William didn't respond; he had probably heard the same argument from Pukuh before she awoke. The two simply waited for Anne, their commander and current captain, to speak.
Anne, for her part, being well-rested and high off their recent victory, saw no purpose in rushing into doom. That Sam knew of the tunnel meant Silver Eyes knew of the tunnel.
"Pukuh, are you familiar with the phrase 'the better part of valour is discretion'?"
Pukuh took a bite from his bread, meat, and cheese. "No," he replied, his cheeks full.
"It is from one of our great playwrights, and it means that caution is better than blind bravery."
Pukuh nodded. "Ah, I see. So, the savage is not smart as you are."
Anne was taken aback at Pukuh's comment as she had only known the Mayan prince to be a kind and affable man. "My apologies, Pukuh, that was not my intent. I am merely trying to—"
Pukuh held up his hand. "Save your air for later. If Edward were here, the Silver man would have his head on my spear on the walls now."
Pukuh's raised voice brought the attention of the crewmates nearby, and many were visibly uncomfortable and glancing at the scene over their shoulders.
Anne took a moment to gather herself, then stared into Pukuh's eyes. "You may be right. Edward may have finished this by now, but Edward is not here. In his place, I am your captain, and I give the orders to the crew of this ship." She paused for a moment to let her words hang in the air. "I understand your frustration with how I am approaching this matter, and I'll take it under review. Having said that, I can assure you that sooner rather than later, that spear of yours will see its fair share of blood. Can I count on you to be there when the time comes?"
Pukuh didn't reply, he simply stared Anne down for a long moment. She held his gaze, unwavering, as she sat stock still in her chair.
Another moment more, and Pukuh grinned. "You'll get your spear, princess," he finally said.
Anne returned the smile. She had never thought of him as a savage, as he put it, but she knew that their interactions so far had been brief at best. Perhaps this was his way of testing her, not knowing her very well. If it was, it appeared she had passed.
"Captain, look!" a crewmate called, his finger pointing to the sea.
Anne turned in her seat and followed the crewmate's gesture to the Queen Anne's Revenge. It was no longer circling the seas around the town as they planned. It had dropped anchor. That alone would not have caused too much alarm, as they had been able to damage the ships at harbour yesterday. There was no threat of Silver Eyes escaping now. What did cause alarm was the longboats of the ship carrying the crew to shore.
A tingle up Anne's spine forced her up from her chair. A dozen thoughts flashed through her mind as to what would cause the crew to leave the ship behind, but she was powerless to know now.
Her instinct guided her where knowledge could not. "Something's not right," she muttered. "Prepare for battle!"
Confused at first, the men drew their weapons and those not manning the cannons grouped up with Anne. Anne drew her own cutlass and headed towards shore.
William ordered the men to form up, making a line two strong. The high from yesterday's victory turned into a sour note as the crew realized what may be happening.
Anne pulled out her spyglass and watched as the longboats hit the shore, and the crew aboard them jumped off in a sprint towards the field in front of the town. Christina and Jack were there, both had weapons drawn, lips curled back in a snarl like some animal ready to kill. Tala, a real animal, was keeping pace with Christina.
It was their eyes that gave Anne another shiver. Their eyes were hollow. They had been put under a trance by their enemy sometime in the night.
"They're under a trance," Anne shouted to the crew around her. She stepped forward and turned around to face them, so all eyes were on her. "But we can break it. We know it works. Try your best not to harm them, but don't let yourself be killed either." The crew objected, confusion and denial overtaking reason. Anne held up her hand. "This is no time for debate. Prepare yourselves." She went back to her place in the line before she had to field any other objections. "Bring some of the men off the cannons, we'll need all the hands we can get," she said to William. William nodded and left to issue orders to the crew manning the cannons.
Anne turned around as she took a few deep breaths and faced down her crewmates on the way to kill them. The entranced crew's rapid pace set a cloud of dust behind them.
