Selling the skiff gave me some currency, I then sought passage to a port as close to Savannah as I could find.
It took moths to hunt him down and many threats were made and disappointments suffered in that time.
Eventually, I met a man who described what could not fail to be Flint. For some coin, he was more than willing to tell me his whereabouts.
I found the house sat close to the river bank.
It had been a grand house one day, but now broken shutters hung carelessly from the large windows. Cracking, flaking pillars stood wearily along an ill kept porch, supporting a balcony that ran the length of the second floor.
A large old willow tree sat before the house, shading the entrance from the afternoon sun, making a valiant attempt at masking the dilapidation.
I stood amongst the overgrown garden and my eye was drawn to a small well-tended plot.
A grave.
Sheer panic raced through my veins, I sprang forth towards the stone.
The headstone read simply 'Thomas, my dearest love.' Then an inscription in a foreign language (Latin maybe) That I could not read.
Thomas was dead, but my hopes that he might still be alive were rekindled. I felt relief, I knew I could find other ways to torture Flint.
As I stood gathering myself, I felt the sensation of being watched. I looked up to the balcony and there he stood.
I froze under his gaze.
I had imagined him, this moment, for so many years, yet he still managed to unnerve me.
His hair had grown since last I saw him, and he was slighter. His eyes stared down at me from under furrowed brows. He raised a glass to his lips and drained the contents, never taking his gaze from mine.
Finally. Finally, it would end.
He turned his back and re-entered the house.
Before I knew it I had kicked in the front door, it swung open easily under my foot and I realized that it had been unlocked.
I started for the stairs taking three, four steps at a time.I calmed myself as I neared his room, but my hands shook still. Gathering courage, I felt for my sword and drew my pistol.
Slowly I entered.
The room was furnished with a large unmade bed, small cabinet and an ornate wardrobe.
Flint sat in a high back chair close to the open window leading out to the balcony. A small table stood next to him holding a bottle of rum, in his hand the empty glass. I saw no weapon, and he paid me no attention.
His gaze was fixed out of the window down on the well-kept plot. A small smile touched the corner of his lips as he finally turned to face me.
"I've been waiting ."He poured himself another drink.
"Although," he said raising an eyebrow "I didn't expect it to be you."
I frowned and cocked my pistol. Such hatred I felt, such demons that man had unleashed inside me, turning me into something I did not recognize anymore. I struggled to form words.
" You took everything" my hands shook, " everything from me."
I hadn't anticipated this would hurt me so. Flints face was impassive, his eyes never leaving mine.
" What I did." My voice was on the verge of breaking, I steadied myself. " The monster I have become," I made myself of steel, "It is a monster of your making, and it will be your end. "
Flint smiled " Billy," The sound of my name on his lips gave me cause to shudder. " We have always been monsters, since the day we were born, you and I". He drained his glass amused by his insight.
" I watched you when we fought, when you shot down your brothers. Bared teeth, eyes of ice and fire. A creature of no mercy." He smiled "We tell ourselves we were made into godless creatures, that we are given no choice."
His eyes flickered momentarily, harking back to a different time maybe, before focusing and hardening again, "No Billy. We looked our demons in the face, the ones that hold on so dearly to our evil intent, and we let them out." He suddenly looked bored of the conversation, "It has always been in us,all of us." Flint reached to refill his glass, "Blame me if you must, for your own failure to fight your true self. But know that our actions are ours, without penitence, and ours alone. "
My plans of how I would end this man had disappeared. I found myself crossing the room, dis-guarding my Pistol and sword, my hands reaching for him grasping around his neck. I wrenched Flint up from his seat and flung him down onto the bed, there sat atop him I began to squeeze for all I was worth.
He lay beneath me, his hands curled in the sheets, he showed no opposition as I tightened my grip on his throat. I wrung his airway, still, he did not try to throw me off. Instead, almost as a surrender, he braced himself against the mattress.
I realized then that Flint wanted me to kill him, he was welcoming the death I brought to him.
In all the different ways I had imagined over the years, how this moment would pass, this outcome had never occurred to me.
I felt my eyes starting to fill with tears of frustration.
I could not kill him if that was what he desired.I loosened my grip and his eyes opened; the disappointment evident.
Somehow I dragged myself away from him.
Slowly he sat up rubbing his throat. I gathered my pistol and sword and stood silently.
" You don't wish to kill me then Billy?" his voice was hoarse and mocking.
" You fucking liar." I spat at him. " all for him?" I pointed out to the grave.
"For Thomas," his voice hushed as he spoke his name " I would have done anything."
Ben was right, this was not the Flint I once knew. I wondered for the first time what kind of man Thomas must have been to render him so.
He moved now for the bottle and dis-guarding the glass took a long hard draught.
"You chose to stand against me." He spoke softly looking out of the window rather than meet my eye. " I never wanted to be your enemy."
Again I lunged for him, grabbing fists full of shirt spinning him around so that he faced me. My rage had bettered me again. I shoved him backwards, pinning him against the wall, roaring at him.
" I have never felt such hate, as that which I feel for you." my own voice sounded strange to me "You are the devil himself, sent to torment me. You drove me to this place, broke me and left me with nothing." His eyes twitched but he held my gaze." Turned everyone against me, forced me to do things...things I.." My voice trailed off, I was losing myself to past deeds, things I did not want to remember.
Flint raised his hand and placed it on my shoulder, it felt warm and familiar there.
Suddenly, other memories flooded my mind. Memories of an open sea and a fair wind waiting to be caught,my brothers beside me working together as one. When the sails were full and we were cutting through the blue, that same hand had clapped me on the shoulder with true admiration and I had felt... happiness.
I stumbled away from him. "Don't touch me!"
I realized now I had shown him my weakness, and when I looked upon him I saw that he had pity in his eyes.
This was something I could not bear to stand.
I lurched from his room, out of the house to the cover of that grand old tree and wept for my sorry soul.