Order of the Black Sun Box Set 9

by Preston William Child

  “We'll tie him up and decide later.”

  “We should kill him!” Jermaine shouted out, earning many nods of approval from the crew. “He will hunt us all down for this. And he loves tracking people down. He is good at it. He will find us all and we will all be dead. The Wharf Man will be bad enough. Oniel is crazy and will make sure we all have our throats slit by the end.”

  “We have other things we need to focus on right now,” Purdue said. “Like getting the gold out of here. We can't fit all of this onto the boats.”

  “No, we cannot,” Aya agreed. “Perhaps we should leave some behind. Surely we do not need it all.”

  Purdue shook his head. His future was going to be full of challenges against an enemy with an incredible amount of resources. The full amount of treasure was only a start to begin with. He couldn't do with even less than that. “I need all of it that I can spare. Especially since I am giving much of it to all of you.”

  “But without the percentage you were going to give to the Wharf Man—”

  “I need it,” Purdue said firmly. And he certainly did need it.

  Every coin would matter in his battle to reclaim his life from the Order of the Black Sun.

  The group discussed many possible strategies to transport the treasure, but none of the ideas they came up with seemed feasible. Jermaine even suggested that they haul much of it behind the ship in a trawling net. That wasn't the brightest idea Purdue had ever heard.

  “This is impossible,” Aya said after hearing enough genius ideas. “There is no way we can take it all in one boat.”

  Something occurred to Purdue.

  “Wait a minute.” He was angry that the thought hadn't crossed his mind earlier. It would have saved them all quite a bit of time. “We won't have to.”

  Aya looked at him with bewilderment. “I do not understand.”

  “We don't need to take it all off of the island. We just need to convince the Wharf Man that we have. We can take as much as we can, and then bury the rest.”

  “Leave it here?” Aya asked. “We cannot do that. If the Wharf Man comes ... or if someone else comes...”

  “The Wharf Man will come,” Purdue said certainly. “I'll make sure he does.”

  The crew all looked at one another nervously, like Purdue had lost his mind.

  “He's coming either way. I'm sure Alton gave him the coordinates to this place. So let him come. He won't be looking very hard for the treasure if he thinks it's all gone.”

  The cogs turning in Aya's head were almost visible as she put the pieces of Purdue's new plan together. She realized exactly what he meant, and her lips almost formed into an uncertain smile.

  Burying most of the treasure and hoping the Wharf Man didn't notice. It wasn't the best plan, and might not even be a good one, but it was the best chance anyone could think of to protect it. It would be right underneath the Wharf Man's nose, underneath his feet even, but he wouldn't see it. He'd be too angry that his prize had been taken. And Purdue would leave Oniel behind to further distract the Wharf Man. He would make for a good mocking consolation prize.

  “It could work,” Purdue said. “Let's play pirate and bury some treasure.”

  11

  THE TRUE TREASURE

  Purdue strolled through the cavern that housed the treasure, taking a quiet moment to appreciate just how many plundered prizes were around him. Even with a whole fleet at his disposal, it was still incredible that Admiral Ogden was able to amass such a vast amount of gold.

  There were currency and valuable trinkets from all different parts of the world, evidence of just how far Admiral Ogden's fleet had traveled the seas. No other pirates probably operated in so many of the world's seas. Their spoils of war were trophies from all over. Few places hadn't at least felt the threat of Admiral Ogden's fleet at one point or another.

  Chests were filled with coin with all kinds of designs and numerous languages on them. Most of these treasure chests were massive and almost overflowing with gold.

  One chest, however, particularly stood out among all of the others. It was a small box made of wood and didn't seem like it could fit much gold at all inside. A far cry from the trunks brimming with sparkling wealth. It looked like it didn't belong with its far shinier surroundings. It was a blemish on the beautiful, gleaming pile of treasure.

  Out of curiosity, Purdue crouched down to the small chest and picked it up, nonchalantly popping it open. There wasn't more coin inside. There wasn't an antique dagger or some stolen jewelry. The only thing inside was an old, torn up book.

  Purdue almost shut the chest immediately. Given everything that happened with Mona Greer's book of shadows, he knew better now than to mess with dusty tomes. Who knew was horrible things were written inside of it?

  He hesitated a moment before shutting it, because he got a different feeling from this book than he had gotten from that book of shadows in Salem. Firstly, this book wasn't emanating with the same unsettling aura as that spell book had been. Whatever was inscribed on these pages, they couldn't be worse than what was in the book of shadows. That was highly unlikely.

  Purdue took the book out of the little chest. It was messily bound together and its condition hadn't been helped by its time sitting in a cave for hundreds of years.

  Purdue fought through his nervousness and immediately realized he was holding a journal. As he read on, it became clear that the book wasn't just any journal either. It was Admiral Ogden's personal log book. The entries were overall short but filled with interesting and exciting information. It recounted the Scarlet Wing's location on various dates, depicted exploits that the crew committed—both good and bad—and best of all, gave insight into Admiral Ogden's thoughts on everything that was happening back then.

