Marathon Gold

By Chris James

Chapter Five

The boys, Erick who was ten and Arie the eight year old, proved worthy companions. Over the course of the next six months they taught me some of the Dutch language and I reciprocated by teaching them English. We still communicated in French whenever possible because many of the pirates spoke at least some of that language, as did Caesar.

I felt it important that few people were aware of our private means of communication because things had begun to change in the village. To Caesar's credit he was a good pirate, snagging a new ship about once a month. The prize this past month was a thirty foot open sailing vessel, something I would have called a cutter by the rigging it had with the mast sitting amidships.

The small cutter had left the Bermudas lashed to the deck of a brig which was heading for Havana. It was a specially built craft for a wealthy landowner in Cuba, but it belonged to Caesar now. The bad luck of the brig sounded legendary. They lost the Master overboard in a storm along with much of their deck cargo when they struck a reef.

The cutter survived and was cut loose as the brig began to sink. About half the crew managed to board before the brig surrendered to the deep only to discover there were no provisions aboard. Lost with no food or water they were spotted from the crow's nest under limp sail attempting to make repairs to the rudder which had sheared off. Caesar swooped in for the capture with no resistance whatsoever.

By now Caesar had changed the plan, the crews were no longer tossed overboard, they were enslaved and it was all Mama Koobo's fault. A prognosticator of future events, she had convinced Caesar that the gods had been kind so far, but that was about to end. The storm season had been mild this year with only three good blows behind us, but that was not to last.

She divined her predictions in the entrails of a chicken and the way the waves ate away a construction she had built on the beach. I considered it all nonsense, but the odds were in her favor and so was Caesar. The message was loud and clear, we had to be able to weather a massive storm in the coming summer. And so we began to build.

Moving east towards the tall trees, Caesar ordered shacks torn down and replaced with stone buildings. The stone we had to use was coral dug out of the ground by hand, it was intense labor. The pirates could only do so much and so it was determined to stop killing captured crews and instead take them prisoner and put them to work.

Watching someone else work was a job made for Tickle and a lot of the others. But since none of them wanted to stand watch over fifty prisoners the first thing built was a prison. The first solid building was some thirty paces wide and long with high narrow windows and only one door. It took two months to build in the temperate clime of the Florida winter. I could only imagine what an oven it would be come summer.

Caesar's own residence would have four rooms. His bedroom, the harem for his women, a sitting room and a treasure room. At the moment his precious booty was spilling out of a shed next to his shack and that disturbed him. I judged it an irrational fear. Who would dare to steal from him, and even if they did, where would they take it?

The prisoners worked themselves to death and were replaced. Some offered to join his merry band of pirates and a very few were admitted because they were known. Gunny found a cousin on the crew of a merchantman and he joined. Not a pleasant discovery for me, now I had to watch them both. But my plans were going well.

Caesar had given me a name, and I suppose that was a sign of acceptance. I was called Tig or Blan Tig depending upon his mood. I accepted the name without comment until Mama Koobo had the chance to tell me what it meant.

"Blan means white man, tig mean the cat you call tiger. This is Creole speaking," Mama said. "Is mean he like you."

"White tiger? I don't understand. I have become the nanny to half a dozen boys. Does he expect me to eat them?" I asked.

Mama laughed. "No, he respect you courage. You be strong like the tig, it good name for you."

And so Tig I became, at least to Caesar, my young charges called me Michael. Erick and Arie had been joined by Thomas, William, Lawrence and Oliver. The last four had been working boys on a large merchantman that fell to Caesar's shipwrecked sailors ploy. Oliver was the oldest at thirteen, but he was small of stature and that probably saved his life. The others were either my age or slightly younger.

Caesar had taken pleasure in putting all these boys under my care, Tickle was amused. I had been on the island for almost two years now and his dominance over me was waning by mutual agreement. He had his own friends among the younger men, and engaged in their pleasures, drinking and smoking tobacco in excess. He was too grown up to have a puppy at his heels.

My gang of boys was given odd jobs to perform and I set them about building a stone enclosure to sleep in. The plan was to make it ten foot square. Large enough to contain us all and yet small enough that the timber we could scrounge could be made into a roof for bad weather.

The walls were only six foot tall because I wanted to discourage the pirate crew from visiting us, and all we ever did was sleep there. I had watched those experienced in building as they worked on the prison, noting the way the stones were cut and the results stacked upon one another.

