The Work and the Glory (408 page)

Now a murmur was rippling across the assembled men. Brutus, supposedly the closest and most trusted of Julius Caesar’s associates, had led those who thrust their daggers through Caesar.

Joseph straightened, his voice ringing with challenge. “Know this, brethren. All the enemies upon the face of the earth may roar and exert all their power to bring about my death, but they can accomplish nothing, unless . . .” He stopped and his voice rose sharply, sending a little chill racing up and down Benjamin’s back. “Unless they are helped by some who are among us. All the hue and cry of the chief priests and elders against the Savior could not bring down the wrath of the Jewish nation upon his head and cause his crucifixion, until Judas said unto them, ‘Whomsoever I shall kiss, he is the man.’ You remember that, and be on watch. Judas was one of the Twelve and dipped his hand with the Master in the dish. Yet it was through his treachery that the Savior was killed.”

He stopped again, looking slowly around the room. His words hung there, as though he had emblazoned them with fire on the wall.
Traitors in our midst. Brutus and Caesar. Judas. Treachery.
There was not a sound now, not even a breath taken. Slowly the fire in Joseph died and his shoulders slumped.

“Brethren, how it pains me that I must tell you of this, but it is something you must know. I shall say it as plainly as I know how.
Brethren, we have a Judas in our midst.
Part of your duty will be to see that this man, these men, are not able to work their will. That is your charge.”

“Easy,” Joshua called as he pulled on the rope looped around the large ice block. “Not too fast.”

Will stood up now, letting Savannah and little Charles give the block—easily four feet by four feet, and three to four inches thick—the last heave up onto the sleigh.

Joshua walked around, tying the rope down to the nubbing posts on each corner. He turned to Will. “You want to take this or do you want me to?”

“I’ll do it.”

“Can Charles and I ride on the ice, Papa?” Savannah said, her blue eyes peering out from beneath her woolen cap.

“Yes, Papa, please?” Charles piped in.

“It’s slippery, Savannah. Will you hold on tight to the ropes?”

“Yes, Papa.”

“I’ll go slow, Pa,” Will said.

“All right.” Joshua reached down and lifted his little son, a three-foot wad of padding in his winter clothing. He set him right on the center of the top block and made sure his hands had a good hold on the rope. Then up went Savannah beside him. “Now, hold on, Savannah. And watch Charles close.” Caroline would likely be very unhappy if she looked out the window and saw her two youngest riding atop the sleigh in this manner, but there really was very little danger. Even if they fell off, it was only about a three-foot drop to the snow.

Will climbed up and took the reins. He looked back once to make sure all was secure, then snapped the reins lightly. The horses leaned into their tugs and the sleigh moved away.

Joshua watched it for a moment, then went back down to the river. He picked up the long saw and walked out a few feet to where the water beneath the ice would be clear of reeds. He paused and looked up and down the river. For as far as he could see in either direction, men and boys were out cutting ice blocks. He raised his head and looked west. Across the river, the people from Montrose and Zarahemla were doing the same thing. Though later than usual, this was the first really hard freeze they had had, and people were anxious to replenish their supplies in the icehouses of the city.

As he lined up the saw blade with the previous cut and began a few preliminary strokes to start a clean track, he heard a sound behind him. He stopped and turned. A man had stepped out of the thicket of willows just down the bank from where Joshua’s team had been standing a few minutes before. It was barely nine o’clock and the morning sun was directly behind them, and so Joshua couldn’t see clearly who it was.

“Hey, Steed,” a voice called. “Can we have a word with you?”

He squinted a little, recognizing now Doctor Robert Foster. He grunted to himself, half frowning. Foster had been there that day when John C. Bennett had tried to convince Joshua to throw in with him. Later, as Bennett spiraled out of control, Foster had backed away, claiming that he had been duped. He had been disciplined by the Church but was now back in good favor, or so Joshua had heard.

“Yes, what is it?”

“We’d like to talk with you if we can.”

We?
That was twice he had used that word. Joshua peered more closely and now he saw other men partially hidden in the thicket. Foster was motioning for him to come over now, looking over his shoulder to see if anyone close by was paying them any attention.

