For a moment, the two were silent. Edward hunched over in his chair, staring at the tea as it gently rocked in his cup.
" Ezekiel eighteen-twenty: The son shall not bear the iniquity of the father, neither shall the father bear the iniquity of the son," Roberts recited.
Edward looked up from his cup at Roberts, pausing for a moment to consider the words. "So, we're responsible for our own actions?"
Roberts smiled. "Yes, that is the core of it."
"I'll be sure to tell him that when I sock him in the face," Edward said with a smirk.
Roberts grinned with his friend and raised his cup. Edward returned the gesture, and the two took swigs of their drink.
There was a knock at the cabin door. "Enter," Roberts said. Anne opened the door, stepped inside, and closed it behind her. Roberts rose to his feet, and Edward joined him. "Ah, join us, princess. Come, come, we were just having a bit of tea." He put his empty cup down and filled another with some fresh tea, holding it out for Anne.
"Thank you, Mr Roberts. I should quite like the refreshment."
Anne took her cup and sat down next to Edward. The men sat again, and Roberts poured himself some more of the drink.
"How is William?" Edward asked.
"Better now that he's stationary, but he is still in the grips of a fever. He was badly injured in his fight, so it will take some time for him to recover."
"What did my surgeon say? He might not be as skilled as your Frenchman, but he gets the job done."
"He said that there was nothing we could do save making him comfortable. Since then, he's been feeding William rum by wringing a soaked rag over his mouth, to dull the pain," Anne said.
Roberts grinned. "That gets the job done too," he said with a wink.
Anne held back laughter and looked away. "So, what were you gents musing about?"
"Fathers and sons, my dear," Roberts answered. "Fathers and sons."
Anne raised her brow and looked at Edward. He shifted in his seat to better see Anne. "We were discussing whether I am responsible for Hebert absconding with my ship."
"Ah," Anne murmured with a knowing look on her face as she glanced at Roberts. "Ezekiel eighteen-twenty."
"Spot on, my dear," Roberts said, pointing at her.
"Well, as much as I would enjoy having a dissenting opinion, I have to say Herbert is responsible for his own actions. He is an adult."
"That's what I said," Roberts added with a hearty laugh. "You see, Edward? Even your wife agrees with me. You should listen to her, she's a smart woman."
"That she is," Edward said.
"Not to diminish your compliment, Mr Roberts—thank you as well for that— but if I were to play Devil's advocate for a moment I would say that it's not entirely one way or the other. We cannot deny that you have enabled Herbert in many ways. He wouldn't be seeking out revenge if not for your intervention."
Edward gestured towards his wife, but peered at Roberts. "See? She can see what I am thinking."
"Of course, he is responsible for taking the ship, and should be punished for it."
"Of course," Edward repeated.
"But to deny that we are influenced by our surroundings, or the company we keep… well, that isn't right, now is it?"
"Yes, but to be influenced we must allow ourselves to be influenced. Even if that influence goes by unheeded, it is due to our looking the other way or choosing not to be bothered by it."
Anne's mouth was a line. "So, you believe that we are who we are from birth?"
"We are as God shaped us, and from there, we grow into that mould by our decisions."
Anne shook her head vehemently. "No, no. There is simply no truth to that. We certainly make choices, and I do believe that inaction is choosing not to act, but there are many things outside our control which affect our perception of the world."
"Tell me then," Roberts said.
"Tell you what? Tell you of something outside our control?" Roberts nodded. "As babes we are told certain truths by our parents, but who is to say whether they are truths? We are not in control of what our parents tell us is the truth."
"Yes, but when one grows and becomes an adult, there is no longer an excuse to be blind to the real truth of the world. Blindness is a choice as well."
Anne let out an angry sigh. "Sometimes you can be so bull-headed," she said, but her anger was only on the surface. Edward chuckled aloud, and Anne glanced his way. "You've been silent this whole time, Edward. What's on your mind?"
"Nothing," he replied. "I'm simply enjoying this bit of theatre between you two."
Anne grinned and finally took a sip of her tea. Her eyes widened. "Is there rum in this tea?"
Roberts put his finger over his smiling lips. "Shh, it's my secret brew."
Edward grinned and raised his glass to Anne before downing the last of his cup and filling it again.
Anne chuckled and she too drank of the Pirate Priest's special brew. The three of them drank well into the afternoon, discussing all manner of topics. And, for a brief time, they forgot their troubles.
…
Edward stared at the protruding hump of one of Roberts' crewmen's backside as it swung in the hammock above him. He couldn't sleep in this unfamiliar place, with a mostly unfamiliar crew. Even the smell was different. The smell of sweet, slight Caribbean pine on the Queen Anne's Revenge was gone, and in its place that of red cedar. He could tell because the scent was almost foul in the sort of way that tickled your nose, and, as he wasn't used to it, it lingered in the space around him. The only blessing was that it was so powerful in the closed-off area of the ship that he had trouble smelling the normal odours emanating from men who had been working all day.
As if to repeal Edward's thought, the man above him expelled gas right on top of him. The hammock was poor protection from the flatulence, and Edward had to cover his face. He jumped from his hammock and walked away to escape the stench.
