“Why did she have guards?”
“My mother’s sister was both my aunt and my queen.”
Sable stared in surprise. “Is this queen the woman Morse spoke of as being my grandmother?”
Mahti nodded and continued, “Those captured that day who did not die on the Middle Passage were sold to a man in Virginia named Bryce. Later, he said he knew from the moment he saw your grandmother in the slave market that she was someone special, simply by the way she carried herself. He purchased us and twenty other Africans who’d made the journey over in the belly of the same slaver. After he brought us all to his farm, he noticed that the other slaves did her work, that we deferred to her and bowed to her whenever she came near. He surmised that he’d purchased a great queen.”
“What did he do?”
“He let her assume her natural place. You see there were a few other royals owned by masters in the region. Over time, these owners had learned that allowing royals or elected headmen to rule the captives made dealings with the African slaves easier, so Bryce followed their example.”
Mahti took a sip of water before continuing. “My aunt was of mid-age when she was first brought to this country. Bryce treated her like the queen she was and never once approached her to breed her. He took care of her people, even taught us all to read. In exchange, she saw to it that his farms were productive and free of turmoil. We stayed with Bryce for almost ten years, then when he died, we were sold to a man in Maryland named Caufield.”
Mahti’s voice turned bitter. “Caufield did not respect your grandmother. One night, a few days after we arrived, he forced her to mate with him even though she swore she would kill herself afterward, and that he himself would follow her into death. Laughing, he did the deed anyway and months later, she gave birth to a female child, your mother Azelia. In our kingdom, the royal line runs through the woman, and a baby does not reach true life until the age of three years. On Azelia’s third birthday, your grandmother placed the small queen in my care and kissed me good-bye. Her last words to me were, “The sun shines brighter on my day, knowing you are here.”
Sable’s heart seemed to stop. Those were the same words she’d said to Mahti only a moment ago.
As if she’d read Sable’s mind, Mahti said, “Your words are a sign that she is near, and if she is near, it is time.”
Sable had so many questions, she couldn’t contain them all, but the one most prominent had to do with her grandmother’s fate. “What happened to her?”
“Later that night, she took a skinning knife and went up to Caufield’s bedroom. After preparing and cleansing
herself, she drew the blade across each wrist. She let herself bleed to death atop his bed.”
Sable felt her stomach roll.
In a firm angry voice Mahti said, “She was a queen, a royal, not a mare to be used by an illiterate barbarian, but she was avenged. The Society came for Caufield the next night.”
“Who or what was that?”
“A group of African men who enforced the traditional spiritual laws. In our homeland they were a secret society and wore masks and robes designed to frighten. They were said to be the physical reincarnation of spirits. They would come in the middle of the night to remind you to stay on the right path.”
“These societies existed here?”
“Oh yes. We were able to maintain many of our traditional ways for many years here. The maskers were one of our biggest secrets.”
“Do these societies still exist?”
Mahti shrugged. “It is hard to know. There are very few of the Firsts still alive today.”
“Did my mother know all these things?”
Mahti nodded. “Yes. Unlike you, she grew to womanhood knowing her history. I regret I didn’t shield her as I did you.”
“Why?”
“If I had, maybe she would have chosen a different path.”
For a moment Mahti’s memories seemed to take her away. Sable saw the sadness in her face as her great aunt reached out and caressed Sable’s cheek. “We are getting ahead of ourselves. I was talking about Caufield, was I not?”
Sable nodded.
“The Society came for him in the middle of the night. I was a parlormaid for Caufield’s wife at the time and she allowed me to sleep on the floor in her room. I awakened to the sound of her screams and saw five men
in hideous, misshapen masks and red robes standing in the open doorway. They appeared to be taller than any men I’d ever seen, and they were holding the struggling Caufield by the arms. I knew right away what they represented and why they’d come. They began to speak, but just as at home, the masks were designed to alter the voices of the wearer, and so the speech came out distorted and fearsome. They told her they were taking her husband to be judged for crimes committed against the queen. They told her a similar fate would befall the remaining members of her family should any slave be punished for Caufield’s taking.”
“Was he ever found?”
