The devil and edward tea.., p.18
The Devil and Edward Teach, page 18
Cornelius scurried up the ladder like a monkey as Hands turned and fended off the grisly, walking corpses. Scrabbling hands reached for his cutlass, but its keen edge sliced through fingers and thumbs like a hot knife through butter. An unearthly groan filled the stinking air as Hands began climbing, his back to the ladder.
His cutlass was suddenly wrenched from his grasp and the monstrous devils closed in on him, grabbing at his ankles and pulling at his tunic. The pirate screamed with frustration as he beat at their decomposing bodies.
A strong pair of hands grabbed him under the armpits and hauled him onto the deck. Cornelius slammed the hatch door shut and sat on it, his face contorted in agony. His wounded shoulder bled freely.
“Come on, we ain’t got time to sit around,” Hands said, helping the young man up and dragging him towards the poop deck.
* * *
“Well now, looks like its time to bargain with the Devil,” growled Blackbeard, looking at the upturned coin on Jack Swift’s hand.
“Ye can’t have yer men back,” Scrat said. “They’re mine now.”
Blackbeard prowled the tiny cabin, his powerful, lithe body rippling beneath his tattered, dirty costume. He tugged at his beard as he looked first at Abigail and then Scrat, his eyes narrowing in thought. Pointing at the two young people sitting on the edge of the cot, he said, “You don’t touch a hair on their heads, nor Israel Hands nor Cornelius neither.”
Scrat regarded Blackbeard with his one good eye.
“An’ when we get out of here, an’ back to Nassau, I’m takin’ the royal pardon, an’ becomin’ an honest man, like. Then I’m headin’ up to Charleston, where I’m going to marry. Young girl doesn’t know it yet, but she’s going to be Mrs. Edward Teach the fifteenth.”
Blackbeard paused, a far away, dreamy look passing over his face.
“No she ain’t, them other tarts were married to Blackbeard. She’ll be Mrs. Edward Teach, the first an’ last an’ only. Now, there’s lots o’ folk out there who’d like to see old Blackbeard finished off, once an’ for all, royal pardon or no, honest man an’ respectably married, it won’t matter to them. But I don’t want none o’ that, understand? I want no obstacles in my way, not one.”
“An’ what does Harry Scrat get in return?” Scrat said.
Blackbeard clenched his fist and dug his thumb into his chest.
“Yer get me,” he growled.
Abigail gasped. “No!”
“Don’t worry young lady, my heart’s as black as sin anyway. What do yer say then? Yer give up the young lady’s soul an’ yer let her keep her fine young man, an’ I get to live the honest, respectable life of a married man. An’ when I’m done, an’ they’re puttin’ me in the ground, well you’ll know where to find me.”
Scrat smiled.
Everyone turned to see Israel Hands burst through the cabin door, his wild eyes staring from his crimson splashed face. “She’s gonna blow!”
Blackbeard turned back to face Scrat, but he had gone.
The explosion rocked the ship, sending everyone in the captain’s cabin crashing to the floor. Chunks of burning wood arced through the fog and showered the poop deck. A moment later a tidal wave smashed through the stern windows, flooding the captain’s cabin.
Blackbeard hauled Abigail to her feet, coughing and spluttering, and glared at Hands. “What the devil’s going on?”
“We blew the powder room. There was enough gunpowder down there to sink a warship.”
“Then we’d better get moving.”
Jack picked up Thomas and stuffed him inside his prison tunic. As they clambered from the cabin they saw the sea greedily swallowing up the boat’s ruined bow. Cornelius clung to the taut ropes of the mast’s rigging as the ship lurched suddenly and began sliding beneath the waves.
“Scrat’s boat!” he shouted. “It is our only chance!”
The tiny boat rocked violently on the surging waves, bouncing against the ship’s hull, to which it was still tied. Jack took Abigail’s arm and began helping her towards the lifeboat. Cornelius looked at him, his brow furrowed, and then at Abigail.
Abigail avoided his look.
