by carl ashmore
‘We can pay,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘We can pay very well.’
Beattie looked him over. ‘Judgin’ from the cut of your jib, I’m sure ya can, deary. So where are heading fer?’
‘Mary Island.’
Beattie turned a dull grey. In an instant, she barged from behind the bar, seized Uncle Percy’s lapel and dragged him forcibly to the side, making sure no one could hear what she had to say. ‘Don’t be spoutin’ that name round ‘ere! These walls talk.’
Uncle Percy didn’t waver. ‘Do you know a crew that can take us there?’
‘Even if I did, I wouldna tell yer. Yer after something that should jus’ be left alone.’
‘We’re not after Blackbeard’s treasure,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘Not as such. We’re after a single item from it, but the crew that delivers us to Mary Island can have the rest.’
‘And yer think yer know the whereabouts of his haul, do ya?’
‘No. But we’ll find it.’
Beattie shook her head in despair. ‘If I’d a guinea for every time I’d heard that I’d own Nassau. Many have gone lookin’… few have returned. And none have been any the richer.’ She glanced kindly at Becky and Joe. ‘And yer got young ones with ya. It’s not a trip ye should be taking.’
‘Believe me when I say that we have no choice …’
Staring into Uncle Percy’s remorseful eyes, Beattie’s expression softened. She glanced at Bruce. ‘Yer trust him, Bruce?’
‘With my life, Beattie,’ Bruce replied. ‘He’s a good man. And he speaks the truth. We need to find Mary Island. And I swear on my momma, it ain’t outta no greed.’
Beattie hesitated. ‘Come with me. I may know of someone that can help ye.’ With a heavy sigh, she stomped over to a door at the far end of the room. Knocking twice, Beattie opened it and disappeared into blackness.
Moments later, they all filed into a large, airless room. Sunlight bled through a crack in the ceiling, exposing an old man sat at a crooked wooden table. Wearing a long ragged cloak, he had long, lank, grey hair and a pale, gnarled face. He was staring impassively at the wall and drinking rum from a pewter tankard. ‘Who goes there?’ he roared gruffly.
‘All’s well, Hugh. It’s me, Beattie.’
‘Who’s with ya, girl?’
‘Strangers … But I’m promised they’re fine, honest folk. They want to talk business with ya.’
The old man paused for a second. ‘Very well.’
To Becky’s surprise, she saw the old man’s eye were as white as snow. He was blind.
‘They’re lookin fer a crew,’ Beattie said. ‘A crew willin’ ter go places others won’t. And they’ll pay, Hugh. They’ll pay handsomely.’
‘Oh, aye,’ the old man said, suddenly interested. ‘Then, all of ya, come over ‘ere and take the burden from your feet.’
‘I’ll leave ya to yer business,’ Beattie said, and she left the room. Everyone walked over and joined him at the table.
‘Thank you, sir,’ Uncle Percy said, sitting down. ‘I’m Percy Halifax. These are my friends Bruce Westbrook and Will Shakelock. And this is my niece and nephew, Becky and Joe Mellor.’
‘And they call me Hugh Livesy … but ter most it’s just Blind Hugh. Anyways, what’s this ‘bout you needin’ a charter? Where d’you ‘ave a mind to go?’
‘We don’t exactly know,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘Do you speak for a ship and crew?’
‘Best ship and crew in these waters,’ Blind Hugh said. ‘And what ya mean ya don’t know?’
‘We need to get to Mary Island. But we don’t know where it is.’
Blind Hugh fell silent. Slowly, he raised his tankard and drained it. ‘Ah, another fool hopin’ to find Teach’s gains, eh?’
‘Not exactly.’
‘Then what ya want with Mary Island?’
‘That’s our business. Do you know where it is?’
Blind Hugh chuckled sourly. ‘No. Mary Island is one of the ten Macaco Islands. Only Teach himself knows which one it is. And Israel Hands, maybe. Both of them are dead or dying, from what I hear.’
‘We know which one it is. If we can get to these Macaco Islands, we can identify the island.’
Blind Hugh scowled. ‘And how you be knowin’ that?’
‘Let’s just say a voice from the grave told us.’
Blind Hugh laughed coldly. ‘And a grave is exactly where yer’ll be if ya try ter get there. A watery grave.’ His face grew stern. ‘Them waters are cursed, so it’s told. And protected, too.’
