Rogers leaves Fort Nassau together with Rackham and reveals what measures of security he took about the route. Max convinces Eleanor that Anne and Flint must be working together to intercept the cache and Rackham, and Eleanor seeks men who are willing to listen to her.
Chapter 22 - Beyond the Horizon
The repair of the fort had succeeded with great progress. The damage caused by the explosion was almost invisible, except for the newer stone and mortar. The courtyard was full of regular and several loaded the carriage with ammunition. Rogers had spared no risk to security. Rackham and the cache would be transported under heavy guard. Inside the carriage, on the floor, rested the heavy chest, similar to Max's that was already underway to Havana. Rogers sat on one knee, hauled a padlock out of his pocket and secured the chest.
"Have Rackham brought from his cell, in chains," he ordered Major Rollins. He lifted the tail of his justaucorps and sat down on the bench, facing the front of the carriage. It was not as fancy as the one he had owned in London – older, worn and with black leather padding - but it would do the job.
A week ago he could have strangled Rackham with his bare hands. But now, he wished he could let Rackham go free. Rogers felt no guilt whatsoever about doing what needed to be done, not in the heat of battle, not to save what was his or his allies, but he rarely felt a personal animosity, let alone a grudge that lasted. Perhaps that was the reason he had chosen to see the cache and Rackham off personally. In some ways, he respected the man for trying and the least he owed Captain Rackham was accompanying him to the ship.
Tall and lanky Rackham appeared before the open doorway and stared up at Rogers. He looked haggard and almost pitiful. Rackham threw his dusty tricorn inside the carriage onto the bench opposite of Rogers, climbed inside and sat down. Jack stared at the chest next to his boot and then at Rogers, his jaw flexing in irritation. "Anne exchanged the cache for my release?"
"Yes."
Major Rollins chained Rackham to a ring that had been mounted onto the bottom of the carriage as Rogers had requested and used another padlock to lock it. "This does not seem like a release," said Rackham, frowning.
"Spain has demanded I deliver you along with the cache," Rogers said soft voiced. "I'm told that once you and the cache arrive at Havana, my debt to Spain will be repaid." Rogers had difficulty meeting the man's eyes. "I did not appreciate having terms altered after the fact in this way, but in this moment I'm simply in no position to refuse them."
"I see," Rackham croaked, anger blazing from his dark eyes.
Finally, Rogers met Rackham's judgmental stare squarely. "Perhaps you were right, that in a place like this there is no progress without awful sacrifice." He turned his head to the open windows and shouted, "Make ready to depart!"
"Yes, sir!" the driver hollered back.
"If it's any consolation, no harm was done to your partner," Rogers said more softly. "She left the transaction unscathed."
Major Rollins leaned into the carriage. "Ready, my lord."
"Let's go."
As the major stepped out and closed the door, the miserable looking Rackham asked, "So she's alive? Anne?"
"She is. You have my word." At least this promise was true, though he could understand Rackham's skepticism.
"Prepare to mount up!" Major Rollins orders his men, while Rogers stuck his hand out of the carriage and patted to signal to get the caravan going.
xxx
Downstairs in the assembly room, Major Andrews relayed Eleanor the news about the successful non-exchange of the cache. Though she was supposed to visit the sick bay, she decided to reassure Max first. Max feared that even if Rogers' men showed restraint, Anne would become so violent his men's only recourse would be to kill her. Eleanor hastened to the tavern. "Can you tell Max I'm here to see her?" she asked Featherstone.
Featherstone looked spooked. "Ahm," he opened his mouth and then closed it again, fiddling with his cravat. "She's still in her room across the street. Haven't seen her yet all morning." He turned around and hastily disappeared out of sight.
Eleanor furrowed her brow at his strange behavior, but then again, she had once ordered men to have him killed. If she were to meet the person face to face who sent an assassin after her, she might not know how to behave either. Then she chuckled at herself. What am I thinking? I sleep with the man who threatened to put me on a ship to the gallows. She shook her head, left the tavern, crossed the street and entered the brothel.
Several women sat around lazily, having a late breakfast, after a long night of work. Mrs. Mapleton sauntered across the patio with a smile. "Miss Guthrie, how may I be of help to you?"
"Max hired you again?" said Eleanor, not hiding the incredulity in her voice.
Mrs. Mapleton folded her hands delicately together, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "I have my uses, as you know yourself."
