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Rebellion: The Last Rebel
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Chapter 6: Honourable Booty Island

If it all worked out. If he played his cards right when he got to Booty. If he managed to get Marley working on his team, then things could work out well after all. Marley would take care of things on the islands, while Xyzta and Jim would be safe in their cloud. He would of course have to travel between Marley and Xyzta numerous times, but if things went well they might stand a chance against the VoodooLady. A war would be fought, and they would stand victorious or die. And in the victory, peace would finally come back to the triisland area, and he could return to the real world with Xyzta and Jim, if Xyzta wanted to of course. Perhaps they would be awarded a plantation and some land for their deeds? It would be a fine ending to the war. Perhaps they could get another child? And Jim would learn about the world by a tutor. And they would all be happy. They would sit in their garden at noon, listening to the birds chatting and singing in the trees, while watching the new child playing in the garden, perhaps with a runaway chicken? The chicken running away while the child tries to catch it, in and out of sight, around a tree, over the flowerbeds, under the swing, before finally chasing it into the chicken run.
“Angus, Angus!”
The chicken had suddenly transformed into a prepared and cooked one, and the child running after it was now a piece of ham on a platter.
“What?” Angus exclaimed, as he slowly came back from his daydreams. The interruption was annoying him, since this was the first merry thought he had had for weeks now.
“I need to speak to you about something.”
Angus had now noticed that the waiter had been sent out, and that it was only himself and Captain Arana still left in the cabin. He took another bite of his apple, and sipped some wine.
“How did your quest go Angus?” Arana asked. The plate before him was still untouched.
“What?” Angus asked after swallowing his bite.
“The Marquise gave you a mission on Mêlée I seem to remember.” Arana hinted while looking over Angus, trying to see something or another.
“Oh.” Angus had to think a moment before he remembered the mission Arana talked about, so much had happened since that; so many things of greater importance. “It turned out all right I guess.” He said finally, a bit taken back. Why was he asking him about this, and why now?
“Are you sure about that?” Arana asked, while intensifying his glare.
Angus looked back at him, what was the meaning with such a question?
“As sure as I can get.” Angus replied, he could sense a fight, and didn’t want his own anger to trigger it this time.
Arana picked his food with his fork. Wriggling his potatoes around the plate a few times before looking up again, a bit unsure, as if he didn’t really want to say what he was about to tell.
“I’ve heard otherwise.” He looked intently at Angus, as if to seek an answer.
“Otherwise?” Angus sensed what was coming.
“I’ve heard that someone or another had destroyed the whole mission.” Angus opened his mouth, as if to reply to the accusation, but Arana continued before he got a chance to voice his thoughts. “I’ve heard that after an especially successful mission, someone or another came cloaked to the Trade Fleet mansion, and killed off the new leader.” Angus’ senses had been right, and he was just about to reply; but he didn’t get a chance this time either. “And that very someone came with a faked letter of approval from the Marquise, and had left a quite distinguishable and highly recognisable feature on his victim.” Arana looked intently at Angus, as if he was waiting for something.
Angus only looked back He had felt mildly insulted for not being able to be tell anything before, and he surely didn’t want to be some kind of obedient dog for this man.
“Well?” Arana was getting impatient.
“I don’t have to answer to you.” Angus replied, surly.
“It might be wise…” Angus gave Arana a despising look. “Especially when the Marquise is looking for you.” Arana let that information sink in for a moment. “He is his furious over your actions Angus. He has agents everywhere looking for you. I even had to stop some from entering the ship while we were docked on Scabb.”
“But he tried to kill me!” Angus said, not understanding how he could be seen as the guilty one.
“Who? The Marquise?” Arana asked in confusion.
“No Lindy.” Angus said, a bit surprised that Arana didn’t seem to know his story. “He blamed me for the killing the old leader and he sent me with his guards to get me hanged.”
“Are you sure about this?” Arana asked. “What if it was only a show, put on to give the inhabitants of Phatt a scapegoat?”