‘Protected?’ Uncle Percy asked.
‘Aye. A serpent guards those waters, so they say. A serpent as long as the Thames.’
‘A sea-serpent?’ Joe said quietly.
‘Aye, lad,’ Blind Hugh replied. ‘A beast that’d scare Poseidon himself. At least, that’s the way the story goes...’
Uncle Percy noticed the look of dismay on Becky’s face. ‘Have you seen this sea-serpent?’
‘Nope,’ Hugh replied.
Uncle Percy shrugged. ‘Then it could be just that … a story!’
‘Could be,’ Blind Hugh replied with a sneer. ‘Except the story came from an old salt, Billy Benson … and Billy never told me no lies in all the years we sailed together, not until scurvy took him fer dead. You see, Billy was a boatswain in the King’s Navy, and as he told it, in the summer of 1708 were part of a fleet of six gun ships sailin’ through them Macaco Islands. Anyway, accordin’ to Billy, a serpent rose from below and took five out of the six ships to Davy’s locker. Billy’s ship was the only one ter stay afloat. Years later, he gave me the bearings fer those waters. But I ain’t never used them.’
‘And will you use them now?’ Uncle Percy asked.
Blind Hugh turned away as if something else, something important was playing on his mind. ‘What be your deal?’ he asked faintly.
‘If you can take us safely to Mary Island, then I guarantee all of Blackbeard’s treasure is yours to share between you and your crew. You can have everything with our thanks. All we ask is to keep but one item: his treasure chest, or at least one of them. We’ll tell you which one.’
Blind Hugh looked confused. ‘A box?’ he said with disbelief. ‘All yer want is a box?’
‘Yes,’ Uncle Percy replied simply. ‘And as a sign of good faith, you can have this now.’ He pulled something from his pocket.
Becky saw his fingers were curled round something that resembled a small apple. Then she gasped. He was holding the largest emerald she had ever seen.
Uncle Percy placed the emerald in Blind Hugh’s hand, whose fingers promptly traced its jagged contours. A smile curved on his face.
‘Well, I may not be able ter see it, but I knows me a remarkable stone when I feels one. An emerald, right?’
‘That’s right,’ Uncle Percy replied.
Blind Hugh tucked it swiftly into his cloak pocket. ‘Now tell me, what manner o’ man pays their passage with a jewel like that?’
‘I’m just a simple traveller.’
‘Well, traveller, it looks like yer’ve acquired the services of The Black Head.’
‘The blackhead?’ Joe spluttered, about to laugh, until Uncle Percy looked at him reproachfully.
Blind Hugh didn’t notice. ‘Aye, lad,’ he said proudly. ‘She may not be the sprightliest on the Spanish Main but she ain’t ready ter swallow the anchor just yet.’
Uncle Percy looked confused. ‘Don’t you need to talk this through with your Captain?’
Blind Hugh laughed. ‘The Black Head don’t have no captain. The crew works as equals. We’re all old salts and sailed under captains fer too long.’ His expression mellowed as he said, ‘Well, excepting one and he’s too young ter ‘ave a say in the matter. Anyhow, when is it ya want ter set sail?’
‘When can you be ready?’
‘Within the hour,’ Blind Hugh replied. ‘And if yer’ll pardon my leave I’ll go inform me buckos and make preparations.’ And with that Blind Hugh stood, lifted up a thin cane that rested on his
chair and tapped his way to the door.
Becky waited until Blind Hugh had left and giggled, ‘The Black Head? Is he serious?’
Joe grinned. ‘Should’ve called it The Red Zit.’
‘Or The Blue Boil.’
‘Or The Purple Pimple.’
Uncle Percy laughed with them. ‘As long as it’s seaworthy, I don’t care if it’s called the - ’His sentence was cut short by a voice from the doorway.
‘How very charming…’
Uncle Percy whirled round. Will’s hand shot to his cutlass.
George Chapman moved snake-like from the shadows. He wore an English naval officers uniform and held a gleaming sword. Dressed identically, Otto Kruger trailed him in, a thick scar down his right cheek that seemed to glow against his cold features. Just behind him, stood a colossal pirate with a shaven scalp and tattoos that covered every inch of his chest and face. Two Associates brought up their rear.
