Many of Edward's crew raised their hands, several of whom glanced at their neighbours and friends from the other ship, nodding and smiling at them.
"Choose amongst yourselves who to send, then pack your things and get on with it. You're to follow Roberts' orders as my own, you hear me?"
The crewmates who volunteered responded, "Aye, Captain!"
"Now, there is one other matter which requires a vote from you all," Edward said, bringing the crew's attention back once more. "In this battle, and those to come, lack of speed will be our disadvantage. We barely survived, and I have no doubts that a few extra knots would have saved us. I propose that we fix that. I propose we tear down the forecastle and the poop deck to give us more speed."
Thankfully, the crew seemed to like the plan, and nodded in approval before voting to pass the ship renovations without a debate. They appeared excited to see the ship in better fighting condition after being hurt by the galleon.
Edward took note of how the Queen Anne's Revenge looked in that moment. He tried to ignore the wounds and the battle scars, and instead to focus on how the ship used to look. He wanted to remember his home as it was, and tried to burn that image into his mind.
The three masts with the thick canvas, the decks of carved Caribbean pine, all the way up to the figurehead of Anne at the bow. Over the years, from planks being replaced, Nassir carving the figurehead, and changing sails, many things had changed aboard the ship. This was just one more change to make it their own.
It will still be our home. It will just be more our own that someone else's. More than Benjamin Hornigold's. Edward gritted his teeth. More than Calico Jack's.
It would be a fitting tribute to Calico Jack if he realised who Edward was, and that this used to be his ship. It no longer bore the name he gave it, and it would soon look nothing like it had. In both name and appearance it would soon be Edward's ship, his home, in full.
"By your vote, it shall be done," Edward said.
The crew cheered with the decision, excited to see the change and the added speed. Roberts said his goodbye to Edward and went back to the weather deck to instruct his crew and the new volunteers readying to help him.
After the cheers subsided, Edward waved down Nassir. "Nassir, could I speak with you?"
The tall carpenter nodded and climbed up to the quarterdeck. "What do you need, Captain?" he asked in his thick accent.
"I wanted to have your thoughts on the time situation. How long will we need to repair the holes and remove the decks?"
Nassir rubbed his clean-shaven face as he glanced at the damaged stern and then over to the bow. "It will save us some time with the poop deck if we do not repair it…" Nassir trailed off and mulled it over a bit more. "It won't be pretty, and I'll need many men working day and night, but two days and we should be finished."
Edward nodded with a grin. "She doesn't need to be pretty, she just needs to be fast. Mind the figurehead though; a talented carpenter carved that for me, and I think it goes rather nicely with our ship."
Nassir grinned as well, and thanked Edward before heading off to brief the other men.
Edward then noticed Victoria bringing some planks of wood up from the storage to the stern, and walked over to greet her. "Victoria," he called. She nodded to him, saying nothing and continuing with her work. "Do you have a moment?" he continued.
"No," she replied before dropping the planks and walking back to the quarterdeck steps.
Edward stepped forward, trying to catch her. "I wanted to know if you've been having any issues aboard."
"None," she replied without turning around. She went down the steps, heading towards the stairs to the gun deck, her boots snapping against the wood as she moved.
Edward followed her. "I was also wondering if you could provide some insight on Calico Jack. What types of ships he commands, how many allies he has…"
Victoria turned around just before reaching the steps leading into the belly of the ship. "He commands a ship as any other. I know nothing of his other ships or allies, and I was more a prisoner aboard his ship than sailor, so I cannot tell you anything useful," she said curtly. "Any further questions, or may I return to work?"
Edward shook his head, and Victoria went down the steps to the gun deck. He was left speechless and stock still, as if he were lame of body and mind.
"That one spits fire, doesn't she?" Pukuh asked, coming up beside Edward.
"Yes, she does," Edward replied. "I suppose for a woman to have the courage to board a pirate ship, she would have to be of a certain calibre."
Pukuh nodded. "Far more than you or I, that is sure."
"I believe you are right." Edward stopped staring at the stairs and turned towards his friend. "She isn't fond of me, it seems."
Pukuh shook his head. "No, no, in her eyes there is deep respect for you. I know this. She simply doesn't enjoy chattering about nothing as birds do."
Edward raised his brow. "How do you know this?"
Pukuh chuckled. "She told me," he said. "I tried to see if she knew anything of Calico Jack's old moniker of 'Benjamin Hornigold.' She gave me a look that spoke to her confusion and gave a simple answer. As I pressed, she told me as I told you."
Edward joined Pukuh in laughing, a brief but welcome moment of levity. "Speaking of the pirate with two names, do you recall anything your father might have mentioned about why he turned out this way?"
Pukuh shook his head. "Nothing of note. I don't believe my father was with him throughout all his adventures, but all the stories he did tell were joyous and fantastic in nature. Although, those could have been exaggerated stories for a child, to put them to sleep."
Edward's mouth creased as he thought on it for a moment. "Perhaps we'll have to ask him about it when we see him next."
Pukuh's face was stone. "Perhaps we will… Of course, it would have to be after we inform him of how this happened first," he said, looking at where his right arm used to be.