There was something about that woman that made her skin crawl, keeping percentages of the girls for herself and yet never standing up for them if a customer beat them bloody. Max never allowed her girls to be abused so. And yet, Anne had murdered Charlotte for the Urca gold and Max had covered it up. Mrs. Mapleton told her that, which led to Eleanor ordering the assassination on Rackham and his crew. For a moment, she wondered whether Mrs. Mapleton had been two-timing her. Was it Mrs. Mapleton who betrayed my location to Captain Hornigold?
"Did any of the men appear on the beach to be recruited by Flint?" Mrs. Mapleton asked.
"No," said Eleanor.
Mrs. Mapleton smiled and lifted her hand. "Well, then I can tell the girls they did a fine job."
"They did. Is Max here?"
"She's upstairs in her room, sleeping in. I shall tell her you've come to see her." She turned, flicked her fingers at one of the girls hanging near the bar. "Get Miss Guthrie some refreshment, for her trouble." Eleanor watched Mrs. Mapleton amble up the stairs and took her time in coming down again. "Max will see you now."
When Eleanor almost reached the top of the stairs, the blonde whore that had talked foolishness to her nine days ago emerged from Max's room and flew down the stairs. Is that Max's bedwarmer now? Surely, she can do better than that simpleminded one.
Max was still in a morning gown of golden threaded silk, pacing her room. "What happened?" Max rounded her table, turned her back on Eleanor and poured herself a glass of water.
"The cache is in our possession," Eleanor said, smiling. "It's on its way as we speak to the transport and then to Havana."
"With Jack."
"Yes. The governor is seeing to it personally that the transport sets sail with its cargo. Within a matter of hours, the Spanish issue will be closed and we will be free to move forward."
"And Anne?" Max asked with a trembling voice.
"The men said she was angered." Eleanor took a step closer to Max and softly said, "When she realized that Jack wasn't there, she let the cache go. Anne was unharmed."
Max turned around and looked at her with astonishment. "Unharmed?"
"Yes. I advised the governor to send eight men to the exchange to deter any attempt on her part to fight –"
"When did she realize?" Frowning, Max put down the glass of water.
"I'm sorry?"
"That Jack was not there. When did Anne realize that she had been lied to?" Max demanded. "Was it before or after they secured the cache?"
Eleanor tried to remember Major Andrew's precise words. "Before, I think. Why?"
With a knotted brow, Max came closer. "When you told me this was to be, I was upset by the thought of having lied to Anne. I was devastated by the certainty it would unavoidably lead to her death. For the moment she realized that Jack was not there, that she had been crossed and that she would likely never see him again, she would attempt to kill anyone she deemed responsible. Eight?" Max said, incredulous. "You could have sent a thousand men. It would not have deterred her. And now you're saying to me that she knew she had been crossed and chose to walk away to save herself?"
Eight, Eleanor thought with alarm. Bonny and Rackham killed eight of Vane's crew to free Max. Eleanor had been so focused on preserving Anne's life for Max that she had never thought on it from Anne's perspective. She was suddenly alarmed. "You're right. Anne would have died fighting."
"Unless," said Max, her face only inches away from Eleanor's. "Anne already knew she would be duped."
Furrowing her brow, Eleanor shook her head and stared at the floor in thought. "But then she would not have shown up even. She never would have surrender the cache. Set up some trap to kill Woodes' men instead. It makes no sense!"
Startled, Max took a step back from Eleanor. She slept with him. Eleanor's slip of the tongue told her enough. She was still close enough to Eleanor to scent it. Behind the perfume of rose-water and soap there was a distinct feminine aroma that Max remembered as Eleanor's when Max had made her come, and something else, just a tiny hint of it – a manly odor. After I warned her against it! What is she doing with him?
Realizing she been momentarily distracted over this revelation, Max asked, "What were you saying?"
"If Anne Bonny knew that Jack Rackham was not going to be released, then why did she even show up for the exchange?"
Setting aside her thoughts of Eleanor and the governor, Max pondered the same issue. "Because she has a plan?"
"What plan?" Eleanor puckered her brow. "To give us the cache and not rescue Jack?"
Max lifted her eyebrows and nudged her head. "To give us the cache and rescue Jack. She has help, Eleanor. Men slipped into Nassau last night, into my tavern, murdered Mr. Dufresne, walked off with the ledger, and slipped out again. Flint has been sailing near or around the island since yesterday at least. How many of his men are here, in Nassau or the interior?"
"Oh, fuck!" Eleanor widened her eyes. "They intend to attack the caravan. We have to warn the commodore." Eleanor whirled around, flung the door open and raced onto the landing for the stairs.
