Black Bartlemy’s Treasure by Jeffery Farnol, Fiction, Action & Adventure, Historical, Classics

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Two men had I seen die beside me, yet Death ever passed me by, nay, it seemed rather that despite the pain of stripes, despite the travail and hardship, my strength waxed the mightier; upon arm and thigh, burned nigh black by fierce suns, the muscles showed hard and knotted; within my body, scarred by the lash, the life leapt and glowed yet was the soul of me sick unto death. But it seemed I could not die – finding thereby blessed rest and a surcease from this agony of life as had this Frenchman, who of all the naked wretches about me, was the only one with whom I had any sort of fellowship. He had died (as I say) with the dawn, so quietly that at first I thought he but fainted and pitied him, but, when I knew, pity changed to bitterness.

Therefore, as I strove at the heavy oar I prayed ‘twixt gnashing teeth a prayer I had often prayed, and the matter of my praying was thus:

O God of Justice, for the agony I needs must now endure, for the bloody stripes and bitter anguish give to me vengeance – vengeance, O God, on mine enemy!