Chapman approached them, glaring at Uncle Percy. ‘Let me make the following matters simple, Mister Halifax. I am here for the map and whatever else you possess in relation to The Box of Eternity. You will give me that which I ask now. In exchange, I offer nothing bar your lives.’ He struggled to contain his rising anger. ‘You have already made a fool of me and I assure you it will not happen again. Mister Kruger, if you would care to show Halifax how serious we are then please do so.’
Smirking wildly, Kruger pulled a Luger pistol from his coat, turned it on Will … and fired.
Becky didn’t have time to scream when Will’s blood showered her face.
- Chapter 23 -
Firearms and Forearms
Time stood still. Trembling, Becky’s eyes watered as she waited for Will’s body to slump to the table. Instead, relief swept through her as she saw him tilt his head coolly to the side, revealing a deep bloody channel in his cheek. Then, veiling any pain he might have felt, his eyes met Kruger’s and he smiled.
Unable to process what had just happened, Uncle Percy opened his mouth to say something but closed it at once.
Chapman, on the other hand, appeared more than willing to talk. ‘Now the map, please, Mister Halifax, or the next bullet will meet his brain.’
‘It’s in the time machine,’ Uncle Percy said without hesitation.
Chapman pointed the sword at Becky. ‘Give the child the keys to your vehicle.’ He glanced at the bald pirate. ‘Mister Doublehook …accompany her, and if she proves troublesome, show her why Mister Drake was keen to recruit you.’
The tattooed pirate nodded and raised his arms into the light. To Becky’s horror, she saw two razor-sharp iron hooks instead of hands.
Chapman turned back to Uncle Percy. ‘And if you attempt to repeat the trick you employed in Chicago she will be punctured like meat on a skewer. Now pass her your keys.’
Uncle Percy pulled the keys from his pocket and threw them to Becky, who caught them. ‘The map is in the glove compartment.’
Chapman gave a pitiless laugh. ‘Mister Drake was correct about you. These children are your weakness.’
‘I’m afraid you couldn’t be more wrong about that.’ Uncle Percy glanced at Will and the two of them exchanged a curious look. ‘What do you think, Will?’
‘I believe they give me strength,’ Will replied. Then, in a blur, he pulled free a dagger and pitched it at Otto Kruger. Before Kruger could react, the blade struck the pistol, sending it rattling across the floor. In the same movement, Will drew his cutlass and glowered at Kruger. ‘Perhaps we should finish this now?’
Kruger’s eyes burned with wild delight. ‘I agree.’ Slowly, he unsheathed his sword, then, with lightning speed, he attacked. Blades collided. Kruger broke off and swiped high. Will ducked, the blade whistling above him. Kruger attacked again, stabbing at Will’s stomach. This time, Will parried.
Becky could barely look.
Time and time again, Kruger threw everything into his assault. But Will was faster, more agile. He dodged every assault. Seeing this, an Associate charged into the fray, sword held high. Like a dervish, Will fought them both off, blocking and attacking, twirling and slashing.
Becky’s heart was in her throat. Then she saw something that sent shockwaves through her.
Uncle Percy had unscrewed the handle of his cane and pulled free a sword. ‘Chapman,’ he said. ‘En garde…’
Chapman smiled as he raised his sword and lunged at Uncle Percy.
At the same time, Bruce stepped toward Doublehook. ‘Well, buddy, I don’t know ‘bout you, but I feel kinda left out.’ He withdrew his cutlass. ‘You wanna dance?’ With a wild grin, Doublehook sprang, arms outstretched, hooks glinting in the half-light.
Horror-struck, Becky surveyed the bedlam. The clatter of metal on metal shattered the air. Then her eyes widened. Joe had extended his Joe-Bow. ‘What are you doing?’
Joe ignored her. He set an arrow on the bowstring and aimed at Kruger. The remaining Associate saw this and charged at him like a bull, nearly bowling him over, before seizing him in a headlock and squeezing hard.
Desperate to help, Becky looked round. Spying Blind Hugh’s empty rum bottle, she grabbed its neck and, with one almighty swing, smashed it across the Associate’s head; the glass shattered on impact, sending the Associate crashing to the floor.
Joe gulped a lungful of air. ‘Thanks, sis.’
‘My pleasure,’ Becky replied. Looking round, she saw the fighting had intensified. It was surely only a matter of time before Uncle Percy, Will or Bruce was hurt or killed. She had to do something. Suddenly, she spied a flash of metal: Kruger’s pistol. Sprinting over, she fell to her knees, skidded a few feet and scraped it up. Then she aimed at the ceiling and fired. The sound ricocheted off the walls. ‘STOOPPPP!’ she yelled. Then she pointed the gun at Chapman.
