Read Online Bring It Close by Helen Hollick - Free Book Online

bearing. Lieutenant Teach was now an officer and a man of importance, and he ensured all knew it.
    “Be we t’go ashore?” he asked gruffly, the burr of his accent making him seem slow and ponderous, though St Croix knew him to have a sharp, quick intelligence. “Cap’n Morgan be a man of m’own heart an’ thinkin’, or so I b’lieve tell.”
    Charles St Croix did not look round. He regretted giving Teach the extra authority, for he was using it with malice and cruelty. The hope that perhaps a position of command would tame the fellow had been misplaced. He revelled in inflicting fear and pain on those who could not fight back.
    “Aye, you are much like Morgan,” Charles observed. “You care not who stumbles into your path. If someone – male, female, adult or child – stands in your way you crush them beneath your boot with no thought or compassion. Morgan would break a man’s back to ensure a fast passage, and break a ship too, if it suited him. As will you.”
    Teach folded his arms, squinted into the evening sun, its blood-red reflection blazing upon the water. “There be always more crew, always another ship; bain’t often a chance at treasure. Tha’ way worked fer Morgan, it’d work fer me an’ all.”
    Not looking at his second officer, St Croix remained staring across the harbour at Port Royal, said, “Morgan took what he wanted with pistol and blade. He thought nothing of starving a man to death or slicing open the belly of a woman, though she be great with child. ‘Spanish turds,’ he would say, ‘they deserve to die.’” He looked at the darkening hills of Jamaica, the lights beginning to glimmer along the shore, in the town and from the ships. “I was a boy when first I sailed with Morgan. I once thought him a fine man.”
    “He still be a gurt man,” Teach protested, “Looken where he be now! Knighted by tha King. No un’ll forget his name I’d wager; ‘til Trumpets sound he’ll be ‘membered. As’ll I if’n it please God or tha Devil. As’ll I.”
    The sun sank into the sea and the sky darkened.
    “Who’ll ‘member thee, Cap’n St Croix?” Teach asked quietly into the night. “Who’ll be carin’ t’ r‘member thee?”

    Aye, Morgan had been remembered. He had died with his body diseased with dropsy and his great belly bulging so far that his coat would not fasten around it. The rum he insisted on continuing to drink had drowned his innards and his sense. So desperate had he been for his name to pass forward, his will had made clear that his sole male kin, his nephew on his wife’s side, could inherit only if he took the name of Morgan.
    And where was he now, the legendary Captain Henry Morgan? He was beneath the sea, his grave gone, lost, and forgotten. There had come a great quake in Port Royal, the earth had split and crumbled, and the sea had swallowed much of the town whole. The destruction so complete they had rebuilt as Kingston, Jamaica, on the far side of the bay. Port Royal had become nothing more than a naval base. The sea goddess, Tethys, had claimed her own and Morgan was nothing more than a name from the past.
    Charles St Croix sat alone beside the River, remembering.
    What of Teach? Ah, even then, Teach had spoken as one who had traded his soul with the Devil.

Ten
    Jesamiah’s plan was to give chase, get in as close as he could, then send the two pirate ships scurrying for their lives. Simple. Except nothing concerning Edward Teach was ever simple.
    Every pirate traded on a formidable conduct. To be feared was to be successful, it made sense to cultivate a strong reputation. Why fight if you could convince your victim to surrender with a minimum of resistance? Teach had adopted a fearsome identity, even down to his terrifying appearance and usage of the name Blackbeard. Despite his far from young age, in a fight he remained an awesome sight; tall, with a physique of limitless strength and endurance. He had no fear of death and thought himself