…
Edward leaned against the stone building. The rich floral design on the building contrasted heavily with his black leather longcoat and tricorn hat. Edward examined the hat, remembering the circumstances behind his first receiving a captain's outfit.
John had bought the outfit for him the first time they visited Port Royal. Edward was so happy because it felt like the first step in him becoming a real captain. Immediately after Edward received the outfit, however, he found out Henry was about to be hung at the gallows for his mistake.
Anger seeped in when Edward recalled what he did to Henry, and he crumpled the hat. Moments later, John emerged from the building. "Anything?" Edward asked as he reshaped and donned the hat.
"N-no, Captain. Still nothing. Either no one really knows, or they aren't telling us, I c-couldn't tell."
Edward scoffed and started walking down the street with John at his side. "Probably the former, the same as the others. They know nothing about the Hounds save from the rumours we've already heard. None have been captured and the Hounds ransom out high-ranking individuals for coin."
John wrung his hands with his usual trepidation. "P-perhaps the others will have more luck."
"Perhaps. Let's take a break. The day is hot and we've been walking much too much."
John pointed down the road. "There was a pub back a ways. Mayhap we can nourish ourselves as well?"
Edward led the way. "Now that you mention food, I also feel a bit peckish." Edward and John trekked along the cobblestone street, past the colourful houses and into the pub John mentioned.
The pub was a well-to-do establishment with clean stone walls and a well-lit interior adorned with chandeliers. The expertly crafted tables and floors were made of polished hardwood and filled with proper ladies and gentlemen.
When Edward and John entered, sweaty and ragged, the patrons and servers immediately stared at them. Many whispered about the new customers, no doubt appalled by their presence.
Edward paid them no heed and sat down at one of the lavish tables. After a moment a server arrived to take their order.
"Some rum and whatever you're serving today, miss."
"That will be two reals, sir."
"John, do we have any Portuguese currency?" Edward asked.
"N-no Captain," John replied.
"Do you take British currency?"
"Yes, two crowns will do."
Edward reached into his pocket and pulled out and handed three crowns to the server. The gentlemen and ladies were shocked to see such a man give such an exorbitant amount as if it was nothing.
The server smiled, thanked Edward, and went back to fetch the food for them.
"C-Captain, that was worth several bottles of rum and a week's worth of food," John whispered.
"The look on their faces was worth the price," Edward replied as he smirked and waved to the other patrons.
The server brought back their rum first, then in mere moments brought a plate full of steaming vegetables and thick cuts of herb-roasted meat. Edward received more share due to his generosity. Edward and John slowly enjoyed every bit of their exquisite meal.
"John, I wanted to apologise for before," Edward said out of the blue after downing some rum. "What I said was uncalled for. You've always been there for me, and you deserve better."
John was taken aback. "D-don't trouble yourself, Captain. I know how sensitive the subjects were, and I acted inappropriately."
"Nonsense, I know you wanted to help. I couldn't talk about…" Edward paused, the words hard to find. "The truth is… when I tried to bring Henry back I…"
Before Edward was able to continue, a smooth-faced gent in a feathered cap, long blond hair, and a blue doublet sat down loudly at their table.
"Oh, pay me no heed, please continue with your conversation. My business can wait," the man said, absentmindedly smelling a flower in his chest pocket and gazing at everything but the people he rudely interrupted.
Edward gritted his teeth. "You stepped into a private conversation, so you'd best state your business quickly or I'll force you to leave."
The man raised his hands. "I apologise, I meant no offence. I hoped you men were searching for the Hounds of Portugal, but I must be mistaken." The man rose from his seat. "I will leave you to your conversation."
"Hold! Hold, sir," Edward said urgently. "How did you know our business here?"
The man turned back around, took his cap off and bowed. "Philip Culverson, at your service. Knowledge is my game, and my birds told me where I could find you." Philip sat back down in the seat. "I trade information for money, and wherever I stand to profit you can be sure I am there."
