This story contains graphic but completely fictional depictions of sex among men and men, and men and underage boys and/or girls, and even nekkid women show up now and then If this offends you, if it is illegal for you to read or download this, or if you are under 18, please go away.
Seaward Plantation
War clouds chapter eight
April rolled over into May and May into early June. Seaward Plantation went about its routines of living: growing crops, tending livestock, fishing, firearms practice in stormy weather. No word came from Marcus or Bundit, but daily life continued to swirl around the holes that each had left on the island. The people of the island prepared for war, which still seemed very far off.
Once, two weeks after the day on which Bundit and Marcus disappeared, Appleby sailed back into Charleston for a meeting of the South Carolina Militia, accompanied by Troy and Hector. The two black men busied themselves procuring what goods they could find in town, but as they had to report back later, war and the hoarding that people do to prepare for war had seriously depleted stocks of supplies all over Charleston. Appleby meanwhile took himself to the meeting hall.
The meeting, as it happened, was rather anticlimactic. There were very few officers in attendance. The others were preparing their troops for the defense of forts around the harbor, or other sites such as Port Royal farther south--or they were preparing to march or take trains to join the Army of Northern Virginia that was being formed farther north under the command of General Robert E. Lee. The few officers who attended the meeting had local commands. Appleby was asked, really in just a pro forma way, about the defenses of Seaward. He stoutly asserted his readiness to fight, and claimed that he had seen no enemy activity nor any warships whatsoever--both true statements. The officers at the meeting were asked to report from time to time to local authorities, to the colonel in charge of harbor defenses, but it was announced that there would be no more regularly scheduled meetings of the militia. Appleby learned that a wider war was definitely gathering, but it seemed not to be centered on South Carolina at the moment.
Robert Ashley was at the meeting, resplendent in a naval dress uniform. At the end of the meeting the officers were invited by Robert to take a tour of the Charleston Harbor defenses, which Appleby joined. Robert seemed oddly formal, even careful, around Appleby during the whole meeting and tour, but Appleby put it down to his preoccupations with war planning. The officers walked in a group down to the harbor area where they went directly to the best gunship that the ragtag South Carolina naval forces could muster, the C.S.S. Saluda. It was a sidewheel steamer with but a single cannon mounted on a carousel on its forward deck, although that was a formidable 32-pounder with a long barrel. The steamer had housing for a small crew, a tall smokestack, a Confederate flag flying from its stern. But Appleby could tell that it was not new, and had been converted from whatever commercial use it served in its former life. It was clear that Charleston was counting on its shore batteries, and the now- occupied Fort Sumter, for its defense against attack from the sea. Any other naval forces the South could muster would go into protecting trade with England and the Continent that would help to pay for the war.
Commanding his small crew of uniformed sailors, none of whom Appleby recognized, Robert Ashley took the Saluda out into the harbor to tour the shore batteries, commenting on them as they went. Once the tour was over and the gunboat back at the pier, Appleby tried to engage Robert in conversation. He would not have minded an invitation to Robert's private vessel, the Swan, and hinted at such. But again, it was not forthcoming. Pleading the press of business, Robert politely declined.
Appleby returned to the Hesperus where he met Troy and Hector, back early from a foray for supplies that had been less than usually fruitful. They had, however, procured a ship's bell that Appleby intended to mount down at the pier so that it might be rung should visitors appear, hostile or friendly. The three pushed off into the harbor and set sail for Seaward. On the way they intercepted the mail boat. Appleby was surprised, and would continue to be so throughout the war, at the extent to which mail still managed to cross enemy lines, albeit now much more infrequently and with longer delays. And of course, he had no way of knowing whether letters might have gotten through at all. Today's haul of mail provided reassurance of Appleby's long and careful preparation for war, his cultivation of contacts in the North.... but no news of the missing Marcus or Bundit.
The second week of June was memorable, and it began with deceptive simplicity. Appleby was slowly awaking alone in his bed one morning, going over his plans for the day. He had taken the early watch the night before, and had arrived back at the house in the dead of night when Cassius came to relieve him. Enjoying the peaceful morning, he heard the door from the verandah open and slam downstairs, and the drumming of young feet on the stairs. There were soft steps and whisperings in the hallway, and then finally soft steps into his room. Appleby smiled at Frederick and Douglass, both recently turned nine years old, as they stood in his doorway peering in. The boys wore pants but no shirts.
