Pistoleer: Pirates

by Smith, Skye

  And that was not all that he signed away. There is no longer a Star Chamber court working outside our laws. Parliament can no longer be dismissed by a king without its permission, and, and ... Archbishop Laud has been impeached and is now in the Tower awaiting trial."

  "All of this happened while we were away?" Robert grumbled. "And I missed it all. What about the king?"

  "Charlie is on his way to Edinburgh for the final discussions with the Covenanters about the peace treaty. The English parliament is in recess until he returns."

  "You mean the Scots still don't have a peace treaty?" Daniel whistled in surprise. "Is Alex Leslie still in control of Newcastle, then? Is London still without coal?"

  "Leslie allowed coal to be shipped to London,” Humphrey replied, "so long as Charlie was negotiating, but he took the profits from that coal to pay the Scottish army. And no, he is no longer in Newcastle. He and his army are marching back to Scotland."

  "Parliament in recess. So does that mean all the members have returned to their ridings?" Robert asked. "Does that mean the Wyndham is back here in Bridgwater?" Wyndham was the richest man in Bridgwater and he had cheated Robert out of his seat in this latest parliament.

  This set Daniel wondering about the Cromwells. The family had moved to London when Oliver won his seat representing Cambridge for the second time. Would Oliver be visiting Cambridge? It would be good to speak with him again. "Does that mean that Oliver Cromwell is in Cambridge?"

  "I assume so,” Humphrey replied, offhand. He didn't pay much attention to parliamentarians even though his brother had been one.

  "Strafford ... dead?" Weston woke up slightly as he digested all the news. "That will change a few things in Ireland and Virginia. What of the other villains. What of Robert Rich and Robert Heath? They have a lot to answer for in the Virginias and the Carolinas."

  "If by Rich you mean the Earl of Warwick, it was he who introduced the Bill of Attainder that finished Strafford. He must have truly despised Strafford to do so, for he has made some dangerous enemies in the Royals and the House of Lords. If by Heath you mean the judge from the old Star Chamber, well he is now a high court judge instead. Strange you should ask about him, because I need to talk to Robert about Heath, ugh, in private."

  "Anything you have to say to me about Heath, you can say in front of Tom and Daniel,” Robert said. "Tom carries an urgent message for Heath." Humphrey shot Weston a curious look so Robert explained, "A message from some of the settlers he transported to the Carolinas from the Axholme drainage clearances."

  "That is a shame then Tom, for you just missed Heath,” Humphrey said, "Heath arrived with Lord Wyndham from London and slept the night here in Bridgwater. The gossip is that Heath is on his way to Plymouth to try some poor sod for slandering the King." Humphrey's face went gloomy. "Poor sod, whoever he is."

  "Damnation,” Robert leaped off the bench and began to pace the room.

  "What?" asked Daniel.

  "John Pym, the leader of the Reformers, the MP who accused Strafford of treason,” Robert replied. "He represents Tavistock in parliament, and Tavistock is less than fifteen miles north of Plymouth. With the recess, he will be there now. Damn, damn, damn. Anyone who rids Charlie of Pym will earn himself a dukedom. Do you think it is too late to send a courier to warn him that Heath is on his way?" He looked around at the other men. "What is the time?"

  The men around the kitchen table all went quiet while they estimated the time. The whole house was quiet and there were no sounds from the street or the river. "It is well after midnight,” Robert cursed. "I'll send Samuel on the morning coach." He carried a candle lantern over to a map of Devon that was hanging on the wall, and ran his finger along the roads. "No, not by coach. Sam can still reach Tavistock before Heath if he bypasses Exeter and keeps to the roads north of Dartmoor. Those roads are not sound enough for coaches."

  With one step, Daniel was beside his friend at the map. It was definitely a landlubber map and not a sea chart. There was no concept of scale, or navigation, or points of reference. "How far is Tavistock from here? What ... eighty miles. That's a ride and a half. I suppose Heath would have made it to Exeter by now."

