The man in red was a man of plain appearance in every other department. Average-sized nose, white teeth, brown eyes and hair, and medium build with a height just shy of six feet, and middle age made him indistinct. Edward reckoned Blunes craved attention, judging by his demeanour and flashy outfit.
"Oh, I am some dreaded man named Blackbeard, am I?" Edward feigned.
"Ye can play the fool all ya like, but the build fits. Not many so tall as you 'round these parts. And word has it Gammond prison suffered a riot the day 'afore, near the 'ole lot of prisoners escaped. Your name was all over the papers when you was jailed a year ago. Not much a stretch, truly." Edward tensed. "Don' worry, mate, I care not about you, until a bounty be on yer 'ead, that is." Blunes moved closer and pointed to Jack. "This man owes me a gambling debt, and I will be repaid before I allow him to leave Winchester."
Edward sighed. Oh course he does. Why would he indulge in only one vice? "How much?" Edward questioned, reaching for his coin purse.
"Sorry, mate, but I've arrived at an idea what will pay me back tenfold."
"What do you propose?"
"A fight. You 'gainst the reigning champ of underground fightin' in Winchester. Yer name is huge, 'specially with news of the escape. People will place bets on the man who kidnapped the princess, then you throw the match."
"In case you didn't notice, I'm injured. There won't be much of a fight."
"I'm sure you'll provide a good show until you lose, and besides, I only need yer name."
"So I lose this match and Jack's debt is paid?"
"I'm a man of me word. Ye do this and he's free to go with ye." Blunes extended his hand.
Edward took Blunes' hand and shook it, sealing the deal without hesitation.
Blunes went to the nearby table, removed some paper from his pocket, used a quill to write an address down, then handed the paper to Edward. "Two weeks, The Den, eight o'clock sharp. And be sure to bulk up to at least make the fight look good, ya?"
"Right." This shouldn't be too hard.
6. The Devil of the Den
During the two weeks, Edward began training with Sam and Henry, and was provided a diet regimen by Nathan which would help with stamina and muscle building. From Edward's lack of food in prison, he'd lost most of the fat on his body, so gaining back muscle was easy.
Edward simply returned to the basics so he could hold his own and make it appear as if he wasn't throwing the match. Early morning runs around Winchester, sparring with Sam, more running, sparring with Henry, and running again was the typical day for Edward over the two weeks.
Jack had a severely more difficult time. In the beginning, the detoxification was minor: Anxiety, yawning, but with difficulty to sleep, and sweating. But not long after, body aches, nausea, tremors, and even hallucinations set in. To Jack and his friends, combining those was like some sort of punishment from God himself. Edward and company tried their best to make Jack comfortable.
"Edward, please, this is cruel. You must allow me a little bit to take away the pain," Jack pleaded after a few days, tears in his bloodshot eyes.
"I am sorry Jack, you know I cannot. The most important thing I learned from being saved from prison is to wait and hope. If you hold out a little longer this pain will be gone and you will be back to your old self."
Jack could say nothing after seeing his captain's eyes. Jack closed his eyes to the pain and waited for it to subside. Throughout the detoxification, Jack never again asked for his precious alcohol.
At the end of the two weeks, Jack was through the worst and was cleared for release from the shackles. Nathan recommended constant supervision for the next while, and even afterwards not to let Jack alone when on shore.
Edward noticeably changed over the two weeks' training. Although he was not quite back to his old self, and his broken arm was still, well, broken, he was considerably more fearsome and would no doubt produce the effect Blunes desired at his 'Den.'
"Jack, you and Sam prepare some horses so we are ready to leave. Henry and I have some business to take care of and then we'll head to Portsmouth." Edward handed the coin purse to Sam and then left to the Den.
"You can count on us, Captain," Jack reassured Edward as he left.
Sam tossed the coin purse in the air. "So… want ta toss a few back with me, mate?"
Nathan and Jack both smacked Sam in the back of the head as he laughed at his own cruel joke.