“A scapegoat indeed.” Angus said, churning despise into the air along the words. “And he would surely have turned it into a show.” He looked at Arana, who still looked puzzled “I’m telling you, he would have killed me. It would have been his greatest pleasure to see me hanged.”
“What makes you think that?” Arana still didn’t seem convinced.
“Let me put it this way: Lindy and I have known each other for quite some time.” Angus said “And it hasn’t been a pleasurable friendship. From the start he despised me. Just because I was a bit harsh with him, you wouldn’t even call it harsh on a regular boat.” Arana looked at Angus, as if he expected a long story. “Well, to make a long story short; he got the crew to go against me, and would have gotten them to kill me if he had gotten the chance.”
“You mean this boy could get a whole crew to go against you?” Arana was still unconvinced.
“Let’s say he had a firm grip on the captain.”
“A snitch in other words?” Arana seemed to know of the type. “A traitor of his crewmates?”
“No, he was an adoptive son of the captain, and the captain hadn’t raised him properly, and was treating him like some kind of child-king.”
Arana nodded his head, and mused over Angus’ words for some time.
“It still won’t stop the Marquise’s men though.” Arana finally said. “But perhaps I can send him a letter, where I explain your side of the story?”
“If that pleases your mind, you can surely do that.” Angus said. His thoughts had again started to turn towards his hopes and plans for the future. “You won’t have to worry about me much longer anyway. I will be out of your and the Marquise way when we get to Booty.”
“Oh, you are leaving?” Arana asked
“Sort of.”
“But the storm-barrier…”
“Somewhere else, my friend”
“Right.” Arana brushed his chin a couple of times, before rising up at the ringing of the ships bell. “Well it won’t be long then, Booty is already in the horizon.”
Angus also got up from his chair, lightening up for the first time since his dream. “It is?”
“Yes, and I will write that letter and send it with some trusted people as soon as we dock.” Arana seemed concerned.
“Don’t worry about me captain,” Angus said, but he saw that this wasn’t enough to take away the concern of Arana, “though I appreciate the thought.” He added a foolish blink with the eye, as if he approved the gesture, even though he didn’t care one way or another about the Marquise’s thoughts about him.
The next moment a crewmember came and said that they wanted the Captain on deck. Arana left with a nod to Angus who also left soon after, heading towards his cabin.
When Angus got into his cabin, he quickly began to pack his belongings into his ships chest. He was close to the end of his quests, and he wanted to be done with it and sail home to Xyzta as soon as possible, hopefully with a new rebellion brewing from Booty.
His packing was going well, when he heard some tapping on his door.
Angus turned as he heard the door creak open, and he saw Arana standing in the doorway.
“Yes.” Angus replied, as he tossed Rapp’s book into the trunk.
“I must say it has been a pleasure doing this trip with you Angus.” Arana smiled, and shook Angus’ hand.
“Yea, it is unfortunate that it has to end so soon.” Angus replied politely.
“That is true.” Arana scratched his chin, as if thinking about something for a moment. He finally gave up the task however. “I heard that things are happening on Booty that might prolong our further travels. And the crew also needs a good shore break. So if you want to join us again when we are able to get out of port, you are more than welcome to.”
“I thank you for the kindness you have shown me Captain. And if I were to travel again on the triisland seas, your ship would be on the top of my wish list.”
“Such wishes please me.”
They shook each others hands again.
“The first rowboat is getting ready to head for port now,” Arana said after hearing some louder yells from the deck. “I reckon you would be on it.”
“Yes, that would be nice.” Angus threw his last things into his chest and closed it.
“I bid you farewell then McDow.” Arana said politely.
“Thanks, and I wish you luck on your further trade-lines Mr.Arana.”
They shook hands a third time and Arana cried out for someone to take Mr. McDow’s luggage.

