Bring It Close (31 page)

Nineteen

Several times at breakfast Tiola had glanced sideways at Perdita. She ate virtually nothing and the signs that she had been weeping were clear, even to the blindest fool. Tiola counted Governor Eden as the head of the list in that category. The matter of Perdita’s marriage to Tobias Knight had arisen at the wedding. Knight had come right out with it, publicly announcing the forthcoming arrangements. Nobody had thought to ensure that Perdita had been pre-warned of her engagement, she had found out from a delighted family on their return to Archbell Point.

Tiola assumed the tears, the obvious sleepless night, were for the devastation the girl felt, but come mid-morning when everyone was soundly dozing in various chairs or beds after an extensive luncheon, she went in search of the girl. Found her where she guessed she would be, in the lovers’ trysting place in the clearing beside the river. Perdita was sitting beside the tumbledown hut, her back against the rotting wood of the wall. It only took Tiola to sit beside her and take her hand for the story to flood out, accompanied by fresh sobs of despair. Perdita was desperate to confide in a friend.

Jonathan had gone. Outraged that another may steal the one he loved, he had left a note to say he had taken ship with a crew and would be back in a month or two with a fortune.

“He has joined Teach,” Perdita wailed, the sobs choking her throat. “I know he has. He will be caught and hanged and then what shall I do?”

Comforting her was difficult, for she was probably right. The fool! Oh the silly, stupid fool!

“I was going to speak with you,” Tiola said, annoyed with herself that she had not done so before now. This was her fault. Had she spoken, this would not have happened. “When my husband comes for me…”

“Husband?” Perdita whipped her head up. “You said husband?”

Another confession. “
Ais
. I did. Jesamiah had some personal business to attend here. We took the opportunity to marry in secret. And before you say it, we were wed in the way of my belief, beneath the witness of the stars. When he comes to fetch me I intend to ask if he will take you and Jonathan to Williamsburg. I have some money aboard his ship – I would like to purchase a tailor’s shop for you both.”

Perdita was almost speechless. “You would do that for us?”

Tiola nodded. “No couple who are in love should be parted. All we have to do is persuade your foolish
amour
that life as a pirate is not a good choice.” She patted Perdita’s hand. “Jesamiah will find him, look after him, I am sure.”

Relieved, and with too much on her mind, Perdita asked no awkward questions. She twisted the linen handkerchief between her fingers. “I must marry Jonathan. I cannot wait to become Mr Knight’s wife next May.” Said in a rush, “My flux has not come.”

Ah!

Tiola smiled, said tactfully, “It is only a few days since you lay with Jonathan, my dear.”

“I know, I may just be late but I have never been so before. Usually to the hour I start to bleed.”

With gentleness Tiola laid her hand above Perdita’s womb and searched with her Craft for the energy of life. It was there, minute, very new, barely more than a spark, but there.

Perdita placed her hand over Tiola’s. “It is only a matter of days, but I am certain that I am with child. Please do not say that I could not possibly know this, for I do. I carry my beloved Jonathan’s son. And I will have this child and wed no one but his father.”

From beyond the trees, in the direction of the house, a woman’s scream rose hysterically in pitch – Elizabeth-Anne? Tiola jumped to her feet. “Stay here. I will go.”

“Do you think it is the babe?” Perdita was also standing, anxious. “Elizabeth-Anne may need us both.”

“No!” Tiola said too sharply. She took Perdita’s hand, squeezed it. “Please, trust me. Stay here for a few minutes, then follow slowly.” She smiled, touched the girl’s belly. “Just in case. We want nothing to startle your child.”

A cart was drawn up on the gravel drive before the front door. Everyone from the house was gathered around: the women, the servants, even the men were weeping.

Without going near, Tiola knew what burden lay there. Someone had found Mary Ormond’s body.

Twenty

With the wind against them and after several hours of laborious tacking, the
Adventure
had sailed less than halfway down the Pamlico River.

Jesamiah had asked, cajoled and ordered Teach’s crew into working as a team, but had given up. Trying to explain they would not miss stays so often if they all hauled at the same time and in the same direction was like squeezing blood from a stone. How in the love of God these men had ever managed to capture a Prize, he did not know.

When Teach himself ambled on deck, beard combed and looking as fresh as a daisy sprouted in the middle of a pigsty, Jesamiah hoped the men would rally a little. When they had to tack again and a scuffle broke out for’ard, he realised it to be a forlorn hope.

