Demise of a patriot.

The foreman took his hat off and turned it over in his hands nervously as he waiting on the main deck for the watchman to fetch the first mate. His hands were rough and blackened from working in the foundry and his muscles were thick and well defined. He was a hard worker and an honest man; loyal and kind to his family, friends and company.

He waited patiently at the top of the gang plank as the Luron De Mer was docked to the wharf to unload goods to the New Orleans warehouse.

After several minutes the watchman emerged from below decks followed by Zacharie Sommer, the ship’s first mate; he was of average height and build, with no distinct features. “Hello Bram; Leslie said you wanted to speak to me?”

The foreman bowed slightly and blurted out his reasons for being there without much consideration as to who might hear, “Begg’n your pardon Zach, but I’m greatly worried ‘bout the captain; he’s not left his room for over four days now and…”

Zach put his hand up to stop the foreman from continuing and led him down the gangplank to where they could speak more privately. “I understand your concern Bram, you’re a good man and want to help, but Benoit is going to need to work this out in his own way and on his own schedule.”

Still fidgeting with his hat, Bram spoke quickly and shakily as if the words were a great burden which he needed to be rid of, “But the men spoke of crashes and loud screams coming from the captain’s room; they’re start to make talk of demons and such.”

Zacharie reflected back five days prior to when he had first peaked at the import looking letter addressed to Commandant Bontecou; whishing there was some way he could change the information within and somehow prevent the knowledge from ever being known. But, something like that, one might as well try to deny knowledge of the sun or moon. He had resealed the envelope with great despair before taking it down to the little room in the back of the foundry where Benoit stayed while they were in New Orleans. He hadn’t stayed to see his captain’s reaction, nor to give him any condolences; knowing there was nothing he could do to help.

Zach recalled the night Benoit had confronted the former mayor of New Orleans after learning of the man’s plot to kill him. He shivered at the thought; he had saw something in Benoit that night that was not human and the images were not something he would likely ever forget. Demons he thought; that description might not be far off. He stoped his walk towards the end of the wharf and turned towards the foreman.

“Trust me Bram, you do not want to be near the hurricane that is Benoit Bontecou right now, best you just let him work this out and come out on his own; that’s best for all of us… and for him right now.”

Bram thanked the first mate for his time and made his way back towards the forge; still worried about the man who employed him.

- - -
The little room at the back of the forge was very Spartan, having just a small table with two chairs, a bed with a night stand, and a bear skin rug set on the stone floor in front of a small fireplace. The door was solid oak and the cross bar was in place, keeping its occupant secluded from the rest of the world. One of the chairs was smashed into so many pieces as to be unrecognizable and the bed had been flipped on its side with the linens strewn all about. Little pieces of broken glass covered the floor of the entire room and all the pictures on the walls had been torn; their frames broken. All save for one, a picture of a couple holding their new born baby, which sat untouched above where the bed used to be.

On the rug lay a man clothed only in his dark blue trousers; the bottoms of his feet bloodied and stuck with bits of glass. His right fist was burnt badly and clenched tightly around a piece of paper. The edges of the paper were charred and its interior smudged with tears and blood making it unreadable.

The corpse laid there for two more days before the door was finally forced open and discovered. Seven days later the bodies of Benoit’s wife and daughter arrived in port and the family was buried together in the cemetery just outside of town.

Bognor Regis slowly removed his hat when he heard the news. Turning away, so the other patrons of the inn would not see his tears, he murmured, "Ach, mate, your strength, your loyalty and your heroic bravery is as a testament to all the Confederacy stands for. May you rest in peace."

Standing at a distance beneath the boughs of a live oak, Campbell could do little but bow his head in silence, reflecting on recent events. He'd known little of the man being laid to rest only a few paces away; what he did know however, he remembered with a certain fondness. He'd shared a casual drink, a passing salute and often chuckled at the humor of his Compatriot, Captain Benoit Bontecou.

Now he stood watching a man he hardly knew, but could honestly say he liked, being buried; making his final voyage, to wherever sailors go. His eyes met Bognor's for an instant and saw the pain there; he'd seen that same look so many times in his life...too many times. A lump stuck in his throat, but at the very least, the fact that Benoit would make the journey with his loved ones brought him a degree of comfort.

He stood now in the fading light, alone except for the whisper of a slight breeze and a meadowlark, warbling in the meadow next to the small cemetary. Laying his hat on the ground, he spoke in a whisper...

"May the sunshine warm yer face, the moon light yer path, ahn a gentle breeze always be tae yer back.."

Then picking up his pipes, he said farewell in the only way he knew......

The old Bishop wept silently as he read the report. Benoit Bontecou had been with the guild from as far back as Aidan and had a tremendous reputation both within the guild and without. The news of this brave patriots death would surly bring more than a small measure of ease to many Priates and Brits. But he was as kind and generous as he was brave and that was what Aidan would miss the most.

"Fairwell old friend and may St. Brendan guide you to your well deserved rest" Aidan prayed.