When he arrived at the docks, Angus fully realised what he had seen on the ship, and what Arana had hinted as a problem for his further travelling. The dock was crammed with people. And small boats where coming and going like ants, carrying all sorts of wares from trade-ships further out in the harbour. It was all rather disorienting, with all the people going to and fro, in the end he was led towards an inner circle of officers handling all the wares and people coming. And in the middle of all the officers he could hear a familiar voice bellowing orders; urging the most expensive spices and the fine clothes by all means not to be dropped on the ground were several baskets of good aubergines had fallen over and already made some havoc. Angus pressed himself forwards. And after a few threatening glares from a few of the officers, and their guards, and a couple of evasion manoeuvres he arrived in front of a well known face.
“Angus!” The face exclaimed, with surprise evident in every fold and wrinkle of his sweaty face.
“Governor Marley!” Angus replied, while eyeing the shocked face. What secrets did this man hide? Angus quickly tried to drive the thoughts away.
“I, I thought you were dead.” Marley said, while his eyes were open and filled with astonishment, though a smile was clearly growing on his face.
“The rumours of my death have been…” Angus stopped in mid sentence. He had felt something strange about that line from the start on. As if it someone tried to force it on him or something. He quickly said something else. “You were wrong, my dear governor, you were wrong.”
Marley didn’t exactly know what to do. He tried to resume his orders, but only rambled. Finally, after a few grave misunderstandings and wares going where they should not, he found out that it was of no use. He gave the task to someone else, and stepped out of the crowd, hinting that Angus too should follow.
He quickly walked away from the crowd and started searching for a wagon. He found no driver though. Finally, he stopped looking when he arrived at a low black one, with a strong looking brown stallion.
“Better drive the darn thing myself then.” He jumped on the seat, and grabbed the reins. “Come on Angus.”
Angus followed up, and Marley started the wagon as he sat down.
“I thought…” Marley started right after, but stopped himself, and looked suspiciously around. “I thought you would visit some time later my friend.” He said it in an obvious acted calmed voice and gave a forced smile to Angus. He also did something strange with his eye, which for some reason or another gave Angus the feeling that he should play along.
“Oh, why is this a bad time to visit my close friend?” Angus asked in wonder. His play wasn’t completely acted.
“Well, you could surely have picked a week less hectic.” Marley then forced a laughter, which seemed to calm him down a bit. “We’re arranging a festival this weekend.”
“I’m sorry for the disturbing your festival then.” Angus said, with a sarcasm that had no hint of acting in it.
“Ah, not to worry.” Marley said, calmer now than he had been since Angus met him on the dock “You’re appearance just took me by surprise that’s all. Last time I saw you, you were having great difficulties in that company you entered. You got out of those nasty businesses by yourself?” He looked at Angus, with wonder and doubt seemingly tearing into his eyes. Angus however only looked puzzled back, he couldn’t understand what Marley meant by companies and getting out, he didn’t know at all what he was talking about.
Marley noted this, and only sighed in return, and scratched his head. It was easy to see that he was somewhat pained by the coming of Angus.
They sat there silent for a moment. Angus was unsure about how he should talk to Marley, with all this acting going on, and Marley seemed to be in deep thoughts.
Then suddenly a fear went over Marley’s face and he looked shocked at Angus. Then he seemed to remember his act in the last moment. Because he calmed, started looking forward again, and with a faked irritation said: “It sure don’t disturbs me that you come here at this moment. But it would be preferable if you made your trip to Scabb, and Phatt first” he had pronounced both Scabb and Phatt louder than the rest of the sentence. “Your contacts there have been waiting for you, and I am afraid that they might have acted without wisdom in your absence.”
Angus now started to understand what Marley was doing, and it pleased him to hear that Marley portrayed such secrecy, and it also pleased him to see how he also must have recognised the problems with Lindy, Rum, and Rapp.
“I am afraid to say that I have dealt with them.” Angus said, playing along, but unable to be completely emotionless in his play. And anyone following their conversation would wonder why such a thing could sadden the newcomer so. “And now I must hear how you have done your business.”
“So you’ve dealt with them?” Marley said in a slight surprise. “That is good.” He seemed merry again, but perhaps slightly worried? “I myself have done well, as you might see. The island is prospering. The crops are doing well. And the crime is minimal. I have also been able to keep our business out of the competitions hands.”