  It was easy for Purdue to skim through it, knowing that he would be giving it a much more thorough read soon enough. He would be pouring many hours reading something like that. Now that he was on his way to having money again, hopefully he would be reading it from a comfortable home, or from in his bath tub.

  He skipped ahead to the last page of the log that had anymore writing on it. It was about halfway through the remaining pages, like the author had given up half way through, or maybe he was forced to.

  The journal entry written on that final page answered some of those questions.

  Admiral Walton Ogden wrote:

  If there is a soul reading this, then that soul has found what I have left behind. My log book will be included with all of the riches that I have and my extensive crew have acquired over the course of my life. I am uncertain as to how much of this gold will be present when my journal is found. I am in the midst of making preparations for the largest venture that we have taken part in. We will soon be attacking a Spanish galleon that could potentially double the amount of gold that I currently possess. You, reading this, will certainly know the answer better than I.

  The truth of all of this is something I have even withheld from my own crew, men who I have long considered family. So many of them think that I have such glorious plans for everything we have taken. They believe that all of our stealing and raiding will have some true meaning in the world. They are mistaken, I'm afraid, and I do not have the heart to tell them that.

  I have nothing planned for this gold. Some days I do not even know why I took it to begin with or why I still desire more. I have been unable to stop myself from just trying to get as much as I can, damn the consequences. I have no idea what I want all of this for, or what real need I have of it. I am one of the wealthiest men in the world now, but there is nothing I want to do with that wealth, except to get more of it.

  Hopefully, if you have found it, you have loftier aspirations than I do. I pray that you are not stricken with this unshakable avarice that I have been long suffering from. Someday, perhaps even soon, that greed will get me killed. I am sure of it.

  My gold, my legacy, now belongs to you.

  Purdue thought that those words seemed like the end of the
message that Admiral Ogden left behind, but the pirate continued for half a page longer.

  It read: Know this. I have put everything I ever collected as a pirate in this cave. Everything except one particular piece of treasure. It is not among the piles of gold that you have found. It was too dangerous to have. Most things I found at sea were material. They were belongings that I could take and understand the value of. This treasure was not so simplistic, but it was valuable in an altogether different way. This item could control the very sea itself, far too dangerous for a rum-soaked man like myself to have.

  Much like my gold, and like any good pirate worth his name, I buried it.

  Though I did not bury it in sand and stone. I buried it where it belonged. At sea. That is where it no doubt still rests, far away from the reach of man.

  To fully accept my legacy, then you must find my final treasure, but remember that it is not as simple as gold. Search for it at your own peril.

  Spend wisely.

  Signed, Admiral Walton Ogden.

  Purdue practically dropped the logbook. There was some secret power that Admiral Ogden dropped into the ocean, something so powerful that even a warrior of the sea like him was too afraid to even hold onto it, and this was a man who horded everything he ever took. As valuable and useful as all of this was to him, maybe that was the kind of power he needed to really get his life back. Maybe that was the secret weapon that could literally turn the tides against the Order of the Black Sun.

  Purdue took the logbook and tucked it under his coat, as his crew came down to the cavern to begin their plan to hide the treasure from its initial resting place. As much as they had earned his trust and he now even considered some his friends, the captain's log book should remain in the hands of the captain, and not his crew.

  Purdue and the crew got to work digging an enormous hole to move the treasure into. They split up into shifts where some got the treasure prepared for transport, while others devoted all of their time and energy to digging. It was long and challenging project, but all working together, they started to chip away at the enormous task in front of them.

  They made sure to keep all of their digging out of sight of the enemies that they had tied up—Oniel, and Luka's pirates. They couldn't risk having them see the new hiding place for the gold. If their plan worked and the Wharf Man really did come to try and find it, they couldn't have any of their prisoners knowing that the treasure was still on the island, just out of the cavern. They even made a point of lugging some gold past where they were being held, just to make it look like they were taking it all away. The Wharf Man needed to believe, without a reasonable doubt, that they had somehow absconded with every single coin.

  It took some time, but after loading a good portion of it onto the ship, they dumped the rest into the pit they had created and then got to work filling it in and making it look as undisturbed as they could. Ideally, the Wharf Man would walk across that piece of land, directly above what he was after, and have no idea that he had missed it.

  It was risky, but Purdue believed it was the only way. The treasure needed to be protected, and giving it up for a time might be the best way to do that.

  12

  WHAT THE MUTE HAS TO SAY

  If Oniel wasn't restrained, they would probably have all been dead. He sat quietly, a rope wrapped tightly around his arms and torso, against a large palm tree. Luka and the remaining members of his pirate crew were tied to their own trees nearby. Oniel stared blankly at the crew from where he was stuck. He was probably imagining hundreds of ways to tear all of them apart. To bath himself in their blood and dance on their remains on the ground.

  Alton's body was nearby, but the crew had the decency to cover it with a blanket from the boat, so Oniel didn't have to look at his brother's corpse. Seeing your brother dead was bad enough. But seeing your identical twin brother's lifeless body must have been torturous. You would know exactly what you would look like dead. You would see yourself as a corpse. In some respects, you would be attending your very own funeral.

