This one is a bit longer: Dawn.

Stone

5

That morning Rayla told Stone that they could leave the next day. It would give Nessa and the girls another day to recover from the birth, even though they would ride out on the wagons on the trip north. The craftsmen would have another four sets of stirrups done today for the remaining horses. In the morning Stone oversaw the reordering of the wagons. He now planned on taking two to Sarn, and the other two would go with the former slaves, who would now have an armed guard of eight: the two guards and six mounted militia, including Mick. Other men would serve on foot as militia. With at least nine foot militia bearing swords, and another five with pikes or other weapons, there was little chance of any slaver train trying to attack them.

Most of the trade goods were shifted to the wagons going to the Barrens. Almost everything on them would be of use to the people. Stone wanted the two other wagons primarily to buy more supplies in Sarn: even after dispersing money to the former slaves, over half of Kepler’s stash of gold was left. The money would buy tools, seed, and food for the new community the ex-slaves hoped to create. They could also buy another wagon or two, if needed.

Stone was sitting on Doug, confident that the re-packing was done, when he heard childish laughter to the west. They trotted over to see what it was. Most of the teens were playing in the river: Carlson had said it was named the Green River. It was only waist deep here, without much current, only enough to keep it clear and sparkling with a sandy bottom and banks. The preteen kids in the water were calling over a boy on the bank, and he jumped off to join them. Boys and girls both were only wearing underpants.

“Hey,” Stone heard a small voice under the bank say as the boy ran past. Stone looked down and saw a small girl of about three yelling at the teen boy as he ran past. It was Ranston’s second oldest child, the youngest of the former slaves, before Nessa had given birth to the twins. They also had a young son of about six, who Stone had last seen play-fighting with sticks from the firewood pile with a boy about two years older.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” Stone asked the girl.

“He wrecked my sand fort,” she said, just on the edge of breaking into tears.

“Awe, that is awful,” Stone said. “Can you fix it? What is your name?”

“I is Lillibet. Doan wanna fix it,” she lisped. “Your horsie is very big.”

“He is. I think he is the biggest horse in the world. Would you like to sit on him?”

“Can I?” she asked eagerly, the incipient tears disappearing.

“For a few minutes. My name is Stone,” he said, lifting her up and placing her into the too-big saddle, where she was unable to spread her feet over the sides. Her eyes got wide in amazement.

“It is so high,” she lisped softly. “I can see all the kids in the river. What are they doing?”

Stone looked, and saw that four boys had four girls on their shoulders and were pushing each other around, trying to knock the other teams into the water. It was midway between playing and courting, although Stone didn’t say that to the little girl.

“I think the girls have gotten the boys to be their horsies,” he explained. “But you have a real horsie.”

“There you are,” a voice from a few yards behind said. It was Ranston, come to fetch his daughter. “Are you bothering Stone?”

“Look daddy, I am riding the big horsie,” she said. Then she stood on the saddle and jumped at Stone, grabbing around his neck with her tiny arms as he reached out to hold her safe.

“I love you, Mr. Stone,” she said, giving the big man a hug even though her arms wouldn’t even reach around his massive neck. “You are so nice.”

Ranston plucked his daughter away. “I’m sorry, sir. She shouldn’t have been a bother to you.” To his daughter he said: “Do you want to go see your baby sisters?”

“The babies. Yes,” she said joyously, and they headed off to the camp.

Stone had a lump in his throat, and was unable to speak for a moment.

“Did the big giant just get conquered by a girl less than three feet tall?” a teasing voice said.

“Pretty much,” he admitted, turning to Rayla. He gestured at the teens in the water. “Isn’t wonderful, to be able to hear children’s laughter. I insist on coming back to these people once we finish up in Sarn, no matter what. So why are you over here?”

“Well, Ranston was looking for his daughter, and of course Arthur spotted her in a few seconds. So I led him over here. I wanted to talk to you for a second.”

“Oh, about what?”

“Just to let you know that it is all right for us to split up tomorrow. The shackle wounds are not all healed, but they should be fine in time. Ranston’s wife is ready to travel … on a wagon … and the babies are coming along wonderfully.”

