XXXVIII.
Hunting the Sage

May 1721

"Weeks of hunting him down and we still haven't seen hide nor hair of him" Edward said a few choice words added on after and Mary listened, leaning against the railing, a thoughtful frown on her face. "What do you think, Mary?"

She glanced up at him and took a deep breath. "Well…What I think is…He's playing us. He knows we're hunting him. I bet he's hiding in on one of these islands, waiting for the choice moment to flee, leaving us far behind him" She looked at Edward. "I say we pick an island, go ashore and hope we get lucky"

"And if we don't?"

"Well I already have an idea of which one to check." She turned and walked down the stairs, heading for his navigation room. On the table was a detailed map of the West Indies. She pointed to two islands. They were close enough that sailing in between them wasn't an option for anything but schooners. "This island has a rock face big enough to hide most any ship, even his Royal Fortune. Then there is land to hunt on so they don't have to go to a town for supplies. I'm betting that's where he's hiding. Its small enough to easily defend, big enough to hide on and far enough out that few have reason to go there anyway"

"I think you may be onto something Mary" Edward commented, peering over her shoulder. He was silent and thoughtful a moment and she tried to figure out how they would sneak to the island without being spotted. There weren't anything but little tiny scraps of land about it. If they weren't careful, it'd be easy for Roberts to spot them and raise the alarm among his men. Edward distracted her thoughts by speaking again. "How do you know so much about these islands?"

"I hunted down a Templar Agent who took sanctuary on those islands once." She shrugged. It hadn't been a big thing. She had sailed as close as possible, snuck onto the island and hit him with a poisoned blow dart. Actually, if she remembered right, he had been her first target – rather the first target she took down all by herself.

"We'll set course for them straight away. We'll be there just after nightfall, it's the perfect time to attack" He tapped his finger on the map, though his brow furrowed as if he were thinking hard about something. Then he exited the room. She wanted to call after him, caution about attacking at night. Something felt off about the idea to her. She bit at her cheek, wondering if she should warn him about her ill feeling. He'd probably just laugh it off as her being a woman though.

What was the worst that could happen?

They didn't get too close to the island, lest a lookout spot them. Instead, she and Edward swam most of the way in the warm waters. Though the water was mildly warm, their heavy clothes and weapons tired them. They had left their guns behind, seeing as they were swimming and the powder would just get wet anyway. They pulled themselves onto the shore, darted into the bushes and took a breather, letting their soggy clothes dry a little. They wringed them out as much as they were able and then took a moment to assess the situation. They got their bearings and Edward noted that there were scouts about the area so they had to be in the right place.

The island was filled with dense vegetation and Mary was thankful for that. The only thing was, with it being a little past nightfall, the animals had all bedded down for the night. Their traveling from bush by bush was sure to be heard and crews men would probably know it was no animal. Or perhaps they would be foolish enough to think it so. Mary knew in her gut that Roberts would not be so easily fooled. He would be on the alert. He would know that the Assassins and the Templars were after him for the device he now carried with him. He was a wanted man. He was a dead man walking, so to speak. Of course after Mary and Edward were done here, he would be a dead man, hopefully. He was cunning and cruel from what Mary heard tell.

"Best get this over with, eh?" Edward whispered to her.

"We don't know its Robert's crew though" Mary cautioned. "Let's split up and investigate."

Edward hesitated a moment and she glanced over at him. His eyes were wary. "Please be careful then Mary" He kissed her. Not on the forehead this time though, no. It was a quick, gentle kiss on her lips that reminded her of her true feelings for this man. Before she could comment or even open her mouth to protest, he was already gone. He moved expertly from one bush to the next, sneaking like the Assassin he was. She felt a quick swell of pride again – look how far he had come! Then she felt a jab of annoyance – he should have at least asked before kissing her like that!

She firmed her resolve, pushing all other thoughts aside. Yes, they had a mission to do. They had to make sure this was Robert's crew and then they had to kill him. She hurried towards the interior of the island, figuring she could find something of value there. Sure enough, she came across a camp and found a hiding place behind some stacked boxes and a rock. She was small enough to fit in between the two where she doubted she would be spotted any time soon. Not unless someone came over and looked straight in between them that is.

There were six crew members around a bright fire. One was roasting a fish on the fire and the others were standing around, warming their hands or just laughing and talking. She could see two other such fires in the distance. It seemed they banded together in small groups, rather than one large one. Why? Was there a reason? Or perhaps they just split up to be among who they got along best with? She didn't really know or care, all she knew was that six men was nothing much for her to take down. It would be almost too easy.

"Our Captain is a wild one, eh? Much like old Blackbeard was said to be."

"Except he's not a fucking mad as Blackbeard was. Thatch was a loon, a bloody loon!" The one spilled his drink as he said this and cursed loudly. The others laughed and as it died down another spoke.

"Oh? I forgot Harold…You used to sail with him didn't you?"

"He drank gunpowder. Who the hell does that? No, Black Bart is mad, but nowhere as mad as Thatch" Harold was getting all worked up about this. Mary had heard tales of Thatch's…creativeness, but she had never labeled him as mad – nay, the man was smart. He knew that if he was the devil, men would fear him. He'd have less fights on his hand. She bloody missed the man, he would have…well she was sure he would have some grand schemes yet. She wondered what he would have thought of her being a woman. He would probably have a laugh about that – she could imagine him howling to the sky.

