Rackham wants Rogers to read some of his book and then reveals his life's story. The caravan comes under attack, with Rogers barely surviving it. While he loses the cache and Rackham, he captures Charles Vane instead. (Pure Rogers POV)

(Rogers POV only)

Chapter 23 - The Peerles Fighter

Rackham had fallen into a sullen silence, and Rogers was not the man to intrude on a man's thoughts while he was on his way to his death sentence. For this reason Rogers had brought the book along. He opened it and started to read where he last left off. Rackham's eyes moved from the view of the sea to the book. "What are you reading?"

"Marmion's Cupid & Psyche."

Rackham lifted his eyebrows in consternation. "I would not have thought you for a reading man."

Rogers smiled and settled his gaze on Rackham. "You supposed I was only a writing man?"

"Well, no," said Rackham. "I mean, it's a love story, right?"

"Yes, a sinful and dark one at that. Sham marriage, illegitimate child, lustful nights in the dark, betrayal, shunning, a journey into the underworld, and yet true love between two souls. Quite scandalous really."

Rackham grimaced. "That actually sounds quite good. Perhaps I could borrow it? Then I'd have something to read on the ship to Havana."

Rogers chuckled. "It was given to me by a friend, so I loathe to part with it. Perhaps I shall send a copy of it after you."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Well at least read me some of it then. You know as a last request."

Sighing, Rogers leafed a few pages back. "Here Psyche has wounded her Cupid and he punishes her for her betrayal." And in his most melodic, softest voice, he read,

"Was it for this I did thy plagues remove,
To pain myself? Strike mine own heart in love,
With mine own shaft, that after all this gear,
I should no better than a beast appear?
For this, wouldst thou cut off my head, which bore
Those eyes, that did thy beauty so adore?
And yet thou knowest, thou ungrateful wretch, how I
Did with my fears, thy mischiefs still imply,
And every day my cautions did renew,
The breath of which thou must for ever rue:
And each of these thy sisters, that were guide
To thy ill act, shall dearly it abide.
Yes I will punish thee no other way
But only this, I will forever stray
Far from thy sight;"

Rackham stretched his neck and positively glowered at Rogers by the end of the quote. "Hehe, funny," he said sarcastically. "Could I have less of a farewell over betrayal, but more of that soul love, instead?"

"Very well," said Rogers and leafed through another few pages. "How about a soul kiss?"

"Yes, a soul's kiss. That would set me up perfectly." Rackham closed his eyes and sat back in the seat of the carriage, shackled hands folded together.

"Now with her lips she labors all she may,
To suck his soul out, whilst he sleeping lay,
Till she at last through a transfused kiss,
Left her own soul, and was inspired by his:
And had her soul within his body stayed,
Till he herein his virtues had conveyed,
And all pollution would from thence remove,
Then, after all, her thoughts had been of love;
But since she could not both of them retain,
She restored his, and took her own again:
Sorry, that she was forced it to transfer;
And wished, though dead, that he might live in her."

A smile played on Rackham's lips. "Much better."

"Now, can I read for myself?" asked Rogers.

"By all means."

Rogers returned to the last he had read for himself. Abandoned Psyche tried to drown herself, but was saved by Pan who told her she showed all the signs of a woman in love, not to despair for she might win Cupid's love again. She met her treacherous sisters next and revealed all, including how Cupid had threatened to take one of her sisters to bed instead. One sister plunged to her death hoping Cupid would take her for his bride, but Thetis transformed her into a sea-gull, an evil bird who betrayed Psyche in Venus's ear.

He had just finished the first book and turned a page, when Rackham said, "My father was a tailor in Leeds." Rogers looked up from his book. "As was his father and his father's father. Time was if a man on the Avondale Road asked where he might find the finest clothes in northern England, he was pointed toward the shop of a man named Rackham." Rogers closed the book, leaving his finger on the last page he read. "Then the men who sell wool decide they'd prefer not to compete with the men who imported fine cotton. And as the men who sell wool have the ears of the men who make laws, an embargo is enacted to increase profits and calico disappears." In some ways, Rackham's calico story reminded him of the monopoly of the East Indy Company. "And my father's business that he inherited from his father and his father's father begins to wither and die. And my father suffers the compound shame of financial failure seen through the eyes of his son and descended into drink. I'd sit beside him as a boy at the Sunday service as he shouted at the pastor, at the altar at anyone who'd listen, really at the injustice of it all. And I'd put my arm over his shoulder as the insults began, help carry him out of the church.

