The Keepers of the Rose Page 2

A bitter sea tossed them about like a cork in a keg. Robert wondered if it would ever dissipate. The sky remained dark, blanketed with storm clouds and just as it would begin to clear another system would develop behind it and drench them again. Most of their voyage up the coast of America, coming back from the Caribbean, had been rough and he was becoming sick of it. He lost his patience as another deep swell knocked loose the quill he grasped and almost sent him reeling from his chair. The ship crashed down with a loud crack and a deep thump in response. He cursed as he straightened himself.

  “There’s no need for that,” Elaine said coming around behind him on surely placed feet. She gently laid her hands over his shoulders. They felt good kneading into the tense muscle. She had insisted on coming this time and when she made up her mind there wasn’t any way that he could convince her otherwise. They had been married for over ten years and had two boys. Unfortunately Robert hadn’t seen much of any of them recently and when he stopped in Portsmouth, Elaine made her wishes known. But though he allowed her on board, his boys stayed back, safe in Dover.

  “There is bloody need of curses now and again,” Robert bellowed. “Especially if I have to go up there and take control. Bastards can’t even hold a ship steady in a small storm. What would they do if ever they came across a real angry bitch of a squall, the likes I’ve been in, and my father when he sailed the Indies and beyond. They’d crumble with their ship. I should be climbing on deck before we see ourselves wrecked.” Robert rose from his chair and grabbed his cloak. Suddenly the door burst open and Cort stepped within, wiping a sheet of water from his brow.

  “We’re under attack Captain. They came on us unawares in the middle of the storm. One shot blew a hole in our side but nothing serious of the moment. We’ve managed to slide ahead of her but she trails us fast.”

  “What colors does she fly?”

  “Gold sir, with a single red rose in the middle, I saw it once before.”

  “Where?”

  “On the cover of the book we laid in the ground.”

  “Then our secret is out.” Robert pushed past Cort in a fury, his tails trailing him up the deck. Water from the crashing waves and heavy rain created a dense mist that soaked Robert the moment he set foot atop the boards. His sparse crew were running about without purpose, a few of the senior officers tried to bark orders but either they couldn’t be heard or lacked the balls to control the men. Robert’s black and gray hair plastered to his forehead, he wiped his eyes and grabbed the nearest man to him.

  “Calm the bloody hell down man. It’s only a storm and a ship.”

  “No Captain,” he stammered, “we saw their standard, it’s them little priests we killed, everyone says so. They want their stuff back. The dead rise up to take what’s theirs.” Robert threw the man to the ground and stalked off towards the helm. It was times like these he despised superstitious sailors. They always wanted the dead or sacrificed to take revenge upon them. Curses, rituals, he knew all men have their phantoms, but sailors and ship-hands more so than most. It was a clever guise though, he admitted, to wave a simple flag atop a mast and send ripples of doubt through the crew. Someone knew all too well what he’d been doing.

  The men sensed the presence of their Captain instantly and when Robert arrived at the helm he restored order in a matter of moments. Most of them feared his wrath far beyond ghosts or phantoms and before long they were cutting through the waves daring to ride the fierce wind at a blinding pace. The trailing ship attempted to match their speed. At infrequent intervals, the wind would slow and rain pause just enough to see the outline of their pursuers. It was a massive ship, the hull jutted out of the water piercing through the crashing waves, breaking the storm with what seemed like little effort.

  “Where’s Julian,” Robert asked Cort who followed him up and now stood next to him and his helmsman, a portly man called Red Ackart.

  Cort lowered his head, “Your quartermaster was knocked overboard in the attack, sir. There was no chance to retrieve him. He was lost to sight in moments.”

  “Unfortunate. Bring me Brice, he is to be promoted,” Robert said.

  “Can’t that wait until we are safely out of the storm and not pursued?”

  “I need a first,” Robert replied in a tone that left no room for argument. He moved away from the helm now secured in its heading and Red’s seamanship. He kept issuing orders as he walked the deck, helping where he could. But once he was able to still the fears that crept into his men, they seemed to gain control of their innate abilities. With what he had seen, he judged they should be able to outrun this larger ship without difficulty and disappear into the storm. That part didn’t worry him. It was the idea that someone knew and who was now in danger because of it.

