Pirates of the Caribbean: Barbossa and the King's Messenger (Book 1)

The King's Messenger

Chapter Twenty Two - The King's Messenger

Barbossa spoke not a word to Pintel and Ragetti, but nodded sharply at the longboat. To me, he remarked, "Ye can get ashore unseen in this fog, but mind not t' lose yer way; I don't like the look of it."

"I could walk Pencarren blind-folded," I assured him, wanting but not daring to offer him a farewell embrace.

As the men lowered the boat to the waterline, I threw my sack aboard, and handed my letter to Barbossa, who, although caught off-guard, accepted it. I climbed down the ladder into the longboat, and Pintel and Ragetti rowed me to shore. Although I had spoken confidently to Barbossa, I was greatly relieved when at last I could make out the shadowy angles of the quays emerging from the thick fog. As Pintel and Ragetti drew the boat up on the shingle, I made a request that surprised them.

"You must promise to meet me here tomorrow, just after sunset, and take me back to the Pearl," I told them.

"Take you back to the Pearl?" said Pintel. "Is that part of the plan?"

"Right, wot part of the plan is that?" echoed Ragetti.

"It IS part of the plan! Promise me!" I insisted, raising my voice, which made both pirates look about nervously to discover whether there was anyone lurking within earshot.

Ragetti was not convinced. Ignoring me, he turned to Pintel and said,"P'raps we should ask Cap'n Barbossa."

We were losing precious time whilst their dithering continued, and now my temper snapped. "Devil take the both of you!" I swore through my teeth. "Captain Barbossa will have your guts for garters and I'll stitch them with my own hand, if you don't give me your word right this minute!"

Both men looked alarmed, but nodded agreement. They were becoming increasingly uneasy, for the Pearl had quite disappeared into the rolling fog bank. "Don't fail me!" I warned them with a scowl.

I turned and ran up the shingle to the post house without a backward glance. Slipping down the row of tethered horses, I chose a fell pony, cut the post bags off of him, and, untethering him, leapt into the saddle. I departed town at a noisy gallop over the granite cobblestones, leaving the fog behind for the pitch-darkness of the turnpike road, with the scattered shouts and distant alarums of a few townspeople ringing in my ears.

Riding east towards Plymouth, I imagined I heard the word "Bodmin" over and over in the rhythmic clopping of my pony's hooves. I was uneasy, almost spellbound, knowing that in the blackness stretching away to the northeast lay the desolate moor where my father had met his end, in a design brought about by his own brother. Farther to the east, and heavy on my heart, lay Launceston, where Barbossa had faced the double perils of hanging and gaol fever, and Rufus had reluctantly buried the last mortal remains of Marianne Bitter. I rejoiced when at last I spied the lights of Plymouth, and could leave the haunted countryside behind me.

I pulled up my exhausted pony, took out the King's Messenger badge, and hung it about my neck. As I approached the building where the King was staying, I garnered many strange looks from his soldiers, but when they spied the silver greyhound pendant on its blue ribbon, they let me pass unimpeded.

I gave my name and that of my father to the page. He told me to wait, and departed, to announce me to King George.

As I waited, I rehearsed again the arguments in favour of my proposals. From some distant chamber, I heard an angry voice, and recollected my father remarking that King George was a man with a famously sharp temper. And I've disturbed his rest, I thought, nervously.