William and some of the other crew returned to join the battle. "Spread out! Start moving," Anne shouted. "Split them up so you don't get overwhelmed."
Anne moved forward to meet Christina, and the other crewmates did as she commanded. As the targets spread out, the entranced crewmates followed suit, slowing their pace to attack.
"Tala," Anne heard Christina say as she came closer, "tuer!"
The wolf quickened her pace and lunged at Anne. Anne didn't want to harm the beast and rolled out of the way. She put herself at an angle away from Christina and Tala so she could face both, though not flawlessly.
Anne could hear the battle all around her, chaotic and discordant. Blades and bodies clashed as dust from upturned earth filled the still air around them. She could see William trying to get close enough to Jack, but he and another crewmate were on the attack and keeping him at bay. Pukuh was similarly having a challenging time, not only dealing with having only one hand and not being able to break the trance but also having to hold back so as not to harm his fellow crewmates. Nassir had joined in the battle, but he was inexperienced and kept his distance to distract rather than attack.
Christina lunged at Anne, slamming down with her right-hand dagger. Anne blocked with her forearm. The force rippled through her bones. Christina was using all her strength, her mental limits gone with the veil to the subconscious pulled open. If Anne wasn't careful, Christina could break Anne's arm or her own.
Anne yanked her hand over and clutched Christina's right forearm tight. Christina swung low with her other dagger. Anne dropped her cutlass and caught her opponent's wrist. Just as Anne was about to twist and disarm her friend, Tala charged at Anne's side. Anne bent her and Christina's bodies, blocking and pushing Tala back.
Between stopping Christina from attacking and keeping Tala at bay, Anne couldn't end the trance. They were locked in a dance, and none of the crew were nearby to help her.
"Tala, arrêter!" Anne's command didn't work. The wolf only obeyed Christina and Edward.
Christina looked crazed and feral, nothing like the sweet girl with the mild temper she knew. Her eyes, though looking straight at Anne, didn't carry the same recognition of a sane person. Silver Eyes had somehow put his talons in her and made her think her friends were her enemies, but Anne knew they could break the trance. There simply hadn't been time to turn them into the state the islanders were in. Alexandre had said it would have taken months to get them to that state. If only Anne could find an opening to break the spell…
Movement at the town's wall drew her eye. The gate had opened, and more of Silver Eyes' men were exiting and heading towards the battle.
Dad dammit! We don't have the manpower for this right now. Anne dodged another strike from Tala and kept her hold on Christina by a hair. "William!" she called.
William, just managing to sort out Jack, turned to her call and started running.
"No!" she yelled. "The cannons, the cannons!"
William looked over at the cannons and then noticed the men approaching by foot. He began shouting orders and pointing towards the cannons as he moved that way. Several of the crew and even some newly conscious crewmates joined in to gather muskets and man the cannons.
"Christina!" Anne shouted. It was taking all her strength to hold on to the young woman. "It's me. It's Anne. I know you're in there. Wake up!"
Christina's eyes changed, coming into focus. She stopped moving, stopped resisting. She appeared confused but still distant, as though she were half-asleep.
<
br /> Pain seared Anne's right leg, and a force pushed her to the side and away from Christina. Anne fell to the ground and lashed out towards her lower leg. Tala, at the moment Anne had let her guard down, had bitten down on her calf and shin. She'd ripped through her clothes, through the muscle on her calf, and to the bone on her shin. Anne punched the wolf, shouting commands and expletives at the beast in French. Tala snarled, tugging at Anne's leg and refusing to let go as it ripped her leg to shreds.
The pain overtook Anne's mind, just as the bell had when she had been right underneath it. She screamed in vain, punching and punching Tala to no avail. She needed Tala off her, or she would die, she knew it. Anne reached into her belt, pulled out her knife, and slammed the blade into Tala's skull down to the hilt, killing the wolf instantly.
Anne ripped the beast's jaws off her leg, another roaring pain surging up her right leg, through her pelvis, and up her spine. She reared back, all thoughts lost in that storm of pain.
