The journey back to the Bourbon Monastery was uneventful. John sat with his thoughts, wondering what course of action would be best to remove Abbot Gregory from power. He deserved anything John could think of and more, but John wanted to limit the collateral damage if he could. Scoundrel, heathen, thief, killer, and pirate yes, but a complete monster, John was not.
He arrived at the Monastery, and was greeted by Brother Diego, John’s friend, and brother in spirit. The Spaniard, as many of the brothers called him, was also a former physician turned pirate. He and John had met when they were both running from the authorities in Havana after a tavern brawl. They were fast friends with common pasts, and even more similar new lives.
Diego muttered, “Abbot Gregory sent word during dinner you had been captured in Nassau.”
John chuckled, “So he confirms he had his hand in it? I thought as much, but wasn’t sure. He also made a deal with demons to take out Captain Redbeard.”
Diego stopped short, a look of horror that morphed into rage on his face. He turned to face John, “Would he sink so low just to be rid of you and your friends?”
John sighed. He knew many of the men in power in the Church were less then pious. He even suspected some, Gregory in particular, had succumbed to the temptations of the netherworld. This would be a delicate and difficult undertaking to remove Gregory. “Are you with me, Brother?” John inquired.
Diego lowered his head, “Without a doubt! Just our bond as brothers and pirates would be enough. But this is even worse. We both have our share of vices that aren’t within the Church’s teachings, but even we wouldn’t stoop the demon worship. I’ve dabbled in brujeria, but never for malicious or nefarious acts!”
“Aye my friend, your magic just causes me more work and makes others laugh. But I digress. Let’s adjourn to my cell, Gods I hate that term, and discuss this in private.”
Once they were in John’s cell and certain they wouldn’t be overheard, John asked, “Who can we count on?”
Diego lowered his voice despite the precautions, “Nicholas for certain, about half the Monastery seemed to be whispering that they would be happy under new leadership. And there is another who just arrived, claiming to be your actual brother.”
Shocked by this revelation, John stared for several moments. A single tear escaped his eye and then he grinned, “Did he provide any proof?”
Diego handed John a signet ring. It indeed had his father’s design. Only three people knew of these, much less had possession. Either it was Steven, or something terrible had happened to him. “Take me to him.”
Before they could leave John’s cell, a brother stopped them, “Abbot Gregory requests your presence in the rectory.”
“Tell him I will join him momentarily. I have to see someone first”
“It is more a demand and summons than a request,” the brother retorted angrily. “You are to come with me immediately. Brother Diego, return to your cell and pray for guidance, you should not consort with such filth. It is unbecoming.”
Diego looked to John, who simply nodded and met his eyes. Diego knew John was planning something and did as was requested, retreating to his own cell.
John arrived at the rectory with the brother, Jacob if he remembered correctly, a sniveling weasel of a man who would be three feet up the Abbot’s ass if Gregory stopped short, and they went upstairs to the door to the Abbot’s personal chambers. Brother Jacob knocked and a muffled voice said, “Come.”
Brother Jacob opened the door and motioned John to enter, closing the door behind him. Leaving John alone with the Abbot. Abbot Gregory sat at his desk; a sinister smile barely concealed. “Ah, our wayward monk. Or should I call you The Mad Monk, the Cannon Ball Dodger, the Felon Physician, the Pious Pirate John?”
“John will do,” John quipped a smirk painted plainly on his face. “To what to I owe the honor of a summons from Abbot Gregory the Demon Hunter?”
“I have one piece of good news and two pieces of news that are definitely not good. First your brother Steven has come to the Monastery to visit and claims to want to join us. A touching sentiment, but two Sinclairs cannot be a good thing for ANY place. Next, although Cardinal Benedict asks that you merely be confined to your cell for the remainder of your days, I have decreed you will be turned over to the British crown when they arrive in one week. Then you will surely be put to death as you so richly deserve.”
John waited a few minutes, concern on his face, not from the last bit of news, but wondering what could be the second bad revelation? “And the other piece of bad news?’
