ENSLAVED

PART ONE

Chapter One

Huddled beneath an expanse of acacia bushes about 100 feet outside the village, Amahle lay as still as possible, holding her newborn close to keep her quiet. Her older children understood what was happening and kept their eyes closed as the Hunters came near their hiding spot. After their father was taken she had schooled them religiously on staying safe and created this hideaway by digging out a space under the foliage where they could be comfortable until the danger had passed. Sadly, she judged by the sounds around them that some of her tribe had been found and were being trussed up to travel through the jungle, never to be seen again. She knew too well how the Hunters were alert to even the slightest noise or change, and her heart began to race as her thoughts shifted to that other day. She snapped herself out of the memories as one of the Hunters came closer, then stopped. No! Amahle thought, they had heard her sniffle! She looked over at her children and saw them looking back at her in pure terror, and she slowly closed her eyes again, choking back her tears of frustration and mounting horror, hoping they would do the same, praying the Hunter would pass them by…

When she came to, Amahle was stumbling in the trusses with many of her tribe mates, getting poked and prodded to wake up and take her share of the weight. Her feet started to shuffle automatically and she considered the scene that confronted her with a worsening fear and an intensifying pain in the back of her head. Gazing wildly around while trying to make sense of it all, she suddenly realized she couldn’t see her children anywhere and looked down at her empty breast for the baby that should have been there. Crying out, Amahle begged anyone listening if they knew anything, sobbing and nearly falling down as she realized why they weren’t answering her, why they couldn’t tell her. One of the Hunters snorted and told her “Whitey don’t need your babies” and the others laughed with him as if it was a big joke - until it was cut short by the sound of her keening and wailing into the skies. The women around her tried to quiet her down but she refused to be consoled, and finally her crying was reduced to small hic-cupping sobs, then she fell silent.

At nightfall they made a camp of sorts and were allowed to sit, albeit in the trusses that bound them, looking like a caterpillar of people. One of their captors brought around a water bottle that was exquisitely painted to resemble a Bird of Paradise flower, which grew around her village, and gave them each a small drink while another was giving them some kind of elk meat that was dried and tasted like dust in her mouth. It didn’t matter though; nothing else mattered anymore but finding her children or learning of their fates. After a while Amahle fell into a fitful sleep and sagged back into the woman behind her, whose knees were up and poked her in the back, waking her up again. This continued throughout the night and after another drink of water and the same tasteless meat in the morning they were allowed to use the bathroom as a group, right where they stood - and without even covering it up they were off again on a journey that seemed to last a lifetime of days just like the last one.

The sameness of days and the inability to get a good night's sleep, combined with an inadequate diet had reduced them - even Amahle - to human robots doing only what they were told, questioning nothing, just silently trudging along with no hopes or thoughts of the future. They were completely resigned to whatever fate awaited them now, and simply put one foot in front of another until told to stop. They even eliminated on command. One day they started to hear strange noises in the distance, which became clearer and louder until after a few days they came to Cape Town, the English colony and pride of the British Empire. The sites, smells and clamor of a city was beyond any of their experiences and was enough to bring them out of the stupor of enslavement momentarily, and they looked around at their surroundings for the first time in weeks and got their first glimpse of the white men who would soon be their new owners.

The Hunters brought them to the harbor where the leader met with a scrawny little man of indeterminate age and origin who shuffled ahead as their captives brought up the rear to keep anyone from escaping, as unlikely as that was. They were allowed to have a drink of water and some more of the tasteless meat while waiting, for what they didn’t know. The short conversation between their captors and the other man were muffled by all the noise that was going on around them in the city. They gestured towards the prisoners and then to a small ship, and soon the Hunters led them to a ramp and made them go up. Everywhere they looked there was some activity happening, and the noise was deafening.

Amahle couldn’t believe they could hear each other over the din, but she had little time to contemplate this phenomenon before they were led down into the belly of the vessel. She couldn’t see anything at first and just followed blindly until her eyes adjusted to the low light below deck. She began to see others like her and her tribe mates shackled to a cross beam of the ship and were slumped along and crammed in tight. Many of them moaned in pain, either physical or mental anguish. It smelled of unwashed bodies who were wallowing in their own feces and urine. She started gagging involuntarily and lost the small bit of food and water in her belly, and then the smell of vomit mingled with the other odors and she nearly retched up again. If that wasn’t enough the majority of those she came on with had the same reaction and they were now tramping through the muck.

Soon they were brought to a place that was mostly empty and they were released one at a time from their trusses and fastened to the ship like the others. Amahle felt relief at first to be off of her feet, but soon found the ship bottom to be anything but comfortable.There was no standing up in here though, not even enough chain to move away from your eliminations, and that of your neighbors. Feeling sicker than ever, and weak from exhaustion and malnutrition, she simply collapsed and fell unconscious for hours. When she awoke Amahle felt sick again, but she managed to keep from puking this time. She surmised that during her sleep she had become more used to the hodge podge of noises and smells surrounding her. Testing her voice, she asked the woman on her right what was happening, but her answer was just a shrug. Looking around her then, it appeared that every shackle had someone in it, all of them looking like she was feeling. Any thoughts she had once had of finding her children had long since been torn away with each mile they went away from the village. She only prayed that somehow they had survived and would be able to find a way to keep on surviving, and escape the dark, unknown future she now faced.

There had been a noticeable swaying of the ship as it sat in harbor, but soon it was evident that there was something different. The small ship was moving in the water, and the waves were getting bigger and more turbulent. The tiny spots of light that were oil lanterns hung in the rafters every twenty feet were rocking around so much she feared the flames would catch them on fire. She found herself watching the lights dancing around as if mesmerized, taking her mind off of the current situation. They had enough chain to move their arms, but their feet were given only about a foot of space to move in. A nasty man whose face had scars running down it and a patch over one eye and who smelled somehow worse than their surroundings would bring them food and water once a day. Amahle had taken a piece of what remained of her once beautiful clothes and made a packet of sorts to store what she didn’t eat right away for later. Her only thoughts for the future now was that it be on dry land, because she was more than sick of feeling so nauseated all the time.

Weeks later she got her wish, and Amahle felt a tiny glimmer of hope after all this time as they were being taken off the ship. There was a structure of some sort where she saw others like her, but from different tribes, most of whom she could not identify - mostly because they had all been stripped of anything that had once identified them. They were in fact naked and tied up in lines, which were leading up to the structure she had noticed. In front of and below them were a sea of white faces looking up at them, pointing to various ones and yelling at each other.

Then the person they had pointed at was led out of the line and given to one of the white-faced people on the ground, only to be led away again to a group of others like them. In the distance there were strange contraptions that were loading up similar groups and taking them away. Amahle began to understand that her future hadn’t changed for the better after all.

Chapter Two

Standing out even in a sea of similar faces, Jackson Wellington Burgess III - the richest man in Virginia as well as the governor - was barely able to stand the intrepid heat of this land. The only reason he had come here today at all was the need for financial acuity, and he didn’t trust anyone else to find good stock at a price he was willing to convey. Only his being here in person would assure him that. His man Talbert (or Bert, as the slaves called him) was standing leisurely at his side just as cool as a cucumber, not a drip of sweat. He on the other hand could wring the salty brine out of his clothes, and pour it from his shoes. He mopped his face for what must have been the hundredth time; his handkerchief had never gotten such a workout, not to mention his hands were sore from wringing it out so many times - dreadful weather! He was really beginning to wish he had sent his nephew William; he could picture himself sitting on the veranda sipping a luscious, iced mint tea…which was probably where his nephew was right now.

Talbert was telling him something so he tried to pay attention in this blathering throng, but all he caught was the last word, “...stunning!”. He glanced over to see him gazing at the podium, enthralled, so he followed his gaze and beheld the most amazing creature that God had surely ever made. He really couldn’t see much other than her form; she had her head cast down to let her hair cover her breasts and body, and was looking directly at her feet. But it was that humility, that innocence and purity that made her stand out. He could not tear his eyes from her and stood there as if in a daze.

Talbert tried to get his attention and ascertain whether to begin a transaction for her, but his master’s rapt attention told him all that was needed. He slipped away without Jackson even noticing he had gone. Next thing he knew, Talbert was standing next to him, saying “She is yours, Sir”. Jackson’s breath ripped out of his chest; he hadn’t even known he had been holding it until now. He turned to his servant and smiled, almost in gratitude - almost. Mentally Shaking himself at the idea, he was turning away from the auction when Talbert asked, “Sir, don’t we want some good men as well?” He responded “Of course, of course!”, but he thought, ‘I had better not go home without them after the fuss of having to be here in person!’ So he turned back around and bade his time by picking out the best of the men and a few more women to round it out. They could always use more help in the kitchens and laundry, which made his wife happy. And he would do anything to keep her happy. God forbid her father should think otherwise! Of course he was capable of repaying her dowry, but he would be damned if he wanted to. With that in mind, he sent Talbert into town to pick up the new material she had ordered for gowns so he would be sure not to forget that, of all things. He wished to avoid her tongue at all costs; let her lash the servants with it if she must, but By God he’d had his share of it.

Turning on his heel he nearly ran over a notable citizen, hurriedly apologized (much to the surprise of the victim), and walked as fast as he could to the seller's accountant to pay for today's purchase. He asked for the price, nearly forgetting to finesse the sale and work out a more equitable agreement - for himself, of course. He then told the handlers to take his new slaves to his carriage and wagon, and gave them an extra penny to be quick about it. He thought again about the Amazon treasure he was taking home; but not to be a slave, no, he had other plans for her. Yes, indeed. Whistling, he set out towards his waiting bounty and packages in hand, Talbert fell in beside him.

As they approached the set-up, Talbert opened the carriage doors and held them for his master, then closed and fastened them when he was comfortably seated and had deposited his wife’s things safely. He then went to the back and checked on everyone, saying some kind words in the various languages he had picked up. Some of them appeared to understand at least some of it and murmured back, which would make things easier once they got to the plantation and they were sent to wherever the master or mistress needed or wanted them. He gave The Woman his outer jacket and she immediately took it and covered herself, saying ‘thank you’ in her native tongue, all without looking at him. He smiled and told her “You are welcome” in Zulu, and then she glanced up at him in surprise and sincere gratitude. In that moment he fell hopelessly, completely in love with her even as he realized she could never be his. He turned slowly away and took his station at the reins, put on his riding hat and headed them towards their new home, as his heart broke into a million pieces.

Sitting in the cabin of his grand carriage, Jackson now had some idle time to consider his situation with a little more clarity, and glancing across the gangway to the other bench, his wife’s bundle was looking at him in disdain. What on Earth was he even thinking about? There would be pure Hell to pay if she ever found out he had a mistress, especially a slave woman. Dear God, he could lose everything he had worked his whole life for, and he hadn’t even seen this woman’s face. For all he knew she could be plain, hideous, toothless and bad tempered to boot. But in his heart he knew better. Now, where was he going to keep her? That was the tough question. He pondered it on the way home, having no clearer idea when they arrived.

As he stepped out he quietly told Talbert to have her taken to the kitchen and put her in Maggie the cook’s capable hands. Talbert nodded and said in a low voice, “ Don’t forget My Lady’s packages, sir” as he went back into the cabin and fetched them,then handed them to his master. Striding towards the house, Jackson thought how pleased he was to have such a servant, and not for the first time he congratulated himself on being such a keen master. Coming through the great doors he was met by the butler, Joseph, who took his packages and set them on a nearby table. He handed Joseph his waist coat and told him to have it laundered and to send his personal servant to draw a bath and fetch the rest of his clothes. Joseph nodded, and Jackson went upstairs to get ready for a much needed bathing. His wife wouldn’t see him until he did, nor would he be allowed to sit at the dining table, which time was nearing and his stomach was growling.

He started peeling off the rest of his clothes as soon as he entered his suite, putting his personal belongings in a heap on the dressing table knowing that Alfred would take care of them when he gathered his clean clothes. He got into the tub and lay back, even though there wasn’t any water in it yet, and let the coolness of the metal take the heat out of his body and was quite ready for some good hot water when it came soon after. As usual Maggie had plenty of water ready and a line of slaves brought in pot after pot until it was up to his neck. Alfred put some salts and lavender flowers and left him to soak as he went to lay out his master’s fresh clothes and clean up the pile of belongings on the dressing table.

Jackson luxuriated in the bath until the water had gone lukewarm and his body was as wrinkled as a raisin, letting his mind wander and feeling his muscles loosen and relax. He called for Alfred, who was there immediately with a pile of thick towels which he used to thoroughly dry off - with Alfred’s help, of course, who proceeded to assist his master in getting dressed for dinner. Laid out in order of donning were a complete set of clean clothes, from undergarments to a new waistcoat. Starting with a fresh pair of white cotton boxer-like underwear, he then put on an undershirt of the same material, white silk stockings, white neck frill, silk overshirt, blue silk short pants, black buckled shoes and lastly a blue silk waistcoat, which had just come in a ship from England last week. He declined a wig and had Alfred pull his hair back and tie it with a black silk ascot to match his hair. He did a pirouette and asked for Alfred’s opinion, knowing full well that even if he looked like a pile of dung he would tell him he looked ‘very good, sir’. That was fine, because he knew for a fact that he could turn an eye, and with a smile he headed for the parlor to find Elizabeth and have a drink before dining.

