Untilted Historical Novel - Pr

Untitled Hisotrical Novel - Prologue

The dark cabin of a merchant ship shrouded two figures, as they reflected on their life's fortune and sudden misfortune.  A lone lamp swung in mute knell.  Staring at each other over the surface of a rickety table, the couple silently prayed.  Locked forever in the bowels of a ship was not how they envisioned their death.  However, the ferocity of the storm tossing their vessel across the waters of the Atlantic was quite convincing.  
A soft smile twisted the corners of the woman's age thinned lips.  In the least, they had enjoyed much time together and would not need suffer one without the other.   She stretched her thin pale arm toward her companion.  Without question, he clasped the digits of her hand in his.  He offered a wavering smile, hoping to gird her with strength if his had left him.  She smiled more deeply, now reflecting on better days, when his crown was wreathed in sable and her own tresses were not so dusty.
"I hope this storm lets up soon," the old man suddenly spoke.  His voice was mournful, unable to hide his fears.  "I'd fancy a pipe before bed.  I'd hate to the cabin with the smell.  I know how much you dislike it."
"It should, it should," she replied.  Her eyes wandered with the lamplight.  "Twouldn't be so bad, if you must though."
Silence coffined them.  The lamp swung.  
"Can't wait to see Elle!" the woman burst forth suddenly.
The old man made an agreeing sound.  His thumb absently caressed his wife's knuckle.  He eyed the golden circlet he had placed there what seemed eons ago.  Again silence took them, if you could call it silent.  The creaking of the ship, the swing of the lamp, the beating of the storm all made a din that rivaled the deepest battle.
The room tossed again, sending the light cascading wildly about.  The lamp swung free of its hook and fell to the floor.  The shadowy room became stark black.  The couple's hands parted quickly in their panic to grasp their seats.  They held their breath, waiting for what they believed sure to come.  Slowly, their eyed returned to where they once saw each other.   
Lightening flashed in the port holes, illuminating the dark cabin for a moment.  The thunder crashed, startlingly loud and the door of their cabin slammed open.  Standing in the bright light of a lantern in the passage beyond, a pair of shadows loomed, water dripped from their hats and coats.
"Come on deck," the first cried to them.  The ship swayed and water pooled about his boots.  "She's taking on water, we need to abandon ship," he urged.
The couple stared at the dark figure, unable to clearly make his features or fathom his words.  
"You must hurry," he urged them.
The couple gained their feet reluctantly.   The old woman clutched at her chest, watching the water swirl in the passageway.  Her husband put his arm around her for reassurance and guided her from the dark cabin behind the shadow.  
As the group traversed the narrow passage, water cascaded down the ladder and splashed over their legs.  The bowels of the ship groaned.  
The couple eyed the swirling eddy, pausing in fear of what they faced above.
"We must go," the first shadow urged again.  "There's not much time."
The shadowy figure's booming voice woke them to action.  They followed him with no more question.
Gaining the deck, the couple was met by a vicious wind that pasted their garments to their bodies and pressed them back to the dark opening from which they had come.  Clinging to each other more tightly, they wondered if the storm wished them to remain coffined below.  Their questioning eyes searched the scene from mid ship to bow.   The sailors seemed little concerned by the storm.  They felt quite inclined to take the wind's heed and return to their cabin, as fear of the storm was replaced by suspicion.
"Get to the rail," the first shadow said, tucked deep in the cowl of his coat's hood.  "My men will lower you to the boat waiting."
"Yet everything seems fine," the old man piped up.  "Would we not fare better in a damaged vessel than one far too small for these seas?"
A grin flashed beneath the cowl, "You won't think so when this hull sucks you to hell with it.  We've not much time to board the boats and row out of the ships reach."
The old man sternly stared at the shadowy figure.  His frown descried his doubt.  Guiding his wife, he turned away and made his way to the rail.  The sea struck the bulkhead and rained down over them.  They clung to each other for safety.   Returning his gaze to the shadow, the old man waited.
A grin flashed inside the cowl of the shadow's coat hood.  It struck ice into the old man's bones.  He set his jaw against the words boiling into his mouth.  Before the protest crashed like the waves on the deck, a pair of the crew members threw rope about him and the woman he held.  
"You'll not get away with this," the old man warned, finally able to speak against the truth ensnaring them.
The old woman at his side looked to the sailors surrounding them.  Confusion clouded her eyes, until reckoning brightened them.    Fear twisted her features and her eyes swept to the shadow and then to her husband and back.  Together, they stood proudly, defying the suggestion the situation made.  
"There's none here to stop me," the shadow replied.
"You'll never obtain what you seek," the old woman spat angrily.
The cowl chuckled at her words.
"Enough of you old woman, enough of both of you," the shadow growled.  "Grace my decks no more."
The rope snapped tight.  In a flash, the couple disappeared from where they stood.  No splash announced there going overboard.  The sea rose and sprayed the deck.  The storm raged.  Then, the laughter from the cowl rose menacingly and mad.
The sailors slowly gathered at the rail, nearly solemn despite their complicity in the act.  They looked back to the shadow with something like contempt on their faces.