Princess Ces'alena (62 page)

He would make those responsible pay… for his father’s death… many more would die, he would see to it. For all that the white man had taken away from them, he was determined to take it back - or kill - and die in the trying.

In the months that followed, Lena stayed longer than the two days they usually did. She needed to be with Red Dawn, and she didn’t care if Morris or anyone else questioned her whereabouts.

There was no need to worry, because Kayleen and Thomas both made up excuses for her absence whenever it was questioned, which was not very often. Finally Red Dawn was able to bring herself to fulfilling her husband’s last request of her. She exchanged her Indian garb, for the fashion at the time. Did the same with her son, and returned to her parent’s home. After telling them of the fall of her husband, she placed his request before her father. Not a moment was wasted to see it through.

In her absence, Lena filled in teaching at the village and while there, there was no need to hide her Hope. They became a regular fixture within the village, Amber Swan and her Gold Raven as they were known.

Although Hope enjoyed their time at the Indian village, Red Crows absence stole part of her enjoyment. So she was no longer so eager to visit as before. Lena now had to come home as she did before, because Hope didn’t want to stay. But time passed…and she stayed busy, and for the moment, she could put off any hard and fast decisions.

JUNE 1813…

CHARLESTON, SOUTH CAROLINA

The docks in Charleston were crowded and busy. Ships loading and unloading large wooden crates of traded cargo. Robust laughter and colorful remarks resounded among men happy to be returning from the sea. The majority of them yelling of plans in the way they would celebrate now that they were home. For too many, their time out to sea had seemed an endless journey.

Now they rushed to do whatever last minute jobs of completion so that they would be free to begin their furlough.

Eagerness spurned them on to spend their pay on drink and women. In the midst of all the activity, the wooden planks of the pier groaned under the weight of the heavy tread from the big man carrying his weighted sea sack over his shoulder. Taking steps direct and sure…he refused to pause in his strides forward…causing curses from those whom his barreling through shoved aside.

Many choked back their complaints after staring at his massive form, deciding they would not like to call the attention of this one, whose muscular hardness might prove harmful if provoked.

He stopped to ask directions from one of the dock workers, the deep rumble of his voice getting the man’s immediate attention. “Where can I buy a ticket for the next steam boat down the Mississippi to Jackson?”

“You going to Jackson?” The man at the weight crane asked absently, and was rewarded with a hard glare for the stupidity of his question; of course deserving no answer…he didn’t get one.

“Echm - well umm, just follow the dock around that corner and you’ll see the steamer off to the side there. To the left of it, is where you can go to buy a ticket. Um, there’s a hotel a block down the street, if you want to take …a…rest….” The man trailed off as the stranger departed before he finished.

The dock worker shivered - glad the man was just passing through.

There was something cold and cruel about the looks of him. He reminded him of a Nordic Viking of old…dangerous without an ounce of scruples.

Manny had returned.

His voyage at sea…failed him tremendously in chasing away his demon. Oh, his monetary gains were sure, but the experience loaded with the reason he ran to the sea, only served to make him hard and cold.

The man now returning was different from the one who’d left a little over two years ago. His entire body had hardened to a larger mass in muscular build. Contributing to it, was the continuous loading and unloading of heavy cargo, where three or more of his men along with him, strained to the chore to transfer merchandise on and off the ships, and then down into cargo holds within. Climbing rigging along the main masts and having to stand up and battle with sails in raging storms at sea, toned his body in a way that left him solid.

The entire time, he kept himself fully active on board his ship… learning and doing along with his men, all that was expected of them. He too wanted full participation…he wanted to wear himself out, where at the end of the day… nothing but sleep would claim him. Aside from the hardness of his body, there also was the hardening of his heart. His coldness evolved from growing tired of letting people run over him, and control his life.

This he would no longer stand for; a viciousness took over him when at sea, his ship had been attacked by pirates who stole his entire cargo of gold and precious stones still yet uncut, but highly valued just the same. He would forever carry the scars on his cheek, chest, arms, and stomach where his adversary sought to lay him open.

