The Delirium Passage Read online

  The most imposing structure, an old fort, obviously lay in ruins. The other shelters might not properly be described as buildings, being of any sort of construction possible. These hovels were more lean-to or tent built of beams of tree parts, old ship timbers, or half-burned boards, with palm thatch roofing. The best might be called huts, with a construction called ‘wattle and daub’ in England. None had chimneys, but most had separate cooking shelters close outside. Furthermore, they were scattered all about, with no obvious pattern to their location.

  Numerous carcasses of ships lay on the beach – some burned, some rotting away. The town emanated a terrible smell. To Neville’s nose, human excrement or raw sewage probably accounted for most of it.

  Nassau’s Harbor appeared to Neville as if it could accommodate hundreds of vessels. Periaguas and battered ship’s launches littered the beach. Three pinnaces of typical French construction were at anchor, each giving a sloppy appearance of readiness to leave at any time. However, the color of the water and the location Hornigold chose to anchor his ship (the Ranger, a sloop of 30 guns, as Neville had learned), indicated that most of the bay was too shallow for larger vessels. Royal Navy ships would certainly not be able to sail in close to shore.

  As they came nearer the strand, residents gathered on shore to see what the Famous Benjamin Hornigold had taken this time. They wore atrocious attire… as is to say, much like the men aboard the Adventure. Most wore pantaloons rotted away at the knees and shirts without complete sleeves. Pieces of old rope served as belts. The accuracy of the illustrations he remembered from old books on pirates amazed him. There were a very unusual three amongst them who were dressed as any normal businessman at home in England or Baltimore. Where have they come from, and why?

  While everything seemed as it should be, nothing at all seemed as it should be. Even fishing villages on Jamaica, when he lived there twenty-six years before this date, tended to have some order. Any proper town would never be in this sorry state of repair.

  The pirates first shifted all the booty from their raiding, including all the goods from Neville’s Return, to the beach. Neville’s stomach churned as he helped carry each piece of his father’s wealth to be dumped in rows on the strand. This first step took most of two days. If naught else, these pirates were efficient at manual labor. Once the carrying concluded, the men were released. Shore leave in this port was obviously assumed. Everyone went as they wished as soon as the captain decreed duties complete. A few, probably very trusted souls, remained in the area armed with both cutlasses and muskets, to guard the hoard and the ship.

  Neville found a place not far off the strand, in the shade of a scrubby tree, to continue his observation of the process. He did not see any others who seemed at all interested. Nothing happened for some time, except for a pair of well-dressed men who arrived and wandered slowly through the goods on the beach. They were trailed by a third man who dressed quite differently – wearing a complete set of clothes but without shoes, despite the heat of the sand. He carried a board with paper on it and wrote almost continuously with a long black quill as the three passed through the jumble, pointing and talking. A silver flask hanging, serving as his portable inkwell, hung on his belt.

  They’re leaving, observed Neville, but he suspected the process was not over. These men are surely the buyers of Hornigold’s cache, and they will go home to cipher before returning to make Hornigold an offer. I need to find something to eat, but I’ll return to watch. I might as well follow to see where they go.

  He stood, brushed the sand off his trousers, and wandered casually toward town. He was being watched, he knew, by almost everyone he passed, and for good reason. They didn’t know him, and he wore a full set of clothes like the booty-accounting men. His clothes were not flamboyant like Hornigold’s, either. They were those of a Norfolk businessman; the clothes he found in the master’s cabin of Neville’s Return. Nobody cared enough to follow him, though.

  They passed through a shanty-town of half burned-out buildings of older construction which might be described as lean-tos. Pirates or not, certain trades were necessary – carpenters, blacksmiths, traders of gunpowder, and so on. Beyond the shanty-town he discovered a noisy tavern. The men he followed stopped to say a brief hello to another man at the tavern’s door. The fellow was a tall, thin, wide-shouldered man with an unusually long, thick black beard. His attire – knee-length leather boots, a red silk waistcoat, and a wide-brim hat – gave him a pirate-captain appearance similar to Hornigold’s. After a short talk, he slapped one of the accountants on the back, and they resumed walking. I’ll have to stop back by here for food and drink, and maybe some information.

