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Josiah Burgess looked as if he’d seen a ghost, which was exactly the reaction Stede had hoped for. If their little performance on the beach had been enough to convince him, then it had probably been enough to convince Hornigold as well.
The barkeep brought over another bottle, setting it down in front of the man, who didn’t even seem to notice him, his eyes fixed warily on Stede’s face.
“Thank you,” Stede said to the man. “A second glass too, if you don’t mind? My friend and I can share this bottle.”
He took Burgess’ dazed stare as a chance to study the man himself. At once, he could see what Ed meant about him presenting himself well. He could have passed as a respectable merchant in any port in the colonies, tailored and well-groomed and dashing even, if not for the gaping like a stunned fish.
“ How ?” Burgess blurted out suddenly. “How the fuck did you do that?”
Stede grinned. “You know Ed,” he said. “He taught me a thing or two.”
Burgess’ face went through a dozen expressions like a flickbook. “Shit! Ned! Hornigold caught him.”
Holding up a finger for silence as the barkeep came back, Stede accepted the second glass, then reached for the bottle, pouring them both a small measure. “Did he?”
“You know he did! He took your ship! Took him!”
Trying hard not to wriggle gleefully in his seat, Stede hummed non-committally and took a sip from his glass.
Burgess stared at him. “He... did take your ship?”
“Mm!” Stede nodded. “Oh, yes. He did. No question of it.”
One thing Ed had made absolutely clear about Josiah Burgess was how smart he was so Stede just sat, waited, watched him. The man was tipsy enough that his face gave him away. It was like seeing the cogs of clock moving and shifting into place and he saw the exact moment when Burgess put everything together, like the chime of the bell.
“Fuck.”
“What?” Stede asked innocently, trying very very hard not to smile. It wasn’t working very well, not with the relief of knowing pieces were all falling into place.
“You let him think he’d taken your fucking ship?”
“Well sussed.” Stede tipped his glass towards him.
“And Ned?”
Not Stede’s favourite part of the plan, that. “Unfortunately, yes.”
Burgess sagged back in his seat. “Fucking hell.” He eyed Stede suspiciously. “What the fuck are you doing just sitting here?”
“I told you,” Stede replied, leaning in conspiratorially, “you’re going to help me.” He groped in his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Olu had delivered it to him barely an hour ago and he unfolded it, spreading it on the tabletop. “You’re a pirate hunter, aren’t you?”
“Well, yeah.” Burgess shoved his glass aside, clearly realising that being drunker wasn’t going to help.
Stede slid the paper across the table. “I have a target for you.”
Burgess propped his arms on the table, leaning down to look at it, eyes widening in recognition.
Doug had done a marvellous job, printing up hundreds of pages for them in a matter of hours. Thank goodness Olu had managed to get to Barbados – carrying Stede and Ed’s mocked-up draft of the notice along with Lucius’s excellent sketch of Hornigold – and bring the resulting Wanted notices back in time.
“This is bullshit,” Burgess said. “This whole thing.”
Stede raised his eyebrows. “Is it though?”
“Yeah it is,” Burgess said, shaking his head in confusion.
“But is it?”
Burgess pushed himself back up in his chair. “One, he’s not Blackbeard. Two, he’s not on this ship, he’s on the Revenge. Three, he couldn’t possibly have been carrying out raids all over the eastern coast of Jamaica for the past month because he’s been a complete pain in my arse for the majority of that time.”
And now, to find out if Ed’s suspicions were right...
“What if,” Stede said, “he was?”
“The fuck you saying?”
“What if,” Stede said quietly, leaning on the table, “this bearded man was hunted down on this ship, a ship last known to belong to Blackbeard, which has been carrying out raids all over the eastern coast? A man known to be dangerous and violent and cruel. And the name of his ship alone is enough to be offended! Look at that!” He tapped the description of the ship. “Thumbing his nose at good King George with his Jacobin ship.”
Tick tick tick went the clockwork of Burgess’ brain.
“He’s on the Revenge ,” he said, leaning back in. “I saw the name of the ship myself.”
“Maybe,” Stede agreed. “But maybe that’s not the... permanent name. Names can be changed surprisingly fast, I’ve found.”
Burgess’ eyes flicked back down to the Wanted notice. “This isn’t the only notice, is it?”
