forward, his face puzzled. He remained behind the pile of logs as he
hunkered down, still holding his half-pike.
"That's my name, Yor Worship. But Master Briggs . . ."
"Farrell, here's the indenture contract we drew up for your transfer."
Winston held out the first paper from the sheaf. "I've marked it paid
and had it stamped. Come and get it and you're free to go."
"What's this, Yor Worship?" He gingerly reached up for the paper and
stared at it in the torchlight, uncomprehending. "I heard you was like
to be buying out my contract. By my reckoning there's two more year
left on it."
"I did just buy it. It's there in your hand. You're a free man."
Farrell sat staring at the paper, examining the stamped wax seal and
attempting to decipher the writing. A sudden silence enveloped the
crowd, punctuated by another round of musket fire from the Assembly
Room. After it died away, Winston continued, "Now Farrell, if you'd
care to be part of an expedition of mine that'll be leaving Barbados in
a few days' time, that's your privilege. Starting tonight, your pay'll
be five shillings a week."
"Beggin' Yor Worship's pardon, I reckon I'm not understandin' what
you've said. You've bought this contract? An' you've already marked it
paid?"
"With those sight bills." He pointed to the packet on the ground beside
Briggs.
Farrell glanced at the leather bundle skeptically. Then he looked back
at Winston. "An' now you're sayin' I'm free?"
"It's stamped on that contract. Have somebody read it if you care to."
"An' I can serve Yor Worship for wage if I like?" His voice began to
rise.
"Five shillings a week for now. Maybe more later, if you . . ."
"Holy Mother Mary an' all the Saints! _I'm free_!" He crumpled the
paper into his pocket, then leaped up as he flung his straw hat into
the air. "Free! I ne'er thought I'd stay breathin' long enough to hear
the word." He glanced quickly at the Assembly Room, then dismissed the
danger as he began to dance beside the logs.
"_At the dirty end o' Dirty Lane_,
_Liv'd a dirty cobbler, Dick Maclane ..."
_"That man still belongs to me." Briggs half cocked his musket as he
rose.
Farrell whirled and brandished his half-pike at the planter. "You can
fry in hell, you pox-rotted bastard. I've lived on your corn mush an'
water for three years, till I'm scarce able to stand. An' sweated sunup
to sundown in your blazin' fields, hoein' your damn'd tobacco, and now
your God-cursed cane. With not a farthing o' me own to show for it, or
a change o' breeches. But His Worship says he's paid me out. An' his
paper says I'm free. That means free as you are, by God. I'll be
puttin' this pike in your belly--by God I will--or any man here, who
says another word against His Worship. I'll serve him as long as I'm
standin', or pray God to strike me dead." He gave another whoop. "Good
Jesus, who's got a thirst! I'm free!"
"Jim Carroll." Winston's voice continued mechanically, sounding above
the din that swept through the indentures.
"Present an' most humbly at Yor Worship's service." A second man
elbowed his way forward through the cluster of Briggs' indentures,
shoving several others out of his path.
"Here's your contract, Carroll. It's been stamped paid and you're free
to go. Or you can serve under me if you choose. You've heard the
terms."
"I'd serve you for a ha'penny a year, Yor Worship." He seized the paper
and gave a Gaelic cheer, a tear lining down one cheek. "I've naught to
show for four years in the fields but aches an' an empty belly. I'll
die right here under your command before I'd serve another minute under
that whoreson."
"God damn you, Winston." Briggs full-cocked his musket with an ominous
click. "If you think I'll . . ."
Carroll whirled and thrust his pike into Briggs' face. "It's free I am,
by God. An' it's me you'll be killin' before you harm a hair o' His
Worship, if I don't gut you first."
Briggs backed away from the pike, still clutching his musket. The other
members of the Council had formed a circle and cocked their guns.
"You don't own these damned indentures yet," Nicholas Whittington
shouted. "We've not agreed to a transfer now."
"You've got your sight drafts. Those were the terms. If you want these
men to stay, tell it to them." He checked the sheaf of papers and
yelled out the next name: "Tom Darcy." As a haggard man in a shabby
straw hat pushed forward, Winston turned back to the huddle that was
the Council. "You're welcome to offer them a wage and see if they'd
want to stay on. Since their contracts are all stamped paid, I don't
have any say in it anymore."
"Well, I have a say in it, sir." Whittington lifted his musket. "I plan
to have an end to this knavery right now, before it gets out of hand.
One more word from you, and it'll be your . . ."
Winston looked up and yelled to the crowd of indentures. "I gather
you've heard who's on the list. If those men'll come up, you can have
your papers. Your contracts are paid, and you're free to go. Any man
who chooses to serve under me can join me here now."
