Alexandre stepped forward. He had the same slight smile on his face, the one that showed no genuine emotion. "Perhaps I can be of assistance. We were planning on leaving after this matter was settled, so we shall depart of our own accord."
The revelation took Edward aback and confused him. "You were planning on leaving the crew? I thank you for saving me the trouble, but why?"
"As I said when we first met, I was here for the entertainment. I enjoyed watching you over the years, but I have had my fill. Your wife may be able to illuminate you as to the breaking point that came about during her aventure."
Alexandre and Victoria turned around to leave and headed towards the door to the study.
"Hmph," Edward scoffed. "And what about that question about me that was puzzling you so? Do I enjoy the smell of blood?"
"Ah, yes, I found the answer to that some time ago."
Edward's jaw dropped. "And? What's the answer?"
Alexandre grinned. "What indeed," he said, and then he headed out the door.
…
The crew held Herbert's funeral on the deck of the Queen Anne's Revenge.
Before Alexandre and Victoria left, they heard about his passing and decided to attend and use it as an opportunity to say goodbye to the rest of the crew.
Sam also joined with some of his crew to pay their respects.
It was the first time in quite a while that Edward had been aboard his ship, but the circumstances were far from pleasant. He had already prepared mentally for Herbert's passing, but the suddenness and the manner were unexpected.
Only those who were on land in Nassau knew the truth of what had happened. They told the crew that he had died of illness from an infected wound and kept Herbert's head covered to hide his final shame. None of the crew who knew the truth blamed Christina for helping her brother end his life and end his pain, but it was a shock nonetheless.
Christina remained composed as best she could for the funeral, but her eyes were red, and she either kept one hand on her rose necklace or clutching tight to her pant leg. She told Edward that she couldn't bear to say anything given what she had done. Edward thought the poor girl wouldn't have made it through more than a few words either way.
And, so, the task fell to Edward. Edward walked up the ladder to the quarterdeck slowly. He could feel all eyes on him, and he thought it funny that some time ago, the thought of speaking in front of such a large crowd terrified him. Now, the crew, and him also, thought nothing of the act.
Edward looked at the immense helm, Herbert's domain. He touched the familiar wood, staring at it for a moment. He could almost picture Herbert holding it, his wheelchair positioned at an angle so that he could reach the massive wheel. The thought made him smile.
"You know," he began, changing what he had planned to say, "this wheel is almost as tall as I am." Edward held his hand out, gesturing to visualize the height difference. It reached his neck at its highest point. "And yet, Herbert, our helmsman sat half that height." Edward moved his hand down, below the railing of the quarterdeck. "One would wonder if Herbert was manning the helm, or if the helm was manning Herbert." Edward's comment made the crew laugh. Then he pointed at the wheel. "Day in and day out, Herbert struggled with this beast, and he won." He clenched his fist. "He won every single day in his battle to ensure that each one of you got to where you wanted to go. To make sure that each of you was safe from storms. To make sure that we won any battle we had at sea." Edward let the words hang in the air for a minute. "Each one of us, at some point or another, owed our life to Herbert. And now we won't ever get the chance to repay that debt."
Edward needed a moment. And from the looks of it, so did many in the crew. His eyes were watering. He wiped them and took a few deep breaths.
"Herbert was my brother," he said. "We may not have shared blood, but he was my brother. We fought like brothers, too, as you're well aware." The crew chuckled again, and Edward could see a few wiping tears away as well. Anne, comforting Christina, wiped her eyes. "He was our brother. We were his family." The crew shouted in agreement. "Now, with his vengeance complete, may he rest in peace." The crew roared again at Edward's declaration.
Edward nodded to Pukuh to begin the final ceremony. As he had done before for others in the crew, he placed a piece of corn and a small piece of jade in Herbert's mouth: food for the journey he was about to take, and jade to pay for passage. Then he said a prayer, which the other crewmates joined in by bowing their heads.
The crew placed Herbert in a longboat and lowered it into the sea. They tossed a torch inside before letting it loose on the swells. As his body drifted out, some in the crew fired off muskets into the air. After three shots, they stopped, and it meant the service was over, but many continued to watch as the longboat went farther and farther out to sea, the fire reaching higher as it and Herbert drifted from the earth.
…
"So, Silver Eyes was putting everyone in a trance?"
Anne nodded as she took a bite from some food they'd brought into their cabin. "It's a shame you weren't there to see it. It was hard to imagine that the islanders could be so far gone from a simple trance, but I suppose it's a testament to your father's crew."
Edward and Anne, as well as the rest of the crew, had decided to stay aboard the ship after the funeral. They had a feast where many drank to Herbert's honour and recounted his time at the helm. Some even lamented being against him at first but gaining respect for him due to his tenacity.
