“If you don’t have the stomach for disciplining the crew, perhaps I should have Peter replace you as first mate?” Murrell said. His thin lips curled in a sneer.
Peter weighed the whip in his hands and gave Teach an impassive stare. Teach suspected he enjoyed the whippings as much as Murrell did. In truth, Teach was not supposed to be second in command, but back in Bristol it had been a simple task to forge his father’s signature and falsify Teach’s papers. A significant bribe had helped the real first mate decide to stay behind, and Teach had assumed his responsibilities on board the Deliverance.
At times, Teach had regretted his decision. He detested Murrell, but Teach had been desperate to be on the first ship leaving Bristol to go in search of Anne. His father’s vessel had been his only option, with Nassau as its first port in the West Indies. Since the Providence was also scheduled to stop in Nassau, Teach had had no other choice.
Peter raised his arm once more, ready to deliver another blow to the small figure bound to the mainmast. He was one of the few men loyal to the captain. With his pale blue eyes and equally pale skin, Peter reminded Teach of a fish.
Teach stepped forward, his pulse pounding in his ears, but Captain Murrell caught Teach by the arm, halting him.
Teach glared down at the offending appendage before meeting the captain’s eyes. “Do not touch me again,” he said, his quiet voice filled with malice.
Murrell slowly removed his hand, his nostrils flaring. “Do not interfere with my orders again.”
The man grasping the whip looked askance between the two, and the crew seemed to be holding a collective breath, waiting to see who would win the confrontation. It had been like this for weeks, the will of the captain at odds with the will of the first mate. The few passengers who’d booked passage on the great ship had learned to retreat to their cabins when Murrell decided to discipline his men.
A soft whimper escaped from Matthew, and Teach clenched his fists at his sides. Murrell caught the slight movement, and a wicked gleam entered his eyes.
“Do you have something you’d like to say?” Murrell asked.
“No, sir,” Teach said, fearing more punishment for the young boy.
After an interminable pause, the captain gave a negligent flick of his wrist. “Cut him loose. I have no wish to have his death on my hands.”
Teach muttered an oath, sliding his knife from the scabbard in his boot, before moving forward to free the boy.
Matthew’s breathing was ragged, his eyes narrowed from pain and fear, as Teach knelt at his side, slicing through his bonds.
“Take him to my cabin,” Teach murmured to the two sailors who also came forward to help. “I’ll be there shortly to see how he fares.”
“Aye, sir.”
Grabbing a bucket, Teach filled it with seawater from a nearby barrel and splashed the deck where Matthew had knelt. The crew, including Murrell himself, watched silently as Teach filled bucket after bucket, dousing the spot until the blood was gone. Teach wished he could make Matthew’s pain disappear just as easily, but he knew from experience that it would take several days for the welts on the boy’s back to heal.
There was a much larger stain still visible on the deck, one Teach hadn’t been able to wash away. Beneath the baking sun, it had darkened to black, but it, too, had started out a bright crimson.
“Would you rather I had him keelhauled?” the captain asked.
Teach replaced the bucket before turning. “I don’t think dragging Matthew beneath the ship is necessary. Since he stole from me, I’d rather you let me determine the punishment, sir,” he said, wiping the sweat from his brow. Although it was November, the weather was warm, indicating their proximity to the West Indies. Teach could not wait to get off the ship and be rid of Murrell once and for all.
“Yes, well, I’ve taken control of the chest and had it locked in my cabin.”
Teach froze. “That’s not necessary, Captain.”
“The name on the inside of the chest reads Anne Barrett. How did you come by it?”
Hearing Anne’s name spoken by Captain Murrell caused Teach’s stomach to clench and his heart to contract painfully. Robert Murrell was one of the most repulsive men he had ever had the misfortune to meet, and he sincerely hoped Anne’s passage to the West Indies had been easier than his.
“The chest belongs to my betrothed,” Teach said tightly.
Murrell’s eyes widened. “Waiting for you back in England, is she?”
Unwilling to let the captain know the truth, Teach gave a short nod. Teach would never forget the last time he’d seen Anne in Bristol. He’d asked her to go into town with him, but she’d refused. He’d kissed her, a kiss that still haunted his dreams. By the time he’d returned to his father’s house, she was gone.
Every time Teach thought about her, it drove him mad not knowing how Anne fared. Was she frightened? Did she suffer from seasickness? Did her fellow passengers leave her in peace? It was the uncertainty of her situation that caused Teach the most pain. He would withstand a hundred lashes if only he could be sure that she was safe.
Murrell opened his mouth once more, but a cry from overhead arrested everyone’s attention.
“Sails ho!”
A murmur went up around the deck as sailors lined along the rails. They’d been too preoccupied with Matthew’s whipping to keep a proper lookout.
“I spy three ships, Captain. Two sailing portside, the other to starboard.”
Captain Murrell held out his hand for the spyglass at Teach’s waist. Now that young Matthew was out of harm’s way, Teach slapped it into Murrell’s outstretched palm, wishing he could break it over the captain’s head.
“They’re most likely English or French,” Murrell said, studying the distant ships. “It’s to be expected. This is one of the busiest shipping lanes in the Atlantic.”
“Aye, but we’re still a good distance from Nassau. They could be Spanish,” Teach said. It was no secret that Spain struggled to maintain their stronghold in the Caribbean. The battle for dominance was fierce.
Murrell’s head whipped around. “We’re too far from the Spanish main. They wouldn’t attack us here. They could be Dutch.”
In the end, it didn’t truly matter what flags the two ships flew. Their appearance meant trouble.