That sounded promising indeed. If Angus had interpreted that in the right way, that is.
The horse wagon finally arrived at the governor’s mansion, where Angus was fitted into a prominent guest room. There he enjoyed the riches alike what he had been bestowed to by Marley on Mêlée a year of ages ago. He also learned that Marley had not given away the last map piece. It was still locked in a wooden closet.
Angus felt safe now, and for the first time in months he felt that he could relax, safe in the knowledge that the last map piece was out of the VoodooLady’s reach. He spent the next few weeks calming down from, and trying to forget, his bloody past along the isles. He felt perfectly safe, even from the Marquise, since Marley had a formidable army that he would surely use to protect his guest. So his time on the mansion was almost like a holliday. There he would talk with Marley about the past, and present (he didn’t want to address the rebellion just yet, since then he had to tell about Lindy, Rapp and Rum. He even tried to evade the topic all together if they closed in on it). He found great joy in the festival, and was looking brightly at the future. The haunting memory of his earlier dealings with Rum, Lindy, and Rap was, though not forgotten, postponed or dimmed down. He really enjoyed himself; at least the weeks of the festival.

The festival was now over. And Angus, just awakening from a long sleep after a large meal, felt thirsty for air and a walk.
He had heard around, and found out that the El Salvador was still in port, but was due to leave on the dawn of the next day. He therefore decided to go down, and take a final goodbye with Arana.
It was a fine day; a slight breeze was blowing from the west and the streets were nearly empty; just a few women were out sweeping the road in front of their white painted brick houses. Angus went on, and tried to come up with something clever or perhaps memorable to say to Arana and wondered if a parting gift of a few doubloons would be rude or not.
He had just entered the dock, when he heard a horrifying scream, as from a beast, from one of the piers. He rushed forward, but was soon stopped and held back by someone that Angus recognised as crewmembers of the El Salvador.
“What is going on?” Angus demanded to know.
But the men where too frightened to answer.
“Let me go then, so that I might check this out myself.”
The men didn’t seem to agree on the logic of Angus words however, and tried to hold him harder, but in this they achieved a lousier grip in which Angus, after a few desperate efforts, managed to get free from.
As he stepped onwards he could hear one of the men say “It is because of you he is like this.” Angus looked puzzled back at the man, but decided that he would not find any answer to what question he might ask.
Angus soon understood, if not what they where talking about, whom they where talking about. At end of the pier, a frenzied Arana stood and threatened one of his men, who hadn’t been lucky enough to get away.
“Search his cabin; rip it all out if it is needed. I need INFORMATION!” His face was blood red, his eyes where bulging and mad like of an animal’s, and the whole man was shaking vigorously. Then suddenly something seemed to snap, and he turned to his terrified victim with wonder. “What am I saying? Tear down his cabin? Our ship is like our house, and our house is like our family, at least where I come from. Go and ask someone on land or something. Just don’t go near his room, at all!” He pushed the man slowly away, as if he was a child, before another snap came along with another hateful rage. “And if you don’t find him, I will personally gut you like a pig, roast you and serve you to the men for dinner!” Then as he let go of the man, and followed him with his eyes as he ran away, he noticed Angus, and he started shaking harder than ever with his head, and Angus thought he saw saliva coming oozing out of his mouth. “You, you!” his rage was unbelievable. It was as if every hateful thought the Captain ever had, and ever would get was directed at Angus, and he had a hard time controlling it enough not to jump at Angus tearing him apart on the spot, and an even a harder time controlling his breath. He was breathing like a heat-struck dog, and frowning like a rabid one. Then he snapped again, his whole body in it, making him look like a beaten piñata, and a huge smile expanded over his face, replacing the horrid mask of hate. “Angus, my dear friend!” He tried to jump up and hug Angus, but Angus was able to get away from the grasp. He couldn’t believe what had happened to the man, and was afraid of what he might do. He had surely gone mad somehow.
