They sailed on for hours, giving Margaret and Rita plenty of time to rifle through the effects of whoever had owned the boat prior. The two so rarely had luxuries of any kind that even the few gold coins and gems they rounded up were greeted with squeals of delight. It certainly wasn't enough riches to buy them more than a decent meal and room at an inn, but Rita could see why the boy had been so reluctant to let them sail away. Rita had just discovered an ornate spyglass, while Margaret was toying with a small dagger. She extended the trinket as far as it could go and peered through. Nothing but darkness could be seen through the small hole.
"Damn thing doesn't even work," She muttered, tossing it in one of the satchels.
She had gone back to digging through the bags, when Margaret tugged gently on her sleeve.
"I don't think you need a 'scope to see that we're in trouble."
Rita looked up. Sure enough, off the stern there was the unmistakable shape of a ship on their tail. It was too far off to see what colors it was waving, but there was no denying it was coming in their direction.
"Please turn, please turn you stupid hunk of wood," Rita whispered.
"Look, we're not far from Kingshead. If we can make it there, we'll have the protection of Mr. Killington and-"Margaret's suddenly eyes widened as she cut off. "Oh, bloody, scummy, hell."
Rita whipped around to follow her stare. There in front of them, coming around the corner of a set of jagged rocks, was yet another large ship. This one was much closer than the one behind them, but unfortunately also headed right towards them. Rita couldn't believe their bad luck.
"We're trapped!" She blurted out, despite their predicament being fairly obvious.
"We're not," Margaret said firmly. "Worst case scenario, they're headed for each other and we escape the crossfire. If they get close enough to ask questions, we do what we always do. Play the parts."
Rita was not convinced that it was an entirely good plan. For one, often if they ran into anyone on their trips they were seen in an innocent rowboat, and close enough to the shore for a quick escape. Now they were in a stolen vessel, looking very out of place in their fancy gowns, and she was beginning to rethink every move she'd made in the last few hours. The ship behind them was still a mere speck, but the one that lay ahead was getting larger with each passing second. It was impossibly fast for a frigate, and unlike any she'd ever seen. The sails were not the usual cream color, but instead a dark obsidian. Rita was becoming more and more certain that the greater of the two evils was going to reach them first.
"Pirates," Margaret murmured. "Quick, tie everything you can to the underside of your dress."
The two worked swiftly to get as many satchels with as many goods as they could strapped around their legs and to exposed rings on their hoop skirts. Only light things would hold up, though, so much of the jewels remained in sacks on the floor of the boat.
"At least if they rob us, we'll have something to give 'em," Rita said. "Lead 'em off the scent of the goods."
"Well, they better do it quickly, that other ship is catching up," Margaret finished fastening the last of their belongings. The basket was too big to fit under their skirts, but it was disguised innocuously enough to leave in the open.
All that was left to do was wait. Rita and Margaret assumed their positions; two ladies out for a quick sail, parasols and fans poised to perfection. As Rita predicted, the black sailed beast pulled up alongside them first. They were far too close for comfort, but they were granted the mercy of not being torn to shreds by the immense bow. One by one, faces began to appear over the ship's rail, staring down at them as though they were a couple of mermaids. Rita had never seen so many scarred, battered faces in all her life. She'd seen pirates before, of course, but only on land and usually in a tavern with a few drinks to soften them. These men looked like they'd run her through without a second thought.
As they moved past the ship, careful not to hold eye contact with any of the crew, Rita had a sudden burst of hope that they were going to make it past after all. This dream was instantly shattered by a grappling hook that shot into the front of their boat from up above. Another came a second later, puncturing a hole in the bottom but succeeding in latching on.
"Do you, MIND?" Margaret shouted at the faces up above. Their sneers turned to sniggers. Another figure appeared, pushing the others out of the way.
"Back to work, scurvy urchins, I'll be takin' it from here." The man bore a bronze colored beard with flecks of gray starting to weave their way in. He was clearly of higher rank than the others, and certainly better dressed with a feathered hat and navy blue jacket. He looked down at the women with an odd mixture of a scowl and a grin.
"G'morning, ladies. That's a fine looking boat you got there," He said, his voice like gravel.
"Thank-you…" Rita thought it best to go the polite and dainty route, but Margaret had other ideas.
"It was a fine boat, 'til you shot your damn hooks in it! Do we look like fish to you?" She yelled up at the man. He simply laughed.