She pulled herself back from the pieces the pain had broken her into and mustered her will. Her whole body shook with the effort to bring herself to her feet, and she nearly collapsed as soon as she stood.
Christina was looking at her and Tala's lifeless body. She was still in a daze, her mind still trapped. Some part of her seemed to know what was happening, even in that dream-like state, and tears were streaking her face as she gazed at Tala and Anne.
Anne, her right leg useless, limped her way to Christina. She leaned on the younger woman for support, then clapped right in front of her eyes.
The spell released, and Christina took a sharp breath as though waking from a nightmare. "Wha… what happe…" She looked around at the scene of the battle, over to Tala's dead body, and then burst into fresh tears. She covered her mouth and pulled back from Anne, but Anne needed to hold onto the young woman for support.
"Christina, listen to me," Anne said weakly, trying to keep a hold of her consciousness.
Christina's eyes were moving quickly over everything, shock taking over her senses. She was breathing too rapidly and becoming hysterical. She looked down and saw Anne's injury and began to cry harder. "Your leg, oh Anne!"
"Christina, Christina!" Anne called. "Look at me." She grabbed the woman's face and gently took her attention back. Christina's eyes still didn't focus on Anne. "Look into my eyes," she said. The words triggered something in Christina, and Anne finally had her attention. "This wasn't your fault. You did nothing wrong."
The young girl was a mess. She wept, with no way to stop the tears. Anne pulled her tight and held her as she cried. The battle raged on around them as Christina's tears and Anne's blood fell to the ground.
…
Cannons, muskets, swords, smoke, shouting, sweat, pain, blood. William's mind filtered through all the noise to focus on only the most essential things needed in the time of battle. He had been trained to do so, and he was adept at it.
He had not been trained to fight an enemy incapable of feeling pain. He had not been trained to fight his comrades. He had not been trained to hold back in battle.
And he had not been trained to suppress his emotions. That came from years of practice. And in that, he was struggling.
Anne had ordered him to act, and he acted. They were winning the battle, but only by the thinnest of margins. Their only saving grace was their surgeon's technique. On all other fronts—the number of men, morale, and even training, save for a few exceptions—they were on the losing side.
The cannons and muskets kept their enemies at bay while they fixed more members of their crew who had fallen under the devil's spell, and with each person who was saved, it added to their numbers.
"Draw swords!" Some heard his command and drew their swords and cutlasses with him. "Charge!" William led the men into the fray just before the enemy would be too close.
William had been called The Arching Light, a name given to him by others in the royal guard for his speed and the way light shone off his blade with his perfect form. Here on the battlefield, as a pirate, he knew his sword did not shine, and he was no source of light. Outside of training, in a real battle, his sword turned red.
William needed to end this quickly and ensure Anne's safety. He slashed, stabbed, kicked, punched, and elbowed one man after the other. His dance of death was muted. There was no beauty in it, only the purest form of battle. Parry, thrust, parry, sidestep, thrust. There was no chaos, no wasted movement, and no thought. Memory carried his blade and his body as one to where it needed to be, memory from his unknowing mind built over years of experience and training.
When it was over, he had killed eight, sending their souls to whatever afterlife their actions warranted.
William assessed the situation, taking stock of their numbers. The enemy had sent a similar number to what they had the other day, but with Anne's quick reaction, they had managed to fend them off. There were still some left, but the crew could handle the rest.
William turned his attention back to Anne and Christina, and as he approached, he saw the two in an embrace. Relief washed over him, but he didn't slow his pace.
Though they had lost many men so far and had many more injured, the other crewmates were turning those put into a trance back to normal. Soon, the battle would be over.
As he drew near he noticed Tala, dead and off to the side of the two women. Her muzzle was bloodied, a sure sign she had inflicted grievous wounds on someone. He looked Anne over for injuries and quickly noticed her right leg bleeding profusely. He quickened his pace, and his heartbeat soon matched.