“Yes. I did not have you pegged as a midwife.”

“You are not nearly as surprised as I was,” Rayla said.

Stone mounted, leaving the redhead staring out over the joyful play of the teens. He asked the horse to take him to the wagons that were heading north tomorrow. He had to root around in one for a bit until he found the pile of chains and shackles that had been taken off the slaves. The smaller children had not worn leg shackles, but smaller bindings that went around a wrist, and were chained to one or the other parent. He grabbed one set and took it to the smith, who had just finished the second four stirrups.

“Can you take the chain off this?” he asked the smith, who took the chain and hit it cold with his hammer and chisel, snapping one of the small chain links.

“Thanks,” Stone said. “Do you want me to take the chain back to the wagon?”

“No problem,” the smith said. “I still have another good hour of light before I need to end my days work, and I think I will find the other small chains like this and join them together. They might be useful in situations where a rope won’t do.”

Stone then took the tiny shackle and hooked it onto Doug’s saddle. «A favor from your lady,» the horse said.

“Yes. Does it bother you?”

«Not at all. Though it might bounce around a bit at a gallop.»

“I don’t think so. It is twisted on there pretty tightly. It will remind me why we are doing this.”

«So you have figured out our mission?»

“Well, I don’t know if it was the reason we were all brought here, but I’m pretty sure that my mission now is to end slavery on this world. Or at least make it more humane. This will remind me that no child will ever be a slave again, if I can prevent it,” Stone said. Then he thought of the 13 people who had refused to leave slavery, for reasons he could not fathom. Suddenly Carlson, riding hard towards them, hailed him.

“Captain,” the guard said, using the term that Stone had said the men were to use instead of Mylord or Master. “There is a wagon approaching. Traders by the look of them. One very old, the other young, but adult.”

Doug trotted off after the guard and they came to the wagon. There was no slave train accompanying them, so they were welcomed to the tent, and asked if they wanted to stay for dinner.

“Who are all these people?” the old man asked.

“Former slaves who have been freed,” Stone said. “They were being taken to Sarn to be sold, and I convinced their slave master to free them. He is buried over there.” The big man pointed to the mass grave where the slave master and guards were buried.

“Oh my,” the old man gasped. “Were I a younger man I might want to be free.”

“You are a slave?” Doug asked. “If so you are freed now. I thought you were the owner of this wagon.”

“No,” the old man replied. “Young Dak here owns the wagon … and me. I was purchased as a young man by his grandfather, and worked 40 years with his father. When the master died five years ago, I took young Dak into the business, which I knew well, when he was still a lad who had only made one trip with us.”

“You are free now,” Stone said, “if you want it.”

“No, thank you very much, but I don’t know how to be free. After 70 years as a slave I know that role very well. I would remain in it, if I may.”

“There are others in the train who feel the same way,” Doug said. “I don’t understand it. They would rather be taken to Sarn and put in auction than take their freedom.”

“I hope they get good masters like I have,” the ancient said. “But perhaps I can explain the reason why they fear freedom, as I do. I have gone an entire lifetime without having to make a decision. That is the master’s role. To be forced to make decisions all day long: frightening.”

That evening the two men joined their meal in with the train. The traders had a large wheel of cheese, which some of the former slaves had never tasted and none had recently, and all were given a slice with the stew that was served, liberally peppered with small game that Rayla had shot during a hunting trip earlier in the day.

When all were full and happy, Stone stood and announced that the sleeping-in late many had enjoyed the last two days was over, and there would be an early start in the morning. Rayla had given him a list of the names of who would ride the wagons and he read it: Nessa and her babies, along with her young son and daughter, Lillibet, and two adults whose shackle sores were not healed. Other young children were on the list, including two girls who had been playing in the river. That caused Stone to change topic.