Seeing that Appleby was awake, Frederick piped up: "Good morning, Papa Mark!" Douglass bounded over to the bed with a "Good morning!" himself. In an instant both boys were sitting on the bed next to Appleby. "Mama isn't feeling very well and she asked us to come find someone to give us a bath," said Douglass, "And you were the first one we found awake!" continued Frederick. "We put our clean clothes down in the bath room, these are just what we wore over here," he said, tugging at his trousers, "But we can take these off for a bath," added Douglass, pulling his pants and underwear off entirely and throwing them on the floor. Frederick followed suit and in an instant both chocolate brown nine year olds were kneeling on the bed by Appleby, their bodies slim tubes of muscle showing the beginning of development in chest, abdomen, arms, and legs... and with the African trait of firm, high, rounded bottoms. Small penises above little ballsacks dangled little more than an inch below their groins.
"Want to get up and bathe us, Papa Mark?" asked Frederick, whisking back the sheets and exposing Appleby's naked, muscular flesh. Both boys grew silent for a moment as they admired his tanned white body and its differences from the darker flesh that was more common on Seaward. Appleby, enjoying their youthful good spirits tremendously, smiled and put a hand on each boy's neck, rubbing them gently. He asked, "Why is your mother sick? Is it serious?"
"I don't think it's too bad, she's just throwing up," said Douglass, absent-mindedly. He was looking at Appleby's penis which lay between his legs, neither flaccid nor erect but in a pleasant morning state of fullness. Appleby saw that Frederick too was studying his organ as if it were some natural phenomenon newly descended from the moon. Their studies were interrupted by the sound of a door slamming downstairs again and the drumming of feet on the stairs. Their earlier pattern repeated itself, and soon footsteps came to Appleby's door. It was Wat, likewise recently turned nine, and also shirtless.
"Good morning, Papa Mark, hello Frederick, hello Douglass," he said. "Papa Mark, can you give me a bath? Mama isn't feeling well this morning and asked me to come over here and find a Papa who could help. She's throwing up!" he added, with glee. Appleby nodded agreement, thinking for a moment as to what the matter could be that both Portia and Helen were ill; an epidemic was the last thing that Seaward needed right now. His thoughts were interrupted by Wat, who upon seeing everyone's state of nakedness had decided to join the crowd. He pulled his trousers and underwear down, kicking them away, and jumped onto the bed. His skin was simply beautiful, a mix of gold and brown lightened by his quarter amount of European ancestry. Of a smaller frame than Frederick or Douglass, his body was nevertheless just as promising in its muscular development. His head of jet black loose curls contrasted beautifully with the twins' tight tufts and whorls. Wat snuggled up close by Frederick, and joined the boys in their surveillance of Appleby's naked flesh.
"Papa, do all boys wake up with their things hard?" asked Frederick. "I do," chimed in Douglass, while Wat nodded vigorously.
"It's a penis, not a thing, Frederick, and many boys and men do...although if they don't sometimes it doesn't necessarily mean it's a problem," Appleby remarked.
"We're all nine now, Papa," said Wat. "When will we start making.... semen, that's the word, right? I think maybe Marcus could make some already." There was a heartbeat of silence at the mention of Marcus's name, but the boys and man soon returned to the moment.
"It's different for everybody, boys," he said. "Marcus was a little young to be making real semen, if that's what he was doing, at eleven. Some boys start years later than that." Appleby was not the least bit embarrassed at this conversation, as what his own parents would have called "the facts of life" were quite openly known to all the youngsters of Seaward as soon as they could ask about them. He should not have been surprised at what naturally evolved from such a discussion among four naked males, then, for Frederick reached over to grasp Appleby's plump, reddish penis with his slim brown hand and haul it up for public inspection. In spite of himself, Appleby's organ sprang instantly to life, growing rapidly before their very eyes. The boys all said "ooooo" and giggled, looking excitedly at each other and at Appleby. Torn for a moment between pleasure and the natural moment on the one hand, and some Bostonian echoes of prudery on the other, Appleby hesitated for a moment, and then gave himself over to what was developing naturally.
