The Curse of Blackbane Chapters 2 - 5
Chapter 2As the sun rose in the east, the morning screech of gulls remained unusually quiet. The weather was fair, and a fresh breeze swept in from the ocean. Captain Blackbane paced along the rampart at the top of the convent wall, which overlooked the town of Faro. Covered in blood and gore, the man still carried an inner fury. Despite the torture and deaths of the women, he failed to discover the Gold Room. The rising sun informed him he was out of time. He must return to his ship with nothing to show for the expedition beyond a few barrels of wine and the surviving nuns as slaves. The haul of slaves would bring some silver for him and the crew. However, it wasn’t enough. It would not be enough to satisfy that greedy bastard, Hamidu! Blackbane convinced the Muslim corsair fleet leader to join him on this invasion of the Portuguese coast. Promises of great riches persuaded Hamidu to bring along his ships. Blackbane recognized his precarious position in the adventure. Hamidu would use this failure against him when they returned to Tunis. Both men were under the control of the Beylik, a Muslim who remained wary of the pirate from America. Hamidu was a Turk like the Beylik who made no pretense of his feelings about Blackbane and his men. He hated non-believers. A wrong move would mean the downfall of the captain and his men. As Blackbane wrestled with his limited options, he barely noticed two men passing on the road leading to the convent. Bingham hurried back to the convent with a message for his captain. A pirate quickly saluted Bingham as he passed by the first mate. Bingham growled, impatiently telling the man to get back to the ship. Probably scavenging inside for anything his crewmates missed! The first mate turned his thoughts back to the crew of misfits and outcasts. He held the suspicion that many of the men had no loyalty to their captain. Bingham believed Hamidu made promises that led to unrest among the crew. Since the Diano Marina arrived at Tunis, the Turk sent replacements from Hamidu’s captured ships. Bingham warned Blackbane that the new men held their loyalty to the Muslim corsair. However, the captain reminded his first mate that there was little he could do. The ship always needed men to replace those killed or who left after successful raids along the coast of Corsica the year before. After all, any buccaneer could leave the ship with their share of a prize as a freeman. Some even stayed in Tunis to become merchants or slave traders. Arriving at the entrance to the convent, Bingham noticed Captain Blackbane staring out at the ocean from the ramparts. The first mate called out in Arabic from the ground below. “We need to return to the Diano Marina. Hamidu signals for us to rejoin his fleet. I have the ship ready for sailing. What are your orders?” Bingham’s voice broke through his captain’s thoughts. Blackbane took a deep breath and nodded. “Aye, I’ll be coming back aboard. Wait for me at the jolly boat.” The captain went to the stairs, deciding to take one last journey through the silent convent. Entering the long, quiet hall, he passed a line of open cells with bedding and clothing strewn into the passage. Still deep in thought, Blackbane almost missed the quiet groan and the creak of a wood he heard inside a room. He stopped, placing his hand on the hilt of his karabela. A deathly silence covered the area as he stealthily slid along the wall to the entrance of a room. Carefully, Blackbane went to the doorway. Glancing inside, he saw a chair and a simple table with a single candle. Then he noticed a foot move from behind the overturned bed. With practiced precision, he pulled his sword from the scabbard and rushed into the room. He went to the foot of the bed and saw a partially naked figure covered in blood on the floor. Blackbane reached down as the plump woman curled up in a fetal position. She begged for mercy. “Get up, wench,” he told her brutally. He grabbed her by her long auburn hair. “You’ll serve a new master now.” Blackbane brutally pulled her to her feet. She screamed in agony, falling against the wall while desperately holding back the blood from her wound. “Too bad you’re already dead. He sliced through your liver,” Blackbane coldly looked her over. With a frown, he released her while cursing the pirate, who lost him a fair bit of gold. She stared at him for a moment; her round face twisted in a mix of terror and agony. “Know the name of the man who raped and killed you?” he asked her. “I’ll have him flogged for this. You would bring a fair price in Tunis.” “Have mercy, captain. I beg you. Don’t let me die without the viaticum. Send for a priest to help me go to God,” she pleaded. “It’s too late for that,” the big man said grimly. “It wouldn’t matter, anyway; damnation is your destination, just like the rest of us.” Blackbane turned away. The nun suddenly yelled at him while reaching for him. Instinctively, the captain caught her body. His reaction knocked his sword from his hand. Still holding her, he kneeled with her as she slid to the floor. When the captain tried to rise, her bloody hands suddenly reached up and grabbed him by his coat