Flight of Fancy: Cora's Daughters (8 page)

He reached up once more, his head felt like it was getting tight and no wonder, stretching his skin was a good sized egg – he started laughing at himself. “Can’t believe I just stood there watchin’ it come? Thought she was gone miss.” Exhaling he figured he would have to eat on the go, he didn’t want that much distance between them.  

Shaking his head, he retrieved the saddle and blankets she’d left behind, thinking,
‘I’m gonna have to take good care of this woman Lord, she just left her saddle.’

Once more – he was saddled up, her saddle behind him - riding and eating at the same time. Sure enough, she’d put some distance between them – but he knew how to find her, he would always know how to pick up her trail.

Another day had gone, he hadn’t seen her, night had fallen, he wanted to settle down for the evening but something in his stomach wouldn’t let him stop until he had her in his sights once more. The problem was, it was dark – it was not easy to track in the dark – in fact, it was close to impossible. Even so, he would not stop until he saw her once more, safe and sound. He wasn’t sure how long into the night he’d been looking for signs of her, but the moon was high in the star filled sky – not quite a full moon, but it was close enough.

Just as he was about to give in and force himself to stop, he heard a sound that sent pure terror racing through his system.

Dogs… the baying of the hounds. The sound of nightmares for any slave running. Because of what Broc knew, it almost bent him over from fear. He had to find her – he had to find her
now
.

Dismounting from Nik-Nik – he took off in a sprint in direction of the horrendous sound - his imagination going crazy with images of what could be happening. They were deep in Virginia, the south – and someone from somewhere was out with their dogs – chasing her down? Chasing other runaway slaves down? He couldn’t know, had no way of being sure if she was in the midst of it or not. One thing he did know, he hadn’t been far behind her, and the sounds of the dogs were heading in her direction. Broc increased his speed – and sure enough, up ahead he could see the illumination from torches.

He could finally hear the voices of men, rousing their dogs, and rushing to flush out their prey.

“They won’t get far – one heavy with a mutt and carryin’ along a youngin’! Dogs a get’em!” He heard and then, “Should we turn’em loose?” Someone called out.

“Yeah… turn’em loose, once they start screamin’ – we know right where to get’em!”

Not thinking, but reacting from pure adrenaline, Broc shouted out, “Keep them dogs on their leads! YOU HEAR – KEEP THEM DOGS ON TH’LEADS!” He rushed within the midst of the men with his weapon drawn, “Gotta fugitive I’m after – don’t want yer dogs rippin’ him apart!” He immediately explained, stopping in their midst, breathing hard.

There were five men – one – the leader of the pack spoke up first, “Sorry to hear that, we after runaways – the dogs get’em, they get’em! Can’t risk losing runaways – let them getaway, they all start to think they can run off!”

“CALL THEM DOGS BACK!” Broc shouted, taking a deep breath he warned them, “My fugitive dangerous – he’ll kill your dogs!” No sooner had he said the words than they heard the first high pitched yelping.

“What in HELL!?” One of the men along shouted, and then there was another yelping… and then another.

The men started yelling out for their dogs, panicking – trying to call them back.

Broc knew it then, she was out there – killing their dogs, panicking, his mind screaming,
‘No no no no nooo – don’t Asiza… dooon’t!’
and out loud, “I TOLD YOU! DAMMIT I TOLD YOU!!!” He rushed off from them into the woods out of their sight. But he heard what he dreaded most of all.

“Jimmy, go get help, go get more dogs!!”

Jimmy turned and ran off to do what he was told.

The die was cast, Broc knew that he couldn’t let Jimmy get more help – he couldn’t let him bring more dogs, more hunters. With his heart slamming he turned back, running through the trees. So deep a night was it, that following a lone torch was easy. Broc passed it by and then, waited for the young man to run directly towards him, and into his dagger. The blade pierced his diaphragm before he knew what hit him, he felt it coming out and then the cold steel stung as it slit his throat. He dropped to the ground dead.

