Pirates of the Caribbean
The wooden door slammed opened as Commodore Norrington marched into Governor Swann's office, flanked by two soldiers in the British colors. Small wrinkles showed an aging, serious man and the thin line for his mouth showed a tense emotion. Governor Swann looked around at their grim faces, and he immediately realized their resentful disposition.
"The French navy has broken through our last defense, sir," the Commodore said roughly to the governor. Governor Swann had predicted this. He sighed and rubbed his temples, thinking intently. Nothing came to him. The French had been after British land for some time now, ever since they acquired a new leader, Vincent Chouteau. The mainland of the British Isles had been able to ward off main French attacks. However, the British also controlled a number of islands in the Caribbean area, and now the French had abandoned all thoughts of attacking the strong British mainland and focused on the Brit-controlled islands. The islands were protected by a strong, however small, navy force under the command of Commodore Norrington. The base of the navy was at Port Royal, where the governor and commodore stationed and orders were carried out.
"Any thoughts, sir?" Norrington pressed. The governor looked up at the commodore.
"Is there any word from Spain?"
"Yes, sir," replied Norrington, "but...they wish to remain neutral and denied our proposal for assistance."
Governor Swann rose from his chair and paced the ornate study, thoughts racing through his head. Before he had the chance to say anything, however, the commodore spoke up. "Sir, I have devised routes for our back- up ships to trace and intend for them to stop the incoming French navy. If our ships can hold the French back, I am willing to bet this war will be over before they even reach our island."
Governor Swann considered the notion. "And if we fail?"
Norrington was silent as he stared at the ground. He quickly looked at the governor. "Then, sir, it is more than likely that we will be forced to evacuate Port Royal, for this is the focus town of attack, as it is our base," he replied solemnly. The governor sighed deeply and sank back into his chair. "We've always been on friendly terms with the French," he said irritably. "Why now the sudden desire to attack us?"
"Well, sir, their new leader, Vincent Chouteau, is without any doubt the reason. He is hungry to gain new land. He gained the position of captain just to take over our land. That is, with all due respect, my alone opinion."
"And a very good one at that, Commodore," replied Governor Swann. "See to it that our navy takes this one last drastic attempt to avoid a battle here on this land." Commodore Norrington bowed slightly, and left, leaving the governor to dwell in his own thoughts.
"Please fetch my daughter. Bring her here," he said to his personal attendant whom was standing in the corner in silence. The attendant bowed and left the room. Minutes later, he returned, accompanied by a tall, beautiful woman with coiled curls cascading from a large bun at the back of her head. She wore a long blue dress with ruffles at the sleeves. She looked about in her mid-thirties, her pale face devoid of any trace of wrinkles or blemishes. She, however, was not the only one to join the party. A man who looked the same age walked behind her. His shoulder-length brown hair was tied in a simple pony tail, his shoulders were broad and his face was tanned; the evidence of a hard worker. He jaw was squarely set as his alert brown eyes looked from the governor to the woman. The attendant retreated back to his corner as Governor Swann addressed the man, "Ah, Will. Yes, I'm glad you came too." Then he looked at his daughter. "Elizabeth, countless times have you asked me to inform you of what goes on in the outside world, and now I'm going to tell you, and I'm asking for your advice."
Elizabeth looked surprised. She raised her eyebrows in question. Her father wrung his hands nervously then began to tell her the story of the French invasion. Both Elizabeth and Will listened attentively until the end, when Governor Swann stopped and breathed deeply, awaiting their reaction. Will drummed his fingers together while Elizabeth gazed at her father, lost in thought. She then turned to Will and he looked back, still tapping his fingers. Then she twisted abruptly in her chair back to the governor and said, "Father, I have an idea. You'll call me crazy, but...it's a chance."
Governor Swann leaned forward, desperate for suggestions. "Yes, dear?" Before answering Elizabeth cast a furtive look at Will. "Well...I think we should trace Captain Jack Sparrow down and ask the pirates to assist us." Will twitched in his chair. Governor Swann leaned back in astonishment, staring at his daughter as though she had grown an extra head. After what seem like forever, Governor Swann broke the loud silence that pulsed throughout the room.
"Elizabeth, darling, we haven't seen or heard from Captain Sparrow in over sixteen years," he said plainly.
"I know that," said Elizabeth swiftly. "But this is a drastic time that requires drastic measures. I know this idea is way out in the open, but think about it if we had the pirates on our side! We could – track them down, somehow." She looked doubtful saying this, but her voice was eager. The governor looked at Will. "Will, your thoughts?"
William Turner scratched his arm. "Well...Elizabeth makes a clear point, however..." He shot an apologetic look at Elizabeth, "we do not have the extra ships to send out to find the pirates, because all of our ships are defending against the French, right governor?" Governor Swann nodded gloomily. Elizabeth looked back and forth at the two of them.
"Well," she said stiffly, "I know I'll never forget what we did for Jack Sparrow; he owes us a favor in return."
"Jack did enough for us sixteen years ago," said Will, not looking at Elizabeth. "He saved both our lives quite a few times and – "
"I am aware of his actions, Will," Elizabeth said, her voice frosty. "All I'm saying is...with pirates on our side, we could easily defeat the French."
"Elizabeth, darling," Governor Swann interjected, "please. Think about what you're saying. You're implying that part of the Royal Navy sail out and look for someone who could have been dead for years. Then the search will be for nothing, and those ships will have missed out on fighting the French, our main problem here."
Silence followed this assessment. Elizabeth's lips were pursed as she surveyed her father. Before any of them could speak, the door of the study opened and a maid bustled in. "Milady," she addressed Elizabeth, "Maura is asking for you."
Elizabeth sighed and rose from her chair. Without glancing at her father or Will she marched after the maid.
"Sir, what do you plan to do?" Will asked the governor after Elizabeth was gone.
"Despite my daughter's views, I intend to stay with Commodore Norrington's decision and defend with our back-up ships. I just wanted your opinions on this matter," Governor Swann replied.
Will nodded and got to his feet. With one last look at the governor, he said, "Do you think there's a chance that Jack Sparrow is still alive, sir?"
Governor Swann looked oddly at Will. He hesitated before he answered. "Knowing him, Will, I believe it is highly possible."
~ ~
Jade Sparrow kicked, bit, and scratched at her captors. Three full grown men were needed to restrain the fifteen year old girl as they struggled down the stairs to the cellar of the French ship. She cried out in fury as they bent her arms behind her back and pulled her hair, doing whatever necessary to control her actions. Through the skirmish she heard a deep voice call out orders in French. She punched and fought harder, and then something made her freeze.
The cool metal of a gun barrel pressed hard on the right side of her neck. Her breath came in shallow, short gasps and she felt the sweat drip down her face. A harsh voice sounded in her ear. It was deep and in uneducated English said, "Cooperate or we shoot."
Jade felt her pulse hammer against the gun barrel. Obeying the pushing on her back, she walked forward deeper into the basement. Cell cubicles which bars stood from ground to ceiling resided on either side of her, each bearing a scared looking woman or child or both. Water dripped from the low ceiling causing her to slip on the wet floor. The French soldiers forced her all the way to the back of the cellar and only then did they remove the gun from her throat. They unlocked the farthest cell, opened the gated door on squeaky hinges, and pushed her inside. The door slammed shut and the soldier turned the key with a smart click. He then glared triumphantly at Jade and said something in French to the other soldiers. They all laughed maliciously, and departed, their shiny black boots tapping across the cold stone floor.
Jade slid down the cell bars onto the chilled ground. She pounded her fists on her knees and growled in frustration. She then stopped abruptly, feeling eyes upon her. Glancing up, she saw the women and children in the other cells staring at her in alarm. She didn't blame them; she knew her rough appearance was enough to cause people to stare. Her sandy colored hair clinked softly with beads, coins, and an assortment of trinkets entwined in braids. It fell to her shoulders, framing a tanned face with a stubborn chin. A large gold ring dangled from her left earlobe; above that was a smaller gold ring pierced in her ear cartilage. Her fingernails were chewed down to the skin, and the hands were callused from work. Gold rings tinkled on her fingers. On her right arm just above her wrist was the scar of the letter P burned into her skin. A young girl in the cell closest to Jade eyed the P in alarm. "You're – you're a pirate?" she inquired in a small voice. Jade turned her dark brown eyes upon the girl who recoiled into her mother's arms.
"Aye," Jade replied.
A shiver was sent through the onlookers. Jade ignored them and turned away, thinking of past events and how she had managed to end up a captive of the French Navy.
Her father was, of course, the infamous Jack Sparrow, captain of the also infamous ship, the Black Pearl. Her mother was just another woman Captain Sparrow had wooed on the long journey, and had died giving birth to Jade. So Jade remembered not her mother but the numerous journeys and adventures she took on with her father and the crew. To people who knew him, Jack did not seem the fatherly type, but he had had taught her everything he knew about being a pirate; sword fighting, hand-to-hand combat, "borrowing without permission", and how to lie efficiently were just a few of the many lessons Jack had taught his daughter.