“Why the Navy is so damned scared of you I cannot imagine,” he grumbled after Teach had stared at the flapping sails and tapped the hourglass a few times. No sand trickled from the top to the bottom, for the glass was cracked and damp had got in. The fine-powdered sand was a dark, solid mass wedged into the narrow centre. The thing was useless.

“Thee bain’t seen us in action, have thee though?” Teach was now staring at the shore, not particularly interested in what his men were or were not doing.

“I am not certain I wish for that pleasure. Do any of these imbeciles actually know what ‘haul’ means?”

Edward Teach was not listening. He called for Israel Hands, who came running up from below.

“Cap’n?”

“Did any one of thee stop to think about water?”

Hands scratched at a louse in his hair. “We had full kegs a few days ago.”

“A few days? A few days! There bain’t be more’n two kegs of green muck down there! We bain’t shipped water fer more’n a month!”

Israel Hands shouted back at him, “It ain’t my job t’see t’the water! You shot Black Nero, it were ‘is job to keep an eye on the bloody stuff!”

“An’ it bist thy job to replace him!”

Laconically, Jesamiah folded his arms and leant against the taffrail. “You can either stand there and argue, Teach, or do something about the fact that we will be hitting the bank in less than five minutes.”

Looking up sharply, Teach saw Jesamiah was right and issued a string of orders at full voice.

Ten minutes later, Jesamiah had to admit that perhaps this slovenly crew did have something in them after all. One broadside from Teach and they scuttled like beetles from beneath an up-ended rock. Another fifteen minutes; with a minimum of fuss, they were moored and the men were swaying the empty water kegs ashore and heading into the woods in search of a freshwater stream, which Teach said they would find beyond a stand of trees. Israel Hands, Jesamiah noticed, was carrying Mary Ormond’s clothing.

Quiet settled on the river when every one of the men had gone ashore. Jesamiah took the opportunity to explore the ship; he had intended to have a thorough inspection, but after twenty minutes came back on deck where Teach was sitting, dozing.

“Finished pokin’ and pryin’, have thee?”

“I’ve seen wrecks in better condition than this sloop.”

“I had a perfickly good ship ‘til thee ran her aground.”

“You and your men scuppered the
Queen Anne’s Revenge
, not me. From what I’ve seen of their slovenliness, I‘m not surprised you lost her.”

“They bain’t lubbers, Acorne. Tell ‘em as what be needed an’ they get on with it. They as don’t need wet-nosed nursing. We’ll get a better vessel soon as we can, but we bain’t keen on thy kind of orders aboard the
Adventure
.” He did not add that he hoped, soon, to hold the proud claim of being the new captain of the
Sea Witch
.

Jesamiah nodded. It was so on many a pirate ship where the captain took command only during a Chase. Decisions were made democratically with a vote taken after general discussion; the men working together with the barest of effort, able to sail a ship whether drunk or sober. That was the allure for many of them: the freedom to do as they pleased. Although here, aboard the
Adventure,
it was a false freedom. The men could do what they wanted – as long as Teach approved.

“I keep ‘em tha wrong side of sober deliberate,” Blackbeard confided, pulling the sea chest he had been sitting on out from the encroaching shade. He removed his coat, sat, tipped his face to the warmth of the sun. “Don’t get as much lip that way.”

“You mean sober, one or two of them just might find the courage to oppose you.”

Teach made no reply.

Jesamiah was inspecting the box where various pennants and colours were kept. Most of them were ragged and stained. He shoved them back, not bothering to fold them neatly. A couple of seams along the decking were splitting open, he noticed. “When did you last have the men holystone this deck?” he asked; then, “And are you aware the rudder chain is loose?”

“Got any more comments?”

“Aye. Not one of those lazy buggers has bothered coiling the anchor cable correctly, the thing’s rotten and you’ve more rats and fleas in your hold than ballast.”

“A few rats don’t bother me.”

“Don’t bother me either, but it ain’t good t’be havin’ so many.”

“Leave it, Acorne, or I might decide t’shoot thee now instead o’ later.”

The men were returning. Making a lot of noise, but without much fuss the filled kegs of water were brought aboard and stowed. Teach stayed where he was, soaking up the late afternoon sunshine, but even though his eyes were apparently closed Jesamiah had the feeling he was watching every movement. A feeling confirmed when one of the last kegs to be swung aboard was dropped. It fell to the deck and split open, water sluicing everywhere.

