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

by Jeremy McLean

  "Capt'n! Lookit over there," one of the crewmen exclaimed, pointing to the island of Badabos.

  Edward peered in the direction the man was pointing. He was viewing the small cliff he and Christina were on earlier, and he could see two figures moving towards it. Are they fighting? "Somebody bring me a spyglass," Edward commanded, and one of the men obliged. Edward gazed through the spyglass and was able to see the scene on the cliff. Pukuh and Plague were still fighting. Edward's heart sank. Pukuh is losing. The thought shocked Edward. The assassin was more skilled than Edward's best.

  "Is everyone back from the shore?" Edward asked, to which one of the crewmen answered yes. "Set sail! Head to that cliff," Edward commanded as he ran to Christina and knelt down next to Herbert. "Herbert, I need you at the helm. I can take care of Christina."

  "Just as how you took care of her before?" Herbert snapped, tears in his eyes.

  "Christina will survive, but Pukuh may not! I need you on the helm, no one else can navigate the shoals." Edward stared Herbert in the eyes.

  After a moment the ship was pushed off of the beach and the sails were lowered. Herbert nodded and headed back to the quarterdeck. Nassir helped Herbert to the helm. Edward dabbed at Christina's wound. Despite the pain of the needle, Christina hadn't been roused.

  Could the blade have been poisoned as well? Edward shook his head. Alexandre would have noticed. It must be blood loss.

  Anne and William ran up to the main deck and over to Edward and Christina. "Did the assassin do this?" Anne asked.

  "Yes, but Christina's wound is stitched, it's up to her will now," Edward said, holding the cloth tight.

  Anne knelt down next to Edward, examining Christina's body. "She is strong, she will be fine."

  Edward gazed into those green eyes, the ones which filled him with strength when he felt all was lost, and nodded. "Can you take over? There's one more person we need to save."

  Anne took the cloth from Edward as she rose to her feet. "Whom?" Anne asked.

  "Pukuh," Edward replied, glancing at the two-hundred-foot cliff approaching. "Someone grab a spare sail from the hold, quickly!" he shouted, slashing his hand through the air to emphasise the urgency.

  Several of the crew went below deck to follow the order. Herbert was shouting orders to trim and furl several sails to slow the ship in the shoal.

  Edward watched the fight between the man known as Plague and Pukuh as it progressed further and further towards the small cliff. The Mayan didn't glance to the side, but Edward could tell he saw the ship.

  "Don't slow down!" Edward yelled to Herbert.

  Herbert leaned over. "What?" he asked, confused.

  "If we slow down, the assassin will jump aboard. We need to speed up so only Pukuh has enough time to jump on."

  "How will he know what to do?" Herbert shouted back.

  "He'll know."

  Herbert shook his head. "Lower the sails. Close-haul to the wind as best you can, men!"

  The men who went below returned with a spare sail rolled up and held under their arms. "Up to the poop deck. Pull the sail taut so Pukuh can jump onto it," Edward commanded.

  Edward and the crewmen unfurled the sail and pulled it tight in a circle on the poop deck. The crew watched the cliff side as the ship passed under, picking up speed. This is your chance, Pukuh, jump. The waist of the ship was passing under the cliff. Jump, Pukuh, jump! The stern approached, and the men with the sail were staring straight up. Now Pukuh!

  Suddenly, a body flew off the edge of the cliff. Nearly two hundred feet the man fell and landed neatly onto the cloth sail, which broke his fall.

  Plague! "Crew, attack!" Edward commanded.

  Some of the crew drew knives and swords while others ran to grab weapons as quickly as possible. None were prepared for a fight so suddenly.

  Edward saw another man jump off the edge of the cliff from the corner of his eye. Pukuh!

  Pukuh fell towards the ship. He had a dagger in his left hand, and he was holding it outstretched. Pukuh thrust the dagger into the aft sail as he fell into it. The sail broke his fall, and the dagger cutting through the thick canvas slowed him until he was halfway down. Pukuh's grip was lost and he fell to the deck in a heap.

