The Traitorous Six were to attend a small dinner at the home of Mr. Darcy in recognition of their agreement. They organized themselves and wandered warily into town, prepared to exchange the master log for a chest of gold doubloons.
As they walked by the Marketplace in the center of town, Robert Hall remembered, “We need a bottle of rum for Mr. Darcy.”
“Forget the rum,” snapped William. “We have what he really wants. Let us finish this and be off this island before we’re caught.”
The rest of the men agreed. Mr. Hall went along for only a moment before turning back. “We don’t know what sort of bloke we are dealing with and if a little rum will soften him up, well then all the better. Don’t worry, go on. I’ll get the rum and be to Darcy’s before you can even begin negotiations.”
Mr. Hall was well-groomed and well-spoken with an appealing voice. He bore a light scar just above his right cheek, dramatically emphasized in harsher sunlight.
When he stepped into the marketplace, his ever-foolish eye fell upon Isabel, who was innocently meandering about in search of a few specific goods. He quickly picked up on her frustration and decided to use it to his benefit. Standing about a half-foot taller, he walked with upright confidence, under the guise of a more virtuous nature and calmly approached Isabel.
“My Lady, I could not help but notice, you appear to be in a bit of a quandary. Forgive me if I am a little shy in the presence of a woman so striking. But, may I be so bold as to offer my assistance?”
“I am in need of no assistance, Sir,” Isabel quipped, though, vaguely flirtatious. “You’re new to these parts, are you not?”
“I am unfamiliar with this island, ‘tis true, but not these waters. Allow me to introduce myself; I am Sir Robert S. Hall, second mate aboard her majesty’s vessel and former flagship, the Sentry.”
“Oh indeed. Knighted are you? I was unaware that a second mate in the Royal Navy might carry such a title. Besides, her majesty is not but a name on this island. ‘Tis neither owned, nor governed by King or Queen.” Isabel smiled, as though to egg him on, teasing playfully. “Tell me, Sir Knight,” she continued sarcastically, “do you truly imagine the title of second mate or knight holds any better a standing upon this soil than does a nameless Queen?”
“Well, ‘Sir’ is actually more of an honorary title.” Stumbling over his obvious lies, he stretched them as far as he could, claiming, “I saved the captain’s life in battle. It is not the sort of thing one’s captain would care to share.”
“Oh, that is impressive, indeed.”
“So, now that we have been properly acquainted, might I be of service?”
Smiling with advantageous innocence, Isabel accepted the offer with obvious implications. “Would you be so kind as to fetch that sack of sugar on the upper shelf for me?” Isabel pointed to a specific bag, knowing there were plenty at her reach, as did he.
“I’d be happy to oblige, on one simple condition - your name?”
After a few lengthy seconds in silent thought, she disclosed, “Miss Isabel Shaw. Now if you please, Sir, the sugar?”
“There are plenty of other sacks of sugar on lower shelves. Might I fetch one of them instead?”
“No! You asked to be of service and that is the one I require.”
As Mr. Hall reached up his body came closer to Isabel, who was standing underneath his reach. Pressing slightly against her, he moved a few small steps back when handing her the bag.
“Thank you, Mr. Hall.”
“Please, call me Robert.”
“Well, if it pleases you, Robert.”
“Oh, it pleases me a plenty,” he replied with evident lust dripping from the sound of his voice, revealing a touch of his true disposition.
They conversed a while longer before Mr. Hall was comfortable enough to place his hand upon Isabel’s exposed shoulder, tempting her approval.
Those within the marketplace, closest in proximity to Mr. Hall and Isabel, knew of Black-Hearted’s ready temper and quickly separated themselves from the area.
As Isabel’s breath grew noticeably heavier, Mr. Hall drew nearer. Taking advantage of her palpable excitement, Mr. Hall leaned inward. But Isabel dodged his lurid attempt, ducking under his arm and just passed him.
Unfortunately, Black-Hearted had concluded his business with Mr. Darcy and was foot-bound for the local tavern. Passing the marketplace on his way, he happened to catch sight of Mr. Hall and Isabel through the open walkway.
