Port of Errors (30 page)

Father Morgan felt the same chill, but reverently replied, “Remember, Davy, miracles can happen when God is involved and even though you have done many an awful thing, God may still have a plan for you yet.”

They stared in silence. And in that silence they felt a comfort unlike any they had ever felt before. It was then that they both felt that someone had been watching over them. And they didn’t speak of it again.

When the bodies were prepared, Kenneth held Katherine, while Black-Hearted carried Captain Stirvin. Proceeding to the grounds of Mr. Darcy’s estate, being the best kept and most serine portion of land on Port of Errors, they hoped to bury them in an undisclosed location. The rest of the men followed respectfully, carrying with them a large wooden box. After choosing and preparing the most appropriate site, Sterling and Nathan placed the would-be casket into a shallow grave. Black-Hearted then placed Captain Stirvin’s body peacefully at rest beside his dear wife within the coffin, where Captain Stirvin’s hand slipped perfectly into hers.

After showering the two bodies with beautiful island flowers, Black-Hearted and Kenneth placed the cover on the casket and nailed it shut. The small unofficial ceremony then concluded by shoveling loose dirt in to the shallow grave until the hole was completely filled in.

Black-Hearted stood beside Father Morgan, gazing upon the grave in remorseful regret. Holding a secret kept within from his dark past, Father Morgan spoke nervously, “Hearted, might I speak with you for a moment?”

“Go on, but I’ll have you know that I won’t be thinking clearly enough to pursue conversation.”

“Davy, it tore me up inside to see my son cry out for me as I left him at that orphanage so long ago. But I had no other choice. They would have killed me and my son and I couldn’t take another life after my vow.”

“Wait, what are you saying?”

“What I’m saying is I’m sorry, Davy.”

Just then a pistol sounded from a nearby thicket of trees, hitting Father Morgan, mid chest. The surprising force was so great it whipped him around until he fell to the ground. Sterling, in a mad dash, ran to his side.

“Throw down your weapons,” announced a voice from the thicket. “You’re in the open and outnumbered. ‘Tis a fool’s errand to think you’ve a chance.”

Ten nasty pirates appeared behind Black-Hearted, armed and ready. Unprepared for such a surprise, Black-Hearted turned to find he and his men surrounded. Black-Hearted promptly stripped off his brace of pistols and threw them to the ground. The rest of the men followed suit. “Your machete too,” mandated the unknown assailant, still hidden within the thicket. Comfortable enough to show his self, knowing all the weapons were strewn about the ground, Scurvy and two others stepped out from the thicket.

“Get over there with the others,” ordered Scurvy, as he walked dispassionately passed Father Morgan’s limp body. Curiously to those watching, Scurvy drew a small sack from his pocket. Reaching in, he pulled out a silver coin, which had a single digit inscribed on the front side and a double digit on the back. Holding it up and looking upon it with passionate craze, he announced, “This here be the final memento I leave for Morgan. After all these years, the deed is finally done.” Ordering Sterling from Father Morgan’s side, Scurvy reached down and forced it into Father Morgan’s mouth.

“I found a coin,” said Black-Hearted, putting all the pieces together, “near identical to that. I found it in Loren’s mouth. I still carry it to this day.” Intense anger festered up within Black-Hearted’s quaking frame. “Tell me it wasn’t you Scurvy, who killed my family all those years ago! Why my woman, Scurvy? Why Lorien? Why?”

“Hearted, don’t get too upset. It wasn’t you I was after. You just got caught in the crossfire. When I burnt the De Paul estate to the ground with your family still inside, it was especially effective to include that little wench of yours to the
conflag… conflagra… conflag-ra-ga-tion
?” frustrated, he yelled, “to the fire. I even planted that pistol engraved with the English crest. You were such a predictable boy, Hearted. Or shall I call you
Davy
.”

“I was a child. Why me? Why?” Black-Hearted quickly composed himself and calmly continued, “Scurvy, this is more than simple mutiny. But before I kill you I demand to know why you done it!”