"So you made Marcus with your semen, right? When you put that in Mama?" asked Wat, studying it seriously. Appleby gulped and nodded as Frederick's fist slowly, experimentally began to slide up and down his organ, which reddened and stiffened. "Me, too," whispered Douglass, who added his own thin brown hand underneath his brother's, sliding up and down the shaft together very slowly. "And Papa Bundit made me the same way!" said Wat gleefully, at which Appleby chuckled and again nodded. He was beginning to breathe more heavily.
"Mama says either Papa Pan or Papa Bacchus made Douglass and me, but it doesn't really matter since they're twins," said Frederick, a look of concentration on his beautiful young brown face, trumpet lips parted, as he and Douglass slowly increased the speed and pressure of their pumping. "Let me, too," said Wat, and stuck a golden brown hand in atop Frederick's hand. Three young hands now slid up and down Appleby's rigid cock as three slim, squirming young bodies twisted in together for a better view, draping themselves over Appleby's legs and belly.
"Are you going to make some sperm soon?" asked Wat.
"I expect so, with all of you doing that," said Appleby in a whisper. There was a moment of silence and then he felt the familiar turning inside of him as body and spirit gathered together. "Here it comes!" he said hoarsely and then pushed his hips up as his penis erupted in sprays of semen. Douglass, startled, pulled his hand away and rocked back on his heels, but Frederick and Wat, laughing, kept pumping intently. "Slow down, slow down!" said the white man urgently, and the boys instantly complied, slow long slides milking the last of Appleby's white spunk up out of his rod and down the side, coating two brown hands. "Alright, stop!" he said when it was over. All three boys were dotted with white, while Frederick's and Wat's hands were streaked with it. All three played with the semen, stirring and rubbing the fluid with their fingers. Brave again, Douglass dipped a little of it with his finger and brought it to his tongue, tasting it uncertainly...but that was more than the other two were willing to try.
"Was that nice, Papa?" asked Frederick.
"It was very nice, thank you boys. But now," said Appleby, rising up, "time to bathe all of you." All four of them, the boys still giggling and smearing themselves with the white ejaculate, made their way down to the bath room where they washed themselves in stages as Appleby kept the pump and the stove going. He had sent the boys on their way and was just drying himself off when Apple and Rain came in, leading Moss by the hand. They stared, frankly appraising the naked white man standing before them, but nobody felt any shame.
"Mama asked us to come over and bathe here," said Apple. "She's not feeling well," added Rain. Moss piped up, "She threw up!" Now seriously alarmed at the prospect of an epidemic of disease with news of Athena's indisposition, Appleby changed the water for the girls and, as they plunged naked into the tub, ran up the stairs to get dressed. Emerging a few minutes later, tearing at a roll for breakfast, he made his way first to Portia's cabin. He found Cass and Juno emerging from it, Juno muttering "Uh- huh! Uh-HUH!" and Cass with a gleam in her eye.
"Mama Cass! Mama Juno! What is the matter? Is everyone ill all over the island?"
The two matriarchs stopped and regarded Appleby sternly, with folded arms, then looked at each other, then back at their master, who wilted somewhat under the scrutiny.
"Throw a party for tonight, Master Mark," said Cass, "We'll give a full report then."
"Yes, go cook something for once, we have our hands full!" said Juno, adding cryptically, "Menfolk!" and the two marched off with a sense of purpose for Helen's cabin. Fearful of entering Portia's cabin, Appleby decided that following orders was the best plan for him. Finding Cassius and Priam on the path as he went to the kitchen, he told the news of the three illnesses and of Cass and Juno's strange "order."
"Well, I'll be," said Priam. "Women, I will never understand them. How can we have a party if these three are sick?" He shook his head with incomprehension.
