Blood Moon (The Mercy Carver Series Book 2)

by Jana Petken

  Charlie groaned and thumped the table with a clenched fist. Mercy had never seen him so angry. “Hell’s fire, Lina.”

  “Charlie, what’s the matter?” Mercy asked, getting worried now.

  “I’ll tell you what’s the matter! This woman of mine has it in her stubborn head to take a runaway slave up through the wetlands tonight in the back of a wagon, and I told her it’s a damn fool idea.” He pointed at Lina. “I reckon if I have to tie you to the bed to stop you from going, that’s what I’ll do.”

  Mercy flicked her eyes to Lina, sitting as straight as a poker with an obstinate expression that Mercy now knew so well. When Lina was in this mood, there was no reasoning with her. “Lina, you have a slave? When …? Where is he – or is it a she?”

  “He’s a young man, not yet eighteen, or thereabouts – he don’t really know. I got him in the basement, and I got the key so no one can get in there. He came into town last night all skin and bone, dressed in rags with his back still bloodied from a whuppin’. He was scared to death – it was only through the grace of our Lord that he was picked up by one of my associates, who very kindly brought him to me. Now Charlie here says he don’t want me to do my job, but I ain’t gonna let this one get caught, not the way every man in uniform is acting – like they want to kill every Northerner and string up every nigger trying to make a run for freedom. I ain’t gonna let him down. He’s just a boy.”

  Mercy said, “How are you planning to get him up to the border? I presume you’re talking about Delaware? You know a lot more about this than I do, but it’s not going to be easy, not with all these hot-headed buffoons running loose. Charlie’s right. I don’t think the Underground Railroad should be running anytime soon, not until all this hoopla dies down.”

  “Listen to you with your American words. I liked you better when you spoke all the time in that peculiar way of yours. Didn’t tell me what to do then neither,” Lina said indignantly.

  Mercy felt Lina’s irate stare. She blushed, lowered her eyes, and squirmed uncomfortably in the chair. She had never been on the receiving end of one of Lina’s tantrums, but when she looked up again, she could see by Charlie’s expression that unless the situation was defused, there would be some sharp words coming. “Lina, do you really want to do this? You know I’ll go with you gladly, but even if you’re familiar with every rock and bush from here to Delaware, it doesn’t change the fact that from here to the border, every rock and bush will be crawling with soldiers who are itching to get into a fight. Please don’t do this.”

  “Child, for your information, I ain’t going all the way to Delaware. I’m no fool, and there ain’t no need for you to get involved. For all I care, you and Charlie can stay here and bake cookies for those Federals that’ll be walking in here any time now, but I’m going, and there ain’t no changin’ my mind.”

  “The captain lost his boat,” Charlie said gruffly to Mercy. “One of the militias took it just as soon as Virginia declared – they say it’s the duty of every Virginian to make sacrifices.” He then told Lina, “The Confederates will hang you as a traitor if they catch you, and no wife of mine is getting strung up. Now, I don’t want to hear no more about this. I figure it’s time we headed back to the cabin. I’ve had enough of war and it ain’t even started yet.”

  “And leave your boardin’ house in the hands of those damn Yankees figuring on comin’ here? ’Cause that’s what’ll happen,” Lina flung at Charlie. “They’ll come in and strip it bare, and you know it.”

  “I don’t give a damn what it ends up like, just so long as it don’t end up as a secret hidin’ place for runaway slaves. I don’t want nothing to do with any of this damn stupidity. I’d rather hunt bears and trap rabbits than see this unholy spectacle unfold. Honey, I promised to protect you until the day I die, and that’s what I aim to do – not to mention I promised Jacob that I would look after Mercy.”

  Lina softened. She held Charlie’s hand, leaned in, and kissed him on the cheek. “I love you Charlie, I surely do, but you have to let me take this boy up. He’ll be the last one, I promise. There’ll be hundreds of niggers making a run for it in the coming weeks or months, but whether they’ll be successful or not is now in the hands of the good Lord, not in mine. So I’m asking you to give me your permission to see this last one through before we head to the cabin – please, Charlie. I aim on goin’ through with this, but I don’t want to go with you all riled up.”