“Yes, the next morning. He’d been drawn and quartered. Mrs. Caufield never recovered. She sold every slave on the place the next day.”
“And you were all sold to the Fontaines?”
“Yes, your mother was three years old when we arrived. Carson Fontaine was fifteen, nearly a man.”
“So how did she die?”
“Just as your grandmother did. I warned Carson beforehand that Azelia was a royal, and of the fate he would reap should she be made to breed against her will, but like Caufield, he laughed. First Rhine was born and two years later, you. He stopped laughing the night he found her dead in his bed. She took her life just as the old queen had done.”
“Why did she wait until after my birth?”
“Your brother Rhine was a male child. She needed a female heir for the royal line, so she waited for you.”
An immense sadness welled up inside Sable. “What made Carson bring me into the house?”
“Guilt at first. I doubt he had any real feelings for Azelia, but remember, I told him what had happened to Caufield. After Azelia’s death, he went up to Virginia where Mrs. Caufield was staying with her sister and talked to her. He returned home a bit more believing after that. He called all the slaves together and told them
he would be bringing you into the house to live, and that you would learn all the things his daughter Mavis learned. He also promised you would never be sold.”
“Mrs. Caufield’s story must have really frightened him.”
“I believe it did indeed. After he returned, he took me out of the field and made me overseer of the looms, but I told him at the time, the spirits didn’t care how generous he’d become, he would still be punished for his crime against Azelia.”
“Is that the curse Morse spoke of?”
“I’m sure it is, but I didn’t curse Carson. I simply told him the truth. Now that he has sold you, the time has come.”
“What time?”
“The time for you to begin your journey and for me to begin mine.”
Mahti began to cough and Vashti gave her another sip of water. When the spasm passed, she slumped back against the stuffed feedsacks bracing her in the bed. She appeared to be very tired. Her aged hand cupped Sable’s cheek affectionately. “Vashti will tell you what you need to do. You and I will talk more tomorrow.”
Sable had no idea the talk would change her life forever.
The next night, Sable stood outside on the front walk watching the Fontaine mansion burn. The entire structure was engulfed, the flames dancing against the night sky. The blazing interior glowed with such a blinding light, it looked like a portal to hell. For Mahti it had served as a passageway home.
Vashti had awakened Sable less than an hour before and quietly instructed her to rouse Mavis and Sally Ann. She said Mahti wanted to speak with everyone outside as soon as possible.
Sable had little trouble getting Mavis to comply with Mahti’s request. Upon hearing Sable’s explanation, Ma
vis took a light blanket, wrapped herself in it, and sleepily made her way downstairs.
Sally Ann proved more difficult. She snapped, “It’s the middle of the night, Sable. What could Mahti possibly want at this hour?”
“I’m not certain, but she’s never given you anything but loyalty all these years. Will you humor her, please, just this once?”
At first Sable thought Sally Ann would refuse, but she finally swung her legs over the bed, saying coolly, “Just this once, Sable. And it better not take long.”
“I’m certain it won’t.”
Carson Fontaine slept in the far wing. Since Vashti had not given Sable instructions to rouse him, she simply followed Sally Ann outdoors.
The first thing Sable noticed as she stepped outside was the heavy scent of kerosene. She found the strong scent puzzling, and looked around a moment hoping to find the source but she became distracted by a small knot of people assembled on the walk. On hand were most of the remaining adult slaves. In their hands were torches. Only then did she notice Mahti. Her great-aunt stood off by herself, chanting softly yet audibly in the language of her homeland. Sable had never before seen the majestic red robe Mahti was wearing, or the heavy gold jewelry around her wrists and throat.
Sally Ann called out angrily, “Mahti, why are we out here?”
Vashti turned to her mistress and said in a firm but low voice, “She needs silence to prepare.”
It was the first time Vashti had ever spoken so sharply to her mistress. As if stunned, Sally Ann didn’t say another word.
While everyone stared enrapt, Mahti held her hands up to the night sky. Seconds later, as if by command, the moon came out from behind the clouds, bathing the silent scene in an ethereal light.
Mavis slid up behind Sable and asked softly, “What is she doing?”
