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

by Jeremy McLean

  "Yes, Your Majesty. I told my friends here how you wished to know the thoughts of the public on the War of Succession," William said, glancing to Sam and Alston.

  "So, Mister Bellamy, may we start with you? You are a London native, yes?" the King asked.

  Samuel glanced to William and then to the King, and after wiping sweat from his brow he nodded. "Well, sir, the people are… with the war… they…" Sam trailed off, then shook his head and ran his fingers through his black hair. "Sorry, Your Majesty, I'm gonna just talk as I normally does if it pleases you?"

  "By all means. We would not have it any other way," the King replied.

  "The people don' care 'bout the war. It be a battle over a title that means nothin' ta them. Tha people only care 'bout gettin' food on the table and hopin the war doesn't make it ta their shores. Sir, kids die in tha street every day from not bein able ta eat, and those with a roof o'er head don' fare much better."

  William's fist was in a ball, and his jaw was locked. He expected Sam to be Sam, but not to take it in this direction.

  The King nodded. "We suspected as much, but we were not aware the poor was as much a problem as you describe. We thank you for your candour. And you, Miss Alston, how do our western brothers feel about the war?"

  Alston jumped when her name was called, but quickly collected herself. "The west is currently with you, Sire. The territories siding with Britain are ready to go to war."

  "That is reassuring, but your use of the word 'currently' concerns me. Could you elaborate? Also, we must say your accent is interesting. We did not expect such change over such a short period of time."

  Alston peered at William and Sam. They had a dire look in their eyes from Alston's 'currently' slip, as they both recalled Dominique mentioning a war between the North American colonies and Britain in his time.

  "Well, Sire, to be perfectly frank, the colonies feel similarly to your people here. It is only whispers currently, but over time those whispers could turn into shouts. Shouts for independence. I have seen first-hand what war does to the young, and the old. I do not know if His Highness has participated in war, but I am sure you can imagine the horror, and the grief on the faces of young widows, sons, fathers, and mothers. None deserve that news. None." Alston's lip quivered, and she wiped tears from her eyes. William was watching her intently.

  The King was gazing at his bedsheets in a peculiar way, and after a moment he looked up at the three, then to Edward Russell. Russell nodded, silently answering the King's unspoken question.

  "Once again, we thank you both for your honesty. We will take your words to heart in the coming months. May we also be candid with you?" Sam and Alston nodded. "We are planning on speaking with Louis XIV to negotiate peace terms. We acted in anger, starting this foolish war."

  "Sire!" William spurted, getting lost in the illusion of his memories.

  The King held up his hand. "We speak the truth, William, my boy. The people deserve better than a war built on names and titles and lands. The people deserve a better ruler than one quick to anger. The people deserve peace."

  The King's words sent chills up William's spine, and he noticed the others had goose flesh. William was reminded that he saw the man in front of him not as a King, but a man who had faults and loved his people. From the looks on Sam and Alston's faces, he thought they felt the same.

  "Now, if you will excuse me, Sir William, Mister Bellamy, Miss Alston, I have more matters that need to be discussed with Mister Russell." The King gestured to a door to the right of William, and after a bow, William, Sam, and Alston left through the door.

  After closing the door behind him, William laid his back against it and let out a sigh. Seeing King William III alive and well, regardless of it being an illusion, was almost too much.

  Alston spoke up after a moment. "I believe some explanation is in order."

  William slowly opened his eyes and stood up straight. "Yes, you deserve as much after that." William stroked his chin. "As I tried to rush in telling you, the man in there is William III, King of England, Scotland, and Ireland up until the year seventeen-oh-two. This… illusion… seems to be drawn from my memory from six years ago, just before his death."

  Alston's eyes widened at the mention of the year. William and Sam gave her a moment. "So, that fog took us to the year seventeen-oh-seven?"

  William and Sam nodded, but then Sam glanced to the side. "Wait. What if we were taken to the year eighteen-thirteen?" Sam asked William.

