Rackham played Rogers. As Rogers attempts to control his anger, yet lashes out at Eleanor, Max sees no other way to protect herself, Eleanor and Nassau from Spain and Rogers by persuading Anne Bonny to surrender the cache. When Rogers is convinced that Anne will do this, he is finally able to face Rackham.

Chapter 15 - The Villain

Close to an hour later, however, Max came down the stairs, stiffly and pale as fawn. Eleanor leaned into Rogers who was discussing the delayed shipment for Havana with the captain and whispered, "Something is amiss."

Briskly, Eleanor hastened up the stairs with lifted skirts. Max met Eleanor's eyes. "H-he played you."

"What?" said Eleanor, just when Rogers joined them.

"The letter. It was written to look like it said what you wanted, my lord, but in such a way that Anne would know it really meant 'run and take the cache'."

"Sir! Lord Governor!" One of the regulars that had left with Hersey ran inside the assembly hall.

Rogers whirled around and raced down the stairs. Eleanor could not overhear what the young man told Rogers, but she ran after the both of them through the hallway and the front steps, where the body of Lieutenant Hersey lay doubled over his white stallion. "Jesus!"

"She killed him, sir," said the young man, stating the obvious. "When it took too long for Lieutenant Hersey to return, we scouted ahead and found him slain. There was no one else to be seen."

Rogers locked his jaw and gritted through his teeth, "See to his funeral rites."

Max stared at the lieutenant, hand before her mouth, shaking her head in denial.

"You will tell me whatever that friend of yours upstairs in my office has told you," ordered Rogers. "Why?" Max opened her mouth and could not make a sound. "Get her a glass of water," he waved, and accompanied her to the salon.

As soon as the servant arrived with the pitcher, Eleanor poured a glass for Max and gave it to her. "Tell us, Max. Why did Jack deny us the cache?"

Max heaved a deep breath. "He would rather see Nassau burn, than have you win your conquest."

"Oh, for the love of –" Rogers rumbled.

"He sees this as a duel," Max said, coming back to herself. "Either you leave, recognize your defeat and then he can be pirate king again, or Nassau burns and everyone will know a new Pirate Republic was born out of its ashes because of him."

Shock and rage fought for dominance on the governor's expression. He finally managed to say, "It seems Rackham ensured himself a devious legacy." He looked passed the hallway at the stairs, at Max, at Eleanor, the men rushing through the hallway, and then he walked out towards the west wing. "Out!" he commanded to whomever was there, and slammed the door closed.

Eleanor half expected to hear evidence of Rogers trashing the sitting room, but when all remained eerily silent, she took a step towards the west wing. Max grabbed her wrist and shook her head. "He wants no witnesses, not even you."

Eleanor drew Max aside. "Rackham is mad if he thinks Rogers will run. England will not let go of Nassau. They might hang me and maybe appoint another governor, but England wants New Providence as their southernmost colony to sail 'round the Americas, for their expeditions, for control on trade in the New World. They will not allow the rise of a new pirate republic, not after Flint and Charles halted all trade with the colonies. Jack may win a battle, but he cannot win the war. His sole legacy will be that he got people killed."

"How can you be so sure?" Max asked.

"I sailed with his men for two months, Max. I saw London. He has the king, Whitehall, the Admiralty, his investors and the proprietors of Carolina behind him."

"Who is he to get that much people behind him?"

"He's a merchant, privateer and explorer."

"A privateer? You mean a pirate?" said Max in surprise.

"In Spain's eyes yes. Rogers took two Manila galleons during the wars with Spain with just two frigates. Not even Flint can say that. What did Jack do? Stood on a beach, killed some Spanish, weak from sickness, and stole the gold from a storm wreck."

Max frowned. "So, you are saying that it is in our best interest to make our peace with English rule, because it will happen, whether we live or die, and that Rogers may truly be our best friend who may understand us the most."

"Yes."

"He does appear rather harmless, not the tyrannical man they all feared," said Max. "Unfortunately Jack took that as a sign of weakness."

"He is very much mistaken. There is only one man I can think of that might match Rogers in tenacity, willpower and achievement – Flint, and he's dead."

Rogers reemerged from the sitting room, his hair tidy and his waistcoat and justaucorps all in order. "Major!" he called to Rollins. "Lock Rackham up in my fort and put him in chains. And someone fetch me Captain Hornigold." Then he settled his gaze on Max. "You will join us for dinner." It was not a request.