  The bearded pirate noticed Neville. He stood tall and scrutinized Neville as he passed, but said nothing. Neville looked over his shoulder some hundred paces farther on, to see if he was still being watched. Nobody followed him.

  They proceeded up a small grade at the edge of town, and around a tall hedge of scrub trees. Neville stopped when he saw their destination – a large house, better maintained than anything in town. The grounds were nothing like an English garden but were clear of the typical detritus of town. This must be where all the loot is traded. I must find a way to meet the man in charge. He turned and walked back into town.

  A few men stepped aside when he entered the tavern. The noise level dropped, and all turned to look. He recognized a few of them from the Ranger. Now quite self-conscious, he was surprised when one of the barmaids, a stocky, large-bosomed woman wearing a dirk in a scarlet waistband, called to him, “Over here, doctor. Have a seat.”

  The noise level began to rise again, and Neville took the indicted chair. “What’ll you have, gov’nor?” she asked.

  “Oh,” Neville responded. “I’m sorry, but I just realized I’ve naught in my purse.”

  “Hornigold’s doctor will have credit here, luv. In particular, a pretty man like yerself. Pay me when your ship shares out.” She winked at him.

  “How do you know I’m from the Ranger?” Neville asked.

  “Don’t be daft, luv. Everyone here knows who sails with who, and you can’t get on or off if the captain don’t let you. And there’s a whole lot of waggin’ tongues in here right now, besides. Look at you in your fine clothes, though. Who else in this miserable lot looks to be a doctor? I already heard how you saved that pig Holwin from a fate he deserved.”

  “I see. Is the meat pie good?”

  “Our best.”

  “And a tankard of ale, if you please, ma’am.”

  She gave him a cold stare. “It’s MISS, if ever you want to come in here again.”

  “My sincere apologies, Miss…?”

  She calmed immediately. “Miss Elizabeth,” she said, “Thanks fer askin’. Rest o’ this crowd don’t give a hog’s fart. They just get drunk and do a lot o’ grabbin’.”

  His ale came. The tall black-bearded man who’d watched him pass earlier pulled a stool next to him and sat. “Might I sit with you?” he asked.

  “You’re sat. Not my tavern.”

  “Not most friendly, are you?”

  “Sorry. Might I know your name?”

  “Teach,” said the man. “I sail with Captain Hornigold.”

  Neville looked him in the face, searching for something familiar. “I didn’t see you aboard, though my passage was only two days.”

  “I weren’t there. I’m captain of his old sloop, Adventure. Ten gun and seventy men.”

  “Captain Teach, then? Good to meet you.” He put out his hand, knowing he should befriend any man of power in this den of amoral creatures.

  Teach took his hand. A quick shake. “Good to know a doctor,” he said. “I don’t much go by Teach, though. They calls me by me nickname – Blackbeard… because of this,” he said, stroking his long beard.

  Two thoughts struck Neville at the same time. Good Lord, I’ve just met the infamous Blackbeard; and he’s how I get to meet the “traders’’ – for Doctor supplies.

  “Y
ou’ve heard of me, I can tell,” he said.

  “Yes, I have. You are well known in Norfolk, as is Mister Hornigold. I never expected to meet you under such circumstances… under any circumstances.”

  “Ha, ha, I’m sure you didn’t. But let me give you a few hints if you want to get along here. First, don’t call Hornigold ‘Mister’. It’s ‘Captain’ to you, or he’ll find you a quick way off his ship. Second, there’s a few other pirating captains come and go from here, but they are shams, for my money, except the two of us and a cur named Jennings.

  “I’ve heard of Captain Jennings,” as well.”

  “Don’t admit it to Hornigold. Jennings and him set up this ‘Pirate Republic’, so they called it, here in Nassau just last year as a place to share out all their French booty. But they don’t get along well. Jennings thinks he’s the governor of Nassau, which he’s an utter pillock, ain’t he? Nobody’s governing anything. Nobody since the Bahamian government went futt.

  “I’ll mind my tongue. May I ask you for some information, though?”

  “Depends what,” Blackbeard said. He sat back and put a skeptical look on his face.

