Bring It Close (38 page)

Forty Two

North Carolina

Tiola moved to sit beside Elizabeth-Anne who was naked and lying on the bed on her side, her knees drawn up. The pulsations of the last contraction rippled beneath the sweat glistening on her skin. Somehow, together through the long hours, the two women had worked to get this far, and there was not much further to go.

As Sunday morning had dawned, Tiola had coaxed and encouraged, massaged and caressed. She was not going to lose this child, nor his mother. She put one hand on the woman’s in-drawn knee. They were nearly there. It was nearly over.

“Good, now breathe my dear, pant, that’s it, short breaths. I can see the crown. We are almost there. Elizabeth-Anne, we are almost there!”

She waited for another contraction to ease. “Let’s get you up – that’s it, we need to give your bones a chance to spread for the head to pass through.”

Elizabeth-Anne grasped Tiola’s hand as she shifted position and sat back in the middle of the bed, her bottom resting on her heels. Tiola massaged the skin around the birth canal, rested her fingers lightly on the cap of the baby’s head to hold him back a little, to give the perineum time to stretch naturally without tearing.

“Pant,” she said. “He has kept us waiting all this time, now he insists on hurrying!” She panted with Elizabeth-Anne; “
Hah
;
hah
;
hah
.” The baby’s head rotated, showing its wet, slanting forehead, and the perineum slipped over his face as easy as anything. The head was out. Tiola felt like shouting with joy, but all was not safe yet.

“One more push!”

Not losing the momentum, her body trembling, Elizabeth-Anne pushed downward for one more surge – and the baby was out, sliding into Tiola’s outstretched hands as she deftly caught him. Another term for the midwife – baby catcher.

“A boy!” Tiola cried, elated, peering quickly over its tiny, wet, mucky body to see in an instant that all the parts he was supposed to have were there. She laid him down, tied off the cord near his abdomen, making sure she bound it tight. She fetched a bowl, cut the cord and let the mother’s end drip into the utensil. The dark blood was not Elizabeth-Anne’s, she would come to no harm. This was placental blood and allowing it to flow a while would help the afterbirth come away the easier. She laid the baby next to Elizabeth-Anne, covered him and his mother with blankets and efficiently cleaned away the mucus from his nose and mouth. The little fellow was already crying, indignant at this frightening world, but the room was warm and comfortable, as would he be soon.

Elizabeth-Anne remained on her knees a while, staring down at him, her unbound, tangled hair flopping over her face. She reached up, tucked a strand behind her ear. Giving its normal warning of a rush of fresh blood the placenta was delivered, straightforward and quickly. Tiola was there with the bowl, she caught it, checked it had come away in one piece, that there were no tears left inside the uterus.

Overwhelmed with emotion Elizabeth-Anne barely noticed. She said nothing as she rolled over and gathered her baby to her breast, hushing him within her embrace, her kisses and her love. Tiola closed her eyes in prayer to the Great Mother who cared for all Her children.

She sent the servant running for clean bed linen – the girl had been useless except for fetching and carrying. She had spent most of the time squatting in the corner with her skirt over her head, refusing to look at what was happening. Tiola bustled outside onto the landing. Nicholas was waiting there, sitting on the top stair, his head in his hands; he leapt up as the door opened.

“My wife? My child?”

“Both are well. You have a son. Give me but a moment to tidy away the residue of women’s work and you may come in.”

Tiola hugged him, pleased, sharing his delight. “Be proud of your wife, Nicholas, she has laboured hard for you and your son this day.”

Forty Three

Virginia

Pleased that Rue had made sail in
Sea Witch
as he had ordered, Jesamiah set to at Hampton Roads with Robert Maynard to commandeer a second sloop. He already had the
Jane
, and her volunteered skeleton crew as his own vessel, the second one he had in mind he had seen at anchor close to where
Sea Witch
had been. The
Ranger
would be ideal for their purpose, and she had still been there, idling at anchor.

“Teach is expecting me to return with two sloops,” Jesamiah had said to the men in Spotswood’s office. “If Knight gets word to him of your plan, then he will also be expecting two Navy frigates. I propose I sail in with the sloops as near as I can get. If he spots us too soon I can play-act, confirm the Navy is wise to him. It might buy us a bit of time, at least get us nearer. With sloops,” he had added, “we can get in close. With frigates, we cannot.”

