Blacksouls

by Nicole Castroman

  “We sail with the tide. If Alastair’s men are as good as he claims they are, you shouldn’t have any problem.” Teach hoped the squall would blow right past them. Once Teach knew that Anne and the rest of his crew were safe, he wouldn’t look back.

  “All right. I’m to wait with Cara at the sloop. Benjamin will go with you and Alastair to get Anne out. With the governor sick, things might work to our advantage.”

  His gaze firmly fixed on the fort, Teach didn’t say anything.

  “I love her too, you know,” Coyle said quietly.

  Teach turned to stare at him. He would have preferred to dislike Coyle, but there was something agreeable about the Irishman. He was like a younger version of Alastair, with a healthy dose of arrogance. “I know. And I’m grateful for everything that you did for her when I wasn’t there.” But I’m here now.

  Coyle nodded. The two of them regarded each other in total silence, neither one willing to back down.

  “Excellent.” Coyle rubbed the back of his neck, looking at the surrounding ships. “As much as I hate the thought of setting sail again, it will be nice to leave this place behind. We’ve had nothing but trouble since we arrived.”

  If anything happened to Anne, all that trouble would pale in comparison to what Teach would unleash on the governor.

  • • •

  Four hours later, a lieutenant led the way down the now familiar corridor of the fort, the torch in his hand flickering as he moved, causing their shadows to dance along the smooth stone walls. After the fresh night air from outside, the stench of human waste and sweat was enough to bring tears to Teach’s eyes. He’d only spent one day in this place and it made him sick to think of Anne and his men within these walls.

  Four more soldiers accompanied Alastair, who walked behind the lieutenant. Teach and Benjamin brought up the rear, carrying a rough wooden crate between the two of them. The only sound from the crew of the Deliverance was the deep resonance of their snores.

  Alastair hadn’t said much since listening to Teach’s plan to get Anne out of the fort. He was quiet, tormented, no doubt, by his grief. It would be a long time before he came to terms with it. Teach wished he could help Alastair in some way, but Teach was dealing with his own heartache as well.

  The first cell housed five men deep in their slumbers, but they jerked awake when the lieutenant banged on the bars. “All right, now. Look lively.”

  Blinking against the light, the rest of the crew slowly sat up, rubbing their eyes and muttering amongst themselves. Jack Thurston was the first one to set eyes on Teach.

  “Oi, if it isn’t Blackbeard hisself, come down off his throne to visit us.”

  Teach knew Jack meant him no ill will, for Teach had spent quite a bit of time with his men when the governor had allowed him to bring food the last two days.

  “I’ve brought you something,” Teach said. Placing the crate on the floor, he and Benjamin pried the lid back, revealing some clean shirts and breeches. “There’s a storm brewing. If we want to leave before it hits, you’ve got to be ready within the hour.” The fact that the governor wasn’t at the fort definitely worked in their favor. Teach hoped to be aboard the Triumph and gone before Webb discovered that they’d left twelve hours earlier than planned.

  The rest of the men voiced their approval as Alastair and Benjamin began handing out the garments.

  “It’s good to see you,” John said, approaching the bars nearest Teach.

  Teach glanced over his shoulder at the soldiers, but the five men stood several feet away and helped with the distribution of clothing. “I need you to start a fight, John,” he muttered beneath his breath. “I need you to cause a distraction.”

  John raised an eyebrow. “How big a distraction?”

  “Port Royal.” Teach and John had been part of a crew on a merchant ship the year before. After being attacked by Spaniards, they’d barely made it to Port Royal alive. While Teach and John had gone to secure another ship, most of the crew had visited the nearest tavern, intent on draining their pockets on wine and women. Teach later found many of the men deep in their cups and unable to pay the debt they’d accrued. He and John had had no other choice than to start a fight. It had quickly escalated into an all-out brawl, but they’d managed to get their men out of there. The ends had certainly justified the means.

  John winked at Teach. “The boys and I have been feeling a bit restless. It might do us some good.”