  Robert headed back below deck when all was in order and shook off his coat and hung it up. He quickly started changing into dry clothing back inside his captain’s cabin. Elaine sat quietly in his chair. “Somebody knows,” he said.

  “I heard,” she replied. “What of our children Robert, are they safe?”

  “Yes,” he said. “Only the men I trust fully know of them, they are safe. But the book, the plate, us, safety isn’t yet fully realized. I’m changing course. We are now heading to the island first before stopping in Boston. I need to see the completion with my own eyes. Then we can forget all this and disappear.”

  “That sounds nice,” she replied softly.

  A heavy knock sounded on his door. “Enter,” Robert called. He just finished lacing up his breeches and was still shirtless. The door opened slightly and Brice Goudy stepped within. His shaved head glistened with a wet sheen and he dripped constantly onto the floor. He wasn’t much past five and twenty years if that, Robert considered. But he was well liked, smart, and a bloody good sailor. He would make a good quartermaster.

  “Brice, as you probably know Julian was swept into the sea during the brief attack.” He nodded. “You were his chosen second, I had my doubts, but he chose well.” Robert paused. “I now promote you to his position as quartermaster and all the duties and privileges that come with it. A nice pay increase as well.”

  A small smile briefly played across his features but he was too much of a friend to Julian to let it linger for long. “Thank you Captain.”

  “You’ve earned it, but know you are now responsible to report to me anything that is of concern about the ship, its cargo or its crew. I expect frequent updates.”

  “Yes, sir. Aye, Captain.”

  “I’ve always been of the habit to allow my first to choose a second. It has yet to fail me. So I give you that privilege as well.”

  “Thank you sir, I will choose wisely.”

  “One last thing, something I trust only to my first, and a few others I know well. As you know Elaine is my wife, but what you do not know is that we have two children. When we are free of the storm and lost to our pursuers, I will tell you who and where they are, for at some point I may need you to retrieve them for me. Julian agreed to this, will you?”

  “I will,” Brice replied.

  “Good, I will send for you then. Until that time, notify me if that ship comes any closer, and have the artillery at the ready.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Thank you Brice, that is all.” His new quartermaster spun and swiftly exited.

  “I like him,” Elaine said as he left. “He comes across as genuine and loyal.”

  Robert laughed, “In a sea as this, I’d rather have a fearless asshole. But I guess genuine and loyal will do.”

  The rain was the first to let up, but the wind still blew fierce and the waves continued to crash over the deck. His entire crew rolled with the ship, tired and cold, but in the distance blue skies gave a sense of hope at last and behind them only the ocean kissed their stern. As Robert had predicted, they were able to lose their pursuers in the storm.

  Up the coast of America they traveled, keeping clear
of other vessels and passing the busy port cities. Just three days after they moved beyond Boston, Nova Scotia’s shoreline appeared on the horizon. The lush green sprung clear even from a distance and the rolling hills climbed steeply from the rocky beaches. The sky was losing light as dusk quickly approached sending shades rarely seen to speckle and color the land. Robert had to watch for a moment to take it in.

  They quietly sailed around the end and then almost half the island before spotting the smaller piece of land lying just off shore. Robert had them anchor and ready the long boats. Brice came up next to him as he gazed towards the island. “Captain?”

  “Yes Brice,” he answered.

  “We’re ready to shove off to Oak Island.”

  “What did you call it?”

  “Oak Island.”

  “Why Oak Island, may I ask?”

  “For the tree Captain, that marks the spot.”

  “I like it.”

  “Well the crew’s been calling it that for awhile.”

  “Then Oak Island it shall become.”

  “Are you coming ashore, Captain?”

  “No, I pray the work is completed, bring the boats over and ferry the men back here. When I have word from Adox and Francis, I will know we can leave.”

  “Where to then?”

  “Boston, I have a few things to put in order there, and then back to Portsmouth. After that, I know not, mayhap nowhere.” Brice gave a slight look of dismay. “Worry not my new quartermaster, when this venture has come to a close, you will be well rewarded.” That brought him back to high spirits.

