Devil's Ballast

by Meg Caddy

  ‘Governor Rogers.’ My voice was wheezy. I coughed to clear my throat and spat on the flagstones.

  Rogers set his jaw. ‘Mrs Bonny. Have a little dignity.’

  ‘Have they found Calico?’

  He ignored the question. ‘I received petitions today on your behalf, Mrs Bonny.’

  My heart lightened. The old man must still be trying to get me out of the cell. ‘And?’

  Rogers sighed. ‘My experience has told me that you are clever, deceitful, and utterly without shame.’ He held up a hand before I could make a comment. ‘However, I have been convinced that there is someone in Nassau with a claim on you, and I believe him to be capable of keeping your wildness in check this time.’

  Someone stood behind Rogers but the light behind made him a silhouette and I couldn’t make out any features. Fletcher, I thought. I felt a flare of warmth for the man, chased by a pang of regret: I’d been sharp towards him, ungrateful.

  Rogers stepped aside and the other man stepped into the gloom.

  ‘Hello, Annie.’

  I thought I could hear the ocean but it was just the blood rushing in my ears.

  I couldn’t breathe.

  His good looks were stained with drinking and weeks of grime. Triumph flushed his cheeks, gleamed in his eyes. He carried a gun. He raked his gaze over me. My courage failed, curled up somewhere deep within me.

  ‘Mister Bonny came to me not long ago to present his own petition.’

  Rogers’ words swam around me. I struggled to grasp them. I couldn’t breathe.

  ‘It is a rather unusual situation, to be sure. But the cells in this fort are already stuffed with pirates of greater note than yourself. If Jonathan Barnet returns with evidence against you then you will be taken into custody again. For now the charges are, as Mister Fletcher pointed out, the commoner crimes of adultery and prostitution.’

  ‘Wait…’

  ‘You will be the sole responsibility of your husband from this point, Mrs Bonny, and he has the legal obligation to discipline you as he sees fit.’ Rogers’ voice was clear and calm. ‘I hope you will not give him reason to do so.’

  ‘Don’t…’

  James walked forward and another man stepped into the cellar, joining him. They took my arms.

  ‘Don’t touch me!’ I tried to jerk them away but they held tight. One of the guards came in to loose my feet from where they were chained to the wall. I kicked and they pinned my legs, their fingers digging into my thighs, my calves.

  ‘This is the last clemency you will receive from us,’ Rogers said over my curses.

  They forced my feet into new manacles. The shackles clipping into place pinched my skin bloody. I bucked and threw my head back. The three men pinned me, smirking. Holding me still until Rogers finished speaking.

  ‘If you are brought before us again, madam, you will not find mercy.’

  ‘Don’t do this! You bastard, don’t do this!’

  The guard slapped me across the face. My head whipped back. I tasted blood. My neck throbbed.

  James caught a handful of my hair and pulled me upright. ‘Settle, Annie,’ he murmured in my ear. ‘I’m taking you home.’

  Woodes Rogers stepped aside. ‘Take her through the main street,’ he said. ‘I want to send a message.’

  28

  BONNY

  The sun baked the sandy streets of Nassau. Men and women called their wares from fish markets along the docks. The briny stench of fish was flat on the air, only broken by the occasional sweep of wind off the ocean. Pink conch shells lined the water’s edge, scooped out of the water and gutted of the pearly flesh inside. Half-naked children dashed across jetties and pulled small boats out into the harbour waters.

  Or I assume they did. I saw none of it.

  I was screaming as James and his accomplice dragged me through the main street. The manacles were heavy. My bare feet scraped along the ground, kicking, bleeding, raw. My skin was slick with sweat, my shirt was pulled almost to rags from my struggles. I hollered, called for help, used every curse I knew. I damned them all.

  ‘Adulteress!’ James’ companion lifted his voice. People gathered on the side of the street in small knots. Fine entertainment, I thought as bitter rage curdled my stomach. I dug my heels against the ground and tried to catch my breath. I searched the watching faces for anyone who might help. I looked to the women. Some of them were laughing but others had turned their faces. If they understood, if they felt whispers of compassion, it was not enough to move them. My eyes swung towards the harbour. I could see the familiar mast of the Jeremiah and Anne tipping back and forth with the gentle waves. None of her men lined the streets.