It was Caesar's luck that a hold full of quicklime was brought ashore, facilitating the construction of these buildings. A shovel of the lime, a shovel of sand and a half bucket of water provided a serviceable mortar to hold the stones together. And since I led the boys in unloading this cargo we secreted a pile of it for our own use. There was another need for our own building. I was using the sand floor to bury my stolen supplies.

There was no sense in stealing food right away, but I did take fishing implements. I managed a boarding axe and three cutlasses, but could not get my hands on a pistol and powder. There were odd bottles and jugs for retaining water, and spare cloth to repair sails. Over time I would accumulate more, saving the really important things for last.

Oliver and the Dutch boys were in on my secret and swore to keep silent on pain of death. The others were too immature and given to boyish games. If they did not change by the time I planned to escape I would leave them behind, something I did not wish to do.

Of them all Oliver was the best sailor, having been aboard ships for three years. He was English by birth, born into a poor family who had indentured him the moment he was of an age to be worthy of the few coins they received. He had lived with sailors and seen their craft. To my mind he would be an asset on the open sea.

I planned to steal the cutter, the only boat that had the speed to run away quickly and not be caught by anything else Caesar possessed. Oliver had seen the charts for the east coast of Florida and declared that we would have to run almost eight hundred miles to reach St Augustine. I was all for heading towards Cuba which was much closer.

It was during this discussion of a possible escape route that I learned Florida had been handed over to the Americans six months ago and was now part of the United States. When I had arrived in Cuba it was still a Spanish territory so this was a pleasant surprise. The American Navy had been strengthened since the War of 1812, the year of my birth. I could only wonder where they were, we had not seen the likes of them.

I could see how many vessels Caesar took, and I heard talk of others in the larger brotherhood of competing pirates. José Gaspar and Roberto Cofresi were infamous and much admired by Caesar. Jean Laffite had helped defeat the British at the Battle of New Orleans which made Caesar despise him, or maybe it was the fame attached to that name.

Tickle had once told me that Caesar often introduced himself to the captains of vessels he took and asked if they had heard of him. He basked in the glory of the fear he saw in their eyes. But if all these pirates were operating in the waters claimed by America I knew it wouldn't be long before the navy was sent to destroy them. The question remained; did I want to be here when they arrived?

Life here on the island went on, week after week, month after month. Everyone had tasks to perform and the sameness of those requirements could lull me into a stupor that made me forget the larger objective of my daily life. And then Caesar would do something crazy, something larger than the normal irrational behavior he espoused.

He commanded respect from everyone, but more so from the prisoners. By now I was sure he had been a slave in Haiti, suggestions had been made by some of the others to this effect. I had seen how quickly he had freed the four Africans, I thought he abhorred slavery. But he treated the prisoners as slaves even though he did not chain them.

Disobedient prisoners were lashed and Caesar often gave that pleasure to Gunny. It was considered entertainment to the pirates, and never a more cruel sport could be envisioned. Stretched across a hatchway grate tied between two trees, the man would be whipped until he passed out, doused with salt water and then whipped again. If the man died Caesar would shrug and walk away.

Gunny was a bad choice to mete out punishment, he was mentally incompetent. He would count out loud with each lash and then the fun would begin. He would apply nine, ten, eleven lashes, grunting out the numbers each time since he could not articulate. And then a voice would yell six after another lash was applied. Gunny would stumble and look around, picking up his count with seven, then eight. The fool couldn't remember where he was and the pirates found that hilarious. It was the cause of many a death under the lash.

Caesar would only smile and go out in search of another prize, another crew to imprison, more hands to work his schemes. By my twelfth birthday that summer we were ready for Mama's predicted disaster of a storm. Need I mention how right she was? Her timing was off, but in the later part of the season a storm so fierce hit upon us it changed the very landscape of our island.

We could see it approaching; the sea was kind enough to run erratic in the days before it hit us. Mama wailed about the devil's wind, and Gunny gestured about storm waters rising over the island. It took fifty men to beach Caesar's prized cutter and then fill it with sand before it was lashed between a dozen trees.

A surge of water over the island was a distinct possibility to which none of us had a good defense. The boys wanted to huddle up in the walled enclosure we had built but I told them the water might rise up to six feet and then where would we be? I felt there was only one solution; we had to take to the trees.

The first inclination of a sailor is to get above the water by climbing a mast and lashing himself into the crosstrees. I feared for my mother and the other women, Caesar could drown for all I cared. But there would be no saving them if God was to be unkind, and I had my gang of boys to consider.

