“I can only hope some good might come of this,” replied Kenneth.
When Mr. Black unlocked and opened the door, Kenneth was surprised to see such an attractive woman, though drenched in tears. But, he did not center his thoughts on her beauty, keeping in mind his true love, and therefore kept his composure. “So, what can you tell me about your father? He’s a friend of Black-Hearted, is he not?” Isabel said nothing. Kenneth felt sympathetic toward her situation, but knew his own involvement with Black-Hearted’s capture was more important to his career than anything else. He apologized, “I’m sorry things have to be this way. I do not wish to see you or any other woman in this situation. However, it has become necessary and I do not expect you to understand.” Kenneth stood up and began to walk toward the door. Just before exiting the room he vowed, “I can promise you one thing; I will make your circumstances here easier to bear.”
As the days passed, Isabel grew kinder toward Kenneth. He began to visit her more often than allowed. They talked not only of Black-Hearted and Scurvy, but of their lives and dreams. An innocent trust seemed to form between them as a forbidden friendship began to blossom.
In the coming days As the Crimson Reef sailed on to find the Rogue and Kenneth gained Isabel’s trust, Isabel soon expressed to him that Black-Hearted often sought for spiritual direction from an old acquaintance by the name of Father Morgan. Though Isabel did not know where Father Morgan lived, she seemed hopeful that such a man could be tracked down.
Captain Stirvin’s curiosity concerning Father Morgan brought back to his mind Father Whittaker, who directed both him and his best friend Davy, to visit a priest by the same name in a place called the Brier Wood. Captain Stirvin found this coincidence slightly odd and it heightened his sense of urgency to find him.
Named for its abundance of rosy brier patches and surrounding groves of trees, the Brier Wood was isolated from the rest of the world. Captain Stirvin knew they were close enough to investigate. Captain Stirvin ordered the ship’s navigator to reset their bearings, realizing the Brier Wood was located somewhere on the outskirts of St. Petersborough. Once they arrived, Captain Stirvin chose five men to accompany him on his trek inland to find this isolated township of approximately six hundred.
Captain Stirvin was unfamiliar with the area and knew not how to find the Brier Wood. They directed their paths toward the nearest church, thinking that a priest might be conscious of Father Morgan’s possible existence and whereabouts.
Upon finding such an individual, they were directed to a location hidden within boundaries of ghostly superstitions, where none dared venture. Without fear, Captain Stirvin and his men set out on foot for the Brier Wood.
When they arrived at the borders of the Brier Wood they were greeted by a few townsmen who came out to investigate their uninvited guests. Mayor Aden Longfellow was the first to be introduced. “Gentlemen, what sort of business have you in our humble little township?”
“I wish to speak with Father Morgan,” replied Captain Stirvin, “if he still lives.”
“What sort of business requires our priest?” Mayor Longfellow inquired in a defensive tone. “I can assure you that we support Queen Anne. However, the people of this village have been through enough. So, I must ask, what is the nature of your business with Father Morgan? And be aware; we are ready to defend what little we have with our very lives!”
In disbelief of their blatant disregard for his authority, Captain Stirvin felt to put these townsmen in their place. But, knowing they must be apprehensive for a reason, he put his feelings of flagrancy aside. “Mayor, we mean no harm. A moment of his time is all that is required.”
Mayor Longfellow lowered his guard. “It is a hard thing these days to trust anyone, Captain. Too many of our sons have been pressed into your navy unwillingly and we already number so few. Privateers also come seeking volunteers. What else are we to do? They plunder our homes if we decline! Are we to just stand by and watch our peaceful settlement disappear?”
“I suppose I understand but let me assure you, I come only to speak with Father Morgan.”
“You and your men will have to hand over your weapons.” demanded Mayor Longfellow. “I, in return, shall personally escort you to Father Morgan.”
“I shall go alone. But my men will stay here and retain their weapons,” agreed Captain Stirvin. “It is their right and duty under Royal Command.”
Mayor Longfellow, with a few townsmen, escorted Captain Stirvin in to the Brier Wood. Upon entering the seemingly empty and abandoned township, Captain Stirvin noticed a few frightened faces peeking out from several hiding places.