Black-Hearted took hold of someone exiting the marketplace. “Who be that there bloke speaking with my Isabel?”
“I overheard him say he was an officer in the Royal Navy,” replied the gentleman, scared for his life, “second mate if I understood it correctly.”
The heart-wrenching memory of Lorien and Richard quickly flashed through his mind. He couldn’t let it happen again. His temper flared in a tower of rage and he threw the local gent aside. Immediately he entered the marketplace.
Unsheathing his razor sharp machete, Black-Hearted exclaimed, “Take your hands off the lady at once, you filthy English dog!” Black-Hearted defiantly raised his weapon.
Mr. Hall’s heart pounded vigorously. “Please, don’t. I beg you!” He then sank, protectively covering his head with his arms.
Before Black-Hearted could follow through, he felt Isabel’s gentle touch upon his forearm, prompting him to withhold his blow.
“Please, don’t do this,” pleaded Isabel in a soft and soothing tone.
Mr. Hall tripped over his own feet in an attempt to get away. He was beyond out of sight before Isabel and Black-Hearted even knew it.
Isabel attempted to explain. “Hearted, he was only trying to help…”
“Aye,” blurted Black-Hearted, cutting her off. “I saw him helping himself to whatever you might be offering!”
Isabel took Black-Hearted aside, smiled and kissed his cheek. “Oh Davy, you know I would never do anything to hurt you.”
“That no-good worthless English dog, I’ll send him straight to Davy’s Locker, I will! Aye, he’ll come to taste the point of my blade the next time I see him. I swear it!”
“Davy, if you keep going down this road you won’t be around long enough to see us through. When will it end?”
“Izzi, don’t do this. I have to end what they started,” resolved Black-Hearted. “I will have my bloomin’ revenge!”
Now in tears Isabel continued, “I’ll not stand by and watch you hang. This needs to come to an end. Promise me when it is all over, you’ll be done with it once and for all.”
Black-Hearted could not withhold and did finally promise to end his life of piracy after avenging his family. No other woman had such an effect upon Black-Hearted since Emily at the orphanage, not even Lorien, his young love from so long ago.
Isabel had known Black-Hearted for years and although their communication and contact was limited by his lifestyle as a pirate captain, her feelings for him seemed to be growing fonder in their long anticipated relationship. Indulging in the only kindness he knew, Black-Hearted had always treated Isabel with respect and warmth. Isabel, in turn, wished to know everything about Black-Hearted that she could. Constantly in pursuit of more information about his vague life’s past, she wished to know more; where he came from and the details that no one else seemed to be aware of. Capping her curiosity, Black-Hearted kept his dark and troubled past to himself.
Black-Heart did manage to keep their relationship and his feelings for her hidden for the past several weeks. No other person outside Port of Errors, with the exception of his closest shipmates and Scurvy, knew of Black-Hearted’s feelings for Isabel. Though, rumor had begun to unravel and take shape.
As the Traitorous Six arrived at Mr. Darcy’s front door, Mr. Hall came stumbling up. Tired and out of breath he approached the door without so much as a flask of strong drink.
“What happened to you?” asked Scott.
“I’ll explain later,” replied Mr. Hall in an anxious hurry. “Let’s j
ust get on with it.”
William knocked on Mr. Darcy’s fancy new door with an oversized knocker hanging from the center. Mr. Darcy welcomed them in and offered a pleasant meal which was laid out to perfection on his long and elegant dining table, complete with sweet ale for the drink.
Several guards, located at each end of the room were armed standing at the ready in silence.
As Darcy and his guests feasted, William held out a document rolled up into a formal scroll. “This here indicates the exact location of every English vessel, approximate arrival and departure and even an inventory of likely cargo.”
“That sounds splendid,” replied Mr. Darcy as he reached out to take hold of it.
William quickly pulled the rolled up document back with a flick of his wrist. “However,” he mandated, “we do have one condition on which this transaction shall proceed.”
As several guards moved in, Mr. Darcy waved them off. “Oh, and what might that be? And, mind you, I give fair warning not to press your luck.”