All in all, Jackson was feeling great and looking fine and he smiled as he greeted his lovely wife, giving her a kiss on the cheek she turned to him. This was her custom, and yet she blamed him for the lack of children in their marriage, he thought. Elizabeth was telling him about a party she was organizing for his nephew as a way for him to meet some eligible young women from around the area. She was determined to find him someone to marry so she could have some babies around the house, but he was just as determined to remain single. No wonder he stayed out of the house as much as possible! William entered the parlor and had a drink with them, telling his uncle about his latest conquest and making Elizabeth blanche and frown at him in disgust. Then she smiled at him and told him about the gala she was planning for him, to which he shrugged indifferently. It was all Jackson could do not to laugh at this interaction, and thankfully a servant came to let them know dinner was ready and held the dining room door open for them.

His wife dominated the conversation during dinner as usual, which was just fine with the men. They nodded and made assenting sounds while they tried not to wolf down the food that was set in front of them in a succession of dishes from appertifs to a grand main course of prime rib from their butchery and finally fresh fruit pies and custard. They retired to the parlor for a cup of cognac to finish off the delightful meal and let it settle. Jackson felt like he could burst and at the same time felt completely satisfied. He smiled indulgently at his wife and let her know he had brought her packages home, to which she inclined her head slightly with no change in her countenance and said in a condescending tone, “Of course”, successfully wiping the smile and any thoughts of intimacy he might have out of his mind instantly.

Jackson had another cognac before he excused himself and retired to his suite to once again examine his relationship with his wife and what had caused its failure, only to surmise as he often did that he hadn’t a clue as to what or why it had happened. He disrobed with the help of Alfred, who carefully folded and hung his clothes up for his master, and Jackson crawled into the down bed to stretch his feet towards the heated brick and pulled his thick covers up to his chin. The fireplace had been lit an hour ago to give it time to warm his bedroom, and with the flames dancing on the ceiling Jackson slipped into a deep sleep in which he dreamt of African beauties dancing around a fire while he lounged on a bed and watched them with a lazy smile on his face and a drink in his hand.

Chapter Three

Talbert turned to the people who were in the flat transport wagon that hitched to the carriage and asked them to disembark, helping the women get down and keeping them apart from the men. He called to the slave master Malcolm who was waiting in his office on the other side of the big circular driveway, near to the rows of slave houses that were behind him and stretched on for around half a mile, spreading out on either side of a dirt road. He approached the wagon and Talbert and he exchanged greetings, which as usual when addressing Malcolm was short and to the point. Malcolm took charge of the male slaves and two of the women that were handed over to him, nodding to Talbert as he led them towards what would become their new homes.

Now in charge of only three women, Talbert led them to the back of the house where the kitchens and house slave quarters were located. The smells of cooking and baking came wafting around the corner as they approached, and Maggie the cook came out to meet them. Her hair was up in a bright yellow scarf, but it wasn’t enough to keep some of her hair from spilling out here and there in tight black tendrils. Her dress was made from the same material and she was wearing a red and yellow patterned apron over it, which she was wiping her hands on as she neared them with a huge smile on her face. Talbert smiled back at her and in a low voice, explained what the master had in mind for these particular slaves. Maggie handed him a packet of delicious smells that he tucked into his pocket then she shook her head and muttering to herself, looked them over, saying “I surely do understand, Mr. Bert, I surely do” and shaking her head again she spoke quietly to the women in her native tongue, which made them bring up their heads in pleasant surprise, even if they didn’t fully understand what she was saying. Now that she had their attention Maggie led them away into the house, still talking to them and finding out more about them on the way, and giving them insight into what their new lives might entail.

Talbert pulled the packet of food out as soon as he turned back around and began to eat the sandwich Maggie had given him. He tasted roast beef with homemade stone-ground mustard sauce and horseradish on thick slices of fresh homemade bread, still warm with a nice crust and soft in the middle. He hadn’t eaten since having breakfast this morning so it went down fast, and he was licking his fingers as he came to the carriage. He drove to the big stables which were to the back and right of the kitchens, then unhitched the horses, led them inside and took their rigging off, which he hung up on large hooks that stuck out of the wall across from the stalls. The horses stood and waited for him, having seen this routine many times, and went obediently into their stables when he opened the doors to eat their oats and alfalfa and drink from a trough of cool clean water, then rest for the night. Talbert patted down and talked to them, blowing out the lanterns before leaving and closing the doors.

Since the horses were put up Talbert unhitched the wagon from the carriage and parked it over beside the stable, leaving the carriage out in front and ready for whatever Master Jackson had in his mind to do. He headed into the house to relax in his room, going through the main kitchen in hopes of getting another sandwich from Maggie. That was one thing about living in the main house, she always cooked enough for he and the others to have some and tonight was no exception. She handed him a plate full of leftovers from the main table for which he gratefully thanked her as he went down the left hallway to his room, the second to last one on the right. If he continued on past his room the hallway led to the front entrance, which was very handy when he met up with Jackson in the mornings.

Talbert sat down at the small desk the mistress had given to him to eat his meal, which was heaped up on his plate. Looking at it he found himself wondering if he could finish it but he was soon sopping up the last little bit and wiping the plate clean with a sliver of bread. Letting out a magnificent belch, Talbert put the plate and flatware outside of his door for the maids to pick up in the morning. He then pulled out his journal and made his daily entry, in which he kept track of the time he had left to work here before he could have a normal life somewhere far away from here and the madness of owning people. Sometimes Talbert wasn’t sure he would make it for seven years and regretted having come here at all. Tonight was one of them and he felt torn in several directions at once, but only one way was available to him if he wanted to avoid being a fugitive. He had been on the run before and hadn’t the least desire to ever do that again; he had become accustomed to having regular home cooked meals and a private place to call his own.

Talbert went down the hallway back towards the kitchen but stopped short at another door on his right and knocked; when there was no answer he went in and made use of the toilet, which consisted of a chamber pot underneath a wooden bench with a hole cut out. Thankfully it was well sanded and rounded out to be halfway comfortable, especially when compared to no bathroom at all or squatting over a bare pot. He then washed up in the basin that Maggie had filled with hot water not long ago (bless her soul), dried off and wrapped up in the soft towel she’d left for him and carried his dirty clothes back to his room. A full bath would have been nicer, but they only got one a week because it took so much of the servant’s time, which would be better spent doing chores for the master and lady of the house.

Knowing he should feel grateful for the life he was living, Talbert still held fast to the memories of a much simpler and happier life he had shared with his wife Colleen and their little boy, Seamus who would be nearing his fourth birthday now He longed to be there to watch his son grow into a fine man one day long in the future. With tears gathering in his eyes, he wrote a bit to them as was his habit, sending off a letter once a month. She never wrote him back and one day he prayed his wife could find it in her heart to forgive him for everything that had happened, yet he wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t. Talbert knew his offenses were not easily overlooked, he himself wrestled with the fact that he had been so readily coerced into committing such acts and every day vowed with all his might that it should never happen again.

As he drifted to sleep, Talbert found himself in a crowded city, the smells and sounds coming to him from his past and adding to the realism of his dreams. He was surrounded by people and places he had never seen but he felt a twinge of deja vu, although it was unlike any place he had ever seen, and everywhere he looked there was something unusual going on. A boy was selling newspapers on the corner and Talbert approached him and asked to buy one, absently handing him the correct change. The boy was staring at him, so he turned around and walked to a bench some ways down the crowded street and sat down to read the paper. As he opened to the front page he saw himself looking back at him, and in the picture he appeared to be slumped in a strange looking chair with leather clasps that held his hands and feet in place. Chills ran down his spine as he realized that the man in the picture was dead, there was no life in the eyes that stared at him. Looking furtively around him for a place to hide, Talbert found himself surrounded by people who were pointing to the picture of him in the paper, then they started to pull at his clothes and before he knew it he was being suffocated under a huge pile of humans who apparently wanted him dead - again.

Waking up in a sweat and trying to shake off the feeling of being smothered, he discovered his jacket on the chair by his desk with his breakfast. He had forgotten that he loaned it to the woman yesterday, and was a little sad to get it back. He picked it up and smelled it, hoping for a hint that she had worn it but he couldn’t find any. Sighing, he figured he had better tuck into his breakfast before he was summoned because the days could be long. It turned out to be one of the last thoughts he’d have for himself that day and many more to come as he helped Jackson build a safe little nest for the new woman in his life, and therefore Talbert’s.

Chapter Four

Malcolm took life very seriously, and there was no hint of humor in him whatsoever. He’d grown up in Ireland and his parents had not only embraced Christianity, they exemplified it in their daily lives; his father was a deacon at their local church, he took it very seriously and studied the Bible in the evenings as he sat in a rocking chair by the fire, and it was his habit to work on a sermon just in case he was called to preach so Malcolm was exposed to religion both at home and at church. He felt a calling to spread the Word of God to other parts of the world, and when he learned of wealthy families going to America advertising for help, he left home and went to England in search of a new life. He walked a good deal of his journey after he set foot on the ‘big’ island, with a ride here and there from farmers or traveling merchants. He would sleep on the side of the road he was on and eat whatever he could find, likening himself to John the Baptist, but stopping short of eating locusts and honey. When he reached a port and found employment Malcolm was wizened if not exactly mature, his body was honed into a compact machine and he was ready to be a servant of God.

After he had accepted a two year position with Jackson Burgess and was settled on board with the family, all their belongings and an incredible number of servants he started to realize that his life would be very different than he had envisioned. He wasn’t even yet certain precisely what he would be doing once they reached the new world aside from helping to get everything up and running, whatever that meant. Malcolm was free to do as he wished during the trip overseas, and he used the time to study his worn out Bible as best he could. He practically had it memorized anyway, but sometimes he’d find new meaning in things and the more he read and prayed the more he felt uplifted and filled with Godliness.

When they were about two days away from their destination Jackson sought Malcolm out and sat with him and discussed his future on the plantation when it was completed, which should be close enough now for them to get started almost as soon as they landed. Jackson told him about the whole setup and Malcolm’s place in it, having taken note that he was a righteous man. He offered to build a chapel on the grounds so that Malcolm would have a place to lead worship service and provide baptisms by water for the servants and slaves, and to let Malcolm have control of the slaves they would be buying. All he could do was to nod his head at each of these revelations since it was spinning with so many wondrous thoughts, firmly believing that it was all God’s will that had brought him to this place where he could live out his dream of shepherding a flock.

Thinking back, he knew he had been very naive after finding out that his flock spoke a variety of languages, and none of them English. So his first job was to teach them to understand and speak it in order for them to even be able to follow orders, let alone learn about God and His will for them. Having nobody else to call on, Malcolm had done a lot of praying and fasting looking for answers and guidance. He was able to discern the ones who were ‘in charge’ of their little herds and these were the ones he took aside and instructed, leaving it to them to teach the rest. It was a good system and now he didn’t have to do anything, they just taught the new ones as they came in.

That wouldn’t help him with this group right now, so he led the way and used gestures to show them where they were being met and further dispersed. The chapel had been built at the end of a row of little houses that were lined up on either side of the dirt path they were walking down, and in the middle was a small clearing with a post in the middle, which had two leather straps hanging from the top. The ground around showed evidence of many people having been there and a struggle had ensued, and it was in fact, the whipping post for those individuals who were rebellious and couldn’t be controlled otherwise. Malcolm took them right through it and down a few houses to one on the right where an older black woman was standing out front, waiting for them. She quietly spoke as she guided them with a comforting hand on their elbow as they went in, where others like her were waiting for them inside. Each one took a new slave and led them away to other houses, where they would become members and eventually workers in the fields.

At this point Malcolm had turned back towards his office to make note in his records of the new arrivals age and gender. He felt that they were going to be fairly easy to assimilate into life on the plantation; this group must be from the New Indian slave runners because they always made sure their cargo was ready to go, doing what they’re told and happy to be away from their captors. He had wondered in the beginning how they accomplished it, but he really didn’t want to know. Some things were better left alone, and he’d learned the hard way after accidentally stumbling upon what he thougth was an actual murder in progress. He had simply let instinct take over and had run at the man who was wielding a knife and seemingly attempting to use it against what he thought was an unarmed lady, only to trip over her purse which sent him hurling into the man’s legs. As the man fell, his arms went out automatically and the one holding the knife cut her leg and she shot him with a gun she’d been hiding behind her parasol, as she had apparently been planning to do in the first place. Then she turned towards him, prepared to shoot him as well but he had started running the moment the man had hit the ground and he got a bullet in his left butt cheek for his efforts. He felt it was God’s way of conveying that lesson, and he certainly remembered it - every time he sat down wrong.

