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Emerged From Darkness
Emerged From Darkness
Emerged From Darkness
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Emerged From Darkness

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An action packed adventure with dashing men and strong women. Emerged From darkness takes place on the eve of 1775. Colonial America is set for rebellion. It will be a desperate war for freedom. But another war is about to be fought; a war in the shadows of a greater struggle.

The Freemasons and their rivals the Illuminati are about enter into a supreme struggle for control of the new republic. But all wars must be fought with weapons. And the greatest weapon is knowledge. It is a hidden knowledge that American Freemasons directed by Benjamin Franklin mean to obtain at all cost. And they have just the man at hand, Captain John Paul Jones.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherBen Coleman
Release dateOct 11, 2016
ISBN9781370416301
Emerged From Darkness
Author

Ben Coleman

Ben is co-founder and managing director at fffunction, a design agency in the South West of the UK. He trained as a product designer in the late 1990's and moved into the field of digital design shortly after. In doing so he brought user centred design principles to this relatively new field and has been applying them to digital projects ever since. At fffunction he wears many hats, but can be mostly be found solving design problems, running workshops, organising content into information architectures, sketching interfaces, building prototypes, and testing them with users.

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    Book preview

    Emerged From Darkness - Ben Coleman

    Emerged From Darkness

    By Ben Coleman

    Copyright © 2015 by Ben Coleman

    All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means including photocopying, recording, or information storage and retrieval without permission in writing from the author.

    Please visit my website

    http://www.bencolemanauthor.com

    mailto:Ben@bencolemanauthor.com

    Printed in U.S.A

    Emerged From Darkness

    By Ben Coleman

    Emerged From Darkness is ebook is published by Ben Coleman at Smashwords

    Smashwords Edition

    This book is a work of fiction. With the exception of recognized historical figures, the characters in this novel are fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

    All Rights Reserved

    Copyright 2015 Ben Coleman

    1st Edition

    In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use this author’s material work other than for reviews, prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

    This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

    ISBN: 9781370416301

    Reviews

    GREAT idea for the story line! Maybe something that could have actually taken place in history that was never talked about . . . because of secrets don't you know. Also, for those that like conspiracy’s . . . there is enough in here to keep your attention. ~ Stephen Andersen

    Ben Coleman's attention to detail really makes this story pop. The characters come alive on the pages, the scenery vivid. As much as I know about the Freemasons and the Illuminati, this story had a rather unique perspective on a classic American tale that proved intensely interesting. The scenes with The Duke are, by far, the most amusing to me. ~Sascha Illyvich,

    This novel is an excellent read. The author merges a fictional story line with known historical characters and places. Thought provoking and entertaining you will find this book hard to put down. ~ Don E

    Dedication

    First I’d like to dedicate this book to Francine without her hard work, encouragement, guidance and belief in me I would never be following my dream.

    Secondly I’d like to dedicate this to the United States Navy and all her ships. Semper Fortis. It was an honor to serve.

    Acknowledgements

    I would like to thank the Freemason's who's contributions in making this country great shall never be fully known nor understood. I'd like to say thank you, for aiding me in becoming Emerged From Darkness and guiding me Into The Light

    Special thanks also to Christopher Irvine for his advice on the theoretical handling of a Trimaran Frigate and how she'd stand up in a fight. I remember our conversation on Facebook! I look forward to many more!

    Table of Contents

    Dedication

    Acknowledgements

    Prologue

    Spring 1775

    Humphrey’s & Wharton Shipyard

    Delaware Bay

    Porto Funchal, Madeira

    Fortress Funchal, The Dungeons

    On the Bonhomme Richard

    Fortress Funchal, The Dungeons

    On The Bonhomme Richard

    Fortess Funchal, The Dungeons

    Fortress Funchal, The Courtyard

    The Atlantic Sea, Off the coast of Madeira

    About the Author

    - Prologue -

    My Dear Jackworth,

    As you are no doubt aware as last we spoke in Philadelphia, there was much that lay uncertain concerning the affairs of these, our, American Colonies and her future with England.

    And as Brothers of Freemasonry, it has always been our intent to come together in good faith and fraternity, and by the blessings, of a just and divine Providence, to guide these Colonies with the wisdom of virtue and good governance.

    In the simplest terms, it was always our desired end to provide a benevolent light before our countrymen by which they might follow into prosperity and brotherly love.

    But now it seems we must protect, as well as provide for the liberties of free men, for it is an unfortunate truth that war is now upon us, and many men will die.

    The dark hand of tyranny has made its opening move,

    But all hope is not lost, for I have discovered a thing that may yet preserve us.

    I have discovered the Great Secret! That which we have discussed long into the night hours has at last been found, and if it can be reached, mankind may once again be emerged from darkness, as once we were in that classical age.

