Final Debt (Indebted #6)(49)

Not yet.

I had to provide for William. He had to go back and claim the Debt Inheritance before he was too old. My to-do list was still too long to succumb to elderly fatigue.

William was a godsend, helping me every step. He held my hand. He carried me when I collapsed. He helped the shamans break my fever when I was sick. He never stopped believing with me that one of these days we would find what we were owed.

And then one day, five years and four months after leaving England, we finally found it.

My eyesight had deteriorated further but every night at twilight, William would take me for a walk around our adopted village. He’d guide me to the riverbed and guard me from local predators while I washed and relaxed.

However, that night was different. A hyena appeared, laughing and hungry, and William chased it off with his spear. I stood in the middle of the water, not daring to leave but unable to see my brave grandson.

He wouldn’t respond to my calls. No sound gave a hint that he’d won. Tears started to fall at the thought of losing him. If he’d died, I couldn’t keep going anymore. Why should I? My stupid hope and blind belief that something good would happen would no longer be enough to sustain me.

However, my worry was for nothing because he returned. Blood smeared his bare chest as he dragged a hyena carcass behind him. He looked as wild and savage as our ebony-skinned saviours. He dropped the carcass and waded into the water directly to me. My animal hide skirt danced on the surface, lapping around my thighs as he held out something large and glossy and black. Black like a nightmare but an ultimate dream come true.

“What is it?” I whispered, my heart rate climbing. I didn’t know what I held, but it felt right. It felt true. It felt like redemption.

“I don’t know, but the stories they tell us around the fires might be based on truth. Remember they sing of a magical black rock? I think this might be it.” He kissed my cheek, hefting the weight of the suddenly warm stone. “I think this is worth something, Grandmamma. I think this might be the start of something good.”

I’d like to say I lived to see the good arrive, but I’d done all I could for my grandson. A few months later, I fell sick and remained bed-ridden as he found more black stones, digging with spears and hipbones of lions, slowly sifting through soil and rock. Black stones gave way to white stones, clear stones, glittering beautiful stones.

Our tribe gathered and hoarded, filling bushels and burying them safely so other clans didn’t rob us. William gathered a hunting party to return to the bustling port and trade his magical stones.

I remained behind, clinging to life as hard as I could.

My body had done its task, but I didn’t want to leave…not yet.

We’d heard tales of a gold trader who made a fortune in saffron and bullion. That same trader took William aside and whispered in his ear that he might’ve found a rare diamond.

Diamond.

I’d never seen one up close. I’d heard of them on the king’s finery but never been lucky enough to witness.

The night William returned from port, he told me he’d traded enough clear stones for passage back to England. And that was when I knew the tides had finally turned. The Weavers had ruled for long enough.

It was our turn.

By candle-light, we negotiated his plan upon returning to the United Kingdom. I gave him my elderly wisdom and what I’d learned the hard way. In order to become untouchable, he had to buy those who would protect him. He had to give the king everything to purchase his trust. He had to spend money to make his fortune last longer than fleeting.

I hoped he’d heed my advice.

Unfortunately, I never knew.

I died two weeks before William named a handful of trusted warriors the Black Diamonds and booked passage on the first boat back to England.

I never got to see him strip and destroy those who’d ruined us.

I never got to see the fruition of my sacrifice.

But it didn’t matter.

I loved him with all my heart.

I’d given him everything.

I’d finally set him free.





“COULD YOU FEEL her loyalty, Nila? Her unfailing spirit toward her beloved family?”

Cut’s voice tore me from the hypnosis of learning about Mabel Hawk. She was the only reason the Hawks had become the superpower they were today. Without her, without her determination and willingness to do whatever it took, the Hawks would’ve remained poor and unknown.

I rolled my shoulders, forcing myself to snap out of the trance he’d put me in. I couldn’t forget I stood in a dank mine—the very mine William Hawk started so many centuries ago. Cut wasn’t telling me history for the fun of it—he gave me a prelude to the debt I would soon have to pay.

Listening to Mabel’s tale, I couldn’t figure out what the payment would be. Mabel had given up everything for her grandson. What a strong, commendable woman she was. Even if she was the reason for my pain.

“Yes.” I nodded. “She did so much.” My eyes met Jethro’s. His nostrils flared wide, sucking in damp air, unable to talk with the gag lodged in his mouth. My heart overflowed with love and affection. I fully understood Mabel’s drive to save someone she loved.

She saved them.

I smiled sadly to think two things in both our families had been passed down from generations. One, my family had always had the tendency to breed in multiples. Twins were common and triplets a regular event. And Jethro…his empathy had come from William. Mabel wouldn’t have understood his plight, but listening to the characteristics of her grandson, I had no doubt he suffered what Jethro did.