Pirate Souls

II - Chapter 14 - Survivors

No, nothing else matters. Only Florence.

To brave the cold night-time temperatures, Gwewa and I huddle against each other. She still frightens me but now and again I feel a degree of sympathy for the poor lunatic.

Even if she is free, her chances of survival in this white man's world are low. If they capture her, she will be sentenced to the gibbet for her crimes or sent to the fields to toil until she dies. And if she remains in piracy, brigands and freebooters will try to take possession of her body without ado. I nevertheless spare a thought for the wretched buccaneer who tries to get near her without fathoming her explosive character. The only solution is to leave. Florence, Gwewa and I. To go inland, where the savages live. I do not know if there is a place where the powerful of this world have not soiled them with their depraved morality.

A new quest. Another challenge. I am ready.

On the second evening, I tell Gwewa everything. About my life. The suffering I have borne. I speak in my mother tongue so I do not know if she understands my tale. She listens. Her warm eyes have the same virtues as the Aloe Vera. They soothe me. I tell her everything. For the first time in my life, I loosen up.

"Can I entrust you with a mission?" I ask when I have finished telling my dark account.

Her smile reveals teeth which shine yellow in the firelight.

"My physical condition..." I hesitate. "I have little chance of surviving... in these surroundings... If you find her, you will tell her, won't you?"

She nods her head approvingly.

"She must know what she has given me. My body may be in a sorry state, but now I am cured."

On the morning of the third day, it is time for us to leave our makeshift camp. If I have managed to survive in spite of my poor stamina, it must be the case for others. They will have information on our precise location and the best way to return to civilisation.

Gwewa follows me without a word. We move slowly forward along the seashore. We stop now and then in the shade of the trees when exhaustion submerges us.

My life has been a series of violent acts. My mother, the baker, Brian, Fisherman, the Anarkhia. I was caught in a vicious circle because I believed that there was nothing more to life than hatred and being abandoned.

My friendship with Cook was sincere even though it was self-interested. I advocated the pirate lifestyle and freedom to be able to do as I wanted. I wanted my fill of all the pleasures in life.

Like him. Guillaume Carpentier.

The first time we met, I had just stolen the Anarkhia. I was a rich young captain, proud of my exploits. My band of men remained in my wake. I assumed my role of leader and was respected by all.

Was it that then? Jealousy?

Yes, I was as proud and stupid as a peacock. I showed off my success and recently stolen gold. Carpentier wasn't more than twenty at the time. He got me into the port of New Orleans illegally. With his help, I offloaded barrels of rum under the noses of his fellow officers. I paid him well for his services.

That same evening, we drank together and I seem to remember that I paid for one or two whores for him. I just laughed. I spent the evening drinking and making merry. I ended up in the arms of a pretty redhead whose body was not too ravaged by age and the hard life of the settlers.

It is true that a small incident occurred. I was as drunk as a lord and I still cannot recall all the details. I was fucking my carrot-head in a room adjoining the brothel. No, I would not have cared to do it in public. I think the officer came into the room in the hope of joining the party. Not being attracted to orgies, I calmly told him to get lost. Cook tottered in and dragged him outside. Is that what this is all about? Was he vexed for such a trifle? Has he been planning his dark revenge ever since because I refused to share the damsel?