Like Chaff in the Wind Read Online Free PDF

huge waves broke above them, sea water cascading through the hatches. It was a relief to see a pale spring sun filter through, and James led them in grateful prayer that this, at least, they had survived.
    All of them were allowed out on deck to dry themselves and the hold was mopped up as well as could be done. The captain even accorded them a tot of brandy, muttering something about them being worth nothing to him dead, before ordering them back down into their dark damp quarters.
    Three men died; one of what James said was the ague, shivering to death, two of consumption, coughing their lungs apart. Where the other men drew back, afraid of catching these deadly diseases, James sat with them, talking to them and soothing them as best he could.
    “Are you not afraid then?” Matthew said.
    James just shrugged. “If I die, I die.”
    “But…don’t you want to live, to return to your family?”
    James sighed and picked a weevil or two out of the bread. “I’ll not be going back, Matthew. I feel it in my bones.”
    “Of course you will, we’ll help each other.”
    James didn’t reply, his eyes misting over. “We’ll help each other,” he said after a while. “And mayhap one of us will make it home.”
    “Both of us,” Matthew insisted, making James give him an exasperated look.
    “You don’t know, do you? Most of us will die before our years of service are up, treated like beasts of burden on endless fields.”
    “Not me.”
    James gave him a sad little smile. “Nay, lad, not you.”
    Matthew shivered at his tone and threw a look down his own tall frame. It would be just like it had been in gaol, with him singled out for the heaviest work on account of his size and strength. He’d spend never ending days in back-breaking labour – yet again – and a frightened voice in the pit of his stomach wondered how long it would take before he began to wear down. Matthew shook himself. He was here wrongfully, and once they’d landed he’d find someone he could complain to. But even as he thought it, he knew it wouldn’t help. Who would listen? Who would care? He leaned back against the planking and sighed.
    “She’ll come, my Alex will come.” His woman; she’d come for him.
    “Of course she will,” James said. Matthew closed his eyes. He could hear it in James’ voice, that he didn’t believe she would.
    *
    The day the ship anchored in the James River, the men in the hold sighed in relief. Land, soon there would be land beneath their feet, and nothing could possibly be as bad as the sea crossing, could it? A low buzz of excitement spread, the younger men surreptitiously inspecting their wasted bodies. Did they look healthy enough? Only James sat in silence.
    To Matthew, the heat came as a shock. It was May, and the humidity hung like a drenched blanket around him, making it an effort even to breathe. He stared at the buildings huddled together on the swampy island, and up his spine snaked a tendril of fear. What kind of land was this? Everything was green, a heavy, smothering green, and just moving made him perspire, sticking his worn and grimy linen shirt to his skin. He couldn’t breathe, his throat closing up in protest at this hot, wet air. How could anyone work in this?
    He was manhandled into a boat and rowed across, and the following minutes he spent in a daze. Only vaguely did he understand he was being sold, and when he tried to object that he was not an indenture, that he was a kidnapped man, he was laughed in the face. Had he not been in chains he would have struck the huge man in front of him, but now he just gritted his teeth and swore that someday that bastard would choke on his contemptuous laughter.
    He saw James disappear from him, tried to call his name and assure him they would meet again, but a hard hand wrenched him off in another direction, shoving him and six others from his ship towards a waiting cart. Chains were struck off to be replaced by ropes, they were tied to the tailgate