  "That depends on the state of the coach roads. Perhaps to Exeter, but he will surely sleep tomorrow night in Plymouth. There may still be time to warn Pym if someone rides the northern road." Robert looked at the sleepy looking group of men, "If you will excuse me, it seems that I must rise early, so I will say my goodnights." He shook Weston's hand and told him, "Daniel will lead you to your bed."

  * * * * *

  In the morning, Robert's middle brother, Sam, rose early and fetched two of his friends to the house. Each of the three young men saddled up a horse and a spare. They seemed ready and eager for the adventure despite what promised to be a long hard ride to Tavistock. Each of the three were members of the Trained Band that Robert had put together and financed, so each of them was well mounted and well armed with a dragon and a pistol.

  Weston had been gone so long from England that Robert had to explain what the Trained Bands were. "King Charlie is always short of coin due to the cost of keeping so many aristocrats and courtiers in fine palaces. What is left over is grabbed the navy, leaving nothing to pay for a standing, professional army. Instead each town and each great estate is expected to organize and train a militia of local men that the king can draw upon if an army is needed. These local militias are called Trained Bands."

  "The biggest are in London,” Daniel added, "especially since the Army Plot."

  "The Army Plot,” Robert continued, "was when Strafford suggested that his Irish Catholic army march on Westminster and close parliament down, permanently. And by close I mean arrest or kill those in opposition to the King's absolute rule. The result was that many MP's got more involved in their local Trained Bands. Since the official Bridgwater Trained Band is commanded by Lord Wyndham, the king's castellan, I started my own Band.

  To my call for help, over twenty brave men will answer, mounted and carrying pistols." He smiled fondly at Sam and his two friends. "In truth, most of them are the friends of my younger brothers." With a slap to Sam's horse and a wish for a fast ride, he sent the three young men on their way.

  With the warning message on its way to Pym, Robert was free to go with Daniel to the Port office so that Daniel could confirm the Swift's registry. The port 's Master Attendant was not pleased that there was no ship to step aboard, and he did not accept Daniel's assurance that the ship was afloat and in good order and docked at Lyme. At least, not until Robert Blake, whose father had once been the Mayor of the town, slipped him some coins.

  With that errand successfully completed, the two men walked directly home in hopes that the noon meal would still be on the table. The direct route was along the banks of the river and thus they surprised five well dressed and well armed riders who were sitting on still horses and spying on the Blake house from the other side of the orchard.

  "Good sirs,” the eldest of the riders called out. "Can you tell us if that is the home of the honorable Robert Blake."

  Daniel was immediately on his guard and his right hand calmly moved towards the butt of his double barreled dragon. Robert stepped in front of Daniel and opened both his hands to the strangers to show that they held no weapons, and then said, "Have I changed so much in six months that you no longer recognize me, Robert Rich. Good health and good day to you. Will you and your companions join us for food and drink?"

  At the friendly welcome, the Earl of Warwick and his four lifeguards visibly relaxed, and then dismounted so they could lead their horses along the orchard path and past the kitchen garden to the house. The two Roberts walked together and the elder man told him softly, "I have sensitive news for you Robert. Urgent news. Is your companion your man?"

  Blake motioned for Daniel to catch up and then he did a very quick introductions with a simple, "Daniel, you must remember Robert Rich, the Earl of Warwick. Robert, I think you have met Captain Daniel Vanderus before in
London. Daniel has done some good turns for the Reformers. He is the man with connections in the Netherlands who sell pistols at good prices."

  "A good man to know then." Warwick took a good look at Daniel's face until he recollected him, then he told him, "we must talk more, but not now." He turned back to Blake. "Robert, I was just in Bristol seeing to some Company business, when I heard some disturbing gossip. I have come to warn you that Robert Heath is at large and up to no good. No good for Reformers at any rate. I suggest that you go carefully and have men watch your back."

  "I heard the same news last night. Heath passed through Bridgwater on his way to Plymouth. My fear is that Heath is hunting John Pym, so I have sent three good men to Tavistock carrying a warning."

  "But Pym is still in London,” Warwick replied. "He has a sickness of the gut that requires a physician's care, so he did not return to his riding. Hmm, but the King's spies must know that, so why is Heath on his way to Plymouth?"

