Pirate Blood. Eugenio Pochini
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he should be used to it. So, what is upsetting him?
His own fancy answered him. Bennet Avery is a pirate, John. Haven’t you understood it yet? The rumours about him are true. He was on board the Queen Anne’s Revenge. He might know the prisoner!
His wondering was covered up by the crowd rejoicing in agreement. Someone was exalting the governor’s arrival. Morgan came out of the carriage, followed by another person. The two men walked up the steps leading to the elevated area in the square.
“Some people will never change”, Avery grumbled disgusted.
Johnny didn’t seem to understand. “What do you mean?”
“Before turning to politics”, the other man explained, “the governor was an unscrupulous pirate.” His previous anxiety was wiped away by a spiteful mask. “He never hesitated to kill the members of his own crew. As far as cruelty was concerned, he came just after Edward Teach.” When he uttered that name, he was shaken by a shiver that the boy could only see quickly. “The guy behind him is called Woodes Rogers. He is a corsair. He is famous for being one of the fiercest pirate hunters.”
“So, why are they together?”
“Gold can work miracles.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“You will have to learn that too”, Avery stated sadly. “Lots of men lost their lives trying desperately to amass wealth. That’s a disease which can’t be healed.”
Johnny nodded in agreement. He understood what he meant, even if he had never had anything to do with money. When his father was running the trade company, he was too young to understand its value. Now the few coins he was able to spare looked like a treasure themselves.
“They are going to start”, the old man stated. “That is the hangman.”
A bully had turned out from one of the huts, followed by a young man who was slinging a drum over his shoulder. He greeted the governor and his guest nodding slightly. He then climbed the stairs with some trouble.
A whisper went through the spectators, like a growing wave. The drum started rolling and three soldiers came out of a second building. The last one was escorting a worn-out man, dressed in rags. He had a bad limp, his hands were tied behind his back, his oily hair was covering his face. Most of his body was marked by deep wounds and some of them were bleeding.
The crowd started laughing and making a din and someone threw vegetables at him. A man even threw a stone, which hit the prisoner’s forehead. He staggered and almost fell down, then he recovered his balance and lifted his face towards the crowd.
“Walk on!”, a guard shouted at him.
“Bastard!”, the crowd echoed him.
The prisoner was escorted under the gallows at a slow and limping pace, then he was forced to stop. The young man stopped rolling his drum. One of the soldiers stood at attention, unrolled a parchment and started reading. “For His Majesty’s and the Jamaican governor, sir Henry Morgan’s will, the present Emanuel Wynne has been sentenced to death by hanging. He is accused of murder, thief, kidnapping and piracy.”
The last word made the spectators turn into a wild frenzy, so that Johnny even started fearing for his own life. He realized that those people were in a fit of fury he had never witnessed before. They were all shouting, with no difference in sex and age. Many of them were even rushing to the stairs, to lynch the pirate by themselves. The soldiers were forced to take their weapons out and push the rioters back.
That’s what Avery meant, he thought. They want to see him dead. All at once. They don’t care about anything else.
“How do you claim yourself?”, the soldier asked, turning to Wynne. That was an ordinary question, simple and expected, and the answer wasn’t going to change things.
The pirate didn’t answer.
“May God have mercy of your soul”, the man finished. He sheathed the parchment and cast a glance at the governor, who answered by waving his hand lazily.
Wynne was forced to walk up without wasting any more time. When he was half way, his legs turned shaky and he almost slipped backwards. The audience shouted in protest. One of the soldiers grasped him and forced him to go on.
“His fate is settled”, Johnny considered sadly. “Why are they so pitiless against him?”
He waited for Avery to speak, taking his involvement for granted. As he got no answer, he turned to look at him.
He was puzzled by what he could see.
The old man eyes were so bright that they were almost reflecting the sunlight. He was holding back his tears just because he didn’t want to show himself in that condition.
Meanwhile, Wynne had got to his destination and had been left in the hangman’s hands. Dozens after dozens of voices were croaking their scorn once more, followed by a more powerful rolling of drums. Kane placed the prisoner on the trapdoor carefully and tightened the slipknot around his neck. Everything was still, even the air. Also the far-away washing of the waves had calmed down.
The French man took all the spectators by surprise at that moment. He burst out laughing loudly, overcoming the noise of the drum and of the crowd below. It was as if a cannon had fired not far from there.
“That’s how they are repaying me for having told them where the greatest treasure the world has ever seen is hidden!”, he shouted.
An icy silence fell over Fort Charles. There wasn’t any sign left of the folly which had spurred the pirate’s brain. Even Morgan looked shocked about that, his mouth wide-open with an idiot look.
“Governor”, Wynne addressed him, “where have you put the map I drew up to get to the Devil’s Triangle?”
An excited yelling started spreading through the crowd. Just like many other people, Johnny turned to look at Morgan: under the white paleness of his make-up, he could notice a slight blush of uneasiness and anger appearing on his face. He then glanced back at Avery. Before his eyes met the old man’s ones, he noticed someone else’s shape, not far from where they were standing.
He was the pirate with golden teeth.
The boy staggered, as if someone had punched him in his stomach. The man was focused on listening to Wynne’s words. For just a moment, Johnny was sure he even saw him smile lightly.
“Why has he come?”, he mumbled. He got absolutely sure and was able to dispel all his doubts: that man was making him feel breathlessly scared.
“What did you say?”, Avery asked him.
“Over there…” Those words died in his throat. The guy had vanished. Johnny looked frantically for him, searching carefully the sea of heads surrounding him. He couldn’t find him anywhere.
Meanwhile Wynne kept shouting: “If my fate is going to hell, better to hurry up!”
Morgan seemed to wake up from his indolence. He started shouting orders, but nobody was able to do much. Wynne had finished by bursting out laughing even more powerfully for the second time, increasing the spreading mess which had got hold of the fortress.
“Kane!”, he screamed. “The trapdoor! Open that damned trapdoor, silly idiot! What are you waiting for?”
The hangman grasped the machine lever and pulled it. A series of sounds followed each other very quickly. Wynne then hurtled down, keeping kicking and swinging in mid-air. In spite of the violent rebound, his neck hadn’t broken. Not only that. Even if he was choking, he didn’t stop laughing his heart out. His face started turning purple and his tongue came out of his mouth. He bit it till he tore it apart. A gush of blood stained his lips and cheeks, just like the petals of a blossoming rose.
“Let someone stop him!”, Morgan shouted, joining the frenzy of the people watching that havoc.
Only the man next to