"Wait!" cried Max. "I'll come with you. But I have to dress."
"I'll wait for you downstairs!" yelled Eleanor from the stairs.
Max rushed to her wardrobe and picked through the many dresses she had, while her thoughts streamed on the other revelation. Fool, she told herself. She's in love with him. You thought to warn her against it, but you probably only pushed her into acting on her feelings. For a moment, she had to catch her breath and leaned with closed eyes against the wardrobe, as she suddenly had a vision of the pair of them making love to each other. Fuck! Get a grip of yourself. Mrs. Mapleton told you last night why Eleanor even picked you for her lover –she would owe you no more than a fee. You weren't Eleanor's lover. You were her whore. Like Georgia's yours. She was surprised how much it could hurt her still, even after Anne. Even after her father's death and Vane was her enemy, I thought I could win her back, remind her how I knew her. But I only thought I knew her.
She hated Mrs. Mapleton for telling her – take a whore to your bed and you may survive the experience of power. It did nearly kill Eleanor, if not for the governor. And not because Eleanor was so cruel and selfish, but because she did care. Because she cared, I cared, and Vane cared, both hoping to win her love. Just not in the way we wanted her to care, and we both wanted to see her destroyed for it.
Max had taken Mrs. Mapleton's advice. She took Georgia, who looked so much like Eleanor, to her bed. Of course she knew why Mrs. Mapleton had picked out the blonde girl. Eleanor was her weakness. It is my half-sister who is my true weakness – my father's other daughter, who got to play, sing and dance in the big house, while I was but his slave. But Max was not as naïve as Eleanor. When Georgia made her come and come and come last night, Max had indulged in the fantasy of Eleanor fucking her. But when Georgia talked or Max opened her eyes, the fantasy was ruined.
It was a good thing that Teach had shown up to take Vane far away from Eleanor. Oh yes, he used to say Eleanor was dead and that he hated her for betraying him. But he was sullen most of the time, if he had nothing to do. And he had shown a surprising unprecedented commitment to Nassau. A part of Max had always wondered whether this was because he somehow believed he was fulfilling Eleanor's legacy in some twisted way - defend Nassau, build Nassau. Vane spent more time on the island than out on the sea hunting. For a pirate declaring himself so committed to piracy and its freedom, he had behaved very little like a pirate. He did it all for Eleanor, not for the pirate life, but he was too scared to have her know it. And if that is true, Max realized, then he can't stay away from this place forever, knowing she is here, alive. The fool might even think she might forgive him if he rescues her from the governor. Charles would kill the pair of them if he were to see Eleanor's adoration for Rogers. Max dreaded the day that Vane would sneak onto the island again. At least one of those three would end up dead – Rogers, Eleanor or Charles.
xxx
Driving along the scenic route, Rogers looked out of the window of the carriage, onto the azure ocean. Just a little island, a sliver in the sprawling ocean, far away from the rest of civilization. He was charmed by this particular speck in the ocean though. Nassau had its own personality – dirty, grubby, but busy, English enough, and with a backbone. He could see why Eleanor loved it so, and he could grow to love it. This island was transforming him. Eleanor was transforming him, to his more natural, true self. And he started to embrace it.
The blue of the ocean, reminded him of Eleanor's eyes. He knew her for only two and a half months, and in all that time she had done everything he wished of her, without complaint, without going behind his back. If she argued a point it was in support of him. And yet, because of his marriage that was no marriage, he was supposed to think their relationship was a sin, fornication. He just could not anymore. Just as he could learn from Eleanor, he began to feel that civilization could learn something from Nassau too.
Slowly it started to sink in how he started to shed his English cultured shame. Last night and this morning was how it ought to be between a man and woman – liberated to enjoy each other completely, without shame, without reserve in the privacy of their own rooms. No wonder that society and the church shamed women thus. What would society be like if every man could feel this empowered by his wife? Every man would consider himself king.
He remembered the words spoken by the priest during his own marriage ceremony to Sarah as if it were yesterday. "…and therefore is not by any to be entered, nor taken in hand, unadvisedly, lightly, or wantonly, to satisfy men's carnal lusts and appetites, like brute beasts that have no understanding; but reverently, discreetly, advisedly, soberly, and in the fear of God…"
There, he thought. It's not just women, but men who are made to feel ashamed of their lust, making them out to be beasts. For the life of him, Rogers could not conceive himself as a beast at all now. He had been loving, reverent and even that morning a successful lover. Sarah used to call him a beast or remind him that, "The minister said it was ordained for the procreation of children." That minister had also said, "It was ordained for the mutual society, help, and comfort, that the one ought to have of the other, both in prosperity and adversity." And well his marriage failed completely in that regard.