Now that he was done with that chore, he made his way to the back kitchen for a bite to eat. He noticed that the carriage and horses had been put away and decided to just have a look at the livestock for himself. He loved the big animals and how soft their noses were when he petted them, and how they smelled like the outdoors and warm hide and they loved it when he came to visit. He secretly hoped to catch Talbert screwing up one day; they didn’t hit it off right from the start. Malcolm had introduced himself as “a servant of God and Jackson Burgess, in that order”, welcoming him to the plantation, offering him any assistance he could give and asking him to come to Sunday service at the little chapel where he was the pastor of their little flock. Talbert looked him in the eye and told him straight that he appreciated it and all that, but not to bother repeating his invitation, which he flatly turned down and walked away. Well, today was not that day; as usual the man had done his job properly and there was nothing to complain about - even knowing he was being petty.

When he finished attending to the cows and horses he put everything back in place, blew out the lanterns and closed the stables back up, then continued on his way to supper. As always, Maggie had a large plate of food and a cup of tea ready for him and he thanked her before sitting down, giving thanks to the Lord and enjoying each bite as it went down. There was still time to check on the newcomers then study his Bible for a bit prior to retiring. He went down the hall to use the toilet and wash up properly, grateful for the hot water the cook had put in there while he ate. He gave her a brief smile to show his appreciation for her efforts and she smiled back in return and told him she enjoyed doing it for him, then he left with a full belly and a good feeling about life in general. He decided to wait until morning to look in on the new slaves and instead went straight to his rooms behind the office and studied until bedtime. When his head hit the pillow he felt at peace with God and the world and slept through the night with only flittering thoughts and dreams, nothing that he could remember when he woke up the next day. Malcolm felt truly blessed.

Chapter Five

Once she got inside with her wards, Maggie showed them where the servants bathroom was and how to use it to wash up and take care of business. From the looks of them you could’ve blown them over with a good breath from lack of proper nutrition, everything they’d been through until today, and now the idea of eliminating inside of a wooden box was about more than they could take. After five minutes or so of attempting to show them how it worked she finally led them out back of the stables and let them do their business. These women were going to take somebody a lot of time and patience to make them house servants. Somebody besides her, thank the Father!

They followed her back inside the kitchen and she handed them plates of food that had smaller portions, a little more akin to what she might eat, of everything leftover from dinner. It was obvious from their looks of hope that they were beginning to fear this situation a little less than before, and she nodded at them and told them to eat all they wanted, not that they understood her, but they did take to her cooking right fast. When she sat down mugs of water they looked at them without being sure what to do so Maggie took one and showed them how it worked and after a bit of a mess, drinking from a cup had been mastered, more or less. She rang a small bell hanging on the wall and another servant came to show them to their room and help them with their first night, and Maggie thought to herself that she wished her every bit of luck - and patience - she could muster.

Now that everyone had been fed and watered, so to speak, she got on with finishing what little cleanup was left, wiping down all the tables and counters for the morning. She headed down the opposite hallway that Bert had gone down off the kitchen to the women servant quarters, and went on to see how the new ones were getting along. She peeked in through the door and saw that everyone was sleeping soundly, all laid out together on the floor and cuddling for warmth, while the beds and blankets remained as nicely made as this morning when she got them ready. It was typical behavior and she had expected it, but you can’t tell the master or you’d get your hide whipped at the post. No, much easier just to make up some beds and go on her way, which now was her own room and bed.

As she slipped away, Maggie took a peek into the other rooms along the way, which was also a part of her position here. Burgess wanted a keen eye kept on everyone and finding everyone sleeping meant all was well and that was her fervent prayer that night because that's where she wanted to be, head on her pillow and warm covers up to her chin. With that thought she opened Sophie’s door a sliver and looked in to find her sitting on the bed and crying quietly into a handkerchief that was dripping as much as she was. With an internal sigh Maggie went in and closed the door behind her, then went to sit beside the young lady and let her get the sobs under control, patting her hands now and then saying, “There, there”, “It’ll be alright now” and other comforting words, waiting for Sophie to regain her calm.

At length she quieted down and just sat looking at her hands, hiccoughing now and then. Finally she said, “I’ve missed two cycles, mistress. And I’m sick of a morning and tired all the time. What will I do?”. This was hardly news to Maggie, she had noticed that Sophie was showing the signs of pregnancy, and she suspected she knew with whom, so she reassured her some more, then asked, “Are you intending to keep the baby?” Nearly relapsing into full-blown sobs again, Sophie told her that the father wasn’t in a position to help her, and she didn’t have the wherewithal herself to be raising a child. And with that revelation, Maggie let out a long breath, and let the poor child know she could help her.” Now get some sleep, you and that baby need it. Tomorrow we will talk at length about the situation and what can be done, but for now, just rest.” and went out to the hallway.

She leaned back against the wall for what seemed an hour, considering her next steps because it would require the utmost discretion and care. Pushing herself away she turned and went into the bathroom before going on to bed, using the toilet and washing up in the now cold water. No matter, she thought, this was the news she and Lady Elizabeth had been waiting for. The poor woman couldn't seem to conceive her own baby and had asked Maggie to help her find a proper surrogate to birth her one. She could only imagine how happy she would be when she told her in the morning. With a large grin in her face Maggie opened her own door and went to her bed and sat there disrobing, laying her folded clothes on the old upholstered chair on her left that matched her bed and dresser. It had been in the attic when she began her service with the Burgesses and Lady Elizabeth had sent her own servants to get them and put them in her room, then she gave Maggie a lovely bedding set and pillows from her own collection. She drifted off to sleep with a touch of a smile on her face.

Maggie woke as usual when the first cock crowed and dressed for the day after shaking out her clothes to get the previous day’s loose dirt from them. After she dressed she wrote a note to Lady Elizabeth about Sophie’s condition, intending to leave it for her maid when she got a spare moment later on. She brushed her hair and put it into a tight bun at the back of her head, then went into the washroom and quickly washed up before she poured out the old water from the basin down the hole in the wooden commode, thinking to herself how nice it was not to have to go and use an outhouse, but the trade-off was a pretty nasty smell. She had it cleaned out every morning to keep it at a minimum, but she had not found a way to completely cover it up - yet.

On her way to the kitchens she noticed Bert leaving out the back way. He must be getting the carriage, she thought, Mr. Burgess was always going into town. Of course he would have to, being the Governor, which gave her pride in the fact that she worked for him and the beautiful Lady Elizabeth. Her ovens had been fired up and the room was quite warm by now, which Maggie had grown to enjoy over the years, and she went about getting things ready for breakfast. She got out the ingredients for biscuits and after a good amount of kneading pinched off pieces and patted them into a nice round shape before placing them onto a baking sheet and popping it into one of the ovens. Then she took out a piece of salted side pork and shaved off thin slices and set them aside while she got the eggs that had been collected that morning, which she broke into a worn wooden bowl and whipped them up nice and fluffy with a fork. She put the salt-pork in a large iron skillet that had been warming up on the stove and stirred it around while it cooked, letting it get golden brown and crispy. After she took it out of the pan and set it on the back of the stove to keep warm on a plate, she added the eggs to the pan and swirled them around just until they started to set and put them on a serving plate as well. She rang the bell for the waiters and took the biscuits out and slathered them in butter before she placed them around the pork. Sophie had come in and got the coffee and tea ready, and was putting them on a tray with cream and honey for the men to take out to the dining room. They filed in and one by one, each taking a tray, which Maggie covered with elaborate heated domed lids to keep everything piping hot.

Wiping the sweat from her brow she addressed Sophie, inquiring after her health and well-being. Sophie said she was feeling a little better this morning, and smiled at her, albeit slightly off. “Very well, then, get the kitchen cleaned and I’ll start on the chickens. That boy had better have gotten all the feathers off this time, or I swear I’ll send him for a whipping!” and she turned away with a smile that belied her harsh words, making Sophie smile and feel a little better. Maggie went to the cold storage room in the cellar and took out the four chickens she had picked out yesterday and brought them upstairs along with some potatoes and onions from last season. They would go together nicely with green beans from the garden and a fresh peach cobbler for dinner. There was enough meat left from last night's supper to make sandwiches for lunch and she set Sophie to making some bread to go with it, and soon the smell of it baking wafted throughout the downstairs.

When everything was in a stage where she could dismiss herself, Maggie did so and left Sophie to keep an eye on things, and went quietly to Eleanor’s room, Lady Elizabeth’s personal servant to leave the note she had penned earlier this morning, knowing that it was safe and would get to its intended party. She made a check of rooms on her way back to the kitchens, and thankfully found nothing out of the ordinary on her rounds. Singing an old song under her breath, Maggie went on about her day’s business as usual and waited for the mistress to call for them. It was going to be a good day, she thought, and Lord knows they needed one. She wasn’t the best Catholic but she genuflected for good measure, and mumbling what she remembered of Hail Mary she glanced over at Sophie with a smile.

Chapter Six

Coming down the stairs Elizabeth took notice of the dining table as the finishing touches were being made, the servants setting out dishes with vegetables and meat in heavy bowls and platters with high domed lids. Her husband and his nephew were already at the table, talking quietly and picking at a dish of horderves that included pickled vegetables, salted meats and an assortment of cheeses from the cellar. Jackson arose and came to hold her chair for her as usual and she nodded her head in appreciation with no change in her expression, lifting her rear end up as he pushed the chair up to the table. As soon as he reseated himself Joseph, the butler, motioned the servant to serve the crisp roasted chickens with fresh parsley and mint leaves on the side, each deboned and cut in small slices. Following that were an assortment of side dishes, starting with roasted whole green beans in a dill lime sauce, potatoes and onions boiled and riced together with fresh butter and cream, freshly baked crusty bread perfectly browned and buttered, served with a nice red wine. For dessert there was peach cobbler with a baked custard sauce that was caramelized on top, both just out of the oven and piping hot.

She adored Maggie, the wonderful cook and kitchen manager who had been with them from the start, so much so that she secretly supplemented her income to double it, believing she was worth every penny. It was one of the things her mother had taught her about running a household, saying “If you pay someone what they are worth, they will work twice as hard for you. It pays for itself not just in food, but you will spend less time training new staff and rumors are cut in half. Any husband worth his mettle will see the sense of it and praise you for being clever and wise.” Elizabeth smiled to herself at the memory which had indeed proven to be true, although she hadn’t tested the part about her husband’s supposed gratitude for her fortitude and simply used her own money. Her servants were devoted and went out of their way to make sure she was satisfied.

The furnishings here and throughout the house were hand made and she had chosen the woods used and the style which reflected her tastes, which most people agreed was exquisite. She especially loved the dining set, which was hewn from a giant ebony tree that had been growing on her fathers lands back in England and had fallen after being struck by lightning. As a child she had played beneath its broad branches with her siblings and various cousins, her father having put up several swings around its perimeter. The intricately carved designs depicting roses, her favorite flower, were highlighted with white instead of the typical gold leaf, the chairs were upholstered in a white matching jacquard print and it all sat on a thick rug woven in black wool with a border of white roses. The wallpaper was handmade with faint white rose borders on a background of black satin brocade with roses, but it was done in such a way that one just barely discerned the design, and the floor and ceiling were white washed and bare of design other than the baroque tiling around the chandelier which had been a wedding gift from her parents. Aside from her private suite it was her favorite room.

After being served they ate while holding a sparse conversation mostly dominated by herself since the men tended to answer her in terse sentences with their heads down, eating not for the flavors of the abundance of savory and sweet delights, but rather to be done with it and get on with whatever they were up to. Dear Lord, and they wondered why she despised most men, present company included. However, it was in her best interests to at least present herself as a dutiful wife, albeit far from doting and loving. Rather than continue with the conversation Elizabeth finished as much as she could of the well-prepared food on her plate, even though it tasted like she imagined sawdust would be if it was flavored. The men finished eating in record time, having two servings of almost everything and excused themselves from the dining table, headed to the parlor for drinks. She went into the parlor for a nightcap and the entire time she sat there she could feel the men squirming in their discomfort. Well, there was no point in lingering anyway so Elizabeth got up when she finished her drink and excusing herself, went back up to her rooms for the rest of the evening.

As she started up the stairway she noticed Talbert leaving her husband's office, which was located opposite the parlor with both off the front entry, cementing in her head the suspicions she’d had earlier since he did not, to her knowledge, go there with Jackson. It would be no surprise to her if they were all in on something, which in all honesty she expected to be the case. Without losing a step she went on up and took the left hallway leading to her rooms, and as she opened the oversized double doors that were carved from white oak that had been bleached in the sun and varnished until it shone, she was greeted by the sight of a lighted fire, candles and the scent of freshly picked flowers from the garden. Walking into her sitting room, she then went to her desk and sat down, writing in her diary the events of the day, taking special care to note Jackson’s behavior. He had in the past and recently shown himself to be unworthy of her affections, and on that account she had never conceived a child, much to the disappointment of her family back home. She couldn’t confess to her parents the true reason since she was shirking her womanly duties in their eyes. They wouldn’t understand her repulsion to the man she had married so it was her secret.