lapels. With unbelievable strength, she pulled him close. Despite the man’s struggle to force her away, the woman’s face drew close. Blackbane stared into her eyes. Their unnatural glimmer revealed a resigned madness. “Captain Blackbane, you will carry your foul sins for eternity,” the nun whispered in a deathly voice that chilled him. Again, the captain tried to push her away, a frantic feeling coming over him. Still, she held on! Despite the struggle, the woman used her index finger to trace a bloody symbol on his neck. “Damn you, let go of me,” he growled out as the panic grew inside of him. With a death gasp, the woman released him, and her body fell limply to the floor. Blackbane staggered back to the corner of the room, falling into the wall. A searing pain shot through him from the spot where the nun touched his throat. The fire-like agony covered his upper body like a blanket, enveloping him in an overwhelming sense of being roasted alive. Blackbane pitched forward while he desperately grabbed at his neck with both hands. He rolled back and forth, moaning and groaning, while his body trembled uncontrollably from the scorching anguish. It seemed like hours before the agony slowly faded away. Sweat covered the captain when he finally regained his awareness. Lying on the stone floor next to the dead woman, he rolled away from the body. Staring into the room’s corner, a glint deep in the darkness of a square opening caught his eye. At first, he did not comprehend what he was looking at. Then he realized. That’s where she was trying to escape! Barely large enough for a person to slide through, the dark square entrance revealed a shimmering flicker coming from the blackness inside. Slowly, Blackbane realized the nun must have heard him, and she was trying to hide. The sound of her opening the panel caught his attention. Drained by the pain earlier, Blackbane slowly crawled closer. A wooden panel lay across the floor in front of him. It hid the opening from those searching for the next room. Then, he recognized a faint light in the darkness, deep inside the entrance. A candle! What in blazes is in there? The captain picked up his sword and pushed the blade past the entrance. He heard the scraping of the steel across the stone, and his eyes beheld a single candle at the other end of a cut stone pathway. A hidden passageway! No longer feeling the pain in his neck, Blackbane became entranced by the hidden passage. Scrambling through the opening, he came into a tunnel that opened up above him. He lifted himself into a crouch. The flickering candle ahead of him showed the low, vaulted ceiling of cut stones. His bearded face grimly smiled as he moved toward the candle. Reaching the end of the passage, he found steps leading down into the darkness. The captain picked up the candle, then paused. If the nun was trying to get in here, who lit this and left it? A shiver ran through him, but his face twisted into a deadly expression. He saw a door at the bottom of the steps. “Someone is in for a surprise!” He thought. Blackbane quietly followed the steps until he reached the entrance. He pulled back on the rusted handle. However, the door didn’t budge. With a firm tug, the door finally gave way with a nerve-racking squeal as the rusty hinges opened. Inching forward with the candle held out in front of him, Blackbane noticed dark shadows in the room. Then he saw something gleaming gold. Licking his lips at the thought, he stepped forward. However, the first wood step gave way, and the man fell into the murky chamber. Chapter 3Landing on a stone floor, Blackbane grabbed his knee in pain while he heard his sword clatter across the rock several feet away. After a couple of deep breaths, the man looked around. The candle remained lit on its side next to him. A dimly lit outline of a statue came into view as the man picked up his light. He slowly rose and stared at the face of the archangel Remiel who scowled down at him. Blackbane knew his bible well enough to recognize the angel was a fallen Watcher and one that God who led those that rose from the dead when Judgement Day arrived. The stone statue’s fine detail showed him a muscular figure with wings that appeared lifelike. Dressed in armor, the angel held a sword in one hand and a staff in the other. The staff had a crystal orb at the top that looked like an eye for a moment. The eerie sensation of being watched in the flickering light caused the hairs on the back of Blackbane’s neck to rise. “Another statue to scare the children,” he scoffed. “Old Captain Hornigold told me about your fairy tales.” As he looked around, he saw more statues of the archangels. Michael, Raphael, Gabriel, Uriel, Saraqael, and Raguel were standing on pedestals in a circle around him. Each angel held a weapon in their hand, and their forms had the same level of lifelike details. On the opposite side of the entrance, he briefly noticed the door to a tunnel. It explained how the statues got into the room. However, a large object in the middle of the circle captured his attention. Covered with a dry-rotted tarp, a shimmer of golden color came through the decaying holes. Blackbane reached out his hand, then