  The crew attacked the assassin known as Plague with full intent to kill, but Plague was holding his own. Whether it was shots from pistols and muskets, or slashes from swords and daggers, even simultaneous attacks, he seemed to avoid them even if by the skin of his teeth.

  Plague was adept at using each opportunity to his advantage. When he was about to be shot, he pulled a crewman trying to attack him with a sword in close to use as a shield. When he was being attacked by multiple people in close quarters he manoeuvred them around so their own attacks threatened each other.

  Edward ran over and knelt down next to the Mayan. "Pukuh, are you well? Can you stand?"

  Pukuh was breathing heavily, and one eye was closed in pain. His right arm was limp at his side, and at first Edward thought the arm broken, but the reality was far worse. The Mayan's arm was turning black. Pukuh's hand and half his forearm was overtaken by the devil creeping up it.

  Pukuh kept his eyes on Plague. "That man is a demon. One lapse in concentration invites misery."

  Edward stared at the man called a demon by the God of Death. The crew was cautious in attacking now that they knew how capable their target was. Plague used the break to search the ship for something, or someone, but his search seemed to be fruitless.

  Who is he searching for? I'm sure he heard me say his name. Am I not his target?

  Before Edward's question could be answered, Plague was hit with a kick to the chest, sending him back a few steps. William appeared out of nowhere in front of Plague on the cloth sail.

  Plague smiled genuinely. "Why, if it isn't William, the Arcing Light himself. I haven't seen you in ages. Not since your disgraceful failure to protect your King. Oh, wait, I mean to say when you betrayed the Crown and killed him. Yes, that was the story… Perhaps I said too much." Plague shrugged.

  William's normal facade of calm indifference faded and was replaced with fury. "Edward! Your sword, if you please."

  Edward glanced from Plague back to William. Plague wouldn't let his eyes leave William for a second. Edward took out his cutlass and tossed the shining gold sword to William, who caught the blade in the air, not letting his gaze leave the assassin.

  "I have been waiting for this day for seven years. No one interfere! This is my fight!" William said.

  "Best make it count then, my boy."

  The two warriors circled each other, with all eyes on them. William's knees were bent and he held the cutlass close with one arm braced behind the blunt edge. Plague held two knives, one high and one low, while he stalked the small battleground like a lion out for prey.

  William moved first, and Plague joined him. The two warriors danced on the Freedom's deck. The two men were evenly matched, and the only sound was the occasional stamp of a foot on the wooden deck or a scraping of metal as they dodged, ducked, and deflected the other's strikes. To those watching, the fight was like a choreographed play.

  Edward and Pukuh observed the battle with wide eyes. Edward, at the close angle he was, had difficulty keeping track of the two men. "William will not last. We must remove this man from the Freedom or he will destroy us all," Pukuh whispered.

  Edward glanced over to Pukuh. The man was holding his right arm, the Black Death still crawling steadily up to his elbow. Edward carefully concentrated on the two fighters in front of him and waited for an opportunity.

  William's and Plague's blades flashed as they swung them through the air. William took a wide swing horizontally. Plague ducked down, then jumped up and slashed at William horizontally. William leaned back to avoid the blade then thrust the golden blade forward. Plague jumped back, almost to the edge of the ship.

  Edward saw movement in his peripheral vision on the waist of the ship. Christina was still lying there, and beside her stood Tala. Edw
ard knew what he needed to do.

  "Tala!" Edward called. "Épaule!" he yelled, pointing to Plague.

  Tala rushed up the steps and leapt at the assassin. Plague was so focused on William, the wolf caught him completely off guard. Tala bit down on Plague's shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

  "Tala, courir!" Edward commanded as he rushed towards Plague. Tala released her prey and ran away. Edward slammed into Plague's chest with his shoulder. The assassin was sent flying backwards. He hit the aft railing and flipped overboard into the water, hitting with a splash and sinking below the surface. Bubbles rose from where he fell in.

  "Men, fire at will!" Edward shouted.

  The crew ran to the aft railing and fired into the water. The dozen cracks and snaps from the pistols and muskets sounded out, and the bullets popped into the sea where Plague had fallen.

  The ship was still moving forward, but the crew continued to fire where they thought Plague landed until they were out of range.