Edward and Henry ran to the location Blunes wrote down on the sheet of paper, causing those in the streets to stare. After reaching the street, Edward and Henry travelled past a few worn houses until reaching a warehouse district. Edward continued walking until he found one with the number thirteen painted over two large wooden doors, matching what was written in the sheet. The warehouse resembled an old weapons manufacturing plant.
Edward and Henry walked up to two guards at the front of the warehouse. "Password?" one of the guards asked.
Edward took out the paper from Blunes, but there was nothing indicating a password for entrance.
"We were invited by Thomas Blunes, but he didn't provide a password."
The guards laughed. "Then it's simple: you're lying. The boss would have given you a password if he wanted you here."
"No, he certainly wanted me here. I am Blackbeard."
The guards were serious for a moment, then burst into laughter once more. "You? Blackbeard? What a joke."
"I'm telling you, I am Blackbeard and there is no password."
The guards stopped laughing abruptly. "What did you say?" one of them asked.
"I said, I am Blackbeard."
"After that."
"There is no password?"
"Tch." One of the guards opened the door. "Welcome to the Den, Blackbeard."
Edward shook his head as he went through the door. As he was passing he could hear the guards talk amongst themselves. "The boss really needs to make a new password." "I keep asking him what he wants the password to be, but he always says the same thing." Edward rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration, and travelled further into the Den.
Edward entered and immediately noticed a table to his right with a young scantily clad woman sitting behind it and a guard standing behind her.
"What can I do for you gentlemen?" the young lady at the counter asked in a sickeningly sweet high pitch.
"I'm Edward Thatch, Blackbeard. I'm here for a fight."
"Changing rooms are behind me. Mr Blunes will call you when we're ready for you."
Edward thanked the woman and walked around the counter to a hallway. There was a door on each side of the hallway, so Edward opened the left door and headed in.
Inside, a man of Henry's build, six feet tall, wide, and muscular was sitting on a bench. He appeared to be Russian, from his prominent chin and eyebrows. When Edward entered, the man stood, his expression pure fury.
Another gentleman with a cotton towel around his neck looked Edward's way. "Blackbeard, I presume?" Edward nodded. "Your room is next door."
"Yes, thank you." Edward closed the door, the large man glaring at him the whole time.
"I'm guessing he's the person you are to fight," Henry surmised.
"Yes, I would say," Edward agreed as he went to the next room. "I would also say this fight will hurt."
"Yes, well, you're the one who decided to do something foolish again."
"Breaking into a prison is far more foolish than this."
Henry grinned and shrugged his shoulders.
The room they entered was plain in appearance with a low bench in the middle and a table with a rolled cotton strip for wrapping wounds, a wick for lighting, and a bucket of water.
A man standing in the middle of the room turned around. "Thomas Blunes," Edward pronounced. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"
"I need ta read ye the rules, and make a wardrobe suggestion."
Henry cocked an eyebrow. "Wardrobe suggestion?"
"More on that later. First: the rules. There are no rules.
See? Easy. Fight with anythin' you can, make a good show, and throw the fight."
"And the 'wardrobe'?" Edward asked, wary of what was forthcoming.
"I have something flashy and fear-inspiring to make you stand out and make my regulars want to bet on you." After Blunes helped Edward with his image, he took Edward to the entrance hallway.
Edward wore a cloak and baggy breeches reaching to below the knees and thin shoes meant for manoeuvrability. His chest was exposed, which had filled out some since two weeks prior, showing his muscular abdomen.
"This won't work. I'll appear a fool."
"Nonsense. Remember, no smiling, jus' stare straight at the crowd," Blunes advised.
Blunes took a light to long strands of wick set in Edward's beard. The wick burned slowly and was meant for smoke, which surrounded Edward's face and lent him a ghastly visage.
After Blunes was satisfied, he pushed Edward forward and into the warehouse. On all sides a large crowd occupied the warehouse. Men and women of all stations stood arm to arm, shouting and jeering at the lack of a fight. Past them a large iron-barred cage stood in the middle of the warehouse, with guards holding the people at bay to allow the fighters passage to the cage.
