Across The Sea by Eric Marier Page B

lying, betraying and killing. The only one that would
have England’s Royal Navy using all of her resources to pinch.
There is only one treasure that could inspire this much terror and
death. And that, my little boy, is the Treasure of Atlantis.”
    The hair at the back of
Francis’ neck stood on end. “The Treasure of Atlantis is just a
story,” he rebuffed. “It was made up to make kids make their
parents buy them books. It doesn’t exist.”
    Bodin smirked, lifting his gaze
back toward the sea ahead.
    “I want you to tell me the
truth,” Francis demanded.
    “Little boy, what do you really
know of truth? But you’re correct if you believe the stories you’ve
read, the stories written by Thinwinn, are fiction. Hadware
Thinwinn died a very wealthy man. But as a British officer, he was
intimately familiar with the many obsessions of men at sea; the
foremost being Atlantis, and its treasure. He may have created all
the adventures and the characters but not the Treasure. The
Treasure has always been; ever since Atlantis sank into the sea,
thousands of lifetimes ago.”
    “Where’s my brother?” Francis
asked. He was tired of games. Tired of Bodin’s lies. “My brother
would never risk people’s lives for some stupid treasure. He’s not
like you. He’s not some greedy, callous ogre.”
    Bodin smiled again, and then
looked Francis in the eye, giving him a cool look, one with
smouldering, murderous rage lingering just underneath. “I don’t
take too kindly to insults. Especially ones spouted from little
people such as you.”
    Francis’ face blushed. He was
scared, but still determined to get an answer. “Where is Michael?”
he asked, point-blank.
    Bodin looked up ahead. He said
nothing for a moment, before revealing, “Your brother had the
misfortune of coming across some valuable information while at
sea.”
    “What kind of information?
About the treasure? Where the treasure is?”
    “Exactly,” Bodin admitted. “And
extracting that information is proving impossible. That’s why
you’ve become such a commodity. Everyone wants to use you to break
him.”
    “I won’t help you.”
    “Little boy, you are not blind,
are you? Or have you not taken a good enough look? You no longer
make decisions for yourself. I do that for you now.”
    “Where is Michael?” Francis
asked, his jaw tensing with anger.
    “He’s under guard. Far away.
And the information he possesses, well… there’s now another
complication. But you and I will fix that. Together.”
    * * *
    Captain Strick, his face
bruised, and underneath his uniform, his torso wrapped in a white
cloth, sat behind his desk in his ship’s chambers. Across from him
sat Vice-Admiral Wister. Behind the Vice-Admiral, Kenworth and a
few of the crew stood by the wall.
    “Late in the evening,” the
Vice-Admiral began, “First Lieutenant Templeton was appointed
Captain of the HMS Whisper and left at once to pursue Bodin. You
shall set out today as well. Gustavo Leonard may have been slowed
after yesterday’s skirmish; however, we can no longer assume that
he remains in Grand Marine. Throughout the night, all docks in the
city were patrolled and every vessel inspected. As of this morning,
nothing has been found.”
    A knock sounded at the
door.
    “Enter,” Captain Strick
ordered. The door was opened by a sailor guarding it. Two other
sailors entered the room.
    “She is in the side
bedchamber,” the Captain informed them.
    The two sailors stepped toward
the small side door.
    Captain Strick gave
Vice-Admiral Wister an apologetic look. “I beg your pardon,
Vice-Admiral, but I fear there is little time to take care of this
matter.”
    “It’s all very well,” the
Vice-Admiral replied.
    The two sailors walked back
from the side door, escorting Lily away. She was wearing her
ripped, dirt-stained dress again. She stared straight at the
Captain. “I’m not leaving,” she exclaimed. “You need me.”
    The Vice-Admiral and the crew
said nothing,