He snapped and snapped. And it was soon unclear for Angus when Arana might be merry or grim.
“It was you!” He barked at Angus, who in turn, only looked repulsed at him. “Yea, yea. Don’t point those deery innocence eyes at me traitor!” Angus couldn’t believe what Arana was talking about. The only eyes he must have given him were eyes filled with disgust. “The Marqe, the Marqo, The Marqu…”
“The Marquise?” Angus asked, more to himself than to Arana.
“Silence traitor” Arana spat back. His eyes were shifting as he looked at him, suddenly they seemed somewhat scared, before they twisted back to hate again. “He told me everything!”
Angus didn’t know what he could possibly be talking about, and he was beyond shock and beyond pity for the man in front of him. His stare at the captain was therefore the closest thing you could get to an expressionless one.
“I know everything.” Arana whispered, after seemingly seeing something in Angus face. “He told me every little thing you could possible imagine.” He started to mumble. And rage grew again. Or did it? Without Angus noticing, his face was a great sorrow. And he was practically crying. “We were so close!” he cried at Angus, while pain and fear was deeply scaring his face. And for the first time, Angus could see a normal glint in his eyes. And it occurred to him, that this might be the only time Arana was truly himself. He dared to be more direct at him.
“Close to what?” Angus asked softly, as if to not awaken the madness again.
“To liberation of course.” Arana said proudly, and stood up as if his task had been done.
He was once again lost.
“The liberation of souls” Arana continued, before suddenly grouping down and taking his voice into a whisper. “I was the first one to get free from her grasp you know.”
Angus got a stinging sensation that he was onto something. And was about to ask something, but was cut short with another bailing from Arana.
“But then some dreaded Scotsman came and killed off the chef.” He eyed Angus, but didn’t seem to find anything, and he continued. “And he actually HAD the recipe!” He again started to wail. “I could have been free!”
Arana then went over to a great moan; he got down on the ground, and started shaking in his moaning.
Angus, not sure what to do, ended up putting a hand on his shoulder, in hope of comforting the man.
The response however, was not what he expected. Arana shot up and with even a more horrible gaze, and even more hate and anger boiling in his red face; he ground his teeth at him.
“Look at what you have done Angus McDow!” he snarled at Angus. “Look at another soul you have destroyed, and know KNOW that you have been the ruin of us all! That the VoodooLady will forever rule over us because of you” He lowered his back, and looked deeper in Angus’ eyes. “You are hated Mr. McDow, hated more than anyone else. And only death awaits you now.”
“Your blood will run from your body today, Scotsman” Arana then looked at Angus with a morbid sly smile. “Bwhahahahha!” He shouted, and jumped off the dock while shaking and flapping like a shot bird, ever snapping till he met the water.
He would never be heard of again, in living form that is; he was later a critical element in a popular drinking song about the two runaways Bob and Ben from Barbados, finding their rescue and refugee in a poor dead mans corpse, but that is another tale which is highly unsuitable at this place.

Angus stood alone and quite shaken at the dock, looking over the dockside after anything that could be seen left of the mad Arana. He saw nothing though, and he, after a long wait, left the docks and headed for the mansion. He could do nothing further at the moment. And perhaps Marley could help him find out what had happened to Arana?

Angus didn’t get any help from Marley though, not at all.
He was just about to get off the horse wagon, when he noted someone running down the stairs of the mansion. It was Marley, with a bright red face.
“You should exercise more often Governor, if such a small staircase burdens you so.” Angus said jokingly, but he instantly understood his error. The governor wasn’t red out of the effort of the stairs, but by a great rage.
“You didn’t have enough fun insulting Lindy, what?” Marley said with despise.
Angus couldn’t believe it; did Marley know of what had happened to Lindy? He sure looked angry enough for it.
“What?” Angus replied, trying to convince Marley that he didn’t know anything of what he might be hinting to. His effort was futile however, his reply had come too late, and too shockingly once it did come.