We carried spare rope and our hammocks into the woods. I had each of the boys tie their hammocks a good ten feet off the ground, and then bend them double. The wind was gusting fiercely by now, making the task all that much harder. Each boy was given a length of rope to tie himself off to the tree. He was to stand in the hammock which acted like a sling and then lash himself and the hammock to the tree, it was the best I could achieve.

Gunny had made it clear that a giant wave would come, and might be followed by several more. It would sweep away man and beast if they were out in the open, I had no idea what would happen to those inside a little stone house. To save our food supply a dozen or more chickens were caged and hung in the trees. The pigs were wild and quite on their own.

Two men were on watch at the beach since only a fool would be in the crows nest during a storm like this. Lightning flashed and the thunder was a terrible fright, but the wind was moving at gale force and likely to blow down every tree on the island. The storm came on and I could hear the boys screaming to one another above the wind, seeking assurance that all was well. And then I heard the gunshots.

Gunny had warned the water would recede minutes before the massive waves arrived, the gunshots signaled this was happening. I imagined the two watchmen scrambling for the cover of their huts as the waves rose to crash down upon us.

"Cinch your ropes tight," I yelled. "And pray like you have never prayed before." And then I heard the roar.

The island shook, the trees shook, and it was more than wind at work here. I wanted to see my fate but dared not look. I was hanging ten feet above the sand and yet water splashed into me twisting my body sideways. The tree groaned and bent, but it did not snap. The roar receded and was followed several minutes later by another and yet another. The second two didn't toss me about, they were lesser waves.

"Stay where you are," I yelled, and a good thing too.

The final roar of water was fierce and I braced myself. The tree shook and my face was slammed into it. I was sure to have broken my nose and my arms felt numb, but the ropes held and I lived. I stayed put in that tree for what seemed like hours amidst the crash of tree limbs in the raging wind, lightning and the horrible crash of thunder, but I was alive.

Not so lucky were many of the pirate crew and about half the prisoners. The door to their prison had been barred but the first wave had smashed it down. Some of the men foolishly ran outside and were swept away. Their bodies were found tangled up in the brush.

Except for the stone buildings, all else was gone, leaving behind nothing but sand that had been pushed in drifts. Caesar's house stood, minus a small section of the roof. It was nothing less than miraculous that none of the women were killed, but there was injury aplenty.

The storm raged for two days, long enough for us to all get thoroughly soaked and worn out, but that mattered not to Caesar. He raged larger than the storm and we had to lay everything out in the sun to dry. Of the ten boats he owned, four of them were kindling wood, and yet the prized cutter survived. I considered that an omen.

It took weeks to assess the damage and begin the process of recovery. Food was in short supply, but water was supplied by subsequent rains. Yet Caesar was angry because he could not pursue piracy right away. There might be a dozen vessels stranded on the reefs, but he had no way to find them.

The crows nest was shattered and had to be rebuilt, but survival at this point meant finding food. I took the boys fishing on the north side of the island and we brought back enough to feed the entire population. Wills had saved his cooking pots and implements but little else. It would be rough going for a while, but Caesar ate the fish stew and stopped grumbling.

I managed a talk with my mother as I mustered the boys to spread out the bedding, clothing and furniture in Caesar's house to dry. It was well to note he trusted us to do the work but would allow none of his crew inside. My mother told me Caesar had cried like a baby when the water struck, assured that the devil had finally come for him.

"Mama Koobo says Caesar is horribly superstitious, he fears the voodoo devils," I told her.

She smiled and gave me a wink. "His weakness should be our strength in times of trial. The Lord will protect us, he has no such advantage."

"I am collecting supplies for our escape. Not as fast as I would like, but I fear someone finding out."

"What else do you need? Maybe I can help."

"No, that would not be wise," I said. "You have no place to hide the things you might find. What I really need is a brace of pistols, powder and shot."

"Why... would you kill someone?"

"Mother, I would shoot Caesar himself if it would get us off this island. I may never use them because stealth is our only means at the moment. But I don't intend to be foolish and risk our freedom because I could not stop an enemy in his tracks."

She gazed at me with sadness in her eyes. "I am sorry, Michael. I am sorry that all this has come to pass and your life has come to such a dangerous turn. We should never have left home, I can see that now. You have been robbed of your childhood."

I smiled at her suggestion of my maturity. "I have just grown before my time, that's all, Mother. We could not sit at home and say we have lived life to the fullest. We went out to meet destiny rather than waiting for it to call upon us."

I saw her smile and she gave me a nod. "When did my boy gain such wisdom?" She asked.

"When I stopped being a boy," I replied.