drew it back at the sudden intense pain in his neck again. Still, the greed inside him won out. He tugged at the tarp, and it fell away. Blackbane stepped back in silent awe. A giant golden cross stood over him. Elaborately engraved with Greek and Roman letters, it beckoned to Blackbane. His heart raced as he considered the treasure. There was enough gold on the cross to pay for a fleet of ships and more pirate crew. I can create my barony somewhere! Blackbane stared at the treasure before him. He stepped closer, blinking his eyes to ensure that the golden cross was not a mirage. The man reached out and touched the cross. He felt the cold metal as he slowly slid his fingers across the beam. Again, the fire in his neck increased, and Blackbane slowly retreated. As he admired his find, the pirate did not hear the soft sounds behind him. The statue of Remiel moved. Barely perceptible at first, the hard stone slowly transformed, rippling as the figure’s flesh became flexible. The angel quietly took a step off its podium. Remiel walked closer to the pirate captain until he was just behind the man. The angel cocked his head as he observed Blackbane staring transfixed at the golden cross. A moment later, the captain felt the agony of a sword blade entering his back. He looked down to see the silver blade sticking out of his belly. Blackbane fell to his knees, grabbing the cross while he slid to the floor. The captain clutched his stomach before falling to the floor. He rolled to his side in agony. He glanced at his shaking hands, but there was no blood on them. Still, the intense fire in his belly remained, along with the dizziness that filled his brain. He frantically opened his vest and ripped his shirt to expose his abdomen. There was no wound. “How can I be dying?” he wondered aloud. The figure of Remiel stepped next to Blackbane. He rolled the dying man over on his back using his foot. The angel’s skin carried the alabaster color of the stone in the room while his face held no emotion. Remiel placed the staff, holding the eye directly in the center of Blackbane’s chest. “The man called William Marshall is dying. Your soul is damned, and your earthly body dies at the stroke of my sword.” The angel’s eyes gleamed with a blazing blue-white fire. “You’ve done a terrible evil against the chaste and righteous in this world. You will suffer eternal punishment. I’ll let you covet this gold cross with your dying breath before I give you to the legions of Hell.” Blackbane stared up at Remiel. Then, to the surprise of the angel, the man let out a foul laugh. His voice crackled with bitterness. “You think I’m afraid of Hell. Since my whore mother cast me into the street, I know how worthless a soul is,” the dying man spat out viciously. He laughed again, then groaned as he grabbed the staff. Blackbane tried to push it away, but he didn’t have the strength. “You say that we’re built in the image of God. That means everyone is a bastard for hellfire, just like me.” Remiel looked at the unrepentant human at his feet; his eyes raged with fury. The angel kicked Blackbane. The man painfully rolled away with a groan. “Blackbane sides with the demons who recognize people are nothing more than foul vermin,” the captain cried out with an agonized glee. “Tis my happiness to see a Watcher bellowing at me. I state my case that the devil knows my black heart comes from watching self-righteous jesters like you. I only regret not living long enough to kill and rape more. Give me that sword, and I’d happily cut down you damned messengers of God.” His lungs heaved as he gasped for the air to cough out a laugh. Perturbed, the angel turned away. He paced back and forth. Remiel kept glancing over at the captain. Blackbane attempted to lift himself, then fell back to the floor. He smiled with confidence at thwarting the angel who killed him. “You son of a bitch, I fear nothing. I’ll die, but I’ll never cower before you wretched kneelers to a petty god of nothing.” The captain smugly sighed as he felt death creep through his body. The angel stopped his pacing at the foot of Michael’s statue. “He believes he knows much about pain and suffering. Perhaps God should reveal a bitter truth to his black heart?” After a pause, the angel nodded in agreement with the inanimate stone figure. He turned to the pirate with a foul smile. “Mortal called Blackbane. This will not end as you foresee,” Remiel said. “God has another plan for you. The merciful Lord sends you on a different path, a destiny filled with torment far beyond what you can even comprehend.” “Let’s get this over with,” the dying man coughed out. “Just send me to hell, so I don’t have to listen to your babbling nonsense.” Blackbane let his head fall back on the hard stone. He was ready to meet the devil and give him an earful. “Ignorant fool, you don’t understand,” the angel gloated. “You believe you know your fate. However, you’re in for a rude surprise. In your lust for wealth and envy for power, you believe that having an inherently evil soul would achieve your goal. That is never the case. Every mortal carries a soul of grace. Now, you will learn the lessons of eternal salvation through a trial.” Remiel’s