Fortune’s mind flashed back to the fetid stench of death in The Relentless’s steamy hold as it carried him across the Great Ocean. He remembered that solemn vow to seize just one opportunity to reclaim his honor. Fortune reasoned he must understand the pale man’s way of thinking to find out their weaknesses. Then, armed with that knowledge, he aimed to make good on his escape. So tonight, another step forward in his grand scheme was consummated under silent conspiracy of evening stars.
On the night of their first rendezvous, Fortune looked upon the large, faded brown book that would be his next inspiration. Nathaniel tapped the weathered bible with soft respect.
“This here is the Good Book, Fortune. Would you believe that wife of Mr. Whip gave this to me? Mr. Whip is what we call Harrist
