Pirates of Savannah: The Complete Trilogy - Colonial Historical Fiction Action Adventure (Pirates of Savannah (Adult Version))

by Tarrin P. Lupo

  Two pairs of soldiers grabbed Patrick and Isaac by their arms just under the pits and roughly escorted them out of the Freeman yard. They shoved the bloody men through town to the curiosity of many onlookers. They were then dragged to Oglethorpe’s gigantic tent near the bluff. Although he resided in the largest structure in the city, the eccentric well-dressed man preferred to operate out of a field tent. Isaac and Patrick stood before the tent as Kingsley disappeared through the flap to seek audience with his superior before presenting the accused combatants. After a long and uncomfortable half-hour standing in the waning afternoon sun in front of the tent, the two were ushered in.

  The tent was arranged similar to the King’s Court. Oglethorpe sat regally in the back upon a throne-like chair while his minions orbited around him. The man seemed apathetic, as if the proceedings were a nuisance, and announced, “There are no lawyers allowed in Savannah, so you will present your own case." He cleared his throat letting Patrick and Isaac languish in his words. "You two are charged with dueling and the murder of two men. Make your case”

  “I did duel two evil men today," Patrick boldly stated. "It was a fair duel and rules were observed.”

  "Please," Oglethorpe sniffed, "Explain the reason for this duel.”

  Patrick hoped for reason and justice and threw himself at the mercy of the wigged man. He explained the entire story of Mr. Potts and how it was a matter of family honor.

  “Do you have any words in your defense, second?” Oglethorpe asked of Isaac.

  “It was exactly as Mr. Willis told it. I was the second and it was a fair fight. Ask anyone that was witness,” Isaac pleaded.

  Oglethorpe turned to Kingsley and asked, “And what are the witnesses saying about the duel?”

  “The rumor is proper etiquette was observed and the fight was fair,” Commander Kingsley stated. He then continued, hoping to persuade his superior, "But sir, you have had a very strong stance against dueling and I would advise that you wouldn't want to appear soft on your own rules.”

  “I want the colonists to feel I am just but sympathetic," Oglethorpe snapped. He made a temple with his hands just below his nose and considered the evidence before he gave his verdict. "My ruling is the challenger is free, but execute the second. Dismissed.”

  "No!" Patrick protested. Isaac was stunned for a moment but then the two duelers moved for Oglethorpe. They were immediately restrained as six soldiers surrounded Isaac and Patrick with muskets drawn.

  "Wait!" Dr. Nunis yelled as he stepped between the guns. “Mr. Oglethorpe, if you damn this innocent man and execute him, I vow I will help you no more. I will not treat one of your soldiers from even the smallest of aliments. I will leave them to bleed out on the battlefield. So Moses help me, I will be your doctor no more!"

  The wigged man scowled at the doctor but held his tongue. Instead, he looked long and hard at the doctor and the condemned Isaac, considering his next words carefully. “Doctor, you have been a good friend to the crown and I have long appreciated your services. If you vouch for this man, I will suspend his sentence." The kind Dr. Nunis released a relieved breath as Oglethorpe continued, "But beware good Doctor, you are now bonded to this man, Isaac Swartz. Any trouble and you will both answer for it. Is this understood?”

  The doctor's hands were trembling as he cleared his throat and responded, “I understand.”

  Oglethorpe waved his hand and his soldiers withdrew their guns. The party was allowed to leave unmolested to Commander Kingsley’s visible dismay. As Patrick and Isaac walked through Oglethorpe's tent flap, the commander and his sergeant glared at the freed duelers.

  Chapter 10

  Jenkins’ Ear

  After the duel and the ensuing trial, Isaac became a new fixture at the Freeman’s home during his free time. His name had become local legend in the Jewish community and his bravery reflected well upon Dr. Nunis. Benevolently, the good doctor gave Isaac ample time to recover the use of his right hand and arm. Patrick found a sort of inner peace after the duel. Normally he was against all forms of violence but this was not a street mugging or bullying. This was a voluntary battle in which he emerged the victor and that fact made the death of Potts and Edgeington easier to bare.