Christina noticed him coming, and she pulled away from Anne's embrace. "Anne's injured. It's my fault. I'm sorry, I—"
William held up a hand. "Bring Alexandre to the ship, most of his supplies are there."
Anne's face had blanched from blood loss. "I am well," she protested. "I simply need some assistance walking at present." William scooped her up, lifting her off her feet. "This wasn't what I had in mind."
Christina wiped tears from her face, took a breath, and nodded at William before running off to find Alexandre.
William took Anne to the shore where the longboats had landed. He gingerly placed Anne inside the boat, taking care not to bump her leg. Despite his diligence, he noticed her wincing and stifling a cry of pain. William thought the only thing keeping her awake was the pain.
After Anne was secure, William rowed the longboat back to the Queen Anne's Revenge. The two of them were silent for the ride, neither broaching the nature of the horrific injury she had received, nor the battle which was finishing inland. The noise of crossed blades, shouts, and pain had faded away to a whisper on the wind by the time they reached the side of the ship, replaced by the soft whistling across the weather deck, and the lapping of waves against the side.
William secured the boat to the side of the ship and then picked Anne up again. "Apologies, Captain," he said as he hoisted her over his shoulder.
Even at this, she didn't say a word, which told him that she knew the severity of her own injury. This made his heart race even faster.
William climbed up the side of the ship, his muscles burning with the effort. After a careful few minutes, he had her aboard, but he dared not put her down now. He took her below deck and into the surgeon's room and placed her on the long table in the centre. He helped her lie down and went to work before Alexandre arrived.
William was no surgeon, but he knew a concoction that would be useful for pain mitigation. He grabbed a bottle from the storage cabinets, one of the only bottles in the bunch clearly labelled, which William thought dangerous, and gave the liquid a sniff to be sure.
William handed the bottle to Anne. "You must drink this, Captain."
Anne cocked her brow. "What is it?" she asked, but she began drinking before he answered.
"Gin," he replied as she took a large drink and reeled back at the sharp taste.
He thought of cleaning the wound with the gin and dressing it, but he knew how particular Alexandre wa
s. He didn't want to risk his ire, nor the possibility of making the situation worse. Instead, he wrapped a cloth just beneath her knee and tied it tight to stanch the blood loss, sat down in a nearby chair, and then they waited.
After a moment of silence, Anne spoke. "William?"
"Yes, Captain?"
"What kind of a man was my uncle-in-law?"
Anne spoke of William III, the king before her mother took the throne. The question caught him off guard, as they had not talked much of their lives before joining Edward's band of pirates.
William looked away from Anne as he reminisced. "I loved him," he said. "He was more than a king to me. He was like a father."
"He must have been a great man to have such high praise from you."
William still didn't know how to respond. He settled on a nod and "He was." It felt… insufficient.
There was another pause, then after another drink of gin, Anne said, "Why didn't you save him in the Triangle?"
It took a moment for William to understand just what she was referring to. William had been a kingsguard and had been framed for his king's murder, so he'd fled. Years ago, the Queen Anne's Revenge had entered the Devil's Triangle, where the crew had experienced strange events. William, along with Sam Bellamy and a woman they'd thought was their enemy at the time, were seemingly transported to the time just prior to the king's murder. It was thought to be a dream, but dream or real, William had chosen not to change what happened and let his king die again.
"How…?"
"Sam told me. He told me that you didn't want to risk changing history but never told me why. He said to ask you, but I never did because I thought it was too personal."
William rose from his seat to look into Anne's eyes. Her pallor hadn't improved much, but the gin seemed to be helping.
"I didn't stop his murder because of you," William said.
Anne arched her brows, a question unuttered but implied.
"I've never seen you happier than aboard this ship. Yes, there have been some hardships"—he cast a glance at her leg—"but you have made friends here, shared laughter here, and you were even married here on this ship."
Blackbeard's Family Page 19