“That’s just like you to say such a thing when you’ve already lost,” replied Scurvy with a laugh. “You’ve allied yourself with Stirvin. It’s you who truly be the mutineer!”

“If not for me, then why did you choose my family? What did they do to deserve such a death?”

“Because I knew that one day you would lead me to the great Sir Henry Morgan.
After he hid our treasure and the map, upon which was marked its location, I wanted to kill him with my own two hands. But as luck would have it, he became ill and news of his death reached my ears. But, I never did see the body. I had a feeling in my gut he was still out there.

“But, you see, as luck would have it, Henry Morgan had a son. It wasn’t ‘til a few years passed that I found the boy was given up to an orphanage in a cathedral in England. My real name is Shawn Averson and I’ve been planning this
superlatative
moment for a very long time. Instead of the riches we plundered, Morgan left me with a small handful of silver coins. As a gesture of my gratitude, I have placed one of these coins in the mouths of those I’d been forced to kill in order to find Morgan and quiet his lies.

“I never did find that map, not until a few months ago when I saw the inside of your hat. There it be, just an arm length away and I, helpless to say or do anything about it, knew you had been in contact with that vile old coward! I knew I was close and the treasure still untouched.” Scurvy cocked his pistol. “I bought your little girlfriend from the auction that day.
Emily
was it? I sold her to some Frenchman in the America’s. Too bad you won’t be seein’ her again.” Raising his pistol to Black-Hearted’s forehead, Scurvy continued, “I knew you were with those orphans being auctioned off. I made certain each boy was followed until I knew which one you were. I had to be very patient, but I knew you would lead me to you father. Starting the fire that day at the cathedral was so
inspirationable
. But negotiating payment to Mistress Riley and a few others to convince the town council to hold an auction was genius and an even greater investment.” Pausing for a laugh, Scurvy paced back and forth in reminiscence of his enduring plan.

“That wasn’t even the best part,” he continued. “Planting Isabel into a relationship with you worked like a charm. There were things you told her that we would have never otherwise have learned. I never thought that joining forces with Sir Fouste would ever have paid off like it did. And today my prayers have been answered and vengeance is mine. And you, the very son of the great Sir Henry Morgan, are as pathetic a man as he.”

Ready to snap the doghead down, Scurvy was suddenly tackled by Father Morgan from behind. With all of his three hundred plus pounds, Father Morgan fell directly on top of Scurvy. “I’m not dead yet,” said Father Morgan choking on the blood dripping from his mouth, some of which splattered nauseously on Scurvy’s face.

Though the bullet just missed his heart, Father Morgan’s wound was mortal. And even though Scurvy’s men still surrounded them, he continued to hold Scurvy for as long as he could.

“Kill Hearted now,” commanded Scurvy, “so Morgan can be witness to his son’s own death!”

“It’s me that you want,” said Father Morgan, breathless from his wound.

From out of nowhere came Gunner, Stephen, and twenty-nine others, rushing swiftly in on them. Scurvy’s men quickly abandoned the fight, running off in different directions. Black-Hearted raced for his brace of pistols and slung them over his shoulder, taking one in each hand, loaded and ready as always.

Scurvy managed to push Father Morgan off of his scrawny frame. As Scurvy stood, Father Morgan rose to his knees. Black-Hearted and Sterling quickly helped him to his feet.

Still reluctant to give in, Scurvy extended his pistol in sheer adrenaline-fueled anger, with hatred so intense, it could easily be read upon his expression. Father Morgan threw himself onto Black-Hearted just as Scurvy fired his last shot and they fell to the dirt together, each trying to protect the other. This time Scurvy missed his mark.

As Black-Hearted and Father Morgan sat up, still alive, they were happy to realize Scurvy would die thinking he failed and that was satisfaction enough for them as Gunner and the rest of his men unloaded on him. Dancing about in a twisted frenzy, Scurvy’s body fell to the ground. Within seconds he was completely white and devoid of blood. Scurvy was dead.

“Well,” determined Black-Hearted, “Scurvy did say once that he wanted to be buried in Mr. Darcy’s estate.” He then began to kick loose dirt over Scurvy’s corpse. A few of the other’s joined in as well.