"Are ye going for a joyride, then? Seems a lot to bring a bag o' gems along with ye," He gestured to the sack that had spilled in the attack.
"Mum always said it was better to keep them by your side than in a vault," Margret shrugged.
"Did she, now."
There was a moment of silence, where the man and Margaret stared each other down. Eventually, he laughed again, clearly amused by her ferocity.
"Well, consider this a good life lesson! I think we'll take those off your hands, so ye know exactly where they be." He pulled out his own pistol and aimed it down at them. He didn't have to, the girls knew enough not to take on an entire pirate crew by themselves.
Rita refilled the bag with the gems and sealed it tightly.
"Here," She shouted up. "I'll throw it to you. And then we'll really have to be on our way."
"Lots of people waiting for us, you see," Margaret added.
It was Rita's turn to give Margaret an angry look. She wasn't thinking, and her simple slip of the tongue could have just cost them everything. It was a second later that she realized her mistake.
"I mean, we just…"
But the damage was done. With a sly smile, the man gave a gesture to a crewman behind him. Rita felt the boat suddenly begin to lift out of the water. It was larger than any dinghy, and yet the massive ship hardly creaked as they were pulled up onto its side.
"Oh, now, it wouldn't be very good manners o' me to leave ye with a damaged boat. Why don't ye come aboard, meet the lads...stay a while.
When their boat had been pulled up far enough, two pairs of large hands reached in and dragged the women up and onto the deck. Once they'd touched down, they bound their hands behind their backs and their captors held them steady. The crew was even more repulsive up close, and each of them had a hungry look in their eye as they edged closer towards Margaret and Rita. The man who had ordered their capture stepped forward.
"Bo'sun," He said aside to a tall scarred man. "Search the boat." With a grunt, he obliged, leaping into their helpless swinging vessel and throwing up the picnic basket and the gems.
"Quite the unusual assortment for a day out," the bearded man said. He kicked open the basket, revealing the fruit. "Mm. Apples. My favorite."
He picked one up. It was an inch from his mouth when Rita knew she couldn't keep quiet.
"You have what you want, let us go!"
"And miss the chance to return to fine young ladies home to their families? I know noblewomen when I see 'em, and I know a hefty ransom deal by the cut of her gown. Take 'em to the brig, gents."
The deck erupted in pleas from Margaret and Rita, and shouts of triumph from the men. Just when doom seemed certain, another voice cut across the chaos.
"Mister Barbossa, what do you think you're doing?"
It was a younger man, though he commanded a similar kind of respect. Rita could tell all at once just from his heavy eyeliner and swagger that he was vain, drunk, and in charge. He emerged fully from what must have been the captain's quarters, and surveyed the situation.
"I close my eyes for two seconds, and suddenly you've gone witch hunting. Are we even in Tortuga yet?" He ambled through the crowd, trying to look down on the crew despite being a head shorter than most.
"Just a few miles out now, Cap'n," Barbossa growled. "And ye've been asleep for four hours now."
"Nothing wrong with taking a nap now and then!" He said unashamedly. "How else do you think I keep this beautiful? You, my friend, could really use a year's worth of sleep…"
In the midst of the conversation, Rita and Margaret had begun attempting to untie one another's bonds. Unfortunately the large one, called Bo'sun, spotted this and smacked Rita.
"Don't you touch her!" Margaret roared, aiming a kick at him.
"Hey, now, what's all this?" The young Captain sauntered forward towards the two women. "What are you doing on me ship?"
"We're taking 'em hostage," Barbossa explained proudly. "I'm sure we'll receive a grand payment from whatever officer or noblemen they belong to. And the pair even came with plenty of gems up front." He and the men cackled again.
"Waste of time! Throw them off. Keep the jewels, and whatever parts you can salvage from the boat," The captain said with an airy wave of his hand. Barbossa's jaw clenched.
"Jack," He said in a low voice. "These men have been followin' ye to the ends of the earth for too long with little pay off. They need to see we're making it worth their while."
"They will be paid ten times the worth of two women once we reach it."
Barbossa leaned in closer and opened his mouth to argue, but before he could the captain plucked the apple from his hands and took a bite.
"Mm, haven't had one of these in ages," He chewed deeply for a moment, then spat it all out on the floor. Cautiously, he approached the basket next to Rita and Margret, and gave a pomegranate a poke with his finger. Chuckling, he rose again to his feet.