  They might have done something. They might have helped me.

  I was pushed and dragged forward. The manacles were pulled too tight for me to get my balance. My ankles knocked together and I wobbled, then sprawled in the dirt. Knocked my chin on the hard ground. Dust and blood in my mouth.

  Something wet hit my face and slid down. Rotten conch flesh. A boy stood at the side of the road with his hand in a wooden bucket. He pulled out another handful of rancid fish and flung it at me. Jeers sprang up through the watching crowd. I dug my fingers into the dust. Spat blood and grime.

  James laughed and wrenched me to my feet.

  ‘Not far now,’ he said brightly. ‘Soon we’ll be home, darlin’, just you and me. Like old times.’

  Like old times.

  I tried to blot out the memories but they seeped through me like ink into thin pages. Desperate, frantic, pulled along the street towards James Bonny’s shack, I tried to think of Calico. His hands, his crooked smile, those sea-swept eyes. He had stolen me away from James Bonny once before but now he was out on the water, God only knew where; or lost to the ocean forever. James wouldn’t let me escape a second time. I was going to die there in that shack.

  I looked up and almost fell again. They were taking me east, closer to the waterfront and James’ shack at Potter’s Cay. It was directly opposite Hog Island, a scrubby, tree-filled stretch of land where pirates and smugglers had done their carousing, and had feasted drunkenly on the wild pigs there. I remembered sitting outside the shack, watching the smoke from their fires curl into the sky. Wondering if Calico was with them; wishing I could join them.

  We left the centre of the town. Nassau was on the rise but it was still small, less than three miles from the fort to James’ little shack. My muscles ached. I could smell my own fear in the sweat on the air, in the blood that coated the inside of my mouth. The skin around my manacled ankles was bleeding, and I was tired, too tired to fight.

  Read was dead.

  Calico was somewhere at sea, probably dead too. Bound to swing if they found him.

  Annie. Do you love me?

  They’d tar him and string him up in a gibbet for the world to see.

  Ah, Calico. I came to sea with you, didn’t I?

  Despair went through me like a fever, like plague. I’d always moved too fast for hopelessness to catch up but now it was seeping into me. I was sick with shame and fear. I had sailed with pirates. I had fought battles and shot men and had a child. But James reduced me to the frightened girl I had been four years ago. Sixteen, alone and helpless at the hands of a man who’d pretended to love me.

  Shaking, heavy, I hung limp as the two men dragged me the rest of the way to the hut that had flickered through my nightmares for two years.

  James’ companion shouldered open the door and they hauled me in. It was as dark as I remembered. It reeked of beer, sweat, tobacco, piss. There was one door and one window. No chimney or hearth. Just bare earth and a stained mat on the ground for James to sleep on. A wooden table and broken chairs. Empty bottles. I stood, swaying, my eyes dancing from the corners where I had cowered and wept. How long would James leave the shackles on my ankles? Could I steal the key from him? I flinched from the thought.

  He’d hurt me. If I tried, he’d hurt me.

  The door closed behind us. For a bar
e second all I could hear was the thin wheeze of my own breath. I closed my eyes. Tried to will away the reek of the hut, the sound of James’ companion finding a bottle and drinking from it. He handed it to James and went to stand by the door.

  James took my chin in his hand. ‘Quite the chase you led us, eh, Mrs Bonny?’

  I made myself think of the sea.

  Of Read.

  ‘You humiliated me, Anne.’

  Calico.

  ‘I’m gonna make you hurt for it.’

  Annie. Do you love me?

  ‘And when your pirate captain is finally brought to heel, we’ll go to the hanging together to watch.’

  I hit him.

  A jab, hard and fast. His nose crunched beneath my fist and blood spurted out. He snapped back. Roared. Grabbed me and shoved me against the wall of the hut. His hand was at my throat. His friend was shouting, egging him on, and I couldn’t breathe. I clawed at him. I tried to kick but the irons held my feet too close and I couldn’t get the swing I needed. I choked. My chest burned.

