"We need to throw his body overboard," Herbert said after some time.
"Through the portholes on the gun deck. The waves and the storm will cover the noise."
The two nodded and went to work. Edward took John's shirt and tied it around the open wound to limit the blood dripping before he picked up the body. Herbert did his best to soak up the blood using some nearby rags. Their only bit of fortune was the darkness of the hold, and the usual rankness of the bilge just beneath them that would cover the smell. Herbert moved some of the cargo overtop of what remained of the blood and joined Edward near the ladder.
"You head up first and check for any remaining crewmates."
Herbert nodded and climbed up to the next deck. After a moment, Herbert called Edward up. Edward flung John's body over his shoulder and climbed the ladder. He trusted Herbert, but before coming all the way up, he glanced over the deck before he finished the climb.
Herbert went over to the nearest porthole with a cannon nearby at the ready. He pulled on a rope to the side, which opened the port. The noise of the frantic crew above was able to filter in, and it sent a wave of urgency into Edward's mind. The sound could draw attention, and it wasn't what they needed right now.
Edward lifted John's body to the small hole. Water from the crashing waves and the fresh beginnings of rain flew into the ship and splashed Edward as he pushed the young man's lifeless body through the hole. Inch by inch, he shoved and twisted and moved the body through. Herbert also did his best to help while he kept a lookout.
"Hurry, Ed."
"I'm going as fast as I can. These weren't meant for bodies."
Edward felt sweat dripping from his brow, and with each shove, he glanced over his shoulder towards the bow of the ship.
"Almost there," Herbert called, forcing Edward's attention back to the task.
With one final push, the body fell out of the porthole. Herbert tossed out the bloody rags he'd taken with him from the hold, then Edward and Herbert both craned their necks to listen for the splash of the body, but heard none. Edward poked his head out, but couldn't see the body, which meant he was gone, lost in the waves of the storm.
Edward pulled himself in, let out a sigh, and sat down with his back against the wall of the deck. Herbert closed the porthole, and he too let out a sigh as he wiped the sweat off his brow.
After a moment to catch his breath, Edward tensed up again, and he checked his surroundings.
"What?" Herbert asked, anxious.
Edward saw no one nearby, and no eyes on them. "Nothing, just checking. It's over."
"No… it's not," Herbert said, his expression serious. Edward looked at him, still catching his breath. "We need to get above deck, and we can't leave it like this. No one else is below deck anymore. If we head above deck but Grace doesn't see John with us and then he's missing after the storm what do you think Grace will believe happened? Remember what happened to Nigel when he only attempted to kill us?"
"What do we do about it then?" Edward asked, but he had a sinking feeling he knew the answer already.
Herbert leaned over, his head underneath the tip of the cannon. "You need to kill some of the other crewmates during the storm. Otherwise, we'll be the ones joining Davey Jones."
Edward looked away from Herbert. He'd barely had enough time to process how he'd just killed John over a presumption that the young man would tell their tale to Grace. He hadn't even thought about it before the blade had been in his hands. Now, he had to kill again.
The storm outside had already begun, but there was another storm brewing inside, and despite the warning signs, there was no changing course to avoid it.
13. Striking Down the Bell of Death
"There it is," Victoria said as she peered through the spyglass.
Anne took out her own spyglass. On the other end of that magnified view, she could see the main town where Silver Eyes waited. It was like a small fort with wooden walls stretching the length to form a stockade and battlements on the top where she could see cannons as well as soldiers manning them. The entrance was in the centre of the stockade, lining up with the main road, judging by the marks in the earth where the wooden beams would swing open.
Judging by the size of the stockade's beams, it would be no easy task for their own cannons to make a dent, let alone break through. Calico Jack's crew were no fools, and Anne guessed that behind those massive beams were slats of iron holding them together.
Beyond the battlements, Anne could see the tops of some houses and a rather large one near the back closer to the sea, which Victoria claimed would be where Lance Nhil, Silver Eyes, resided. In the centre of the town, she could see another tall bell tower with another golden bell at the top.
"It's different than I remember," Victoria said, pulling away from the spyglass to look at Anne. "More fortified. Nhil won't go down easy."
"We were prepared for this," Anne said. "Fortunately, we're in control of the food supply."
"So, it is to be a war of attrition then?" William asked.
Anne nodded. "It is the safer way."
Pukuh slammed his spear into the ground and leaned against it. "What of the secret entrance Bellamy spoke of?"
"We can investigate it later, but from his description, and with the guards keeping watch, we may not be able to get enough of our crew in to make
