Prologue
April 1798
Cable Bay, Bermuda
* * *
Andrew McNeal tucked his loaded pistol into the back of his breeches. He reached for one of the lit torches, which hung from a bracket on the wall just inside the front door of his home.
“No lights,” snapped his father.
His arm quickly dropped, and he fell in behind the rest of the small group of men as they headed outside. He knew better than to challenge his father’s orders. At the ripe old age of thirteen, Andrew had already experienced first-hand the full fury of James McNeal’s wrath. Being whipped in front of a ship full of pirates wasn’t something he wished to ever endure again.
James McNeal led the group as they moved stealthily across the small clearing that had once been a well-tended garden, and into the cedar forest which abutted the yard of the now neglected property. The narrow path, which ran between the trees, led down to the beach.
Where are we going?
He desperately wished to ask that question, but the rule of silence was golden. His father was in the lead, followed by two of his most trusted men. Then came Andrew. Bringing up the rear was the towering form of Nevis, a former slave whom James had liberated from the island which gave him his name.
They were well clear of the house when a sharp whistle pierced the heavy night air. James held up his hand and the small party immediately came to a halt.
Nevis stepped up to stand alongside Andrew, placing a protective hand on his shoulder. The boy glanced up at the six-foot seven-inch man, but Nevis shook his head. He had no answer to Andrew’s silent query. The purpose of tonight’s expedition was strangely being kept a closely guarded secret.
Things must be dangerous if Nevis doesn’t know what is happening. Father always takes him into his confidence.
Movement amongst the trees on the path ahead, had Andrew reaching under the back of his jacket and retrieving his pistol. He was about to cock the weapon when his father let out a sigh.
“About bloody time,” said James.
“Kent to Bermuda is not quite the same as a leisurely stroll across Hyde Park,” came the brisk reply.
The stranger in the dark was well-spoken, his accent similar to that of Andrew’s father. The glow of a light appeared, and a smartly dressed gentleman came into view. He was accompanied by another man, who was also attired in respectable clothing. From their manner of dress, it was clear, they were not from this part of the world.
Andrew peered at them. The first man had facial features very similar to James. The same hook nose and slightly lopsided grin.
“Yes, well, your timing was always a little off, but I think you might have just made it with a minute or two to spare,” replied James.
The two men greeted each other with the merest of hugs.
So, they do know one another.
As they drew apart, an almighty explosion boomed through the air. It was quickly followed by loud cries and the unmistakable sound of gunshots. Andrew whirled round to see flames leap high into the night sky.
He didn’t need to ask Nevis what had just happened. It was obvious that James McNeal had finally made good on his threat to blow up Hezekiah Frith’s ship. War had been declared in Cable Bay.
James chuckled. “I see you brought trouble with you.”
The other man slowly shook his head. “You have always been more than capable of creating your own havoc, dear brother. Or are you going to pretend that you didn’t have a hand in that piece of mischief?”
Andrew stifled a grin. Of course, his father was involved.
“It’s my handiwork. That blackguard Frith has been overstepping again. Trading in slaves. I’ve told him more than once; I won’t stand for it. Bermuda needs to have free men, not those bound in chains. Forcing him out of the privateering business is a clean sweep. A changing of the guard so as to speak.”
“Speaking of changes. Is the boy ready?”
James’s shoulders dropped. “You mean my son?”
“My heir.”