Blackbeard and Hands helped the others clamber onto the tiny boat, the ship’s death moans filling their ears. Hands began untying them from the hull, his fingers working quickly at the knot as the sinking ship dragged them with it.
“Sally!” Abigail screamed. “She’s still on board, in the cabin!”
“Too late now,” Hands said, his fingers scrabbling frantically at the wet knot.
Cornelius attempted to stand, but his wound bled freely and he sat down again, cursing.
“Where is she?” Jack said, handing Thomas to the young girl.
“Down below, in one of the cabins.”
“Don’t do it lad, you ain’t got time,” Blackbeard growled, but too late, Jack had already scrambled on board.
Hands released the knot and the tiny boat drifted from the sinking ship as the young lad disappeared down a hatchway flooding with seawater.
Already up to his waist in water, Jack struggled through the dark passage. He recoiled in horror as a dead body bumped into him, floating face down, arms outstretched above its head. Jack pushed the body away and saw another, and then another. Gritting his teeth, he shoved the bodies aside as he waded through the broiling water until he came to a closed cabin door. He unlatched it and the door swung open beneath the pressure of the water.
More dead bodies, glassy eyes staring at him, grotesquely swollen tongues lolling from open mouths. Men, women, and children, all seeming to come to life as they were caught up in the rapidly rising seawater, limbs moving and striking each other.
Jack turned and swam to the next cabin door, helped along by the current. He ducked his head under the water to find the latch and opened the door. Sally screamed as the water propelled him into the cabin, tumbling him over and over. He righted himself and grabbed the young girl’s gown.
Sally looked at him, the fog clearing from her mind as the waters rushed around them.
“Come on,” Jack gasped, “or we will die.”
The water swirled around their necks, lapping at their faces. Jack took a couple of deep breaths and then pushed himself beneath the water’s surface. Sally followed him. They swam for the cabin door and out into the corridor. More bodies, limbs corkscrewed into impossible contortions, rushed towards them as though suddenly alive.
Jack pushed Sally deeper, below the corpses, hoping she could control herself and not scream. They swam beneath the flailing bodies, bloated fingers scraping their backs and tugging at their clothes.
Then they swam up again, Jack’s lungs beginning to hurt as he searched for the open hatchway. The light grew dimmer as he turned this way and that, eyes bulging and mouth dribbling precious air as he grew desperate to locate the escape route.
More of the corpses floated towards them, a crowd of dead bodies imprisoning them in the sinking ship.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Nassau
Abigail clutched Thomas to her chest as she watched the ship disappear beneath the waves, hissing and bubbling like a boiling pot of water. Her head swam and a grey mist swallowed her vision as she thought she might faint. Strong hands grasped her shoulders and held her up.
“Ain’t no use, young lady,” Blackbeard said. “The lad took an awful risk, that he did.”
The churning water began to calm and settle. A few seconds later and there was no sign that Scrat’s ship had ever existed.
A sob ripped from Abigail’s mouth and Blackbeard took her in his arms. For a moment she resisted, and then fell against him crying. He stroked her hair and began softly humming a haunting, melancholy tune.
Cornelius looked on, too weak to move and too helpless to comfort the girl he loved.
“Look!” Hands shouted. “Look, they’ve made it!”
Abigail lifted her head and looked where the first mate pointed. Two figures bobbed up and down in the waves, waving and shouting. Hands hauled on the oars and rowed towards them.
As Blackbeard lifted Sally and Jack on board the tiny craft, Cornelius felt a fresh breeze against his face. A shaft of sunlight pierced the thinning fog, shining on the boat and its occupants. Abigail threw her arms around both Sally and Jack, weeping with joy. Cornelius looked on, an inexplicable ache filling his chest.
He knew now that Abigail was no longer his, that there would be no marriage, no life together in Nassau or London.
He felt a tickling against his fingers and looked down. Thomas licked his hand and purred. Cornelius scratched the cat behind the ears and closed his eyes.
Jack coughed and spluttered as he caught his breath.
“Hundreds,” he gasped, “hundreds of dead bodies down there, men and women, young children.”
