“They use these to move about in secret,” Farnsworth explained as the driver whipped and called to the horses up front. “Break the bales and fill the cart with hay, and no one’s the wiser.”
“Why hide?” Tabitha asked. “If this place is at peace, shouldn’t it be safe?” She shifted the large satchel she’d carried along off her lap. Kane had been ready to leave their Grimoires on the ship out of habit, but she’d insisted on taking them.
Kane knew better than to argue.
“Nowhere is safe, Miss Drake,” Farnsworth said. “Though Loganville isn’t occupied, the people still see their fair share of Northern visitors. Better to be safe than sorry.”
The cart moved down the dirt road towards the plantation, the sun high in the sky as the heat beat down against them. Kane was sweating by the time the horses came to a halt in front of the large plantation house. He stood in the cart and looked around at the people working the fields. They chattered, laughed and carried on as they toiled away, picking cotton and tending to livestock. Children ran about, playing as they went. A group of them had found an old wagon wheel and were rolling it around and laughing when it would fall over. A dog ran with them, barking and wagging his tail as they cheered.
“This place,” Tabitha said, standing up with him. “It’s not like Harbor.”
A man’s voice called from the front porch.
“That’s because these people aren’t slaves.”
Kane looked up at the porch and saw a man about his age, tall with dark skin as if he’d spent his fair share of time in the sun along with the rest of his fellow former slaves. He wore a button-up shirt with the top three buttons open and the sleeves rolled up, and brown denim pants that were worn at the knees and dirty, his boots dusty and worn dull. He used a rag to wipe the sweat from his brow and hands, stepped off the porch toward the wagon. Kane climbed down, helped Tabitha out, then turned as the man approached with an offered hand. Kane took it, and the man shook vigorously.
“Jimmy Catch,” he said. “Pardon the way I look. Been helping out in the field today. We’re a man down. Sprained ankle.”
“Kane Shepherd,” said Kane. “This is Tabitha Drake.”
Catch took Tabitha’s hand and kissed her knuckles, smiling roguishly as he nodded to her.
“Enchanted.”
Tabitha blushed as Farnsworth came forward.
“Captain Scott Farnsworth. The boy following me is my brother of the air, First Mate Benjamin Wilson.”
Wilson moved up beside Farnsworth, gave a salute. Catch nodded to him, shook hands with Farnsworth and Wilson both, then stepped back and addressed the four of them.
“Welcome to the Haven. I run things here, but we all own it. Everyone pitches in, including me.” He gestured to the house. “Please, come inside. I’m sure you’re thirsty from all this heat.”
“Gods, yes,” Tabitha said.
Kane bristled. Not that Catch seemed insincere, but Kane had been through enough the past few weeks to keep him from instantly trusting someone, especially in their own home.
Tabitha put her arm around his and squeezed.
“Quit it,” she said.
“Am I that transparent?”
Tabitha snorted as she pulled Kane into step behind Farnsworth and Wilson.
“You wear your thoughts on your face like a bad mask.”
Kane rolled his eyes.
“See,” Tabitha said. “I know that one! You do that one a lot!”
They followed Catch into the house. The plantation home was every bit as large as Douglas’s had been, but not nearly as lavish. Haven was clean, but practical. People bustled around, busy with their chores as Catch led the group past the study and to the dining room. The long table was laden with dried fruits and meats, breads, and a large glass jug of water with chunks of ice. A few of the laborers stood at the table grazing as they socialized among themselves. Catch turned to Kane.
“Break time. They come in, cool off, and grab a bite to eat before heading back out.”
“You give your slaves breaks?” Kane nodded, smiling. “Wow. Different world from where we just came from.”
Catch laughed.
“I can imagine. As I mentioned before, they aren’t slaves. No one here is forced to be here. But, everyone who lives here works. It’s part of the arrangement. Instead of money, I offer food and shelter in return for labor in the fields. Even I follow my own rule. I can’t very well ask others to do what I’m not willing to do myself. If you wish to leave, safe travels. If you wish to stay, you pull your fair weight.” He motioned to the table. “You all look as if you could use a meal and drink. Please. We’ll talk while you eat.”
