Seven years ago today I posted the first seventeen chapters of Harry & the Pirate I. To commemorate that day, and to finish up Jack and Harry's story, here is Harry & the Pirate VI: Blood and Treasure, which I'll be posting one chapter a day for the next twenty days. Many thanks to Hereswith for beta reading, editing, and encouragement.

Chapter One: Farewell to Singaraja

Tom Sparrow negotiated the wide streets of Singaraja with a seemingly carefree step, affably returning the nods and smiles and occasional bows of the townsfolk, a gentle and beautiful people. Tom would miss them, for they'd grown to be his friends. They'd also grown accustomed to the fierce splendor of the Black Pearl, anchored fore and aft in their jewel of a harbor these many weeks, and to her pirate crew, as well.

Pirates, but not like the vicious dogs the Pearls had run across a number of times in voyaging about the East Indies. Officially, this wasn't a piratical venture at all, but his parents' Voyage of Trade and Exploration, planned during the early years of Tom's life, years in which his father, Captain Jack Sparrow, had sailed under an English Letter of Marque. It had been mere chance that opportunities of a more illicit nature had occasionally come their way. But Jack Sparrow was a pirate and a good man, and the presence of Tom's elegant little mother, Lady Harry, and his sister, Daisy – now a lively ten-year-old – had lent a civilizing influence, so the Black Pearl and her people had acted as a benevolent force, whenever that had been possible, while making a mint of money into the bargain.

The Sparrows would return to western waters rich enough to buy an abbey, as the saying went. But even more valuable to Tom was the knowledge he'd gained in these last five years abroad. He had experienced a great deal in those years, from the steady, day to day running of the ship as she made her way around the globe, to wonders so singular that he'd never have believed them true if he'd not seen them with his own eyes. The fantastically varied lands and people, the adventures both happy and hair-raising: they'd just have been stories, like those in some dusty old book, if he hadn't come along on his parents' adventure.

He'd been fourteen years old when his father had recalled him from his apprenticeship under Michael Owens, who'd been made captain of the Zephyr, a neat little sixteen-gun brig the Pearl had captured from the Spanish about a year after Daisy had been born. Tom and his father had been having an uncomfortable time of it—growing pains, Gibbs had said—so Tom had been exiled from the Pearl for a couple of years, to study seamanship under another master, albeit one who'd always been Tom's friend. Michael hadn't played favorites, yet Tom had done well under his command, even as he'd come to a better understanding of what he'd had and lost on the Pearl.

He and his father had met infrequently during those years, but they'd gotten on better, and Tom never doubted that he'd be back on the Pearl eventually. And sure enough, when Daisy turned five, and the conflict with the Spanish was at a low ebb, his parents had at last announced they would leave St. Claire, appointing Captain Owens and his wife Suzanna nominal guardians of the island – the Owens's were the parents of three by that time, twin girls and a boy, all under four years of age, and neither had any wish to leave the Caribbean just then – though Rachel, as always, was the true steward of Mother's property. The Black Pearl would set sail on a voyage around the world, and Tom Sparrow would sail with her.

Even at fourteen, Tom had had enough wisdom to appreciate the opportunity he was being given. He'd done his best to absorb the lessons gleaned from observation and experience, and had been fairly attentive to the more formal schooling his father and mother had insisted upon. Now, at nineteen, Tom knew himself to be well versed in most aspects of sailing, including the complicated mathematics required in modern navigation; was skilled enough (and ruthless enough) to be of use in an action, with weaponry that ranged from pistol to blade to sheer cunning and, on occasion, swift flight; was capable of emulating the ways of a gentleman (and, conversely, the ways of a blackguard, at need); and, he hoped, had the empathy and courage it took to be a good man, just like his father.

And now he would be put to the test. He'd left the Caribbean a boy, but he would return a man.

But first he had to fetch his mother and sister.

He turned down the palm-shaded pathway that led to the splendid gold and stone residence of the ruler of this island nation. Tom's mother and sister had run across a group of the king's consorts and princesses on their second day in Singaraja, when they'd all been browsing the local market, and the ladies had taken an instant liking to each other, which ultimately had greased the wheels of the Pearls' trade negotiations.

Mother had often been invited to visit the palace, to bathe in the privacy of the ladies' garden, or to take tea with them, and Daisy had been allowed regular access to play and study with her special friend, the Crown Princess Surya, and Surya's plentiful royal siblings (there were about three dozen children of varying ages, from what Tom could make out – the king had an astonishing number of wives and concubines and took his marital obligations very seriously – Tom's father said it made him tired just thinking about it). Daisy had learned a little of everything in the last couple of months: local history and a smattering of the language; some cooking and the care of babies; music, and an unusual and graceful form of dance. Today it was dancing: the princesses and their friends were practicing a piece for the spring festival, to be held the day after tomorrow, and Daisy was all agog to have been invited to be counted among the performers.