  ‘Looks like you have some bad habits to break,’ James hissed, his mouth framed with blood. He thumped me back against the wall. My teeth clacked together. The world slipped away from me in pieces.

  The door slammed open. James turned and his hold slackened on my neck. I gulped air. My lungs couldn’t keep up. A gunshot cracked through the air and James’ companion staggered to the ground. James released me and went for his gun as I slid down to my hands and knees.

  ‘Reconsider that.’

  James froze.

  I lifted my head slowly.

  Read had a second pistol trained on my husband. His face was calm and intent but there was anger in his eyes. His gaze flicked in my direction.

  ‘Bonny.’

  Alive. He was alive. He was alive and armed and he was there.

  My hands shook as I pushed my hair back out of my face. A sob hollowed out my throat. ‘Read.’ It hurt to talk. I looked past Read to the men beyond him. For a sick, wild moment I thought it might be the crew of the Ranger, my own lads.

  ‘Hello, bonny Bonny.’

  I rubbed my throat. ‘Darling Darling,’ I rasped, meaning it. The stocky musician from the Jeremiah and Anne walked over and helped me to my feet.

  ‘Don’t you take what’s mine!’ James snarled.

  ‘Stop us, then,’ Read drawled. James twitched, as if he was going to make a lunge for his pistol. Read cocked his own gun. James stilled again and I saw the panic run through him.

  Then Read held out the gun to me. Darling’s comrades kept their own weapons on James, just in case he tried something.

  I waved Darling away and stood on my own. The flintlock was warm from Read’s hand, the weight familiar and comforting in my hand. I watched my husband, the man who had wooed and wed me. His begrimed shirt was spattered with blood, his muscles tense. Rage warred with panic in his eyes.

  I felt the fear make one last attempt to rise in my chest. Then it withered and died.

  ‘He’s not worth the shot,’ I said. Everything ached. I was so tired. I turned back to Read. Darling’s people lowered their weapons a fraction.

  Relief made James stupid. ‘Filthy bitch,’ he rasped as he went for his gun, and I shot him in the face.

  The sound of the gun slammed through me as the smoke wisped into the air, as he jerked back and then slumped forward and the blood began to pool around him.

  I tried to stay steady but my legs folded under me and I sank to the floor beside the body of my husband. The gun spilled from my hand. The anger and fear that had commanded me for so long were gone. It left me empty, hollow, boneless. James’ blood, spreading, touched my hands. Still warm. I shuddered and a deep sob worked its way up from my stomach.

  ‘Give us a moment,’ Read said to Darling and his people. ‘Stand watch outside, make sure no one comes at the sound of the gun. Spin them a story if you need to.’

  They left us alone in the room. Read helped me away from the body. I couldn’t stop shaking.

  He searched James’ body for the key and then sat down to remove my shackles. I kicked them away as soon as they snapped open. Read touched my shoulder. I jerked, then stilled. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close.

  ‘You’re safe,’ he said. His voice was low. ‘You’re safe, little fellow,’ he said again.

  I leaned against him and wept like a child.

  29

  BONNY

  I cleaned myself with a bucket of water from outside James’ hut. It seemed to take a long time to wash, to make my limbs do anything much. There didn’t seem to be an inch of me that didn’t hurt.

  My shirt was ruined, so when I was done I pulled on James’ shirt and coat. They were too big and they reeked, but they would do well enough, and they didn’t chafe where my skin was raw. I gathered my hair back in a simple tie and jammed a hat on. I was still wearing skirts but I was beyond caring if anyone knew I was a woman. I scavenged through the hut, taking a belt and a case of shot as well as James’ gun. I felt better once I was armed.

  Read smiled when he saw me limp out of the shack. ‘That’s better.’

  ‘Where are…’ I cleared my throat. It was still hard to talk. The worst of the bruising was around my neck. Even swallowing was painful. ‘Where are the others?’

  ‘They’ll be back soon. We’ll have to plan from here. You look different from the woman they dragged through the streets but we don’t want to take any chances. No taverns or inns.’

  ‘Darling’s coves went to get beer, didn’t they?’

  ‘Rum, probably.’