They arrived at a small church building in the center of town. It was quaint and mildly run down. There were fallen leaves scattered about the dirty walkway and steps. A large brass knocker hung from the center of the door. “Here we are, Captain.” One of the townsmen reached for the door and pushed it open. “We’ll have to accompany you inside, I hope you don’t mind.”
Father Morgan was a true worshiper and wore the usual garb. He was an odd-looking frail old man in poor health, with hands unusually large for a man of his height. Though he did not stand very tall, he was very nearly three-hundred pounds and slightly hunched over. He could barely walk ten feet before he had to relieve himself, which was an unusually artful and swift bowel movement to relieve the pain caused by a gastro-intestinal ailment.
After proper introductions, Captain Stirvin stated, “I have been charged by Her Royal Majesty, Queen Anne, to capture Black-Hearted the Pirate.”
Father Morgan stared for a few seconds, grinning in disbelief. “You were an orphan, were you?”
“For eight years,” he replied.
“Your given name is Daniel, is it not?”
Captain Stirvin explained, “Once I was taken in, my parents gave me this name. In the orphanage I went by Joseph. ”
Father Morgan passed gas with an irreverent excitement. “Joseph? Your name was Joseph?”
“I’ve not heard that name in so long. Why is my name of such significance to you, old priest?”
“I think I’ve something for you,” claimed Father Morgan, clearing his scratchy voice. “Something that appeared to be of great worth, or so it seemed to the other lad.”
Father Morgan stood slowly up and waddled over to his library. Captain Stirvin could hear the sound of books falling to the ground, paper ripping and a few cries of pain from objects striking Father Morgan’s head as he rummaged through the years of clutter. This continued for several minutes as Captain Stirvin, Mayor Longfellow and the townsmen stood in wait.
Father Morgan soon burst out of the library having finally found the item he was searching so diligently for.
The frail old man then placed a relic of some sort wrapped within a crinkled piece of old papyrus “This was intended for you.”
When Captain Stirvin unfolded the paper, a chill crawled up his back. Closing his eyes, Captain Stirvin spoke in a calm whisper. “I know this relic. But it cannot be. He died in a fire years ago. I saw the bodies.” He opened his eyes, still refusing to look, “Where did you come upon this cross?”
“He’s not dead,” replied Father Morgan. “He left it with me, not five years ago, for proof to your knowing, Joseph.”
“How often do you see him?” asked Captain Stirvin.
“Every four or five months, without fail, he asks if you have come by. But now, I can finally give a proper reply.”
Captain Stirvin contained his emotions, stating, “I love Davy like a brother and I will return; there’s now no question about that. But right now I am here on the Queen’s business. There is a certain pirate that I must turn my attention to and in so doing, must ask you, Father, have you been in the company of Black-Hearted?”
“He is a recent acquaintance, but I dare not say more.”
“This man has sparked a dooming war between England and Spain. To keep such information from me is contradictory to the security of our country.”
“Captain, there is
more to it than matter of security. I can sense the vengeance within your heart. There is a higher power by which I am held and to allow such reckless hate would be contradictory to that higher power.”
“Father, you have given me a hope long lost in a boyhood dream that I thought was dead,” said Captain Stirvin, as he handed the necklace back to Father Morgan. “I will leave this with you as promise of my return. However, upon my return, if I have not succeeded in my plight, I will not be as forgiving as I am today in my leave.”
“Please here me, Captain. I must tell you something that happened long ago and which has tied our fates together. You may not understand now, but if you stay a few more days, my story will make more sense.
“Years ago, before I was a priest, a warrant for my arrest was issued by King Charles for the wrong I’d inflicted upon others. But when England waged war on Spain I was forgiven of my crimes and knighted a privateer. I was later placed Governor over the island settlement of Jamaica. However, I still had such wicked enemies; enemies who would stop at nothing to see me and any of my family dead. Such was a young pirate by the name of Shawn Averson. He had once been a loyal member of my crew, but had since become captain of his own. After some time, he grew suddenly ill and almost died along with many of his crew. I wouldn’t help him for fear of death. He also had an insatiable appetite for riches; riches that I hid from him following a significant raid. So, he vowed to take my life no matter the cost. He killed my daughter. Your priest, Father Whittaker, helped me disappear, but in so doing, forced me to forsake my only son in order to save his life. I had to fake my own death, using a potion that slowed my heart and pulse.
