Pukuh flashed a devilish grin. "It would only take a few to open those gates."
Anne couldn't help but return his smile. "We shall see. For now, send word to the Queen Anne's Revenge to get into position and have our crew move forward."
"Aye, Captain," William said before he left to relay orders to the crew.
"Victoria, head back to Alexandre and watch over the islanders. Tell our men to keep their distance. We don't know how far the sound of that bell tower will reach."
Victoria nodded and headed away from the town and down the main road to join with Alexandre and a small contingent of the crew watching over the entranced men and women from the island. They had gathered about one hundred and twenty souls, with the majority coming from the first village they'd gone to after meeting with Sam.
After Victoria left, Anne watched as the Queen Anne's Revenge, helmed by Christina with a skeleton crew, let loose the sails and moved to the harbour of the town. As they had discussed, Christina was to stay far enough away not to allow the cannons facing the sea to strike, but close enough to keep any ships trying to escape at bay.
After the ship began moving, the crew on land moved as well. They went to a field in front of the town, just far enough away to avoid any cannon fire from the battlements and began setting up their own cannons from the Queen Anne's Revenge.
The air was still with only a light breeze rolling across the small hills behind them every so often. It brought with it a waft of fresh earth and green grass. Anne couldn't remember the last time they had been on land for so long, and it felt strange to have solid ground underfoot and the salt of the sea only an aftertaste on the back of her palate.
She missed the creak and groan of the Caribbean pine aboard the ship, the din of laughter, boots cracking against the deck, the feeling of rigging between the hands. This island had its own beauty, its own charm despite the nature of its inhabitants, but it was not home. Home to her was the captain's quarters on the Queen Anne's Revenge.
But if she was honest with herself, she hadn't been that long ashore. The real issue was that which made that place home, the person who made that place home, was not there and hadn't been for a lot longer than she'd been ashore.
She looked down at her left hand, at the golden ring on her finger. The memento of a celebration of love. A memento of her love for her husband Edward, and his love for her. A memento of her real home.
Home was Edward's heart beating in her ear as she lay her head on his chest. Home was his smile that sent her heart racing. Home was his touch that made her shudder in all the right places. Home was his voice as he whispered his love when they were alone.
Her home was gone, and she had a job to do. Anne closed her eyes, took a deep breath, held it tight, and slowly let it go.
She opened her eyes and looked over the crew as they approached the marker in the field they had designated: the stump of a large tree, no doubt one of the trees that had been used in the construction of the fort. There were many such stumps around, but the forest it had once been a part of thinned out and ended at that one. It was also far enough away from the town that they had no worry of the cannons even if the cannonballs rolled a fair distance.
She saw Nassir guiding in the wagons holding their supplies, and the pieces of their own cannons they had taken from the weather deck of the Queen Anne's Revenge, three twelve-pounders and twenty eight-pounders in all. It left their ship less armed, but not defenceless, as it still had the thirty twenty-two pounders on the gun deck.
"Nassir," she called, "how long will it take you and the crew to secure the cannons?"
Nassir took a moment to assess their current progress. The tall, muscular man stroked his clean-shaven face, his dark skin smooth and supple like a rock worn over the years from the waves, such that he hardly looked his age. There was a hardness there, born of the hardships, tempered from loss only a loving father could know, but a softness too.
The crew had only just begun unloading the wagons and the cannons, but they had no limbers to set the cannons onto, so they needed to improvise. Some of the cannons would stay on the wagons, and the others would need something made by Nassir to hold them in place.
"We will have them by nightfall, provided there are no distractions." Nassir glanced to his right towards the town.
Anne followed his gaze. She could see movement on the wall, but it was calm. If she hadn't known that Silver Eyes' men were in a light trance, she would have thought it eerily quiet. "Let us pray there are none then," she said. "How are the men you're training?"
"They are well along but have much to learn. Perhaps some still do not value the word of a negro, but they listen in time."
Anne nodded. "If anyone troubles you, let me know, and I'll make rights of it."
"Understood, Captain," Nassir said, a wide grin across his face.
As though someone had been listening in on their conversation, the large bell in the centre of the town rang out. The strange tone, low and unnatural, then high and hollow, was nowhere near as loud as when she'd first heard it in the centre of the bell tower, but its effect was only slightly diminished. It shook her core and inexplicably made her bones itch. She had to force herself not to cover her ears, to get used to the sinister