It was good we had this day together; it had been too long since we had spoken. I saw her watching me as we worked and knew she judged me to be a man. I had grown six inches since we were captured. Gone was the baby fat, and in its place there were strong muscles that held me in good stead for the work we had to do.

But I had also reached manhood which gave me pride in the accomplishment. Oliver was fourteen months older and yet had not achieved that threshold, something he was painfully aware of. As boys we frolicked in the surf almost daily, and I saw him observing me and yet he was too shy to say anything, but he would.

I had come to admire Oliver's intelligence, for like Erick he had a gift for languages. The three of us built small fires on the north beach at night, away from the village where we could speak in private. Plotting and planning was our foremost consideration, but there was also reminiscing.

"Your father is a sea captain; did he fight in the war?" Oliver asked me one evening.

"He did, he held a Lieutenant's commission on the USS Argus under Stephen Decatur, and they captured the HMS Macedonian. He was wounded in that action and set ashore. His good fortune, the Argus was taken six months later."

"Um...I know, my oldest brother served aboard HMS Pelican, the ship that took her in Wales," Oliver said.

"It was all such foolishness," I said. "Bad blood between our countries, and nothing more."

"Agreed," Oliver said. "And look what it wrought. These pirates had free run of the seas while that silliness occurred. Caesar would have been caught and hanged by now if not for that."

I could only sigh. "I still dream of a great warship sitting off the island and blasting away at him."

"At us you mean, this would not be good for our position," Erick said.

"He has a point," Oliver said. "So when are you going to teach me how to fight with a sword?"

"You are already a master with a stick," I laughed.

"I could get Tickle to teach me," Oliver said.

I shook my head. "I would not if I were you. He has a mean streak and would just as likely run you through. Be careful around him."

But careful he was not. Tickle had grown ill tempered these past months. He was a young man without substance and since Caesar did nothing to rein him in there were times I doubted Tickle's sanity. He treated the boys poorly and I saw that as a challenge to my authority over them.

The first I heard of Tickle's doings was when Erick came running to me and said Oliver was at Mama's hut dying of a sword thrust. I dropped my hammer and made for the other side of the village. Mama's eyes looked into mine and she smiled.

"He will live, it was a mean thing done to him," She said.

Oliver was pale and covered in sweat. The wound was to his side and I sincerely hoped that there was no damage to his organs. A thrust to the kidneys or liver would turn fatal in mere days, but Mama assured me such was not the case here.

"What happened, how did Oliver end up at the point of a sword?" I asked Erick.

"Tickle offered to engage him, for practice mind you. But Oliver showed some skill and that brought anger. Tickle batted away and Oliver lost his grip on the sword. The bastard thrust at him when he bent over to pick it up."

I nodded, it was my turn now. I walked across the village to the cook shed where Tickle was in conversation boasting of his battle with a mere boy. He saw me coming and smiled, it was then I saw both swords sitting on the table. He had been expecting me.

"Come to seek revenge?" Tickle laughed.

"Revenge for a brave deed I could see. But only a coward stabs a boy who isn't looking. Will you be so brave if you are looking me in the eye?" I asked.

Tickle smiled. "I see Oliver is not the only boy who needs a lesson today." And he picked up one of the swords, leaving the other on the table.

To think that I had once called him friend and he had saved me from Gunny. That was all in the past, he was different now. Dangerous for sure, but mostly to himself. It was a sad thing that we had come to this, but it had to be done.

I picked up the other sword and tested its weight in my hand. I was not the boy Tickle remembered, he was about to learn that. Drawing blood would not satisfy the current state of affairs, a death just might.

Men scrambled from the cook shed and ran to fetch others. Tickle had stepped outside and stood awaiting me on a patch of sand where we had fought once before.

"No rules," Tickle said.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," I replied.

He lunged at me and I parried his thrust, that's when I saw his knife appear in the left hand. It put me at an extreme disadvantage; I now had two points aimed at me. From the beginning I had no doubt that Tickle intended to kill me. The fight was for all or nothing and so of course he would cheat with that knife. He had counted on scaring me so I had to even things up a bit.

I circled, aware that the sun was quickly at my back and in his eyes. He lunged again, bringing his knife up at the same time and aimed for my stomach. The shock on his face registered as the knife fell from his hand, the point of my sword had pierced his wrist clean through.

"You little bastard," He screamed, his left hand was now useless. His eyes were crazed and what I saw was fear behind the anger and pain. I had to end this quickly before someone stepped in and allowed Tickle to kill me.

He began slashing at me with the rapier as if it were a cutlass, his fatal mistake. I parried the blows and slid my sword down to the hilt of his, and then I took my left hand to hold the only good wrist he had left. Tickle gave me a look of surprise and then looked down. My sword was run right through the middle of his stomach and sticking out his back.