Sable shrugged, not taking her eyes off her aunt. In the moonlight, Mahti looked younger and stronger than she’d appeared in years.
In a loud voice Mahti called out, “The Queens are gathering. The time has come.”
Sally Ann laughed. “I’m going back inside. I’ve had enough of this mumbo-jumbo.”
Vashti took her by the arm. “You will stay. Watch and learn.”
Mahti then began to recite a litany of names. A confused Sable looked to Vashti, who explained, “They are the names of the Old Queens. Out of respect she must summon them all.”
When the naming ended a few moments later, the night was silent. Mahti stepped up onto the porch. Using what appeared to be a ladle, she dipped it into a weathered bucket at her feet and began tossing a liquid onto the porch and the dry, weed-filled grounds fronting the house. Chanting as she went, she seemed to be anointing the area around her. Once again the smell of kerosene filled Sable’s nose, and a sliver of alarm gripped her.
Mahti tossed the ladle aside and took a moment to look out at the small assembled crowd before saying, “Vashti, the time has come.”
Vashti took a torch from one of the slaves, and after walking up to the porch, placed it reverently in Mahti’s hand. Once Vashti returned to her place beside Sable, Mahti touched the torch to the high weeds framing the steps. Flames leaped to life. She then touched the porch and the tall columns anchoring it. Fire appeared, climbing, seeking, spreading. A line of flame now stood between the house and the horrified onlookers. On the porch, behind the line, stood Mahti.
Looking directly into Sable’s eyes, she spoke in a calm, clear voice. “I’ve given you all you’ll need, my
Sable. The Old Queens send their love. They will protect you. Listen for them.”
Mahti touched the torch to the wood framing the door. Sable felt Mavis clutch her arm. “Father’s still in there, Sable! Do something!”
Sally Ann tried to break away from Vashti’s hold, but the old woman snapped, “Silly woman! It is his time to die, not yours.”
A wall of fire separated Mahti and the burning house from those watching. The crackling flames had become a roaring conflagration.
“Someone do something!” Mavis screamed.
Mahti’s voice rose on the night. “It is already done. If I burn in the Christian hell, so be it. What hell can be worse than slavery!”
Through the shimmering curtain of flame, Sable saw her aunt slowly remove the robe and jewelry. Nude now, Mahti began to walk farther inside the burning house. Not once did she look back to see the tears streaming down Sable’s cheeks.
An hour had passed since then, and now Sable stood silently, watching the dying flames send Mahti home. Behind her Sally Ann sobbed softly. Carson had gone to his death, just as Mahti had promised. Sally and Mavis had lost husband and father, but Sable had lost the anchor of her whole world.
Grief wailed within Sable like a live beast, but because she’d been trained to hide her emotions, it did not show. She sat and kept vigil all night, long after a weeping Mavis had helped the broken down Sally Ann to the slave cabins to try and rest, long after the house had collapsed in on itself and the fire had died down to embers.
At dawn, Vashti came to Sable and said, “It is time for you to begin your journey.”
Sable looked up with sad eyes.
Vashti held out an old canvas bag. “Mahti left you these things.”
Sable took the offering and held it to her breast. She had no idea what the bag contained, but it had come from Mahti, and for now, that was enough.
“You must go now, Sable. Sally Ann has sent one of the children for Morse. You must be gone before they return.”
Sable stood. She took a moment to give Vashti a hug of farewell and bask in the balm she received from the root woman’s aged arms. As Vashti held the grieving Sable close, she whispered, “You have been raised to walk in both worlds, and the Queens will show you their purpose. Go with my love and with theirs.”
Turning, Sable took a moment to commit to heart and mind the house’s still smoldering remains, then she headed toward the road. Like her great-aunt Mahti, she did not look back.
S
taying off the road, Sable used the trees and thick underbrush lining the roadway to shield her passage. Thigh-high weeds snagged her skirts, and in some places she had to push aside low-hanging branches. The ground proved to be rocky and uneven as she crossed streams and followed the hilly terrain of the vast Fontaine land, but she kept pace, intent upon placing as much distance between herself and her past as possible.