Princess Ces'alena (42 page)

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Authors: Mercedes Keyes

BOOK: Princess Ces'alena
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With the crowd dispersed, he gathered his things; with the knowledge that he’d at least seen to the needs of the people at Webster Fields. They would be fine now with Jordan in charge, with the added white manpower and his father backing them. His only prayer now, was that he could remove the desire to fix the one thing he could not, his relationship with Lena. He would focus on his son, doing so maybe then he could drop her from his heart, as she had obviously dropped him from hers.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Ten

 

In town, Manny gathered all the supplies they needed, as Charles made last minute partings with Mildred. With both horses packed for travel, and a purchased pack mule between them, they headed off.

Days, weeks, and months they traveled following the few leads they had on Chester Sands. After three months searching, they finally located Sands, in of all places, New Orleans. By then however, it was too late, he had sold Mike before he’d even left the state of Mississippi, to a slave auctioneer in Jackson. When Manny heard that, once again faithful to his character makeup, emotions overrode all else. Charles was caught in one hell of a struggle to keep Manny from killing the man. Charles had to turn to violence himself to get Manny off of him, which now landed the two friends in a heated tussle.

In the heat of the fight, Chester ran for his life, barely able to see out of his swollen eye, he’d spit out his front teeth, he’d suffered a broken nose, a possible fractured jaw, busted ribs, and internally, there was a powerful pain from the pummeling his body endured. He would have gone to the law, if not for the fact that he was wanted in three states for swindling, forgery, illegal slave trading, bank robbery and kidnapping.

Charles and Manny scuffled in the back alley until Manny had him on the ground about to deliver another punch to his already bruised face when he realized what he was doing. Shoving Charles from him, and throwing himself back against the building, he sat breathing deep. Charles pulled himself up sitting next to him.

“That man - deserved to die! I promised to kill him – promised my son.” Manny spat heatedly.

“Maybe so - but not by your hand, find your son, let someone else kill him.”

Manny shot up from the ground, “Well get up and stop wasting our precious time.” He grumbled as he walked from the alley. Charles stayed put, in no hurry, flexing his jaw to test it; wiping away the blood flowing from his mouth. As he sat there, he wondered if he might need his head checked. A minute or so later Manny returned, “Are you coming or not?”

Charles looked up, “I don’t know…I’m thinking about it.”

“You can think about it on your horse, let’s go.” He walked over with a hand out to pull him up. Thinking about it, his eyes fixed on Manny’s hand, he took a deep breath, grabbed hold; Manny pulled him up.

They proceeded on to Jackson, Mississippi. Arriving a week later, they checked into a room. Ordered a bath, got something to eat, and jumped right into locating the auctioneer. However, with all the conflicts with the Creek’s red stick war against the British arms brought in from the Spanish port of Pensacola, they had to tread carefully. Redcoats were everywhere, and every man about his business was under suspicion. Although they were not yet fighting, Manny and Charles didn’t want to get caught up in the melee of it.

Following a few days stand still, having to constantly state the order of their business; they were allowed to proceed freely. It wasn’t long before they tracked the auctioneer, Dathan Stone. Charles had to do most of the talking, because Manny was too sensitive with coming this close to another who had contact with his son. During the questioning, Dathan kept looking back at Manny.

“Do you remember having possession of such a boy?” Charles asked after giving his description to Mr. Stone. “Of course I do. I don’t get many like him. Looking as he did, truth be told, I suspected something shady concerning the boy, considering the fact he was in the hands of Chester Sands. But I bought him just to get him away from that reprobate. The boy was yours wasn’t he? He wasn’t no slave.” This he asked of Manny, anyone could see, the boy was the spit of him.

Listening to the man, calmed Manny, he could tell he wasn’t cruel. But he would not lie. “He was free.” stated Manny; “I freed him…and claimed him. He was not for sale, to anyone. Tell me please, how was he? How did he look? I mean…?”

Sighing, the man answered, “Besides being dirty, he was a fighter. He looked to be in good health, if that’s what you mean?”

Manny nodded, his chest was hurting again. Mr. Stone watched him, and had he not admitted it, he would have sworn the boy was pure, either instance, he didn’t want to know anymore; facing Manny he now informed him that Mike was sold to a farmer, who was also a banker. His name was David Lawrence; he’d been traveling through, relocating his family to their new home in Arkansas. He went on to explain, “The man took pity on the boy, so he bought him as a playmate for his eight year old son. He owned a few other slaves, not many - just enough to run his household and farm. I could have gotten more for the boy, but those who would have paid more…let’s just say - I had something against selling him to them.”

Manny felt the familiar rush of tears, swallowing and grinding his jaw, he spoke trying not to cry. “Thank you for that; I thank you.”

After five months of searching for Mike, they were on their way to Arkansas to get him; it shouldn’t be hard to locate the banker. Manny was feeling some relief now as they prepared to head out again. They couldn’t move fast enough for him; he was finally going to get his son back.

 

PREVIOUSLY THAT SAME YEAR:

 

“You think it selfish of me to want to keep my son here?” Long Bow gently questioned his wife as she lay on his chest during a quiet moment together alone in their wigwam - it was early morning; she gently shook her head and answered “No, I would never think you selfish for loving your son and wanting to keep him near. It is just that, my father has offered to send him to the best school available. His money could open up all types of educational opportunities for our son. This could lead to a better way of life for him, as well in aiding his people. There can never be too many representatives for our cause. He could make a difference if he were qualified and equipped to go before the government.”

