Blacksouls (Blackhearts #2)

“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.

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