Prologue
"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.
"Shame Miss Elizabeth isn't here to share in our glory," he added innocently, staring over Jack's shoulder.
Jack immediately shot Gibbs an icy glare and the Pearl's first mate recoiled a bit at his captain's response. "She spent a fair amount of time searching for it with us, is all I'm saying," he amended in an attempt to cover his misstep.
"And then she decided to go sailing off on her own, so I can't imagine she'd give a fig that we've found it now," Jack snapped back, turning his attention back toward the map.
"Well, at least we can finally re-provision the ship and leave this godforsaken island. I've been hearing 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 the Royal Navy has a new Commodore. Rumor has it his contempt for piracy knows no limits. He wishes to bring peace to the seas once and for all."
"Hah. Bringing war to the doorsteps of the King's enemies is more likely." Jack looked up from his map. "Leave the worrying to me, mate. You just 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 nearly three years, 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 settling down 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." Gibbs proclaimed with confidence.
"Aye, there wouldn't be would there?" A drunken sailor slurred as he flopped into a chair beside Jack.
"And what is the meaning of such a statement?" Jack asked the drunkard, swiping the man's mug away in order to coax out an answer.
"They've no reason to come after us lowly lot. Or 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 in his seat.
"Speak plainly, mate." Jack interrupted, gripping the man by his shoulder to keep him steady as he waited with bated breath for the answer.
"The King…er...Queen," he exclaimed loudly before crouching low to Jack's ear and whispering, "of pirates."
Jack grabbed the man by his lapels and pulled him toward him with a strange intensity he didn't know he possessed. His cheeks were red with fury as he held the poor drunkard's shirt in his fist. "Where did you hear this?" Jack demanded with a low growl.
"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 flinched at the implication. "Do you know where they are keeping her?" he asked of the drunken sailor.
"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 as he stared straight ahead, eyebrows furrowed and nostrils flared.
"Orders, Cap'n," Gibbs asked tentatively.
Taking a centering breath he grumbled, "Stick to the plan" before taking another swig from his bottle of rum.
"You don't mean to leave her there?" Gibbs asked in utter shock.
Jack remained at the table, unmoving.
"Jack!"
"Do I look like Turner to you? Bounding off head first into the fire every time that bloody woman needs rescuing?"
Gibbs stared down his nose at Jack with no shortage of disapproval.
"Don't look at me like that." Jack turned his head away, attempting to avoid the man's gaze.
Gibbs continued staring. Jack glanced back at his first mate out of the corner of his eye.
"Oh, alright! Set a course for Port Royal. We leave immediately," Jack resigned and knocked back the remainder of his rum, slamming the tankard on the table.
Gibbs rose from the table and hurried out of the tavern. Jack dropped his forehead into his hands and cursed his terrible luck. Rescue the Pirate King from the bowels of Fort Charles. What could possibly go wrong?