"God, the insults. At his funeral, our neighbors were kind enough to whisper them rather than call them out loud. So, I set to work, determined to rebuild what had been taken away. I was thirteen years old. but I was determined until a man arrived at my door claiming to hold debts belonging to my father. Debts accumulated as my father drank. Debts he claimed that now belonged to me. Debts I could not possibly have hoped to repay. Debts over which this man would have seen me imprisoned -imprisoned in a place where the debts would have been discharged only through hard labor. Hard labor with no wages, working at - wait for it - the production of textiles. "

Rogers looked away, but the irony of it did amuse him. The world was full of it, in everybody's lives it seemed. Where Rackham had tried to rebuild the family's tailor business, Rogers sought to rebuild half the lost shipping business. While Rackham's father had accumulated the debt, it had been Rogers' wife. And where Rackham was pushed to labor in the production of textiles, Rogers sailed and led expeditions and ventures for his investors. Both had been born in merchant's independence, but life made them bound to others. Except, Rackham had chosen freedom and turned to piracy, whereas Rogers had sought the highest position he could achieve while serving another, as governor to the Crown.

But then Rackham spit his venom. "'You people, incapable of accepting the world as it is,' says the man to whom the world handed everything." Rackham glared at him. "If no Anne, if no rescue, if this is defeat for me, then know this. You and I were neck and neck in this race right till the end. But, Jesus, did I make up a lot of ground to catch you."

"You think the world's been that kind to me? That I'm that much softer than you? That much more fortunate?"

"Wealthy family, inherited Daddy's shipping business, married rich. I read your book –"

"But there are things you leave out of the book. Things you leave out because if it got around polite society what you're capable of when pushed, they might stop inviting you to their dinner parties." Rogers squinted at Rackham and lowered his voice. "All you know about me is what I want you to know."

Rackham grimaced and rolled his dark eyes away, when Major Rollins shouted, "Riders! Riders approaching!"

"Defend the governor!"

Rackham turned around to look through the rear window and then grinned triumphantly at Rogers who had stood to see with his own eyes what was the matter. Rogers looked daggers at Rackham, opened the side door and growled to the men riding beside the carriage, "Captain, fall back and engage! Defend the left flank!"

At that moment Rackham grabbed him from behind and dragged him back into the carriage. Rogers jabbed his elbow into Rackham when Rackham's chains were choking him. Fraught for air and reddening, he flung his elbow in Rackham's side a couple of times with little result. For a moment he stopped fighting Rackham and the pirate loosened his hold just enough for Rogers to smash his elbow into Rackham's face. Quickly, Rogers turned around and before Rackham could come back to his senses, Rogers pummeled Jack until he knocked him out.

"They're gaining, sir!" yelled one of his men, and as Rogers looked up and out of the rear window he saw seven black clad riders, their faces covered. His own men seated on the back of the carriage loaded their muskets. Only three regulars defended the rear still.

"Defend the governor!"

Rogers climbed out of the carriage, clinging to the side. "Faster! Don't spare the horses!" he roared. "Pistol!" he demanded from the guard on his roof. Shots were fired at their pursuers. "Hold your fire," he said to the young man at the back of the carriage beside him. "Wait till they're close."

"Sir!"

Rogers aimed, together with the lad beside him.

"Pick your targets!" shouted the major, just as two of the three regulars defending the rear were shot, as well as one of the black clad riders.