hideous smile widened. “Your earthly body will not perish on this morning.” Blackbane felt his muscles surge at the news. He looked over at Remiel with disbelief filling his face. The statue came back and kneeled by the man. The foul grin remained. “Instead of death, you will now live as an immortal creature,” the angel said. “God cursed you. But your lust for treasure will condemn you to seek treasure for Him alone. Only then can you find salvation.” “What the hell are you talking about?” Blackbane flexed his arms and eased his legs along the ground. “You claim that I’m condemned? Next you’re telling me I’ve got a pardon. Such righteous fools!” He raised himself to his elbows. The area on his neck where the nun touched him still burned like fire. However, he no longer felt the suffocating lack of air in his lungs. Energy surged into his body. He’s letting me live. God is such a fool! “The Lord is not the fool, William Marshall. You are!” Remiel exploded. “No, you don’t have a pardon. You have something suitable for your bitter soul. I told you that you’re cursed.” “Hell, I’ve been cursed from the start! God is a jester if he thinks I care about nonsense like that,” the man sneered. “No wonder the devil wins all the time.” The angel backhanded the pirate. “You have read the scriptures,” Remiel reminded him. “I bring about divine visions. I foresee a future of unbearable violence and blood for William Marshall as he wonders the earth.” “You are no longer the hunter; instead, others will hunt you. Every corner where you turn will lead only to cruelty, heartbreak, and suffering for you. This is the curse of Blackbane.” “Hardly a burden,” Blackbane stated confidently. “I’m still determining my fate.” “You believe so?” Remiel cocked his head as he stood. “Quite foolish thinking, you know. Your newfound immortality brings more sorrow than you can imagine. Inside of you is an energy that all demons seek. Soon, the seven deadliest demons will hunt you. The energy inside your essence will give them something they cherish. An ability to create more creatures of the night to plague mankind.” Remiel reached down and grabbed Blackbane by the collar of his coat. He picked the man up effortlessly with one arm and then poked his finger into the captain’s neck. Blackbane instantly screamed out in pain. His body shuddered and convulsed while he hung in the air. “You believe you carry no conscience. But from this day forward, you learn that your past forever haunts you. The dead will return to madden you. There is no refuge from your continuous nightmare. It is the burden you will carry until Judgement Day.” “But I’m working for God now. You said so,” the man replied with disdain. “I could suddenly get religion.” “God condemned you to live until doomsday,” Remiel sneered and dropped Marshall, who fell to his knees. “Apparently, you’re not intelligent enough to realize your plight. God just placed your soul between good and evil. He left you with no entry into heaven or hell. Should you give yourself up to the demons, they will rip you apart for the immortality inside of your body. Your body becomes a vessel for them to use as they please. You’ve seen what a spider does to a fly. That is your existence when you give yourself to one of the seven.” The angel smiled at the thought. “Think about it! Conscious and aware of everything these many foul creatures do and think, yet your very soul remains part of those creatures. Your living soul will intertwine with every demon that suckles upon your immortal energy. It’s such a fitting end to your existence, William Marshall.” Blackbane didn’t like the way Remiel laughed at him before he walked back to the pedestal. “Wait! You said my immorality brings demons to plague man. How can an angel do this?” The angel ignored the question as he stepped onto the platform. The holy creature turned to address to the prone man. “You can’t get to heaven either. A few Hail Marys will not cleanse your soul. I’m confident you will never purge your foul spirit, given your lust for the unattainable. Blackbane becomes nothing more than a ghost, fleeing creatures that want to consume them. You search for golden items that you will never keep.” Remiel’s form slowly took the same position as a statue. “The only way you get out of this curse is live until Judgement Day. You do that, and maybe God will find you a place in his kingdom.” He paused and grinned at the captain. “I wouldn’t hold my breath.” With a snap of the angel’s fingers, the room temperature plummeted. Dark shadows rose from the floor. The shades slowly morphed into figures of men and women; their pale faces indistinct at first. After a moment, the specters closed around the pirate captain. Instantly, he recognized them. He was looking into the faces of those people he killed. Ghosts aren’t real, just figments of my mind. Frightened, Blackbane rose and slowly backed away. He hurried toward the door. Then, the beautiful face of Emma Watson pulled in front of him. The ghastly specter hovered in front of him. No! It was the spirit of his first love and his first murder. Her face transformed into a grinning skull. Her spectral form rushed into his