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

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Blackbeard's Revenge (Voyages Of Queen Anne's Revenge Book 2) Page 26

by Jeremy McLean


  The other crewmates delivered similar strange tales of Alexandre occupying himself by prodding each room to no end. Separately, the stories show how odd the Frenchman is, but together the action painted a picture of a man deducing what each locked room contained inside via process of elimination.

  "Alright, so how did Alexandre know the key we received was meant for this door?" Henry asked this time.

  "I can tell you that one," Edward replied. "The last two rooms are on this floor at opposite ends. It's a safe bet to think the room at the stern is the captain's cabin, as that is similar to other ships of this rate. The architect of this game would no doubt keep the purpose of each room in mind when thinking about which key we should get next. Benjamin wanted us to survive without cannons for a time, as a test, so they were unlocked second, and after we recover the last key the ship is officially mine. Technically I'm not captain until then, so the captain's cabin should be unlocked with the final key. Alexandre knew that, thus his confidence in knowing the key would unlock this door.

  Alexandre emerged from the room, his clothes dyed red in spots. "Excellent deduction, mon Capitaine." Everyone stood and stared at Alexandre expectantly. "Victor will live."

  Instead of a sigh of relief, the name was met with confusion. "Who's Victor?" Edward asked, curiosity written on his face.

  Alexandre rubbed his eyes. "Victor has been with us from the début. Since Port Royal."

  Edward shrugged, still not recollecting. Alexandre sighed.

  Anne's face lit with recognition. "Oh! I remember I had a rather short conversation with Victor once, long ago."

  Edward turned to Anne. "Only once?"

  "Yes, as I recall he was shy and not very talkative. Perhaps that's why you're unable to recall Victor?"

  "I assumed I talked with every crewman aboard at least a few times. Can we see him? I may be able to remember if I see his face." Edward attempted to enter the surgeon's room.

  Alexandre blocked the way. "Non!" he commanded. "The patient is resting." Alexandre handed a piece of paper to Edward. "Here, play with this. You will need time for this one."

  Edward took the paper, the next clue from Benjamin Hornigold. The last clue, leading to the last key for the Freedom. Edward was about to open and read it when he stopped himself.

  "Wait, you're saying you figured out the clue already?"

  "Yes, I read the riddle quickly before performing surgery and discovered the solution during. It was all very fascinating. Now leave," Alexandre ordered, pointing to the stairs.

  Edward pocketed the paper and headed up to the main deck. "You won't read the clue?" Anne asked.

  "I think we should wait until we finish what we set out to do first. Once we return the villagers to NiTalaa and find out if Nassir will rejoin us, then we can worry about the next key."

  "These riddles take some time to solve. Are you sure we shouldn't start work on it sooner?" Anne asked.

  Edward glanced back and forth to make sure no one was listening. "The crew needs a little rest after all the running around we've been doing. This is for the final key, and it will no doubt be the hardest trial we've faced. That means that there's potential some could lose their lives. If we have an excuse to stave that off for the time being, I'll take it."

  Anne nodded, but wondered to herself if it was for the crew's sake or his own that he wanted to put off the riddle.

  When Edward and Anne returned to the main deck, the crew brought Richardson over to the Freedom via a gangplank. "What do you want us to do with 'im?" Sam asked.

  "Take him to the brig. We'll deal with him later," Edward replied.

  Anne and Edward watched as the crew took Richardson below deck. "I cannot believe I had to act as my mother for Richardson to go along with the plan. I never want to do that again," Anne lamented with folded arms.

  "The crux of the plan was convincing Richardson he had a chance to take the Freedom for himself," Edward said as he pulled Anne close and rubbed her arm. "Besides, I heard your acting was impeccable. That he was fooled is all that matters."

  "Yes, I am happy this worked well." Anne carried a troubled air about her, despite the success of their plan.

  "What's wrong?"

  "I was thinking about something Richardson mentioned. My mother suffered a loss recently, but he didn't mention what kind. I worry one of my family members might have died."

