Vowess

1.

"I plan to reach the Azores in three weeks." These are James words once they left the grey smokes of London behind them. "Then the Atlantic calm winter waters will navigate us to the Free Fifteen." That was the plan. And they indeed arrive in Azores. Soon the news reached out Colonnade. He was expecting the man longing for the meeting. But rumours spread for those who shouldn't know as well. It didn't last long since the Company of East India send someone to take Delaney out of the game once and for all. They wouldn't stay in the Azores more than the necessary time for the exchange. Powder for gold.

The crew was awaiting but James didn't return to them that day. They looked for him in the taverns,in the streets,the brothels or even Colonnade's house but there's no sign of him. He was laying deeply cut and wounded in one of the Southern shores of the island. Bleeding to death, attacked by five this time. This time they wouldn't miss. This time Delaney would find his end and the Company would find the powder and the rest of the crew to drag them back to London. They would meet the gallows before the King.

Losing his counsciousness he closed his eyes and fell into darkness, welcoming the end there on the sea shore. But few men, fishermen were passing by and they noticed the man. Blood everywhere, but he was breathing. Quickly they gathered his body and they carried him to the local nunery. At least if he dies, he'll die woth god's blessing, they crossed themselves, when they were leaving nunnery and the only person by Delaney's side was a young nun. Her lips were moving, while she was cleaning his wounds. She was praying. Asking for god to lead her hands, praying for man's soul. Ink on his skin at first scared her, but to judge person was not in her nature. To love even my enemies, to love everybody and to bring help and comfort to dying. Blessed be your soul, stranger. Fear no death for on the other side our Lord Saviour is awaiting, she thought, when she was sewing the wound. Her movements steady, she wasn't nervous, only focused deeply on her work. She had faith, yes she believed, that whatever will happen, will be God's will. His wound was clean and sewed. His skin washed and she covered him with bandages and blanket. Then she sat down on a chair by the fire, took chaplet with cross to her hand and she began to pray again.

All that while James was floating on his painful vomiting and nauseatingly dream. A step between reality and illusion. A weak pat from his lashes permit him to see. The white attorned figure, like a foggy shadow in the darkness. Whispers and words. In the fever rising he couldn't tell what kind of language was it. If the person was real or not. But then he gave in into the pain and shut his heavy lits. Then another figure came to accompany his fever dream. An angel. Why i see angels,he wondered looking at her heaven promising face. And the flamed adored hair coating her shoulders. Dressed in moonlight and stars. If this is hell, I'd make sure to die sooner,he thought again.

He was in deep sleep for few days. Nun took care of him, cleaned the wound, change bandages, fed him with a soup she prepared everyday for him. When he in delusional murmurs spoke in strange language, she only held his hand and prayed more. "Lord, make me an instrument of your peace," she whispered one day in the morning, closing her eyes as she wiped Delaney's face with wet cloth, observing his face. "Grant that I may
not so much seek to be consoled as to console," she whispered and fixed blanket on his chest. "It will be alright, rest," she added softly.

But his shut eyelids moved fastly. Inside his mind renewing the scene of his death. The stabs,the blades cutting him again and again making his body jerk and his grunt. Tossing and turning from side to side until his demon to persuade his dreams appeared. All these he had lost,his mother pushing him into the deep waters,the dead face of his cold father,the floating dead body of his sister. Then the blades again. The burning sun of Africa. His saviour. The slavery. All of them in peculiar order coming in again and again until he set himself awake grabbing the nun's hand mistaking it for his attackers or his ghosts. He was panting with eyes wide open looking up at her face. "Who are you?" He asked coldly.