Chapter Seventeen
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| CHAPTER 17 |
“Nothing to be done. Eden’s up
to his neck in it.”
“Eden’s getting too much of the
goods, if you ask me,” a gruff voice flung out.
“And Tobias Knight looks out
for no one save himself.”
“They are all in it together,
you know.” The man lifted a tankard to his lips and threw back the contents.
“We’ve no choice but to fight
the bastard ourselves,” someone shouted from the back of the tavern.
“And have him seek revenge on
our plantations and our merchants’ ships?” a small squeaky voice piped in.
“And plunder our women?”
Heads nodded in agreement.
“Our lives are at stake, here. He
will burn us to the ground if we cross him,” a worried voice insisted.
“We can’t cross him.”
“We must.”
“We need help. We can’t do it
alone.”
“We’ve got to do something.”
“He rifled my boat to the bare
boards and stole my mother’s silver!” The man pounded the table before him,
tankards filled with drink jumping into the air, splashes of liquor sprinkling
the table. “We cannot sit here any longer.”
“He took liberties with my only
daughter!” Another stood to the forefront of the group and shook his fist in
the air.
“He has my wife.”
The darkened room sat still
with a hushed silence as all eyes searched through the murky haze of tobacco
and oil smoke for the man who belonged to the last anxious voice.
Jack Porter stepped through the
crowded tavern to the center of the gathering. Slowly glancing about the room,
from man to man, he stood before them, weighing the situation at hand. “I want
my wife back.” Then he quickly scanned the room, making eye contact with every
man there.
He felt their sympathy. Each of
them had suffered losses to Blackbeard. He was not alone. He prayed they would
support him. He continued speaking, and they listened intently.
“Governor Eden will not cross
Blackbeard. Tobias Knight, we know, will not cross him either. There is too
much to gain from their current arrangement, but we have got to stop this
pillaging,” he said calmly.
“And how do you propose we do
that, kind sir?” another challenged.
Jack swallowed hard and eyed
the man standing meekly at the edge of the crowd. “I propose we go to Virginia
and enlist the support of Alexander Spotswood.”
“Spotswood?” Jack heard the
name murmur and ripple throughout the crowded room.
“Yes,” Jack replied. “Governor
Alexander Spotswood.”
****
Alexander Spotswood sat back in
his chair and listened intently to the conversation around him. The
delegation from the Carolina province had wasted no time
acquainting the governor with their grievances, and Spotswood
listened with noncommittal interest. It was not the first time he’d
heard such complaints.
“The situation as it stands on
the Pamlico Sound is rapidly deteriorating, sir. We simply cannot go on any
longer. We are in dire need of assistance,” William Smythe instructed the
governor.
“And if I might add, sir, he is
practicing utter disregard for the amnesty granted under the King’s
proclamation,” one of the planters said.
“Let me present the affidavit,
sir, from one of the inhabitants of the province. As you can see, Teach’s
insolent behavior is clearly documented.”
Spotswood leaned forward, read
the affidavit, and nodded his agreement.
“And then there is the business
about Governor Eden and Tobias Knight.” Jack Porter stepped forward then to
face Governor Spotswood. “Besides the pillaging and plundering up the entire
Carolina coast and then some, Teach, just in the past few weeks, ransacked and
captured a French vessel laden with sugar, sweetmeats, cotton, and cocoa. It is
rumored, sir, that Tobias Knight and Eden were delivered goods from that cargo
in exchange for papers stating the vessel had been wrecked at sea. And then,
Eden granted Teach permission to burn the ship with the intent to block the
Ocracoke channel. As you may know, Governor, the inlet there is of much
importance to the passage of vessels through the Pamlico Sound to the mainland.
Some of which will venture north to Virginia.”
Spotswood straightened in his
chair and eyed the man who stood before him. “And who may you be, sir?”
“My name is Jack Porter. I’m a
pilot. I make my residence on Ocracoke Island.”
Spotswood raised his chin and
narrowed his gaze at Jack. “So what brings you here with this delegation of
planters and merchants? What stake in this pursuit of the devil-of-the-sea do
you have?”
Jack stared directly at
Spotswood. It was a long moment before he answered. “Each of us here has
suffered at the hands of Captain Edward Teach, sir, some more than others. Some
have surrendered money, some jewels, some sugar and cocoa, some medications. Some
have lost family members. Some have lost their daughter’s pride. I, sir, have
lost my wife—twice. My first wife died at the hands of the bastard. And now, my
present wife has been kidnapped and is, as we speak, held captive aboard his
sloop the Adventure! That, sir, is my stake in coming here to you today.
I want my wife back. I am enlisting your help. I pray it is not too late.”
****
“So you know these waters well,
do you?”
Jack looked at the man leaning
against the ship’s rail beside him. Lieutenant Robert Maynard, commander of the
Pearl, was known as a fire-eater. Jack sure hoped so. He didn’t relish
the idea of going into battle against Teach with a milksop, but from all
indication, Maynard was far from that.
He nodded his affirmation to
Maynard. “Aye. Know them well.”
The afternoon breeze whipped
through their hair as they peered off into the vast ocean. The sun glinted off
the peaks of the waves far out from the sloop. A school of dolphin arched
through the water larboard side. Jack looked down at the curls of waves giving
way from the ship as they sliced through the water. It was good wind, and they
were making excellent time.
It had been a five-day journey,
and they were near the end. They had silently slipped their anchor cables and
sailed down the James River toward Chesapeake Bay on November 17. From there
they bore southward along the barrier islands toward Ocracoke Inlet. And now, cautiously
slipping by Cape Hatteras, avoiding the dangerous shoals lying to the south and
east, they were nearly there. Jack’s restlessness grew with each passing day.
Maynard stepped back and looked
to Jack. “I’ll be needing your expertise to maneuver close to him, and at the
right times. I don’t want the bastard to slip away.”
Jack shook his head. “Nor do I.
I know these waters like I know my woman’s body,” he said as his eyes met with
Maynard’s. “To my way of thinking, Lieutenant, I have more at stake here than
the rest of you. I need your promise that your men will be mindful of my wife
on board the Adventure! I would like my hands to get to know her once
more. I promise you, I’ll find Teach for you. I know where he likes to play. And
I will lead you to him, but my wife…please sir, be mindful of my wife. Once I
get close, I don’t know how much help I can be to get the bastard. My quest is
to see her safely home.”
Maynard eyed Jack and then
nodded in understanding. “You have my promise.”
Jack dropped his head and
lowered his gaze. He knew Maynard’s position. His mission was to take
Blackbeard, dead or alive; anything else was secondary. Jack knew Maynard would
do what he could, but he also knew rescuing Claire would be up to him. Even
though he’d love to stick around and see Teach get his due, he needed more to
get to Claire.
He looked again to Maynard. “Your
charts are outdated. The waters change with the winds. The sands shift, the
shoals fill up, and the squalls change it all again. The channels are unmarked,
but I know where you need to go. You need to have men ready to pole off the
sandbars should we get grounded and have to wait for the tides. Other than
that, you’ll have to rely on the wind and luck…and me.”
Their gazes held, and then
Maynard’s lip curled upward. Jack had made his point. Maynard needed him. “And
by the grace of the good Lord we’ll put the Devil back into Hell.”
###
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