"Papa Priam, if that's what Cass and Juno said to do, are you going to argue with them?" asked Cassius. Priam's eyes grew large and he shook his head, muttering something under his breath. Both he and Cassius turned from their plans to help Appleby. Not totally incompetent in the kitchen, but not as experienced as the women, the three men, aided by Pan, Bacchus, Troy, and Hector when he had rested from his watch, worked on preparing a feast all day. The children were entrusted with watching down by the pier, and they took their charge very seriously, Apple commandeering the pistol while Wat claimed control of the ship's bell.
Evening rolled around and Cass came by to check on preparations. She nodded her approval, then offered the opinion that the watch on the pier could be foregone for a couple of hours that evening. "But what of Athena, Helen, and Portia?" Appleby asked. "Yes, will they be better soon?" queried Cassius.
"Oh, it may take a while for it to all work itself out," said Cass sardonically, then turned on her heel and left. The men looked at one another, shrugged, and continued about their business.
As evening drew on, tables were set up in the hay barn and laden with the food the men had prepared. Burned sides of roasts were placed down on the platters, underdone vegetables were run back into the pan, and lumpy gravy was served forth with defiance. Wine, at least, was in abundance--it was hardly the least of stores that Appleby had made sure to hoard in the cellar of the main house. The group gathered, and at the last the three invalids were led out by Cass and Juno. The men all inquired after their health while the children looked on in mild worry.
"I hope you will recover soon," said Appleby.
"In about seven months or so," said Athena.
"So long?! Are you very ill? Are...." Appleby stopped short. At least he could do simple arithmetic even if it were hard to see what was right in front of his face. "No!" he cried. The other men's faces, one by one, were slowly lit by the rising sun of comprehension.
"But... but surely you're not ALL THREE pregnant!" said Appleby, in wonder. Athena, Helen, and Portia all nodded, barely suppressing smiles. The children whooped in glee at the prospects of new playmates, heedless of the implications of bringing forth new life during a perilous war, when the very survival of the island was at stake. The adults simply stood, looking at one another with expressions of wonder and mirth. On nobody's face was woe--but to have all three with child at once! It was unheard of.
"Well..." and Appleby seized a wine glass. "To the new mothers!"
"Thank you, but we will stick with water," said Portia. The men hurried to supply them with that, and glasses were raised all around. And then there were hugs of congratulations. And then..... then came the inevitable.
"Oh!" said Hector. "Who.... who are the fathers, do you suppose?" There was no sense of jealousy or possessiveness in anyone's heart, just natural curiosity.
"We have been discussing that," said Helen, "and it is very strange." Athena and Portia nodded. "I've been thinking back, and I think it most likely that it is.... Master Mark, or Bundit." Appleby searched his memory, did some quick addition of weeks, and nodded in agreement, a mixture of hope, joy, fear, and wonder roiling in his breast.
"I believe it must be Hector," said Portia, and Hector's dark skin darkened further with a tremendous blush even as he hung his head and grinned hugely, "or Bundit." Now everyone looked thoughtful indeed at the coincidence of two mentions of Bundit. Athena shook her head, smiling. She got right to the point. "Cassius or Bundit," she said, smiling. Cassius's jaw dropped, and then he smiled widely.
"You don't mean.... I had heard.... do you mean that on his second to last night here, Bundit impregnated all three of you!?" said Appleby. The women looked at one another and Helen. shrugged. She spoke: "It seems as if it is possible. It's hard to pinpoint exactly. Of course, for each of us there are other possibilities," she said, looking meaningfully at Appleby, who now took his turn to blush scarlet. "I suppose we will find out in, oh, seven months or a shade less."
The men became suddenly solicitous, offering the women the softest seats, fetching them the least botched delicacies from the table--especially the men named as candidates for biological fatherhood. The feast began with great joy and anticipation. Everyone felt as if the stakes in keeping Seaward, high as they had been, had just become higher. Bacchus, in fact, excused himself early to go take watch down at the pier, and equipped himself with a shotgun on the way to add to the pistol and ship's bell that were kept down at the shore. Priam said that he would come to relieve him in the night.
Appleby made a point of sitting next to Athena at one point during the evening. "Athena," he began, "Bundit... a possible father to all three babies.... what does this mean? Is this the universe playing a joke on us? Giving us a gift?"
