Stephanie's Slavery (Brackish Bay Book 2)

by Cerise Noble

  All who wished to live with us had to be obedient to our laws. Women could be free or property, as they pleased. But women who caused trouble, who would not obey the laws as free women, were given as slaves to men who did obey and kept the peace. Men also were required to obey the laws as free men. Those who did not were given a single chance, if the infraction was mild, and none, if it was severe. The consequences included death for murder or violent rape, and sale in the village as a slave for less severe infractions.

  Gerard, having been a soldier himself, created and led the men who were or wished to be skilled in war. Jeffery and Devon soon commanded a fleet of boats, the fish they brought in both feeding us and providing goods for trade. Tobin spent days in building, his skin darkening even further in the sun, his muscles hardening from shifting heavy loads.

  The day the house was finished was a holiday for everyone. Roy had commissioned gifts for all the adults from the metalworker. It was chain. Those free men and women who had joined his village and pledged their obedience to him and his House received a thin chain with a small medallion, the sigil of the House inscribed on it. Those who formed the core of his men—Tobin, Gerard, Jeffery, and Devon—received thicker chains with larger medallions. Roy himself wore the largest medallion. Slaves received thin or thicker chains, fastened around their throats with a small padlock. Jessica wore a medallion on her slave chain. Jacqueline and I received only a chain and padlock.

  The metal felt strange on my skin. For a long time Tobin had made a rule that I must wear my leather collar and belt every day, and I had grown accustomed to the thick leather on my throat. The metal fell differently, putting weight on my collarbone, leaving my throat unrestricted. I wasn't sure I liked it, no matter how pretty it was.

  The slave women in his household began wearing the dresses Jessica had me sew—easy, simple long panels that were rectangles, nearly twice as long as a woman was tall, and as wide as her body was. Tying a knot in the middle of each of two rectangles, then placing one knot on each shoulder, allowed us to wrap two panels in front and two panels in back, held in place by our leather belts. It was a recognizable pattern, making identification of Roy's house slaves easy. I mostly enjoyed the ease of washing. No stupid seams, easy to flip over a clothesline and let it flap in the breeze. Of course, it was also easier to spank us when we wore them.

  ***

  The first time I witnessed Jacqueline being spanked was extremely gratifying.

  Smug little witch. I had learned to tolerate her position as Jessica's favorite, now that she was going to have a child of her own. Jacqueline had something I couldn't offer—experience as a mother.

  Of course, she also had a bad habit of slipping into a daydream when she should have been paying attention. For a long time, the newness of serving Jessica kept her fantasies in check. I daresay the reality of her new life was superior to that of her past. But all blessings become commonplace after a time, and I could see her thoughts begin to wander, her attention waver.

  I never brought it up. So long as Jessica was pleased, who was I to point out her handmaiden's faults?

  But there came a day when Jessica sent Jacqueline out on a series of errands and could not find her when she wanted to.

  "You are sure you haven't seen her?" Her toe was tapping impatiently.

  I was the picture of innocence, even if she didn't believe so. "Not since this morning."

  "Where could she be?"

  I shrugged. "Have you checked the leather workers' building?"

  "Twice." Jessica's brows knit. "You don't think something's happened to her?"

  I attempted to be reassuring. "I'm sure she's completely fine."

  But once the thought was in her head that her beloved might be in harm's way, she couldn't let go of it.

  "I hope so!" Her teeth worried her lip. "Do you think her baby's all right?"

  "Why don't we go check?"

  There was a woman on the far wing of the main house who looked after the babies and small children while their parents were working, if their work was something that couldn't be done with a child in tow. Jacqueline rarely had to leave her child there. Most often, Jessica was delighted with her accompaniment. But since Jessica had given Jacqueline a long list of tasks, some of which required careful conveyance of her orders to various craftspersons, she had suggested Jacqueline leave the baby with Angela.

  Angela was in the middle of changing the clothes on a mewling new one. Jessica immediately leaned over and cooed at the baby, kissing his fuzzy head.

  "You're such a precious one, aren't you?"

  The baby stopped, and grasped at her face, tiny fingers waving. Jessica giggled, and Angela sighed.