"So you know where the Hounds are? How did you acquire such information?" Edward asked, dubious of the stranger in front of them.
"I do know where they can be found, and procured this information by having friends in the right places. Often it is not the questions you ask, but who you know to ask. I know who to ask," Philip said with a smirk.
"How much is your price?"
"This information is a bargain: free."
"Free? Why would you give away this information for free? What profit do you stand to gain?" Edward asked with raised brow.
Philip leaned closer and whispered, "Profit comes in many ways, my friend, and when the one and only Blackbeard is hunting for someone, he can't mean to conduct a pleasant conversation."
Edward frowned at John. They hadn't used their true names all day, yet Philip knew who Edward was. Perhaps this beard really is a problem.
"How did you find us out?"
"The name of your ship is famous, and, I mean no offence, but Edward Teach isn't the best nom de plume for Edward Thatch, if you ask me."
"Before you take us to the Hounds I have a few more questions. You say our ship is famous. Is my crew in any danger?"
"Do not worry, I've made the necessary arrangements to stall the marines. Your crew is safe, for now. Any other questions before we leave?"
"You said profit comes in many ways. How will you profit from our destruction of the Hounds?"
The smile left Philip's face. "The Hounds took my brother from me. I vowed to make them pay, but, alas, I am only one man. If I can point you in their direction, then my brother will be avenged. Whoever pulls the trigger matters not to me."
Edward peered into Philip's eyes. His story was believable enough, and the man himself appeared to be trustworthy. "Alright, we will avenge your brother after we conclude our business with the Hounds, I assure you. Lead the way and we'll formulate a plan to take them down."
Philip closed his eyes. "Truly I thank you." Philip rose from his seat. "I will show you the way to their hideout."
Edward and John followed Philip out of the pub and into the streets. They ran north through the side streets and alleys. Edward tired and needed to slow down after a few minutes.
"Hold, Philip. I think I ate too much, my head feels light." Edward leaned against a building. John, too, was leaning against a building on the opposite side of the street, until he fell to the ground with a thud. "John!" Edward yelled, stepping closer, but he fell to his knees abruptly. His body was shaking and he was having trouble staying upright. What's happening to me?
Philip knelt down in front of Edward. "Did you know the extract of certain flowers cause you to fall asleep when ingested?"
"You did this?" Edward's vision began blurring.
"Yes. Oh, and Blackbeard? Kenneth Locke says hello," Philip said with a laugh.
Edward grabbed Philip's collar, mustered the last of his strength, and punched the man in the face. After delivering the punch Edward fell unconscious.
Philip rose up and spat on Edward's motionless body. He took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped off his bloody lip. "Let us bring these two back to the ship. Mustn't keep the captain waiting."
As Philip walked away, the Hounds of Portugal took Edward and John in their jaws and away from the safety of their friends.
…
Edward awoke slowly, his head pounding, and the effects of whatever he was drugged with still coursing through his veins. He couldn't lift his head, and his eyes only slightly opened. His feet and hands were bound in chains, and he was hanging from the ceiling of a ship in a barred cell.
Edward moved his eyes around, noticing John hanging beside him in the same dulled state. In the dark ship he could see other barred cells, similar to the one he occupied, with other prisoners. The wooden floor was wet and rotting from too much water exposure. Rats slinked by Edwards' feet on the search for whatever food they could steal.
To Edward's right was the bow of the ship, and to the left, the aft. The aft had a set of wooden stairs leading upwards. Edward and John were near the middle of the ship on the starboard side.
"John? John, can you hear me?" Edward asked.
John did his best to swing himself around to face Edward. His eyes were open and he appeared unharmed. "I can h-hear you, Captain."
"You're not hurt, are you?"
"No, not that I'm aware. Where are we?"
Edward recalled the words Philip had said to him before he passed out. "We're on Kenneth Locke's ship."
John's eyes bolted open. "Kenneth Locke? B-but you left him on a deserted island."
