The Pyrate

by Michael Aye

  “Are we in for a storm?” Cooper asked Johannes.

  Shaking his head and shouting to be heard; the quartermaster and former ship’s master said, “No. This is not unusual for these waters. I think the wind will die down to a moderate breeze by sunset.”

  Johannes’ words proved to be true and just before dusk the whistling in the overhead died down and the waves became little more than rolling white caps. They sailed north of Nova Scotia to the southeastern coast of Newfoundland. The Raven came about just off Cape Saint Francis, having found nothing entering or leaving Saint Johns. The weather continued to hold and Raven continued south.

  Cooper opened the stern windows of his cabin and enjoyed a glass of Gus’ brew. The last he’d brought aboard before they left Barataria. Mac was on deck. Quang, who acted as cabin servant, cox’n, and martial arts instructor handed a candle to Cooper so that he could light his pipe. Using his hand to shield the flame from the wind, Cooper turned the pipe sideways and puffed like he’d seen Eli Taylor do. “Keeps the wax from the tobacco and pipe,” he had explained. Nothing like dripping wax to ruin your smoke. Once the pipe was lit, Cooper reclined back in his chair.

  “We’ll soon be off Sable Island,” Quang said, breaking the silence. “It’s called the graveyard of the Atlantic.”

  This caught Cooper’s attention so he sat up. “Tell me about this.”

  Quang shrugged. “I only know what the quartermaster told a few of us. Hundreds of ships have wrecked on sandbars along the coast of the island. Johannes says it’s a long narrow island. He also said that wild horses roamed the island. Nobody knows for sure how they got there, but they probably swam ashore when some ship struck a sandbar. Johannes says there are a lot of seals there as well.”

  “Well, damme Quang, but I learn something new every day,” Cooper said.

  ***

  “Sail ho! Deck thar! Sail ho!” The men aboard Raven had all but decided the voyage north was another failure when Banty’s excited voice came down from the tops.

  “Where away,” Mac shouted.

  “Off the larboard beam.” Cooper had heard the cry as he was coming on deck.

  “Sail to leeward,” Mac volunteered as soon as he saw Cooper.

  Picking up the speaking trumpet, Cooper called up, “What do you make of her, Banty?”

  “She’s a brig,” Banty called down.

  “Think she’s British?” Cooper asked Mac and Johannes.

  “Not sure,” Mac replied. “But this far north, she’s not likely to be an American.”

  “I agree,” Johannes said, when Cooper looked his way.

  “Coop, I’d alter course six points to larboard and clamp on all sails. If she is an American, we can wave as we go by, if not, we’ve a prize,” Mac said.

  Mac should be the captain, Cooper thought. Damn little good I am when it comes to real seamanship. The helm was put over and the deck canted as the wind filled the sails. The distance between the two ships closed quickly but still it was a three hour chase.

  The Raven was less than a half mile and closing fast when Cooper called to Spurlock, “Put a shot across her bow if you will, Mr. Spurlock.”

  “Aye, Captain,” the gunner answered and made his way forward.

  Johannes was next to Cooper. “She ought to know she’ll not escape,” he said.

  BOOM…The larboard forward bow chaser fired. A water spout appeared half a cable in front of the chase.

  “That ought to get her attention,” Johnson said. He and Moree were at the wheel.

  “Bloody ’er bleeding nose, Spurlock,” added Banty, who’d been called down from his lookout.

  ***

  The captain of the brig was William Watson. He was a smallish fellow, who was neither pleasant nor offensive. He just stood at the quarterdeck with his hands behind him.

  “Your ship is a prize of the Raven,” Cooper offered. “Muster your men on deck and if there is no attempt to resist, I will leave you with your ship and your life.” Watson nodded.

  Within a few minutes, McKemie was on deck. “Ship is out of Newfoundland, Captain.” Papers say he was carrying timber to the West Indies; and his return trip shows tobacco, rum, and sugar.”

  Johannes stepped over to Cooper, “Have Robinson and Bridges search the cabin. With a load of timber like the papers say she’s setting too high in the water to have spent it all on trade goods. I’d have Banty and Johnson check the hole as well. Banty has a feel for things, he does, and Bridges and Robinson will sniff out a hidden compartment if there is one.” It seemed like forever, until Banty came on deck with a smile on his face.