Whittington was knocked sprawling by the surge of the crowd, as straw
hats were flung into the air. A milling mob of indentures waving half-
pikes pressed forward.
Papers from the sheaf in Winston's hand were passed eagerly through the
ranks. The Council and the officers of their militia had drawn together
for protection, still grasping their muskets.
In the confusion no one noticed the shaft of light from the doorway of
the Assembly Room that cut across the open space separating it from the
barricade. One by one the members of the Assembly gingerly emerged to
watch. Leading them was Anthony Walrond, wearing a brocade doublet and
holding a long flintlock pistol, puzzlement in his face.
Briggs finally saw them and whirled to cover the Assemblymen with his
musket. "We say deliver up Bedford or there'll be hell to pay, I swear
it!"
"Put down that musket, you whoreson." Farrell gave a yell and threw
himself across the barrel of the gun, seizing the muzzle and shoving it
in to the dirt. There was a loud report as it discharged, exploding at
the breech and spewing burning powder into the night.
"Christ Almighty." Walrond moved out into the night and several men
from the Assembly trailed after him, dressed in plain doublets and
carrying pistols. "What the devil's this about?"
"Nothing that concerns you." Winston dropped a hand to one of the guns
in his belt. "I'd advise you all to go back inside till I'm finished."
"We were just concluding a meeting of the Assembly, sir." Walrond
examined Winston icily, then glanced toward the men of the Council.
"When these rogues tried to commandeer the room, claiming they'd come
to seize the governor, to 'protect' him. I take it you're part of this
conspiracy."
"I'm here to protect my interests. Which gives me as much right as you
have to be here. I don't recall that you're elected to this body."
"I'm here tonight in an advisory capacity, Captain, not that it's any
of your concern." Walrond glanced back at the others, all warily
holding pistols. "To offer my views regarding the situation in
England." As he spoke Dalby Bedford emerged from the crowd. Walking
behind him was Katherine.
Winston turned to watch, thinking she was even more beautiful than he
had realized before. Her face was radiant, self-assured as she moved
through the dim torchlight in a glistening skirt and full sleeves. She
smiled and pushed toward him.
"Captain Winston, are you to be thanked for all this confusion?"
"Only a part of it, Miss Bedford. I merely stopped by to
enquire about my indentures, since I got the idea some of your
Assemblymen were shooting at them."
Anthony Walrond stared at Katherine. "May I take it you know this man?
It does you no credit, madam, I warrant you." Then he turned and moved
down the path, directly toward Briggs and the members of the Council.
"And I can tell all of you this night is far from finished. There'll be
an accounting here, sirs, you may depend on it. Laws have been
violated."
"You, sir, should know that best of all." Briggs stepped forward and
dropped his hand to the pistol still in his belt. "Since you and this
pack of royalist agitators that calls itself an Assembly would
unlawfully steer this island to ruin. The Council of Barbados holds
that this body deserves to be dissolved forthwith, and new elections
held, to represent the interests of the island against those who'd lead
us into a fool's war with the Commonwealth of England."
"You, sir, speak now in the very same voice as the rebels there. I
presume you'd have this island bow to the criminals in Parliament
who're now threatening to behead our lawful king."
"Gentlemen, please." Dalby Bedford moved between them and raised his
hand. "I won't stand for this wrangling. We all have to try to settle
our differences like Englishmen. I, for one, would have no objection to
inviting the Council to sit with us in the Assembly, have a joint
session, and try to reason out what's the wisest course now."
"I see no reason this body need share a table with a crowd of rebels
who'll not bend a knee to the rightful sovereign of England." Walrond
turned back to the members of the Assembly. "I say you should this very
night draw up a loyalty oath for Barbados. Any man who refuses to swear
fealty to His Majesty should be deported back to England, to join the
traitors who would unlawfully destroy the monarchy."
"No!" Katherine abruptly pushed in front of him. "This island stayed
neutral all through the Civil War. We never took a part, either for
king or Parliament. Why should we take sides now, with the war over and
finished?"
Walrond looked down at her, startled. "Because the time has come to
stand and be counted, Katherine. Why do you suppose? The rebels may
have seized England for now, but that's no reason we in the Americas
have to turn our back on the king."
"But there's another choice." She drew a deep breath. Winston saw
determination in her eyes as she turned to face the men of the
Assembly. "Think about it. We never belonged to England; we belonged to
the Crown. But the monarchy's been abolished and the king's patents
invalidated. I say we should join with the other English settlements
and declare the Americas a new nation. Barbados should lead the way and
declare our own independence."