  "You can have him for a minute." Of course, Jessica tucked him against her shoulder and murmured to him. She glanced around. "I see Katherine asleep in the corner. Is she all right?"

  Angela laughed. "Sure is. She just wore herself out climbing the toy house Tobin made for us. Up, down, around, over and over."

  "When did Jacqueline drop her off?"

  Angela shrugged. "Not long after breakfast."

  Jessica frowned. For a long moment she continued to hum to the baby on her shoulder, and then she laid him in the bassinet, watching his eyes flutter closed.

  Angela stared. "Good lord. My lady, you need to take over my job."

  Jessica laughed, that tinkling bell sound, and my heart melted anew. "You're splendid with the children. I just picked him up at the right time."

  And we left the nursery.

  We found Jacqueline on the water's edge, sitting among the flowers, staring at the ripples running by.

  "Jacqueline!"

  She jerked around, her face flushing red at the sight of her mistress. She hastily gathered up the measuring ribbon and the basket of things she'd taken on her errands, and stood, tripping over the hem of her dress as she tried to run to us.

  Jessica frowned at the young woman, her chest heaving and her eyes downcast, an untidy heap at her feet.

  "Darling, are you all right?"

  "Yes, my lady, I'm so sorry, I got distracted."

  "You aren't hurt? You aren't ill?"

  She shook her head, staring at the grass, her face hidden. Jessica knelt down heavily, her bulk awkward, and took Jacqueline's chin in her hand. She frowned harder, studying her slave's face.

  "Are you certain? I was so worried!"

  Jacqueline tried to avert her face but Jessica was having none of it. She settled for words.

  "I'm sorry!"

  "What, exactly, are you sorry for?"

  Jacqueline peeked at her. "For not getting finished in a timely fashion?"

  Jessica nodded. "Why did you not?"

  "I—I took a moment to rest by the river. I was so hot, the sweat was pouring down, and I wanted to—to relax a moment."

  Jessica's delicate eyebrow rose a fraction. "A moment?"

  Jacqueline's cheeks practically glowed with embarrassment. "Maybe more."

  Jessica released her chin, folded her arms over her newly ample breasts. "I'm very disappointed."

  Jacqueline cringed. "I'm so sorry, my lady."

  The weight of her concern lent gravity to her words. "I thought something bad had happened."

  Jacqueline bit her lip. "I didn't mean to worry you."

  "You will have to be spanked, you know." Jacqueline winced. "Turn to my left hand. Head on the grass. Ass up."

  I eyed my love, the sparkle of determination in her eyes. This was new. She usually left it to the men to correct her wayward women. Something in Jacqueline's miscalculation had struck a nerve. I scanned the area for a tool, and briefly considered the reeds near the water, but dismissed the idea as too reckless to pursue. I put my hands on my hips, and my fingers brushed my belt. I grinned.

  Jessica was still busy positioning Jacqueline, her mouth set in a prim line. I bit back a laugh at her serious expression. When the young woman was put precisely as I'd been, the night Tobin took a braided cord to my ass, Je
ssica began to spank her. The effort jostled her breasts and turned Jacqueline's ass pink. I watched, a careful eye on every swing. The pregnancy was taking more of Jessica's strength than it seemed to take of most women, and I didn't want her to over exert herself.

  She paused, and I spoke after the last smack had settled.

  "My lady? My belt?" I held it out to her, dropping to my knees.

  She took it out of my hands. "Thank you, Stephanie."

  The prim satisfaction in her voice had me biting hard on my own lip. She doubled it, just as Tobin would, and I felt a stirring of desire. Testing it on her palm, she winced, and I caught her eye. She pressed her lips together and laid a hand on Jacqueline's hips, her voice sharp.

  "You stay still."

  Grass muffled Jacqueline's response.

  "Yes, my lady."

  I watched as Jessica began to spank her pretty slave girl, raising the doubled leather belt with grim determination and slapping it down hard on her exposed buttocks.

  "I care about you." Jacqueline flinched and wiggled, but Jessica didn't stop. "I worry about you. I don't want anything to happen to you. I told you you would be safe on this island with me, and I don't want your foolishness to make me a liar." I tipped my head, enjoying the rapid reddening of Jacqueline's bottom, Jessica's lecture piercing my heart just by proximity. "You can't just wander off with no one knowing where you are or what you're doing."

