87 Birds - Chapter 5
Title: 87 Birds
Author: gwyllion
Genre: Canon era
Pairing: Blackbeard | Edward Teach/Stede Bonnet
Rating: R
Words: 31,800
A/N: 87 Birds was written for the Our Flag Mean Death Big Bang 2022. Please see Chapter 1 for more notes.
Disclaimer: I did not create these characters. No disrespect intended. No profit desired, only muses.
Comments: Comments are welcome anytime, thanks so much for reading!
Stede instructed Frenchie to raise the flag. He didn’t need a spyglass to see the crew of the English merchant vessel scurrying belowdecks. Their ship was smaller than the Revenge, a fact that Stede thought boded well for the raid.
With no cannons or visible defences, other than a few mercenaries who were obviously hired to guide the ship on its journey west, the raid did not promise to be much of a challenge.
Stede tucked the spyglass into the interior pocket of his jacket, a deep blue wool affair trimmed with gold braid. He wore matching gold breeches from his auxiliary closet, although the jacket had been pilfered from the same French merchant that had owned the new sofa Stede and Ed had acquired a few weeks back.
“Get the Revenge alongside, Mr. Buttons,” Stede ordered. “If they give us any trouble, we’ll unleash hell!”
“Yeah mate,” Ed said, stepping up to the rail beside Stede. “Ivan and Fang have orders to protect your crew, if you need some extra, you know-oomph.”
“That will hardly be necessary, Captain Teach,” Stede said, grasping the toprail for balance. He didn’t look Ed in the eye, but the warmth of Ed’s leather jacket pressed against Stede’s shoulder. A casual observer would think them standing far too close to be merely co-captains, Stede blushed in the heat. “My men are more than capable. After all, they were trained by the most talented pirate in the Caribbean.”
“As you like, Captain Bonnet,” Ed said. He innocently rested his hand on the toprail beside Stede’s.
Distracted by Ed’s proximity, Stede took his eyes off the merchant vessel. He gazed down at the rail and watched as Ed’s pinkie finger reached over to link Stede’s with his own, unbeknownst to any pirates among the crew.
Stede choked and cleared his throat.
“You’re welcome to use my flag. It might end this raid before lunch,” Ed said with a wink. “I reckon we could think of something fun to do if it finishes up early.”
“You’re incorrigible, Captain Teach,” Stede whispered, heat rising to his cheeks.
Stede had awoken that morning with Ed’s breath on the nape of his neck. The mattress that served as the captain’s bed was hardly big enough for two grown men, but Stede wouldn’t have it any other way. Naked, and plastered to Ed’s sleeping form, Stede had never felt so utterly at home.
Sometime in the night, they had burrowed beneath the pink dressing gown, tugging it over their shoulders, too giddy with satisfaction to get between the sheets. In their private nest, they drifted together with soft touches and whispered promises even as they slept.
Stede licked his lips, remembering the taste of Ed’s salty skin and the gentle scratch of his beard against his thighs.
“It’s time, Cap’n,” Buttons said. He appeared beside Stede after handing the steering over to Frenchie.
Stede’s lips went thin as he watched Buttons shove his metal choppers into his mouth. “Well, that’s a moodkiller,” he announced to no one in particular.
Ed released Stede’s finger, “You’ve got the command, Captain Bonnet,” he said before retreating to observe from the lower deck.
Stede was grateful that Ed trusted him to direct the raid. After so many missteps in pirating, he finally got the hang of it. It meant the world to him that his leadership met with Blackbeard’s approval.
“Prepare the cannons!” Stede cried, signalling the Swede and Wee John, who manned the munitions.
The cannons of the Revenge were mostly for show, but as Calico Jack and Ed had once proven, they operated as smoothly as those of the finest battleships. The crew of the Revenge had been trained to fire a shot across the bow of the English ship to signal their intention to raid. A white flag was no guarantee that the hired mercenaries wouldn’t put up a fight.
On the upper deck, Jim and Black Pete waited, ready to strike at Stede’s command. Ivan and Fang flanked them, following Ed’s orders to support Stede’s crew. A few feet behind them, Roach stood at the ready, slicing a pair of knives against each other to sharpen the blades.
“And, fire!” Stede cried.
The shot went closer to the quarterdeck than Stede had intended. No serious damage was done, but it managed to tear a substantial section of ropes from the rigging. The merchant ship slowed in the water, but the Revenge, under full sail, soon overtook it.
The warning shot worked.
With their cargo secured and the English crew who hired them huddling in safety, the mercenaries scrambled across the deck of the merchant ship. But unless the English joined them to defend their cargo, this would hardly be a fair fight.
“Prepare to be boarded, curs,” Stede called across the churning sea that filled the gap between the two ships.
Jim heaved a grappling hook across the divide. It dug in with a thunk.
Fang and Black Pete did likewise. All three pulled on their ropes as Ivan called out in rhythm to guide their efforts. Within moments, the merchant ship scraped along the side of the Revenge. Both ships continued to move swiftly through the water.
