Captain Merrick stood at the bow of the Redemption, arms crossed over his chest. A sliver of a moon frowned on him from a night sky as stormy as his raging thoughts. With each heave of his ship, spray blasted over him. It did nothing to cool his temper. The shot of rum he had downed a minute ago was also having no effecteither in warming his belly, or in numbing his pain. Perhaps he needed another.
Images of the blazing churchthe last place he had seen Charlisseconsumed his visions day and night. Was it only the church that had burned? For as he'd stood and watched the fire consume the last timber of sacred rubble, the blaze of bitterness in his soul seemed to consume his faith along with it. Unable to pray, unable to utter even a word to the God who'd allowed this to happen, he encased himself in a lonely shell of self-pity.