No, nothing else matters. Only Florence.

To brave the cold night-time temperatures, Gwewa and I huddle against each other. She still frightens me but now and again I feel a degree of sympathy for the poor lunatic.

Even if she is free, her chances of survival in this white man's world are low. If they capture her, she will be sentenced to the gibbet for her crimes or sent to the fields to toil until she dies. And if she remains in piracy, brigands and freebooters will try to take possession of her body without ado. I nevertheless spare a thought for the wretched buccaneer who tries to get near her without fathoming her explosive character. The only solution is to leave. Florence, Gwewa and I. To go inland, where the savages live. I do not know if there is a place where the powerful of this world have not soiled them with their depraved morality.

A new quest. Another challenge. I am ready.

On the second evening, I tell Gwewa everything. About my life. The suffering I have borne. I speak in my mother tongue so I do not know if she understands my tale. She listens. Her warm eyes have the same virtues as the Aloe Vera. They soothe me. I tell her everything. For the first time in my life, I loosen up.

"Can I entrust you with a mission?" I ask when I have finished telling my dark account.

Her smile reveals teeth which shine yellow in the firelight.

"My physical condition..." I hesitate. "I have little chance of surviving... in these surroundings... If you find her, you will tell her, won't you?"

She nods her head approvingly.

"She must know what she has given me. My body may be in a sorry state, but now I am cured."

On the morning of the third day, it is time for us to leave our makeshift camp. If I have managed to survive in spite of my poor stamina, it must be the case for others. They will have information on our precise location and the best way to return to civilisation.

Gwewa follows me without a word. We move slowly forward along the seashore. We stop now and then in the shade of the trees when exhaustion submerges us.

My life has been a series of violent acts. My mother, the baker, Brian, Fisherman, the Anarkhia. I was caught in a vicious circle because I believed that there was nothing more to life than hatred and being abandoned.

My friendship with Cook was sincere even though it was self-interested. I advocated the pirate lifestyle and freedom to be able to do as I wanted. I wanted my fill of all the pleasures in life.

Like him. Guillaume Carpentier.

The first time we met, I had just stolen the Anarkhia. I was a rich young captain, proud of my exploits. My band of men remained in my wake. I assumed my role of leader and was respected by all.

Was it that then? Jealousy?

Yes, I was as proud and stupid as a peacock. I showed off my success and recently stolen gold. Carpentier wasn't more than twenty at the time. He got me into the port of New Orleans illegally. With his help, I offloaded barrels of rum under the noses of his fellow officers. I paid him well for his services.

That same evening, we drank together and I seem to remember that I paid for one or two whores for him. I just laughed. I spent the evening drinking and making merry. I ended up in the arms of a pretty redhead whose body was not too ravaged by age and the hard life of the settlers.

It is true that a small incident occurred. I was as drunk as a lord and I still cannot recall all the details. I was fucking my carrot-head in a room adjoining the brothel. No, I would not have cared to do it in public. I think the officer came into the room in the hope of joining the party. Not being attracted to orgies, I calmly told him to get lost. Cook tottered in and dragged him outside. Is that what this is all about? Was he vexed for such a trifle? Has he been planning his dark revenge ever since because I refused to share the damsel?

How absurd! I would have liked to have been educated, to have had a position in the navy, to have led a quiet life. Perhaps Carpentier and I hated each other because we secretly wanted to swap our lives.

Around midday, the smell of smoke drags me from my ramblings. I can smell it. Burning wood. Cooked fish. My mouth is already watering.

"We are not alone."

Always on the lookout, Gwewa rears up, knife in hand, ready to slit the throat of the first person to show their face.

"Calm down. Can you smell it?"

She nods her head .

"Let us approach with caution," I suggest. I do not want to find myself face to face with cannibals. Or Carpentier.

Together we take a circuitous route on a path through a forest of creepers to the creek. The steep terrain is difficult to climb because of all the branches and roots which cover the soil.

We arrive at the top of a rocky rise and lie down to observe the situation. Fifteen or so men are seated around a big fire, holding poles over it to cook fresh fish. I can just make out the uniforms of the sailors on the Vindicta and the more ordinary apparel of the pirates of the Anarkhia. Colours make little difference when it comes to survival.

I screw up my eyes to try and see the faces better. Leng. He is there. Very much alive, I recognize his long black hair and his trim silhouette. Bappé too! And I think I can see Léon, Jaime and Valentin too.

No long blonde hair in sight. No Carpentier either.

And that's when I see her. Shining. Radiant. She is coming out of the forest, her arms full of dry wood to start the fire. Her firm step convinces me that she was not hurt in the shipwreck. Without thinking, I get up and start running towards her. I can hear Gwewa calling from behind me. I take no notice of her and continue my mad race towards Sirena.