    The age of enlightenment shall find yet more light if this, our endeavor be successful.

    We must soon depart, for a great conflict, as well as a great opportunity awaits. And a great ship needs to be commanded, by a great captain.

    To this end, we must prepare.

    A merchant ship of London registry out of Tobago is to be expected in Fredericksburg.

    Go there and find the Betsy, find her Captain, who should with all speed be brought into our fold. He is a man of impeccable quality in the skills of seafaring, as I have been informed, and is of undaunted courage and fighting ability.

    Trouble should be expected upon his arrival, as I am given to understand he is quite dashing, handsome, and slightly deficient in character. The Lady Elizabeth will be an asset in securing his interest. I will be waiting at the Market street address. Report to me as quickly as possible. His name is John Paul Jones.

    In Fraternity and Charity,

    Benjamin Franklin,

    Philadelphia, 1775

    Spring, 1775 Fredericksburg, Virginia

    Philadelphia J. Jackworth stepped into the tavern, The Barnacle, it was, and adjusted the Franklin Monocled Unifocal strapped to his right eye.

    It was a marvelous piece of engineering, elegant in its simplicity, if a bit odd to look at.

    It was like the collapsed nub of a spyglass, with several lenses of differing properties. Each could rotate in and out of a hidden recess, and be thence set before the eye, allowing one to see with a magnified clarity.

    He waited a moment to let his sight adjust, and squinched, to accommodate.

    Normally he would have offered the door to the lady first but he strongly suspected the good people of The Barnacle, might not be terribly discriminating in the character of their clientele, and so he thought it prudent, just this once, to go first.

    If even, she were the more martial of the two, decency still forbade it.

    A smoky, fire lit den of raucous noise, dubious characters, and dancing maidens met them as they took in their surroundings.

    The scents of cooked, hot food, mingled with home grown tobacco, close bodies and cheap beer wrapped them in its cloying blanket while blue smoke from a dozen pipes filled the air.

    A half dozen half interested denizens looked to see that character was checked at the door and then returned to their conversations, satisfied.

    It was the sort of seedy heaven sailors called a home, when they were not at home, on their ships, on faraway seas, delivering a merchant’s goods, or fighting upon the waters in a splintered, fiery fight of sword and cannon, and plunder and death.

    They were naught but a moment in the doorway when Philadelphia spied him.

    I believe I have found our man. He said, nodding in Jones’ direction.

    Elizabeth’s eyes followed, and then across, directly from him, at another who seemed to have found the quarry at the same time. Without the need for word she stepped out of the doorway and made for the opposite end of the bar where it seemed trouble might be brewing, and within an instant her demeanor changed, to blend in with the crowd.

    Philadelphia J. Jackworth went to introduce himself.

    John Paul Jones, I presume sir? Captain of the Betsy?

    Jones was young, twenty something, with light brown hair and hazel eyes. His handsome face wore the lines of experience at the corners of his eyes like a hardness that hid a softness of vulnerability within.

    But by all accounts it was said those same soft eyes would become suddenly ablaze with a brilliant love of war, and tenacity of bravery at the first roar of cannon.

    His nostrils would flare and his body would glow with the strength of command, as if a sea warrior born of Neptune and bred for a fight.

    It was said at 12 he had been a midshipman aboard a merchant ship whose Captain had perished in a battle with pirates and all hope thought lost.

    But Jones had seized command, rallied the crew, and won the battle. Then fought the ship through storm and trial back to port.

    Of course it was also said that every ounce of bravery was equaled by two of mismanagement.

    He wasn’t the best with money, and a certain acumen seemed always lacking.

    So there lent an unfortunate affair between Captain and his business. Battle always left him the greater prize. But selling the ship for the money it was worth was a different story.

    Prize ship agents loved Jones.

    Creditors did not.

    And crews were a jilted lover, still in love, but all out of trust.

    Jones pretended he wasn’t there.

    After a polite moment Philadelphia softly cleared his throat and spoke again.

    Ahem, Captain Jones I presume?

    Jones didn’t move, but his eyes followed to the man’s hand adjusting his monocle, as if assuring himself of no immediate threat, but still reluctant to make eye contact.

    Finally with an exhale and slight exasperation from being taken away from his beer he looked up.

    Who’s asking? Jones said, allowing a sternness to creep into his tone, and glance.

    The hand wrapped around the beer began to lift it to his lips, but the other gingerly crept beneath the table out of eyesight.

    It was subtle, but Philadelphia did not miss it.

    But before he could speak again the young Captain stopped him.

    Look, I told you guys already, we just got into port, and as soon as I get paid, you get paid. After…

    I’m not here for that sir. I represent…

    Jones couched an eye curiously, quickly considering a second guess. Then straightened.

    Are you here over the Tobago thing with Thomas?

    He pronounced it Toe-Moss, in the Spanish way. And his facial expression went defensive, but unmoved.