She smiled and placed her hand on his. "I don't know, master. But I think the universe wants a balance, and when it takes away, it gives. We may get Bundit back, and as I've said, I think for sure that Marcus will come back. But in some sense, what is lost is returned to us. Things work like that, master," she said, smiling radiantly. But then she turned thoughtful. "Of course, it might also work that way, to create a balance.... if the universe were about to take from us as well." Appleby nodded, and turned those thoughts over in his heart.
The week that had begun so auspiciously moved on through the routines of everyday life, albeit everyday life in a state of heightened vigilance. Toward the end of the week, an event occurred that was ultimately to have huge implications for life--and death--on Seaward Plantation. The good people did not know it at the time, but it was in fact the coming of war to the island.
First Hector and then Cassius were keeping watch down at the pier that night. The day had been otherwise uneventful, full of hard work tending crops and livestock. The lifeboat on the eastern side of the island had been taken out for fishing, and brought back a reasonably good catch in its nets. Everyone except those on watch had retired for the night to rest from a day of good, hard labor.
Appleby slept by himself that night but was startled awake some time around two in the morning. Momentarily disoriented, he had a sensation that the air was buzzing with unfamiliar sounds, perhaps of restless spirits. As he rose to full consciousness he realized what it was: the ship's bell from the pier was ringing persistently. Appleby leaped from the bed to throw on clothes and shoes. Then the sound of a distant shotgun, from the direction of the pier, turned his blood to ice. Still tugging on his trousers, he ran to the two nearest doors on the second floor to knock loudly. But Hector and the twins were already dressing frantically. All four men ran from the house to the storage barn where the firearms were kept. There they found Troy and Priam arming themselves. Another shotgun blast rang out, louder now--was it because they were outside, or was an approaching enemy closer?
By the time each man had a carbine and a pistol, the entire community was roused. Children were told sternly to stay indoors while the women likewise armed themselves, fully determined to defend the island. Nevertheless, the children followed, and nobody had the heart to turn them back again. It was a determined but frightened group of warriors that ran across lawn and meadow to plunge through the line of trees and swarm out around and onto the pier. Cassius let the bell's rope go as he saw them coming and set his shotgun against the post. Cassius raised a spyglass to his eye. He took one more look west, toward land, and then handed the instrument to Appleby as he pointed out toward the waves.
Appleby scanned the water back and forth; it was a night with gathering clouds, so only intermittent, weak moonlight aided his search, but then he found it: a small craft, like a large rowboat, no mast or sail. There appeared to be a few people in it and they seemed to be rowing. Something light seemed to move back and forth just above the boat, but it was hard to tell. Appleby handed the glass to Priam who looked, then handed it to Troy.
"How long has it been there?" he asked Cassius.
"Just a few minutes, master, but I think it is coming this way."
"Anything else out there, any more like it?" he asked.
"Not that I can tell," said Cassius.
"Nor I," added Troy, and Priam agreed.
"Should we load the cannon?" Appleby asked. Priam hesitated.
"No, master, I don't think so. It is a small target for cannon anyway. But we should be ready with the small arms, and take cover on the Hesperus and Harmony. Perhaps the women could take up positions behind the stone walls, by the cannon, as a backup for us if.... if it comes to that," said Priam. It seemed like a wise course of action, and everybody took their places. The commotion of the last few minutes suddenly gave way to quiet waiting. The faint sounds of oars moving in their locks came from over the waves. It was still a little too far to hail anyone, so the people of Seaward watched and waited. Priam and Troy passed the spyglass back and forth between them, trying to make out the thing that was slowly, slowly coming toward them.
A few minutes passed and Priam whispered excitedly, "It's a white cloth.... that thing moving back and forth above them, a white cloth." A few more minutes passed. "A white... a white flag. I make out maybe three or four men, and it does seem to be a large rowboat." His whispers were now interrupted by a shout from across the water. "Don't shoot!" came the distant sound. "Friends!" If anything, the people of Seaward clutched their weapons even tighter at that, training the carbines on the target as well as they could in the dark; if they were to be attacked, they fully expected treachery.
