Bring It Close (40 page)

Forty Nine

Thursday 21st November

The
Jane
and the
Ranger
dropped anchor at the northern end of Ocracoke Island where trees would partially hide their masts. Teach, assuming he was where Jesamiah had left him, was sixteen miles away at the other end. It was mid morning and they had no intention of moving further down until the evening. Once they did move there would be need for stealth and as much quiet as possible, with a minimum risk of running aground. The aim was to attack Teach at first light, going in with the flood tide before he realised they were there.

All the men were weary. The voyage had been as fast as they could make it and not one of either crew had shirked any portion of the work. They went ashore to relax for an hour, to eat, sleep, to check and load their weapons. Every man had at least two pistols and a musket. The grenados were placed in baskets ready for use, the Colours were laid ready. All they waited for was the sun to start sliding down the sky towards the horizon.

Fifty

Once the sun had begun to set, Tiola had managed to stay near Sam Odell’s brig – she had spent the afternoon with two of Odell’s men on what, on the Ocracoke, was termed as ‘inland’, snaring wild birds for supper. They had caught a fair few, and with campfires blazing, the evening had been heralded by the smell of roasting meat. But even staying out of the way she was aware that Blackbeard’s interest had been drawn to her.

He had no fancy for boys; that she did know. Had he recognised her face? She dared not use her Craft to alter her appearance – she passed well enough for a boy without it. Unless someone ripped open her shirt or caught her relieving herself in the bushes, she was safe. Normally, even if they did, she would have used her ability to make them instantly forget what they had seen. But so close to Teach, she had to be careful. She could hear the whisperings of the Malevolents that possessed him. They were aware that something was not right; she had only to use her Craft once and they would have her. It was not that she was afraid, not for herself, but she could not kill Teach, to do so was against all the laws of Light. Another would need to do that – and for the doing she first had to defeat the Dark at the right time and in the right place. Neither of which was here as evening settled. And so she suppressed her Craft and stayed out of sight as much as possible.

Teach and Odell had eaten their fill and the drink the merchant had supplied was rapidly swamping any empty space in their bellies. Once it was full dark Tiola had made up her mind to slip away. There were not many places to hide on the Ocracoke, but not one of those men getting steadily drunker would bother tramping several miles in search of a missing boy.

Teach looked at her again. She tried to duck her head, pretend she was busy, but he called to her. “Boy. Oi, boy, come thee over here.”

Reluctant, she padded on bare feet across sand that was warm from the day’s sun. She stopped a few yards away, kept her gaze downcast.

“They tell me thee caught an’ cooked these birds.”

“Aye, Sir.”

“Speak up boy, let us see thy face!”

Nothing for it, she would have to brazen this out. She lifted her head, but did not look direct at him. Instead, she shifted her line of sight to a vague point above his shoulder. Eye to eye, the Malevolents would link to her.

“Thee be a pretty boy, bain’t thee?” Teach observed. “How old be thee then?”

“Thirteen, I think, Sir, though as I cannot count beyond ten I cannot be certain.” She mimicked the Carolina accent; dared not allow any trace of her own Cornish burr to taint her voice.

Teach peered at her more intently. “Where’ve I seen thee before then, eh?”

She had been expecting the question, had her answer ready. “I’ve seen you many a time, Sir. I come from Bath Town, I’ve been pesterin’ my Ma to let me join your crew, but she were a bit dipsy about that. Said I’d be better off askin’ Captain Odell here. Which I did an’ he were good enough t’take me on.”

It worked. Teach was losing interest. “Thee want to be a sailor then, boy?”

Again she put eagerness into her answer, “Oh aye, Sir! That I do!”

“Well then, get thee up an’ over them dunes there, and keep thy eyes peeled fer sign of a Navy frigate. There’ll be a moon risin’ later, thee may just see somethin’ that’ll be o’ great use t’all o’ us. Off thee go.”

Tiola gave a little hop and a bow as an excited boy would do, then turned and ran, her heart pounding with relief.

“A frigate?” Odell queried. “You expecting company?”

Teach generously topped up his guest’s tankard. “Nay, I b’lieve it t’be all piss an’ wind, but tha lad may’n well be useful – just in case I be wrong.” He pulled a letter from his pocket, handed it to Odell, who squinted at it in the flicker of firelight.

