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Updated: June 9, 2025
Your refrain is like a sail that is torn by the storm. Sing, sailor!" Khorre nods his head gloomily. "No, I will not sing." "Then I shall force you to pray as they prayed!" "You will not force me to pray, either. You are the Captain, and you may kill me, and here is your revolver. It is loaded, Noni. And now I am going to speak the truth, Captain!
Well, you have astonished me, Noni. How you shouted, 'String him up with a rope! Exactly like your father he almost hanged me, too. Good-bye, Noni, now I understand your actions. Eh, gin! and then on the rope!" Khorre goes off. No one dares approach Haggart; still enraged, he paces back and forth with long strides. He pauses, glances at the body and paces again. Then he calls: "Flerio!
Haggart, swear that it was you who said it: 'The rope broke. Swear that my eyes have not grown blind and that they see Khorre alive. Swear that this is your hand, Haggart!" Silence. The voice of the sea is growing louder there is the splash and the call and the promise of a stern caress. "I swear." Silence. Khorre and Flerio come up to Haggart. "All's ready, Captain," says Flerio.
Terrified, his heavy frame trembling, helplessly pushing the people aside with his hands, he retreats. He turns around. Now he sees the glitter of the metal, the dark and terrible faces; he hears the angry splashing of the waters and he covers his head with his hands and walks off quickly. Then Khorre jumps up and strikes him with a knife in his back.
"Silence, old man, silence!" the abbot stops him, while Khorre looks over their heads with silent contempt. "Haggart, I am asking you, why did you take Philipp's life? He needed his life just as you need yours." "He was Mariet's betrothed and " "Well?" "And I don't want to speak. Why didn't you ask me before, when he was alive? Now I have killed him."
Perhaps a part of a destroyed wall has sunk into the sea. The quivering yellow spots commence to toss about upon the crooked wall more desperately, and Khorre awakes. He sits up on his mattress, looks around, but is unable to understand anything. The wind is hissing like a robber summoning other robbers, and filling the night with disquieting phantoms.
An agitated voice whispers: "Listen! He always begins that way. He gets a hold of your soul at once! Where does he get the power? He gets a hold of your heart!" "I don't like it." "Listen! Now he makes believe he is Haggart, Khorre! Little Haggart in his mother's lap. Look, all hands are filled with golden rays; little Haggart is playing with golden rays. Look!" "I don't see it, Noni.
Why don't you sleep when all are sleeping? Who are you?" "I am the daughter of the abbot of this place." He laughs: "Have priests children? Or are there special priests in your land?" "Yes, the priests are different here." "Now, I recall, Khorre told me something about the priest of this place." "Who is Khorre?" "My sailor. The one who buys gin in your settlement."
Another one is running. Something is wrong." Frightened people are running about in the middle of the night the echo of the night doubles the sound of their footsteps, increasing their terror tenfold, and it seems as if the entire village, terror-stricken, is running away somewhere. Rocking, dancing silently, as upon waves, a lantern floats by. "They have found him, Khorre.
"Take him home, Mariet. Go home, Gart, and sleep more." Mariet comes forward, goes to the door and pauses there. "Gart! I am going to little Noni." "Go." "Are you coming along with me?" "Yes no later." "I am going to little Noni. What shall I tell him about his father when he wakes up?" Haggart is silent. Khorre comes back and stops irresolutely at the threshold.
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