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By Root 2003 0

Domingo City. Couachy had been to that place before, not so long ago, when Papa Toussaint had sent his army to the Spanish side of the island for the first time, but Guiaou had not. He had not been to Point Samana either until that day when Papa Toussaint had brought them to look at the ships of the French. It was the first time he had traveled so far across the border, but he had known Couachy for a long time and was content to follow him. Couachy rode in front, then Guerrier who had just been made a soldier by Papa Toussaint, and Guiaou third. Guiaou had never seen Guerrier before yesterday when Papa Toussaint tossed him the musket he carried now across his saddle bow, but he felt a warmth toward Guerrier because he remembered how, a long time ago, Papa Toussaint had taken him in when he was nearly naked and had made him a soldier too by giving him a gun. Guerrier rode well—he must have spent some time training horses at Toussaint’s hatte across the border— but he did not seem to know what to do with the musket. He kept turning it and flourishing it one way and another, and Guiaou’s horse twitched uneasily between his knees whenever the sunlight flashed on the barrel.

They had to ride someway inland along the north bank of the River Yuna to find a ford where they could cross. Even there the water was deeper than Guiaou liked, chest-deep on the horses in the middle of the river. It rose to touch Guiaou’s boot in the stirrup, cold water seeping through the seams of the uppers. The cold water climbed his shinbone toward his knee, spilling over the boot top. Guiaou closed his eyes and felt his teeth clench tight. He prayed, Gras lamisérikòd, loosening the rein and trusting his horse to follow the others without guidance. Gras lamisérikòd, Papa . . . The water climbed onto his thigh and he waited for the sick lurch when the horse’s hooves would be uprooted from the bottom and the horse would begin to swim. But this did not happen. Instead the water began to sink, finally releasing its grip on his ankle, and Guiaou opened his eyes as the horse came scrambling up the southern bank of the river. He prayed his thanksgiving as he dumped the water from his boots and slung them over his saddle bow. The cloth of his trousers and the skin of his legs dried quickly as they rode east in the afternoon sun, warming against the drying hide of the horse.

On the south side of the bay the trail became narrow, difficult, running steeply up and down the cliffside above the ocean. Far to the east, where the bay’s mouth gave onto the open sea, appeared white splotches of bellying sails—ships of the blancs sailing toward Cape Engaño.

“Ki moun yo yé?” Guerrier said. Who are they? The voice startled Guiaou, for there had been no word spoken among the three of them since they parted from Papa Toussaint, only the noise of the surf and the cries of the gulls diving down the black walls of the cliffs above the water.

“Moun fransé,” Couachy told him. French people.

“Poukisa y’ap vini?” Guerrier asked. What have they come for?

“To make us slaves again,” Couachy said shortly. Guerrier looked back over his shoulder, over the black switching tail of his bay horse. His eyes caught Guiaou’s for a moment before he faced forward again, but he did not ask another question. They rode on.

The sun turned red and quickly fell behind the mountains to the west. They rode through the brief twilight, and then, for a little while, under the stars. The trail was difficult in the faint light and they went slowly, often dismounting to lead their horses over the tricky ground. A warm, wet wind blew inland from the bay, carrying with it a shelf of cloud. By the time they had made their way down from the cliff trail to lower ground, the stars had all been darkened and they were making their way across a mangrove swamp by touch.

“Nou pa kab vansé konsa!” Couachy announced. We cannot go on like this! He looked around himself—the writhing shadows of the mangroves stretched out in all directions. “We must stop for the night—in the dark we would miss the road.”

Guiaou said