  Both men were healing quickly which was a miracle. Many shot wounds were met with amputation or were a short boat ride to the devil. Years of living in putrid filth had made their bodies very resistant to disease. Maximilian had removed his worm successfully as well. It took three long weeks of slow half turns of the stick, but he removed the worm without killing it. He even dried it in the sun and used it for bragging rights to his friends.

  Amos was not as fortunate. His foot festered and he had been fighting the infection for weeks. Many times Dr. Nunis wanted to amputate, but Amos refused and bore the infection. It was a long drawn out case of sepsis that never became full blown. The infection would grow fierce and the following day it would recede. Even though he was very ill, he still snuck out to the river to fish every few days when the fever would wane. Amos soon realized his infection felt better every time he soaked it in the cool river. Archibald surmised it was the cold water that helped the swelling or perhaps the brackish salt water cleansed the infection. Whatever the cause, after several weeks, his foot returned to normal and the family was relieved.

  With the mending health of the four young men, the next few weeks were uneventful and a happy time for the Freeman home. News had been trickling in from all corners that trouble was brewing once again between England and Spain. Patrick asked Archibald to explain the history of English and Spanish animosity. Being locked deep in a dank debtors’ dungeon for years, Patrick had been mostly unaware of the happenings in the outside world during that time. Archibald happily explained what he knew.

  “The Spanish hate the English as far back as I can remember. Many years back when I was a child the two countries made a trade agreement. If I recall, it was called the 'Treaty of Utrecht' which gave Britain a thirty-year asiento.”

  “Asiento?” Patrick questioned.

  “It is a Spanish word. It means the Spanish government gave permission for other countries to sell slaves to the Spanish colonies. Slavery, being a very profitable business, encouraged many English traders to jump on the opportunity to make fortunes." Archibald continued, "But it was not a treaty that held well. Britain and Spain were at each other's throats and constantly fought, so then it became common for Spanish ships to attack British vessels and steal all their cargos.”

  "Now, England is frothing at the mouth, like a mad dog for war, to have an excuse to rob the ships of the Spanish. They, and by 'they' I mean the politicians, even dug up some poor bloke named Captain Jenkins, a pawn if you will. They dragged the poor bastard onto the floor of Parliament and the House of Commons to tell the sorry tale of his ear and his ship, the Rebecca. It seems the sorry man was captured by a Spaniard named Captain Fandiño who accused Jenkins of piracy and sliced off his ear. He told the man, 'Go, and tell your king that I will do the same, if he dares to do the same.’ So the politicos in London propped up this sorry man and made him recite his sordid story to affirm that the Spanish threatened His Royal Majesty. I hear that Jenkins actually pulled out his own mummified ear to display to the esteemed council." Archibald laughed, "Foul, eh?"

  The mummified ear of Captain Jenkins

  "Of course," Archibald continued, “the shite rolls down from the top of the mountain and this silly political chess match is rearing its ugly head in the colonies. A soldier in town told me the other day that rumors are circling that the crown is centralizing forces here in Savannah. Governor Oglethorpe has sent word to the Forty-Second Foot Regiment as well as the Georgian and Carolinian Militias ordering them to assemble in Savannah. There must be truth to these rumors. I've received orders from the Governor myself to start making cannon balls and shot. Something grievous is definitely coming this way.”

  “On a good note," Archibald's toned lightened as he leaned in close to Patrick, "we are having a c
landestine meeting tonight, up the stairs in this very house. You are welcome to invite your friend Isaac. He has proven he is mettle worthy of trust but tell no other soul. The meeting will commence an hour after sunset.”

  Patrick then made off to round up Isaac. Although he was uncomfortable not knowing any details, Patrick was been able to convince Isaac to come along. If anyone else but Patrick had extended such a mysterious invitation, Isaac would have declined suspecting foul play. When they returned to the Freeman property, the two men spied Marian and Heather standing in the shadows of the yard as lookout sentries. Isaac was taken aback by the two women acting as security, but Patrick assured him everything was fine. Curiosity was growing in the large man.

  Marian whispered from the shadows, “They are waiting. Knock twice, then once, then thrice.”

