Man of Fortune: The Further Adventures of Philip Rake (The Molucca Star Quartet Book 3) by Thorndycroft Chris

Author:Thorndycroft, Chris
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-09-02T00:00:00+00:00

Part 3 – Honduras, The Carolinas, and Nassau - January 1718 – November 1718

We spent New Year at Martinique, carousing with friends of La Buse and wondering what might be going on at Nassau. Had they received word of the King’s pardon? They must all be wondering, as I was, if it was worth remaining on the wrong side of the law when offered a clean slate. La Buse was sceptical that Hornigold’s dream for a pirate republic would survive for much longer and talked of sailing to Brazil in the new year.

I wanted to find Ned Thache and see what he thought of the whole thing. If too many pirates went legitimate, then Nassau was doomed as La Buse predicted. But if enough men like Thache remained under the black, then we had a chance. Being an ex-privateer, I wondered if he would be drawn to the pardon and a return to privateering for the Crown but then, he had changed over the course of the previous year; we had all seen it. He revelled in the freedom of owing allegiance to no nation and that is a hard thing to give up. Besides, Thache was a Jacobite and, although he had fought for Queen Anne, he was unlikely to be content as a tool for ‘German George’.

In January, La Buse headed south while I set out in search of Thache. We sailed north along the curve of the Virgin Islands, following Spanish reports of 'the Great Devil’ who was plundering their ships as he made his way towards Cuba. We took a Spanish merchant in early February who had already been looted and its terrified crew told us that ‘El gran diablo’ was on his way to the Gulf of Mexico on the trail of an English galley called the Royal Prince.

We set the trembling Spaniards on their way and sailed west for the Americas. It took us until late March to find Thache anchored at an atoll called Turneffe Island; a collection of cays and mangrove swamps circling a large lagoon about twenty miles off the coast of Belize Town. Here we saw the massive hulk of what could only be La Concorde and the usual collection of tents and palmetto hovels on the shore signifying a pirate camp.

“Look at the size of that thing!” Walters remarked as we entered the lagoon. “No wonder the Spaniards are in a deep funk!”

“There’s a sloop anchored next to it,” I said. “But it’s not the Revenge.”

Thache’s crew recognised us which was fortunate for I had the utmost sympathy for anybody who stumbled across that massive frigate and wasn’t a friend. We sailed in under its guns and rowed ashore to a thunderous greeting from Thache. He was somehow even more imposing than when I last saw him and the rumours about his beard weren’t lies. It was massive, long and tangled like the mane of some wild beast into which he had tied scarlet ribbons.

“Rake, blast you!” he roared. “How did you find me?”

“You left something of a trail, Ned,” I said.

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