Black Sails (2014–2017): Season 2, Episode 8 - XVI. - full transcript

When you return, are
you going to explain to Peter

what it is you're trying
to accomplish here?

A Nassau
that can self-govern.

This is not a man
that we can negotiate with,

- that I can negotiate with.
- Of course you can.

Because you will have just presented
him with his only daughter.

I can only scavenge
leads for so long.

I have an appetite for
something larger than that.

For this, I need
a partner I can trust.

A launch landed on
the beach a short while ago.

They told Flint the gold was gone.
What did they tell you?



The Urca gold
is on that beach.

It is almost
entirely undefended.

Do you know of a crew who might be
willing to aid in this endeavor?

Abigail, you are
no longer a hostage.

I'm going to
get you out of here.

So, what's the plan?

Leave me to answer
for this among the men?

My death sentence.
You will hear from me again.

- You're Captain Flint?
- My name is James.

James McGraw.

It's all right.
You're all right.

I'm here.

Shh, shh.

Shh.



No! No!

No! No!

Shh, it's all right.
I'm here.

Shh, you're all right.

Last night was
the first of my journey home.

Still, my dreams are haunted
by the faces of those pirates

that first captured me.

Now I
find myself in the custody

of another band
of pirates.

I'm told
they're different,

and I will say
that so far these men

have treated me civilly,
even courteously.

They've even afforded me the
tools to keep this journal.

And though they will
almost certainly

destroy these pages
before we disembark,

eliminating any record

of their activities
or their identities...

just the act of putting
my thoughts to paper

has helped me
feel myself again.

To construct for myself
an illusion

that I'm still
on the Good Fortune

nearing the end
of a long voyage,

recent events were themselves
the nightmare,

and that these men
are simply sailors

tasked with
delivering me home.

Get off me, I tell you!
I'll kill you!

Hey, hey, come on!
Stop, you!

I said cut it out.

I don't know who started it,
but it stops right now.

Take him away!
Get back to work!

But it is only an illusion.

And a fragile one at that.

My father
told me about these men,

about their natures,

so I know that any appearance
of civility from them

is but a glimpse
of the men they once were.

A ghost that shows itself
only while the darker things

that now govern
their souls lay dormant.

Though I'm forced to wonder

if this illusion
is no accident at all,

but theater
for my benefit,

orchestrated
by someone so awful,

even monsters such as these
have no choice

but to dance to the tune
he plays for them.

Which leads me
to the one thought

I find most frightening

and most difficult
to dismiss.

What happens if that man
decides the theater

no longer
serves his purposes

and he lets
the monsters loose?

Everything all right?

Yes.

I'm all right.

She was
writing about me.

Do you think?

I suppose
I can't blame her.

A girl her age with what
she's been through.

It's a credit to her that
she can function at all.

Look at her.

When I first learned
she was on the island,

I saw in my mind
a five-year-old child

hiding behind
her mother's dress.

Then I saw her.

I realized
she's a woman.

It's like she's
some sort of clock

that's finally
struck its chime

and woken me from this
dream we've been living,

reminded me how many
years separate me

from a world
I still think of as home.

How unrecognizable
the woman I am now

would be to the woman
I was then.

I recognize you.

You recognize me?

Yes.

So that's in our favor.

The question is...

will Peter recognize
either one of us?

Five million pieces.

Five million
fucking pieces.

Five million pieces.

Jesus Christ.

How in the fuck

am I supposed
to prepare to carry

five million pieces
of eight across an ocean

without anybody
knowing I'm doing it?!

I don't know, but perhaps if
you asked a little louder,

there might be someone on
the moon who could help you.

Why don't we lower our
voices and begin again?

Have you begun the men
clearing the ship's hold?

Everything that
isn't bolted down

is being moved
onto the sand.

I told him
I needed to refigure

how she was
carrying her weight.

- Is that something one does?
- No.

It's all I could think of given
that there's no good reason

to empty a ship
while she's in the bay

unless you're making room to fill
that space with something else.

"Oi, Featherstone, what is
it we're making space for

by emptying
all this stuff?"

