Blackbeard's Family

by Jeremy McLean

  They set sail for Nassau, and before setting anchor, sent out a scouting party by longboat. They came back after hearing word that Blackbeard had killed Calico Jack.

  The news nearly caused Anne to collapse. She had been holding a secret weight, secret even to herself, over the thought that Edward might have perished in his attempt. The weight lifted, and her heart felt free. She was eager to land and see him again.

  Only then did she take in what the news meant. Edward had killed his own father. The same father whom he, from day one, had insisted was alive and was partially the reason for his being at sea in the first place. The same father for whom he'd held such complicated emotion after learning the truth about who he was.

  Anne's heart broke for Edward as she thought of how hard it must have been to end his own father's life. It also made her scared. He already had a drinking problem from the nightmares that haunted his waking thoughts. What would this new trauma do to him?

  "What news of my brother?" Christina asked, clutching the carved rose at her neck.

  The crewmates shook their heads. "No mention of 'im. Sorry."

  Christina nodded, but her face looked dire. It seemed to Anne like she too had been holding onto a secret weight of her own.

  Anne went over to Christina and touched her back. "I am sure your brother is safe and well. Take us into the harbour, and we shall see for ourselves."

  Christina managed a weak smile and a nod before she took the helm and issued orders to the crew. She deftly guided the ship into the harbour before ordering the anchor lowered.

  Anne, Christina, William, Alexandre, and Victoria were the first party to head to shore in a longboat with some other crewmates. Jack, Pukuh, and Nassir stayed behind, choosing to go later.

  As they approached the pier near the centre of town, they noticed Sam waiting for them at the dock. Sam helped moor the longboat, and the crew disembarked onto the pier.

  "Sam, happy to see you well and uninjured. Our scouts tell us that Edward killed his… killed Calico Jack."

  Sam nodded, his face dour despite what should be good news. "Aye," he said. "You were right ta send me off ta help. Ed woulda gotten 'imself killed if not."

  "And what of my brother?" Christina asked once more, stepping forward, her eyes desperate.

  Sam's face still held fast to its grim demeanour. "I'll take you to 'im," he said, but would say no more.

  Christina didn't seem relieved by the news that he was still alive, and why would she when Sam seemed reluctant to give any more information?

  Sam took them through the town, full of revelling pirates as far as the eye could see, and explained what had happened. He gave a brief telling of Edward and Herbert's time aboard Grace O'Malley's ship.

  Sam also explained that Edward killed Grace's son who also turned out to be Edward's brother, but they hadn't known it at the time. The news sent Anne's heart racing. Not only did Edward kill his own father, but he killed a brother he hadn't even known he had. Edward's mental state had been hanging on a razor's edge before all this had happened. She hoped he was coping with it well, but she felt more fear than anything.

  Sam's recounting continued, explaining how they met in Nassau and hatched a plan that backfired due to Grace knowing the truth of Edward and Herbert's identities. Then Sam had regrouped and saved Edward from the gallows, allowing Edward to finally finish off his father.

  After a funeral for his father—a muted affair from Sam's estimation due to what happened afterwards—they gave Edward the official title of Magistrate for Nassau and the unofficial title of King of the Caribbean among the pirates. There was a ceremony, which really was just him being named Magistrate and Edward blowing his father's golden horn again, and afterwards the pirates partied for several days and nights.

  Benjamin Hornigold and Jack Rackham would live on through Edward, their names and their legacy taken over by him as if his father had never died. That was what Edward's father had wanted for him, what he had tested him for: to prove he was worthy of taking over those names by the republic his father had created. They'd learned that it was the only way Edward's father could force the other pirates to come to an agreement over their next leader.

  Anne surmised that on the surface, it functioned as a democracy, but behind the scenes, it was an oligarchy. Edward needed to be savage to rule through force if needed and keep the pirates in line.

  After the ceremonies, Sam continued, Edward did his best to catch up on the administrative side of his father's business. Or, at least, that was what he told everyone. Sam knew that Edward was in mourning and spent his days and nights reading things left behind in his father's study as his new staff kept him plied with liquor. He hadn't left the study since the ceremony.