  The long boats ran ashore and it took a few hours for all the men, equipment, and stray gear to be gathered together and brought on board. He instructed to leave no trace of their presence on the island. He stood on the deck and watched the final loads come in. The beach they shoved off from appeared natural, though only months before it had been damned and dug. Now, he knew, they were stacked with multiple layers of material to filter out any sediment that could clog his tunnels and then finally covered with rock and sand to seem natural. Francis designed this aspect and it looked flawless from a distance. The pit on the island was dug and layered, planks at evenly spaced meters, metal layers to impede progress and rigged caverns to fill with water and collapse. It was perfect.

  The brothers were the final two to leave the island. When they made it to the deck, two broad smiles greeted him. Arrogance played on their faces, a good trait to have in an engineer.

  “Captain, we weren’t expecting you so soon,” Francis held out his hand and Robert clasped it tight.

  “We had a change of plans, I’m glad to see you’re finished early, is everything in place?”

  “It was as though we were never there. Our systems work flawlessly. Only with precise knowledge will your items ever be found.” Adox made this statement as he set down a large wooden helmet.

  “And the beaches,” he questioned.

  “Perfect. They’ll keep the inquisitive at bay,” Francis replied.

  Robert smiled. It was done. He took a deep breath, “now I suppose you are looking to be paid the last amount my father promised.”

  “At your leisure, Captain,” Adox said humbly.

  “Very good. I have one stop to make in port of Boston, and then I’m heading back to Dover. From there, I will see you safely home to New York and you will have what was promised.” Robert dismissed them with a nod. The brothers left quickly and disappeared below decks. He’d have to watch them for some time after this was done, they were ambitious and his secrets, now out, may go to the highest bidder. He thought of having them killed, but that would be ill received by the rest of the crew, and he could have a mutiny should they think he planned on doing each of them next. In the end he decided against it. He would continue with the course set out, and play each individual accordingly. He would watch them and listen.

  They set sail immediately for Boston and as night fell around them, Robert found himself thinking of the ship in the storm. He hadn’t given it much thought until now, in the dark with his task completed. Elaine rolled over next to him. She had fallen asleep a few hours before. Robert had too much on his mind to join her. He couldn’t determine who it could be that followed him and knew of his task. Surely it was nothing of his doing. The fault, most likely, would lie squarely on his father’s shoulders. He had rubbed elbows in the past with some venomous individuals. Perhaps he had spilled this venture to one of them. Mayhap they were just after the gold. But then, he wondered, why the flag?

  He decided to let it go. In truth, there were a great many pieces involved and he may not even be able to retrace all his steps. He needn’t worry about that any longer. He closed his eyes and tried to think of something different, to dream of a life without such burden.

  When they sailed within view of Boston, the harbor teemed with energy. A great number of ships were drifting just off shore and docks were filled with the bustling of eager merchants. Robert carefully unloaded only a single crate thin enough to tuck under his arm and rowed inland. He left only a handful of men to keep watch over the ship. The rest of the crew was given shore leave and a good amount of coin to spend in the city. Robert announced he would be leaving in two days and any that wanted to come to Portsmouth should be on board ready to depart. If they wished to stay in Boston, he would pay them their final wage and wish them well.

  Robert, Elaine, and Cort purchased a carriage for the day were soon trotting through the cobbled streets on their way to an old acquaintance, Josiah Franklin. He was a good friend of his father and also supplied the soap and candles for Robert’s own voyages at a good price. On their way, they briefly stopped to purchase enough fruit, bread, and cheese for a small breakfast and continued on.

  As suspected, Josiah was working as Robert arrived. He stooped over a low table recording a recent order. A young boy of maybe fourteen was standing next to him. Josiah smiled when he recognized Robert.

  “Mr. Ryder,” he said standing up. Josiah Franklin was one of the few that knew him as the sole son of the now infamous Captain Kidd, though his father never claimed him in right. But that was fine by him. His father’s title would have him followed for information on his legendary wealth, whereas his mother’s name of Ryder drew with it no special attention.

