by Kira Saito
“I’ve been stealing his gold,” she whispered. “I put herbs in his wine, so he falls asleep right after he has his way with me. Then, I steal the key that hangs around his neck and open the chest he keeps in his office. I've been doing this for years. A little bit here and a little bit there so that he won't suspect a thing. I've managed to save quite a bit. I keep it hidden in a hole I dug under a mango tree. No other slave dare accuses me of doing such things, as it will only earn them lashes.”
“Then let’s go dig up that gold and leave now.”
She shook her head. "If we leave tonight it will be too obvious that I ran away with you. Take the position as a driver, and get on Marcel’s good side. Earn his trust, and never look at me when there is another soul around. I won’t show for another few months. Once I do, we will escape before the baby is born.” Her animated voice took a dark turn as she reflected on something that seemed to trouble her immensely.
“What is it?” I asked gently attempting to pull her out of her gloom.
“This plan is selfish of me, isn’t it?” she whispered. “You’re meant to do so much more than be my keeper. I’m sorry, please forget this foolish plan, and pursue the path the loa have set for you.”
“No, that path is noble, but I can feel the destruction that it will bring. When I was captured, held prisoner and shipped over the great sea, Erzulie’s promises were all I could think of. They were the only thing that kept me alive and determined, but that all changed when I saw you.” I gently stroked her soft dimpled cheek with the back of my rough hand. “Now, the promise of our future is the only thing that I look forward to. I’ve learned that life is much too precious to throw away. I too watched everyone I ever loved being murdered brutally in front of me. Let’s fight for us first, then I can take on the role of warrior again, but this time, I will do it within the confines of the law. What they fear more than savage brutality is refined knowledge.”
She looked uncertain at my hopeful attitude. “But, are you sure that this is what you want?”
“The question is, are you sure I am what you want? Or is the lure of freedom the only reason you came here tonight?”
She lowered her lashes and smiled coyly. "No," she whispered. "I've been watching you since the day you arrived," she confessed. "I don't know why. The moment I saw you on the dock, I knew that you were different. I just knew."
Pride surged through me at her words, and I kissed her until every one of her tears dried, and I felt her anxieties vanish. At that second, I felt like a true king who had found his queen. She laughed, and her eyes sparkled. "We sound mad making these confessions to one another."
“The average slave lives for eighteen months after arriving on this island, if we don’t make plans today, when will we make them? It would be foolish not to make plans.”
“Can I sleep here tonight?” she asked quickly. “I’ll be gone before the drivers wake and the first light of day breaks. I just want to be held; that's all."
Without any objection, I pulled her close to me, and we lay in one another’s arms as if we were no more than little children living in a world of infinite possibilities. She told me her fears, hopes, and dreams. I confessed my fears and spoke words that I had never spoken to anyone before. All of the horrors I had seen vanished, and I fell into the most delicious slumber that I had ever experience in my entire life.
When the first rays of the day broke, and a beam of light seeped its way into the cabin, she was gone. Erzulie stood by the door with an angry expression on her beautiful face. “What have you done?” she asked pointedly.
“I’ve gotten out of bed,” I said reaching for a drinking gourd that was full of water.
“You know what I’m talking about. You’ve fallen in love. You’ve made yourself vulnerable to her and her charms. I told you never to fall in love!” she screamed. It was the first time I had heard her raise her voice. She waved her silver dagger in the air as if she was ready to attack. I wasn’t afraid of her. What right did she have interfering in my life?
“Yes, I have fallen in love, which means I reject your plan of terrorizing and killing all of the slave owners on this island. I will rebel against the system, but I will use my intellect to do so.”
“You’re so foolish! So utterly foolish! Blood needs to be shed for a real revolution! Do you think they look past the color of your skin and acknowledge that you have more intelligence than they do? No!”
"That can change, and it will change. I will make sure of it. I've already been promoted to the position of a driver, and soon I will be the manager which means I can go to Le Cap without being questioned. I will escape with Elena.”
“Why her?” she asked her eyes full of outright disgust.
"I can feel her very soul, and it's beautiful. Haven't you ever been in love before?" I asked once again wondering how she had become the spirit of love.
“Love is sacrificing yourself for the good of the people and not some childish fantasy that involves happy endings and raising children who belong to the enemy.”
“I feel sorry for you,” I said.
“No. I feel sorry for you. You’re going to regret your actions.”
“Are you threatening me?” I asked.
“Oui.” With those words, she vanished into thin air leaving me to my thoughts.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Breda Plantation, Saint Domingue, 1727
The Escape
The unforgiving sun beat down on hundreds of tired black bodies as they toiled away on the deceptively beautiful green cane field. Hungry, weary, desperate and hope broken beyond all belief, they didn’t dare look me in the eye. Exactly three months had passed since the day that my life had taken yet another dramatic turn. I was now an official driver at Breda Plantation. Unlike the rest of the drivers, I was easy with the whip, and fast to look the other way when I saw a slave take a quick rest or eat some of the cane that temptingly lingered in front of them day in and day out.
