A Simple Deception

XXI

"Sometimes even to live is an act of courage." Lucius Annaeus Seneca

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XXI.

The trading of slaves might have been illegal in England, but it was perfectly legal wherever Alex was now. He didn't know what country he was in, but he could see the Union Jack flag flying from several of the vessels moored in the harbour as he, Belle, and the other captives were marched off of the ship in and amongst the other merchandise.

After so long in the dark, the sun was almost blinding him, and the feeling of walking was strange, his legs feeling like a weak, wobbly faun's.

He was in the Caribbean. He could tell that much. He knew the water, the landscape of the islands well enough. Only this particular island was a mystery. The sun beat down on his skin, and after so long away, he was unused to the heat. He could already feel sweat beading across his brow and running down the back of his neck, not aided by the hammering of his heart in his chest as he watched on ahead for their destination.

Belle stumbled along in front of him, walking barefoot along the timber pier, seemingly as unsteady on her feet as he was. The wind off the ocean blew the thin skirt of her dress against her legs, showing just how truly narrow she was. Alex might have thought that she had gained weight during their journey but there was nothing of her. She was as slight as a woman could be. A stronger gust of wind would surely take her away. And in that moment, Alex knew that would be a better fate.

The chains around their ankles had been removed to allow them to walk, but the horrid sound of the metal clinking around his wrists unnerved him. They were marched into town, Alex and Belle bringing up the rear of the small group. The port town featured a main square that was indeed busy, filled with sailors, businessmen, masters. The vendors in the square boasted all sorts of goods, and Alex noted that their displays were not written in French. Were they, he still would not have been able to read them, but he had come to recognise French lettering during his life in Saint-Domingue. Was it English? Spanish? Dutch? He couldn't know.

Outside one of the shop fronts was a hitching post of sorts, one which appeared to be for horses. Though Alex quickly realised that it would not be horses tethered to this piece of timber. One by one, they were secured to the post by the sailors who had carted them here. Tethered like animals.

The sign on the shop they were before read: AUCTION & NEGRO SALES

Alex couldn't know what it said, but he did not have to be literate to infer. No sooner had they been fixed to the post, the people in the square began to gather, to gawk ... to appraise. It was then that Alex caught the eye of Belle.

Her eyes seemed nearly yellow in the direct sunlight, but that was not what was startling about them. It was the pure terror he could see as she silently pleaded with him. But she wasn't pleading to be saved.

Belle had told him during their very first conversation that what she feared most was worse than death. She would rather die. Her golden eyes wished for death, seeing it as her only way to salvation.

And perhaps she was right. Alex had promised himself that he would protect her. But he now doubted his ability to keep that promise. He could not even protect himself. He did not feel brave. He felt as small and as weak as the six-year-old boy who had been lashed within an inch of his life. Alex was powerless to stop what was coming, and he was too cowardly to say the words.

"If there is a God, he will kill me," whispered Belle.

Alex's tongue felt as though it was swollen in his mouth as his stomach seized. He wanted to tell her that if there was a God, he would save Belle. But it was a lie. God had no power over what would happen to them now. Man did. And man was an evil species, afflicted by greed like no other.