James R. Andersen

   The humming and droning of insects vibrated the heavy humid night air. A crescent moon peeked out from behind clouds passing high above, casting a dim light which failed to penetrate the murky marshes. The reeds and grasses were silent, no breeze whispered through their stalks. The insects chirped and buzzed away.  A paddle broke the stillness of the water, which rippled gently away shimmering in the tenuous starlight. Large black hulks glided silently through the marsh. An oar hit something hard and an alligator splashed away noisily into the reeds. “Careful!” the coxswain hissed in a sharp whisper.  The men in the boats looked like ghouls sent from hell. Gaunt grim faces starkly shadowed in the dark, piercing eyes scanning like ravenous beasts. Knives glinted from between their teeth; their hands wrapped around  cruel weapons.  The first boat thudded softly into the muddy bottom and without a word its crew slid out, knee-deep in the black water, and ...

  “This will not stand!” The Viscount-Governor paced his office, dodging ornate side tables.  “Hear-hear your Excellency! It shan’t!” Lord Baine interjected, holding a bandage to his head.  “Our guardsmen slaughtered…my trusted advisor abducted!” The Viscount Governor’s massive wig shook, “How could they have escaped!” He pointed an intricately carved cane at the captain of the guard, who stood sheepishly in the corner. He replied lowly: “We heard nothing of what happened until morning…we couldn’t have…”  “Enough of your excuses!” The Viscount-Governor smacked his cane on the mahogany floor “I need someone who can provide results!” The Lord Baine nodded in approval and ruffled his mustache. There was a knock on the door.  “What is it?” The Viscount-Governor inquired wrathfully “The Commodore is here, your excellency.” A deferential voice said from beyond the door. “Ah why didn’t you say so, send him in!”  The servant’s footsteps faded away down the hall, fo...