Devon’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “That is one pirate you won’t have to worry about ever again.”
“Oh?”
“He is dead,” Cody said helpfully. “Who is the man you were speaking of? The one responsible for navigation affairs?”
“Robert Travis. He is a good friend and a good man. What he does not know about the sea has yet to be discovered. Should you accept my proposal, you will be under his command only. You will answer to no one but him.”
“Can I have a word with my men before giving you my answer?” Devon asked.
“Of course,” Perry said, rising from his chair. “I have some business to see to. I shall return in a few minutes.”
Once they were alone, Devon turned to the others. “Well? This involves us all. What do you think? Should we accept?” he asked, knowing that whatever the answer, their lives would never be the same again.
THE DOOR opened and three servants walked in carrying a few chairs, Perry right after them. The chairs were placed around a large mahogany table situated in the center of the room. Once that was accomplished, the servants left, and the governor motioned them toward the seats.
“I thought it would be better if all of us were to sit down. We have a lot to discuss,” he said as they took their seats. “So, have you decided how to proceed regarding my proposal yet?”
“Yes,” Devon said. “We accept. But we would like to be given some time before meeting Travis and sailing off.”
“Of course, of course. Excellent. Gentlemen, welcome aboard,” he said with a slight smile. “So to speak, of course.”
Brett cleared his throat. “Governor, may I ask, what has become of my uncle?”
Perry scowled. “Unfortunately, he escaped before we could place him behind bars. Somehow he found out about his deposition before the official announcement. He vanished. Obviously, he knew what would happen should he stay at Port Royal. I have men looking for him, but they have yet to find him. I do have some good news.”
“Good news?” Elijah said.
“Yes. Mr. Thompson, who I believe was the foreman at the Campbell plantation, was captured four days ago and charged with murder. Apparently after what happened at the plantation, Campbell blamed him for not being able to control the slaves and fired him. Thompson moved to Port Royal, and unable to find work, was forced to resort to thieving to survive. One of his victims fought him, and Thompson ended up beating the unfortunate man to death. Thompson had quite a lot to say about his association with Rupert Campbell and their… business ventures together. I believe this is yours, Mr. Campbell,” Perry said, handing Brett a piece of yellowed paper.
Devon saw Brett examine the document before looking up at Perry with a frown. “I don’t understand,” Brett said.
“It is quite simple, Mr. Campbell. Thompson told me how you were forced to sign the deed of the plantation over to your uncle. He stated that he and his men held you at gunpoint until they completed the transaction. Well, I am handing the deed back to its rightful owner. I am certain that between you and your mother, you will decide what to do about the property.”
Brett nodded. “Thank you.”
“There is more. When I moved to this house, the first thing I did was clear my… predecessor’s office of all his possessions. Imagine my surprise when I discovered this,” Perry said, showing a large stack of papers resting on the table.
“What is that?” Cody asked curiously.
“Ownership documents belonging to all the slaves. It seems your uncle did not believe them to be safe back at the plantation. Once again, these are yours, Mr. Campbell.”
Brett exhaled softly. “Would you be willing to help me with those, Governor?”
Perry raised his eyebrows quizzically. “Of course. What do you wish me to do?”
“I want to see to their emancipation. I believe they will need some documentation to make it official, but I have no idea what is necessary.”
The governor nodded. “I can have the documents drawn for you. All you will have to do is sign them. But… I mean no disregard to Elijah, but are you certain, Mr. Campbell? If you do decide to rebuild the plantation, you will need workers.”
Brett grinned. “That is my point exactly, Governor. I would like to have them back as workers, not slaves. I believe I can afford to pay them a small salary, at least until the accounts are balanced.”
Perry shook his head. “You truly are an amazing motley crew, gentlemen. Very well, I will see to the documents. But you still need to find the slaves. They disappeared after the plantation burned down.”