  “Josiah, it is good to see you,” he said. The man was past sixty now and his age was beginning to show. Wrinkles adorned his face in loose creases and his hair was beginning to thin and had turned almost completely white. But he was an honest and trustworthy man, and wouldn’t accept coin that he didn’t earn. Robert intended on giving him what he deserved this time around.

  “What brings you back to Boston? Surely not just to see me. There are plenty who know my trade well enough,” he moved slowly.

  “Actually, it is just to see you my old friend. I have something important I wish to put in your capable hands. I need someone I know will keep it safe, keep it well, and someone who is a good judge of character.” Robert touched Cort on the shoulder and his friend placed the box they brought with them on the desk. Then, his master at arms and his wife slipped outside and shut the door.

  “Does this have to do with your father?” Josiah asked hesitantly as he put a hand on the boy’s back. Anything to do with Captain Kidd was spoken in low voices.

  “Do you mind if I ask the boy to leave?”

  “This is my son, Benjamin,” he replied, “he is capable of keeping secrets, and he has a good head.”

  “I have no doubt of that,” Robert looked down at the boy and met his eyes. “But a small leak can sink a great ship.”

  Josiah nodded, “Benjamin, go back to your brother, you are done with me for today,” he said. The boy didn’t move, but just looked up at Robert.

  “You should allow me to stay, for my father is old and if he is to forget what you speak of, I may remind him later.” Robert grinned. The boy was a bor
n politician, though too smart.

  “Benjamin!” Josiah’s voice rose in anger and the boy flinched backwards. Robert held up his hand.

  “Benjamin,” Robert said softly, “remember this and it will serve you well. Would you persuade, speak of interest, not of reason. Most men you meet don’t know reason and never will.” Reluctantly Benjamin backed away and left out the rear door leaving Josiah and Robert alone.

  “I apologize for him,” Josiah said as his son left.

  “There is no need my friend, in truth I see much potential in him. Keep his mind occupied, let it not linger in laziness. He will make you proud some day.”

  “He is very independent and has some inventive ideas. But you are not here to talk of my son.”

  “No I am not,” Robert became serious. “I have hidden something of my father’s, something that potentially is invaluable and I know you for a trustworthy friend. You are not but a common citizen and so no eyes will be laid upon you in suspect as such. I bequeath to you the only written cipher to a real treasure of information. The map this belongs to will not be found for many years, if even then. I need this to survive in the hands of an honest and trustworthy individual, at all times. There are specific rules to this that need be followed. I ask that you accept this offer and I will pay you for their keeping.”

  Josiah looked burdened. “There is surely another,” he said. “I am old, not the man to shoulder this responsibility.”

  “You are perfect my friend. None other would I or my father trust more.”

  He took a deep breath, wheezing as he blew out. “If I do this, I need to know what it is I am keeping, what it is that is hidden?”

  Robert thought he might ask. He also knew to entrust such things to one man he would have to answer, though vaguely. “Very well,” he said. “In almost three hundred years, this world will see change.” Josiah settled into a chair while Robert slowly recounted most of the final charge that his father set him to keep.

  As Robert shut the door behind him, Elaine and Cort were resting on the wagon. The sun had moved a good distance and morning had turned into late afternoon. The unending lines of buildings and shops hurdled long shadows onto the walkways, making for dizzying patterns.

  “That took longer than I thought,” his wife said as he sat beside her.

  “It was expected,” he replied. “He knows everything and my task is now done. Fate holds what it will, I have wiped my hands clean.” He looked at her and smiled. It was true, everything that his father had entrusted to him was complete. Now he could focus his life’s energy on Elaine and his two sons, the people he most cared about and who, for too long, had come second to his task. She looked more beautiful than ever.

  Cort also seemed more at ease. He was even whistling a tune as he drove the carriage through the streets. Of course it could be that when they were to return, he would be set for his life financially. Robert would see to that. Cort knew too much to let him loose with little silver, if he were ever to become poor, his secrets would be for sale. As with much of his crew that knew the location of Oak Island, his father’s wealth would see to them as well. But there were only six that knew the specific direction, the rest were blinded by what their eyes had seen. They would be cheaper, for their information was worth far less.

  When they came to a stop near the docks, Robert immediately sensed that something was wrong. People made wide berth around them. Others huddled in small groups to whisper and peer over their shoulders.