“Neither the Crimson Reef nor the Sentry are to be skirmished with, we lads serve on these two vessels and wish not to be caught in the center of it.”
“You have my word, good sirs,” agreed Mr. Darcy. Of course he knew full well that whomever he sold this information to would not consent to such an irrational stipulation.
Raising his arm, Mr. Darcy snapped his stubby little fingers, prompting a servant to enter the room carrying a small but hefty chest, simplistic in its look. Setting it on the table in front of William the servant unlocked the chest, leaving the key in the keyhole. William then nodded to Scott, who promptly stood and opened the chest to reveal the many silver pieces, gold doubloons and other valuable coins.
“It’s been a pleasure, Mr. Darcy,” stated William as he handed the document to him.
“Yes, such business is always a pleasure,” muttered Darcy. “Now leave this island and never return. No one must know of our dealings. My men will see you out.” Four guards followed behind to escort the Traitorous Six to the edge of his property, where they were quickly abandoned.
Making their way back to the sloop in the dark, they nervously quickened their pace, anticipating the time it might take to get back to Port Lorne without being missed. As they approached the beach, they were relieved to see their ship docked close by. But waiting in the shadows of the outlying brush and trees was Black-Hearted, who unexpectedly stepped out with near a dozen men, including Stephen, Eric and Gunner. They seemed to appear out of nowhere, catching the Traitorous Six completely off guard and heading them off on every side. Black-Hearted drew his infamous machete and pointed with it, saying, “We’ll take that there chest off your hands.”
“Aye,” added Stephen, “It must be quite a burden, let us lighten your load, mates.”
The Traitorous Six were allowed to peacefully leave once the gold was in Black-Hearted’s possession.
As the Traitorous Six walked bitterly and cautiously away, Black-Hearted held back Mr. Hall. “Don’t let me see your face around here again, Robert.” Black-Hearted let him free unharmed, out of respect for Isabel.
Rigid with anger, the Traitorous Six were about to board their vessel, when Mr. Hall noticed someone stumbling about the harbor. As he and the others came nearer, Royal Hawkins recognized him as Benton Wresfin. His hand was bandaged and he was very much intoxicated. His mind was in a whirl of emotions, knowing he had just facilitated one of the most notorious pirates on the seven seas with instruction. He felt a traitor, having just trained Black-Hearted’s crew on how best to appear as an English frigate.
Royal approached Mr. Wresfin with hesitance, backed by the other five. “Benton Wresfin,” he addressed. “What brings you to this sorry waste of land? Where’s the rest of your crew?”
“Oh, thank the sweet Master above. Blessed be! I’ve been stranded, looking for a way off this rock. Not a single soul dared grant me boarding off this island. Our ship was attacked by that filthy pirate.”
“Who?” asked Mr. Hall, “what pirate?”
Mr. Wresfin began to sway and quiver from intoxication and fatigue. “Black-Hearted it was. He took possession of our ship, the English Pride. He’ll be the cause of war he will, causing all sorts of atrocities in the Queen’s good name. Please, take me with you.”
“Of course,” agreed William. “Of course we’ll take you with us. But, on one condition; you must swear you won’t tell a soul that you’ve seen us here and don’t ask what our business is. We’ll take you back to Port Lorne, but if you mention seeing even one of us, I’ll slit your throat before you can say more. Do you understand?”
“I don’t care at all about your business. Get me off this island and you won’t even exist in my mind. My lips are sealed.”
Mr. Wresfin became lightheaded and slipped to the floor, unconscious.
Allowing Mr. Wresfin to lie on the ground, William insisted, “He knows too much and I don’t know if we can trust him. He’s the only person that can place us on Port of Errors at this time.”
“What are you suggesting? He’s an officer,” insisted Royal. “We are not going to kill this poor soul in his sleep.”
“Would you rather die?” asked William. “Because that’s what awaits each of us. We’re traitors and we’ll be hanged when Wresfin mentions that we were on Port of Errors tonight. What does he matter to us anyways? He’s not from the Crimson Reef. His ship went down weeks ago, he should have died then. Besides, if you can’t remember, we just gave Darcy information that will lead to the death of many an officer, so what’s the difference if we kill this officer ourselves?”