  "We've been travelling much, so news of the world is scarce. There's also a bounty on my head we didn't know about."

  "A bounty changes nothing."

  "Yes, we're still pirates so there's always people after us." Edward faced Anne and held her by the arms. "Don't worry about what Richardson said. You have us now, remember?"

  Anne gazed deep into Edward's dark eyes. "I know, Edward. I'll be fine." Edward pulled Anne close and hugged her. Despite what Anne claimed, Edward could tell she was still holding back her true feelings.

  …

  Back in the locked surgeon's cabin, Alexandre was sitting in a chair in the corner of the room. He was meditating as he waited for the patient he'd operated on to regain consciousness.

  The reason Alexandre was so adamant that none see his patient, the shy and reserved Victor, was because Victor was not who he appeared to be. The "he" was actually a "she." Victor was the third woman who had hidden her appearance aboard the Freedom from Port Royal, and she was the best at hiding her true nature by far. Alexandre had had a hard time discovering the secret as she possessed an uncanny ability to be transparent in a crowd.

  'Victor' awoke with a start, sitting up straight on the raised operating table. She wore a thin white tunic stained in blood. She had short-cropped black hair and black eyes with a thin face and small nose. Her lithe body bespoke her agility and natural fitness. Her eyes flitted left and right quickly like a bird with purpose.

  Alexandre noticed the change and slowly opened his eyes. "So you have finally awoken. You should rest more, ma chére. You are in no shape to be moving."

  "What happened?" the patient asked. Her voice carried a hint of a Greek accent.

  "After you dove for the key, you fell unconscious. I revived you, then forced you to sleep again so I could perform chirurgie on you."

  Victor looked daggers at Alexandre, but he was unfazed. "What kind of surgery?"

  "A bullet was lodged in your stomach. I noticed weeks ago in our last battle, and you were hiding the pain ever since. If the bullet was left, you could have died. I was planning on knocking you unconscious, but this provided ample opportunity."

  Victor examined the remnants of the operation on her stomach. A blood-soaked bandage covered her abdomen.

  "I need to change the bandages once more." Alexandre pushed her down to the table gently. Victor grabbed his arm in a vice grip, but after peering into his eyes she let go and lay down. Alexandre grabbed cotton gauze from one of the many cabinets and prepared it. "So, would you have me call you Victor, or will you tell me your true name?"

  "Victoria Theriault. You may call me Tori if we are being so intimate."

  Alexandre smirked as he removed the old bandages. "You should know by now you cannot lie to me. Victoria is not your prénom."

  Tori winced as the bandage was taken off. "My given name is not a name I wish to be called. Victoria is the name I chose for myself, and what I will be called."

  "Victoria, then." Alexandre dabbed the gauze over the stitching, soaking up the remaining blood first. "Are you not going to ask how I knew you were a woman, or how I knew about the bullet?"

  "Why bother? Five times you stopped others from discovering I was a woman. Noticing my pain would be simple."

  Alexandre grinned as he wrapped the new gauze around Victoria's stomach. "Six times now. And if you are observant enough to notice, then you must know I will eventually uncover where you are from and why you insist on staying aboard this ship. Tell me now and save us the difficulté."

  This time, Victoria smiled deviously. "Perhaps you are getting ahead of yourself, su
rgeon. Only one who doesn't believe they can win would try to force another's hand with sly words."

  Alexandre felt an excitement welling inside him like never before. "To finally meet another whose intellect may match my own is… nice. I will enjoy playing this game."

  Victoria stood, dressed and adopted the mannerisms of a man again. Soon she was indistinguishable from the 'Victor' she claimed to be. "You will lose." Victoria said, a glint in her eyes.

  It would take two months to return to Nassir's homeland. During that time Nassir and the other shipmates remodelled the cargo ship and until it was a remnant of its former self. The interior was opened like a proper ship, and could transport real cargo. With the addition of cannons, the villagers could also turn the it into a decent-sized warship.

