The Cry of Liberty

Chapter Two: Livestock

The last day in the Nigerian port was nothing like she had imagined it would be. Sasha spent the day in the town as she had the past few days but just as she was scouting a new place for dinner, Roland informed her she would be taking her dinner on the ship. She followed him back, waving her farewell to the merchants she had met during their outings. They brought her her meal and told her she would be confined to the Captain's quarters until they had finished loading the ship, for her safety.

"Is this entirely necessary?" She tried to push past the crewman holding her food. Thomas was by the ship's wheel, talking animatedly to Roland about something.

"Captain's orders, ma'am." He set the food down and left, locking the door behind him. The sun was beginning to set on the water anyways, Sasha sighed to herself, sitting and eating.

After her meal, Sasha was unsure of what to do as she was not tired enough to just go to bed and sleep through her confinement. She decided all she could do for now was read, changing into her nightclothes and settling into the bed with her tattered copy of Antony and Cleopatra. She could hear the crew shouting as they brought aboard their cargo just as her eyes started to flutter closed.

The gentle rocking of the boat tried to soothe her back to sleep when she awoke the next morning. Sasha shot out of bed, stumbling to get dressed. The cabin door was unlocked and she burst from onto the deck. Crewmen scuttled about, ignoring the brunette as she ran to the railing and looked out. She could barely see the coastline on the horizon meaning they had set sail long before dawn.

"Good morning, love." Thomas greeted her cheerily as she made her way up the stairs to the helm.

"We've set sail? Why wasn't I woken up?" Sasha didn't return his kiss.

"I thought you would enjoy the rest, my dear."

"So am I free to roam about the ship or am I to be bound to quarters until we reach Jamaica?"

"You are here now, aren't you?" Thomas snapped, confused by her sudden hostility. "I didn't want you in the way if one of them broke free. Your safety has been my highest priority since you begged me to come along." Sasha was silent, noticing Jack on a lower deck, looking pale, while some of the other men seemed to make jest at his expense.

"May I go see?"

"The cargo?" The hesitation in Thomas' voice raised an alarm in the back of her mind. "If you wish." He started down the stairs, Sasha following close behind. As she passed Jack on the way down into the ship, he caught her arm.

"I really don't think you should." He looked at her with a mix of pity and warning.

"Sasha, love, come along." Thomas called from below deck. Jack let her go and went back to work. She caught up to her husband and followed him down into the cargo hold. The sight before her nearly stopped her heart.

Packed as tightly as possible, hundreds of African's were bound by chains to each other and to the ship. There were men, women, and even children filling the length of the hold. Some looked at her with varying emotions, fear, confusion, hatred. Sasha turned on Thomas and struggled to get her voice to function.

"You said that you traded in livestock." Her voice cracked as she herself filled with the same emotions in the eyes of the captives.

"They are no better than animals, love. They are savage, soon to be taught some real manners on the sugar plantations." A loud smack rang out, turning heads to the Captain and his wife.

"They are human beings, Thomas! You trade in human lives like some kind of monster." Sasha was fuming, hand stinging from the slap she had given her husband across the face. He struck her hard as well, sending her reeling back from the force. Tears welled from the pain and betrayal she felt.

"Don't you ever lay your hands on me, Sasha. I am not in the wrong, goods are goods, no matter what they are." Thomas shouted loud enough it seemed to reverberate through the wood of the ship. He tried to gather himself and realized he had hit his loving wife. He reached out to soothe her but she smacked his hand away, fixing him with a glare.

"You don't ever touch me again, Thomas Wainwright." She stormed up the stairs. The sailors watched her as she walked as calmly as she could to her quarters. Some looked on with sympathy at the red across her cheek and how she had learned the truth, guilty they hadn't warned her months ago against the Captain's orders. One of the older men, only on the crew to pay off an old debt, shoved Jack and pointed at her as she slammed the door.

"She needs someone to help her come to terms with this mess." He hinted gruffly. "She likes ya', lad, yer the only friend she has on this ship right now." Jack nodded, dropping the armful of rope he had been hauling. He had only found out hours before they started loading them up what the real cargo was, lied to as well by everyone aboard. He made his way to the door and knocked softly.

"Mrs. Wainwright?" He called, poking his head in. She was sitting at the Captain's desk holding an unopened bottle of gin, glaring at him as he entered the room.

"Don't call me that." She set the bottle down and sighed. "I don't know if I should turn to the bottle or throw myself onto the bed and weep." He noticed how shaky her hands were as she let go of the gin. He walked over and picked up the alcohol, putting it back in the cabinet with its rye and fruit based brethren.

"I don't think that would help." Jack stood in front of the desk and looked down at the woman.

"Well what would you do if you learned that your husband was a slave trader, hm? I have to endure this hellish journey to these peoples enslavement. I can't jump overboard, though perhaps it'd spare me the guilt of being a part of this." He let her talk, knowing it would relieve some of the raging emotions coursing through her. She looked up at him with tears streaming down her face. "How could they take children, Jack? How could they think this is okay?"

He wanted so badly to find a sword and run it through every man on this ship, as his father would likely do. The rage he had felt early that morning had returned. He hesitantly rounded the desk and knelt beside Sasha.

"They'll get theirs, we'll see to that."