“Who let this boy aboar’?” Teach questioned as he got up and swaggered down into the waist. He stopped before Jonathan Gabriel and poked his shoulder, “What I be wantin’ with a tailor? Eh?”

“I want to become a pirate.”

“Then thee’d best learn not t’let go o’ tha bloody rope and lose all tha bloody water, eh Archangel?”

“I did not let go. It broke. The thing was rotten. And my name is Jonathan Gabriel.”

Watching from the quarterdeck Jesamiah had to admire the lad’s audacity.

“Archangel. Show me thy hands.”

Again Jesamiah gave the lad his due, he did not hesitate but held out his hands, showing the backs and palms. “I am not afraid of hard work Captain. I can haul a rope along with the rest of them.”

Blackbeard nodded and began to walk away, but then Jonathan Gabriel made a fatal error. He pointed to Israel Hands. “Why did that man over there hide Mary Ormond’s wedding gown beneath a tree? Will she not be wanting it?” He glanced around, puzzled. Innocent. “Why is she not here? I heard you brought her aboard.”

The crew froze, all eyes looking towards Blackbeard walking back towards Jonathan Gabriel, his boots a slow, tread on the deck;
thump, thump, thump
.

“Show us thy hands again, boy.”

A cold dread twisted in Jesamiah’s stomach, he was on the verge of calling out, but he kept quiet. Him and the boy against this rabble? There was nothing he could do for the lad. Not without getting himself killed.

Without hesitation, without realising the grave danger he was in, Jonathan Gabriel held out his hands.

“I have no trace of shakes or trembling, Sir. A firm grip and agile fingers.”

“Thee be tha lad a’courtin’ tha Guv’nor’s stepdaughter.”

It was not a question but Jonathan Gabriel answered as if it were. “I am. I love her, we are to be married.”

“Are thee now?” Teach shook his head, his eyes narrowing like a snake’s before it strikes. “I think not, Archangel. I don’t hold with whores who refuse me my pleasure. An’ she ‘as a lesson t’learn, that ‘un.”

Moving fast, faster than anyone would credit a man of his size and bulk, Blackbeard’s hand shot out and grasped the boy’s right arm, dragged him, spluttering a protest of alarm, to the nearest cannon. With his free hand Teach lifted an axe that had been left on the deck, raised it and brought the blade down twice, severing the hand at the wrist.

Jonathan screamed. Jesamiah too, “
No
!” but Teach was insane and possessed not a half ounce of pity. He neither heard nor cared. Gripping the boy’s left arm, ignoring the lad’s frantic writhing and desperate kicking he struck off that hand also. Blood from the arteries was fountaining grotesquely over the deck, the cannon, Teach, the men nearby. Jonathan was shrieking, the sound soaring louder in pitch and fear as Teach hefted him over the side. A splash. The noise stopped.

The river turned red as Jonathan Gabriel tried to swim away, his lifeblood pumping from him with every desperate stroke. Stunned, gorge rising into his throat, Jesamiah watched as the tailor’s attempts to get away became feebler. He went under and did not come up again. The blood spreading on the surface eased. Stopped.

“Rufus.”

“Aye Cap’n?”

“Take them two trophies t’ tha great cabin. I’ve a use fer they.”

“Aye Cap’n.”

“An’ Rufus.”

“Cap’n?”

“I has a task for thee, once tha sun sets.”

“Aye Cap’n.”

The men were silent, not one daring to make comment or show disapproval, for if he did he would be next. Teach was aware of the silence, though, of the hardness in their eyes. It would not take much for them to turn against him. He had to keep them loyal, keep them yoked and there was only the one way to do it.

“Thee did well getting’ tha water lads, but who wants t’be drinkin’ water eh?” He swaggered to the nearest scuttle hatch and kicked it aside. “Least, not when we have rum in tha hold! Break it out, m’lads! Break out a keg or two!”

There was a cheer, a shout of approval. Two men hurried below, within moments two kegs were on deck, broached, and they were dipping pewter mugs into the liquor within. Toasting Blackbeard for the fine captain he was.

Jesamiah remained at the taffrail and glared with hatred at the man who was making himself comfortable again on his seat in the sunshine. “What kind of monster are you, Teach?”

“The ‘I be alive he be dead’, kind,” Blackbeard answered from beneath his hat. “No one makes a fool o’ me Acorne. No one. Remember that.”