Port of Errors (18 page)

When Royal, Brent and Don Reina’s men were safely aboard, Corazón del Mar set sail for North Cove, an isolated bay on the north side of Port Lorne. Having made plans to meet at North Cove if things were to go amiss, they hoped to meet up with Tweed and Mr. Hall in the coming days, if they were still alive. North Cove, by distance of location and seclusion was thought to be the best place to reconvene.

Black-Hearted turned to finish Mr. Hall. But to his dismay both he and Tweed were gone.

Stephen, still unable to escape the uncompromising grasp of the blanket, cried out, “Will somebody please help me?”

Tired of the whining, Gunner finally had enough and took it upon himself to free Stephen. Eric helped Black-Hearted to his feet and then assisted him to the longboat, followed by the rest of his men. With only one thing on Black-Hearted’s mind, the Rogue weighed anchor and departed from Port of Errors. Black-Hearted was determined to get Isabel back and destroy Captain Stirvin. However, with Isabel aboard the Crimson Reef there would be no chance of an assault on Captain Stirvin, though Black-Hearted had sworn his revenge.

Roger’s Jolly, under Captain Garrison’s command, followed close behind. Bones took temporary command aboard the Weeping Lady at the rear of this fledgling fleet.

Unwilling to rest, Black-Hearted and Scurvy strategized aboard the Rogue, how best to prepare themselves for battle if Scurvy failed in his forthcoming mission; but even more importantly –
if he didn’t
.

Chapter XI

Admiral Flynn had finally arrived at the Queen’s estate. They spoke in private about the need for diplomatic affairs, concerning Spain, to settle to a peaceful resolve. But the odds of war loomed heavy, as reconciliation hung by a thread.

“There is a good possibility that you will be entering hostile territory,” declared Queen Anne. “But we cannot afford to send an entire fleet into Spanish waters if we are to manage some peaceful accord. We cannot risk an insinuation of aggression. Spain must make the first move and once it has come to light that we did not attack la Real, our allies must side with us in our retaliation.”

“I will do whatever Your Majesty desires,” replied the admiral. “I will leave for Spain at once. What more would you have me do?”

“I desire for you to bring this pirate with the black heart, who has done so much damage, to his knees. Bring the truth to light before it is too late.”

“If I am repelled by Spain, my first order of business upon my return will be Black-Hearted and his drift of swine. I will take him alive, I can promise you that. If he does not confess his fraud before the masses, the church will force his confession before the world, proving England blameless. And then under pain of death his sinful corpse will be purified and your bitter vengeance made sweet.”

Admiral Flynn soon departed, making his way back to port. After loading up the supplies, the Sentry set her sights for Spain. Admiral Flynn approached the Spanish waters with caution, as an uneasy feeling grew within his breast. The closer he advanced, the greater the anxiety. But, it was the Queen’s command that he speak with King Phillip, or prove Spain the aggressor. However, it mattered not that England was innocent of the attack upon la Real. The War of the Spanish Succession was about to ignite.

As Admiral Flynn gazed across the open sea, a large and mighty brigantine appeared in the distance dressed with forty-five cannons and over two hundred sailors. She appeared to be approaching at an aggressive pace. Admiral Flynn, knowing the appearance of battle, prepared his men for the worst.

As the Brigantine neared the Sentry, not a word was spoken. Without so much as a warning shot, the Sentry took a direct blast at her bow, wounding several men and provoking a merciless battle. Spain was the aggressor as Queen Anne had desired. Upon the second strike, Admiral Flynn was the first person hit and propelled ten feet back, ripping his right leg at the knee and shattering his tibia in several places.

Kenneth Lunt, Second Mate under Admiral Flynn, saw the entire incident. It was apparent that the ensuing pain had yet to affect Admiral Flynn, when, unable to stand, he continued to give the orders. Bombarded by spontaneous blasts to the Sentry’s starboard hull, several men fired their pistols into the air, waving their swords in anticipation of hand-to-hand combat.

Bottles of pitch capped in flame were also used on both sides, many of which ended up in the sea. However, several of those that did hit their mark forced many crewmembers from the fight to help the young powder monkeys put out the flames.