Devon cleared his throat. “We might have a lead on where to find them,” he said, remembering Joseph. “As soon as you have the documents ready, we will look for them.”
“They should be done by tomorrow afternoon. In the meantime….” Perry leaned back in the chair with a smile. “I want to know exactly how Captain Blackburn died. I seem to have missed the last round of rumors regarding your adventures. Most lacking on my part. So, tell me everything. I want to be able to imagine the battle as if I had been there. It will cure some of my sorrow. It will be some time before I’ll be able to sail the Caribbean Sea.”
Devon nodded, and they all contributed to embellish their exploits, starting from the last time they had seen Perry. They did leave some things out, like the fact they had a fortune hidden in their ship’s hold. It never paid to be too careless.
“WHERE TO now?” Cody asked as they went through the governor’s palace gates.
“We should go back to the ship, tell the crew everything is all right,” Brett said.
“I want something to drink first. I think we are all entitled to a little celebrating,” Elijah said. “There should be a tavern around here somewhere.”
Devon nodded. “Tavern it is, then.” He turned to Brett. “What are you going to do about the plantation?”
Brett shrugged slightly. “I guess I should rebuild it. I can use my part of the treasure. And the workers can help.”
“I like the idea of a salary,” Elijah said. “And about freeing us… I… uh…,” he stammered, embarrassed.
Brett chuckled gently. “It is quite all right, Elijah. It’s the right thing to do. As for the salaries, it is a good business venture. They know the work, and they will do it better knowing they are free. It will be my gain.”
Elijah scowled. “That makes it sound so ruthless. That is not why you did it.”
“No,” Brett said seriously. “But this is the way I was taught. I always see the practical side of every action.”
They found a tavern and walked in, then ordered ales all around. For the first time in a long time, Devon let himself go. He was free to come and go as he pleased, no troops to hide from, no patrol ships to elude, no gallows to fear. It was the start of a new beginning.
THE NEXT day, Devon and the others returned to Port Royal to once again see Governor Perry. As they strolled through the crowded streets, they were greeted as heroes, the news about Blackburn’s demise having spread throughout the town.
They were allowed into the palace immediately and taken to see the governor, who rose from his chair with a grin as they walked into the room.
Perry shook their hands eagerly. “Gentlemen, how are you faring? Mr. Campbell, I have those documents ready for you. As soon as you sign them, they will become official. All you will need to do is give each of the former slaves their document, and they will be free.”
Brett nodded. “Thank you,” he said softly, already signing the first document.
Devon turned to the governor. “I have spoken to my crew. They are understandably exhilarated about having been pardoned and working for the right side for once,” he quipped with a grin. “We have a ship and a full crew. I am sure that will save you some time and bureaucracy.”
“Indeed. Most of the men I chose to command my fleet are without ships or crews. It will take some time before everything is prepared. But should some major problem occur, I can always count on you,
” Perry said.
Brett finished signing the last paper. “There. All done.”
Perry nodded. “Good. You can take them with you, then, and good luck finding those men. In the meantime, I got word that Robert Travis will be arriving in Port Royal exactly a week from today. I expect you all to be here. Until then, the time is yours to do as you please. Enjoy.”
“Thank you, Governor. See you next week,” Devon said, following the others out of the room.
“Back to the tavern again?” Cody asked pleadingly once they were back out in the streets.
Brett gave him a mock scowl. “You are turning into a drunkard, little hog.”
Cody slapped his arm none too gently. “Shut up.”
Devon chuckled. “Why not? We have nothing better to do for the next few days. You can drink to your heart’s content.”
“I’ll be along shortly,” Elijah said. “There is a healer who lives around here who sells some of the herbs I use to heal some of our ailments. I’m almost out, so I need to get more.”
“Can I accompany you?” Brett asked. “I’m in no hurry to remain for hours on end surrounded by a drunken, noisy crowd.”
Elijah nodded. “Sure.”