Edward donned his coat, boots, and a cap, and decided to visit the weather deck. As he poked his head out above the boards, a gust of cold wind hit him and nearly took his cap with it. He kept one hand on his cap as he stepped onto the deck proper.
The Fortune was a rare three-masted sloop-of-war with a solid gun deck and a small stern quarterdeck cabin, but no bow cabin. It was lighter and faster than Edward's frigate, and even had enough cannons to be a threat to ships like his. The superior speed was the key, and meant that it could do swooping arcs to fire broadside and right itself before it was left open to attack.
Something Edward only noticed now, being on board for one of the only times where the ship was moving, was that having no forecastle made it easier for the quartermaster to see their direction. It also offered a smaller profile to the wind, which no doubt contributed to Fortune's speed.
I wonder if we'd be able to beat Roberts if we rid ourselves of the forecastle and aftcastle. It could certainly help in battle to have a bit of extra speed. Perhaps I should talk to Nassir about it.
Edward glanced around the ship, and noticed several crewmates walking about, checking the rigging and keeping watch, some enjoying the night air, and some playing cards.
Speak of the Devil.
He noticed Nassir conversing with one of Roberts' crewmates at the bow. He walked over to them, and waved as he approached. Nassir and the crewmate waved back, then Roberts' man finished talking and went back to his watch.
"Couldn't sleep either, Captain?" Nassir asked as Edward joined him at the bow railing.
He shook his head. "No. I've always been a light sleeper, but put me on an unfamiliar ship and it seems I'm even worse."
Nassir grinned. "It's the smell, no?"
Edward smirked and raised his brow. "You noticed it too? Is that keeping you up as well?"
"Cedar lingers. Much too strong for my tastes."
"Exactly my thoughts."
Edward faced the bow and leaned his elbows on the railing, letting the chill air of the night sea cool his face and body. Th
e smell of the cedar washed away, and a more pleasant aroma replaced it. He closed his eyes.
Nassir chuckled. "Better?"
Edward nodded and opened his eyes. "Much," he said. "I was just thinking about something I should discuss with you."
"Oh?"
"I notice on this ship there is no forecastle, and the aftcastle is not as large as our own. Roberts' cabin is barely tall enough for him to stand upright in," he said with a grin. "So, would we be able to remove our forecastle and perhaps lower the aftcastle to give us more speed?"
Nassir stroked his chin in thought. "I'd need to see the ship to be certain, but I don't see a reason why we couldn't."
"Good, good. That could help us out in the future. Perhaps when this business is over we can look into it."
Edward went back to staring at the sea water as it crashed against the ship. The sails were low to avoid dangerous conditions should the weather change without warning and send the ship too far off course. There was little bounce in the Fortune as it crashed against the water, but he could still feel the slight dampness of spray against his pant leg. He knelt down and placed his hand on the bow, and the ocean's cold water splashed against his hand.
"Was there something else keeping you up, Edward? Something on your mind?"
Edward dried his hand on his chest and stood up again. "Anne, Roberts, and I were discussing whether someone is responsible for their own actions, or if another can influence them and is also responsible. Anne took the middle way in saying it's not wholly one side or the other, as both are correct, but Roberts believes that someone's choice is ever-present, and they cannot be influenced without their choice."
Nassir raised his brow. "How did you come upon such a topic as this?"
"I feel as though, because of my enabling Herbert in his madness for revenge, I am partially to blame for him taking the ship."
Nassir pondered the situation for a moment. "When our quartermaster first joined to run the helm, was it a choice, or did you force him to come aboard?"
"It was a choice."
"And I recall hearing he wanted revenge even then, no?"
"That's correct. He wanted me to promise that we would help him with his revenge."
"Then you are not to blame. There is no question in this."
"How can you be sure?"
"He had already desired revenge before boarding your ship. You did not create that desire. It would be the difference between him asking 'do you think I should get revenge for this?' and 'I'm going to get revenge for this, will you help me?' If it was the first question, then yes, you influenced him, but it was not. It was the second question, and you agreed to help him. If you hadn't agreed, he wouldn't have boarded, and might have sought help elsewhere."
"I suppose I had not thought of it that way. Thank you, Nassir."
"You are welcome," he said. "I believe I would have to side with your beloved on the topic. Perhaps thinking of it as a ship is best. Herbert has chosen the course, and he has asked you to adjust his sails. By helping him, he will reach his destination faster, and there is no doubt of that influence as he has no control over what you do, but he decides what his destination is."
"So, our friends are the crew of each of our ships," Edward said, a slight smile on his face. "I like that."
The wind seemed to have picked up since Edward and Nassir first started their conversation. It was chillier than before, and he was not dressed for the weather as he should be if he was to be working on deck.
One of Roberts' men approached them. "Could ye help us with the sails? The wind's changed, so we need to beam reach if we want to stay on course and keep our speed."
"Come, Nassir, let's show these men how it's done," Edward said with a grin.
Nassir smiled as well. "Yes, Captain."
…
"So, you're sure that this is where Herbert will have gone?" Edward asked.
