Never Surrender (Uncharted Secrets, Book 4): Endless Horizon Pirate Stories by Cristi Taijeron

Author:Cristi Taijeron [Taijeron, Cristi]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2015-02-23T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

Silenced by Revenge

Waking from a terrible nightmare where I was surrounded by death, drenched in blood, and weighted down by heavy, heavy chains, I shot up in my hammock. Inhaling a startled gasp of air, I ended up choking on the rancid odor filling the place. Good Lord, these snoring hogs smelled awful. Sniffing my own armpit I realized I was an equal offender of the stench. As soon as we get to Portugal I shall find a way to take a hot bath, I thought, as I lay back down. But there was no rest to be found. The gunshot wound on my arm ached and burned, and though the doctor had stitched me up well enough, there were still splinters of wood lodged in my leg.

Coming to terms with the fact that sleep was not mine for the taking, I hopped out of my hammock, grabbed a bottle of rum, and headed for the deck. Perhaps a breath of fresh air would do me good.

In the dark of the night I made my way to the moonlit deck.

After letting the watchman know what I was up to, I took a seat near the starboard gunnel where the moon shone brightest. What a beautiful night it was. The crisp air was chilly, but the wind was light. Bundled up in my battered red coat, I leaned back and enjoyed the view. In the mystic blue glow the timbers looked clean and even, the rigging lines made for a lovely black web over the light blue sky, and the neatly furled sails seemed extraordinarily white. The reflection of the moon streamed unbroken across the ever moving face of the sea, and the stars in the distance flickered like little pixies lighting the night.

While staring into the endless horizon, I thought about the way I used to compare my mother to the moonlight on the bay. Like this scene before me, she gave just enough light to entice the imagination without showing anything for what it truly was. The moon itself reminded me of her lovely face, and the luminescent glow was like her white-blonde hair, but most importantly, the darkness surrounding the entire scene resembled the cloak she shielded her secrets with.

Ah, Midnight, the mysterious artist of the sea. I thought of her daily. For had it not been for the things she had taught me, I’d never have survived this long. But tonight, in the silence, I thought of Hannah. The woman who sang to me when I was a babe and told me stories as a child. Remembering how pleasant it was resting in her embrace, feeling the vibration of her lovely voice as she soothed my soul with her enchanting melodies, my heart began to ache. Those days seemed so long ago, yet remained so clear in my heart. Where was she now? What was she doing?

I missed her so deeply my eyes began to water, which led me to think back on all the times my father, Thomas, had dried my tears.

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