Port of Errors

by Steve V Cypert

  “If word gets out that we have attacked this innocent Spanish vessel without incident, we will undoubtedly be left to ourselves, without a single ally. Nothing will stop Spain or France from rallying a greater alliance together, including Demark, Savoy and others. It will be they, not I who will rule these waters. And that is unacceptable!”

  “If it pleases Your Majesty, allow me to escort the Don to Spain,” Suggested Captain Stirvin. “I can weigh anchor within the hour and speed word to King Philip…”

  Queen Anne immediately cut him off. “What you will do, Captain, is assure me that Don Reina boards that ship! You will then set sail and, by whatever means necessary, bring that pirate to justice. He is to be hanged as soon as is possible! Unless you specifically see fit, for the security of this nation, no longer are we to have ties with any pirate claiming to be patriotic. All pirates, whether privateer or not are to hunted down and hanged.”

  “Your Royal Majesty,” respectfully replied Captain Stirvin. He stood at attention with his hat tucked under his arm, awaiting dismissal.

  “You will not let me down,” commanded Queen Anne. ‘I trust you understand me. Mark my words, Captain, either he or you shall be hanging on the gibbet for all to see by month’s end!”

  “Yes, My Queen,” Submitted Captain Stirvin. “Your word is my command.”

  Collecting Don Reina, Captain Stirvin quickly escorted him to the Queen’s awaiting dispatch. Before the day was out, Don Reina was safely on his way to Spain with the contract of alliance.

  The next night Kale, a bounty hunter who commanded a small group of eight mercenaries, arrived at Port of Errors. As they cautiously pulled along the eastern side of the island, their location was kept concealed by the thick of the trees, beaching their skiff about two miles from the edge of town.

  Kale was there for one reason only, having spent the last several years in the orient learning skills that might better his way of life; he wanted to die wealthy and infamous.

  Keeping only to the wooded areas, they scrambled through the thick brush, staying away from all roads and marked paths, wishing to keep their presence on the island unnoticed.

  Arriving just within the borders of town, they were able to view a large portion of it. Kale noticed somebody walking alone and decided to follow at a safe distance. He then eyed two of his men, Damon and Hunter Jade, brothers by birth, gesturing toward the poor gent. Damon and Hunter ran a small length to the side of a wooden shed. The man turned, having heard a small scuffle nearby within the dark of the woods. Becoming paranoid, his pace increased to a slow jog. He could hear the sound of footsteps simultaneously echoing along with his own. The accompanying steps just behind him became louder as his jog accelerated into a run. Continually catching the sound of steps keeping in sync with his own, he stopped and turned. But there was no one within his range of view.

  “Who’s there?” he muttered. “Who’s there, I say? Show yourself.”

  Turning back toward the harbor, he felt a warm blow and snapping sound resonate within his head and everything suddenly went black.

  Coming-to, this innocent victim found himself deep in the woods, surrounded by Kale and his men, each with a ready weapon in hand and burlap bags over their heads with cut-outs to see from. Kale was at the forefront and carried a large cutlass, and a long barrel musket slung over his shoulder.

  “What is this?” questioned the old gent.

  “When I ask, you answer!” demanded Kale. “Nothing else need be said. Now, what is your name?”

  “Jon,” he sobbed with a fearful sniff. “Jon Laughlin!”

  “I assume you live on the island, close by.

  “Aye, have most me life, Sir.”

  “Then I take it you know a woman, goes by the name of Isabel Shaw?”

  Fearing for his life, he hesitantly replied, “Oh, please Sir, what do you mean to do?”

  Kale smacked him across the cheek with the back of his closed fist. “Don’t forget old man, I ask and you answer! If you so much as think about givin’ a false answer, I’ll bleed you dead, Jon!”

  Jon begged, “Please, don’t make me do this. I can’t be a part of such dealings.”

  Kale struck him even harder. “I won’t be askin’ again, Jon!”

  Damon leaned in close. “I’d listen to the man if I were you. This is not a game, Mate; and he doesn’t play kindly.”