Elizabeth went into her bedroom and then to the bathroom connected to it to relieve herself and wash up. As expected her water was hot and the toilet clean so she didn’t have to be concerned with getting the hem of her gown dirty. When she reentered her bedroom her personal servant Eleanor was waiting to help take off her clothes and hang the gown up, folding the rest and placing them in specially designed rose-petal sachet lined drawers. The bedding had been turned down and pillows fluffed so Elizabeth sat on the edge of her bed and waited for Eleanor to turn her fireplace in here down after she stoked it for the night. She then dismissed her servant, but she still stood there like she wanted to say something so Elizabeth encouraged her by asking if there was anything she could help with. Seeming relieved, Eleanor handed her the note left by Maggie, and recognizing the handwriting she gave her maid a small coin for her trouble, one of several she kept in her pocket for such occasions. The maid then bowed and left to finish her other chores before retiring to her own room some time later.

Curious, Elizabeth opened the note, with only three words written on it, “I found her”. It was a good thing she was sitting down, because the turmoil of emotions that ran through her sent her head reeling. After she recovered somewhat she went to the fireplace and carefully held the note to the flames until it was nothing but ashes, feeling a renewed sense of purpose for her life. The first thing she needed to do was get the men out of the house for an indefinite period of time, so preparations could be made and enough time to elapse for her to come to term. Which meant she would have to lay with her husband much as it disgusted her, but it would be well worth it to finally have a child, even if it didn’t come from her womb. Elizabeth could feel her insides roiling at the thought, but she told herself that her body washes so nothing that a good soak in a tub full of hot scented water couldn’t fix. With that in mind, she determined that tomorrow night would be perfect and give her ample time to prepare everything, herself included.

Going back to her sitting room, she began to make a list of what needed doing for her to pull this off. She was too excited to sleep anyway, and feeling this might take a while, she went back and got the water jar and glass from her nightstand and brought it to the desk. Taking out her personal engraved stationery, she penned a letter to her mother telling her that she had finally conceived a child, and asked that she keep it to herself for now. She knew her mother would keep her secret and in the meantime she would also start preparing a layette. She mentioned that her husband was planning a trip and would be there within a fortnight, and would be staying for a time to conduct business. This was total fabrication but she would make certain that it came to pass as she had written, she just needed to find an excuse. After taking a drink of water, Elizabeth decided to go downstairs and get another glass of the wine they’d had at supper, so she put on a bed cloak and grabbed the candlestick from her desk before leaving.

When she came out into the hallway, she saw light coming from her husband’s rooms so she blew out her candle and let her eyes adjust to the dark before proceeding. She didn’t want to run into anyone tonight and carefully backing away Elizabeth went on down to the kitchen in the dark, found the wine and took it, together with a glass to her rooms. Maybe she’d drink more than one glass, who knew? This was cause for celebration! She made a list of items she needed, making sure that the items she wanted weren’t available here in the Colonies, and of such a nature that it would require Jackson to oversee it all. Of course he would take Talbert with him and she could ‘have’ the baby early while they were gone with them being none the wiser. She felt giddy, and not just because she had drunk two more glasses of wine. She sat there for a while longer letting it all sink in, thanking the Lord for finally seeing fit to give her a child, and looking forward to the weeks and months to come.

Chapter Seven

Even after the Hunters took their mother, the children lay as still as possible after putting the baby between them. It was her teaching and she had taught it well enough that they obeyed, even though they wanted desperately to follow her. “How will you take care of each other if you just follow along? What will you eat with no time to forage or hunt? Do you think the Hunters will take care of you? No. You must remain and help rebuild our home and village. This is the only way that you will survive, and I would have it that way.” And so they laid that way until the baby began to fuss about her diaper, and being hungry. Mlungisi sat up and quietly told his sister Nqobile to take care of Londiwe’s mess and he would seek out someone to nurse her, if at all possible. He cautiously left the underbrush and looked around at the destruction that only this morning was intact; he hung his head momentarily for the lost, allowing a single tear to trickle down his face for his mother before lifting his head and doing what must be done.

Carefully picking his way through the pieces of broken pottery and cooking utensils, strewn clothing and bedding, and a myriad of other items associated with their lives Mlungisi scanned for signs of others like himself, who were either too young or too old for capture. When he reached the center of their encampment he stood there silently, waiting for them to come out of hiding and join him. Soon, they began to emerge from their various hiding places until he was surrounded by the remaining number of the tribe, and Mlungisi had them line up and number off so he could get an accurate count. They did as he asked and at the end they had counted twenty-two children under the age of eleven, seven aged twelve to twenty and thirteen over the age of forty. He asked for a surrogate nursemaid for his baby sister and a young lady named Nomusa who was nearing her term offered to go and nurse the baby and after giving her directions she left, then he tasked the younger ones with cleaning up with the guidance and assistance of the elders, while he and the others left to find food for everyone.

Since he had assumed command, he instructed five of his team to find baskets and tools for food gathering and set out when they had them ready, while he and the next oldest would hunt an animal for supper. They could eat along the way and there was food to be found in the camp so everyone would be good until then. Bhekisisa and he had been hunting together before so Mlungisi trusted him and they worked well with one another. He let Bhekisisa lead the way as usual while he kept an eye out behind and beside them, looking for game and watching out for others that may or may not be hostile. After the attack on their village this morning that had virtually left most of them orphaned they were on high alert, as were the others, and they would be for many years to come. Even as they went forth, both boys were thinking of ways to keep the people safe in the future with the ones who had survived being young and old, having had the entire leading generation taken away. Mlungisi had learned very little from his father on the subject because he had other interests, and after he’d been taken last year all his mother had cared about was not letting that happen to them again. Sadly, her heart had conspired against her best intentions and allowed the Hunters to find them and he hung his head momentarily for his mother.

Noticing the movement of an animal through the leaves of the jungle to his right, Mlungisi signaled to Bhekisisa to follow him and they veered off, while trading leadership positions. They cautiously crept along the way it had gone, not making a sound as they tracked it down. Soon they came to a small clearing with a stream running through it, where their prey was drinking, and facing the other direction. Taking careful aim, they each loosed an arrow into the animal back behind its shoulders, immediately taking out its lungs and killing it on the spot. The antelope dropped onto its knees, then fell over and went into death throws and when it quieted down they went and started to carve up the best parts, leaving the rest of their kill to the animals who lingered nearby. They slung the packs of meat onto their backs and began the journey back to the village, each of them silently hoping that it was going to be alright when they got there.

As they neared their former encampment they noticed that a lot had happened in the short time they were gone, so much that it didn’t look like the same place and they glanced at each other in disbelief as they came near. There was no one about so they assumed that they were working elsewhere in the village so they went to the center as was the custom and waited for others to come to them. As earlier, it wasn’t long before they were surrounded by the remnants of their family and friends, with the exception of one of the gatherers, who was known for taking her time so there was little apprehension as of yet. The boys laid their kill out for their tribe members to see, and the elder women came and took it for processing and cooking. Mlungisi praised those remaining for their hard work, then they excused themselves to go wash up at the small stream that ran nearby, feeling a little bit better than before their excursion. They talked quietly among themselves as they cleaned up and discussed the next steps they would need to take and agreed that the first was to have the people choose a new leader, to be accomplished prior to the evening meal in the hopes that Lungile would be back by then. They decided to check the perimeter before heading back, each going the opposite way to make it faster, with a predetermined alarm if they needed assistance. When they met again there was nothing out of the ordinary to report so they made their way back into camp where the smell of roasting meat greeted them as they neared, and they went to the center of camp and waited for the group to come together.

Once everyone was accounted for, Mlungisi asked when they could expect to eat, and was informed that it was ready so with a bow to the women who had prepared it they went and helped themselves to the massive leaves that were heaped with delicious foods, and took them back and showed them what awaited. Then the elders helped the children and took turns getting some for themselves, after which the younger folks got their portions, which still left plenty so no one went hungry that day. There was talk as they ate of what had happened that morning, but it was low and cautious, and Mlungisi felt that it was a good thing, although he just listened and nodded his head towards someone who spoke truth and wished for healing. Of course a couple of the younger men wanted to go after the Hunters and rescue their parents and other tribe members, but the others were able to talk about it and make them see that it would only get them killed or taken, and the tribe needed them here if they were going to have a chance of surviving. Nqobile brought the baby and sat beside him, listening, as he was, to what the only remaining people of their clan were talking about as Londiwe began to fuss. She cleaned her baby sister up and put a new swaddling on her and rocked her in her arms to calm her. Nomusa came over from where she was sitting with her younger brother and grandmother to nurse Londiwe and the baby settled into her arms and began to suckle. It had taken several tries throughout the morning before there was a flow of milk satisfactory to let her fill up, but now that there were no problems with that she was content when she finished at her breast, and she passed a now sleepy Londiwe over to her sister.

Mlungisi felt a pride for his people, who had adopted him as their leader and the amazing transformation they had brought about in the encampment as well as their ability to come together and help each other begin to heal from the atrocities they lived through this morning. Many of the people were now starting to clean up and head to what was once a family home and now was devoid of parents, siblings, and children who would never be seen again. Getting to his feet, Munglisi took the baby so his sister could rise and clean up their supper things and put the used leaves in the pile outside the cookery and storehouse to dry out, and then be used to start and heat up a fire. When she came back he led the way to their semi-repaired home and try to sleep after everything that happened, and found that their beds and the baby’s cradle were ready for them in bedrooms that were separated by only a woven tree bark wall. After laying Londiwe down and talking to her for a minute he got up and went to his own bed where he sat down, grateful to have this place to lay his head and hoped and wished that his mother could find some comfort tonight, and as he sat there the tears finally came as silent sobs racked his slender body.

After some time, he was able to return to normal breathing and wiped his face on some of the baby’s swaddling, promising himself to help his sister with the laundry. He could hear Nqobile still quietly sobbing and he lay as still as possible so she could cry privately and he pushed the swaddling over towards her side so she’d have something soft to wipe her face on when she was ready. Londiwe was sleeping soundly, and Mlungisi allowed himself to slowly enter sleep, knowing that there were going to be two people on guard throughout the night, each taking shifts until sleep began to overtake them. It would become the practice of the group to take turns being on watch; and so the children who woke up this morning with little or no responsibility went to bed adults who were in charge of a ragtag tribe that was missing an entire generation, encompassing most of their parents and the knowledge they would have passed on. It was now up to them to become too powerful and cunning to be captured and taken from their home ever again.

Chapter Eight

William Vanderwein Burgess II, or Van as he preferred, was thoroughly enjoying watching his uncle squirm during dinner conversation, especially since it was directed away from him tonight. It tickled his funny bone that one of the most powerful men in the Colonies was the subject of constant brow-beating from his wife, who cared not a whit for his titles. Personally, he didn’t care much for either one of them, but they kept a roof over his head and food in his gut so he treated them better than they deserved, so he nodded at appropriate times, smiled when he looked at them and kept his mouth full until he could excuse himself. Ah, wouldn’t it be grand to sit down to a normal dinner and enjoy what one was eating. Van continued to eat slowly while his uncle remained at the table, nearly finishing his dessert as Jackson made his leave. Now with just a couple of bites left he felt it wise to go before Elizabeth started in on him about getting married. God, he was tired of that old song and dance! With that in mind he scooted his chair back and bade her good night, to which she nodded her head as a way of acknowledgement and dismissal. Taking his cue, Van turned away and went out the back door to the atrium, where he lit a cigar and waited for the coffee that one of the servants would soon bring him. It was the only part of the evening meal that he truly savored and he took his time, smoking the cigar down to about half and leaving the butt in the ashtray for the servant as a thank you.

When he got up Van stretched and did a few exercises to help wake his muscles up, and went inside and up to his rooms where he could relax and be himself, which apparently wasn’t socially acceptable. Not that it bothered him, but Elizabeth carried on about it at length, letting him know that if he only did this or that, instead of the other, maybe more people - explicitly young women - would like him more. He let it roll off his back like a duck in water and took no offense because he knew she really just wanted babies in the house without her having to let her husband into her bed. Knowing his uncle's habit of bedding every female servant in the house he could hardly blame her, but that didn’t mean that he was going to make up for their lack in those respects. Being an only child of famous adventuring parents had made him appreciate a quiet life, the only person that he had really known and cared for growing up was his nanny, a large black woman named Hattie who loved him with her entire being and was the mother he rarely saw. He loved her as well and was completely attached to her, but when his parents died and he came here to live she stayed there to be with her actual family. It had broken his heart but he realized it would be wrong to make her come when he didn’t have the means at the time of bringing them all. Of course he had a large inheritance which his uncle was still legally in charge of, but by the time he was in control he would of course be a full grown man and not need the services of a nanny.