I strutted through the fields with my head held high and a look of anger behind my bright blue eyes to inspire the maximum amount of terror and fear possible. It was all an act, of course. In reality, I was the happiest I had ever been in my entire life. My relationship with Elena had blossomed into the type of romance, friendship and partnership that I had once believed was impossible between a man and a woman. We met daily long after the sun went down, and the master was drunk with herb-laced wine that put him in an unsuspecting coma full of demons and strange whispers.
Like free people, we swam naked in the rivers that surrounded the plantation. Under the stars, we feasted on mangoes, figs, cashews and sweet cakes and wine that Elena would steal from the big house. I refused to ask her any questions about her ongoing relationship with Pierre because of the jealousy and madness it would provoke in me. I knew that her heart and soul belonged to me even when her body didn’t. I hadn’t made love to her. I was unwilling to do so until the baby was born, and we were safely in Le Cap. Tonight was the night we would make our great escape, and I was counting down the minutes until the sun would set. Erzulie was still furious at me and had refused to speak to me since the day I had confessed my feelings for Elena. Perhaps, it was better that way. I figured if we couldn’t agree on how to carry out a revolution, there would be no way we would be successful in its execution.
After the long, grueling day had come to an end. I walked back to my filthy cabin with a stern expression on my face. The slave women looked at me bitterly unable to understand why I had suddenly stopped accepting their nightly offering of food in exchange for sex. They assumed it was my newly found position that had made me change my ways. I closed the rickety door behind me. I dug up the small axes and other weapons that I had collected over the past few months along with the stash of gold that Elena had trusted me with. I nervously paced the room reviewing our escape route and how we would have to carefully avoid getting the attention of the vicious underfed hounds that had an appetite for human blood.
; Hours had passed before I heard a knock on the door. Her sweet voice sounded strained. I didn't make anything out of it as the situation we found ourselves in was distressing enough. I opened the door and was relieved to see her standing there with the moonlight gleaming in her eyes and bouncing off her shiny hair. I immediately took her in my arms, but she was stiff and lifeless as if she were no more than a mere stuffed toy filled with hard straw. “Elena, are you okay, don’t worry, before you know it, we’ll be in Le Cap.” I softly stroked her hair with my right hand.
My words didn't have the slightest impact on her. She remained stiff, and her eyes were wide with fright. It took me a moment to realize that we were being watched. My attention turned towards three figures that stood under a nearby mango tree, the master, Marcel and another driver. “He knows. He found out. I don’t know how, but he found out,” she whispered listlessly as if half believing the words she spoke.
I didn’t give into fear. Without a thought, I took her into my arms and ran as fast as I could through the empty campground. It was futile as more drivers were waiting for us and within moments we were surrounded in all directions. Guns pointed at us; hungry hounds encircled us, and the smell of revenge hung thick in the air. "Put me down," she said. "It's okay. I'm not afraid to die as long as it's by your side."
The master stood in front of us with an evil grin on his pale face and outright disgust in his eyes. “Erzulie! You promised never to abandon me. If I'm the promised king, please help me fight this battle!" I stared up at the velvety night sky, and listened for an indication that she was near. I was greeted with her stubborn silence only. I had betrayed her, and now she was going to make me pay for my crimes.
"What on earth is the savage ranting about?" the master asked Marcel.
Marcel responded with an equal amount of disgust. “The pathetic slaves believe that a savior is coming to free them from the institution of slavery.”
The master laughed and laughed until the rest of the drivers were forced to laugh along with him. I looked at their dark faces and wasn’t surprised that they weren’t on my side. Cruelty didn’t discriminate based on color. It discriminated based on wealth and power. “And what do you think about that, Marcel?” asked the master.
“I think it’s the most ridiculous thing that I have ever heard.”
“And you!” The master’s attention turned to Elena. He grabbed her by her wrist and pulled her close. “After all of the mercies I’ve bestowed on you, you still decide to betray me with this savage. I should have you fed to the hounds,” he hissed before covering her mouth in a kiss.
"No!" I tried to pull her away from him, but I was bound and shackled in chains which covered my wrists and my ankles.
“Shut-up! You savage!” He put his gun into my mouth and was prepared to pull the trigger.
“Please, stop,” Elena pleaded. “I promise never to run away again. I don’t know what got into me. One of the slaves must have put a spell on me which enticed me to behave in such a reckless manner.” Her voice was soft and smooth as silk. I could see the master’s muscles relax. She softly stroked his hand, and he removed the gun from my mouth. She covered his face in devotional kisses, and my heart shattered into a million pieces. I wish she would have let him kill me instead of putting herself through the motions she despised. “Please let him live, and I will be your slave until the day I die.”
Pleased by her outright begging and seduced by her kisses, he pointed the rifle at the group of drivers. “If anyone ever tries to run away or even so looks at her again, I will kill him on the spot. I will let the savage live, but I cannot let his crimes go unpunished.”
I stood upright, tall and proud. I wasn’t afraid of death, or perhaps within the depths of my soul, I knew that Erzulie would rescue me at the last minute. Elena was unable to meet my eyes as she placed her arms around the master and lovingly massaged the back of his neck. “Wake the other slaves and tie him to a tree.”
