Chapter 7. Casa de las Canas
Two women, shared the same icy stare. In four years, they had their indentured contracts extended against their will three times.
Now they both had an extra seven years on their service to the plantation.
They were the only women that did not suffer the forced marriage and children in the House of the Canes in the four years they had been in the service to the plantation.
Caoimhe Ni Maile MacRanald, from Campbell’s Town in Scotland was cousin to Fey Mac Boru O’Danu, the women grew up together as children, writing letters to each other when apart. They knew well enough they were no longer free in the first days of their servitude and they brought suffering unlike anything the men experienced before.
Then, the rape teams tried to move on them in the cabin they shared, to tame the women from the wilds of the emerald isle.
And it was failure that would echo for years. Now men feared the two women with blue-ice for eyes and fire for hair. These Scots women, one with an Irish name by marriage, held sway over all men on the plantation.
Garcia Parga, the Master of the Fields. The jefe de las cañas, would tremble at the thought of approaching the women and pass on a command from the owner of the estate.
Roberto de Las Planas owned and drove the daily trip to town in his covered coach, let Garcia to do the day-to-day work. except for the two women that he had bought at the slave-pens in Barbados, he had full confidence that all would be well.
The women, the first one called Fey.
Even after four years, he struggled with the name of the taller, slightly crazier one with the name of a harsh land.
“Keeva” He thought to himself. He tried to give her a Christian name, but the struggle for that in those early days was not worth the battle.
His memory of that time made him laugh and weep at the same time.
Unknown to anyone, his purchase of these two guardians of the house, they were more formidable than anyone would have suspected.
In the first day, he sent his best looking men in as their mates. Roberto even told the men to make sure the women would have children inside of them.
Over that long year, breeder teams went into the cabin where the women lived, fueled by wine and rum. But, then none of the muscular and brave men came out intact.
His memory ached with the lessons of dealing with priestesses of the Drui
Powerful, muscular and brave, they all wept like children. Many holding vital parts of their anatomy, limped and breathless in agony.
He was positive that the larger redhead was guilty of some crime against the men who wept afterwards.
But to a man, the ones in most agony, identified the smaller woman as the roaring spirit that fought like a wild cat.
One man, who bled freely from his now broken nose, winced when he sat on the steps leading up the the main house, shook his head. Afraid for those who thought they would try to take the women against their will in that cabin of pain.
“Senior Garcia. I do not think there is enough rum on all the island to make me or any of the others to try to take them women against their will.” He said. The man, named Gawrhum by Roberto de las Planas. “These women will protect the house they are in. But I dare not hazard to try to mate them with anyone against their will.”
Garcia shook his head in disagreement.
“All women seek to have strong men.” He told Gawrhum.
“These women have more soul than ten men. They are far more than you think, they are both like demons when they fight.” The men watched another servant walk by holding a hand to his pants, in an attempt to stop the bleeding from his ruined flesh. “They have not chosen him, either. He is the strongest of us and has many children.”
Four men entered the cabin, sounds of shrieks like two demons emanated from the cabin.
One man almost made it out, before the smaller woman who claimed her name as Fey, flew out and grabbed the man by the hair and dragged him down as if she had a sheep to sheer.
He screamed for help as she pulled him back into the cabin by his mustache.
When the master of the house returned to his plantation, Garcia told him of how the smaller woman, as tall as many men, she beat on the servants as they were sent in. And how the taller woman with fists like a man knocked one to the ground and slammed his head in the door a dozen times.
“He will not work for a week, she has broken his face.” Garcia said.
Roberto held his face in his hands.
“What do we do?”
“Leave them be, use other means to keep them.” Garcia raised his eyebrows. “Find another way to enslave them, if you dare.”
Four years ago. News that spread of children that escaped. Released by the English fool Myngs had begun a new time of destruction against the empire.
Château du Soleil, owned by Frenchman Philippe Cornu, burned to the ground by servants under the command of the children pirates after he freed them like God’s Wrath against the population.
Cornu was slow to rebuild, and that allowed other plantations to expand, including this Casa de Las Canas. The only people who seemed to enjoy the news of such destruction were the Irish slaves. The women who he was successful to breed, he could force them to stay beyond the original contract that was imposed on them.
But the two that kept their pagan names?
No one dared cross them. They performed duties and ruled with an iron hand, the household was safe, clean and always ready for visitors.
The one thing that grated on Roberto’s soul, was their arcane observation of their old religion.
Now, he came from the harbor with news of from the crew of one ship. A new threat of the Caribbean was spoken of in fear-filled whispers. A small fleet of four pirate ships, one ship crewed with children.
The eyes of the Celtic woman glittered with the news.
“Senior Roberto.” She told him, the icy blue of her eyes chilled his soul. “You would do well to release all your servants. Should the child pirate come here.”
“Fey.” Caoimhe interrupted. “Nae speak of those bairns. Walk with me.”
Alone in a room, they spoke in their Gaelic language.
“Do not say you are related to any of them. You will be used to bait Keegan into a trap.”
“That is my son, he comes for all of us. I wish him safe, but Roberto should know what comes.”
“Ach! Keep your head down, cousin, stand with the other servants. We will leave together in time.” The larger woman admonished her older, smaller relative.
“Caoimhe, my son returns.” Fey smiled wide. “They all return.”
“They return for us.” Fey smiled wider still.