Over the next few years, life on Nemusmar was a bit more tranquil. Out at sea, in the practice of our chosen profession, this was not so. We lost a lot of good mates during those years. The merchants seemed better armed and more prepared. And patrols seemed to increase tenfold. But back on that island, 'twas a world apart from the relentless struggle to remain free and solvent. Annalea was blossoming into that young woman I now accepted she'd become. And due to her proliferating every type of native flower, me quarters–and all the surrounds–were continually bathed in exotic fragrances.

  There was a good deal of new construction on Nemusmar, at that time. With the increase of patrols, and other naval activities in general, the captain became convinced that discovery of our hideaway was inevitable. He knew we must have a strategy to discourage "visitors" and prepare ourselves for the defense of the island. I had suggested we simply attack and sink any ship that come within ten leagues of Nemusmar. But the captain scuttled me plan, and rightly so, saying as how that would attract more attention–and more patrols–to this area.

  "When at sea," he said, "we'll routinely scout along the outer shoals. We'll track any vessel we scope in our waters. If their approach is too close to the island, we'll attack from beyond: as if we'd been tracking them some great distance, and had just closed in. Whether we sink them or just chase them off, they must not be awares we were in these waters, waiting.

  "Ashore, we must prepare for a land battle. I want to see a bulwark on every defensible structure. And, along the entire shoreline, we'll need entrenchments and embankments, for fortification, as suits the terrain. As onboard ship, each man shall have a station assigned. We'll schedule regular military drills and mark time for the whole operation."

  "'Tis a fine plan, Cap'n," I commented. "This island fortress of Nemusmar shall be impenetrable!"

  "Were that it was so, Crockett. But, I fear, it is so only in your imagination."

  "How so, Cap'n, if we prepare all you've said?"

  His countenance reflected the grimness of his thought, as did his words, "We should have little trouble repelling occasional bands of freebooters or over-zealous adventurers, but I rue the day a royal patrol comes upon this blessed isle. Even should we repel them, others will come–in ever greater numbers–'til Nemusmar is vanquished. No, Crockett, me plan is not to fabricate an invincible island fortress. Me plan is threefold: to discover any menace, to protect ourselves from being overrun, and to evacuate our people and possessions in a ordered–yet expeditious–manner."

  "Leave Nemusmar, Cap'n?" I was truly taken aback.

  "We always knew the day would come, Mr. Crockett," he responded, "and I'm hopeful that day is yet far in the future. But we must be prepared for it. We must plan now!"

  And so we did. As a self-designated committee of two, the captain and meself (mostly, the captain) developed his ideas into a fully blown, highly detailed plan. We spent nearly a fortnight creating lists and diagrams. In the process, we inventoried every possession on the island, and all provisions and every person and all their attendant skills.

  In this, we had the considerable aid of Orke, Reena and Leona. Orke had knowledge of the fighting capability of every one of our mates. (He even knew the worth of cook, in close quarters confrontations.) Orke was the man to designate the best fighter for each station, and the captain seldom second-guessed his choices.

  Leona was the most likely candidate for her job, as well. Having been the personal slave (and a bit of a pet) to an old widowed woman who ran her plantation herself, Leona had learned more than a thing or two about managing people and projects: recognizing talents and matching skills with tasks. As her mistress became older and increasingly debilitated, it fell to Leona to manage the woman's estate and affairs. It amazes me that one so young and mild of manner could be so capable.

  And as it turned out, there were many skilled artisans and craftsmen within our "tribe." There were men who'd–in simpler days–been carpenters, blacksmiths, worked in the textile trade and so forth. We had even our own gunsmithy. As to those who'd always been sailors, there were many who'd worked wood and metal in ship's repairs, and the like. Leona found us a talent for every need and a use for every talent!

  And sweet Reena: she did as much in organizing the women's labour. That included those "ladies" who believed being "ladies" was enough to require of them. With angelic charm, her personable ways and the subtle skills of a diplomat (not to mention her seductive charisma), Reena could get the most effete "lady" to literally beg to cut and sew sackcloth.

  Annalea put her hand in this project, too. Much of the finished work had her stamp on it. Early on, she made plain that she'd not let our construction and confusion mar the beauty of her island. And so the captain assigned her the responsibility for oversight of finished structures, and a free hand to do as she see fit–so long as it not interfere with the function for which it was designed.

  Annalea had learned so much during her tenure on Nemusmar. From the ladies of the island, she learned of style, grace and elegance. And, thanks to Mam' Tiére's supervision of the process, Annalea learned to temper refinement with common sense and Christian courtesy. Her letters and ciphers she was owing to the captain and me; and her love of literature came out of the captain's voluminous library.

  We'd take credit for her discernment, too, but that was most likely a product of Mam's tutelage. Her kind, gentle nature was also the influence of Mam'. Her love of music and ability to perform was owing to as many good souls as we had to entertain her with the pipe and the fiddle and the rest. Once returned to England, our Annalea would shine in the company of any refined and educated young ladies.

  Me mind often stumbled over that thought: that thought of England, and Annalea leaving us–and of her family. What of her kin? We'd had naught back from them despite me continuing efforts as regards that matter. I'll grant you, as Annalea grew and me love for her grew, these efforts were conducted in a cursory–half-hearted–way; but me intentions were correct, and me desire to see her safe to home and happy in the bosom of loving kin was sincere. So I was perplexed and frustrated by the silence that followed me many despatches to England. Had I been mistaken in me research? Could I have selected the wrong correspondents? Could me despatches have failed to reach those correspondents? Yet, inquiries to others in that area had brung a timely response. I could not avoid these concerns, but I could not dwell upon them, either. Besides, every day without answer was another day with Annalea!

  Of course, me duties on ship and shore occupied me mind most of the time. This new project allowed me little time to idly mull over vagrant thoughts. And 'though the captain was gravely concerned for the urgency of our preparations, he shared his fears with none but meself. So, with no air of impending doom to cloud their attitudes, our island community embraced the project as a new adventure and an excuse to celebrate as each milestone was achieved.

  As to our possible evacuation, the captain kept these plans close to the vest, not wanting to spread needless anxiety amongst our people. All that the captain would reveal to them was the need to muster, each to a station other than first assigned, should he issue the command word, "congregate."

  "'Tis enough for them to be considering for now, Mr. Crockett," the captain told me. "More shall be revealed to them as the time appears appropriate."

  "But, 'congregate,' sir?" I asked him.

  He laughed and explained, "I needed a word I'd not commonly use–or accidentally utter."

  It mattered not to our people. They assumed this second station was a fall back, defensive position. No one, apparently, considered evacuation. And so the work went on smoothly, with the workers enjoying high spirits and good camaraderie. Every person was conscientious and every detail was attended. 'Twas our master plan, and it was masterfully conceived and executed.

  Chapter IX

  Carnage

 
Stephen Shore's Novels