Edward kept pushing Herbert forward and through the crowd towards Nassau. He rushed onto the main road, a large dirt and mud track wide enough for carts, ignored the terrible odours emanating from every person and every corner, and entered the nearest tavern.
Inside, Edward finally stopped running and looked down to see Herbert breathing heavy and holding onto his wheelchair like driftwood in a storm.
"Are you well, Herbert?" he asked.
"No thanks to you. I know we needed to get away from there, but once we were in the crowd, you could have slowed down." Edward grinned and shrugged. After Herbert caught his breath, he took in his surroundings. "What are we doing here?"
Edward stepped up to the bar in the tavern and ordered two glasses of whiskey. After taking the drinks in hand, he answered Herbert's question by lifting them up into full view. He motioned for Herbert to follow him, and the two went to a corner of the bar out of view of the windows and entrance.
The two sat in silence, slowly drinking the whiskey as they calmed their nerves. Edward hoped that none had seen him lighting the fires and that the crew were able to put it out. Earlier, he didn't care, but now that it was done, he would regret it if the ship burned down. They'd managed to keep their identities hidden so it wouldn't do to have Grace and her crew looking for them because they torched her ship.
After a few moments, Herbert spoke. "This was a mistake, coming here."
The comment took Edward aback, and he didn't know how to respond. "What?" was all he managed.
"Us coming here was a mistake," Herbert said. "Because of me, you killed your brother, and who knows how things are going with our crew. How are we to even find them again? And then we're supposed to kill your father, without a plan, without help, with no way to escape."
Edward gripped his glass harder. "You mean me coming here was a mistake."
It was Herbert's turn to be confused. "What?"
"Look, I—" The words choked in Edward's throat. "I know I'm messed in the head, but I meant what I said. My father has done horrible things, and he wants me to kill him. Some twisted final test of his I'll never understand. So, I'm here to end it before he hurts anyone else I care about." Edward took another drink from his whiskey, letting the burn take over his mind.
"He… he wasn't all bad."
Edward looked up from his glass at Herbert, who was staring into his own glass intently. He had a small smile on his face.
"When I was young, before my accident, he was the first one to show me how to read clouds, how to man the helm, how to read a map. It was all basics, but for me, it meant a lot." Herbert took a long drink of his whiskey. "He has done horrible things, but he wasn't evil." He looked up at Edward, pain in his eyes. "Was he?"
Edward couldn't think of what to say. Calico Jack had always been Herbert's entire world. Revenge had been his reason for taking to the seas. It had once caused him to steal away the Queen Anne's Revenge in pursuit of Jack and leave Edward behind. For him to say the man wasn't evil felt strange.
"And you know what the worst part of it is?" Herbert's voice cracked, and he had tears in his eyes. "I don't even know if I was right this whole time."
"About what?"
"Gregory Dunn, the one you got that gold from to make your sword and rings, said that I was his favourite. And I remember that I used to get money sent regularly to me by someone, but then it suddenly stopped. Sometime after I left, Dunn became Jack's Gold Division Commander. They're the ones in charge of the money."
Edward was putting the pieces together. "You think he… stole it? Stole the money my father sent to you?"
Herbert shook his head. "I don't know. But what if he did? Then it means your father didn't really abandon me because he thought I was useless. All I've had since I lost my legs was hate, and when you came along, I had hope again. What if the reason for that hope is a lie?"
Edward gritted his teeth. "And what if it's not?" he seethed. "What if that money was from someone else? What if you don't remember things right? He still left me when I was ten; he still became Calico Jack." Edward was nearly shouting. It took everything he had to hold back his anger and keep his voice low. "Grace told you her story, the bodies piled up, the girls taken, hell, even Grace herself. You must have known about it already, you were there." Edward took the last drink and slammed the glass down. "I don't care if he wants us to do it, he needs to die."
Herbert nodded and looked defeated. Perhaps the drink was hitting him harder than he'd thought it would. "I know. We're in too deep to swim back to shore now." There was another moment of silence before Herbert took the flask out from his chair and threw it across the table to Edward. "Look at us. Pathetic, aren't we? We're about to kill your father, a man we both loved and hate, and here we are trying to find the courage to do the deed at the bottom of a bottle."
Edward let out a dark chuckle as he pocketed the flask. "Lately it seems to be the only way I can find it."
