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for the promise of immortality? A false promise, for the negative energy of the Dark never fulfilled promises or set truth among the whispered lies.
    She slammed her fists on the hard wooden cot, no more than a two-foot wide plank slung from ropes and covered by a thin mattress stuffed with straw. This was stupid jealousy, the green-eyed Malevolent which wormed into the heart, consuming to the core.
    Alicia Mereno was nothing more than an ambitious woman who held the acquirement of material wealth as her ultimate goal. She was no Dark Witch. Her assets were her bosoms and the allure of the slit between her legs. To be sexually attractive was not the work of the Dark. The act of love when given with pleasure – or even indifference – was a natural thing. Rape, sexual violence and sadism, ais , that fed the Dark Energy, but Jesamiah took pride in his ability to make love. There was never anything brutal about his passionate couplings.
    Smiling at the thought, at the memories, the rise of anger left Tiola. Jesamiah was a man who had a weakness for enjoying a woman’s body. His attention to the ladies made no less of his love for her. Or did it? Was he already becoming tired of her? He had, when all was said and done, once admired Alicia. Even loved her?
    One arm across her eyes Tiola lay back on the bed. Her deep love for a human ought not to have happened; she had control of her body, her existence, but not her soul’s adoration for a damned pirate! That it was perhaps meant, that possibly her unity with Jesamiah Acorne was for some as yet unrevealed purpose may well be, but at this moment as the wind filled the sails of the Fortune of Virginia she could not give a bent penny for meanings, explanations or predictions. For the Good of All with Harm to None. The mantra of the Old Ones, the Immortals of Light. She loved him. Loved him with every fibre of her being. But did he love her? Had he ever loved her?
    Oh this was nonsense! Less than two hours at sea and already the headache and the doubts were invading her senses and exaggerating her weaknesses, making her think foolish thoughts!
    It was the sea causing it, she was sure, the mere presence of the sea. Tiola was a creature of the land, surrounded by salt water she was vulnerable to the pull of the tides that were draining her of energy and rational, sensible thinking. She had to learn how to master this debilitation! Had to!
    But what if they were not so foolish? What if he wanted Alicia?
    A solitary tear trailed down her cheek. Jesamiah did not understand that she had her duties to attend, that she was honour-bound to put others before herself. Her Craft, her knowledge and her wisdom, would all be for naught if she turned aside from what she was, a healer and a midwife, a Wise Woman of the Old Ones of Wisdom – a witch. To be nothing except Jesamiah’s wife would be to give everything away. And she could not do that. Or could she?
    Tiola felt so safe when she was with Jesamiah; safe and protected, for he was strong and brave. Invincible. Almost!
    And she did so love him.

Seven
    The cask only scraped the wall, barely touched it, but the wood burst open and foul, stinking water gushed out. The fourth cask to break.
    “For fok sake!” Jesamiah yelled, looking up from the ship’s list of required supplies and shoving the sheaf of papers into Rue’s hands. He strode across the jetty to the open warehouse door. “Masters? You empty-bellied seaslug, these casks are as rotten as the water they hold. You’ve sold me shite!”
    He stormed inside, took a flight of stairs three at a time and hurtled into the small office. Jonathan Masters, owner and merchant trader, sprang to his feet while fumbling at the desk drawer for a pistol. Jesamiah was faster. His own pistol was cocked and levelled straight between the merchant’s eyes.
    “You’ve been trying to cheat me, Masters. You’ve sold me scum water. And what state’s the flour and pork in I wonder? Rancid and riddled