Kenneth was young but had a large physique. When he arrived at Admiral Flynn’s side, he wished to carry him to safety. But Admiral Flynn instead ordered him to fight. “Attempting to save my life is of no use to me or my men.”

Fearing for the worst, Kenneth knew his Captain would die if he didn’t take some sort of action immediately. He sprang to his feet, turned to face the battle and dashed forward, bellowing forth a burning cry, ripping a pistol from its holster. He spied out the enemy captain partially hidden behind the main mast shouting orders to his men. In an unpredictable and heart-pounding motion, Kenneth darted for the front end of the starboard side of the ship, where the heaviest gunfire was being sustained. He took a daring leap into the open, atop the gunwale. Taking quick aim, he fired his one round. The fifty caliber steel ball screeched through the barrel, zipping by a few Spanish sailors and splintering the mainmast. The bullet finally came to rest as it sank within the skull of the unsuspecting commander, snapping his head backward, instantaneously knocking him onto his back in a large puddle. The water quickly turned a deep shade of red, as he lay there in his demise.

Kenneth jumped for joy in complete surprise, until a stray bullet ripped through the backside of his shoulder, forcing him backward in a half twisted flip to the deck where he smacked his face on the butt of the cannon just behind him, leaving him unconsciously sprawled out on the floor.

The Spanish crew attempted to continue in the conflict but instead found themselves in utter chaos having relied too heavily on the leadership of their captain. The second in command turned the ship about and retreated back toward Spain.

Admiral Flynn was rushed to his quarters, where his surgeon Dr. Andrew Rees awaited. A few officers shoved everything off the desk and laid him down. Dr. Rees extended a bottle of rum to Admiral Flynn. “Drink this for the pain.”

“I am sorry, Captain, but there is no other choice,” sympathized Dr. Rees. “The bone has been completely shattered. If I don’t amputate, the infection will surely kill you. Your leg is no good. Please, Captain, drink the rum. If I don’t begin right away you will bleed to death!”

“No!” petitioned Admiral Flynn, refusing to believe. “There must be another way! Please!” Admiral Flynn sat up nauseously, attempting to force his way off the table.

Dr. Rees ordered the officers in the room, “Hold the captain down!” As they did so, Dr. Rees extended the bottle of rum once more. “Forgive me, Captain, but you must drink the rum. Drink it or I’ll be forced to take your leg without anesthetic. Either way, I am going to take your leg.”

As Dr. Rees reached for his tools, Admiral Flynn commanded redundantly, “I order you to stop! I order you!” As the officers began to submit to their captain’s demands, Dr. Rees continued, “I said hold him down!” Knowing Dr. Rees was right they recommitted themselves to the task and took a firmer hold.

Crying with an increase of panic, Admiral Flynn hollered, “You are fired! You are all fired!”

“Please, Captain, you must, for your own good, go through with this,” insisted Kenneth.

Dr. Rees tied a rag as tightly as he could around Admiral Flynn’s upper thigh as the admiral turned back with a transparent glaze and choked down the rum.

“Now we can begin,” said Dr. Rees. As he pulled out a thick piece of leather from his bag and placed it between Admiral Flynn’s teeth. Admiral Flynn bit down, breathing in and out through his nostrils with quick forceful spurts. As the officers continued to hold him down, Dr. Rees took an amputation knife saw from his bag and placed its sharp edge approximately four inches above the knee. With one quick pull on the handle, he was nearly an inch into the meat of the leg. Admiral Flynn let out a horrific cry, gnashing his teeth deep into the leather. Dr. Rees continued until he reached the bone. Once there, he pulled from his bag, a large amputation saw and applied a little more pressure while pulling back on the saw, shattering the exterior of the bone. Admiral Flynn tensed up, tightly gripping the men who were holding him at the shoulders, slightly puncturing their skin with his fingernails. Within five minutes he splintered through the rest of it, severing nerves, arteries and tendons. As soon as Dr. Rees broke entirely through the bone there were still several inches of flesh and muscle to saw through. Grunting in exhaustive pain, minutes seemed like an eternity. Finally, Dr. Rees was through. Though the very worst was over, the surgery was not yet complete. Dr. Rees took his surgical pliers and began to dig into the open fat and muscle, pulling out fragments of bone, splintered throughout and deep within the wound. Once void of bone fragments, Dr. Rees cauterized the end of what was left of Admiral Flynn’s leg with a searing-hot iron. Letting out a terrific scream as his body quickly tensed up, the pain and the smell of his burning flesh was too much for Admiral Flynn, who promptly passed out. Clean bandages were then quickly set in place.