body, overwhelming him with an icy chill that enveloped his insides. The frost painfully burned his belly while his lungs felt heavy. It was the agonizing sensation of falling into a vat of ice water. This is your baptism! Blackbane wasn’t sure if it was his voice that he heard in his head. Suddenly, the black-hearted scourge of the high seas remembered the night of his first coldly calculated killing. Replaying each moment, he witnessed and felt everything as the victim of the murder. Over the next hour, he endured the entirety of Emma’s tragic experiences. His body and mind endured the savage rape, followed by the agonizing death by strangulation. Blackbane tried to scream as his face turned blue. Eventually, he died only to be reborn when the woman’s phantom finished with him. Gasping for breath, Blackbane lay on the floor. He noticed the other specters watching him. He frantically crawled across the ground. A hovering figure of a boy cut off the captain’s desperate escape. He Blackbane did not remember the face. “You murdered me for a shilling on the docks of Jamaica,” a youthful voice reminded the killer. The specter shot inside Blackbane, and his body trembled with pain. Then, the man witnessed his escapes in the dark alley near the docks. A drunken captain demanded the child’s last shilling. After he listened to the young boy’s refusal, Blackbane felt the crushing pain of his arm as his shadowed grabbed him. Then, an instant later, he looked down at the blood spreading across his belly as the shadow released him and walked away with a shilling in his hand. Blackbane held on to his stomach while he dropped into the filthy muck. The pirate experienced all the agony of the boy’s death, while nearby sailors walked on, drunk and unfeeling. The line of souls who died at the hands of Blackbane continued their slow march of vengeance and justice. Each entered his mind and body to force the arrogant one to suffer each terrible death they suffered. An eternity later, the mother superior of the abbey stood in front of the curled-up pirate. No longer the ruthless pirate captain; instead, Blackbane was a broken man. His pale face covered in snot and tears. Verging on madness, he begged and pleaded with the last phantom to end his life. The woman smiled, then entered his body for his next dreadful lesson. Chapter 4Several weeks later, inside his stinking cell, Blackbane added another roach to his small meal. With no money and nearly all of his silver buttons gone, the former captain of the Diano Marina could no longer bribe the guards. Instead, he resorted to capturing whatever crawled or scurried inside his six-by-six stone room. His daily existence composed of waking to hunger and thirst while hoping his weekly ration of stale bread and foul water would arrive. Days no longer meant anything to the condemned man except the vain hope that the executioner would come. Otherwise, Blackbane sat on the dirty stone floor of a cell buried deep inside a fortress between the sea and the lagoon of Tunis. He tried to think of a way out of his prison. The prisoner also tried to avoid sleep. As promised by Remiel, sleep only brought the reoccurring visits from his ghosts. The men of the Diano Marina found Blackbane wandering the beach that morning during their search. Their captain was on his knees in the sand, bitterly crying for revenge and vengeance as he stared up into the heavens. Blackbane shouted curses at God, barely making sense. He ranted about archangels and immortality as they forced him into the boat. Hamidu was already waiting aboard the Diano Marina and ordered Blackbane thrown into chains for the return trip to Tunis. When the ships arrived in port, Hamidu sent Blackbane to the court of the Beylik of Tunis. A fat man with a long white beard and a dozen wives, the Beylik controlled most of the tribes and cities in the area. Despite several years of successful raids that brought a fortune of gold, silver, and slaves to his lands, the ruler gave no sympathy to Blackbane. While he stood in chains before the ruler of Tunis, the Beylik condemned the former captain as an apostate. The Beylik decided Blackbane’s insanity came from many lies told about the whereabouts of the gold cross in the convent. Several crew members of Diano Marina went before the court to agree with Hamidu’s charges. His mind still rattled from his experiences, Blackbane barely paid attention to the words. After the Beylik accepted Hamidu’s offer of two young nuns for his harem, the ruler sent the condemned captain away. “Be grateful that you will die from the blade of an ax when I command it,” the Beyik told Blackbane with feigned sympathy. “To die behind the oar as a galley slave is not worthy of a fighter like you.” “Peki, ya siz ya da Tanrı sonuçtan şaşıracaksınız! Gördüğüm laneti hissedebiliyor musun?” Blackbane gave the ruler an excited grin when he replied in the man’s language. The outcome will surprise you or God! Can you feel the curse I know? His hysterical laughing caused the Beyik and Hamidu to glance at each other. The looks sent Blackbane into another fit of mocking hilarity while the guards removed him from the building. Blackbane rested