  William furrowed his brow and stared at Sam. "You do not really think… No, we can worry about this later. For now, we still need to find our way out of this place."

  "I still have more questions, gentlemen."

  "Yes, of course."

  "As you have not asked me a question regarding my words with your King, I will assume you know of how North America is at war with Britain?"

  "Yes, we heard as much from the pirate chasing after you," William replied.

  "Then why have you pledged to help me if I am technically against Britain?"

  "I am not loyal to Britain. I was loyal to that man," William said, pointing to the King's room. "William III raised me as if I were his own son. I owe him a great deal, and I love him. After my conversation with him, an assassin killed him and framed me for the murder. I am loyal to the one whom I think is fit to wear the crown as William III did: with honour and dignity." William turned to Sam. "I feel that if Anne so chose it, she could lay claim to the throne. Her mother is not fit to rule. If we are in the future, or you, Miss Alston, are from the future, perhaps the reason why our brothers to the west want independence is due to mismanagement by Queen Anne."

  Sam laughed heartily. "William, yer so cold. I like this side of you." After another laugh petered out, Sam became inquisitive. "Wait, so who killed the King and frame ye?"

  "Over the years, I have wracked my brain trying to find the answer, and I believe it was right in front of me this whole time. The man who opened the secret entrance on us, Edward Russell, is the most likely culprit. I recall him taking my weapon from me before I talked with the King, the same as now, and in my haste I forgot to retrieve it when leaving, as I exited via a different route. When I returned to retrieve my weapon, the King was dead, my sword piercing his heart, and several "eye witnesses" were found to corroborate my involvement." William shook his head. "Right in front of me this whole time."

  Sam still had a puzzled look on his face. "How long from when you left the room to when the King was killed, would ye say?"

  William gazed at the ceiling as he thought. "I returned after thirty minutes, and he was not far gone, so possibly twenty minutes after I left."

  "Well, what are we waitin' fer, then? We may 'ave some time left, so let's get back in there and save him!" Sam yelled, reaching for the door.

  William grabbed Sam's hand. "I already told you, this is not real. This has already happened. We are simply watching the events unfold as in my memory."

  "I ain't dumb, ye ninny. This ain't jus' yer memory. We weren't here in yer memory, and somehow we 'ad a conversation with his kinglyness. Heck, if ye believe me father and this one 'ere," Sam said, pointing to Alston, "then it ain't such a stretch that this could be real, and we could change things. Even if it wus jus' a chance, don' ye want ta take it?" Sam pleaded.

  William paused for a moment to consider Sam's words, and appreciate the fact that the man whom he thought cared the least for him, or anything in general, actually cared a great deal.

  "No. Even if this is real, I would not change what has happened." Sam was speechless, but it was clear he had a question on the tip of his tongue. "If I save William III, it will drastically change the course of events in history, and in untold ways. We could be delaying a war perhaps, but what if a larger war erupts because of it?

  "The greater reason I will not act is for the sake of Anne and Edward. Anne and Edward will never meet, nor will many of the crew onboard the Freedom. I have never seen Anne more happy than on Freedom.
Also, if Anne or myself were not a part of the crew, Edward would not have been able to survive some of the trials he has faced up until now. I have grown to believe in Edward and feel that he will come to do great things.

  "You may think that I treat my position as a job, and I need to relax, but I am the way I am because I love the family that we've built on Freedom. I would not risk that for anything in the world."

  Sam smirked. "Even me?"

  William laughed. "Even you, Sam." If this is real, I am sorry, my King. I love you, but I've found my family, just as you wanted. I hope that is some solace.

  After a moment, William noticed movement in his peripheral vision. The fog was moving closer to the palace, and at an alarming rate.

  "The fog is growing. Quickly, hold hands so whatever happens we are not separated."

  The two complied and held fast their hands together. As the fog grew thicker and closer, it seeped in through the windows and doors, eventually filling the room. William, Sam, and Alston closed their eyes as the fog, and silence, overtook them.

