William was able to see one man fighting against the horde, and he rushed to join his comrade-in-arms. He ran over to a group of pirates set upon his friend, slicing one in the back, and another in the gut. After another second, his mate dispatched the others with two mighty thrusts of his spear.
Pukuh, the Mayan warrior, turned around to face William, ready to strike, but when he saw the face of his friend and crewmate he smiled. "You join the hunt, brother?"
"Yes, and by the looks of it we're on our own for now," William said, glancing down the main street with pirates running towards them.
Pukuh grinned. "Too bad for them," he said as he spun his spear between his fingers.
William couldn't help but smirk before he readied himself for the next wave of enemies.
Five pirates stormed at them with various sharp blades in hand, their one-time-use gunpowder weapons evidently spent closer to the harbour. Three charged the one-armed Mayan, while the remaining two went after William.
The two after William attacked at the same time in coordinated strikes. One man swung his blade horizontally, while the other thrust forward in case William decided to jump backwards. William kicked the second man's hand, knocking his blade away and at the first man mid-swing. The blade spun and nicked the first man in the leg, forcing him to stop and take a step back. William stabbed the pirate with no weapon in the chest as the other swung at him again. He clashed blades before grabbing the pirate's arm and pulling him forward to slice his neck open. The pirates were no amateurs, but William was the superior fighter.
Just as William was about to head to help Pukuh finish off his remaining two enemies, the glint of another sword caught his eye. He pulled his head back just in time to see the blade flash in front of his face. He jumped away and slapped the blade with his own before he took sight of his opponent.
The man in front of him had two inches on his five foot eleven, and easily twice William's bulk. He wore cotton-print clothing, and his face was clean-shaven. There was a scar that went from his right eye down to his mouth.
Calico Jack! William thought as he took in the giant before him.
"Where is Blackbeard?" the pirate asked in a calm yet forceful voice.
William's answer was to slash at the pirate captain in front of him. Jack Rackham, better known as Calico Jack, swung his blade to counter William's. There was a brief clash where the sound of metal ringing echoed off the buildings before William felt no resistance on his end.
William looked down to see his cheap blade split in two. It was then that he noticed Rackham had a blade made of a golden metal. It reminded him of Edward, his captain, and the golden cutlass he owned, which was made of a mysterious and unbelievably sharp alloy.
Before William could recover from his shock, a large hand gripped his throat. Rackham picked William up off the ground, and slammed him onto the cobblestone on his back. There was a loud snap as several of his ribs broke, and the blow knocked the wind out of his lungs. It felt like a hand was gripping him on the inside, not allowing him to breathe. As he struggled on the ground, Rackham rose up to his full height.
William could hear Pukuh running towards them, but he stopped short. William looked over, and Pukuh's eyes were wide with what he thought was fear. It looked like Pukuh had seen a ghost.
Calico Jack scowled, looking down on the two in front of him with unmatched contempt. "Tell Blackbeard I'm coming for him."
2. (In)Justice
Edward waited on the quarterdeck with Herbert, the quartermaster, as the crew of the Queen Anne's Revenge secured their vessel to a merchant ship. He stroked his long beard as he watched the crew of the Fortune do the same on the other side of the merchant ship.
After a month of travel, bribes, and biding their time, the dual pirate crews had found the ship they had been searching for.
Armed to the teeth, the two ships were ready to take on the merchantman and secure its cargo by force, but it was unnecessary. There was no great battle, no bravado, no clash of swords with a mast at one's back as the wind whipped the sails. No, mere moments after dropping the black, their mark had raised the white and furled their sails.
Now, after half an hour of suspense as the ships slowed to match speed with each other, the cowards were aboard the main deck. The men threw the pirates curious and fearful glances as they assisted their transgressors in their task.
The noonday sun shining above them was blistering. Invisible steam rose up from the sea water sprayed on deck during sailing, and it created small mirages when looked at from certain angles. The smell of brine and seaweed and fish was strong in the air due in no small part to the steam. Edward didn't mind the heat, nor the smell. He was used to all the features and forms of the sea from years of experience working on a ship. He might even go as far as to say that he loved the smell if only his companions would not use it as ammunition for some form of jesting. Although, anything served that purpose for Bartholomew Roberts, the captain of the Fortune.
After the crew secured the ships, one of the mates approached and informed Edward. "Ensure the crew holds no weapons, and keep them in line. Move the captain to the stern. I will be over presently." The crewmate nodded and issued orders to other men aboard the Revenge.
"How's the weather looking, Quartermaster?" Edward asked, looking at Herbert. "Are the waves going to give us any trouble?"
Herbert leaned over in his wheelchair to look off the bow at the sky. "Should be clear, Captain."
"How are you adjusting to your new position?"
Herbert smirked. "Well, I was already working the helm, so now it's essentially just more responsibility on my hands."
Edward patted Herbert on the back. "I'm sure John would be proud of you. You've been doing a fine job."
"God rest his soul," Herbert said, and Edward copied the chant.
Anne Thatch, a fiery redhead and Edward's wife, approached him on the quarterdeck. She held one hand firm on the hilt of a cutlass, ready for anything. "They're acting rather cooperative, wouldn't you say?" she said with a smirk.