“Benton Wresfin has been a good friend to me,” replied Royal. “I’ll not stand and watch you do this. He’s a good man.”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” interjected Mr. Hall. “Let’s think about this. I’m willing to bet there will be a handsome reward for the information we just acquired from Wresfin about Black-Hearted.
“And how do you suggest we use this information without proving our own guilt?” asked William. “If we tell anyone where we found Wresfin, we’ll be linked to Darcy and hanged for sure. The only way out of this with our lives is to kill him. Can’t you see that we need him dead in order to stay alive?”
“What we need is for Wresfin to tell Captain Stirvin what Black-Hearted is up to,” explained Mr. Hall. “The brand on his hand will tell the truth of it. We’ll just have to keep him drunk enough to make sure anything he says about us being on Port of Errors is not believable. I’m even willing to bet we can convince Wresfin that he’s on Port of Errors when he’s speaking to Captain Stirvin on Port Lorne. Only this plan won’t work with a dead man.”
“So, how do you suggest we set this up?” asked William.
“We’ll take Wresfin to a tavern that Captain Stirvin is comfortable with and keep him drunk the whole time he’s there. We’ll just have to be sure and fetch Captain Stirvin before he wishes to weigh anchor. It’s perfect. Black-Hearted will pay for what he did to us and at the same time, we’ll be rewarded for bringing this to Captain Stirvin’s attention.”
Without further discussion, the Traitorous Six boarded their vessel with Mr. Wresfin, who was too drunk to care about Black-Hearted’s earlier warning. When they arrived at Port Lorne, William and Scott boarded the Sentry. Brent and Royal took Mr. Wresfin to The Boars Milk, a tavern popular with English crewmen and which Captain Stirvin had been known to frequent every now and again. They kept the rum and whisky coming and convinced him that he was still on Port of Errors.
Mr. Hall and Tweed ran off to fetch Captain Stirvin. They halted and stood at attention upon finding him in conversation with Gabriel and Edgardo. Concluding his dealings with them, Captain Stirvin turned his attention to Tweed, since he was his first mate. “What is it that is so important you feel it was worth the risk to interrupt my affairs?”
“Captain, we just came across First Mate Benton Wresfin,” began Tweed. “We feel you might want a word with him concerni
ng a recent assault on his vessel, the English Pride.”
Captain Stirvin calmly inquired, “Yes, under Captain Blair. So, why did you not bring him to me?”
“Begin’ your pardon Sir, but he was too drunk to walk. Though, he still sits at the tavern. A few of the other men are holding him there, awaiting your visit.”
“And which tavern might this be?”
“The Boars Milk, Sir, a quarter hour distance by foot at the east end of the village.”
“Tweed, you are to take command of my ship while Mr. Hall shows me to Mr. Wresfin. I’ll return within the hour.”
“Aye Captain, we’ll await your return.”
Keeping a tight ship, Captain Stirvin persisted, “See to it that any man arriving after six this evening is logged in at the time of arrival. I’ll deal with these men myself.” Then turning his attention to the situation with Mr. Wresfin, Captain Stirvin ordered Mr. Hall to lead the way.
When Captain Stirvin and Mr. Hall walked in to The Boars Milk, Mr. Wresfin was patiently waiting with Royal and Brent. Approaching the table, Captain Stirvin wasted no time. Mr. Wresfin quickly stood at attention and saluted, though his balance was thrown and he immediately fell back into his seat.
“Mr. Wresfin,” began Captain Stirvin. Upon noticing the black heart brand on the back of his hand in his sloppy backward salute, Captain Stirvin asked, “May I inquire about the mark on your hand?”
“The pirate Black-Hearted; this is his mark! Though I must admit, ‘twas a better fate than that of Captain Blair. Keelhauled he was. Dead. ”
“Black-Hearted killed Captain Blair? What of his crew?”
Just then Edgardo and Gabriel waltzed into the tavern and sat at a nearby table.
Port of Errors Page 10