    I already signed the document, legal and everything, before I left, promising to return to face that Inquiry. I got nothing to hide. He fired first, I just acted in self-defense and can’t nobody prove otherwise. And I got the papers on board.

    Jones set down his beer and gestured with his thumb toward the wharf, through the walls of the tavern. It was not lost on him that Jones could have more easily done so with his free hand, beneath the table, but had not.

    Those papers were signed by the harbormaster, saying I could leave. I got a family estate here, brother in law died, and I’m just sorting out affairs and as soon as I do…

    It went without saying any half addled port authority agent would know the only thing those papers documented was good bribery and bad conduct on both ends. But that still wasn’t Philadelphia’s business.

    Philadelphia didn’t say anything. He merely smiled and shook his head no.

    Jones stared a moment then glanced around as if the answer might be hiding somewhere about. Then he glanced back again.

    Philadelphia hadn’t taken a seat since he hadn’t been invited, and in any case hadn’t intended to stay. But a quick glance across the room at the group of men clearly happy with Elizabeth’s presence but casting unhappy glances at Jones told him Elizabeth’s spell didn’t extend past letting Jones out of their sight, and that time might be short.

    Jones’s own eyes had surreptitiously followed along and he licked his lips again, and he brought his beer up to water them. He was obviously well aware of the storm clouds brewing there, and ready for them, even if not exactly eager to face the weather.

    A secondary alternative was welcome and Philadelphia was glad to provide it.

    I’m not here for your money, but I am here to offer you some.

    That did the trick.

    For a moment the stern sea Captains facade dropped and a much more boyish Jones appeared, quite confused.

    But might I suggest we carry on the rest of the conversation elsewhere. I have a carriage just outside, and time is rather of the essence you see.

    The stormy glances were coming more frequently, and something akin to a confused agitation was in the air. The Jack Tars were anxious to get to Jones now that they’d recognized him, and just as anxious to stay exactly where they were with the lovely lady who’d graced them.

    She was a stunning raven-haired beauty of late twenties, or early thirties, delightfully buxom but suggestively firm in body beneath her dress and tall boots.

    She’d brazenly stolen someone’s tricorn hat from atop his head and drank heartily from another’s beer which had in its beginning instantly subdued them.

    To a man’s mind a woman that took an article of his as her own, suggested by unwritten rule that he might take her as his own by nights end.

    Even if he was the one left beaming like an idiot, pouring out his purse, and as obedient as a puppy dog.

    But the charms were losing some potency as they sensed Jones could be about to stir.

    And he was.

    But not without pressing his luck.

    Transport or security? He asked and glanced at the Tars.

    Security. Philadelphia answered, glancing too.

    The Betsy doesn’t have much armament.

    You won’t need it.

    It? You mean ship? Or guns? He asked, curiosity piquing.

    Either.

    Elizabeth was glancing at them now, along with the Tars, and a surly demeanor of her own.

    You’re giving me a ship?

    Yes.

    Jones was happy.

    I pick my own crew?

    No. Jones wasn’t happy anymore.

    Pay by rank plus prize keeping?

    Yes. Jones was happy again.

    Retainer up front. Non negotiable. He said with finality.

    Jones wasn’t paying attention to the Tars anymore, but they were beginning to move, and so was Elizabeth. Something akin to a tiny hell was about to break loose.

    Time was up.

    Done. Philadelphia conceded.

    Jones stood up with a happy grin and last swallow of his beer, holding a pistol he’d been hiding under the table.

    The Tars saw it.

    One Tar drew a pistol, and another a hatchet, but before either could move the slender hand of Elizabeth flashed out, and everyone began to move.

    Jones couldn’t get a clear view of the action but this he did know, who ever this beauty was she could handle herself.

    The Tar leveled his pistol to fire but the fiery female knocked the blast awry with a smashing blow to his wrist. He cried out in pain and the weapon fell to the bar with a clatter. He vainly tried to cradle his stunned and wounded wrist even as she snatched a handful of his hair and smashed his head to bar. With barely a sound he dropped to the floor in a crumpled heap.

    And already Elizabeth was moving again.

    Hatchet man took a high heeled boot to the stomach and went careening back into his fellows, sending them all to the ground in a flailing heap of arms, legs and curses. One man sputtered and attempted to rise but a swift punch from the lady sent him flailing back again. The young lady had certainly given the best of it. But it was equally certain that advantage wouldn’t last long.

    Best be going now, Captain. Those gents won’t stay down long.

    Jones was inclined to agree, and moved with his conductor, plainly bedazzled by the woman who had become the object of his attention. And the fact that she seemed to be a part of their party left him firing a broadsided smile, heedless of the danger following in her wake.

    Elizabeth was right behind Philadelphia and Jones as they ran through the door out

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