Blackbeard's Revenge (Voyages Of Queen Anne's Revenge Book 2)

by Jeremy McLean

  "I believe this is a star chart, with a time for when we can see them. With this, the latitude, and the location, I believe we deciphered the riddle."

  "Excellent!" Edward left the cabin immediately. "Crew, we solved the riddle and are on our way to unlocking the next part of this ship," Edward yelled to the men. The crew cheered. "And we owe our thanks to Christina!" More cheers and hoots rose above the din. Christina and company left the cabin. Edward picked Christina up and held her on his broad shoulder. "Three cheers for Christina Blackwood."

  "Hip-hip-hurrah! Hip-hip-hurrah! Hip-hip-hurrah!" the crew yelled, caught in the fever of praise to the young lady.

  Christina was nearly in tears, but unlike in the past long while, the tears were not of sorrow, but of joy. She carried a wide grin as she sat on Edward's pedestal-like shoulder.

  …

  Another seven weeks passed as Freedom sailed to the Bermuda Triangle. Edward and crew resumed training with Anne and William. For most of the crew, having slacked in the past year, training felt like starting anew.

  Edward also wanted Anne to do more personal one-on-one sessions with Christina. Anne was reluctant at first, but when she saw Christina's determination she quickly approved. Christina showed much promise, and her quick mind helped in her growth.

  Henry, ever since the escape from Portsmouth, was downtrodden and lethargic most of the time. Edward could see Henry was angry as well. At first, Edward attributed Henry's mood to the loss of the crewmates and the general temper aboard Freedom, but Henry's disposition lingered as time passed.

  Edward approached Henry when he was alone one day. "Henry, are you upset about anything?"

  Henry smiled, but to Edward it felt hollow. "No, nothing at all, Edward. We're safe and we're free. What would I have to worry about?"

  "You were rather distraught with our escape, as well as running into Robert. I am too, but you must understand, tying him up was for his benefit. If Robert let us leave, he would have been in as much trouble as us. If Robert ran off for help we either would have fought him on one of the ships, or been captured before we could leave. There really was no choice in the matter."

  Henry kept that same smile. "Of course. I understand completely."

  Edward considered Henry for a moment, skeptical, but unsure of what to say. "If there is anything you wish to talk about—"

  "Yes, I will come to you," Henry said, cutting Edward off.

  The trip carried on with Henry appearing less agitated, but whether mere acting or him actually coming to terms with his feelings, Edward did not know.

  Sam, on the other hand, increased in uneasiness and agitation the closer the ship came to the Bermuda Triangle. Any little chop in the waters or high wind would trigger sweats, and the slightest loud noises caused Sam to jump.

  Edward attempted talking with Sam, but all Edward could rouse out of him was, "Something… happened there, but you would not believe me." Sam would not say another word on the matter, but it was apparent that the travel weighed on him heavily.

  When Herbert took the Freedom into the Bermuda Triangle, the rest of the crew became as agitated as Sam. Many of the older crewmates had heard stories of unbelievable happenings in the triangle, and their nervousness passed to the younger men. Even Edward couldn't help but be on edge.

  Through various calculations, and compensating for magnetic variations in his compass, Herbert brought the Freedom to the specified latitude. The sails were furled and the Freedom was left to drift. As the night wore on, the wind deadened. The calm was eerie.

  Herbert, using the star chart as a reference, guided the gunners to aim the cannons at the specified stars, which also happened to be in a triangle pattern. When the time indicated on the chart came, Herbert would command the gunners to fire.

  The entire crew stayed awake for the event, all of them armed, eying the horizon, shifting at every sound. Sam had several weapons at the ready and was sweating profusely.

  The night was cold, colder than normal due to the humidity in the air. Edward shivered and thought he could see his breath in front of him.

  Herbert watched his overly complicated moon dial, which Edward had no chance of learning how to read, until the time was one hour past midnight. "Fire!" Herbert commanded.

  With the slightest hesitancy, the gunners fired their cannons in the direction of the stars.