He could make out only a few words, “‘
If this finds thee yet in harbour – Make thy way up as soon as –
’ signed,” he squinted harder, “‘
thy real friend
.’ By Gad, Teach, this be a warning! Is it safe to stay here? Who sent it?”

“Tobias Knight, a jellyfish of a fool. Bain’t no Navy boats goin’ t’get close t’us ‘ere.”

“Strikes me you might be the fool, Teach.”

“What’s that? Thee callin’ me stoopid?”

“Course not, but I do not want to get involved in no fighting.”

“Thar’s bain’t goin’ t’be no fightin’, only drinkin’ and thee’s fallin’ behin’ me, ol’ mate – thee’s fallin’ behin’! Hie there, Tom, where be that fiddle o’ thine? Give us a tune eh? A lively tune fer us t’sing to!”

Fifty One

They had let the sloops drift in; Nat Crocker pushing the tiller over and Skylark whipping the mainsheet off the cleat, the line running through his rough hands. At the right moment, Jesamiah, standing forward in the bow and leaning so far over he had almost tumbled, had frantically signalled for the anchor to let go. The
Jane
had come to rest on the opposite side of the island to where Teach was anchored; the
Ranger
a short way behind her.

In the darkness Teach’s exact position was uncertain, but the singing, the laughter and carousing from his camp was enough to guide them. As quietly as was possible the sails came down, a cold meal was passed around and men settled to sleep, but when the moon rose – not quite a half moon – Jesamiah whispered to Maynard that he was going to take one of his men to see exactly where Teach was and what he was doing.

“Are you mad?” Maynard hissed back at him. “We know roughly where he is. That will suffice.”

“I don’t do roughly, Rob.”

“Then I will come with you.”

“Don’t be daft. If I get caught I can bluff my way out. You will be horribly murdered. Aside, someone has to stay here in command.”

Jesamiah took Skylark with him. Slipping barefoot over the side, they half swam, half waded for the shore. They had daggers only, nothing on them that could chink or clatter. Keeping their heads down they ran up the narrow beach and over the sand dunes. Even this short way inland the smell was different; the scent of earth, of foliage and warm sand cooling after a day in the sun. The chirrup of insects, the sound of the wind whispering through the marsh grass, the sigh of the sea. The moon gave sufficient light as they ran, crouching low, their shadows leaping beside them, appearing like grotesque beasts keeping pace.

The laughter was louder, the clink of bottles, a man belching. Teach’s wild guffaw. A fiddle began to scrape a tune and several of Teach’s men began to sing – more laughter, and the hollow stamp of feet on the sand.

Jesamiah signalled to drop to their bellies and he and Skylark squirmed forward up another dune, found themselves peering down at three camp fires, men sprawled around in various poses, several dancing raucous jigs in the space between, many of the rest already in a drunken sleep. There were two boats at anchor here on the inner, sheltered side of the island, protected by the shoals and sandbanks. The
Adventure
and another Jesamiah did not recognise.

“Odell,” Skylark whispered into Jesamiah’s ear. “The
Cormorant
.” He recognised her immediately, for he had painted her likeness several times when keeping watch at Bath Town.

“How many in Odell’s crew?” Jesamiah asked.

“Hard to say; differed. Nine maximum. They won’t fight. Odell’s a trader, not a pirate.”

“An’ it don’t look like Teach has got any more men than when I was last ‘ere.”

A shout went up from around the fire, instinctively Jesamiah and Skylark ducked down, but it was only two of them squabbling. Jesamiah recognised them, Gibbens and Red Rufus.

“If only I had a pair of pistols. I’d take those two buggers out right now.”

“Not a good idea Cap’n.”

~ He is right, luvver;
you would be dead before you could reload. ~

Tiola?

~ I am here, to your left. ~

Jesamiah motioned for Skylark to pull back, squirmed around and studied the tree over to his left. He had not noticed her, could not even be certain she had been there a moment ago, but it seemed as if she was stepping out from the very trunk itself as she showed herself.

“What the…!” he bit his tongue, he had almost shouted at her. ~
What the fok are you doing here
? ~

~
I could ask the same
. ~

~
Aye, but you’d not get a bloody answer
! ~ He was cross because he had been startled, and the crossness rapidly shifted to anger as fear set in. This was no place for his wife! ~
I told you to stay away
! ~

~
And I told you I had to come. It seems we do not listen to each other
. ~ She was teasing, laughter was in her voice. Jesamiah could see nothing funny.