He’d lost that initial battle and cargo, but after recovering from his injuries, he had recouped his losses upon purchasing the Mazon Voyager.

A swift battle frigate, equipped for war to do battle with any ship who dare challenge it. He had hunted down the Sea Wolf, and its captain…known as the Sea Tramp. Backing him were some of the most blood thirsty curs around. For the promise of a hefty purse, and loyalty to their captain…he promised a payroll none could ignore. Always having about him a quality of leading men, he was able to convince and motivate many into following him in pursuit of his revenge. Manny wanted to hurt…he wanted a reason to lash out and inflict intense pain. There was a heated resentment within burning for an outlet, and the Sea Tramp was his deserving, unfortunate target.

The Sea Wolf and its captain symbolized all that was wrong in Manny’s world. That great heaving ship, with its soul intent to sweep in and wreck, rob and victimize those who only sought smooth passage to earn a living. With fighting men behind him, he caught up to the Sea Wolf, and a bloody battle ensued. When the blood and spit had settled, Manny took possession of the ship and its treasures stolen from other ships. A man of his word, he took what was originally his, and a portion more and gave the rest to his men.

For those who had sailed on the Sea Wolf, he gave the choice of wading at sea, or joining him by disclosing the whereabouts of other hidden treasures stolen at sea. They chose to follow Manny, as their old captain’s body was hefted overboard along with other fallen fighters. Seeing with their own eyes how he gave generously to those who followed him, they ransacked the Sea Wolf, and went on a treasure hunt. Again, Manny claimed only possession of the ship, and a small portion of the treasure…the rest, he gave to the men who would follow.

By the time Manny’s voyage came to it’s close, he’d gained two more ships…the Mazon Voyager that he’d purchased, making back the currency for that purchase 5 times over in his taking possession of the Sea Wolf. He never did get back to the merchant trading that his initial voyage had been planned for. He played the role as pirate, with a crew of cutthroats that came to respect his style of leadership. Those who challenged him met their deaths. He knew as soon as he’d decided to pursue the Sea Wolf, what it would cost him to play the role. If he was going to make the claim…there was no room for him to bluff. It was vital to his survival that they fear him, as well respect him. His generosity made it easy for every man present to forge a loyal and lasting allegiance to him. Yet, even though he’d prepared himself for the activity he found himself in, it affected him, despite the hard shell he hid behind.

It wasn’t long before he turned to drinking to get him through one situation after another, and soon finding himself in the midst of the British blockade when warring with Canada. He spent his time obtaining temporary relief from his celibacy at various ports and after a while - he came to use women at his leisure when one caught his fancy. Doing all he could to purge the image of her from his mind…and his heart. As much as he fought what he knew he must do, the dangers of the Mediterranean and Atlantic ocean forced him to point towards home. He had been running long enough.

While at sea he had grown a beard that was kept short and neat connecting to his sideburns and moustache. His hair was cropped on the top and sides, but long enough in the back to wear the queue…adding to his look of a pirate. Yet with all that had happened to him, with whatever change might have taken place, one thing remained strong and true. At the end of the day, his amber ghost haunted him to no end.

With his ticket purchased, he checked into the hotel down from where the steam boat was moored. Now alone in his room, he lay in bed after a long soak from the hot bath he’d ordered. Not bothering to dress — he lay with the back of his head cradled in his clasped hands; comfortable in his nudity.

His eyes absently following the progress of a roach crossing the ceiling. The roach of course was the least of his concerns. What plagued him were thoughts of
her
. For some reason, running hadn’t left her behind. She followed him where-ever he sailed. His dreams disturbed with visions of her softness, her smile.

‘
How could one person hold such power over another?’
he wondered. All his sailing, fighting, killing, drinking and whoring had served only to make him calloused and worldly. Forcing him to see a bigger picture of the world he lived in, and the truth was… there was no place to go where one could find peace; until he could find peace at home and within himself.

