Dark Before the Rising Sun Read Free

good name. Such wickedness, I thought, for even the portrait of his mother had been auctioned off to pay for this miscreant’s debts.
    I knew then what I must do. I sought ye out, lad. I think I must have been half-mad, and may God forgive me, but I hoped to find ye to be the cursed swine I thought ye to be. Then I would somehow have tricked ye into challenging me. I wanted to kill ye, boy, but when I sat across the gaming table from ye and stared into gray eyes so much like the lady of the portrait’s, I could see only hers and I couldn’t destroy her son.
    Of course, ye weren’t exactly what I had been expecting. Aye, ye were arrogant enough, but that was in your blood and the way ye’d been raised, so I couldn’t fault ye that. But I could plainly see that your drinking and whoring were getting the better of ye. Ye looked like ye was staring death in the face. I would’ve left ye to your fate, lad, except that I saw something in your eyes.
    I saw regret and sadness, and that same, strange expression of longing that had been in your mother’s eyes. ’Tis a mystery still, the cause of that sadness, for she knew it well long before ye brought your share of heartache to her. But ye were her son, and she would have loved ye dearly, and for that reason alone, I took pity on ye that night.
    I vowed that I would make a decent man of ye. Either that, or I’d see ye on the bottom of the sea. And truth be known, lad, I had my doubts those first months when your resentment and lack of spirit nearly cost ye your life.
    But ye survived. She would have been proud of ye. I never had the honor of meeting the lady of the portrait, but I have loved her as I have loved no other. ’Twas madness, and I fear that it has been my downfall, for I have been content to live with but a dream these many years. Aye, I’ve played the mooncalf, but I’d not change one day of that devotion.
    However, there is one thing I would have changed. It has made me little better than a blackguard, and most deserving of your scorn. I took advantage of my knowledge of ye and hid the portrait, never telling ye I owned it. I had convinced myself that I was doing it for your own good, that ye needed to suffer while wondering what had become of the portrait of your mother. I knew ye were desperate to recover the portrait, for I’d been back to that shop, thinking to purchase something else of the Lady Jacqobi’s. The shopkeeper told me ye’d been in, and that ye’d threatened him, but that he could tell ye nothing about me, not even my name. I knew then that ye’d been gambling just to get enough money to buy the portrait.
    And so I have unjustly deprived ye of her comforting presence these long years of struggle, and I do now humbly beg your forgiveness. ’Twas wrong of me, lad, but we all have our weaknesses. Your mother has been mine. How many times have I cursed the fates for their cruel mischief-making!
    I only wish that…well, that’s not to be now. I wanted ye to know the truth. I also wanted ye to know that I have come to think of ye as the son I never had. I could not have been prouder of my own flesh and blood. That is why I have left to you, Son, my share of the Perdita . She could have no finer a captain. I hope my partners in her will keep ye on as her master, but they’re a sorry lot of greedy merchants and may not be willing to risk their investment with a young captain at the helm. If so, then sell out and get yourself a ship of your own. Ye’ve got the makings of a fine captain, lad, on that I’d stake my reputation. Ye’ve got your share of the many prizes we’ve captured. ’Tis a small fortune ye’ve amassed. I know ye’ve not spent much of it, but for what purpose ye’ve been saving it, I’ve no knowledge. That be your business and not mine. But if I were ye, then I’d be usin’ it to buy that ship, and have it free and