  Blake stopped in his tracks and cursed, "Shit!" The sudden stop had Daniel and Warwick bumping into him, and the curse had the four lifeguards who were leading the horses, saying they were sorry and they backtracked to kick some horse droppings off the path and into the kitchen garden. Blake grabbed the Earl by the arm and hissed, "William Strode will be with his family in Bere Alston. That is but five or six miles from Plymouth."

  "Of course!" Warwick exclaimed. "Poor Strode. He has already spent a third of his life in prison for speaking out against Charlie."

  "Who is Strode?" Daniel asked.

  "The MP whose wit and logic ripped Strafford's defense apart in court," Warwick replied. "The MP who pushed to have all of the Lords who had conspired with Strafford in the 'Army Plot' to be tried with Strafford."

  "I am a fool,” Blake moaned. "I sent my brother Sam to warn Pym in Tavistock, but I never gave a thought to Strode. Sam could have continued on the ten miles south to Bere Alston after Tavistock. If Pym were in Tavistock, he could have sent his own warning to Strode, but Pym is in London, so Sam will have made a long hard ride for naught, and turn around and come home never knowing about Strode. I am such a fool. Strode is not a man of means, so he will be alone with his family. Even if we rode for Strode this minute, we would not reach him in time."

  "There's another way,” Daniel said softly. "The Swift is in Lyme with a full crew, armed and able. If we ride now we can be in Lyme before dusk, board the Swift and wake up in Plymouth."

  "Assuming fair winds,” Warwick added.

  "Fair winds or not, we will wake up in Plymouth. She ain't called the Swift for nothing."

  "I'll have the women pack up our lunches and ask my brother to saddle our horses and we will be away,” Blake said over his shoulder, already trotting towards the house to speak with his family. His straight shoulders and steady pace showed he was set on the mission.

  "Make that lunches for three. Weston will be coming with us." Daniel called out.

  "Make that lunches for eight,” Warwick called out, "for I smell adventure and I haven't stood on a pitching deck for far too long."

  Weston could not believe his ears that instead of catching the next Bristol coach to be reunited with his family after ten long years, he would be traveling to Plymouth on the Swift. He lost his temper and lashed out at the first thing that came to hand ... the plate of mashed turnips that one of the women was carrying out from the kitchen to place on the long outdoor table. The plate crashed to the ground and caused everyone to stare at Weston.

  Daniel and he exchanged some heated words. The harsh words stopped when Daniel hissed into Weston's ear, "You swore a blood oath to Alf Hancock in the Carolinas that you would do for Robert Heath. This is your chance to keep that oath and be done with it, so by the gods, you are coming."

  It was not the words that caused Weston to back down and agree, but how Daniel's soft blue eyes had turned hard and grey when he spoke those words. There was murder in those eyes. He meekly apologized to the woman and then bend to help her clean up the mess he had caused.

  * * * * *

  The crew had been but a day ashore in Lyme after six months and thousands of miles at sea. Those from Lyme had spent just one night with their loved ones, and those from Bridgwater had not even made it home yet. They were not pleased to be rounded up for a voyage along the coast to Plymouth. No matter how Robert explained the urgency to them, they were digging their feet in like stubborn mules.

  "Fine,” Daniel interrupted Robert's pleading. "You can't blame them for not signing on, Rob. They have good reason. Never mind, it will take us but a few hours of walking through Lyme to collect a new crew. The new crew will be pleased enough that they signed on, once they have a chance to sail with the new Bermudan rig."

  The words had every man in the crew looking at his mates, and then discussing things with those same mates. If others in Lyme found out about the new rig, then their advantage at profiting from the rig would be gone. The price of unused boats would leap. A thousand miles of dreaming about re-rigging local craft and running them to France for profit, will have been for naught. Moments later they had all arranged to meet back at the Swift after they had gathered their gear.

  The Swift left Lyme's tiny port under the sweep of oars, so as not to show their wondrous Bermudan rig to the rest of Lyme's seamen. Four of the crew had been legless and thus left behind in Lyme. No one wanted to spend the voyage cleaning up what the swells would bring up in them.