Captain Sparrow had planned for the crew to sail into the Northern Atlantic to intercept some trading ships making their way from Europe to the New World in the west. The plan had gone fatally wrong, however, when the infamous ship was spotted by a fleet of French Navy ships that were making their way towards the Caribbean. One ship and a crew were no match for the strong French who overtook the Pearl. The crew fought bravely. Jade thrashed her sword viciously, killing four soldiers. But more and more French Naval officers boarded the ship, and within minutes they had Jade hindered. They began dragging her off the ship, and as she wrestled with all her might, she looked around wildly for her father. The last time she saw Jack Sparrow he was laying face down on the main deck, a sword fixed in his back.
She remembered her whole body go numb as the Frenchmen pulled her off her home ship; she had lost all will to rebel against them. The vision of her dead father played over and over in her head as she sat in a small boat rowing to the French fleet, which was drifting quietly some distance away. It was only as she boarded the ship when she snapped and all her rage let loose. The soldiers forced her to the cell she was contained in now, and she sat, hopelessly deceased of all she held onto before.
She figured they would sink the Pearl, her home for the last fifteen years. A thunderous explosion outside confirmed her thoughts. There went her home, her memories, her father. All lost to Davy Jones's Locker.
Jade rubbed her eyes which were burning to release tears. She held them back, determined to let not one drop fall. Crying wouldn't help her father come back. Crying wasn't going to fix anything that had happened, so what was the purpose of it?
She didn't know how long she sat there in silence. Finally, there was a noise down the long cellar; a door being opened. She heard footsteps descending the wooden stairs and then the click of boots on stone. She crawled to the front of her cell and pressed her head against the bars, peering at the broad-shouldered officer who had positioned himself in view of them all. In French he said something to the prisoners that sounded like a question. Nobody spoke. He repeated the line, and again it followed silence. Then the soldier took out his gun and muttered something else. The mother of the girl who had interrogated Jade gasped and started pleading rapidly in French. The soldier turned his cold eyes to her and spoke. She nodded, her wide eyes terrified as tears streamed down her cheeks. After a minute or so of this conversation, the soldier grunted approval and headed back up to the main deck. The woman cradled her daughter and addressed in English the rest of the prisoners. Her voice trembled as she spoke.
"He – he said that we would b-become servants on th-this ship. We will be waiting on the soldiers a-and the c-captain." She then turned to Jade. "He also said that the pirate girl w-will have to do t-twice as much because she's the daughter of J-Jack Sparrow."
Many gasps and cries followed this assessment. Jade threw daggers from her eyes as she surveyed the woman. "Captain Jack Sparrow," she growled. The woman didn't hear her, but instead announced, "There's more; he said we will receive food and water once we land at our destination, which is somewhere in the Caribbean. He – he didn't say anymore."
Jade blocked out all the conversations in the other cells and concentrated on their position. She couldn't remember where they had been in the Atlantic Ocean. It shouldn't have been far from the Caribbean, so they were probably not going to starve to death.
The Caribbean. Jade remembered her father telling her the elaborate story of his most epic adventure ever. Jade was never tired of hearing the story, and asked him to tell it daily, as if it had changed since the last time she heard it. She knew the story by heart now; she felt as if she knew the people her father had explained to her. Will Turner had saved Jack's life, and Elizabeth Swann Jade knew as a stubborn, determined young lady whom Jack had saved. The story was based all around one chest of Aztec gold...
Jade smiled wryly to herself. She knew her father's grand adventure had all taken place in the Caribbean and wondered if when they landed she would be anywhere near Will Turner or Elizabeth Swann.
She settled herself down on the floor, shivering slightly. She stared up at the gray ceiling which continued to leak. After a few minutes, the monotonous drip-drip sound lulled her into an uneasy sleep. Visions of her dead father were all her dreams showed.
~ ~
((((((((((Will Turner woke abruptly. He sat up in bed and glanced out the window; it was still dark outside. He was just wondering why he had woken so suddenly when a distant cry rang out from down the hall.
"Mummy! Daddy!"
Will sighed and pulled off the blankets, careful not to wake Elizabeth who was sleeping soundlessly next to him. He stood up, tip-toed to a chair where his shirt was hanging from and pulled it on. He was just about to exit when his daughter let out another cry, and this time Elizabeth stirred and groaned. Will hurried over to her and put his hands on her shoulders.
"Shh, shh...I've got her," he whispered and kissed her softly. Elizabeth sighed with relief and fell back asleep.
Will slipped out the door and sneaked down the hall, which was dimly lit with candles. Will pulled open a door that led to an ornately decorated room. A small girl was awake in her bed with tears flowing down her small face. Will hurried to his upset daughter.
"Maura, Maura..." he crooned. "What's wrong, darling?"
The little girl, around the age of six, sniffled incessantly. "I had a bad dream," she replied thickly. Will shook his head in pity.
"What was it about?"
Maura's wide, watery brown eyes gazed up at her father. "Guns, daddy. A lot of guns. People were shooting at each other on a boat." She broke into sobs again as her father stared at her in astonishment. He wasn't sure what to say, and he stuttered for words. "It – it was only a dream, darling...but would you like to spend the rest of the night with us?"
Maura nodded fervently. "Alright then," said Will. "C'mon." He picked her up and bounced her up and down a couple times, causing her to giggle softly. He led her back to his room and laid her quietly down on the bed. He crawled in after her and she curled up next to him and instantly fell asleep. Will, however, laid awake, thinking about what his daughter had dreamt of. It was odd; she had never been exposed to any sort of violence, not where he was concerned, at least, so it was strange that she would have a dream about what was obviously a battle. His last comforting thought before he fell back asleep was that he would discuss Maura's dream with Elizabeth, and they together would sort this out.)))))))))) (maybe going to delete this whole paragraph because it's sort of pointless)
~ ~
Jade jerked awake as someone shook her viciously. By instinct, she reached to her side to draw her sword, and grasped only air; the soldiers had taken her weapon. Still groggy, she heard chuckling above her. The same rude soldier that she had encountered the night before lingered over her, a pair of irons jangling from his hand. He pulled her up by her hair and snapped the irons on her hands; they were painfully tight and she bit her tongue to avoid letting out a yelp. He then led her out of the cell and to the stairs that led up to the main deck, where all the other prisoners were trudging tiredly. She noticed they didn't have irons clasped to their hands.
The soldier pushed her through the top hatch and humid air hit her face full blast. She scanned the horizon; a blood-red sun was rising, creating the illusion that the water was also crimson. The view would've been beautiful to her if it hadn't been for the vast contour of the entire French fleet, drifting beside the main ship.
The soldier grabbed the chain linking her irons and towed her towards the captain's cabin. He opened the huge double-doors and led her inside. A crystal chandelier hung over a large rectangular table that was littered with writing feathers, ink, and maps. The sunlight flowed through the mullioned window, creating eerie shadows against the walls. Brass goblets and mugs hung over a small stove that was set directly in front of the window. As the soldier forced her to a door in the corner of the room, she cast a furtive look at the maps. Her eyes landed on one that had the Caribbean Islands circled. She averted her eyes when they reached the door.
The soldier knocked twice, saying something in French. The door slowly opened, and Jade's eyes landed on a man in the French colors, sitting behind a large wooden desk. His black mustache was so neat it was as if he had combed it with a special brush, and he wore an enormous feather hat. Jade knew the man called Captain Vincent Chouteau when she saw him.
A personal servant held the door open for her and the soldier. As Jade sulked in, the captain stood and observed her through his beady black eyes, from the clinking ornaments in her hair to her brown boots. Jade's stomach did a small flip flop as she stared into those pitiless eyes.
"Aye, so you be th' pirate girl, eh?" he said in mock pirate lingo. His eyes danced with malice. "Please, by all means, take a seat." He motioned to one of two leather chairs in front of his desk. She did not budge.
"I'll stand."
An evil grin spread across his face. "Stubborn like your father. Well. That's to be expected."
Jade's heart raced. She was burning with the desire to punch this man straight on the nose, but that gun in the pouch connected to his belt made her think twice.
"Hold out your right hand," he said firmly. Jade did not obey. She wasn't about to sit back and abide by this man's orders. Captain Chouteau threw a look at large soldier friend. The soldier grabbed her right wrist and thrust it toward the captain. Jade held her breath as the captain's eyes landed on the burned P. Then he moved her shirtsleeve up her arm to reveal another tattoo. This one showed a large bird flying in front of a sunset over waves. A smaller bird was printed closely behind the larger one, indicating a young sparrow. The captain chuckled quietly. "Typical, typical," he muttered, rather to himself. Jade yanked her hand away in disgust.