"Yes, well, he must have escaped somehow. Doing well for himself apparently. He must be out for vengeance."
"Finally awake, ye bastard?" Kenneth Locke said, striding into the hold.
"Look who the rat dragged in." Edward planted his feet as he regained some of his strength. "I thought you were dead."
Kenneth smiled, showing his foul teeth as he entered the cell. "Oh I bet ya would'a enjoyed that real good, ya? I almost did die, a bunch o' times almost, but fortune favours me." Kenneth grabbed Edward by the cheeks. "Don't favour ye much, now does it?" Kenneth threw Edward's face back.
"How did you escape the island?" Edward asked while adjusting his jaw.
"Yer Captain Smith found me, locked me up. When I wus about ta lose me arm," Kenneth lifted his right arm, causing the coins in the chest to rattle, "I escaped. Been huntin' fer ya off and on ever since, and now fortune favoured me once again."
"So now what? You want to kill me? Get on with it. You're boring me."
Kenneth moved so close to Edward his rancid breath invaded Edward's nostrils. "Ye'd fancy that wouldn't ye? I love ta break this to ya: I'm gonna take things real slow with ye. Make ye bleed, make ye hurt, make ye beg for the end before I send ye ta Davy Jones."
Edward grinned. "There's just one problem with your plan Kenneth."
"Oh, whut's that?"
"I'm not very good at begging."
Edward smashed his head into Kenneth's face. Kenneth was sent back to the bars of the cell. Edward jumped from the ground and pushed his feet forward, pressing the chain binding them against Kenneth's neck. Kenneth was being choked against the iron bars of the cell.
Kenneth pulled his right hand back and struck Edward on his side with the heavy chest of gold. The force of the blow was so great Edward couldn't help but loosen his legs, releasing Kenneth. Edward fell back to the ground, his strength gone out of him.
After a moment's breather, Edward spat blood out of his mouth. The blow from the chest hurt more than any other punch he'd received before. "You have quite the right hook, Kenneth."
Kenneth lifted the chest on his right hand with ease, showing it to Edward. "They're callin' me Cache-Hand now. Your face is gonna be best friends with this hand o' mine by the time we reach our destination." Kenneth swung his arm back and uppercut Edward's jaw.
Edward's world went black once more.
30. John the Fearless
Edward shook himself awake. Kenneth was gone, and had been replaced by two men with muskets outside the cell. The ship was now swaying up and down with the waves.
Are we sailing now? "How long was I out for?" Edward asked John.
"An hour. Kenneth released the other p-prisoners, or killed them, perhaps. Either way, we're on our own now."
"I wonder if Hank was with them."
"I couldn't tell, all of the prisoners had rags on their heads."
"Well, if Hank was among them I hope to God he wasn't killed."
"Shut yer holes in there!" one of the guards yelled to Edward.
Edward decided to comply and bide his time. There would be a proper time to fight later, and now, when he was bound in every way imaginable, was not the time.
"Oi," the second guard said to the first, "grab us some eats and chairs, mate. This guard business is a bore, so at least let's be comfortable about it."
"And why do I 'ave to git 'em? Yer new, you do it," the first guard said.
"Precisely why I can't, mate. I don' know where nothin' is."
The first guard glared and pointed at the second. "Alright, but next time yer on yer own."
As soon as the first guard was up the stairs, the second turned around to reveal his face to Edward and John.
"Sam! What are you doing here?" Edward asked in surprise.
"Shhh, ye bleedin' idiot! They'll hear. I did jus' what ye asked and got recruited by the Hounds. I didn't know whut happened to ye until I walked down 'ere not a half hour ago."
"Well, you'll need to play your role a bit longer than expected now that we've left Portugal."
"Aye. Wus sudden too. Luckily I managed ta scrawl out a letter before we left. Freedom should know what happened soon."
"D-do you know where we're headed?" John asked.
"Somewhere in Ireland. I found out after we set sail, so the Freedom only knows you've been captured and I'm with you."