Joshua hesitated for a moment, then laid the saw back down again. As he approached the man, Foster melted into the brush and Joshua had to go in after him. Once there, he understood why. There were five other men with him, standing around, skulking in the thick growth, staying out of sight. Four he knew well enough to call them by name. The fifth he recognized but knew only slightly. The first two were the Higbee brothers, Francis and Chauncey, who had also been there that day with Joshua and Bennett. According to what Carl had found out, these two had been right up to their necks in Bennett’s little scheme for sweet talking women into submitting to them. Their father, Judge Elias Higbee—who had died just the summer before—had been an honorable man and a close friend of Joseph Smith’s, but these two . . . Joshua looked away. The other two were brothers as well, but this was a surprise for Joshua to see them associating with Foster and the Higbees. William Law was Second Counselor in the First Presidency. He had replaced Hyrum when Joseph had called Hyrum to be Patriarch to the Church, whatever that happened to be. His brother, Wilson Law, had replaced John C. Bennett as major general in the Nauvoo Legion and was second in command only to Joseph.

The fifth man, William Marks, was also a Church leader. Caroline talked about him sometimes. He was president of the Nauvoo Stake, a geographical division within the Church. That didn’t put him in the general Church leadership, but just beneath it.

Foster seemed to read Joshua’s thoughts. “I brought these men with me so you’d know what kind of support we have, Steed. There’s also about two hundred more of us. Other members of the stake presidency, high council members, officers in the legion, a member of the city council.”

“Support for what?” Joshua asked bluntly. He knew what had been going on in the city the last few days. The previous evening, during their traditional Sunday night supper at his father’s house, Benjamin had given the family a full report.

“Look, Steed,” Foster said, “I’ll come straight to the point. I understand you and your son are leaving tomorrow to go back up to Wisconsin and check on your lumber operation. We wanted to talk to you before you left.”

“Then talk.”

“As you know, for a long time a group of us have suspected that Joseph Smith has fallen from grace, that he no longer speaks for God, that he is a fallen prophet.”

“Foster,” Joshua cut in, “by my definition you can only be a fallen prophet if you’ve been a true one. I don’t believe Joseph Smith is a prophet. I never have. I really don’t give one tinker’s damn for the Church and all their foolishness, so if you’re here to enlist my help in that, you’re wasting your time.”

Chauncey Higbee’s face darkened and he muttered something to his brother, but Foster went on blandly, undisturbed by Joshua’s sharpness.

“I am well aware of your feelings, Steed, but I would submit that you do have an interest in seeing Joseph discredited. I think it might go some way in influencing your wife and children in their feelings toward the Church.”

“You leave my wife and children out of this,” Joshua growled, but his eyes belied his words. This could be of interest to him after all.

Foster saw it and went on smoothly, and more confidently now. “We are making plans to expose Joseph. When the time comes, we could use the support of influential nonmembers. A man of your reputation and position could be very . . . umm, how shall I say it? . . . helpful.”

“I’m not sure of that,” Joshua said, “but I’m listening. Tell me what you are thinking.”

Now William Marks stepped forward. He was a smaller man, with a pinched face and hard, narrow eyes. “We need you to tell people that our lives are in danger, that Joseph Smith is trying to have us assassinated.”

Foster swung on Marks, cursing, but the damage had been done. Joshua laughed right out loud. “You think you’re in danger because a few policemen built a fire outside your house trying to keep warm?”

“It was a warning,” Marks half snarled. “I know the police are denying any such intent, but I’m telling you, it was a warning to me.”

“Shut up, Marks,” Foster hissed. “We’re not here for that.” Marks flushed angrily, but Foster swung back to Joshua. “You know about all of this?” Then he snapped his fingers. “Of course, your father is on the city council.”

“Yes, that’s right. He told me all about it last night.” Joseph’s call to the police to watch for a traitor in their midst had immediately triggered a surprising reaction among Joseph’s enemies. Evidently one of the policemen had guessed who the traitor might be and began telling people about it. In a matter of hours, surmise had become truth, and sympathizers were warning the Fosters, the Laws, and Marks that not only was Joseph on to them, but he had also ordered their assassination.

“You don’t believe there’s anything to it, do you?” Wilson Law sneered.

Joshua snorted in disgust. “A couple of policemen build a small fire outside one of your houses and you go all weak in the knees and are sure your life is forfeit? No, I don’t believe that.”