The captain's face was impassive. He then said lightly, as if this were a simple conversation, "I suppose your wondering why you're here, and not with your dear old father. Believe me, we would put an end to your suffering, but we figured you have more – ah, values to be considered."
Jade tried not to look puzzled, but she was curious at what he was saying. A smile crawled onto his lips and he opened one of his desk drawers. He discarded a crinkled piece of paper and held it out to her. She hesitated, then received it slowly. There in the middle was a rough drawing of herself. In large, bold letters it read: WANTED: JADE SPARROW. DAUGHTER OF THE NOTORIOUS CAPTAIN JACK SPARROW. VERY DANGEROUS. IF YOU HAVE ANY INFORMATION OF THIS CRIMINAL, CONTACT THE LOCAL LAW ENFORCEMENT GROUP. REWARD INCLUDED.
Jade suddenly smiled and looked at the captain. "Finally, they understand that he's a captain, and not just some lone ol' pirate that murders people for the pleasure of it."
The captain's face hardened. "They'll also soon understand that your dear old daddy has been blown asunder, Miss Sparrow, and that the French Navy is responsible. One Sparrow down, one to go."
Jade swallowed with difficulty as the color drained from her face. The captain snatched the flyer out of her hands and stuffed it back into the drawer. "Now," he said, "to business."
Captain Chouteau lectured Jade for a straight ten minutes, reprimanding her that not one mistake could come from her servant duties. He gave the chores she were to accomplish and made it clear that he expected each one of them carried out. Jade stood there, staring at the ground, listening resentfully to him. From there she began the day's work; polishing the soldier's boots and equipment, scrubbing the deck, painting the captain's cabin door, and sweeping the soldiers' cabins. The other women and children scurried around the ship with their heads lowered, completing their assigned chores. Jade's tasks took nearly all day, and by the time the sun was setting, her muscles screamed for rest and her brain ached miserably. She was then escorted back to the brig where all the other servants had turned in and were already sleeping except the small girl in the cell nearest to hers who was watching her with wide eyes. Jade ignored the girl and looked gloomily around the brig. She noticed that her sword, both her daggers, gun, and faded-black overcoat had been hung on hooks directly in front of her cell; a tempting taunt.
Without any protest, she sulked into her cell. Her soldier friend didn't even have to shoot a snide remark in his native language as he locked the gate. She lay down on her sore back, staring desolately at the stone ceiling. After many minutes of deep thought, she clenched her fists in fury. She was going to escape. Somehow. She just needed an angle, because as of present, she didn't have many options.
Her stomach rumbled viciously, reminding her that she hadn't eaten in over a day and a half. Her throat was parched and her lips were dry and cracking. She moistened her lips with her tongue and it was at this moment that a drop of water fell from the leaky ceiling straight into her open eye. Swearing, she straightened up and blinked the water away. Using a variety of curse words in her lovely pirate vocabulary, she vented off her anger as more drops dribbled onto her head. The small girl gasped and covered her mouth at hearing such words. Fed up, Jade turned to her.
"Listen, you – er - little girl. I'd be very much obliged if you would stop staring at me, or I will not be a happy pirate. Savvy?"
The little girl squeaked in terror and retreated to the corner of her cell where her mother was sleeping soundlessly.
Jade was indifferent to the fact that she had just frightened a small girl. She cared more about the leak in the ceiling and the adequate puddle it was creating on the floor. Damp wood, she presumed, from the wash room. Or the lavatories, she added in repulsion. She glared up at the low ceiling as she skirted the puddle and moved to the dry, far corner. Before she drifted off into an uneasy sleep, she shot a covetous look at her sword and other weapons hanging right in front of her cell. With not an optimistic bone in her body, she closed her eyes and immediately fell asleep.
~ ~
"Do you have to go?"
"Yes."
"But you're not even a soldier! They have enough men – "
"I promised to help your father in any way possible."
Elizabeth glared at her husband, but didn't press the argument. Will was to set off with the Royal Navy to meet the French. He had volunteered, and the navy was more than happy to welcome a blacksmith on board; he would prove handy when mending broken equipment such as swords.
He was walking back and forth among the main dock, loading the Interceptor III, the main ship, with his supplies. Elizabeth tailed him like a pet dog. "You don't have to go – "
Will spun around and looked her straight in the eye. "I must. You know as well as I do that I do not enjoy sitting back and relaxing while action to save our land is taking place."
Elizabeth averted her eyes. The bell to signal the ships' departure rang out, causing the soldiers to scurry onto the boats, yelling orders to each other. Will lifted Elizabeth's chin and gave a weak smile. "I'll be back, don't you doubt that. I just need to – ah, reprimand the French." He grinned and kissed her quickly, then strode onto the Dauntless III where Governor Swann was waving to his daughter. The wind played with her hair as she stared out at the British fleet, one ship sailing out after another into the bright morning sun. She did not leave the dock until the last ship to leave Port Royal was out of sight on the horizon. With a deep sigh she turned and walked slowly back to the house.
The first day at sea was relaxing to Will; he did not have anything to do, as nobody needed their weapons mended. He settled with helping with chores, visiting with the sailors, and wandering the ship, watching ship skim across the water like butter on a plate.
The second night of their journey he settled down on the main deck, staring at the winking stars with his hands behind his head. The sailors were in the lower quarters of the ship, talking loudly and drinking. Will could only vaguely hear them – he concentrated on the wind whipping the white sails and the small flock of seagulls chiding to one another some distance off.
He was involuntarily drifting asleep when he heard a noise that was like a jarring note in a familiar tune – a hacking, unhealthy-sounding cough. Will sat up abruptly. The cough did not come from the drunk soldiers below or the Commodore or Governor, both who resided in the captain's quarters, but instead from the side of the ship in the water. Will leapt up and opened his mouth to cry man overboard, but he hesitated and made his way slowly to the side of the ship. He leaned over, gazing into the black depths. The waves cradled the ship as is sailed slowly through the water. Through the mist he saw a black figure clinging to the side of the ship by a dangling rope that was tied to the side of the boat. The figure coughed again, and Will's memory jolted – he knew that voice, although it was only dimly familiar....
Will squinted against the blackness, and was about to call out to whoever it was down below when the person raised his head and looked straight at Will. Will's mouth dropped open, his heart hammering against his ribs – he knew who the person was, but he did not believe it was possible...
"Commodore!" he cried toward the captain's cabin. "Governor Swann! Come quickly!"
~ ~(that should be a chapter end)
Jade did not awake in a good mood. Her clothes were damp; the puddle had allowed tiny rivers of water to flow right to where she slept. Her muscles and bones moaned with soreness, and her stomach growled reproachfully at her. She ignored it, but then felt a bit desperate – she had to get some food in her stomach or she would starve. She cast a furtive glance at the cell beside her which housed the little girl and her mother, presently sleeping, and noticed they were thin and pale as well. It was then when Jade wondered where they came from; where all the prisoners came from. They were obviously taken for maids, and possibly for pleasure of the soldiers.
She turned away and scuffed her boot absentmindedly into the ground. She knew another day's work would soon begin, and she stretched her muscles and then sat down, staring obliviously into space. Fiddling with a trinket in her hair, she wondered how long it was going to be before they reached wherever Captain Chouteau had planned; in other words, when she would get to eat.
She sat there longer than she thought she would have to; no soldier had come down to order her around yet. She frowned, puzzled, but not complaining...
It was as she began scraping the dirt from under her fingernails when it happened; the French ship suddenly gave a violent heave forward, sending Jade flying across the cell and slamming her back into the bars. She let out a cry of anger and pain as the other prisoners yelped and shrieked in surprise, awaking from their slumber. She disentangled herself and jumped up, bracing herself for another jolt. She heard hurried footsteps on the floor above her; orders were being shouted out. Two soldiers came pounding down the stairs and ran the length of the brig; past Jade's cell to the end where they snatched two bags of gun powder, then rushed back up the stairs onto the main deck.
An outburst of mutters and whispers broke across the women and children; what was going on? Were they being attacked? Could they possibly be freed somehow?
Jade herself found curiosity creeping up her spine. That sudden jerk had seemed like a large cannon ball slamming into the ship – she had felt that certain scenario plenty of times.
Another jolt – this time Jade was prepared. She gripped the bars to stop herself from toppling to the ground. Commotion and ruckus erupted up above. The crack in the ceiling leaked more persistently, due to the soldiers' steps.
Jade's mind raced. This attack – it was one, she thought, from the sound up above – could be either a very good thing, or a very bad thing. The assailant could be a band of pirates who would most likely take over the ship and then take her in. On the other hand, it was possible that the attacker would be unconcerned about whether or not they conquer the ship, the result: damaging it enough to sink it. The prisoners, who had no way to escape, would drown.
All she could think of to do was wait, and to consume time she plopped down and hummed a pirate's tune as another jolt took place.
