Raised By Wolves 3 - Treasure (56 page)

“For seeing in the dark,” Striker said. “When we sailed with Myngs, there was a man I knew from the King’s Navy who did it. And Hastings is from the Navy. When you walk into a dark place after you’ve been in the sun, it takes a long time before you can see anything. The same is true if you’re in the dark and walk out into the light. So men on a man o’ war that have to be on deck and then below for a gun deck or chart room sometimes take to wearing a patch they can move from one eye to the other. That way one eye is good for the dark, and the other for the light.”

“They cannot shoot well at range, but they do well in boarding,”

Gaston said.

I thought on the type of man who would hamper himself at all times in order to be able to quickly adapt from one situation to another. It would take stubbornness and foresight I did not feel I possessed. But then we were talking of the man who had murdered Michaels, possibly for no other reason other than because he could, and had taken great relish in our hanging Burroughs.

“I feel we should kill him, anyway, even if he is not the man that bastard meant,” I said.

“Aye,” Striker agreed with a shrug. “I don’t like him either. Sadly, he’s the only one the man could describe well-enough for us to suspect.”

“What else did he say?” Gaston asked.

“They received their money and instructions from that agent, Washington,” Striker said. “So we paid him a visit.”

Theodore groaned.

Striker snorted. “We didn’t lay a hand on him, though Pete sure as the Devil wanted to. He was a smug bastard. We told him we knew he was in on it, and if any of us were harmed, those that lived knew where to find him.”

“Do you feel he will pray to God that we all live?” I asked.

“Nay,” Striker sighed. “I should have let Pete kill him.”

“And face hanging?” Theodore asked.

“There Be Ways Wherein None Be TheWiser,” Pete said with a derisive snort.

“But not now,” Theodore countered. “Now everyone who would make a decision as to your guilt or innocence knows that we are all embroiled in this feud. And they might not arrest a buccaneer for sodomy, but they will hang one for killing a supposedly honest man and respected citizen. So whether you are seen or not, if that man dies, they will come to us for answers.”

Pete was obviously not pleased with that perspective of the matter.

“Iffn We Kill ’Em All, Can We Hide In France?”

Dupree frowned and began to dutifully translate.

“Nay,” I said to Pete. I looked to the Marquis and switched to French.

“He wishes to know if we could seek sanctuary in France if we kill my father.”

The Marquis shook his head. “I could not protect you. It would be a matter of state for one nobleman to harbor another’s killer. The Emperor could well demand you be surrendered, or he could laugh about the matter. Either way, it would be above our heads and very dangerous.

You could seek sanctuary with the Church, but…” He smiled. “I do not see that suiting you.”

I chuckled sadly and shook my head: I could not see spending my days in a cathedral because I had been forced to rid the world of my father. I was sure that in that situation, some damn self-righteous bastard would work to keep Gaston and me apart – for our eternal salvation, of course.

Dupree was translating the Marquis’ words for Pete.

The Golden One scratched his jaw and grunted.

“That Be WhatIThought.”

“All the men questioned said we women were not to be harmed,”

Sarah said. “You will stay home this year and we will attempt some manner of resolving this. If no damn man on this island will sign that document, then perhaps Will should travel to England and present it in person.”

“Sarah,” I chided, though I well understood her wish. “I have seen such things before. I would not be allowed to reach the House of Lords. If they know I leave here for England…” I shook my head as the enormity of what she suggested settled across my heart and shoulders.

“We do not have an army or the political clout to guarantee my safety.

And though I doubt they would have me murdered on the street, they could well have me arrested on some charge, or even… restrained for my own good under the auspices of my being mad. That is done even to hush sane men. We honestly do not know enough of Father’s allegiances and enemies in the court to know who to approach to thwart him, or to beg for aid.”

“Then we shall discover that information,” Sarah said with a desperate shrillness to her voice. “I am sure the Marquis will assist us. He can surely get mail in and out of England that our father’s men would not know of.”

The Marquis nodded as this was translated.

I looked to the rolled document Theodore had laid on the table.

“That is surely the only way that will ever be seen.” I turned back to her.

“But all that will take time, possibly years.”

“Then we shall wait years,” she said. “Not that you need worry as much: Father will surely rescind his bounty on Gaston, once he knows he is a Marquis’ son.”

