"Baba?" The young woman spoke the moment her maid left the large, luxuriously furnished room, leaving her alone with her adoptive father.

Hizir Hayrettin Pasha, or simply Barbarossa, as he was known outside the walls of his palace, was an impressive man. Tall, broad-shouldered and filled with energy and power apparent in each move of his strong muscles and long limbs, in each of his unshakeable decisions. As admirable as he was to some, he was frightening to others.

Annie shifted her weight nervously when he did not reply immediately. Her long aquamarine robe composed of many layers of light, semi-transparent fabric fluttered in the warm summer breeze sweeping across the room, rippling its numerous colourful curtains exactly as it rippled the surface of the turquoise sea, which she could see through the window. It rolled and stretched towards the distant horizon behind her Baba's broad shoulders invitingly. It had been too long since her adoptive father let her sail on one of his ships, and she missed the adventure...

She watched him as he finally moved towards her, knowing that whatever he meant to tell her was serious.

"Have you heard the news, Annie?" he asked after he observed her silently for a short while.

This young woman wasn't his real daughter, but he loved her with all his heart, from the moment her father, an English sailor who became one of his seamen and his most treasured friend, entrusted her to him when she was five, just before he died.

Hizir ran his hand through his black hair at the recollection. How many battles he had fought, and how many good men's lives all those small victories had cost him... But all those men had joined him from their free will, deserting other ships where they had been underpaid and mistreated. Just like Jack Morgan, Annie's late father.

Perceiving his inner turmoil, Annie ran to him and wrapped her arms around his waist as she buried her face in his chest, like she used to do when she was a small girl.

He kissed her on the crown of her veil-covered head and enclosed her in a fatherly embrace before he repeated his question patiently, "Have you heard?"

She nodded and spoke without looking at him, "Sultan Salim is preparing to leave Antalya; he wants to flee to Egypt. We will have to follow him."

As much as she tried to please her Baba, she never quite got used to living in this part of the world. The culture, the way of life of this place, was abysmally different from what she remembered and was told about her native land, England. She wished she could go back one day...

"I will have to follow him, habibti. But you... You don't have to..."

"Baba," she whispered, pulling away from him slightly, to be able to see his face. Her irises, the same unusual shade of blue-green as her dress and veil, bore into his, as she added, "What are you talking about?"

He sighed deeply. "You are twenty-one, Annie. Not a little girl anymore. And as much as I love you, I'm not your father. I know that he, your real father, would hate me if I did not let you make a decision for yourself now."

She shook her head, tears pooling in her eyes, afraid of herself, of what she might choose if he let her decide... She owed him everything... But...

"Just listen for a moment. You grew up on my ships, on the sea, and in the ports. You are just as, no, you are a lot more skilled and experienced than any other seaman I know. There is a reason why I made you study languages, map reading, and geography. I... knew that this day would come."

He paused for a while before he continued, giving her time to consider his words.

"I secured you a place of a sailing master on one of my ships. Of course, you will join the crew in disguise, becoming Jack Morgan. The captain is my loyal friend, an Englishman, and he is the only one who knows who you really are-- for the rest of the crew, you will be my good friend, my protégé. The ship will take you as far as northern Italy if you decide to go; none of my ships would venture further. There, in Genoa, for instance, it shouldn't be difficult for you to board another ship and reach England. But before leaving you there," Barbarossa added mysteriously, "the captain promised me to take you to a small island off the coast of Italy, where I, together with your late father, once left something for you, hidden in a cave."

He smiled when he saw her aquamarine eyes become unfocused with the vision of adventure and distant shores. She was not his real daughter, but she was so much like him.

"But you, Baba? If I leave you now, will we ever see each other again?"

"If Allah wills it, Annie," he muttered, pulling her even closer to him.

*I do not own the pictures.