  A small drop of blood ran down the side of Jon’s cheek. “She…” he paused knowing that if Kale didn’t kill him, Black-Hearted most certainly would.

  Kale slapped him again with an open hand. “She what, Jon? Tell me!”

  With no way out, Jon finally gave in. “She lives about a mile to the north, she does, in a small cottage on the border of town at the woods edge. ‘Tis the only place with a red door.” Feeling completely defeated, Jon lowered his head and whispered in tears, “I’m as good as dead.”

  “Right now, the only thing you need fear is me,” cautioned Kale, thinking Jon was afraid of Scurvy, knowing nothing about Black-Hearted’s relationship with Isabel. He continued, “There’ll be nothing left for Scurvy if you’re lying to me!” He smacked Jon once more in the same manner.

  “It isn’t Scurvy I’m afraid of,” said Jon. “What do you mean to do with her?”

  “That’s none of your business,” said Hunter as he pulled Jon to his feet and forced him to go with them.

  The mercenaries approached Isabel’s home and walked up to her front door. They found it unlocked and quietly helped themselves in. The wooden planks creaked, as they set foot on the floor, but continued on without hesitation.

  Isabel woke up to Kale standing directly above her. Before she could let out a scream, Damon covered her mouth. The others tied her up carried her out.

  “I’m sorry Isabel, I’m so sorry!” confessed Jon, who lay prostrate on the ground, defeated and undone.

  “Shut-up!” yelled Kale as he struck him across the mouth with his musket, knocking him to the floor in a slight daze. “Stand him up!” he ordered.

  Damon took Jon by the arm. “Come on, get up you old fool!”

  Suddenly and without warning, Kale thrust the point of his curved blade into Jon’s abdomen. Jon immediately fell to the floor.

  As they fled Isabel’s home, Kale pulled a letter from his vest pocket and threw it onto Isabel’s bed, explaining the situation to Scurvy. There was no name attached the letter, only directions on negotiations for Isabel’s release. Payment in an unspecified amount for his assistance was to be rewarded if he complied.

  The next day Black-Hearted arrived at Port of Errors followed by Roger’s Jolly, only to find the letter of abduction made out to Scurvy and signed by Captain Stirvin lying on Isabel’s bed. Black-Hearted had long known of Captain Daniel Stirvin and all his heroics, but had never met him face-to-face, or so he thought. In a violent rage, Black-Hearted ripped the letter in half and rushed to Mr. Darcy’s, where Scurvy and Captain Garrison were now conducting business, underhandedly as usual. Black-Hearted kicked the door open, cracking it at the hinge and busting in the frame.

  “I’ll kill him Darcy!” exclaimed Black-Hearted. “Who took her? I’ll slaughter him slow and painful!”

  In all the commotion, Mr. Darcy ran to the entry, where Black-Hearted stood. “You broke my door!” he cried. “Did you have to bust apart my new door?”

  “Forget about that shoddy peace of dung!”

  “It’s a nice respectable door,” said Mr. Darcy in a disappointed tone.

  “I don’t care about your blasted door!” shouted Black-Hearted in return.

  Scurvy and Captain Garrison also rushed over and noticed the door hanging on a single hinge. “What happened?” they questioned in unison.

  “Someone took Isabel! It’s Stirvin, I know it is. He must have hired someone to kidnap her!”

  Cresting his voice at a thunderous peak Scurvy added, “She’s my daughter!”

  “I brung no woman into this mess,” added Black-Hearted. “That English cow
ard shall have to pay just the same.”

  Scurvy then inquired, “How’d you know it was Stirvin?”

  Black-Hearted threw the torn letter onto the floor at Scurvy’s feet. “With the letter came a right of safe passage to the London Harbor! No one else but the Queen can offer such a decree.”

  Scurvy pieced the letter together. “It’s addressed to me.”

  “Seems they wish to bargain with you.”

  “Bargain for what? What can I offer them in return for my own daughter?”

  “Read on and you’ll find that it states that they wish for you to turn me in for your daughter’s safe return.”