  When William opened his eyes, he was not on the island again as he thought might happen. He, Sam, and Alston, were now on a ship in the middle of the night. They could see a little boy and a middle-aged man dressed just like Dominique You standing on the port side, gazing out to the stars.

  12. Theodosia Burr Alston

  Edward opened his eyes and he was free of the fog on his vision and mind. He could see the island in its entirety, an enormous flatland of grass with nothing special, save the mysteriousness. Edward could also see his crew, and others he did not know, scattered about. Some were waking from their trance just as Edward, and others were still in a daze.

  Edward noticed Anne, and he ran to her. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, and she pulled him close.

  "I was so worried," Edward whispered.

  "As was I," Anne replied. Anne parted from Edward, a look of concern in her eyes. "Are you well? What did you see in the fog?"

  Edward shook his head. "It doesn't matter. You?"

  "I feel the same. I am simply glad to be back. We should help the crew," Anne stated, glancing about, and then she noticed the shore. "Edward, Le Pandore and Patriot are gone."

  "What?" Edward shouted, turning to the shore. He could see it with his own eyes: Freedom was still on the beach, but the other ships had vanished at some point. "I will go to Freedom and find out what happened. Could you tend the crew, please?"

  "Yes, of course," Anne replied, then she went to work.

  Edward ran to the Freedom and climbed up a rope ladder to the deck. When he boarded, the crew hastily approached him and bombarded him with questions about his and the others' wellbeing, as well as what happened after the fog caused them to disappear.

  "Please, please, I will answer your inquiries later. I have more urgent matters to attend to." The crew heard his tone and gave him space. Edward approached Herbert at the helm. "What happened to Dominique?"

  Herbert adjusted his glasses. "After the fog overtook you, the Patriot suddenly started attacking Le Pandore, then left shore. Dominique took his crew in search of it. That was an hour or so ago."

  "Damn it, now how are we to find him? He still has the key."

  "Not so." Herbert lifted a key in the air. "Dominique exchanged the key for the paper Benjamin left."

  Edward cocked his brow. "What does he plan on doing with Benjamin's riddle?"

  "Dominique said Alston won't be able to spy on the Americans in our time, so after they took the Patriot back they were planning on following Benjamin's instructions to return to their time and strand Alston here." Herbert tossed the key to Edward. "Should I have stopped him?"

  Edward regarded the key warily. Something about this doesn't feel right. "We'll see, Herbert."

  "So Dominique You told you I am a spy? That could not be further from the truth." A voice sounded from behind Edward.

  Edward turned to see a woman with black hair tied into a bun, standing next to Sam, William, and Henry. "Glad to see you're safe, men. And you must be Theodosia Burr Alston, I presume?"

  "Yes, you presume correctly."

  "So, according to you, what am I to believe?"

  Alston curiously glanced to William, who nodded to her. "I am on a mission to bring medical supplies to soldiers at war with Britain. Dominique wanted my ship, and the medical supplies aboard, not me."

  "Captain," Sam spoke up. "We dunno who this woman is. Ye can't believe what she says."

  Alston had a sad look on her face. "Mister Bellamy, we all saw the same thing back there. Dominique pu—"

  "Shut it, you bitch. I won't have you lie about my father. Ye don't know whut ye saw." Sam lifted his hand to strike Alston, but William stopped him.

  "Captain, I promise you, Alston is telling the truth. She is an honourable person through and through. If what happened to you on that island was anything similar to what we experienced, you will understand why Sam is acting this way." Sam lowered his fist, but appeared angry and dejected.

  Edward considered all that was said, and pondered on how he could solve the riddle of whom he could trust. He smacked the key from Dominique in his hand as he thought, and that was when he had an idea. "Sam, don't let your emotions sway your judgement. We have but one way to prove if he was lying or not." Edward lifted the key up for Sam to see. "Dominique supposedly left us the key we were seeking, so all we have to do is test it out. William, Henry, could you help the crew back to the ship?" William and Henry both nodded and left to complete the order.