“And who will man these sloops?” Brand had asked.

“The
Jane
is mine, so I will have my men. You can put who you like in whatever other vessel we can acquire. As long as they are volunteers and they know what they are doing.”

“And what if Blackbeard sees through your scheme?” Captain Gordon had been scathing, reluctant to admit Jesamiah had the right of it. “What if he slips out, as you said he might, and attacks Virginia? How do we defend ourselves?”

Not wanting to confide that Teach might be less fearsome than they thought – at the last count he had only eighteen men left, assuming those who had taken Jesamiah and the injured Israel Hands ashore had not returned – Jesamiah had a simple answer to Gordon’s question. “Why not remain here with the
Lyme
and the
Pearl
. Use them and your valuable experience to keep guard over the Chesapeake. Also, if you were to stay with the frigates, if Knight has told anyone of what you had previously planned, they will be none the wiser that we are about to attack. No one will notice us sailing away in two sloops. They
will
notice you leaving, Captain Gordon.”

Gordon had liked the idea. It meant he did not have to become involved in any unpleasant fighting. Maynard too was pleased. Gordon was more hindrance than help. They would do better without him.

Brand had offered his own suggestion. “Are there not some of Blackbeard’s men remaining at Bath Town? If the
Lyme
or
Pearl
were to drop me off higher up the North Carolina coast as soon as may be – and return straight-way back here to quell any rumour, I could take my men overland, be in Bath Town at roughly the same time as you reach the Ocracoke. Cover your rear.”

Jesamiah failed to see the point, but he had held his tongue. Let the Navy think they were being useful and they would stay out of his way. There may well be some pirates remaining in Bath Town – the wounded Hands for one, but most of them would have melted away as soon as their captain had sailed out of sight. They were the ones who wanted to stay alive, who’d had enough of Blackbeard’s devilry.

Having to keep the new plan secret, Jesamiah and Maynard realised they could not simply march to Hampton Roads and demand the owner of the
Ranger
give her up. Jesamiah had the solution to that also. He bought her. A scatter of gleaming diamonds tipped from a second pouch sealed the deal within five short minutes.

The only man to be suspicious was the armourer, John Brush, as he tallied the number of boxes of muskets and small arms being taken on board both craft. He had recognised Jesamiah as soon as he laid eyes on him. A quiet word from Lieutenant Maynard had silenced him – helped along by Jesamiah placing two diamonds into the armourer’s palm.

“One for you, one for your daughter,” he had said with a smile.

For himself, Jesamiah had driven a hard bargain with Spotswood. He would provide the ships, the men to crew the
Jane
and the knowledge and experience to get close to Blackbeard. Virginia would supply the weapons, the crew for a second ship – and agree that Jesamiah could have a quarter of whatever they found aboard the
Adventure
when the fighting was all over. No one had said anything about maybe not being alive to collect what was due.

Jesamiah knew for a fact that there were at least a dozen chests of gold dust in Teach’s hold. Three of them would be enough to reimburse his outlay. And nor did he intend to stick to an agreement of a mere quarter! He had a rough idea of where Teach had hidden his own secret cache. Somewhere the Navy would not think of looking.

His men from the
Sea Witch
had been waiting aboard the
Jane
. Good men, though a couple Jesamiah had been tempted to refuse, but he had not dared suggest they stand down. Sailors, especially those aboard a pirate ship, were proud men. Thirty-three in all; among them, Nat Crocker, Finch, Joe Meadows, Sandy Banks, Isiah Roberts and Crawford. Twenty others and seven Navy Jacks made up the number. The
Ranger
had another twenty-five. With Jesamiah and Maynard they tallied sixty men. Teach had eighteen under his command, unless more had joined him since Jesamiah had been away. It was possible. Maybe Vane and Rackham had come back? There was no way of knowing until they arrived and could see for themselves. And even if Teach did have fewer men, he had cannon, the Virginians did not.

Jesamiah had not been sure about taking Crawford, he could be sullen and did not like taking orders, but he was good in a fight and a crack shot. In the end, Jesamiah let him stay.

To Finch, he had said, “You are not coming.”

“An’ why not?”

“Because I say so.”

“You expect me t’let you go off by yerself? T’get yerself killed?”

“I said no.”

“Why not?”

Close to losing his temper, Jesamiah had shouted, “Because for some utterly stupid reason I care about you!”