But how much will Eleanor support me still if she ever learns of the many strings I pulled for close to two years? As intelligent as she was, it puzzled Rogers she had not figured it out herself. But maybe it was the island that prevented her from seeing the big picture. The outlook across the sea gave rise to this feeling of vastness, of the whole world being at your beck and call, and yet one could never see beyond the horizon, a seeming empty ocean.
"Do you speak Spanish?" asked Rackham, calling Rogers out of his reverie.
Rogers had heard the pirate speak, but had not actually registered the question. He looked at Rackham. "Beg pardon?"
"¿Habla español?"
"A little. You?"
"Hardly at all," said Rackham, staring into the distance out of the other window, into the land covered with bushes. "If I'm in Havana in a day or two, I assume I'll be hearing a lot of it shouted by bitter old women in a crowd, growled by angry officials."
Rogers smiled to himself and looked down at his hands. They were clean, his hands. And yet, while Eleanor had painted him as her deliverer to bring life, here he would be the deliverer of Rackham to his noose. Had you done as I asked from the beginning I would have released you, before Spain even knew I had you in my custody. You played your game, and it will cost you your life and your partner's happiness. You care about your life, but you never cared of the fate of the people in Nassau .
"It seems a rotten thing to wish upon anyone, an unflattering eulogy in an unfamiliar tongue."
"It'll be quick, to whatever extent it sets your mind at ease. The gold is theirs. The gems are theirs. They don't need anything from you anymore, and as such they're likely to want to put the entire affair behind them and move on." Then suddenly Rogers was struck by the particular way Rackham had expressed himself. He studied the forlorn looking Rackham. "I'm sorry. 'If'?"
"Beg pardon?"
"You said, 'If I'm in Havana.' In your mind this outcome is still in doubt?"
"Well, the odds are certainly in its favor," Rackham admitted while staring at the scenery. Then he met Rogers' gaze."But it is by no means a certainty."
"How so exactly?" Rogers said softly.
"You said Anne is alive, did you not? I would argue as long as that is true, there's a chance, however remote, that she will frustrate your efforts to send me off to my death."
Incredulously, Rogers raised his eyebrows. "Out of curiosity, how would she go about doing that?"
"Well, I have no idea," sighed Rackham. "Everything and anything in her power, I imagine, up to and including walking out in the middle of the road ahead of us to be run over by your horses in the hope of slowing you down for even a moment."
This made Rogers smile. It was a fitting description of what he expected the likes of Rackham to try. But he was no backwater fool. He sighed and rolled his eyes. "It is fascinating to me how stubbornly you people expect the unlikeliest of outcomes because you prefer them." Rackham squinted at Rogers, listening with concentrated attention. "You expect the world to become what you want it to be, despite all available evidence and experience to the contrary." His tone became more apologetic. "This was not the way I'd hoped this affair would play out. But I can assure you it is most certainly not going to play out the way you hope it will either, because even to stand in the road ahead of us, she would have to know which road to stand in."
Rackham glared at him. "You held the route secret."
"I held a number of potential routes secret, before settling upon this one so that even if the secrets were compromised, anyone intending to hit us would be more than likely in possession of the wrong route."
For the first time, Rackham stared out at the sea, his jaw flexing in defeat and taking in a deep breath.
xxx
Eleanor hastened towards the mansion, where a squadron of regulars in formation changed the watch of their other colleagues. Impatiently, she tried to see where she might find the commodore and get past the whole squadron without interrupting the ceremony. Max raced after her, trying to keep up. Eleanor saw Chamberlain striding out of the mansion and she waved to get his attention. He looked down his nose from afar at her and turned his head away. "Oh, that oaf," she muttered in frustration. "He knows I would never even speak to him if it wasn't absolutely necessary."
"Why don't you try and talk to any of the majors?"
Eleanor rolled her eyes. "The majors are good men, but not that smart," she whispered. "And ultimately, Chamberlain is the military commander after the governor. Besides, a ship might get faster to the destination." Then Lieutenant Perkins just walked by. She grabbed him by the cuffs. "Lieutenant, would you do me a favor, and ask the commodore to come here and talk to me. We have a matter of security and high alert to discuss with him." Perkins raised his eyebrows and looked at her hand holding the cuff of his sleeve. Eleanor let go. "He's ignoring me. But you know I wouldn't ask anything of him, or you, unless I felt the governor to be in any danger."