  “Could you come with me, Captain?” Banty took Cooper to a hole full of fifty gallon rum barrels. “See those barrels, Captain? They all look alike, but look at these. There are four where the paint that says Saint Croix is newer, not as faded and stained.” Handing a barrel stave to Cooper, Banty said, “Bang the side of that barrel.” It had a dull thud. “Now, bang this one, Captain.” It was different, more a solid sound.

  Men were brought down and a hoist was rigged and the four barrels were brought on deck. The lids were removed and the barrels turned on their side. The clink of coin made an unmistakable sound. The captain of the ship looked most unhappy, “I’ll see you in hell,” he hissed to Cooper.

  “You’ll have to stand in line, I’m afraid,” Cooper replied.

  The coin was taken aboard Raven, and as an afterthought the ten barrels of rum. The rum would always bring a fair price. It was dusk when the Raven withdrew her grappling hooks and set sail.

  “Fifteen thousand dollars and change, I believe,” Johannes announced. It was his duty to count the coin. “Fifteen thousand and ten barrels of rum, a good voyage with little effort, I’d say. We got us another lucky cruise, Captain, I’d say.”

  Cooper grinned at the crew’s enthusiasm, good luck indeed. They’d collected several thousand dollars in plunder on Culebra, when they’d rescued Faith, Maddy, and the others. Now, they’d made another good haul. Good luck, yes, they’d had some good luck but lady luck was a fickle mistress. She’d turn on you in a moment, she would…lady luck.

  CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

  John Will entered the warehouse office. The man he had stationed atop of the warehouse had just informed him the Raven had been sighted entering the anchorage. “Jim Boy, quick, go fetch Captain Taylor like we planned. Hurry now, and don’t spare that horse. If Captain Taylor’s not back here by the time Raven’s crew marches up the hill, he’ll lay the cat to you.”

  Jim Boy had heard about the damage a cat-of-nine tails could do. He’d never had a whip touch his skin and he didn’t want to start now, especially, not with the cat. As he rushed out the door, he ran headlong into Michael Brett. “Sorry, sir, Mr. John says to fly like my feet are on fire and my ass is catching.”

  Michael Brett wanted to smile at the boy’s comment, but it dawned on him the reason for the boy’s rush. Turning to John, he said, “Raven’s been spotted.”

  John nodded, and slumped down into a chair. Finally, he said, “I’m glad that I’m not the one breaking the news.”

  “That’s two of us,” his friend and partner replied.

  ***

  “Dead…what the hell do you mean she’s dead, Eli? Oh God, Eli, don’t tell me such a thing. Oh God!!! Sophia…Sophia…God why’d you let her die? Why couldn’t it have been me?” Eli Taylor looked on as his friend and protégé sobbed and fell apart over the news of Sophia’s death.

  They were sitting in the warehouse office. Taylor had made it to the office just as Cooper walked up the hill. Taylor took Cooper into the office and as pre-planned, John Will went down to the ship to notify Mac and the crew. Mac and Johannes went ashore to be there for their captain, but no one else left the ship. How could they? Their captain came first. They’d wait to find out what was going to take place.

  Taylor poured Cooper a stiff tumbler of rum which he gulped down. Taylor watched as he cried, with his head in his hands and then he pounded t
he desk with his fists. Taylor poured one more glass of rum…enough to settle his friend, but not enough to make him drunk. Finally, after a few minutes, Cooper looked up, “How…how did my Sophia die, Eli?”

  Taylor swallowed hard and drank the rum he’d poured for himself. “We came into Savannah for a play. Debbie and Sophia were going to do some shopping the next morning so we stayed at the new Washington Hall Hotel. Our room and Sophia’s room joined each other. We came back from the play and I went into our room while Debbie and Sophia chit-chatted about the next day’s shopping. Debbie came in and undressed. That’s when we heard a door slam and a scream. Debbie shouted to me, ‘That’s Sophia, Eli, hurry, get your pants on.’ We heard another scream then. I had my pants on by then and grabbed a pistol. Sophia’s door was closed so I kicked it open. I didn’t notice the man at first, as the door to the balcony was open and I could see Sophia lying there. I checked her pulse, but she was gone. When I turned around, I saw him…D’Arcy. He was just sitting there in the chair by the vanity. He held a pistol in his hand. I was afraid we might have a go at one another. I asked him why.”