Finch had chewed his gums a little then spat a globule of spittle into the sea. “So you don’t care about these others then?”

“Of course I do!”

“Well then.”

His hands going as if to throttle him, Jesamiah had given up. “All right, but I’m warning you; if you get killed you’ll have me to answer to.”

Finch had grinned. “Aye Cap’n.”

The one other disagreement: Maynard had insisted on being aboard the
Jane
, leaving Midshipmen Hyde from the
Lyme
to command the
Ranger
.

“It is my orders, Jesamiah; I am sorry,” he had said.

“Spotswood don’t trust me, eh?”

“Would you trust you?” Robert had asked cynically.

Jesamiah had laughed. Admitted, “Nope. Never trust a pirate, except to trust that you cannot trust him.”

There were no cannons, only the minimal essential supply of food and water; nothing in excess, nothing that was not necessary. No one took any dunnage aboard. No clothes, no personal possessions. Just weapons. They needed to be light. The last thing they wanted was to run aground in the shallows of the Ocracoke under the baleful stare of Blackbeard’s guns.

At three in the afternoon of Sunday the seventeenth day of November, with men, ammunition, weaponry – including grenados – but little else aboard, the two sloops set sail from Hampton Roads bound south for the Ocracoke, off the North Carolina coast. For some of them it would be their last voyage; their last fight.

Forty Four

North Carolina

Clean sheets, a clean gown for Elizabeth-Anne, her hair brushed, the babe swaddled in a blanket; Nicholas sat on the bed with the little one gathered in his arms, a joy of wonder glowing on his face. The serving girl had made up the fire.

As, many miles away, the
Jane
and the
Ranger
were preparing to set sail from Hampton Roads, Elizabeth-Anne was propped against the pillows, her eyes closed. She had slept a little, had drunk some tea and swallowed a few mouthfuls of broth. The child had suckled at his first essential milk, but soon he would need to be fed again. Tiola had not insisted; there was no immediate hurry. The boy was asleep and Elizabeth-Anne would benefit from the rest.

Tiola was tidying away the last of the soiled linen, and felt Nicholas look up at her. She smiled across the room at him; at the perfect picture they made, the father with his son in his arms, the mother peacefully recovering. Only she was not. Tiola frowned. Elizabeth-Anne was pale and her breathing was coming in small gasps. Something was wrong!

Dropping the linen to the floor, Tiola was there at her side.

“What is it?” Nicholas asked, but Tiola hushed him, her fingers around Elizabeth-Anne’s wrist, counting the pulse-beat that was drubbing as if it were the summons of war drums. Elizabeth-Anne was sweating, yet her skin was cold to touch; white, almost translucent.

Tiola ripped back the bedclothes. The clean sheets, the clean gown, Elizabeth-Anne’s thighs and legs were saturated with blood.

Forty Five

Virginia

The
Jane
was much smaller than the
Sea Witch
, and Maynard’s frigate, the
Pearl
. A sloop this size, when handled by merchantmen would require as a minimum, no more than a third of the thirty-three hands presently on board. Rigged fore and aft, the single mast was stepped one third of her overall length aft of the bow. Stripped of all that was unnecessary she seemed spacious, although Finch had already been grumbling about the cramped conditions below.

“Ain’t room to swing a rat, let alone a bloody cat.”

“Remind me again why I agreed you could come?” Jesamiah had commented wryly.

The wind was gusting, but there was no need to adjust the amount of sail, the
Jane
could take the strain. She was proving to be a good little craft. Maybe his brother had done something right after all in acquiring her? Jesamiah walked up the steeply sloping deck to join Rob Maynard at the weather side, noting that it took him more effort than he would have expected. These weeks of sitting around in various gaol cells had not helped with the flabbiness of his muscles, though his weight had improved for the better. The poor diet of corn mush had been beneficial in one way. Grabbing the rail atop the bulwark, he grinned at Maynard who had one hand jammed on to his hat to keep it in place. Jesamiah had left his below, but now the threaded blue ribbons and the hair escaping from its tied queue were flogging about his face, stinging against his skin like miniature whip lashes. His coat flapped about his legs and he had to shout to make himself heard.

“She’s handling well – if we can keep this up we’ll be at the Ocracoke by Wednesday.”