  They eventually reached a large gated villa near the edge of town. There were many guards around the premises, but upon noticing Sam, they opened the gates and allowed him entry.

  Upon entering the villa, Sam pointed to a room on the first floor. "Herbert's in that room, Christina."

  Christina, her face still filled with worry, rushed off without another word. Sam looked at Alexandre and motioned his head towards the room, and Alexandre and Victoria both understood the message and joined Christina.

  Anne's heart sank further. That Sam wanted Alexandre to see Herbert meant something terrible had happened to him in the battle. He was still alive, perhaps, but in what state of living was he?

  "Come, I'll take ye two ta the captain," Sam said.

  "Does he know I… we've arrived?" Anne asked.

  "I sent one of me men off when I saw the Freedom… ah, I mean the Queen Anne's Revenge sailing in," Sam said, then muttered, "That's going ta take some gettin' used to."

  Anne and William followed Sam to the second floor of the villa to a room at the back. The other crewmates decided to stay behind and visit Herbert first. A guard opened the door for them and let them enter a large study.

  Anne saw Edward sitting in a chair at a table layered with papers, charts, and various oddities. The sight of him, alive and well, took another weight off her, and she felt she could breathe normally again.

  After the relief, she noticed his beard was almost completely gone. There was hair there, just not at much as she remembered. It made him look younger and less menacing than he had previously.

  Edward looked up from some papers, and when he noticed Anne, his eyes opened wide. He rose from his chair and nearly ran over to her. He scooped her up in his arms and spun her around. He had the widest smile on his face, and his eyes had misted. He pulled her close, and they kissed and wrapped their arms around each other as they let out all the built-up passion from their time apart.

  After a moment, he settled himself and rested his head on top of hers. "I missed you," he said.

  Anne laughed. "I can see that," she replied. She nestled her head into his chest. "I missed you too."

  He smelled of booze, but it was not so pungent as to be intolerable, and Anne decided that now was not the time to broach the subject. It was a time for reunion and time for her to be there for him.

  Anne lifted her head up and looked into his eyes. She placed her hand against his cheek, feeling the warmth on her palm. "Sam told us what happened. Edward, I—"

  "Let's not speak of it," he said. "There will be time enough for that later." Edward looked behind her to William and Sam. "Where are the rest of the crew?"

  Anne stepped back awkwardly due to her leg and answered, "Most are on the ship. Some came with us. Christina, Alexandre and Victoria are visiting with Herbert."

  Edward had heard her, but he was looking at her feet. He must have noticed the awkward way she had stumbled backwards.

  Anne let out a sigh, wishing that she could have held it for a time when they were alone. Perhaps if she dispensed with it sooner than later, it would be simpler.

  Anne knelt and lifted her pant leg up above her knee, showing the prosthetic. "Sam told you of our battling Silver Eyes? Well, the battle did not go as plann
ed, nor as simple as I would have desired."

  Edward knelt, joining his wife, and examined the prosthetic. "How did this happen?" His words were short, and his tone a mix of concern and sadness.

  Anne shrugged her shoulders. "It's a rather long story. There will be time enough for that later," she said with a grin.

  Edward nodded and smiled as well, a bit of relief in his eyes. "This is a remarkable design. Did Alexandre make this?"

  "Yes, he, Victoria, and Nassir all had a hand in it."

  Edward continued his appraisal, and then he lifted a finger up. "I have just the thing to finish the design and make it even better." He rose to his feet and went to the back of the study and began rummaging through some things.

  Anne kept her pant leg rolled up, but she stood up as well, waiting. After a moment, he came back, holding a pair of copper greaves in his hands. He showed them to Anne and handed one to her.

  "These are from one of Calico Jack's commanders, Grace O'Malley. She won't be needing them anymore, given that she's with Davey Jones now. They have a secret weapon inside them which fires off bullets out the front."