The drivers fired their pistols in the air, and within minutes, we were surrounded by half asleep slaves who undoubtedly knew the drill. Their faces were glum under the glow of fiery torches, and they stood silent and with bated breath at what was to come. I remained silent as I was shackled to a tree and surrounded by the slaves, drivers, hounds, the master, and Elena.
“You’ve seen it many times before, but I will have to keep repeating these terrible acts until your savages learn that you cannot touch the master's property and expect to get away with it." Elena's wild sobs filled the air which only fueled the master's anger further. "Marcel the machete."
The air was thick with fear. I couldn't recognize the faces that surrounded me even though I saw them regularly. The blade of the sharp machete glistened under the moonlight, and a sudden hatred overtook me. It wasn't a pointed hatred at the ugly master himself, but at the god he served. I caught a glimpse of the cross that hung around his neck and vowed to destroy this god. I ripped off the cross that hung around my neck and tossed it at the feet of the driver.
The master laughed as he picked up the cross and placed it in his shirt pocket. “I am your god! My god doesn’t hear the voices of slaves. He serves the wealthy and the privileged only! Marcel, chop off his arm. The one that holds the hand that he used to touch my Elena.”
Marcel’s expression was stony as he approached me with the machete. The slaves huddled together in outright fear and terror. I suppose it didn’t matter how many times they saw such brutality, it always remained fresh in their minds, and they worried they could be next. The last thing I saw before I closed my eyes was Elena’s face full of torment, tears, and heartache. I gave her a small smile. As the machete hacked off my right arm, I didn't scream. I heard the sobs and cries of the slaves as they looked on in horror. "I don't want him to die. Death would be too good for him. Cover his wound, and feed his arm to the hounds." I cursed the invisible god of this bastard and silently told Erzulie that she had been right. Terror needed to be met with terror. Her grand design for my life also become clearer, she too hated the god of the cross because he was the wrong god. The real God was going to use me as His vessel to birth his real kingdom into this world. All of this suffering would end, but blood needed to be shed before that could happen.
The slaves covered their mouths and stifled screams as the hounds devoured my muscular arm as if it was no different from any other meat. I watched in silence. It was a sacrifice, a sacrifice that would signal that I was ready for battle, and I would be the king that these people were so desperately looking for.
Later that night, numb with massive amounts of whiskey that had been shoved down my throat, I lay in bed and looked at the space that was beside me. It was the space where Elena had laid. I loved her even more for having the courage to save me, but I would never show any weakness to Erzulie again. My heart would be cold as ice, and I would rule with an iron first.
She appeared to me wearing a humble black silk dress, and a sea green headdress that matched the color of the cane fields. "Do you see now?" she asked. There was no sympathy in her voice, only accusations that my fate could have been avoided if I listened to her.
“Their god needs to be destroyed, doesn’t he? The one who makes them commit such horrible acts of violence. The one who tells them to enslave our people?”
"Yes, I was told in the Kongo that this is the god who likes to enslave and kill. He's not the god that exists in heaven. Don't you see the real God wants you to be his representative on earth? To end these horrific practices and set the people free. To let them live in peace."
“I’m ready. I’m ready to accept this destiny.”
“And the girl?” she asked suspiciously.
“She is nothing. Nobody. She is inferior and is happy with her bondage,” I lied. I would conquer this island and find my way back to her.
She examined me intently, and her expression softened. “I will make sure your wound will heal. Tonight you need to get rest. Tomorrow night I will help you escape. I know the entire ge
ography of the Plaine du Norde, so no one will be able to track you. The Maroons and spirits are waiting on the mountains. Once you are initiated all of their power will be yours. They have pledged allegiance to our cause and are not afraid to shed blood. The time for war has come. The time for vita is here.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Saint Domingue, 1727
The Art of Terror
The next night, a tropical storm raged. It brought with it bolts of angry lightning, torrential rain, and gusts of mighty wind that howled and moaned with a fierce vengeance. The cattle, chickens, horses and dogs all sung in despair. The other slaves whispered that this storm was one unlike one they had ever seen before, and a king was about to come into his powers. The shabby roof rattled, and the little cabin trembled in dread. “It’s time to go,” she said. I couldn’t see her, but I could hear her. Without question, I opened the creaky cabin door and ran. I ran despite the gunshots and the vicious hounds that were on my trail. "Don't look back," she said calmly and without a hint of worry that her plans would fail, and I would be caught. I felt Erzulie's spirit guide each and every one of my steps.
A supernatural power infused me as I swam with one arm through a river with water so cold that my body was half-paralyzed. I ignored the needle-like tree branches and knife like rocks that were determined to draw fresh blood from my already abused body. I didn’t count the days and nights I kept moving. I didn't stop for a drink of water or food, as I navigated my way through cane fields, deep valleys, lush jungles that housed deadly animals and beautiful forests that held centuries old sacred mapou trees. The more I ran, the more powerful my body became. Everything was alive, the rocks, blades of grass, rays of sunlight and moonbeams. The spiritual and physical worlds were clashing, and I saw the spirit behind every solid object.
