Whispers
"After months of searching, we finally have it! I never thought we would see the day." Jack exclaimed happily as he spread the map over his desk.
"Aye, Cap'n. Fortune favors us once again." Gibbs said returning equal amounts of exuberance. "We can finally re-provision the ship and leave this godforsaken island."
"Mister Gibbs, I'm shocked at your flippant attitude toward Tortuga. She has treated you quite well over the years, wouldn't you say?" Jack looked amused as Gibbs shuffled back and forth on his feet.
"I'm just weary of staying put in one place for too long, is all. There's been whispers of a growing naval presence in the Caribbean."
"Isn't there always?" Jack continued poring over the map, paying no mind to Gibbs' paranoia.
"Aye, but Port Royal has a new Commodore. They say he's hellbent on restoring peace to the seas."
"Hah. I'd like to see him try." Jack looked up from his map. "Leave the worrying to me. You make sure there is plenty of rum aboard. We'll meet later at The Bryde."
"Aye, Cap'n." Gibbs nodded before leaving the cabin.
Jack sat at his usual table in the back corner of the Faithful Bryde, a bottle of rum half emptied sat on the table. He'd dismissed advances from several of the tavern's regular entertainment. This night he only wished to observe and listen and enjoy a drink before they disembarked the next day. They were headed to El Dorado, the famed City of Gold. Jack had searched for months on end, spent quite a bit of coin, and made entirely too many promises he had no intention of keeping in order to retrieve the map hidden in his coat. But if said map was really to lead them to such a treasure, it didn't really matter what promises were made or to whom they were made.
The tavern was lively. Many ships had come in on the tide bringing various tales from all reaches of the globe. A few gentleman from Spain gushed on about how they took down a french naval ship stocked full of silks and lace. Another group of men had come from Madagascar and were dealing in exotic animals they'd hoped to sell in London. Jack had to sit back and smile. One couldn't find a more diverse collection of scallawags and adventurers than those who have passed through Tortuga's ports. Gibbs' paranoia would have to be put to rest for the evening.
Speak of the devil, Jack thought as Gibbs waltzed through the door.
"All set, Cap'n." Gibbs said sitting across from Jack
"Good man." Jack said, pulling a full bottle of rum from under the table and handing it to his first mate. "Anything of note worth noting?"
"Nay, all's clear. Weather is favorable and there hasn't been a single sighting of His Majesty's Navy."
"Aye, there wouldn't be would there?" A drunken sailor slurred and flopped onto their table.
"What do you mean?" Gibbs asked as he got to his feet, attempting to hold the man up.
"They've no reason to come after us lowly lot. Haven't you heard? They've captured their most coveted prize." He paused and looked to the other men to react to his tale. Jack looked to Gibbs who merely shrugged in response. The drunken sailor rolled his eyes. "They've bagged the sea beast...the manticore...the siren... the harpy herself." The man swayed from side to side, sloshing rum all over the table.
"Speak plainly, mate." Jack interrupted, fearing what the stranger was about to say next.
"The King...er...Queen." He exclaimed loudly before crouching low to Jack's ear and whispering, "of pirates."
Jack grabbed the man's shirt and nearly lifted him off of his feet. His cheeks were red with fury as he screamed at the poor drunkard. "Where?! Where did you hear this?!"
"It's been all over town. Any idiot with ears would know." The man slurred.
"Not every idiot" Jack said through gritted teeth as looked toward his first mate who recoiled at the implication. "Have you heard where they are keeping her?"
"Port Royal, then. The new Commodore wants to make an example of her. A nice public hanging to send a message to the Brethren." The man laughed. "Poor bird. No chance escaping that."
Jack threw the man to the ground as the drunkard continued to laugh. Gibbs looked on at Jack whose face had gone stark white and stared straight ahead, eyebrows scrunched together and nostrils flared.
"I take it we'll not be heading to El Dorado, then?" Gibbs asked tentatively. Jack shot him a look that could have taken the skin off of a cat. Gibbs rolled his eyes and sighed. "Port Royal then." Gibbs stated, turning on his heel.
The drunken man on the floor continued to laugh. Jack grabbed the half empty bottle of rum, drained it in its entirety, and smashed the empty glass over the man's head, knocking him unconscious. He rose from his seat at the back of the tavern and headed to the Pearl with new determination.