More minutes passed and the sound of oars splashing and turning in their locks could be heard. "Don't shoot!" came once more. Troy had the spyglass to his eye. "Four men, definitely," he said. Another minute and suddenly he stiffened. "Wha...!" he exclaimed, adjusted the focus of the spyglass...and then handed it to Priam. "Second man from the stern," he whispered urgently. Priam looked intently and then he, too, jerked with surprise. He turned to hand the glass to Troy, who nodded after a moment, smiling. Then Priam looked at Appleby. "Bundit," he said.
Military training and decorum gave way for a moment. Appleby came leaping over to seize the glass again and confirm the fact for himself at the same time that Portia, who had heard the name clearly despite her position back behind a stone wall next to a cannon, came running around the side of the wall toward the pier. "By Jove, I think it's true!" said Appleby in astonishment. He leaped onto the cabin roof of the Hesperus and shouted out. "Mark Appleby here. Who is there?" And from across the water came a familiar voice that could only just now be heard: "Bundit!"
"Lower your weapons, everybody, but keep them ready!" said Appleby, unable to believe his eyes and ears. Portia was next to him, still armed but clutching Appleby's arm with her free hand. The next few minutes crept by with agonizing slowness, but closer and closer came the boat in the dark. "Someone light a torch," said Priam, and Pan produced one in a flash, securing it to the far end of the pier as high as he could. Its light spread a weak circle out over the waters as the sound of the boat came closer and closer. The spyglass to his eye, Appleby gasped. "Not only Bundit, but..... I know these others!" he said, "although I don't believe any of the rest of you do."
"Do you see Marcus!" said Portia, urgently.
"No, I do not." Appleby could feel her sink a bit, but she rallied. It was a marvelous thing if Bundit were returning, and he might have news of their son. Appleby continued scanning the sea near and far and could see nothing but the approaching boat. "Do you see anything else?" he asked, handing the glass to Priam. Priam scanned the area for a long minute, then shook his head. Appleby then called for more torches, feeling more confident that it was not some sort of ruse or ambush. In a moment the pier was ablaze with light, and in only a few more minutes the boat came within the circle of light on the waters. Then restraint gave way and people began hailing Bundit, who waved the white flag again and called back. Soon the boat bumped against the far end of the pier. Willing hands crowded together to pull Bundit out of the boat, to embrace him and then move him back down the pier. There were shouts and tears all along the pier as he made his way down, and finally came to Appleby and Portia.
First they fell on him, embracing him, and then Portia could not restrain herself: "Marcus, Bundit, do you know...." but words failed her. Bundit looked at her in confusion. "Marcus?" he looked around the crowd. "What do you mean? Where is he?" Portia covered her face and stifled a sob; she had hoped from time to time over the last months that her son was safe because he was with Bundit, and then she had hoped in the last few minutes that he was near at hand. Both hopes now dashed, she struggled to be strong. Appleby spoke in a hushed voice: "He stowed away on the Hesperus the day we took you to Charleston. He left us a note saying he intended to follow you. He has been gone all this time. We had hoped....." Bundit looked appalled and covered his mouth with his hand. He shook his head vigorously.
Appleby turned to the three slaves who had come with Bundit, now nearing him as they came up behind on the pier. "My friends, everyone!" he shouted, "these are people from the Ashley Plantation. Samuel, Hammond, and Aaron." He pointed out each of his old friends to the people around, and they greeted the three warmly. Turning to Bundit he continued, loudly enough so all could hear, "I suppose you have been at Ashley Plantation, then, Bundit?"
"Yes," said Bundit, and it was then that a drawn, worried look could be glimpsed on his face. "Yes, in slavery," he said. The crowd gasped and murmured, and Appleby blanched dead white for a moment as his heart skipped a beat. When he recovered, he noticed that his own hands were closed in tight fists and that a fury was building in him like steam in a kettle. "And you have seen no sign of Marcus there?" Bundit shook his head. Turning to the three newcomers he said, "Did your master have anywhere at Ashley a young boy of eleven, light-skinned, curly brown hair?" The three shook their heads, looking toward each other for confirmation.
