The Time Pirate (36 page)

Despite his excitement over the story of the Battle of Yorktown, Nick felt his sleepy eyes longing to close. Then he read the following passage:

General George Washington hoped to trap Cornwallis at Yorktown and defeat him. A victory now would mean the end of conflict and independence for America. Lafayette, already in place, was blocking Cornwallis' escape by land. Meanwhile, a
French fleet,
under the command of Admiral de Grasse, was scheduled to arrive at Chesapeake Bay to prevent Cornwallis from escaping by sea. Cornwallis desperately called for help but none came. The British were surrounded, low on ammunition, and quickly running out of food. On October 19th, 1781, General Cornwallis surrendered. The Battle of Yorktown brought an end to the Revolutionary War. The Americans were victorious. But Washington's victory was made possible only by the timely arrival of the French fleet under Admiral de Grasse.

Nick's eyes opened wide. If Billy Blood's great pirate armada succeeded in ambushing de Grasse's fleet en route from the Caribbean to Yorktown, Virginia, the outcome was certain.
The Americans would lose the Revolutionary War. There would be no America.

Somehow Nick seemed to feel, he had to warn Washington of Blood's lurking armada, lying in wait for de Grasse off the coast of Nassau.

He yawned and turned out his light. He was going to need all the rest he could get if he was going to set out for Virginia in the year 1781.

As Nick drifted toward slumber that night, Churchill's dire warning kept repeating and reverberating in his mind. “If the American's don't come to England's aid, we cannot defeat the Nazis.”

Realization struck like lightning.

In order for there to be an America to come to England's aid in 1940, it meant there had to be an America! The Americans had to win at Yorktown. Of course!

And it meant that Nicholas McIver, a boy who loved England above all else, would have to do all in his power to help ensure his own country's most humiliating defeat.

There was a name for what he was about to do.

“Treason,” he whispered in the dark.

And with that terrible word dying on his lips, the boy rolled over and slept fitfully until dawn.

G
eneral George Washington!” Gunner exclaimed. “But he's the bloody enemy!”

Gunner and Nick were upstairs in the Armoury at the Greybeard Inn. They had Kate's notes and all the charts stolen from inside Blood's desk in Port Royal spread out upon the round table. De Grasse, with twenty-eight warships and five thousand French troops, would most surely sail southwest once he'd reached Jamaica, set a course between Mexico and Cuba, and then veer northwest through the straits of Florida. The seven-mile-an-hour northerly current of the Gulf Stream would help his heavily laden ships make good time.

But lying in wait for him, just off the northeast coast of Nassau Town, would be Captain William Blood's pirate armada, numbering some one hundred ships! The gravely outnumbered French fleet would be lambs to the slaughter. Burned after the treasure had been offloaded, sunk without a trace.

Nick looked at Gunner, thinking about how to reply to the outrage at his plan. “Washington may have been England's enemy then,” Nick replied, tracing de Grasse's route north on the chart with his finger, “but his America is England's only hope now.”

“Which means?”

“I heard it from Prime Minister Churchill himself, Gunner. Unless America comes into this war on England's side, we've no chance at all of defeating Hitler and the Nazis.”

“He told you that, did he?” Gunner said, expelling a blue cloud of pipe smoke into the air.

“He did indeed, sir.”

“And there will only
be
an America if they win their Revolution against our Crown.”

“Correct.”

“We couldn't have beat the Germans without the Yanks' help in the First World War, I'll grant you that,” Gunner said, musing upon the situation.

“And we can't do it in this one, either, Gunner, believe me! That's all there is to it. Unless I act, and now, England will be defeated. Hitler will crush us beneath his hobnail boots.”

“You propose to warn General Washington about Blood's armada?”

“It's the hardest decision I've ever had to make, Gunner. I'm sacrificing everything I believe in, except duty, of course.”

“And you think it's your duty to warn our enemy. Give them information which will ensure our own country's defeat?”

“I do.”

“It's treason, Nick. Plain and simple.”

“I know.”

“You'll hang for it, lad, if yer caught, and die a traitor.”

“I know.”

“You don't care.”

“I do not.”

“I was afraid you'd say that.”

“Sometimes the ends justify the means. Will you help me, Gunner?”

“Of course I'll help ye, boy, God save me. When have I not? What's yer plan?”

“According to Kate's notes, Blood sails for New Providence Island on this date logged here. It will take him approximately one week, by my calculations, to reach Nassau Town's harbor.”

“And just how do you plan to stop an entire armada of those murderous dogs?”

“I'll need help, that's for sure. First, I must use the orb, travel to Virginia, arriving near Washington's home, Mount Vernon, in early September 1781. Just as de Grasse sails from Saint Domingue. The Americans have our troops under siege at Yorktown. But there's a lot of fighting going on in the countryside still, skirmishes between our Redcoats and Layfayette's Continentals, trying to rally the Virginia militia. And Indians, too, tribes fighting for both sides. I'll need some kind of believable disguise. I was thinking of a regimental drummer boy.”

“Drummer boy, eh? On whose side?”

“Ours. If the Redcoats see me, I've no problems.”

“What about the Continentals? If they see you, they'll shoot you.”