Soon thereafter, Father Morgan groaned in an exhaustive tone and slipped back to the ground with his face to the dirt. With little hope, Black-Hearted turned him over. “Father Morgan!”

“Yes, me lad?” came the reply. “I’m sorry, Davy, but I don’t think I’ll be on my feet again. I’ve lived a life I am not very proud of, but I hope I ended it well.”

“Why did you not tell me that you were my father? I never knew that my father lived.”

Father Morgan opened his eyes, as blood dribbled from his mouth and nose. “I’m sorry I never spoke of it. It had been so long, I was afraid to say anything. But, you’ll always be my son.”

“I’m sorry, this wound is fatal,” determined Dr. Rees, as he examined the failing body. “Do to me as you will, either way this man is going to die. There’s nothing I can do.”

“Don’t tell me there’s nothing you can do. You’re a Doctor!”

“I am not a saint. I’m sorry but I am not a man of miracles. I suggest you spend less time arguing with me in this man’s last few minutes.”

Father Morgan, wheezing and coughing, didn’t waste any more time. “I took Sterling Wade, here, to father in me old age,” he explained, as Sterling continued to weep over Black-Hearted’s shoulder. “I suppose he took your place for a time. His father died years ago. Now, it is up to you to watch over the lad. He should be as a brother to you and the only family you have left.” Black-Hearted nodded in agreement. Changing subjects with urgency before passing on, Father Morgan confided, “Now, I must admit one last secret to you. The hat that you have worn these past several years, there is more to the map inside. The holes in the map,” he continued, as he placed into Black-Hearted’s hand the coin that Scurvy had forced into his mouth. “They are to be fitted with these coins. Scurvy thought they were just a slap in the face. But it was that very irony that put a smile to my lips,” he laughed, with a moaning ache. “They are the key to finding the treasure shown on the map. You will understand when you find the rest of the coins, as I know you will, and take a closer look at the map. There are six coins in all. You now hold two. If you know Scurvy’s intentions, you will know where to find the other four.

“Davy, after I done what I done, I realized that in raiding Panama, as ordered by the King of England, I slaughtered women and children. Something within me burnt such guilt into my heart. I knew the loot and all the booty that came with it would haunt me for the rest of me days. No one was entitled to that treasure. Not me; not Scurvy. That is why I buried it and that is why I divided the map into coin and paper and separated them. Scurvy never knew he had the location all this time. You must find this treasure and do as seems right to you.”

Taking the time to converse for only a few more minutes, Father Morgan peacefully passed on. A few more tears were shed, as Black-Hearted and Sterling buried Father Morgan in a shallow grave akin to Captain and Katherine Stirvin, who lay peacefully at rest hand-in-hand in an unmarked grave.

Following Father Morgan’s burial, Black-Hearted stared pensively on the two coins in his hand. When out of nowhere, he realized, “If all this time Scurvy had plotted to kill my father
and me
, where is the coin that was meant for me?”

“I’m sure I don’t know,” replied Kenneth.

“Well, I think I have an idea,” said Black-Hearted, as he walked over to Scurvy’s mutilated corpse and took a knee by his side. Rummaging through his pockets, he pulled out a small leather purse. It was light and flat and it seemed to hold no money. Turning the small sack over, he shook it a few times over his hand. Just as he was about to dismiss his idea, out slipped a shiny, untouched coin. Just as the others, a few numbers had been sketched into the back of it, while a single digit graced the front. “That makes three,” he stated with a pensive smile.

When they finally departed Mr. Darcy’s estate, a silent but small hand placed an unforgettable cross hung by a tattered rope upon the unmarked stone by Captain Stirvin’s grave.

As the sun rose to midday, Black-Hearted made his way to the Sentry, their new ship-of-the-line, compliments of Admiral Flynn. Though the name was stripped from her bow, they would raise no colors until a name could be inscribed on her hull. The name by which Black-Hearted chose to call her was
Morgan’s Ferry
.