  Luka and his few remaining pirates were constantly shouting nearby, cursing Purdue and threatening that they would someday get him back for everything that had been done. Purdue wasn't afraid of them. They were just scavengers, and they knew just as well as he did, that if the Wharf Man came and found them there, he would probably send their heads back to his rival and their boss, Siad. Purdue hoped that the missing treasure would be enough to infuriate the Wharf Man, and that his rivals' presence would be enough to distract him from thinking too much about where the treasure could have gone. He could take his anger out on them, and let that fury cloud his thoughts.

  Purdue walked up to his silent prisoner tied to the tree and was relieved Oniel was mute. It saved them the trouble of having to bind his mouth if he started complaining or cursing at them like Luka and his men were doing. On the other hand, sitting there still and silent made him almost invisible. He was a predator just watching and waiting for an opening to strike.

  Oniel looked at him with the same disdain that he always had, but now there was real hatred mixed in. Of everyone, Oniel undoubtedly hated Purdue the most for killing Alton. And of all the numerous ways Oniel could imagine that he would kill the crew, he was assuredly saving the worst of them for Purdue.

  “I didn't want to do it, you know,” Purdue said honestly, leaning forward to almost be eye level with Alton. “Killing Alton. It's not what I wanted. It never was. You and your brother didn't give me much of a choice, though, did you? You were going to kill me and everyone else, just for disagreeing with you. That kind of attitude was bound to cause some friction, aye?”

  Oniel didn't answer, not even with his face. He looked away from Purdue to the sand beneath him. Nothing Purdue said would matter. The only thing that mattered to Oniel now was slaughtering the people who took his brother from him.

  “You were going to kill us, all of us, for disobeying a man who tore out your tongue. A man who you are still loyal to even after he did that.”

  Oniel's gaze remained averted to the ground.

  “We're going to be taking the treasure. All of it. In a little while, I'm going to tell the Wharf Man where to find us. By the time he gets here, we'll be gone with the treasure. But maybe he'll pick you up. Hopefully he'll get here before you starve or dehydrate or whatever. That would be a shame. And hopefully before your brother rots too much.”

  This brought Oniel's attention back. He looked up at Purdue with those blank, murderous eyes and made some sounds for the first time. Grunts and gargles as he opened his mouth. Purdue leaned in close to hear the noise.

  “Ki ... oo ... ki ... oo.”

  The sounds that left Oniel's mouth were hoarse, but Purdue could hear the words that he was trying to form. He could hear them clearly, and the message that they sent rang even more clearly.

  ‘Kill you.’

  Purdue rose back up. “Oh yeah? From there? Do it then. Half the crew thinks we should just get rid of you now. Hell, maybe we should. It would ensure that you never bothered anyone again.”

  Oniel's scornful gaze kept boring into him.

  “But I won't,” Purdue said. “Like I said, I didn't want it to be like this. I didn't want to kill Alton. I don't want to kill you. Do you deserve it? Yeah. You probably do, but that's not for me to decide. At least you'll have a fighting chance tied to this tree rather than in the ground.”

  If the Wharf Man didn't come, then Oniel would slowly die over the course of a few days. Was it right to leave him behind to slowly perish? Probably not, but it was the best Purdue would for a monster like him. It was more merciful than he deserved.

  Purdue walked away and when he glanced over his shoulder, Oniel was still sitting there quietly, staring at Purdue. Purdue didn't know what was to come, but he had a horrible feeling that he would see those same eyes again, with just as much anger behind them.

  13

  THE END OF THE BUSINESS ARRANGEMENT

  Purdue took a seat on a
long piece of driftwood that was washed up on the beach. He started out at the horizon at everything that was out there, unseen. He was so far way form it all. From the Wharf Man. From the Order of the Black Sun. From the life that used to be his, practically a cast away from his own past.

  But now it was becoming a little more clear. He was sitting on the fortune that would begin his redemption. It wasn't time yet, though. Now he needed to confront the man who had tried to stab him in the back.

  Purdue held up Alton's radio and clicked it on, listening to the static and crackling before speaking into it.

  “Beautiful day, isn't it?”

  Delroy Campbell was a patient man. He always prided himself on being that way. It was the only way to live. It was best to take things slow, and allow things to slowly gravitate around you until they were within reach. It was always inevitable that something would come your way. There was no need to rush it. It would come in time. So he constantly found himself waiting. Waiting for others to come to him, with their ideas and their proposals and even their threats. He waited until his gravity was too much; he could pull them in enough so that they wouldn't ever escape.

  Delroy Campbell was a smart man. He was always told so by his peers. Part of that was because of the patience that he was so proud of. His patience gave him enough time to think clearly, and when he was thinking clearly, no one could be smarter than him. They couldn't see things the way he could. They couldn't see the potential like he could. He always saw what others couldn't. That's what made him smart. He wasn't a scientist. He wasn't a mathematician. He was smart because he knew things that others didn't. He was smart because others trusted his word and his knowledge, even when it wasn't entirely accurate. He may not have been smart in the eyes of scholars or historians, but in the eyes and minds of those who bowed before him, he was the smartest man there ever was.