Trembling, Max eyed Eleanor strangely and then curtsied Rogers. "It would be my honor, my lord."

"Good," he said, but Eleanor could hear the anger that lingered in his voice. "I want to hear every precise word of your conversation with Captain Rackham."

In retrospect, Eleanor found the dinner with Chamberlain two nights before pleasant in comparison to Max reciting Jack's words. Gobsmacked at how quickly Rogers managed to win people over to do his bidding, only because he stood on a beach and said please, Jack wanted to destroy Nassau in some personal measuring competition with Rogers. It was chilling at what length Rackham wanted to go. Rogers listened to Max's words in icy silence.

"Rackham said he will deny you the cache, no matter what sort of inducements you offer or what pain you may inflict him," said Max.

Lieutenant Perkins entered. "Sir, Captain Hornigold has arrived, awaiting your orders."

"Send him to my office. We will join him in a minute." As Rogers rose from his chair, Max looked at Eleanor for guidance. Eleanor nodded and left the table after Rogers and indicated Max to follow them.

The former pirate captain turned pirate hunter squinted at Max alongside Eleanor, before he said, "My lord, you have Rackham imprisoned in the fort?"

"Indeed," said Rogers far more calmly than Eleanor expected him to. "He managed to take a cache from the treasury out of the fort that is now in his partner's possession."

"Anne Bonny."

"Yes," said Rogers darkly. At least, Captain Hornigold had the decency to blush. He let the pair slip through his fingers. "I want her and the cache found. She murdered one of my men today, who made peaceful contact with her and posed no threat to her."

"That does sound like Anne Bonny, my lord."

Rogers did not smile. "Now she is on the run, with horse, cart and cache. My regulars can help search, but they are not yet too familiar with the interior." He turned his back to them all and stared out of the window onto the market square. "Your men do know the terrain. Rally them. Search every tunnel, empty house, bush, and cave of this island and find her." As an afterthought, he said, "Alive." Rogers walked to his desk, rolled open a map and pointed at a drawn cross drawn onto it. "You can start here. This is where Lieutenant Hersey was killed."

Captain Hornigold stepped to the desk, put his head to the side and pursed his lips. "Will there be a reward?"

"Five hundred sterling for the men who find her alive and the cache."

"That will certainly do," smiled Hornigold. Rogers returned to the window, his hands behind his back and his fingers twiddling. "Um, I will see right to it."

"Thank you, Captain."

Immersed in silence, Rogers stared out of the window and leaned his hand against the wall, while Hornigold gathered his posse on the market square. Max glanced at Eleanor, while Eleanor felt dread build inside. For some reason, she felt that Rogers held her accountable for it. And yet, she could not see what they could have done different.

Finally, Rogers broke his brooding silence. "Earlier today, before we knew Rackham was still on the island, you seemed confident that we could locate him and his friend in time. You said it was possible because they didn't know that we were looking for them. Why do I get the feeling, now that they do know, now that they've made it their personal crusade to see this regime fail, that your estimate will be far less optimistic?" Not once did he look at her. Not even a glance.

He does hold me responsible. "The militia will help! It will keep the pressure on, and perhaps we'll get lucky." She knew how empty it sounded though. "But if we don't, then you may have to be prepared –"

He turned his head. "Oh, I'm prepared to do anything." He stepped away from the window and closed in on her. He never raised his voice, nor shouted, and yet every word felt like a blow landing. "Anne Bonny must be found! The cache must be found! Right now, that is all that matters." Eleanor lowered her eyes, her heart beating in her throat. She cringed under his accusing stare. He turned and ambled back towards the window. "And that said, the goodwill that we have engendered among the people of Nassau is not without limits. The longer this drags out, the riskier it becomes, because if I find that money only to lose the street–"

"You will not," said Max softly. Both Eleanor and Rogers tuned and looked at her."If you have me, then you have the street. I am all the reassurance they need. Yes, Jack and Anne were my partners, my friends. More. But now they have made themselves something else to me." Max sounded incensed too, for the first time that day. "I have sacrificed too much to build something here. I will not let them take it away."

For the first time that evening, Rogers met Eleanor's eyes for silent confirmation on Max's assurance. He turned away again. "You can go, now." As Max and Eleanor started towards the doors, he said in a low voice, "Not you."