  Anne inspected the greaves, taking note of the weapon inside. "That is ingenious." She handed the greaves back to Edward, and he laid them on a nearby table. "Can you tell me what happened to Herbert? Sam wasn't forthcoming, I assume because Christina was with us," she said as she glanced over her shoulder at him. Sam had his arms folded and shrugged.

  Edward's face soured, and he stroked his chin. "He was injured before we fought with Jack, and, well, perhaps it would be best to see him for yourself. I would wish to speak with Alexandre and Victoria soon besides."

  Edward left the study and led Anne, William, and Sam to the room on the first floor where Herbert was. The crewmates who had gone to see him were waiting at the door, and they greeted Edward with joyful but muted expressions, which quickly reverted to sullen. Edward opened the door, and a distinct smell of rot mixed with chemicals and herbs met Anne's nose.

  Inside, Alexandre and Victoria were standing in a corner near the door, there was an attendant at the other corner, and Christina was sitting beside a bed where Herbert lay. Christina was weeping as she held Herbert's hand.

  Anne rushed over to see Herbert's eyes open and alert. He was still alive, but judging from the looks on the faces there, it was not a good prognosis.

  She placed her hand on Christina's back, and Christina looked at her. Christina opened her mouth to say something, but she burst into fresh new tears. Anne leaned down and hugged the young woman as she sobbed.

  After a few moments, Christina was able to compose herself, though not entirely.

  "Glad to see you well, Anne," Herbert said. His voice was hoarse and weak, and with each breath, there was a guttural noise from his throat.

  "I am happy to see you as well, Herbert. We sorely missed you these past weeks, but your sister makes a fine helmsman. She managed the ship well in your stead."

  Herbert smiled, but then had a coughing fit. He coughed hard for a full minute before he was able to stop and then he took a few deep breaths. "That is good to hear. The Queen Anne's Revenge will be well cared for."

  Christina's head sank, and she gripped the folds of her pants until her knuckles were white. She didn't need to hear it spoken aloud, for it was clear that Herbert was not long for this world. There was nothing Alexandre could do for him in this state. Whatever injury he suffered must have been infected, and they had failed to treat it in time.

  Anne touched Christina's hands, and the young girl looked up at her. Her eyes, filled with grief, pleaded to Anne, begging her to do something.

  She looked at Herbert, unable to bear Christina's gaze. "We will let you alone with your sister," she said.

  Anne and the rest left the room. Outside, Anne questioned Alexandre.

  "So, there is truly no hope? What of the herb from Pukuh's home that you used on me those years ago?"

  Alexandre waved his hand. "No two infections are alike, you should know this," he said. "Herbert's has reached his lungs. Even should we use the medicine, it would only prolong his suffering. There is no cure for him."

  Anne shook her head. "How long does he have?"

  Alexandre crossed his arms in thought. "Perhaps a few days, perhaps a week. It is hard to say."

  Edward appeared unfazed. He had been with Herbert from the time the infection began and appeared to know that it was dire. Alexandre was his last hope, but not one he had been holding out for, it seemed.

  "Victoria, I'd like to speak with you alone about a matter involving my father. Join me in the study," he said. "And I suppose, Alexandre, you may join, as I know trying to keep you out will be a futile matter." Edward looked at Anne. "Not to worry, my dear, this won't take long."

  Edward left, and Alexandre and Victoria followed behind him, leaving Anne and William waiting. Anne wondered just what it was that he wanted to talk with them about.

  …

  Christina, alone with Herbert, couldn't hold back the tears any longer and began crying again. She felt as though she had done nothing but cry for the past week and a half. Crying over what she had done to Anne, crying over her weakness that had allowed it to happen, and now crying over her brother's inevitable demise. She hated it.

  Her hands instinctively went to her rose necklace. The necklace became a totem of loss and serenity. When she touched it, she felt calmed. It brought her comfort as she ran her finger along the intricate grooves.

  Ochi, her first love, Nassir's son, had given it to her as a gift—a gift expressing his affection for her. She had been wearing it ever since.