Jim and Roach tied off the ropes so the ship carrying their loot would not break free.
Ivan, Fang, and Black Pete boarded the merchant ship first, but they were soon followed by their crewmates.
The mercenaries had their hands full with the boarding party from the Revenge.
Buttons leaped aboard and snapped at the closest mercenary who proved himself a skilled assailant.
Olivia swooped overhead, flapping her wings and crying out to distract the attacker. This allowed Buttons to grab at his enemy’s ponytail that emerged from beneath his cap. He shoved the mercenary’s face into the deck and growled, his teeth gleaming in the sunlight.
The sea swelled, making the ships scrape together with a squeal.
The ocean breeze tousled Stede’s hair.
Swords were drawn and pistols loaded.
Stede found it exhilarating.
“Stay by me,” Stede muttered to Lucius.
“I think I’ll just stay here,” Lucius said, his face gone white.
Using the sea legs that had taken months to develop, Stede easily leaped from the Revenge across to the deck of the merchant ship. He hoped that Ed was watching the finesse he exhibited. The dread pirate Blackbeard would surely approve of his smooth moves on the high seas.
“Avast ye scoundrels,” Stede shouted, raising his sword. “Prepare to surrender your loot. Although I will point out that I am the Gentleman Pirate. No harm will come to you if you’ll just let us peruse your library.”
“Watch out, Captain,” Jim shouted as they overtook another of the mercenaries. This one had dark hair trimmed into an unfashionable bowl cut. He fell to his knees and cried out in agony as Jim twisted his arm behind his back. Any mercenary hired by the English was no match for Jim.
Oluwande used an axe to break through the doors to the lower deck. Amid the shattered wood, the crew of the English merchant vessel cowered in fear. Some escaped Oluwande and dove into the sea. The rest were met head-on by the crew of the Revenge who were joined by Ed’s team of Fang and Ivan.
Chaos swirled all around Stede. His crew fought the mercenaries and burst through the storage areas of the ship, looking for the English to satisfy their bloodlust… or perhaps some literary tomes that could be used to make Ed earn forgiveness after he had tossed Lucius into the sea.
With a pair of the mercenaries fighting their own battles. Stede noted that only one remained unchallenged. Jim and Buttons seemed to be holding their own and the rest of the crew were occupied in steadying the merchant ship and the Revenge as they were dragged along the waves by their sails.
The remaining mercenary wore a cravat that covered his nose and his mouth. It was tied in a knot at the back of his head. His short greying hair crept beneath the fabric. He was not particularly light on his feet. He drew his sword but remained steadfastly in place.
Stede approached him with his own sword firm in his hand, ever cautious of the mercenary’s pistol that had thus far remained in its holster.
“Throw down your weapons,” Stede demanded, but the hireling stood still, seemingly without a care.
Stede drew closer.
“Stede fucking Bonnet,” the mercenary shouted.
At first, Stede was thrilled that he was recognized as a well-known entity in the pirating world. It was all he could have hoped for when he left Bridgetown with nothing but the clothes on his back, a model ship, and Mary’s painting of the lighthouse he was supposed to be for his family.
“You know me?” Stede cried, cautiously stepping forward with his sword.
The waves tossed the ship unevenly, the side of the vessel pounding against the Revenge.
The mercenary tore the cravat from his face.
“Izzy?” Stede cried.
“Oh dear God, oh dear God, oh dear God,” Lucius gibbered from the deck of the Revenge, where he hadn’t made any attempt to board the merchant ship. He hugged the journal to his chest and closed his eyes.
For the first time since they pulled alongside the merchant ship, Stede felt panic. Unwilling to take his eyes off Izzy, he didn’t dare to look around for one of his crew who might offer assistance. He had known that the English often hired mercenaries to defend their ships as they sailed across the Caribbean. It shouldn’t have surprised him that Izzy would be on the take.
“We end this now,” Izzy gritted out. He charged forward, heading straight for Stede.
Stede hadn’t kept his sword practice up as well as he should have, but he still believed he stood a fighting chance against Izzy.
He took three quick steps forward and felt for the deck beneath his feet.
“Come on you fucking ponce,” Izzy shouted, dropping into a fighting stance.
The stomping sounds of the melee taking place all around Stede made it hard to concentrate. One part of him wished that Ed was there to help, but he couldn’t very well ask Ed to help fight Izzy. Izzy was Ed’s right-hand man, the captain of a ship in his fleet, his long-time first mate. It would be too much to ask Ed to take arms against Izzy to defend someone like Stede.
Soft-handed…
Lily-livered…
Stede would take his chances against the master swordsman… again.
Izzy moved to the left and Stede followed. Their swords clashed.
Smashed.
Scraped.
Stede stumbled over his own feet.
His lungs burned from the exertion. He could barely maintain his balance as the merchant ship rolled with the waves.
Other battles played out around them. The pirates of the Revenge fended off the mercenaries handily. At least Stede could be assured that his crew would win out against their opponents. For himself, he had no such confidence, except that he felt like he looked dashing in his new jacket. It would be a good look for Ed to remember him by.