  The crew tensed as the iron balls flew through the air. Edward gripped his cutlass, John and Anne aimed their rifles, William clenched his fists, Henry held a blunderbuss, and Sam held twin pistols with whitened knuckles. All eyes followed the cannonballs until the iron disappeared into thin air. Poof. Gone. Not even a splash sounded.

  "Did everyone else see that?" Or should I say not see that?

  Before any could respond, an unnatural fog emerged from where the cannonballs vanished. A great howling of wind ushered the fog around the Freedom, and soon the entire area around them was covered in pale white.

  Edward shivered, partially from the cold night and partially from the supernatural spectacle. What is this devilry?

  The fog shielded the crew's vision to twenty feet off the rail, and the howling gusts sounded like a woman's shriek. Even the most hardened man now carried a weapon in hand, and a sweat-soaked brow above the eyes.

  While the crew was caught unawares, a ship struck the bow of the Freedom and jolted the crew. Men fell to the deck from the quaking, and shots were fired into the air. Edward ordered calm, and ran to the bow to see the ship.

  The ship scraping along the side of the Freedom was a small merchantman, the name Patriot emblazoned on the side. It had no weapons, and the civilian crew on board seemed just as frightened by events as Edward's crew.

  The merchantman did not slow as its port splintered Freedom's wood. The ship eventually lurched to the side and separated from Freedom, then sailed off into the fog once more.

  Edward's lips were a hard line, and his anger rose. "Hard to port! Follow that ship. It has some explaining to do," he snarled.

  Before Edward's men could gain grip of their senses and take action, another ship came up beside Freedom, this time a sixth-class frigate with the name Le Pandore. It appeared to be in pursuit of the Patriot, but upon seeing Freedom, pulled up its sails and slowed itself as quickly as it could.

  The crew of Le Pandore were waving as if greeting friends. Edward's crew lowered their weapons, but out of confusion rather than familiarity. Edward also noticed that the fog had dissipated, and the merchantman Patriot was almost past the horizon and out of sight.

  Le Pandore turned around and eased itself up next to Freedom, then sent over grappling lines to hook the ships together. A gangplank was set for the crew to cross over, and the captain of Le Pandore was the first to step onto the Freedom.

  The captain was a shorter man, a little over halfway between five and six feet, wearing a tall black top hat, a red vest with coattails, a white tunic with bow tie, and itchy grey cotton pantaloons. His face was of French perfection, and with high-set eyes and long chin and nose, he was handsome in his own way.

  "Benjamin Hornigold, where are you, my old friend?" he yelled in a light French accent as he boarded the Freedom, searching but not finding the man he called out for. "This is no time for a prank, dear fellow, friends are here."

  The sails flapped in the silence pervading the guest's declaration.

  Sam, his mouth agape and stepping closer to the captain of Le Pandore, trembled at the sight of the man. He held out his hand like he was reaching for something too far away.

  "Father?" Sam questioned, staring dead in the eyes of the captain.

  The captain peered at Sam with a raised brow. At first, his expression was pure confusion, but it quickly changed to recognition and then shock.

  "Sam?" he asked incredulously. The man ambled over to Sam, and Sam met him.

  Sam held out his hand to shake, but the captain pushed aside his hand and embraced him. "It is good to see you, my son."

  11. The Ghosts
of the Island Beyond Time

  The crew observed the spectacle with mixed shock, confusion, and awe. No one knew what to make of the situation. When Sam and the mystery captain parted, Sam introduced him to Edward and the crew.

  "Everyone, this is Dominique You, the Captain of Le Pandore and a man I call my father."

  Dominique bowed with a flourish of his top hat. "A pleasure to meet you all. Though I am not Samuel's real father, I consider him my son, and I thank you for taking care of him." Dominique rested a hand on Sam's shoulder. "I thought we'd lost you, and I have many questions, but we can catch up momentarily. I am at a disadvantage, as I do not recognise the crew, but I know the ship intimately. Who, pray tell, is the captain?"

  "This man here," Sam replied, pointing to Edward.

  "Edward Thatch." Edward extended his hand.

  Dominique took Edward's hand and shook firmly. "Might I also ask the year?"

  Edward raised his brow to the odd question, but after what happened, he didn't know what was odd or not. "The year is seventeen-oh-seven."

