“I’ve seen the struggle within you during our ridiculous bickering. Put it all to bed, Miles…for good. Our mission is clear. Our plans for the first vessel we encounter have not changed. Disable the rudder. No harm is to come to anyone, unless absolutely necessary.”
“What of the new men?”
“We never trust new men.” I rested my chin on my knuckles. “To have stayed with a ship that was so obviously a failure, to the point of dying of hunger, one would need to be truly engrained as a pirate. We don’t have time to weed through them. Whoever volunteers must prove their loyalty in action. Those who prove unworthy shall be put ashore at the nearest port.”
“Aye, that makes sense. Nassau?”
“No, that’s the last place to leave them,” I said. “Also, they are not to know who we are.”
“And the reason?”
“If they know they’re aboard what was the Majesty’s Venture and with there being a price on our heads, they’ll sing like birds for pardons.”
“I’ll gather the loyal and inform them. Pray some idiot hasn’t already flapped his lips.” Miles rose to leave.
“Miles, wait; the ones I’ve already chosen for Gabriel’s Wing are those tried and true. They already know better than to trust these pirates.”
“Ahead of me as always. Good.”
“Arm the Wing heavily. Load her down with all spare armament. When one sees her, they’ll not be mistaken that she means war.”
“Consider it done.” Miles moved quickly from my cabin, leaving me with no doubt as to his loyalty and I was confident he no longer held any doubt in me as well.
Over the next twenty-four hours, I stayed out of sight of the pirates aboard Gabriel’s Wing. I would be too easily identified by the authorities, if ever they bothered to find them. I had worn a tricorn when I had boarded her and my hair had been well concealed. Now I needed to keep up the secret for only a day or two longer at the most.
By the time we set sail after the convoy of ships again, Gabriel’s Wing was unrecognizable as her former self. Swift and powerful, she was now a force to be feared in the Caribbean. Having rethought my idea of surrender and accepting that my fate was already sealed, I believed Gabriel’s Wing wouldn’t be the only force to recon with in these waters from now on.
Twenty-Six
The Buckingham was sighted just before sunset. The thirty-five gun frigate was the rearguard for the Admiral Chambers’s treasure ship. With a vigilant watcher in our nest, the Stegman was spotted a mere fifty yards ahead of her.
“Why do we not simply take the Stegman in the night?” Miles asked as he followed close behind me to the helm.
“We stay with our original plan,” I stopped and whispered. “She’s about to collect a great deal of gold from Chambers’s off-the-books warehouses in Port Royal; unimagined wealth, accumulated through stolen goods sold off by pirates. Miles,” I said, pulling him by the sleeve until my mouth spoke directly into his ear. “Haven’t you ever wondered why, until we started this endeavor, not one of Chambers’s ships was ever sacked by pirates?”
He remained silent as the reality of the depths of Chambers’s treacherous tactics and practices sank into his cluttered brain. “You have to trust me, man. I may not disclose every detail of my plots but rest assured. You must realize I have seen this all clearly in my mind and researched his movements and behavior down to the finest grain of sand. One more day, Miles. One more blasted day and we’ll be finished.”
Miles had been silent since he’d been left behind for the mission. I had placed him in command while Clarke took his place with Ryan. With Gimby aboard Gabriel’s Wing, I needed Miles watching over the Assurance. There was no protest, merely silent, seething disappointment. Now, however, having forced my words into his ear, he could be as silent as the grave, as long as he followed my orders.
The Buckingham’s crew was quiet, unsuspecting of any efforts of sabotage in the middle of the night, as she sat anchored off the shore of her last stop in Port Royal. Mitton and I had reached the rudder of the ship. He looped the chain around the rudder itself as best he could. When the helmsman of the Buckingham spun her wheel in an attempt to avoid the seemingly full powder kegs set before her, the rudder would shatter.
I signaled to Mitton that the watch was about to make his pass on his circuit of the Buckingham. A rudder’s chain is cumbersome to manage under the most ideal circumstances but after a long swim and repeated diving in order to wrap the links around the rudder itself, fatigue was setting in on Mitton. Slippery chains and exhausted arms brought disaster; Mitton dropped the chain. The metal striking metal rang out like cathedral bells over the water. We both froze, locking eyes with each other—he in the shadows and I exposed, while we waited to see if the watch was coming to church.