“Ever since that day I have vowed to change my ways. I serve only God now. It is better to rid yourself of this hate. And so, I tell you in good faith that hunting your man down should be for the right reasons. You must open your eyes to all the facts before you can do this.”
Captain Stirvin had an understanding heart, but his will to avenge the crown and his good name was strong. “Whether for the right or wrong reason,” he replied, “this man deserves nothing but a slow and agonizing death. The world will be a better place without Black-Hearted.”
“Please, Captain, I understand your unquenchable hatred for such a man, having been laden with such evil upon my own heart. But, I beg you, stay a few days longer and your friend will return. Only then will you understand my dilemma in telling you more.”
“Father, I can’t make such a promise. If I find Black-Hearted, I will destroy his vessel and run him through with my own sword. Beside the news of Davy, capturing Black-Hearted myself is the only thing that will save your life for not cooperating.”
In that moment, without a word more, Captain Stirvin was gone. He quickly met up with his men at the boarder of the Brier Wood and without delay, departed in haste for the Crimson Reef. With the wind in their favor, they were then on their way to Port Lorne
Chapter XII
Within the high and broad walls of North Cove, the bay was calm and serene. The moonlight cascaded brightly down, shimmering upon the cold, pitch-black body of water. North Cove was partially secluded and totally devoid of people. With over a dozen or so sea-caves within the walls of the bay, a small ship, such as a sloop, could easily hide.
Sailing cautiously into North Cove, Don Reina, Royal Hawkins and Brent Sherman needed to regroup with Mr. Hall and his best friend Tweed as was planned in the case of failure. Corazón del Mar entered North Cove through the only opening on the northern side of the island, opposite Port Lorne. Surrounded by walls of rock, they could hear the soft echo of the sea off the inner walls of the cove.
Corazón Del Mar, with lowered the sails, rowed toward the eastern side of the cove where she dropped anchor
That evening, before the sunlight was completely gone, a large frigate baring an English flag entered North Cove closest to the hiding place of Corazón del Mar, where she sat unnoticed in the dark. Two shots aboard this English vessel were fired into the air. Don and the remaining traitors awoke, startled by the sudden and unexpected intrusion. Standing at the starboard gunwale of this ominously frigate, was Sir Fouste and Mr. Robert Hall. The tenacious worry could be seen upon Mr. Hall’s face. Upon the hull of the ship could be read the Blue Raven, prompting Corazón del Mar to come out from her hiding place. An expression of relief could be read upon the countenance of those on board Corazón del Mar.
When Don Reina and Mr. Hall’s men boarded Sir Fouste’s ship, they saw Tweed’s face wrapped in his own blood soaked shirt, with nothing to dull the excruciating pain as he grew paler. He was still awake, but with fever and he shook the shirt from his face exposing his vile wound, which began to bleed excessively. Becoming lightheaded, Tweed fell into the skiff unconscious.
Don Reina and Mr. Hall stood at the bow discussing their situation. “You may have failed in this one thing,” suggested The Don, “but you can still come out of this as rich men. Put this behind you and concentrate on getting me to France.”
“Look at us!” replied Mr. Hall. “Besides myself, only three of my men live and one of them is dying! I’ll have that pirate’s filthy black heart for what he did to me and my men.”
Don Reina was afraid and unwilling to sacrifice more. “I need to make it to France alive! There is nothing more we can do save only suicide and that is exactly what you are asking me for!”
“You can complete your journey with Mr. Hall and his men as they have promised,” interjected Sir Fouste, as he sauntered over to them. “That is the price I ask for Black-Hearted’s life.”
“You ask the Don for no money?” asked Mr. Hall. “What is in it for you and why are you so eager?”