There were many surprised faces about the table.

She flushed with embarrassment. “I am sorry.”

Pete was shaking his head.

“Stop that,” Sarah growled at him. “You do that every time I say you should stay. What great battle plan do you have, then?”

He stood. “Gettin’The Chess Board.” He sniffed with hurt: either feigned or real, I could not tell.

Striker awarded his wife a look that said there was much he would not say, and she covered her face with her hands and gave a ragged sob.

Then she pushed herself to her feet and waddled after Pete.

“Pete has a plan?” I asked.

Striker nodded. “He won’t tell us of it, but he’s been thinking on it for days. Sarah is sure she won’t like it. I’m pretty sure she won’t like it.

I’m not sure I will.”

I was curious, and I looked to my matelot and found him curious, too.Pete returned with the chess board balanced on one hand and his other about Sarah. He handed the board to Striker and helped Sarah return to her seat. Then he took the board and set it in the middle of the main table, where the most people could see it. He leaned on the wood and rested on his elbows, so he could reach it from where he stood at the head.

“This Be Us.” He pointed at the chiseled white pieces on his side of the board. “That Be Them.” He pointed at the black. “All’Ere Be Pieces.”

“All right,” Striker said and stood to get a better view from where he was at his matelot’s side. “So Sarah is the queen?”

“Nay,” Pete said with a disappointed sigh. “Sarah Be TheKing. The King Not MoveMuch. ’E Only Moves One Space At ATime.” He demonstrated this with the white king. “TheGame Be LostWhen ’EBe Captured.”

At Dupree’s worried expression, Gaston and I began translating.

After our first awkward mutual utterance, we began to take turns.

Pete picked up the queen and pointed at me. “Will Be TheQueen.

TheQueen Can Move In AnyDirection As Far As SheWants. She Be TheMost DangerousPiece. Will Be The One O’ Us That Can Be A Lord An’APirate.”

He pointed at the Marquis and Theodore. “You Be Castles. YouCan MoveFar. ButOnly One Way.”

“Gaston An Me Be Bishops. We Move A Different Way But We CanMove Just As Far.”

“What am I?” Striker asked.

Pete snorted and tossed him one of the knights. “Ya Be AHorse.

TheOther One Be TheBrethren. YaDon’t Move Straight Or Far.

But Ya Be Dangerous ’Cause The Other Man FergetsHow Ya Move. ’EBe Thinkin’StraightLines. But TheBrethren Be About Crooked People. Men WhoWould Rob The Blind But Na’ TakeMoney Ta Kill Their Own. TheyDon’t UnderstandThat.” He pointed at the black pieces.

Pete looked about the table to see if we understood. I grinned at him with enthusiasm, for I felt hope again.

He nodded at what he had seen in our faces, and shrugged.

“TheRest A’Ya Be Pawns. ButThat Be Good. Pawns Be Important.”

“Now,” he said, and snatched the white knight from Striker. He arranged the black pieces about the board, leaving the white pieces in their starting rows. “They Been Movin’. Fur Maybe AYear. All The While, We Not BeenKnowin’We Been Playin’. We Be WayBehind.

“They Got More Pawns Than We GotPieces. We Know That Be TheEarl.”

He pointed at the black king. “An’That Be The Damn Cousin.” He pointed at the black queen sitting next to the king, in their starting positions behind a short row of pawns. “WeKnow One O’ TheCastles Be ThatBastard Washington. And One O’ TheHorse Be Modyford. We Took APawn Last Night.

We Na’ Know Who The Rest Be.” He waved his hand over the other black pieces.

I looked at the black spread about the board and the white in its neat rows with the pawns in front. “They are already boxing us in.”

“Aye,” Pete crowed triumphantly.

He began to scoot the white pieces around, forming a phalanx of pawns around the queen, a knight, and both bishops, in the middle of the board. He arranged it so each piece could move easily from behind the pawns and potentially strike all the black pieces spread about the board, except for the king and queen. Then he arranged the pawns about our king so that it could move in two directions to escape, and placed the castles and a horse to guard it.

“This Be Us.” He pointed at the white phalanx in the center and then Gaston, Striker, me, and himself. Then he indicated the women, Rucker, and Theodore. “This Be Them That Stay In PortRoyal. Or Go TaFrance.” He moved one of the castles all the way to the white starting line, where it put the black king in check.