His last birthday Van had turned eighteen years old, meaning he had to wait another three until Jackson would pass legal ownership to him and in the meantime, when he needed money he had to submit a request in writing outlining the intended uses of said money. Jackson kept meticulous ledgers pertaining to everything so he had no concerns about it being there when he reached the legal age. And to be honest, his uncle never turned down his requests, except that he be allowed to move out before then. Well, he had tried. It wasn’t really that bad here, in fact he was free to entertain himself in any manner he wished, as long as he didn’t get into trouble and bring shame on the family name. Since he’d lived his entire life in exactly that manner it was, as they say, a piece of cake. The problem was he was also somewhat of a womanizer, although he had managed so far to keep things under the covers, so to speak. He smiled at his clever phrases, making his thin mustache curl up on the left side and his brown eyes sparkle. Van went into his bathroom and relieved himself then washed up, and dried off on the slightly warm towel left for him by one of the night servants. He inhaled into the fluffy material to see if he could figure out who had delivered it because he knew each maid intimately enough that he knew their own unique aromas, and this one was Genevieve, or Gennie as he called her.

He combed his hair and used an ointment to slick it down, tamed his eyebrows and sideburns, and used a razor to make sure his mustache was perfectly trimmed so it was just barely a line over his top lip. He believed that it suited him, making him look dashing and a little older and he knew the ladies liked it. Now off to go see Rebekka he thought, as he went down the back stairs that were meant for the servants and out the rear door to the pathway behind the row of slave houses on the right side of the road so Malcolm wouldn’t notice. Van passed by the first half dozen and knocked ever so lightly on the back windowsill, and shortly he was silently invited into to cramped quarters of this slave family. Even though it was late in the evening they welcomed him and he spent a little time having a real conversation with real people, and he loved these interactions more than anything because they kept him human. Here were people he could admire and who seemed to respect what he had to say, which were missing from his life in the big house. These people had been wrenched from their homes, leaving behind the lives they had been leading and the families they had with no possibility of getting in touch with them and then chained and shackled to a ship's hull that was overcrowded with others who shared the same fate. Yet here they were, doing what the white people expected of them and being treated as property without rising up against them. Van could imagine that if it were his loved ones and life left behind just to be made a slave of a crass man who thought too much of himself he would be conspiring against it.

It was a frequent subject when he visited any of them, even knowing that if Malcolm found out he would lash the offenders with a three-tailed whip until their backs bled to the point that you could no longer recognize them as men. The women would simply be sold off and sent far enough away there would never be a way for them to be located. The possibility of those actions were what really kept the black people in line, especially after the conditioning they were put through to get them here. Van was likely the only white person they felt safe with talking about such things, and he felt honored along with a great weight of responsibility. At this time, however, the best he could do was allow them the opportunity to know that not all of his kind were like his uncle Jackson and Malcolm, that some white people not only disagreed with “owning” other people, they were in fact secretly meeting to find a way to end slavery altogher. Most of the nights he went into town on the guise of being a playboy he was actually meeting with a group of men who wanted to eradicate this practice and go back to a more gentlemanly way of doing things, and hire men and women who could then support their families and become productive citizens, and leave the African and West Indies peoples in their home lands where they belonged.

As for being a playboy, all he had to do to hold that reputation was spend the last half an hour before closing at the pub, letting the waitresses sit on his lap while he flirted with them. He made sure to give them all equal time, and habited each pub on different nights which let him appear to bed another woman every night. When he left he always had one of them on his arm, whom he would escort to their rooms and give them a little kiss goodnight before leaving. Some of them were disappointed and pouted, but he was able to cajole them out of it with a little snuggling and a suggestion that there may be a next time. He was sure they talked among themselves, but they couldn’t tell the truth to one another because it would make them feel inferior, so they inadvertently helped keep his reputation as a philanderer intact.

Smiling to himself, Van went to get his horse which was stabled at the back of the Inn, which he paid for on a monthly basis so he always had the same stall and there was ample feed and water for Marvel, the black Arabian steed that he had brought over with him. The stable hand had already combed the dust out of his coat and wiped him down, so all he had to do was guide him out and ride. Van rode bareback for several reasons, one being that he hated putting all that weight on his animal and he felt that girthing was completely inhumane, but it also allowed him and his steed to feel each other and ride as one and it kept him fit as well to remain on the horse’s back keeping his balance as they went down the road, providing exercise which was sorely missing in his life. He was never in a hurry when he went home and tonight was no exception, the horse kept a slow and steady pace that let Van survey the countryside at his leisure and gave him time to ponder. He did his best thinking on Marvel’s back late at night as he rode home and tonight he was considering life as a husband to his slave concubine and a father to their coming child. Sadly he knew there wasn’t anything he could do until he reached legal age and could move out of his uncle’s home and into his own, and he also realized they would have to move north where they didn’t have slaves and were against slavery. He would go right now if it weren’t for his sweet Rebekka and their child growing in her belly, so he bided his time and used it to secretly plot against the white establishment that made her the property of a man who had the right to treat her any way he pleased with no recompense. Feeling frustrated he urged Marvel into a canter and rode home hunched over and thinking only of the ride, and he took the horse to the stable where he brushed him out then wiped him down with large towels before he put Marvel in his stall, focusing on the job at hand and bonding with his horse which helped to ground Van and let him go to bed feeling loved and needed.

PART TWO

Chapter One

After weeks of living as a prisoner and walking miles each day then being holed up in the belly of a ship, given nothing but water and moldy bread to eat and getting very little sleep this new transition was causing Amahle to be confused to the point where she couldn’t understand any of it. After all of that, now she was being treated like a queen, given her own quarters with a luxurious bed, wardrobes and dressers full of foriegn looking clothes like the others wore and her own private bathing room. She even had a personal servant of her own to help her dress in those strange clothes, and it was a good thing because she had no idea whatsoever how to put them on. She felt like she was wearing layers of tents that weighed her down to the floor, making it a chore to walk in, which gave her some respect for the other women. She did like how the silk cloth felt on her skin, and the designs were quite pretty even if they weren’t what she was used to seeing, and when she saw herself in a mirror she was transfixed. She turned in all directions and watched what appeared to be another woman doing everything she did and when she saw her own face for the first time it was exactly as her partner had described it to her, and she felt a pang of loss for him like never before. She had already cried all of her tears out, but a few dry sobs escaped and turned her eyes sad, so Amahle sat in her red brocade chair which had been brought down from the attic for her use, along with the other furnishings. For the first time she took a good hard look at her situation and came to the bleak realization that she would never see her husband or children again, and that this was now her life whether she had chosen or even liked it. And then like others before her she began to accept and assimilate into a new culture, a new way of life and though she could have been hateful and vindictive she determined in her heart to live her best life, and at this time it meant wearing these clothes and assuming another personality that was fitting. And with that in mind she started learning her captors language which Naomi, her maid and Maggie helped her with every day.

She was not at all used to being inside, except when she had been aboard ship and the longing for the outdoors was making her depressed, and when she could describe what she needed in her newly acquired English words she asked Mr. Jackson if she could go outside for a time each day. He was surprisingly happy that she had asked him and agreed immediately, but cautioned her that it would have to be looked into first, so that his wife didn’t notice her. This relationship puzzled Amahle because men in her old world only took one woman and it was for life, but she didn’t know the words to question him about it and she wasn’t sure she had the authority to do so and decided she would have to wait for an answer. But just thinking about being able to go out and enjoy the sunshine and smell the earth made her feel immensely better and she smiled her first genuine smile at him, which he returned with a gentleness of expression she never expected to see on another man’s face. She got up abruptly and turned away from him because it had taken her by surprise that she felt some attraction to him and it was making her heart flutter. She thanked him for considering her request and told him that she wanted to lay down for a while, and he bade her good night as he went out the door. She sat back down and let out the breath that she had been holding, and considered this new feeling. She wished there was someone she could talk to about it because it was very frightening, and yet incredibly fascinating at the same time. She called Naomi who had prepared her bath and got undressed, lay in the cool gardenia scented water and let her thoughts wander while her maid washed her hair and massaged lavender oils into it to make it soft and manageable.

After drying off in big soft towels she got into a white satin nightgown with lace on the bodice and the hem that flowed to the floor and had a matching robe, which made her feel more feminine than she ever had even though it was strange to wear since she normally slept in softly tanned hides that provided minimal coverage. She couldn’t understand the purpose of the robe though if all you did was take it off when going to bed, and when she asked Naomi, she just laughed and told her there was also a bed jacket that matched it, which of course she had to clarify. It exhausted her just thinking about it, which in turn made her resolve to think no more about it and simply accept it as part of the new life she found herself in. Amahle soon fell asleep and woke up the next day with a new outlook. When she got out of bed Amahle put on her fancy robe and sat at her writing desk wondering what it was meant for. She opened each drawer and investigated every item she found, trying to deduce its true purpose and getting nowhere. Everything she found was a mystery to her, which only made her more determined to uncover what it was all used for and why. There was also a dressing table with a mirror for looking at yourself while Naomi brushed her hair and made it look fancy with smooth curls swept up to the top of her head leaving the sides and back sleek, which rivaled the lady of the house. Naomi took out an ensemble for her to wear today that included red and white lace petticoats under a red satin gown and red shoes. She put some white and red lace in a graceful bunting at the back of Amahle’s head with baby’s breath tucked in here and there. A full length mirror was next to the dressing table and she turned to see herself and was amazed and stunned at the transformation she saw there. She was indeed another woman living another life now, and she accepted and embraced it wholeheartedly, seeing there was no alternative anyway.

Straightening up and holding her head high, Amahle asked her maid for breakfast and watched as Naomi bowed her head and left to do her bidding without question or hesitation, pondering such a relationship even as she accepted it. At this point she couldn’t fathom the irony of her position, not knowing about the fate of those she had been bought with and who were now working in the fields, living in shared dwellings that housed too many people, rarely were given a chance to bathe or clean up their homes so that they lived like animals and who were kept in line through brutality and force. But she thought about them and hoped that they, like her, had found the new life to be, if not ideal, at least better than expected after what they had been through. She ate the food her maid brought her, and took time to enjoy what each had to offer her palate while thinking about what to do today. It was extremely boring just sitting in her room all day with nothing to do, so she asked Naomi what she would suggest as a way to fill the time and was told that she would bring her something as soon as she finished taking her breakfast dishes to the kitchen. Amahle thanked her and found herself feeling excited about having some kind of project, and learning new ways of doing things she knew how to do already. She busied herself to pass the time by examining her suite of rooms, taking time to look at everything and wondering at their fabrication and beauty. Even the most basic of items were exquisitely formed and rivaled the artwork that hung on the walls, making her begin to understand her status as a cherished pet, catered to and kept in this glorious prison that was now her whole world.

Well, she thought to herself, that was just the wake-up call she needed and now her purpose was determined. She might be a prisoner, but she also had the ability to make it less oppressive. Naomi knocked lightly and entered with her arms full of colorful things that she didn’t recognize, so they sat down together on the settee and she began to learn the craft of embroidery, which she straightway took to and completely enjoyed. She and Naomi spent many hours together making a growing pile of dresser scarves, table cloths and even quilt tops in a variety of patterns and styles until Amahle was advanced enough to work on her own. One day Jackson noticed her works and offered to sell them for her, and she could have the money from it to buy whatever she wanted or needed that he hadn’t supplied her with. She went along with him but didn’t truly understand the concept of earning or using money, although he did his best to show her. In the end he took them and had Talbert take them into town and see if the mercantile would buy them. It was the beginning of her own successful business, and it gave her a renewed interest in life; she told Jackson she wanted an enclosed area outside of her rooms where she could work in the sunshine and he replied that men would start working on it next week when Elizabeth went to her parents for a visit, now she was with child. She raised her eyebrows, but didn’t pursue the subject no matter how badly she wanted to ask, and he went on about how the atrium would be laid out, which she gave silent approval of and the subject was dropped yet again. Over the next few weeks Malcolm had a crew of slaves building outside of rooms and when they finished outside she was moved temporarily to another room so they could put in a doorway. She stayed busy by embroidering a stunning cloth from white organza with golden thread in an intricate floral design for the table that would sit in the middle of the enclosure, one of the few items she kept for herself.

