Age Of Unreason - Newton's Cannon Part 22

"Apologize to Satan," Teach snapped.

"I just did."

Blackbeard c.o.c.ked the pistol, eyes smoldering, but then he chuckled. "What do you

want, boy?"

"You said we could help each other."

"I did."

"How?"

"I want your boat, and I' in willing to pay you for it, so long as you help me board her."

"You'll slit my throat," Ben said.

"No, I give you my word."

"Well, then you'll break my neck," Ben shot back. "Either way, I'll be dead."

"You seem in a hurry to die," Blackbeard growled, "rushing back to Boston to someone

who tried to murder you. What good do you think you can do there?"

"He means to kill a friend of mine."

"Your friend is already dead, if that's the case," Blackbeard said. "Once the officials start looking for who killed your brother, your killer has only a short time. Boston isn't big enough to hide in. He'd finish his business and clear out."

"That's what you would do," Ben retorted.

"Lad, I'm not often given to advising the young. But if you come through meeting me still alive-if you can keep me from cutting out that insolent tongue of yours-then you're best advised to pursue some other business, because you will have used up all your luck for ten years. It sounds like your brother has tangled you up in something mean-"

"No. It was I who tangled him."

"Well, even worse. If you are the quarry, maybe this fellow would rather chase you man stay to kill your friend. In which case you should lead him far, far away. Now, I'm the fellow can do that for you, see. I can be the man who cuts short this fellow's work, or I can be the one who sets you free of him. Now just tell me which, but don't dither anymore."

Ben looked at the sea. "If I sell you my boat, how will I get anywhere?"

"I'll tell you that, too."

"How much for the boat?"

"Two hundred English pounds."

Ben stared at him. "I don't believe you."

"That fee includes you loading the boat with any provisions- including water-that have washed up here, and it includes you carrying me down to the boat."

"No," Ben said, and then, firmly, "No, sir. I'll sell you the boat, and I'll load the provisions. Then I'll cut you a crutch so you can get to the boat. More than that I won't do."

"Agreed. Load up my boat and I'll tell you where to get the money."

"And where to go from here."

"And where to go," Blackbeard replied.

It didn't take very long to load everything useful on the beach into the boat. The heaviest was a half cask of rum, of which Blackbeard demanded a cup the instant Ben found it. He found some ship's provisions. Besides that, there were two crates the pirate insisted on taking with him.

When all was loaded, Ben edged cautiously back toward Teach. The pirate regarded him for a long moment but didn't raise his pistol. "My crutch," he said.

"My money," Ben replied.

The pirate reached into the ample pockets of his gray coat. He withdrew a sack and tossed it at Ben's feet. It jingled. "There, d.a.m.n you," Teach said.

Ben counted the sterling on the way to the forest edge. It came to just two hundred pounds. Using a jackknife Teach had given him he laboriously cut a sapling with a forked crotch and trimmed it into a rude crutch. He threw it to Blackbeard from fifteen yards away.

"There," he shouted.

Blackbeard nodded, raised his pistol, and pulled the trigger. There was an enormous explosion and a plume of black smoke puffed toward Ben like dragon's breath.

"Double d.a.m.n!" Blackbeard snarled, as Ben felt his chest and found no wound. "One day they'll make a pistol as can hit something."

"The h.e.l.l with you, Edward Teach!" Ben snapped.

"Don't take it personal, boy." With that, Blackbeard lurched up, with the help of the crutch, and began hopping toward the boat. When the pirate reached the little craft, he turned to shout back at Ben. "Wait till I'm out of sight, then light a fire. If you do it while I'm still in sight, I'll come back and kill you, I swear it."

It seemed possible. He had moved more nimbly on his crutch than Ben had guessed he would.

Watching the sail grow smaller, Ben hoped that the hole he had made in the boat would be slow to show itself. He had stuffed it tight with a plug of hard bread; it wouldn't let

water in until the bread had dissolved.

When he couldn't see the sail anymore, he did as Blackbeard had suggested and built a fire with the remaining wood and some deadfall from the forest. He lit it using now-dry powder from the flintlock Blackbeard had flung down. After the fire was going steadily, he watched from the shelter of a large elm, ready to hide deeper in the woods.

Near sundown, he saw the sails of an approaching frigate flying the King's Jack."That was clever thinking, I'll be bound," Captain Caldwell told him."I saw the battle the night before," Ben explained."That was the Champion" Caldwell said. "She went down with all hands. We lost them both in the dark and came too late to help." He gritted his teeth. "We'll get Teach, though. Come h.e.l.l or the deep blue sea, we'll get him."

Ben nodded tiredly.

"Boston lad, eh?" the captain went on. "How do I know you aren't a pirate yourself?"

Then he laughed at Ben's expression. Ben found he was quickly tiring of the laughter of seamen. "Never fear, lad," the captain went on. "You don't have the look, the clothes- in short, I believe you. But if you have any idea where Teach was headed..."