  I managed a huff of laughter.

  Read came inside with me. He shifted the bodies to the side of the room and covered them both with sacks.

  ‘What are we going to do with those?’

  ‘Have to drop them in the harbour when we get a chance,’ he said. ‘I’ll talk to Darling and we’ll see what we can arrange.’

  He kicked out a chair for me and I eased into it gratefully.

  ‘What happened to you back on the ship, Read?’ I asked. ‘I thought you were dead.’

  ‘They had the barrels guarded. Couldn’t set a proper fire and I couldn’t get back to you either. I decided we needed a bit of assistance so I went to the Jeremiah and Anne as soon as we docked.’

  ‘How did you know to come here? How did you know I wasn’t in the fort?’

  ‘I heard you from the ship. Heard you screaming, saw them dragging you.’ That anger flashed back onto his face. ‘We came as quick as we could.’

  I reached over the table and clasped his hand.

  He shrugged. ‘I wasn’t going to lose you. How bad are you hurt?’

  ‘I don’t think anything’s broken. Throat feels like hell.’

  ‘Might keep you quiet for once.’ He spoke the words lightly but his eyes searched my face. ‘What now, Bonny?’

  ‘Now we drink!’ Darling shouldered open the door, followed by three other men from the Jeremiah and Anne. He stepped over the two corpses and placed a small barrel on the table.

  ‘Nothing like a stiff drink after a good murder,’ Read murmured.

  ‘Just so.’ Darling pulled up a chair. ‘What are we going to do with the bodies?’

  ‘Harbour after dark.’

  ‘A time-honoured tradition,’ he agreed.

  His lads found some old clay mugs and poured their fill. Darling set out a drink for me. It burned all the way down, a heady mixture of rum, spices, sugar, water and beer. Mostly rum. Darling and his boys were in high spirits. Their captain had extended their shore leave, giving them plenty of time to enjoy freedom in Nassau, and the murder had excited them. They may have started as musicians and performers but these men were pirates. They drank and jested and paid no mind at all to the dead men in the room.

  Read and I sat quietly. What now, Bonny? It was a good question. We had no way to tell what had befallen Calico and the crew. Nassau was too small for us to move freely. I could tell Read was thinki
ng the same thing. Our eyes met across the table. We both drank.

  ‘I’m not leaving without Calico,’ I said at last. ‘We’ve come too far.’

  ‘There’s a whole ocean of bad between you and Calico Jack, Bonny.’

  ‘I know. But I have to go after him. I don’t want to be without him. I don’t expect you to come along with me, mind. You’ve done enough for me. This isn’t your fight.’

  ‘If you’re going after Calico Jack, so am I. But we won’t be able to do anything until we have more information. It’s going to be hard to get that from here.’

  ‘We had an idea about that.’ Darling joined the conversation, pouring himself another drink. He wasn’t deep into his cups yet, but he already had a ruddy glow about his cheeks. ‘We can row you across to Hog Island. You can make camp there, Bonny can recover, and if there’s any sight of Barnet coming in with Calico Jack then we’ll alert you.’

  ‘Will it be safe there?’ Read asked.

  ‘Safe as anywhere. Rogers has Nassau pinned and primped, but smugglers still use the eastern point of Hog Island for their business. No one really lives there but there’s still pigs in good numbers and plenty of trees for fuel and shelter.’

  Read and I traded a glance. He shrugged; I nodded. ‘It’ll do until your captain decides it’s time to leave,’ I said to Darling. ‘We’ll have to make our decision then in any case.’

  There was only so long we could hide in Nassau. Ships went missing out in the wilds all the time, particularly in this season. There was a chance we would simply never know what happened to Calico.

  Nassau was quiet at night. Stevedores and whores roamed the docks closer to the middle of the town but we were on the fringes and saw only a few people. A cool breeze cut the thick air. It had been raining all afternoon, since just after we finished drinking. The smell was rich and earthy, a relief from the rotten stench that usually lingered there. The sea, hungry and snarling while the wind was up, had settled into the brooding growl I loved. Lanterns strung along the docks, hanging off ships, gave an eerie glow to the still waters.