Perkins flicked his eyes sideways, in the direction of Chamberlain, then at her. She pouted her lips at him in a challenge. His eyes softened somewhat, and he inclined his head. "Yes, m'am."
The young man walked around the squadron, up the steps and spoke to Chamberlain, who turned his head sharply towards Eleanor. Perkins became more insistent. Chamberlain waved at the lieutenant in a yes-yes motion, put on a smile and strolled at leisure towards Eleanor.
Eleanor sighed in relief. "Thank you, commodore."
Hands behind his back, he stopped in front of her. "How may I be of service?"
"We fear there's something terribly wrong with the caravan's safety," she started. Chamberlain rolled his eyes. "Anne Bonny's reaction doesn't make much sense. She gave up the cache, despite knowing already that Jack wasn't there and she hardly put up a fight against the eight regulars." Eleanor ignored the man's smug smile. "That is just not like Anne. She would not have surrendered the cache without a fight, once she knew Jack would not be released, unless she knew of it beforehand and has a plan to rescue Jack and steal the cache of gems."
Chamberlain sighed. "Let me be sure I have this right." He leaned towards Eleanor and repeated in a condescending tone as if he were speaking to a child, "So the plan to recover the stolen cache of gems - your plan to recover the stolen cache of gems - has worked in exactly the manner you suggested it would. Only now you believe this is a bad thing - evidence of a plan to rescue Mr. Rackham and once again recover the cache of gems. That is what you're suggesting, yes?"
"I can understand why this may be hard to believe, but I know Anne Bonny well enough to know that it is a certainty something here is amiss," insisted Max.
"That her behavior should coincide with the presence of Captain Flint on the island only hours before most certainly points to a plot being underway," said Eleanor.
Chamberlain chuckled. "I beg your pardon. So now Captain Flint is somehow involved in this plot despite the fact that his ship left the island hours ago? And I am to redeploy men into the interior away from Nassau Town, leaving their positions undefended?"
The man is insufferable. Here she thought that at least he would share her concern for Woodes, that at least they had a common concern. She put her hands on her side. "I'm sorry, are you suggesting there's some ulterior motive here?"
"I'm suggesting that simply because the governor decided to put his…" Chamberlain swallowed before saying the next. "…trust in you, I have no intention of doing the same." Eleanor was appalled. "The situation is well in hand. Thank you for your concern." Chamberlain turned and started to walk away.
"Well in hand?" She raised her voice. "I'm telling you the situation is potentially about to get entirely out of hand. You're not fucking hearing me!" She had spoken loud enough for Captain Polliver of the regulars to turn his head at her direction.
Chamberlain stopped, turned and took a few steps back in her direction. "Even if somebody wanted to move against the governor's caravan, they wouldn't know where to find the governor's caravan!" He spoke rapidly, incessantly and increasingly louder. "The route was altered multiple times. False schedules were distributed. Nobody knows exactly when they were set to leave. Nobody knows what route they finally decided upon. Nobody knows who –"
"I know," said Max, startling Chamberlain. Eleanor smiled at her. "I know the route. A boy in my employ saw scouts on the west trail road late last night. That is it, is it not?" The commodore blinked a few times, raising his chin. "I'm assuming you did not send men to scout the decoy routes?
Chamberlain shook with annoyance and anger. "Did you tell anyone what your boy has told you?"
"No."
"And would your boy sell his information without your knowledge?"
"No."
"Good. Then we have nothing to fucking worry about. Ladies."
Eleanor let him go without any further protestation. There was no use in making him listen. Her mind worked on an alternative. Who else can I reach out to? She stepped towards the rotund Captain Polliver. "Captain, I need two regulars to come with me now, as an escort." The Captain looked at Chamberlain then at her. But this was not something that Chamberlain could refuse her. "I'm the governor's senior advisor and I need an escort, on official governing business, now."
Captain Polliver nodded and pointed, "You and… you," he pointed to a long fellow with dark hair and a shorter one. "Please escort Miss Guthrie."
"Where are we going?" Max asked.
"The tavern."
Max widened her eyes. "My tavern? You don't need an escort for that."
"I do, if I wish Hornigold to acknowledge I am there as the governor's liaison." She leaned in to whisper, "And to annoy that stupid Chamberlain, because he can't deny me an escort." When Max gave her a blank look, she said, "Hornigold commands the militia and he's eager to prove himself to the governor. He's usually at the tavern at this time of the day, isn't he?"
