“Are you afraid, girl?” The man asked her.

No, she wasn’t afraid. But maybe he should be, because if he struck her again, he would find himself a witness to the wrath of Aida-Wedo, the rainbow serpent.

“No. I am not afraid. And I am called Ghislaine.”

“Your speech is educated. Who was your master?”

“I had no master. The man I killed was my father.” Ghislaine was not ashamed of her act, it had to be done. “It was demanded by the spirits. He was a bad man who did bad things.”

“And his children?”

“Were mine. Abominations.”

“And did the spirits demand this as well?”

“No. I did. It was unnatural.”

“I see.” Martine was conciliatory.

“I don’t think you do, but it doesn’t matter. It is done.”

“And if I keep you to share my bed, will I find my throat slit?”

Ghislaine concluded that his physicality was not altogether unpleasant. He was well made, strong and handsome. She could have done much worse for herself, she could be in a brothel, working the cane fields, or dead.

“No. I would not kill you.”

“What would you do?” He asked, as he pulled her from the horse.

“Whatever you wish.”

“What if I desired to watch my biggest and strongest field hands plow you like the cane?”

“I’m not a whore.”

“You are whatever I want you to be. When you learn that, when you surrender your will, such things I will give you.”

Ghislaine bit the inside of her cheek to keep from responding. She would never surrender her will, no matter how kind he was. And until she had the freedom to roam the grounds and find the

herbs that she needed, she had to do whatever he demanded of her.

His smile was wicked, almost an aberration. “Even if I did, they are no longer capable of such an act.” Martine schooled his features. “This was but a learning tool. If you do not obey me, terrible things will happen to you here.”