The four of them went to the table. Kane picked up a plate, putting a few pieces of dried fruit on it as Catch spoke to Farnsworth.
“I received word about Charleston yesterday. So it’s true? The city was destroyed?”
“Aye, that it was,” Farnsworth said as he put a piece of bread on his plate and turned, looking down at Catch. “The Revolution is no more. General Anderson is dead. Charleston is nothing but ash now. Gone.”
Catch blew a low whistle as he shook his head.
“That’s not good news. Any chance of regrouping?”
Farnsworth looked down at his plate, breathed a sigh.
“There aren’t enough left to fight. We loaded as many as we could into the airship we flew in on, but the rest died in Charleston. Men. Women. Children. All gone.”
Catch shook his head as he stepped closer to Farnsworth. Kane knew that look.
“You’re asking my people to fight? To stand up against the Northern Oligarchs?” Catch shook his head. “We’ve got a good thing here, Captain.”
Kane sat his plate down, cleared his throat.
“We’re not asking that at all.”
Catch and Farnsworth both turned to him. Kane saw Farnsworth’s jaw working, moving under his cheek.
“What, then?” asked Catch.
“We want to leave the refugees here and fly back to New Chicago,” Kane said, glancing at Wilson. The kid had stopped in the middle of chewing, his eyes wide as he looked back and forth between Kane and Farnsworth.
Kane kept going.
“The Revolution is finished. It’s over. Anyone who survived Charleston got a front row seat for the kind if firepower the Oligarchs have at their disposal.”
“I’m guessing you haven’t heard the news, either,” Catch said. “The last of the Populist Party in the Northern Union Government are gone. Two went missing. The rest are all dead. All of them killed in their own homes.”
Tabitha’s eyes widened as she put her plate down and covered her mouth.
“Oh no,” she breathed.
Kane knew what that meant: The Oligarchs were now completely unopposed. Those positions would be replaced by CEOs and corporate Yes-men.
Catch nodded.
“It happened right after Thomas Frostmeyer became President. No election announced, no propaganda on it. We all just woke up one day, and the bastard was running the North.” He sighed again. “Well, the country. Can’t really say the Confederacy is all that independent anymore, now can we?”
They fell to silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Kane wondered if Anderson had thought about what success meant for the Revolution. Would they have made the Northern Oligarchs release the South back to their own devices? Rebuilt the Southern government?
Would they have made the wealthy suffer like the poor had?
Anderson had been full of fire. Smart and organized. But she’d never really been clear on an endgame.
Wilson’s voice broke the silence.
“What if the South cut the North off?”
Everyone looked at him. The kid stood there with a plate in his hand piled high with food, his mouth still working on a piece of dried meat.
“I’m not sure I understand your reasoning there, boy,” Catch said.
Kane was about to agree with Catch when something clicked in h
is mind. He paused, let the thought roll around in his head, gain momentum.
The Northern Oligarchs relied heavily on the agriculture from the South. Food, supplies, even materials for their clothing came from the plantations peppered around the Confederacy. They controlled the plantations, either financially or through fear. It was simple: produce or suffer. How many plantation heads had no love for the Union? Wanted to see them fall? Wanted their freedom and peace?
How many were like Jimmy Catch?
“I think I get it,” Kane said. Everyone looked at him expectantly. Kane looked at Wilson, who beamed like a small boy caught doing something good. “It’s a military strategy.” He turned to Farnsworth. “Think about it: The enemy needs resources to continue to fight. Or even survive. If you go in and cut those resources, make things harder to get, then you make it harder for them to fight. The way you do that, in this case, is rally the people the enemy oppresses. Get them to fight back. Increase your manpower.”
