The Wreck of the Ten Sail Page 4

  The governor interrupted my thoughts. “This offer ain’t open-ended. Repair your ship and be anchored in the harbor by noon the day after tomorrow. If you don’t, I’ll arrest you as pirates. Escape and I’ll spread word of your treachery to every governor in the Caribbean.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Heading on a northern course through the bay, I was spellbound. Although the water was several fathoms deep, the bottom appeared only inches away. Stingrays patrolled the sandy floor, and coral heads reached for the surface, breaking the smooth, desert-like bottom.

  The governor had offered me dinner and a better bed than the stone bunk in the guardhouse, and in the morning had put me aboard his schooner to take me back to the Panther. I hoped the men had worked through the night to complete the work necessary to get her underway. We would need every option at our disposal.

  I had already decided to send the hostage back. His usefulness was at an end and the last thing we needed was bad blood with the British. I studied their ship, evaluating how battle-ready it was should we have to face it. Twelve carronades lined the rails, with two smaller guns fore and aft. But, aside from a well-armed ship, I suspected the governor had little power here and no naval presence—just the handful of cannon I had seen by the guardhouse. Still, even though he had little in the way of force, his signature carried the backing of the British Empire. A letter of marque signed by William Bodden would hold the same authority as if signed by the king himself. Conversely, a condemnation from him would end badly for us.

  The arguments battled in my mind, but legitimacy won every time. I was a pirate by circumstance alone, having been taken prisoner by Gasparilla’s band five years before. It was purely by chance that I was now leading this company. The one act of piracy we had committed was taking a ship from a band of slavers in the Snake River. The attack was brutal, but after freeing Mason and several of his men from the hold, I was able to justify even that. Now I had to convince the crew to give up half our treasure for our own freedom.

  The schooner rounded the point and turned to port. We cleared the headland and changed course to the west. I could see our ship in the distance, but we were too far away to tell if she was upright or still careened. While I waited for the ship to close the gap I thought about Blue and hoped he had made it back all right. I had little doubt he had— there were few men capable of tracking him.

  The captain gave the order to change our tack and, before I knew it, the anchor was dropped and a crewman pulled the painter attached to the dory towards the stern ladder. I could see the Panther clearly now. She was righted and partially rigged. They had indeed been busy while I was gone. A crewman shoved me toward the opening in the rail and I descended the ladder to the awaiting dory. Three well-armed men climbed down behind me. We tossed off the painter and rowed to the beach.

  I felt a rush as the small boat surfed the last wave and burrowed its bow in the sand, and I learned something about their seamanship when the next wave took us from behind, pouring water into the boat. I was wet from the waist down when my feet, now clad in borrowed boots, hit the sand.

  The cannons were manned and pointed towards us. The tension was clear, but the crew relaxed when they saw me. I climbed the beach and walked towards Rhames. I would have preferred to talk to Mason first, but Rhames had the backing of the crew as second in command, and I needed to show him the proper respect.

  “Nice boots,” Rhames said as I drew near. “A bit fancy for my taste.”

  “All is well,” I said. “I had a fine meeting with the governor last night. Release the prisoner and we’ll talk about our options.”

  The crew relaxed visibly when they heard that. Swift brought the man forward, drew his knife, and pulled it in a large arc past the man’s throat before cutting the cord that bound his hands.

  He gave a push and the man stumbled towards the dory, where the crew helped him aboard. No words were spoken as they waited for a lull in the surf before turning the small boat and rowing hard for deep water before the next wave swamped them. We stood in a cluster on the beach, watching until the dory was past the breakers.

  I turned to the group and searched their faces. “Where’s Blue?”

  Lucy stepped forward, a worried look on her face. “We’ve not seen him since you left,” she said.

  If it were any other man, I would have been worried, but Blue’s stealth and survival skills were unrivaled. “I’m in need of some of your medicine. We can talk while you have a look at my feet.”

  We walked as a group to the campfire in the shade of the palm trees. I sat on a log and gingerly pulled the boots from my feet. The bloody pieces of linen fell onto the sand in bits.

  Lucy came over and took one foot in her lap. “That’s a nasty bit of work you’ve got there,” she said in her unique English accent, part pygmy and part British. “Stay here and I’ll fetch my medicine.”

  Rory came and sat beside me. “Nice work, Captain. You’ll be laid up for days. Might we ask how it happened?” Of course she would choose now to scold me.

  “What’s the report on the ship?” I asked, ignoring her and reasserting my authority.

  Mason spoke. “Rigging needs a few more hours, then we’ll stow the cargo. She should be ready in the morning.”

  I knew they had their questions. So, while Lucy tended to my feet, I told the tale of how Blue and I had crossed the bay. I left nothing out, knowing their shrewd minds might pick up something from a detail that I had perhaps missed.

  “I think you should trust this man,” Rory said when I got to the governor’s proposal.

  Her comment surprised me. Even though it was one vote in my favor, I didn’t like that it had come from her. Still, I laid out my rehearsed argument but saw the doubt on the crew’s faces when I finished.

  “That’s all, then,” I said. “My plan would be to do what he asks and get the letter of marque.”