“God no,” Stede beamed at him. “We’ve had them distributed all over the Caribbean for the past week. Any navy vessel, bounty hunter or pirate hunter worth their salt will be going after the ship and the man who captains it. You would just have the advantage, being so close to his last known location.”
“All over...” Burgess resorted to staring again. “Fucking hell.”
“Mm.” Stede drew the notice back across the table, folding it back up and tucking it in his pocket. “He really made a mistake when he gave us time.”
“He's got the advantage on you. A head start. Even with a fast ship, catching up with him will be a challenge.”
Well, technically, yes, if the Revenge was operating at its full capacity, which it certainly wouldn't be. “That's dealt with.”
For several moments, Burgess didn’t speak, tapping a finger pensively on the table. “I don’t know what use I can be,” he said finally. “Ben knows my ship. He knows me. If he sees me coming, he’ll realise something is up and turn his guns on me.”
It wasn’t a no and definitely sounded like the potential for a yes.
“What if,” Stede said, trying to keep his voice even and calm, “you hypothetically had another ship?”
Burgess’ face split in a wide grin. “You clever shit. You’ve got another ship, haven’t you? One that miserable old fuck didn’t know about?”
Pushing his chair back, Stede rose. “Come with me,” he said. “I have some people I think you should meet.”
_______________________________________________
Control of the ship had been returned to Abshir and Olu couldn’t be happier.
He’d spent half an hour searching the docks, trying to find the Karl among all the ships in the harbour. It was mad. The ship would definitely be there somewhere, Captain had guaranteed it, but whatever magic Abshir’s decorating team had worked, they’d repainted and retrimmed it so perfectly he didn’t spot it until Frenchie shouted down to him from the rail.
“Pretty fucking good, innit?” he’d said as he welcomed Olu aboard. “Didn’t even recognise it when it came by to pick us up.”
“I wouldn’t have spotted it,” he’d admitted. They’d changed the colour, repainting almost the entire thing, made it look darker and sleeker and fancier. “How did it all go?”
“You wouldn't believe the mess they made of Captain,” Frenchie said, shaking his head in awe. “I thought Izzy had properly cut him open! Blood everywhere and his guts falling out and everything!”
“A goat's blood and guts,” Roach said proudly. “Stitched into a skin. Very convincing.”
“And I got to blow the shit out of them,” Wee John said gleefully. “Roach showed me how to make a fireball with flour. It was fucking amazing.”
“And the Captain?”
“Here, Olu!”
Olu spun to see Stede striding towards him, beaming. “Captain! Everything going smooth, I hear?”
“Oh yes.” Stede clapped his hands together in front of him. “I was hoping you’d get here in time. Do you have those papers-”
“As requested,” Olu said, holding up the sheaf. “You know the Providence is in the harbour, yeah?”
Stede took one of the pages from the bundle, examining it with delight. “Oh, I’m aware. The Swede has been keeping an eye on them for me.” He straightened his coat and adjusted the red silk knotted around his throat. “I’ll see you back here when I’m finished. Fang gave me an idea for a new weapon and I need to dig up some schematics–”
“Actually, Captain,” Olu said hastily. “You might want to come over to Abshir’s ship. We’ve got someone who wants to see you.”
“Oh.” Captain blinked. “Oh, all right then. We’ll come there and then back here.”
That had been nearly an hour ago and Olu was pacing circles on the deck. Would be just like the thing for them to get this far and then Stede got himself shot in a pub on the island. Fuck, he should’ve offered to go with him to make sure he didn’t get caught out.
“You can calm down,” Jim said, perched up on the rail, one leg dangling over the side. “He’s coming this way. Got some fancy-pants guy with him.”
Olu hurried over to the side, frowning as Captain led the man straight up onto the ship. He wasn’t dressed up as fancy as Stede, but he looked like he’d been doing well enough for himself to add a lot more colour to his outfits than most of the crew.
“Who’s this?” he asked, as soon as both men were on the deck.
Captain slapped the man on the shoulder as if they were old friends, which got a bewildered look from him. “This is Josiah, an old friend of Edward’s. He’ll be helping us with the latter stages of the plan. Josiah, this is Olu, one of my crew.”