“Or you poke the black bear into coming after you with everything he’s got so you can be an example,” Catch said. “We have rifles for hunting, and a couple of cannons that ain’t been fired since the Civil War.” He looked at Kane, his eyes hard. “I don’t know about you, but my black ass isn’t about to ask a group of people, who trust me to look out for them, to commit suicide in the name of some political agenda.”
“The North controls you,” Kane said, facing Catch fully, his jaw set. “Whether you want to believe it or not, no matter how you run your show here, they call the shots. You produce for them, or they make you suffer. If the Plantations united, the Oligarchs would have a mess on their hands. It would destabilize their hold on things.”
“This is assuming that the Southern Confederate Government isn’t still in the pockets of the Oligarchs, Mr. Shepherd,” Farnsworth said. “You forget that they were the ones who asked for help in driving the Slave Rebellion back.”
“They didn’t ask for the price they paid,” Catch said. “The Confederate Government is a cover. The Northern Oligarchs ousted them years back. Burned it all to the ground.”
“There are plenty of people up North who would love to see the Oligarchy fall,” Kane said. “See the government returned to the People. Right now, the North is set up to rule everything with no input or opposition from the Confederacy.” Kane shook his head. “The representatives they put in place for the South are a joke. They’re not even from here. And if the Populists are really gone, then it’s a wash. We’re at their mercy. Unless we do something about it. This is still, technically, a separate country. It’s just been occupied by the Northern Union.”
Catch sat his plate down on the table and took a deep breath. Kane could tell he was regaining some composure. He couldn’t blame the man for being caught off guard by talk of retaliation against the North.
“I appreciate what you’re wanting to do,” Catch said. “I don’t like them any more than you do. But a direct confrontation puts my people at risk. Your people are welcome here as long as they’re willing to work and do their part. I extend you the same invitation. But I will not do anything that puts the Haven at risk.”
A knock at the door cut Kane off as he was about to argue. A woman entered, nodded to all of them before she spoke to Catch.
“Mista’ Jimmy,” she said, giving a small curtsy.
“Betsy,” Catch said, politely. “Yes, ma’am? What can I do for you?”
“You need come look.”
* * *
The cows in the pasture grazed lazily, moving about as they kept some distance from the group of people gathered around the carcass laying in the grass. Kane knelt down over it, he flies swarming the dead cow’s carcass loud, stubbornly coming back to their meal when they were swatted away.
The animal’s throat had been cut. The death had been slow, painful. Kane looked around the body, trying to find any other wounds.
“What the hell?” Catch rubbed his brow with a rag, wiping away the sweat. He turned to Betsy. “Did you see anything?”
“Nossir,” she said, shaking her head. “’Dem cows were herded over in the shade up yonda. Somethin’ spooked ‘em, and they scattered. ‘Dis one wandered out ova here and drop dead.”
Kane looked in the direction Betsy had pointed as Tabitha stepped up beside him.
“It’s them,” Catch said, grunting. “Bastards.”
“Who?” asked Kane.
“The Union Confederates. They come through every now and then and do shit like this. Remind us of who we work for.” He shook his head. “They’ve never liked how I run my show here, but they like the goods I send up North.”
“They do this to threaten you?” Tabitha asked.
Catch shrugged.
“More to remind the black man running a plantation for the North that he works for people more powerful than him.”
Kane looked at him.
“Think they know we’re here?”
Catch shrugged again.
“Hard to say. They might. Might also just be a warning about what could happen if I get caught harboring you.”
Kane looked back down at the cow. He knew exactly what this was. The airship that had escaped Charleston was probably the hot topic for the Union-controlled Confederates and the Northern Union alike. They’d seen them land, seen Jimmy Catch’s people bring them to the Haven.
It was a warning.
A voice called out from across the field. Kane saw a boy of about twelve running toward them, waving his arms.
“Massa Catch! Massa Catch! They comin’! Got a transport on the way!”
Kane looked at Tabitha.
