to hear it from you.”
He sees what’s happening? What does that mean?
My pulse quickened. “Father, what particulars?”
“Taking on a wife is a big responsibility. The Lord chose the church as his bride, and now your bride has arrived. It’s your responsibility to acclimate her. Tell us, how is it progressing?”
“I believe it’s progressing well. So far she doesn’t seem to have memories of her life in the dark. She’s nervous and scared, which is normal. The loss of sight, as well as her injuries, are keeping her dependent. I’m doing what I’ve told others to do, teaching her the rules, her role as my wife, and the restrictions she can expect, all the while convincing her this was, and has been, her life.” I took a breath. “Speaking of restrictions, I know her sight must be restricted until some of her injuries heal. However, I’d like to have the cast on her leg changed to one that would allow her to wa—”
“It’s not time!” Brother Timothy interjected.
“Brother Timothy.” Father Gabriel’s voice transcended the miles. “It wasn’t time for Sister Lilith to begin training either. Let Brother Jacob continue. And let me make myself clear: I don’t want history to repeat itself. The Eastern Light usually weeds out failures. Sara is at the Northern Light. We must all work toward her success.”
“Yes, Father,” Brother Timothy replied.
“Brother Jacob, tell us if there have been any problems.”
“Only one.” I swallowed. “Though Sara was forbidden to speak, yesterday she did.”
Murmurs came from around the table.
“What was your response?” Father Gabriel asked.
“I corrected her. I take my responsibility seriously. The Commission is ultimately responsible, but it’s my duty to teach, correct, and bring her into The Light.”
The room waited as Father Gabriel sat quietly, his fingers steepled before him, thinking and watching. His customary shirt and tie, without a suit coat, were a stark contrast to the cherry-paneled wall behind him.
“Yes,” Father Gabriel finally said. “Brother Timothy was right—most new followers don’t come into The Light as chosen. Sister Sara has already achieved a status most women never will. While this is unusual, thankfully, Brother Jacob, you have a better understanding of the acclimation protocol than the average follower. I’m pleased to learn that you’re compliant and capable of handling situations as they occur. I’m certain you’re aware of the consequences not only to Sara but to you should this indoctrination fail?”
“Yes, Father, I am,” I answered, steadfast.
“Brother Luke,” Father Gabriel continued. “Sister Sara’s continued treatment is under your supervision. You and Dr. Newton decide when it’s time for her cast to be changed. However, I have a few more questions for Brother Jacob.”
“Yes, Father?”
“Tell us how your wife responded when she learned of your control over her necessities: eating, using the restroom, sleeping, drinking, and hygiene.”
“She hasn’t fought my control. She’s acquiesced.”
“And when you corrected her? What did you do? How did she respond?”
I looked toward Brother Daniel. His expression instructed me to answer honestly. The lump in my throat grew, but I continued. “When she spoke, without permission, I utilized corporal punishment. I slapped her. It was a swift carriage of correction.”
“Acceptable,” Father Gabriel replied. “Go on.”
“I then required her to repeat her name and that we were wed.” Before anyone could speak, I added, “And she did. That was yesterday. This morning I discussed it with her further. Though she seems confused, I believe she’s a quick learner and is adapting.”
I wasn’t completely forthcoming—I didn’t tell them about her trembling or my affection—but I’d answered truthfully.
“Brother Jacob?” Brother Timothy’s voice dominated the room.