“That Black-Hearted, he’s a cunning one, Sir,” confessed Mr. Wresfin in a drunken slur. “He commandeered our good vessel after marooning all the men, save one – poor Captain Blair, rest his soul. Black-Hearted intends to use the English Pride in the Queen’s name. Aye, he’s plotting for something all right, you can count on that; somethin’ wicked, he does. I overheard him say he planned to attack a certain Spanish vessel while she sailed in English waters.”
“A Spanish ship?” wondered Captain Stirvin, determining, “His intention is to pursue la Real.”
“Yes, I’m sure of it,” replied Mr. Wresfin, too drunk to really be sure of it. “If you hurry up, you can catch Black-Hearted. He can’t be too far. He’s still here on Port of Errors. These fine sailors,” he continued, gesturing sloppily toward Mr. Hall and Royal, “they can show you. They’ve been here on Port of Errors this whole time.”
Captain Stirvin looked to Mr. Hall and Royal, wondering curiously. “Where did you find this man?”
“Right here, Captain,” replied Mr. Hall. “We were just walking in to have one last pint before reporting for duty.”
Just then Mr. Wresfin regurgitated a mouthful of chunky liquid all over the floor at his feet. “Oh, exude me... excludes me… ex… I think I feel a little sick. Keeper!” He shouted, “Another pint if you please. I accidentally spilt my last drink!”
Captain Stirvin respectfully thanked Mr. Wresfin, adding, “You’ve done a great deed for your country. You’ll be hearing from me soon. Good day.”
On his way out the door, Royal tossed a piece-of-eight to the tavern keeper. “I’ll pay his next drink.”
“Well, give me a pint then,” said Mr. Wresfin to the keeper. “I deserve at least a pint.”
“Oh, and you plan on payin’ for this pint?” asked the innkeeper.
“That man just paid you for it. I demand a pint, Sir, for pity’s sake!”
“No, you’re mistaken, indeed, Sir. That piece-of-eight was a gift. You’ll pay for your own, thank you very much.” Mr. Wresfin could do nothing but sit and sulk. He picked up the empty mug in front of him and tried licking it clean.
As Captain Stirvin and the others headed back to the ship, Edgardo and Gabriel caught up with them. Edgardo thoughtfully suggested, “Mi Capitan, forgive us for eavesdropping, pero we know that Black-Hearted has a close compañero, goes by the name of Shaw – Scurvy Shaw. He might prove to be very helpful.”
“And how does this information serve me?”
“Scurvy will know where to find him,” replied Gabriel. “He’ll know his plan of attack.”
“So, if he’s such a close friend to Black-Hearted, what makes you believe he would lead us to him?”
“Sir, all cutthroats have a price,” assured Edgardo. “And Scurvy is the biggest cutthroat you will ever meet.”
“Such a man as this would surely take the money and run.”
“Pero, Capitan,” replied Edgardo, “it is rumored that Scurvy Shaw has una niña, a daughter, who resides on Port of Errors, solamente.”
“Abducting a woman to bring aboard my ship, this is your advice? Women are a curse to any vessel where only men are found. There is no place in battle for woman.”
“But, Capitan,” argued Edgardo, “this may be the only way to locate Black-Hearted.”
“We will locate la Real and stop Black-Hearted,” finalized Captain Stirvin. “However, if we are unable to prevent this attack I might be so inclined as to discuss such a route. Until then, do not ask me again.”
By this time, the Rogue and Roger’s Jolly had set sail. Black-Hearted was in a serious hurry to get things underway and attack la Real, knowing Mr. Wresfin had escaped Port of Errors and could have already gotten word out. Fuming mad, Black-Hearted swore to find and punish Mr. Wresfin, especially if he brought to light his dark plan. But, until he could complete this plan, he couldn’t dwell too long on someone as trifle as Mr. Wresfin.
They reached a small island called Raven Bridges, which was actually a cluster of five inlets grouped closely together. In the center sat the main inlet with two arches extending outward, east and west. The west arch pierced the waterline, forming a broad reef.
The roar of the crashing waves echoed loudly through the arches. From a distance on the horizon, Raven Bridges had the appearance of a giant bird of prey, as the booming roar of the rumbling waves echoed through the arches, voicing her call.
