A Ship Cursed Part 6

I knew he was reticent for a reason. Tortuga has no law, so what had happened must be something which would cause him to be cast out; a mean feat among those who lived, debauched, and killed on this island. ‘La Joya Del Sol, it was a beautiful ship wasn’t it?’

He gave me a sideways glance and said, ‘Oui. Beautiful, seductive, vite… euuh, she was very fast, but all this hid a coeur noir.’

I leaned closer, ‘a… black heart?’ I guessed, ‘How so?’

‘This ship, she was cursed. We were two weeks into our journey from Tortuga, to raid Barranquilla, when the wind ran out. The food was enough for the trip there. Then after the raid, we would take what food we needed. But we never made it.’ As he said this, he waved the barkeep over and demanded another bottle of wine. ‘After two weeks, the food, it ran out.’

‘But your ship, you said it was becalmed for four months.’

At this, he glanced around nervously, ‘oui, for a week we fished. We caught a few, and ate them, but it was not enough. We were always still hungry.’ He glanced over his shoulders, clearly uncomfortable. Finally I was going to find out what had happened on the ship, and why he had refused to talk to anyone.

‘Personne. You can tell no one. Not a soul.’ he said. He looked at me intently. He had death in his eyes—his own—he was living only because his body demanded him to.

I nodded.