  The departure had been quick because the ship had not yet been unloaded. Its home was in the Fen's, another weeks sail from here. Interestingly the crew stopped complaining once they heard the reason for the journey to Plymouth. They all were party to Weston's oath 'to do fer' Robert Heath, the man behind the outrages they had heard about in the Carolinas.

  Once around the point and out of sight of Lyme's port, the crew hoisted the sails and then trimmed them for the first long tack. The first leg to Plymouth was southwest to Start Point, ten miles beyond Dartmouth, but southwest was directly into the wind so Daniel set a course south into open sea. He would stay this course for perhaps four hours and then make another long tack due west. Start Point had a good light, and sometime after midnight they would see that light and adjust the course accordingly.

  Meanwhile, once the sails were set, there was not much to do but rest in preparation for what tomorrow and Plymouth would bring. Unless there was a change in wind, three men were all the crew needed for the first tack, two on the wheel and one on bow watch.

  "I thought you told me the Swift was a lateen galliot,” Warwick said to Blake.

  "Well she used to be,” Blake replied.

  "She still is,” Daniel told Warwick. "You saw how fast she was under oar, and now under sail. All we did was change the way the lateen sails were rigged."

  "But this ... this is fantastic,” Warwick replied as he stared in wonder at the simplicity and the efficiency of the rig. "As a young man I traveled the seas a lot and now I own more than a dozen ships, but never have I seen a rig like this before. Outstanding. All of the benefits of a lateen but without the clumsiness."

  Daniel sighed. The first stranger they had let aboard since the Swift had been re-rigged in Bermuda and already their secret was out. Worse than that. Out to one of the wealthiest men in the kingdom. A man who the governor of a host of trading companies which ran fleets of ships. "If you have not seen this rig before, then you cannot be the same Earl Warwick who controls the Somers Isle Company that runs Bermuda."

  "I am that man and I do control the patent for Bermuda. I do indeed, but what does that have to do with this ship?"

  Daniel had almost let it slip that the rig was called a Bermudan, but he swallowed his words just in time. "Ahh, never mind, just making sure is all. You'd all better get some rest before tomorrow. I'll be down as soon as the course and the watch is set." He gave Blake a bent eye to warn him not to tell any stories about Bermuda. Blake nodded and followed Weston and their five guests down the stairs from the steering castle. Eac
h of them in turn clobbered their heads on the low beams inside the command cabin, all except for Blake who did not even need to stoop.

  The ceiling of the cabin was less than six feet, and lower under the beams. This ship had been built in a place were men were shorter. Blake was the only man who could stand without stooping, so Warwick and his lifeguard stood only long enough to take off their cloaks and boots and belts before sitting down on the sleeping mats. They were all dog tired for it had been a long day with much riding.

  The guests soon learned to plant their feet against something down the tilt of the deck, as well as to hang on to anything that may roll or slide away from them, like the cups of best rum that Blake was pouring for them. "With fore-and-aft sails you must get used to a slanted deck during the tacks,” he told them, "especially on a small ship such as this. A square rigged ship never heals so much because she can't sail so close to the wind. It's the price of speed that we willingly pay."

  "What was Daniel saying about Bermuda?" Warwick asked. He already knew that this ship had just returned from the Americas where they had been dropping passengers and exploring for likely places to settle.

  "Oh, just that we were there not three weeks ago. We liked the island a lot, and it is on Daniel's list of islands that he may move his entire clan to."

  "Well you don't need my permission to do that. The governor is always excusing his lack of profit with the complaint that the island has no true settlers, just castaways, fishermen, and would-be pirates. What other islands did you visit? Have you ever heard of the Island of Providence. I would pay him to take his clan there."

  "I assume that you don't mean the Providence close to Rhode Island. As for the other, it is too close to the Spanish Main-land. The colony there has the same problems with privateers that we experienced first hand in the Virgin Islands."

  "Which is?"

  "So long as the privateers pose a threat to Spanish ports and fleets, the true colonists will not be safe from Spanish raids. The Spanish need to defeat the privateers is creating endless problems for those who wish to setting in the Caribbean. None of them want to put their women and children at risk of being captured by the privateers or by the Spanish, for either way they would be enslaved, or worse."