  Edward searched the sea, then the aft of the ship in case Plague was hanging onto the back, but he couldn't see him anywhere.

  "Captain, look!" A crewman yelled, pointing to the water a couple of hundred feet away.

  Plague was treading water, seemingly unharmed. He had swum out of harm's way as soon as he fell into the water. Plague stared at the Freedom as she left the island of Badabos far behind.

  26. The Break

  "William, you must cut off my arm!" Pukuh yelled.

  Pukuh was kneeling and holding his right arm extended. The black disease was still silently creeping past his elbow and up his bicep. The progression of the poison Plague had hit him with was rapid, to say the least. Pukuh had trouble keeping his arm steady in the air.

  "Someone bring Alexandre!" Edward commanded. Edward knelt down beside Pukuh. "Pukuh, there's no need to go to such lengths. Alexandre will cure you."

  "He will not. The poison is spreading too quickly. Do it, William," Pukuh said forcefully; sweat coated his tan face, dripped off his brow, and fell to the wood deck.

  William bent his knees and held the cutlass in two hands. Edward stood and approached William. "You cannot seriously be considering this. What are we to do after we cut off his arm, hmm? Let him bleed to death?"

  "The man has chosen his path. We will find a way. Step aside," William said.

  Edward ignored the order. "If we can find a way to stop Pukuh from bleeding out then we can find a way to stop the poison." Alexandre ran up to the poop deck. "Alexandre! There you are. Can you please talk some sense into these two? You can cure the poison, no?"

  Alexandre stared at Pukuh's outstretched arm. Alexandre, his eyes tired and defeated, shook his head. "This poison is beyond me. Dismembering is the only way, and that we have the chance to amputate is a merveille."

  William and Pukuh both tensed for what was to happen. Edward jumped in between them. "Hold, hold! What will we do afterwards? In case you are not aware, it is rather difficult to start a fire on a blasted ship! How will we heat the oil to stop the bleeding?"

  Alexandre folded his arms. "We can produce the same effect with a chemical burn. Continue on, messieurs, I shall return presently." Alexandre ran and disappeared to the deck below.

  Edward refused to move. "There must be another way."

  William inspected Pukuh's arm. The poison had spread halfway up his bicep by now, and was no doubt further along internally. "This is no time to argue. If you will not move I will show you why I am called the Arcing Light."

  William stood straight and closed his eyes while holding the sword at his side. After a moment, William opened his eyes. With speed unparalleled, William ran past Edward in the blink of an eye. When Edward turned around, William was standing behind Pukuh, his back turned and the blade at his side. Pukuh's right arm fell with a thud.

  Alexandre ran up to the poop deck with a bottle of clear liquid in hand. He took charge of the situation. "Hold him down!" Alexandre commanded.

  Edward, William, and several of the crewmates laid Pukuh down and piled on top of him so he couldn't move. Blood was gushing out of the stump on his shoulder, but Pukuh didn't scream once. His teeth were bared, his eyes were wide, and he breathed heavily like an animal.

  Alexandre didn't wait or slow down to warn Pukuh, he pulled the cork stopper out of the bottle and poured the clear liquid over the wound. The perfectly sliced cut boiled and bubbled as the acidic chemical burned Pukuh's flesh. The remainder splashed to the deck and ate through the wood.

  Pukuh thrashed and screamed in pain. The sound was like the low rumble of a wolf and then turned to a high-pitched cry of an eagle as Pukuh lost his breath. He continued to howl and writhe in pain against the crewmates holding him down.

  "Mon Dieu!" Alexandre yelled over the screams. "He should have passed out from the pain by now. Quickly, make him unconscious before he goes mad!"

  "Sorry Pukuh." Edward raised his fist and punched Pukuh in the jaw, causing the Mayan's head to strike the floorboards, knocking him out. His eyes closed and his body went limp. The crew fell off of him and let out deeply held breaths. Pukuh's wound was closing like Alexandre had said, but the skin was still boiling from the burns.

  "Move him downstairs so he may rest," Edward commanded.

  The crew lifted the Mayan and carefully carried him down to the waist with Alexandre in tow, hanging onto the blackened arm.