Long Bow’s head nodded in thought, “What you say may be true, but for right now, the education he receives from you, his mother, will do. I wish for my son to be here with me, can you understand that? There are few years left that I might mold him. I wish not to give them up before I have to. There may come a time when a school of your father’s choice may be best for him, but I feel the time is not yet.” He confided softly to his wife.

Red Dawn rose to her elbow looking down at her husband. She never thought of him as being selfish, and any decisions he made, she would follow without argument. She was in love with this man – had been fascinated by him from the start. Needing to get away from her mother, and the boring lessons of lady etiquette and manners, she’d taken off to go hunting.

Both of them happened to be stalking the same injured deer which had been hit by two arrows, one from each of them. Question was, who would claim the deer?

She had argued with him heatedly that she was the one who brought the deer down after tracking it to where it finally fell and died. The proof that she had struck the deer was proven by her arrow sticking out of it, clean through its heart and the absence of Long Bow’s arrow which had only pierced the deer’s shoulder before falling out as it struggled to flee.

Her arrow could not be mistake, it was from a batch made for her by Quincy, his own special design. She’d always enjoyed hunting, and although it was not a ladylike pastime, she derived pleasure from it, killing her own food before taking it home to cook and eat; this to the chagrin of her parents. Too many times she’d argued her right to be a huntress even from the time she was a little girl, and spent time in the woods, with Manny and Jordan; unafraid - bravely proving herself.

The day she met Long Bow, had been the case. She needed that deer, to show her father her skill. But there stood Long Bow, interrupting her plans. After refusing to release it to him, and bodily holding him from it, he took hold of the little fire brand, placed her on her horse and tied her hands to its saddle horn, then slapped the horses rump sending it and her home, while she shouted all kinds of curses back at him. Chuckling, he gathered his catch, unable to deny the distinction of her arrow. It was from that moment on that Long Bow could not get the fiery vixen from his mind. Often he found himself thinking of her and her bravery. Her courage - her strong will; at no time had she displayed even the tiniest bit of fear or apprehension towards him. Unable to keep himself from it, he ventured to her plantation in order to catch a glimpse of her.

After several weeks of watching her; her arguments; her tantrums; her stand with her parents, and her kindness towards the slaves; he stood with the resolve, that he wanted her. She would be his. Josephine had often seen the dark Indian observing her.

A few times he’d been bold enough to make it known that he was watching her. Causing strange feelings to erupt within her when she felt his gaze upon her; where most would have been frightened into fits of hysteria and fainting, she was drawn to him. And then one cool breezy, summer night, he stole his way into her bedroom, quiet as a stalking cat. He covered her mouth with his palm, and told her simply. “I’ve decided…to have you…this night. You will be mine.” Josephine had not spoken a word, as she abandoned herself to him, and all he would do to her. She lost her virginity to him that night; and had been his ever since.

“What is on your mind?” Long Bow asked, the question bringing her back to the present. “Oh, how much I love you. How much I will always love you. Which is why, I intend to make love - to you now.”

Long Bow smiled in anticipation as she went down to his chest, slowly laving it with her warm mouth and attentive tongue. “Your passion matches the redness in your hair. Emm, I will never be sated with you, especially if you - continue - in - emmm…this.” His eyes closed from the pleasure of her touch, watching him closely, her eyes glazed with desire. “That is my intent my husband…that - is - my - intent.” She admitted brazenly as her hand went down to his loin cloth. Flipping it out of her way as she boldly grabbed a hold of his painfully hard phallus. Long Bow groaned as his wife poured all she felt into loving him.

His hands became busy as well, stroking over her red silky hair, down her back and to her firm rear and lower in between. She was wet and ready for him as his fingers played havoc with her slipping control. Drawn out foreplay was not a need for them, soon she was straddling him, sinking onto the solid length of him. His hands grabbed hold of her hips as she rocked back and forth striving for that point of pleasure they both sought. Working together with a rhythm that matched - they didn’t have long to wait as her speed increased. With her head thrown back, Red Dawn’s hips gyrated, savoring the feel of her husband filling her. His hands guiding her, pacing her as his pelvic thrust promised the pace that would send her over the edge.

“Oh - I love you…I love you.” She panted.

He reached up and pulled her down to him, attacking her mouth, as his free hand went to cup and squeeze her breast. A moment later the spiraling tightness began to build, feeling it…Red Dawn broke the kiss gasping as she ground down harder. Bracing herself she gazed into her husband eyes. “Oh my god…I’m gonna-…” Shaking her head, she tried to hold back and wait for him, there was no need, he was there with her as he grabbed her hips and held her in place to drive them both that last bit further before they were both overcome with a wonderful torment; wave after unrelenting wave washed over them. One giving, the other taking as they peaked with a climax that left them trembling. Laying side by side, taking in much needed oxygen as their perspiring bodies calmed, Red Dawn peaked at her husband as he lay chuckling. “What is so funny?” She asked still on her back. “I was just wondering.”

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