Pieces Of Eight

Chapter 46

The council held on the quarterdeck was a long one, even though some of the chief participants sat heavily bandaged in their chairs in the front rank, while the rest — and a great crowd of them it was, too, made up of warriors, seamen and gentlemen of fortune — sat or stood behind them, with those who'd signed articles shouting their comments whenever they wanted, as was their right, while the Patanq were shocked at such chaotic informality and spoke only when the ceremonial pipe was in their hands.

All of which was a considerable trial to the wounded.

Van Oosterhout had been lucky. Lucky in the man who treated him and who undoubtedly saved his life. Summoned from Walrus, Cowdray probed the Dutchman's chest wound, found the lung untouched, and removed a pistol ball, the shank of a brass button, and a bit of Van Oosterhout's coat. Thanks to Cowdray's obsession with boiling instruments before surgery, and with total cleanliness thereafter, a very dangerous wound was cleaned and drained, and healed well. Van Oosterhout was up and about the next day. He was even able to help Israel Hands bring Walrus safe through Flint's Passage, and out to join the Patanq fleet.

Mr Joe was lucky, too. His burns were superficial, and Cowdray laid on goose-fat and clean bandages, and healed him without scars.

Silver was lucky to be alive at all, but less lucky in his wounds. Cowdray cleaned the broad gashes across his body, but couldn't close them with stitching, because they were too wide. Despite Cowdray's best efforts, the wounds swelled and grew hot and painful. They would take weeks to recover fully.

With Silver quieter than usual, the discussion was led by Israel Hands and Cut-Feather, and agreement was slow despite the profound gratitude of the Patanq nation, and a procession of sachems who came forward, one by one, to kneel before Silver and Van Oosterhout, and pronounce their thanks. The problem, as ever in this wicked world, was not high principle, but low money, for Flint's five chests had been opened and found to contain an astonishing amount of silver and gold — plenty enough and more for the Patanq nation to buy its new lands in the North.

There were many and different ingenious plans to split this wealth and ensure equal shares. But they were all too clever by half, for no man trusts a scheme he can't understand. Not where gold and silver is concerned. And so it rolled on, until John Silver, fed up and ill, and with Selena at his side pouring him drinks, called for silence.

"See here!" he said, sweating with the effort. "There's five chests of Flint's what's been brought aboard this ship. Ain't that a fact?"

"Aye!" they said.

"And four of 'em's dollars, and one's doubloons, and a few choice gemstones, too. Am I right?"

"Aye."

"So how's this — I'll take one chest of dollars, and a good handful of stones, and that's my whack. Me and my crew."

"Hmmm," they said.

"And all the rest — all of it — why, that goes to the Patanq nation, with Mr Van to be paid such sum as the nation thinks proper on safe arrival of the nation in its new home!"

There was much more argument, especially from Van Oosterhout, who'd have preferred a chest of his very own, right now. But Silver's plan was followed. It might not have been philosophically perfect, but it was simple, and everybody understood it.

Next day at dawn Lord Stanley and the Patanq fleet weighed and sailed on a fair wind, and with a great number of new lives already aboard, what with the joyful and vigorous reuniting of so many husbands and wives after long parting, such that the fleet had rocked at its moorings the night before. And if, in due course, some of the women — like Sally — were delivered of children a little paler than their husbands… well, nobody minded.

Walrus sailed at the same time, bound for Williamstown, Upper Barbados, possibly the last port in the Caribbean where she could drop anchor without fear of King George. For this purpose she had aboard two of the Patanq fleet's best navigators, men who'd been to Upper Barbados enough times to be sure of finding it again, especially with the help of the charts and detailed sailing instructions given them by Van Oosterhout.

"What do we do when we get there?" said Selena that night, as she lay in Silver's arms.

"Dunno, my girl, but I'll do it with you, whatever. And I'll not be parted from you again."

"No more the gentleman of fortune?"

"No."

"Really?"

"Aye."

"Pieces of eight!" said the parrot from her perch. Perhaps she knew Silver was lying, for he certainly was… he who'd never lied before.

John Silver was becoming a different man.