  A pirate society is democratic, and although I fought the notion that we were pirates, we still held to their rules of government. Rhames was first to disagree, with Swift and Red nodding as he spoke. I fought hard for my point of view—that the value of the letter of marque was worth more than the treasure. After all, I reminded them, we still had the chests buried in the Keys.

  “I see your point.” Mason said, speaking up for the first time. “We could take up any trade we wanted: wrecking, salvaging, or trade.”

  The pirates grumbled and I counted their votes. We were nine with Blue missing, but he and Lucy tended to abstain. So with eight votes remaining, I was outnumbered, only being able to count on Rory and Mason. The five remaining pirates would have a quorum.

  “Rhames, you’ve got no loyalties to the Americans, or the British, or the Spaniards. Am I right?” I waited for him to nod. “Pirating is at an end in these waters. Even if you can find a refuge for you and your ill-gotten gains, there’ll always be some pauper, jealous of your wealth, who’ll turn you in for a small bounty.” I paused for effect.

  “Adventure is what we are after,” I added, now dangling the carrot. “We could take this treasure and split it up. It’ll be a fair share for all and enough to live a splendid life, but we’d all die sitting on our arses in some fine house on a hill, staring at the water and drinking rum all day, wondering what could have been. Adventure is in our blood. Freedom is in our blood. We can always get more treasure. Here is a chance to be free to roam the seas.”

  From the looks on their faces, I knew I had sold them.

  “Aye. Nick’s right. I’d have sores on my butt from sitting too long. Let’s hide a bit of the loot on the ship, so if he is meaning to double-cross us, we still have something,” Rhames conceded.

  I continued while I still had their support. “We have to turn over most of it. There’s a good chance he has someone watching us.”

  They nodded again. It was decided. At dawn we would pay a visit to the governor.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Even though I had crossed the same water the day bef
ore, I was still wary of the bay. So I remained in the rigging keeping watch for coral heads and had Swift at the furthest point of the bowsprit with the lead. To my surprise, the soundings were all over four fathoms. We passed without incident, and early in the afternoon, we entered the harbor and dropped anchor, careful to select our mooring for a quick escape. As I looked at the mouth of the bay, though, I knew there was no real security. One ship could easily block the entrance to the bay and seal us inside.

  My negotiations were more important now, and I rehearsed my offer as the men lashed the sails. The crew clearly shared my anxiety, because I heard Rhames remind the men to use quick-release knots and to prime and load the cannon.

  Mason pulled the skiff towards the stern and tied it off while I, out of sight of prying eyes, slipped the boots over my feet. The salves Lucy had applied had helped and the cuts had started to heal, but it would be a few days before I could walk normally, or run if need be.

  We had agreed that Mason, as the least pirate-looking and most level-headed of the bunch, would accompany me. Rory had fought to go with us, but I could not allow her to go into a potentially dangerous situation and I was still unsure of her motives. She and Lucy would remain hidden aboard. The hostage we had taken had likely given a full account of our ship and crew, but there was no point in flaunting that we had women aboard.

  We climbed into the dinghy and sat at the bow while Rhames and Red each grabbed an oar and started pulling towards the pier. This was another calculated decision: to be rowed in like a captain. Gasparilla had taught me how to deal with power. He was well versed after his years in the Spanish court. In these negotiations, I knew I would need every bit of authority I could muster.

  Two men, armed with cutlasses and pistols, met us at the pier. Ignoring the implied threat, we climbed the short ladder to the dock and followed the well-armed men to the governor’s house.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Rhames and Red heading down a side street toward the stone house where I had been held. They were to make sure Blue was not captured, disable the cannons if possible, and reconnoiter the town.

  The governor’s house was a welcome relief from the hot day. The long eaves shaded the interior spaces from the sun and the large windows and open doors invited the sea breeze.

  We were led to his office and, once inside, the two men took positions by the door as if to guard the exit. Bodden signaled Mason and me to sit, and we were again offered rum.

  The governor pushed a document across the mahogany desk, and I moved closer. It was the letter of marque, the Holy Grail for any freebooter. I read the paper and saw that it was incomplete. There were no terms and the name of the captain and ship were blank. It was also unsigned—worthless. Bodden pulled the paper back and turned it around.

  He was all business. The split was to be half each, a common agreement and one my crew had already decided was acceptable. We always had the option of hiding part of the booty, but a legal split was better than having the whole lot for yourself with nowhere to spend it. We waited while he filled in the information. It was all done except for the signing.

  “Well, men, you are privateers for the king now.” He paused, and I knew whatever surprise he had in store for us was about to be revealed. “Now, an honest partner would allow an inspection of his holds. Just so we know what’s what.”

  This was unexpected. We had not talked about the possibility of a search, and it was not lost on me that the paper remained unsigned.

  “I wouldn’t want you to have to share what is already yours,” he said.

  Nor did I, but I weighed the value of the paper on his desk and decided to allow it. We had already agreed that in order to legitimize what we had, we would report taking the treasure, but be vague about its source. We had already resigned ourselves to losing half, knowing that what remained would be recorded and legal.