  Edward travelled to the gun deck of the ship and used the key on the bow cabin, with Sam following behind. The key rattled in the lock, but nothing happened.

  Sam's anger subsided, but his disappointment was visible on his face. Edward was disappointed as well, as he too wanted to trust the man Sam held faith in.

  Edward and Sam went to the stern of the gun deck, passing all the cannons and spare iron balls, heading to the next locked door, the supposed captain's cabin. Edward attempted to unlock the cabin, but he received the same results. Another nail in the coffin.

  Sam let out a sigh, but waved Edward away when he tried to comfort him.

  The two continued to the berth deck and tried the key once more on the lock at the bow end, but that door would not open either.

  "The key is fake," Edward declared solemnly, turning to Sam.

  Sam was broken. His eyes flitted back and forth, like he was trying to find the pieces of himself to bring back together. "No, we… we jus' have to try again. Why would he give us a fake key? There be no point, Captain. No point."

  Edward shook Sam's shoulders lightly. "Let's ask Dominique why, shall we?"

  Edward turned away from Sam. Sam seemed to still be holding onto the delusion surrounding his father figure, but Edward's mind was made up about the man.

  I know Dominique has the real key! Now he's trying to abscond with it and his precious medicine.

  Edward marched to the main deck and addressed the crew. The ship was now filled with his crew, as well as the unknown men and a few women from the island, presumably from the Patriot. "We are setting sail to chase after Le Pandore, men. Dominique tricked us and left us a false key, but I mean to take the real one from him." If he even has a real key. No! I can't think like that. He must have it. He must.

  The crew was confused at first, but didn't question their leader's guidance and prepared the ship to leave port. Feet stamped quickly across the wooden floorboards and hands stretched the rope ladders as men released the rigging and let loose the sails.

  Alston approached Edward, calm as could be. "So, you trust in my words?"

  "When we catch up to Dominique we will find the truth of the matter. I will reserve judgement until then."

  "I have nothing to fear, my words are true." Alston smiled brightly, with an almost angelic serenity despite the insanity of the situation, her white dress swaying in the wind.

  Sam shuffled to the quarterdeck in a daze, his hands shak
ing, the complete opposite to Alston's calm. "What will we do when we catch up to 'em, Captain?"

  Edward stared Sam in the eyes. "We will make Dominique tell us the reason for his actions, and his answer will determine what we will do."

  "No." Sam shook his head. "No, this isn't right. I won't let you hurt him!" Sam pulled a pistol on Edward Thatch, pointing it straight at his captain's face.

  The crew stopped what they were doing and focused on Sam. The crazed eyes, the pistol drawn. This was unlike the Sam they had known for so long. Gone was the laughter, the blithe attitude towards anything and everything. This wasn't Sam.

  "Sam," Edward said, his hands raised, "lower your pistol."

  "Why the fuck should I?" Sam replied, teeth gritted, pistol shaking. "You 'ad the good life, Thatch. You never been a kid livin' on the streets in England. Starvin' half the time, eatin' rats and stealing the rest. I took my share of beatings. More'n that, I reckon. I was due for fortune or death, either one, n'then Dominique saved us, Captain. Provided a home and a family when none wanted us. What would you know about havin' it bad?"

  Edward slowly lifted his shirt, then pointed to a large misshapen scar on the right of his stomach. "Want to know where I got this, Sam?" Sam didn't reply. "I was a year with my uncle-in-law and his family when this happened. Being me, I was always able to push my uncle-in-law's buttons. My uncle's disposition could have been because of the booze too, but I think he simply wasn't fond of me, because he never beat his own kids, nor his wife. Only me.

  "Henry lent me a toy the day I got this scar. I was so happy I couldn't wait to return home and play with the wooden knight. Heaven forbid I should be happy once in a while after my father left me. When my uncle saw me playing with the toy, it set him off something fierce. He picked me up by the neck and slammed me against the iron furnace. My uncle held me there while I screamed, and didn't release me until my aunt ran in and yelled for him to stop. He stopped, but not for good.