Flight of Fancy: Cora's Daughters (2 page)

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ONCLUSION…
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WHAT’S NEXT?
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FOOTNOTE RESEARCH REFERENCES USED FOR FLIGHT OF FANCY:
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Flight of Fancy

Cora’s daughters – The Fancy Series

The first in the series is, ‘The Fancy’ – about Suga, MiaKoda’s last daughter, who was as sweet as her name. However, as is the case in most families, each child is an individual. With varying personalities, gifts, strengths, weaknesses and habits. This book is about the daughter Miakoda struggled to raise and mold into a fancy. She was as hard-headed as could be. For this child, it was MiaKoda’s or (Cora’s) greatest concern that she might possibly not survive to a ripe old age. Every parent worries over a child that is angry, at times bitter and sometimes mean. This was the case for Cora, not so much that her daughter had a bad-heart, no, Asiza’s problem was that she felt the most deeply hurt of all her sisters and those emotions evoked actions. To see their mother abused, tortured and spat upon by their master – disturbed them all. Witnessing the murders of their brothers, sent their father into a crazed madness. This was their accepted lot in life. It distressed each of them, but it was how this daughter responded which would cause consequences, that made Cora fear for her life.  

Flight of Fancy, is about…
Asiza
–(pronounced; Ah-see-za)– meaning: Forest Spirit

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Flight of Fancy

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I really must offer thanks to two very important ladies who assisted us in the final test read and clean up. We appreciate this more than you can know.
Gwendlyn Kallie and Serenity Baye – bless you both, as you have certainly blessed us here at Amber Swann Publishing Inc.

9

Flight of Fancy

Chapter One

North Carolina

Her hiding place was a perfect location for watching the sun set – with rays of it piercing the foliage of green leaves surrounding her – perched upon an ancient oak tree. Green was her favorite color, the color of the forest – the color of her eyes. Nestled here and there among the trees, thrilling and tickling her senses were the songs of the blackbirds. A short treat to a piece of beauty, before being frightened away.

To have spent even a moment seeing and hearing the glorious sounds provided by the God she loved, only saddened her, knowing she might never hear them again.

The hunters were out - they would kill her when they caught her – of that she had no doubt.

No matter... using all of her skills, she was determined they would never catch this weasel asleep. She was determined that it would not be easy for them. Her capture at some point – she felt was inevitable, it was only a matter of time. It was her destiny, her fate was clear to see.

Regardless – no matter her destiny, she would savor the taste of freedom while in flight to remain free. She would try with all her might, to live long enough to hear once more, the song of the blackbird. As difficult as her trial of life seemed, she had been raised and trained to have the patience of Job. She would hide and wait until they passed. No matter how sharp her hunger, she would not venture from her place of concealment until the coast was clear.

Cora, her mother, had taught her well. Cora knew what her daughters were to be with first-hand knowledge of their character and make-up. Thus, she trained them accordingly - giving each girl an altered version to fit them. In Asiza’s case, it was to help her survive. Confident of Asiza's thinking and reactions to their enslavement, Cora knew that her life would be different from the others.

Enduring the wait, Asiza thought of her mother – stressed by what she might be going through. Second to that worry, was concern for her younger sister, Suga.

She was the only sibling left at Clover Grove with her mother.

Suga was gentle, sweet and caring. Asiza feared that when her time came, and she was sold to whom so ever would take her - they would mistreat her. Asiza wished with all of her might that she could save Suga from such a fate and free her – so that she could be happy. To her, Suga deserved a better life than the one she was certain to have.     

Asiza missed her family - she missed them all from Clover Grove plantation. All, except for Gareth Kuiper, their master. Had she the chance, she would have killed him - just as she had slit the throat of the man who tried to own her. She did him in along with his two friends. Together, the three had tried to use her – abuse her. In her mind, at present, white men were the most despicable humans on the earth, if they were human at all. Thus, she had killed each of them – and now, she was on the run.

Asiza ate more of the blackberries in her pouch - they were refreshing and sweet. She reclined way up high, comfortable, moving ever so slightly as to not draw attention to her hiding place. She knew how long she might be forced to stay there. Thinking about her deed, brought her a moment of regret, but only a moment. She could not live, if her life meant allowing men to abuse her until they killed her – she simply would not allow it. If these men could be reasoned with, there would be no need for anyone to die. Unfortunately, all they could hear were the plans made within their heads. This scheme meant she and those like her, were to be degraded and downgraded to animal status. Asiza could not be that.

Subsequently, her only regret was that she was on the run, not the deed of killing. If forced, she would do so again. They – her mother and Master Gareth, tried to make her into a fancy. Right from the beginning, her mother knew that it was nonsense. A docile accepting fancy, she could never be.

It was not in her nature – her mother had known that she was a fighter from conception.

With all that Cora had gone through carrying Asiza in her womb, the odds were against her being born alive. She was born deep in the woods in the midst of a storm. Once born, she had been quiet with her eyes immediately open - gazing as if knowing right from the start, that her life would be cursed.

No loud cry announced her healthy and strong – she had only stretched, yawned and lay as if already bored – waiting – as if to say,
‘now what?’

Her hazel green eyes were alert, even as a baby, she looked suspicious and doubtful as she peered straight into her mother’s eyes as if accusingly asking,
‘Why you bring me here?’
 

