The Fancy (28 page)

from another – this,” She tapped at her head for

Sarah to realize what she meant, “A man who is

powerful, uses this first, he fil s it with al that is

needed to get other men to listen to his voice. The

more men that he has who wil listen, fol ow and

remain loyal, the more powerful he becomes. Do you

understand?”

Sarah nodded, “So then, he must be wise?”

“Some are - some are not. You see, I believe,

“Some are - some are not. You see, I believe,

wisdom only comes when you use your mind, and

your heart. There are men, who do not use their

hearts – at al , because if they use their hearts – their

hearts wil compel them to share the riches and

plenty they gain with those in their domains, the little

people - let’s say, that keep his kingdom standing.”

“I don’t understand? Why would they not

choose to be wise?”

“Some do choose to be wise. But – at the

same time, there are those who choose to be –

greedy, powerful and nothing else. There are two

kinds of kings, one is a king who has fought the

heavy fight, who has led the charge, who has bled

and struggled for his victory. Often times, this king is

wise. Then, there is the other type of king, this king

has not fought in any of the battles, he has shed no

blood, he has led no charge, nor stood with his men

fighting for victory.”

“Then how did he become king?”

“Inheritance.”

“What is, inheritance?”

“It is when, a king – perhaps the original – who

fought and led the battles – passed on al that he’d

fought for and gained, to his son. These sons,

unfortunately most, have been protected, guarded,

pampered, spoiled, lived a life of the very best; they,

these sons began thinking more of themselves than

they should. Thus, they became greedy, wanting

more power, and thus – out the window went wisdom

and the heart.”

“Thus, you have kings, who have no heart,

some not even this, -(she pointed at her head)- what

his forefather had – but they have lands, power, an

army. Now, al they can see is a need to have more,

and the only way to do that, is bring about war.”

Sarah sank back in her seat with her head

swimming; listening as El en gave actual instances

of what Lena had just told her.

They taught her about past wars, kings, dukes,

and how al the other titles existing came to be. They

discussed what makes a kingdom strong, and what

makes it weak, open for another rival nation to come

and take it. They talked about a people who were

once no more civilized than the tribes they attacked,

who were and are barbaric in what they fight to claim

simply because they had access to stronger

materials for weapons.

As they invaded, they took gold, silks and

styles and fashioned for themselves a standard of

life and living that if others were not of said fashion –

they were then considered uncivilized, only worthy of

turning into slaves.

These were the Welsh, the Irish, the Scots and

any other they conquered, until now – the time period

has moved on to push forward the last slave, the

African; the most sturdy slave of al . Because they

can endure the sun, the long hours of back breaking

work, and unlike the others, no matter what they are

wearing, they stand out.

For the fol owing days, Sarah was fil ed with

questions for Lena and El en, one after the other.

Some they answered in discussion, some Lena

made her read and research for the answers. The

more she did so, the more that al could see, it was

indeed changing her, little by little and Lena prayed,

for the best – because as she had always known,

knowledge was power – the problem with it was too

many with the knowledge, used the power it gave

them, and not their hearts.

Deciding that she’d taught enough, Lena met

her one day up top, on the deck of the ship as she

was standing, looking out at the vast sea awaiting

them, “Until the return of your husband, I want you to

spend the remaining time alone, to ponder what

you’ve learned. I want you to think about what some

have done with their knowledge, and power – and I

want you to think about what you wil do, with yours.

You are now, Lady Sarah Abigail Caine, Countess

of WhistHirst. What wil that name come to mean to

those within your husband’s estates? What wil his

name come to mean?” Lena finished and quietly

strol ed away, leaving Sarah alone to think.

Ponder she did, day after day, she read and

thought about al that she read. She stood at the

ships railings each new day and thought about al

that she could see before her. The men on the ship

that protected them; most white males, a few black,

Indian and Lena’s cook and doctor, Gaitsu the Asian

– he was a wise man – yet, not a king, but al upon

the ship, even Lena, looked up to him.

She thought about Princess Ces’alena, who

could have stayed with her father – but chose her

own king to stand with. Her husband, Maynard

Webster, a white man who was a king in his own

smal world because he used his mind and his heart

– making him the most wise man she’d met to date,

beside her husband.

Quinton Thaddeus Caine, was her husband.

Suddenly the acceptance of that sank true

within her. For the first time since al had taken

place, she realized that not only was he her husband,

but that she – was just as worthy as any other woman

on earth to cal him so, to stand by his side as his

“Lady”. Joy so profound sang loud and true within

her, she was not a fancy to be passed about if she

chose not to be. Now she understood the honor of

her people, her mother’s people. So many died

because they would be no man’s slave, they were

born free, and would die, free.

What honor was there in living, if you lived only

to make great those who despised you, demeaned

you, and thus, would not die for
you
? In the bible, she

knew that God’s son had died for her and that God,

the Father had given up His son for her, yes for al

those beneath them, and al He wanted in return, was

to be honored as the One and only true King, the

absolute Sovereign.