Edward paused for a moment, thinking over whether he should ask what he wanted to ask. "I imagine it's not something you take joy in talking of, but how is your arm?"
Pukuh grinned as he looked at his right shoulder. "I believe you would call this a stump, no? Not much of an arm anymore."
Edward chuckled nervously. "I suppose not."
Pukuh's grin faded as he eyed the scarred and bumpy remnants of his right arm at the base of his shoulder. The skin had covered up the wound from so long ago, and some of the colour had come back to it, but scars from the hasty amputation remained white and jagged, streaking across his shoulder and over to his chest.
"I still feel it, you know," Pukuh said, glancing at Edward. "In the darkness of night, when I first wake, it itches, but when I reach over to scratch it there's nothing there. The itch remains… Do you ever have an itch that you cannot scratch? It is frustrating, is it not?"
Edward shook his head. "The worst," he replied.
Pukuh nodded. "Imagine that, but never the ability to scratch."
"If only there were some way to help you," Edward said with a sigh.
"Do not mistake me," Pukuh said, shaking his finger. "The itch is a useful reminder. It reminds me of my weakness, and pushes me not to slack in my training."
Edward chuckled. "Only you would enjoy such a burden."
"Perhaps," Pukuh replied. "I should return to work, you said you wanted more speed for this ship, did you not?" He punched Edward in the arm, and then joined a group of men receiving instruction for the removal of the cabins.
Edward peered around the ship and noticed that his men were now boarding the Fortune, and they seemed to be making final preparations to leave. He walked over to see Roberts still on the Queen Anne's Revenge, greeting and thanking the men boarding to help them.
"Departing so soon?" Edward asked with a smirk.
Roberts grinned as well. "Yes, well, a certain captain wishes me to leave, and he's got a rather short fuse from what I've seen."
Edward folded his
arms. "Oh, is that so?" After a moment of staring Roberts down, the two burst into laughter. After another moment they ceased laughing, but Edward still carried the smile. "Safe travels, friend. Find Walter Kennedy and give him hell," he said.
"I shall," Roberts said before tipping his hat. "We'll be watching the seas for your return in three days."
"We'll be there," Edward replied.
Roberts crossed the gangplank connecting their ships, and the crews released the bonds tying the vessels together. The two ships drifted apart for a few moments, and when there was enough room the Fortune's sails were loosed and it took off north towards Providencia.
Both crews shouted and waved as they sent off their brethren. The sun shone bright that afternoon as they parted. Before long, the Fortune had become a dot on the horizon and soon the light reflecting off the water hid it from view.
Herbert gave the order to loose the sails and the Queen Anne's Revenge began crawling towards Providencia as well. Herbert made sure the sails were as full as could be, but not as much as when they had been trying to escape the galleon. Too much pressure on the masts over an extended period of time could wear them down.
After the Fortune was out of sight, Edward walked up to the quarterdeck. Some of the men were already working with Nassir on removing the planks from the poop deck. They started with the top planks and worked their way back. Nassir did his best to instruct them in the proper removal to save the wood, but more often than not they were too hasty. Edward hoped that by the time they reached the forecastle the men would have enough experience and patience.
Edward walked over to Herbert, who was at the helm. "Herbert, how much speed do you feel these modifications will gain us?"
Herbert turned to examine the men at work on the poop deck, and then glanced over at the forecastle. "It's tough to say… Perhaps one to two knots at most."
"That would put us only a few knots below Roberts' ship, no?"
Herbert nodded. "It would close the gap a bit, yes."
Edward smirked and stroked his beard. "Perhaps we should challenge them to a race when they're laden down with cargo? Then we may be an even match."
Herbert chuckled. "Perhaps."
There was a moment of silence between the two of them, and the sounds surrounding them filtered back in—the banging of hammers, the grunts and shouts of the men, the gust of wind and the splashes of sea water against the hull.
"We can't keep fighting each other as we have been," Edward said, peering at Herbert from the corner of his eye. "You know that… yes?"
Herbert raised his brow as he looked at Edward. "I know that. Do you?"
Edward stared at Herbert for a moment, the gaze lingering. In Herbert's eyes and tone, he detected a hint of annoyance. After taking his punishment, Herbert was rightfully upset at the way he had been treated. Edward had realised he'd wronged Herbert after Roberts berated him back in Panama, but his pride wouldn't allow him to apologise.
Edward removed his gaze and instead peered towards the bow at the water crashing against the figurehead and spraying onto the deck. "If what Calico Jack did in Bodden Town is any indication, he will try to split us apart more than ever before. We must stand together."
Herbert stopped staring at Edward and he too focussed on the sails and sea and ship in front of them. "I believe in the family you have created, and I believe in you. I know I may not have shown it very well over the past weeks, but I do. I know I have a weakness, but this family is my strength. You've reminded me of that. You conquered a town, you've gained us an ally beyond compare, and you've brought men together and made them better men by your example. Our family alone is what will help us weather the coming storm, and I will never take that for granted again."
Edward looked at Herbert, and there was no denying the resolve in his eyes. Edward nodded, and then smirked when he recalled something Pukuh had said to him in Bodden Town.
Herbert grinned and turned his head to the side. "What?"