  Edward rushed to Christina's still body on the waist of the ship. Anne was at Christina's side, stroking her strawberry-blond hair. "How is she faring?" Edward asked.

  "Still pale as a ghost, but her breathing is normal. I think she'll be fine," Anne replied with a smile.

  "Let's take her below deck and place her in a bed."

  Edward picked up Christina's body with Anne's help and they carefully took her to the crew cabin. On the way, Edward noticed Alexandre and Henry in the surgeon's room next to an obscured body.

  Edward and Anne continued down another flight of stairs to the crew's quarters and laid Christina onto one of the beds. Anne filled a bowl with water, then dipped a cloth into it and wiped Christina's forehead.

  "I'll be fine here. Henry needs you."

  "Thank you, Anne." Edward kissed Anne on the forehead and then ran swiftly back up the stairs to the gun deck and into the surgeon's room.

  The shelves were lined with bottles in protected cabinets so they wouldn't sway and crash with the movement of the ship. A broad operating table stood in the centre of the room, and at the sides were small cots and chairs. A body lay on the table, covered by a large cloth sheet, and in one of the cots Pukuh was resting.

  Edward stopped at the sight of the covered body, then slowly lifted the covering, and saw his fears made true. Henry's mother lay there, dead. A different poison from Plague had reached her heart and killed her before she could be saved. For one last sign of hope, Edward looked to Alexandre, who shook his head and dashed Edward's tiny hope to pieces.

  The smell of death already hit the small room and mixed with the scent of unfamiliar chemicals that prickled Edward nose. Edward's eyes also watered, but not from the smell.

  Edward wiped his eyes and moved to Henry, who was sitting down in one of the chairs, tears in his eyes. "Henry…"

  Henry raised his hand weakly. "Don't, just… don't. I can't take this anymore, Edward."

  Edward was taken aback. He didn't know what to say to comfort his friend.

  Henry ran his fingers through his straight brown hair. "I can't take the fighting, the killing, and the death any longer. I'm tired, Edward. I want out."

  Edward's mouth went agape. "W-what?"

  "I want off this ship. I have the money according to the commandments, so I want you to take me to the next port and we'll go our separate ways."

  "Y-you must be joking. After all we've been through? After what the assassin did to your mother?"

  "The assassin is not the real reason my mother died. He may have poisoned her, but we put her into harm's way."

  "What? Us?
If we're to blame anyone for this it should be the assassin, not you or I. Listen to what you're saying, Henry."

  "I know what I'm saying. The fact of the matter is that we broke the law and these are the consequences. This all stems back to the day you decided to hold the pistol to Captain Smith's head. I'm not saying I'm without blame. I could have left you, but I didn't. I've paid the price of ignoring the truth, but I will not pay any more. I'm done."

  "What about all we've been through? What about our friendship?" Edward pleaded.

  "I've seen what happens to a friend who disagrees with you. I've made my decision, Edward, and it is final. I won't be your accomplice anymore. I won't be another victim in your never-ending game for freedom."

  Upon seeing Henry's unwavering expression, Edward lowered his hands. After the initial shock subsided, anger crept in, and Edward wanted nothing more than to hurt Henry. But Edward saw the covered body of Henry's mother once more, and realised Henry had already been hurt enough.

  Edward quickly left the room and closed the door behind him. He was exhausted and it all hit him at once. He shuffled downstairs and sat on the edge of his bed. On the opposite end Anne was still sitting next to Christina, and upon noticing Edward she came over and sat next to him.

  "So Henry has told you his decision, has he?"

  Edward opened his mouth to respond, but the words didn't come. He ended up nodding slightly before he sank to his knees.

  After a moment Anne stroked Edward's back. "I won't leave you," she whispered.

  Edward shot up. "Promise me," he said grabbing Anne's hand and gripping it like a lifeline.

  "I promise you, Edward, I will never leave you."

  Edward peered into Anne's steely gaze, the strength of her words reflected in the window of her soul. The oath Anne swore was etched in the deepest parts of her.

  Edward fell into Anne's shoulder and she stroked his wavy hair; he took the strength she wanted to impart, until night was upon them.

  27. Pushing Him Into Darkness