"Oh, nothing, gents.
I just want to..."

Try to refigure how she's
carrying her weight?

"...refigure how she's
carrying her weight," exactly.

Fuck!

Even if somehow
we can set sail

to retrieve this gold
without anyone knowing it,

even if the intelligence is correct
and the gold is retrievable,

we haven't even begun
to address the issue

of where we'll put
all that gold,

much less defend it.

I mean...

is this really something
we're capable of doing?

- Yes.
- Yes?

Yes, we are capable
of doing this and more.

We will have that prize,
Mr. Featherstone.

We've all come too far to let an
opportunity like this pass us by.

Would you not agree?

I humbly suggest

you continue
unloading the hold.

By the time anyone
expects to reload it,

you will be close enough to departure
to tell them the truth, yes?

Is it possible
for two men

days removed
from unending wealth

to be any less happy?

All right, I can see
that you are angry.

But are you angry
with Anne for leaving

or are you angry with me for
offering her the opportunity?

It would help me to understand
with which I am dealing.

For so many years,
I knew her.

Perhaps the only one
who truly knew her.

But for weeks, with everything
we've been through,

everything she's done...

she's a fucking
mystery to me.

So now I realize
two things are possible--

One, something
has changed within her,

something so significant that she's
turned into someone I barely recognize,

or, two...

it was a fantasy that
I ever knew her at all.

And the most disturbing
thing about it is,

because it's Anne...

I will likely
never know which it is.

Am I angry
that she's gone?

Maybe with everything that lies ahead
of us, perhaps it's for the best.

I'm here to see
the lady of the house.

She's occupied.

Tell her
it's news from home.

Use those words,
please.

Good morning, dear.

What do you have for me?

The quartermaster,
Featherstone,

met with Max and Rackham
behind closed doors again.

Entered in a huff,
left in a huff.

Could you make out
their words?

No, and I fear if I pressed any
closer, they'd have found me out.

Ma'am, you know I am
eternally in your debt

for how you treated me
when you oversaw the inn,

but please don't ask me to
delve into this any further.

It's all for a good cause,
rest assured.

You haven't even told me what
this is all in service of.

Who the information's
being purchased for.

When last we spoke, you
said you were still undecided

as to who would assume control
ostensibly of the operation.

I was just wondering
if you'd reached a decision.

Not yet.
Shortly.

- Is that all?
- Yes, ma'am.

No news from the fort?

The doors are still shut.
No word from inside.

Either they're plotting
some sort of reprisal

against us over the
disappearance of Miss Ashe or--

Or they're still
choosing a new captain.

Yes, ma'am.

Ma'am, the lady is here.

She's here right now?

Yes, ma'am.
Said it was urgent.

All right.

Were we scheduled
to see each other today?

No, ma'am.

But I have news I think you'll
want to hear without delay.

May I sit?

When you engaged me to monitor
the goings on across the way,

for a generous stipend,
I might add,

I must confess, I thought you'd
overestimated our young friend Max,

worrying that she was clever enough
to create any real trouble--

I'm sorry, is there a point
you are trying to make?

I was wrong.

There is something
afoot at the inn.

I believe
I know what it is.

And I believe you'll
want to know it, too.

Next item!

I know my role here is to
recount information to you.

But with what lies ahead,

I'm hoping you'll indulge me
in a personal account.

About five years ago,
I served on a merchant vessel

running slaves in and out
of Charles Town.

I remember the first time
I saw those walls,

those patrol ships,

and those fucking guns.

The first mate leans in

as he sees that look
on my face.

He says,
"That, son,

is a town resolved
never to be fucked with."

And as we're
unloading our cargo,

we watch a gathering
in the square-- a gallows.

And we watch
as they haul up a man

named Solomon Little.

And they announced
to the crowd that this man...

When Captain Flint first
arrived on this island,

he gained influence faster
than any man I'd seen before.

Or since.

I heard men say it was
because of the violence.

I heard them say
it was his charm.

But it was clear
to me the reason why

he was so good at bending
men towards his will

was he knew
the power of a story

and how to harness it
to his own ends.