"Aye, I would say. Very cooperative," Edward replied. "Do you believe it to be a ruse?" he said with a sarcastic tone.
Anne frowned in thought, then looked over her shoulder at the merchant ship. The crew was searching the men's belongings and rounding them up, being more than a touch rough with them as they did so.
"Hard to say, truly. They did fly the white rather quickly."
Edward eyed the ship and the two pirate crews as he leaned on the quarterdeck's railing. He fiddled with the gold ring on his finger for a moment before he rose. He sauntered down the quarterdeck stairs and over to a gangplank connecting the ships, with Anne following behind him. He crossed to the merchant ship and Bartholomew Roberts approached him.
"You'll handle the search below?" Edward asked.
"Aye, and, God willing, I and my men will find what we've been looking for," Roberts replied.
"You sound confident."
"So far, your first mate hasn't steered us wrong," Roberts said, patting Anne on the side of her arm with a grin.
Anne smiled and bowed her head to the Pirate Priest. Roberts returned to the bow, and then he and a few of his mates descended into the belly of the merchant ship to search for their treasure.
Edward and Anne walked to the stern of the ship to where the merchant's captain was. "He's right, you know. You're the best person for the job, and you can't keep ignoring the crew's vote like you have been."
Anne's mouth became a line. "I know, it's just…" She trailed off with a pensive look on her face.
Edward stopped walking. "What is it? If you have some misgivings, I'd like to know. I am your partner in more ways than one," he coaxed.
Anne nodded. "It's big shoes to fill. Henry was an age-old friend and confidant long before I came into your life."
Edward nodded, thinking back on his friend and the terrible night when he'd left. Henry couldn't handle life as a pirate, and had decided to leave the crew. E
dward had run after him alone, and pointed a gun at him in desperation, trying to convince him to return. He hadn't meant to hurt Henry—would never have harmed a hair on his head!—but when the local authorities had intervened, things had gotten out of hand quickly, and Edward had shot his friend in the back, killing him. He still hadn't told anyone of the incident.
Edward shook his head to shake off the memory of that night, and didn't touch on what Anne had said. "The crew trusts you with their welfare, and I know they would have no one else in charge of their battle training. You've proven yourself time and time again."
Anne smiled. "I suppose that's true. I've already been training many of them since day one. Especially you, husband."
"Yes, and I recall that you led them into battle against three enemy ships that time I was kidnapped."
Anne frowned. "Well, the actual number was two. Roberts and his crew took care of the third."
"Still, that's not something I could have done, nor many others aboard this ship."
Anne smiled again, but changed the subject. "Come, we've work to do."
"Right," Edward replied.
Edward walked over to where the captain of the merchant ship waited. One of Roberts' men had a pistol trained on the captain, and another was lazily holding a cutlass in his hand, pointed in the merchant's general direction.
"How do you do, Captain? What may I call you by?"
The older gentleman scoffed. "What does it matter? Just take what ye came for and be gone. I do not wish to prolong this injustice."
Edward chuckled. "Injustice?"
"You believe what you are doing is just? I never knew pirates to think so highly of their own integrity."
Edward rubbed his chin as he glanced at the ship's deck, and then he moved to the merchant ship's stern railing. He leaned his back against the railing and folded his arms.
"You know, my father used to tell me these stories of a man named Robin Hood. I don't remember all the details, as I'm sure any can say of stories from childhood, but his actions always stuck with me," Edward said while gesturing with his finger. "Robin Hood stole from the corrupt rich to give to the poor, and he was the hero."
The merchant settled his thumbs between his belt, and looked annoyed. "What does this have to do with anything?" he spat.
"You are rich, we are poor."
The merchant gritted his teeth. "You believe yourself to be the hero, boy? I may be the owner of this ship, but these men are the ones who will pay for your theft," he said, pointing to his crew. "Though your attack stings, I have savings. Most of the men here are not so lucky. In a month's time they'll have to return to their wives and tell them how a hero stole their cargo, so I couldn't pay them. Then, their children who are sick with fever will die because they couldn't afford the medicine, or they'll starve because food is too expensive." The merchant's voice grew louder and louder as he spoke until his entire crew could hear him. "Why do you think I flew the white so fast? Did you think me a coward? I did it because men like you would kill men like us. At least this way these men keep their lives and have another chance to right your wrong. Steal what you want, take it all, but don't you dare hide behind some twisted morality that affords you sleep at night."
Edward was quiet during the captain's speech, but within a moment of it ending, he burst out laughing. His unrestrained and lengthy howl was boisterous to the point that many in the merchant crew thought him mad by the time he ceased.
"You're good. I'll give you that." Edward got to his feet and raised his voice to ensure the whole crew could hear him. "There's just one thing though: Who said that we're here to steal your cargo?"
The captain eyed Edward suspiciously, but before he could question him Roberts returned from below deck with a notebook in his hands. Edward walked over to Roberts.
"Does it have what we were looking for?"
Roberts nodded. "Just as expected."
Edward smiled. "Good." He took the notebook in hand.
"Who are you?" The captain had a confused look on his face as he eyed Edward up and down.