Overhead, Olivia screeched.
“I should have ended you when I had the chance, Bonnet,” Izzy growled when their swords met.
A match of strength, blade against blade, ensued.
Izzy pushed forward. He got leverage with his boots on the deck. A missing toe may have slowed him, but it did not diminish his strength, fuelled by hatred.
Stede shoved at Izzy. His shoes scrambled against the deck. Perhaps he needed to reconsider his choice of footwear when it came to its raid-appropriateness.
A bulkhead broke open beneath a battering ram commandeered by Fang. The scent of spices and rum emerged from the stores as readily as did the merchant ship’s crewmen. Several dove into the sea. Now it was up to Frenchie, the Swede, and Wee John to keep the deserters from gaining the deck of the Revenge.
Jim made quick work of a crewman who dared to strike Oluwande with a broken bottle. Their blade sank into the man’s chest as they gave a battle cry. Jim’s trademark hat was torn off their head by a brisk gust of wind that tossed it into the sea.
“I’ll get you a new one, Jim,” Oluwande shouted in thanks, before heaving the dead crewman over the rail.
Stede tripped around Izzy as he tried to stay on his feet.
The clang of their swords sounded over the waves.
Izzy forced Stede hard against the rail.
Below him, the sea swept by as both ships moved briskly through the water.
Stede tried to shove Izzy off, putting the full force of his weight into the effort.
Izzy’s spittle struck Stede’s face as he taunted, “He doesn’t love you, Stede fucking Bonnet. He could never love a ponce like you.”
“What?”
Izzy could only mean Ed. The claim made Stede lose his concentration, despite his doubt that Izzy told the truth. Izzy was just hoping to get him off-guard.
It worked.
Izzy pushed forward and Stede lost his footing.
Stede’s hands opened involuntarily as he fell to the deck. He watched in horror as his sword skittered out of reach.
Izzy glowered. He brandished his sword, ready to run Stede through.
So this was the end of the Gentleman Pirate. Killed in battle. All because he was trying to get some books on Ed’s behalf so Lucius could play at teaching him to read, thus forgiving Ed for what the Kraken had taken from him. The Kraken that Ed became because of Stede, who ran away, rather than trust in Ed and in his own heart that could finally be laid bare.
Izzy prepared to strike.
Stede believe that he wouldn’t survive a second time being run-through by Izzy’s sword, such was the hatred in Izzy’s eyes. The clatter of the fighting all around Stede filled his head with cotton. His fingernails dug into the bloody wooden deck of the merchant vessel. He wished he could find a barrel of gunpowder to throw a handful into Izzy’s face. But he knew he would not be so fortunate twice in his life.
Izzy charged.
Everything happened at once.
From somewhere in the rigging, Jim dove onto the deck. A coil of rope in their hand, Jim intercepted Izzy’s sword like it was a rabbit caught in a snare.
Stede was vaguely aware of Lucius, standing ten feet of churning sea behind him, on the deck of the Revenge.
Lucius shouted, “Go, go, go! Help him!”
A weight landed on the deck at Stede’s side, but he couldn’t turn his head. He wouldn’t turn his attention from Izzy who rushed toward him, almost unaware that his sword had been torn from his grasp.
With empty hands, Stede would face his death head-on.
Again.
Kind of.
Stede closed his eyes. Images from his past flashed before him. His youth. The Badmintons. His father. Mary. Alma. Louis. The crew. The scroll of images slowed as they reached the conclusion of A True Journal of the Life and Happenings of Stede Bonnet.
And at the end of it all…
Ed.
If Stede’s life ended today, he could take comfort that Ed had given his heart to him again. At least he had that memory to comfort him in the throes of death.
Stede heard the shot, but he never saw Izzy draw his pistol and aim it at him as he scampered forward. He only knew that he was shoved aside a split second after the shot. Or was it before?
When Stede opened his eyes, Ed lay on the deck beside him.
The bullet had entered Ed’s leg above his left knee. Blood spurted and sinew spooled from Ed’s leg, like a dozen miniature eels, each striving for the freedom of the seas.
Before Stede had time to think it through, he harnessed his rage and ran toward Izzy.
Izzy stopped short and struggled to reload. But it was useless.
Stede caught Izzy around his waist with the full force of his momentum and the anger that seethed inside him. He did not stop running until Izzy’s back struck the rail.
Izzy’s arms windmilled for a moment. His pistol flew from his hand and landed somewhere across the deck. If Stede was in his right mind, he would have grabbed it and shot Izzy dead. But it only took a shove to send Izzy over the rail and into the waves. As Izzy fell, the thump of a rope beating against the deck followed him. In the scuffle, his foot had become entangled in a length of rope that still swung from the damaged rigging. He fell into the water, but he was far from free.
“Captain!” Oluwande shouted, arriving at Stede’s side still brandishing his axe. He recoiled when he looked in the direction where Ed lay. “Are you alright?”