That man there,
I would argue,

may very well
be his equal.

...as they put the rope
around his neck.

And I listened
to that excited talk...

You know it
isn't even his.

What do you mean?

The pirate story
is Bernard's.

I've heard him
tell it before.

This man was no more
than an animal...

Jeffries, I think.
Can't remember.

Can't trust a fucking
thing out of his mouth.

Yeah, the story's his,
the story isn't his.

But the power
of the telling...

that is clearly his.

At the moment, he's using
it to help the captain.

But God help us
if he ever realizes

what else he could
use it to accomplish.

And as he swung,

I watched the crowd
jeer at him.

I watched them laugh
and celebrate.

Women, children,
all of them.

I tell you, friends,

what lies ahead
isn't just the governor

nor his lieutenants
or his soldiers or their guns.

The people
of Charles Town

are eager
to see you and me dead.

If Captain Flint is
to come through this alive,

we will need to be focused
and at our best.

What the hell was that?

What?

When you two returned and the
three of us stood on that beach,

what did I say to you?

You said if we told Flint
the gold was gone,

you'd get another crew
to go back and get it

and we could have
a bigger share.

Well, there we go.

There's the problem.

It seems you only heard half
of what I said that night.

I also said
that if anyone,

anyone even remotely suspected
something was off about our story,

if they even detected
the faintest whiff of it,

we would all
be dead men.

That sounds familiar,
does it not?

All right.

- I understand.
- Do you?

The men on this ship
face grave danger ahead.

So when you sit behind them
grinning like a fucking child,

you can see how
that presents a problem.

How it might elicit
the very questions

we came on this fucking trip to
avoid in the fucking first place.

I said I understand.

No one's asking questions.

No one knows shit, so
leave me alone about it.

That man has the potential
to be a very real problem

for the two of us.

The other day, I received
word from one of Max's girls

that Charlotte
had left the island,

ran off with a man
in the middle of the night.

So in love, they say,
with a man from Flint's crew,

a man named Logan,

that they started a life
together in Providence.

What is that?

Charlotte's savings.

Charlotte didn't trust
the other girls,

didn't trust the turns.

So she entrusted it
to me to watch it for her.

She and this man
leave the island

on the eve of securing
an unprecedented prize

with no warning,
no witnesses, and no money.

I'm sorry,
I'm not following.

Why did you engage
my services, ma'am?

To monitor a brothel madam

intent on stealing
information

to use for her benefit.

A member of Flint's crew,

with knowledge of the
whereabouts of the Urca gold,

walks into her inn.

He promptly disappears under
suspicious circumstances,

and less than a day later,

news arrives that the Urca
gold is no longer to be won,

but is safely
on its way back to Spain.

You're asking
me to believe

that Max somehow
got the information

about the Urca
out of this man's head,

murdered him and then
one of her own girls,

and then somehow managed to convince
Captain Flint and the rest of his crew

that the Urca gold
had disappeared?

How the fuck
would she do that?

I don't know.

But this morning,
Captain Rackham's ship

emptied the entire contents
of its hold onto the island,

started loading up
with fresh water,

preparing to set sail.

Wherever he's going,

he anticipates bringing
something very large back.

I believe Max
learned about the prize.

I believe somehow
she managed

to convince the island
it had disappeared.

I believe that right now
she and her partners

are preparing
to retrieve it

and bring it back
to this place.

Were that to happen, the thieves
and their like would flourish here

and your plans for this place
would be doomed to failure.

I want the Nassau
you are trying to build.

But if that Nassau
is ever to be,

you have to stop her.

Captain?

Winds are more favorable
than we anticipated.

De Groot wants to tack earlier
through the wind than you suggested.

Might take some maneuvering. He'd
prefer not to do it in the dark,

but he thinks
the men are, um...

up to it.

So, as long as you're in agreement,
he'll make preparations.

Tell him
I'm in agreement.

The sooner we get her
home, the better.

His name is Billy,
in case you were wondering.

I beg your pardon.

He just...

seems so
out of place here.