  The crew of the Freedom did the best they could to teach the villagers how to sail a ship during that time.

  Nassir reunited with the Freedom's crew and heard about all the adventures since he left. He was particularly interested and concerned for Christina. The story of how Christina acquired her 'pet' was particularly disturbing to Nassir, but Christina assuaged him by telling of how Tala was instrumental in saving Anne's life.

  The Calabarians also discussed what would be done with Daniel Richardson. Edward expected Richardson would be sentenced to death, but they decided to judge him upon returning to the village. The return to their families would be celebrated with the death of a slaver.

  Christina pushed for Richardson to die immediately, but after talking with Nassir she backed down. Her anger towards the slaver festered and grew during the travel, but she stayed her hand for Nassir's sake.

  Anne, however, had questions that needed to be answered before his death. Late one night she left the bed she and Edward shared and entered the brig not two feet away. Richardson was sleeping, but Anne prodded his feet with a sword to wake him.

  "Oh, the Queen Anne impersonator is here. Come to gloat?" Richardson spat.

  "No, you have information I need."

  "And what would you want to know from me?" Richardson asked, still lying down with a face of utter indifference.

  Anne toyed with the heir apparent ring now on a chain between her breasts. "During our conversation, you mentioned some loss the Queen suffered. A personal tragedy?"

  "What of it?"

  "What was the loss she had?"

  Richardson cocked his brow and considered Anne more closely than before. His eyes moved to the ring Anne was touching, then to her face. Anne's remarkable face, so similar in appearance, and the ring, so perfect a forgery if there could be one.

  "Who are…?" Richardson's eyes widened with shock and then he began laughing. "Oh, this is rich. Why, you're the Queen's daughter. But that would mean…" Richardson laughed again.

  "What's so funny?" Anne seethed through gritted teeth.

  "Ho-ho, I'll never tell, this is too precious, my dear. I know I am heading to my grave, so there is nothing you can do to pry the information from my lips. I must say, though, your family is certainly a piece of work." Richardson laughed all the harder.

  Anne, her anger swelling with nowhere to go, left the brig and closed the door hard. The laugh could still be heard through the wooden wall between her and Richardson.

  …

  The hot sun was high in the sky as the crew of the Freedom landed at the shores of Calabar along with the former slave ship. The Freedom once more bore its name on the side, and no longer the name Diamond. The two ships were met with unprecedented joy upon landing.

  The villagers of Calabar stood at the harbour and cheered as the ships docked. The men helped bring the ships in and tied them to the dock as the crews set gangplanks down.

  Wives and husbands, mothers and sons were reunited with joyful tears and embraces.

  Nassir and Edward descended together, with Nassir's brother, Dumaka, rushing forward to embrace his kin. After he had a moment with his brother, Dumaka embraced Edward as well.

  "Thank you, you saved my brother and my people. I will forever be in your debt."

  "I do not deserve your gratitude. Your brother came up with the plan when I was caught by Richardson."

  "As I understand, you and your crew were instrumental in putting forth that plan. Without you this could not have happened."

  "Saving Nassir and recovering the key for my ship was part of the reason for helping. I was being selfish."

  Dumaka sighed. "And through your selfishness you brought joy to all these faces. A good deed is a good deed, regardless of why or how the act was initiated. Be humble elsewhere and accept our gratitude." Dumaka took Edward's hand and raised it in the air. "People of Calabar, this is the man who gave our people freedom again: Edward Thatch!"

  The villagers of Calabar cheered for EdwarYd and the crew of the Freedom. As Dumaka pulled Edward through the throng, the villagers embraced him, shook his hand and kissed him in thanks for his actions. The same gratitude was showered upon the crew of the Freedom as they disembarked and walked to the centre of the village.

  The people held a feast in honour of their heroes, and their loved ones' return. After the feast, and after a few hours of song and dance, Richardson was brought from the brig and to the centre of the village. As he was pushed forward, the villagers shouted insults and spat on him, but he did not flinch once.

