With care and a lot of time, Anne pulled herself over to the end of the bed and took the crutches in hand. She had little experience with crutches. She had broken a leg in her earlier years, but she had been forced to be bedridden or into a wheelchair rather than allowed to stalk the halls of the palace in crutches. She had seen them used before, though, and thought it couldn't have been that difficult.
What made it difficult wasn't her lack of knowledge, it was her lack of strength. She was able to get herself balanced, and at rest she could lean on the crutches for support, but her leg wobbled and shook as though it would give out with each step forward.
Then came the door to the cabin. There was simply no crafty way to stand to reach the handle. She planted her foot down and in a swift motion, grabbed the handle and pulled the door ajar. She backed up a bit and used one of the crutches to knock the door open enough for her to walk through.
With one obstacle out of the way, she was able to exit the captain's cabin. She already had sweat soaking her brow and the small breeze coming from the weather deck down to the gun deck was a welcome respite.
Strangely, none of the crew were in the gun deck. She could hear voices coming from the bow, and movement from Alexandre's room, but no sounds were coming from above or below.
Anne swung herself forward to the bow. With each plop of the crutches on the wooden floorboards, she found herself acclimating to her new situation. It felt strange not planting her right foot down with each step forward, strange to not feel the cold of the wood or the air on her toes, but she pushed the feeling aside. She needed to ignore the curiosity for now. Now she needed to know what had happened as she'd slept.
She entered the surgeon's room too quickly and nearly fell over when she tried to stop herself. Nassir was there to catch her.
"Careful, miss," he said.
After righting herself, she tried to thank Nassir, but her throat seized, and she began coughing. The coughing only emphasized how thin and frail and hungry she was. With each cough, her stomach heaved as though it would cave in.
Victoria came up beside her, a cup of water in hand. Anne took the cup and drank it down in great gulps. She coughed one last time, wiped her chin, and thanked both Victoria and Nassir as she handed the cup back with a shaking hand.
"How long was I asleep?" she asked as she made eye contact with Nassir, Victoria, and Alexandre.
Alexandre answered. "Eight days."
She had guessed it to have been some time, but the news floored her still. She rebalanced herself in her crutches as she absorbed Alexandre's words.
"Silver Eyes?"
"He still lives," Alexandre said. "We have been starving him and his men, as per your orders. William held back from attacking through the tunnel until you awoke. The men are eager to see this ended, but he held them back."
Anne's anger bubbled forward. "Good, I want to see him die for myself," she spat.
Her tone must have alarmed her companions, as they all became silent. She tried to soften her tone. "Worry not, Alexandre, I recall our promise. You will have the honours of the final blow; I simply wish to see it happen."
Alexandre nodded. "Merci."
Anne looked down at the table, and she understood why Nassir was here in the surgeon's room. On the table lay a nearly complete imitation of a leg. Though it was not within her realm of study, Anne knew of medicine and recent advancements, especially amongst the wealthy who could afford the best of care. The device on the table was of the newest design and would allow her to walk as it didn't lock into place and instead had hinges to mimic the movement of the leg.
The sight of it was enough to bring tears to her eyes. She reached out to touch the apparatus, and then she looked at the three in the room. "Thank you," she said before wiping her eyes.
"It is nearly complete, but your wound won't support it yet. You will need another week to heal before it is safe."
"Understood," Anne said as she dried her eyes.
The gesture warmed her heart, but it did little to quell her anger at the man responsible for her injury. It only served to focus her mind away from her lost limb and towards a way to finish the battle with minimal casualties.
"Where's William?"
"He's ashore, managing the crew," Victoria replied. "I'll take you."
After a few more words of thanks to Alexandre and Nassir for their craftsmanship, Anne left with Victoria to go ashore. It took quite a bit of time to get above deck, and with each minute wasted, she grew increasingly impatient, but she managed the ordeal with little incident.
On the weather deck, Anne did see a few crewmates on watch, weapons at the ready and cannons nearby loaded. William must have overseen some of the deck cannons returning to the ship after the incident with the crew.
The crew left their posts to greet her and ask after her wellbeing. Though there was evident concern in their eyes, none were insensitive about her appearance and frailty. Anne tried to rush things along, the delays irritating her despite her crew's concern. After the crew were done seeing how she was, they helped her and Victoria into a longboat to take to shore.
In the boat, it was just Victoria and Anne. Anne rested as Victoria rowed the boat to shore. It would be a short trip, and Victoria was capable enough, but Anne wished she had the strength to help just to make the trip that much quicker.
With nowhere to go, Anne's irritation stewed within her, and the sight of the town and the fortified walls off in the distance only served to incense her further. Knowing that Silver Eyes was in his villa unharmed and unburdened by what his actions had wrought made her skin itch.
Anne needed to calm herself, and so she decided to look at Victoria instead. It was the first time in a while that the two were alone, and the first time in a while that Anne actually took note of the woman.
Despite all knowing her nature as a woman, she kept her black hair short enough that most would mistake her for a boy. Her clothes, too, showed little of her femininity. Anne had an inkling of the reasons.