"I can see that there is much news here, much to learn. I suggest we all gather in the hay barn; can someone run ahead to fetch food and drink for these four?" Pan and Bacchus shouted yes and were off like a flash. "Cassius, I am sorry, we will give you all the news later, but someone needs to stay on watch here. Especially now." Cassius nodded vigorously and waved his weapon. "I will stay with Papa Cassius, too," said Rain, stepping forward to stand by her father. Hector, close by, smiled and handed her his carbine and a leather bag of linen cartridges. She took it confidently; it was clear that, young as she was, she meant to use it if need be, and that she knew how to do so. "Alright," said Appleby, and the whole group began to move back toward the buildings as Cassius and Rain began extinguishing the torches at the pier and, now extra vigilant, turned their attention again to the sea.
The group made their way by torchlight back up across the meadow and lawn to the hay barn. Pan and Bacchus had brought bread, fruit, vegetables, and cold meats from the kitchen. Everyone joined in to welcome the arrivals, who ate ravenously. A few of the Seaward people joined in. Nobody pestered the newcomers to learn their stories until they were finished.
Finally, Bundit pushed his plate back and looked wearily at Appleby, who sat next to him. "It is good to be back," he said, and then simply burst into tears. Appleby enfolded him in his arms, rocking him gently until he was able to speak again. He whispered to Bundit, "Tell us what you want to tell us, leave the rest until you feel able." Bundit nodded, and took a few minutes to compose himself. Then he sat up and looked around at the group. He began:
"I walked down the harbor looking for large ships or launches from the larger ships that were anchored in the harbor. The first pier did not look promising so I stepped quickly to the next pier, and there I saw the Ashley vessel, the Swan, that had just tied up at the pier. Robert Ashley," and here a spasm of anger flashed over his face at the mere mention of the name. "Robert was just stepping off the boat and he saw me. He greeted me; we had met before, of course, at the militia exercises. He asked me what I was up to, and I told him. He was full of good humor, but of course I should have seen through it. He immediately invited me on board and offered me a drink to speed me on my way. I thought it could do no harm, so I went."
"And no sign of Marcus all this time?" asked Appleby.
"No, no sign.... but it all happened very quickly. You know, I walked with you to the end of the pier, and then it was but a short walk to two piers away. Marcus may have emerged by then but saw it was not safe yet to show himself. Once I was onto the Swan, all was lost. Either he would not have seen me, or did see me but did not feel--thank God!-- that he could follow me. At any rate, I went on board the Swan. Robert invited me into the cabin. He had three servants with him, but he asked them to remain on the deck. I did not recognize any of them. There in the cabin he turned his back to me and prepared two glasses of wine. He drank one, I drank the other. Even before I put the glass down I knew something was wrong, I felt dizzy, and then very quickly everything went black.
"When I woke up, I was tied up in the cabin of the Swan and I could tell we were under way. Robert came up to me, with such a hunger in his eyes! I have never seen such raw desire in a person. He told me we were on our way to my new home and that I would find it a good life, a better life than Seaward. I said nothing. He smiled and went back on deck.
"I will spare you many of the details. When we landed I was led, still bound, to a building, a sort of barn." Appleby nodded; he knew it well, it was Robert's play pen for excesses of all sorts. "There I was untied but kept locked in a small room with a bed. I was given food and drink. Robert came to see me there. He was alone, and had himself locked into the room with me, but he had servants outside the door. He did not try to force himself on me... at first. He pulled me to him, sliding his arms around me, under my shirt, down the back of my trousers. He and I.... we, Master Mark... have had such times together, you know." Appleby nodded. "But this was completely different. I could not respond at all, and he knew it. That he had kidnapped me, was trying to force me into slavery.... I could not stand the thought. I knew if I fought back it would go very badly for me, but I could not bring myself to feel anything. He sensed it, and stopped trying, that time at least.
"For several weeks after that, one scene after another was staged in that barn. I was led in, bound but by soft, silken cloths, stripped naked and made to watch. Huge, powerful black men grappled naked together.... or were made to have sex with beautiful young women..... or with younger men and boys. Or boys with boys, or women with women, his imagination seemed to know no bounds.