Neither woman doubted that Rogers meant Eleanor. Max walked out, looking over her shoulder at Eleanor with worry, before closing the door. Eleanor sighed and lowered her eyes. There was nothing Max could do for her. She would face the brunt of his wrath as bravely as she could. Eleanor waited, her hands folded in front of her. Rogers remained with his back to her. And yet, as the silence endured, and she could only hear the sound of crickets and his breathing, her dread evaporated slowly. A sigh escaped from his lips, and she knew his anger had subsided. Going against protocol, Eleanor sat down and studied the map. Rogers sat down himself, took up paper and pen and made notes. It finally dawned on her that he simply wanted her to be there -that for some reason her company soothed his rage.

As he scribbled away, Eleanor got up and rearranged books and maps that lay about. Rogers gave her a fleeting look and then returned to his writing. "Should I inquire what Max meant by more than friends?"

She picked up a book, leafed through it and walked to his closet. "Perhaps not." She put it back where she thought it belonged.

He dipped his plume in the ink. "Do you think she knows where Anne Bonny might seek shelter in the coming days?"

Eleanor came around his side of the desk. "Yes."

"Would she be willing to contact her?"

"Yes," Eleanor whispered, trailing her finger alongside the corner of his desk.

Rogers laid the plume down, leaned his elbow on the back of his chair, and his other hand on the desk. "And?"

She met his eyes. "And she will try to convince Anne to give up the cache."

Rogers started to smile and nodded. "Perhaps you should call on Max tomorrow morning."

Eleanor smiled back. Rogers had put on an elaborate stage in front of Max, hinting how his simmering anger might turn violent to Eleanor, provoking Max to feel sympathy for Eleanor. Unwittingly, Eleanor had played into his hand when she compared Rogers to Flint. "That was well played," she said. "Incidentally, may I ask – you were truly outraged though?"

"I was. I am, at the man sitting in my fort." He relaxed back in his chair and folded his hands in his lap. "Anger can be a tool. But it is only useful if you can be its master, rather than that it masters you."

"Will you hurt him?"

"If I have the cache, Rackham can go and be free as he pleases. If I don't and Spain attacks us, I'll hang him from the shortest rope I can find." Eleanor felt a slight chill across her back, when she heard him talk so pragmatically. "But I won't torture him. It yields more nonsense than anything worthwhile." Rogers rose and nodded at her. "It is late." He gestured his head to the night sky outside. "You should get some sleep."

Once outside, Eleanor leaned her back against the door she had just closed behind her. She closed her eyes and wished she had the courage to go back inside. But then she straightened her stomacher and left for her own apartment.

When Eleanor arrived at the tavern the following day, Max hastened her into her office. "Did they find Anne?"

"No." Eleanor shook her head. "I fear it is a wild goose chase."

Max sighed . "I think I may be of help." Eleanor held her breath. Max's green-brown eyes studied Eleanor and then she looked down at her feet. "I think I know where Anne may go to hide. There is a cave system. It would be of no use to try and apprehend there. It would be too easy for her there to kill a great many soldiers before they can overpower her. And even if they do, they would never find the cache. But if I go there, alone, I might be able to contact her. I can holler her a message, that Jack has been arrested by the governor and that I wish to help her."

Eleanor took a few steps towards Max. "Do you believe that could work?"

Max looked up, into Eleanor's eyes. "She trusts me. She and I …All I want is what is best for all of us – for them to be unhurt and together, and for us to have a new start." Max frowned. "The governor was very angry, yesterday." Hesitantly and petulant, she said, "That cold, deadly fury that makes people think everyone is their enemy and order everyone killed."

Eleanor sighed. "He was outraged, and understandably so." Eleanor pressed her lips together. "But he is a good man, forgiving, reasonable and pragmatic."

"I feared a little for you, last night." Max had seen latent violence simmering beneath the surface of the governor's controlled appearance. Eleanor seemed to be drawn to men who could be extremely violent or hateful, seeking their love, protection and approval. It had been so with Vane and her father, and she had admired Captain Flint. After the governor had turned his ire onto Eleanor, chastising her like her father, Max half expected Eleanor to show up with a bruise the next day.

Eleanor put her head sideways and smiled. She shook her head a little. "I am at his mercy since the day he lifted me out of my prison cell." She lowered her eyes and strolled towards the window. "He is a merciful man."

