Devil's Ballast

by Meg Caddy

  ‘That was a close thing,’ I said, ignoring his comment as Read helped me to my feet.

  ‘All thunder, no lightning,’ Cunningham said. ‘They’re gone now, and that’s what matters. Welcome, Anne.’ He nodded to Read. ‘Thank you for delivering her safely to us,’ he said and I felt a flicker of irritation at the tone. Read met my gaze, his lips quirking. He obviously felt the dismissal in Cunningham’s words. He extended a hand to me.

  ‘Anne Bonny,’ he said. ‘It has been a pleasure.’

  I took his hand. His grip was warm, rough with calluses. I didn’t want him to go.

  ‘They’re searching tonight. You need to stay at least until they sail.’

  A smile flitted across his face. ‘Thousands of harbour rats live here in Havana, Bonny,’ he said. ‘What is one more? They can search. They will not find me.’

  Across the days stuck in Barnet’s brig, during our escape in Cuba, I had found myself enjoying Read’s company. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a real friend. And though the Cunninghams were friends of Calico’s, they were strangers to me. Strangers who lived a land-locked life I could not understand.

  ‘Goodbye, Read,’ I said. How could I thank him? How could I even begin?

  I watched as Read took his gun and his bag. Kept watching as he slung them over his shoulders and stole out the door.

  15

  BARNET

  So: they were gone. Read and the woman, in the dead of night.

  Barnet had had the boy Oliver soundly beaten. He sobbed and whimpered like the pup he was but had no helpful information. Apparently he had come out onto the deck just in time to see the boat disappearing between two other ships in the harbour. Whether they had gone ashore or found another ship Barnet did not know. He would do his best to find out but Havana was the third-largest city in the Americas. People drifted in and out with the tides and he knew it would be, for the most part, a futile effort.

  But he had offered a reward and word had spread, and a dozen drunk sailors and their whores had been brought to him. No sign of Bonny or Read.

  Now he paced the length of the Albion. Barnet was a man of decision, unaccustomed to uncertainty. The deck was always shifting beneath his feet but the rest of his world was fixed: God and England. King and Country. An end to all pirates.

  His treacherous mind crept now towards the fire and fear that had given him his purpose. The roar of guns, the screams of women. The breath that snarled in his chest as he pressed into the shadows and prayed to God for mercy.

  Shaken, he cast the thoughts from his mind. That was long years ago, and he was a better man now. He could not allow the shadow of the past to bring him to his knees. Barnet turned on his heel and went along the deck. His hands were locked behind his back to keep them from shaking. No crewman would see weakness on his bearing, but he was torn.

  His baser instinct was to stay in Havana, to pursue this godless woman and the man who had betrayed him. The woman might be bait to Rackham—but maybe not. Perhaps she meant nothing to him, and he had already moved on to another whore. It was not worth the risk. Staying to hunt out Bonny and Read would mean neglecting his pursuit of the rest of the horde. He had a responsibility, and a duty. He had a commission.

  ‘Captain?’ Johnson, a stout fellow who had taken over as the main helmsman, stood straighter as his captain approached. He was carrying a coil of rope but he set it down and stood with his hands respectfully held behind his back. Johnson had once been a military man. He knew how to treat a captain with respect.

  ‘We leave on the morning tide,’ Barnet said.

  ‘And our bearing, sir?’

  ‘We sail for New Providence Island.’ He might not find Rackham in Nassau, the port city of New Providence, but he would find the governor, Woodes Rogers—a man committed to stamping out piracy. If Barnet was to receive any sort of aid, he would find it there.

  16

  BONNY

  Time rolled in and out like the breakers. Calico was off in the wide world somewhere and all I could do was count the tides until I could join him. Read took a job as a stevedore. I saw him every now and again on the docks, rolling barrels and smoking pipes with the other dock-lads. Sometimes our eyes met. He would smile and nod and walk on. I think he felt that the Cunninghams mistrusted him, and he had no wish to linger around them.

  It was a loss. Read was one of the few people who had ever known it all and still treated me like a person. Calico, too; but it was complicated with Calico. Read, although I had only known him for a short time, was my friend.