I took away his sword and left mine where it was as he went to his knees.

"Boy," He groaned. "You have killed me." And he toppled over on his side in the sand.

The pirates around me remained silent as I looked down. It had been my fight to make. I was afraid that one of Tickle's friends would draw a pistol and shoot me, but none did. I didn't want to look up and see Caesar standing there; it would leave him with a choice to make.

Tickle's body jerked a few times and then became still. I dropped my sword and knelt in the sand beside him. I wanted to say a prayer for his soul, his lost and mindless soul. Caesar had seized him as a boy and brought him to this point. He was as much to blame for this death as I.

Somehow I managed to speak to my God and ask forgiveness for this terrible deed. I had killed a boy... for in my mind he had never really reached manhood. I wished to forgive Tickle for his transgressions, there were so many to contemplate.

The worst part of our relationship was that I had never even learned his real name. It galled me that I was on my knees praying for someone that I didn't really know. And then a hand descended upon my shoulder and I knew who it was.

"We talk now," Caesar said.

I rose to my feet and followed Caesar down to the beach where we walked in the sand close to the surf.

"You kill a good man. I know why," Caesar said.

"I killed him, yes. But I don't know why, will you explain it to me?"

"He cannot live this life, he unhappy. You mean to stay living no matter what happen, he see this. Now his life over before beginning because he jealous of you."

"I am sorry, I know he was valuable to you as a fighting man," I said.

"This is true," Caesar said. I was more afraid of the man at this moment than at any other time since we had come here. I was afraid because he was being rational when crazy was normal.

"Maybe you take his place?"

"Me? I cannot fight," I said.

Caesar gave out a short barking laugh. "You sword say different, dead boy agree with me."

"Captain, I have never faced gunfire, I would be useless to you in a fight."

"Maybe... maybe not. You crew boat next time we go out. No fight, stay with boat. You learn something, I see."

"Aye, aye, Captain."

And so Caesar handed me the final solution to my problems, he would allow me to sail in the cutter and learn her lines. When the time came I would take her with my boyish crew, the women and a few prisoners if I could manage such. Caesar was giving me the key to my escape, but then life was not ready for me to take that step quite yet.

It was the winter season in Florida, but then this had been an exceptional year for bad weather. Storms caught a Spanish brig off guard and it crashed upon the reef. Caesar ordered the cutter and three boats to take the ship. The boats were launched while the cutter was sailed around from the north side of the island and through the channel.

Caesar had taken to hiding the cutter there, fearing an expedition down the outer line of islands would reveal our presence with a fine boat moored on the sea side. The cutter was fast enough to sail around the tip of the island and through the narrow channel in the reef. I was dragged along on this outing, a pirate at last.

My mother was captive, what choice did I have? I sat beside my old nemesis Gunny who held the tiller. It was the perfect spot to learn the working of the ship. Everyone aboard was armed except me, all I carried was a knife. The brig was stuck fast, with no hope and yet she mounted six cannon down each side and had two swivels on the raised quarterdeck.

The first indication of the resistance we would face came when the cannon roared out, blasting a cannon ball within mere feet of the cutter. Gunny roared with laughter and watched the brig. After firing the cannon were withdrawn to reload and then run out again. The second Gunny saw the cannon reappear he threw the tiller over, nearly spilling me over the side.

Another round of shot missed because we had changed course. The smaller boats were not so lucky, they didn't move as swiftly. By the third fusillade one of the boats was holed, causing it to begin sinking. Gunny turned us towards them and we swept up to the rescue. Of course the ship saw that and let fly at us once again.

A cannon ball holed our mainsail but Gunny wasn't planning to slow down. The crew of the small boat could see us coming and dove overboard, lining up for the rescue attempt. A net was cast off the port side as we came upon those in the water, they would have but one chance to grab on and be pulled aboard.

We were less than a thousand feet from the brig as those in the water grabbed hold and Gunny saw the cannon run out again. He cut hard to starboard this time, spilling the wind from the sail and halting our immense speed. The roar of cannon followed and all the balls flew forward of our position, but where we might have been.

The survivors were hauled on board and Gunny turned back to port, speeding the cutter in a long arc towards the stern of the brig. The swivel gun managed to get off one round, but it was grape shot which wounded several of the crew. Caesar roared in anger and personally shot the man behind the gun, and the one who stood up to take his place. Then we were under the stern and Gunny had them drop the mainsail.