Slowly, one by one, each duel stopped. Everyone turned to face her.
Chapman began to laugh.
‘SHUT UP!’ Becky shouted at him, her hand tightening around the grip. ‘I know who and what you are and have no problem pulling this trigger.’
‘You know nothing,’ Chapman sneered.
‘I know you’ll drop that sword or I’ll shoot you in the leg.’ Becky had never sounded more serious. Chapman appeared to recognize this and, grudgingly, released his sword. She turned the pistol on Kruger. ‘And you, goob!’
Kruger hesitated for a second, and then shrugged coolly as if he, too, was about to comply. But, with a piercing yell, he swung the sword at Will’s head. Becky didn’t have time to scream a warning. It didn’t matter. With lightning reflexes, Will pivoted on his back foot and leaned back. The blade missed by an inch. As the sword’s momentum continued, Will brought his cutlass upwards. It sank into flesh, severing Kruger’s arm at the elbow. Kruger gave a horrific, inhuman scream and dropped to his knees, agony lacing his face. Instinctively, Will whirled round for the kill. But then a quivering voice filled his ears.
‘No, Will!’ Joe pleaded. ‘Don’t kill him. He’s finished.’
Will’s rage dissolved. He let the cutlass drop to his side. Slowly, darkly, he leaned into Kruger’s ear. ‘That was for my friends, Maria and Jacob. Should our paths cross again, it will be for their kinfolk and you will not be left with a single breath in your unholy body.’
Uncle Percy walked slowly over to Becky and tendered his open palm. ‘Please, Becky,’ he said. ‘May I have the gun?’
Unable to tear her eyes from Kruger’s severed arm, Becky felt close to fainting.
‘Please, Becky, the gun …’ Uncle Percy repeated.
Shaking uncontrollably, Becky passed the gun over.
Uncle Percy turned it on Chapman. ‘I’m going to give you a courtesy you would never give us…’ He exhaled deeply. ‘I’m allowing you to leave with your life.’ He nodded at Kruger. ‘Now go … get out of here, and take his arm with you! I wouldn’t want Beattie to have to clean that up.’
Chapman glared back. ‘This affair isn’t over.’
‘Perhaps. But it is for now …’
>
Within minutes, Chapman, Kruger, Doublehook and the two Associates had left, leaving Becky feeling sickened, confused, and fearful of what was to come. Somehow, George Chapman had discovered precisely where and when in time they were. She didn’t know how. She didn’t know what he had in store for them. But she was under no doubt his parting words were no idle threat.
Nothing was over.
- Chapter 24 -
The Black Head
Becky couldn’t leave the backroom quick enough. Still shaky, she trailed an ashen-faced Joe to the bar where Uncle Percy had pulled Beattie to one side, apologised profusely for the bloody state of the backroom and thrust a bag of gold into her hand for any inconvenience caused. To his surprise, Beattie laughed the whole thing off, saying she’d once found a pair of severed legs in the same room after a particularly grisly bar fight.
‘And the owner never came back ter reclaim ‘em, either!’ she cackled, pointing at the far wall where the legs had been proudly mounted as a trophy.
Becky looked over and retched.
Looking somewhat peaky himself, Uncle Percy quickly ordered two bottles of rum for Mister Flint and made a beeline for the door.
‘Tis a shame yer didn’t keep the arm, me dearies,’ Beattie shouted as they walked off. ‘It would’ve looked lovely on me limb wall…’
Outside, Uncle Percy spent the next ten minutes patching up Will’s cheek with various implements from Beryl’s medi-box. Even with his skilled work, Uncle Percy told Will he would probably be scarred for life, which Will immediately dismissed with a shrug of his shoulders and the words, ‘I have more scars upon my person than a tree has leaves.’
Just as they were about to leave for the Black Head, Uncle Percy filled Mister Flint’s water bowl with rum and everyone sat back to watch what happened next.
‘Through the mouth …’ Mister Flint screeched excitedly, his head dipping left and right. He drained the rum in one gulp, gave a satisfied burp and squawked, ‘Into the bowels …’ Then he extended his wing, buried his face into his back feathers, and closed his eyes. Soon, he was fast asleep and snoring loudly.