“I guess I’m the last one on your hit-list right?” Marley was still red, but was starting to calm down now, as his anger had focused on something.
So he did know of it. Angus concluded. He knew of it all then. Or did he?
“List of what?” That line was much better. And could have been successful, if it hadn’t been for the anger in which it had been spoken. Perhaps Angus started to fear what might come, and started to get ready for it? In any case, his line would not have any success after his former failure.
“I knew you were a maniac and I still wonder what was wrong with me to introduce you into our rebellion in the first place; which you have now so perfectly destroyed. But that you also were a liar Angus? Hah! I guess you weren’t even aiming to destroy the VoodooLady’s at all.” Marley calmed down a bit, enough for the thought to root in his mind. “Of course! I wouldn’t truly believe it then, but now I see it. As clear as the sky! All along. How could I be so stupid?” He shouted his thoughts aloud, and when he noticed that he did so, he looked up at Angus even madder than before. “Traitor!” He spat at Angus.
Angus however, only laughed at him. He was tired of it all, and beyond fear and doubt. He might have felt pity for Marley’s speculation if he hadn’t been so tired of his own speculations that had raged in his mind for years now.
“You are calling me a traitor? You are still not able to see beyond the tip of your nose.” Angus noted that Marley started to get angrier, so he decided to keep to business. “It was Lindy, oh high Governor Marley, who betrayed us all! It was him who destroyed us in the first place, and he was the one who betrayed us to the VoodooLady.”
“How dare you?” Marley got even more agitated by Angus accusations.
“Are you truly so blind Marley?” Angus shook his head over the Governor. “How, and perhaps more importantly why do you think Lindy got his position in the Trade Fleet?” The question went straight through Marley though, as if he didn’t even hear it. “And why do you think that the Trade Fleet got strong right after Lindy got onto the team?” Neither this though seemed to make Marley any more sympathetic to Angus case; it actually seemed to make Marley even angrier. “And why do you think that the VoodooLady has kept a low, if not unseen profile since the Trade Fleet made its rule over the area?”
“I don’t like your speculations boy.” Marley said lowly, as if to threaten Angus into silence.
“Don’t you see? Lindy played against us all the time.” Angus didn’t get discouraged by Marley’s words, but perhaps motivated? “He has wrecked the mind of Rum.”
“Alcohol” Marley said, almost as a reflex.
“More to it than that, my old friend” Angus said matter of factly. “And he stole Rapp’s map piece.”
“Speculations!” Marley was not buying anything Angus said.
“And now, my friend” Angus started, feeling almost hopeless, while his anger over the whole situation of Lindy egged him on, as his consciousness tried to defend itself. “I see the last victim of that manipulative kid.”
Marley gave him a look that seemed to dare him to finish his thought.
“You!” Angus said loudly, free from fear, and free from worry about what would happen. He wanted to clean things up now, clear them up for good. “Just look what he has done to you.”
“How dare you?” Marley said, getting even redder in the face. He might have anticipated Angus’ words, but his deeper self wouldn’t make him see the truth in them.
“He was born on the inside of the storm-ring Marley!” Angus said, in a voice that almost seemed apologising. “Can’t you see? Inside!”
“How DARE you?” Marley said again, raising himself, as if try and look down at Angus.
“It is the truth, Marley. And I am truly sorry that you can’t see it.” Angus was now sad. His fearlessness and anger had faded away. He had now at last understood that Marley could never be saved from his feelings for Lindy.
It therefore didn’t come as a big surprise for Angus, when Marley “felt humiliated”, and wanted a duel to compensate his broken pride.
At that moment a parrot flew out from the mansion, and started circling them. It was the governor’s greatest pride, though it didn’t seem like it now. It kept shouting “No fight! No Fight!” and whatever Marley and his men would do, they couldn’t catch the bird, or chase it away.
