Isabelle
The journey was nearing Arabia. Twice a week Reynolds would lure Thomas in for a late night drink. When he had too much he would disparage his niece, Isabelle. Tonight was such a night, the next day they arrived at port.
“She might have been fair it was not for the freckles,” Reynolds snorted and then took another sip. “She might have been fair if not for her face! I could not even pay for a suitor to come around.”
Thomas did his best to contain his emotions. “We are to dock tomorrow. Simply buy a wife and create an heir. You have the coin to buy a beauty, she will never question a thing you do.”
“I abhor slavery.” Reynolds set the glass down. “It sickens me, and the thought of owning another person should sicken you as well or I will question our friendship.”
“You would not own her.” Thomas clarified. “You would be setting her free, to live a life of her choosing while supplying you with an heir.”
The thought of his mother flashed in his mind and he could not get it out. Reynolds shook his head, “I should be grateful the girl is unpalatable, it saves her from much pain and anguish.”
Thomas grew weary of the conversation’s turn back to Isabelle. He poured Reynolds another drink, to the brim of the glass. “A toast then, to the end of a great lineage.” Thomas raised his glass.
The two guzzled the drinks and Reynolds stumbled under the ships sway and sat down. “Such a pity about the girl, such a waste of time and energy.” he mumbled.
Thomas glared at him, “How dare you speak so ill of another human being? So harshly, day after day. To make matters worse she is your family, you have little care for her. You do not care that it looks like someone has spilled cinnamon on her nose and a burst of wind scattered it across her face. You have no care for the dark forest that hides her mahogany eyes, nor do you wish to know what resides in there. You are unworthy to sit at her feet, let alone dine at her table. So it is just as well you never dishonor her doorstep.”
Reynolds eyes widened at the speech, he began to sober up a little.
“You dare not even speak her name, because the sound of something so beautiful could never come out of your mouth.” Thomas felt justified in his words.
“But you know it.” Reynolds tried to stand but his legs would not assist him. “You know it, do you not? You can speak her name. Speak it! Speak it NOW!”
Thomas looked him straight in the eye, “Isabelle.”
“Who are you?” Reynolds questioned. “Why have you come here? What are your intentions?”
“Everything is nefarious with you, is it not?” Thomas asked. “Why should I be any different? Is that what you think?”
“I shall have you arrested.” Reynolds warned.
Thomas walked outside the cabin and grabbed some rope. He could see the lights in the distance of town near the shore, probably a fishing village.
He tied Reynolds to the chair he was too drunk to move from. He would sober up in the morning, and the crew would find him. By then he would be long gone. He had enough money to make it back to fair Isabelle, to let her know she would not be alone in the world.
He jumped from the ship and swam towards the light. His only thoughts were of Isabelle. ‘The thought of her haunts me still. Her’s is a vengeful spirit, it is relentless. Day and night never ceasing, never sleeping.’ He thought to himself as he swam. ‘I shall never quench this flame that burns in my soul, yet if I do not find a way to sustain it, it will devour me.’