Henry scanned the field, taking a rough count of the people there. "There are about twenty guards here," Henry whispered.
"Sixteen, to be exact."
"The fields are low, which would make it hard to sneak in or out without being seen even at night."
"One small group would be best. Leaving with so many esclaves is a problem. We also have the problem of taking the villagers through town."
"This doesn't appear good."
"Non, it does not."
"Mr Richardson will see you now." The guard who went inside had reappeared without the letter. "I will take you to him."
Henry and Alexandre followed the man into the house. Inside, several guards and more slaves worked. In the centre of the main room, a large set of stairs went up and off to the left and right to the second floor. One of the servants passed through a door to the side of the stairs allowing Alexandre to see into the kitchen where slaves were working at preparing food. In the kitchen, he could see a door leading to the slaves' quarters.
The guard led them up the stairs to the second floor. On the far end, a lavish love seat and chairs were set in front of a fireplace. Along the sides, more closed doors led to various rooms.
The guard opened the first door to the right of the fireplace and beckoned Henry and Alexandre to enter. After the two entered, the guard closed the door.
The room they entered was a large and spacious study with tall bookshelves and ornamental relics, possibly from some ancient tomb. A mediaeval set of plate mail, swords, an Egyptian urn, a stone bird, and several animal heads plastered the walls like trophies. The fireplace from the previous room was mirrored into the study, with a small table holding expensive drinks between two high-backed chairs. At the back was a desk with several chairs in front and one behind. Large windows on the back wall allowed light in and provided a stunning view of the road leading up to the mansion. In the centre of the wall, above the desk and chairs, a key hung in a picture frame.
"Come on in and sit down, gentlemen. We have much to discuss," Daniel Richardson said, standing at the desk. His accent was a southern drawl, not native to Boston.
Henry and Alexandre sat down in the chairs offered. Richardson was still eyeing the letter as he sat down in his seat, a soft metallic click sounding under the desk when he moved his feet.
Richardson was an older man with salt-and-pepper hair slicked back. He had a greying beard on his full face, and the plump aspect of a man used to wealth and having others do the hard work for him. He was wearing a black and red suit with his coat draped over the back of the chair because of the heat.
Henry could smell cigar and wood ash in the air, as well as warm alcohol. The smell of fur and raw poultry also came from the many animal heads adorning the walls.
"Would any of you fine gents care for a drink. Ah have some fine whiskey if ya'll 'er interested." Henry and Alexandre both declined. Richardson peered at the letter once more with a smile. "Ah never thought ah would see this again, boy. Been a few years since ah stumbled across that island. Took some doin' to reach the top, and what do ah get for the trouble? A key." Richardson laughed. "Boy, at first ah was mighty angry, but curiosity has a way of increasin' over time. Ah never was able to find out what the key was fer, nor who left it there. Ah am sure interested if you fellers have any information you can provide."
Henry took the lead. "I believe our story may be rather disappointing to you. I was sold a ship by a magnanimous trickster who left clues as to where to find the keys for specific sections of the ship. The island you found was built specifically for his game, and the key is the next one in the line. Without the key, I have a fraction of a ship."
Richardson laughed heartily. "How positively fascinating, to find intrepid adventurers such as myself. My boy, you remind me of myself in my youth."
Henry glanced at Alexandre awkwardly. "Yes, well, as you can see we need the key so we can continue with our journey. We are willing to pay you for your troubles."
Richardson raised his hand. "I am sorry, my boy, but I simply cannot part with the key. The years have made me attached inexplicably and inexorably to the key. I will, however, purchase your ship from you for a more than generous price and you can be assured she will be in good hands."
Henry's mouth hung open. "I'm sorry, but we are in similar sorts. I cannot part with the ship. We have been at this for years now, and the ship means so much more to the whole crew, not just myself."
Richardson stopped smiling. He didn't seem the type used to being denied something. "Then, no amount of money will change your mind?"
"No. I ask you the same."
"No," Richardson replied with a sigh. "Such a disappointment. Well, gentlemen, if you'll excuse me, I have other business I must attend to."
Alexandre finally took the helm. "There is another afaire which you may be more amicable towards. A slave named Nassir may be in your possession, or previously has been, who is actually a free man and our crewmate. We are searching for him to bring him back into our fold."
Richardson laughed. "Your French friend is rather funny. I do have a slave with a savage name of Nassir, but all my slaves are slaves, and as such they cannot be free men. You realise the flaw in your logic?"
"We are not lying," Henry replied, growing more frustrated.
"Produce his papers of freedom and I will have no choice but to comply. No papers, no nigger."
"How much to part with him?"
Richardson smirked, knowing he held all the cards. "I refuse. My slaves are all so precious to me. I cannot spare a single one."
Alexandre stood. "Expect a summons to a court of law soon. We will have our crewmate back one way or another."
"I shall await with anticipation."
Alexandre left the mansion with Henry following closely behind, albeit with a misstep due to confusion. Henry and Alexandre entered the coach and headed back to the ship.
"What was that?" Henry asked.
"That will buy us time to steal the key and formulate a proper plan to save Nassir and the villageois."