  “Careful Robert, something’s amiss” he heard Cort say as he swung down from the carriage.

  “What is it,” his wife asked.

  Robert slowly put his hand to the pistol at his waist, “We’ve been found,” he said. “Look,” he pointed out into the harbor. Anchored near to his ship was the one that chased them in the storm just days before, only now it brandished an absence of any flag atop its mast. “But they’re too late,” he almost laughed, they would never find a thing aboard the ship and his package was already delivered here in Boston.

  He saw his quartermaster, Brice, lingering a short distance away. He started coming towards them, but Robert shot him a glare that paused his gait. They made eye contact and soon after Brice gave a reluctant nod and hurried off. Robert had planned for this and he had full confidence that Brice would follow his orders perfectly.

  “Where’s Brice going,” Cort whispered.

  “He will fire the ship so that none of the crew returns to it and then retrieve my children. In my study in my home in Dover, behind the portrait atop my desk, he’ll find instructions on what to do with my wealth and where it lies. Adox and Francis will get their share and they know to proceed as though I died before returning to the island. Then he’ll pay the rest of the crew for their silence and disappear.”

  “What’s to become of us,” Cort asked.

  “I do not know,” Robert smiled at his friend. “But it’s about to happen.”

  He watched Brice get lost in the sea of people, knowing his children’s future rested in good hands. What had Elaine said, genuine and loyal? She was usually a good judge of character. Robert looked out to the darkening horizon and led Cort and Elaine slowly towards the pier.

  “Captain Robert Ryder,” a man shouted behind them amongst the sound of running feet. When Robert turned around, a group of ten men stood together. He heard more footsteps from his side and still more sliding behind them.

  “Yes, sir, how may I assist you,” he said to the one who had spoken. The man was small and light, his frame more akin to a lady. He strode forward in complete confidence, a small pistol strapped tightly to his belt, but he made no move for it. His hair fell to his shoulders, he couldn’t be more than thirty, though carried himself as a seasoned commander. Robert stood calmly.

  The man stopped a few paces away. “Or should I address you as Captain Robert Kidd?”

  “You may address me as you please, for it appears as though I have no choice in the matter.” Robert said. He noted Cort’s leg wasn’t shaking at this interaction. How odd, he thought. Spirits of no presence made him quake with fear whereas his own death mere moments away gave him no pause.

  “I want the book and plate Captain. Where are they hidden?” He stared, unflinching.

  “And I want your name sir, but I doubt I’ll get that in respect to your sour greetings.”

  “I am Methias Griffin, a keeper of the rose. I am charged with gaining what you have stolen.”

  “Why may I ask, for it is not yours to have?”

  “We know what it holds and wish to keep it safe.”

  “I assure you it is,” Robert replied.

  “Not until we have it, are its secrets secured,” he backed off a few steps to rejoin his men. “You should know, I intend to have its location by any means I need take.”

  That meant torture. Robert knew immediately, the threat was clear enough. Elaine squeezed his hand. They would torture her as well, he knew. He felt her lean towards his ear, “I know too much darling, they will not let me go, but I will stay strong in this, that much I promise you,” she whispered and her words pierced his heart.

  Ahead of him, Methias drew a long, thin, sword from one of his men and started back towards them, only this time the whole group followed, closing as a noose around a fragile neck. Robert shifted and breathed deeply, he held out his hand and Methias paused, mid stride.

  “You will not have my secrets,” Robert said, “by my tongue or any other.” Robert turned around unleashing the knife at his belt and quickly cut through the air biting into Cort’s flesh. A small red line opened below the man’s chin and his eyes lazily rolled back into his head. Robert then quickly turned and kissed Elaine, smashing his lips strongly into her own. They parted softly, lingering for a moment before they found her ear, “forgive me,” he whispered. Slowly he backed away leaving the blade of his knife buried in her heart. He held her gently a
s she sank to the ground, telling her he loved her and that their sons would be safe.

  He turned back around when she stilled and stared at Methias. His smile from before had faded to a thin line. “Good luck,” Robert said and raised his loaded pistol, pressing it firmly against his head.

  Chapter 1

  Guatemala, February 2012