"Barbossa, me dearest mate. These girls are worth nothing more than their cargo," He said, cupping the apple in his hands and showing its innards to his friend, whose lips also curled into a smile.
"Smugglers," He said. "Tell me, who exactly is waiting for you and this…product?"
"A man from Kingshead," Margret said cooly. "A cigar dealer."
Without warning, Barbossa grabbed her by the right arm.
"Let go of her, scum!" Rita yelled.
Ignoring her, he pulled down Margaret's sleeve to reveal a small tattoo on her wrist, the image of a clam.
"They're in the union, Jack."
"Ha! An answer to our prayers, after all. Good work, lads. To the brig with 'em," The captain clapped his hands excitedly.
However, their imprisonment was interrupted yet again.
"Captain!" Came a voice from the upper deck. A crewman waving a spyglass came rushing to the edge of the railing. "There's a ship coming in off the port side! It's set a course to meet us."
"Friend or foe?" The captain asked.
"It hoists the Jolly Roger, sir."
The captain looked at Barbossa.
"Could be either, really," He muttered. "Drop anchor, we'll let them come to us. In the meantime, we need to turn around and set course for Devil's Anvil."
"Aye," Barbossa nodded and headed off towards the upper deck. "Raise the low sails, men, we're coming about! Prepare to be boarded!"
Again, Margaret and Rita were roughly led in the direction of the brig, but the Captain approached them more formerly. He had a strangely kind look for someone so keen on locking them up, Rita thought, but then again one could be gentle and wicked.
"Name's Captain Jack Sparrow," He said, tipping his hat. Rita saw Margaret's eyes light up at the name, but she kept her mouth shut. "You've met my first mate, Hector. Your presence aboard my ship is greatly appreciated."
"And why is that?" Rita asked. "Two seconds ago you damn nearly threw us overboard."
"All in good time, darling. Right now I've got more pressing company to deal with, so, off you pop. Koehler? Twigg? If you please."
The cells below were damp and nowhere near as well kept as the rest of the ship. Not that Rita was expecting to be held in comfort. The minute the steps of the men returning to the deck faded, she began desperately searching for a weakness in the structure.
"There must be a softness in some part of the metal from all the water damage," She said.
"I'm curious," Margaret said, sitting down in the corner. "What exactly are you planning on doing once you break out of the cell? Kill every pirate yourself?"
"Got a better plan?"
"Yes. Wait."
Rita let out an exasperated sigh.
"We don't have time for waiting, if we're not at Kingshead at sundown, we'll have Kilington's men after us!" She spat.
"That's hardly a problem right now, seeing as we're prisoners!"
Margaret had a point. As usual. They sat in silence for what felt like ages, hearing the clamor of the crew and the new arrivals up above. Rita had just started thinking that maybe they could snag a rescue from the ship that was now boarding, if she screamed loud enough, when the voices and footsteps suddenly got louder and clearer.
"We found your boat there floating among those rocks there," They heard Captain Jack say. "Thought we'd pick it up, see what was inside. Nothing but this basket of fruit. If it's yours, I'm happy to return it. Only took one apple."
"Nothing else?" came a raspy, piercing voice. It was the voice of a woman. "Boy, come here."
More footsteps.
"You said it was two women?"
"Yes, Captain. Dressed in nice clothes…with guns."
Margaret and Rita exchanged a terrified look at sound of the familiar voice. The ship had been hunting them after all.
"I'm sure I would've remembered that! Would you, lads?' Jack laughed. "Still, can't 'ave gone far. Sure you don't want the fruit? Or the, er, boat?"
"There was something in that boat more precious than any of the rubies and maps it sailed with. And those girls took it from me," The cold voice wheezed. "Out of respect for what you've done for the pirate community, Captain Sparrow, we will leave here in peace. Still, someone ought to pay."
The sound of a sword being drawn. The grunt of the boy. The spatter of blood, and his fall to the floor.
"If you hear anything, Sparrow," The cold Captain said.
"Aye. I know where to find you. Sorry I couldn't be of more…assistance."
It wasn't until they heard the last footsteps retreat above them, and Barbossa give the order to weigh anchor, that Margret and Rita allowed themselves to breathe once more.
"Why the hell didn't he turn us in?" Rita whispered.
"I think we're about to find out."
They listened quietly as the hatch creaked open, and a pair of footsteps descended to decide their fate.