“I'll take my chances.”

“I've a book up there on the shelf.
Military Uniforms of the British Empire
. We could use that for yer outfit. And I'm pretty handy with a needle and thread; y' know.”

“That was my thinking, Gunner.”

“What else?”

“Well, here's my thought, sir, and if you've got a better one, please don't be shy.”

“Spit it out.”

“I know from my history book that General Washington
makes a stop at his home, Mount Vernon, en route to Yorktown, to see his wife, Martha. His first visit home in six years.”

“I'm listnin'.”

“I want to arrive at Mount Vernon first. I want to be there when Washington arrives home. It's the only sure way I can guarantee our paths will cross.”

“You know from yer books the exact date on which he arrives?”

“I do. September 9, 1781. Having ridden sixty miles from Baltimore in a single day.”

“And, for the orb, we can get the longitude and latitude coordinates for that part of Virginia from a modern chart.”

“We can, sir. The general's great white house sits high on a hilltop overlooking the Potomac River. Not far from Williamsburg, Virginia. And Yorktown.”

Gunner tipped his chair back and interlaced his fingers behind his snow-white head. His little gold spectacles were so low on his nose, Nick thought they might drop off. “There's one little matter we need to discuss, boy, afore I help you.”

“Anything.”

“You'll remember when we first used the golden orb to go back in time and help your ancestor Captain McIver defeat Billy Blood in 1805?”

“I'll never forget it. Admiral Lord Nelson made sure of that.”

“And do you remember a solemn oath we all swore to, at Lord Hawke's insistence? Before we used the machine? A sworn promise to, as he called it, ‘protect the flow of history'?”

“To not intercede in major historical events in a way that might have dangerous unintended consequences in the future. Yes, I remember.”

“You're aiming to break that vow.”

“Gunner, I appreciate what you're saying. But in order to save our country in the future, I've decided I've no choice but to betray her in the past. It's been a frightful decision to make, and it may yet have disastrous consequences. But I'm afraid I shall have to betray England and Lord Hawke, as well. I have no other choice.”

“You'll brook no argument, I can see it, then. You are bound for America, no matter what good sense I offer.”

“As Admiral Lord Nelson said, ‘If a man consults whether he is to fight, when he has the power in his own hands, it is certain that his opinion is against fighting.' ”

“Nelson said that?”

“Of course those are Nelson's words, Gunner. He's the only one who sees me through these treacherous times. Duty first, last, and always.”

“You've thought it all through, seems like.”

“As well as I'm able. I love reading history, but I am no scholar. Meanwhile, my own dear father is still held in hospital by the Nazis for attacking a soldier beating my mother. I have vowed to do everything in my power to help Mr. Churchill defeat this evil madman Hitler. I will lie, betray, cheat, and steal, Gunner, anything, if I have the remotest chance to help save England.”

“Despite everything I've said, you'll risk life and limb to betray your own country?”

“It's simply my duty. As I see it, anyway.”

Gunner looked deep into Nick's eyes, sighed, and looked away. It was hopeless. “I'll retrieve the orb from the gun safe. Meantimes, you can start entering yer calculations. Then I'll start sewing you a fine drummer boy's uniform, copy it from the book down to the last button, I will.”

“Thank you, Gunner.”

“Ain't nothing any friend wouldn't do for another. But I'm thinking, despite my objections, I should be going with you, lad.”

“Why?”

“Why? Well, a boy all on his own in uncivilized territory with a war going on. All that blood and thunder. Indians, too, as I recall. Boy like that could use a former military man like meself handy with weaponry, like that blunderbuss Old Thunder up there on the wall.”

Nick glanced up at the gun. Gunner could kill a gnat at one hundred paces with that antique. “Gunner, from what I've read, aside from their disloyalty to King George, these Americans are quite civilized. Most of them, anyway.”

“Civility only goes so far in wartime, Nick. You'll be wearing a red coat, sure enough, if I can scrape up some broad-cloth the proper shade of scarlet. And that is as good a target as any other for those country farmer American sharpshooters, I'd reckon.”

“Yet you, too, would betray king and country for this cause, Gunner?”

“For you, yes, I would, boy. I guess I've always loved you like a son, had I ever been lucky enough so as to have one of my own.”

His friend turned away and went to his gun safe, hidden behind a hinged false bookcase in the Armoury. A moment later, he was back. “Here's your magnificent Tempus Machina, lad,” Gunner said, his eyes shining with tears. “Only because yer so bound and determined to go to war, in God's holy name. But, Good Lord, I do hate to see you go alone.”

Nick smiled and put his hand on Gunner's shoulder. “I think I might be better off all by myself, with all respect, Gunner. I'll need to be able to move with the situation pretty
quickly, I think, if I'm to get within spitting distance of General Washington.”

“You'll be wearing a red coat, not a blue one. You get within spitting distance of the general, he might just shoot you himself.”

“I don't think so.”

“Why not?”

“I have a plan.”

“You always do. I pray it's a good one, Nick.”

“I've been praying so all night.”

“Then, Godspeed, Nicholas McIver. Go do yer duty. As you see it, at any rate.”