Even from the harbor below, the sounds of purposeful boots hitting the deck above proved our hopes dashed. As the guard leaned over to investigate the noise, he couldn’t see Mitton, but in the moonlight, it was impossible for him not to see me.
“Keep the boat nearby. I’ll rejoin you as soon as I’m able,” I whispered to Mitton, already acknowledging my fate.
“Man overboard!” I believed he assumed I was one of his own. I waved to Mitton to stay hidden. The man never left the railing. I stilled and accepted my misfortune.
“Ahoy down there?” A voice boomed.
I lifted my arm and feigned a weak wave.
“Take the line!”
The rope dropped and penetrated the surface of the water a few feet before me. I crept towards it, wrapped it about me and held on until I was pulled aboard with ease by several men. Leaning against the gunnel, my long, salt-watered and sticky hair fell into my face, where it caught itself in the coarse stubble of my regrown beard. I counted on the shadows, much as my old friend Carbonale had, to conceal my identity from the approaching men.
“Find the surgeon,” a commanding voice said.
I panted, clinging to the rail and lowered my head when that voice hit my memory like a plank of wood. I raised my eyes and peered through the clumps of my wet mane that draped over my face and found myself in a nightmare. Commodore Gerald Laird, father of Captain Henry Laird, whom I had last seen bloodied in our tangle in Boston. I should have known someone of high rank would be involved in the escort of the Stegman and her belly full of treasures. It unfortunately explained his financial status as well. Still, a lowly thirty-four gun frigate did not make sense.
“Young man, are you injured?”
“Aye, sir.” Rasmus answered for me.
“What were you doing in the water?” Commodore Laird asked.
“I was fishing about a mile out just before dusk and my dinghy started takin’ on water, sir. I tried to swim for it and wore myself out.”
He nodded his head full of iron grey hair as I prayed silently he’d not recognize me. “We will find some dry clothes and I imagine you’re hungry after such an ordeal.” He turned to a young lieutenant. “Mister Asperson, see to the man. I’ll determine what action to take in the morning. Find the man an empty bunk where the surgeon may attend to him.”
The Commodore turned back as I stood upright. “Sir, what is your name, so I may make note of it in the log?”
“Rasmus Bergman...sir.”
“Very well, Mister Bergman.” His smile approved of my choice.
“This way,” Asperson said.
I followed sluggishly but without complaint. He stopped briefly and ordered another young man to bring me some dry clothes and then we met the ship’s surgeon, who joined us on our way. The cabin I was led to was small with two bunks; one empty and one neatly made but obviously belonging to someone else. He lit the small lantern hanging inside the doorway. “That will be your bunk for your stay, unless the Commodore makes other plans,” Asperson said. I recognized his voice as that of my discoverer, the watchman.
“Thank ye, sir. Such fine accommodations for a lowly fisherman are…”
“This is the only empty bunk. The other is mine,” h
e said without expression. The young officer turned and left, leaving me with the surgeon.
“Doctor Ericks is the name, lad. Where is your pain?”
“I must have struck me head when me boat went down,” I said, leaning forward for him to get a better look.
He asked all the questions expected and upon feeling my head and the still somewhat tender place of my lingering wound, Ericks prescribed bed rest and quiet until I felt well enough to get up. In truth, I almost wished I could’ve enjoyed the solitude but if Mitton had fulfilled his part of the plan, the Buckingham would soon be lame and in her wounded state, I would find my escape. If not, I’d most likely be discovered in the light of day and end up a prisoner instead of a visitor.
Time passed slowly as I waited. The rudder sabotage could quite possibly rip a hole in the hull of the ship or, at the least, tear the rudder away and cause her to take on water. Being aboard the Buckingham, I now had an opportunity to do even more damage—guaranteed damage. My mind throbbed with scenarios of how to disable this ship. I needed to act.