Broc stomped out his torch – in the distance, he could hear more dogs dying, and now – men were screaming and running for their lives.

“Asiza… Asiza nooo!” He cried out in agony – fully aware of the outcome. Twice now, he had killed for her.

Both were now on a path of no return. Rushing headlong – he had little choice, his life’s course was now cast in iron.

Previously, Asiza had been high in the midst of the trees when she’d been awakened by the rushing and sobbing of runaway slaves. Their panicked voices and cries reaching her ears – before she even heard them, she knew the dogs would soon be upon them.

With arrows, spear and dagger in hand, her whip hanging off her hip, she’d made her descent – once more like a waiting spider – anticipating their arrival.

She landed near the runaways and without hesitation she growled out the warning, “Shet yo’mouth! You makin’ too much noise!” She couldn’t believe it, a young man, a young pregnant girl and a three year old.

“You crazy – they gone catch you! Run! Run an don’t stop – you heah’me… don’t stop.”

And then they heard the dogs – they turned and ran.

Asiza pulled out her whip, and through tight teeth, growled to the forest – “I guess this the night I’mo die – ‘fore I go, I’m takin’ some wit’me. Let’em come Lord, let’em come.”

She ran towards the swamp, jumped in to wet herself down and came out muddy and smelling like the forest. Against a tree, her eyes fully adjusted to the dark, she pulled back her arrow and waited for sight of the first dog leading the pack. Without hesitation and with deadly aim, she let her arrow fly. His yelp pulled the others up short, stunning them. She ran towards them with a second arrow in place, stopping, pulling it taut – it too flew and hit another – its yelping lit the air. Grabbing her whip, she ran towards them, bellowing in a voice meant to strike lifelong terror into them.

Tongues hanging, they panted and backed into each other, afraid of the unknown, a few trying to run back.  It was too late, she picked them off - hitting one with her whip, making it yelp out and roll. She grabbed its tail yanking it to her to stab in the ribs as it tried to turn and bite her.

The others squealed and yelped in a frenzy as she hunted them down, just as they’d been used against her, her people.

She chased them, striking yet another with her whip, it yelped, fell and curled from the excruciating burn – it too was stabbed and killed.

She knew she had to kill them all, there were two left and chasing them led her to the glow of torches.

She reared back with her spear in hand and launched it with a mighty thrust of her arm for it to spin and fly through the air, the point dipped and pierced the chest of a man.

His screams lit up the night.

They had torches, she could see them, but they couldn’t see her. They couldn’t make out who, or what she was. Relishing their fear, she circled wide – they were frightened and clumped together, their backs to each other searching the darkness that surrounded them, calling out to the Lord to save them. Two had rifles, flintlocks. Shaking they tried to load them – before one could even load the ball, an arrow pierced his chest.

She heard a blast from a gun – the flash had come from the forest not far from her and another man in the group fell.

She had three arrows left, that would kill three more of the men, and the other two would have to die by her hand.

They were stupid men.

Not one had enough sense to throw away his torch and hide in the darkness, because they were afraid of the dark and Asiza was determined to give them good reason.

Just as she was about to pull another arrow back, she saw him - the big man from the lake - he sent a small hand axe swirling through the air to catch a man in the back, between the shoulder blades, and just as fast he killed another. She could not risk hitting him with an arrow so rushed into the melee and together, they put the hunting party to rest along with one other of the dogs. The last dog ran yelping into the forest, no doubt – his terror would cause him to run far away – perhaps to go wild and free of men.

They stood in the midst of the dead, torches lying on the ground, bathing them in a dim glow of light.

“Asiza…” Broc panted her name.

“Wha’s wrong wit’you? Why you do this? They fin’ out you do this, they gone hunt you too.” She scolded him.

“Come Asiza… we have to get far from here, now!” He grabbed her arm to lead her. She snatched it away, “Don’ want no man! Ain't you hear nothin' I say?!”

She turned and dashed off into the darkness.