  Mercy sensed Lina’s sadness. All these years of hard work and effort to free slaves would be but memories for her now, she thought, for even Lina must know that to make attempts at any of the borders by land would be far too dangerous in the near future. “Charlie, if she’s set her mind on this, I’m going with her,” Mercy said. “You know you won’t talk her out of it, and she’ll never let you tie her to the bed. I’ll have my revolver and my rifle, and it’ll be dark, Charlie. The rushes and brambles are really high, and there are woods for cover. No one will see us in the dark amongst all that greenery.”

  “What makes you think you know anything?” Charlie said sternly. “You ain’t never gone up the bay by land, so you ain’t got nothin’ to say. I been here near on thirty-one years, and I still don’t know it all.”

  “I saw plenty of land from the deck of the steamship and on the captain’s boat when we took Nelson up,” Mercy replied defiantly. She waited for Charlie to speak again. His decision would be final, and even Lina would know to stop talking when Charlie put his foot down. As though they were her own, Mercy sensed the tumultuous thoughts that must be running through his mind. He had never forbidden Lina to work with the Underground Railroad, but his family in Mississippi owned slaves, and he had always refused to take part in its activities.

  Charlie looked at both women in turn and sighed with exasperation. “God damn it, I want to knock both your heads together. Listen here, you both need to take an oath on the good Lord’s Bible that this will be the last time. That’s the only way I’m goin’ to allow this. You’re both as stubborn as each other. That Jacob Stone will have my hide if anything happens to you, Mercy. You know that, don’t you?”

  Lina kissed her husband on the cheek and beamed at Mercy. “You rest up today, child. You hear me? We got a long ride ahead of us …”

  Chapter Six

  The wagon left Newport News around midnight with Lina, Mercy, and the young black man called Seth. Lina had filled the back of the wagon with belongings that she and Charlie planned to take with them to the cabin on her return. There was a small oak sideboard, waist high, a couple of chairs, a trunk, and a mattress. She had hidden Seth behind the mattress, which would give him some cover should they be stopped. “It ain’t gonna be enough to shield the boy, should a body be determined to do a proper search,” Lina told Mercy. “But if a body was lazy and didn’t pay no heed to what was behind the bulk of the contents in the wagon, it would be a good enough hiding place.”

  This undertaking had not been as well planned as Lina’s previous endeavours. Usually a network of captains and crewmen on river boats were used, taking the responsibility from Lina. She rarely took land routes north, preferring to smuggle slaves up the river on vessels and touching land only when they reached the borders, she’d told Mercy. However, she did know around twenty miles of the Chesapeake Bay land strip, and as far as she was concerned, that was more than enough to see Seth to the handoff she had in mind.

  Lina knew just about every safe house and person involved in the Underground Railroad, from Newport News right up to the very top of the peninsula. After twenty years, this tightly knit network of people smugglers had come to feel like family to her. No people involved ever turned slaves away but instead moved them as far as they could, until they were eventually handed off to the next persons in the chain.

  The organisation was well structured. Members never knew when co -conspirators would turn up at their door with runaways, but they were always ready to play their part, just as Lina had insisted on doing on this occasion.
These people were devoted to their cause. Some were deep-rooted abolitionists; others were sympathisers and believed it their Christian duty to set their fellow men and women free from chains. All members swore an oath of allegiance, sometimes passing the mantle to their children when they came of age. No one was forced to join. It was, Lina stated, an individual’s measure of conscience that dictated participation.

  Lina had calculated that it would take them no more than three hours to reach Garrett’s safe house, a farm some twelve miles up the wetlands and wooded route. It was a difficult drive, she told Mercy, and not one she liked taking with a wagon. There was flat agricultural land for a few miles, but then they would encounter soggy ground thick with undergrowth. Seth would be handed over to Mr Garret, a man Lina knew well and trusted implicitly.

