Historical Fiction Slavery Novels & Stories

"Of course. People employ them sometimes but I don't think that's so in this case," Green nodded. It got me more confused. "You look confused, Iris," "Because I am." "Okay, here's the thing," Kylie began as she spread her feet. "The slavers have nothing. They're like a tribe of really poor people who have to rob to make a living. They once thrived in cannibalism before their new King abolished it. They continued robbery, started trying to conquer settlements and towns with the little fortune they had accumulated by coming into their place, making the people fall to their knees and pledging their loyalty to him and burning down settlements who refused to pledge allegiance. In that case, that

“Sold for sixty million!" Did I just spend sixty million for a slave?

I quickly got down from the bed and rushed out of the room, making my way to the slave dining. When I got there, the long dining table was already filled to the brim with slaves; young and old alike. I managed to find an empty seat facing a male slave and sat down. We were often divided into groups to share a big bowl of food, which often led to fights and arguments about who would eat the most; that moment was always when the elderlies would scold us, telling us we had more stamina than them and should eat less, leading to rebellion from the younger ones.

Then she saw King Rupert, bound and gagged, being transported by cart to the place they normally took criminals to be hung. “Don’t hurt him,” she begged. “Isn’t there a code or something?” Earl Adam gripped her hair tightly, forcing her head back. She met his bleak gaze with obvious reluctance. “Like he did for my father?” Cassie whimpered. “I’m so sorry.” “But you weren’t then, were you? Such a spoiled little girl. You will be, later,” he promised, “when I introduce you to my men.” “I don’t understand.” “That’s what usually happens to slaves, willing or not,” he told her.

she answered. There were some gasps from the other students. "Oh come on Brooke, so you're saying that black people wanted to be treated with whipping, burning, hanging and all those other stuff?" a male student asked her. "Yes!" Brooke lash out. "In fact, the first slave owner was a black man. Let that sink in for a bit and ask yourselves why my ancestors never went to China or Russia which are also large countries. Why Africa? I'll tell you why, it's because black people were treating and selling their own black people as slaves. And hence forth, the Europeans joined in and took over.

I add, hoping that remembering him will pull me out of antiquity. But apparently I’m stuck here now, because nothing changes. The terrified screams of the slaves, their pain, shatters through the late afternoon as the roman soldiers hammer nails through wrists and ankles. They do their work methodically, unemotionally. They truly believed that they were better than the slaves, and that they deserved this terrible, painful death for not accepting their fates. A fate created by greedy humans, not the gods as they would have us believe. “This was one of the biggest empires,” I say. “It endured for a thousand years.”

If this guy wants to start something, I won't back down from a fight. “Uhm, you did do something terrible to me", I scoffed. “Really? Mind jogging my memory?”, He sat back and folded his arms, paying attention to me. “Well for starters, you bought me as a slave, then you brought me to your mansion just to lock me up in a cold dark room for weeks till I almost died!!”, I angrily told him. He sat forward and his eyes darkened, it looked like it was some nuclear weapon, waiting to be tampered with. I got scared for a minute, ‘Would he hurt me?’, I asked myself.

The three girls exclaimed in horror with Lydia clamping her mouth shut and Mariam rushing out to check if any guard was listening to them. "I see you do not like your life and perhaps you enjoyed being punished, just pray no one heard you because it this got to the master, you would be as good as dead" Luciana said glaring at her. Galene scoffed not bothered about what would happen to her if someone heard and report to the master. What more could he do other than kill her. Oh, how she hates him that she felt like appearing at that war and slashing his throat. She hated the master for involving in slave trade and taking away her innocent as though she worth nothing.

“Did they have many slaves?” “They weren’t slaves,” I corrected her. “It was before the civil war, right?” she asked. “Isn’t that when you went back? Before the war?” “The other plantations had slaves. Lance’s family employed free blacks,” I explained. “African Americans,” Nora corrected me. “Yes, although most of who they employed didn’t come from Africa. They were from Jamaica,” I said.

Left to my own devices, I did my best to root around for information on where my nasty brother-in-law was keeping himself so that I could wring his neck and then send him back to Marduke to call off the deal that he never should have made in the first place. The days were long and hot. Were it not for the anticipation of enjoying the throes of passion with my husband at the end of them, I questioned if I’d survive my stay without going crazy. It’s funny how a world that I found so fascinating during my first visit had shifted to something that I resented and, in some ways, abhorred. I resented the clothing that I was forced to wear, the lack of modern amenities such as air conditioning an