Max's eyes lingered on Eleanor's profile for a moment longer. "Hmmm," she said. "Would he be merciful to Jack and Anne if he has the cache?"

"Yes." Eleanor saw the puritan women of the interior strolling on the swept street, regulars marching past, a farmer haggling with a former pirate.

"Jack and Anne could walk?"

"Yes. He has no interest in hunting them for their past. He only wants the cache to appease Spain. Besides, letting Jack walk would engender more goodwill towards the governor." Eleanor turned to look at Max. It was here that she had to make a gamble. "The question is whether Anne can see reason. She is loyal to him to a fault."

"I could try."

"And what if Anne says, 'fuck reason, fuck you, I do as Jack told me to do'?" Eleanor stepped away from the window. "What will you say then? You know chances are higher that Anne says no, than yes."

Max pursed her lips. "I could make it a hard choice for Anne." She strolled through the office, tapping her finger on her lips. "Jack said that no amount of torture would make him give in. Anne will know Jack would resist. But how long can she suffer the thought of Jack being in pain, when she can save him by giving up the cache?"

Eleanor leaned against the back of a chair. "You know her better than I do."

Two days later, Max requested an audience with governor Rogers and informed both Rogers and Eleanor that she had been able to make contact with Ann. "This morning, Anne came to my proposed meeting location. I persuaded her to believe that you were torturing Jack and that he still refuses to cooperate. I begged her to give up the cache on Jack's behalf."

Seated in his chair, one leg stretched out, Rogers raised his eyebrows. "I see. And?"

"She is going to do it."

"She agreed to make the exchange? She said that?"

"No," said Max sadly. "But neither can she bear the idea of Jack's torture. She will resist awhile. It will tear her to pieces. But sooner than later, she will acquiesce."

Rogers dropped his hand onto the arm of his chair. "How can you know this for certain?"

Max opened her mouth but dared not speak. The type of relationship Max had with Anne was not just scandalous, but deadly. Rogers did suspect Max's involvement with Jack and Anne was more complicated than a business partnership and friendship. Max had admitted it as much. But Eleanor knew he thought Max had an affair with Jack, not Anne. "She knows," said Eleanor.

Max looked at her with gratitude. Rogers turned his head to Eleanor. She repeated the assertion. "She knows."

Rogers looked from Eleanor back to Max. "Alright." He lifted his hand again and leaned his elbow on the arm of the chair. "I will set up a location of exchange, in two days time. Regulars, more than one." In his other hand, he held a letter and gesticulated with it. "She delivers the cache, and I will deliver her Captain Rackham, with the pardon. Same location, same time as where you met her." Max opened her mouth, in surprise. Rogers shook his head and smiled, reassuringly. "I will not ask for the location, now. You can confirm it to me tomorrow. And I promise you that none of my men will follow you if you go there tomorrow." He threw the letter down on the desk. "The sooner this is over, the better."

Max pressed her lips closed and nodded. "I will do that."

"Thank you, for your efforts, Max. You are a true friend." He rose as Max left and turned towards Eleanor. "That seems to play out well, indeed." He grinned. "Although I'm not so sure I like her telling tales of me torturing Rackham."

"Only to Anne," said Eleanor. "As far as everybody else knows, you are only holding Rackham and have Hornigold search for Anne to get the stolen cache back."

"Hmmm." He gathered the letter from his desk. "I will go downstairs and plan accordingly with Major Rollins to set up a team for the exchange." He walked to the double doors. "In the meantime, could you inform Mrs. Hudson that contact has been made with Bonny and that we plan for her to deliver us the cache the day after tomorrow?"

"I will, yes."

As Rogers discussed the organizational plans with his liaisons and men, one of the regulars posted at the entry of the assembly hall had a coughing fit. At first, Rogers did not mind him much, but as the coughing continued, Rogers studied the young man. He looked a greenish pale and sweated profusely. He went up to him.

The man cringed. "It's just a cough, sir." But the man's effort to make less of it was foiled by a another fit that forced the man to stand down.

Rogers squinted. "I think not. Could be the grippe. But you are in no state to perform your duties. Report to Dr. Marcus and have him tend to your needs." An hour later he dismissed a clerk with similar symptoms to his sick bed as well.

