“We’ll see. I believe some of them might be quite convincing in their arguments.”
There was no denying the implicit threat in his statement. Without another word, the two men left the tavern. Alastair muttered an oath and stalked from the room toward the kitchen, leaving Anne and Benjamin standing there. Anne couldn’t help wondering about the meeting in Jamaica and whether or not she and Benjamin were safe.
CHAPTER 9
Teach
The water was so clear beneath the hull of the Deliverance as it limped into the port of Nassau, Teach could see the ripples in the sand twenty feet below. Occasionally a large ray glided under the bow, a fleeting shadow in the shallows of the bay. Anxious to be on land, Teach could not help wondering how he would continue his search for Anne.
The Bahamas was a major shipping thoroughfare that had recently become popular, attracting pirates and buccaneers. The draw of the turquoise waters and long sandbars were an ideal setting to attack unwary ships. Or even wary ones, as Teach had discovered the hard way. Hundreds of secluded cays and islets allowed marauding ships to lie in wait to pounce on unwilling prey sailing by.
It had been seven days since they’d encountered and fought with those ships, but their ordeal wasn’t over just yet. As soon as they dropped anchor, Teach and the rest of the crew began the arduous task of getting the injured to shore first. The Deliverance was too large and there were too many ships already dotting the busy water for it to get any closer to the docks themselves.
The city’s new fort, in the shape of a four-pointed star, stood sentinel on a hill, with two of its walls projecting northward over the seafront. Figures hurried along the wharves to load and unload the myriad of anchored merchant ships. Was one of the vessels the Providence?
With his mind racing, Teach nodded at John. “I’m going to search for Peter myself. If you see him, make sure he doesn’t leave the ship.”
“Aye, Captain.”
Teach swept the quarterdeck as the anchor dropped, looking for any sign of the familiar blond head, but to no avail. Teach pictured Peter hiding in the bowels of the ship like the rat he was. Deciding to head down to check the cargo hold, Teach descended the last flight of stairs when he heard shouting and the distinct sound of a splash. Someone had released one of the rafts and jumped in after it.
Peter.
Rushing back to the top deck, Teach drew his pistol as he spied two figures clambering over the side of the small boat. The bounder had somehow managed to get someone to help him, which meant that not all of the crew was loyal.
Teach tensed against the shaking of his muscles, his finger squeezing the trigger of his revolver as he took aim between Peter’s shoulder blades.
It would be so easy to stop the coward from leaving. Peter had carried out every whipping Murrell had ordered on board the Deliverance, and he’d enjoyed it.
This was Teach’s chance to carry out his own punishment. He would be Peter’s executioner. . . .
“He’s not worth it,” John said quietly at his side.
With a humorless laugh, Teach kept the weapon trained on Peter’s back. Peter shouted at the other man to gain control of the oars. “At the moment, I would have to disagree.”
Teach should have gone down to the gun deck. If he’d fired from one of the cannon ports, nobody would have been able to tell where the shot came from.
At John’s prolonged silence, Teach glanced over at his friend, noting the disapproval in his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that,” Teach muttered.
“Like what?”
“Like my father.”
With a heavy sigh, Teach slowly lowered the weapon. John reached forward and dragged the pistol out of Teach’s grasp. “You’re better than this, Teach. You can’t shoot a man from behind.”
“Then bring him here and I’ll shoot him in the face,” Teach said, his voice iced with quiet menace.
The two men now had control of the raft and rowed away from the Deliverance. Peter glanced over his shoulder, a triumphant smile on his lips. Teach jerked his thumb in Peter’s direction. “After everything he’s done, he doesn’t deserve to get away like this. He might not be shooting us from behind, but we’ll all surely hang if he gets away.”
“They’re only two men. The rest of us are loyal to you, Teach.”
Teach gave him a stony stare. “I wonder if you’ll feel the same when the noose is around your throat.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong. Murrell wasn’t right in the head. All of us could see that.”
“I hope the courts will agree with you.” Not waiting for John to respond, Teach gave a short shout, instructing his men to lower a boat over the side. It was time to get the wounded on shore. Lashing several planks of wood together, Teach and his men began the laborious task of lowering the injured men to the small vessels below. John stood on the Jacob’s ladder swung over the side to help with their descent.
Since Peter had taken one of the rafts, the rest of the men had only two to transport the entire crew and passengers to shore. Teach’s back was covered in sweat, and his face and head burned as he worked for the next hour under the scorching sun.
The last injured sailor only had a broken arm. He climbed onto the Jacob’s ladder, gritting his teeth and descending slowly. Halfway down, the sailor lost his footing on the spreaders and fell into the clear water below. Teach dove in, his eyes stinging from the saltwater. He located the boy and pulled him to the surface, where John hoisted him into the skiff. Teach clung to the side of the boat, grateful to be in the cooling sea, if only for a short while.
A large crowd gathered and watched as more weary crew members reached the docks.
“There are soldiers,” John muttered beneath his breath, staying the oars. “Want me to talk to them while you go and get the rest off the ship?”
“No. I’ll deal with them.” Drawing a deep breath, Teach climbed the wooden ladder that led out from the choppy waves, only to stop when a hand reached out to assist him near the top. One of the soldiers, presumably their leader, gave Teach an assessing look.
“Are you the captain of that ship?”
“Aye,” Teach said, standing to his full height, and running a hand through his hair. Droplets rained down around him and his clothes dripped onto the bleached boards beneath his feet.
“You’ve been charged with mutiny. You and your men will come with me.”
CHAPTER 10
Anne
Anne took aim, squinting against the brightness of the sun. The roof of the abandoned warehouse they were in was missing parts, but the wooden slats in the walls were surprisingly intact. The noise from the busy waterfront in the distance camouflaged the report of the pistol. Coyle had chosen this spot because they could practice here without fear of interference or detection.