Like someone I might have
known back home in London.

He may easily have been.

His parents were
Levelers in Kensington.

Spoke out against
impressment, kidnappings.

Printed pamphlets
from their home.

Insisted that Billy
was lettered

so that he could understand
the cause and contribute.

That winter, when the press
gangs came through town,

they found Billy distributing
those pamphlets in the street.

I suppose they found
it funny, snatching him

and leaving only the pamphlets
for his parents to find.

Did he ever
see them again,

his mother and father?

When we found Billy,
we freed him,

and when given the opportunity
to confront the man

that had taken him
from his family,

held him in bondage
for three years

without wages
or reprieve,

he slew that man.

After that, he said he couldn't
face his father again.

Didn't think he'd be able to
accept a murderer for a son.

Coming through
the wind again, gents.

This one's
gonna be tight.

Watch yourselves, eh?

Tyson, foremast,
Howard, mizzen,

Irving, main.

What lies ahead, I'm afraid I
might be wholly unprepared for.

I always thought this journey
would end in battle.

A fight to preserve
the things we held dear.

I understood that.
I was ready for that.

Now, as it turns out,

something else lies
at the end of this road.

Judgment.

Not of Nassau,
but of me

and the man
that I've become.

And this entire endeavor

hangs in the balance
of that judgment.

You can defend that man.

There are good arguments
in defense of him.

For some of his deeds,
perhaps for most of them.

But there are some things
that Captain Flint has done

that cannot be defended.

I will make my argument

having no sense
of my footing with him.

No sense of the things
he knows about me,

the lower things.
The darker things.

And the moment he reveals
that he knows these things

may be the moment that this
all comes crashing down.

He is going
to render judgment.

And it all depends on what he
sees standing before him--

Me or my name.

I just want you to know,

I appreciate the
opportunity you gave us.

It's all right.
I'm not stupid.

Neither is he, honestly.

He's torn up inside.

Betraying the other men,
it's making him act foolish.

Like you've seen.

That may very well be.

But he won't matter for much if
he gets the three of us killed.

I know.

I know.

Sometimes he's just
so fucking stubborn.

Always been like that, long
as we've sailed together.

It's a goddamn
shame, truly.

I wish it
were otherwise.

Well, if you can think of something to
say to him to get him to fall in line,

now would be a good time.

Say to him?

Ain't we past that now?

Past it?

What you asked me to do,

wasn't the point to solve
the problem for good?

What the hell
are you talking about?

Nicholas was scheduled
for duty on the mainmast.

It seemed the perfect chance to
make it look like an accident.

- Clear out!
- Who is it?

Who is it?

What about this?
Ahem.

Upon our return, we anchor the
ship off the southern coast.

A team of men excavate
a trench inland.

We leave the bulk of
the coin in the trench,

keep the location secret,

and rotate men in watches
to keep it under guard?

Your answer as where to secure
five million pieces of eight

is to dig a hole?

All right,
how about this?

It is astonishing
how much damage

a woman can do once you
let her in the door.

Is he talking about you?

He's talking
about Miss Bonny.

I'm talking about
Miss Guthrie.

We all know what happened
up at that fort.

He lets her in,
she walks off

with a prize
worth a fortune,

leaving him to swing
in the wind for it.

Right now Charles is either
fighting to preserve his captaincy

and looking for any good
argument to win them a fortune,

and quickly, or he's dead
and some new captain

is wrestling with
the same question.

What are you saying?

Where does one store
a fortune in gold coins?

In a goddamn fort.

What, you're just gonna walk
up there, knock on the door,

and ask whoever answers
if they'll let us use

your half-demolished fort
as a treasury?

Please go with him
so he doesn't get killed.

Oh, for fuck's sakes.

Ma'am.

It's been a day since Mrs. Mapleton
told us of the plot next door.

For the past day,
I have watched the crew

of the Colonial Dawn
loading supplies.

They are now nearly through and likely
less than a day away from setting sail.

I've wanted to give you the
time you needed to deliberate,

but now I'm concerned
you may not appreciate

how precarious
things will be here

should that gold
reach our shores.