"Well he don't drink gunpowder!" There was a laugh. Then there was a pause as they probably imagined if he did. Then in the quiet, with only the crackle of the fire to break their silence, a man spoke in a soft, almost scared voice.

"But I heard he…he has visions or hears voices or something. The man is queer and odd."

"Frightening, but at least we're getting bloody rich and better yet, the Navy can't seem to touch us." There was another laugh, this one much more joyful. Mary knew she had found their man. Black Bart, hm? She hadn't heard of him going by that. She, of course, only knew him as Roberts.

She remembered him the last time she saw him. She still remembered the gun bumping gently against her temple. She hadn't been frightened, no quite the opposite. She had been calm. She knew he would pull the trigger, he had fire in his eyes, but she trusted herself to go down fighting. She trusted Edward to protect her for the most part. In the end, Edward had protected her by distracting Roberts. She had been able to tear herself from his grip and get away quite easily. She didn't think it was a lack of talent on his part, no more or less perhaps it had been shock that Prins had been willing to sell him. She pushed the thoughts aside as she began to wiggle out from her hiding spot.

She was silent of course, but perhaps her sword had scrapped a little loudly against the rock because suddenly one of the men said "What was that?" and she froze.

That was a bad reaction really. She needed to work faster and disappear into the darkness before one of them could see her. She slipped out of her hiding spot and into a bush just as man peeked into the spot. They poked around the area a little bit and she sighed in relief. Perhaps these men weren't as accomplished as she feared they might be.

"What is this hiding in the bushes? A little wild cat, sneaking up on my camp?" Suddenly someone had her by the hair and yanked her up painfully. She let out a surprised yelp. She had not even heard anyone sneak up on her. Suddenly she was up on her feet and then up in the air as the person grabbed her firmly by the back of her shirt and by the back of her trousers and then threw her right into the middle of the camp. She land in a scrambled heap, inches from rolling into the fire. She pushed herself onto her knees, spitting and cursing.

She looked over and saw Black Bart – Roberts – walking towards her, unsheathing his sword. He was decorated in an outfit of splendor, a Captain's outfit by all means. He was smiling as if he knew something she did not and his mismatching eyes glimmered with unhinged madness.

"Look at this men! A wild cat stalks us! And don't she look like the beastly one!" He had a laugh and the men laughed with her. "Hey, aren't you that lass who was with Kenway? The night Prins died?" She didn't answer, jumping to her feet and drawing her own sword.

One man jumped at her, trying to restrain her but she activated her wrist blade and stabbed him in the collar bone, twisting the blade. Another jumped and she slashed upwards with her sword, catching him from his left him to his right shoulder. Roberts held out his hands, cautioning the others to not attack her. She pointed her bloodied sword at him.

"It's you I come for Roberts" She hissed.

"Ah, you're with those Assassins. Yes, everyone is after me it seems. Not happy with what I've been doing with my time it seems." He gave her a grin. "Alright, well lass, tell me is Edward here with you? I heard he escaped prison along with another pirate set to be hung. I bet his blood is up and hot and he's calling for my blood to be spilt." She narrowed her eyes a little, wondering how he knew that. "I have the blood of a-many Templars"

She didn't speak instead she attacked. Their swords clashed and she had to admit he was good. He parried all of her blows but she did much the same to his. While they were evenly matched, that was also a bad thing. Their fight now depended on who would wear out first. It was not a contest of talent, but of stamina.

No one interrupted their fight, watching, grinning, betting on who would win. More bets were with Roberts. Mary knew it was because she was a woman and she tried not to give into the desire to gut the men. Suddenly, Roberts jumped back and she jumped forward, aiming to stab him good in the gut but he bent, ducking under her blade. He knocked it aside with his own and then did something very low – he threw sand in her eyes. It was too quick for her to shield herself and she back peddled, rubbing at her eyes with her free hand, trying to clear her vision. Suddenly her feet were out from under her and she felt cold steel at her throat.

She looked up at Roberts, squinting because of the sand in her eyes. This was how she died was it? Where was Edward? Had he already kissed steel before her? Was he looking for Roberts and in extension her?

"Roberts!" A voice roared from the trees. Edward was suddenly in the clearing, his sword drawn and face like thunder. "Let her go! Now!"

Then Roberts was pulling her up, his sword against her throat, holding her hostage. "Come any closer there, Kenway, and I'll paint the sand red with her blood"

Edward's face pinched, a desperate look in his eyes. He looked at Mary and she looked back, feeling her stomach roll. "She has nothing to do with us. Let her go!"

"She don't? Could have fooled me by the way this lass wields her sword." She was slowly reaching for her dagger as Roberts and Edward spoke. Suddenly Robert's free hand caught her's. "You draw a single weapon, lass, I'll cut your hands off"

The way he spoke let Mary know he was very serious with that threat.

He was backing up, taking Mary with her. Edward followed, slowly because he didn't want Roberts to kill her. For every five steps Roberts took, Edward only took one. Roberts was grinning like a mad man. He was winning, she knew, he knew, Edward knew too. Edward's face became desperate, he wanted to save her and she knew that. She didn't want him to do anything stupid though. It would just get them both killed. If she had to choose…

"Take care of him lads! I'll take this lassie on board! She'll be our guest of honor!" She heard Edward yell her name, yell profanities at Roberts and the clash of blades as Robert's crew fell upon him. Then she felt the hilt of his sword against the side of her head and knew nothing more.