~ ~
Will ran to the edge of the Dauntless III and gaped at the hundreds of ships, British and French, ahead. Cannon balls rocketed from both sides. The French seemed very disorganized as they shouted orders and made their way to the cannons. Will smiled grimly. Commodore Norrington's proposal of a sneak attack had worked; the French were utterly unprepared. A large fleet of the Royal Navy closed around the main group of the armada, forming a parenthesis-like shape. These outside ships were smaller and faster, moving ahead of the main group to distract the French from the war galleons moving in from the center.
Lieutenant McMeel rushed past Will towards the captain's cabin, having just checked the soldiers for preparedness. He gave Will a quick overlook.
"Arm yourself, Mr. Turner," he said, and proceeded to the captain's quarters.
Will gave him a small smile and a quick nod, then hopped down below deck to fetch his sword and dagger. Soldiers, their swords already unsheathed, hurried up and down the stairs, making any last adjustments for battle. Will followed a group of them back up to the main deck, where he found Commodore Norrington and Governor Swann in deep discussion. Forgetting manners, he marched right up to them and interrupted their conversation.
"How's he feeling? What's he saying? How did he get here? Why – "
"He's fine, Mr. Turner, as any man of his nature would be. Just a bit of the flu is all. As to what he's saying...I think it would be wise if we not discuss that here," interjected Norrington who seemed rather irritated that Will had had the nerve to interrupt them. "Now if you would excuse us." He and the governor left, leaving Will feeling rather desperate. He resided back to the side of the ship and leaned over the edge to once again survey the fierce battle that was taking place in front of him. He suddenly felt a wave of ease; he had fought against skeleton pirates and his own British Army before...a little French taste would be a breeze....
Knowing he was becoming overconfident, he straightened and fingered the hilt of his sword. The battle area loomed closer. Will turned in the opposite direction to see the large British fleet sailing close by, ready for battle.
~ ~
Jade cringed as a cannon ball came crashing through the wall into the brig, leaving a wide open hole in the side. Fortunately for the prisoners the brig was located not at the very bottom of the ship, therefore not under water. Sunlight streamed through the hole, and with eyes wide with surprise, Jade saw many British ships in the background, firing cannon balls this way and that. The young children huddled against their mothers and whimpered in fear. Jade shifted uncomfortably; she hated not being in the center of action, not being able to know what's going on. All the commotion above was not helpful.
A large crash – and a new sound, the sound of British war cries. Her heart leapt – the British had come aboard the French ship. Jade jumped up, her keen ears straining for anything that sounded like a French defeat.
For forty-five minutes all she heard was the clanging of swords, roaring of the soldiers, and the thunderstorm combined of cannons and guns outside. Gradually, the ruckus dwindled down to the last shouts and cries of pain, then finally to the British celebration of "Huzzah!" Jade let a sigh of relief escape. The Brits had won. The women and children seemed to get the idea of freedom too; the brig buzzed with excited whispers.
Several minutes later, the door squeaked open and four pairs of bloodstained black boots descended the stairs. Jade pressed her head against the bars, trying to see the soldiers better. All of them dressed in the redcoat British uniform, they looked around the brig, observing the musty and damp conditions. Then one spoke, "Jade Sparrow."
Numbly surprised, Jade answered, "Aye...?" The four soldiers strode the length of the brig to her cell. The one who had called to her said, "Stand back."
She obeyed as he took out his pistol and shot the lock to her cell away. He then pulled out a pair of irons and said, "Sorry, but I have my orders. Come quietly and there'll be no trouble."
Jade did not try to hide her confusion. Frowning, she approached him warily and held out her hands, all the time thinking this was not how she expected to be freed.
The soldier snapped the irons on, gripped the chain linking them, and escorted her out of the cell. She resisted against his pull for a split second, and looked back at her effects hanging on the wall.
"Those are mine," she said, indicating her possessions.
The soldier, who had whipped around when she had stopped, nodded and threw a look at one of the other officers, who withdrew her sword, daggers, gun, and overcoat from their hooks.
Flanked by the two remaining officers, she was then led to the stairs that led up to the main deck. Before they reached the trap door she nodded to the other prisoners who were staring in astonishment.
"What's gonna happen to them?" she asked.
"They'll be taken care of," replied the soldier. Deciding not to ask, she followed them up and out the trap door.
The sunlight hit her face full blast. Cringing, she adjusted to the natural light and stared at the sight around her.
The main deck was littered with bodies, French and British, along with swords and daggers. Pools of blood were stationed wherever she stepped. British soldiers were stepping over the bodies and examining them, checking for any survivors. The odor of death lingered in the air; Jade decided she had smelled it too many times.
She was led to a small rowboat, where she and the British officers were lowered into the rocking ocean. As the soldiers rowed around the ship, Jade surveyed the scene on the ocean surface in awe. Ships as far as she could see were burning, sinking, and dismantled by cannon balls.
As they rounded the ship, Jade saw to the south a large fleet of ships flying the British flag on their main masts. Celebration noise drifted to her ears from the ships. Not knowing what to expect, she sighed and looked down at her irons as the small boat floated closer to the Royal Navy.
~ ~
Will sat alone in his small compartment, cleaning and polishing the bloodstained swords. Up above on the main deck he heard the soldiers singing and rejoicing at the victory. He himself was not even included in the battle; he was given orders to stay behind on the Dauntless and prepare for the end of battle, which included heating up the fire to weld broken swords. Although he was a bit disappointed that he couldn't fight, he knew he shouldn't be upset that he hadn't risked his life.
He was dipping his cloth into the polishing ointment when a hush fell upon the celebrations above. Curious, he put the cloth down on the small table, stood up, and opened the door, listening hard into the silence.
One of his closest friends aboard, the soldier Eric, rushed down the narrow corridor and stopped when he saw Will. "Will!" he exclaimed in a hushed whisper. "Come on up here, mate, and have a look at this!"
Will closed the door and hurried to follow his friend up a small flight of stairs and to the hatch that led to the main deck. Eric opened it for him and let him climb up the ladder. Will clambered up the ladder and poked his head out, surveying the main deck.
The once-celebrating soldiers now stared quietly at four of their own who had just come aboard, along with a girl who looked in her teens. Will stared unblinkingly at her brown boots to her sandy colored hair that tinkled with beads and trinkets. She was dressed in men's clothes, a baggy white V-cut shirt with a belt around her waist which consisted of two dagger holds and an empty gun pouch. Her pants were a faded navy blue and were stained with mud and what looked like dried blood. Avoiding eye contact with any of the staring soldiers, she followed her escorting officers into the captain's cabin. The door shut smartly behind them, and at once the soldiers buzzed like bees, commentating on the new visitor.
"Who d'you reckon - ?"
"Prisoner?"
"Most likely...she was in irons..."
"But what importance is she to us?"
Will was wondering the same thing...who was the new visitor, and why was he so curious of her? The Navy had taken plenty of people captive, but women, let alone young girls, were rare. Frowning, he hopped down from the ladder to Eric who was grinning expectantly.
"Did you see her?" he asked.
Will nodded. "Yes."
"Not something you see every day, now, is it?" Eric insisted. Agreeing quickly, Will excused himself and trekked back to his room in thought.
Jade observed the main quarters with chary eyes. The inside looked extremely similar to Captain Chouteau's cabin, although the windows were not as unnaturally clean and the room radiated a sort of homey feel. The soldiers led her to a door in the far right corner, fumbled with a jagged key on their round key chain, and unlocked the door with a click. It was a cramped room with a small desk and a single comfortable chintz chair that was occupied by a portly, elderly-looking man with a long white wig that conveyed his social status. Behind the paper-strewed desk sat a younger man who wore a shorter white wig. Both were dressed in the blue Navy colors and staring at Jade.
"Well done, gentlemen," said the man behind the desk. "You've assisted in the capture of a wanted criminal that I plan to punish severely. Thank you, you may leave."
Jade gaped as the soldiers left the room. Here she thought she was as free as a bird, now it seemed she was being tossed back to captivity again.
As soon as the door snapped shut, the man behind the desk immediately dropped his formal disposition and let out a deep breath. Observing Jade with sharp eyes he asked, "You are Jade Sparrow, correct?"
Suspicion written across her face, she answered apprehensively, "Yes..."
The man made a gesture with his hand, as if to wipe away her wariness. "Do not mind my ill ways of lying to my own soldiers. We are not going to confine nor punish you at all. On the contrary, we would like to ask you a few questions."
Because she was now realizing that there would be no penalty against her, the fieriness that was embedded in her skin rose up an octave and she regained her naturally smooth composure. "Well it might be so that I want a few of my own questions answered. Sir," she added mockingly. A smile played across the man's lips. "Ah. Yes. Of course." He leaned back in his chair. "Well, ask away, Miss Pirate."
Gritting her teeth at this ridiculous name, she demanded, "How did you know I was hostage on that French ship? And if I'm such a "wanted criminal," why is it that you sent for me to be brought here when you could've simply blasted the ship to splinters with your lovely artillery?"