Black-Hearted ordered Captain Garrison, “Drop anchor and await my return. We have only one English flag and enough uniforms for one crew. With such a wealthy load, la Real will be sure to run if she suspects anything.”
Black-Hearted and his crew dressed themselves in the uniforms taken from Captain Blair’s men. They stripped the Rogue of all outward pirate indication and quickly sailed for the waters bordering Spain and England, in search of la Real.
A bombastic old colonial fool named George Hutchins, better known as Captain George, managed la Real.
Captain George had been living in the American Colonies for the past fifteen years and moved to Spain upon Don Reina’s invitation. Don Reina met the captain while visiting the Americas a few months prior and felt that his wild nature and undaunted spirit would do well aboard la Real.
Black-Hearted, looking quite dapper in his tightly fitted uniform, soon sighted a large mast on the horizon. Knowing la Real was a slow-moving vessel and could not sail windward very fast; Black-Hearted was able to position himself for the imminent raid.
The firepower from la Real’s undisclosed number of cannons made this task much more difficult to gage. However, nothing could stop Black-Hearted from his scheming appetite for vengeance.
Nearing, they spied a Spanish flag waving about her mainmast.
The trick worked and the men aboard la Real were fooled into believing that the Rogue truly was frigate in possession of England’s Royal Navy.
“Raise the Queen’s colors,” ordered Black-Hearted. “Be proud, me hearties!”
Without warning, but not in position for a full broadside attack, Black-Hearted called the order to fire her cannons. Sporadically firing, several cannons bellowed forth in shocking terror.
La Real was loaded with heavy firepower and was not about to yield.
As the two ships came within yards of each other, Black-Hearted gave the order, “Forward the guns for broadside blast!” Sixteen starboard cannons were pushed into position within the gunwale and gundeck. “Fire,” he shouted.
It was a damaging blow to la Real’s portside hull. The thunderous roar of the ominous blast sent several men flying through the air, a few of which ended up in the water between the two large vessels. At this point, an hour-long battle was initiated.
Thick black smoke billowed from both ships, turning the afternoon sky into night within minutes. Knowing salt would put out flames and soak up the expected blood, Gunner commanded the men, “Salt the decks, ya fools!”
Don Reina hid below deck while his crew readied to board the Rogue. When the roar of the cannons ceased, a few seconds of pure silence prevailed. Soon the clanking sounds of grappling hooks reverberated against the gunwales of the Rogue. Pulling the Rogue closer, the two ships clashed violently, causing the men in the water between the ships to gradually drown.
As the ships came together, the formation of the crew on the main deck of the Rogue wasn’t perfect, but mimicked that of English forces. Although it left a bad taste in his mouth, Black-Hearted cried out, “Long live Queen Anne!”
Several men ran to the edge of the gunwale shouting the same, adding, “For Queen and Country!” and “God save the Queen!”
As the battle raged on, Stephen, Gunner and Eric found an unmanned area of la Real and climbed aboard. They found Captain George nearly alone on the quarterdeck reloading his pistol and shouting orders, unaware that the three pirates had boarded.
Gunner quickly subdued Captain George, who was quite small and skinny, while Stephen made a noose and slipped it around the captain’s neck. With the other end of the ro
pe in his mouth, Eric being a very large man climbed the aft mast. A few of Captain George’s men ran to the quarterdeck to contend with Gunner and Stephen. Gunner thumped Captain George in head, knocking him out cold.
Eric continued on until he reached the main yardarm. Several steel balls grazed the mast by his head. “Look out, you’re going to kill someone!” he exclaimed.
Now standing on the yardarm, Eric took the rope from his mouth and tied a small loop, placing both hands through, to insure his hold wouldn’t slip as he clung tight to the rope just above the knot.
Captain George came-to and glanced up at Eric. “No!” he cried, feeling the other end around his neck. Suddenly Eric stepped off the yardarm bringing his hands close to his chest, while holding tight to the rope. The battle seemed to take a brief pause, as Eric descended toward the main deck.