his arms between the bars of his cell while he awaited his execution. Slowly, he believed in his madness. In a small way, he decided the ax would convince him of his immortality, once and for all. Then, he grew confident that everything he experienced inside the convent came from his lunacy. Even the scar on his neck was nothing but an illusion. “Captain, I’ve caught a rat. I’ll be eating like the Beylik today,” Bingham’s voice interrupted Blackbane’s thoughts. “You’re a lucky dog,” the man agreed gruffly in English as he shifted his uncomfortable stance. Using their native language made it next to impossible for the guards to eavesdrop on the conversations. Because of Bingham’s continued loyalty to Blackbane, the first mate ended up in the cell next to his captain. Blackbane remained distracted as he focused on the idea of escape. The time inside the cell gave him plenty of time to think. He overheard news of war in the Baltic Sea from the guards, who relieved their boredom by spreading the latest rumors among themselves. To the pirate, the story was a godsend. Where there was war, there was an opportunity for treasure. To hell with Remiel and his curse. Over the days, the captain survived the maddening encounters with the phantoms of his victims. He made it through each night despite their ghastly haunting of him. Still, the lure of the sea called the captain. Blackbane needed to escape. “I’ll get what I want, then I’ll tell both heaven and hell they can kiss my pratts,” he said. “That damned fat Turk will never get my head!” Blackbane openly talked to himself since his capture. The first mate told him about the screams coming from the captain as he slept. Now, Blackbane felt the slightly crazed grin that went along with his madness. Even he was not sure if his actions were an act or his reality. “I might help you keep your head,” a sultry voice spoke from behind the prisoner. Whipping around, Blackbane found a woman standing inside his cell. Her luminous bluish face peeped from among the dark shadows in the corner of the small cell. Dressed in a long black robe, the woman pulled back her hood to reveal white hair, which dropped across her shoulders. Her thin face and expressive dark eyes held a stern expression, yet there appeared to be an underlying innocent sexiness to the woman. “And who are you?” Blackbane remembered the words of Remiel about demons. He glanced at the bars on his cell. They remained solid, and a chill filled him. “You may call me Naamah,” she breathed. “I come to offer you a way out of your death.” “Captain, who is over there?” Bingham’s voice came into the cell. “Quiet!” the captain hissed before talking to his visitor. “Naamah is not a name, I know. Yet, you crept into my cell. What is your purpose?” Despite her attractive look, the woman’s underlying dark aura filled the room. She pouted at his question, but her eyes watched him like prey. “I thought that was clear. You may escape with my help,” Naamah said as she silently stepped closer to him. She sniffed the foul air. “I smell your lust for me. It mixes with your fear.” “I fear nothing, wench. You will learn the smell of my hate for those who come to me with lies. You are the first demon to come to me unless my shattered mind deceives me,” he said. “State your terms or leave me to find out whether I starve or lose my head.” The pout crossed her face again. Still, she drew closer. “I’m not really a demon, whatever you may think. I’m a lost soul like you, forced to bear the children of an archangel in an agreement. In a way, I’m condemned as you are.” “Tis is a sad tale, I’m sure. But I trust wandering souls even less than demons at the moment.” Blackbane tried to remain in control of the conversation. He suspected something sinister lay behind the woman’s demeanor. “Yes, you enjoy what you see, but you correctly know there’s a need to be cautious,” Naamah replied with a mischievous sneer. “I have some ability to peer into your thoughts.” “Woman, tell me who your master is? I feel another presence behind you.” Blackbane glanced over at the solid bars. He vainly hoped to see an escape path. “I have no master,” she hissed. Immediately, her behavior turned innocent again. “I heard of your plight from Asmodeus. He told me of your immortality, but he believes Remiel has laid a trap. Now, he bides his time, for he doesn’t believe you will survive the ax,” she explained. “Should you survive the execution, then he will come and remove your soul. Asmodeus is most unpleasant when he discovers he is wrong.” “Alright, that only tells me that Asmodeus must be your master,” Blackbane observed sourly. “You have something else in mind. Get to the point, woman!” “I stand before you for my reasons. Now, do you want to escape or not?” “What makes you think I won’t risk my head? Hell, I’m immortal. The damn ax will break,” he stated with certainty. “Like your master, you want something with my soul. Otherwise, you would not come to me.” “I don’t care about your soul,” she told him with a sly smile. She pulled him close with her arms wrapped around his waist. Despite his wariness, Blackbane could not pull away. “I have a question for you. Does the great Blackbane