The Marquis nodded approvingly as I finished translating.

Pete pointed at the phalanx of white again and began striking out with the pieces there, capturing one black piece after another until only a few pawns, the castles, and the king and queen remained.

“WeNeed Ta Take Their Pieces Off TheBoard. We Gotta Find ’Em First Though. WeGot Ta Flush ’Em Out. WeGot Ta Guard Each Other’sBacks.

LikeBoardin’AShip. When We GetDone. We See Iffn ’E Still Wants Ta Play.

If’EDoes We Go For’Im.”

Sarah pushed her way to her feet again and began to leave the table.

“Sarah?” Striker queried.

“Look at you all, grinning like ghouls,” she said with tears forming in her eyes. “You will leave me here and go roving in the name of gaining a tactical advantage?”

“He does not want you dead,” I said. “You will be safe unless we lose.

Striker is safest amongst the Brethren.”

She shook her head with frustration, her voice becoming shrill again. “Since our damn father has apparently been misguided enough to lay edict that I not be harmed, even though my husband is to be taken from me, Striker is safest at my side.”

“As long as he does not leave this house,” I challenged. “Do you feel he will live well with that? Will you? And it will only be until Father decides his other methods have failed and he must attend to the matter himself. Not one damn man will raise a hand to stop him if he arrives here with a small army of mercenaries on one of the king’s good men of war. Pete is correct. We stand our best chance doing what we do best and killing them first. Meanwhile, you and Theodore and the Marquis can wage a more covert battle to discover who wants our damn father dead or disparaged as much as we do.

“And,” I continued as more aspects of the matter revealed themselves to me. “We do not lose if you are taken. We stand a better chance of rescuing you if we are not here when and if our father arrives.”

“Aye,” Pete said with a feral smile. “We Get CaughtWith Our Pants Down, We Be Dead. TheyTake You While We BeRovin’, We Just RoveIn EnglandNext. WeGet Ya Back.”

Sarah ignored Pete, and glared at me as if she wanted me dead as much as our father, and turned away to the stairs.

“Sarah,” Striker called and looked to Pete and hissed, “You go.

You’re better with her when she’s thus.”

“Naw. I Be The One ThatMade’ErAngry This Time,” Pete whispered back with a rueful shrug.

Striker swore quietly and followed his wife.

Vivian tugged at my sleeve. “So you will go roving and not go to this Negril place with me?” Her concerned gaze was locked on the chess board.

“Nay,” I sighed. “I am sorry, but if this is the plan we follow, we will not go to Negril.”

“But…” She gazed up at me earnestly and bit her lip. “Can we not simply go to France? Without killing anyone?”

Gaston sighed.

“Oui,” the Marquis said with enthusiasm as Dupree finished. “You could avoid all this. You would all be welcome.”

Dupree thankfully translated for those who did not speak French, as I was busy watching my matelot, who had become suffused with guilt. I laid a hand on his shoulder, and he shook his head sadly.

“Naw,” Pete said. “Striker Na’ Leave The Sea, An’IDon’t Speak French.”

“You do not speak English,” Vivian said, and cringed at what she saw in Pete’s eyes.

I laid a hand on her shoulder and looked back to my matelot. He had met his father’s earnest gaze.

Gaston shook his head sadly and stood. “I am sorry, I cannot.” He left us and retreated to the stable.

I looked to the Marquis apologetically and said, “Not yet.”

“I do not wish to…” Theodore sighed. He met my curious gaze.

“There is the other matter. Gaston should not go to France.”

I struggled to remember what he spoke of, and then I did. I looked to the Marquis. “And though we now trust you greatly, he cannot set foot on French soil until the matter of his competence is resolved.”

The Marquis frowned with surprise as if he, too, struggled to remember what I spoke of; and then he shook his head irritably and began to protest.

“What if something befalls you before it can be righted?” I asked.

“There are presumably those who would not wish for you to have an heir.”

He sighed and slumped back in his chair to nod with solemn understanding. “You are correct. I have put him in a sad position should he return to France without me; and there are those who were pleased when my sons died, as it meant I did not have an heir.”

“Please make clearing his name your first order of business upon returning.” I stood to follow my matelot.