  With a nod and a slight smile, Teach stood back. John looked over his fellow crewmen, a calculating look in his eye, until his gaze came to rest on Jack Thurston. Jack was in the cell next to his and was presently taking off his shirt to change into the new one that had been provided. John called Jack over to the bars. Jack strolled over and leaned forward. John whispered something in his ear. Jack jerked away, his face red.

  “Take it back!” Jack yelled.

  John grinned. “I will not. Any more time in here and you’d find your manhood shriveling. It’s a good thing we’re heading out to sea. It will save the fair maidens of Nassau from your wastin’ disease.”

  With a roar, Jack reached through the bars and grabbed John by the collar with one hand while raising his other, but John blocked Jack’s fist with his arm. Several of the men hollered at the two, calling out names and bets on who would win. Teach was surprised at the speed with which the quarrel spread, like a match to a powder keg. It was a good thing his men were all sober at the moment. Even young Matthew joined the fray with zeal.

  The soldiers raced to the bars, yelling at the crew to stop yelling at each other. Alastair motioned for Teach and Benjamin to follow him with the crate. “Bring them to the ship as soon as you can,” Teach cried.

  The harried lieutenant nodded before placing his fingers in his mouth and giving a shrill whistle.

  More soldiers ran down the corridor to their aid, passing Teach and the others. Teach’s heart pounded a deafening rhythm in his ears. Alastair took one of the torches hanging on the wall and strode through the darkened hallways, keeping a fast pace. Teach and Benjamin did their best to keep up with him, despite the unwieldy crate. The sounds of the fight lessened as they turned down a different passageway.

  “What are you doing here?” A solitary soldier approached them, his weapon drawn.

  Alastair slowed only slightly. “Delivering clothing to the prisoners, as ordered. But a fight broke out. You better join your fellow soldiers before it gets out of hand.”

  Teach held his breath. The soldier stood, uncertain, until a loud shout echoed down the corridor. Slipping his musket over his shoulder, he bolted toward the commotion.

  Alastair quickened his pace. “Quickly now. We don’t have much time.”

  “Won’t they be punished?” Benjamin asked.

  “I think the guards will be pleased to see their backs,” Alastair said, and Teach had to agree with him, even though both men knew why Benjamin was concerned. If any slaves had acted out like the crew of the Deliverance, they would have been whipped. Or worse.

  At the end of the corridor, Alastair stopped while Teach and Benjamin placed the crate on the ground. The air here smelled musty, even more so than the rest of the fort. It clearly hadn’t seen as much use as other parts.

  Teach’s pulse raced and he glanced over his shoulder, but there was no sign of any pursuit. Benjamin took the torch while Alastair fiddled with the lock. After only a moment, Alastair pulled the door open and Teach rushed into the cell toward a figure huddled in the corner. His chest turned painfully hollow and he was filled with a dull ache of horror when he saw Anne’s bloody and lacerated back through her shredded blouse. In one hand she clutched her gold pocket watch and in the other was a copy of a book.

  Dropping to his knees, Teach hesitated, helpless to know where to touch her. “Anne,” he whispered hoarsely.

  She moaned, but didn’t open her eyes.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Teach ground out, giving Alastair a cold glare.

  “What
would you have done? When they brought me to her, this had already happened. They wanted to teach me a lesson.”

  “Who?”

  “Webb and his wife. If I’d told you Anne had been whipped, you would have charged in here and put all our lives at risk. I couldn’t let you do that. I know you’re upset, but as I’ve said, this affects more than the two of you.”

  Fighting to remain calm, Teach closed his eyes and drew in a shuddering breath. Alastair was right. Even now, Teach wanted to find the governor and tear him limb from limb.

  “We have to go,” Benjamin said.

  Alastair nodded. “Aye. We have to put her in the crate like we planned.”

  “Not like this,” Teach said, scowling.

  “Aye, exactly like this. And we have to do it now. If you want to get her out of here alive, we can’t waste more time.”

  Benjamin and Alastair moved to help Anne, but Teach pushed them aside. He pocketed the watch and the book before turning her gently. He laid her neck on one arm, scooping up her legs with his other.