risk death on someone’s word? Who is to say that Remiel was honest with you? Faith requires your complete submission to the will of God,” she reminded him. “Be honest, Blackbane. Do you have such faith?” She whispered as she leaned her face next to his neck. He felt her hot breath on his earlobe. The temptress brushed her hand along his back. “I’m not afraid of an ax,” Blackbane declared. “Death takes me to hell. It is my path since I left Boston as a ship’s boy. I need a reason for you to help me.” She smiled mysteriously. The clean air of a salty ocean breeze came to his nostrils. “Death or life is your choice. With the right help, you can live until judgment day. Isn’t that what you seek? With me at your side, you can become like Samael,” she said. “In return, I only require your seed. Your offspring is what I seek. It is the same exchange that Samael gave me.” Blackbane frowned. His ignorance about the stories inside the Bible left him curious about the truth. Then, he thought about stories of the djinn. The supernatural creatures were deceitful, offering hidden dangers. “I don’t trust you. Your request seems too small of a price to pay for your help. You are hiding something from me,” he said. “This is true,” she stated. “But my secrets remain with me. Now, you have little time to decide. It will be the ax or my offer. Otherwise, you can bargain with the executioner who comes for you.” She grinned. “I hear footsteps coming this way!” Chapter 5He scowled at Naamah while he considered the idea. Blackbane knew he dared to die for treasure. He had the blood of many men stained on his hands to prove that. But relying on faith in God’s word was something never really considered. Yes, the ghosts filled his nightly dreams. Somehow, he learned to handle their disturbing nightmares. And it was an angel who claimed the immortality that Blackbane held. In the end, Blackbane recognized he carried no convictions beyond his destination after death. Do I really believe that I’m immortal on the word of an angel? “Do we have a deal? You hear boots coming down the steps,” the woman pressed him. “Are they coming for you?” A split second later, a procession of men entered the narrow passage at the far end of the dungeon. Blackbane turned and pressed his face against the iron bars. He saw the small group of guards as they walked toward his cell. His mind raced for a decision. Finally, he relented. “I’ll take your deal, but only if Bingham comes with me,” he hastily told the woman. She smiled and took his hand. Mating with a demon sounded better than dying. Blackbane’s thought caused the symbol on his neck to turn red. The burning pain in his neck grew intense. Still, he tried to disregard the sensation. “Follow me,” she said as she led him to the stone wall. The woman walked right through the cut stone. Blackbane hesitated, then he felt her firm grip pull him forward. His eyes widened as he watched his hand disappear through the rock wall. In the blink of an eye later, Naamah and Blackbane were standing in the dungeon cell of Bingham. Immediately, Bingham suppressed a cry while he pushed his back against the bars in terror. With his blue vest halfway over his arm, the first mate kept glancing back and forth at his captain and the woman. “I’ll explain later,” Blackbane told his friend, then turned to the woman as the footsteps drew closer. “Now what?” Naamah sighed and grabbed both men by their arms. She pulled them with her as she walked to the inside wall of the dungeon. An instant later, the trio stood inside a dark storage room on the other side of the prisoner’s cells. “They’ll have quite a time trying to understand how you escaped,” she boasted. “No doubt, a few heads will roll when the Beyik doesn’t like their answers.” “She’s a witch!” His long and dirty red hair partially hid the terrified first mate’s round face. Bingham finally scrambled away to the other side of a barrel. However, Naamah remained between him and the door. “He looks like a cornered baboon,” Naamah hissed in disgust. “Calm down, you damn fool. She’s not a witch, and she’s on our side,” Blackbane said. He glanced at her before looking back at his friend. “Well, that’s for the moment, at least. Bingham, get yourself together,” Marshall commanded. “What kind of sorcery do you call that?” The first mate’s shaky voice grew high-pitched while he still sought a way to leave. “I have power much older and more powerful than a witch,” Naamah scoffed with an amused grin while the terrified man backed to the wall. “Why is he coming along? He is mortal and stinks of fear.” “Because he’s loyal to me and part of the bargain,” Blackbane growled back. “Enough of this bickering. We need to leave this fort and get to a ship.” The room went silent at the question as the captain looked at his companions. He rubbed his neck, feeling the scar. It remained warm to his touch. “We have the sea on one side. I can’t take you through the walls and end up in seawater,” the woman told them. “We’ll need to go through the main gate.” “We might just get that ax yet,” Blackbane told them. “Let’s find out where the door leads. Come along, my loyal friend. Let’s find whether or not I’m