Begin the World Over by Kung Li Sun

Author:Kung Li Sun [Sun, Kung Li]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: AK Press
Published: 2022-07-10T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

Red Eagle led the way. There was a back trail through Stono swamp that would soon turn them westward to connect with the Cherokee Path. Mary brought up the rear, to soothe the horses carrying the two men most afraid of the hulking animals. She took up, as well, the string of horses that remained without riders. She left the last horse for Romaine, conferring with James at the base of the front steps.

The Prophetess gave James a fierce hug. “Goodbye, my friend.”

James’s face showed no emotion. “Good luck,” he intoned. He did not shake off Romaine’s embrace, nor did he return it.

Romaine smiled, surprised by the tenderness she felt for James. An hour earlier, he was well on his way to becoming a celebrated chef. Now everything was upside down. Would the whites believe James’s claim that he had nothing to do with this bloodshed? The church bells repeated their twenty peals, followed by another twenty. Romaine had no time left to wonder what would become of James. She swung her leg over the roan and, without a glance back, rode off to join the group.

James turned back to the mansion, his heart beating a panicked tattoo. He considered his chances of not being killed when the militia arrived. He made his way to the kitchen to finish loading his wagon, skirting the pools of blood spreading over the floor. After loading his pots, James found the mansion’s cask of salt and hoisted it up into the wagon. A quick run upstairs through the study rewarded the chef with a large well of ink and stack of paper. These he secured under the front seat, out of sight.

The faint glow of first light was on the horizon when the militia found their way to the governor’s mansion. They came striding up the street four and five abreast, waistcoats and court suits thrown over night clothes. James finished hitching the third and fourth horses and climbed up onto the driver’s seat. From the tone of the shouts, he knew they had found the bodies in the foyer and made their count. James smoothed the front of his shirt as he waited. He pulled up his socks and squared his shoulders under his fine coat. He neatened his eyebrows. He needed to look too expensive to shoot.

The man who spotted him immediately turned tail and ran. A minute later, he was back with a dozen other men, guns bristling. Every man had one eye on James and the other on their leader, a squat fellow whose cautious approach exaggerated the bow of his legs. None of the men fired out of panic and James gave a quick thanks this militia was well regulated. Careful not to move too quickly, James bent at the waist to give a slight bow.

“Sir,” James said in his most British English, “I must thank providence you have finally arrived.”

The bowlegged man stopped and lowered his gun. “Boy, whadya know about this?”

James cleared his throat and enunciated like his life depended on it.

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