“Josiah,” Olu echoed. “Not Josiah Bur–”
“You motherfucker!”
A blur of black shot across the deck and slammed into – yeah, apparently – Josiah Burgess, abductor of daughters. For someone so tiny, Mary Bonnet managed to get halfway up him, one hand yanking his hair, fingers of the other clawing at Burgess’ face before Jim, Olu and Captain managed to drag them apart, Mary still howling and scratching at him. Jim grabbed at her wrists and – feeling a bit awkward about it – Olu dragged her ankles away from Burgess’s body.
“Mary!” Captain had her around the waist, dragging her back. “Mary, for God’s sake, stop it!”
“He took our baby, Stede!” Mary howled, slapping at his hands. “He took her!”
“And he kept her safe! If he hadn’t taken her, Hornigold would have himself!” He leaned back to drag Mary back from Burgess, both of them panting with the effort. “Mary, please! Just give him a moment, would you?”
Breathing hard, she sagged in his grip. “Fine,” she snapped. “You can let go now.”
“And you won’t attack him again?”
“I didn’t say that.” She scowled, but Captain loosened his grip, setting her back down on the deck. She swung around to glare at him then blinked and blinked again. “ Stede ?”
Captain gave her a small, sheepish grin. “I... er... I’m trying a beard. For the vibe.”
She stepped back, staring at him, looking him up and down. “You. It. Huh.” She tugged the lapels of his coat, then patted them. “You look well.”
“Tired,” he corrected. “I look bloody tired.” He glanced beyond her. “Josiah, you clearly met my wife.”
Burgess was gingerly dabbing the scratches on his cheek with a handkerchief. “I’m afraid so,” he said and offered Mary a small nod. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about all this.”
“A bit late for that now,” Mary snapped back sharply. She spun back to Captain. “Where’s Alma? You said he kept her safe. Where is she now?”
“Hornigold,” Burgess said and Olu was close enough to see Captain’s mouth tighten in a thin line. “He took her.”
“Yes, thank you, Josiah,” Captain said, his voice clipped. He caught Mary’s hands. “Don’t worry. She’s not alone.” He leaned in a little closer to her. “Ed is there.”
“Ed?” She stared up at him. “ Your Ed? You found him.”
Captain’s face went all silly and soft. “Yeah.”
“And he’s there? Where she is now?”
He nodded, looking both proud and worried all at the same time. “He wouldn’t let me go. Said it would be better if he went. Knew what he was dealing with.”
“But we’re going to get her back, aren’t we?”
He nodded and looked over at Burgess. “And Josiah’s going to help.”
Mary spun around, looking as doubtful as Olu was feeling. “Why the fuck would you help us now?”
“Because,” Captain said, sounding as smug as a cat with the cream, “he likes Alma.”
For someone who looked like a perfect corsair, Burgess flushed like a little girl. “Don’t make a fucking thing of it,” he grumbled, shoving his kerchief back in his pocket. “She’s a good kid. Anyone who bites the fuck out of Israel Hands gets my approval.”
Jim snorted. “She bit Izzy?”
“Oh yeah,” Burgess grinned crookedly. “Hard enough to draw blood. And confused the fuck out of him and Hornigold by asking them how they were planning to kill you and complaining that they weren’t specific enough.”
Captain gave a great hoot of laughter. “She didn’t!”
Mary smacked him on the chest. “This is all because of you playing pirates with her,” she complained, but she looked relieved too. “She is all right, though? She’s not hurt.”
Burgess hesitated. “She’s locked up tight,” he said. “As long as she keeps her head down and keeps quiet, she’ll be fine.”
“She’s not alone there,” Stede added, squeezing Mary’s shoulders. “I promise. We’ll get her back.”
“As long as we get to them before the Navy does,” Olu said.
“Ah. Yes.” Captain grimaced. “The Navy. They’re a couple of days behind you, aren’t they?”
“Oh.” Mary’s hands flew to her mouth. “Shit. No.” She caught Captain’s wrist. “Which way did Hornigold go? There’s a Navy ship out hunting in the east.”
“Another one?” Captain exclaimed. “Oh for God’s sake.”
“No, no! Not another one!” Olu hastily put in. “One of them came after us to try and help Mary. She told them where Blackbeard had been sighted so they went off to track him.”
