THE SAILS OF THE HIGH SEAS

- Chapter 1 -

In a room lit by softly glowing lamps, one standing behind his grand chair, sat a man experienced in age, yet not burdened by the years that were given to him by Fate. He watched the fire in the fireplace before him, and smiled into the flickers of bright orange flames that danced above the fire. Though his youth had passed long ago, he did not feel that it fled his heart at all, nor did he regret the limited time he may have had left upon his head covered with hair of silvery white.

As he sat comfortably, he kept his hand on a book laying on the wooden side table next to the chair. He carved the side table himself, much like many other items throughout his lifetime. Some things he carved out of necessities, some as a hobby. But this side table carried a special meaning to him, therefore he cherished it and kept it beside his favorite chair in his favorite room - the reading room.

One may ask why this room held such a special place in the man's heart? It did so, because it held within its walls books upon books of tales of the olden days, of the times when good trumped over evil, of the stories of bravery of ordinary men ready to fight for their country, their purpose, and the conviction in their heart that life was worth fighting for. It also held books of stories written about one man in particular. A brave man, a courageous man, a noble man who listened to his heart and became a pirate to give hope of freedom to those of broken spirit. That brave hero was a man of pure heart himself. He had one purpose, one vision in his mind of what a world filled with justice should look like. He had one name, which ignited passion in those who knew him. Whether that passion was fueled by admiration or hatred depended on which side of justice one chose to belong to.

That man was Sandokan...

Preoccupied by his thoughts, the man hadn't noticed when the doors of the room opened, and his butler, a dear longtime friend of his - younger from him by no more than three months, walked in with a group of young children. They were all happy to see him, and more than eager to hear more of the stories he was so accustomed to share with them.

"Uncle Yanez! Uncle Yanez! We couldn't wait to see You!" Exclaimed a boy of seven years old. He was the youngest of them, and considered the man's stories to be of utmost importance in his life. He also considered them to be of irrefutable truth and validity.

"Welcome children! I have waited for Your arrival as well," Yanez smiled sincerely and spread his arms in a welcoming manner.

"How are You, dear uncle?" Said the eldest girl. She cherished Yanez, even more so because she was aware of his frail health all the while she admired his strength and strong will.

"I am quite well, my sweet Anjali. I thank You for asking, and the care in Your words," Yanez smiled at her.

"That is good to hear. It is always such a treasure to be able to visit You and see You in good health," Anjali smiled back at her uncle.

"Your words bring forth more healing than any medicine known to men ever could, my dear child," Yanez thanked Anjali for her kind words, and nodded at the butler to bring them the refreshments.

"I was so sad when Our mother told Us we had to wait weeks to see You," the little boy pouted at Yanez. "And now that we are finally here, I cannot wait to hear Your stories."

"Would You really look forward to hearing me speak of the stories written in these ancient books, my dear Kabir?" Yanez leaned forward a bit, laid his elbow on his knee, and smiled mischievously at the little boy.

"Of course! You tell the best of stories! And the books I like the most cannot be that old. You wrote them, after all," the boy grinned at his uncle.

"Not that old, huh?" Yanez bellowed out a laugh that echoed through the halls. So much so that it caused a smile to appear on the butler's face as he brought in a tray with tea and an assortment of cookies.

"Should I set up the refreshments in the outdoor parlor, or would You be more comfortable here, Sir?" The butler asked.

"Here. Most definitely here. And don't You 'Sir' me, Farhan. I am not THAT old," Yanez grinned at the butler as he winked at Kabir.

"As You wish, Sir..." Farhan said and grinned at the children, then gestured toward the tray placed on the coffee table standing beside the fireplace. "Please, enjoy."

"Thank You, my friend. Please, enjoy," Yanez repeated after Farhan, and gestured toward the tray. "Only the finest tea and cookies in the land for my guests."

"Thank You, uncle," all the children nodded and then rushed toward the tray set on the finest china. All, except for little Kabir.

Yanez raised his eyebrow at the boy. "Not hungry, even after the long ride? I would assume the carriage ride would be comfortable for You, but it should have also made You hungry?"

"I would rather hear one of Your stories," Kabir smiled from ear to ear.

"Hungry for knowledge rather than the food in Your belly?" Yanez smiled.

"That's right! I can eat anytime, but I do not get to see You often enough!" The boy exclaimed.

"In that case, You shall get to pick the story this evening," Yanez said, pointing at Kabir, and narrowed his eyes at him.

"Me?" Kabir choked up.

"Why not? Even little boys can change the course of history." Yanez clasped his hands on his knees, and looked at Kabir even more intently. "So, what shall it be, my brave boy?"

The boy looked around the room, as if searching for a book on the many bookshelves. Yanez watched him intently, and knew the moment Kabir found what he was looking for. There was something enchanting that flashed across the boy's eyes. Excitement? Recognition? A thrill of anticipation of the story that awaited him?

As Kabir walked up toward his uncle, Yanez narrowed his eyebrows, and decided to follow the boy's gaze, which did not fall upon him, but somewhere beside him. If the boy could understand his uncle's pride as he reached for the lavishly covered book laying on the side table next to him. Then again, Yanez realized that Kabir understood him better than he may have given him credit for.

The boy picked up the book with a bright orange cover, held it in his hands as if he were holding the most valuable treasure, then passed it to Yanez. Before he let go of the book, Kabir ran his fingers gently over the face of a tiger embroidered on its front. He wasn't just grateful to be able to hear the story, he was grateful to be able to hold the book in his hands, even if only for that one moment.

"Well, now, my dear Kabir. You seem to have chosen a book as long in pages as I am old in years," Yanez grinned. "But, so be it. I have time for it if You do."

"Yes, uncle! Of course we do!" Exclaimed all the children. They gathered around him on the carpet, and nodded in excitement among each other.

"Alright, my dear Kabir," Yanez turned toward Kabir and looked at him with excitement as well. "'The Adventures of Sandokan' speaks of many stories of his bravery and of his unwavered will for fight for justice. Which story would You choose? Where should we start?"

"At the beginning!" Kabir replied, with pride and gleam in his eyes.

"So be it. The beginning. And do You all recall how the story began?" Yanez leaned in and all bit whispered the words to make it more enjoyable to those who gathered around him.

"How?" Anjali asked her uncle with a smile on her face, to which he looked up, smiled back, and nodded.

"It all began as all pirate stories begin... It began with a grand battle of ships - and a betrayal..."