The wooden door slammed opened as Commodore Norrington marched into Governor Swann's office, flanked by two soldiers in the British colors. Small wrinkles showed an aging, serious man and the thin line for his mouth showed a tense emotion. Governor Swann looked around at their grim faces, and he immediately realized their resentful disposition.
"The French navy has broken through our last defense, sir," the Commodore said roughly to the governor. Governor Swann had predicted this. He sighed and rubbed his temples, thinking intently. Nothing came to him. The French had been after British land for some time now, ever since they acquired a new leader, Vincent Chouteau. The mainland of the British Isles had been able to ward off main French attacks. However, the British also controlled a number of islands in the Caribbean area, and now the French had abandoned all thoughts of attacking the strong British mainland and focused on the Brit-controlled islands. The islands were protected by a strong, however small, navy force under the command of Commodore Norrington. The base of the navy was at Port Royal, where the governor and commodore stationed and orders were carried out.
"Any thoughts, sir?" Norrington pressed. The governor looked up at the commodore.
"Is there any word from Spain?"
"Yes, sir," replied Norrington, "but...they wish to remain neutral and denied our proposal for assistance."
Governor Swann rose from his chair and paced the ornate study, thoughts racing through his head. Before he had the chance to say anything, however, the commodore spoke up. "Sir, I have devised routes for our back- up ships to trace and intend for them to stop the incoming French navy. If our ships can hold the French back, I am willing to bet this war will be over before they even reach our island."
Governor Swann considered the notion. "And if we fail?"
Norrington was silent as he stared at the ground. He quickly looked at the governor. "Then, sir, it is more than likely that we will be forced to evacuate Port Royal, for this is the focus town of attack, as it is our base," he replied solemnly. The governor sighed deeply and sank back into his chair. "We've always been on friendly terms with the French," he said irritably. "Why now the sudden desire to attack us?"
"Well, sir, their new leader, Vincent Chouteau, is without any doubt the reason. He is hungry to gain new land. He gained the position of captain just to take over our land. That is, with all due respect, my alone opinion."
"And a very good one at that, Commodore," replied Governor Swann. "See to it that our navy takes this one last drastic attempt to avoid a battle here on this land." Commodore Norrington bowed slightly, and left, leaving the governor to dwell in his own thoughts.
"Please fetch my daughter. Bring her here," he said to his personal attendant whom was standing in the corner in silence. The attendant bowed and left the room. Minutes later, he returned, accompanied by a tall, beautiful woman with coiled curls cascading from a large bun at the back of her head. She wore a long blue dress with ruffles at the sleeves. She looked about in her mid-thirties, her pale face devoid of any trace of wrinkles or blemishes. She, however, was not the only one to join the party. A man who looked the same age walked behind her. His shoulder-length brown hair was tied in a simple pony tail, his shoulders were broad and his face was tanned; the evidence of a hard worker. He jaw was squarely set as his alert brown eyes looked from the governor to the woman. The attendant retreated back to his corner as Governor Swann addressed the man, "Ah, Will. Yes, I'm glad you came too." Then he looked at his daughter. "Elizabeth, countless times have you asked me to inform you of what goes on in the outside world, and now I'm going to tell you, and I'm asking for your advice."
Elizabeth looked surprised. She raised her eyebrows in question. Her father wrung his hands nervously then began to tell her the story of the French invasion. Both Elizabeth and Will listened attentively until the end, when Governor Swann stopped and breathed deeply, awaiting their reaction. Will drummed his fingers together while Elizabeth gazed at her father, lost in thought. She then turned to Will and he looked back, still tapping his fingers. Then she twisted abruptly in her chair back to the governor and said, "Father, I have an idea. You'll call me crazy, but...it's a chance."
Governor Swann leaned forward, desperate for suggestions. "Yes, dear?" Before answering Elizabeth cast a furtive look at Will. "Well...I think we should trace Captain Jack Sparrow down and ask the pirates to assist us." Will twitched in his chair. Governor Swann leaned back in astonishment, staring at his daughter as though she had grown an extra head. After what seem like forever, Governor Swann broke the loud silence that pulsed throughout the room.
"Elizabeth, darling, we haven't seen or heard from Captain Sparrow in over sixteen years," he said plainly.
"I know that," said Elizabeth swiftly. "But this is a drastic time that requires drastic measures. I know this idea is way out in the open, but think about it if we had the pirates on our side! We could – track them down, somehow." She looked doubtful saying this, but her voice was eager. The governor looked at Will. "Will, your thoughts?"
William Turner scratched his arm. "Well...Elizabeth makes a clear point, however..." He shot an apologetic look at Elizabeth, "we do not have the extra ships to send out to find the pirates, because all of our ships are defending against the French, right governor?" Governor Swann nodded gloomily. Elizabeth looked back and forth at the two of them.
"Well," she said stiffly, "I know I'll never forget what we did for Jack Sparrow; he owes us a favor in return."
"Jack did enough for us sixteen years ago," said Will, not looking at Elizabeth. "He saved both our lives quite a few times and – "
"I am aware of his actions, Will," Elizabeth said, her voice frosty. "All I'm saying is...with pirates on our side, we could easily defeat the French."
"Elizabeth, darling," Governor Swann interjected, "please. Think about what you're saying. You're implying that part of the Royal Navy sail out and look for someone who could have been dead for years. Then the search will be for nothing, and those ships will have missed out on fighting the French, our main problem here."
Silence followed this assessment. Elizabeth's lips were pursed as she surveyed her father. Before any of them could speak, the door of the study opened and a maid bustled in. "Milady," she addressed Elizabeth, "Maura is asking for you."
Elizabeth sighed and rose from her chair. Without glancing at her father or Will she marched after the maid.
"Sir, what do you plan to do?" Will asked the governor after Elizabeth was gone.
"Despite my daughter's views, I intend to stay with Commodore Norrington's decision and defend with our back-up ships. I just wanted your opinions on this matter," Governor Swann replied.
Will nodded and got to his feet. With one last look at the governor, he said, "Do you think there's a chance that Jack Sparrow is still alive, sir?"
Governor Swann looked oddly at Will. He hesitated before he answered. "Knowing him, Will, I believe it is highly possible."
~ ~
Jade Sparrow kicked, bit, and scratched at her captors. Three full grown men were needed to restrain the fifteen year old girl as they struggled down the stairs to the cellar of the French ship. She cried out in fury as they bent her arms behind her back and pulled her hair, doing whatever necessary to control her actions. Through the skirmish she heard a deep voice call out orders in French. She punched and fought harder, and then something made her freeze.
The cool metal of a gun barrel pressed hard on the right side of her neck. Her breath came in shallow, short gasps and she felt the sweat drip down her face. A harsh voice sounded in her ear. It was deep and in uneducated English said, "Cooperate or we shoot."
Jade felt her pulse hammer against the gun barrel. Obeying the pushing on her back, she walked forward deeper into the basement. Cell cubicles which bars stood from ground to ceiling resided on either side of her, each bearing a scared looking woman or child or both. Water dripped from the low ceiling causing her to slip on the wet floor. The French soldiers forced her all the way to the back of the cellar and only then did they remove the gun from her throat. They unlocked the farthest cell, opened the gated door on squeaky hinges, and pushed her inside. The door slammed shut and the soldier turned the key with a smart click. He then glared triumphantly at Jade and said something in French to the other soldiers. They all laughed maliciously, and departed, their shiny black boots tapping across the cold stone floor.
Jade slid down the cell bars onto the chilled ground. She pounded her fists on her knees and growled in frustration. She then stopped abruptly, feeling eyes upon her. Glancing up, she saw the women and children in the other cells staring at her in alarm. She didn't blame them; she knew her rough appearance was enough to cause people to stare. Her sandy colored hair clinked softly with beads, coins, and an assortment of trinkets entwined in braids. It fell to her shoulders, framing a tanned face with a stubborn chin. A large gold ring dangled from her left earlobe; above that was a smaller gold ring pierced in her ear cartilage. Her fingernails were chewed down to the skin, and the hands were callused from work. Gold rings tinkled on her fingers. On her right arm just above her wrist was the scar of the letter P burned into her skin. A young girl in the cell closest to Jade eyed the P in alarm. "You're – you're a pirate?" she inquired in a small voice. Jade turned her dark brown eyes upon the girl who recoiled into her mother's arms.
"Aye," Jade replied.
A shiver was sent through the onlookers. Jade ignored them and turned away, thinking of past events and how she had managed to end up a captive of the French Navy.
Her father was, of course, the infamous Jack Sparrow, captain of the also infamous ship, the Black Pearl. Her mother was just another woman Captain Sparrow had wooed on the long journey, and had died giving birth to Jade. So Jade remembered not her mother but the numerous journeys and adventures she took on with her father and the crew. To people who knew him, Jack did not seem the fatherly type, but he had had taught her everything he knew about being a pirate; sword fighting, hand-to-hand combat, "borrowing without permission", and how to lie efficiently were just a few of the many lessons Jack had taught his daughter.
