trusting.
Her choices were in truth, each a gamble.
-Be alone until she was possibly captured by those who would kill her.
-Be alone until captured by a stranger to become a fancy and slave too.
-Or be… Masta’ Broc's?
Better the devil you know. There – decision made.
Simply put, being close to him, hearing him talk, seeing the way he sometimes looked at her - gave her really good feelings she had been trying to ignore. Cora had not raised any of her daughters to be fools. Fact was, her mother had raised her to be a fancy... but taught her to survive if that didn't work out.
Survival - in this land, meant making the right decisions. While all had been fine up to now, it was time to switch tactics - she needed to give the other side of the coin a try. That side entailed her giving in to being a fancy. It entailed giving herself over into someone else's hands to survive. If ever there was a time to concede – this was it – after all, she could end up a whole lot worse, than with Masta' Broc.
It took a while – mainly because she had been riding so slowly, thinking. Flower finally rode into what appeared to be their camp for the night. It had been easy to find from the glow of the fire he’d started in the depth of the forest. She quietly dismounted from Flower, placed the reigns around the saddle horn and just let her go.
As if she already understood her place, she walked over to where Nik-Nik stood quiet and still – there – Flower snorted a bit, and then she too became quiet and still.
Broc glanced at Flower and then up at Asiza, “I’ll brush her down, remove the saddle so she can rest.”
Asiza stood just within the glow of the campfire, she should have done that, but she didn’t feel like it. Besides – she wanted to see what he would do – his words told her.
Broc was feeding the fire with more twigs and limbs, placing bigger ones as the heat grew in intensity. It took him a few more minutes before he spoke to her again.
Looking up at her and then up at a tree where his things lay at the base, he informed her, “You’ll be sleeping up there tonight. I’m thinking that’s a good tree for you. What you think?” He asked.
She walked by him and the fire looking the tree over, and turning back to him, shrugged, “Good as any.”
He nodded his head, “That was my thinkin’.”
“How I know you ain’t tryin’ t’trick me, sayin’ you my new masta’ – sayin’ you my husband too?”
He knelt with one knee to the ground, he leaned on the raised one, once more nodding his head, “Come sit here, close by the fire, I'ah show you. Come on… right here, it’s warm, nice.”
She went, sat down, crossing her legs – it was warm.
He moved away to his saddle and then came back with papers in hand. Kneeling close to her and close to the fire, he showed her.
“This one here…” he stopped and looked at her, “… you can’nah read, but you need to see'em.”
She leaned forward to look them over anyway.
“This one here, say you belong to me – says I took possession of you, I pay two-hundred fifty in gold for you, a fancy-...”
“Did ya’?” She asked wondering.
“Yes, I did…” But he didn’t explain it was the gold he would have been paid had he done what he’d been hired to do. He continued on, “…this one here say, just in case – you belong to me, and I paid top gold for a boy name Asa. That’s you too – just in case.”
“Asa?”
“Closest to Asiza I could think of. You hear that name come out my mouth, you answer.” He ordered, “We can’nah afford no slip ups.”
He folded those away and brought out another piece of paper.
“This here says, that you are my wife. Joined together by Rev. Hardy, witnessed by his wife and daughter, Anna. Married to me and I to you before the Lord God Almighty.”
He gave a terse nod, as if that settled it all, folding it back up, “Proof – right there. Know you can’nh read it, but it says what
Her choices were in truth, each a gamble.
-Be alone until she was possibly captured by those who would kill her.
-Be alone until captured by a stranger to become a fancy and slave too.
-Or be… Masta’ Broc's?
Better the devil you know. There – decision made.
Simply put, being close to him, hearing him talk, seeing the way he sometimes looked at her - gave her really good feelings she had been trying to ignore. Cora had not raised any of her daughters to be fools. Fact was, her mother had raised her to be a fancy... but taught her to survive if that didn't work out.
Survival - in this land, meant making the right decisions. While all had been fine up to now, it was time to switch tactics - she needed to give the other side of the coin a try. That side entailed her giving in to being a fancy. It entailed giving herself over into someone else's hands to survive. If ever there was a time to concede – this was it – after all, she could end up a whole lot worse, than with Masta' Broc.
It took a while – mainly because she had been riding so slowly, thinking. Flower finally rode into what appeared to be their camp for the night. It had been easy to find from the glow of the fire he’d started in the depth of the forest. She quietly dismounted from Flower, placed the reigns around the saddle horn and just let her go.
As if she already understood her place, she walked over to where Nik-Nik stood quiet and still – there – Flower snorted a bit, and then she too became quiet and still.
Broc glanced at Flower and then up at Asiza, “I’ll brush her down, remove the saddle so she can rest.”
Asiza stood just within the glow of the campfire, she should have done that, but she didn’t feel like it. Besides – she wanted to see what he would do – his words told her.
Broc was feeding the fire with more twigs and limbs, placing bigger ones as the heat grew in intensity. It took him a few more minutes before he spoke to her again.
Looking up at her and then up at a tree where his things lay at the base, he informed her, “You’ll be sleeping up there tonight. I’m thinking that’s a good tree for you. What you think?” He asked.
She walked by him and the fire looking the tree over, and turning back to him, shrugged, “Good as any.”
He nodded his head, “That was my thinkin’.”
“How I know you ain’t tryin’ t’trick me, sayin’ you my new masta’ – sayin’ you my husband too?”
He knelt with one knee to the ground, he leaned on the raised one, once more nodding his head, “Come sit here, close by the fire, I'ah show you. Come on… right here, it’s warm, nice.”
She went, sat down, crossing her legs – it was warm.
He moved away to his saddle and then came back with papers in hand. Kneeling close to her and close to the fire, he showed her.
“This one here…” he stopped and looked at her, “… you can’nah read, but you need to see'em.”
She leaned forward to look them over anyway.
“This one here, say you belong to me – says I took possession of you, I pay two-hundred fifty in gold for you, a fancy-...”
“Did ya’?” She asked wondering.
“Yes, I did…” But he didn’t explain it was the gold he would have been paid had he done what he’d been hired to do. He continued on, “…this one here say, just in case – you belong to me, and I paid top gold for a boy name Asa. That’s you too – just in case.”
“Asa?”
“Closest to Asiza I could think of. You hear that name come out my mouth, you answer.” He ordered, “We can’nah afford no slip ups.”
He folded those away and brought out another piece of paper.
“This here says, that you are my wife. Joined together by Rev. Hardy, witnessed by his wife and daughter, Anna. Married to me and I to you before the Lord God Almighty.”
He gave a terse nod, as if that settled it all, folding it back up, “Proof – right there. Know you can’nh read it, but it says what
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