Edward strolled forward, staring at the audience, the smoke wisping and billowing around his face. As Edward's eyes met the men and women, the silence his stare elicited spread like a wave around the crowd, starting at the entrance and making its way around. In the silence, Edward's gaze instilled fear. Some of the women wept, others fainted, and the men turned away, wiping sweat from their brows.
Blunes was beginning to sweat as well. "Tone it down, kid, you'll make them want to bet on the other fighter. Forget it, I can turn this around."
When Blunes and Edward reached the cage where Henry waited, the two stepped up to a stage, staring at the crowd below. "Ladies and gentlemen, tonight we are visited by a devil. He intends to show us the meaning of reaping what thy sows." Blunes lifted Edward's arm in the air. "The Devil Blackbeard arrived to take the soul of Hammons this night!" he yelled to the awed crowd. "As the dark messenger himself, Blackbeard knows the wages Hammons' sins must pay, and he will collect!"
Blunes continued to rile up the crowd as Henry, wearing Edward's coat and tricorn hat, examined and ensured the cotton bandage was tight around Edward's knuckles.
"I assumed you would be against this, Henry, but you never objected to the fight these whole two weeks past."
"Well, this seemed the only way to help Jack," replied Henry. "We certainly couldn't muscle our way out with the four of us. Besides, what's the harm in you being beaten to a pulp? You'll pay Jack's debt and learn your lesson in doing foolish things at the same time."
"I see no love was lost over our year apart."
Henry smirked and then took the wick out of Edward's beard as his opponent entered. He was met with jeers and shouts of damnation from the crowd.
"Looks as if Blunes' plan worked," Henry said, glancing at the muscular man and the crowd.
Blunes introduced the other fighter as Hammons the Hammer and brought him into the iron cage. Edward entered the cage, and the opening was locked behind him. Edward and Hammons were locked together in a prison for two.
Edward took in deep breaths. The smells of sweat, cheap ale, and blood crept into his nose along with the metal of the warehouse. Edward filtered away those senses, and focused on the man across from him.
Give them a good show.
A sharp ding of a bell indicated the start of the fight and Edward advanced towards Hammons.
Hammons took the initiative and rushed at Edward, fists flying. Edward pulled back and pushed the fists aside with his left hand, the good one. Hammons kept pushing Edward into his own pace from the start. Edward was backed into the wall of the cage. Hammons kept up the pressure and delivered blow after blow to Edward's head and chest.
Edward was having issues because of his injury. He had to block and jab with his left hand at the same time. Damn this useless arm of mine!
"Get off the wall!" Henry yelled, as riled up as the crowd.
Easier said than done. Edward kept bobbing and weaving, weaving and bobbing, blocking and jabbing, but he couldn't see a moment to escape the onslaught. Hammons reared back and delivered a right hook. Edward could easily see the fist approaching his temple. He pulled back, letting the wild swing follow through, then countered with a left cross.
The left cross, named for the fist crossing over the opponent's arm, was powerful because the opponent's momentum was used against him.
Edward's cross punch was brutal, and caused Hammons to trip and fall backwards. Edward jumped off the wall to the middle of the ring. The crowd turned wild.
Hammons quickly rose to his feet and continued his assault. Edward pushed back this time; he delivered jabs in quick succession to keep Hammons at bay. Hammons threw punches at Edward, but missed due to his poor reach.
By the time the bell rang once more, allowing the fighters a break, Hammons' lip was bloody and his eye was starting to swell.
Edward sat on a stool in the corner provided by Henry and drank some water. Henry wiped Edward's brow with a towel.
"Blunes wants another similar round and then you can start losing."
"Right," Edward acknowledged between deep breaths.
The bell was rung again and the second round began. The second round went much like the first, with Edward dominating the fight with quick jabs and a few well-timed crosses. Edward did end up taking a few hits; his ribs were hurting and his eye was feeling puffy.