“Excellent. Devon, will you keep these documents safe for me?” Brett asked, handing him the slaves’ emancipation papers. “Would not want them to get lost. They are far too valuable. Elijah, I believe this one is yours,” he said, giving Elijah his document. “You are officially a free man. We will join you soon,” he added to the others.
Devon watched the two men walking away, wishing he could have asked Brett to stay behind. He had never been the possessive type before, but for some reason, he hated to be parted from Brett. Maybe because Brett was so prone to finding trouble.
THEY HAD just left the healer’s establishment when Brett heard something off to his right. He stopped moving, eyes searching their surroundings quickly.
Nothing.
As he turned back around, he had enough time to hear Elijah groan from beside him, and the world exploded into stars.
Brett woke up some time later, his temple throbbing painfully from the blow to his head. His hands were tied behind his back, his ankles bound as well, and he was gagged.
Opening his eyes, he saw Elijah lying beside him, also tied up and gagged, his eyes still closed. A trickle of blood ran down his neck, and Brett realized they must have hit Elijah on the back of the head as well.
They were being taken somewhere. Brett could hear the horses’ hooves as they moved forward, and he felt nauseated each time the wheels of what appeared to be a cart hit a hole in the road. The two of them were hidden in the back, covered by a rough cloth, obviously to avoid anyone seeing them.
He could tell they were no longer in Port Royal; it was far too quiet for that. He could not hear the usual buzz of the lively town, the frantic noises coming from the harbor, or even the constant cry of the seagulls. From the silence surrounding them, Brett would guess they were heading inland, and by the bumps on the path, traveling on a scarcely used road.
Dragging himself closer to Elijah, Brett bumped gently against him until he heard Elijah groaning pitifully. Brett waited patiently for Elijah’s eyes to open, wincing sympathetically as Elijah flinched at the sudden light. Finally, Elijah blinked and turned his head slightly to look at Brett, who raised his eyebrows and shrugged helplessly. They were in trouble again.
They remained close together for the remainder of the journey, giving each other whatever meager comfort they could manage, until they finally reached their destination. The cart came to a halt with a shouted command from a harsh male voice.
“Finally,” someone said, and Brett gasped at the familiar voice. “I was starting to believe you would never get here. Were you successful?”
“Yes. But we were forced to bring one of the others as well. He was never alone.”
“Does not matter. Let me see him.”
The cover was thrown back, and for the first time, Brett saw his captors—two of the plantation’s former guards. Beside them stood a smug-looking Rupert Campbell.
“Well, well, well. Nephew, we meet again. It has been such a long time, has it not? Are you not going to greet your uncle?” Then Campbell chuckled. “Oh, of course. Silly me. You can’t speak with that rag in your mouth, can you?” He reached for the gag and, none too gently, pulled it from Brett’s lips. “What about now? Anything to say?”
“What do you want?” Brett snapped angrily.
“What is rightfully mine,” Campbell said, all humor gone from his face. “I could not believe when my men returned from town yesterday and told me not only that Blackburn had been killed at Hall’s hands, but that you were back and were going to be working for that old acrimonious Captain Perry. I also noticed there was no mention of a certain treasure belonging to McKenzie, which makes me believe you have appropriated it for yourselves. Well, I want it. Hall had better be able to trade the riches for you, or he will be a member short in his crew.”
“He will tear you to pieces,” Brett said angrily. “You still owe him for his father’s death. If you do this, there isn’t a rock big enough on Earth for you to crawl under.”
“We shall see, Nephew. We shall see. Take him to the slave quarters. He can stay among the ruins, for all I care. But I want one of you watching him at all times,” Campbell said.
Brett was dragged from the cart, and for the first time, he realized they were back at the plantation. His uncle had been hiding in plain sight all that time while Perry’s soldiers had been looking for him far away from the Port Royal area.
“What about the Negro?” one of the guards asked his uncle.