“Don’t tempt fate, Acorne! We’ve a long way to go yet!” Maynard cupped his hand around his mouth to be heard; what with the wind, the thunder of the spread of canvas and the slap of the water against the hull he was having a hard job of it.

Jesamiah peered over the rail at the water churning past. They were making seven knots at least he reckoned. Above, the sky was as blue as a robin’s egg. He tipped his head, smiled. It was good to be aboard a vessel again, racing southward through the rollers of the Atlantic, although he would have been happier to be aboard his own
Sea Witch
. Still, she should be there at Pilot Point, waiting for him – if he managed to survive what lay ahead. Spray surged over the bow, soaking the men for’ard. Jesamiah could see them laughing, their mouths open, heads tossed back. Even Crawford had joined in. They too were pleased to be doing something positive, to be at sea.

“They seem a cheery lot,” Maynard observed. “I am amazed at the discipline you hold over them. They offer you minimum respect yet make no argument when you give a disagreeable order.”

“That is because we work as a team, as brothers, not master and slave. I give no order that is not necessary, and if any man dislikes the way I do things, he is free to leave at the next port. We have no floggings aboard my ship.”

“So how do you handle insubordination? It cannot just be an anarchic free for all.”

Jesamiah was watching the wake foam away, the sun gleaming on the churned water. Over to leeward, half a mile away, was the
Ranger
. He had already told Maynard he was impressed by the choice of Midshipman Hyde to command her. The man knew his job.

“Discipline?” he answered. “I get most of it by earning respect. They know I know what I am doing, that I am fair, and they will get a share of whatever prize we win.”

“And if they go against you?”

“Like I said, they have a choice to sail with me or not. Anyone pushing his luck too far loses that choice.”

Nat, at the tiller, adjusted the
Jane
a point and her sails cracked, the mast bending under the weight of the wind pressure.

Jesamiah looked Maynard square in the face. “If any man riles me, he gets two warnings.”

“And if there should be need of a third?”

The answer came as straight as the look. “He don’t get a third. I tip him over the side.”

A stronger gust of wind took Maynard’s disapproving reply away with it.

“They make the rules,” Jesamiah responded, “I don’t write ‘em. It’s the price of being free men. Work together or not. Their choice. Do you get such a choice in your Navy?”

Maynard stared ahead not wanting to answer. It seemed disrespectful to his king and the captain he served. All the same, he had to admit he was enjoying himself for the first time in months, being here with Acorne.

“You can go below if you wish, Rob, I’ll take this watch.”

“No, I’ll stay a while.” Maynard laughed, added, in case Jesamiah took his intention wrong, “Too excited to miss out on anything!” Nearly losing his hat he took it off and tucked it under his arm.

“There’s another reason the men are in a good mood,” Jesamiah said, thinking that perhaps he ought to be honest. He liked Robert Maynard, was grateful to him for the consideration he had offered. “There’s prize money aboard the
Adventure
. Gold dust mainly, a few chests of pieces of eight; another of gold coins. You’ll find it all stowed in the aft locker in Teach’s cabin. There’s a false floor. If you look at the outside of the locker then compare the depth with the inside, you’ll see what I mean.”

“Gold?”

“Aye, gold. Enough for you to retire on, mate, even after dividing it into the agreed shares.”

“I will get my provision of the hoard from the Admiralty.” The answer was rigid with disapproving starch. What Jesamiah was suggesting bordered on piracy.

“Will you? You sure of that? Look at Woodes Rogers! Think how little he got of the considerable prize money he collected: a mere handful of coin and the dubious reward of being made Governor of Nassau? And they call us pirates! You’ll not see a penny of it, Rob, believe me.”

It was a sad thing to have to say, but Maynard did believe him. He nodded, hesitated, said, “I have a sweetheart back in England. I would so like to have the money to be able to make her my wife.”

Jesamiah slapped his shoulder. “You live through this, Rob, you’ll be rich enough to buy yourself a whole harem of wives. Just make sure the plunder is taken quietly and put somewhere secure. Give your men a decent share to keep them quiet and lay low for a few months. Then find a reasonable excuse to buy yourself out of the Navy. The rest of your life will be yours to do with as you will.”

Finch had come on deck to announce he had managed to make something that vaguely resembled coffee. He overheard the last comment, had to add his own farthing’s worth. “Wives? You don’t bleedin’ want to be buying wives – better to bloody sell ‘em, not buy ‘em!”