She had heard about what had happened to Victoria at Calico Jack's hand. She saw the way that she shirked away from most men, nay, all men save Alexandre. It was not from a lack of ability; with her lithe form, she could kill a man three distinct ways before he had his belt unbuckled. That kind of skittishness reminded Anne of Edward at times. Times when memories came unbidden into the mind. Times of turmoil, of pain, of helplessness. It seemed that even for her, the years had not healed the wounds put upon her.
"How do you deal with the anger?" Anne said. Victoria stopped rowing for a moment and looked at Anne. Anne realized that she had said what she was thinking aloud without the usual preamble. "Apologies. What I mean to say is… with all that you've been through, how do you deal with the anger from it?"
Victoria was silent for a moment, and then she began rowing again. "Anger's a shield at your front and wind at your back. It'll get the job done, but it won't last long. Once it's gone, you'll wish you had it protecting you still." Victoria tapped on her temple. "Use it while it lasts."
Anne nodded and didn't ask any further. The two women remained in silence for the rest of the short trip.
On shore, Christina, Pukuh, Jack, and William were all waiting along with a small contingent of the crew. William helped Anne disembark.
William said no words, but from the look in his eyes, Anne could tell that he was remaining strong for her sake. He probably blamed himself for not being there to help her but would not say the words in public.
Anne placed a hand on his chest as she came down from the longboat and gave him a warm smile that she hoped would tell him all that he needed to hear. He took hold of her hand and squeezed it gently as he placed it back on her crutch. To everyone else, it would look as though he were simply helping her back into her crutches. It was his way of remaining close yet respectful.
After settling herself, Christina came up to her. She was already in tears again and hugged Anne tight. Christina began whispering apologie
s and sobbing into Anne's shoulder, and Anne tried her best to console the young woman. "Worry not." "It's just a leg." "The one I blame is Silver Eyes."
Then, after Christina had calmed herself enough to pull away from Anne, Anne turned it around by giving her own apology. "I'm sorry… for Tala."
Christina shook her head so vigorously Anne thought it hurt the girl. "No, don't apologize. I should have trained her better."
Anne rubbed Christina's shoulder. Though she was holding it in, it was clear that the loss of Tala pained Christina. They had been inseparable since meeting near Pukuh's village. Anne remembered how the two of them had fought a bear and won, just to bring back medicine to save Anne when she was sick. If not for Tala and Christina, Anne would have died.
"You trained her well. She was a true warrior, and she will be missed by all." Anne pulled Christina in and embraced her again for a moment.
Jack also offered his apologies, lamenting his weakness. Anne gave him the same words she gave Christina, reassuring him that it was no fault of his. She leaned in and whispered to him, "Now more than ever, the crew and I need your music. Keep their spirits high until this is over."
Jack smiled. "I understand, Captain," he said before stepping back to let others have their chance to speak with her.
After pulling away, Pukuh was standing there with his arms folded. He looked her over, barely glancing at her missing leg, his face inscrutable. "You look like death."
Anne couldn't help but laugh, and it was both joyful and painful in her state. "I feel it."
"Soon, it will become a part of you. This, I know," Pukuh said, touching his right shoulder, the stump that used to be his right arm.
"I shall have to take you at your word," Anne said. "For the time being, I suppose I'll look and feel like death."
"It was praise," Pukuh said. "Death is my namesake. I mean you look ready to end this."
"I was ready eight days ago," Anne replied. "So, let's end it, shall we?"
…
Anne had run through the various scenarios in her head before the battle with her crew. She did the math, and if not for her injury, she would have ordered the use of the secret tunnel long ago. Doing so would have cost them several crewmates, and there was only one way around the problem. It was a cruel method, and before she had only thought of it as a last resort, but now, in the throes of her anger-fuelled mind, she didn't care about the morality.
Others did. William, Alexandre, and some of the crew objected, but their voices were few. William eventually followed her orders as he always did and carried out the first part of the plan. Alexandre realized quickly that there would be no swaying Anne, but he was visibly angry. If Anne had been in the right state of mind, she might have rethought her actions, but she was not.
After William and some of the other crewmates returned from their task, Anne gave the signal.
They removed a large cloth covering one of the golden bells they had taken with them from one of the villages on the island. It, unlike the one Christina had managed to destroy in Silver Eyes' town, was whole and intact. The sound it would produce would have its desired effect.
The crew laid the bell down, so the open bottom was facing the town, then looked at Anne for final confirmation. Anne waved her hand in a striking motion, and the crew lifted the bell's striker and slammed it down.
The sound of the bell was loud in her ears, with the same pull as it had had before. She was able to resist the numbing effect it had, but she did have to close her eyes. She wondered just what the metal was, the same ore that her ring and Edward's cutlass were made of, that could produce such a tone.
After the bell's tone died away, the crew struck it again. This time, Anne forced her eyes open to watch the town. Silver Eyes' men were stationed along the perimeter as before, and they remained unchanged, unfazed by what Anne thought would be a strange development.
Again, and again the crewmates struck the bell, but nothing changed. At least, not on this side of the town.