Captain Sparrow had planned for the crew to sail into the Northern Atlantic to intercept some trading ships making their way from Europe to the New World in the west. The plan had gone fatally wrong, however, when the infamous ship was spotted by a fleet of French Navy ships that were making their way towards the Caribbean. One ship and a crew were no match for the strong French who overtook the Pearl. The crew fought bravely. Jade thrashed her sword viciously, killing four soldiers. But more and more French Naval officers boarded the ship, and within minutes they had Jade hindered. They began dragging her off the ship, and as she wrestled with all her might, she looked around wildly for her father. The last time she saw Jack Sparrow he was laying face down on the main deck, a sword fixed in his back.
She remembered her whole body go numb as the Frenchmen pulled her off her home ship; she had lost all will to rebel against them. The vision of her dead father played over and over in her head as she sat in a small boat rowing to the French fleet, which was drifting quietly some distance away. It was only as she boarded the ship when she snapped and all her rage let loose. The soldiers forced her to the cell she was contained in now, and she sat, hopelessly deceased of all she held onto before.
She figured they would sink the Pearl, her home for the last fifteen years. A thunderous explosion outside confirmed her thoughts. There went her home, her memories, her father. All lost to Davy Jones's Locker.
Jade rubbed her eyes which were burning to release tears. She held them back, determined to let not one drop fall. Crying wouldn't help her father come back. Crying wasn't going to fix anything that had happened, so what was the purpose of it?
She didn't know how long she sat there in silence. Finally, there was a noise down the long cellar; a door being opened. She heard footsteps descending the wooden stairs and then the click of boots on stone. She crawled to the front of her cell and pressed her head against the bars, peering at the broad-shouldered officer who had positioned himself in view of them all. In French he said something to the prisoners that sounded like a question. Nobody spoke. He repeated the line, and again it followed silence. Then the soldier took out his gun and muttered something else. The mother of the girl who had interrogated Jade gasped and started pleading rapidly in French. The soldier turned his cold eyes to her and spoke. She nodded, her wide eyes terrified as tears streamed down her cheeks. After a minute or so of this conversation, the soldier grunted approval and headed back up to the main deck. The woman cradled her daughter and addressed in English the rest of the prisoners. Her voice trembled as she spoke.
"He – he said that we would b-become servants on th-this ship. We will be waiting on the soldiers a-and the c-captain." She then turned to Jade. "He also said that the pirate girl w-will have to do t-twice as much because she's the daughter of J-Jack Sparrow."
Many gasps and cries followed this assessment. Jade threw daggers from her eyes as she surveyed the woman. "Captain Jack Sparrow," she growled. The woman didn't hear her, but instead announced, "There's more; he said we will receive food and water once we land at our destination, which is somewhere in the Caribbean. He – he didn't say anymore."
Jade blocked out all the conversations in the other cells and concentrated on their position. She couldn't remember where they had been in the Atlantic Ocean. It shouldn't have been far from the Caribbean, so they were probably not going to starve to death.
The Caribbean. Jade remembered her father telling her the elaborate story of his most epic adventure ever. Jade was never tired of hearing the story, and asked him to tell it daily, as if it had changed since the last time she heard it. She knew the story by heart now; she felt as if she knew the people her father had explained to her. Will Turner had saved Jack's life, and Elizabeth Swann Jade knew as a stubborn, determined young lady whom Jack had saved. The story was based all around one chest of Aztec gold...
Jade smiled wryly to herself. She knew her father's grand adventure had all taken place in the Caribbean and wondered if when they landed she would be anywhere near Will Turner or Elizabeth Swann.
She settled herself down on the floor, shivering slightly. She stared up at the gray ceiling which continued to leak. After a few minutes, the monotonous drip-drip sound lulled her into an uneasy sleep. Visions of her dead father were all her dreams showed.
~ ~
((((((((((Will Turner woke abruptly. He sat up in bed and glanced out the window; it was still dark outside. He was just wondering why he had woken so suddenly when a distant cry rang out from down the hall.
"Mummy! Daddy!"
Will sighed and pulled off the blankets, careful not to wake Elizabeth who was sleeping soundlessly next to him. He stood up, tip-toed to a chair where his shirt was hanging from and pulled it on. He was just about to exit when his daughter let out another cry, and this time Elizabeth stirred and groaned. Will hurried over to her and put his hands on her shoulders.
"Shh, shh...I've got her," he whispered and kissed her softly. Elizabeth sighed with relief and fell back asleep.
Will slipped out the door and sneaked down the hall, which was dimly lit with candles. Will pulled open a door that led to an ornately decorated room. A small girl was awake in her bed with tears flowing down her small face. Will hurried to his upset daughter.
"Maura, Maura..." he crooned. "What's wrong, darling?"
The little girl, around the age of six, sniffled incessantly. "I had a bad dream," she replied thickly. Will shook his head in pity.
"What was it about?"
Maura's wide, watery brown eyes gazed up at her father. "Guns, daddy. A lot of guns. People were shooting at each other on a boat." She broke into sobs again as her father stared at her in astonishment. He wasn't sure what to say, and he stuttered for words. "It – it was only a dream, darling...but would you like to spend the rest of the night with us?"
Maura nodded fervently. "Alright then," said Will. "C'mon." He picked her up and bounced her up and down a couple times, causing her to giggle softly. He led her back to his room and laid her quietly down on the bed. He crawled in after her and she curled up next to him and instantly fell asleep. Will, however, laid awake, thinking about what his daughter had dreamt of. It was odd; she had never been exposed to any sort of violence, not where he was concerned, at least, so it was strange that she would have a dream about what was obviously a battle. His last comforting thought before he fell back asleep was that he would discuss Maura's dream with Elizabeth, and they together would sort this out.)))))))))) (maybe going to delete this whole paragraph because it's sort of pointless)
~ ~
Jade jerked awake as someone shook her viciously. By instinct, she reached to her side to draw her sword, and grasped only air; the soldiers had taken her weapon. Still groggy, she heard chuckling above her. The same rude soldier that she had encountered the night before lingered over her, a pair of irons jangling from his hand. He pulled her up by her hair and snapped the irons on her hands; they were painfully tight and she bit her tongue to avoid letting out a yelp. He then led her out of the cell and to the stairs that led up to the main deck, where all the other prisoners were trudging tiredly. She noticed they didn't have irons clasped to their hands.
The soldier pushed her through the top hatch and humid air hit her face full blast. She scanned the horizon; a blood-red sun was rising, creating the illusion that the water was also crimson. The view would've been beautiful to her if it hadn't been for the vast contour of the entire French fleet, drifting beside the main ship.
The soldier grabbed the chain linking her irons and towed her towards the captain's cabin. He opened the huge double-doors and led her inside. A crystal chandelier hung over a large rectangular table that was littered with writing feathers, ink, and maps. The sunlight flowed through the mullioned window, creating eerie shadows against the walls. Brass goblets and mugs hung over a small stove that was set directly in front of the window. As the soldier forced her to a door in the corner of the room, she cast a furtive look at the maps. Her eyes landed on one that had the Caribbean Islands circled. She averted her eyes when they reached the door.
The soldier knocked twice, saying something in French. The door slowly opened, and Jade's eyes landed on a man in the French colors, sitting behind a large wooden desk. His black mustache was so neat it was as if he had combed it with a special brush, and he wore an enormous feather hat. Jade knew the man called Captain Vincent Chouteau when she saw him.
A personal servant held the door open for her and the soldier. As Jade sulked in, the captain stood and observed her through his beady black eyes, from the clinking ornaments in her hair to her brown boots. Jade's stomach did a small flip flop as she stared into those pitiless eyes.
"Aye, so you be th' pirate girl, eh?" he said in mock pirate lingo. His eyes danced with malice. "Please, by all means, take a seat." He motioned to one of two leather chairs in front of his desk. She did not budge.
"I'll stand."
An evil grin spread across his face. "Stubborn like your father. Well. That's to be expected."
Jade's heart raced. She was burning with the desire to punch this man straight on the nose, but that gun in the pouch connected to his belt made her think twice.
"Hold out your right hand," he said firmly. Jade did not obey. She wasn't about to sit back and abide by this man's orders. Captain Chouteau threw a look at large soldier friend. The soldier grabbed her right wrist and thrust it toward the captain. Jade held her breath as the captain's eyes landed on the burned P. Then he moved her shirtsleeve up her arm to reveal another tattoo. This one showed a large bird flying in front of a sunset over waves. A smaller bird was printed closely behind the larger one, indicating a young sparrow. The captain chuckled quietly. "Typical, typical," he muttered, rather to himself. Jade yanked her hand away in disgust.