  Richardson was brought in front a fire pit with Edward, Nassir, and Dumaka standing before him. "You are brought before us so we may have justice for the pain you caused our brothers and sisters. For your crimes, we sentence you to death."

  "What a crock of shit. You sentence me to death? You niggers don't have rights," Richardson yelled. Edward took out his golden cutlass and handed it to Dumaka. "You were meant to serve our superior race from the beginning of time!" Dumaka tested the heft of the blade, nodding in admiration. "I was affording you greater purpose than your former, miserable lives. You are merely dogs, and dogs are nothing without masters!"

  Dumaka fixed the blade at Richardson's neck. "You are no one's master." Dumaka pulled the blade back and cleaved Richardson's head from his body in one stroke. The head and body fell to the ground with a thump, the blood spurting from the stumps left behind.

  Dumaka turned his back on the body and lifted his arms in the air, the golden blade in one hand. The people of the village and the crew of the Freedom cheered as one. The people of Calabar would never let another take their freedom away.

  24. The Island of Heaven & Hell

  "Take care of my brother," Dumaka said.

  "I will," Edward assured him as he held out his hand.

  Dumaka shook Edward's hand and embraced him before saying a few words to and then embracing his brother.

  Nassir walked over to Edward. "Ready?" Edward asked.

  "Yes, it is time we leave," Nassir said.

  Together, Nassir and Edward boarded the Freedom. The crew waved to the villagers as they shoved off and let loose the sails. They continued to wave and holler until the villagers were completely out of sight. Two months' travel had created a strong bond between the crew and the Calabarians, one which would not be broken.

  As Freedom sailed across the ocean, Edward focused on the paper left in the surgeon's room, the final clue to the location of the last key. That piece of paper meant the journey was almost at an end. Edward sat at of a table at the quarterdeck with Herbert nearby at the helm.

  "Are you simply going to stare at the paper, or will you read it?"

  Edward returned to reality to see Jack sitting beside him at the small table. Edward chuckled at the comment. "I was thinking on how far we've come because of these little clues. Hard to believe this will soon be over."

  Jack pulled out his violin, set his feet on the table, and played a light tune. "This has been quite the adventure. I've been on the sidelines, but I believe it has afforded me perspective."

  Edward joined Jack in his relaxation, placing his feet on the table as well. "And what has your perspective allowed you to see?"

&nbs
p; Jack closed his eyes as he pondered the question. "I've seen brave men and women die in battle and against deathly traps. I've relived tragedy through the eyes of a father. I witnessed a journey across the world, and a boy accused of being a pirate become a man in a short time." Edward smiled. "But, most importantly, I think, I saw a group of wayward vagabonds and lost souls brought together by that man and made into a family."

  Edward was moved by Jack's words and his violin. "You have quite the way with words, Jack. You've almost made a song out of our adventure."

  "I considered writing one, and I may after we are done. The journey may be more important than the ending, but there is no song which never ends."

  "Then let us move towards that end." Edward opened the paper up to read the clue.

  At the point between Heaven and Hell

  In the palm of God's left and right hands.

  An island of duality sits.

  Two crews follow two paths.

  At the centre lies the final trial of man.

  Edward pondered about the clue for a few moments while Jack read. "The clue seems very simple to me."

  Jack handed the paper back after reading. "What do you propose?"

  Edward folded his arms. "Well, Heaven and Hell are often depicted as being above and below, and since we are seeking an island this would mean north and south. The point between north and south is the equator."

  "Yes, that makes sense. What of the left and right hands? East and west?"

  "That would only be logical given the first part. The right hand of God often symbolises a position of honour and distinction. The holy land, Jerusalem, lies to the east, and the New World to the west. I believe the island lies between the New World and the Old."

  Jack smiled as he switched the tune to a faster tempo. "You know a lot about the Bible for one who claims to not know anything about God."

  "My father taught me a few things when I was younger, but after he disappeared I stopped studying. I have a hard time believing in God."

 

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