  Jacqueline was sobbing now, her wiggling causing some strokes to fall too low or too high. I kept a sharp eye on them, ready to intervene if they would endanger Jacqueline. But they didn't. Jessica wasn't swinging nearly as hard as Tobin or Roy would have.

  "Yes, my lady, I'm sorry! I lost track of time, I didn't mean to. It won't happen again!"

  For a few months, maybe.

  Jessica relented. She handed me the belt and then wrapped her arms around her handmaiden, kissing and stroking her.

  "I'm sorry I have to be harsh with you, but you frightened me." She held Jacqueline close to her body. "Please be more attentive."

  Jacqueline nodded, her bottom a hot blush and her cheeks tear stained. "Of course, my lady."

  Her mistress petted her curls, grown out quite a bit from when she'd first come to us, and tucked her head into her shoulder. "Good girl." She struggled to stand, and Jacqueline rushed to help her. "Now." She dusted herself off while I buckled the belt around my waist. "Let's finish your tasks."

  "Together?" Jacqueline swiped at her nose.

  Jessica nodded. "Together."

  I watched them go, and even the sting of being left behind couldn't erase the pleasure that watching the little witch get taken down a peg had given me.

  Chapter Seven

  Our village prospered. As more people learned of our existence, more came to populate it.

  And more came to destroy it.

  At first it was one or two, small bandits out to gather what rich crumbs they could catch unguarded. They were whipped, clapped into chains, and given a choice to stay and labor, or be sold in the village to the west.

  Then it was larger bands, trying our defenses against organized raids. They, too, were caught, whipped, and given a choice.

  Then it was a warlord. One of the fiercest in the area, he was known for mowing down poorly defended villages and leaving the unwanted seeds of most of his men behind.

  Roy had often discussed the possibility of a full out attack by the various warlords, and Gerard had put in place many plans for various contingencies. So when it happened, we were ready.

  ***

  I woke to the touch of a soldier in our bedroom, Tobin already awake and buckling on a few bits of armor. He caught my chin and kissed me lightly.

  "Take care of them."

  I nodded, and the men left. Wrapping my dress around me, I tucked the bottom hem into the belt, leaving my legs even freer to move, and then I gathered the other women in the house.

  Angela, her two children held close on her hips, Jacqueline, her child tucked against her shoulder, Jessica, her tiny newborn wrapped in a soft sling against her breast. We gathered in the room Jessica shared with Roy and Jacqueline, the children rocked and shushed until they calmed back into sleep. I held one of Angela's, a boy called Rafael, staring at the oddity that was a small human.

  It had been an event when Jessica had hers—Jillian, she was called. A day and night and day again she labored, all while I went out of my mind with worry, with the frantic need to do something to ease her suffering. Tobin was even less help than I was, and Roy was just as frantic. Only Patsy, the old crone, and Jacqueline, seemed to have any idea what they were doing. So Roy and I had hovered, trying to stay out from underfoot, racing to bring the slightest thing they asked for. Cloth, water, food, oil, whatever was needed, we provided. In the end, her angelic smile as she kissed the tiny wet bundle and laid her against her breast made up for everything.

  I handed the boy back to his mother and slipped downstairs to the door, welcoming in the women from the surrounding buildings. Patsy, Hanna, Nicole, Bella, Sarafina, more who were newer, and a few slaves I did not know well. There were children of all ages. Once in Jessica's room, there was barely space to move around. Most of the women petted the children, sang soft lullabies to ease them back to sleep. We lit only one lantern to see by.

  One of the slaves knelt near my feet. She annoyed me, so I nudged her every time I went past, trying to get her to find somewhere else to be, but it didn't work.

  Hanna watched out the windows, relaying quiet reports on the men's movements. "They've got the boats drawn in. I can only see the one outpost, but the men are on the towers of the stockade."

  As Roy's authority had spread, he'd ousted the people in the transient camp who couldn't make a decision. They could have come to him and pledged their loyalty, and some did, earning a more solid building and a share of food by the contribution of their sweat. But those who didn't were expelled from the area, offered guides to town, and not permitted to enter our territory again. The men built stockades and moats, directing the river in streams around Roy's shore territories.