  “As you know, I’m conscripted as doctor.”

  “Aye.”

  “I need supplies. You saw me follow those ‘fine gentlemen’ thru town earlier…”

  “Aye.” Blackbeard appeared even more skeptical.

  “They went to a big house a short walk outside town. Who lives there?”

  “Why?”

  “I think whoever lives there buys all this stuff you take off your prize ships.”

  “So?”

  “If I am correct, such a man is a trader. Traders can get me the medical supplies I need. Maybe, if I’m lucky, they keep such things here. Is there a doctor in town?”

  “Pffft,” Blackbeard said. “There’s no doctor here. If there was, some captain would take him. I’d take him myself. I’d take you if you wasn’t Hornigold’s. But yea, Mister…. I ain’t heard your name yet. Who be ye?”

  I can’t give my real name. He might know my father, and he’ll have me up for ransom tomorrow. “Elliot,” he answered. “Neville Elliot. Doctor Neville Elliot.”

  “Not what I heard. Heard you were the master of the last ship Hornigold stopped. No doctor. But I hear you’ve got doctoring skills, so I’ll let it be. I only hope I don’t need you to doctor me.”

  “I’ll drink to that,” Neville said. He held up his tankard.

  Blackbeard paused, but he raised his, and they clanked their cups together. The tavern quieted, and Neville realized they were the center of attention of half the patrons. He had the feeling something important had just happened.

  “Don’t mind them. Simple fools, most. To your question, though, the house is Mister Richard Thompson’s. He’s moved his family somewhere else to get away from the likes of us, but he uses the house when he’s here. You’re lucky he is in, then. He’s a trader, sure, and he might have what you want. Don’t know for sure… I’m more interested in gold, silver and rum, ha, ha.”

  “How do I gain audience?”

  “Oh, listen to the doctor… ‘gain audience’, ha, ha. You look respectable. Go to the house and walk in.” Blackbeard stood, turned to the crowd, announced, “We sail Tuesday next. Pass it ‘round.” and strode away.

  The meat pie arrived. It did, indeed, smell good.

  Interesting meeting, Now what? Go visit Mr. Thompson? No, I don’t think I want to go when those accountants are at work. He began eating.

  “Miss Elizabeth,” he called as she passed, “This pie is good. Thank you. I’ll have another ale, if you please.” She winked again.

  I doubt I need to go watch the harbor yet. I’ve learnt what I needed to know about the trader, and the trading conference probably will not be done until tomorrow. I’ll need somewhere to stay, though. Oh, that’s a silly thought. There’s certainly no hotel, and it doesn’t look like rain. I could probably go back aboard, but in this weather, I’d rather sleep on the beach.

  “Ahoy, doctor,” said a gruff voice coming from a man Neville recognized as Hornigold’s quartermaster from the Ranger. The man sat where Blackbeard had been. He didn’t ask, and he appeared as possibly a bit down in his cups. “I’m Mister William Howard. They calls me Billy,” he said with a slight slur.

  “Good day, Sir,” Neville said. “I thought I’d noticed you aboard. It’s good…”

  “I’m goin’ to give you some advice, I am. I seen you playing all chummy with Teach. Don’t let his blabbering give you no ideas.”

  “I only…”

  “Watch yer back. The strongest man carries the day, here. Every man jack on this stinkin’ island will do only what’s right in his own eyes. There’s only law aboard ship… none here. And when you are aboard, ye might hear some unhappiness about Hornigold’s refusing to attack British ships. We don’t like it. He leaves too much what could be ours. Don’t say nothin’ to him, ye’ hear? Keep yer nose in yer medical book. And watch yer back.”

  “You said that,” Neville said, feeling increasingly annoyed. He’d received some sort of a threat, but its point was unclear.

  Neville returned to the scrubby tree with the unhampered view of the harbor and the spoils pile. It stinks worse here than it did in town – like a toilet. Oh, it is a toilet. Some waster has squatted behind my tree. He looked about for another bit of shade. Seeing nothing better, he decided to bury the excrement under the sand using a stick from the tree. He laid down again, this time with a short log for a pillow. The two tankards of ale and the hot sun were enough to send him off to sleep.

