Black Sam - Prince of Pirates

Forty-Eight - THE EXCHANGE

Forty - Eight - THE EXCHANGE

March 1717

The cargo hold of The Whydah Gally was far beyond capacity with men, women, and children clustered into groups leaving small spaces for the care of the sick, in whatever way they could under such horrific conditions.

The company men prepared the human cargo for the trading grounds. A short pudgy little man stood over a large pot of rice just outside the hold. It was old and crawling with maggots. He scooped it out into the anxious hands of the starving prisoners reaching through the bars. “Eat up, we need you fat to fetch a decent price.”

Another company man, tall and skinny, unlocked the cell door and entered the hold with a scarf covering his mouth and nose. He picked up the feet of a lifeless body and dragged it out of the clutching hands of a desperate woman. Her face was blank and covered with dried tears. She reached out for the body but was beat back by two other company men who had just entered.

“This one’s been dead a while,” the skinny man said with no emotion at all.

A bald company man waved the skinny one on. “Take it then.” He and a man with long blond hair grabbed the woman who had been holding the dead body and bound her in chains. They put chains on another woman that had been sitting by her and took them topside. On the top deck sat several other slaves also in shackles and chains. Two company men stood by with swords in hand.

The skinny man dragged the body over to the railing, where another man helped him throw it overboard.

Prince, who had been standing by his pilot, turned away from the scene. He stood next to a dark haired man and leaned against the stern rail. They watched Cyprian who was still close on his tail. “What do you think, Jackson?”

“We’ll never out run him, he’s too fast.”

Prince pulled out his scope and looked forward. A small island sat off in the distance. “It can’t come fast enough,” he said under his breath.

***

Before Prince had a chance to finish securing the mooring lines, the company men had the first of the slaves marching down the gangplank and headed toward the trading compound. Their efficiency was just about the only thing he liked about the company men, that and the fact that they left him alone to do his job, for the most part. It was no problem returning the favor. The more he got to know them, the more he wanted to distance himself from them.

The next group of slaves walked down the gangplank, steered by company men. One slave broke free of the group but was quickly caught, whipped, beaten, and placed back in line. Prince watched the next group with a bit more curiosity. He recognized a man, woman, and three young children, two girls and a boy. He remembered seeing them in Africa, tied up to posts and on sale to the highest bidder. Prince deduced that they were a family and the company men thought they could fetch a better price by keeping them together.

The company commander stopped the other company men and halted the group. After a brief conversation, the commander took hold of the eldest girls arm and dragged her away. She screamed furiously and gave the commander a fight but it was in vain.

Prince ran down the stairs onto the forward deck. “Commander,” he yelled. Two burly company men grabbed him. “This is not your concern,” one of them said with a deep voice. They pushed him back, holding pistols aimed at him.

The male slave who Prince took to be the girl’s father broke free from the others and ran toward the girl. The company commander turned just as the slave hit him with all the momentum of his muscular body and knocked him across the deck several feet. He then bent down and held the girl, shielding her from harm.

A gunshot startled the slave and he looked back toward the rest of his people. A company man held a pistol to the mother of the family. The father froze and the commander slammed the butt of his musket into the back of the male slave’s head, knocking him unconscious.

Prince climbed back up the steps as two company men dragged the slave along with the others toward the trading grounds.

The commander held the young girl from running after her family.

Prince took off his hat and slammed it onto the upper deck. “How old do you think she is, Jackson?” Prince asked.

“Couldn’t be more than thirteen, fourteen tops,” Jackson replied.

Prince shook his head. “How long have we been working for the crown, five years?” Prince asked.

Jackson shook his head. “A little more than four.”

Prince bore his eyes into the commander. “It feels like ten.”

Jackson picked up the captain’s hat and held it. “It does indeed, sir.”

“Captain,” Prince scoffed. “How can I hold that title when I don’t have control of my own ship?”

“You’re a captain to the men, sir, that’s all that matters.”

Prince took his hat from Jackson. “Maybe I should break protocol and have a little chat with him.”

Jackson shook his head. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”

Prince turned around and looked over at Cyprian’s ship docked nearby. “I’m going to take a walk.” He turned back to the girl. “Keep an eye on her,” Prince said walking away.