Soon, Anne could hear sounds of fighting within the town in between the striking of the bell. The crew didn't let up, because Anne didn't tell them to, and the sounds inside grew with each strike. Shouts, snarls, gunfire, and clashing swords, a bizarre counterpoint to the ringing of the bell.
After some time, the fighting came to the stockade. Those fighting Silver Eyes' crew were not the crew of the Queen Anne's Revenge. Those fighting were the crazed, entranced villagers they had previously been trying to save. Triggered by the bell, they would attack anyone, even their masters.
The cruel, immoral act that Anne had chosen to commit was to use those poor souls to do the fighting for them. They had taken the entranced villagers, unable to refuse, into the tunnel and locked the entrance behind them. Then with the bell turning them mad, there was nowhere to go but into the town. There, they fought Silver Eyes' men.
Exhausted and enraged, Anne just wanted it over with, and with the least casualties to her crew as possible. They had suffered enough; she had suffered enough, and she wanted it to be over.
She had considered leaving, briefly, but her anger wouldn't let her leave before she'd had her revenge.
They kept ringing the bell as the fighting continued. There was no doubt that Silver Eyes' men had access to a handbell like the one that Sam gave them, but they knew that it wasn't permanent. As they continued ringing the bell, they ensured the fighting would continue.
When the sound of the fighting died down to almost nothing, Anne ordered the crew to stop striking the bell. Then they brought the cannons forward.
In the eight days that Anne was unconscious, Nassir had built a few limbers from the wagon parts. That gave the cannons more maneuverability and stability and enabled the crew to take them in closer to the stockade. And, without their enemy manning the stockade's cannons they had no fear of retaliation.
They fired the cannons at the stockade's entrance, the large iron bouncing off the massive wooden beams. With each hit, the beams cracked increasingly until they finally gave way under the force. The entrance now open, the crew were free to enter the town and finish off Silver Eyes' men.
Anne, in no shape to fight, stayed behind as the crew entered the town to finish the job. She hated waiting, but she knew better than to be involved with their enemies who had already been stronger and faster than her before she was injured.
William, too, stayed behind as Christina, Pukuh, Victoria, and Alexandre all entered the battle. Jack wasn't far behind, a drum in hand, playing a rousing beat for the fight.
And so, the two waited as they listened to the sounds of the battle growing once more. William seemed content to remain in silence with Anne, but after a few minutes, Anne became restless.
"Do you think less of me for this?" she asked.
William, silent for a moment as he looked at Anne and then back at the town, replied with a simple "No." After another moment, he elaborated. "Alexandre may be upset, but he was making no progress in freeing those people. With time, perhaps he could have undone the trance put upon them, but we don't have such time. We couldn't have taken them with us either. This will ensure victory and the least casualties for us. You made the right decision."
Anne had expected him to say as much, but it disappointed her still. He had objected to the plan before; there was no way he wholeheartedly agreed with her decision. He was trying to ease her mind at that moment.
She knew deep down that she would regret the decision, she could feel it. At the moment, it was as Victoria said: her anger shielded her, protecting her from the guilt which would weigh on her later.
More time passed, and again the sounds of battle waned. Anne decided then to enter the town with William and the few crewmates who had stayed behind with her. With her still on crutches, it took some time to reach the town.
Bodies littered the roadway, the fronts of buildings, and the alleyways. It wasn't a large town by any means, and so between the hundred and twenty villagers they had gathered, and h
owever many of Silver Eyes' men had been left, you couldn't make it five steps before encountering one of the dead.
Thankfully, it hadn't been long, and so the stench of death was light. It smelled of fresh blood and gunpowder as smoke still whirled around the town.
The only activity was from their crewmates keeping watch nearby, and the sound of shouts from farther off. Some of their enemies appeared to still be alive and making a last stand.
Anne recognized a woman, one of the villagers, reaching a bloodied hand towards them. Her legs had been cut or torn off during the fight, and her hair was matted with blood. She was still, even in that state, entranced and trying to reach them to attack.
"I'll handle this," William said. He pulled out his sword and put the woman out of her misery.
Her eyes stayed open, staring at Anne. Those hollow eyes from the trance remained unchanged in death. Whether under Silver Eyes' spell or free from their mortal coil, their eyes were the same.
Christina ran over to them as they walked through the maze of bodies. "We have Silver Eyes surrounded. He's holed himself up in a fancy house. Come, I'll show you the way," she said.
Anne, William, and the other crewmates went through the small town, around all the dead bodies, and to a small but opulent house near the centre of town. It was located beside the bell tower, and it appeared as though the two buildings were joined.
Jack was outside the home catching his breath. He had a weapon drawn, and his fiddle slung across his back. He waved as they approached.
They entered the home, and Christina took them to the back where Alexandre, Victoria, and Pukuh were standing guard next to a door.
"Let's end this," Anne said. "Kick down the door, but be wary."
Pukuh grinned and nodded, then did as Anne ordered. In one swift kick, the door busted in, swinging wildly. Pukuh rolled off to the side, away from the entrance.
Blackbeard's Family Page 22