"T-that is truly unfortunate."
"Did Kenneth not recognise you?"
Sam laughed nervously. "Not yet, at least. He don' seem to remember me. Got right up close too. Ye seem ta be the focus of his rage, and the year an' some made him forget everyone else."
"Well, at least we can be thankful for that." Edward noticed movement from the ship's stairs. Edward motioned his head to the stairs, causing Sam to turn and see the other guard returning. The three stopped talking.
Over the next week, Edward and John did not see hide nor tail of Kenneth Locke. Various guards came and left during the days and nights, and each time Sam was able to he brought them extra rations to keep up their strength. If he hadn't they would have starved.
The ship docked at an unknown port, and, after Edward and John were blindfolded, they were let out of their cage and led away from the ship. The two were pushed along a sandy beach to a grassy plain, and then to a rocky road for a few hours, until finally being led into a building made of stone.
Edward could hear the crackling of a fire and the sound of wind through small openings high above him. He also heard a snapping noise like a carpet flapping against a wall in the wind. Are we inside a castle?
Edward and John were taken down a long winding stone staircase, then through a hallway and into a room. Their blindfolds were removed. The room they stood in was an old cellar. On the right side of the room two thin beds were provided, but were more fit for holding rocks than men. On the left side of the room a wooden table had been pushed against the wall with two chairs. The back wall was covered by a wooden wine rack which probably used to hold much more wine.
The guards who led Edward and John down to the cellar took the chairs from the table and moved them in front of the door. The two sat watching Edward and John intently, pistols at the ready.
"Where are we?" Edward asked after taking in his surroundings.
"We're at shut yer shit-hole, that's where."
The other guard laughed. "Nice one, Markus," he said, then the two slapped their hands together.
Edward moved to the corner of the room where the beds where, and John followed. "We could easily kill those two and escape if they didn't have those guns," Edward whispered.
"We have to w-wait for an opportunity, but it must be tonight. We cannot allow Kenneth to start whatever it is he wants to do."
Sam entered after a few words with the guards. He had a loaf of bread and two cups of wine on a tray. Sam handed Edward the tray.
Sam had his usual hyena smile. "Enjoy the bread, ye bastards."
Edward inspected the bread and noticed a long cut across the middle. Sam winked at Edward, then left the cellar. Edward sat on the bed next to John, his back facing the guards and blocking their view. Edward reached into the bread and pulled out a knife.
He glanced at John; both knew what to do. John moved to the wall of wine and began rummaging through the remaining bottles. Edward hid the knife in his pocket, and walked over to one of the guards.
"I need to take a piss," Edward told one guard.
"There be a bucket over there. Piss in that," the guard said, motioning to the bucket with his pistol while still sitting in his seat.
"Oi, don't touch the wine, old man," the second guard yelled to John, standing up.
"I don't enjoy the wine you provided, so I'm taking another." John's voice was steeled with purpose.
The second guard walked over to John, leaving the first alone with Edward. "That wine's not fer you, old man. Hands off, I said."
John peered over his shoulder and nodded to Edward, which nod Edward returned.
Edward pulled the knife from his pocket and thrust it into the first guard's throat. First came a loud thunk, then blood splashed onto Edward's face and clothes.
The second guard turned when he heard the noise. John pulled a bottle of wine from the rack and smashed it over the guard's head. The guard fell from the blow. John caught the man by the hair and stabbed him in the throat with the broken bottle. He died without being able to make a sound. John lowered the man to the floor silently.
After the two relieved the dead men of their weapons, Edward started to leave, but John stopped him. He motioned to his feet and then removed his boots. Edward followed suit. Barefoot might be difficult after escaping, but they could move stealthily.
Edward went to the door and opened it slowly. No one was waiting outside in the hallway. Edward motioned for John to follow him as he left the room.
Blackbeard's Revenge (Voyages Of Queen Anne's Revenge Book 2) Page 32
