Ambrosia of the Sea
Part Two: 1726—
8 Years Before the Death of Barbossa
5 Weeks After the HMS Dauntless Left England for Port Royal
Chapter 1
"Tell us what happened, lad."
Will Turner looked up into the stern face of Lieutenant Norrington. He shivered and pulled the blankets tighter around his frail body. Where were his clothes? The girl must have taken them. Elizabeth, that was her name. It was nearly all Will could remember. Just a name, floating at the edges of his mind, as if it was more than a name.
He gave a start as violent images flashed before his eyes, pushing the name away. Shouts, screams, running. An explosion. He flew over burning wood and passed crumpled bodies. A wall of ice hit him as he fell. Silence, black.
But he was here now. What happened?
"A hand…pulled me from the water," Will whispered as he stared out to sea. Whose hand? His silent question was echoed by one of the crew. Will shook his head. James Norrington snorted with impatience. The boy had been resting for nearly two days. He was the only survivor and it was Norrington's duty to pull the truth from him about the wreckage. The lieutenant ignored Gibbs' insistent ramblings about pirates.
Pirates—in his waters? Highly unlikely. Norrington had made sure those ruthless cretins knew the consequences of hunting in his woods. He wouldn't repeat the mistake that had cost his sister dearly.
"Lieutenant, the boy—" Gillette placed a hand on the man's shoulder. It shook lightly before James regained control of his memories. He looked to Will. The boy couldn't have been older than twelve. To be completely alone at that age…
"Let him rest. Get him some clothes." Gillette nodded to two crewmembers who led the boy below deck.
"Sir, we've been circling these waters for near two days now and haven't found a thing. The new governor is growing impatient to get to his post," said Gillette after they were alone. Norrington waved him into silence. He looked into the face of his first and best mate. Gillette could see the fury in his eyes. "James—" The lieutenant scoffed and went back to his post on the rail. As much as he tried to refuse the idea that pirates had anything to do with this incident…
Even Elizabeth had sworn to seeing the Jolly Roger flying beyond the wreckage. Norrington sighed. That Elizabeth would grow into a fine young woman one day.
"Ahoy! Storm brewing ahead!" came a cry from the crow's nest. The lieutenant looked out to the west. If this was indeed a storm, it was the oddest one he had ever seen. And yet it looked strangely familiar.
"Miss Swann! Mr. Gibbs!" Both came running to his side immediately.
"Curses," whispered Gibbs. Elizabeth stood with her eyes wide, staring at the dense fog covering the horizon. It was all the conformation Norrington needed.
"Make for that storm. Due west!" He ordered. The crew looked at him as if he had gone mad. A hand grabbed his shoulder.
"Lieutenant Norrington." It was Swann. "I must insist that we make for Port Royal at once. Elizabeth and I were supposed to arrive nearly 8 hours ago." Norrington scowled.
"James," came a voice from his other side. It was trusty Gillette—Norrington's walking conscience. He waved the governor away. "Even if it is…pirates…there's no sense in chasing them now." He continued cautiously, trying to avoid the lieutenant's temper. "The governor is right; we have a job to do. We need to see him and Elizabeth safely to Port Royal." Swann nodded from a few feet away. Norrington relaxed his grip on the rail.
"Very well," he said, thinking only of Elizabeth's safety.
After setting their course for the fort, Gillette returned to where Norrington stood staring out to sea.
"Revenge is hard work," he said, resting his arms on the rail.
"It's not revenge; it's justice," Norrington corrected.
"Of course. And if those bastards come anywhere near the fort, we'll make sure they receive adequate 'justice'." Norrington smiled.
"For high treason."
"And terrible hygiene," Gillette chimed in. Both men laughed as they sailed farther from the fog and into the light of a brilliant sunset.
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