“Ed,” Stede muttered, catching his breath. “You need to help Ed.” He leaned against the rail and tried to breathe. He didn’t dare look at Ed, who surely lay dead at his feet. This was not how he wanted to remember the fearless pirate who had captured his heart. But he steeled himself and watched as the crew rushed to Ed’s aid.
Ed writhed in pain on the deck beside Stede. His hands, clad in his black fingerless gloves, went for his leg, but his fingers caught in the shredded leather of his trousers. Bits of shattered bone littered the deck. The bone fragments looked like glittering islands in the pool of blood that grew increasingly wider with every breath Ed took. Ed’s eyes rolled back into his head. Even a man as strong as Ed could not withstand such pain.
Stede turned away when Ed closed his eyes. He remembered how Ed could not bear to watch Izzy run him through in the hour after the fuckery. Ed had turned his eyes away without knowing that Stede prepared to take the sword on the side that didn’t hold the most important bits. Now Stede understood why. The grief would be unbearable.
“Goodbye, my love,” Stede’s heart wept. He turned back to the rail and gazed into the churning water between the two ships.
As Stede’s tears fell into the sea, he realized the rope that had been dragged overboard by Izzy’s foot still hung from the deck.
Below where Stede stood, Izzy struggled to get a breath of air as he bounced on the waves. His hands clawed helplessly at the rope that dragged him through the sea. The wind still filled the sails of both ships, their speed adding to Izzy’s agony. He gurgled and sputtered, trying to cry out for help, but a mouthful of seawater was his only reward.
While Jim and Black Pete kept the crew of the merchant ship at bay, Roach inspected Ed’s injury. “It doesn’t look good,” he muttered into Stede’s ear.
Stede looked upon Izzy with pity. He turned to see Ivan and Fang, their eyes full of hopelessness for their fallen captain who lay unmoving in a pool of blood. “Can we get Captain Teach back to the Revenge?” Stede asked. He tried to sound strong, commanding, to his crew, but he only succeeded in keeping his voice low and calm.
“We’ll get him there,” Oluwande said, clasping Stede’s shoulder.
“Olu,” Stede asked without emotion. “May I use your axe?”
“Sure, Captain,” Oluwande said, handing the axe over to Stede, before returning his effort to helping Ed.
Stede was relieved that Oluwande did not ask why he wanted it. As the crew worked together to move Ed’s body from the deck of the merchant ship across the divide to the Revenge, Stede gazed into the water where Izzy’s head dragged through the waves. He felt the heft of the axe in his hand as he watched Izzy’s eyes filled with panic in the cold dark sea.
He severed the rope with one blow.
~
In the dim cavern of the Revenge’s galley, Roach used every rag available to try to stop the bleeding from Ed’s leg. He wiped the sweat from his brow and pulled Stede aside.
“Blackbeard has lost so much blood, I fear he may not survive this,” Roach said.
Stede closed his eyes. “There must be something you can do?”
The crew who stood by, Oluwande and Jim, Black Pete and Frenchie, gave Stede and Roach their space to talk. Ivan and Fang whispered encouraging words to their Captain, but Ed showed no sign of understanding.
“Listen,” Roach began, “His leg is only hanging on by a hunk of meat the size of your fist.”
Stede absentmindedly made a fist and studied it as he rotated it back and forth. His expression was solemn.
“The bones of his leg have been shattered. You saw the bits of them on the deck of that ship. His knee is gone,” Roach explained.
Ed’s knee had always given him trouble. He winced in pain when rain was in the forecast. He limped to the toilet when he first arose from his sleep in the morning. Stede huffed. Ed would almost be better without the offending joint. But no, that could never be.
“He’s bleeding because the tubes that carry his blood have been severed,” Roach said. “You saw the state of that deck when we carried him to the Revenge.”
Stede nodded. “What is it you suggest we do?”
The Revenge, detached from the merchant ship where Stede had hoped to acquire new books, sailed west through the Caribbean. Even if they found an island with a doctor, there was no guarantee that they could do anything to save Ed’s leg if they got him there in time to save his life.
“With your permission,” Roach said. “If I cut through the remaining meat that is holding his shattered leg in place, I think I’ll be able to sew it up and stop the bleeding.”
“You think?” Stede asked.
“It’s a risk, of course, but in my professional opinion, it must be done soon, or he’s going to bleed to death.”
“And you need my permission?”
“Well, I can’t very well ask Blackbeard for his permission, can I?”
Stede turned to watch Ed, stretched out on the table in Roach’s surgery, the same table where Roach once mixed the ingredients for his famous Forty Orange Glaze Cake.
“Why me?” Stede asked sullenly. He suspected that it was because it was his responsibility as captain of the Revenge.
Roach grasped Stede’s arm with one hand. The other held the cleaver that would sever the rest of Ed’s leg from his body. “It’s because he would trust only you to make such a decision.”
Stede gasped when he considered the weight of the responsibility for what Roach proposed. “And the alternative?” he asked.