The captain's face was impassive. He then said lightly, as if this were a simple conversation, "I suppose your wondering why you're here, and not with your dear old father. Believe me, we would put an end to your suffering, but we figured you have more – ah, values to be considered."
Jade tried not to look puzzled, but she was curious at what he was saying. A smile crawled onto his lips and he opened one of his desk drawers. He discarded a crinkled piece of paper and held it out to her. She hesitated, then received it slowly. There in the middle was a rough drawing of herself. In large, bold letters it read: WANTED: JADE SPARROW. DAUGHTER OF THE NOTORIOUS CAPTAIN JACK SPARROW. VERY DANGEROUS. IF YOU HAVE ANY INFORMATION OF THIS CRIMINAL, CONTACT THE LOCAL LAW ENFORCEMENT GROUP. REWARD INCLUDED.
Jade suddenly smiled and looked at the captain. "Finally, they understand that he's a captain, and not just some lone ol' pirate that murders people for the pleasure of it."
The captain's face hardened. "They'll also soon understand that your dear old daddy has been blown asunder, Miss Sparrow, and that the French Navy is responsible. One Sparrow down, one to go."
Jade swallowed with difficulty as the color drained from her face. The captain snatched the flyer out of her hands and stuffed it back into the drawer. "Now," he said, "to business."
Captain Chouteau lectured Jade for a straight ten minutes, reprimanding her that not one mistake could come from her servant duties. He gave the chores she were to accomplish and made it clear that he expected each one of them carried out. Jade stood there, staring at the ground, listening resentfully to him. From there she began the day's work; polishing the soldier's boots and equipment, scrubbing the deck, painting the captain's cabin door, and sweeping the soldiers' cabins. The other women and children scurried around the ship with their heads lowered, completing their assigned chores. Jade's tasks took nearly all day, and by the time the sun was setting, her muscles screamed for rest and her brain ached miserably. She was then escorted back to the brig where all the other servants had turned in and were already sleeping except the small girl in the cell nearest to hers who was watching her with wide eyes. Jade ignored the girl and looked gloomily around the brig. She noticed that her sword, both her daggers, gun, and faded-black overcoat had been hung on hooks directly in front of her cell; a tempting taunt.
Without any protest, she sulked into her cell. Her soldier friend didn't even have to shoot a snide remark in his native language as he locked the gate. She lay down on her sore back, staring desolately at the stone ceiling. After many minutes of deep thought, she clenched her fists in fury. She was going to escape. Somehow. She just needed an angle, because as of present, she didn't have many options.
Her stomach rumbled viciously, reminding her that she hadn't eaten in over a day and a half. Her throat was parched and her lips were dry and cracking. She moistened her lips with her tongue and it was at this moment that a drop of water fell from the leaky ceiling straight into her open eye. Swearing, she straightened up and blinked the water away. Using a variety of curse words in her lovely pirate vocabulary, she vented off her anger as more drops dribbled onto her head. The small girl gasped and covered her mouth at hearing such words. Fed up, Jade turned to her.
"Listen, you – er - little girl. I'd be very much obliged if you would stop staring at me, or I will not be a happy pirate. Savvy?"
The little girl squeaked in terror and retreated to the corner of her cell where her mother was sleeping soundlessly.
Jade was indifferent to the fact that she had just frightened a small girl. She cared more about the leak in the ceiling and the adequate puddle it was creating on the floor. Damp wood, she presumed, from the wash room. Or the lavatories, she added in repulsion. She glared up at the low ceiling as she skirted the puddle and moved to the dry, far corner. Before she drifted off into an uneasy sleep, she shot a covetous look at her sword and other weapons hanging right in front of her cell. With not an optimistic bone in her body, she closed her eyes and immediately fell asleep.
~ ~
"Do you have to go?"
"Yes."
"But you're not even a soldier! They have enough men – "
"I promised to help your father in any way possible."
Elizabeth glared at her husband, but didn't press the argument. Will was to set off with the Royal Navy to meet the French. He had volunteered, and the navy was more than happy to welcome a blacksmith on board; he would prove handy when mending broken equipment such as swords.
He was walking back and forth among the main dock, loading the Interceptor III, the main ship, with his supplies. Elizabeth tailed him like a pet dog. "You don't have to go – "
Will spun around and looked her straight in the eye. "I must. You know as well as I do that I do not enjoy sitting back and relaxing while action to save our land is taking place."
Elizabeth averted her eyes. The bell to signal the ships' departure rang out, causing the soldiers to scurry onto the boats, yelling orders to each other. Will lifted Elizabeth's chin and gave a weak smile. "I'll be back, don't you doubt that. I just need to – ah, reprimand the French." He grinned and kissed her quickly, then strode onto the Dauntless III where Governor Swann was waving to his daughter. The wind played with her hair as she stared out at the British fleet, one ship sailing out after another into the bright morning sun. She did not leave the dock until the last ship to leave Port Royal was out of sight on the horizon. With a deep sigh she turned and walked slowly back to the house.
The first day at sea was relaxing to Will; he did not have anything to do, as nobody needed their weapons mended. He settled with helping with chores, visiting with the sailors, and wandering the ship, watching ship skim across the water like butter on a plate.
The second night of their journey he settled down on the main deck, staring at the winking stars with his hands behind his head. The sailors were in the lower quarters of the ship, talking loudly and drinking. Will could only vaguely hear them – he concentrated on the wind whipping the white sails and the small flock of seagulls chiding to one another some distance off.
He was involuntarily drifting asleep when he heard a noise that was like a jarring note in a familiar tune – a hacking, unhealthy-sounding cough. Will sat up abruptly. The cough did not come from the drunk soldiers below or the Commodore or Governor, both who resided in the captain's quarters, but instead from the side of the ship in the water. Will leapt up and opened his mouth to cry man overboard, but he hesitated and made his way slowly to the side of the ship. He leaned over, gazing into the black depths. The waves cradled the ship as is sailed slowly through the water. Through the mist he saw a black figure clinging to the side of the ship by a dangling rope that was tied to the side of the boat. The figure coughed again, and Will's memory jolted – he knew that voice, although it was only dimly familiar....
Will squinted against the blackness, and was about to call out to whoever it was down below when the person raised his head and looked straight at Will. Will's mouth dropped open, his heart hammering against his ribs – he knew who the person was, but he did not believe it was possible...
"Commodore!" he cried toward the captain's cabin. "Governor Swann! Come quickly!"
~ ~(that should be a chapter end)
Jade did not awake in a good mood. Her clothes were damp; the puddle had allowed tiny rivers of water to flow right to where she slept. Her muscles and bones moaned with soreness, and her stomach growled reproachfully at her. She ignored it, but then felt a bit desperate – she had to get some food in her stomach or she would starve. She cast a furtive glance at the cell beside her which housed the little girl and her mother, presently sleeping, and noticed they were thin and pale as well. It was then when Jade wondered where they came from; where all the prisoners came from. They were obviously taken for maids, and possibly for pleasure of the soldiers.
She turned away and scuffed her boot absentmindedly into the ground. She knew another day's work would soon begin, and she stretched her muscles and then sat down, staring obliviously into space. Fiddling with a trinket in her hair, she wondered how long it was going to be before they reached wherever Captain Chouteau had planned; in other words, when she would get to eat.
She sat there longer than she thought she would have to; no soldier had come down to order her around yet. She frowned, puzzled, but not complaining...
It was as she began scraping the dirt from under her fingernails when it happened; the French ship suddenly gave a violent heave forward, sending Jade flying across the cell and slamming her back into the bars. She let out a cry of anger and pain as the other prisoners yelped and shrieked in surprise, awaking from their slumber. She disentangled herself and jumped up, bracing herself for another jolt. She heard hurried footsteps on the floor above her; orders were being shouted out. Two soldiers came pounding down the stairs and ran the length of the brig; past Jade's cell to the end where they snatched two bags of gun powder, then rushed back up the stairs onto the main deck.
An outburst of mutters and whispers broke across the women and children; what was going on? Were they being attacked? Could they possibly be freed somehow?
Jade herself found curiosity creeping up her spine. That sudden jerk had seemed like a large cannon ball slamming into the ship – she had felt that certain scenario plenty of times.
Another jolt – this time Jade was prepared. She gripped the bars to stop herself from toppling to the ground. Commotion and ruckus erupted up above. The crack in the ceiling leaked more persistently, due to the soldiers' steps.
Jade's mind raced. This attack – it was one, she thought, from the sound up above – could be either a very good thing, or a very bad thing. The assailant could be a band of pirates who would most likely take over the ship and then take her in. On the other hand, it was possible that the attacker would be unconcerned about whether or not they conquer the ship, the result: damaging it enough to sink it. The prisoners, who had no way to escape, would drown.
All she could think of to do was wait, and to consume time she plopped down and hummed a pirate's tune as another jolt took place.