Gregory openly smiled, genuine glee shining on his face. “Your father is dead! Put to death for devil worship. Your brother clearly escaped the constables if he made it here. Do not worry, you and he will be joining each other on the journey back to England. Your family titles have been stripped, and your family’s lands and holdings will be given to the Cecils. Fitting as you have spent decades harassing, brutalizing, and slandering their heir, Scott. You will be confined in the basement under guard until the Navy arrives.”
John, shaking with anger and sorrow bellowed, “Like hell I will! You are the devil worshiper! You set this up to take me down. Had you only gone after me, I may have only beaten you senseless. But you went after my family and for that, YOU DIE HERE!”
The door burst open and eight brothers moved into the room armed with staves, cudgels, and flails. John spun to intercept them, but was bludgeoned from all angles. Three or four he could handle, but eight, no one is that good. Battered and barely conscious, John was placed in a storeroom in the basement. The door slammed shut and barricaded. John slowly sat up and attempted to clear the buzzing in his head. Someone moved toward him in the darkened storeroom. “Are you aright John?”
The buzzing ceased. John looked up and saw a face he had not seen in years. Tears of joy and sorrow welled up as he embraced his brother for the first time since he left home. “Steven, I am so sorry that my actions have brought you to this fate.”
Steven held John back at arm’s length and smiled through the tears, “I was always proud to be your brother. Father, though he never said it allowed, also found your exploits to be entertaining. He always said, If you can’t be good son, be good at it! He was no devil worshiper though, and I am certain neither are you.”
“No, Steven, that would be Gregory. I have been carefully gathering information to prove it, but unfortunately, he outflanked me in this. However, he didn’t count on my roguish charm. We have allies here. We just have to wait until they come to free us. The gallows await only Gregory.”
It was well past midnight when there was a commotion outside the door, several thuds and muffled groans. Then the barricade was lifted and the door creaked open. Waiting there with triumphant looks on their faces were Brothers Diego and Nicholas. Diego’s face sobered, “Three quarters of the Monastery revolted when they heard what happened to you. The rest, including Gregory barricaded themselves in the distillery. I assume they hope to hold out until the British Navy arrives to take you two into custody. What’s the plan?”
John stood tall, the aches and pains from the night’s beating and years of hard living vanished, “Gather everyone in the dining hall, I will go clean up and join you there to address them.”
Diego and Nicholas left to gather the brothers. John and Steven went to John’s cell. Once there, John began refreshing himself and changed into fresh robes. He handed another set to Steven. “You told them you were here to join. Was that the truth?”
Steven paused, “It wasn’t at first, but now, I think not only is it my one good option, it should be fun. You can’t be the only infamous one in the family.”
They both laughed heartily. John grabbed his old rapier and tossed it to Steven, “You took up fencing as well, I hope.”
“Of course, but I prefer a broad sword, won’t you need this?”
John reached under his cot and pulled out a broad sword and handed over. “No, I haven’t used a sword in years. The quarterstaff is more to my liking, and if that fails, I can always use my own hands. Much has changed since we were young.”
Steven put on the robes, John grabbed his knotted staff and pulled a pair of flint lock pistols from his desk. He handed one to Steven, “Much has changed.”
They both headed to the dining hall. Steven glanced at his brother, seeing him after all these years was amazing. But John had changed, he was hardened steel in that moment. The same look on his face their father often had when it was time for discipline. But there was a deadlier edge to it with John. “What has he seen and done in these past twenty years?” Steven thought to himself.