“Impossible,” muttered Hands.
“Scrat’s collection o’ souls,” growled Blackbeard. “That’s what they were, Scrat’s collection o’ poor souls condemned to spend eternity with him.”
“And you, Captain Teach?” Abigail said, her tone soft and gentle. “Have you not also condemned yourself to an eternity in Hell?”
“Aye well, young lass, I were headed there anyway, no doubt about that. Scrat ain’t got nothin’ he weren’t already gettin’.”
Abigail leaned over and placed her arms around the grizzled pirate captain, and hugged him fiercely. “You have saved us Captain Teach, whilst sealing your own fate. We owe you our lives.”
“Now, lass, don’t go mentionin’ no debts owed.”
Blackbeard fell silent and averted his gaze from the young woman, still clutching him tight, and stared out to sea at the thinning fog. Abigail felt a small hitch in his powerful chest and she smiled to herself, whilst an aching sadness filled her chest.
Could it be true?
Was this most notorious of pirates stifling his tears?
* * *
The tiny boat bobbed through the choppy ocean waves for several hours as the powerful, Caribbean sun blazed its heat upon them. Towards late afternoon, Jack spied a ship’s sails on the horizon. An hour later and they were spotted by the merchant ship’s lookout and picked up. Cornelius took on the role of spokesman, explaining how they had been shipwrecked in a violent storm and had to take to the sea in a tiny lifeboat. The captain regarded them sceptically, asking where the rest of the ship’s crew were, and casting suspicious glances at Blackbeard, who did his best to skulk unobtrusively in the background.
Unconvinced by their story, the captain nevertheless agreed to drop them off in Nassau where they could seek passage home again.
“The Gentleman Adventurer’s Association has contacts all over the world,” Cornelius said. “I need only find a representative in Nassau and we shall be given everything we need, including the means to return to London.”
Nassau was not the thriving Caribbean town that Abigail had expected, but a small, filthy collection of crooked streets and dilapidated buildings and shacks. Beggars and drunks prowled the streets, leering at the young ladies and then stepping back beneath Blackbeard’s withering gaze. Abigail had no desire to seek out her uncle, and determined to return to London with Jack and Sally. Looking around her at the vile specimens of humanity that populated this town, Sally agreed.
“Perhaps Grandfather will allow us our inheritance anyway, once he has heard of our terrible adventures,” she said.
“And what of you, Captain Teach?” Abigail said.
Blackbeard stood a little straighter, smoothed his beard down and pushed his shoulders back. His dark eyes twinkled from his lined face, over which crawled his immense, tangled black beard.
“Aye,” he growled, “Captain Teach it is from now on. Blackbeard’s had his day prowling the high seas, an’ his desperate cutthroat career is over. What say you Hands? Shall we have a crack at seeking the Royal Pardon?”
Israel Hands glared at his captain. This was not the Blackbeard he had known and served under all these years. He could hardly imagine living an honest life, as pirating was the only trade he knew. But he knew his captain, and friend, well enough not to argue; once Blackbeard had set his mind upon a course of action, then neither Hell nor high water would stop him.
“Aye, we shall that then,” he said. “But I don’t expect we’ll be honest men for long, an’ I think the King may well have reason to regret handing out a Royal Pardon so free an’ easy like.”
Blackbeard howled with laughter and clapped his second in command on the back. “Come on, lad,” he shouted, “let’s partake of some rum an’ brandy before we gets to arguing.”
Cornelius watched as the two men disappeared into the murky depths of a foul looking drinking den. He turned to speak to Abigail, but she had moved to the edge of the harbour with Jack, and they now stood arm in arm watching the boats bobbing on the choppy ocean waves. An overwhelming ache consumed him, spreading across his chest and stomach as he watched the two reunited lovers embrace.
Soft, gentle fingers entwined round his and he glanced down at Sally, who said, “Talk to her, Cornelius. She never meant you any harm, and she hurts as much as you.”
“I do not see her hurting right now,” Cornelius replied, regarding the two lovers by the water’s edge.