  So far, the journey had been smooth, without any major catastrophes. They had met some rough terrain, at times awkward to manoeuvre through bramble bushes, waterlogged marshes, and thickets. But the moon was almost full in a crisp and clear sky, which gave the land a stunning deep blue hue and afforded good visibility. They had but two miles to go, and not a living soul had been spotted since they had left the outskirts of Newport News; however, Lina decided to rest the horses after they’d struggled across a particularly difficult couple of miles of uneven ground.

  The wagon stopped at a riverbank. Mercy led the horses to a small pebbled area at the water’s edge and watched them drink. She then moved them and the wagon to a clearing just behind a coppice of bushes and rushes. She waited patiently until the horses had pulled and ground their teeth on the sparse grassy roots and then knotted the lead rope around a tree. She picked up a couple of oat pouches, slung one strap of each over each horse’s neck, and then secured the pouches under the horses’ mouths before returning to the river.

  Mercy was in an optimistic mood. They had made good time, and according to Lina’s calculations, they were only about thirty minutes away from Garrett’s farm. She took a handful of water and splashed it on her face. Her body ached, and she could not shake off the weariness that plagued her. Just before leaving the hotel, she had concluded that wearing a dress was a silly idea and had put on the breeches, shirt, braces, and jacket that she loved so much. As always, Eddie’s hat sat on her head, hiding her hair and half her face.

  She could not get Jacob out of her thoughts. She had promised him that she’d be good. She wouldn’t stray again or put herself in danger, she’d told him. He’d only been gone four days, but every minute of every day since then had seemed endless as she struggled to come to terms with his absence yet again.

  She dismissed her guilt as quickly as it had descended. They would be back at the hotel by morning. She would write to Jacob, telling him that she was going to the cabin, the safest place in Virginia, she thought. No one would be any the wiser, and another slave would be on his way to freedom.

  Mercy looked up. Lina was sitting a few feet from her, giving encouraging words to Seth. Mercy smiled. Lina could be crabby at times, but she had a kind heart and the gift of empathy. Lina was not complaining about being tired, Mercy noted, splashing her face again, so neither would she.

  “Mercy, Seth here wants to know what freedom feels like and what he should do with it. I told him it’s a state of mind, no matter if a body’s a slave or not a slave. Ain’t no man can enslave another man’s heart and soul, ’cause them would be belongin’ to God almighty. How would you describe freedom?”

  Mercy pondered a good answer for just a second and then decided to say exactly what she felt. “Well, this might sound silly, but I felt free when I walked across a long bridge that stood high above a wide river running through London. I was forbidden to do that, but when I disobeyed my grandparents, it felt like the first time I had ever made a decision on my own. On that day, I chose to walk down any street I fancied and talk to anyone I wanted without permission. I even sat in a restaurant all by myself. I will never forget that feeling, Seth, and you won’t forget the first time you get to choose what to eat, where to walk, or where to sleep at night. You won’t have to answer to anyone. You will have to find a way to earn your living, though, no matter how menial the job is. You will need a bed to rest on, a place for shelter, and food to eat. Money is not something you have ever known, but you will have need of it, so you just concentrate on your talents …”

  “What talents they be, Miss Mercy?” Seth asked her.

  Mercy gathered some more water in her palms and laughed. “Oh, I don’t know, but I’m sure you’ll …” She stopped talking and pricked her ears. Her smile froze. Her eyes widened. The water, still cupped in her hands, trickled through her fingers in mid-air. The sound of horses’ hooves and rushes being shifted and trampled upon was getting louder and closer by the second. She put her finger to her lips, gesturing to Lina and Seth to remain perfectly still and quiet.

  The thud of horses’ hooves halted. She could hear two male voices, loud and boisterous. They were only yards from her sheltered position in the rushes. Horses were whinnying. Oh, dear God, the men were at the wagon. She gestured to Lina and Seth, telling them with her hands to lie flat amongst the tall bushes. Silence reigned for just a moment, save for water flowing over and between river rocks.

  Mercy curled up in a foetus position and prayed. She heard heavy footsteps. They were heading straight for her. She closed her eyes and recited the Our Father in her head, fighting the fear that crawled up and down her spine, making her shiver. The swishing sound of undergrowth being disturbed stopped, yet she knew she dared not lift her head to see who was there. The familiar click of a gun being cocked was directly above her. She opened her eyes, looked up, and saw the two men looking down at her.