Tom's mother had gone to the palace with her daughter that morning, to watch the little girls rehearse and to visit with the other fond matrons. It was nearly noon now, and Tom hoped they were almost finished. The news that his father had received – a letter from English lawyers that had taken months to find its way from ship to ship and port to port – was too significant to them all to wait.

The guards nodded to Tom as he passed through the open archway, and he met his friend, Wayan, oldest of the princes, almost immediately.

"Sparrow, my friend, do you come for your ladies? The little ones are still practicing in the Great Hall."

"My father sent me," Tom replied. "Exciting times, Wayan. There's been a letter delivered, from England."

Wayan's face fell. "You will leave us soon, then?"

"I believe so. We'd have to be on our way in any case, but it may be that we'll be heading west, to England, and then home to the Caribbean."

"How I wish I could go with you and see these strange places of which you speak," Wayan said with a sigh, as he led the way along the path that crossed the wide, gorgeously planted inner courtyard. "But alas! I must stay and tend to my duties, and become a great king –may the day be long delayed, for I honor my father."

"It's a hard fate, Wayan. I don't envy you – except for the palace, of course, and the flock of beauties you'll have at your beck and call."

Wayan grinned. "These things do ease the weight of my burden somewhat. But listen, do you hear? There is still music coming from the Great Hall. If we are very quiet, perhaps we can spy upon the dancers, among whom are, no doubt, a few of my future flock."

They slipped inside and stood by the doors of the enormous and wonderfully ornate hall, watching the troop of dancers with delight. There were nearly forty young girls, each dressed in the traditional costume: a slim, violet and gold patterned ankle-length skirt, topped by a wide band of green-edged red silk that left slim shoulders and arms bare. A flamelike headdress of shining gold, a wide gold collar, and gold bracelets completed the ensemble.

Daisy was in the front row, near Princess Surya. Tom noted with pride that his sister had done well in picking up the nuances of the stately yet sensual dance. She might almost have been a princess herself, with her dark hair and great eyes, and her skin that was now turned a pale gold – she and Mother had both spent more time basking in the sunny women's garden these last weeks than was quite proper for aristocratic ladies, but no doubt their complexions would fade again to a more conventional hue during the coming months, before they reached England.

Tom's little sister was growing up. She would be taller than Mother, soon, just as he'd grown to surpass his father's height. And there were other changes: a slight curve of hip (if not yet of breast) that hadn't been there a year ago, and an occasional gravity of thought that sometimes contrasted oddly with her usual liveliness. With such parents, beauty was a given, but Marguerite Elizabeth Sparrow was a charming creature in ways that even her brother couldn't fail to acknowledge.

She saw him as soon as the dance stopped. "Tom!" she exclaimed, and she ran across the hall to him, laughing, for a number of the other girls were following her, all delighted squeals and scolds that they should have been seen by Men before the appointed time. They gathered around like a small tide of flowers, putting their hands together and bowing quite formally, and he and Wayan returned the favor. But Daisy was the only one to put out her hands for him to take. "Did you see us dancing, Tom? How long have you been standing here?"

"Just a few minutes," Tom said, giving the little hands a brief squeeze. "Where's Mother? Thought she'd be watching you."

"She was, but then she and the other women went to visit the youngest of the wives, who is –" Daisy leaned in close and whispered the rest. "—having a baby!"

"Oh!" said Tom, lifting his brows.

But Wayan said, "I'll go fetch your mother, Tom. My father's lady will have more help than she needs—or probably wants."

A few of the girls went with Wayan, but most of them stayed in the hall with Tom, smiling shyly (or not so shyly), making eyes, and, in a few cases, trying to converse, though everyone agreed he should not be there at all, foreign devil that he was, and would he not attend the Spring Festival where he could see the whole dance, they were sure to perform most excellently with the eyes of such a handsome man upon them. Tom grinned, and assured them that he and most of the Pearls would be there, including his father.

"The great pirate captain!" said Princess Surya, eyes sparkling and a blush rising. "Ah! The stories we have heard! Tell me, is it true that he made love to a thousand virgins and defeated an army of the Undead, single-handed, then flew from the battlements of a great tower, like the bird he is named for, to steal away your esteemed mother and take her to his bed as First Royal Concubine?"

Tom gaped briefly, then eyed his sister.

"I may have exaggerated just a little," she admitted, guiltily.

"A thousand virgins! You should be spanked for even thinking of that at your age."

"Oh, Tom, don't be silly," she said, fondly, slipping her hand into his again. "You won't tell?"

He scowled at her. "Do I ever?"

"No," she smiled, "Best of Brothers!"

Brief flashes of past Daisy-related incidents were running through his head – as if he hadn't garnered enough trouble on his own, at times! "So I am, you baggage. And don't you forget it."

To be continued...