In the days following the amputation, Captain Stirvin received word of the incident through a string of communications, originating from both sides, and he readied his crew for action. However, with the absence of First Mate Tweed and Second Mate Hall, Captain Stirvin was in need of new leadership. Having followed Captain Stirvin’s career for the past two years, Kenneth Lunt had, a few months previous, requested a transfer to the Crimson Reef, hoping for some future opportunity to serve under him. With Admiral Flynn’s ready commendation, the transfer was offered and accepted with a grateful heart.

Captain Stirvin didn’t expect to see such a young lad as Kenneth was, being twenty-one years of age. Captain Stirvin was, at first, weary, knowing the men on his crew were extremely experienced and may not give him the kind of respect that was needed in such a position of authority. But Kenneth was full of ambition and could out-do most any crewmember. Although Captain Stirvin had never worked with such a young first mate, he trusted in Admiral Flynn’s judgment and therefore felt very confident in his abilities.

Garland Davis, another young and ambitious sailor was promoted to Second Mate. He was an exceptional sailor and believed strongly in obedience. Garland was short and stout, but held his ground well, unless confronted alone. He was afraid of nothing but death itself.

Awaiting Kenneth’s return was a vibrant young Spanish woman named Marisa Delatori. Marisa was a beautiful young woman who lived with her widowed mother. Having been poor most her life, Marisa had high hopes for a bright future with Kenneth. They had been awaiting a promotion for Kenneth to announce their plans to marry; and though his promotion had been attained, marriage would have to wait due to the start of the War of the Spanish Succession, which was now underway.

War between their two countries was damning to his relationship, since communication between an officer privy to confidential intelligence and the enemy, however innocent, was strictly forbidden. Traveling to Spain to see Marisa would be considered an act treasonous against the crown. With communication now limited to secrecy, Marisa’s mother, who continued to attempt to marry her off to some rich suitor, had grown distressfully wary of any possible union.

During frequent visits to Port Lorne when he was younger, Kenneth became acquainted with Marisa, who lived there for a short time before her father died. They exchanged letters until the War of the League of Augsburg, when Kenneth joined the Royal Navy. When the war came to a close, Kenneth and Marisa began to correspond once again. But now, knowing of the love they truly reciprocated, no war was going to keep them from sharing that love through some sort of correspondence.

Marisa’s mother was aware of Kenneth, but thought it was time for her to be more realistic. “You know that I want you to be happy, but this charade cannot go on forever. You must choose a suitor. When your father died he did not leave us with enough to support ourselves forever. Soon we’ll have to sell everything. It is up to you to make certain we will have a future. A good and wealthy suitor will not wait for a young and beautiful woman to become old, like me.”

“I know, but I have already made my choice.”

Frustrated with Marisa, her mother threw up her arms. “Letters are letters. He cannot support us with letters!”

Marisa looked down and covered her face with both hands. “Mama, I cannot marry just another. I will not be unhappy for the rest of my life.”

“I know child, but if your father were here you would have to marry the man of his choosing. You should be happy that I have given you a choice at all.”

“Mama, I am happy. But I’ve made my choice. Please understand. I just need a little more time. I love him.”

Before long the Crimson Reef was on its way to seize the Rogue and put an end to Black-Hearted. Captain Stirvin still hadn’t heard from Scurvy and so insistent had the Queen been to capture Black-Hearted, he made it a priority over the war to do so.

With the ship steadied at sea, there was finally time for Kenneth to tour it. Bryan Black, the Crimson Reef’s master gunner, took Kenneth on a tour of the ship to acquaint him with the crew. Standing above the quarterdeck, Kenneth could hear what sounded like a woman weeping. “Is there a woman aboard this vessel?” Kenneth listened and was again witness to her cry. “There is a woman aboard this ship. Where is she?”