Mam' Tiére took the weeping child from Orke's arms, and, accompanied by a large contingent of wenches, they disappeared within the common house. Cook tapped a keg and the captain led us all in a toast and spontaneous tribute to Orke, the saviour of our little angel. As we drank, Orke explained to me how he happened to be at that spot at the right time.
It seems our man Forbes, the one designated to hike up and notify the captain when all was ready for the festivities, considered that chore was enough due from him. When all was set up and things were in order, Mam' Tiére searched about for Forbes. She was informed by Leona that he was spotted meandering toward the black quarters with Naomi and a jug of rum, hours afore. Naomi! Now there was a ripe plum with a pit-size brain! Leona was set to fetch them, but Mam' told her no. Forbes'd be too far besotted by now. Orke overheard and volunteered to hike out to the captain's quarters.
When half a league gone, he saw a man approaching at a fast clip; it was the captain, hisself. Most out of breath, the captain told Orke he had no time for explanations, that Annalea was missing and they must make for the settlement. Orke held the captain back and informed him that he'd just come direct from the settlement and Annalea was not there. Then the captain explained what had happened, giving Orke the details that we knew. Without a word–not so much as a fare-thee-well–Orke lit out a-running, leaving the captain standing in the path, amid-sentence.
Orke had heard enough! He'd been with Macathwee, out on a routine forage, when he'd plucked those flowers for Annalea. So Orke knew the place to go. He also knew the why, since he'd recently come upon Macathwee taking liberties with a black child down behind the quarters. He said he'd let that one go with a smack upside Macathwee's head. So Orke was off with determination, and arrived on the spot at the critical moment. The rest I've told you.
By now, it was past nightfall. Lanterns, hung from every available overhang early in the day, were all lighted, and decorations hung from rope and bough festooned the open area. A mild breeze played these ornaments mischievously, creating strange shadow dances upon buildings and ground. A feast had been prepared and left, thus far, untouched. People milled about, chatting rather quietly. There were all the makings of a banquet, save the guest of honour. But all understood the why of it. And all understood there would probably be no festivities that night. Yet we all stayed where we were, to await the outcome.
As I reviewed the events leading to this moment, I chastised meself for errors of judgement and conduct. Many things should've been done differently. More precautions should have been taken. And, mayhaps, more attention paid to the fact that Annalea was not a wee child, anymore. She was not yet a woman. No, far from it. But she was well on her way to becoming one. How do I prepare her for that? How do I prepare for that?
Presently, the womenfolk rejoined us. In their midst was Annalea, all cleaned up, looking beautiful–and smiling. Everyone gave a thundering cheer for Annalea.
When it quieted a bit, Annalea said, "Am I too late to sup? I've not eaten all day."
The assembly broke out in a roaring chorus of laughter, sparked more by relief than humour. Me mates started playing music, the wenches started serving food, and the festivities were underway.
Mam' Tiére came over to me and said, "Da li'l 'princess' be fine. She know dis bad stuff none of her fault. We tol' her, sometime good folk jes' git caught up in da devil's doin's. An' da's all dis was. As what mo' she need ta know, yo' an' me'll speak, later."
With that, I joined Annalea, singing in the midst of the crowd. She gave me such a hug as near squeezed the life from me. And I gave her a kiss that placed me heart on her cheek. As I held that treasure in me arms, it was self-evident the great debt I owed me mate, Orke. Without Orke, there'd be no more Annalea. And there was a time when a sane man would bet all his holdings there'd be no more Orke!
Annalea, Princess of Nemusmar Page 5