Roach closed his eyes and simply turned away.
Author: gwyllion
Genre: Canon era
Pairing: Blackbeard | Edward Teach/Stede Bonnet
Rating: R
Words: 31,800
A/N: 87 Birds was written for the Our Flag Mean Death Big Bang 2022. Please see Chapter 1 for more notes.
Disclaimer: I did not create these characters. No disrespect intended. No profit desired, only muses.
Comments: Comments are welcome anytime, thanks so much for reading!
Stede instructed Frenchie to raise the flag. He didn’t need a spyglass to see the crew of the English merchant vessel scurrying belowdecks. Their ship was smaller than the Revenge, a fact that Stede thought boded well for the raid.
With no cannons or visible defences, other than a few mercenaries who were obviously hired to guide the ship on its journey west, the raid did not promise to be much of a challenge.
Stede tucked the spyglass into the interior pocket of his jacket, a deep blue wool affair trimmed with gold braid. He wore matching gold breeches from his auxiliary closet, although the jacket had been pilfered from the same French merchant that had owned the new sofa Stede and Ed had acquired a few weeks back.
“Get the Revenge alongside, Mr. Buttons,” Stede ordered. “If they give us any trouble, we’ll unleash hell!”
“Yeah mate,” Ed said, stepping up to the rail beside Stede. “Ivan and Fang have orders to protect your crew, if you need some extra, you know-oomph.”
“That will hardly be necessary, Captain Teach,” Stede said, grasping the toprail for balance. He didn’t look Ed in the eye, but the warmth of Ed’s leather jacket pressed against Stede’s shoulder. A casual observer would think them standing far too close to be merely co-captains, Stede blushed in the heat. “My men are more than capable. After all, they were trained by the most talented pirate in the Caribbean.”
“As you like, Captain Bonnet,” Ed said. He innocently rested his hand on the toprail beside Stede’s.
Distracted by Ed’s proximity, Stede took his eyes off the merchant vessel. He gazed down at the rail and watched as Ed’s pinkie finger reached over to link Stede’s with his own, unbeknownst to any pirates among the crew.
Stede choked and cleared his throat.
“You’re welcome to use my flag. It might end this raid before lunch,” Ed said with a wink. “I reckon we could think of something fun to do if it finishes up early.”
“You’re incorrigible, Captain Teach,” Stede whispered, heat rising to his cheeks.
Stede had awoken that morning with Ed’s breath on the nape of his neck. The mattress that served as the captain’s bed was hardly big enough for two grown men, but Stede wouldn’t have it any other way. Naked, and plastered to Ed’s sleeping form, Stede had never felt so utterly at home.
Sometime in the night, they had burrowed beneath the pink dressing gown, tugging it over their shoulders, too giddy with satisfaction to get between the sheets. In their private nest, they drifted together with soft touches and whispered promises even as they slept.
Stede licked his lips, remembering the taste of Ed’s salty skin and the gentle scratch of his beard against his thighs.
“It’s time, Cap’n,” Buttons said. He appeared beside Stede after handing the steering over to Frenchie.
Stede’s lips went thin as he watched Buttons shove his metal choppers into his mouth. “Well, that’s a moodkiller,” he announced to no one in particular.
Ed released Stede’s finger, “You’ve got the command, Captain Bonnet,” he said before retreating to observe from the lower deck.
Stede was grateful that Ed trusted him to direct the raid. After so many missteps in pirating, he finally got the hang of it. It meant the world to him that his leadership met with Blackbeard’s approval.
“Prepare the cannons!” Stede cried, signalling the Swede and Wee John, who manned the munitions.
The cannons of the Revenge were mostly for show, but as Calico Jack and Ed had once proven, they operated as smoothly as those of the finest battleships. The crew of the Revenge had been trained to fire a shot across the bow of the English ship to signal their intention to raid. A white flag was no guarantee that the hired mercenaries wouldn’t put up a fight.
On the upper deck, Jim and Black Pete waited, ready to strike at Stede’s command. Ivan and Fang flanked them, following Ed’s orders to support Stede’s crew. A few feet behind them, Roach stood at the ready, slicing a pair of knives against each other to sharpen the blades.
“And, fire!” Stede cried.
The shot went closer to the quarterdeck than Stede had intended. No serious damage was done, but it managed to tear a substantial section of ropes from the rigging. The merchant ship slowed in the water, but the Revenge, under full sail, soon overtook it.
The warning shot worked.
With their cargo secured and the English crew who hired them huddling in safety, the mercenaries scrambled across the deck of the merchant ship. But unless the English joined them to defend their cargo, this would hardly be a fair fight.
“Prepare to be boarded, curs,” Stede called across the churning sea that filled the gap between the two ships.
Jim heaved a grappling hook across the divide. It dug in with a thunk.
Fang and Black Pete did likewise. All three pulled on their ropes as Ivan called out in rhythm to guide their efforts. Within moments, the merchant ship scraped along the side of the Revenge. Both ships continued to move swiftly through the water.