Captain stared at him, then at Mary, then back. “And they're out hunting in the east now? On your behalf?” he said, getting that look in his eyes, a slow smile spreading across his face. “You didn’t happen to show them the Wanted notice, did you?”
Mary matched Captain’s grin with one of her own and for a minute, Olu could see the two lunatics who cheerfully faked the death of Stede Bonnet. “Of course we did. The captain was very sympathetic when I told him how scared I was.”
“Well...” Captain's eyes were alight. “I think I’m going to need a full debrief. We’re going to need to make some adjustments to the plan.”
____________________________________
Outside of the wardrobe doors, everything was quiet.
There had been so much noise, lots of shouting, and Alma had kept quiet, curled up in the dark in the corner of the wardrobe. For most of the day, the only light came in at the top and the bottom of the doors, little stripes of it.
At least it was cosy. The walls had squashy cloth parts and there were some clothes hanging up on poles, not as nice as the clothes from home, but she pulled some of them down to sit on like cushions. One of them even smelled like the soap dad used to use and she wrapped it around her like a blanket.
When the stripes of light started to go more orange and red, the doors had opened again and a big old man with a big fluffy white beard came in with a bowl of food and a lantern. He set them both down just a bit in front of her and looked around the wardrobe, frowning.
“D’you need somewhere to go, miss?” he asked, voice much softer than he looked.
“Go?”
He leaned down a bit closer. “If you need to piss,” he said. “Do you have somewhere to go?”
Alma shook her head, hugging her knees.
The big man made a grumpy sound and shouted out the door. He waited there for a reply and looked down at Alma. “You should eat something,” he said, big voice all quiet. “Not going to do you any good if you don’t eat.”
She glared at him. “Don’t want to.”
“That’s fair.” He turned as another man came running up and handed him a bucket. He leaned back into the wardrobe and tucked it in the corner far away from her nest of clothes. “Here. For your... if you need it.”
He hadn’t been told to do that by the arsehole. He’d just done it because she needed it.
“Thank you,” she mumbled.
He gave her a little smile and shut the door, leaving her with the lantern and the bowl of food. As soon as she heard the clatter of the chains around the door handles again, she scrambled across the floor to the bowl of food. It didn’t matter that there wasn’t even a fork, her belly was so empty that she dug into it all with her fingers, lumps of meat and sauce sticky and hot all over her hands.
When she was done, she sucked her fingers clean and licked the inside of the bowl for every drop. Just because they brought her food once didn’t mean they were going to again. She frowned at the empty bowl, wondering if maybe she should have kept some. But it probably would have gone lumpy and bad when it was cold.
She heard the arsehole stamping about outside the door and scrambled back to her little nest, watching the door in case he came in. But he didn’t. The chains didn’t rattle and his clumping boots got further and further away and then a door slammed.
Alma sighed, curling in against the wall, pulling her dad’s shirt around her again. It wasn’t so scary now with the lantern making the room warm and yellow. She took her orange out of her pocket again, turning it over and over.
Mr. Hands, the funny shouty man, had put it in her pocket. She didn’t know it then and she’d bitten him for grabbing at her, but afterwards, she’d felt it bumping against her leg and realised that Mr. Hands had come to bring it back to her. He couldn’t tell her a message, not with so many people around, but he'd told her his secret: he was there because her dad wanted him to be there.
Yeah, he said he wanted to kill her dad, but she didn’t believe him after that, not when he brought her orange back.
She rubbed her thumb along the middle bit, where the colours changed, tracing the lines. Round and round, following the shape, turning it in her hand. Didn’t know how many times she did it when something rustled and made her look up.
A little piece of paper slid under the door and she heard a quiet tap-tap-tap like someone lightly rapping with a bit of wood.
Alma put down her orange and crawled across the floor to the piece of paper. It had some writing on it and she picked it up, turning it towards the lantern to try and read it. It was a bit squiggly and grown-up but very tidy.
Don’t worry. You have friends in the ship. We’ll get you out soon.
It had a big love heart drawn beside it and Alma hugged it up to her chest. Dad had sent Mr. Hands and now he had sent other people as well to try and keep her safe. Even if Captain Jo was gone, dad hadn’t left her on her own with the arsehole.
