Pirates of Savannah Trilogy: Book One, Sold in Savannah - Young Adult Action Adventure Historical Fiction

by Tarrin P. Lupo

“Savannah is growing so fast it seems like they move the bloody Palisades outward every week. Let us walk this way toward the river," Mr. Freeman instructed, "and I will show you the exotic plants over in the trustees’ garden.”

  The men wandered to the bluff and came across a garden adorned with a small herb house. “This is Oglethorpe’s pride and joy, the Trustees’ garden. It is modeled after the Chelsea Botanical garden in London. The mental bastard spent a king’s ransom on having plants delivered to him from the four corners of the world. All sorts of exotic plants were first soiled here, but the first frost killed most of them. There was apple, pear, olive, fig, coffee trees, and cotton. Bamboo plants, indigo, coconut palms, hemp, oranges and many various herbs to assist a doctor. The money crop was intended to be mulberry trees for silkworms. Oglethorpe dreamed he could use them to feed silkworm and spin silk. The garden used to be well tended when Francis Moore was here, but it is now falling quickly into disarray. This is typical of anything owned by government," Archibald spit. "Nobody’s ever held accountable and anything the king touches turns to muck. You would never see a farmer let his own land go that way. It's a shame.” Freeman looked longingly at the failing garden and shaking his head silently with disgust.

  “What’s that mound of rocks in the middle of the garden for?” Patrick inquired.

  “That is a pyramid burial mound of one of the Yamacraw savages,” Archibald answered. “The Yamacraw locals were very helpful to Oglethorpe. In return, he respects their ways. He even promised their chief not to disturb any resting souls.”

  "Ah," Patrick mouthed with understanding. There were so many new, alien customs and strange sights. It was the only response he could muster.

  Archibald continued still gazing upon the garden. “Now all that is really growing well are the oranges, apples, and the hemp. Us regular Savannians refer to this place as Oglethorpe’s folly! Now don’t let any of the lobsterbacks hear you saying such or you will be hanging from a gallows. That Oglethorpe does not care to be mocked.”

  Patrick nodded earnestly. He wanted to impress upon his new master he understood. Archibald could sense Patrick's seriousness so he joked, "Well that will be one shilling for the tour. You'll have to pay me in credit I am assuming." Patrick smiled and Archibald concluded, “Let us get you to the tailor now.”

  The men went to the Broughton side of market-square and knocked on the door of a humble house. A large breasted maiden answered the door hastily. Her hair was disheveled and her dress was hugging her sweaty chest. She clutched a stuffed linen ball full of needles close to her full chest.

  Archibald removed his hat and politely inquired, “Good morrow, Prudence. Is your father here? I need my friend here fitted for some work linens.”

  She loudly cussed up, “No, the fen-sucked reds got him working for free again mending their coats in their quarters. Those heavy wool, red coats are made by that company in Charles Towne called the South Carolina Independent Company. They make fine wear but the buttons are always ripping off or the sleeves being singed by lamp-fire. Those red coats catch fire, they go up like a Viking funeral pyre.” Prudence was visibly upset and spouted, “The swag-bellied varlots! Making him come to them and fix their wares for nothin'!”

  “Quiet, love. Your tongue is too loose in open air,” Archibald hushed Prudence.

  “I just hate those red leeches so much! I hope the scuts get the pox!" Prudence responded with a little more restraint. She sighed and remembered the business at hand. “What are you two larks standing around for? Well, show him in and I can get his numbers.”

  Both men looked nervously at each other. “Um, ma’am, we cannot enter the domicile of a lady with no man home,” Archibald nervously explained.

  “For the Lord's sake!" she exclaimed. "Fine! I’ll do it in the yard to reassure the world that you two not be taking advantage of me. Fie!”

  Patrick was instructed to stand on a stump while she used marked cords of hemp to measure.

  “This is Patrick, our new indenture. He will be smithing with me. He needs hemp fiber if possible, something sturdy and protective around fire,” Archibald propositioned.

  “Yes, I know how to make a bloody smithing outfit! You know I am a grown woman!” she snapped.