  The two men made their way into the tiny house, then up the ladder to the loft and rapped on the trap door.

  Two knocks.

  Then one knock.

  Then three knocks.

  The trap door swung open and the two men ascended into the loft with only one candle to light the way. Four men and two boys sat in a tight circle. Archibald rose, inviting them to sit in the secret circle, but Isaac was so large, he seemed as if he would take up half the circle himself.

  “Welcome to the Freeman Society," Archibald announced warmly. "We are a network of men who believe a man is only subject to himself. We believe a man to be sovereign to himself and not a king or ruler of any kind. We also believe the individual knows best how to control his own life and make their own fortune, not anyone else. We can tell you more, much more, but first you have to enter this circle of trust on your own free will and accord. Do you two wish to continue?” Archibald questioned solemnly.

  “How could I possibly agree to honor something before I know what it is?" Patrick pressed. "You've got to tell me something."

  “We are at an impasse," Archibald frowned. "We cannot tell you any of our secrets until I know you can be trusted. Most secret societies work the same way, Patrick. In fact, a Free Mason will not tell you any details about who they are at all until you take a pledge of secrecy first. It is how it is done. Trust," the blacksmith explained, "begins with you.”

  Patrick and Isaac looked at each other in the dim candlelight judging how the other would respond. Both men nodded in approval to each other, turned to the men sitting in the circle and stated in unison, “We do."

  “Very well. You are welcomed into this circle of trust, founded on the ideas of personal liberty and sovereignty. Here you can allow your true mind to be free, speak what you will. You can ask any question, challenge any idea or belief without fear of reprisal. But there is a price for this freedom of the mind and spirit; you must never speak of this group to any soul without asking the permission of its members first. You hold the lives of these men and their families in your hands as they hold your lives in theirs. Do you understand the full importance of this vow you are about to make?” Archibald asked both men in turn. Isaac and Patrick both nodded in acknowledgement.

  "Then show your vow by wearing these." Archibald presented ribbons of black and yellow cloth to Patrick and Isaac. They were then instructed to tie the black cloth around their right arms, sealing the two to their vow of secrecy and to act as a reminder that a loose tongue would bring death to all they knew and loved. They were then told to tie the yellow ribbon around their left arms to seal their vow to follow the path of enlightenment, that the yellow was symbolic of the sun washing away the darkness of other peoples' ideas that attempted to control their lives.

  After the ribbons were tied to both of their arms, the small group circled on the floor chanted, “The only ideas we accept are ones that benefit our happiness. We will always work toward breaking the chains of an enslaved mind. So mote it be!”

  “Pay attention, lads," Archibald warned. "This is the secret handshake of the Freeman Society." He then locked his wrist to Patrick's wrist and formed a "V" with his index and middle laying them on Patrick's forearm. "There," Archibald shook Patrick's hand and motioned to Isaac. "Now practice this with your brother."

  After the two successfully mastered the secret handshake with each other, Archibald stood between both men, took them by their shoulders, and turned them towards the circle. "Gentlemen," Archibald announced, "let me proudly introduce Sovereign Willis and Sovereign Swartz to the circle." The men circled on the loft floor of the Freeman home. All nodded as Archibald gestured to the gentleman sitting. "To my right is Sovereign Quinn. You know his daughter Prudence. To my left is Sovereign Dandridge, Mari Anna's father. The gentleman wearing my clan's kilt is Sovereign McIntosh whom you have already met. I also think you may already know the twins, Sovereign Freeman and Sovereign Freeman," Archibald grinned.

  Archibald, Patrick, and Isaac then joined the circle and sat upon the floor. The wigged blacksmith stated the meeting would begin with news from other Freeman Societies and would end upon the study of the writings of John Locke. He turned and asked his brother, Sovereign McIntosh, of the news from the Scottish settlement in Darien, Georgia. McIntosh cleared his throat and spoke. "Many tongues run from the clans in Darien. Da Governor is about to call tis markers and command us to fight fir 'em. We understood that was da exchange for passage here and land t'was. The Scots will come to aid him if he calls. Something be brewing, laddie." McIntosh leaned in towards the circle, emphasizing his grim words, “The clans be preparing for war, just not knowing where or why yet. All men of fighting age are to descend on Savannah when da alarm be sounded.”