With his mind made up, he would face his demon head on, as he faced the raging seas, as he battled with swords and cutlasses, and canons firing. He would stand strong before the five foot three, one hundred twenty some odd pounds of woman, who alone, could bring him to his knees. As no man yet, had defeated him, she would not!

Then his heart reacted to the thought that went through his mind,
‘She could have another child by now.’
His eyes closed, “I shouldn’t have left. God - why did I leave? And for so long? What chance will I have now?” He whispered to himself; then grunted in anger, “Here I go again!” Every night it started the same, him thinking of all the things he wished he’d done differently. “I must be going insane. If she could not love me and trust in me enough after months of absence, why in hell would she be waiting after two years?”

His chest rose and fell with a dramatic sigh as he bolted up to a sitting position with one knee raised and a forearm resting on it as he ran his fingers over the short spiky hair.

“Damn you, damn you! Why can’t you leave me the hell alone? Why must I continue to be a fool for you?! How is it that after all this time I still harbor thoughts of forgiving you?” His head fell back as his hand wiped down over it; covering his face he said her name. “Princess Ceś alena…what I would give…to rip you from my heart.” With heavy disgust he stretched his long solid form out again punching the pillow, and kicking the covers away from him as he tried to position himself for a much needed sleep. Dreading the coming vision of her that would haunt him in his dreams, where he would lay curled and sobbing, begging her to have mercy and come back to him.

He started to rise in pursuit of a drink, then with the grinding of his teeth he swore, “Not tonight damn it! I will not succumb! I will sleep tonight, and I will not drink to do it.” He turned over again with strong determination to do just that, but as always - as he drifted, soft sounds of her sighs washed over him, mewling pants of her pleasure at his hands, and his body responded.

It was a long night.

The next morning he ate a hearty breakfast, and boarded the Mississippi steamer for Jackson, from there he would purchase a mount, and head for home.

It was time.

Lena sighed, she was tired this evening as she stood in the kitchen preparing supper for Katherine and Morris. She hadn’t had much sleep because of having returned very late the previous night from the Indian village, and then only to find that Katherine had been home for a few days.

Though exhausted, she felt fulfilled in an inexplicable way. Since the Indian village and Red Dawn, her life had taken on a purpose just for her. It was an outlet for something that meant a lot to her, and she enjoyed every moment, no matter how risky each trip. However, Morris was wondering about her constant absence from her duties on the plantation, that Kayleen or Ruby now did. In addition to his attentions, Kayleen was not very happy with her resenting not being able to see Hope as much, and she complained about her not doing her part in the kitchen, saying… “I like to go off and do somethin’ too sometime you know!”

And so it was that she - for the next few days would see to the cooking, and Kayleen would see after Hope, who ended up at Mazie’s anyway to play. All was fine with Lena, just as long as Hope was out of sight of Morris and Katherine.

Red Dawn had slowly regained her desire to teach, but not on a steady basis as before, and soon she and Lena persuaded Justin Colt to take over the teaching. Thomas still did his trips, but now - he went without Lena on occasion. Twice she’d gone with him alone without Hope…leaving her with Mazie and Kayleen. At the present, there was a certain tension between her and Thomas, despite what he thought of her often avoiding him. Outside of the journey’s to the village, both of them were caught in thoughts of - what if.

Her mind ever throwing about possibilities for the decisions she should make. Thomas was at the point now of wondering if he had wasted his time and emotions, yet he still could not give up the hope of having her as his wife.

Lena’s mind conjured images of her son, if she should leave with Thomas, and he did find Michael? Would he accept Thomas as his father, or would he want Manny? How could she live away from Manny, with his two children - knowing how he loved them, with Thomas as their father? More than anything, if she was Thomas’s wife, and Manny came on the scene, could she stay faithful to Thomas? Or would she long for Manny, and give in to him? Once he found out the truth concerning Hope, she knew he would pursue her relentlessly…how would she deal with it all? She couldn’t think about it anymore, it was too much. She would finish supper, go get her daughter, and head for bed.