Muddied Waters - Coda

Chapter Sixteen - Trials and Tribulations

It was in the dead of night that the Hercules limped her way back into Kingston's harbor, followed closely by her captors. The crew had allowed boarding without a fight, Quintana making a swift surrender to the English and agreeing to be escorted back to Jamaica under an interim Navy captain. A waning gibbous moon lit up the sky as Teague disembarked the Spanish galleon for the last time, recognizing the other two English ships from the flotilla as he walked along the main dock. Men were working hard, unloading barrels from the warship while the empty civilian vessel prepared to move back out into the harbor. Tired sailors rolled barrel after barrel from the ship, stacking them in a large pile just off the wharf. One of the men lost control of his barrel and it spun down the loading planks, landing on the dock and cracking open, spilling its contents.

"Sugar?!" he heard a sailor exclaim. "I thought Livingston donated powder, what in the hell are we supposed to do with sugar?"

Teague walked past the pile of already-unloaded barrels as frantic soldiers began to open them and confirm that the warship had indeed been fully laden with the sweet grain rather than weaponry. Curses and exclamations abounded amid the general din of confusion and frustration.

"Fer chrissake," Teague's escort said, shaking his head at the mess, "this is going to set us back weeks."

"Shipping troubles?" the ex-pirate asked, looking back.

"Aye, you can say that. Unless you know of a way to blast a cannon using fucking sugar."

Teague looked out for Quintana as he was led to his confines and was unable to locate the quartermaster along the way. They seemed to be keeping the Hercules' crew separated in a large inn near the bay acting as their luxurious prison with each room's door locked and sentries posted in the hallways and common area. As Teague was introduced to his space and the door was shut and locked behind him, he sat down on the fresh linens of his bed and ran his hand along them.

"I'd better enjoy this now," he said to himself wryly, "my next bed is going to be much less comfortable."

As soon as the authorities confirmed each member of the Hercules through her ship's log, they would come across Teague's name and realize who he was. A Spanish pardon did not equate to an English one, especially if it had already been taken once before. Teague's comeuppance loomed ahead of him. There was nowhere else to run. Rather than dwell on his impending doom, he yawned mightily, crawled underneath the covers, and slept better than he had in years.

He awoke long after morning had broken to a soldier unlocking his door and ordering him to get up and get dressed. While he had been led unbound to the inn, he was escorted back out in chains and straight to Kingston's courthouse.

"So, the infamous Jackson Teague," said the bespectacled officer behind his large desk as the ex-pirate stood at attention, "it seems you have finally been caught. Did you think King George had forgotten about you?"

"Don't remember ever meeting him," replied Teague flippantly. He would be damned if he'd beg this man for his life. It's what the officer clearly wanted, and Teague knew that no amount of groveling could change his fate.

"I see," said the commander with a hint of disappointment. "Well, between you and I, this is a foregone conclusion, but I am compelled to give you your trial. So, if you have anything to say to me now that might help your case, I strongly suggest you do so."

"I have nothing to say, mate."

"Your Spanish friends cannot help you."

"I know."

"Alright then," the officer said, waving Teague away. As the guard grabbed his arm, Teague turned back to the captain.

"What of Teo Quintana and his crew?" he asked.