The strange incident of the coming bird didn’t mean anything to Angus however. He did feel a strange sense of déjà vu, but he ultimately couldn’t refuse the duel. To refuse would mean that he had insulted a man and didn’t stand for what he had said. He would be a man without honour. So he had to fight. He was a man of honour now, and wasn’t Marley just as bad as the other three? He was in any case much more naïve than Rum and Rapp. No, Angus wouldn’t lose his honour on this disgrace. He agreed to the duel.

They stood on the town square. A judge had been called to oversee the duel, and they were both holding a firm grip on their rapiers as the battle waned on and their hands became more and more sweaty and slippery.
The fight hadn’t gone on too long yet. Marley had struck and slashed wildly, as if he expected Angus to drop dead if he only managed to hit him hard enough. Angus on the other hand, had only deflected the blows and strikes, while eying the opponents fighting style and clearly outlying the great holes in his defence.
He was thinking about the other three, and how horrible it had been for Angus to kill them. How unhonourable it had been. This fight however, was not unhonourable. They where indeed fighting over honour, but yet. As Angus had slashed away Marleys rapier, jumped away from another blow, and struck his own rapier into the chest of his opponent, straight into his heart, with enough force to make the rapier go out through his back, he lost the feeling of justice that had followed him through the whole fight and had climaxed in his attack.
As Angus jammed the rapier through Marley’s heart, the sickening feeling from Rapp’s kitchen returned, and he couldn’t see how this kill was any better than the other three; they where all equally horrible, and useless.
He had shakily pierced the governor’s back, and he finally let go of the handle of his rapier, and looked down at the former governor of Booty, when he suddenly realised how wrong his illusions of honour had been. It had only been a tool for his crocked mind. So while his evil calculating mind had voted for pride and honour, his heart had cried and desired reason, and action upon knowledge. Rules can be bent to your wishes, but knowledge can only give you the truth, no matter if you want it or not. Angus realised that he had been wrong in every step of this journey, and that only at the end did he understand how. He had hidden behind his veil of ignorance, clinging to his artificial rules of behaviour, never seeking the truth because he didn’t dare face it. There was no true victory by honour, pride or resolve.
As Angus left the duelling area, and entered the horse wagon that was going to take him to the governor’s mansion for his possessions, he decided to leave pride, and what people so enthusiastically called honour behind on the town square.

Angus had gathered all his belongings, from the mansion, into the horse wagon, due to the harbour, and was just about to enter it, when another wagon came racing towards him. The wagon stopped, and guards rushed out, followed by a cloaked man, wearing some too familiar clothes. It was the leader of the rebellion of the rule of Mêlée.
“Angus McDow,” The cloaked man called. “We need to talk.”
It was impossible to escape Angus decided. This man was guarded by musketeers, and he wouldn’t get even ten feet before he would lay dead on the ground, with a bullet as the killer.
He walked obediently over to the cloaked man.
“You are the Marquise right?” The doubt about that matter would at least be cleared.
“Not any longer, I am afraid.” The man replied, and bade Angus follow him, surprisingly enough into the garden unguarded. “That title was indeed nothing more than a show-off. Though I did hope that we could make it official after we took care of the Trade Fleet.”
“So what is your true name then, since I can’t call you Marquise?” Angus surely hoped for a proper reply this time. Perhaps he could escape in the garden, but in any case he wanted some answers first.
“I guess it won’t hurt that you know now,” The man said almost in a laugh. “our secrecy is fading anyway.”
He then lifted of his hood, and a rather ugly, dark but as for the moment welcoming face with an oily black ponytail, smiled at him in a glare, as if he assumed that Angus should remember something by the grimace.
“Yea, that’s right, you never DID see my face did you?” Angus only looked puzzled at him, so he continued. “My name is Marco Le Grande, the last man except you now who are ‘awake’.”
“Marco?” Angus asked, wondered about where he had heard that name before, though the truth revealed itself to him soon after. “You where the one who robbed us back at Mêlée!”
“I’m sorry about that,” Marco said in a smile, finally getting the response he seemed to have been waiting for. “It was on one of my more questionable days.”