"If he's not gone completely mad, then yes," Hank Abbot replied. "Porto Bello, and in fact the entirety of the Spanish Main, is a popular spot for pirates to raid, from what I hear, so it makes sense that Calico Jack would frequent the area."
Edward, Hank, Anne, and Roberts were on the quarterdeck. They watched the ever-expanding mass of land stretching across the horizon. They headed towards a small inlet with natural, grassy hills, and several ships either anchored in the water or leaving the inlet.
"Why would Calico Jack head here after Bodden Town? He already raided it, so why attack another immediately afterwards? Why not head to a familiar port to sell and spend their spoils?" Anne asked.
"I'm sorry, miss, I wish I had the answer. This is just what the people in town said they overheard during the attack."
"Could it be his base of operations?" Bartholomew pondered.
"I don't believe Calico Jack or his crew would let slip where his home port was located to their enemies," Edward said as he pulled out a spyglass.
"Then that begs the question of why his men would say where they were heading either."
"You think it could be a trap?"
"Perhaps, but not for us," Bartholomew said, then he pointed at Edward. "For you."
Edward gritted his teeth as he looked through the spyglass. Damn it! Herbert, you'd better not have gotten into trouble.
He scanned the approaching inlet with his magnifier, searching for his ship or signs of battle. They had a full view of the inlet, and he wasn't able to see any ships the size of the Queen Anne's Revenge. He could see several three-masted ships, and a few had a gun deck, but they were not as long as his.
Edward let out a sigh. "Well, unless it capsized, Revenge isn't here," he said.
"Let's hope it's because Herbert left, and not the alternative," Anne said.
Edward smashed his fist on the quarterdeck railing. The sound of the blow placed all eyes on him. "This wouldn't have happened had we been more active during the night." He let out a sigh, then glanced over at Roberts and the rest. "Sorry, this is all a bit frustrating."
"As long as you don't break my ship I do not mind the occasional outburst," Roberts said.
"Rather than acting a fool, why not pray that Herbert left a message for us at the very least?" Anne said.
After entering the inlet, Roberts and crew manoeuvred Fortune into an empty side of the harbour and dropped anchor. There were other larger ships stationed around the harbour, and they didn't want to attract any unwanted attention by allowing their ship and name to be examined.
Even should they have wanted to, there was no way Roberts' ship would be able to dock, as Porto Bello's pier was only meant for small fishing ships.
The tropical Porto Bello was covered in lush green trees on its tall rolling hills above and on the sides of the small town. Edward could see mixed palms and cedars and even some trees with blooming flowers on them which he couldn't recognise. They swayed and bowed in the wind, welcoming the newcomers to their home with gleeful dances.
Less welcoming were the many cannons lining the sides of the harbour, and the watchtowers dotting the landscape. The whitewashed stone battlements were well maintained, and he could see many men keeping a watchful eye on the ships in the harbour. No doubt those cannons were ready to fire at a moment's notice.
Edward recalled that Hank said Panama was a hunting ground for pirates, and it showed in the defences Porto Bello had installed.
"Let's head ashore and see what we can find out," Edward said.
Edward, Anne, and Roberts entered a longboat with a few other crewmates, and rowed to the dock. As they rowed, several men on the ships anchored in the harbour stared at them. They had wary looks in their eyes, and seemed to be trying to size up the new arrivals.
Though there was plenty of noise, birds off in the distance, wind rustling the trees, people chattering, and the oars beating the water, it felt silent in the middle of all those ships. Distrust was in the air, and soured the otherwise beautiful surroundings.
Anne chose to stare straight ahead, towards their destinatio
n, while Roberts was gazing at the scenery and didn't seem to notice those staring at them. Edward chose to return the glares in kind, despite being outnumbered.
They docked the boat at the harbour, and Edward helped his wife up to the pier. Roberts jumped over, dipping part of the boat into the water as he did so.
Edward looked at the other crewmates. "We shouldn't be long, so stay alert and be ready to leave soon." The crewmates nodded and continued mooring the long boat to the pier.
Edward did a quick scan of the harbour to find the harbour officials. There was a building just before heading into town which seemed to be what he was looking for, so Edward headed there with Anne and Roberts following behind.
Edward entered the building, and noticed an older, dark-complexioned gentleman at a desk. On his desk, which spanned most of the length of the small building, there were a multitude of papers of various shapes, sizes, and discolourations. The gentleman was busy scrawling on a piece of paper with a short quill.
The man said something in a foreign language, which Edward presumed to be Spanish, seeing as how this was a territory controlled by Spain.
"I am sorry, I do not speak the language. Do you speak English?"
The man peered at Edward, nodded and asked, "How may I help you, sir?" in near-perfect English, and then he went back to writing on his paper.
"I am looking for a ship that may have been here in the past few days," Edward said.
The gentleman looked up from the paper he was writing on. "You're the second Englishman in just so many days that has been asking for the same thing. You wouldn't happen to be from a ship called Fortune, would you?"
Blackbeard's Justice (The Voyages of Queen Anne's Revenge Book 3) Page 10