"How do you expect to prove Nassir's freedom without papers?"
"Depending on certain factors, we may be able to win, but it is a ploy. The rest is up to le Capitaine and what he wants to do."
Henry sighed. "I hope you know what you're doing."
"Always," Alexandre replied.
21. Bait & Trap
"So he lives on the outskirts of town in the middle of a field, and has over twenty guards?" Edward asked. Henry and Alexandre nodded. "How will we free them?" Edward questioned, frustrated.
"You're giving up?" Anne asked, anger seeping through.
"I don't see any way we can save Nassir and all those villagers. If we cause any trouble, there are a multitude of warships here which can best us. We can't kill the guards without a protracted battle, and before the crew arrives we'll be found out by locals because of the numbers."
"But there must be a way," Christina pleaded. "What if we spread out, small groups of people all heading to the mansion, then we strike at once?"
Edward shook his head, running his hand through his wavy black hair. "No, Boston has a local garrison, not an unorganised militia. We would be outed well before we reached the edge of the city. Barring that, we wouldn't be able to escape for the same reason."
"Then what do you suggest?" Anne asked.
Edward considered all the eyes on him. The senior officers were staring at him, expecting an epiphany of a brilliant plan from Edward like in the past. Edward sighed. "I'm sorry, I don't know what we can do. For now, I will sneak into Richardson's mansion and spirit the key away. Then we can confer with Nassir if he has any ideas on how to escape with his people. Sam, can I count on your help with this?"
Sam nodded. "Aye Capt'n."
"Henry, you mentioned the best way to enter was through the slave quarters, and the key was in a room on the second floor."
Henry nodded. "Yes, the key is inside a picture frame on the wall. He keep
s a lot of trophies in the room, and the key is one of his accomplishments."
Alexandre laughed, drawing all eyes to him. "Something to share Alexandre?" Edward asked.
"Oh, nothing of importance. Just, if you steal that key you will be taking a faux."
A foe…? Ah, Fake. "The key is a fake?"
"He has a lockbox under his desk with the real key inside."
Henry's jaw dropped once more. "How do you know?"
"He shuffled in his seat and tapped his foot against something metal. The sound was faint, but easy to hear if you were paying attention."
Henry folded his arms. "So what makes you think the key is in the lockbox? You weren't able to see inside."
"You said yourself, the man has trophées of his accomplishments. Do you think finding the key was an accomplishment? He was never able to find what lock the key was for. Non, the picture frame is not a trophée, it is a reminder."
Edward shrugged. "A nice theory, but I don't think the game is won yet. We'll test your theory later. We take both. Alexandre, please draw us a floor plan of the mansion so we can work out a plan to sneak inside. When is the court battle to start?"
"Tomorrow. Richardson is a prominent businessman, so the magistrate is speeding things along for him," Henry responded.
Edward rubbed his face in equal parts frustration and exhaustion. "Well, I guess we also have to deal with preferential treatment. Excellent."
Anne held Edward's hand in support. "But what about the villagers?"
"I don't know, I can only focus on one thing at a time. We need to trick Richardson somehow, but I don't know how. I will think of something in time."
The crew left Edward alone, but he wasn't able to formulate a plan. Alexandre was cryptic as usual, and more interested in seeing what Edward could create rather than suggesting a plan. Damn Frenchman probably doesn't know any way we can save everyone anyway.
The next day, Alexandre and Henry both went to the office of the local magistrate who was to see them and Richardson together. Richardson brought Nassir along with him. The office itself was a medium-sized room with small bookshelves and a desk. The four sat in chairs in front of the magistrate's desk.
The portly magistrate wore an expensive coat and a powdered wig atop his head in the English style. "Make your claim, gentlemen," he demanded coldly. The smell of alcohol wafted from his breath.
"This man, Nassir, has been wrongfully taken into slavery. He has already served once before and was freed," Alexandre stated.
"Produce his papers of freedom and let this be done then."
Alexandre glanced at Henry and then Nassir. "We can produce them, but we have not had occasion to discuss their whereabouts with Nassir."
The magistrate sighed. "Then go into the next room and discuss. And be quick about it."
Alexandre, Henry, and Nassir rose and entered the room to the right of the magistrate's office.
"I must say, friends, I did not expect to see you today. Thank you for trying to help me," Nassir said in his thick accent.
"You're our family, there's no way we wouldn't come for you. Edward wishes he could be here, but it's safer for us all if he's not."
"I understand."
"Focus, messieurs. Nassir, your brother believes your proof of freedom was burned in the attack on your village. Please tell us this is not so."
"My papers were on my person… until Richardson destroyed them."
"Excellent. Now what?" Henry lamented.
"This is simple, we make a forgery. Do you remember the name of the man who freed you?" Alexandre asked.
"David Cooper was the issuer of the papers."
Alexandre pulled out a piece of paper and pencil. "Do you remember the papers enough to provide his signature?"
Nassir took the paper and pencil in hand. "I stared at those papers every night for five years after I was freed. I can provide the entire wording."
Richardson and the magistrate were laughing and hitting it off. Henry and Alexandre eyed each other with worried expressions.
