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Authors: Helen Hollick
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invincible. There were few who doubted he had made a pact with the Devil.
Sea Witch had to tack twice, but she was a fast ship and whenever the variable wind shifted in her favour she ate up the sea miles as if she were a dolphin leaping through the white-capped surf.
“We’ll tack again, Rue,” Jesamiah said, “then one more should bring us in on a suitable course to intercept them.”
Rue nodded, peering at the expanse of sail. He was not particularly happy with this venture. Blackbeard’s reputation was feared by every man who sailed the Caribbean and American coast. A few minutes later, when the yards had been trundled round, the braces hauled and Sea Witch had settled comfortably on her new tack, he said, “You once told me you ‘ad fought alongside Blackbeard. I did not know whether to believe you.”
“Am I so poor to convince then?” Jesamiah chuckled, watching Nathan Crocker’s final round of gun inspection; frowned as his first mate reprimanded the number four gun captain for not having his slow match made ready. There was a brief exchange of harsh words, Jesamiah waited, would intervene if necessary, but Nat had been a lieutenant aboard a Navy frigate. He knew his job, and was good at it. The gunner backed down, ambling away to fetch a match from the below deck store. It would be a while yet before the fight, but once engaged on a Chase Jesamiah never took chances.
“If you’d rather be demoted to deckhand, Crawford, I’m sure it can be arranged!” Nat shouted at the man. Crawford scowled, picked up his pace to a jogtrot. Jesamiah made a mental note to keep a weather eye on him. This was not the first time he had shown a lack of enthusiasm.
“I spent a week aboard a ship with Teach,” Jesamiah confessed to Rue. “I was a few months off eighteen, m’head filled with pride at being made foretopman aboard the Mermaid under Captain Malachias Taylor. He was a good man, good sailor; what he didn’t know about ships and the sea was not worth knowing. England was at war – another bickering waste of time squabble that fat Queen Anne had initiated with the damned Frenchies. I’ve no idea what it was about. We never asked the whys and wherefores of things in those days.”
“As we still do not, mon ami ,” Rue chortled. “I ‘eard it that les anglais put the fracas down to a disagreement about the Spanish line of succession, non ? Though the Colonies see it different and call it ‘Queen Anne’s War’. They say it was fought over who governed which territory and ‘eld which fort. I ‘eard les français fought admirably against you English for what they considered their land.”
Realising that he had been derogatory about the French, Jesamiah waved his hand dismissively. “Pah, you’re Breton, Rue. I don’t count you as a Frog.”
“I am pleased to ‘ear it.”
“Since when have you been keen to hoist your colours for the French anyway?”
Rue adjusted the helm slightly, shifted his weight more squarely onto his widespread feet. Grinned. “I ‘oist them for myself, mon ami . For myself and my comrades.”
With his keen sight, Jesamiah measured the closing distance between the Sea Witch and the two rapidly nearing pirate vessels. “Talking of colours; Sandy, hoist mine if you will.”
From the rail the African second mate, Isiah Roberts, rubbed at his nose. “You think that wise Captain? The Fortune will be mighty worried at seeing three of us in her wake.”
“It’s Teach I want to fool, Isiah. We need to get in close to show him the error of his ways. Have you any other suggestions for trying to convince him we are on his side?”
Isiah said nothing more, Sandy sent the black flag with the white leering skull and crossed bones to the top of the mizzenmast where it streamed, whipping and cracking, in arrogant menace.
“You were saying about Teach?”
“What? Oh aye.” Jesamiah had been watching the bend of the sails and the distance the Sea Witch had travelled these
Sea Witch had to tack twice, but she was a fast ship and whenever the variable wind shifted in her favour she ate up the sea miles as if she were a dolphin leaping through the white-capped surf.
“We’ll tack again, Rue,” Jesamiah said, “then one more should bring us in on a suitable course to intercept them.”
Rue nodded, peering at the expanse of sail. He was not particularly happy with this venture. Blackbeard’s reputation was feared by every man who sailed the Caribbean and American coast. A few minutes later, when the yards had been trundled round, the braces hauled and Sea Witch had settled comfortably on her new tack, he said, “You once told me you ‘ad fought alongside Blackbeard. I did not know whether to believe you.”
“Am I so poor to convince then?” Jesamiah chuckled, watching Nathan Crocker’s final round of gun inspection; frowned as his first mate reprimanded the number four gun captain for not having his slow match made ready. There was a brief exchange of harsh words, Jesamiah waited, would intervene if necessary, but Nat had been a lieutenant aboard a Navy frigate. He knew his job, and was good at it. The gunner backed down, ambling away to fetch a match from the below deck store. It would be a while yet before the fight, but once engaged on a Chase Jesamiah never took chances.
“If you’d rather be demoted to deckhand, Crawford, I’m sure it can be arranged!” Nat shouted at the man. Crawford scowled, picked up his pace to a jogtrot. Jesamiah made a mental note to keep a weather eye on him. This was not the first time he had shown a lack of enthusiasm.
“I spent a week aboard a ship with Teach,” Jesamiah confessed to Rue. “I was a few months off eighteen, m’head filled with pride at being made foretopman aboard the Mermaid under Captain Malachias Taylor. He was a good man, good sailor; what he didn’t know about ships and the sea was not worth knowing. England was at war – another bickering waste of time squabble that fat Queen Anne had initiated with the damned Frenchies. I’ve no idea what it was about. We never asked the whys and wherefores of things in those days.”
“As we still do not, mon ami ,” Rue chortled. “I ‘eard it that les anglais put the fracas down to a disagreement about the Spanish line of succession, non ? Though the Colonies see it different and call it ‘Queen Anne’s War’. They say it was fought over who governed which territory and ‘eld which fort. I ‘eard les français fought admirably against you English for what they considered their land.”
Realising that he had been derogatory about the French, Jesamiah waved his hand dismissively. “Pah, you’re Breton, Rue. I don’t count you as a Frog.”
“I am pleased to ‘ear it.”
“Since when have you been keen to hoist your colours for the French anyway?”
Rue adjusted the helm slightly, shifted his weight more squarely onto his widespread feet. Grinned. “I ‘oist them for myself, mon ami . For myself and my comrades.”
With his keen sight, Jesamiah measured the closing distance between the Sea Witch and the two rapidly nearing pirate vessels. “Talking of colours; Sandy, hoist mine if you will.”
From the rail the African second mate, Isiah Roberts, rubbed at his nose. “You think that wise Captain? The Fortune will be mighty worried at seeing three of us in her wake.”
“It’s Teach I want to fool, Isiah. We need to get in close to show him the error of his ways. Have you any other suggestions for trying to convince him we are on his side?”
Isiah said nothing more, Sandy sent the black flag with the white leering skull and crossed bones to the top of the mizzenmast where it streamed, whipping and cracking, in arrogant menace.
“You were saying about Teach?”
“What? Oh aye.” Jesamiah had been watching the bend of the sails and the distance the Sea Witch had travelled these
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