Captain George’s fearful cry came to an immediate stop, but was replaced by an awful gurgling moan, when his body was abruptly jerked off the ground by his neck. At the same time, Eric’s descent quickly began to decelerate as his hands were yanked above his head when the rope promptly became tot from the stress and weight of Captain George’s body verses his own. Unable to bring his hands back down as he dropped through the air, Eric groaned with an agonizing pain when Captain George’s ascent unexpectedly angled toward his groin and connected. Counter balancing one another, Eric and Captain George came to rest high above the main deck. Complete silence engulfed the unbelievable scene, as Captain George’s body kicked and convulsed about, slowly strangling.
With his bloodstained machete in hand, Black-Hearted stood over Captain George’s fallen First Mate. No other figure of authority was left standing on the side of la Real, prompting her crew to abandon ship in the few remaining longboats.
Eric was now dangling above the main deck in tears. Just within reach of Eric’s head, Captain George’s legs kicking wildly in reaction to his dying nervous system. But with his hands still tied up above his head, he could do nothing but anticipate each blow in frustration.
Black-Hearted, still in uniform and character along with his men, gave no real chase, allowing Captain George’s crew to escape. Firing on them only twice, he convinced them that they managed to escape on their own. Black-Hearted had to make sure they spread word of his assault as a blatant English attack.
“Will someone please help me down!” yelled Eric.
Black-Hearted cut the rope with one quick swipe of his machete. Eric fell a ways down to the deck on his back, only to be smacked in the face by Captain George’s loose fist and a knee to his groin, knocking him out completely.
The ship was completely free of Captain George’s crew. However, Don Reina was yet aboard, still hiding from the massive onslaught and unaware of what had transpired topside.
Black-Hearted immediately ordered his men, “Loot her to the bilge and set her ablaze! We’ll leave her ashes for proof of the deed.”
Darby O’Dell questioned with a pleading tone, “But she’s a keeper, with hardly a damage ‘bout her face. She’s clean through, Hearted. Grant me be captain under your jack. A third ship in your own fleet.”
“She’ll stay where she sits and burn until only ash and charred remains are afloat. We’ll not make the mistake of keeping her with us as proof of the truth.”
Soon after the booty was gathered, flames raced upward from the bilge and through the corridors, violently lashing out from every side. The mainsail disappeared as it rolled upward into itself, vanishing into ash. A loud crackling sounded through the blaze as the timbers combusted, shooting out shards of cinder with every snap and resounding pop. Climbing the riggings and masts, the fire grew until the ship was completely engulfed in the destructive conflagration.
Standing on the quarterdeck by Black-Hearted, Darby noticed someone running through the flames. His jaw hung low as he hypnotically stated in his thick Irish accent, “’Tis a bloomin’ banshee.”
The personage then leaped from the ship in a blazing array.
“It’s Old Roger himself,” added Stephen, “gone back down below.”
“The loot is cursed, it is!” added Darby.
Some of the other men noticed that the supposed banshee or Old Roger was physically and frantically splashing about just beyond the flame-flooded ship. Eventually, Don Reina was fished out with a few minor burns. Black-Hearted, refusing to give his name, acted as though he were under the Queen’s command.
Don Reina, mildly burnt, swore, “Sir, you shall hang by your neck until you are dead for this insufferable outrage! We have the right of passage, signed by Queen Anne’s own hand.”
“Hanging by the neck until I’m dead?” questioned Black-Hearted. “That thought does not help your situation, Mate.”
After preparing his heart-shaped ring with ink, Black-Hearted put a hot flame to it, sadistically blistering his own finger in the process; a finger which had long since lost all feeling when it was broken and set crooked as a young boy. Watching in disgust, Don Reina cringed. “Are you insane?” he asked, now even more fearful of Black-Hearted’s mental state. “What are you doing?” Taking him by the wrist, Black-Hearted forced Don Reina’s hand to a palm-down position. “What do you intend to do?” he grunted, squirming and fighting in vain against Black-Hearted’s strong grip. “What do you intend to do?” Unsympathetically, Black-Hearted branded the back of Don Reina’s hand, ripping the ring violently away and taking with it a portion of skin. Don Reina let out a horrific scream. His fear only intensified when Black-Hearted tossed him back into the sea. “I don’t deserve this!” he cried, smacking the water with a force indicative of a thirty foot free fall.