Everything goes so fast that it is difficult for me to understand what is happening. The explosion of joy in my heart is spoiled by the sight of another person. Carpentier is there. He also went to fetch kindling. His posture is very different from that which he demonstrated on the Vindicta. He is almost pitiful with his lowered shoulders and bent back. He has lost everything. His gold, his ship, his sailors and his prisoner. His career is over. Vaudreuil will not reward an officer who returns empty-handed after having wiped out a crew and destroyed a vessel. Worse than that. The few survivors will accuse him for the poor choices he made and which caused the ship to sink.

Florence sees me.

No!

Do not come towards me. Do not show him that he can still wound me.

Too late. She drops her load and runs towards me. She throws herself into my arms. Her kiss pierces my heart. Her happiness at finding me is in no way feigned. She loves me more than I could ever have imagined.

Tears of joy fill her eyes. She cups my face in her soft hands and presses her forehead against mine. What a picture we make now we are back together.

Suddenly a foul stench attacks my nostrils.

"What is that smell?" I ask Florence.

"Rick died and we buried him here," she says, pointing her chin at a mound of stones.

We look at each other for a moment. Impossible to hold it back. Florence and I burst out laughing. We can't control ourselves. It is contagious. It's the first time we have laughed together. Her hysterical laughter is a melodious song. All the stress that I have accumulated over the last few days has disappeared in a puff of smoke thanks to Rick, who even in death, continues to share his pestilential smell with us.

"What kind of monsters are you to make fun of the death of one of your own?" says Carpentier behind Sirena.

I have forgotten that my enemy is still a few steps away from us. We end our embrace.

"What is happening? Why are you with him?" I ask Florence.

"A truce, for the survival of all," she explains.

Gwewa arrives in turn and observes our incongruous trio. She nods a greeting to Sirena as if she had left her only a minute earlier.

"Let us go back to the others," says the former officer.

"You go first," I reply coldly.

We defy each other with a look. He can do nothing against me for the moment. Gwewa and Florence are on my side. After a few seconds, he turns round and walks away to join the survivors.

"We must get away!" I appeal to Florence. "We are not safe as long as Carpentier is around."

"And the others?" Florence sounds worried.

In answer to her question, the little band runs towards us. They have seen Carpentier. They have noticed my presence. Their exhausted faces cannot hide their joy at seeing me alive. I would never have thought that one day I would feel it, but it gives me pleasure. I could even say more. I find it intoxicating. Is that what they mean by friendship? Bappé and Leng greet me with a slap on my shoulder. Léon takes me in his arms like a child who has found a parent. Jaime beams. And Valentin watches me with a mixture of admiration and gratitude.

"Listen," I say. "Carpentier will not stop chasing me. Capturing me and taking me back alive to New Orleans is the only means he has to save what is left of his lacklustre career."

"Let's kill him," suggests Valentin.

"I have a better idea. Let's all go back to Basselin's inn. It will be our meeting place. You all know who she is." I add, pointing at Florence.

The pirates all nod except Valentin who is watching Sirena with a puzzled look. Florence thinks over my suggestion.

"To the North, there is a small port of embarkation," says Bappé. "To the South, there is a beach which is used for the transit of smuggled goods."

"Carpentier and his men wanted to start walking to the North tomorrow," says Leng.

"Keep him occupied and accompany him. Sirena and I are going South. Now. Just us. I am ready to begin a new life with you, Florence. I am weary of piracy."

She looks at me. She is hesitating. Her friends are waiting for her answer. Is her pirate activity more important than me? Than us?

"Very well," she says finally, staring deep into my eyes. "Gwewa, you will remember? Basselin, in Pontchartrain."

Our comrade nods.

"Carpentier has disappeared," announces Léon looking in all directions.

"Váyanse, nos encargaremos del capitán de Luisiana," promises Jaime.

"It's time to weigh anchor, my lovely. God speed, pirates!"

Dizzy with emotion, I look benevolently on these seamen who have coloured my life with their fraternity. Gwewa holds her hand out to me, a predatory smile on her face. Why do I have the feeling that this is the last time I will see her?

Florence kisses me. I guide her towards the path I arrived on. We run Southward. To freedom. Never before has happiness resonated in my heart this way. I take flight. Tiredness and hunger no longer affect me. Her fingers are in mine. A shimmering future is before us. I can see it already. We shall find refuge on her father's plantation. Florence will be free from want. Basselin will teach me business and how to trade with the savages. Together we shall create a haven of peace for orphaned souls. Children? One day perhaps.

Léon, Leng, Bappé and Gwewa will join us. Maybe even Valentin. We shall form the strangest of families. But without a doubt the happiest.

Florence will teach me to read, to write and to make love. I shall work on the land like my ancestors in Ireland.

Everything is possible.

Start all over again. Be born again.