Signalling with his hand, he indicated that Meadows was to go back to the sloops. He pointed to Tiola then himself. Skylark nodded, grinned, his teeth flashing white in the moonlight. Then he was gone, running low over the dunes. If he wanted to know how Tiola had got there, or ask questions, he would have to bide his time and wait.

Jesamiah grasped Tiola’s arm and half marched, half dragged her northward, away from Teach and the two sloops. There was a generous stand of trees that he remembered about half a mile away. He’d slept there a couple of times when he had wanted a respite of privacy. Few of Teach’s men bothered wandering far from the shore. Walking required effort and effort was something they shied clear of.

“What are you doing here?” he snapped when they could talk, though in little more than a whisper. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“Are you?” she answered with equal indignity. “You cannot kill Teach without my help.”

“Oh aye? Learnt to shoot now, have you?”

It was no good arguing. Tiola released her bottled anger, calmed and centred herself. “What possesses Teach protects him. Like me he can die, but it will not be easy to kill him.”

With her anger faded, Jesamiah too calmed down, although his fear for her safety was hammering at his heart. “So you will help us finish him? Use your spells?”

She laid her hand on his chest, dipped her head, scared to look at him, to tell him the truth, but she had to. “As soon as I can I will drive out the Dark, but I cannot kill him, Jesamiah. You know I cannot.”

He stepped away, turned his back on her, his anger spilling over the edge again. “You abort babies. That’s killing, ain’t it?”

That hurt. She was on the edge of crying. There had been so many cruel deaths, and her frayed emotions were shouting at her to put an end to Teach now – but she could not. She could not kill unless her own survival depended upon it.

“I rarely terminate a pregnancy, Jesamiah. When I do it is because the mother would not survive if I did not. I sometimes have to choose to end the life of a babe during birth, but it would die anyway, I merely hasten its end. And it is not a choice I make lightly.”

He hunched his shoulders, folded his arms, said, “Then let’s do it now. You do what you have to do and I will do my part.” He pulled the dagger from his belt, its blade glinting in the moonlight.

She shook her head. Men were going to die – Jesamiah too maybe – but there was nothing she could do to prevent it. Nothing. “I cannot. Until the balance shifts, I will not possess enough power to defeat him. If I tried now I would also die, the Dark and the Light are of equal status, Jesamiah. What I send out will return threefold if I am not careful with my control. I must wait until there is a fluctuation of Existence, then transform the negative energies into positive. And I can only do that when I am summoned, and Time becomes right.”

“Summoned? Who by?” Jesamiah demanded. His anger, his frustration, building. He did not understand a word of what she was talking about, but understood that she was trying to tell him there could be extreme danger for her. He had a sudden feeling that he did not want to hear an answer to his question.

Tiola put her hand on his arm, said quietly into his mind, ~
By the stopping and starting of Time, and by one who cannot die, for he is already dead
. ~

“My father. My bloody father?”

She nodded.

Charles Mereno had not been honest with her, she was well aware there was much that he had not said, and she had sensed his presence here on the Ocracoke from the moment she stepped ashore. Just why he was here, what his intentions were, she had no idea. That they were interlinked with Edward Teach did not take much guessing. But was there something else? There was something troubling Charles Mereno, something deeply distressing him. But what?

Jesamiah walked away a few paces, stood in the cradle of silvered moonlight, his head bowed, tired, worried. Uncertain. “I’ve already told my father, several times over, that I do not want to know. The past is done, closed. I want only the future, Tiola.” He turned slowly around, looked so vulnerable, so sad. “All I want is you, my wife.”

“I am here, and I promise I will keep myself safe, if you will promise the same?”

He looked at her, she was so beautiful, even appearing as she was, a ragged-dressed, barefoot boy. Was she really his? Or was this some wicked faery trick of an illusion to make him believe he was the luckiest man alive?

“That is not a promise I can make,” he said sadly. “I cannot hang back and expect my men to fight for me.”

Tiola was quiet a moment. No, he could not, and if death was his fate, then…She released her breath in a quivering shudder of acceptance. He would die one day, that was a certainty. One day, she would be without him until they met again in the next world. That was his fate. She had no control over fate, the future or destiny. But she did have control over the here, the now.

“Make love to me,” she said, “so we can be as one for this night.”

He had no need to answer, no need to say that maybe this could be their first and only night as husband and wife. He did show her how much he loved her, though. Showed her in the way he knew best.