"We do not have the time, the signature will do. Alexandre will finish the rest," Henry said.
Once Nassir finished the signature, Alexandre pocketed the paper. "What about my people?" Nassir asked.
"We are focusing on trying to free you, and Edward is working on a plan to free the villagers, but you must understand the difficulty," Henry replied.
"I will trust in him then."
Henry and Alexandre both nodded to Nassir and they returned to the other room. "We know where the papers are and will retrieve them for you post haste," Henry told the magistrate.
"Yes, yes. We will reconvene tomorrow." The magistrate and Richardson each poured a glass of brandy and continued talking with each other as if they were the only ones in the room.
Henry and Alexandre glanced at Nassir one last time, as he had to stay with his master. Despair was written on his face, but his eyes held a glint of hope.
"Do you think the forgery will work?" Henry asked in a whisper outside the magistrate's office.
"It is not a question of whether it will or will not, but whether the magistrate will let it work. I fear the man may be corrompu. Daniel and the magistrate seem to be amis. Perhaps his rise to his current position was not done entirely honestly."
"So, what we do will not help?"
"Non, I did not say that. This is merely to serve as a distraction from the real plan. Le Capitaine will provide the means for all to escape."
"Assuming he's up to the task."
"You have doutes?"
"Let's just say my faith in Edward has been shaky of late."
Alexandre nodded. "Yes, I have noticed. He will come through in the end. He always does."
"What makes you so sure?"
Henry saw something rare: a light deep in Alexandre's normally dull eyes. "I'm not."
…
In the dead silence of night, two figures stalked through the town of Boston and the forest of chestnut trees on the outskirts. They moved silently, but with purpose. Their destination was a cotton plantation owned by a certain Daniel Richardson.
Edward and Sam ran through the woods and travelled light, carrying no weapons aside from knives and a blow gun with darts provided by Alexandre. The moon was full and shining brightly through the slender leaves above them. The wind was cool and breezy so close to the coast, and brought the smell of fresh chestnuts and grass to their nostrils.
As the two reached the western edge of the forest they slowed down to catch their breath and move with more stealth. Edward and Sam both hid behind the trees as they moved forward, seeing if the coast was clear and then motioning to the other to move forward. When they finally reached the edge they ducked down and hid behind a large tree together.
In front of them they could see the large mansion with adjoining quarters for the slaves along with the large cotton field surrounding the building.
Edward examined the location. "This is the mansion, exactly as described."
Edward could see guards with lanterns walking around the property, though none were close to the forest. The guards appeared more vigilant than they normally would be, which did not bode well in Edward's mind. Henry and Alexandre must have spooked him.
"So are we gonna kill these wankers or what?" Sam whispered.
"No, we'll use these darts Alexandre provided. According to him they will knock someone out and leave them with particularly bad aches in the morning."
"Blimey. How does the Frenchman create these things?"
"Alexandre said he had an epiphany when thinking about the gas the surgeon in Winchester used. The gas reminded him of a plant some natives used to help them sleep on one of his treks around the world. He kept some with him and dried the leaves. Somehow he made this from the leaves."
Sam shook his head. "What about when they fall? And what about the other guards?" Sam asked as he motioned to the three on patrol.
"Sneak up and catch them as they fall. I'll attack t
he two on the left, you attack the one on the right."
Edward and Sam went their separate ways after dividing the darts. Edward moved to the left to a row of the cotton which led behind one of the guards. The guard was standing still and scanning the field with a lantern to aid him. Edward dropped to the ground and crawled into the field of cotton.
Edward crawled between bushes of cotton shrubs, trying to make as little noise as possible. The guard was staring in Sam's direction. Edward crawled forward slowly, inching closer and closer. The guard turned around and walked towards Edward who moved closer to the shrubs and lay motionless.
The smell of the cotton mixed with alcohol as the guard approached. Edward turned his head to watch the approach of the patrolling man. His nose passed over a cotton bulb. Edward's nose itched and he felt an urge to sneeze. The guard was nearly on top of Edward. He took out his blowdart and shot the man with a dart in the neck. Before the guard recognised what was happening, he fell. Edward caught him and let him fall gently to the ground as he let out a sneeze.
The other guards turned to the noise. Edward picked up the lantern and waved. The guards returned to their lookout. Edward allowed himself to breathe again as he wiped his nose.
He moved forward, lantern in hand. The two guards didn't notice anything wrong. Edward moved towards his second target closest to the slaves' quarters. The slightest noise came from the right. Edward and the guard's eyes flashed over, and the man waved back.
Sam must have made his move.
Edward stalked over to finish the trifecta so they could move on. When Edward advanced, the guard waved to him. Edward lowered his lantern so his face was not illuminated.
"See anything, Gary? I don't see nothin' over here. I think the boss is jus' spooked."
Edward shot a dart at the man's neck. The man grunted and his hand moved to the dart. He pulled out the dart and had enough time to focus on the needle before he fell. Edward ran over and caught him so he could let him fall gently to the ground without another sound.
Sam rushed to Edward. Edward had another dart ready just in case. "Sam?"
Blackbeard's Revenge (Voyages Of Queen Anne's Revenge Book 2) Page 23