~ ~
Will ran to the edge of the Dauntless III and gaped at the hundreds of ships, British and French, ahead. Cannon balls rocketed from both sides. The French seemed very disorganized as they shouted orders and made their way to the cannons. Will smiled grimly. Commodore Norrington's proposal of a sneak attack had worked; the French were utterly unprepared. A large fleet of the Royal Navy closed around the main group of the armada, forming a parenthesis-like shape. These outside ships were smaller and faster, moving ahead of the main group to distract the French from the war galleons moving in from the center.
Lieutenant McMeel rushed past Will towards the captain's cabin, having just checked the soldiers for preparedness. He gave Will a quick overlook.
"Arm yourself, Mr. Turner," he said, and proceeded to the captain's quarters.
Will gave him a small smile and a quick nod, then hopped down below deck to fetch his sword and dagger. Soldiers, their swords already unsheathed, hurried up and down the stairs, making any last adjustments for battle. Will followed a group of them back up to the main deck, where he found Commodore Norrington and Governor Swann in deep discussion. Forgetting manners, he marched right up to them and interrupted their conversation.
"How's he feeling? What's he saying? How did he get here? Why – "
"He's fine, Mr. Turner, as any man of his nature would be. Just a bit of the flu is all. As to what he's saying...I think it would be wise if we not discuss that here," interjected Norrington who seemed rather irritated that Will had had the nerve to interrupt them. "Now if you would excuse us." He and the governor left, leaving Will feeling rather desperate. He resided back to the side of the ship and leaned over the edge to once again survey the fierce battle that was taking place in front of him. He suddenly felt a wave of ease; he had fought against skeleton pirates and his own British Army before...a little French taste would be a breeze....
Knowing he was becoming overconfident, he straightened and fingered the hilt of his sword. The battle area loomed closer. Will turned in the opposite direction to see the large British fleet sailing close by, ready for battle.
~ ~
Jade cringed as a cannon ball came crashing through the wall into the brig, leaving a wide open hole in the side. Fortunately for the prisoners the brig was located not at the very bottom of the ship, therefore not under water. Sunlight streamed through the hole, and with eyes wide with surprise, Jade saw many British ships in the background, firing cannon balls this way and that. The young children huddled against their mothers and whimpered in fear. Jade shifted uncomfortably; she hated not being in the center of action, not being able to know what's going on. All the commotion above was not helpful.
A large crash – and a new sound, the sound of British war cries. Her heart leapt – the British had come aboard the French ship. Jade jumped up, her keen ears straining for anything that sounded like a French defeat.
For forty-five minutes all she heard was the clanging of swords, roaring of the soldiers, and the thunderstorm combined of cannons and guns outside. Gradually, the ruckus dwindled down to the last shouts and cries of pain, then finally to the British celebration of "Huzzah!" Jade let a sigh of relief escape. The Brits had won. The women and children seemed to get the idea of freedom too; the brig buzzed with excited whispers.
Several minutes later, the door squeaked open and four pairs of bloodstained black boots descended the stairs. Jade pressed her head against the bars, trying to see the soldiers better. All of them dressed in the redcoat British uniform, they looked around the brig, observing the musty and damp conditions. Then one spoke, "Jade Sparrow."
Numbly surprised, Jade answered, "Aye...?" The four soldiers strode the length of the brig to her cell. The one who had called to her said, "Stand back."
She obeyed as he took out his pistol and shot the lock to her cell away. He then pulled out a pair of irons and said, "Sorry, but I have my orders. Come quietly and there'll be no trouble."
Jade did not try to hide her confusion. Frowning, she approached him warily and held out her hands, all the time thinking this was not how she expected to be freed.
The soldier snapped the irons on, gripped the chain linking them, and escorted her out of the cell. She resisted against his pull for a split second, and looked back at her effects hanging on the wall.
"Those are mine," she said, indicating her possessions.
The soldier, who had whipped around when she had stopped, nodded and threw a look at one of the other officers, who withdrew her sword, daggers, gun, and overcoat from their hooks.
Flanked by the two remaining officers, she was then led to the stairs that led up to the main deck. Before they reached the trap door she nodded to the other prisoners who were staring in astonishment.
"What's gonna happen to them?" she asked.
"They'll be taken care of," replied the soldier. Deciding not to ask, she followed them up and out the trap door.
The sunlight hit her face full blast. Cringing, she adjusted to the natural light and stared at the sight around her.
The main deck was littered with bodies, French and British, along with swords and daggers. Pools of blood were stationed wherever she stepped. British soldiers were stepping over the bodies and examining them, checking for any survivors. The odor of death lingered in the air; Jade decided she had smelled it too many times.
She was led to a small rowboat, where she and the British officers were lowered into the rocking ocean. As the soldiers rowed around the ship, Jade surveyed the scene on the ocean surface in awe. Ships as far as she could see were burning, sinking, and dismantled by cannon balls.
As they rounded the ship, Jade saw to the south a large fleet of ships flying the British flag on their main masts. Celebration noise drifted to her ears from the ships. Not knowing what to expect, she sighed and looked down at her irons as the small boat floated closer to the Royal Navy.
~ ~
Will sat alone in his small compartment, cleaning and polishing the bloodstained swords. Up above on the main deck he heard the soldiers singing and rejoicing at the victory. He himself was not even included in the battle; he was given orders to stay behind on the Dauntless and prepare for the end of battle, which included heating up the fire to weld broken swords. Although he was a bit disappointed that he couldn't fight, he knew he shouldn't be upset that he hadn't risked his life.
He was dipping his cloth into the polishing ointment when a hush fell upon the celebrations above. Curious, he put the cloth down on the small table, stood up, and opened the door, listening hard into the silence.
One of his closest friends aboard, the soldier Eric, rushed down the narrow corridor and stopped when he saw Will. "Will!" he exclaimed in a hushed whisper. "Come on up here, mate, and have a look at this!"
Will closed the door and hurried to follow his friend up a small flight of stairs and to the hatch that led to the main deck. Eric opened it for him and let him climb up the ladder. Will clambered up the ladder and poked his head out, surveying the main deck.
The once-celebrating soldiers now stared quietly at four of their own who had just come aboard, along with a girl who looked in her teens. Will stared unblinkingly at her brown boots to her sandy colored hair that tinkled with beads and trinkets. She was dressed in men's clothes, a baggy white V-cut shirt with a belt around her waist which consisted of two dagger holds and an empty gun pouch. Her pants were a faded navy blue and were stained with mud and what looked like dried blood. Avoiding eye contact with any of the staring soldiers, she followed her escorting officers into the captain's cabin. The door shut smartly behind them, and at once the soldiers buzzed like bees, commentating on the new visitor.
"Who d'you reckon - ?"
"Prisoner?"
"Most likely...she was in irons..."
"But what importance is she to us?"
Will was wondering the same thing...who was the new visitor, and why was he so curious of her? The Navy had taken plenty of people captive, but women, let alone young girls, were rare. Frowning, he hopped down from the ladder to Eric who was grinning expectantly.
"Did you see her?" he asked.
Will nodded. "Yes."
"Not something you see every day, now, is it?" Eric insisted. Agreeing quickly, Will excused himself and trekked back to his room in thought.
Jade observed the main quarters with chary eyes. The inside looked extremely similar to Captain Chouteau's cabin, although the windows were not as unnaturally clean and the room radiated a sort of homey feel. The soldiers led her to a door in the far right corner, fumbled with a jagged key on their round key chain, and unlocked the door with a click. It was a cramped room with a small desk and a single comfortable chintz chair that was occupied by a portly, elderly-looking man with a long white wig that conveyed his social status. Behind the paper-strewed desk sat a younger man who wore a shorter white wig. Both were dressed in the blue Navy colors and staring at Jade.
"Well done, gentlemen," said the man behind the desk. "You've assisted in the capture of a wanted criminal that I plan to punish severely. Thank you, you may leave."
Jade gaped as the soldiers left the room. Here she thought she was as free as a bird, now it seemed she was being tossed back to captivity again.
As soon as the door snapped shut, the man behind the desk immediately dropped his formal disposition and let out a deep breath. Observing Jade with sharp eyes he asked, "You are Jade Sparrow, correct?"
Suspicion written across her face, she answered apprehensively, "Yes..."
The man made a gesture with his hand, as if to wipe away her wariness. "Do not mind my ill ways of lying to my own soldiers. We are not going to confine nor punish you at all. On the contrary, we would like to ask you a few questions."
Because she was now realizing that there would be no penalty against her, the fieriness that was embedded in her skin rose up an octave and she regained her naturally smooth composure. "Well it might be so that I want a few of my own questions answered. Sir," she added mockingly. A smile played across the man's lips. "Ah. Yes. Of course." He leaned back in his chair. "Well, ask away, Miss Pirate."
Gritting her teeth at this ridiculous name, she demanded, "How did you know I was hostage on that French ship? And if I'm such a "wanted criminal," why is it that you sent for me to be brought here when you could've simply blasted the ship to splinters with your lovely artillery?"