Jim and Roach tied off the ropes so the ship carrying their loot would not break free.
Ivan, Fang, and Black Pete boarded the merchant ship first, but they were soon followed by their crewmates.
The mercenaries had their hands full with the boarding party from the Revenge.
Buttons leaped aboard and snapped at the closest mercenary who proved himself a skilled assailant.
Olivia swooped overhead, flapping her wings and crying out to distract the attacker. This allowed Buttons to grab at his enemy’s ponytail that emerged from beneath his cap. He shoved the mercenary’s face into the deck and growled, his teeth gleaming in the sunlight.
The sea swelled, making the ships scrape together with a squeal.
The ocean breeze tousled Stede’s hair.
Swords were drawn and pistols loaded.
Stede found it exhilarating.
“Stay by me,” Stede muttered to Lucius.
“I think I’ll just stay here,” Lucius said, his face gone white.
Using the sea legs that had taken months to develop, Stede easily leaped from the Revenge across to the deck of the merchant ship. He hoped that Ed was watching the finesse he exhibited. The dread pirate Blackbeard would surely approve of his smooth moves on the high seas.
“Avast ye scoundrels,” Stede shouted, raising his sword. “Prepare to surrender your loot. Although I will point out that I am the Gentleman Pirate. No harm will come to you if you’ll just let us peruse your library.”
“Watch out, Captain,” Jim shouted as they overtook another of the mercenaries. This one had dark hair trimmed into an unfashionable bowl cut. He fell to his knees and cried out in agony as Jim twisted his arm behind his back. Any mercenary hired by the English was no match for Jim.
Oluwande used an axe to break through the doors to the lower deck. Amid the shattered wood, the crew of the English merchant vessel cowered in fear. Some escaped Oluwande and dove into the sea. The rest were met head-on by the crew of the Revenge who were joined by Ed’s team of Fang and Ivan.
Chaos swirled all around Stede. His crew fought the mercenaries and burst through the storage areas of the ship, looking for the English to satisfy their bloodlust… or perhaps some literary tomes that could be used to make Ed earn forgiveness after he had tossed Lucius into the sea.
With a pair of the mercenaries fighting their own battles. Stede noted that only one remained unchallenged. Jim and Buttons seemed to be holding their own and the rest of the crew were occupied in steadying the merchant ship and the Revenge as they were dragged along the waves by their sails.
The remaining mercenary wore a cravat that covered his nose and his mouth. It was tied in a knot at the back of his head. His short greying hair crept beneath the fabric. He was not particularly light on his feet. He drew his sword but remained steadfastly in place.
Stede approached him with his own sword firm in his hand, ever cautious of the mercenary’s pistol that had thus far remained in its holster.
“Throw down your weapons,” Stede demanded, but the hireling stood still, seemingly without a care.
Stede drew closer.
“Stede fucking Bonnet,” the mercenary shouted.
At first, Stede was thrilled that he was recognized as a well-known entity in the pirating world. It was all he could have hoped for when he left Bridgetown with nothing but the clothes on his back, a model ship, and Mary’s painting of the lighthouse he was supposed to be for his family.
“You know me?” Stede cried, cautiously stepping forward with his sword.
The waves tossed the ship unevenly, the side of the vessel pounding against the Revenge.
The mercenary tore the cravat from his face.
“Izzy?” Stede cried.
“Oh dear God, oh dear God, oh dear God,” Lucius gibbered from the deck of the Revenge, where he hadn’t made any attempt to board the merchant ship. He hugged the journal to his chest and closed his eyes.
For the first time since they pulled alongside the merchant ship, Stede felt panic. Unwilling to take his eyes off Izzy, he didn’t dare to look around for one of his crew who might offer assistance. He had known that the English often hired mercenaries to defend their ships as they sailed across the Caribbean. It shouldn’t have surprised him that Izzy would be on the take.
“We end this now,” Izzy gritted out. He charged forward, heading straight for Stede.
Stede hadn’t kept his sword practice up as well as he should have, but he still believed he stood a fighting chance against Izzy.
He took three quick steps forward and felt for the deck beneath his feet.
“Come on you fucking ponce,” Izzy shouted, dropping into a fighting stance.
The stomping sounds of the melee taking place all around Stede made it hard to concentrate. One part of him wished that Ed was there to help, but he couldn’t very well ask Ed to help fight Izzy. Izzy was Ed’s right-hand man, the captain of a ship in his fleet, his long-time first mate. It would be too much to ask Ed to take arms against Izzy to defend someone like Stede.
Soft-handed…
Lily-livered…
Stede would take his chances against the master swordsman… again.
Izzy moved to the left and Stede followed. Their swords clashed.
Smashed.
Scraped.
Stede stumbled over his own feet.
His lungs burned from the exertion. He could barely maintain his balance as the merchant ship rolled with the waves.
Other battles played out around them. The pirates of the Revenge fended off the mercenaries handily. At least Stede could be assured that his crew would win out against their opponents. For himself, he had no such confidence, except that he felt like he looked dashing in his new jacket. It would be a good look for Ed to remember him by.