  Not that there was anything wrong with Walter and Rose Cunningham. Calico had grown up with Walter. He had a quiet, wicked sense of humour that I knew Calico would warm to. Rose was like a small hurricane, rattling from one end of the house to another, always on the move. I liked her. Formidable women reminded me of my mother, who during her life had never settled for anything less than exactly what she wanted.

  Everyone else seemed to like Rose, too. She had a frank, comical way of talking that drew people to her. As a result there was a constant stream of people through the house during the day. They came to sew and cook and talk and I couldn’t possibly hide. Eventually Rose put about that I was her cousin, left in a bad way by a careless sailor. The other women clucked their tongues and side-eyed me. Some of them asked uncomfortable questions, but soon their interest died. Either they knew intuitively that Rose would be raising the child, or she had spoken to them quietly about it. It quelled the questions and the gossip—and kept me safe, for the time being, from the rumours and questions that floated along the docks under Barnet’s directive. It also meant I had to sit and sew with them. A few years before, when I lived in my father’s house in Charles Town, I would have seen sewing as unendurable torture. I still didn’t enjoy it, but at least I was safe. Safe and bored.

  I wished Calico was there. He would have made it fun. He would have teased me, insulted me, brought me food or pretty things from the market on the hard days. It should have been both of us marking my impressive girth, or counting the number of times I had to get up in the night and piss.

  The thought made me morose. I knew there were many women who were left behind in ports while their men went off to sea. I’d just never thought I would be one of them.

  I sat on a jetty one afternoon, seven months along, watching the ships and feeling the insistent wriggle and kick of Calico’s baby. Rose had told me she was sure it was a girl from the way it sat. I hoped not. I would find it much harder to leave a girl, even though I knew the Cunninghams would do their best for her. The world was no place for girls.

  Shaking my head, I laced my fingers across my stomach. The child would be fine, girl or boy. I would sail away and not look back. I had been doing it all my life. It ran in my family, after all. My father had always been good at cutting his losses.

  ‘Hungry?’

  I jolted. Martin Read sat himself down beside me, barefoot and comfortable in breeches and a loose shirt. He’d clearly been working in the sun for most of the time since I’d seen him last. Bitterness twisted in me. I’d had to wear Rose’s old clothes for months. They were heavy and hot and I preferred a man’s garb. I put my envy aside for a moment.

  ‘It’s been a while,’ I said.

  ‘Been busy.’ He handed me a banana.

  ‘Too busy to visit the criminal you freed and ran away with?’

  He shrugged, as if that was a reply, and fished into his pocket for his pipe and tobacco.

  ‘Five months and scarcely a nod, and now we’re having lunch together?’ I peeled the banana in any case and took a bite. ‘What’s the occasion, Read?’

  He lit the pipe. ‘You look well,’ he said, ignoring my question. ‘And fat.’

  I laughed through my mouthful. I really liked this strange, secretive man who had saved my life. I didn’t even mind that he dodged my questions and wanted to float in and out of my life like driftwood.

  ‘Are you on your own?’ he asked. From ano
ther man the question would have triggered unease. Not from Read.

  ‘No.’ I nodded over my shoulder. ‘Rose and Walter are haggling over fishing tackle. Or rice, or something like that. I couldn’t stand it much longer so I came away to watch the ships.’

  ‘Not suited for domesticity, are you?’

  I shrugged. ‘Short life and a merry one, isn’t that what they say?’

  ‘Who says that?’

  ‘I don’t know. Pirates, probably.’

  He snorted. ‘Have you heard from your captain yet?’

  My smile faded. ‘No. I still can’t believe I only missed him by one day. Wretched timing.’ I had lamented this to Rose and Walter until they were tired of hearing it. ‘Would it have killed him to wait for me just a day longer?’

  ‘It might have.’

  I hated how true it was.‘I know, I know. It’s just lonely.’ The words surprised me. When had I ever complained of being lonely?

  He shrugged again. ‘For me, also.’

  I glanced at him. ‘What?’

  ‘Is this such a surprise?’

  ‘There’s a profound difference between you and me, Read: I’m a mouthy little bastard, and you’re not. You play nice—I wouldn’t think you’d have too much trouble making friends.’