  "Ah, well I understand now. What Samuel here may have been reluctant to impart to you is the nature of where we are from, or should I say when? No matter. We are from the year eighteen-thirteen."

  The Freedom's crew laughed nervously at the statement, but Dominique was unfazed. He and his crew kept straight faces, and the laughter soon stopped and turned to awkward silence.

  "Surely you jest?" Edward asked.

  "Not so, Sam can attest to the truth of our words as well. He was part of my crew until the age of ten in the year eighteen-ten, yet now he is here before me at the age of twenty and some. That… fog we travelled through brought us here to seventeen-oh-seven."

  "I fell overboard in a storm 'ere in the Devil's Triangle, and when I awoke I was in the year sixteen-ninety-six. That's why I am fearful of this place. Strange things happen."

  To the crew, slack-jawed and bewildered, "strange" was a severe understatement. Even William carried an expression of pure disbelief plastered on his face.

  Dominique laughed nonchalantly. "Yes, strange things indeed. Now, if you do not mind, can we continue chasing our quarry? I will stay aboard and we can discuss more while my crew leads the chase. Have your helmsman follow us."

  Edward shook his head to clear the momentary confusion. "Yes, I believe further explanation is in order." Edward ordered Herbert to follow Le Pandore while Captain Dominique ordered his crew to continue pursuit. The grappling hooks were released and the ships were soon sailing once more.

  Captain Dominique joined Edward, Sam, and the senior members of Freedom's crew to talk in Freedom's war room in the stern cabin. Dominique wanted to hear their story before he told his. Sam relayed what he had been doing the past eleven years and how he ended up on the Freedom, and Edward continued the story with a hint of Benjamin's game and the keys and their dealings with the British, while omitting certain sensitive details.

  "Ah, well that explains this then," Dominique said as he pulled out a key from his pocket.

  Edward's jaw dropped for the third time that evening. "Is that…?"

  Dominique laughed. "Yes it is. I met Benjamin Hornigold one year ago in my time. Before he left he wanted me to hold onto this key, but never explained the meaning. When you meet a man such as him, and he asks you to keep something safe, you keep it safe."

  "So, I guess Benjamin wants us to help you then?" Edward questioned, more to himself.

  Dominique nodded. "I am chasing the ship the Patriot, which is carrying one Theodosia Burr Alston whom we mean to capture."

  "And what is the purpose of capturing one woman?" Henry asked, wary of the supposed time-hopping captain.

  Dominique paused, considering his words. "I hope you gentlemen understand if I keep the details light, as we don't know what could happen. Agreed?" Edward nodded for Dominique to continue. "In eighteen-thirteen, a war is raging between North America and the British Empire. Alston is a spy for the British, and because her father is the Vice President, the second in charge, of the North American colonies, she has access to sensitive information. Her father was arrested and suspected of treason due to her exploits."

  "Hmm, the year has changed, but we have a common enemy." Edward rose from his seat at the head of the war room table. He extended his hand. "We will help you capture Alston, and you will give us the key we seek in return, agreed?"

  Dominique returned Edward's gesture. "Agreed. The Patriot is heading to Charleston, and, as they are not aware of the mishap which has occurred with our date, they will continue as if nothing is the matter."

  "How long will travel to Charleston take?"

  "From where we are? A week at most."

  "What happens when we catch this woman? What will you do with her?" Henry challenged.

  Dominique had a crooked smirk as he glanced at his men then back to Henry. "If possible, we come back here to return her to my time and put her on trial. Is this acceptable to you, sir?" Dominique asked while mockingly bowing his head.

  Edward held his hand up to silence Henry when he seemed poised to respond angrily. "This is acceptable," Edward reassured Dominique. "Now, we must hear all about your exploits in the next century, provided you approve?"

  Dominique laughed. "I don't see the harm in talking about myself. I'm not so special. I would enjoy hearing more detail of this game you play as well."

  Edward regaled Dominique with stories of their adventures and the trials left by Benjamin and how the Freedom arrived in the Devil's Triangle. During travel, Sam talked with Dominique and nearly spent every waking hour with him. He admired and looked up to the man like he was his flesh-and-blood father.

