‘What ship is that!’ Odysseus shouts up to Crotte, high overhead above the lookout. Crotte looks down, not at Odysseus, but at a head poking tentatively through the lubber’s hole. ‘That’s it pup! Keep coming,’ he encourages the sailor climbing tentatively through the hole and into the lookout. The ‘pup’ grips the sides, his legs … Continue reading Chapter Forty-Four, Corsairs of St Malo, by Corso
Chapter Forty-Two, The Belladona Problem, by Corso
‘Wait!’ Ver and Loup stop in mid stride and turn around. Lucien stands close to his horse, hands on the saddle poised to mount. He stares, without seeing, across the inn’s rear yard. What is it that makes him hesitate? Only a few moments earlier he had been decisive. A man resembling Radu – a … Continue reading Chapter Forty-Two, The Belladona Problem, by Corso
Chapter Thirty-Nine, The Right Man, by Corso
The tavern is filling with working men looking for a drink and a game of cards or dice before returning to their homes and wives. There is a general murmur of conversation punctuated with a raucous laugh or shout of disbelief at a story or unlikely luck with the dice. On one side of the … Continue reading Chapter Thirty-Nine, The Right Man, by Corso
Chapter Thirty-Eight, Ghosts of La Rochelle, by Corso
At the thin border between night and dawn, bird song is tentative, the full chorus to a new day wait for light. Marie de Combalet lays quietly in her bed, dark behind bed drapes closed against a chilly morning. The intermittent singing notes tell her the hour is late enough for Lucien to be already … Continue reading Chapter Thirty-Eight, Ghosts of La Rochelle, by Corso
Chapter Thirty-Seven, Home, by Mordaunt
“My love, I no longer fear writing these words. My most precious love, There is no suffering worse than being separated from you, but what you have suffered I cannot fathom; what you may be suffering still. Louis–it is his pride that drives him, my love, and you know his pride well, for we instilled … Continue reading Chapter Thirty-Seven, Home, by Mordaunt
Chapter Thirty-Six, The Past is Prologue, by Corso
"What's past is prologue" William Shakespeare, The Tempest, Act 2-Scene 1 ‘Do not attack the Belladona,’ Raoul repeats in clipped tones. Lucien turns to him, brows raised. He crosses his arms over his chest. ‘Are you …telling me to not attack the Belladona?’ Lucien eyes narrow speculatively, ‘who is asking this of me?’ ‘I am,’ … Continue reading Chapter Thirty-Six, The Past is Prologue, by Corso
Chapter Thirty-Five, Harsh Recountings, by Mordaunt
Some men say an army of horses and some men say an army on foot and some men say an army of ships is the most beautiful thing on the black earth. But I say it is what you love. (Sappho, 16 transl. by Anne Carson) The journey returning from Saintonge to Glénay takes longer. They … Continue reading Chapter Thirty-Five, Harsh Recountings, by Mordaunt
Chapter Thirty-four, Bitter Victory, by Corso
‘Where is Alessandra?’, ‘… in hell where she belongs.. your whore … tossed over a cliff… rotting… food for the crows and vultures…you all failed...she laughs victorious, vindictive in his face ……black, cold rage surges, Lucien grips her neck tighter… a tiny increment of pressure and he will crush her neck, her eyes are swiveling … Continue reading Chapter Thirty-four, Bitter Victory, by Corso
Chapter Thirty-Three, Revenge and Retribution, by Mordaunt
“Coward! You hide behind the skirts of a murdering whore. Following her around like a dog on a leash. What hold does she have over you?” “Where is Alessandra?” “I forget that’s her name now. The vile murdering whore who killed your brother!” “Not my brother. The brute who attacked her. Where is she?” “You … Continue reading Chapter Thirty-Three, Revenge and Retribution, by Mordaunt
Chapter Thirty-Two The Whip of Justice, by Corso
Tremble, thou wretch,That hast within thee undivulged crimesUnwhipped of justice. (Shakespeare, King Lear) Athos aims his boot at the heavy oak door, it flies open, and he rushes into a chaotic scene, Lucien hard on his heels. Bullets ricochet, the harsh bite of exploding gunpowder stings his nose. He gulps air coughing and choking on … Continue reading Chapter Thirty-Two The Whip of Justice, by Corso