“I’ll say. You said you double-crossed the VoodooLady because she didn’t give you enough money?” Angus said, wondering how much better it would be to have this man controlling the triisland area than Lindy. “And you still think that we, I, am going to fall for that?”
“It’s more to it now.” Marco said, taking off his cloak altogether; revealing normal clothes beneath. “I did organise the rebellion against the trade fleet, as you you’ve self seen helped served the VoodooLady’s intentions suspiciously well.” Angus had to agree to that, though he wondered whether this man had spied on him during his conversation with Marley, or if parts of their conversation were common knowledge due to the duel. Some moving bushes came into the memory of Angus, and he settled for the first speculation, though with more than a little uneasiness. “And you also had the pleasure to meet my friend Arana…” Marco stopped, and a smile was lurking again.
Angus was curious about what had happened to the poor captain. “What about him?”
“He was about to be the trapped mind, transformed to its original free form, from before the VoodooLady’s curse.”
“I don’t believe you.” And how could he? Marco had robbed him, or his former friends, and tricked him into the quest that would lead into the killing of all these former friends.
“He was in fact halfway through the transformation when you met him back on Mêlée.” Marco said, and eyed Angus as if he was to understand everything about Arana from that information. When he understood that it didn’t work though, he continued. “I am telling you, he was halfway there. Rapp Scallion has been mixing potions for us ever since my rebellion started. I got in contact with him, and we tested them all on Arana. What a poor kid. He was originally from Barcelona you know, and was something one might call a half-nobility, with the name of Ricardo Marano. You know the name?” Angus didn’t answer; he didn’t care for life stories at that moment, at least not from such a crock as Marco. “Well, it was indeed once quite well known, but I see that you don’t care about his tragic family story. The VoodooLady however mocked the boy, and gave him a Basque past, destroying everything that he had once treasured in his life. He had become a twisted and tired man when I got hold of him.” Something about Angus’ face made him stop talking. “Oh well, no story for you then grumpy-face. Rapp told some of my contacts on Scabb that he finally had the recipe for what he thought was the finished potion, the potion that would cure the whole triisland area from the mind curse of the VoodooLady. And thus I wanted to speak with you now, with the tragic death of the chef and all. Perhaps you saw something in his kitchen or his room when you did your own share of the cooking?” Marco gave a smile, as if he was joking about ordinary things when he mentioned Angus’ “cooking”.
“No” Angus replied surly.
“Perhaps a little book?”
“No!” Angus replied stronger.
Perhaps there was something more important than he had first believed in that book? Angus could surely not believe that Marco could in any way be interested in the liberation of the triisland area.
“I better leave with my wagon now.” He said, and started to walk away from Marco.
“You could sit on with me,” Marco said, trying to hold Angus back “perhaps you would like Ricardo’s story more than you think?”
Angus refused however, and took his wagon down to the docks, where he unloaded his things.
He sat down on his ship chest and looked at the sky turning red. It was the eve of the day, and the end of what seemed like a failed, though finished quest. He bowed his head, and looked at the stones instead. As if he was unworthy of looking at the skies, that somewhere held his loved ones.
Then suddenly he felt something on his head. A small beast?
He looked up, and saw a small sparrow in front of his face, singing to him, and flying forward to the boats and back again. Angus got up and tried to follow the bird, it almost looked like it wanted something.
It ended with the bird leading him to a small rowboat, and perching itself on the prow. Angus didn’t know why, but he felt that this was his way back home. He loaded the rowboat with his valuables and rowed out; ignoring the yelling of the angry owner of the boat, while following the small sparrow with steady oar-strokes. The bird had flew up over him, and seemed to give him directions. And after following the bird for only a few strokes, a strong current took hold of the boat, and the bird returned to the prow. Angus took this as a sign and hauled in his oars and lay down.
He had done what he was supposed to, but in all the wrong ways. He had now killed of the last man of the old rebellion, but didn’t feel sick anymore, he felt that his killings where behind him now, since he had learned truth from them.
The bird seemed to nod at him, and Angus fell to sleep.

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