  He seemed amused but didn’t comment, blowing out rings of smoke. ‘Come for a walk?’ he said at last.

  ‘Let me tell the Cunninghams first, or they’ll pine for me.’

  Rose and Walter weren’t thrilled by the notion of me walking off with a man who was still a stranger to them, but over the months they had come to understand how long I could hold an argument. They asked me to be back before dark—I told them I would consider it—and then I joined Read strolling along the docks.

  ‘They seem like reasonable people,’ Read said.‘Decent.’

  They were. No wonder I felt lonely.

  ‘So where are we going?’

  He just grinned. I had a passing moment of doubt. I didn’t like putting myself in someone else’s hands. I trusted Read but I had trusted people before, and where were they now? My father was somewhere in Charles Town, childless. My husband was somewhere in Nassau, hating me, wanting me back just to hurt me. And who knew where Calico was? Somewhere out on the wild sea, if he was still alive.

  The worst thing about being pregnant, and there were many bad things, was that I had to stop and be alone with my thoughts for such a stretch of time.

  Read led me to a small wooden building by the rocky shore, away from the wild buzz of the city centre. The land cut off sharply there, with a drop about as tall as I was. Several small boats bobbed in the water, tied to a rickety jetty that stretched over the waves. There was a carpentry bench out in the sun, and several half-finished projects scattered around.

  I could hear music and loud laughter, male laughter, and my first instinct was to pull back and return to the Cunninghams. If I’d been dressed as a boy I wouldn’t have minded but it was a different matter when I was in skirts. Then I heard women laughing as well and some of the tension left my shoulders.

  We rounded the corner. A small group was sitting around with drinks and food. A stocky, bearded young man was playing a fiddle; he looked over and grinned as we approached but he didn’t stop playing.

  ‘These are the musicians and players of the Jeremiah and Anne,’ Read said. ‘They’re here for a few weeks, awaiting orders.’

  ‘Orders from whom?’

  ‘Bartholomew Roberts.’

  I froze before we reached them. ‘What?’

  Bartholomew Roberts was the best pirate on the sea. Bar none. The Welshman caught more ships in his career than Blackbeard ever had. He had a whole fleet.

  ‘They don’t…look like Roberts’ men.’

  ‘How did you expect Roberts’ men to look?’

  ‘Less fun. How do you know them?’

  ‘Read’s been loading and unloading for us these past few months,’ the fiddler said, cutting in on us. He drew the bow across the string to finish the song and stood, extending a hand to me. ‘Darling.’

  I raised an eyebrow. ‘Steady on. We’ve just met.’

  ‘This is Willum Darling,’ Read said. ‘Darling, this is Anne Bonny.’

  I felt I would never get used to hearing my full name. I had always been Anne to my husband, Annie to Jack, and Bonny to the crew and Read.

  ‘Nice to know you, bonny Bonny.’ He stood and let me have the stool. Usually I would have stood anyway, just to spite him, but my back ached and my feet were sore.

  ‘And you, darling Darling,’ I said, settling down. ‘What’s a musician doing with Black Bart’s fleet?’

  Darling shrugged and put his bow back to his fiddle. ‘Captain likes music,’ he said. ‘What’s a well-spoken lady like you doing with a grunt like Read?’

  ‘I had some trouble with a fellow named Barnet,’ I said. ‘Read helped me out.’

  ‘Jonathan Barnet?’ Darling asked.

  ‘You know him?’

  ‘Of him. We’ve dodged him before but he’s never chased us properly. Read, you used to work under him, aye?’

  Read shrugged, already refilling his pipe. Smoking wasn’t practical at sea where the risk of fire was so great, but Read seemed to be making up for the lost time.

  ‘I heard he ran afoul of Blackbeard.’ A blonde lass dropped onto Read’s lap. Read didn’t push her away but he looked like he wanted to.

  ‘Blackbeard?’ Darling snorted. ‘No, Peggy. Edward Teach wasn’t working the Charles Town round until just two years shy of his death. No, from what I hear Jonathan Barnet’s grudge against our lot is longer and harder than anything Blackbeard could impress. Rumour has it he was a hand on a ship that got took by Henry Avery.’

  The blonde woman cuddled up to Read, who ignored her.