Too many! There are too many still! Just then the young man beside him screamed. The boy fell dead from the carriage onto the ground. Rogers shot a rider left of him. They were almost at level with the coach. Still five left! Bloody hell! He turned to command the naval guard on the roof, but he was dead too already. Half his brain lay sprawled across the roof. Only the major was still with him. Major Rollins engaged the rider on the right with his sword, but was cut down. One of the men in disguise climbed the back of the coach and grabbed Rogers by his coat. He flung at the man but missed and nearly fell off himself. The pirate punched him in the gut, but Rogers used the momentum of the swing to aim his pistol like a club. He hammered the pistol onto the man's head and shoulder, until he could kick him off the carriage. Everybody was dead, except for him and four disguised riders. Rogers clung to the coach that still raced ahead. And then a shot sounded. This is it. I'm done for. But he lived and the carriage began to wobble. The pirates had shot the axle of the wheel. The carriage veered to the left, and then Rogers flew in the air as the carriage toppled. Rogers spun and spun and knew no more.

He saw black first, when he opened his eyes, and then as his sight returned he only saw a fog of grey. Where am I? Am I dead? He blinked tears until light pierced his brain as if a knife went through. Surely, I wouldn't feel any pain if I was dead right? He tried to move, and he groaned. No bone seemed whole anymore. His head pounded severely. Rackham! Suddenly it all came back to him. Four of them left. The light stabilized and Rogers began to see colors. He willed his muscles to move. First his arms. Then his legs. Is that was the rack might have felt like? He ignored the pain, and began to see a landscape of trees and bushes – willed his body to stand up. He turned around. Rackham was ridden off to safety by one of the pirates. The rest had fled, except for one rider with his back turned to Rogers, standing beside a horse and ready to hoist himself up. His hair was long. Fucking Vane! Rogers discovered he still held the pistol. He lifted his arm. Charles Vane grabbed his saddle and lifted his foot seeking the stirrup to mount his black stallion. Oh, no you won't. Rogers released his shot.

Vane fell flat on his stomach, while the horse neighed and ran off. Growling in pain, Charles crawled on his belly on the road. "Go!" he shouted at the trees. More riders were riding hard to catch up - militia. Rogers limped towards Charles Vane, past the broken carriage. He flung the pistol away and picked up the broken axle. "Go! Go! Go!"

As Rogers approached with the axle held high, Vane turned over and aimed a pistol at him. Rogers fell on him and knocked the pistol out of Vane's hands just as the shot went off. Rogers lifted the axle again and swung it at Vane's legs and then on his back. Somehow, Vane had gotten his sword and swung it upwards in defense. Backing up, Rogers evaded it just in time. Vane crawled up, waving the sword at him. Rogers blocked it, and used the rotation resulting from his own swing to smash his improvised club in Vane's face. Vane fell down again. Rogers dropped the axle, but this time Vane blocked the impact with his sword and knocked the hilt into Rogers' groin. He doubled over and then Vane's fist landed on his chin. Rogers stumbled back into the carriage. Vane struggled up, using the tip of his sword, but Rogers saw his chance. He swung the axle at Vane's legs to topple him and knocked the sword out of the pirate's hands. Down! And you're staying down! Rogers kept hitting Vane on the back with the axle. Vane grabbed him by the waistcoat and pummeled his fist into his stomach and then into his face. Rogers staggered back and fell on his back. The fighter that Eleanor had warned him about, crawled on top of him, lifted him by the waistcoat and hit him in the face again. But Rogers was a fighter too. With sheer power of will, more than whatever energy he had left (none), he pulled and he tugged, despite getting another fist onto his brow. I just have to hang onto him, until ...

Militia men dragged Vane off Rogers by the arms. "Put him down!" one of them hollered. Seeing that there were enough of the militia to take care of Vane, Rogers gave in at last and laid his head on the dust road to rest.

"My lord," a militia man approached him with a waterbag and went down on his knee. He held it to his lips and, parched, Rogers drank it.

Rogers would need more than water to recuperate, but the freshness gave him the spark of energy to try and stand again. All he had as strength for was lifting his head. "Rackham and the cache?"

The man shook his head at him. "Just Vane, my lord."

"Well, it's something," he wheezed, and slowly sat. He held the waterbag in one hand, his knees drawn up and his head sagging.

The eldest of the militia joined them, holding a riderless black stallion by the reigns in readiness for him. "Captain Hornigold sailed for the last location where Flint was seen. He believes he lay at bear poles beyond the horizon, my lord. He may still intercept Rackham and the cache. All is not lost."

