Rising Dark (The Darkling Trilogy, Book 2)

by A. D. Koboah

  “You a preacher man?” the slave asked, still staring at me with avid fear.

  “Yes, yes I am.”

  My discomfort turned to irritation when she grasped Julia by the arm in a grip I could see was quite painful.

  “What are you doing? Unhand her,” I said.

  She did not appear to have heard me, but instead spoke again, keeping her voice to a whisper although the urgency was still there.

  “You has to go.” She glanced furtively around her and then back at me. “You has to leave and get back on the ship—any ship—and leave ‘fore sundown.”

  Julia grasped both of the girl’s hands in her own, her brow furrowed as she gazed earnestly at her. “What do you mean? Why should we leave?”

  The girl’s fear seemed to have overcome her and she was speechless for a few moments, still looking around us as if afraid to name whatever she was warning us of.

  “She wants him. That be why she has massa bring you here. You has to leave ‘fore—”

  “Minny!”

  Kato was standing a few feet away from us, his expression aghast as he stared at Minny. Although he had spoken softly, I saw quiet anger mingled with fear in his piercing green eyes. The tension hung heavily in the humid air as he closed the space between him and Minny and seized her by the arm. When he met my gaze, the arrogance I had first seen had fled and in its place was a disquieting unease.

  He reached for the small bag Julia was carrying. “We should leave now if we’s to get back in time for dinner.”

  Julia nodded, glancing surreptitiously at Minny. But the slave girl’s gaze was fixed on the ground as Kato led us to the carriage, although I saw that her gaze kept returning to my white necktie, that unmistakable dread alight in her dark eyes.

  I expected that Minny would sit with us in the carriage, but she joined Kato up front where I heard his furious whispers before the sound was snatched away by the pounding of horses’ hooves as the carriage moved away. Julia soon fell asleep, leaving me alone with my thoughts as the carriage rode swiftly through the countryside.

  I had found the exchange with the slave girl odd, but I chose not to dwell on it as she was a Negro, after all. And from what I had heard of them, they were childlike creatures that were prone to wild flights of fancy and superstitions. I was beginning a new chapter of my life, one that promised untold joy now I had cast away the cares of my old life. I had no intention of letting the remarks of a mere slave ruin that for me.

  We finally arrived at the Foster plantation. It was vast, a miniature town with woodlands and a sprawling field abundant with cotton. Instead of relief and joy at the sight of my new home, disquiet settled within me. Slaves moved through the cotton field quickly and silently, intent upon their work with a feverish single-mindedness that astounded me. We passed plenty of slaves as we rode through the vast plantation, all of them well-dressed and hurrying about their business. There were perhaps hundreds of slaves on this plantation, and although many we passed regarded the carriage with interest, their eyes slid away from mine whenever my gaze met theirs. But I felt the heat of that gaze return to linger as soon as we had passed. Their fear was almost palpable, and it burned as if I could feel their stares boring through the back of the carriage into me.

  Kato brought us up to a colossal white mansion that intruded upon its vivid green surroundings like an unwanted guest. Modelled after Greek architecture with white columns at the front of the building, it sat smug and superior in the afternoon sun. He hopped down from the carriage and opened the door for us, helping Julia alight. The arrogant curve around his mouth deepened when he saw us gaping at the formidable mansion before us.

  He bowed in that mocking way of his before he took hold of Minny, who seemed to have grown smaller now we were at the plantation, and moved away. I saw Kato's lips moving, his brow creased, as he led her away, leaving us to our hosts, the Fosters, who had come out to the mansion steps when the carriage pulled up.

  A short, dark-haired, rotund man with a heavy moustache came forward.

  “Reverend Wentworth. Mrs Wentworth. I am Jothan Foster. Welcome, welcome to my home.” His smile was so wide and fixed that it appeared contrived, as did his oily, overly gracious tone. “This is my wife, Grace, and my only son, Alden.”