The time alone that Sarah spent thinking, she

final y saw the light, she got it. She decided, by her

husband’s side, she would be his countess, one in

which the true King – would be proud of.

More than a fortnight had passed since she last

saw the back of her husband. Standing upon deck,

speaking with one of the boys who was assigned to

clean up after Moose, who stood wringing his hands,

“Milady, ‘tis me that shu’be’doin’ it, not you Milady.”

He looked around, once more worried someone

would see that she was picking up the dog’s feces

instead of him.

Moose was lying on his stomach, making low

rumble, humble barking noises at her, as if

explaining himself for having done it, looking guilty –

pawing at her.

She had her gown rol ed up out of the way,

while using a rag to pick up his solid hefty, brown

smel y parcel.

“Please Milady, I’l see t’the rest, I wil .”

“Hmm, there are three more. If this chore that is

yours were seen to daily, there should be none. To

see it done and this ship clean, if I must do it myself, I

wil . He is my animal after al – why should you?”

“No Milady, it is smal , this chore. I wud ratha’ it,

than none, or some owt else.” The boy pleaded. Al

he had to do was watch the dog and where it

relieved itself, either splash the urine with soapy

water to clear it, or if the other, remove it

immediately, cleaning the spot.

Nothing else; in exchange, he had a warm bed,

delicious meals, clean clothing, a few coins to do

with as he wished; al given to him by Lady Caine.

Few were lucky enough to have a chore so smal

with so much given in return for a job wel done.

Yet, in his failing to carry out his chore, she’d

hurt his pride by doing it herself. Some would have

scolded him, slapped him about the ear, even

whipped him, or thrown him off and into the streets;

he found her form of punishment worse than al the

rest, because it made him ashamed of himself – with

her actions, she’d so much as said, she could not

depend on him – which made him worthless, he was

about in tears.

“Please Milady, no more.”

“Are you sure? Maybe I should clean the rest

and-…”

“No Milady, i’be my place, I’ve shame me father

enuf.” His eyes were weepy. He was a boy of 9,

already working away from home to help his family

who lived back at WhistHirst estates. Every coin she

gave him, he’d saved instead of spending it on

something for himself.

“Look at me, Aatu.” Sarah requested.

The young child lifted his eyes to hers; she

returned the gaze with the gentle care of a mother,

and then smiled at him, a beautiful smile.

“You are proud, for one so young. Even so, I

never wish to be unfair. The animal is mine, I would

ask nothing of you, - nothing of anyone, I would be

unwil ing to do myself – perhaps it is too much

responsibility to give one so young.”

“No! No Milady! I’l do it, an’ do it wel .”

“This grand ship is not ours, when we travel –

our Lord’s name travels with us. If even one of his

people fal s short in what is theirs to do, it can reflect

badly, on us al . I am proud, like you – I would not

have il words spoken against Milord, would you?”

The boy began to weep.

“Now now, do not cry,” She gently wiped his

tears away, touching him as tenderly as a loving

mother, “If I must do it alongside you to see the job

done correctly, and keep our name and proud honor

as one, I wil .”

“I – I wil keep honor wit’our name, I wil .” He

swore.

“Very wel , and should you need me, cal me.

We wil , together, one and al , work to keep honor

with our Lord’s name.”

“Yes Milady.” He nodded his head, and actual y

gave her a bow, even though she was not a queen;

to him, she had just become one - his.

A cal from above captured her attention, she

turned and stood next to Moose, who was now up on

his hind legs, front paws on the railings, barking

towards the group of men riding upon the docks,

coming their way.

They were back.

The moment she saw Quinton climbing down

from his horse, safe and sound, she gave Moose’s

head an eager rub; he was just as anxious, his bark

could be heard throughout the entire area of the

docks. The sound made her husband laugh out so

loudly she could hear it from where she stood,

smiling brightly, wanting to feel his arms around her.

He turned, walked up to the hansom, opened the

door of it and helped down a lady, dressed in a wel -

fitting gown, a cape, bonnet – those she recognized

made by Col een, the ones Quinton had taken for her

mother to wear.

She felt faint, emotions overwhelmed her so,

he’d done it. Al the men were returning, walking up

the gang plank, with her mother in the lead, looking

for her. Sarah walked along the railings, her eyes

wel ing up, her vision blurring. She stopped as her

mother final y spotted her; Cora’s eyes widened at

the sight of her daughter, standing regal, and more

beautiful than she’d ever seen her.

Stepping forward, closer to her daughter, to be

sure that what she was seeing was no trick of the

eyes, she lifted her hand to caress her cheek,

speaking in the tongue of the Powhatan people, “My

daughter, you have made me proud. You took my

words to heart – you have sweetened their tooth, so

much so, they ask for more, and bow at your wil .”

Sticking to the native tongue, Sarah replied, “My

mother, named me wel , taught me wel , and al that

you see, is what she – has done.” Her eyes spil ed

with tears. The two women embraced, letting the

time that once separated them be dissolved by their

reunion. Final y the mother pul ed away, saying stil in