Gunner stood over one of the dead bodies lying on the main deck and stuck his dagger deep within its chest. He sliced violently downward to its navel and ripped it out again in a sadistic manner, until the clothing was drenched in blood. He then lifted the body over the gunwale and pushed it overboard, close to Don Reina.
Gunner shouted out to Don Reina, “You never live through this to tell a soul. You’ll be a feast for the horde.”
Black-Hearted added, “See, now I need not worry about hanging by the neck until I’m dead. Good Day Don Reina!” He then carelessly sailed off, leaving Reina to his demise.
Only the crackling of the ships timbers could be heard in the quiet of the sea. Chills ran through Reina’s body with the anticipation of what surely awaited. And then it happened. A large shark approached the disfigured body that Gunner had thrown overboard and ripped into its leg. One turned into a few, and a few into a horde. They quickly devoured the dead and dying bodies. Don Reina, however, continued to remain amazingly unscathed.
The Rogue had set sail for Raven Bridges to meet up with Roger’s Jolly. From there, Black-Hearted planned on sailing to Port of Errors to meet Scurvy, who was currently on his way to further plans with him and Mr. Darcy.
Chapter IX
After a few tiresome days later, hoping to find la Real before Black-Hearted, the Crimson Reef arrived at the remains of the once Spanish merchant ship.
“Ahoy the main deck!” cried the watchman. “In the water, fifteen yards portside!”
Don Reina was still alive, though he could hardly keep his eyes open. When they plucked him from the sea, he was in the final stages of hypothermia. The harsh sun over the past few days in combination with the cold temperatures over the ensuing nights had weathered his waterlogged body. Shivering cold and delirious, he was dehydrated which led to him smelling of his own excrement. Captain Stirvin quickly saw to it that his injuries were properly treated since his burns were more than just moderate. Offering fresh water and a bite or two, he stuffed everything he could into his mouth and began to weep. Finally able to allow his body rest, Don Reina just passed out. Captain Stirvin personally carried his limp body to the captain’s chambers and placed him on his own bed.
Noticing the burn on the back of his hand, Captain Stirvin discerned the mark. He quickly recalled to his mind Mr. Wresfin, who claimed Black-Heart
ed had branded the same black heart upon the back side of his hand.
Unable to speak in his unconscious state, Captain Stirvin would have to wait to question him. A few days passed and the Crimson Reef came to rest at the London Harbor. Before they arrived, Don Reina was sitting up and rehearsed all that had happened. In this brief conversation, Don Reina confirmed, “It has been five days since the attack. If my crew did survive, word of this incident has most certainly found its way back to King Philip. You will need to act quickly if you are to save relations.”
When Captain Stirvin arrived at the Royal Estate, Queen Anne was livid. “So, this Spanish vessel was attacked in my name? Do you have any idea how this makes England look? Do you have any idea how this makes me look? I granted la Real the right of passage, only to be seen as the aggressor! Every country sympathetic toward Spain along with our own allies will be outraged.”
“I’m sorry, my Queen. When we arrived, the attack had already been carried out,” explained Captain Stirvin as he bowed and knelt. “The fault is mine, I was too late.”
“I am immediately dispatching a ship to Spain along with a correspondence clarifying the circumstances,” explained Queen Anne. “Be sure Don Reina is aboard that dispatch. Upon Admiral Flynn’s return, following the delivery of this correspondence, he will depart for Spain to personally smooth things over, if at all possible.”
“I’ll have Don Reina aboard the dispatch before the day is out. Admiral Flynn may yet be a few days, Your Majesty. He continues his search for la Real. We were to meet in the council chamber two days hence. I hope this will give adequate time.”
“The letter I am sending should make do until Admiral Flynn’s return,” assured the Queen. “I hope to resolve this matter with King Philip before the week is out.
“I am optimistic we will succeed, My Queen,” replied Captain Stirvin. “However,” he continued, “there are further details you must know. Count Reina carried with him documents that forge a deeper relationship with France. Once Don Reina returns to Spain, the alliance between France and Spain will be made final. They had also hoped to bring Denmark into their alliance, but this they could not bring to pass.”
Port of Errors Page 11