Edward grinned. "I'm Blackbeard." He began thumbing through the notebook.
"Stop! Stop, I say," the merchant commanded, reaching for Edward.
Roberts' crew stepped forward, but it was Edward's massive hand on the merchant captain's throat that stopped him. "No," he stated simply.
Edward, at his height of six feet four inches, lifted the merchant captain up in the air by the throat with ease. He walked over to the crew amidships and tossed the captain unceremoniously to the deck.
"Crew of the Tabernacle, you may see me as nothing more than a common rogue, but I am here to right a wrong that was going to be committed on you. I am here to avenge those that had this wrong committed on them in the past."
"Don't listen to him, men! He's nothing but a liar and a thief," the captain shouted.
Edward called to some of his men to bind the captain and gag him, which they carried out with no amount of gentleness. Once complete, and sure that the captain could no longer interrupt, Edward continued.
"Your captain was so fervent to denounce us as thieves, as you no doubt overheard earlier, and while that may be true we are not the only ones. As is often true, the most vocal detractors of a sin are those most guilty of it." Edward pulled up the notebook and showed the pages to the crew. "Your captain recently purchased rather large insurance precisely two weeks before your journey. Should pirates attack this ship and steal the cargo, he would stand to make a small fortune. But you wouldn't know anything about that, would you, Captain?"
The merchant captain tried to yell through the gag in his mouth, but only muffled expletives filtered through.
The crew, understandably confused, called Edward a liar at best and variations of what the captain was saying at worst. One thing stood out from the rest: apathy. An insurance policy wasn't proof of guilt.
"I hear what you are saying, but I can assure you that your captain was going to let this happen. In fact, he hired another pirate crew to attack the vessel and steal the cargo. We intercepted them on our way here to stop them."
The merchant crew were less enthusiastic with their objections, but still not entirely convinced from what he could tell.
Edward shook his head. "Of course, you don't have to trust in my word. After all, I am a dirty pirate," he said while shrugging his shoulders. "James!"
A man, not of Edward's crew, came from the Queen Anne's Revenge over to the Tabernacle. He was plain, and every bit the normal-looking sailor. As he came into view, the captain's eyes widened further, and his muffled screams ceased, to the notice of the other crewmates.
Edward backed up a few paces to allow James some room, and he sat down on top of a barrel near the mast.
James pointed to the merchant captain. "This man was once my captain."
At the declaration, the current crew of the Tabernacle glanced from James to their captain and back.
"I was hired as a gunner a month before departure on a shipping contract going from Jamaica up north. One thing the captain told me was odd, but it wasn't what he said, it was the way he said it. He told me that if everything went according to plan then there shouldn't be any need to use the cannons, but he was smiling like a man ready for a payday."
James looked at the captain with contempt as the other crewmates continued glancing at the two as he told his story.
"After we departed, it wasn't long until we were beset by pirates. It was a small sloop with fewer guns than we had, so I thought it was a given that we would attack and I readied the cannon I was in charge of, but we were told to surrender. Our entire cargo shipment was stolen, and we were never paid because the captain said he couldn't afford it. We went back to Jamaica, but he didn't hire us again. I later found that the captain had purchased a new, larger ship. It never sat well with me what happened, and so I followed the captain around to find him hiring the pirate crew to attack his new ship. Unfortunately, or fortunately, the pirates found me
out and attacked me, but Edward Thatch saved my life," James said, pointing at Edward. "I told him my story, and he promised me and my former crew revenge."
Edward stood up from the barrel and went over to stand next to James. "If you won't believe my word, then believe this man's." Edward pulled out a pistol from his belt, and pointed it at the merchant captain. Despite all the evidence presented, and the testimony from a former crewmate, the crew still protested to the violence. He ignored them, and a few nudges from Roberts' crew silenced them. "I would ask what kind of twisted morality allows you to sleep at night, but what does it matter? I do not wish to prolong this injustice." Edward flashed a devilish grin, cocked the pistol, and fired it at the captain's chest.
The bullet hit the captain in his heart, and he slumped over, hitting the deck with a thump.
Another smell emanated from the pistol and overtook the aroma of the sea. Edward also loved this scent, though for a different reason, and he would never admit it even to himself.
As blood drained from the slumped-over captain, his crew watched on in a mix of horror, indifference, and praise over justice being done. Quite a number were nodding as they looked at the body and whispered various versions of "serves him right."
"Now," Edward said, the pistol in his hand still trailing smoke, "there is the matter of your cargo. Who is first mate aboard this ship?"
After a moment, a man raised his hand and stepped forward to answer Edward's call. "I am, sir. Y-you're not going to kill me, are ye? I tell you true, I had no part in this plot," he said while wringing a cap in his hands.
Edward chuckled. "No, no, the captain was our only target today. What I wish now is to buy your stock, and seeing as the position of captain is left wanting, you will have to fill that role. You have many spices, which will fetch a good price where I hail from. Of course, I will not pay anywhere close to the market price, but if you divide it amongst the crew it will be more than your standard wages. Does this appeal to you?"
Blackbeard's Justice (The Voyages of Queen Anne's Revenge Book 3) Page 2