  "There they are!"

  Hanna's voice was low and frantic. Women crowded the windows. I stayed back, holding tight to the plan, running over the patterns in my head. If our men's designs held true, we would never be involved in the fight. If they didn't, we had options. I checked our stores of fish oil. I hated to waste any, but it took fire well, and was an easy weapon. Better was the rifle in the closet. I opened the box of bullets, counted them again. Just under two dozen. The slave shifted closer, her eyes big, her voice a whisper.

  "What's that?"

  I glanced up at her, a sharp comment on my tongue, until I saw her fear. I softened.

  "These are cartridges. One box costs the same as a big man in the slave market."

  She reached out, and I let her touch one.

  "How do you use it?"

  I pointed to the gun, still propped in the corner. "You put them in there. Like this."

  I took it out of the closet, feeding five of the lead tipped metal tubes into the bottom of the magazine. She watched as I shouldered it, pointing it at the door away from everyone in the room, squinting down the barrel.

  "You point it at what you want to kill. And you squeeze the trigger."

  She sucked in her breath. "Will we need it?"

  I shook my head. "I don't know. The men have some they've traded for, and some have family heirlooms that still function. We shouldn't need this one. Not if everything goes as expected."

  Still, I stood and took the rifle to Bella. She ran her hands over it expertly, checking the magazine and the sights.

  "Thank you, Stephanie."

  She stayed by the window, her brown eyes on the flickering fires on shore. Some of the women were on the far side of the room, watching in case there was an attack from the other side of the river, but it was quiet. Patsy stood close by Bella, her paleness a contrast with Bella's dark skin in the faint moonlight.

&nb
sp; For a long time there was nothing to do. Mothers sang to the children, some women watched the fight from the safety of our room, and others tried to sleep. I paced, restless and jittery. The woman wearing the white dress and the padlocked chain followed me. Finally I rounded on her, irritation rising to my lips. She instantly dropped to her knees.

  "Forgive me. I'm at my wit's end."

  I looked at her bowed head, the neat rows of dark braids and my irritation softened again.

  "Who do you belong to?"

  She shrugged, awkwardly. "No one."

  I frowned at her, trying to place her. Finally I remembered. I'd only seen her with her hair unbound before. She was—oh.

  "You were given to Zephram."

  She nodded, her eyes still on the floor. He'd been an old man when he died. One of the ones from the riverbank, he'd pledged loyalty to Roy. She'd been part of a team of bandits, and when she knelt for her collar Zephram had claimed her. He'd died a fortnight ago—it was expected; he was old—after she'd been with him for some months.

  "So no one has claimed you since?"

  She shook her head. "Gerard told me to take some time to mourn, if I liked. And then he would offer me again."

  I nodded, watching her. "Have you mourned?"

  She looked up, her eyes damp. "I will continue to do so. He was the first one who truly cared for me in my life."

  I ran my thumb over the edge of her jaw. "You've been staying in his house?"

  "Yes."

  "Are you ready to serve another?"

  She took a hesitant breath. "I think so. I want to, to make him proud."

  I caressed her hair briefly. "We'll find you a good master."

  She nodded again, her rigid muscles relaxing.

  Hanna interrupted our conversation. "They've broken through the stockade!"

  I swung towards her, my eyes finding Bella as she leaned against the window frame, bracing herself, aiming towards the warlord's men. I pushed past the others, stationing myself by her side, the box of ammunition in my hands.

  Crack. The rifle shot echoed in the room, and both women and children screamed, startled and afraid. Jessica started singing. As always, she was in the center of the room, her own babe in her arms and others surrounding her. They calmed, joining and listening. Crack. Another shot, and this time there were cries of startlement but no screams. Jessica continued to sing, and others made soothing sounds. I watched Bella's cool face as she calmly aimed again, tracking a man across the river, and fired. Crack. If there was fear, or uncertainty, she never showed it. I wanted to look, but I didn't dare get in her way. Crack. My ears hurt. I didn't know how she could stand it. I readied the box of cartridges, five more lined up in my hand for when she would reach for them.