“I have more invested than you could possibly imagine and I already have a plan in place. But this plan involves the Don’s successful journey to France. However, it has been widely rumored that Queen Anne has cut all ties to her previous privateers. She will no longer sponsor my ship and in fact intends to have me hanged. I am running low on supplies and with limited backing, this has become my only resolve. So the deed will not be without monetary costs”
“I am not against Black-Hearted’s capture,” confirmed Don Reina. “He destroyed my ship, killed my crew and insulted me! If I can sail to France unharmed and yet be of assistance in the capture of Black-Hearted, I am more than willing to finance the expedition. But, you must be willing to work as a privateer under the command of King Philip of Spain.”
“Tweed will not survive the journey to France,” added Mr. Hall, “Please keep him on. You have a good surgeon.”
Sir Fouste agreed with his own stipulation, motioning toward Don Reina as the subject of their discussion. “Mr. Hall, you must assure the Don that he will fulfill his mission to France.” Then, looking directly at Don Reina, who was in notable agreement, Sir Fouste continued as though he was speaking directly to him. “He must deliver the contract.” Looking back at Mr. Hall, he concluded, “But once the task is complete, you must return for one last mission. If you want Tweed to live, you will be quick about it.”
Once all were in agreement, Tweed was left in Sir Fouste’s care. Mr. Hall and his men took Don Reina and departed on Corazón del Mar for France to deliver Don Reina.
Chapter XIII
While the Rogue and Roger’s Jolly sailed for Raven Bridges, Black-Hearted spied a large sloop, approaching from the East. Pulling out his telescope, he unexpectedly discovered Corazón del Mar proudly waving her colors on her way to France from North Cove. Looking out to where he might best cut her off, Black-Hearted realized that Widow’s Reef sat close to the potential intersection of their crossing. Motioning to Captain Garrison, Black-Hearted plotted their assault.
Shocked at the sight ahead, Don Reina panicked. This happenstance meeting was not looking very good for Corazón Del Mar. With a strong determination to continue on to France, Mr. Hall advised Don Reina, “We must try and make a wide pass around them or we’ll never make it to France alive.”
“If we ha
dn’t stopped at Port of Errors in the first place to satisfy your wounded pride,” replied Don Reina, “we should not have been sailing out of North Cove at this moment and therefore in this predicament! We would have been dining safely in France and all six of your companions would have been with us instead of dead or badly wounded.”
“We cannot change the past. If you wish to complete your mission, we can still sail around them. This vessel is fast and maneuverable. We can do this if we commit to it now.”
Don Reina’s first instinct was to escape the English Channel all together and sail back to Spain, where he might venture to Paris by land and complete an untimely mission. However, against his better judgment and nervous to give the order, Don Reina commanded the pilot to continue on toward their destination at a slightly altered trajectory. As the ships neared, Don Reina and Mr. Hall grew nervous, yet faithfully kept their course.
“Ready the starboard guns!” commanded Black-Hearted.
Now too close and without a clear way around, Corazón del Mar found herself within range of attack.
“Fire!” ordered Black-Hearted. But the shot came ten yards shy. He needed to get closer.
Don Reina and Mr. Hall began to panic when they saw Roger’s Jolly making its move from the other side of the Rogue. Mr. Hall ordered his men, “Turn this ship windward!” By the time their sloop turned part way it was too late. Roger’s Jolly was too close. In a panic they fired their pistols and long barrels.
Ordering a massive broadside, Captain Garrison fired. In an instant all cannons on the starboard side exploded into one powerful blow. Corazón del Mar’s gunwale was splintered at the stern.
Captaining Don Reina’s sloop, Mr. Hall fired back with three spontaneous blasts, damaging Roger’s Jolly near the quarterdeck. Mr. Hall then thought to ram his way out, sailing directly ahead in a collision course with Roger’s Jolly. Captain Garrison’s men were at the bow firing their pistols and muskets, when they realized they were about to be rammed. Captain Garrison took a step back and called to the helm, “Turn this ship portside! Brace for an impact!”
Port of Errors Page 15