  “Well this is quite the circumstanciation,” realized Scurvy, with his frustrated and ornate mispronunciation.

  “Actually,” contested Mr. Darcy, interrupting the intensity of the conversation, “this circumstance is better than you realize.”

  “And how so?” asked Black-Hearted.

  “With Scurvy on the inside, you can do a lot more than merely get even.”

  It was no secret that Scurvy Shaw was not the most trust-worthy of characters. But Black-Hearted had no choice but to allow the negotiation to take place if he was ever to see his sweet Isabel again.

  Black-Hearted took Scurvy by the vest and pulled him close, “Betray me and I’ll cut your heart out!”

  Scurvy smiled back. “Hearted, I’m not as foolish and naïve as you would like to think.”

  “We’ll meet up at Raven Bridges five days hence,” ordered Black-Hearted.

  Scurvy quickly took up his sail, hoisting the white flag of neutrality and, with a ready crew, straightway cruised out for England. Arriving at the Port of London, on the River Thames, Scurvy was pleasantly surprised to have had such an easy go of it, thinking he would have been stopped and harassed many time along the way while in English waters.

  Scurvy and Bones exited the vessel and paid the docking fee. Having arrived with time to spare, they waited near Roger’s Jolly for someone to escort them to the Crimson Reef, as indicated by the letter. Awaiting their arrival on the main deck, Captain Stirvin respectfully greeted them as they walked up the plank. Along with a few of his men, Captain Stirvin ushered them to his quarters where they hoped to negotiate a deal.

  “So, where is she, Captain?” asked Scurvy. “Where might my daughter be?”

  “That, I cannot say, but I can assure you, she is safe.”

  “Am I to trust you, her abductor?” questioned Scurvy.

  “I give you my word as a gentleman,” confirmed Captain Stirvin. “I can assure you; your daughter is in a safe place and will soon be under my personal watch.”

  “Alright Stirvin, but if she comes to harm, your entire fleet couldn’t stop me,” warned Scurvy. “Just try me, Captain.”

  “Do you mean to threaten me aboard my own ship, Mr. Shaw? That is very foolish indeed and it is cause enough to nullify our brief truce.”

  “It seems to me, breaking contract is a bit of a habit,” hinted Scurvy, trying to rile Captain Stirvin’s emotions. “I heard about the Spanish vessel attacked in these waters. Aye, says I, seems we’re all pirates at heart, are we not? What was the booty, Sir? Spanish gold I take it?”

  “Don’t test me, Mr. Shaw,” replied Captain Stirvin as he handed him an official document. “Here is your letter of marquee. The Queen has officially commissioned you as a privateer to perform the duty of taking part in the arrest of Black-Hearted the Pirate. You are to bring this Black-Hearted back to England where we intend to hang him. You will accept the Queen’s offer, or suffer your daughter to serve a pirates fate on the gibbet, alongside your own corpse.”

  “Aye, I’ll do anything for monetary compensation,” replied Scurvy with a distasteful grin. “You needn’t have taken the girl. There be nothin’ but silver and gold that truly matter, for the deed you ask of me be done for riches before blood.”

  “You’ll be under the Queen’s command and be mindful; I do speak for the Queen. Do you understand, Mr. Shaw?”

  Scurvy answered in a flippant tone, “Aye, Mr. Stirvin.”

  “You’ll be paid half the ransom upfront, complete with supplies for the journey. You’ll receive the rest once your mission has been carried out in full. Isabel will not be turned over until you locate Black-Hearted or assist in his capture.”

  “Like I said before, the money is enough. Though, the daughter is a welcome reward.”

  The discussion ended with a handshake and the negotiation was made final. But, before departing the Crimson Reef, Scurvy decided to throw things a little more off balance. “There’s one more thing. Something you should know before we part ways, Captain.”

  “Oh and what would that be? And hurry you up; I have business to tend to.”

  “Seems to me there be some rotten apples ‘bout the bunch ‘board your vessel.”

  “And what would a pirate know of the loyalty of my men?”