  They were all plump and exceptionally well-dressed in expensive silks, and draped in jewels. They reminded me of overfed, pampered hens waddling out to greet us in the midday sun. Alden Foster came forward and shook my hand before he bowed to Julia. He looked to be in his early twenties and had a soft, fleshy face with a small upturned nose and large, limpid blue eyes. But his gaze was cold behind his smile and, like his father, there was no warmth in his tone. Mrs Foster was in her early forties with small brown eyes and a thin, pinched mouth. She merely nodded in our direction, lazily fanning herself as she looked off into the distance as if bored with the whole affair.

  “Come inside. Dinner will be ready in an hour. Phillis,” he said, referring to a silent, mahogany-skinned Negro female, “will take you to your rooms and bring up some refreshments for you.”

  We moved into the inside of the mansion, which was as magnificent as its exterior with high ceilings, plush rugs, and every conceivable symbol of wealth from paintings by esteemed artists to priceless ornaments. We followed Phillis to our room in silence, awed by the extraordinary wealth all around us. Two other male slaves arrived with our luggage moments later, seemingly eager to deposit the luggage and be away from us as fast as their feet could carry them.

  “I saw a beautiful rose garden as we came up to the mansion,” Julia said to the morose Phillis. “Could you take me to it?”

  “Yes, miss,” she replied.

  Julia kissed me on the cheek and they left the room.

  Alone, the cloying unease I had felt since arriving at the plantation deepened, much like the suffocating summer heat which pressed upon me like an invisible menace. I went to the window and looked outside, watching slaves moving to and fro with single-minded purpose and realised exactly what was missing on this plantation: the sound of laughter and idle chatter that was characteristic of places as heavily populated as this. I heard only silence and a soullessness that made me feel as if I had walked into a ghost town.

  I moved to the bed and lay down.

  The slave girl’s words, or, more precisely, the fear she had displayed rose to the fore of my mind. I pushed it aside and closed my eyes, meaning to give myself a few moments to resettle my thoughts. I was soon fast asleep.

  I was startled out of sleep by an anguished cry, like that of a wounded bird. I sat up with a jolt, dazed and unsure if what I had heard was rooted in reality or the remnant of some dream. Then I heard it again.

  “Avery!”

  Fear thrilled through me when I recognised the voice. I leapt to my feet and ran to the door. I met Julia in the foyer. If what I had heard in her voice had shaken me, it was nothing compared to the state she was in. She was a ghostly white, tears were streaming down her face and she was trembling. One of the male slaves was half-carrying her and she clung to Phillis's hand.

  “Avery!”

  She tore loose from them when she saw me and ran into my arms. She was hyperventilating, caught in a wild panic as she fought to speak.

  “You have got to make them stop!” she gasped.

  “Stop what? What happened?”

  “The...the screaming and...and...they... The blood...so much blood...”

  Blood?

  It felt as if all the heat had been sucked out of the mansion, leaving me shivering. Julia’s voice trailed away and she no longer focused on me but on whatever had scared her so. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she lost consciousness. For a few moments I stood holding a dead weight in my arms, and the situation was so peculiar I almost felt for her pulse to see if she was still alive. Instead, I faced the two Negroes.

  “What happened? What frightened her so?” My voice rose with each word.

  I was left with a wall of
silence, their gazes meeting the floor.

  “Tell me!”

  The female at last met my gaze. She opened her mouth as if to speak but then closed it again. I noticed then that she was clasping her hands together with such force it seemed she might break her own fingers. Then she pulled her gaze away from mine and toward the window, focusing on a large wooden structure farther down the path. Her gaze was steady when it met mine again, but I understood her unspoken message. I placed Julia in the arms of the male slave, directing my words to the female.

  “Take care of her.”

  I was out of the door and walking toward the structure, a barn by the looks of it, panic rising with each step. As I got closer, I heard a noise coming from the barn, a steady, rhythmic snapping noise, like the sound of leather against leather. For some reason it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and the sound seemed to snap at my heels as I moved toward the barn. The Negroes I passed looked surprised when they saw where I was headed, but no one made an attempt to stop me as I entered.