Rogers sighed. "I believe I offered a reward for anyone who caught Vane. I will make sure you all have a share in it." He lifted his hand and the younger man seated on his hunches beside him gripped his hand. "What's your name, young man?"

"Samuel Johnson, my lord."

Rogers used Samuel's grip to crawl up and stand. "Thank you, Samuel." Dizzy, Rogers wavered on his legs. Another man offered him a shoulder to lean on. "There's a book inside the carriage. I want it." As they helped him on one of the black horses, he croaked, "Who sent you? How did you know?"

"Miss Guthrie suspected something was amiss and contacted Captain Hornigold about it, sir," said the leader.

Eleanor! How had she known? And then he wondered whether God had truly sent him some guardian angel when he blew her across an ocean to London in a ship. She's the only one I can count on. Though a spidery voice whispered that the sole result so far was Charles Vane's capture. More irony? "And the regulars?"

The militia's captain shook his head. "I don't know anything about them, my lord."

The militia had bound Vane and put him on a horse as well. The pirate had spat on the ground as soon as Eleanor's name was dropped. Rogers wielded the horse around. Every step of the horse, every bounce hurt. Not a single bone, muscle or soft area of his body seemed to have been spared. Rogers studied the angry brooding pirate, head to toe. So, this man is my rival. He was brawny and muscular. The darkly tanned pirate had a beak nose and exotic high cheek bones.

Vane's sky blue eyes needled him. "Didn't like that I spit on her, did you?" His voice was gruff and hoarse.

"A peerless fighter, she called you," said Rogers.

"You may wear a fancy suit and tie, but you fight dirty, I'll give you that." Vane indicated the militia men around them. "Still, I would have killed you if not for these men and then this – England in Nassau - would all have been over already."

"Perhaps. You are a peerless fighter, I'll give her that."

Vane leaned closer, grinned and sneered. "Of course, you and I both know this is only a delay of your execution by Spain. The island will never be yours."

Rogers glared at Vane. "What is certain is that she will never be yours again." Vane tried to lunge for him and Rogers added, "I meant the island."

"She'll betray you, use you when it suits her, for the next man that tells her what she wants to hear," growled Vane. "And I'm not talking about the island!"

Rogers urged his horse along and away from Vane. It's a good thing then, thought Rogers, that I often tell her things she does not want to hear.

"She's a good fuck though, I'll give her that!" the pirate shouted.

"Gag him," said Rogers, and they started on the long and slow way back for Fort Nassau.

(Cupid & Psyche: two passages of Marmion's book are read by Rogers to Rackham. The first passage are Cupid's angry words at Psyche for attempting to murder him, to look upon his face, for finding out his identity and wounding him. The second passage about the soul kiss come from a scene where Psyche kisses sleeping Cupid before taking the sword with the intent to kill him (believing him to be a monster) and light the lamp to verify whether he is a monster. For Rackham it is an extension of the conversation he had with Rogers about making Anne Bonny believe he was being tortured and her betrayal of his orders based on a rose, as well as a farewell to Anne in his mind. In 3x08 Anne kisses Rackham awake during the rescue operation. Rogers' affair with Eleanor is what gave Chamberlain the perfect excuse to completely dismiss Eleanor's warning, and thus ends up wounding Rogers: physically, loss of the cache and Rackham.

Rogers versus Vane: The show didn't have a convo between these two. They set Rogers against the three main pirates in a scene reflecting Eleanor's words or advice about them: Flint is "reasonable" so Rogers reasons with him, Rackham "cares about his legacy" so Rogers dangles legacy in front of Rackham (and wears fancy clothes), Vane is the "peerless fighter" so Rogers fights him. Of the men who fought Vane, only Flint and Rogers came away from it alive, both because Eleanor intervenes. Vane is relentless. Even as it becomes clear he'll be caught by the millitia, he does not surrender but tries to get more punches in. Later in the dungeon with Eleanor, he tries to destroy and ruin the one good memory she has of her father. So, bested in a fight, I have him trying to sow distrust in Rogers of Eleanor and soil her reputation. Let's not kid ourselves - if Rogers and Vane spoke it eventually would end up being about Eleanor.)