  He mumbled, “I…I saw her at the play. We were in town and who did I see…Sophia. I had to talk to her, to see her. I followed her here and watched.” He paused for a while. People were now gathering outside the door.

  “I saw Debbie and I shook my head, letting her know Sophia was gone. I told her to send for the law. D’Arcy poured himself a drink of water from the stand and started talking again.”

  He continued his story, “I knocked and Sophia answered the door. When she saw me, she slammed it shut but I kicked it open. ‘Go away, go away,’ she screamed. I have to see you, D’Arcy cried, I love you. ‘No,’ Sophia shouted back, ‘I’m married, I love Cooper.’ I went after her, D’Arcy had said. She bolted for the balcony. I grabbed her and pulled her to me. ‘No! No!’ she screamed, snatching away from me but fell, hitting the iron balcony rail. Oh God, I’ve killed her. I killed my brother and now I’ve killed Sophia. He stood up but then he sat back down,” Eli continued, as he narrated the events.

  “I’ll kill the son of a bitch,” Cooper swore. “God, I’ll kill him, Eli.”

  “No, Cooper, there’s no need. I watched the man, feeling something between hate and pity for him. He reached in his coat pocket for the pistol he’d placed there just a moment before. He started crying hard, making it hard to understand his words, but I heard him say, ‘Tell father I’m sorry, but it was his entire fault.’ Before I could react he put the pistol to his head and pulled the trigger. Since the door was open, several people saw and heard D’Arcy’s words, I walked out.”

  The room was silent for several minutes. Eli swirled the rum around in his glass and watched it. Cooper sat with his head in his hands feeling lost, like his world had come apart and he didn’t know where to turn or what to do. Yesterday, he was a happy man. Today, he was lost. His whole world had come apart. Everything he loved, everything he lived for, was gone. Like a candle flame when a door or window was opened.

  “Where is she, Eli?” Cooper asked.

  “She was partial to that oak tree overlooking the bluff. She said you’d put the bench there and that the two of you would sit in the shade of the tree and watch the river below. She told Debbie how the two of you sat and held hands without speaking, just enjoying each other. I laid her to rest there, Coop. I built a little fence around the grave and bench. There’s a headstone with angels carved into it. We can move her if that’s not to your liking.”

  “No,” Cooper sniffed. “I can’t think of a better spot, like you say, she loved it there. I want to go see her, Eli.”

  “Sure, Coop. I have a wagon outside. Coop, the men will want to pay their respects. What do you want to do?”

  “I don’t know,” Cooper replied.

  “Debbie said maybe a memorial service would be in order,” Eli said.

  “That’s good. Tomorrow afternoon, just before sunset, that was her favorite time,” Cooper replied.

  ***

  Later that night, Eli lay awake and talked to Debbie. “Did you tell him?” Debbie asked.

  “Tell him?” Eli replied.

  “Yes,” Debbie said. “The reason we had to go shopping.”

  “No, and don’t you breathe a word of it, either. It’s one thing to tell a man his wife has been killed. I couldn’t tell him she was with his child.”

  “He’d want to know, Eli.”

  “No, hell he wouldn’t. Look at all the boy’s lost. I’ll not make him suffer more. I don’t think I could stand it and I know he couldn’t.”

  ***

  Cooper spent a long time on the bench looking at the grave. It had been a week since the memorial service at the graveside. Colonel Lee had brought the local preacher with him. Jonah and Moses were also there, as were the entire crew of Raven. Pirates they might be, but they were good men with kind hearts. They showed that with the rescue of the Anthony women and they showed it with Sophia. There was not a man aboard who she’d not said a kind word to at some point or another.

  She had been Banty’s pet and he cried hard at the news. The men had gone back to the ship. Johannes was in charge. Mac had not wanted Cooper to be alone, so he had stayed. He gave his friend his privacy but he was always close by. Sophia had hired a cook and housekeeper, Rosa Palmer. She reminded Cooper of Belle with her cooking but, even though she was a black woman, she reminded him of his mother; her facial expressions, motions, and her peaceful ways.