"I trust in what you've said, and I will trust in you, but one of your statements is wrong."
Herbert cocked his brow. "Oh?"
"We are the storm."
17. A Personal Decision
Clouds covered the afternoon sun, blocking most of its light from reaching the sea. The wind became colder and more biting the longer the clouds lingered. Heat never seemed to last on the surface of the sea, and the splashing water only cooled the ship and crew further.
Even Edward, in his thick coat, layered on top of undershirts, and breeches and boots covering every inch of him, shuddered as the mist of the sea touched his face. "How can it never be that we are neither hot nor cold? Why must it be one extreme or the other?"
Christina chuckled daintily. "You would think after many years at sea you would be accustomed to the weather."
"One being accustomed to something and enjoying it are separate matters."
"Should I fetch you a blanket, oh Blackbeard the wicked?" Christina asked with a smirk.
"No, thank you," Edward replied, ignoring her jibe. "Tala will keep me warm, won't you girl?"
Tala's head was resting on her paws. When she heard her name, she glanced at Edward, but then ignored him.
Edward frowned, and Christina laughed. "Well, I suppose not," he said.
He peered out to the bow, towards their destination, Providencia, somewhere off on the northern horizon. Two hours prior, when the weather was fair, though hot, they had passed by the island of San Andrés. From Herbert's estimation they were one hour from seeing Providencia on the horizon, and two from landing.
The Queen Anne's Revenge now had no forecastle, and, aside from the masts and the sails, they were better able to see off the bow than ever before. The railing still needed some work, but Nassir had managed a crude implementation for the time being. The stern was another matter. The holes were repaired, and the ceiling for the stern cabin was in place, but there hadn't been enough time to cut or sand the edges. Some of the planks jutted out off the hull as if screaming out about the rushed nature in which they had been put together.
Nassir was still doing his best to fix the appearance, but planing wood by hand was tough work for an already exhausted man, and he was the only one capable. Edward had ordered him to rest for the day, as it could wait for another.
On a positive note, they had been testing their speed since the change, and there was a noticeable difference of a knot or two depending on the wind. Herbert's prediction had been on the nose, and the crew were thankful for it. Most of all, the men were excited to test their new speed in battle.
William had recovered even more over the course of the few days' travel, and had returned to full duty. He used his expertise to guide and instruct the men in maintaining the sails. The men were still getting used to the new speed and the way the wind travelled over the ship, and William helped speed that process up.
After adjustments necessary from the change in weather, William returned to the quarterdeck. "Captain, you'll be happy to note we're travelling close to fourteen knots."
Edward nodded. "I am pleased to hear that. Glad to have you running this crew, William."
William gave a slight bow. "The pleasure is all mine."
"How's your chest? Still giving you trouble?"
William shook his head. "There's still slight pain when exerting myself, but aside from that I cannot feel a thing."
Christina whistled. "You heal quickly. I recall it taking some time for me to heal after Plague attacked me. I was still feeling the pain for weeks after it happened."
Edward recalled the assassin called Plague sent after him long ago, and what had happened to Christina. She had been lucky to survive a dagger to the stomach.
"Nonsense," William said. "You have a youthful, strong body. Had another been attacked in the same place they would not have fared as well as you had."
Christina was taken aback by the compliment at first, but then grew a devilish grin for a brief moment before switching to a shocked e
xpression. "Youthful and strong? My dear William, I've never known you to flirt with a young woman's affections. And in front of my brother, no less." Christina fanned her face with her hand, feigning a swooning fit.
In a rare display, William's jaw went agape and he looked aghast. "I… That is…"
Herbert, nearby at the helm, shook his head. "Shameful, William. Simply shameful."
William stammered an attempt at a reply, but couldn't gather his wits to produce one.
Edward burst out laughing, which sent the other two into a fit as well. William glanced from person to person, and slowly closed his mouth and stood up straight.
William coughed. "That was not amusing."
The laughter of the three subsided into low snickering. Edward grabbed William's shoulder for support. "I'm afraid you'll have to forgive us, William, for we'll have to disagree with you. If only you could have seen your face," he said, grinning widely.
Before William could object any further, a mate shouted "Captain!" down from the crow's nest.
Edward and the rest looked up to the mate near the top of the main mast. "What do you see?"
"Two ships, north north-west. They're engaged in battle."
Edward looked off the bow, but couldn't see anything unaided. "Tell me when you're able to see what class the ships are."
The man in the crow's nest nodded. "Aye, Captain."
"Could it be Roberts?" Christina asked as she tugged at the rose pendant around her neck.
"We can't be sure, but if it is him he may need our help. We can afford a slight detour if necessary. William, Herbert, send us straight in the path of those ships."
"Aye, Captain," the two of them replied in unison. Herbert turned the wheel a few degrees to port, while William instructed the crew in adjusting the sails to maintain their speed. In no time, they were heading north north-west, straight at the two fighting ships.
Anne came running up to the quarterdeck. "Why have we changed course?" she asked.
"There are two ships fighting ahead of us, and we're heading to intercept."
Blackbeard's Justice (The Voyages of Queen Anne's Revenge Book 3) Page 21