I am awakened by the stench. A stale smell of mould. A pungent bouquet of spoiled food mixed with darkness. It is night-time. Or am I perhaps in a lightless room? The notion that I might be blind crosses my mind. It terrifies me and a spasm travels along my muscles.

I am in pain. Everywhere. There is not a single part of my body that does not hurt. And my head. My skull! I have a terrible feeling, as if my brain is trying to escape from its cavity.

Everything sways around me. Dizziness? No, I am at sea. I need to sit down. Understand where I am. My hands grab hold of the bars. Not a single doubt about my position. The cage. In the Anarkhia's hold.

Prisoner in my own ship. How ironic!

After the anger, a feeling of ecstasy pierces my heart. I've done it. Home. And Sirena is a few feet above me on deck.

Madness, my old friend! I feel like shouting out for joy, but I hold my tongue. They have left me buckets and a flask. The seawater is refreshing. This must be a joke. She is punishing me. Florence is giving me a taste of what I inflicted on her after we kidnapped her.

Why the hell can't I wipe this stupid smile off my face? At least, there are only the rats to bear witness to my foolishness.

All I have to do now is wait. I know that I am going to have to bide my time. She wants to show me what it feels like. To be all alone in the world, in the dark, with only fear for company.

I wait a long time. A very long time. Suddenly, the hatch is opened. Nick's silhouette comes down the ladder. How pleased I am to see him again! Safe and sound. He did not take part in the bloodbath at Marcelin's.

Mobilising all my concentration, I keep my face closed so as not to show any expression. The young ship's boy places a bean and pea soup with a few chunks of salt pork before me. And an apple.

Nick is looking at me strangely. He has something to say to me! But he doesn't dare. He knows that he has acted badly. His betrayal is all the more serious in light of his debt towards me.

New Providence. Winter 1745.

Cook and I were trying to find a ship bound for the continent that would hire our services. We happened on the Anarkhia by chance. That was not the name she bore at the time. The captain did not recognize me. He too had changed his name. Captain Morris. For Gibs and I, there was not a shadow of a doubt. It was he. Fisherman. The devil who had plundered my body in a filthy cabin in the middle of the Atlantic.

Revenge was within reach. So, we did what we knew best. We hatched a grisly plan. We watched him for three days. His habits, his crew, his comings and goings. We followed his every move. We were behind him all the way from the port of Nassau, with its steep cliffs on one side, to the fortress perched on the hill. It helped us to learn more about his smuggling activities.

We recruited a few mercenaries who were willing to perform an act that was both illegal and dangerous. John was the first to join us.

The evening before the brig was set to leave for Port-au-Prince, I went on board. Night was falling. My men were waiting on the dock.

And there he was, Fisherman, talking to a young ship's boy aged about ten near the mast. It almost made me vomit. Kill him on the spot. But no! My story is written in blood, cries and tears.

I asked him if I could speak to him in private about an urgent affair. Too easy. I followed him to his quarters. As soon as he closed the door, I hit him in the throat. He looked surprised. I didn't leave him enough time to express anything else. I used the butt of my pistol to knock him out.

That night, I took my revenge. The cloths that I had shoved in his mouth prevented him from crying out and shouting for help. I hit him until my knuckles bled. I liberated my rage and my anger.

Everything. I was freed of everything! The bullying, the shame, the horror... Each time I struck him my soul became lighter. It was as if the prison in which I had been locked ten or so years before had become wider.

Before I was able to do him in, the door opened. The ship's boy I had seen earlier on the deck had come to enquire after his master. He watched the scene with a mixture of fear and relief.

The Cook and my mercenaries watched over the gangplank. If the nipper fled, they would fall on him and kill him with not one moment's hesitation. If he managed to escape, I would be sentenced to death.

The kid's reaction left me at a loss for words. He did not run. He did not cry out for help. He slowly picked up a letter-opener on the desk. He went up to the monster agonizing on the floor. He placed the point of the blade in the middle of his chest. He drove it in. Slowly. Calmly.

The boy didn't steal my revenge from me. He transcended it.

I went to fetch my men and we got rid of the body. We abandoned it in plain sight, in the port of New Providence. We assassinated the rest of the crew members who had remained on board. Then we set sail for the French colonies.

Nick never thanked me for ending his ordeal. He simply learned to live again. From time to time, when I see a smile on his lips, I feel reassured. Among all the horrors I have committed, one has at least served to banish a demon from this world. I have permitted a child to laugh again.

Ever since, I have been one of the English authorities most wanted pirates. Apparently, I was not discreet enough when I recruited my men. My name, Steven Kelly, is placarded on all the guard houses in the Anglo-Saxon colonies.

Luckily, few people know my real face.

I just eat and ignore him. Nick leaves without a word. What was he thinking? That I was going to give him an earful? Lose my temper? Berate him? I am not his father.

At this precise moment in time, I do not even know what I wish to do. My mad race over the hills of Tortuga in the rain has confused me. For the time being, I have only one ambition: to go out and stroke the helm and plunge my head in Sirena's blond locks.

Gibs sacrificed himself so that I could retrieve the brig and the hoard. He trusts me enough to know that I shall try to save him too. If Carpentier has not killed him, he will use him as a bargaining chip. Given that Marcelin is out of the picture, the entire sum in Florence's father's cassette is mine. I shall use it to buy back my friend.

As to the pirates, they have proved more than once that they were only serving their own interests. I will convince them to follow me in this quest.

The hatch opening brings me out of my thoughts. This time, it's Bappé who is coming towards me.

"Kelly," he addresses me. "Our lady captain is ready to receive you."

My murder urge reappears as promptly as it had left. Silence is my best friend.

The seaman unlocks the door. He lets me go past him, his hand on the sabre at his belt. He does not trust me. I am not so stupid as to think that I could confront a man of his size with my bare hands in this cramped space.

The image of my late First mate springs to mind. John died here, killed by Florence herself. At the time, I did not understand all that was at play.

My steps are slow and uncertain. I climb up the ladder and walk past a few pirates in steerage. I only know about half of them.

At last, I am on deck. An Easterly wind is blowing hard in the unfurled sails. We are heading South. The shards of the rising sun blind me for a moment or two. I savour this feeling. Sea spray. The mistral's caress. The smell of wet wood and salt.

And there she is. Before me. Her long blond mane swept up by the wind. What an angelic vision! She comes up to me, slowly, with a questioning look in her eyes. Then, her soft lips brush mine. A timid, almost chaste kiss.

I kiss her. My hands curl around her back to reduce the distance that separates us. I am astonished by her voluptuous, peach-soft skin. There is none of this delicateness in my world. I could be damned for such feelings. All I desire is to take off her shirt and grab her breasts in my fingers.

"I was coming to fetch you," I whisper with a candour I didn't even know I had.

She knows it. Jaime and Bappé must have told her. She pushes me away, a half-smile on her lips and it pulls on the scar across her face. I had almost forgotten how much she had suffered through my fault. The scar removes nothing from her magnificence. It makes her even more beautiful.

Unique.

And it is at that moment that I realize that she belongs to no man. If I am lucky, she will let me get near enough to enjoy her splendour. But never will she be mine.

But my ship, well that'sanother matter.