“I have an idea.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Farnsworth had taken Kane’s idea well.
“You’re insane!”
Kane raised an eyebrow at him.
“It’s the best way, and you know it.” He looked at Tabitha, then back at the captain. “You and the rest can meet us in Hidden Valley once we’re clear.”
The four of them were walking behind Jimmy Catch, heading back toward the house. Jimmy led the way, taking Kane and Tabitha to a spot where they’d be close enough to get aboard the ship without being noticed. Farnsworth and Wilson were to wait for the transport to leave, then head for New Chicago on the other airship.
Both weren’t as thrilled with the idea as Kane would’ve liked for them to be.
“The odds are heavily against you, sir,” Wilson argued.
“I have to agree with the boy,” Catch said from up front. “You’re fugitives, now. Chances are this transport isn’t gonna be a normal one.”
“We need a ride back to New Chicago that isn’t noticeable,” Kane said. “Flying in on the airship that blew past the Special Forces is a far worse idea. We might as well paint a bullseye on the side of it and offer cash for shooting her down.”
Catch stopped short and spun on his heel. He was in Kane’s face, his eyes hard and his jaw set as he stared into Kane’s eyes.
“We’re at peace here,” he said, his voice low and hard. “You people brought trouble. I may have been an ally to the Revolution, but the Revolution is over. Now I’m just a man trying to help his people survive. If any of them are harmed because of you, I’ll feed you to the Special Forces, myself.”
Kane couldn’t be angry. He couldn’t blame Catch.
“Just stick to the plan,” he said. “Deny everything.”
Catch turned away and continued toward the airfield.
“The grain silos up ahead are in view of the transport when she’s landed,” he called over his shoulder.
Kane turned to the others.
“Farnsworth, you and Wilson head out. We’ll meet in Hidden Valley in New Chicago.”
“The docks on the Chicago River,” Wilson said. “They won’t think to look there. They’re looking for airships.”
“Sounds good. Now go.”
Farnsworth stepped forward, offering his hand. Kane took it, shaking it as he looked up at the la
rge man.
“You’re a fine man, Kane Shepherd,” Farnsworth said. He looked at Tabitha. “Keep him in line, Lass. He’s a loose cannon, this one.”
Tabitha smiled and shrugged.
“I’ll do what I can. He’s kind of crazy.”
Kane looked at her with a raised eyebrow. Farnsworth laughed loudly, letting go of Kane’s hand and turning away.
“Come, Wilson! Let’s make ready!”
“Sir,” Wilson answered, falling into step behind the captain.
Kane turned back to Tabitha, motioned at the two silos in the distance. They were impressive; tall steel structures rounded at the top and haloed with a walkway that gave access to a door. Whoever had owned the plantation before Jimmy Catch had taken over had likely been an Oligarch, or wealthy enough to appeal to the Southern Oligarchs at least.
The telltale sound of turbines filled the area, the ground beginning to thrum under their feet. The transport.
“Okay, Tabitha,” Kane said. “You’re on.”
Tabitha pulled her amulet out of her pocket and drew her rune. She looped her arm around Kane’s as she put the trinket back into her pocket.
“Draugalega Ferðast!”
Kane felt the familiar cold, the force of chilled wind as it carried them to the silo in a blink. They landed solidly on the walkway next to the door at the top. Kane let go of Tabitha and looked around. They were alone.
“Kane,” Tabitha said. “Look!”
Kane looked in the direction she’d pointed as the sound of turbines grew loud in the air. The transport was large, the same model as the Jezebel had been before Jones and Farnsworth had remodeled her as a battle ship. It was a newer vessel, using the lighter-than-air design. Kane tried the silo door, found it unlocked. He opened it and pulled Tabitha inside with him as the ship moved in, hovering over the area. He closed the door, leaving it cracked enough to look closed from a distance, but allowed him to see out as the airship loomed over them.
Gaslit Armageddon (Clockworks of War Book 2) Page 28