Overhead, Olivia screeched.
“I should have ended you when I had the chance, Bonnet,” Izzy growled when their swords met.
A match of strength, blade against blade, ensued.
Izzy pushed forward. He got leverage with his boots on the deck. A missing toe may have slowed him, but it did not diminish his strength, fuelled by hatred.
Stede shoved at Izzy. His shoes scrambled against the deck. Perhaps he needed to reconsider his choice of footwear when it came to its raid-appropriateness.
A bulkhead broke open beneath a battering ram commandeered by Fang. The scent of spices and rum emerged from the stores as readily as did the merchant ship’s crewmen. Several dove into the sea. Now it was up to Frenchie, the Swede, and Wee John to keep the deserters from gaining the deck of the Revenge.
Jim made quick work of a crewman who dared to strike Oluwande with a broken bottle. Their blade sank into the man’s chest as they gave a battle cry. Jim’s trademark hat was torn off their head by a brisk gust of wind that tossed it into the sea.
“I’ll get you a new one, Jim,” Oluwande shouted in thanks, before heaving the dead crewman over the rail.
Stede tripped around Izzy as he tried to stay on his feet.
The clang of their swords sounded over the waves.
Izzy forced Stede hard against the rail.
Below him, the sea swept by as both ships moved briskly through the water.
Stede tried to shove Izzy off, putting the full force of his weight into the effort.
Izzy’s spittle struck Stede’s face as he taunted, “He doesn’t love you, Stede fucking Bonnet. He could never love a ponce like you.”
“What?”
Izzy could only mean Ed. The claim made Stede lose his concentration, despite his doubt that Izzy told the truth. Izzy was just hoping to get him off-guard.
It worked.
Izzy pushed forward and Stede lost his footing.
Stede’s hands opened involuntarily as he fell to the deck. He watched in horror as his sword skittered out of reach.
Izzy glowered. He brandished his sword, ready to run Stede through.
So this was the end of the Gentleman Pirate. Killed in battle. All because he was trying to get some books on Ed’s behalf so Lucius could play at teaching him to read, thus forgiving Ed for what the Kraken had taken from him. The Kraken that Ed became because of Stede, who ran away, rather than trust in Ed and in his own heart that could finally be laid bare.
Izzy prepared to strike.
Stede believe that he wouldn’t survive a second time being run-through by Izzy’s sword, such was the hatred in Izzy’s eyes. The clatter of the fighting all around Stede filled his head with cotton. His fingernails dug into the bloody wooden deck of the merchant vessel. He wished he could find a barrel of gunpowder to throw a handful into Izzy’s face. But he knew he would not be so fortunate twice in his life.
Izzy charged.
Everything happened at once.
From somewhere in the rigging, Jim dove onto the deck. A coil of rope in their hand, Jim intercepted Izzy’s sword like it was a rabbit caught in a snare.
Stede was vaguely aware of Lucius, standing ten feet of churning sea behind him, on the deck of the Revenge.
Lucius shouted, “Go, go, go! Help him!”
A weight landed on the deck at Stede’s side, but he couldn’t turn his head. He wouldn’t turn his attention from Izzy who rushed toward him, almost unaware that his sword had been torn from his grasp.
With empty hands, Stede would face his death head-on.
Again.
Kind of.
Stede closed his eyes. Images from his past flashed before him. His youth. The Badmintons. His father. Mary. Alma. Louis. The crew. The scroll of images slowed as they reached the conclusion of A True Journal of the Life and Happenings of Stede Bonnet.
And at the end of it all…
Ed.
If Stede’s life ended today, he could take comfort that Ed had given his heart to him again. At least he had that memory to comfort him in the throes of death.
Stede heard the shot, but he never saw Izzy draw his pistol and aim it at him as he scampered forward. He only knew that he was shoved aside a split second after the shot. Or was it before?
When Stede opened his eyes, Ed lay on the deck beside him.
The bullet had entered Ed’s leg above his left knee. Blood spurted and sinew spooled from Ed’s leg, like a dozen miniature eels, each striving for the freedom of the seas.
Before Stede had time to think it through, he harnessed his rage and ran toward Izzy.
Izzy stopped short and struggled to reload. But it was useless.
Stede caught Izzy around his waist with the full force of his momentum and the anger that seethed inside him. He did not stop running until Izzy’s back struck the rail.
Izzy’s arms windmilled for a moment. His pistol flew from his hand and landed somewhere across the deck. If Stede was in his right mind, he would have grabbed it and shot Izzy dead. But it only took a shove to send Izzy over the rail and into the waves. As Izzy fell, the thump of a rope beating against the deck followed him. In the scuffle, his foot had become entangled in a length of rope that still swung from the damaged rigging. He fell into the water, but he was far from free.
“Captain!” Oluwande shouted, arriving at Stede’s side still brandishing his axe. He recoiled when he looked in the direction where Ed lay. “Are you alright?”