Marks was sputtering now. “That’s not true! They were going to kill me.” Chauncey Higbee stepped in front of him, his face a mask of anger now. He grabbed Foster’s arm. “I told you he wouldn’t listen. Let’s get out of here.”

Foster shook him off. “Just shut up, all of you.” He whirled back around. “You think what you like, Steed, but I’m telling you, Joseph Smith is trying to silence us. He won’t succeed. There are too many of us now. We have close to two hundred in the Church who are with us in this. We know too much. We are too great a threat to him. And if we can’t stop this abuse of power, then your life is in danger too. How long do you think they’ll tolerate non-Mormons among them? They’re after ultimate power, Steed.
Ultimate power.
And that includes power over life and death.”

“I’m terrified,” Joshua said dryly.

“Maybe that’s why you gave your wife and kids permission to be baptized,” William Law sneered. “That way you’ll be sure to be safe.”

William Law was a large and powerful man, but that never entered Joshua’s mind. His hand shot out and grabbed the man’s shirtfront. He yanked him in close, and shoved his face up next to his. “What did you say?” he asked in a menacing whisper.

Foster leaped forward, shoving himself between Joshua and Law. “He didn’t mean that, Steed. He’s just upset.” He jerked around. “Did you, William?”

Law was furious, but he finally shook his head. “I’m sorry, Steed. It was a foolish thing to say.”

Joshua let him go and stepped back, still breathing hard. “Let me tell you something, Foster. You know how I feel about the Church. But you’re making a big mistake if you underestimate Joseph Smith. I think he’s a fool and a charlatan when it comes to religion, but he’s also a strong leader. He’s a good man, smart as any man I know. He’s kind and caring. He knows his people.”

Chauncey Higbee was gaping at him. “You sound like one of his followers.”

“I’ll tell you this,” Joshua shot right back. “If it weren’t for this whole thing on religion and plural marriage, I could be Joseph Smith’s best friend. I admire the man. Not the prophet, but the man. Only a fool can’t see Joseph Smith for what he is—a powerful leader, a brilliant strategist. Come on!” he said in disgust. “Do you think he’s come to all of this”—he waved an arm in the direction of Nauvoo—“by being a fool? If you don’t take the measure of your enemy, you’re going to have your tail whipped.”

“We know what we’re up against,” Foster muttered sullenly.

“Do you? Shall I tell you something, Foster? Something you don’t know?”

“What?”

“You know what Joseph called you people when he gave the policemen their charge from the mayor? He called you ‘dough heads.’ Do you want to know why? Because at that point he didn’t know who the traitors were. He had no names.”

At the flash of astonishment in Foster’s eyes, Joshua laughed contemptuously. “That’s right. Rockwell was told that someone here was trying to betray Joseph, but . . .” He paused for effect. “He didn’t get any names.”

“Or so he says,” Foster muttered.

“You want to know what Joseph is saying now, after your friends here started bawling to the city council that they had been unjustly accused and that their lives were in danger?” Joshua said, boring in.

“What?” It came out with complete insolence.

“Joseph’s asking questions like this. ‘Why is it when I say we have a traitor in our midst, but name no one, William Law and William Marks start squealing like pigs in a panic?’ In fact, here’s a direct quote from Joseph, according to my father. ‘Is it that the wicked flee when no man pursueth? Could it be that it is the hit bird that always flutters?’ ”

Joshua hooted derisively. “Talk about dough heads! At first no one wanted to believe Rockwell’s report that someone in the highest councils was betraying Joseph. It was too wild. Too improbable. And now? You have managed to convince the whole city that it’s true. Well done, I say! Well done!”

“Listen, you—”

Joshua’s face was a cold mask now. “No, you listen. I’m not sure I’d want to be part of this even if I thought you could succeed, but I always make it a rule of thumb to stay away from fools.” With that, he spun on his heel and walked out of the trees.

Francis Higbee started to swear loudly, hoping Joshua would hear him. Chauncey gave one expletive and spun around. He moved away in the opposite direction, thoroughly disgusted with the whole farcical situation. But Foster ignored them both. He was still staring at Joshua’s disappearing figure. The two Law brothers came forward to stand beside him.