______________________________________________
Buttons surveyed the ship solemnly. She was bigger than the Karl and the Revenge, but not too much bigger.
“What do you think, Mr. Buttons?” Captain asked. “Can you handle her?”
“Aye, she’ll do.” He peered at the fancy man standing beside the captain. “Is she a soft touch or a hard yin? Any wee tricks I should know to keep her smooth?”
The man rubbed his wee pointy beard, frowning. “Keep an eye on the top gallant on the main,” he said. “We’ve been needing to get some repairs done but it’s been holding true for now. The rudder needs a light touch, but you’ll find that quick enough.” He paced back over to the rail in front of the helm, staring out over his ship. “We’ve had some trouble with the pulleys on the fore as well, but that’s easily enough handled, if you can get someone up to oil them.”
A thorough lad, Buttons thought with approval, one who paid attention to the wee details that someone else might miss and knew his ship well. He patted the wheel and gave it an experimental pull, feeling the weight of it against his hand.
“She’s a fine ship,” Captain said. “Thank you for agreeing to let us borrow her.”
“Not like I’m not fucked if I try to take her anywhere.”
Captain put his head to the side like a bird. “How so?”
The new captain lad braced his hands on the rail. “Hornigold made sure I was the one doing his dirty work for him. Any shit that was done, my ship’s the one that’ll be tied to it, not him.”
Captain chuckled. “Is that all?” He pointed out over the harbour to the Karl, all freshly-painted and shiny new in the evening light. “The Carlos hasn’t always been as she is now. Ab– the Prince has a team of people who are damned good at repairs and redecorating.”
The new captain raised an eyebrow. “That so?”
“I’m sure we can come to some kind of arrangement with him after all of this is over with.” He glanced down at the deck, where a few of the lads from the Revenge were having a poke around. “I’ll just go and check who plans on going where, before we get underway.”
The new captain stayed by the rail, watching him, and Buttons came up behind him, peering over his shoulder.
“If ye think about stabbin’ him in the back,” he warned, making the new lad jump and swear and damn near shite himself, “it’ll no end well for ye.”
“I wasn’t going to!” New captain said, moving a few steps away. “Fuck, man, don’t sneak up on people like that.”
Buttons wrinkled his nose. “It’s no sneaking when ye just walk up behind someone and they’re no paying attention.”
New captain stared at him, then laughed and nodded. “Fuck, yeah, that’s on me.” He ran his hand along the rail again, like a man might pet his sweetheart’s hand. “You’ll bring the old girl back to me, right? In one piece?”
“I’ve no sunk a ship yet,” Buttons said solemnly. “Run aground once or twice, aye, but never sunk.”
New captain rumpled up his face like he was thinking it over. “Eh. That’s the best I can ask for now.” He held out a hand to Buttons. “Look after the old girl for me, Mr. Buttons.”
Buttons grinned, squeezing his big square hand. “Aye, captain.”
_______________________________________________
The captain’s cabin on the Providence was much smaller and plainer than either of the other ships that Mary had been on. It had a table and some shelves with a small bed in an alcove on one wall but it didn’t look nearly enough for the man who lived and worked in it.
The man who had kidnapped her daughter and kept her in here.
Wrapping her arms around her middle, Mary turned on the spot. Alma had been here, not even a dozen hours ago. She’d been in this room. She’d sat on that bed. And now, she was out there somewhere with a man who was an absolute bastard by the standard of every pirate Mary had ever met.
A scrap of paper on the floor caught her eye and she stooped to pick it up, a childish sketch of Josiah Burgess, and it made her gasp, like a knife to the chest. Sitting down on the bed, Mary pressed her eyes shut, trying very hard not to start crying again.
They were so close . They’d almost got to her, but she was gone again and now they were chasing again and back they went, onto the fucking ocean all over again, into the night and into the dark.
The creak of the door made her straighten up and hastily swipe at her cheeks to make sure they were clear. Stede raised his hand in a tentative wave from the doorway, the first time they had been alone without a flock of crew and strangers around them since she had reached Port Royal.
“May I join you?”
Sniffing hard, she shuffled sideways on the small bed to make room for him.
“Is that–” He peered down at the picture as he neared.