After the feast, and after Anne saw Christina to her bed where she finally slept after some mournful drinking, Edward and Anne had retreated to their cabin where they sat leaning against their bed, a plate of food in front of them and a lantern nearby. Anne told Edward about what had happened on the island, and how Silver Eyes had controlled the crew to attack them.
Edward shivered at the thought of the men and women of the island, hollow-eyed and out for blood, and stronger than one with their full senses.
"What say we take a trip to the Devil's Triangle?" Edward said with a grin. "We can switch places: you join Herbert and kill my father, I'll take the ship and go after Silver Eyes."
Anne gave Edward a dark look. "Don't jest about such things. We've already been there once, and once was too much." She shook her head. "I cannot believe that what we saw there was real. If that's true, then we cannot go back. If we were to change something in the past, then it could have untold effects on the present. Our present, at least."
"That's not how I see it," Edward said. "Think about it. We were already well into our journey for the keys when we entered that mist. My father said that my visit to him secured his doubts about what he was going to do. And, you said William did the exact same thing that he had done in the past: he left the room where his king was and didn't go back in to stop his murder. The present was the same in both situations. Going back didn't change anything because it played out exactly as it had. Even if we go again, whatever happened would have already happened in the past, and the present would remain the same."
Anne raised her brow. "But what about Sam and Miss Alston?"
Edward opened his mouth to respond and then closed it again. He looked off to the side as he thought it over. Sam and Theodosia Burr Alston, whom at the time they had thought was their enemy, had been with William in his vision of the past. They had most certainly not been there with William when he had been a royal guard, so them being there must have changed history.
"My dear, I'm far too intoxicated for this right now. You've just rattled my brain a bit too much."
"Eat something, Ed," Anne said, handing him some meat and bread.
Edward ate the food offered, and despite wanting to move on from their time in the Devil's Triangle, a thought occurred to him. "You've never told me about what you saw that day," he said.
Anne looked at Edward for a moment, her red curls draped over her shoulders as she moved her head. She looked away and at the wall. "I, like you, saw my parents. Both of them. I didn't know
where I was at first, but I quickly realized it was one of my mother's houses. I hid when I heard someone coming, and it turned out to be my mother. She had just given birth to my brother George, but he died minutes after." Anne leaned her head back and looked at the ceiling above. "I would have been eight at the time, far too young to remember the details, but I do remember the fights. My father tried his best to console my mother, but she rebuffed him. My mother's friend, Sarah, came next and comforted my mother in her time of need. Then my aunt visited, and Sarah left. Instead of comforting her, my aunt berated my mother for her relationship with Sarah. They fought, shouting at each other the vilest things." Anne closed her eyes for a moment. "That was the last time they saw each other."
Edward watched as Anne told her story. Her expression was a mixed shadow of pity and anger that had simmered and evaporated over the years but still existed in the ether.
He remembered what his father had told him about Anne's mother. She had passed almost a year ago. He hadn't told Anne about it yet, but he knew he should. Before he could, Anne continued her story.
"I never did put the two together, but I realize now why my leaving was such a betrayal to her, why she chose to declare me dead as a way of disowning me and sending an assassin to make it true. Though they fought, my mother loved my aunt, but my aunt was so cruel to her. That's what made her an overbearing, overprotective and controlling woman. The cruellest irony is that that's what pushed me away." Anne glanced at Edward and let out a sheepish chuckle as she wiped the mist from her eyes. "Sorry, Ed, it's the drink talking. I didn't mean to drown you in melancholy."
Edward laid his hand on Anne's and looked deep into her eyes. "Never apologize for opening your heart to me. I am your husband, remember? We're supposed to share in the burdens too, not just the joys."
Anne leaned forward and kissed Edward, then the two embraced. Anne held him tight, and Edward could feel the slight damp of fallen tears against his back.
"I love you, Edward," she said.
"I love you too, my Anne."
They sat there for a moment in silence. Anne repositioned so that she was leaning her back into his chest, and she held Edward's arms wrapped around her body. The stars shone outside, giving a small bit of light into the cabin along with the ever-dimming lantern in front of them.
"Besides, there's no use worrying about the dead. It's a lesson we'll both have to learn, it seems," Anne said suddenly.
Anne's comment shocked Edward. "What?"
She turned a bit and looked up at Edward. "Yes, I suppose I never told you. Back when we were in Porto Bello, I learned that my mother passed away."
Edward's jaw dropped in shock. "You knew?"
Anne sat up and turned around to face Edward. "Wait, you knew about it too?"
"I just found out recently. I was trying to find the right time to tell you about it." Edward let out a sigh and ran his fingers through his hair.
"Well, I suppose I've saved you the trouble," Anne said with a laugh.
"I suppose so."
They sat in silence once again.
After a moment, Anne shook her head. "We're quite the pair, aren't we?" she said.
Edward cocked his brow. "I recall I said the same to you once. What do you mean by it?"