The bowsprit kept us in line with the brig as ropes were tossed and grappling hooks bit into the rail. The first of the deck crew to lean over for a shot was blown away by several musket balls. His comrades were hesitant to repeat that mistake. Pirates swarmed up the ropes and the battle on deck ensued.

I found myself alone at the tiller as Gunny had all the sails reefed and sought to get into the act for himself. There were four wounded pirates aboard and me. Somehow I knew Caesar was testing me and so I paid close attention to the battle above.

Caesar had quickly taken charge of the swivel guns and turned them on the deck. Two rapid bursts rang out and the ship was taken. I could hear the screams and then the splash as bodies were heaved over the side. Not everyone was thrown over; Caesar was looking for a few good prisoners.

A carpenter and his mate would be spared; a blacksmith would also be saved. But what Caesar wanted most was a doctor, a skill we had never had in the village. Gunny and several of the crew slid down the ropes back into the cutter, and he proudly displayed his blood covered cutlass to me. Happy the pirate who could kill the live long day, or so I was told.

The cutter was brought alongside and grappled to the brig. The other boats tied on as well and the search began. I had no idea what was happening aboard, my deal with Caesar was to stay in the cutter. Several unfamiliar men climbed down to join me and I looked up to see two of Caesar's men standing at the rail with a brace of pistols at the ready.

The normal compliment of bags and crates soon followed and I told the prisoners to load them carefully in the middle of the cutter. Caesar looked over the side a few times and nodded at me organizing the loading. Finally there was quite a pile of goods and six pirates climbed down to sail us back to the beach.

We had no dock to unload the cutter, but she had a copper bottom so Gunny ran us up on the sand. I stayed aboard and supervised the unloading while a detail of prisoners was brought down the beach to carry it all back to the storehouses. Erick and the boys worked on the detail and kept giving me glances.

Oliver was on the mend, and at some point I would have to explain my actions to him and the others. Gunny and two of the crew made to escort the five new prisoners up to the village but one of them almost had to be carried by the others.

He was an older man in a black frock coat. I had no idea who he was except that Caesar wanted him here. He looked pale and confused, something I would remember long after this day was over. Caesar had allowed more than new prisoners to be brought ashore, he had made what was to be a very great mistake.

I look back on that day, that week and the month which followed as the saddest time of my life. I am still young and realize that other events will impact my life, but none would be this devastating. It has been almost twelve months now since I laid my mother in her grave, something no boy of thirteen should have to do alone.

The man in the frock coat was Caesar's doctor, only he was sick. He had been at work among the native population in Jamaica and caught a fever sickness which he brought among us. The man was frightened of what he had witnessed and denied his illness. Instead he set about examining the women and tending to those among the crew who had all sorts of complaints. I suppose it was a blessing that Mama Koobo would have nothing to do with the white man's medicine, it saved Oliver's life.

First several of the men and then women became ill. Caesar took the doctor out behind his house and shot him dead. The big brave man was terrified and left the women to their own misery, choosing to camp out in the woods away from everyone. I immediately went to my mother's aid, bringing her fresh water and soothing potions Mama Koobo mixed for me, but to no avail.

My mother's fever raged and she began to choke, eventually her lungs filling with fluid until she drown. She kept her mouth covered with a cloth as she coughed and told me not to touch anything, but I held her hand until the very end. She passed from this world in the early evening on the saddest day of my life.

I strode to the tip of the island and waded into the surf, watching the sun set in the far western sky, and I wept. All my plans for escape were for naught, what motivation did I have now? I had been helpless to save her and thus felt I should not save myself. What did I have to go home to? A father who was gone to sea for most of my life? My mother had been the comfort and succor through all the trials of childhood, except this one. In her moment of greatest need I had failed.

I was not alone in my misery, Erick and Arie's mother had also passed behind the black curtain of death. I would be little comfort to them; at least they had each other. I stared at the starry sky and felt the change begin within me. The universe was vast and I but a speck of dust in God's plan.

I returned to camp at dawn and saw the misery of these people who were more afraid of a silent death than a violent one. I felt like a messiah among them, I was reborn, and I had decided they were not worth saving. That assessment did not pertain to the children; the boys I had watched over were more precious to me than all of Caesar's gold. Them I would save and I knew the time was upon us.

Having the cutter at anchor on the north side of the island was of benefit to my plans. It was out of sight from those in the village and fairly close to the woods. Oliver was back among us, a livid scar the only reminder of his folly. There were seven of us to man and sail the cutter, so under the guise of making sure we could survive another tidal wave across the island I ran drills.