Ma'am, pirates flush with Spanish
gold will be encouraged.

They will be empowered.

But what they will never be,
under any circumstances,

is partners in a plan
to reconcile with England.

From where I sit,
I think it is clear

that we must act
to prevent--

We?

I'm fairly certain that you aren't
suggesting that we do anything.

The only way
to truly ensure

that the Urca gold
doesn't return here

is to eliminate everyone
with the knowledge

of where it is
and how to retrieve it.

You are suggesting that I have
all of these people killed.

Captain Rackham,
his leadership,

any of his men who've
been made aware of it.

Max.

With all due
respect, ma'am,

it's not as if
you haven't done it before.

I have done what I have done
to arrive at this point.

I have done what I've done
and I will live with it.

But do not for a moment
believe that that defines me.

I will not be that person.

God rest his soul.

Why?

I thought you'd made it
clear what I was to do.

How the fuck could
you have thought that?

You said he could sink us.

Then you gave me a look.

Let me see
if I have this.

Flint gives an order, but to
get you men to follow it,

I need to come down here, put on a show,
and convince you it's in your interests.

But I give you a look

and you're willing to
murder a man over it?

I listen to Flint because you
tell me it's in my interests.

I listen to you because I know you
give a shit about my interests

and I ain't the only one
thinks that way.

...be turned into corruption,

looking for the
resurrection of the body

,

and the life
of the world to come

through our Lord
Jesus Christ.

Amen.

Amen.

We therefore commit
his body to the deep.

Nicholas Irving.

From across an ocean,

it is hard to know
what the New World is.

All I knew
were the stories I was told

of monsters and valiant men
sworn to slay them.

But now that I've nearly
traversed the ocean

that separates
New World from old,

I fear that the stories
I've heard

may have clouded the truth
more than clarified it.

It would seem
these monsters are men--

Sons, brothers,

fathers.

And it would
seem these men

fear their own monsters--

An empire...

a navy...

a king.

My father.

So much
I've left behind me--

London, my youth,

and comfortable stories.

So much lies ahead
in Charles Town--

A future
and harder truths.

I feel I must
face it honestly, bravely.

I must face it
as my father's daughter,

and I believe that
in order to do that,

I have to tell these people
that which I've kept from them.

I have to tell them
what I know.

I've told you my father
is a reasonable man,

and that is true
about most things.

At one point,
he was even reasonable

about the issue
of quelling piracy.

Until I received
a letter from him

years ago

in which he recounted to me
the story of a ship...

headed for Charles Town

attacked by pirates.

The ship which was attacked
was named the Maria Aleyne.

The ship was set upon
by Captain Flint and his men.

And in the midst
of the bloody assault,

there was one
particular victim,

a very important man

traveling under
an assumed name.

His name
was Alfred Hamilton.

Given the lengths
to which this man had gone

to protect himself,

the fact that he fell under
Captain Flint's sword...

suggested
he'd been hunted,

pursued, and then
executed in cold blood

and with great
malice aforethought.

The motive unclear,

but the intent apparently
dark and awful,

monstrous.

He said the act was completely
incompatible with civilized society.

That he would dedicate
his life to eradicating it.

And that there would be law
in the Americas...

the day Captain Flint
swung over Charles Town.

I appreciate
what you've done for me.

I respect what you hope
to accomplish,

so I ask you,

when you return me
to Charles Town,

turn around
and sail away.

Do you think those patrol
ships have clearance to fire?

Not while we're out
of range of that fort.

As long as we don't come any
further, they know we're no threat.

I don't want to see a single
one of our gun ports open.

I don't want to see a single man
on deck with a weapon in his hand.

This only works
if we can make it clear

that we have absolutely no intention
of shooting at anyone today.

What if they
start shooting at us?

Duck.

Prepare to drop anchor!

I've made arrangements.

You'll be safe here
until I return.

What are you talking about?
I'm going with you.

You heard what she said.
It's too dangerous.

If I'm standing next to you, he's far more
likely to see you as the man you were.

He's more likely
to see you as a woman

abetting a known pirate
and hang you alongside me.

