CHAPTER 1
The Righteous sailed on, splendid in its silent glory, dark, and regal. She split the Atlantic in two, moving always with purpose, like a selective, half-hungry shark, not willing to take any offering, only the one she sought. That sublime chosen prey would satisfy her desire, would curb her appetite — until the next one.
Captain Nicholas Collington brushed his hair from his brow and raised his glass to the velvet sky. The constellations paraded their beauty in the clear, still night. He knew their placement in the spring and in the autumn. They provided him with a small touch of comfort and stability, all except for one.
Above him, she mocked and teased like an untouchable princess. Corona Borealis, the crown of stars, somehow spurred his hatred and soothed his soul all at once. It represented the nobility that should have been his, and the evil one who stole that right away. As he considered the ways he would make that one pay, he felt peace.
A scuffle behind him disturbed his thoughts. Resenting interruptions, he masked his ire behind a calm expression. Crossing his arms, he turned around.
"Cap'n, this rotter here thinks he don' need to pull his share. Been giv'n 'ol Vancie trouble about workin' in the galley," Old Red said.
Two laughing pirates nearby silenced and scurried off. The waves lapped harshly against the vessel.
Nicholas raised his chin and looked several feet down at the young lad cowering. At his glare, the boy trembled.
Nicholas cocked a brow and smiled. "Is that so, lad?"
Surprising him, the boy actually responded. "Cap'n, forgive me, sir. I been workin' in the galley since noontime. I worked with Smitty afore that and have chores for Hart in a bit. I only asked for a moment to rest my head. I'm sorry, Cap'n, I'll do better."
Although his blood burned, hiding every thought and emotion was second nature to him now. It was a matter of survival, and Nicholas Collington was a survivor.
"Go to my cabin, boy. Wait for me there."
Old Red smiled, proudly displaying three rotting teeth.
The boy hung his head and went straightway to the captain's quarters.
When the boy was out of earshot, Nicholas turned to Old Red. "Is the lad your slave or my ship hand?"
"We always work 'em the first few weeks. Builds respect it does."
"I'm surprised to hear this news. In fact, it's quite new to me." He took a step toward Old Red and the man backed up, clearly shaken. "It appears I have been remiss in my duties, Old Red. My orders are not being followed as they should."
"Cap'n, I been tryin' to teach these lads respect."
"By treating them worse than when they were on the street?" He felt his anger prickling, "You may take his place in the galley. At next port, you will be free to teach others your unique brand of respect."
Old Red nodded once and seemingly disappeared into the inky night. Nicholas cursed himself. He had felt pity for the old man when he took him in, but something cautioned him against keeping the crusty old pirate. He should have trusted his instinct and made a mental note never to deviate from it again.
He went down the companionway, back to his cabin, and found the boy standing beside his desk. He looked as if he had been physically beaten. Nicholas walked through the lavishly decorated room and sat down behind his desk. His eyes rested on the bottom left drawer. He pulled the handle and found it locked. Good.
The boy swallowed, waiting.
"What is your name, young man?" Nicholas inquired.
"Robert
