Black Sails

I opened the gates for you. Handed you this victory.

Your men need to know my wife is not to be harmed.

Even if that order could be given,

no one would heed it.

They've been let loose.

If you had suffered such loss...

... is there anything you can imagine making it right?

No, but I imagine getting my hands on the man responsible for it

would be a start.

If we fight them together, there's a good chance we live.

Separate, and we all die.

When Flint heads south,

we head north.

- What's north? - Eleanor Guthrie's grandfather.

They heard that Nassau had fallen, and so they came to join us.

The revolution you promised has begun.

- Where's Madi? - I need you to know...

that I did everything I could to keep her safe.

It wasn't your fault.

I wasn't able to say good-bye to her...

so I don't know what she would've wanted me to say to you right now...

if anything at all.

She and I...

we'd become close.

So, I think I have some sense of what it might've been.

She was curious.

And strong.

Not made to be hidden away from the world.

She was able to see it...

before she died.

And she was fighting for something she believed in...

when she died.

You knew her well.

I loved her.

And I believe she loved me.

I think she would've wanted you to know that, too.

And you say welcome them in, but...

I mean, they've never been free.

No one's at each other's throats yet here?

Whatever their differences,

everyone is here to be part of...

ending colonial rule in the New World.

As long as that's a possibility,

no one wants to be the one to spoil the chance.

What's this?

Discussing an attack on St. Ann's Bay as a first strike.

They've both been through there in recent months.

Trying to agree on what kind of resistance we'd likely face.

How is she?

She's breathing.

How are you?

In St. Ann's Bay, we can agree that there are

two 10-pound guns on the beach.

And men-at-arms number at least 80.

No more than 100.

100?

I figured twice that.

If we could set enough men up the coast...

say three times that, give or take...

we could seize the town within a day.

If you take St. Ann's, you'll starve Bridgetown.

She wouldn't last a month.

And Barbados has just fallen.

With Bridgetown as a staging ground,

how many men could you muster to move to the mainland?

700, maybe eight.

If we could recruit one slave in three in Barbados,

that's 1,200 men we could land anywhere we chose,

with ships to support their landing.

That's roughly what Morgan had in Panama.

It might just be enough for us to sack Boston.

Boston?

Fools.

You're all fools if you think this road leads

to where he says it does.

I have not proven to you my commitment to our common cause?

What happens when our enemy realizes

that all it needs to do to defeat us

is to take away that common cause?

Turn one against the other.

And when that happens...

as it is all but certain to do...

which of us standing here

are likely to be the ones who benefit

and which the ones sold back into their chains?

Then what the fuck are you doing here?

I saved your men's lives and yours

from the fight you started but could not finish.

And now you would start another...

that no man can hope to finish?

Then leave.

But what's happening here is going to happen.

This war is going to begin.

This camp is going to fight it,

with or without you.

They may call you a king,

but only in the kingdom that is no more.

We're all free men here.

And I wish to stay that way.

As do we all.

Will you join me?

Shh, shh, shh.

We have left the bay for the Delaware.

We will be arriving soon.

I'll be there in a moment.

She ain't been back down here...

since we set sail.

You told her to fuck off.

She listened.

She told me she ain't got no apology...

for what she'd done.

I know.

Part of me wanted to lash out.

Betrayed you.

Betrayed me.

Refuses to make it right.

Mm-hm. And the other part?

The other part...

knew how easy it would've been for her to lie.

Say she was sorry when she ain't.

I don't know what the fuck to think.

You told her not to come back down here, didn't you?

You'll have plenty of time to murder her another day.

Right now,

you need to rest.

You asked to see me, my Lord?

I cannot imagine what sort of horror this is for you.

Please know,

to whatever extent there could be any doubt,

that the choices she made in recent days

were made out of concern for you

and out of love...

I spoke with Governor Raja...

just before he set sail.

I wanted to be certain

that our account with him was squared,

that we ought to expect no return by his fleet,

considering there were promises made to him

that remain unfulfilled...

to deliver the still missing cache and Jack Rackham.

Governor Raja assured me he had already written off the missing cache,

the war effort being of paramount importance.

But Captain Rackham...

he said he had never asked for Captain Rackham.

You added that part.

A convenient lie to placate Havana...

and improve your own prospects for survival, didn't you?

Didn't you?

Yes.

Eleanor turned her guns on me.

Eleanor betrayed me.

Surrendered Nassau out from under me.

None of that sounded like anything that would ever occur to her to do.

Not her. Not after everything we'd been through.

But if it had occurred first to someone else...

- No, sir. - Someone standing so close to her,

who could and would manipulate her

to secure their own survival.

My Lord, I did no such thing.

Not now!

Why would I believe you?

Was there not an agreement between you

that you would be released from your obligations

and returned to your family...

May I speak, please?!

Jesus, what is it?!

Beg your pardon,

but you'd asked to be notified

when we were finished dressing the body.

Thank you, Mr. Rawls.

What?

In dressing the body, my Lord...

I don't know how to say it.

- Leave. - Beg pardon, ma'am?

- Leave now, please. - I'd be careful if I were you.

- Mr. Rawls, get out of this room. - Mrs. Hudson!

You don't want to hear what he's about to tell you.

Not like this.

You don't want to hear about it this way.

Hear what?

I can't quite read this.

Trade. The trade tax set by the general post.

The Society of Friends? I don't have any friends.

- That's the rules. - Set by him, is it?

The nine shillings is set in stone.

Entry fee: two shillings.

Pilot's fee: two shillings.

Pilot's fee departure, paid in advance: three shillings.

It costs more to leave than...

Trading fee. Not trading anything.

No matter. Non-negotiable. Sixpence.

And I swear to God, I'm not making this up,

Voluntary contribution to the Society of Friends:

two shillings.

Non-negotiable.

This is... this is truly marvelous.

- And we're the thieves. - Not very good ones, apparently.

Did he know where to find Mr. Guthrie?

He did, though he didn't seem terribly optimistic

about our chances of gaining an audience.