“Ed,” Stede muttered, catching his breath. “You need to help Ed.” He leaned against the rail and tried to breathe. He didn’t dare look at Ed, who surely lay dead at his feet. This was not how he wanted to remember the fearless pirate who had captured his heart. But he steeled himself and watched as the crew rushed to Ed’s aid.
Ed writhed in pain on the deck beside Stede. His hands, clad in his black fingerless gloves, went for his leg, but his fingers caught in the shredded leather of his trousers. Bits of shattered bone littered the deck. The bone fragments looked like glittering islands in the pool of blood that grew increasingly wider with every breath Ed took. Ed’s eyes rolled back into his head. Even a man as strong as Ed could not withstand such pain.
Stede turned away when Ed closed his eyes. He remembered how Ed could not bear to watch Izzy run him through in the hour after the fuckery. Ed had turned his eyes away without knowing that Stede prepared to take the sword on the side that didn’t hold the most important bits. Now Stede understood why. The grief would be unbearable.
“Goodbye, my love,” Stede’s heart wept. He turned back to the rail and gazed into the churning water between the two ships.
As Stede’s tears fell into the sea, he realized the rope that had been dragged overboard by Izzy’s foot still hung from the deck.
Below where Stede stood, Izzy struggled to get a breath of air as he bounced on the waves. His hands clawed helplessly at the rope that dragged him through the sea. The wind still filled the sails of both ships, their speed adding to Izzy’s agony. He gurgled and sputtered, trying to cry out for help, but a mouthful of seawater was his only reward.
While Jim and Black Pete kept the crew of the merchant ship at bay, Roach inspected Ed’s injury. “It doesn’t look good,” he muttered into Stede’s ear.
Stede looked upon Izzy with pity. He turned to see Ivan and Fang, their eyes full of hopelessness for their fallen captain who lay unmoving in a pool of blood. “Can we get Captain Teach back to the Revenge?” Stede asked. He tried to sound strong, commanding, to his crew, but he only succeeded in keeping his voice low and calm.
“We’ll get him there,” Oluwande said, clasping Stede’s shoulder.
“Olu,” Stede asked without emotion. “May I use your axe?”
“Sure, Captain,” Oluwande said, handing the axe over to Stede, before returning his effort to helping Ed.
Stede was relieved that Oluwande did not ask why he wanted it. As the crew worked together to move Ed’s body from the deck of the merchant ship across the divide to the Revenge, Stede gazed into the water where Izzy’s head dragged through the waves. He felt the heft of the axe in his hand as he watched Izzy’s eyes filled with panic in the cold dark sea.
He severed the rope with one blow.
~
In the dim cavern of the Revenge’s galley, Roach used every rag available to try to stop the bleeding from Ed’s leg. He wiped the sweat from his brow and pulled Stede aside.
“Blackbeard has lost so much blood, I fear he may not survive this,” Roach said.
Stede closed his eyes. “There must be something you can do?”
The crew who stood by, Oluwande and Jim, Black Pete and Frenchie, gave Stede and Roach their space to talk. Ivan and Fang whispered encouraging words to their Captain, but Ed showed no sign of understanding.
“Listen,” Roach began, “His leg is only hanging on by a hunk of meat the size of your fist.”
Stede absentmindedly made a fist and studied it as he rotated it back and forth. His expression was solemn.
“The bones of his leg have been shattered. You saw the bits of them on the deck of that ship. His knee is gone,” Roach explained.
Ed’s knee had always given him trouble. He winced in pain when rain was in the forecast. He limped to the toilet when he first arose from his sleep in the morning. Stede huffed. Ed would almost be better without the offending joint. But no, that could never be.
“He’s bleeding because the tubes that carry his blood have been severed,” Roach said. “You saw the state of that deck when we carried him to the Revenge.”
Stede nodded. “What is it you suggest we do?”
The Revenge, detached from the merchant ship where Stede had hoped to acquire new books, sailed west through the Caribbean. Even if they found an island with a doctor, there was no guarantee that they could do anything to save Ed’s leg if they got him there in time to save his life.
“With your permission,” Roach said. “If I cut through the remaining meat that is holding his shattered leg in place, I think I’ll be able to sew it up and stop the bleeding.”
“You think?” Stede asked.
“It’s a risk, of course, but in my professional opinion, it must be done soon, or he’s going to bleed to death.”
“And you need my permission?”
“Well, I can’t very well ask Blackbeard for his permission, can I?”
Stede turned to watch Ed, stretched out on the table in Roach’s surgery, the same table where Roach once mixed the ingredients for his famous Forty Orange Glaze Cake.
“Why me?” Stede asked sullenly. He suspected that it was because it was his responsibility as captain of the Revenge.
Roach grasped Stede’s arm with one hand. The other held the cleaver that would sever the rest of Ed’s leg from his body. “It’s because he would trust only you to make such a decision.”
Stede gasped when he considered the weight of the responsibility for what Roach proposed. “And the alternative?” he asked.
Roach closed his eyes and simply turned away.