Page 9 of Eternal Obsession

The navigator informed me how the captain’s burial had been a traditional ceremony—his body wrapped and cast overboard.

It was over. All evidence was now weighed down and resting soundly on the bottom of the ocean.

Chapter Five

JADEON

Alex’s cheerful nature was often a pleasant contrast to mine. Everyone told us this. They loved how our differences balanced each other, how playfulness met purpose, but balance, as I learned, can be fragile.

At age twenty-three, Alex was a striking man. He was popular with the local girls and I quietly envied his blond curls and blue eyes, which reflected his ebullience. Although not quite as tall as me, his exquisitely chiseled features made the girls dizzy. He seemed not to care. Although I’d ceased teasing him long ago about pirates, I replaced that joke by ribbing him about his many admirers. Very often, I pushed him so far he ended up in a rage, which entertained me to no end. But he would soon come around and see the humorous side.

This day, Alex had searched my usual haunts, eager to pry me off the castle grounds. He found me sitting at the water’s edge, engrossed in the pages of a well-worn novel. Alex hovered over me now, glancing occasionally at the sunset, attempting to assess my mood.

“Jadeon, change your mind. You haven’t been out for the longest time with me.”

“I’ll come with you another time. Next week, perhaps.” I stared at the horizon.

“You said that last time and the time before.”

Looking up at Alex, I envied his sense of freedom. Unable to shake the feeling that I should be somewhere else, I felt uneasy. “Take my horse and saddle if you like,” I said. “I couldn’t stand being around drunken men right now.”

“What if I just stay here until you change your mind?”

“Then you’ll be very bored.” I sighed to exaggerate my point.

“I’ll keep you company.”

Nearby, two squawking seagulls pecked at a half-eaten crab.

“Jadeon?”

“I just need some time. That’s all. Go and enjoy yourself.”

With a pat on my shoulder, Alex reluctantly left me and headed for the stables. He was not the only one who tried and failed at getting me out. My father had given me a horse, an expensive well-bred stallion, in an attempt to console and encourage me to be more social. He had wasted his money. What I really craved was my father’s approval, but he was too overwhelmed with his own grief and preoccupied with his own affairs to really give us any thought. Alex never seemed to mind, but I always felt whatever I did was never enough. Father’s volatile character pushed me away. At the time, I believed he had forgotten us. However, it was not only the death of my mother that pained me, but the void I felt from the loss of Catherine’s company.

If it had been possible to avoid myself, I would have done so. After a while, even the servants would scurry away when they saw me coming, nervous of the broody lad who paced the castle walls with the weight of the world on his shoulders, but no real responsibility to show for it.

As usual, Alex left me sitting at the water’s edge, gazing out to sea, deep in thought. He saddled my spirited black stallion. And as an experienced rider, Alex quickly mastered him. He rode out over the gravel pathway toward the mainland town of Marazion, estimating his arrival at the warm tavern to be within the hour. Alex had arranged to meet with his friends at the Master’s Arms, a popular watering hole located in the center of town, well known for its fine ale and guaranteed lively company. As he rode up the hill passing the small cottages, he considered that on such a fine evening, and riding such a stately horse, he would even consider a visit to the neighboring town of Penzance.

Chapter Six

ORPHEUS

I had not forgotten my promise of another coin for Samuel. I remained on the deck for the remainder of my journey, hoping to catch sight of the small cabin boy. The ship navigated through the busy Falmouth harbor, making good time, skillfully avoiding the other fishing and merchant vessels. I offered condolences for the captain’s death and inquired into Samuel’s whereabouts.

“We have not seen him for some time,” the navigator explained, “but he will be fine. In time, he’ll resurface.”

Upon disembarking, I considered it curious that Samuel had not approached me for his second doubloon, but the hustle and bustle of the busy port soon distracted me. I arranged for my few belongings to be delivered to the local tavern. However, I would not sleep there. I headed to the town of Penzance, the town where Sunaria had last resided.

I soon settled into a new way of life. I often left the province in order to feed and satisfy my insatiable appetite, preying on those who lived reclusive lives so as not to arouse suspicion. Occasionally, I would find myself in a dark alley or down a dusty road, threatened by a drunken sailor or a roving vagabond. Audaciously, I snapped their mortal coil.

One evening, as on so many, I perused the taverns and inns of Penzance in an attempt to gain information. Dressed in the guise of a rich merchant, I wandered into The Old Galleon Inn, the largest and loudest of all the taverns. I sat in the darkest corner, my hands wrapped around a cup of warm ale that would never touch my lips.

Six rowdy men burst through the doors of the tavern, obviously drunk. Raucously they ordered drinks from the cheerful innkeeper, shouting and laughing. Annoyed with their behavior, I stood to go but slowly sat again.

There was something strikingly familiar with one of the six men. Older, yes . . . his face now full, height taller, shoulders broader, his stature that of a man. But it was him. My heart pounded with the steady rhythm of a revenge long kept and carefully tended. It was indeed one of the boys who had witnessed Sunaria’s torture.

I scrutinized the young mortal. The man conversed with his exuberant friends, unaware of my stare. His distinctive aristocratic accent and affluent attire gave away his position. He was the son of a lord. I judged from their fresh order of drinks I had a few minutes before they would leave. I withdrew from the tavern.