  Alastair arranged the canvas they’d brought in the bottom of the crate and Teach lowered her carefully on her side, praying fervently that she wouldn’t wake up. Placing the lid back on top, Teach caught Alastair’s wrist as he lifted the small mallet to nail it back into place.

  “If we drop it, we can’t risk her falling out,” Alastair said.

  “Then we won’t drop it. I won’t have her waking up and thinking she’s in a coffin.”

  Alastair winced, but it was too late for Teach to take it back. Muttering beneath his breath, Alastair heaved one side of the crate in his hands, while Teach took the other side. Benjamin led the way with the torch, and together they walked toward the exit.

  CHAPTER 22

  Teach

  Riding in the back of the wagon, Teach pulled the canvas taut over the crate, trying to protect Anne from the onslaught of rain pouring down from the black sky. A stray drop rolled down her arm and Teach gently brushed it away. He’d removed the lid as soon as they were clear of the fort, its thick walls growing smaller in the distance. Anne still hadn’t wakened.

  Alastair flicked the reins, trying to get the horses to move faster, but the streets of Nassau were slick with mud, and the horses struggled to maintain their footing. Benjamin sat beside him, his shoulders hunched. He looked back every once in a while to make sure they weren’t being followed.

  Anne groaned, and Teach’s soul staggered beneath the blow of seeing her this way. He’d felt helpless before, but never like this. The governor would pay. If his wife didn’t finish him off, Teach vowed he would do the job.

  Alastair let loose a foul curse and Teach sat up, drawing his pistol. In the distance, an orange glow peeked through the night with several soldiers patrolling the docks.

  “That’s my ship,” Alastair growled.

  “Alastair! Alastair!”

  Swinging around, Teach pointed the pistol, only to drop it when he saw Cara rushing out of the shadows to meet the wagon. She was soaked to the skin, and her blond hair hung limply to her shoulders. “Turn around. Now!” Teach helped her scramble into the back of the wagon. She gasped for breath.

  “What happened? Where’s Coyle?” Alastair asked, turning the horses down a side alley. The wagon bumped along the rutted lane, and Teach gripped the sides of the crate, hating the fact that the quick movements jostled Anne.

  “The soldiers took him. Somehow Webb knew we were leaving. Coyle fought with them so I could slip away. They burned the ship.”

  “Blast!” Alastair turned down another road, bringing them parallel with the docks, but going in the opposite direction. “Pelham had a hand in this, but I don’t know how they found out.”

  “Where are we going?” Teach asked.

  “I’m taking you to the Triumph. Then I’ll go back for Coyle. We’ll have to find some other way off the island.”

  “Do you think he knows I’m not going after Easton?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Teach’s hands tightened on the crate. “Anne comes with me.”

  “No!” Cara said at the same time as Alastair spoke: “It’s too dangerous.”

  “It’s even more dangerous if she stays here with you. You’ll have enough trouble going after Coyle. The more time that passes, the more likely they are to discover that Anne’s gone.”

  Cara gazed down at her friend. Frowning, she leaned closer, sucking in a deep breath when she saw Anne’s back. “What happened? Who did this to her?” she asked, her expression horrified.

  “Webb.”

  “She can’t stay in those clothes. They’re filthy. Look how they’re sticking to her back.”

  Teach didn’t have to look to know that the dried blood acted like a glue, adhering Anne’s shredded blouse to her skin. Although there were extra garments in the crate, he hadn’t wanted to remove Anne’s, for fear of hurting her even more.

  Before Teach could stop her, Cara tipped one corner of the canvas inward, allowing the rain water to wash over Anne’s back. Anne winced, but did not wake.

  Cara’s fingers shook as she gently pried the material away from the raw wounds. Teach took one of Anne’s fevered hands in his, watching as Cara continued to work. She gripped Anne’s sleeve and tried to rip it, but the material was wet and Cara was shivering. Teach slid a knife from his left boot and sliced through the fabric before handing it to Cara.

  “How are we going to get Coyle back?” Cara asked her uncle as she exposed Anne’s injuries.