  “Yes, and such a refined and proper young lady you grew into,” Archibald smirked.

  “Curse you, you flap-mouthed, Scottish, dress-wearing clack-dish. I hear your Scottish brogue you so desperately trying to conceal,” she warned him.

  “Stand still will you!” she snapped at Patrick as she ran her hand up to measure his inseam.

  This was the first time a woman had ever touched Patrick. Since coming to Savannah, he had been exposed to so many women. It was wreaking havoc on his senses and concentration. He tried his hardest not to squirm on the stump.

  “I got all I need," Prudence stated. "Come back in two weeks for a final fitting and me father will figure out the silver with you. Also, I would like to come call on Heather tonight to join Mari Anna and me in listening to Wes’s fiddle,” she half asked, half told.

  Archibald responded, “If she is finished with her chores, I see no discord. Mentioning Mari Anna, is she baking today?”

  “I smelled that heavenly corn bread in the air this morning. You best hurry and go get you some. I know she is low on corn flour, it might be the last of it for an age,” Prudence urged.

  Patrick pointed to a long line of redcoats at a nearby house. “What is that huge line for?”

  “Ah, lad. That is the food line for the government workers. They stand in this sun for hours to get some rancid meat and rotting fruit. The first few years of the colony were the worst. I remember when everyone was forced to take Oglethorpe’s handouts to live on. The founding settlers quickly over hunted the area and were completely dependent on what the traders brought in. They paid very little money to the local Yamacraw tribe, so the Indians only sold them the worst meat and fruit.” Archibald explained. “In short time, the people discovered how poorly their needs are handled if they trust the government to take care of them. A free market exploded very quickly and the quality of everything got better. Still those tied to the king, like the soldiers and bureaucrats there, are completely dependent on that disgusting slop. I guess we could still get the spoiled meat if we wanted to but no self-respecting man I know would take it. Do not forget how the food is actually paid for; silver is taken from the rest of us to pay for it. I can’t take that grub in good conscience because I know the funds to buy it were stolen from my family and neighbors by redcoat threats and force.”

  The men departed with a wave to Prudence and continued back into the square where a small covered booth was standing. A queue five deep was waiting to purchase warm bread. The line was intoxicated with the smell of fresh bread. A father and daughter worked behind a table and were quickly running out. The blacksmiths waited anxiously in line hoping to buy some before there was no more.

  The old, heavy man behind the counter then barked, “Your timing is that of a hawk, Mr. Freeman. We are down to our last loaf.”

  “I have always had outstanding luck, Mr. Dandridge,” Archibald playfully responded.

  “Good morrow, Mr. Freeman! Who’s your companion?” The daughter queried.

  “Miss Mari Anna Dandridge, let me introduce you to Patrick Willis, our new indenture,” Archibald proclaimed and then bowed.

  Patrick took in the beautiful young lady. Dark braided hair fell out of the cooking hood and onto her shoulders. She had a thin linen white dress and a cooking apron. She wore no gloves but her hands were not bug welted like everyone else. Working around a fire all day kept bugs from biting her delicate hands. Patrick bowed formally and stated, “My honor, lady.”

  Archibald then interrupted the formalities. “My daughter and the lady Prudence,” he snickered, “Would like you to join them tonight to go hear the bard sing. If your goodly father bestows his
blessings, I will escort you ladies to and fro.”

  “Yes, I grant my blessing, but those three are like molasses. Enjoy yourself escorting them, Freeman,” Mr. Dandridge grumbled. Mari Anna then threw her arms around her smiling father and hugged him like a black bear.

  Changing the subject, Archibald asked, “Mr. Dandridge, how did you get corn this early in the season?”

  Mari Anna answered for her father. “The redskin deer pelt traders brought it up from the south. I suppose the winter was mild enough to plant early down there. Sometimes, if they are real lucky, they get two crops out of one season.” Silver was then exchanged for the bread and the blacksmiths walked off as they split a piece of hot bread.

  “Ok, lad, it’s time you earn all this food and clothing. Let me go teach you how to make nails,” the wigged man said as the returned home.