Lieutenant Asperson periodically returned to his cabin during his watch throughout the night. Following his second check-in, I timed his visits well enough to know precisely when he’d show his face again. I wasted no time.
Slipping out of the cabin, I set off to find the pumping system. Rendering it useless would surely require as many men as possible to bail the ship out until repairs could be made to the damage hopefully caused by Mitton. The passageway to the deck was clear and I made my way into the night.
“Mister Bergman.” I jerked around and my hands instinctively flew to my head as I fell against the bulkhead, feigning pain. Asperson rushed to my side. “I did not mean to give you a start, sir. You should be in bed as the doctor ordered.” I leaned against the doorframe, taking slow, deep breaths. “May I get you some water?”
“Only if it be fresh water, sir. The rum-tainted stuff ain’t for me these days.”
He rushed away and returned quickly. A smile was on his face as he handed me a drink. “Fresh water from the storm not long past. And I must say; I am surprised to find a man out here that doesn’t enjoy the drink whenever he can.”
“Maybe back in me youth but I learnt me lesson the hard ways and me body done told me to lay down that vice for good.” As awkward as the speech was in my brain, it flowed easily from my lips and to Asperson; it appeared to be my legitimate tongue.
The young officer nodded. “Yes, I agree. I am not saying I would judge a man for having a drink at times but it is not for me.” Then he placed his hand over his heart and recited, “‘See then that ye walk circumspectly; not as fools, but as wise; redeeming the time, because the days are evil. Wherefore be ye not unwise, but understanding what the will of the Lord is. And be not drunk with wine, wherein is excess; but be filled with the Spirit.’”
“Ye be a man of the cloth?” I recognized the verses from Ephesians.
“No, sir, my father is. I do encourage and observe the word of our Father aboard ship but at times, I fear the Lord is left out of the goings-on of…” He stopped.
“All men forget in their own time, sir, yet they’re all reminded eventually.” I smiled at the young and untainted officer. I wished there was a way to save him from the disillusionment of the service into which he had ventured.
“The Commodore is very encouraging of young officers aboard his ships.”
“I do believe I heard tell of the Commodore a’fore. He’s a son in service as well, aye?”
“Yes. Captain Henry Laird.” There was a touch of excitement in his voice. Henry had that effect on young officers. “He is the captain of one of our consorts.” I should have known. It pained me to know Henry would be involved in helping to transport such ill-gotten cargo. His being the captain of a ship we would most likely soon do battle with was a sad revelation. War would, yet again, make enemies of friends.
“Are you all right, Mister Bergman?” Asperson asked.
“I’m comin’ about, lad.” I took a deep breath to clear my head. “What brings such a distinguished group a’ gentlemen into these waters?”
Asperson tensed slightly. “Simply escorting a ship, sir and providing her safe passage. As I’m certain we both know, these waters are littered with pirate scum.”
“Ah, the fate and fortunes a’ the sea. Aye, the tales are endless. Alas, me tale is far less interesting. Imagine…yesterday evenin’ I’m fishin’ out there and here I stand, less than a day later, on the deck of a navy ship, talkin’ God and man with a fine young officer such as yourself.”
Asperson laughed. “Next time, test your dinghy and see that she’s seaworthy before venturing so far from shore.”
“As I said, I learn everythin’ the hard way.” I gave a genuine smile.
He laughed again. Finding this young man, like most honorable and dutiful young men I’d had the privilege of commanding, I was glad the Buckingham would not be involved in the coming battle. I had more than enough regrets. However, as we stood there and chatted in the darkest part of the night, my mind raced with what I needed to do. I would not be able to find my way into the hold with him as alert as he was. A thought came to me. “Do ye mind if I were to take a walk around the ship? I promise ye I won’t be goin’ swimmin’ this time.”
“I see no harm. Should you again feel ill, call out and Jefferson will come to your assistance.”
“Jefferson?”
“Yes. I’m going off watch and Jefferson is coming on. That’s where I was headed when I saw you. So, as I said, call for help. If not Jefferson, I’m sure someone will hear a shout.”