"Yes."
Once there, Eleanor knew exactly where she could find him: his favorite spot on the lofty inner balcony to read his paper.
"Do you want me to come with you?" asked Max.
Eleanor pressed her lips together, looking up at the balcony. She shook her head. "No, Max. It is time that Hornigold and I make our peace. I put away my pride a month ago, now it is time he does the same."
"If you say so," Max said somewhat doubtful.
Eleanor chuckled. "We made our peace, didn't we?"
"Yes."
"Then trust me," Eleanor said.
Hornigold held his paper high, ignoring her as she stood in front of him. "Fuck your pride," she told him, as she walked to his table and leaned over his paper. She knew it would insult and ire the captain, and yet he would never trust her if she was anything but insolent to him. "If I can swallow mine to be standing here, you'll do the same to listen." Hornigold put the paper down and eyed her sternly, sniffing his nose. "Because if you and I can't figure out a way to work together in this moment, everything may be lost."
Hornigold glared at her. But when he finally nodded and sasid, "Please sit and tell me what this is all about," that was at least a partial victory. Eleanor moved the chair opposite of him, sat down and explained the whole problem. "A secret caravan to move Rackham to a secret transport, and no one knows about this but you," Hornigold observed.
"Me, the governor, his cabinet, eight dragoons, their quartermaster, the carriage driver plenty of people know about it, just not you."
Hornigold grinned and nodded. "And you believe there's a plot underway to attack this secret caravan, a plot that somehow involves Captain Flint, whom everyone saw sail into open water hours ago."
For a moment Eleanor dropped her head. Why were men so stubborn and reluctant to listen to her? "Jesus! Chamberlain can ignore this. He doesn't know me, he doesn't know Bonny, he doesn't know Flint. Now, if it turns out that I'm right about this, he'll look like a fool, but at least his ignorance of the players involved will be some defense. If you choose to ignore me, it will be far harder for you to find an excuse."
Hornigold chuckled. "I watched it depart, the Walrus. Had a man with a glass watching her set sail, watching her clear the horizon and disappear –"
Fed up, Eleanor put her hands on the table and pushed herself up. "Do you know what? I don't have time for this." She turned away.
"Except for the glints of light!"
Eleanor widened her eyes, froze mid-step and whirled around. "What?"
"I had my man keep his glass to the spot on the horizon where the Walrus disappeared. And roughly every fifteen minutes, he reported seeing glints of light from her last position." He spoke loud enough for her escort to overhear it.
"What the fuck does that mean?" she whispered stepping towards Hornigold.
"Oh, it could mean nothing." Hornigold shrugged his shoulders. "Random artifact of sunlight off the water. Or it could be the reflection of a spyglass upon one of her masts the ship beneath bare poles, waiting silently, invisibly, for a signal to return."
Shit, shit, shit, she cursed silently. Max is right. I'm right. Flint and Anne have a plan. And this really, really might go very wrong.
"I beat him," said Hornigold through gritted teeth. "And then I watched him return from the dead to negate my victory, to watch his partner murder mine and aggravate the affront. You and I have our history, but Flint and I have unfinished business of a far more serious sort."
Eleanor looked at the older man sitting down, and smiled. "You'll send the militia after the governor's caravan?"
"Yes, and I will sail for the Walrus too." He rose and looked at her. "Because if we're too late in preventing the cache and Rackham from being taken again, then at least I may be on time to intercept them on sea."
(Beyond the Horizon: Flint's ship sits physically beneath bear poles, while Rogers comments on a mental perception when Rackham believes he'll be rescued. Everybody is blind to what lies beyond the horizon, which is why Eleanor's view of England's coming the previous two seasons was so limited. It's difficult to see the big picture, if all you know is a tiny sliver in the ocean. Eleanor's world view has physically widened. Anyone who stays on the island for a long time is susceptible to this line of limited thinking. Where Max wanted to make a life in Port Royal in Jamaica in S1, she cannot conceive that idea at all anymore.
Eleanor and Madi:Madi does not appear in this fanfic, but episode 3x08 contrasts them. While Madi tells Silver that her men will do as she says, without question, Eleanor struggles to make the men listen to her. The irony is that in later episodes Billy frames Eleanor as the tirant, and yet he does this for a pirate captain who is tirannical and told him in S1 he wants to be King of the Island as well as a Maroon Queen and Madi whose very word is law and who tortured and killed pirates without any trial at all. )