insane!” ~~~ It was dusk before the trio finally escaped from the fortress. With some coaxing, Blackbane got Bingham to join him. The two men found white robes hanging near a courtyard, which they stole and put over their clothes. They also cut away parts of another garment to fashion crude-looking turbans. The effort made them appear less conspicuous as they made their way down the passage to the gate. When they reached the entrance into the fort, the two men caught sight of guards. Quickly, the trio crouched behind the corner of the wall. “Just be quiet,” Naamah confidently told them before she rose and walked toward the two guards in their colorful, bellowing uniforms. As she drew close, they appeared uncertain about the woman in the strange attire. They made the mistake of letting Naamah come too close. Instantly, her long arms transformed into nebulous, smokey tentacles, which lifted the men from the ground. The guards grabbed for their throats as the nearly invisible strands of her shadow wrapped tightly around their throats. By the time Blackbane got to the gate; both guards were dead. Naahah’s ghostly tentacles faded away. The dead men, with their tongues hanging out of open mouths, flopped to the ground “Christ protect us,” Bingham automatically crossed himself. Naamah gave him an evil glare. “Get their weapons,” Blackbane ordered the first mate. He carefully approached Naamah. “Your secrets appear in your powers as well, demon woman. Is my fate to look like these men when you finish with me?” The question caused her to pause. “I assume you are stronger and smarter than such pawns,” she replied, as her face displayed the innocence of a young child. “I’ll do far worse to you if you forget our agreement.” The woman in black turned away, swiftly walking away. Bingham stepped next to his captain and handed him a guard’s belt that held a sword encased in a leather sheath. “Captain, you’ve made a deal with the devil,” the first mate told him under his breath. “I didn’t realize you were in earnest when I overheard your conversations with her back in the cell.” “Aye, you thought me still mad. Well, everything you’ve heard and seen is true. There’s no turning back now. Let’s move!” After they slowly closed on Naamah, the pirate leaned closer to his friend. “It appears I’ll need to learn the ways of demons quickly if I’m to survive what’s coming,” Blackbane whispered. “I’m more worried about those mortals around you,” Bingham quietly observed. His tone was even, but Blackbane understood his anxiety. “I have no words of comfort, my loyal friend. I’ve followed a path to hell. You knew that, as well. A buccaneer searches for riches and often finds the hangman’s noose. Yet you remained trustworthy, even to the point of death. I would not betray you with a lie now.” Blackbane paused, debating how much to explain. “As I’ve rotted in that cell, I’ve tried to discover another path. But my soul is too black for redemption. You’ve seen how demons will call me out. I have only enraging dreams, which tells me nothing. You would do well to follow another captain.” The two men went silent at the thought. Their footsteps on the hard-packed ground, along with their winded breathing, overwhelmed the distant rush of the nearby surf. The dark form of Naamah remained ahead of them. Both men glanced at each other at the lack of sound coming from the woman’s footsteps. However, her pace forced them to increase their speed. “I know you as William Marshall,” Bingham finally spoke. “You remember when I joined the Ranger? It was you who kept that damned Black Sam Bellamy from stringing my neck from the yardarm. While you’re not fit to enter a church, you’ve always shown loyalty to those that follow your orders. I’ll walk the path to hell or worse with you.” Blackbane recalled the incident with a nod. “Bingham, you’re a good man,” he replied carefully. “However, I’m afraid that’s the path we have no option but to follow. We’re dealing with creatures that carry hearts blacker than ours.” Built on battle and blood, each man held an admiration for the other. To Blackbane, it was more durable than a mere friendship. “Let’s catch up with our lady friend before she kills the crew. We’ll need some of them to get us out of Tunis,” the captain replied with a frown that remained partially hidden by his flowing beard. After walking along the empty road until the moon peaked above them, Blackbane saw his ship still moored on the dock. “Most of the crew will no longer follow you,” Bingham warned him when he saw the captain’s eyes staring at the dark silhouette. “They’re afraid of your insanity. Seymore became the first mate under Hamidu. He told them you are a lunatic.” “After meeting that woman in black, perhaps you’re a lunatic as well,” the captain joked. Bingham briefly grinned while he glanced at his friend, who kept observing the movements on the ship. Blackbane’s eyelids narrowed at the sight of only a single person on deck. The watch wore the turban of a Turk. “Still, no matter who the men of the Diano Marina follow, we’re not going far without my maps and sextant,” Blackbane decided with a growl. NEXT CHAPTERSLike the story? Get a VIP subscription.
|