  “Well now, looky here – a white woman and two niggers cowering like fugitives,” the man closest to Mercy said. “Now that ain’t a sight you see every night. What you reckon, Kyle? I do believe we caught ourselves a couple of runaways and a do-gooder with a real nice shapely form.”

  “She has that, Joe, and damn pretty too,” the man called Kyle replied, “but I reckon that old nigger woman here don’t look like she’s got no runnin’ left in her. Go on now – on your feet, old woman,” he said to Lina.

  Lina stood up with clenched fists, faced the two men, and tossed her head in the air. “I ain’t no nigger. I’ve been a free woman for thirty years, and I ain’t got more than one-quarter nigger blood in me, you ignorant boys.”

  “Feisty. Old but feisty,” Kyle said. “Well, you sure as hell look like a nigger to me, and what looks like a nigger and talks like a nigger is a nigger.”

  “Lady, state your business with them,” the man called Joe said, staring down at Mercy. “You weren’t figuring on helping them run, were you? We don’t take kindly to white folks helpin’ niggers to run. That would be like stealing a hard-working man’s property right from under him.”

  Mercy shook her head, looked up at him for just a second, and then slowly and carefully stood up to face him. She held his eyes and casually buttoned up her jacket in an attempt to hide her Colt and holster. She took in their appearance, playing for time by fumbling slightly on the stony ground. They were dirty, like scavengers. They carried old smooth-bore muskets that looked exactly like Charlie’s up at the cabin. They were carelessly draped over their shoulders and attached to leather straps. Both men had old Colts in their hands, though they were not being pointed at them for the moment. They were a slightly odd shape with a longer barrel, Mercy noted. They were probably older and no match for hers in speed and range. She sensed their enthusiastic desire for a fight and quickly concluded that no amount of charming words or gestures would appease the two men.

  Joe had a gaunt face with a stubbly chin and untidy hair. She noted that most of his teeth were missing and that his uneducated accent had probably originated from a small rural holding or farm. He pointed his gun at her chest just as she brought herself to full height. The other man, Kyle, was standing in the shadows. She couldn’t see his facial features
. He had his gun aimed at Seth and Lina, also standing and huddling together a couple of feet from Mercy.

  “Well, what you got to say for yourself, little lady?” Joe asked Mercy.

  “It’s none of your business where I’m going, and for your information, this boy is my nigger,” she said, pointing to Seth, “and this lady is as free as I am, so I suggest you step aside and let us be on our way.” She stood nonchalantly with her hands by her side, staring back at him without flinching. “We have a long way to go, and we’re minding our own business, so why don’t you do the same and leave us alone. There’s no need to hold us up like … like you’re a couple of bandits. We’ve done nothing wrong, and we’ve got no valuables to give you.”

  The soldier peered into her face, smiling meanly. “You ain’t going nowhere, lady. Where you from anyhow? You don’t sound like no Southern woman to me.”

  “As it happens, I’m not. I’m from England. I’m English and proud of it. I’m engaged to be married to a Southern gentleman. He’s in one of the Virginia militias, and he won’t be pleased that you’re asking me all these questions whilst pointing your stupid gun at me.”

  Joe laughed. As he glided his tongue across his lips, Kyle looked on with amusement. “You sure are a pretty little thing, and you got guts – I’ll say that for you – but I ain’t buying that story,” he said, pointing to Lina and Seth with his gun. “No, sir, I sure ain’t. I know runaways when I see them. Your woman here – is she your mammy?”

  “No, she is not. She told you; she’s a free woman,” Mercy told him.

  “Don’t matter if she is. They ain’t got no business being out here. Ain’t that right?” he said to Kyle.

  “Yep, I reckon we should just string them up here – it’ll teach the rest of them niggers not to run away, should they happen to pass by these rotting corpses.”

  Kyle then turned to Mercy. “You sit your sweet little ass up on that wagon and git. Ain’t no way they’re going free just ’cause you and Mr Lincoln want them to.”