  Besides, there were only two chests left from the original five, and the lone piece of silver cast as ballast in the bilge would likely remain undetected. The ballast had been a surprise and we had only discovered it when we’d brought it into the sunlight to use as a replacement anchor.

  “Sign the paper and you can have your inspection,” I said with more authority than I thought I could muster.

  Bodden drank from his glass, paused, and drained the last inch in one sip. Then, taking his time, he dipped his pen in the inkwell, removed it with a flourish, and slowly placed the nib on the parchment.

  The door flew open, and a small, hunched-over man entered the room. Startled, Bodden jumped, leaving a large blot on the page. I cursed. If not for all his ceremony, the letter would have been signed.

  “This better be good, Pott.” He looked hard at the man.

  “Trouble at the pub,” the man reported without raising his gaze from the floor.

  The second the words were out of his mouth, I knew it could only be Rhames and Swift. They were the most belligerent of the crew. Being constantly on the run, I had been careful about rationing out our store of rum. I guessed the lure of the tavern and the delicious barmaid had been too much for them. I recalled the men playing dice in the corner and suspected this might be worse than a scuffle. Rhames was a notorious gambler, and a sore loser at that.

  The governor got up and headed for the door. The document remained on his desk with a blob of ink where the signature should have been. Mason and I moved to follow until the governor spoke.

  “Hold these men. Take them to the guardhouse until this is sorted out.”

  ***

  We were pushed inside the stone building, and the door slammed closed. I heard the bar placed on the outside and we waited for our eyes to adjust to the dim light of the small stone building. Not surprised, I saw Rhames and Swift sitting on the bench. Minutes before, I had envisioned myself sailing the Caribbean with a letter of marque, free to adventure and explore. Now we were imprisoned in a dim cell on one of the most neglected outposts in the Caribbean.

  I glared at Rhames and Swift, but the pirates refused to meet my eyes.

  “Care to explain?” I asked, keeping my voice low. I didn’t want this discussion to be public.

  “Bloody dice is what. We were cheated,” Rhames complained.

  I knew better than to ask why he was playing in the first place. It was my fault for putting him in that position. “What’s the result?” I asked, needing to know how bad it was.

  “Damn near a hundred pounds,” he said meekly.

  I tried to process the amount, wondering how he could have lost so much so quickly. Many men never made that much in their lives.

  “How?” I asked.

  “We doubled down, hoping to get information. There weren’t no sign of Blue and we thought we could pry a few tongues in the bar.”

  No sign of Blue was a good thing. As long as he remained at large, he was safe. As for the gambling debt, we could barter with some of the treasure. Maybe the letter of marque was still within reach.

  I held that thought for all of a minute before footsteps approached and the door opened. I was temporarily blinded by the setting sun and it took a minute before I recognized Bodden’s voice.

  “Well, young captain, for all your fancy talk, it turns out that your lot is a bunch of pirates after all.” The governor turned to the men behind him. “We’ll string up these two and see if their captain can come up with the debt they owe. If not, we’ll hang him and his mate as well.”

  Our situation had gone south in a matter of minutes, but I had no time to reflect on it. I had to save Rhames and Swift and get our crew to safety. “It’s just a gambling debt,” I argued. “Happens all the time. The men have been at sea for too long. We’ll pay it off and be on our way.”

  “And I would do that why?” Bodden asked. “Maybe we ought to go have a look in your holds and see what you’ve really been up to.”

  My stomach sank. This was the worst case. He would surely loot the boat and hang us as pirates, enriching himself and increasing his name at the same
time. I had to find a way out. Fortunately, there was a late-rising moon that night. It would be dark when we reached the ship, and I expected they would delay the search until the morning. I had several hours to remedy this, but had no idea how.

  “Prisoners’ rations for the lot,” he spat before the door slammed, leaving us in the dark.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Prison rations turned out to be better than I expected, mainly due to the mode of delivery. I didn’t recognize her when she first entered the cell. The wide-brimmed hat covered much of her face. When she looked up and I saw her pale grey eyes, I almost forgot my circumstances.

  “Stop staring and listen,” she said.

  I tried.

  “Bodden’s getting the gallows ready. I think he aims to hang the men in the morning. As for you, he’ll ship you off to a more glamorous spot so more people can witness his capture of a famous pirate.”

  “I’m not even a pirate!” I felt like I was whining, and probably was.

  She sat next to me on the bench. “By the time he finishes weaving the tale of your exploits, you will be.”

  The men were eating the turtle pie she had brought and were drinking from the cask of ale. At least they let men drink before they hung them.

  “We’d pay you well to help us,” I offered.

  “It’s too small an island. I’d be found out right away. Besides, Bodden’s ready to search your ship. You’ll be broke by the time the moon rises and the tide turns.”

  My hopes dimmed and I took a piece of the meat pie before it was gone. “Any way out, then?” I asked with my mouth full.

  “I’d help if I could, but like I said, if they found out, they’d hang me and my father.”

  I heard a yelp from outside the door, followed by the sound of a body hitting the ground. Seconds later I heard another. Then Blue’s head popped in the doorway. “We go now, Mr. Nick.”