Black Sam - Prince of Pirates

Twenty Six - RECLAMATION

 Twenty-Six -RECLAMATION

 November 1716

 With the help of Edward Teach and La Buse, Sam and his crew were able to find Nigel in quick time. He headed to Bath, exactly where they had thought he would be, and they were gaining on him fast. Sam’s borrowed ship was smaller, and outgunned three to one, but it was much faster, and far more maneuverable than Nigel’s vessel. Edward was confident in the plan he had introduced to Sam and his men. Sam had his reservations, but liked Edwards’ passion.

 “Are you sure about this?” Sam asked watching Edward rub black wheel grease around his eyes.

 Edward placed his big black hat over his disheveled hair, which partly covered his face, but allowed his bright blue eyes to penetrate. He took a length of fuse and stuffed it between his hat and head, then bent the end so it curved upward and away from his hair and beard.

 “Are you going to light those?” Sam asked, his voice dripping with skepticism.

 Edward stopped and looked at Sam with an expression fitting for the devil. Sam raised his hands and walked up the stairs to the main deck. “We’ll be waiting up here for you.”

 On the top deck, Sam and Paulgrave sat discussing the attack plan with La Buse. Sam thought it interesting that Edward’s men had complete trust in his ability to stage an attack, specifically one where the odds were stacked so far against him.

 “So tell me,” Sam said to La Buse. “Does Edward do this before every battle?”

 La Buse smiled, and turned to Sam. “His methods may seem peculiar to you now, but soon you will understand.”

 “Seems a bit dramatic,” Paulgrave said.

 “He wages psychological warfare,” La Buse said motioning to something behind them. Sam turned to see a tall, dark figure walking toward them. Smoke hovered around his head, as the lit fuses illuminated his eerie face. Edward’s bright blue eyes became sharp by the black surrounding them. They seemed to pierce into Sam’s soul, as Edward continued toward him. Sam’s heart sank, but he finally understood what La Buse meant by psychological warfare.

 Edward handed a black flag to Sam. “Raise it now.” He turned to La Buse. “Set us on his port side.”

 La Buse stood and straightened his coat. “Luck be with you gentlemen,” he said with a nod, then walked back to the Helm and took control. The other men went into action adjusting the sails. Sam opened up the black flag, and fastened it to a rope on the flag mast. He raised it up and stood back to have a look. A white skeleton with horns on his skull held an hourglass in one hand, and a spear in the other. The spear aimed at a red heart, which oozed three drops of blood. The message was clear.

 “He believes it, you know,” another of Edward’s men said.

 Sam turned to the man with a quizzical look. “Surrender or die?”

 The man shook his head. “That he is in league with the devil.”

 Sam watched Edward strap each end of a long ribbon around a pistol, and then slung them over his neck so the guns hung at his front, just above the waist. Edward then pulled his sword out of its scabbard, and turned to Sam and Paulgrave who looked on in awe at his dark, intimidating appearance.

 “Are you coming?” Edward huffed, his breath making the smoke around him swirl.

 Sam and Paulgrave moved behind Edward, who now seemed even taller than before. As they approached, Nigel fired a salvo. The ball landed in the water ten yards off the port side. Edward stood at the bow on the starboard side, his dark, menacing image clearly visible to his enemies. The men aboard Nigel’s ship scurried about their deck, apparently in panic over the evil that had come to them. Nigel appeared to be walking about the deck, yelling out orders, which only seemed to make matters worse. The closer Teach got to Nigel and his crew, the more frightened they became, until their top deck was in utter chaos.