The Cathedral
Chapter 3
The Gold Coast 1746
A sea of brown reflects in the bright sun surrounded by golden sand and lush green stand a legion of African warriors spears aloft painted and feathered in a machinery of war.
"Nimeata Massinga!" the single voice hollers.
Thousand of raised voices in response is a unification breaking the calm silence with an uproar from over twenty thousand warriors tribes men. The sounds now come from deep inside the dense jungle rustles of wild birds and small life nervously resettling, as the rest of the dark continent wait on a judgment.
"Unkametta kumanaa?"
"Yes." The reply is in English and from an overdressed pale skinned European man, sat to the right of a large wooden throne. Upon the wooden native built throne sits the obese Black war chief Afumba Accura.
Accura was the regions war chief now ruling a vast continent around the Gold coast and he reeked of blood power. Luckily Dutch interpreter John Heron, is trading on behalf of Acuura and other European men, seen sat not far away.
It's an Englishman man called Charlie Watts, who gestures towards the Dutchman John Heron. King Afumba Accura had just spoken, passing judgment on those held captive before him.
"You can have all these slaves Gentelmen Take ya' choose..." declared the Dutch man.
"Ah," came the sound from an approaching figure called Roger Leatham. A tall handsome man in his early twenties who liked to give out orders. "Mr. Heron...You tell my lads ta fetch the shackles and have them all secured and hosed down before we inspect and move em starboard" he demanded.
The Dutch man again turned to address a stooping warrior and spoke his demands. The warrior then relayed what was said to a huge man on the throne, in their spoken dialogue.
Amidst many Negro African prisoners her beauty prominent amidst other and cowering was Hanyati Wass Massinga and she was in pain. Her facial swelling had began and meant her eyesight was becoming affected. But not enough to blind her vision completely. Others were moaning, as dark skinned warriors of the Accura Tribe as their captors held spears aloft to keep them in order.
"You are now prisoner...Of King Accura Afumba.." They had been told.
A stern warning was given to the few Massinga men that survived a surprise attack, not to attempt any revolt against Accura. The men separated from the women meant Hanyati was trying to see, if she could see her brother Kofi. After receiving the heavy blow to her face, her eyesight was now getting worse.
There were other people here and Hanyati knew they were strangers. In her mind, she could only describe them as ghosts with white skin. A colour she had never ever seen before. Hanyati was fourteen and from the Massinga tribe north of Angola she is the youngest daughter of a Massiya King.
Unknown to those participating in her detention, Hanyati was a princess and her bloodline from a fierce war tribe that now resided north around the Mountains of Angola. Neither did they know her captivity would send ripples through the whole African continent. The fact her elder brother Kofi was the direct heir to the Massi Kingdom, many knew would mean the end of her nation and a war of blood.
Watching them being separated from the men, Hanyati knew her brother had been very lucky. Many of the royal protection escort, had been killed and their bodies displayed on the ground, before Accura's throne.
The large man on it had spoken, but it was in a dialect Hanyati could not understand. She was frightened and wanted nothing more than to be back inside her village. Again she looked around, for any sign of her brother Kofi.
The men had all been shackled and chains weighing them down as they are herded forward and away.
"That's too old..." shouted a portly red faced man, waving a stick at an old Negro man.
The portly red face belonged to Ladrick Charlie, a slave master from a ship they proudly called Enterprise.
"Well... Mr. Ladrick! Confedrate side this lot then?" came the question from a man called Maxell stood beside him.
"Ah Maxwell... if we don't stop via a Windies, one must not forget our captain's love. Means a stop at rum island..." chuckled Ladrick.
"I'm takin' some of em big un's wi me.." Maxwell notions towards a large group of shackled Negro females. "This ull be me last journey Ladrick. Yes it will.."
"Mine and all," shouted Charlie Watts making his way towards the two men. "I'm takin Harper ...one buck and a couple a nigger wenches." he concluded.
Billy Maxwell snarled, he didn't like Charlie Watts very much, they were rivals. Although a rough ex Mersey river browler, Billy Maxwell knew how to handle himself and his business. He was employed to buy slaves for the ships owned by Aspinal & Aspinal. Unlike Charlie Watts and Roger Leathom representing ships called Lottery and Earl of Liverpool, who are in the employment a rival company called Thomas Leyland & Co. With two more ships waiting at sea Thomas Leyland's slave enterprise was regularly running a shuttle service.
In 1746 England and America, the Dutch and the Belgians where involved in African slave trading in earnest.
With the Negro male captives expediently placed in irons, it was now the women being herded forward. This was the Gold Coast by the great waters, young Hanyati knew this. That's why they'd come here, to visit the great waters.
Clearly the fat man on the throne was talking again and a woman screaming. Screaming as she was desperately holding on to a small boy. The participating Warriors of King Afumba Accura, grabbed her child and dragged him away.
Everyone was pushing forward when Hanyati saw her chance. An escape developing from a slim gap, as those in front of her, were herded towards the white strangers. These people she could see, placing metal twine around their skin.
They were prisoners Hanyati knew that and also that she had to get away. She was going to escape and run, run all the way back to her village.
The voice that spoke in her mind, said "Now Hanyati... run Hanyati. Run!"
MORE SOON...