  The first thing that assaulted my senses was the heat. Then the stench of rotting flesh mingled with fresh blood filled my nostrils. It reminded me of a hunting trip I had been forced to go on with my father. Many years had passed since that trip and I could still remember with painful clarity the frozen eyes of the dead deer along with the blood—so much blood. For a moment I couldn’t move, I was so caught in the memory and the terror. And then my mind was able to make sense of what I saw and it was far worse than anything I had seen on those hunting trips.

  A woman was hung naked by her arms from one of the beams. Her dark skin glistened with sweat in the sunlight that cut across the barn diagonally from the slats in the roof. She appeared to be only half-conscious and her eyes had rolled so far back in her head that only the whites were visible. The most shocking sight of all was the skin on her back, which had deep, red lacerations. So deep, in fact, that ribbons of flesh had been stripped from her back, leaving open wounds from which blood flowed freely, spilling down her back and legs to form a crimson pool on the ground. Even as I focused on the ripped, bloodied flesh, the whip came down on her back again, on flesh that was already gaping open, and I felt my stomach turn at the perceived pain. But from the victim there was only a low moan.

  “Stop,” I heard myself mumble.

  The whip came down again.

  “Stop!”

  The man, a ruddy-skinned white male I hadn’t seen until then, had not heard me enter. He whirled around in surprise, his hand halting in mid-air as he looked past me to the door. I tore my gaze away from the slave girl and looked toward the door in time to see Alden Foster direct a short nod to the man. Alden’s expression was grim, but when he turned to me, he had a hard tight smile on his lips as he took me by the arm.

  “Reverend, why don’t we step outside?”

  With one last glance at the gruesome sight of the young woman, I let him lead me outside.

  “Why was she being beaten?” I was able to say as he led me away from the barn.

  Although out in the fresh air, I felt no better, and the awful smell of rotting meat hung in my nostrils, making me feel queasy. Despite the heat, which was like rolling waves of hot air, I felt cold and clammy, especially since I had seen the face of the girl being beaten. It was Minny, the one who told us to leave before sundown.

  “Discipline,” he answered. “I am sorry your wife had to witness it. It is a very unpleasant thing for a lady to see.”

  “But she is only a child,” I said. “What could a child possibly have done to warrant such punishment?”

  “Niggers don’t feel what we feel—”

  He was interrupted by that sound again, the sound of what I had thought was leather against leather, but now knew was a whip lashing torn, bloodied flesh.

  I turned toward the barn, but Alden spoke before I did.

  “Don’t worry, Reverend. I will let him know she has had enough punishment for today.”

  “I want your assurance that nothing like that will ever be done to her again.”

  “Of course,” he replied in the same oily tone. “You go on back to the house now, Reverend.”

  I watched him walk away and only moved to go back to the mansion when he looked back at me. In the foyer of the mansion, I watched from the window as two male Negroes carried the girl, now wrapped in a blanket, out of the barn. They were followed by Alden and the man I had seen carry out the whipping. Alden’s face was dark with anger as he addressed the two Negroes who were carrying the girl. He turned toward the mansion, and when he saw me standing at the window, he murmured something to the other white male before he directed another tight smile in my direction.

  “She be in your room and awake now, suh.”

  I tore my gaze away from the window to see the male slave who had half-carried Julia into the house earlier on. After what I had witnessed, I found it hard to look at him and instead mumbled a thank you before I went upstairs.

  Julia was pacing back and forth when I entered the room. Phillis was still with her, watching Julia with intense pity in her gaze, something quite surprising considering the life she must have led as a slave. She quickly hid it, assuming the blank mask all the slaves seemed to wear around us. She got to her feet.

  “I’s gonna leave you now,” she said and moved toward the door.

  “Thank you for staying with me,” Julia gushed.

  Phillis managed a small smile but averted her gaze. Then she glanced up at Julia as if she meant to speak, but then slid past her and to the door where I stood. She nodded when I thanked her and left the room.