  He’d thought about closing the place but Rosa changed his mind. Sophia had hired her to help make the house a home. He’d not change that. David Gill had sent a couple of the slaves over and put her in charge. She’d keep them busy and she’d make sure Sophia’s grave would be kept up.

  The jingle of trace chains were audible before the horses and wagon appeared. The man driving pulled up and another man got off the wagon. The driver drove the team on up to the house.

  “I’ve felt your pain, Cooper Cain.” It was Dagan from Norfolk. James was the driver, Cooper realized. Cooper kept sitting but slid over as Dagan stepped through the tiny gate and sat himself beside Cooper, placing his arm around his friend’s shoulders.

  Dagan’s kind act caused Cooper to break down again. “God, I loved her, Dagan.”

  “I know you did, Cooper. I could feel it in your words and actions back in Norfolk.” Neither spoke for a while, both just allowing the other his own thoughts.

  Finally, Cooper wiped his eyes and blew his nose. “I thought you were going to Antigua.”

  “I’ve already been,” Dagan said.

  “You decided not to go to England?” Cooper asked.

  “Maria’s decided to come here for a visit,” Dagan replied.

  “I’m glad you came, Dagan.”

  “I had to, Coop. You gave me energy again. I had to come support you.”

  Cooper turned and looked at Dagan, remembering his words; I see squalls coming but better days ahead. “You knew, didn’t you, Dagan?”

  “Aye, I had the feeling,” he replied.

  “Could I have changed it?” Cooper asked.

  “No, my friend, you were given something few men ever experience, that true, unconditional love. Betsy and I shared it. You shared it with Sophia. It’s better to have shared such a love and miss your woman, than to never have had it. But think, Coop, think about what you told me of Sophia’s life before you came along. Do you think she’d regret a minute of it? You gave her not a contract but your love and your name. As humble as it may be,” Dagan said this squeezing Cooper’s knee gently, “being your wife, being Sophia Cain brought meaning into her life. You gave her something she’d likely not ever have had otherwise. You made her a woman, not a mistress. You made her a wife and gave her dignity. You can mourn her loss, for your sake, but rejoice in the knowledge that you took her away from the life she’d had.”

  Cooper stood up and hugged Dagan. “We were in Antigua not long ago.”

  “I know,” Dagan s
aid.

  “You know, could you see that as well?” Cooper asked.

  “You might say that. I was there when you brought Sir Robert, Faith, and Maddy home. Had you stayed a while, we could have had a wet. You also could have met Lord Anthony and Bart.”

  “To tell the truth,” Cooper explained as the two walked toward the house. “It was one thing to rescue Faith and Maddy. The men looked upon that as an adventure of sorts. It’s another to sail into a harbor full of warships knowing full well that given the slightest whim, they could sink you or hang you, whichever took their fancy.”

  “Aye, lad,” Dagan said. “I can see where you are coming from. You’ve a letter from Faith and Maddy. James wants you to know he’s got an overseer for the Beaufort Plantation and he’s going to be here, so you will be neighbors.”

  “Are you going to stay long, Dagan?”

  “Depends on how well you feed me,” Dagan replied.

  “Rosa will feed you well. I want you to meet some friends of mine.”

  Nodding, Dagan said, “I met the Lees today.” Cooper laughed. A good sign, Dagan thought.

  “That Moses is a fierce sight, is he not?” Cooper asked.

  “Aye,” Dagan agreed. “I’d not like to get crossways of either he or Jonah.”

  “You were going to say brother,” Cooper said. “That’s alright, it’s the way they see things, and certainly the way Mama Lee sees it.”

  “I never did get her name,” Dagan said.

  “Sure you did,” Cooper said with a smile. “It’s Mama Lee. I’ve never heard her addressed any other way.”

  “Well, Mama Lee it will be,” Dagan replied. “Now, let’s see what Rosa has cooked. I’m ready to eat.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

  The routes taken by the slave ships were known as the ‘Triangular Trade Route.’ Ships from Europe would sail to Africa, buy or trade for slaves, and then sail to the Americas, West Indies, and on some occasions back to Europe.