“I will be doin’ that for certain. I may tie a round of shot to me ankle, just in case, so as to keep me anchored.”
“Heaven forbid. I certainly would not advise it.” Asperson laughed.
I laughed as well and began my walk to the bow of the ship. The pace I set was maddeningly slow. I wanted the task to be done. It now occurred to me that, without knowledge as to whether or not Mitton had succeeded in disabling the rudder, I might better devise another plan. I headed for the capstan.
The anchor rode was taut but in the shallow waters of the harbor, there was still a considerable amount of chain left wrapped around the shaft. A soft breeze blew ripples over the water. The tide was going out. Without an anchor in place, the Buckingham would drift for a time, practically unnoticed. The question remained how to do it. I could attempt to raise the anchor but then they need only lower it again upon the discovery. Also, I didn’t have enough time or strength to raise it myself. My only option was to separate the anchor from the ship.
In the distance, I could see the Stegman outlined against the moon-hazed sky. I thought again, just as I did when we destroyed the masts and rigging of the Peregrine, what would happen to the sailors when they had to report their failure. Admiral Chambers was an unforgiving and beastly bastard. There would be few who would remain in the Royal Navy. Some would be imprisoned and as for the Commodore and Henry Laird, court-martials were certain. Why did I care? They’d sealed their own fates when they knowingly allowed greed to set their course to cross my path. Then, my thoughts for their fates calmed when I realized, Chambers would be gone soon.
I looked around in the darkness and shook away my pity and any semblance of remorse. Other than those young men who had no knowledge of their true mission and were innocents, the rest would pay. Although I wished those who were ignorant of their criminal acts no harm, they’d learn something very soon and perhaps live to seek out a new life at the end of this schooling.
I put out the lantern at the bow and poured the oil slowly over the rusty anchor chain to assist in quieting its descent. How in the hell I was going to find the strength to turn that capstan and release that anchor chain into the harbor, I didn’t know. I only knew I had to try. Once the chain was released, it would take every last shred of strength I had to restrain it from rolling.
I released that chain one link at a time, continuously watching
over my shoulder and holding my breath to keep from crying out from the agony of my back muscles feeling as if they were about to tear away from my bones. My shoulders were on fire. I imagined hearing voices and footsteps and I held my breath at every single link that crept into the water. Just as my body couldn’t bear another second of this abuse, I did hear a noise. It was the hard thud of a round of twenty pound shot repeatedly pounding against the last of the chain to break it. I’d removed my shirt and wrapped it around the cable to soften the sound of metal against metal, until after five hard blows, I heard the final clink of release and the splash of an iron chain slipping into the sea, followed by me.
“Cap’n Wallace,” a voice reached me over the sound of the sloshing sea in my ears as I floated on my back, exhausted. I heard the oars at work and before long, hands were grabbing me and pulling me into a boat.
“Ye did it, Cap’n,” Mitton said.
“Get us back to the Assurance.” I stayed in the bottom of the boat where I had landed.
“I…set her…adrift,” I managed to speak between sucking in breaths of air. “I released the anchor…into the water. She’s drifting…in the outgoing tide. They’ll be desperate to adjust… when they realize it and in the dark…they’ll panic.”
“Good God, Cap’n. No man can release a bloody anchor chain and not make a sound.” Mitton’s eyes widened as if he’d seen a ghost.
“Row, men, row. We need to be in position at dawn. Commodore Laird…is aboard the Buckingham.” Mitton froze. “Henry, his son, captains the other ship, the Lancaster.”
He nodded and ran his hands up and down over his face. “If the Commodore is here, that can only mean one person is givin’ orders aboard the Stegman.”
“Aye.” I draped my right forearm across my eyes.
“Admiral Chambers himself.” Mitten blew out a sigh of nervous tension.
“Now you know why we need not waste time.”
“Move out of the way, Rogers.” Mitton took the young man’s place at the oars. “The devil ‘imself is aboard that ship and we have ta catch ‘im a’fore he wakes up.”
AMBER WAKE: Gabriel Falling (The Razor's Adventures Pirate Tales) Page 18