"Though you weren't aware at the time, you had an overbearing, controlling father who tried to kill you, the same as my mother. Fate is the mother of all coincidences. I take that as more proof we were meant to be together."
Edward smiled at his wife. The thought that they were meant to be together, though their shared circumstances may have been the inciting incidents, warmed his heart.
"Anne, I want you to have this," Edward said as he reached into his pocket. He pulled the driftwood seashell necklace and handed it to her. "It was my mother's. My father had it with him. I think it would be better if you kept it safe."
She examined the carved necklace with care and reverence, gently touching the curves in the porous wood. After a moment, she put it around her neck.
"How does it look?" she asked.
"Better than it would on me," he replied with a grin.
Anne laughed with him. "You've never talked about your mother before. Tell me about her."
Edward told Anne about the only memory he had left of his mother: her beautiful, long black hair, as black as onyx, and wavy like the summer sea. Then he recounted the stories that his father had told him about her and finished with his father's comment about his mother not being meant for this world.
Anne gave him a warm smile, then touched the necklace. "I'll keep it safe and wear it with pride."
She turned around and laid her head in Edward's lap. She held his hand across her chest, and they sat there for a time. Edward watched the stars outside the cabin as the waves splashed against the hull, the familiar sound pulling at his core and reminding him of what he missed on his ship.
The familiar smells of the sea air and the Caribbean pine that lined the ship from stem to stern, as well as his wife's warmth in his lap, calmed his mind. For the moment, despite the loss of his father and his brother Herbert, he was at peace.
"So, have you thought about what we'll do from here?" Anne asked.
Edward looked at his wife, her eyes deep green like the ocean, her gleaming red hair shining in the light of the lantern. The small freckles around her face and her rose-coloured lips made his heart race.
"I have a few things in mind for us to do tonight," he said with a cheeky grin. Anne smacked his hand, but she couldn't hold back a smile and a blush. Edward kissed his wife, then looked out the window to the stars again. "We're free from our horrible parents, and we're pirates. We can do whatever we want."
Epilogue
It was a stormy day, and Edward holed himself up in his father's study reading through the mass of notes and letters, ledgers and journals left behind. He was trying to find some purpose behind the noise, trying to stay afloat in the business his father had created.
Suddenly, the doors to the study swung open on a gust of wind. Edward looked up to see an older man with salt and pepper hair and a pipe sticking out of his mouth at the entrance. The man held no weapon, but Edward drew a pistol all the same.
Edward stood up from his seat and pointed the pistol at the man. He held his finger at the ready but didn't fire. "Who are you? What are you doing here?"
The man looked Edward up and down, as though appraising him. "So yer the egg, eh?" he said in a gravelly voice. "You'd better have been worth all this. I lost my eye because o' you."
Edward, from this distance, could just barely make out the slash on the man's left eye and cheek. His eye looked clouded over.
"I'm afraid you have me mistaken for another," he said. "Now, I'll ask you to leave unless you want to die."
The man nodded and stepped forward, unfazed. The sound of a peg leg snapped against the wood of the floor. "Aye, you have some fire in you, that's good," the man said. He looked around the room, then when he eyed a cabinet nearby, he stalked over to it and opened it up to find a bottle of liquor. "You remember the man you fought, Edward Russell? What was the name that fool called himself? Ah, yes, Plague. What a joke. At least when people call me a foolish name, it wasn't my idea."
The mention of the assassin Edward had fought piqued his interest. He didn't lower the pistol, but he did approach the man. "What about him?"
The old man pulled the cork of the liquor out with his teeth, spat it away, and took a long drink. "I'm the reason you won that fight, little egg," he said. Then he motioned with two fingers from his left shoulder in a line to his right hip.
It took a moment to remember, but Edward recalled that Plague had had a wound in that same spot. The wound had only been hours old when they had fought, and Edward surmised that without that wound, he very well might not have won his fight. Only those who were with Plague, or on Edward's crew, knew of that wound.
Edward furrowed his brow. "Who are you?" he asked again.
"I'm William
Kidd. Some fools call me The Tsunami. I'm a friend of yer father, and I'm here to help you with what comes next."
THE END
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About The Author
JEREMY IS CURRENTLY LIVING IN NEW BRUNSWICK, CANADA WITH HIS WIFE HEATHER, AND THEIR TWO CATS, NAVI AND THOR.
Jeremy's first foray into the writing world was during a writing competition called NaNoWriMo, where the goal is to write a certain number of words in the month of November.
After completing the novel he started, and some extensive rewrites, he felt it was worthy of publishing and self-published his first novel, Blackbeard's Freedom in September, 2012.
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Table of Contents
BLACKBEARD'S FAMILY 1. Stabbed in the Heart Through the Back
2. Resolve
3. Course Correction
4. Captain's Orders
Blackbeard's Family Page 26