  Although Dominique was an agreeable and cheerful man, Henry bore some misgivings about the whole situation. He kept a close eye on Dominique and tried to listen to all his conversations. After a few days of travel, Sam caught on to what Henry was doing and told him off, almost sparking a fight between the two. Edward would have none of it and met with Henry alone.

  "Why are you bothering our guests, Henry?" Edward asked.

  "I don't think we should trust Dominique."

  "And why shouldn't we?"

  Henry cocked his brow. "Do you really believe he is from another time? This whole story reeks of a fable."

  "What about Sam, then? He confirmed the tale."

  "Sam was but a boy when he was with Dominique. What if this is simply a jest which went too far, and now Dominique is keeping up appearances?"

  "Why lie to us then?"

  "To gain our trust, of course. He sees a familiar ship, but an unfamiliar crew, save Sam. Sam was a babe when he was lost, so Dominique thinks if he upholds the tale he wove years ago he will have an easier time getting what he wants from us. Dominique could have told us anything about the ship he's chasing, and because of Sam we are more likely to believe him."

  Edward nodded, stroking his beard. "I do admit the story is hard to believe, but their story doesn't matter to me. Sam trusts Dominique, so I trust him, Henry. End of discussion."

  Henry snorted. "In that case, don't turn to me when you find out we've been lied to."

  "Good to know who I can rely on these days," Edward said as Henry walked out of the war room. What is this mood he's been in recently?

  A crewmate knocked on the door to the war room, and after Edward beckoned him inside, he told Edward that Herbert wished to see him. Edward went to the quarterdeck to see Sam, Herbert, Dominique, and Dominique's helmsman. Sam had a pallor like none Edward had seen before.

  "What is the urgent issue, Herbert?"

  Herbert glanced at Dominique. "From what we surmise, our ships have been going in circles the past three days. We have not left the Triangle."

  Edward's brow cocked. "How has this happened?"

  "We don't know, my boy. Something about the air is foul, and I fear that this is the work of the Devil in his abode. Some force does not want us to leave."

  Herbert ignored Dominique's ramblings. "I have
been keeping a track of our movements each day, and we have been moving forward, but when I recheck our status on the morrow, we are somewhere different. The first day I chalked it up to a mistake I might have made, or a malfunction of my instruments, but Dominique's helmsman confirmed it.

  "What do we do, then?"

  Herbert shrugged his shoulders. "The one thing we can do is keep moving and hope whatever is the cause dissipates."

  Sam wiped sweat off his brow. "Ain't there somethin' that can be done? Each day 'ere is like tightenin' a vice on our knickers. We go'n circles enough somethin' bad's gonna happen."

  Dominique patted Sam on the head. "Fret not, son. We shall find a means of escape."

  "Dominique is correct, Sam. This is but a temporary setback."

  "Land ho!" a crewman screamed from the crow's nest.

  After their eyes darted to the crewmate, all eyes scanned the bow for the land. Herbert and Dominique both pulled out spyglasses and peered into them.

  "How…?" Herbert sputtered before dropping his spyglass and rummaging through papers on his lap. "We've been in this area before, and there was no island," Herbert commented. Beads of sweat formed on his temple and ran down his cheek, a physical indicator that Herbert was out of his depth and had no scientific explanation for what was happening.

  Edward placed his hand on Herbert's shoulder. "Land us on the island, Herbert. I intend to find the cause of this mystery, one way or another."

  Herbert nodded slowly. "Aye, aye, Captain."

  The two ships approached the island, the wind picking up and almost guiding them straight for the beach. The island was surrounded by fog which blotted out the sun when they neared. When they were close, Edward could see a ship berthed at the beach, and he guessed correctly the vessel was the Patriot.

  "I have a feeling we were not the only ones who became stuck in the Triangle," Edward commented to Dominique.

  Even as the ships closed in on the beach, there was no activity upon the Patriot, and when the sails were furled and secured no signs of life presented themselves. The island itself was unpleasantly silent and barren. Edward could only see the beach of sand and flat grass for a hundred feet, then the fog became so thick it made a wall.