When she was allowed back in her room she found that not only did she have a new atrium, but that wall was now comprised of windows which let the sun in and brightened everything. She hadn’t felt such joy since her partner was captured, and tears ran freely down her face to express her feelings and it made Jackson smile as he watched her. She went to the door and opened it onto her new atrium and looked around to see a myriad of flowering plants growing in pots that were hanging from the top of the walls and flowing down to the floor in places. There was a white granite table in the middle with her cloth on it and beautifully upholstered chairs especially made to match the tablecloth sitting on either side. She went to one and sat down, and Jackson sat opposite her and smiled. “They are quite comfortable, wouldn’t you say, my dear?” and she smiled back at him in acknowledgement. She was stunned beyond words and when he reached for her hands she didn’t hesitate, and they sat holding hands silently for some time, enjoying each other's company and the atmosphere of the beautiful setting, until nearly dusk. “I’ve arranged a special dinner to celebrate, and we’ll dine outside in your atrium tonight. I’ll see you then, my love.” Amahle nodded her head in acquiescence and he gently kissed her hand before he left. She sat there in the most comfortable seat she’d ever sat in and drank in the natural beauty surrounding her, feeling a stirring in her heart for Jackson and a sense of contentment that she had never attained until now, albeit bittersweet.

Chapter Two

This past month had been a whirlwind of news and emotions he had forgotten he had. When Elizabeth had come to his room one night and practically seduced him he had been quite happy to be of service, as it were, but afterwards she barely gave him the time of day -as usual - except to smile as if she was hiding a secret. And a few weeks later when she had announced she was pregnant you could have knocked him over with a feather since they hadn’t had any relations in months except that one night. Now he was becoming a little suspicious that she was having an affair with someone but he was far from jealous, in fact the thought of it made him a little giddy knowing his conquest of Amahle put them on an even keel. Regardless, it would keep her busy and leave him to his own devices, mainly his new found love who delighted him daily with her exotic beauty and intelligence; she had already learned enough English that they could hold short conversations about him and her life here. His demeanor became easy going and there was a lightness in his step that the world mistook as happiness at becoming a father, which was more than fine with him as it hid the true cause of his newfound joy.

Elizabeth would soon be leaving for England to spend a few months with her family before the baby came and bring back all of her baby furniture and the considerable layette her parents were furnishing her with. In all she would be gone for four months, which would give him time to get the nursery ready and build an atrium for Amahle so she could go outside without danger of being noticed. In the meantime he had a lot to do in town as well, what with being the governor, the town's Justice of the Peace and running his lumber business, which was booming. For the first time in his life, everything was going great and the future was looking bright. After getting ready for the day, he went down to breakfast in the informal dining room which was just off the kitchen and behind the formal one. Personally he preferred this one, it seemed cozier and the yellow flowers and green leaves that intertwined in a pattern on the wallpaper made it feel bright and cheerful. His food was waiting for him under a large silver dome and as he sat down his man servant Alfred took the dome off and took it to the kitchen to be used again for the next meal. Jackson ate his delicious breakfast of sausage, eggs, cottage fries and toasted homemade bread with butter and honey dripping from it with gusto and felt full and satisfied, ready to take on the day's tasks. He let out a long, loud belch which he covered with his napkin to no avail, then got out of his chair as Alfred pulled his chair out, took his hat from the hall tree and grabbed his attaché case on his way out of the door and found Talbert waiting out front for him with his carriage and team of matched black Arabian horses. The carriage itself was painted black and the accents were in white, which made it look sleek and stylish, although in this dreadful heat it got a bit warm, even with the windows so he’d had vents made into it that allowed a breeze to come through.

He told his assistant “Good day” as he nodded his head before he went in the door Talbert was holding open for him and was rewarded with a similar reply in an Aussie accent. Sitting on the soft leather bench, Jackson let Talbert know he was ready to go and was immediately on his way to town and with that he took several documents from his case and started to pour over them. It involved a business deal that he was contemplating which would increase his lands to cover roughly another 2,000 acres on the western side of his property line, doubling what he had now. Money wasn’t an issue and it was priced reasonably enough, but there were a few places on the property where nothing would grow and in those spots a black, smelly sticky substance oozed out of the ground. The current owner had tried everything to dry it up but had failed in every attempt, hence the land now being sold basically to the highest bidder, of whom he was the only one to date. He’d had his attorney write up a potential contract, which was also in his briefcase and he was going to deliver by Talbert’s hand later this morning after he got to his office. Even with the hundred or so acres affected, he could still grow a lot of tobacco, which was the next big market and he intended to be a big part of. Of course he would need more slaves, but there was already a plantation house and there had been a working slave operation which included housing for them so the costs to get growing would be minimal and he planned to let his nephew William live in the big house. About that time they pulled up outside of his Governor’s office and he got out with a slight smile on his face and opened the door with the elaborate key that only he possessed a copy of and went inside to his grand hickory and marble desk that dominated the interior of the large room.

He put down his case and sat at the desk, lighting two candles, one on each side to give proper illumination as he worked. After taking the carriage to the carriage house a few blocks away Talbert returned and upon entering opened the draperies that covered the large front windows and let in the natural light of the sun. He then approached Jackson’s desk and asked what needed doing, and he gave the contract documents to him with instructions on whom to deliver it to and that he should wait for either the signed papers or a rejection and bring them to him forthwith so he can take action one way or another. With a silent nod he took possession of the documents and left to do as he was told, and Jackson had every confidence that it would be carried out promptly and to his specifications. He then pulled the rest of the papers out and put some of them into filing drawers and some he put on his desk in order of importance, the first he kept ahold of and began filling in some blanks before he signed and dated them, then used his signet ring to seal them officially. When the wax had hardened he placed them in the top left drawer of the desk itself for safekeeping and worked his way through half a dozen more before Talbert came back with a signed contract. Now all that needed doing is for him to sign and seal it, draft a cheque from his account at the bank and exchange that for the deed and title. He had already prepared the draft and he signed and sealed it in front of Talbert, who witnessed it and then took it all back to the seller. Within a short amount of time he had returned and handed the title documents over to Jackson which made him the largest landowner in the state, who took them and placed them into the drawer with his other important papers.

He motioned Talbert to sit down in the leather armchair to his right and after he was settled Jackson handed him a glass of fine Bourbon whiskey and raised his glass, saying “My good man, I hereby gift for your assistance in my endeavor today, your remaining years of service will be wiped clean and from this day forward will receive a salary worthy of your position. Cheers!” and after both men drank the fiery liquid in one swallow, Talbert set his glass down on the desk and reached across to shake his now employer's hand, which was met and answered in kind. After Talbert settled back into the chair Jackson continued by telling him how much he was going to be making, which made the man raise his eyebrows and nod in appreciation. He then gave him the first duty as Overseer, which was to find another man to take his place by Jackson’s side as personal assistant. “In the meantime, we have to get that property ready because, as you know, I’ve purchased the next three shipments of slaves coming in from the traders. Malcolm will have to provide us with enough current slaves to clean up over there, and check around to see if there are any good men looking for temporary work. There is a shipment of tobacco plants coming in two months time and we need to be ready to plant them”, he said, pouring them both another drink that they lingered over, admiring the smoky aroma and flavor from the charred barrels it was stored in before being bottled. He got it from a local merchant who brought it from the distiller, and it was the smoothest whiskey he’s ever tasted. Afterwards, Talbert stood and excused himself to get started, mentioning that he had just the person in mind to replace him and asked permission to fulfill that duty first, to which Jackson gave his assent, then handed him a small leather folder with the first month's salary tucked inside, along with a note to the bank allowing him to recover any expenses he encountered in his duties at will made to him specifically and without any of the usual caveats. Talbert slipped it into his inside vest pocket and put his hat back on after tipping it to his previous owner who nodded back, then he left with a smile on his face that Jackson had never seen before and it made him smile too.

When he was alone again he opened the drawer with the paperwork that named him the new owner of the property and as he was taking it out a citizen by the name of Charles Newberry came in with his hat in hand and waited by the door to be called in proper. Jackson slipped them back into the drawer and rose, motioning for his visitor to come forward and when asked if he would like to sit down, Mr. Newberry nodded yes and sat in the chair he was nearest to. He was no stranger to Jackson or this office as he came in frequently to complain about other people's business, and much as he would like to dismiss him he had a duty to listen to his gripes and even look into them as a matter of course so putting on his best face he asked the man the reason for his visit today and sat back to listen, praying it would be short. “Mr. Governor”, he began, “ it has come to my attention that certain slaves are being given freedoms that the law does not allow for. In fact, your honor, (making Jackson roll his eyes inwardly at the made-up title he insisted on using) they are being permitted to sell goods in the General Store without disclosing the true nature of the manufacturer of said goods. It is your sworn duty to protect the white population from this underhanded and unlawful merchandising. Your honor, sir.” With every bit of inner strength he possessed Jackson replied in a warm voice how happy he was that Mr. Newberry had seen fit to bring this problem to him and assured him that he would look unto it personally, making certain to keep him updated as he could, and admonished him to keep it between them until Jackson had a chance to resolve the situation. He stood up and waited for Mr. Newberry to join him and shook his hand, thanking him again for being the community's watchdog and the man left happy and hopefully quiet, although the last wasn’t guaranteed.

It was now time for lunch and as was his habit, Jackson had it delivered from the hotel down the street where his chariot and horses were stabled during the day and Talbert’s work pony during the night. Today’s fare was a thick rib cut steak that was dripping juices and blood, with a stone baked potato that had been smothered in freshly churned butter from the cow out back that was milked daily and shared the little barnyard with laying hens. He locked the door behind the waiter after giving him a generous tip, and took the food over to a small dining table where he sat down to eat in the matching leather dining chair. He found himself wishing that Maggie would fix the potatoes such at times, but it seemed that any time he approached her she had a large knife in her hand and although he knew she wouldn’t harm him it was still intimidating so he left that sort of thing to Elizabeth, who was a capable manager in her own right and ruled her domain with a stern yet fair hand which had earned the respect of even the most recalcitrant among them.

When he finished he left the platter on the table for the waiter to return for, which should be in about ten minutes or about an hour after bringing the food to him, depending on how busy it was. No matter, it was no longer his concern and as yet someone had never failed to come back for the kitchen’s dishes and flatware. On to better things then, he thought to himself as he returned to his desk and sat down again in his ‘throne’ of a chair which had been made especially for his large build and long legs to fit into comfortably and in turn made him tower over anyone across from him. Realizing that he struck an impressive figure he let the soft tone of his voice become the most dominating feature when anyone approached him and it always succeeded in lowering even the most menacing of men’s defenses, a fact that he had realized as a young man when courting women and he had since found to be very useful in all his life’s dealings. Indeed, much like earlier today he found it best to let a man rage or rant about whatever was bothering him and get it off their chest, and when they had remained quiet for at least three minutes to let them think about it more clearly he would then respond quietly and have their full attention. It also gave him time to ponder and come up with a ‘solution’ that would satisfy them while keeping peace.

Picking up the briefcase with his other papers for the lumberyard he locked the desk drawers, turned out the candles and was met at the door by Talbert who was accompanied by a young man dressed in a poorly fitting business suit that looked vaguely familiar, and which he identified as one of Talbert’s but he said nothing and shook the man’s hand. Showing them out with him, he suggested they could come along on his way to the lumberyard and talk to him as they went. The man introduced himself as Phineas Clairborne from Massachusetts originally but had lived in New Port for the past eighteen years as assistant to another powerful man who was a merchant of foreign goods, and was now looking to slow down before he retired. This stopped Jackson in his tracks and he turned to get a better look at the man and saw what he’d missed before; the crow’s feet at the edges of his eyes, the dark bags under them, fine wrinkles around his forehead and a sagging jawline that bespoke a man older that he’d thought at first, yet not too old for what he needed. He told the man to come by his office in the morning around 8 a.m. and thanked Talbert for his time before continuing to his destination.

Chapter Three

When he awoke this morning, Talbert had been an indentured servant with more time left to serve than had passed and now he was not just a free man, but one with a generous salary from the man who had bought his service and had proven to be a very good employer. From the start when Jackson had outbid everyone for his service because he had liked the way Talbert had smiled at him, and on the way to the plantation he had ridden in the carriage where they had formally introduced themselves and Jackson had detailed his role as assistant, this had to date been the best position in his life and now he had something to show for it as well. Yes sir, he was a happy man, and to celebrate he was headed to the tailor’s to have a suit fitted and fashioned that would befit his new promotion as Head Overseer of the largest plantation in the state. He caught himself whistling a jaunty tune and realized he was sauntering along and swinging his arms like the day he had met his wife and he abruptly came to a halt at the thought, which caused the man behind him (who was in a hurry and normally would have passed by but this guy was going quickly enough to match his pace) to bump into him and they both took a tumble onto the wooden planks of the walkway. At once they began to apologize for the matter, then accepted each other’s apology together too, and then they laughed and helped one another up. After dusting off, Talbert introduced himself and offered to buy the fellow a drink at the tavern but after shaking his hand and providing his name he turned the offer down, explaining his need to hurry and promising that next time they met he’d take Talbert up on it.