“I noticed six or eight youngsters playing in the river this afternoon, and I can’t tell you how it warmed my heart to hear such joy as they were experiencing. But I want to warn them. They were in couples, and I think more than a little flirting was happening. The age of majority in this country is 15 for boys and 13 for girls, and I feel that some, if not all, of those playing were younger than that. This kind of play can lead to unexpected results, and it would be difficult for a young couple to start out with a baby right away. I expect the mothers of the girls to speak to them tonight, and if any of you do not have a mother, seek out Rayla. She is easy to talk to.”

He looked around, spotting several young faces very red in color. “Is there anything else? The children should go to bed now, even though it is still light. Dawn will come early tomorrow. The wise adult will also lay down soon.”

Two of the elderly slaves came forward. They were among the 13 who had said that they wished to go to the auction in Sarn.

“Pardon, captain,” one said. “We two would like to go on with the others tomorrow. There is a risk of a bad master in an auction. Instead we would go with the others. But as slaves, not freemen. I would join with Kepple, the thatcher. I was slave to a thatcher for many years, and know how to select the proper plants for thatch, and can lead a team of cutters he wants to send into the bogs. And Mara here wants to work for Ranston Petters, to help his young wife with her youngsters.

Stone stood by, pensive. He had hoped that the community could be slavery free, but it would be cruel to deprive these two of good masters.

“Okay,” Stone said. “I will allow this. I have been thinking about slavery a lot these past few days, and I want to set up some rules. 1) No child can be a slave. They might be given simple chores, by the owners of their parents, but must be given time for play and also given schooling, so they learn how to read, write and deal with numbers. The master of their parents must support these children as he does his own. 2) No slave family can be broken apart by sale. 3) No master will whip his slave. You can discipline them, but no more than a hired servant. Remember the rule of thumb: no hitting with a stick thicker than the thumb, and that will be the thumb of the slave, not the master. Extended whippings are not allowed, even ‘to set an example,’ 4) Each slave will be given an allowance of cash each quarter, to be no less than a third of what a paid servant can earn. 5) Any slave who announces in public “I am free” three times in succession will become free immediately, and will receive the allowance owed to him or her. The former owner will receive no compensation. 6) Slaves will receive one day off each fortnight, and at least four consecutive hours off each day.”

“These rules may seem to make it uneconomic to own a slave, and if this is the case I will be happy. Between the allowance and room and board, and clothing, it will cost nearly as much to keep a slave, as hiring a servant. But this will allow those who would prefer to remain in slavery that option. It also ensures that eventually slavery will die out as those who wish to remain enslaved pass on. If any of the others here wish to make arrangements with others of those going north, do so this evening, and make your choice known by choosing whichever wagon train you want in the morning.”

Finally three of the women came forth and one started to speak: “I am Amber,” their spokesman said. “I and several others in the group are seamstresses, and we wanted to do something for Rayla, who has done so much for us in healing and helping Nessa with her children. We found a bolt of this gorgeous blue material in the wagons, and cut off a piece to make this.” She held out what appeared to be a dress.

Rayla was stunned into silence. Her eyes looked yearningly to Stone, as she said: “A Dolly must wear clothing like I have on. It is part of the geas laid onto us.”

Stone leaned over and whispered in her ear: “I am your master. If I order you to wear this dress, can you?”

“As you wish, master,” she said meekly, although her eyes shone with desire. She turned to the women. “I accept your gracious gift. It is beautiful. Can one of you help me into it?”

The garment was actually a two-piece set. The top, large enough to accommodate her large chest, was separate from the bottom, which was actually pants, although the legs were wide enough to look like a dress. “To allow you to ride, milady,” one woman said.

Rayla was in tears as she thanked all the women. With a garment like this she no longer was recognizable as a dolly. Her figure hinted at it, but people could no longer assume that she was not a normal woman, especially the way that Stone treated her. It was as though a stigma had been removed.

Thus in the early dawn the train headed north with all but six of the slaves joining it, Thus all six of the slaves going to Sarn were able to ride on the wagons. Carlson drove the wagon that the slaver Kepler had been in, and Stone and Rayla rode their horses, while Glory and the filly traipsed along behind. All the other horses went north, ridden by the former guards and the best men of the militia.