We could not board the cutter as Caesar would become alarmed. He had a man on guard near the boat at all times and I didn't want anything changed before we took charge. I sat with the boys on the beach and walked them through the drill of raising the sails and trimming the boat. I would man the rudder and Erick would become our gunner.

After that last incident with the brig firing on us Caesar had mounted two brass swivel guns on the bow of the cutter. Small cannon though they were, they could throw a three pound ball or a handful of grape shot against the deck of a larger ship if necessary. I imagined they might be useful against any pirates who attempted to pursue us.

Now it was time to await the opportunity, and unfortunately it would have to be in daylight. The only access to the sea was through a narrow channel which was filled with sharp coral close by on either side. In daylight the reef could be seen, at night it would tear the bottom out of the cutter if we ventured too close. I would have much preferred to leave under the cover of darkness with the pirates fast asleep.

The other concern I had was the weather since summer was fast approaching and we would soon be in the time of storms. Mama assured me we would not have a repeat of last summer and that was small comfort. But the woman had become especially fond of me since the passing of my mother and allowed me certain freedoms.

I developed a toothache and she offered me a draught to help me sleep at night until I got past the pain, or had the tooth pulled by Wills. I thought to try her medicine and it knocked me right off my feet. I slept right through dawn, the first time I had ever done that.

I went to thank her for the relief and laughed about the potent results. She was kind enough to explain the herbal concoction, two simple ingredients and she showed them to me. I nodded and went off with thoughts in my head of immobilizing the entire pirate crew. But that proved unnecessary.

Our first summer storm and the crows nest reported a ship upon the distant reef. Caesar mobilized his forces and took the cutter along with four boats out to see what the ship had in her holds. The excitement rose when it became known that the ship was Spanish. Many of them carried a weight of gold and silver, Caesar's favorite catch. Not that I ever saw him spend any of the booty, but he could have financed his own country by now with all he had captured.

The Spanish brig had cannon but wisely chose not to fire them as Caesar circled cautiously. Since the diseased doctor he was now afraid to charge on in without examination. Of the eighty crew and sixty prisoners who had been on the island fully half had died of the fever, it left Caesar very short handed. Gunny manned the swivels and that left me alone at the tiller.

Caesar came within hailing distance and called out to the ship to identify herself. She was the Maria Rosa from Valparaiso and her captain asked Caesar of his intentions.

"I am here to claim your ship's cargo before you sink," Caesar called out.

"And what of my crew?" The Captain called back.

"You have not attempted to harm us, I will put you ashore until the next ship passes by," Caesar lied.

"We are at your mercy," The captain finally said.

"A wise man," Caesar said to his crew. "Spare their lives and put them to work."

I steered the cutter alongside the brig and Caesar nodded at me. Then his cutthroat crew boarded and disarmed those on the ship's deck. Our sail was down, and we were lashed to the brig when Caesar leaned over the side.

"Take officers and crew to beach and quick return. I give you two hands for rigging."

I saluted and he disappeared. Two of his crew dropped in the boat and the Spaniards came aboard. Their numbers were sufficient to take us if they so desired but they did nothing except sit on the deck in despair. The sail was set and I turned away towards the island.

I barely nosed the cutter against the beach and ordered the Spaniards off the boat. Oliver and Erick were on the beach with the other four boys awaiting their unloading duties. I motioned for Oliver to come close and smiled.

"I think the time has come, get prepared on the north beach. Quickly now before anyone gets suspicious," I said.

Oliver ran up the beach with Erick in tow. Their job was to grab the meager supplies we had stashed in the woods and fill the water barrel. If I made another return trip like this one it would be the last Caesar ever saw of his cutter. The four remaining boys on the beach helped push the cutter around and I took it back out to the brig.

Again Caesar allowed a dozen Spaniards to climb down, and then lowered several small chests of... well, I knew what was in them, the pleasure was written all over Caesar's face.

"Take chests to my house after landing," Caesar yelled down. "Do not forget."

I gave him the knuckle salute and he waved us off. The mainsail was reset and we turned away for the island. There were two of Caesar's crew aboard and they were the only real obstacle to our plans. But in placing three chests of gold onboard Caesar had provided me with the means to get rid of these men.

"Davis, you and Sharky should carry those up to Caesar's storeroom when we land. He'll cut our throats if we leave them on the beach," I said

"What's in them do you suppose?" Sharky asked. "They're mighty heavy." He was certainly a simpleton.

"If you don't know I won't tell you," I replied.