  Ochi had died. She had loved him, and he had died, and a piece of her died along with him.

  Everyone close to her was dead or dying. She hated it.

  She ripped the necklace off her and pulled it back, ready to throw it against the wall. She gritted her teeth and looked at the wall, but she couldn't do it. She lowered her hand onto her lap and looked at the rose again. She traced the lines, the curves of the small petals made by a skilled hand, a hand cut short before his prime, and she calmed herself.

  She wiped her eyes and glanced at her brother. "What am I going to do when you're gone? You are all that I have left in this world."

  There was a moment of silence, then Herbert said, "Do you mock me?"

  Christina's jaw dropped. "How could you say that?"

  "I recall I said those exact words to you once before," Herbert said before a few weak coughs. "And you said to me 'We are—'"

  "Your family," Christina finished.

  Herbert nodded. "You were talking of the crew. You have so many aboard that ship who care for you, who love you, and would die for you."

  "The crew doesn't share my blood; you do. The crew weren't there for me when Mother and Father died; you were. The crew didn't support me by joining a merchant ship as a powder-monkey before being captured and crippled on a pirate ship; you did. The crew didn't raise me; you did."

  Herbert waved his hand. "Blood brought us together by chance. The crew chooses to be with you. And if we're getting into specifics, I would say this crew raised you just as much as I have. I think Anne could hold some stake in that claim if pressed upon it. You two are like sisters."

  Christina chuckled. "I suppose you're right."

  There were a few more moments of silence, and then Herbert spoke up. "So, are you getting more comfortable with sailing?"

  Christina spoke with her brother about how Anne wanted her to become helmsman, and her time with the ship, as well as the details of their adventure. She recounted the entranced islanders, knocking down the bell with the cannons, getting put under the spell and what had happened to Anne because of it, and finally the sailing to Nassau.

  As she recounted the story, she saw him smile, and it warmed her heart. Up until then, he had seemed to be in so much pain. By the end of her telling, they were both holding hands again, and Christina was no longer crying.

  After a few mome
nts of silence, Herbert spoke again. "Christina, I need to ask you for a favour."

  "Yes? What do you need?"

  There was a long pause as Herbert sought for words. He didn't look at her, and instead out the window next to his bed. "I don't want to let this affliction ravage my body any more than it has. It will only get worse from here."

  Christina pulled her hand away from her brother's. "What are you saying?" she asked, but she already knew the answer.

  …

  "How many spies for my father are aboard the Queen Anne's Revenge?

  Edward, Alexandre, and Victoria stood in the study—Edward's father's former study. Edward kept a hand at his hip, ready to draw his weapon at a moment's notice. He didn't know what Victoria would do at this line of questioning.

  Victoria stood silently for a moment before answering. "Half, perhaps a bit more than half. I'm not their keeper."

  "And you've been sending him reports with our status, our whereabouts?"

  "Yes," she replied, her face like stone.

  Edward's rage reached a tipping point, and he pulled out the blade from its sheath. "Tell me why I shouldn't kill you right now."

  Alexandre and Victoria both had their own weapons drawn, Victoria a short sword and round shield, and Alexandre a rapier.

  "I doubt you could," she said first. Then she followed up with, "I wasn't the only one sending letters."

  Edward calmed himself and dropped his stance. "No… no, you weren't." He put his cutlass away, and the other two followed suit. "Tell me why you did it. According to you, you hated my father, so why follow his orders and spy on me? Why report back to him?"

  "Simple," she said. "Your father wanted to die, and I wanted him dead. It was an uncomplicated decision."

  Her flippant attitude was making him angry once again, but he couldn't fault her for wanting the man dead. After all, Edward was the one who'd killed him. His father seemed to have a knack for bringing people together and setting them apart.

  Like father, like son. "So, what am I to do with you then, hmm? If I cast you away, then by rights I should be casting away half my crew. By that reasoning, this whole bloody island was loyal to my father and his ends, I can't rid myself of all of them."