- I see no reason for you to take that risk.
- Of course there is reason.

- None that I am willing to take.
- It was my fault.

I'm the one who learned Alfred
Hamilton was a passenger on that ship.

I knew the moment I told you
what it would drive you to do.

I knew the danger
it would put you in,

knew the horrors
it would incite.

I told myself to remain
silent and spare him,

spare you those horrors,

and yet I told you anyway.

If you're going to face
judgment behind those walls,

then so should I,

for if anyone is responsible
for what happened that day,

it's me.

Captain Vane!

Captain Vane!

Are you Captain Vane?

We received your letter
and your demands.

We are prepared to pay
the sum you requested

for Abigail Ashe.

I am not Charles Vane.

I have no demands.

But I do have a request.

Captain James Flint.

You're Captain Flint?

I am.

And you wish an audience
with Lord Ashe?

I do.

This was a different place
before the governor arrived.

Raiders routinely
hit our shipping.

All up and down
the coast

as far north
as Mt. Pleasant,

as far south as
the Cumberland Sound.

It took him a short while to
learn how to deal with it.

But once he committed to fighting
the problem, things changed.

You see, he made these
people unafraid.

Everyone realized, like just about
anything else in this life...

the moment
you stop fearing it,

it loses all its power.

No!

The governor is a friend!

The governor gave
very specific instructions.

- No, don't!
- If we were able to get our hands on Captain Vane,

he never leaves
this place again.

Stop.

I don't see any reason those
instructions don't apply to you, too.

- If anything--
- Stop!

They're telling the truth.

He's an old friend
of my father's.

I remember him.
I know him.

And if you strike him again,
my father will know

you did so after I made
this clear to you.

Welcome to Charles Town.

Charles Vane corralled 40 of the
hardest men in the New World,

brought them in line, brought
them across an ocean to this fort

and conquered it

with no support
from the water,

no siege engineering,
just the will to take it,

and throughout
all that time,

through danger
and peril and blood,

the greatest
threat he faced,

the one enemy who may ultimately
have been his undoing,

was, you know, someone
I once heard him

refer to as Lady Honeypot.

Beware the women, Mr. Featherstone.
They bite.

I'm in love
with a good woman, sir.

I'm not concerned.

Idelle?

Yes.

It stands to reason
that if those 40 men

were mean enough to take this
fort under Vane's leadership,

were they
to ever turn on him,

it would be
an ugly sight.

May I suggest that whatever is going
on in the bowels of this fort,

perhaps it's best
left alone for now.

Perhaps.

- What are you doing?
- I'm wondering why it's so quiet in there.

Because they're occupied
plotting some sort of awfulness.

That is one possibility. The other
is that they're no longer in there.

What are you talking about?
Their ship is still in the bay.

It is, but I'm less intrigued
by what's in the bay

than what's up there.

This was found
pinned onto him.

I was once a slave.

I know too well the pain of
the yoke on my shoulders

and of the freedom
of having cast it off.

So I'm resolved,
I will be no slave again.

And as I am free, I hereby
claim the same for Nassau.

She is free today,

and so long as I draw breath,
she shall remain free.

Richard Guthrie
was engaged in an effort

to see her return
to the rule of a king,

to see the yoke returned.

He betrayed Nassau,
and thus,

as always,
to traitors.

As far as you and I,
I was warned about you,

warned you would
betray me.

I'd hoped
you and I shared a love

to make such a thing
unthinkable.

I'd hoped those warnings
were wrong.

But I know you too well,

so I prepared
in case they were right.

You removed the girl
from my possession,

but in turn,
the man-of-war

moved on from the bay,

moved on from a position
of heightened security.

Moved on to a place
where its attention,

Captain Flint's attention,

will be so very occupied

on the danger
that is Charles Town

and in the state
of apprehension

in which the last thing
any of them will be watching

is the water.

I made clear
the price for the girl.

You should have known me
well enough to know,

one way or another,
I was going to claim it.

And once I do,
I'll be returning to Nassau

to settle the rest
of my accounts.