So far, Rogers had avoided a visit to Rackham in Fort Nassau. It had taken all the self-control he could muster not to rush upstairs to his office and beat Rackham to a bloody pulp when Max first informed him what Rackham had done. Instead he ended up hitting his fist to the wall of the sitting room, breaking the skin of his knuckles, after which he grabbed a pillow and held that against the wall to cushion the blow. As long as he had no good news regarding Bonny, Rogers had thought it best not to confront the scoundrel. But now that he was reassured of a positive outcome, he intended to pay Rackham a visit.

Together with naval Lieutenant Perkins, Rogers left for Fort Nassau and commended the men for their progress in the repairs of the fortress. As he approached Rackham's cell, the regular standing guard sweated like a horse and coughed as bad as his clerk and the other soldier.

"Sir," the regular said. "Touch of the grippe is all, sir. I'll be all right."

Rogers sighed. "You're the third man to say as much to me in the last four hours. I'll see you relieved. Please report to Dr. Marcus immediately."

"Yes, sir," said the soldier as he opened the door to Rackham's cell.

He bent his head, passed through the doorway and ambled toward the shape of a man huddled in the far corner, near the narrow open window that allowed daylight to drop in. "It's almost over, this unfortunate arrangement between you and I," Rogers said in his softest, most pleasant tone.

Rackham turned around and squinted at Rogers. "What?"

"Contact was made with Anne Bonny. The situation was explained to her that the sooner she returns the cache, the better it would be for you. She was disturbed but, we believe, ultimately persuaded."

"Disturbed?" murmured Rackham confused. And then his face turned sour as he understood. "You told her I was being tortured."

"If the street would hear you were being mistreated, if they were to see you emerge from this place damaged or not at all, I'd risk losing them. I know this. I imagine you were counting on it, the notion that all you had left me were bad options guaranteed, ultimately, to serve your ends." Rogers dropped his hand and took several steps closer. "This way, no one hears it but her. I get what I need, the island survives, and no one is harmed." It was almost a velvety whisper. But his tone was far more resolute, when he said, "I face a number of dangers ahead in stabilizing Nassau. The one I will resist to the limits of my ability is to allow myself to be cast as its villain. When the cache is delivered, you'll both be free to do as you please." He smiled as he nodded at Rackham whose features betrayed all the displeasure he must have felt at learning the table had been turned on him.

Rogers strolled back to the door, when Rackham asked him in a soft whisper, "Do you have a wife?"

He stopped, frowned and circled back around. "Beg pardon?"

Much louder this time, Rackham said, "Do you have a wife?"

Rogers did not see how that was any of Rackham's business, but he would not lie either. "I do."

From his corner, Rackham pressed his lips together and nodded. "How do you imagine she would feel if she were told you were suffering some awful, degrading abuse. And that the only way she could end it would be to betray your trust? How do you think she would feel if she betrayed you, knowing she likely lost that trust forever, and then learned the whole thing was based on a ruse?"

Unknowingly, Rackham had managed to hit a nerve. When he returned from his voyage five years ago, only to discover the amount of debt Sarah had accumulated, Rogers had been bitterly disappointed. Her family had been rich, her dowry substantial as was the sum put in her name after her father's death. And yet, she had spent it all and more on the best, furniture, trinkets, parties for society. Rogers guessed she had probably done so to compensate for her loneliness. Her father never had taught her restraint. Despite knowing her reasons, Rogers could not forgive Sarah. He lost his brother to capture those galleons, all to cover the loss of half his merchant fleet taken by French pirates at Madagascar. And it had all been for nothing. He would have made more money by staying home than miss out on his family for three years.

Sarah grew awfully resentful of having to retrench, of being forced to sell her jewelry, her china, the house, the furniture, and live below what she called her rank. She accused him of being purposefully cruel to her. If only he could swallow his pride and turn to her brother - who had inherited the largest part of her father's inheritance – for help. But his brother-in-law had a family of his own. Not even the coming of their fourth child could keep them from arguing. Sarah grew to hate him. And when little Thomas died, there was only blame and mistrust left between them where neither of them could forgive the other's faults. When he saw no other option than to seek a mission at sea again to provide for his family and intended to leave her in Bristol with his far more frugal mother, not even allowing her to be the lady of the house, she told him that if he went out of that door, she would never see him again and he should not bother to come back at all. He never had.

"And no one was harmed," spat Rackham. "We're all villains in Nassau. Don't think because you're new you're any different."

The latter made Rogers chuckle. He rolled his eyes, knocked on the cell door and walked out.