  Teach looked away, his muscles tensed. The desire to find Webb pumped through his veins with a violent force.

  Alastair stayed silent, his jaw clenched. Teach knew he was going over their options, but Teach also knew they were extremely limited.

  “I wish I could help you somehow,” Teach offered, but Alastair was already shaking his head.

  “No. You’re right. You need to get Anne and your men away from here. It won’t do us any good to be stuck here. I’m the one Pelham and Webb want.”

  “I can take Cara with me if you like,” Teach said. “It won’t be easy for her, but it will get her away from Nassau.”

  Cara jerked her head up, her hands stilled over Anne’s skin. “No! I’m not going anywhere without Coyle.”

  Alastair sighed. “Cara, you have to be reasonable—”

  “Uncle, I am not leaving you behind. Together we’ll think of some way to free Coyle.” Cara wiped at her eyes, her expression determined.

  “I can’t run the risk of you getting caught as well,” Alastair said.

  “You can’t do everything alone. I can help. Please. He’s my brother.”

  Running his hand over his face, Alastair sighed in resignation. “All right. Anne will go with Teach. Cara and I will get Coyle. If the governor knew about us trying to leave on my sloop, I dare say he’ll have other ships watched. I might have to call in a few favors with some people to get us out of this blasted place.”

  Cara bit her lip, the tears on her cheeks mixing with the rain. She gave Teach a solemn look. “You’ll take care of Anne for us, won’t you?”

  “With my life.”

  Smiling slightly at Teach’s response, Cara took a portion of her own sodden skirts and gently wiped at Anne’s back. But a wheel hit another hole in the road, and Cara cried out in frustration.

  Teach placed a comforting hand on Cara’s shoulder. “We’ll take her to the captain’s cabin. You can finish once we’re on board.”

  They pulled up beside the bobbing Triumph, ocean water splashing up between the ship and the wharf.

  “I’ll go speak with the port officials,” Alastair said. “I’ll arrange for a pilot cutter to take you out of the shallows. The last thing we need is for you to ground the Triumph as you leave.”

  Grateful for the older man’s assistance, Teach replaced the lid on the crate and slid it toward the back of the wagon before he jumped down and took one side in his hands. Benjamin grabbed the other side and the two of them he
fted it in their arms. Teach backed slowly over the slick plank leading from the dock to the deck as the rain continued to fall. Once they were safely on board, they moved to the stairs leading down to the belly of the ship, but Teach stopped when he saw torches in the distance.

  Cara reached for the crate where Teach held it. “They’re bringing your crew already. We’ll take Anne down. You stay here to meet them.”

  “It’s too heavy for you,” Teach said.

  “I grew up carrying newborn calves on a farm. I’m quite sure Benjamin and I can handle a crate,” Cara said, shouldering Teach aside. “Besides, I wish to tell her good-bye.” Her voice was unsteady, her eyes glittering.

  Teach nodded in understanding. He didn’t see anything wrong with allowing Cara these last few minutes with Anne. “At the bottom of the stairs, turn left. The captain’s cabin is at the end of the hallway.”

  The two of them disappeared, and Teach moved to meet the oncoming party. The soldiers outnumbered the men of his crew.

  Striding to the plank, Teach stopped the lead sergeant from boarding the Triumph. “Where are the rest of my men?” He saw John, but Jack Thurston and several others were noticeably absent.

  The man held his torch aloft and Teach noted the triumphant gleam in his eyes. “The rest of your crew will wait here for you until you return with George Easton.”

  “That wasn’t my agreement with the governor,” Teach said, his voice sharp.

  “The governor has had a change of heart. Don’t worry, you won’t be left short-handed. My men and I will be accompanying you. I’m your new first mate.”

  “I’m not leaving my crew behind.” The thought of Jack, Matthew, and the others spending any more time in those dark cells make Teach sick. And he wouldn’t be there to ensure their well-being.

  “You’re free to speak with the governor tomorrow.”

  They had to leave now or risk being discovered. “Do you even know anything about sailing?” The first mate was second in command to the captain, and like the captain, he never pulled, hauled, or did work with his hands.