  “Last week six humbly dressed sailors aptly found their way to Port of Errors. They happened to barter with an acquaintance of mine, offering information about your fleet in exchange for a small chest of silver and gold. Four of these men were from your ship and two from another.”

  “Impossible,” stated Captain Stirvin, “we were on Port Lorne last week.”

  “Oh, and for how many days?” replied Scurvy. “I would venture to guess that only some of your men stayed on Port Lorne. Seems to me you were docked far too long to take proper notice that they were even missing.”

  “Well, if what you say is true, you must know who they are?”

  “I only know one name for certain.”

  “And who might that be?”

  “Does the name Robert Hall bear any meaning of importance to you or your crew?”

  The trust Captain Stirvin had in his own men was now compromised. “Yes, yes it does bear meaning, indeed.”

  Before Summoning Mr. Hall, Captain Stirvin demanded every detail that transpired, to which Scurvy and Bones conveniently divulged. When all the details had been fully laid out, Captain Stirvin asked Scurvy and Bones to stay. Captain Stirvin sent a quick dispatch requesting Admiral Flynn’s presence as soon as possible, knowing he had returned to the Port of London earlier that day and was now aboard the Sentry. In the dispatch, Captain Stirvin explained everything in his own words.

  Upon Mr. Hall’s summons, knowing something was going on, Tweed, Captain Stirvin’s first mate, immediately vanished. When Mr. Hall arrived at the chamber door, he walked calmly in, feeling thick and disconcerting tension.

  “Sir, you requested my presence?” he asked simply and respectfully.

  “Please, have a seat, Mr. Hall,” directed Captain Stirvin with an unexpected firmness. A few guards blocked the exit, causing Mr. Hall to panic slightly within himself.

  Motioning to Scurvy and Bones, before taking a seat, Mr. Hall questioned. “What are they doing here?”

  “That is none of your business, Mr. Hall.”

  “Captain Stirvin, might I ask what this is about?”

  “No, you may not. Now sit down!”

  “Yes Sir,” he replied politely, taking his seat in complete silence.

  Sitting in the unsettling quiet for the next few minutes, Mr. Hall flinched when a loud knock finally came to the door. Admiral Flynn walked in uttering his apologies. “Sorry to keep you waiting, Captain. You may commence at your will. But I cannot promise you I will just sit and listen.” Eyeing Mr. Hall with an unnerving expression, he added, “There is much to say; much to say indeed.”

  Mr. Hall took a deep breath in a flustered sweat. Captain Stirvin began the questioning. “I’ll get directly to the point, Mr. Hall. Last week, I gave implicit orders to stay on Port Lorne while we were docked there. However, Mr. Shaw here tells me you and several others chose to ignore my orders and venture beyond. In fact, they tell me, you were seen on Port of Errors. Please tell me this is not true.”

  The look upon Mr. Hall’s pail continence confirmed the truth of it. Yet, he spoke in defia
nce, stuttering, “Begging your pardon, Sir, but are you going to believe a filthy pirate?”

  “Mr. Shaw is a privateer in the Queen’s command and he is none of your concern at this moment,” replied Captain Stirvin. “Answer the question, Mr. Hall.”

  Mr. Hall started, “Privateer, Pirate, they are all cutthroats, Sir. His intention is to pit us against each another.”

  “Yet you still refuse to answer the question!”

  Admiral Flynn then angrily interjected, “There were six of you. And you will tell us who the other five are!”

  Mr. Hall refused to speak. For the next full minute an uncomfortable silence prevailed. Impatiently, Admiral Flynn stood and back handed him across the face. “You will undoubtedly die for your foolish actions. How you choose to leave this world is up to you. It can be quick and painless or it can be slow and unrelenting!”

  With no way out, Mr. Hall’s heart sank, as he broke his silence and divulged all the names, excluding Tweed. Suddenly Mr. Hall began to heave out half-digested chunks of food. His nose dripped from the outburst as he looked up; his face covered in the filth of it.

  “Who is the last, yet unmentioned, in your rabble of six?” asked Admiral Flynn.