Post by King Laman II
I must recount a vexing turn of events—the cunning escape of Limhi’s Nephites from our grasp and the failure of our warriors to bring them back. Let this tale fuel our vigilance, for though we have been outwitted, our strength endures, and our will shall not falter.
For years, Limhi’s people toiled under our dominion, bound by the tributes my father’s treaty imposed and our warriors enforced. Their city, Lehi-Nephi, was a jewel we held tightly, its fields and flocks sustaining our prosperity. I trusted our guards to keep them cowed, their spirits bent beneath our watch. Yet, I confess, I underestimated their guile. Limhi, that quiet king, hid a serpent’s cunning behind his humble words, and his people proved more slippery than I deemed possible.
It began in whispers—rumors of unrest, of Nephites plotting in the shadows. I paid them little heed, for what could a subdued people do against our might? But one night, under a moon cloaked in clouds, they struck their blow. Limhi’s entire people—men, women, children, even their flocks—vanished from the city like smoke. No clash of swords, no cries of alarm; they slipped past our sentries, leaving empty homes and silent streets. When dawn broke and our warriors found the city deserted, my fury was matched only by my disbelief.
I rallied my swiftest trackers and strongest fighters, sending them in pursuit. The Nephites’ trail led north, toward the wilds where they thought to lose us. My warriors pressed hard, through tangled forests and across swollen rivers, certain we would overtake them. But Limhi’s people moved with unnatural speed, as if guided by some unseen hand. Their tracks grew faint, their paths cunningly disguised, and our scouts found only echoes of their passage. Days turned to weeks, and still, they eluded us, until at last, my captains returned, their heads low, admitting defeat.
I will not lie to you, my kin—this stings like a wound. Limhi’s escape is a slight to our pride, a crack in the wall of our dominion. I pace my halls, wondering how I failed to see their plan, how our grip loosened just enough for them to slip free. The Nephites may have fled, but they cannot run forever. Our lands are vast, our eyes many, and I will not rest until we know where they hide—be it Zarahemla or beyond.