“Alma's,” she replied, voice cracking. “She drew it. Here.”
Stede sat down beside her, their legs knocking together as they had all those months ago, sitting at the end of their bed, talking as they had never talked before. Only this was different. Now was different. He curled his hands over his knees, squeezing until his knuckles went white.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice cracking up. “I didn’t mean for any of you to get dragged into this.”
Mary leaned into his side. “I know,” she said, her own voice just as shaky. “But it’s not just you.”
“It is–”
“No.” She covered one of his hands with hers. “No. I asked to meet Jackie. I wanted to know what a pirate was like. What she was like. What your world was like.” She looked at him, vision getting blurry with tears again. “She said Alma gave her a letter to give to you.”
Stede’s face creased up in that sad smile she’d only seen once or twice before. “Yeah. She did.” He turned his hand, crooking his fingers around hers. “She told me she hoped I found my Doug.”
Mary was torn between laughing and sobbing. “She did?”
“You can’t imagine how flustered Ed got about that.” Some of the tense lines smoothed out on his face, replaced with something soft and happy and something she had never seen in so many years of marriage to him. “He had quite the panic when he realised he would be something like a step-father, even though I told him he had no obligations to fulfil. That we would– that it was only in theory.”
And now, Mary realised, Ed was the one out there, in that ship where their daughter was a prisoner.
“You said he was on this Hornigold’s ship,” she said quietly. “How?”
“Ah.” The tension returned, a grimace crossing his face.
“Stede?”
He stared down at their joined hands. “He was– we arranged– he chose to be captured.” He ran his thumb along the back of Mary’s hand. “He thought he would be a good distraction. A bigger and more dangerous prisoner. So Hornigold wouldn’t pay attention to Alma.”
Mary’s stomach dropped. This man – this pirate – who had never even met her child had put himself in danger to try and keep Alma safe. “He’ll be all right too, won’t he?”
Stede nodded, but his lips trembled and she clung to his hand tighter.
“He went there for you, didn’t he?”
“I told him I could go,” Stede said quietly, “but he said it was better if it was him. He knew Hornigold. He said...” He paused, breathing deeply, shakily. “He said that he’s had beatings from him before. He’ll be able to manage them again.”
“Oh God!” Mary gasped out. “That’s lunatic!”
To her astonishment, that got an unsteady but clear laugh out of Stede. “It’s our vibe,” he said. “Being absolute lunatics.” He finally looked at her, familiar but unfamiliar, his face more tanned, the bones sharper under skin, the beard, that rakish red silk tied around his throat. “We got married.”
“I– you– what? Married? You can do that?”
He smiled shyly and showed her his left hand and an intricate golden ring that adorned his ring finger. It looked like a delicate coil of rope, twisted into a knot. “Can or can’t, we did it anyway.” He tilted it, letting the lamplight catch it. “Ed arranged it all. I proposed to him, but he was the one that brought everything together.” He rubbed his thumb along the ring. “The rings. A feast with a cake. One of the crew to sing. His First Mate to do the ceremony. It was perfect.”
“It sounds like it,” she murmured, drinking in the adoration all over his face. “I can’t wait to meet him.”
Stede beamed at her. “He’s so lovely. You’ll adore him. And Alma...” For a moment his expression clouded, but he shook himself. “They’re both going to be fine and she’ll have such a story to tell about her heroic rescue from the villainous Hornigold.”
With Stede’s... husband? Were they both husband when there were two men? Probably. Maybe. Whatever they called it, the man Stede loved. And technically Alma’s stepfather. If he... if there were beatings, if he was able to survive them. If they were able to catch up and rescue them. If, if, if.
Mary leaned her shoulder into Stede’s.
“How do you stand it?” she asked quietly. “The not knowing?”
He looked at her, eyes shiny and wet. “Honestly? I don’t.” He laughed shakily. “Ed’s been practically pinning me down at night so I can get some sleep. Or making me take baths. Or sitting on me. I’m just... at a bit of a loss without him.”
She tightened her grip on his hand. “Me too. I mean, not with Ed. With Doug.”
He tilted his head to rest his cheek against her hair. “I know I’m not him, but I’m here.”
She closed her other hand around his too. "And me too. For you.”
His fingers pressed against hers. “Thank you,” he whispered.