“ASIZA – ASIZAAA!”

Infuriated with her, he dashed off behind her, following her despite her refusal to give into him.

Had all that he’d done so far, not meant anything to her? Could she not see that he was on her side? He’d killed for her and Broc knew that he would do so again. That was the reason he could not leave any alive to report back. Once those men were found, it would be left up to their imaginations as to what happened to them. Because of the arrows, they would blame the Indians. He thanked God that most men thought like him. No way would they believe a lone woman, a slave could have done this. Even if by some chance, her reputation from North Carolina traveled to Virginia – few would believe she had a hand in this.

Chapter Five

She found them, they made sure of that as frightened as they were. She, Asiza had become their savior as it were, and they were now too afraid to take a step without her. She went searching for them, wanting to make sure the small family made it safe and sound to their destination.

Huddled now with them in the darkness of the woods, they whispered back and forth, in shaky tones and trembling voices. The young man was trying to tell her about the place where runaways could go. It was their only chance if they were going to make it out of the south to be free. “Shhh, I get you there, I got a horse – we’ah get there, I promise we’ah get there.” Asiza swore to them.

“You save us! We be dead, our baby be dead…” the young woman, Dana wept – she could not believe how they’d been saved. “…da’lawd sen’ you to us, da’lawd sen’ you to’us.”

“Shhh – I get my horse, you and the baby ride, we run alongside-…”

“No… we all gonna ride.” Broc’s deep voice came at them from the dark, startling the young couple. Asiza knew that he would be there.

“Who dat?” the young man, Samuel called out.

Exhaling, Asiza whispered, “He – wit’me.” She hated to say it, didn’t want him to hear it, but she knew it was so. She also knew that they needed him if they were going to get anywhere.

“Tell me you two can ride?” Broc asked speaking low.

“Sa’ – promise you, put us on a horse, we ain’ comin’ off.”   

“Good, once we get ridin’ – that’s it.”

“We firs’ needs to figa’ out where they goin’.” Asiza spoke up.

“I know where they’re goin’. Got your saddle too – you ride with me, they ride together – let’s go.”

“Huh? Oh no – I ain’-…”

“You tryin’ t’get us all killed Asiza?” He asked bluntly.

She snapped her mouth shut.

Fifteen minutes later, they were riding with Broc’s horse in the lead as he held the reigns to Flower with Samuel, Dana and their young one sandwiched between – safe and secure. Realizing the value of their mounts and making sure the horses remained together, they kept to a careful trot, not willing to go so fast they would tire them out, nor cause them to misstep. It was going to be a long night – but they would not stop until they reached the meeting point.

Asiza sat behind Broc, reluctant to lean against him, she kept her hands on her thighs sitting back, but that position was not going to work for long, with the back of the saddle digging into the upper portion of her rump.

He knew that.

“Lean forward agains’ me.” He instructed in a low murmur.

“Don’ wan’ to.” She whispered back. “You bes' be takin' us where you say, don' gimme no reason t’kill you.” She warned, still suspicious.

Broc sighed long and deep, “You'ah see, I'm takin' them, right where they trying to go.”

Asiza made no sound, trying to find an instinct or feeling inside as to whether it was right or wrong to trust him.

Whereas Broc was thinking of her and that he’d finally gotten her to respond to him, even if in a tiny way, “Not a good idea you ride that way.”

“I'm jus' fine thank you.”

“You en’up sore, in pain, can’nah move right, or fight if we need to, you’ah be sorry. Don’t let yer stubbornness get you, one of them or me killed… not that you care if I’m killed or not.” He mumbled that last part.

It only took her a moment to see the right in what he said, she leaned forward against him, putting her arms around his body. Their proximity to each other, gave her a good measure of him. He was a big man for sure, sitting so close, his size dwarfed her. The power of him – feeling it in his back, did funny things to her – gave her feelings she’d never had before. She never thought leaning against a man, holding on to him would make her body act funny, feel so funny.