Cora thought immediately that she was not a child, but a spirit of the forest. A part of the very place they hid in shelter from the storm. There was the fear as well that there was something wrong with her, that she would not live long, and so she named her, Asiza. A forest spirit, because she had thought she would go back to the forest. Time had proven this to be untrue.

Not only had she lived, but with a simmering resentment of the world her mother had brought her into. Every step of the way, Asiza fought her mother and the place she felt she would live out the rest of her life in.

The direction of Cora’s daughters lives were set because of one fact, each of them was stunning to look at - breathtaking in their own way. Just as Asiza’s beauty made one stare for long moments as if mesmerized, her sisters shared the very same curse. One of her attributes that made her stand out, were her eyes – which came from her father. To say they took one’s breath away was not an exaggeration.

Master Gareth had often nodded his head, rubbing his hands together in greedy anticipation,

“This another one gone bring me a few gold eagles, yes indeed, she will. Train her well Cora, train her well.”

Cora, was the name Master Gareth had given to her mother. And Cora, trained Asiza to the best of her ability, warning Master Gareth, “She will be – no man’s fancy.” She had told him, but he would not listen. All that he could see was the vast amount of money he would get for her and the reputation his plantation had for offering the prettiest women of color around.

Fancies trained and perfect to fill all the needs of any rich man willing to pay.

Back from her thoughts, Asiza glanced toward the ground – the hunters were giving up the hunt for today – unhappy with the conclusion of their pursuit. They’d be returning empty handed. Before hiding away, Asiza had left them something to think about.

Three dead dogs lay scattered for them to find. A fourth had run off yelping – he too would die when he stopped running. She smiled with narrowed eyes, once more – she had upset them, the white man.

Well trained hunting dogs were valuable, this party would not send out anymore for fear of losing them as well.
'Send mo', you gone lose'em.'
  Asiza thought, eager to kill every one of them if they dare.

Her mind flashed memories of a young captured runaway, being torn apart as he yelled and screamed from the canines that ripped through his flesh. She’d had an innocent crush on him. He’d taken off with two others, vowing that he would return for her, it was not to be. The hunting party had caught two of them, brought them back to show what would happen to anyone that tried to escape - they’d put the dogs on them.

Master Gareth had forced them all to watch.

Asiza remembered the lesson so well that she’d anticipated the arrival of the dogs, sure that they would be used. The sensation of killing each one sent such a heightened thrill of excitement through her, that she longed to kill more. Two died by her arrow, one by her dagger that she’d thrust deep and twisted, the last had nervously cowered, circling her, unsure, tucking its tail in, showing his fear, submitting to her.

The gesture did little good, with such memories haunting her, she showed it no mercy, hitting him in his hind quarters as he’d tried to run, yelping as the arrow embedded itself deep. “Em-hm, tuck’yo’tail an’run. Show’dem devils they come fo’me, they gone die.” She'd murmured, satisfied with the outcome.

Before the dog handlers rushed into the scene, she’d been up in the tree, listening as the owner had cursed and howled in anguish.

Two of those dogs had been his favorites, the other two, young and in training. Her eyes had narrowed with the thought,
‘Sen'me mo’t’kill. I swear fo'God, I'ah kill every'one.’
She craved.

The search was called off. They backed out of the forest in fear, gulping with their eyes bulging – looking around but never up. Each of them unsure if the next arrow would find its mark in their back, or neck.

It was only because she did not have enough arrows left to kill them
all
, that
they
lived.

Dusk was moving across the land, the sun setting, no one wanted to be in the woods at night. Asiza was not afraid of the woods, the forest was her friend and it would protect her.

Town of Bustoberti

Broc Wolf – was a descendant of the Tuscarora tribe, with a grandmother from the wolf clan. His grandfather had been an escaped Irish slave from a time long ago, back when the Irish arrived as bond servants. A fancy title given to them that still translated into slave. Many would have testified to that as they'd all been treated with disdain and contempt.

Their numbers diminished from a cruel genocide. Raped, murdered and spat upon - each of them, valued far less than all other slaves. One of many reasons, their skin could not bear up beneath the scorching sun. Because of this, there was a time that many were used to breed with the Indian and African slaves. As a consequence, their offspring were free replacements for imported slaves without transportation costs.

Thus, leading to the discovery of - the fancy.

As for Broc’s grandfather, he'd escaped when the changes were trying to be implemented. He was a man of pride and dignity who hated the English aristocracy to such a degree, he wished them all dead. To say the least, he wanted no part of helping them.

They had a problem.

The Irish, Indian and African were coming together as one, encouraging uprisings. They were raiding, rioting and killing - burning out their master's big house, executing those within and destroying their crops. The English
privileged
came up with a successful plan.

Pit them against one another. Divide and … conquer.

Talk the Irish into joining them with jobs as overseers and a chance to live better and be completely free -
equal
. Some took the dangling carrot – but for Broc's grandfather... nothing they offered could get him to join them – he was not fooled by their cunning. He had escaped his bond – his servitude that would only end if he became one of them. He would never forget that they had once spat upon his people – he wanted nothing from them. He ran and joined a tribe, choosing his mate for life and together they had several sons and daughters.