"That's the damnedest idea I've ever heard." Briggs moved forward,
shaking away the indentures who still crowded around him menacingly.
"If we did that, there'd be war for sure. We've got to stay English, or
Cromwell'll send the army to burn us out." He turned to Walrond. "Rebel
or no, Cromwell represents the might of England. We'd be fools to try
to stand against him. Either for king or for some fool dream of
independence." He looked back at Katherine. "Where'd you get such an
idea, girl? It'd be the end of our hopes for prosperity if we tried
going to war with England. There'd be no room to negotiate."
"You, sir, have no say in this. You're apt to be on trial for treason
before the week's out." Walrond waved his pistol at Briggs, then turned
back to Katherine. "What are you talking about? England is beholden to
her king, madam, much the way, I might remind you, a wife is to her
husband. Or don't you yet understand that? It's our place to revere and
serve the monarchy."
"As far as I'm concerned, the king's only a man. And so's a husband,
sir."
"A wife takes an oath in marriage, madam, to obey her husband. You'd
best remember that." He turned and motioned the members of the Assembly
to gather around him as he stepped over to a large log and mounted it.
"On the subject of obedience, I say again an oath of loyalty to His
Majesty King Charles should be voted in the Barbados Assembly this very
morning. We need to know where this island stands." He stared back at
Dalby Bedford. "Much as a husband would do well to know what he can
expect when he takes a wife."
"You've got no authority to call a vote by the Assembly," Briggs
sputtered. "You're not elected to it." He looked at Walrond, then at
Bedford. "This, by God, was the very thing we came here tonight to head
off."
"You, sir, have no authority to interfere in the lawful processes of
this body." Walrond turned back to the Assembly members, now huddled in
conference.
Winston looked at Katherine and found himself admiring her idealism--
and her brass, openly defying the man she was supposed to marry. She
wanted independence for the Americas, he now realized, while all
Anthony Walrond wanted was to turn Barbados into a government in exile
for the king, maybe to someday restore his fortune in England. She was
an independent woman herself too, make no mistaking. Sir Anthony
Walrond was going to have himself a handful in the future, with the
Commonwealth and with her.
Come to think of it, though, independence wasn't all that bad an idea.
Why the hell not? Damned to England.
"I think there've been enough high-handed attempts to take over this
island for one night." He moved to confront Walrond.
"You have your brass, Captain, to even show your face here." He
inspected Winston with his good eye. "When you pillaged a ship of mine
off Nevis Island, broadcloth and muskets, no more than two years past."
"Now that you've brought it up, what I did was save the lives of some
fifty men who were about to drown for want of a seaworthy longboat.
Since you saved so much money on equipage, I figured you could afford
to compensate me for my pains."
"It was theft, sir, by any law."
"Then the law be hanged."
"Hardly a surprising sentiment, coming from you." Walrond shifted his
pistol toward Winston's direction. "You should be on Tortuga, with the
other rogues of your own stripe, rather than here on Barbados amongst
honest men. Your profession, Captain, has trained you best for the end
of a rope."
"What's yours trained you for?" He stood unmoving. "Get yourself
elected to the Assembly, then make your speeches. I'm tired of hearing
about your king. In truth, I never had a very high opinion of him
myself."
"Back off, sirrah. I warn you now." Walrond pointed his long pistol.
"You're speaking your impertinences to an officer of the king's army.
I've dealt with a few thieves and smugglers in years past, and I just
may decide to mete out some more long-overdue justice here and now."
Dalby Bedford cleared his throat and stepped between them. "Gentlemen,
I think there's been more heat here tonight than need be, all around.
It could be well if we cooled off a day or so. I trust the Assembly
would second my motion for adjournment of this session, till we've had
time to reflect on what's the best course for us. This is scarcely a
light matter. We could be heading into war with England."
"A prospect that does not deter certain of us from acting on principle,
sir." Walrond's voice welled up again. "I demand this Assembly take a
vote right now on . . ."
"You'll vote on nothing, by God," Briggs yelled, then drew his own
pistol. Suddenly a fistfight erupted between two members of the
Assembly, one for and the other opposing the monarchy. Then others
joined in. In the excitement, several pistols were discharged in the
fray.
Good God, Winston thought, Barbados' famous Assembly has been reduced
to this. He noticed absently that the first gray coloring of dawn was
already beginning to appear in the east. It'd been a long night.
What'll happen when day finally comes and news of all this reaches the
rest of the island? Where will it end. . .
"Belay there! Cool down your ordnance!" Above the shouts and bedlam, a
voice sounded from the direction of the shore.