Ben shrugged. "I hulled his boat, but he may have been able to fix that. He certainly

didn't tell me where he was headed."

"No, I shouldn't think he would. Smart thinking, to sabotage his craft. Should make it easier to find him."

"Pardon me, sir," Ben said. "But where will you put in to port next?"

"After we find Teach? Then it's Philadelphia."

"Philadelphia? Not Boston?"

"No, lad, I'm sorry. But you can book pa.s.sage to Boston easily enough. I can probably

find a captain as will do it for free."

"I don't know," Ben said, swallowing hard. "I was leaving Boston anyway. I was headed

to Philadelphia to see my uncle and then to England."

"Good lad," Caldwell said. "I may be able to help you there, too."

Four days later, there was still no sign of Blackbeard, and the Hornbeam reluctantly put in to Philadelphia. Two days after that, Ben was on a ship bound for England. He did his best to keep thoughts of John Collins, his mother, and his father from his mind. In Boston the best thing he could do was die. In London he could find out what he and John had done to call up the wrath of h.e.l.l, and maybe he could solve whatever problems the two of them had created.

And though he no longer believed in a G.o.d who answers prayers, he still prayed for G.o.d to keep his friends and family safe-and he prayed for James, wherever he might be, to forgive him.

Part Two

THE CANNON.

City of Science

"There they are, Ben," Robert Nairne observed, thrusting his index finger toward the horizon. "The white cliffs! England at last!"

Ben nodded eagerly and drew in a deep breath, certain that he detected the faint scent of land. Their good ship the Berkshire now drew her wake through the straits of Dover, nearing the mouth of the Thames. More ominous was the green line of France in the east, though Ben supposed what he saw was Calais, in British hands at the moment.

Unless he had inadvertently furnished the French with some new weapon, one which, during his three-month voyage, had allowed them to push Marlborough's troops into the sea. But since the Berkshire was equipped with an aetherschreiber and the captain had kept them apprised of most news, he imagined he would have learned of a new French offensive.

"I'd be in love with any land I saw right now," Ben said. "And happy with any sod beneath my feet."

"Let's hear you repeat that in a week," Robert said, shaking back his thick auburn hair. His changeable eyes were green with the sea, or perhaps with the emerald fields peeping over the chalky cliffs. "Three years I've been away this time. I once said I would never miss England, but I repent it all. There's some wonderful wild places on the Earth, Ben, but there's no coast in India nor the South Seas nor the Caribbean as can compare."

Ben shrugged. It was hard not to envy Robert's travels, but at the moment the thought of another ocean voyage did not provoke any excitement in him. For between the destinations there was only the monotonous, endless sea. Everything on a long voyage wore out-the wonders of porpoises and flying fish, the novelty of travel. People said the same things over and over again. Fortunately, one of those people had been Robert. The son of a military man, Robert was now, at twenty-one, something of an adventurer, and he had many interesting stories to tell-some probably even true. They had begun swapping pirate stories after Robert had learned of Ben's encounter with Blackbeard, and they had quickly discovered they had many interests in common. Though his scientific book learning was scanty, Robert had a quick grasp of new ideas. Their long days of discussing what could be had kept Ben from dwelling on what had been.

"I've a mind just where we might stay," Robert went on.

"We?"

"Well, certain, if y'd like. I had no mind't' turn you loose in London alone!"

"I'd be happy of a guide and a friend in London," Ben said quickly. "I hear 'tis something bigger than Boston."

"Something bigger? Oh, yes," Robert replied. "London! The best food, the finest entertainments, the sweetest little wh.o.r.es in all the world."

Ben's ears burned a bit. "Well, I've more to do than that sort of thing."

"Oh, but o' course, my young philosopher. You'll be seekin' out those scientific men and whatnot. But I'll wager I can find some time to help y' learn the finer sorts of pleasures."

Ben blushed furiously, both angry and embarra.s.sed.

Robert patted him on the shoulder. "Don't let me devil you, Ben. I just do it for the joy it gives me. But I do mean to show y' London."

"I'll be grateful for it," Ben a.s.sured him.

The breeze freshened; a few of the sailors cheered hoa.r.s.ely, which Ben took for a good sign. By afternoon they had put into the mouth of the Thames. Ben and Robert watched the sun set against land for the first time in more than eighty days.

By dawn, they could make out the gray, bunched houses of Gravesend and the impressive fortress of Tilbury.

The banks of the Thames were verdant, adorned with picturesque villages and fields. Most of the stone buildings in Boston were no older than himself, and he had believed the new church to be grand. Yet in the first two hours that morning he saw two manors thrice as imposing as even the Faneuil mansion back home. And this was the countryside. What would London be like?

He had always thought that James had exaggerated the provincial nature of Boston, but Ben began to fear just the opposite. He was suddenly grateful that he had met Robert.

He realized his fingers were fidgeting, as if impatiently awaiting the chance to open a present. No trepidation could overshadow the waxing excitement in his breast.