They arrived in the dining hall to the allied brothers gathered. A hush settled as they entered. Diego and Nicholas were up at the dais. John nodded to the side and Steven took up post near the door. He continued through the crowd to the front and stepped up on the dais. “My brothers, thank you for your friendship, and especially for your courage. Gregory is unfit to lead the Monastery. One he is a hypocritical, pompous ass. Second, he has been consorting with demons and other beings, and persons of evil. I am no saint, but this I can not abide. We will remove Gregory from the living, and any others who have sided with him. After that we will decide who will be the next Abbot. The Bourbon Monastery has and will always be a sanctuary for pirates. Many of you fall into that realm. Cardinal Benedict has backed this, and I am sure he will continue to do so. If any of you are not up to the task of removing Gregory and his cronies, you may sit this out and no one will hold it against you. I will not demand this of any of you, and will humbly ask for your assistance. So, who will stand with me?”
Everyone in the room cheered. It seemed there were more rogues here than John had thought. John led the mob to the distillery. They approached in the darkness, clouds shrouding the moon. The doors to the distillery were barricaded from the inside. John pounded on the doors. Brother Jacob opened the small portal in the door and peered out. John pulled out his flint lock and shot Jacob between the eyes. “Break down these doors!”
John stepped aside as several brothers approached with a large log to ram the doors in. A few swings and the door fell away. Chaos ensued as the rebel brothers poured into the distillery. Sheer numbers made it a route. But Gregory was nowhere to be found. John issued orders to hold and clear the distillery and begin assessing damage. He then told Steven, Diego and Nicholas to join him in pursuit of Gregory. They searched the entire Monastery, grounds, cloister, and distillery all. No trace of Gregory was found. They then went to Gregory’s chambers. Once there they noticed a folding ladder leading through to the roof. John asked them to wait in the chambers as he climbed the ladder up to the roof.
As he climbed onto the roof the loud crack of a flint lock sounded through the night. The shot grazed John’s temple. “Gregory!”
Gregory turned to run across the roof. John quickly caught him and tripped him with his staff. He then pounced on Gregory and rained a flurry of heavy blows bouncing his head off the roof violently. Dazed, broken and bloody, Gregory begged, “P-p-please, mercy.” John simply lifted Gregory and hurled him from the roof four stories up. He landed head first with a sickening crunch.
“See you in hell, bastard!”
When the Navy arrived John and Steven hid out in a newly hollowed out crawl space under the distillery. Diego told them John broke Steven from his confinement and fled the island. He also informed them of Gregory’s “suicide” and they were awaiting word from Cardinal Benedict. They searched the grounds and took him at his word. Requesting if they receive any information about the whereabouts of the Sinclair brothers to inform them immediately.
A few weeks later, John sat at Gregory’s old desk. Diego and Steven stood nearby. They sent word to Cardinal Benedict that Gregory, in a final act of remorse for his devil worship threw himself from the bell tower. They awaited word from the Cardinal as to who would serve as Abbot. Nicholas entered with a letter in hand. “The Cardinal responded. It seems Rome was aware of Gregory’s proclivities and was about to bring him there to stand trial for such. He also states that he’s sure Gregory did not jump, but he is not upset with the outcome. As to who will serve as Abbot, he said only one person could possibly be it and all the brothers here agree. It is to be you, John. Rome has contacted the crown, and although they will not pardon you they have agreed not to pursue you so long as you remain at the Monastery until your death. He also said he knows you probably will not follow that edict but begs caution, when you do venture out.”
John sat back and smiled. “Well, you four will be my advisors. We will continue the front of a monastery and definitely continue with the distillery. We will of course be a sanctuary for pirates who seek refuge. But none of those silly vows, to the world at large we will be humble monks in service to God. But to those who truly matter, we will forever more be part of the ARC.”
It seemed ages since Brother John left the conclave, Captain Redbeard sat in his quarters. Plotting the next course, likely The Festival, that glorious gathering of rogues, misfits, and bards in Florida. Toringard knocked and entered, followed by Antonio. “A message for you Captain. It bears the Bourbon Monastery’s seal.”
Captain Redbeard, broke the seal and opened the letter. He read it, sat back and laughed, “The daft bastard did it!” He handed it over and they each read it in turn.
Dear Francis, my Captain, my friend, my brother,
The Monastery is ours. I’ll see you at the festival!
Abbott John Sinclair
Written by John W.
