...the coast of Normandy... On a windswept promontory overlooking the restless waters of the Atlantic ocean a small priory is perched. Ocean waves crash against the cliffs, spray rising to mist the ancient stone walls, westerly winds howl and seep through thinly mortared rock. In a narrow monk’s bare cell, a naked man kneels on … Continue reading Chapter Eighty-Three, Tranquillitas ante tempestatem…(a deceptive calm before chaos), by Corso
Chapter Eighty, Poetic Justice, by Corso
Lucien takes the steps up to the ramparts two at a time, Benoit close behind him. He stops abruptly, surprised that the three boys, Olivier, Samy and Alexandre are there, huddling around Crotte listening intently as he holds forth on the merits of his cannon. “Now if M Fleury were here, he could tell ya’ … Continue reading Chapter Eighty, Poetic Justice, by Corso
Chapter Seventy-Eight, Enemies All Around, by Corso
…on the Santissima San Pedro de Arbues… A well-dressed man stands on the deck watching the Belladonna lower her sails and speaks to the man standing next to him. “You have your orders Tenientet. Keep your men armed. These,” he curls his lip at the Belldonna, “are Piratas astutos.” He walks to the cabin, knocks … Continue reading Chapter Seventy-Eight, Enemies All Around, by Corso
Chapter Seventy-Six, Ship of Shadows, by Corso
No one on this ship is who they seem to be. He lays awake in his hammock. He has the seaman’s trick of falling asleep as soon as he lays down, but he is plagued with blood-soaked dreams filled with fire and choking smoke, silent faceless men snarling as they chase him, others with mouths … Continue reading Chapter Seventy-Six, Ship of Shadows, by Corso
Chapter Seventy-Four, Dreams and Plans, by Corso
“Here you are,” Sophia leans against the door frame watching her husband rest his head against the back of the tub. The room is warm as steam rises from the hot water. She closes the door against the cool air and kneels beside the tub. She dips a hand into the water, dribbling it over … Continue reading Chapter Seventy-Four, Dreams and Plans, by Corso
Chapter Seventy-Three, Ars vivendi…by Corso
The art of living…is more like wrestling than dancing, Marcus Aurelius “Lastly Madame, the Comte de la Fere has reviewed the wine list ….” Marie listens with distracted attention to M Mael, faithful boutellier at the Château de Glénay, as was his father before him, serving her father, René de Vignerot de Pontcourlay, and her … Continue reading Chapter Seventy-Three, Ars vivendi…by Corso
Chapter Seventy-One, Scribe of the Soul, by Corso
Memory is the scribe of the soul…Aristotle She cannot sleep. Sophia lays awake, staring at the drape surrounding the bed. Days of snatching minutes of sleep from the passing hours, or an hour from a passing night. Athos had insisted and Lucien tapped his foot impatiently, and she thought that once she lay down, sleep … Continue reading Chapter Seventy-One, Scribe of the Soul, by Corso
Chapter Sixty-Nine, …Viam invenire vel facere… (find a way, or make one), by Corso
A ceiling of gray clouds flattens across the sky, a wall of fog hugging the coastline. Reefs lurk below the dark surface of the ocean, ready to thrust their rocky spires deep into the heart of a ship. In the cold air, the Galician pilot on the Belladona, Manoel, shivers as sweat trickles down his … Continue reading Chapter Sixty-Nine, …Viam invenire vel facere… (find a way, or make one), by Corso
Chapter Sixty-seven, Festina Lente (Make Haste Slowly), by Corso
…find a balance between speed and caution, move with purpose but without recklessness Benito d’ Soto never believed in coincidence. Before he opens the salon door, Lucien is certain that the arrival of Constance’s mother Lucille Demare and her brother Benoit is not a social visit. Whatever the trouble is at the Wrecks, he is … Continue reading Chapter Sixty-seven, Festina Lente (Make Haste Slowly), by Corso
Chapter Sixty-Five, Invisible Hand, by Corso
“What is that racket?” Lucien snaps open his spyglass and peers down the road. Yusuf looks through a more powerful telescope, mounted on a tripod and pointed in the same direction where a great cloud of dust is rising. “Kardes, I do believe our cannon is arriving,” “Father, are they here?” Samy, Olivier and Alexandre … Continue reading Chapter Sixty-Five, Invisible Hand, by Corso
Twelve Years After 