From behind the safety of the cannon, Teach waited while the sponger cleaned out any powder char or burning cloth left behind before he loaded more powder into it. Working together, the gun crews prepared their cannons, ramming the wad in before rolling the balls home.
“Fire!” Teach yelled once more. The cannons responded with another round of resounding booms. This time Teach heard the shouts and screams of men as the balls ripped through the other ships. He hoped they’d disabled more of their sails.
Musket fire exploded from the other vessels as their big guns ceased. If the Deliverance didn’t get away soon, their attackers would send them all to the ocean floor.
“I want you to continue firing. Don’t stop! As soon as you have the cannons loaded, send them off!” Teach cried out.
Grabbing a musket from a nearby barrel, Teach raced up the stairs to check on the men stationed on the top deck of the Deliverance. With a practiced eye he saw that thus far, none of the riggings had been damaged.
Something soared passed Teach’s ear, and splinters of wood flew through the air. Diving behind a crate, he took a second to secure a target and fired. One of the men from the other ships fell over the railing into the ocean below. Another sailor quickly took his place as someone handed him a loaded musket.
Teach heard an agonized cry. He turned in time to see Murrell drop, clutching his neck as blood gushed over his hands and arms. Peter was at his side in an instant, his usually emotionless face contorted with shock.
Scrambling toward the captain, Teach did his best to try to stanch the flow, but it was no use. Murrell was losing too much blood.
Peter grabbed the nearest musket and reloaded it. Taking aim, he downed one of the nearest assailants.
After a few more seconds, the Deliverance sailed clear of one of the ships. The smoke lay heavy, but Teach could see where the stern and quarter had suffered on the other vessel. A quick glance off the starboard side showed that the smaller ship still sailed on a parallel course with the Deliverance, so Teach called for the cannons once more. John raced past him and down the stairs to do his bidding.
The entire time, Murrell clutched Teach’s wrist, gurgling noises emitting from his throat, his eyes pleading with Teach to do something. But Teach could do nothing more than stay with him and watch the life slowly ebb from the older man’s face. Peter was like a man possessed, loading and firing without hesitation, and shooting at anything that moved on the other ship.
The battle raged on around them and each vessel hammered the other with a continuous din. Murrell’s grip loosened until his hand finally fell to the deck. As much as Teach had disliked the man, he had not wished for him to meet such a grisly end.
The sound of men shouting and the incessant cracking of muskets propelled Teach forward. He picked up another musket, reloading it with an expert hand. Sweat poured down his back and his blood hammered in his ears as he watched the small ship reel beneath the impact of three cannonballs. One went through her mizzen topsail, the other two crashed through the deck. Surely she could no longer give chase, Teach thought.
The men surrounding him gave a cheerful shout as the Deliverance hauled her wind. In a matter of minutes, she was free, benefiting from the favor of the breeze and sailing once more toward her intended destination.
Taking a deep breath, Teach sat back. The acrid smell of smoke choked the air. That had been close. Too close. Once again, Teach hoped that Anne’s crossing had been easier than his. The thought of her experiencing a battle left him cold, despite the heat of the day.
“Teach,” John called as he ran up the stairs, stopping when he saw Murrell’s body.
Peter stared down at the captain’s lifeless form, the telltale glint of tears in his eyes.
John crossed himself and muttered a prayer, before meeting Teach’s gaze. “The gunners are all accounted for. We cut up the ships’ rigging and ruined their looks. That’s the last we’ll see of them.”
Wiping his brow with the back of his hand, Teach nodded at John. “See to the wounded. And tell the men to start patching the sails and repairing the hull.”
“Aye, Captain.”
Teach turned to Peter. “Help me take care of him.”
“Aye, Captain,” Peter said, his voice bitter.
Ignoring Peter’s resentment, Teach sent him off to fetch a hammock. Once he returned, the two of them wrapped Murrell’s body in it with a cannonball, and Peter quickly sewed it shut. He didn’t bother with the stitch through Murrell’s nose. The dead man’s skin had already taken on a chalky hue. Several members of the crew stopped what they were doing to watch as Teach and Peter hoisted the body in the air before tossing it into the waves. As Murrell sank below the surface of the turquoise waters, there was almost a collective sigh of relief. The tyrant was gone.
About to turn away, Teach hesitated when Peter spoke.
“He wasn’t always like that,” Peter said, his voice soft. He continued to stare at the water, his eyes unblinking. “When I first saw him, he was a gunner on a naval ship. A press-gang caught me unawares in an alley of London. I was only eleven at the time and they turned me into a bloody powder monkey.”
Teach knew about the navy’s practice of using small youth, chosen for their speed and height, to ferry gunpowder from the ship’s hold to the artillery. It was a dangerous job. In inexperienced hands, the powder could often start fires or cause explosions, especially during a battle at sea.
“I tried to run away, but they caught me. And beat me. My fingers were broken and bruised. Murrell taught me how to carry the powder from the hold to the cannons without dropping it. He told me I had to be strong. Not to let them see any weakness.”
An image of young Matthew tied to the mast flashed before Teach’s eyes. “There are other ways to show strength. Kindness is not a flaw. Neither is mercy.”
Peter’s lips twisted as he finally met Teach’s gaze. “Where will those emotions get you? People take advantage of you. They don’t respect you, neither. Remember who was captain of this ship.”
Teach knew he should keep his mouth shut, but he couldn’t stand to see Peter looking so superior. “Where is your captain now?” Teach asked before striding away, silently cursing his own reckless words. It was possible that once they reached shore, Peter would accuse Teach of mutiny. It would be Peter’s word against that of the crew, but the danger was still there.
Knowing how the others felt about Murrell and Peter, Teach doubted anyone would corroborate Peter’s claim. But would the authorities believe him?
Once again, Teach reached for the cords around his neck, working the thin leather between his fingers.