Not terribly upset at being turned down, he continued on his way in a more somber mood thinking about Colleen and Seamus, wondering as always if he would ever see them again. Try as he might, he couldn’t envision a scenario where that would occur, given her thoughts on the subject and the unlikely idea she would change her mind about it - that just wasn’t her way; once she made it up she never turned back, which was one of the reasons he’d fell for her in the first place. Life is ironic, he thought as he entered the tailor’s only to find the man who had bumped into him waiting ahead of him, and he couldn’t help it, he laughed out loud and sat down across from his acquaintance and offered his hand again and then used it to wipe a stray tear from his eye. The gentleman took his hand and joined him in a laugh saying, “It seems fate would have us become more than expected, my friend. What say you to dinner and a drink when we finish here? I recommend the cooking and wine at The Boar’s Head Inn, have you been there?” to which he replied he had and would gladly accept, as he hadn’t eaten lunch. The previous customer was just leaving and the man was called in for his final fitting and Talbert remained waiting his turn, mulling over the day’s events that had led to this meeting and wondering what was going to come of it. One thing for sure though, he was not going to be caught unawares like that again and made a vow to be on his guard at all times when out in public. On the other hand, dinner at The Boar’s Head was always a welcome treat and he felt he deserved something in the way of celebration and besides, it would give him the chance to get to know his new companion better and if he was honest with himself, he actually found that he wanted to do just that.

About an hour later his new friend left, saying he would be waiting at the inn, and he was ushered into the ‘inner sanctum’ where he would have to strip down to his skivvies to be measured. He had never been in a clothier’s shop except to pick up one of Jackson’s suits, so he was a bit nervous about wearing so little clothing in front of a man, and he’d heard some stories about some men having their danglies coddled during a fitting so he was standing as stiff as a board with his legs squeezed together as tightly as possible, wondering if it was worth all of this for a decent suit of clothes. The tailor came back in after ascertaining he was ready and took one look at him and laughed, which made Talbert feel kind of silly and allowed him to relax. The older man did his job with proficiency and had him hold his own parts out of the way which had him saying a Hail Mary in his head for the rest of the measurements, and when it was finished he went with the fellow to pick out cloth for each piece of clothing, including seven pairs of soft cotton underwear, most likely farmed at his bosses plantation which gave him a good feeling. After telling Talbert to return in two weeks at the same time for the first fitting, the tailor told him he expected half today and the remainder when it was finished and today’s total was $25 which Talbert gave him and then left to go have some dinner, and he was famished.

The Boar’s Head was only a short walk away and he got there in minutes and found his new friend waiting at a table by the back window, which afforded a view (and smell) of the port, which was the last table to be seated and typically his first choice for that reason. Smiling to himself, he again found himself really liking this guy and he took the seat opposite, noticing that he was drinking a draft and calling for one himself. The barmaid brought his drink and took their orders, both of them ordering large steaks cooked medium rare with all the fixings, and when she left to deliver it to the cook they raised their mugs and clicked them together before taking long swigs to quench their thirst. After returning his mug to the table he started to wipe his mouth on his sleeve but noticed his dinner partner using a napkin and did the same, telling himself he should start practicing now so as not to ruin his new clothes when he got them. As he was about to begin the conversation the barmaid brought their food out piping hot and smelling delectable, and Truman thanked her and gave her a tip. She brought them fresh mugs and left them to their food, and they nodded to each other before gorging themselves on the steak, boiled potatoes and cabbage seasoned with salt and heavily peppered along with a giant piece of peach cobbler, a huge dollop of ice cream melting on it.

Talbert tried to quiet his need to belch and he hid it behind the napkin best he could to no avail, causing the cook to holler “Thanks!” from the kitchen and he and Truman shared a good laugh about it. When the laughter subsided, his companion told him a little about himself and he shared his news with Truman, who congratulated him and bought the next round as well as dinner. Talbert started to thank him but he waved it away, saying “Please don’t fuss about it, my new friend. I am always happy to spend an enjoyable evening out and have few friends here to do it with, so it is an honor. I must be away now, as I was due home some time ago and my wife has likely imagined a hundred things that could have gone wrong and is thinking me dead or dying on the side of the road leading to a long forgotten village in the middle of a dense forest. It has been a pleasure I hope to have again soon. Good night, good sir, until then.” Talbert arose and they shook again and then his new friend left and he finished his ale and did the same, heading back to the office to take Jackson home, and so went to the stables and picked up the carriage that was waiting for him and drove it to the Governor’s office where he waited outside for Jackson.

About half an hour later he saw him coming out and locking up so he hopped down and opened the doors for his now employer for the next to last time before the new man took over tomorrow and he would start as the new Overseer. He nodded to Jackson who nodded back to him in turn, and Talbert told him he had supper with a gentleman and would be retiring to his rooms after parking the carriage and stabling the horses, to which he replied that was just as well since he was taking his supper in his rooms tonight since Elizabeth was gone and he had work to do, then stepped up into the interior with his briefcase. Liking him ever the more for his ease of character, Talbert closed the doors behind him and got up into the seat to drive home. Tomorrow night he would be riding the gelding given to him when he’d been brought here whom he had named Lightning for his speed and coloring, which was black with a long, jagged white slash going down his right side from his shoulder to his flank. Jackson had bought out another owner’s horses when they decided to go back to sunny old England and he had held this one back for himself, but really didn’t need him.

Tomorrow was going to be busy, but he couldn’t wait, and they neared the front entrance where he stopped the horses and got down to let Jackson out., bidding him a good night since they weren’t going to be dining together as usual. He waited until he was alone and boarded the driver's seat to put the horses and carriage away for the night, rubbing them down as always and filling their feed bags and water trough for the night, even though there was a competent stable boy to do it. He just enjoyed the time he spent with them and it eased the boy’s duties which were a bit onerous in his opinion, which he would address as overseer in the morning. He still couldn’t get over his good luck and genuflected towards the roof of the stables before he stepped out into the evening light. He saw that lamps had been lit in the kitchen and main rooms of the house, and went into the side door and down the hall to his room, after stopping and using the bathroom on the way. He brought out his journal and sat writing in it for about ten minutes, detailing the events of the day. He sat back and read through them to ensure it was correct and was nearing the end when a maid knocked and came in to give him a notebook from Jackson with information about his new position and a ledger to keep track of everything in. He thanked her as he took them and sitting back down he finished proofreading his notes and put them away, then he took the notebook and went through it in leisure, making sure he didn’t skip over anything. In the ledger he noted the first expense, the fitting for the suit today which he had paid out of pocket for and was necessary at times for his new position. He knew this from Malcomb, who told him about how he got his new clothes paid for, and Jackson never said a word about it. He put it all away and quickly disrobed, washed up at his dry sink and flopped his clothes over the chair rather than folding them and laid down, falling asleep quickly and sleeping deeply without any dreams for a change.

Chapter Four

Waking as usual when the cock first crowed, Malcolm washed up in the basin with water left from yesterday and dressed in his usual attire for working with his slaves, which consisted of a pair of khaki colored cotton pants, white undershirt and a light blue buttoned cotton shirt with red suspenders, which he topped off with a short-brimmed straw hat and of course, a pair of worn boots. Today he was going to put them in the southeast cotton field to pick it after he finished up with his devotions, then he’d go get some of Maggie’s fine cooking for breakfast. He knelt at his desk and said his daily prayers and asked forgiveness of any wrongdoings of the previous day, combed his hair and went out to get the workers to the field for the day. He went to the meeting ground and found every man, woman and child ready to go, as expected. He kept them in line with a firm hand and they knew he would not hesitate to whip every last one of them if need be. Naming two of the older men as today's supervisors he sent them out to the field, and watched as they marched with baskets on their heads to bring back the cotton in.

After a few more minutes he went to the kitchen and got a heaping plate of food from under a warming dome, and he took it into the dining nook off the kitchen and found Talbert already sitting there eating. He nodded to him and said “Good morning” in a slightly muffled tone, to which Talbert just nodded back and continued to eat as if he hadn’t even come in. Shrugging his shoulders, Malcolm sat opposite his peer and ate without looking up again and by the time he was done Talbert was long gone from the table, which he counted as a blessing since the man came as close to being his nemesis as anyone else ever had. In fact, he was nearly certain that he was in cahoots with the Devil and probably meant to rile the slaves into a rebellion. He felt in his inner being that Talbert would be the undoing of the Burgesses' wealth and power, but had nothing to prove it yet. Yet. He felt he owed it to his employer to keep a sharp eye on him since in Jackson’s eyes he could do no wrong, and gave him leeway to do just about anything now that he’d named him Overseer of the new plantation. It wouldn’t be long now before he left and stayed in the new place where he, Malcolm would have little if no interactions with the man and wouldn’t be able to watch him, then who knows what he might do over there on his own, the thought of which made him shudder.

Taking his plate into the kitchen, he sat it down on the counter next to the sink and since he didn’t see Maggie anywhere he went outside to the stable and got his horse Jeremiah from the corral and saddled him up. He got up and rode out to the field and checked on the progress being made and found that one of the children was sick and was being looked after by one of the appointed supervisors. Remaining seated in the saddle and looming over the group of workers, he told them “I fully expect the same amount of harvested cotton as if that child was doing her share of the labor. Should you fail to do so, you will be whipped and forgo your supper”, and then he turned and rode away. He had other fields to check on and he went to the west and got down to check the tobacco crops, which he did by walking down a row and coming back down another one and occasionally squatting down and looking at the base of the plants as well to make sure they weren’t getting a disease or being eaten by bugs. When he got back to his mount he hadn’t found anything amiss and went on to the next field and so on, checking in on his pickers every now and then. He was satisfied that they were going to bring in a really good harvest today based on what he had seen, and by lunch time he had completed his rounds and brought Jeremiah back into the stables to be rubbed down and fed, then he went to get lunch.

After he finished most of the food Maggie gave him, Malcolm went to his office and worked on the accounts and journals for the remainder of the day. He walked back to the meeting ground in the middle of the little slave ‘village’ which was situated close by the whipping post as a reminder to them at all times to obey their masters. There he found the cotton crew with their harvest for today laid out in neat rows five baskets across and six and a half baskets long for a total of thirty and a half bushels of cotton. He inspected the cotton and found it to be of excellent quality and nodded to himself in satisfaction, then he turned to his group of slaves, who had worked hard to make sure they picked enough to suit him and said “That is some good cotton there, folks, very good. I must say I’m a little surprised that you managed to pick this much - and for that reason, I’m raising your daily quota to one full bushel each from now on. The days are getting longer and that gives you a little more time to pick enough and in a few weeks we’re moving to the tobacco fields so all of the cotton must be picked before then. Dismissed.”

Malcolm was feeling on top of his game and couldn’t wait to tell Mr. Burgess about today’s bountiful harvest after supper. In the meantime he went to his little home behind the office and washed up in the fresh water a servant had refreshed earlier in the day, and hung his shirt and pants out to have the dust beaten out of them while he had a simple supper here in his quarters. There was a plate of food waiting for him on his little dining table in the middle of the room, which also served as his bedroom, dressing and bathing room. He sat down in the old dining room chair provided for him by Mistress Elizabeth and enjoyed the meal of pork tenderloins with onions, mashed potatoes and gravy, buttered peas and half a loaf of bread spread lavishly with fresh cream butter and slathered in honey. There was even a large helping of custard with what looked and smelled like caramel sauce, but he didn’t even finish his supper although he would have loved it. Malcolm decided to save it until later, after talking to Jackson in the house, which meant putting on some clean clothes.

After he got dressed again in his formal clothes he went to the big house to speak with Jackson, and knocked on the enormous white carved wooden doors and waited for Joseph to come and let him in. He could have gone in through the kitchen or servants entrances but he preferred coming in this way and getting a chance to look at all the beautiful paintings and sculptures in the entryway and on the way to Jackson’s office. Soon enough the doors were opened and he was ushered into the house and escorted to his destination, although he knew the way from many such treks and could have found it blindfolded and walking backwards, but Joseph bade him remain outside whilst he determined whether the Master could see him. Malcolm rolled his eyes at the servants back and uttered an oath under his breath at the formality and arrogance but did as he was told until he was brought into Jackson’s office and library, the latter taking up three entire walls. The smells of leather bindings and aging paper was intoxicating and almost overwhelming and Malcolm instinctively inhaled a long breath and slowly exhaled, letting the aroma permeate his being.

Jackson motioned for him to be seated across the desk from him and greeted him before asking for his report, which brought Malcolm back to reality once again. He greeted his employer back and began telling him about the past week's developments, telling him he needed more field hands because the crops were doing so well, they were not going to be able to keep up with harvesting everything. Jackson replied that he had already purchased more slaves for the new acquisision and they would be arriving next week, and that since there was nothing much to harvest there that Malcolm could use them as he saw fit for this season. Malcolm acknowledged Jackson’s plan was fitting and beneficial for the purposes he had discussed, and then told him about today’s bounty from the southeast cotton field and how the slaves had gathered more than usual because he had threatened them all with a whipping when one of the children fell ill. Jackson commended him for his actions and was very glad to hear about the excess harvest. He then asked if Malcolm might know of someone who could oversee the slaves when the new property was up and running, and he promised Jackson he would check around with his associates and see whether anyone knew of a man looking for that type of work. Jackson thanked him and bid him a good night, an obvious signal that the meeting was over so Malcolm rose and let himself out and continued back the way he had come and Joseph let him out.