  “Are you feeling better now, my dear?” I asked once I closed the door behind me.

  “Me? There is nothing wrong with me, Avery. But that poor child.”

  “It...it has stopped now. I saw them carry her away.”

  “But did you see what they were doing to her? It is wrong. In fact it was...it...it is torture.”

  “It is just their way of disciplining. And it has stopped now,” I repeated.

  “It is merely discipline—is that what you are saying to me, Avery? Would you discipline Casper and Farrow in that manner?” she asked, referring to my dogs.

  “Good God, no,” I said, aghast she would even suggest such a thing to me.

  Then the full horror of my words struck me.

  Silence descended on the room as we stared at each other whilst the colour rose to my cheeks. Julia’s expression remained angry and determined.

  “No, Julia. I would never do that to an animal, much less a man or woman, even if they are merely slaves. You know that, don’t you?” Anxiety marked my words.

  She closed the space between us and placed her hands on the sides of my head.

  “Of course I know you would never harm a living being, Avery. But how can we stand by and let them do this? And you know why they were torturing her, don’t you?”

  I pulled her hands away and moved to stand at the window. When I saw the barn in the distance, I quickly moved to the fireplace and kept my back to her. But I couldn’t escape her words.

  “They did that to her because she tried to warn us,” she continued. “She tried to warn you. But there is one thing I do not understand, Avery. What could she have meant? ‘She wants you.’ Who could she be? Mrs Foster?”

  “Somehow I doubt Mrs Foster has any interest in me,” I said, facing her.

  A small smile tugged at her lips. “That is true. But Minny was so frightened, Avery. She clung to my arm as if our very lives depended on what she was trying to tell me. She knew what would happen to her but she warned you anyway. I do not think we are safe here with the Fosters.”

  It was a long moment before I answered.

  “I know.”

  “Then let us leave now.”

  “No, Julia. I accept that, for whatever reason, our hosts cannot be trusted. But I do feel we are letting ourselves become clouded by the darky’s melodrama. You have to remember they are not quite like us in
mind. They are prone to superstitions and are extremely excitable. We will heed her warning, but there is no rush. We can leave tomorrow morning.”

  “But I know they are planning on doing something to us,” Julia continued. “The whole place speaks of evil. The slaves here are well-dressed and fed compared to some of the others we came across. But it is as if the devil is riding their backs. I see it in their eyes. Some nameless fear dogs their every footstep.”

  “I am a man of God, Julia,” I said. “No harm can come to us so long as we trust in Him.”

  “But Avery—”

  I moved to her and grasped her hands. “We have nothing to fear if we believe in Him, Julia. Do you believe that?”

  After a few moments, a resigned smile touched her lips. “Of course, Avery. I believe in you. We will leave tomorrow after we see the chapel.”

  “Perhaps we can persuade them to sell Minny to us and take her with us wherever we go. You do need a new maid, after all. Would you like that?”

  Although the thought of owning a slave wasn’t particularly palatable to me, I knew it was just the thing to make Julia beam and take her mind away from the awful spectacle we had witnessed.

  “Would I like that? Oh, Avery, that would be simply marvellous. You are such a good man.”

  She folded herself into my arms.

  I sighed and pulled her closer to me, already feeling much better at the prospect of leaving this plantation, and the unnatural silence that pervaded it, behind.

  Chapter 3

  It was with some trepidation that I followed Kato into the woods at dusk in order to view the chapel. Julia, on the other hand, seemed to have forgotten about her misgivings and was chattering away about how much she was looking forward to telling Minny the good news, assuming she would want to come with us, that is.

  As if she has a choice, I thought wryly, remembering all too well how the Fosters had appeared to jump at the idea when we suggested it at dinner. They refused to accept any kind of payment in return for the slave and told us we could tell her the news when we returned from the chapel. I also remembered the derisive smile Alden quickly hid behind a napkin when the matter was agreed upon.