A shudder ran through Brett’s body at the hateful look his uncle threw Elijah’s way. “I don’t care. Do with him as you will. He is yours.”
One of the men grinned. “Thank you, Mr. Campbell. We can sell him tomorrow at the slave auction. He will make us a good profit.”
“Did you provide for the note to be sent to Hall?”
“Yes, sir. We offered a gold coin to a street urchin to give the note to Hall at the tavern where they were staying.”
“Good. Now, take my nephew to his new accommodations and get rid of the slave. I have some thinking to do.”
“Yes, sir.”
The men reached for Brett again. He did try to fight their hold, but tied up hand and foot, he was no match for the guards. He managed to steal a glance at Elijah, taking in the frightened light in the usually warmth-filled brown eyes, and wondered if he would ever see Elijah again. Brett knew his uncle wasn’t planning on letting him live, and even if Devon managed to rescue him, he would probably be too late to save Elijah from being sold in the auction.
DEVON GLARED at his drink. “Where the hell are they? It has been over an hour.”
Cody gulped down the rest of his ale. “You think something might have happened to them?” he asked, worry clear in his voice.
“This is Brett and Elijah we are discussing,” Devon said. “Before I met them, I got involved in the occasional battle, an odd skirmish or two with the governor’s troops, and that was it. Now we get trapped in caves, sunk by storms, stranded on deserted islands, engaged in battle every two days…. We have been through three ships in the last weeks.”
“We are also rich, Destiny is a much better ship than the previous ones, and we have never had so much fun before,” Cody said with a gentle smile.
Devon sighed. “Yes, there is that. They sure get under your skin, don’t they?”
“Captain Hall?” a small voice asked from beside him.
He turned his head to see a young boy, maybe six or seven years old, looking expectantly up at him. “Yes?”
“I have something for you,” the boy said, big blue eyes blinking fearfully, giving Devon a folded sheet of paper before running away and disappearing from the tavern.
Devon unfolded the note and read it, feeling his anger growing at the words scribbled hastily onto the worn paper.<
br />
“What does it say?” Cody asked.
“‘Meet me tonight at midnight with the treasure or he dies. I’ll be waiting at the Campbell plantation.’ It’s not signed, but I can guess who it is from.”
“Rupert Campbell,” Cody said grimly. “But… the note says ‘he dies’? He must mean Brett. But what about Elijah?”
“Hopefully, the note was written before they were captured. They were probably just trying to catch Brett, but he has never been alone, so they decided to take Elijah as well,” Devon said.
“Now what?” Cody asked, worrying at his bottom lip.
“We get ready for tonight,” Devon said. “And this time Campbell is not getting away from me.”
THEY LEFT Port Royal as soon as it got dark, Cody driving a cart loaded with large wooden boxes to hide their cargo, and Devon riding a black stallion.
They had been traveling the dirt road for nearly an hour when bad luck struck again. Devon was riding beneath the branches of an overhanging tree when a dark figure dropped without warning from the foliage. The attacker landed on Devon’s back, nearly sending him crashing to the ground.
Devon’s terrified mount reared up in panic, but the attacker hung on. For an instant, Devon was too startled to react, but reflexes honed by years of danger took command. He quickly reached for his knife and thrust the blade at the body blanketing him.
The robber loosened his hold with a cry and fell sideways from the saddle to crumple on the ground. Devon patted his mount’s neck soothingly, easing the horse’s panic.
“Devon—” Cody began.
“Not now,” Devon said with a shout.
Devon remained where he was; road bandits rarely worked alone, and sooner or later more would emerge from the shadows. He did not have to wait long. Three more rose from the long grass beside the road. One made for Devon, while the rest approached the cart.
Without a thought for the consequences, Devon reached for his pistol, hand as steady as a rock as he aimed it at the bandit coming at him. His bullet struck the man in the middle of the chest, the bandit flinging his arms out with a groan, as he crumpled from his mount.
Changing Tides Page 12