He went back to his rooms and lit a lamp on his bedside table to illuminate the area, allowing Malcolm to see well enough to hang his clothes back up and get ready for bed. He sat in his easy chair and ate the custard, which was as good as he expected, then read from the Bible for about an hour before he turned off the light and got into bed. He laid there for some time thinking about the events of the day and having more slaves coming to work in his fields, figuring where to house them all until they were taken to the new plantation and he would be back to what he had now, which was truly insufficient for the tasks at hand, and wondering whether he should ask about keeping the new workers here indefinitely so he could expand the planting next year. He felt that if he put it like that Jackson would be more likely to agree since it could potentially increase the output and therefore generate more income for the plantation. Malcolm would have to build more houses but he had already planned out where they would go and accumulated the materials some time ago, just as he had planned this harvest to be larger than his workforce could actually handle in order to make Jackson realize the potential. Malcolm envisioned turning a much larger portion of the lands into usable farmland and even some grazing land for additional livestock because they would have more people to feed. Everything was going according to plan, the only thorn being that arrogant Aussie Talbert who had become even more of a threat to his little kingdom when Jacson had named him Overseer and unknowingly let the fox in the chicken house and with that, he drifted off into a troubled sleep where he found himself sneaking around behind his enemy waiting for the perfect time to strike, and just when it came he woke up.

Feeling like he’d been cheated, Malcolm went about his morning routine in a dark mood which even his prayers and devotions didn’t fully expunge and he ate only half of his breakfast without even tasting it. He went to the meeting place and barked his orders at the slaves, who then scrambled to do his bidding as quickly as possible. In the commotion the sick child from yesterday stumbled and fell down, causing the child’s mother to help her get up, and slowing others down in the process. Malcolm had brought his whip today and cracked it on the mothers back to get her attention and make everyone aware that such things would not be tolerated today, and she fell to the ground but got right back up and pulled her child along so she wouldn’t get whipped as well. Everyone else fell into a more orderly formation and hurried to the cotton field to finish the harvesting, which Malcolm informed them would be today even if they had to miss supper.

With that he turned Jeremiah towards the northern fields to inspect the other crops and check on the cows, sheep and pigs, which he kept in the farthest field from the big house because of the smells which he was fond of, but no one else shared in this delight. He spent a good amount of time out in the pastures and Jeremiah loved the interaction with his ‘cousins’, sniffing and rubbing necks with the cows and what amounted to the same thing with the rest of the animals until both were in a much better mood. He had to admit this was his favorite part of the job, and even as he rode away he maintained his favorable disposition and felt the anger fall away, thanking God for redeeming him yet again. He was nearing the cotton fields when he noticed that most of the slaves were huddled together and disregarding their duties, which nearly sent him into a rage again but he remembered his gratitude to his maker just moments ago and approached the group easily and inquired as to what the matter was. The oldest man of the group spoke up and told him that the little girl had taken a bad turn and was failing, and needed immediate medical attention. After a few moments of deliberation, he excused the child and her mother to go to the kitchen for help and he told the others to get back to work and included the supervisors in the harvesting to help make up for their absence. They did not hesitate to follow his orders and went back to picking and cleaning the cotton bolls as fast as they could without making mistakes like leaving the husk on or throwing the cotton away by accident. Satisfied that he would still get a good gleaning, Malcolm turned his horse towards the office and his rooms for lunch and praised God for working in him so that he was able to show mercy to the mother and child. He did wish the child a speedy recovery because her presence would be missed in the fields what with the tobacco almost ready and the new shipment of slaves could encounter any manner of troubles before reaching them, no mater what Jackson was promised. He told himself that he would look in on them later today when he was done with his bookkeeping and journaling, so he left the workers to their business and rode back to the stables, passing the struggling, crying mother and her daughter on the way but affording them not even as much as a glance to acknowledge their existence.

Chapter Five

Maggie had made various contacts since they arrived in this new land several years ago, and she quietly and cautiously inquired about a place for unwed mothers to retire while with child and yesterday she had been given the address of a place several towns away. She had sent word to Lady Elizabeth letting her know that things were progressing as hoped through her personal servant Eleanor who had been with Lady Elizabeth since her birth and was completely loyal and trustworthy, and had awaited word on what to do next. Eleanor had secretly given her a sign from the hallway, so she had Sophie finish up using the excuse that she had to use the bathroom and went instead to her room where she located a note under her pillow from Lady Elizabeth which simply read, “Proceed at once with caution” and was unsigned, but she knew her mistress’s handwriting well enough. As always, she burned the note in the fire of her lamp and let it burn out in the basin until nothing was left but ashes which she dumped into the toilet. Now that she had the go ahead, Maggie was anxious to get things rolling and she sent for Edward, the gardener, who was the usual person to run her errands and pick up any orders in town. She took him down to the cold storage and gave him a note and told him where to deliver it, and to wait for an answer and bring it back to her as soon as possible. She also handed him a list of things she needed done in town and he left.

Since then Lady Elizabeth had sailed to England taking Eleanor with her to visit her family and gather the needed furniture and layette items for the new baby. They wouldn’t return for four months, in which time Lady Elizabeth would start wearing maternity clothes to mask her non-growing belly and appear to be pregnant. It seemed risky but the Lady had a great deal of experience in deception and with Eleanor’s assistance they were sure to come through the ordeal unscathed, and it was nothing to create an illusion that the men would believe since they paid no attention in the first place. Not to mention that Elizabeth had already made plans for them to be gone when she ‘gave birth’, at which time Sophie would be rewarded well for the child she was carrying, including going back to her home in England where she wouldn’t run into anyone they knew.

With all that it was time to dry tomatoes and this years harvest was better than ever - so much so that she was selling the excess to the grocer - thanks to adding compost which included chicken feces that she had the gardener start when they got here; it took two full years to create the best fertilizer and it was worth the wait, but now they had to set up tables outside to let the sun dry them naturally, she only added salt as they were getting close to help preserve the color and flavor. Well, she may as well go ahead and start breakfast so she went out to the kitchen and made some bread dough, lit fires in her stove and ovens and went into the cold pantry down in the basement and brought up a big ham, potatoes and onions. She carved thick slices with the fat attached off of the outside of the ham to fry up for breakfast and put the rest into a roasting pan and set it into the small oven that would cook it slowly throughout the day and she would serve that for supper. By then Sophie had come in and peeled the potatoes and onions and sliced them and put them in a bowl of salted water which she covered with a large plate and set aside to make a casserole for supper. They finished cooking breakfast together, which consisted of the ham, fresh eggs and french toast from the leftover loaf of bread she’d baked yesterday, and afterwards Sophie washed the pots and dishes, setting them on a large towel to drip dry and she put them up when she was done, wiping some of them that hadn’t dried completely. In the meantime Maggie was getting a head start on lunch and had taken the bread from the oven, popped it out of the pans and rolled the loaves up into towels to cool, laying them on a windowsill and was now working on several pies. The gardener had brought in strawberries, and she had some lemons from the last order so she was making lemon meringue pies with a strawberry sauce for supper, and making strawberry creme crepes for lunch with a thick soup of chicken and noodles with spring onions, carrots and celery with fresh baked bread and butter. She sent Sophie out for a few chickens, which she plucked and washed before putting them into a big pot to cook. While it was cooking Maggie made a large batch of noodles and set them aside to dry out and together with Sophie cleaned and chopped the vegetables which they put into a bowl with salt water until time to add them to the soup.

By then it was time for lunch, which was served to the men and then the ‘house’ servants, those who either worked or had rooms in the house and came in at their leisure and ate the leftovers, so she made sure there was enough for all of them when she cooked. Some of them ate here in the kitchen at her little planning table, some ate in the dining nook off the kitchen but they all got their fill of whatever she served the Burgesses once they were done. She did her best to keep everyone happy and healthy and was rewarded with a robust family and servants who could perform their duties with vigor, and who rarely got sick and needed doctoring, which was also one of the hats she wore and she believed in preventive medicine which included a wide variety of herbs that she incorporated into her everyday cooking. Edward gathered many wild herbs and she grew others in the garden, such as thyme, dill and rosemary with seeds that she had been gathering from her harvests since her mother gave her the seeds that got it all started many years ago, when she about fourteen years old and realized she was a green witch.

She had kept that a secret since her family were practicing Orthodox Catholics and would have fallen over in shock had they known, but to this day her ‘religion’ was far down on her list of priorities, and one she had no time for regardless. Maggie much preferred to practice the ancient pagan ways of spirituality and found solace in nature rather than a cathedral which was decorated in carvings seeped in paganism, but spouted only words of judgment and executed those who believed differently. She found Christianity in general abhorrent because of their bloody history and refusal to let people follow other religions and her own country was an example of what happens; the younger people are the first to accept and believe the new concepts because they are separated from the older ones and force fed a new way of life, which is then taught to their young until it takes over like a disease. She had resisted only because she married early to an older man who felt as she did, and they had a good life together until he died peacefully in his sleep one night, leaving her with a small estate which her niece, her only brother’s only child, and her family lived in and cared for it in her absence. They put money into her bank account for the use of her property and it had amounted to quite a bit over the years because she never touched it except for needed repairs and the like. Having no children of her own, she intended to leave it all to her niece and had a will drawn up, which was also in the same bank in a safety deposit box that was part of her account, with instructions to provide it to her attorney at the appropriate time. Most people let a lawyer hold their documents and paid dearly for the service, but she refused to give them any more of her money than she had to, even after she died.

Now that her pies were out of the oven and cooling, it was time to clean the cooked chicken off of the bones and discard them along with the skins, which went to the hogs in their slop bucket that she kept out back, along with any other food scraps and peelings. While she was doing that the vegetables had been added to the stock to cook until tender, then she put the cleaned chicken in and let it boil before putting in the noodles in a few at a time and stirring them in carefully to keep them intact and let each little batch cook a bit until the pot was full and she put it at the back of the stove where it would stay warm, but stop cooking. The potatoes were done boiling and she had Sophie drain and mash them with butter and milk, seasoned with some fresh herbs while she went to her room after Edward returned with the packages he’s been sent for and more importantly, an answer to her note. She nearly fainted in relief as she read the instructions for getting Sophie away to have her baby, and took the girl aside to explain the details to her, which made her break out in tears and Maggie had to quiet her down by reminding her to be discreet. In a moment the young girl had straightened herself and wiped the tears away on a napkin, which Maggie told herself mentally to put in the wash, and sent Sophie to her room to pack and get ready for the journey while she packed her some food to eat on the way.

It wasn’t long before Edward returned and ushered the girl to his wagon and let her get as comfortable as possible in the back, where he had made her a nest of sorts using old blankets and then they were gone. Maggie went back into her domain and decided it felt empty and called in one of the new maids, Alice, who was the oldest in a large family and knew her way around a kitchen, albeit a much smaller one than she was used to. She had no trouble falling in, so to speak and tended to know what needed to be done next, which Maggie found comforting and they worked quietly together for the rest of the day and finished up in record time. Telling her new partner when to report in the morning, she thanked her for her help and when Alice had gone she sat down in a clean kitchen far earlier than ever before and she smiled to herself and thanked the Universe for her help finding a place for Sophie and an able replacement.

After about five minutes sitting thus, she decided there was no point in staying and she made her way to the bathroom, and then to her rooms. Having some time on her hands, Maggie got her mending out and repaired several items, then put them in the wash basket with her other dirty laundry, another chore that needed doing soon. Now that she had some decent kitchen help, heating up the great pans of water would be much easier to get done early before it got hot outside, and then it could be hung out to dry in the sunshine, which made it smell nice. She had a soap recipe that she had created; it combined lanolin from the sheep for softness with lavender and other floral essences and she used it for everything from washing the clothes to her face, hair and body. With that thought, Maggie went to her wash stand and poured the tepid water from the pitcher into the bowl and washed herself up with said soap, and felt greatly refreshed. Taking out her journal, she wrote for about half an hour about the day's events, and noted the abundant harvest and her new helper, using a kind of self-made code to discuss Sophie’s departure and where she was going to stay, but making certain that Edward wasn’t indicated in any way with anything, then she read over her notes and corrected some small errors before she dusted the ink and closed the book. What a day it had been, after all, and she gratefully got undressed and got into bed, stretching out and letting her body fully extend and relax for nearly fifteen minutes while letting everything play out again in her mind, satisfied that all had gone well before she rolled over and tucked the sheet under her chin, and fell into a deep sleep which she woke from next morning in the same position in which she’d fallen asleep, her pillow wet with drool and crusty gunk around her eyes. She was stiff when she got out of bed but after getting washed up and changing her pillowcase, it worked itself out and she felt better than she had in weeks.