That should be enough. Edward eyed Blunes as Henry cleaned him up and gave him water again. Blunes nodded.
"Don't lose too quickly, and protect the arm."
"Right." I'll defend until the middle of the round, and then let Hammons punch me a few times.
After the bell, Edward strode to the centre with confidence. Hammons ran up to Edward and delivered a right hook followed by a left hook to the body. The combination came so quickly Edward's instinct took over and he pulled up his arms to guard. The left hook hit his broken arm hard, and the jolting pain reminded Edward forcibly of Hammons' nickname: The Hammer.
Edward suppressed a scream. Whatever had been healed over the past two weeks was instantly wrought asunder from Hammons' punch. Edward's vision began fading from the pain, but he forced his eyes to stay open. He blocked an incoming punch from Hammons and fought back wildly.
Hammons stepped back and sneered at Edward's pathetic attempts. Hammons had known from the beginning Edward was injured, from Edward's plain-to-see bruise on his right arm to his affinity for blocking with his left arm.
Hammons took his time, working Edward over with lighter punches, whittling him down little by little. A jab here, an uppercut there, every hit meant to bring out Edward's weak and exhausted body.
The next round was like a blur. Edward was in too much pain to be able to fight back. He threw a left hook to Hammons' head, but he moved out of the way and punched Edward in the jaw, sending him to the back of the iron cage.
The sound of the crowd was deafening in Edward's ears, but loudest of all was a ringing noise which wouldn't quit. Sweat poured down his face, along with blood from a cut over his eye and a broken nose. Edward scanned the high walkway around the inside perimeter of the warehouse and saw Thomas Blunes, smiling.
Damn it, Jack. How did you rope me into this? Edward glanced at Henry. I guess you were right Henry, I learned my lesson. Edward's slow moving gaze turned to Hammons, who was stalking towards him, his massive arms ready to strike. But I would do it again! Come on then! Edward gritted his teeth and pulled up his heavy left arm in defiance of his weariness.
The two fighters were about to start again when screams rose from the entrance. The crowd was fleeing from something. Edward peered to the source of the noise and saw something worse than the beating he was receiving.
Twenty militiamen entered the warehouse on a raid and began arresting people in the crowd, with some of t
hem heading towards the ring for the ultimate quarry.
Henry ran into the ring and pulled Edward out, helping him to stay up. As the two left the ring, crazed people running in front of them, they were met by an armed official.
Henry kicked him in the chest and the man fell over in a heap. Henry grabbed the official's gun.
Men and women crowded each visible exit. Edward noticed movement above on the walkway. Thomas Blunes was opening a window and jumping through, cursing as he did so.
"Look," Edward pointed.
Henry looked at where Edward was pointing, then glanced around. "Do you see any stairs to get up there?"
Edward tried to find stairs to the walkway, but he couldn't see any. Edward searched for another escape route and noticed a ladder near an exit at the back.
"There."
Henry followed Edward's outstretched hand, then rushed to the ladder, pulling Edward along in a near drag. They weaved through the crowd of people trying to run away from the militia, pushing and shoving those smaller than him out of the way.
When Edward and Henry reached the ladder, Henry pushed Edward up the steps. Edward's grip was feeble and the exhaustion of the match was settling in. He'd lost his boost of resolve from the last round and was running on empty. Edward climbed one rung at a time, trying to speed himself, but his shaking arms and legs made things difficult.
"Hurry Edward! They're gaining on us!" Henry yelled, pushing his friend further up. Henry let out an exasperated grunt and pushed Edward up using his shoulder. With the added help the two were able to reach the top of the ladder in less than a minute.
From the high vantage point, Edward and Henry could see the whole scene: The large iron ring in the centre with the crowd rushing to the closest exit, and some fighting against the local authorities. The militia barred the main entrance, and more slipped through the back, trying to block off all exits. Soon the whole warehouse would be blocked and the spectators suppressed at gunpoint.
Blackbeard's Revenge (Voyages Of Queen Anne's Revenge Book 2) Page 7