  ‘Who is Henry Avery?’ he asked, clearly trying to divert her attention.

  ‘Was. Well, we think so. Might be alive I suppose.’ Darling answered for her. He was still playing, the bow tipping back and forth as music spun from the fiddle. ‘He disappeared a few years ago, presumably taking his riches with him. He was a hard bastard, though.’

  ‘So is Barnet,’ I said.

  ‘Makes sense. Anyhow, story goes that Barnet was a young fellow and Avery took the ship. Passenger ship, with women aboard. Tortured them all, murdered most of them, took everything they had. Barnet survived.’

  ‘That would do it,’ Read said. ‘Shame settles deeper than anger.’

  The blonde woman, bored, slid off his lap and went to find another man to tease.

  ‘Plenty of people survive pirate attacks,’ I said with a shrug. ‘Doesn’t mean they come after us like the Devil’s cracking the lash.’

  Darling cocked his head, a small smile parting his thick beard. ‘Us?’ he asked.

  ‘Why did Barnet survive?’ I asked.

  ‘Who knows? Perhaps he made a deal with Avery’s crew.’

  Read snorted. ‘Hardly,’ he said. ‘Not a man of compromise.’

  ‘Ah, you’d be surprised,’ Darling said, with the lofty wisdom of someone perhaps a year older than Read. ‘Barnet would only have been a boy at the time. Fear can do funny things to a young ’un.’

  I thought of my husband and couldn’t argue.

  17

  BARNET

  Governor Woodes Rogers was a stocky, strong-looking man. He was a sailor with a hard face and clear, clever eyes. He must have been forty years old or so, roughly the same age as Barnet himself. He came forward to meet Barnet and clasped his hand, almost as if they were equals.

  ‘Captain Barnet,’ he said. ‘I hear you have been a champion of our particular cause. I am gratified to find a man so committed to the eradication of piracy in our waters.’

  Barnet bowed slightly. He did not voice his private opinion that Woodes Rogers had been too lenient in offering pardons to this point. ‘I am glad to do my part.’

  ‘And you are currently in pursuit?’

  ‘Yes, sir. John R
ackham and his crew.’

  A smile flickered across Rogers’ lips. ‘Ah,’ he said.

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘I wonder, Captain Barnet, how much you know of this particular crew.’

  ‘As it turns out, sir…’ Barnet cleared his throat. ‘For a while we had a captive. Unfortunately…she escaped.’

  Rogers raised an eyebrow. ‘Anne Bonny.’

  Barnet stiffened. ‘You know of her, sir?’

  ‘We had an encounter. Not a woman to be taken lightly, I think. She is manipulative and cunning, Captain Barnet. I am not surprised she escaped you.’

  ‘I believe she seduced one of my crewmen, who disappeared that same day.’

  ‘I would not be surprised.’ Rogers sat back, studying Barnet. ‘So. How may I assist?’

  ‘Men, sir, and arms,’ Barnet said. ‘We have pushed our funds and our rations in chasing these pirates. My crew grow thin and restless. Some have absconded already. With your assistance, however, I believe we can bring Calico Jack to heel. Make an example of him.’

  Rogers steepled his hands. ‘When I came to Nassau, the town was a lawless pit of drink, disease and debauchery,’ he said.

  Barnet knew this to be true. There had been no government; pirates had run everything. Rogers had forced order onto the town with little more than a few dedicated men and his will.

  ‘I knew piracy had to be eradicated in order to bring trade and prosperity to New Providence Island. But I wonder what stirs you, Captain Barnet. It is not often we see men petitioning for a commission to hunt pirates. There is little profit in the endeavour. Before I commit finance or men to your cause I wish to know why.’

  ‘I have seen first-hand the evil pirates bring upon the world, sir.’ Barnet hoped this would suffice as an answer but Rogers just kept staring at him. ‘The pirate Henry Avery, sir. I was a cabin boy.’ His muscles were locked, so tense they ached. He clenched his jaw. He could still feel every strike and blow from the beating. He could still hear every scream. ‘Avery was a man without honour. God spared me from a slow and bloody death. I must believe He did so for a reason. If that reason is to rid the ocean of piracy, then I will do my duty.’