  “What do you think Oglethorpe is planning, Mr. McIntosh,” Patrick asked earnestly.

  “Lad," Archibald interrupted, "it is our custom to not use 'mister' or any title but 'sovereign.' It is a sign of respect as well as a reminder that the man you speak to is free and serves no one here.”

  Patrick sincerely apologized as McIntosh continued, “It probably has to do with da damn Jenkin's ear. It is all da town be speaking of. I would be betting we'll soon be fighting the Spanish for that Governor Oglethorpe.

  Sovereign Quinn interjected, “Lots of confusion and opportunity happen in battles. It could be a very profitable endeavor for our cause.”

  “If we can position ourselves near the battle, but not in it, we could scavenge a haul of muskets, munitions, supplies," Sovereign Dandridge added. "In all the confusion, none would be wise to our deception.”

  “Part of our discussion in this group is about the ideas of property rights, Sovereign Dandridge," Archibald warned. "It is immoral to steal another's property. Only two kinds of people use force to take what they want: thieves and government. We need to take the higher ground here, gentlemen. We cannot take anything from another for any reason, no matter how noble our cause.”

  “The British has enslaved and tortured our people since I can remember, brother," Sovereign McIntosh posed. "They steal our silver, our property, our freedom, our women and our very lives. Is it immoral to take back your own stolen property? If a thief robs me and then drops some of me silver on the ground as he runs away, is it immoral if I pick it up?”

  The circle of men sat and pondered the question. Each looked at each other, weighing morality in the scales of their minds, when Sovereign Freeman finally conceded. "No, brother. Taking back my rightful property from a thief or government is not stealing."

  Sovereign McIntosh grinned as Sovereign Quinn continued the reasoning “So by that reasoning, I suppose taking the arms and supplies of fallen British soldiers would be moral. The government did steal our monies with those same guns to buy all the supplies to outfit their handsome army.”

  “I would not see that as stealing," Sovereign Dandridge interjected. "That is taking back your own money but one would need to figure out exactly how much the crown has indeed stolen in his life and make sure to take not one schilling more.”

  Sovereign McIntosh was becoming visibly frustrated by this penny-pinching of morality. He asked emphatically, “And what be
da exact price would ya say the British owe me for killing me pa?! Should I try to estimate exactly how much me poor father would have made toiling the rest of his life if he was spared? Exactly how much can I take from the rotten English till me clan be fully square?”

  McIntosh was fuming. His brother sniffed back a tear and asked calmly, “That is a very tough question, William. I have the very same dilemma as you well know. I would assume you should take as much as you want until you feel whole and compensated for your loss."

  Sovereign Dandridge patted Archibald's shoulder with compassion as he chimed in, “Then let us gain riches from the storm brewing. Let us scavenge the thieving British in their next fight. We need to position ourselves close to the action but not in it. I say we hire a savage to guide us in and out of the bloodshed. The redskins are experts at what we are proposing to do.”

  “I know one I can trust," Sovereign Quinn added. "He's a fur trader and keeps asking for my Prudence’s hand. He's willing to do anything to get in my good graces. He’s very old though but highly skilled. I will contact him; determine if he will be able to assist us.”

  “Sadly lads I don’t think I can avoid the fighting part," Sovereign McIntosh confessed. "Me clan gave its word to Oglethorpe to support him if he ever needed us. I have to fight or I dishonor me family. I predict he is going to call us to arms soon enough. He visited Darien recently and showed us the respect of wearing a kilt the whole time he was there. He even opted to sleep under the big oak with the rest of the men instead of sleeping in a bed. Showing his ugly knees and sleeping under an oak tree, the Governor is making sure he is still in good favor with the clans. I will help the cause any way I can from the battle lines, but...” McIntosh hung his head slightly but the men of the circle nodded that they understood. It would have been comforting to have a man with the ability of the lumbering McIntosh along, but he was obviously honor bound.