“But she does,” replied Sally. “We have all been through an unimaginable ordeal, Abigail more than the rest of us. You were a source of great strength and comfort to her throughout, and she came to love you, perhaps as much as she loved Jack Swift. And now the impossible has happened, and Jack is reunited with her. Can you not see how she might be confused and hurting, despite her great happiness?”
Cornelius said nothing, his brow furrowed and his jaw set.
“Wait here,” Sally said, “and when you see Abigail alone then go to her, and talk to her.”
The young lady left Cornelius’s side and walked across the quay to the two lovers. She talked to Jack for a moment and then escorted him away, glancing quickly at Cornelius as she did so, leaving Abigail alone. For a moment, Cornelius could do no more than wonder at the mature young woman who had replaced the feckless young Sally Rose he had first met in her Grandfather’s living room in London. How had that happened, and when?
He shook his head and walked over to the elder Rose girl, her back turned to him, unaware of his presence. He reached out a hand and touched her shoulder. She jumped, and when she turned to face him he saw tears rolling down her cheeks.
“Oh Cornelius!” she gasped, and fell into his arms, sobbing.
The young man held her tight and stroked her hair.
“I have wanted to speak to you,” she said, between cries. “I have hated this silence which has grown between us, and so wanted to come to you, and tell you…”
Her voice trailed away into silence and she cried softly.
“No,” Cornelius replied, “Jack has been returned to you now, whether by the grace of God, or devilish means, it matters not. Your place is with him.”
Abigail said nothing, her face buried in his chest.
“And I have many tasks ahead of me yet, many adventures to have before I can be admitted to the illustrious Gentleman Adventurer’s Association. No, your place is with your husband, whilst my destiny is yet unknown and full of mystery and danger.”
Abigail looked up at Cornelius, her face stained with tears. “Shall I see you again? I hate to think that we might never meet again.”
Cornelius smiled and kissed the young lady on the lips, a kiss she did not refuse.
“Who knows, maybe we shall.”
Indeed, Cornelius Wilde went on to have many adventures in his quest for membership of the Gentleman Adventurer’s Association, and he crossed paths with Abigail and Jack only a few years later. But these tales are not for telling here, and shall be related elsewhere.
* * *
Later that evening, Blackbeard and Israel Hands found passage aboard a Dutch sailing vessel headed for North Carolina, and Blackbeard’s sweetheart. Abigail, Jack, Cornelius and Sally gathered on the beach to say their farewells to the two pirates.
“Aye, yer make a fine young couple,” Blackbeard said, regarding Jack and Abigail, his dark eyes twinkling with mischief. “Come to North Carolina with us, yer’d be guests of honour, that yer would.”
“A ship bound for London sets sail tomorrow,” Abigail replied, “and we shall be on it. But I wish you all the best for your marriage, and for the honest life you will lead from now on.”
She looked at the pirate captain, at his matted black beard and the ribbons tied into it, at his lined face and bushy eyebrows, and those dark, fearsome eyes, and a chill passed over her heart as she remembered the awful pact he had made with the Devil, so that they might be free.
“Oh, Captain Teach,” she whispered, close to tears, “isn’t there anything we can do…?”
“Shhh,” the pirate whispered, placing a meaty finger over her dainty lips and silencing her. “There ain’t no use talkin’ about it, what’s done’s done.”
He hugged Abigail then, lifting her up into the air and squeezing hard enough that she screamed and kicked her feet. Laughing, he placed her gently back down upon the hot sand and turned to Jack.
“Now you look after this young lady o’ yours young man, or yer might find a flotilla o’ pirate ships after you.”
“I will, sir,” Jack said, taking a step back beneath the pirate’s withering gaze.
Hands were shook, shoulders patted and goodbyes said, and then the two pirates walked down the beach to the tiny lifeboat waiting to take them to the merchant ship, ready to set sail.
“Goodbye, Edward Teach,” Abigail called out, her hand raised in farewell.
Teach turned and raised his own hand, the setting sun’s orange light streaming around his thickset, powerful body and lending him an unearthly luminosity.