Davis roared with laughter and then whispered the answer in Sharky's ear. There were only my four boys on the beach now. I nosed the cutter into the sand and ordered the Spaniards out. Caesar's men would come to escort them up to the prison.

"Go on now, you take one of those chests and come back for the others," I said.

Sharky rubbed his hands together and reached for the handle. Davis was standing in water up to his waist and they grunted as the chest was lifted. They manhandled it over the side and I prayed they wouldn't drop it. I watched them struggle up the beach just as six more of Caesar's men came running down the beach towards the cutter. Damn.

I have very little understanding of the divine, and how we as supplicants to the Lord are often rewarded without even asking for something. But that knowledge wasn't necessary today for our prayers were answered. A pistol shot rang out from the crows nest, the alarm had been sounded.

"Where away?" I yelled, and then the answer became obvious. A ship was out there coming in fast towards the trapped brig. A warship by the number of masts I could see, and she would be upon us within the hour.

"To the boats," I yelled. "Quickly now, go get Caesar."

The six men who had come to escort the Spaniards obeyed my command and I smiled. Arie and the others stood agape by the side of the cutter.

"What are you waiting for? Let's turn this boat around, this is our chance," I yelled. I motioned to the Spaniards to help and a dozen hands helped turn the cutter around. "Jump aboard, boys, I need a crew."

The drills they had attended at my direction worked, Arie and Thomas went for the ropes and pulled up the mainsail, William and Lawrence tackled the bowsprit. The cutter topped the low breakers and turned east to run along the island. In just a few minutes Caesar would know I was not coming back for him. But right behind me the men were launching three of his boats. That action would serve to confuse and I hope make him think I was going to hide the cutter on the north side of the island as the warship loomed larger.

It would be a race to see who reached the brig first as the warship was now hull up on the horizon, I just hoped she didn't hit the reef herself. The cutter sped the length of the island and I turned towards the channel just as the warship boomed out a warning shot. We were far out of their range but the captain of that ship was asserting his power.

I held the cutter dead center in the channel and threw the tiller over as we cleared it. Immediately the sails began to flap, I was headed into the wind. I cursed my luck; I would have to tack before I could reach the pickup point on the beach. I turned the tiller and the sails filled once again as we sped away from the beach until I judged the maneuver sufficient to return.

I could see Oliver and Erick on the beach as we approached and once again heard the boom of the warship's challenge echoing across the island. I brought the cutter almost too close, but I did not seek to beach her this time. Oliver and Erick rolled two small barrels out into the gentle surf and pushed them towards us. I ordered the sails to be dropped.

We hauled the barrels of water and food aboard as a loud boom from the warship reminded me that we had to be away very quickly.

"The tools, we need the tools," Oliver said, standing up to his chest in water.

He was right of course, the bundle carrying the cutlasses, fishing implements and the axe lay upon the beach. Our survival might depend upon us having these things.

"Quickly, fetch them," I yelled. "Stand by the lines, be ready to raise the sails."

Together Oliver and Erick reached the beach and grabbed the sacks, they were just returning to the water when four of Caesar's men appeared, muskets in hand. The boys reached the cutter as the men opened fire upon us. Splinters of wood flew as we were struck and I heard Erick yell out in pain. But immediately there was a resounding boom as Arie fired one of the forward swivel guns which was loaded with grape shot.

Two of the four men on the beach went down and the other two turned tail and ran. We pulled Oliver aboard and carefully lifted Erick from the water. A musket ball had grazed his shoulder and his brother bound it with a piece of cloth torn from his shirt.

"Sails up," I yelled, and we were away.

I headed back towards the channel and saw the warship much too close for comfort. I didn't know her armament but at this distance even a long eighteen pounder would reach us in the channel. I cursed, knowing our plans were dashed. If anything the warship would fire upon us, they had no knowledge of our intentions.

"Look to the brig," Oliver yelled and we all turned that way.

Caesar's boats were all in the water making for the island. He would never catch the cutter and the warship would soon bottle them up. Another shot from the warship and Oliver yelled again.

"If it's a Spanish ship of the line; they carry thirty-six pounders... and a lot of them too."

A resounding boom and a ball landed at the entrance of the channel. If the ship had been English or American I would have taken our chances, but the Spanish were out for revenge, we would all be hung as pirates.

"Away west then, and God help us," I yelled.

"What's west?" Erick asked.

"I have no idea, Mexico probably," I replied.

"I thought we were going to Cuba," Oliver said.

"Right now we need to go where that warship cannot reach us," I replied. "Let them have fun with Caesar." And I turned the cutter west and into the unknown.