"Once, a powerful, tall black man with a huge penis was led into the room. His skin was heavily oiled, slick as butter and shining in the lamplight. Four boys of about thirteen, also very dark and completely covered in oil, were let into the room as well. I was tied to a chair set close by the bed, while Robert sat on a chair on the other side. Robert announced 'the game': the man was to catch each boy and have sex with him in a two hour period. If he succeeded, he would win one hundred dollars. Any boy who escaped during the two hours would win one hundred dollars. Think what one hundred dollars would mean to a slave...." Bundit trailed off, looking into the middle distance. Then he returned to his subject.
"The man ended up catching all four of them. They writhed and squirmed in his grasp as he took them to the bed, and they cried out as he penetrated them, using his massive weight to hold them down on the bed. I had to look away but... it was shameful, but my own member would rise during those times. But as soon as Robert came around the bed toward me, it would wilt. I could not be... that way with him any longer."
"In the last few weeks, Robert forced himself on me a couple of times, but of course that made me even more unable to be as he wanted me to be. A few times he whipped me, with a leather paddle that would sting like fire but not cut the skin. In the last week, he forced my three friends here.... Samuel, Aaron, and Hammond, to do the same with me, but they merely simulated it as much as they could, and when they could not help it they were very gentle and breathed apologies in my ear."
At that point Hammond spoke up. "We wuz sorry, masta, we knew it wuz wrong. Masta Robert, he made us. He'd a'wupped us. He gettin' stranger an' stranger, masta! His wife, she afraid, too. All dem servants, t'ings he do.... we couldn' stan' it no mo' masta, had to get out. We heard a war had come. Aaron here, he said you'd take us." Aaron nodded vigorously, looking hard at Appleby for confirmation. Appleby stretched out his hand to take Aaron's, smiling a welcome and nodding.
"Yesterday during the day, Samuel slipped into the barn and said we were escaping," said Bundit. He left a side door to the barn unlocked, and as soon as it was dark I made my escape, down to the river. Robert was engaged in some other fantasy in a room in the main house, drunk as a lord and sunk in debauchery, so it was easy to make our escape. We took the big rowboat they had there and made our way in the dark. My friends picked that night because it was so dark. I think I have never been so frightened slipping out through the harbor, trying to avoid other vessels, rowing as quietly and as quickly as we could past the guns on shore and in the fort. You know the rest. No alarm was raised, and I think nobody has any idea where we went."
"Did any of you tell anybody else of your plans?" asked Appleby, urgently.
"I.... I asked Rodney if he wanted to come, but he said no, he got a nice woman there," said Aaron. "But he won' tell nobody, and nobody will think that he knows," he added.
Appleby was worried. "I hope you are right. People can be forced to talk, but perhaps this will go undetected." The party was quiet for a while, thinking about events. Appleby spoke again.
"Well, my Seaward friends, what do you think? It seems as if we have three new additions to our family. Is this alright with you?" Everyone agreed, although it would strain the resources of Seaward. But if it came to that, it would also add to their little army. Appleby smiled and chuckled.
"Bundit has returned and three more added. Oh, but Bundit..... perhaps I should say six more." The Siamese man looked surprised. Appleby looked at the women. Helen spoke up. "Bundit.... Portia, Athena, and I are all with child." Bundit's face broke into a pleased smile. So she continued, "...and you might be the father in each case. You might not, but it is possible." A look of astonishment then came over Bundit's beautiful features as he struggled to understand the implications.
Appleby broke into the moment. "Alright, I think we need to move the rowboat to the east side of the island while it is still dark. Pan, Bacchus, will you do that? Haul it well up onto the beach and cover it with branches. My friends," he said, addressing Samuel, Aaron, and Hammond, "let us find room for you in the main house." The three looked flatly astonished; the idea of housing slaves in the master's quarters was unheard of. "Tomorrow we will begin teaching you about Seaward. You will learn to read and write and to speak correctly. Seaward... Seaward is not Ashley Plantation," he said, in response to their gaping looks of astonishment. "No," others murmured, many of them smiling, "No, it is not."
"Tonight has brought us many strange events and strange news. I think.... I am sure we have not heard the last of this matter. We will begin to plan and prepare anew tomorrow. For tonight, let's all get what rest we can." Everyone agreed, and dispersed in the night to their beds, to dream of what the morning might bring.