  The morning sun was up when he awoke, thinking the night had passed unusually quickly. Men were gathering near the spoils pile.

  Why this? They appear to be the company of Ranger. I’d best go investigate. He wandered close in to the edge of the crowd. The crewmen were from Ranger, for sure, and most seemed quite excited. Some were close to drunk, but even those were managing to pay attention. A ring around the outside was also forming. The outer people looked to be locals – tavern keepers, carpenters, jewelry-makers and prostitutes – who preyed on the pirates, wanting to know how much they might be able to swindle from them.

  Hornigold’s quartermaster, William Howard, pushed his way through to the center of the throng and climbed onto a rough table fashioned from a section of a rotting ship. The table appeared to be a commonly-used podium for announcements. He stood for a moment waiting for the throng to quiet, and announced, “Only coin now, mates. Naught from plate or logwood or any of the specialities. For the rest, we must wait for payment in trade.”

  That must be normal. Nobody’s complaining.

  “Three hundred and seventy-two pound apiece in coin – gold, silver or copper: doubloons, real, ducats, francs, or sterling. The total includes what we fished from the wrecks in Florida and what we took from ships. Be here tomorrow noon if you want yours.” The noise level of gossiping men increased.

  “But we’ve only got ‘til Tuesday, eh, Billy?” someone yelled.

  “Where’d you hear that?” Howard asked.

  “Blackbeard announced in the tavern… said we sail Tuesday.”

  “Well, he’s right, unless Captain Hornigold changes it,” Howard said. He jumped off the platform and walked off toward the ship. The crowd dispersed quickly, mostly in the direction of town.

  Neville hadn’t yet seen any obvious way to escape the place, nor had he seen any activity in the harbor other than the comings and goings of a few small boats of pirates. He therefore assumed Mr. Thompson hadn’t left yet so the time to go see him had come. He also assumed yesterday’s initial reporting had concluded, and the accounting – setting the value on the spoils stacked on the strand, was surely under way in a back room.

  He followed the same trail through town and out the other side, up the low hill and around the hedge, until the house came into view. He had done enough sleuthing in Jamaica to know his clothes needed to fit the situation and, for this occasion, bein
g dressed in a complete set of clothes certainly would do. He had also done enough sleuthing to know, as he approached the house, that it was guarded; he was being watched from the second floor inside the house, and from outside the house on either side. None of the watchers moved.

  Neville stepped onto the small patio before the front door and knocked. The door opened, and he found himself looking into the barrels of two heavy pistols.

  “Good morning, gentlemen,” he said calmly, “Doctor Neville Elliot of the good ship Ranger to see Mister Richard Thompson, if you please.”

  One man nodded to the other and went off to ask for instructions. The other remained in Neville’s path holding his pistol. He motioned Neville to come in and close the door.

  The house was cooler than Neville expected, and completely out of keeping with its surroundings. It boasted a stone floor, plastered walls, glass windows with wooden shutters, and actual wooden furniture. Not much else could be seen from the entry vestibule. The man who had gone returned. “He’ll see you,” he said. “This way.”

  Neville walked between the two into the next room. It appeared to be as it had for some time in the past – the formal parlor. A properly-dressed gentleman sat in a comfortable upholstered chair at a small writing table by a window, much as the captain of a seventy-four might do. No accountants were working in this room, either. The gentleman looked up as Neville walked in but did not stand. “I’ve already heard of you. What do you want?”

  “You might have heard I’m hoping to find medical supplies. I didn’t find much aboard Ranger.”

  “I might have a few things, but you’ll have to pay; or it could come out of Captain Hornigold’s profits. I may be wrong, but I doubt you’d have his approval.”

  I hadn’t thought of payment. How stupid of me. “I will inquire, of course, but if I must myself pay, I assume you have news of the amount Ranger will share out tomorrow?”

  “I have. What makes you think you’re entitled to anything?”

  I didn’t think of that either, but it makes sense I wouldn’t be. “I will inquire. He might be willing to take a small sum from every man’s share. Please investigate your stores; I will discuss the matter with Captain Hornigold and return tomorrow. Fair enough?”