6- An ordinary training bout
"Watch yer footwork!" Jack yelled at me as he attacked me with his sword. I raised my blade in order to parry but his stroke was too heavy and my hands too sweaty, so my sword fell to the deck with a rattling sound.
"Damned! And don't drop yer sword!" The tip of his blade was at my throat, tickling me. "Ye know, it's pretty useless on the planks. D'ye have any idea just how many times I could've killed ye within the past few minutes?"
"No, but I'm damned sure ye kept an account of me failures and can't wait to rub me nose in them." I snapped frustrated.
Ever since I had been able to get up and stand on my own two feet again, Jack had pestered me with endless training bouts. First it had been a welcome change after lying in bed, recovering, and some exercise had definitely been needed, but lately he had become almost obsessive to give me a good beating since that was how it usually ended. Though we practised with blunt weapons, my body was covered with bruises in every shade ranging from deep purple to a yellowish green. I wondered why he had made such an effort to save my life only to beat me black and blue afterwards. And what was worse, the crew already pitied me... Bootstrap Bill Turner who was so clumsy he'd stumble over his own bootstraps… that was so embarrassing. Would I ever be able to prove I was worth my salt?
"Stop pouting and pick up yer blade; I'm not done with ye yet." Jack snarled mercilessly. He was every inch the rough pirate captain now and not at all like the young lad longing for affection who had fallen asleep in my arms a while ago, shaken after revealing the traumatizing events of his childhood; perhaps for the first time ever.
"Capt'n, give 'im a break," Blake interfered to my embarrassment- I didn't want pity; that was humiliating.
"I'm alright, Mr Blake."
They chose to ignore me. "Tell me, Captain Sparrow, how long have ye been trainin' to become the excellent swordfighter ye're now?"
You could see that Jack was flattered as he ruffled himself up proud like a peacock; he definitely loved being praised for his skills. "More than ten years."
"Ah, but ye expect Bootstrap to be able to beat ye in less than a fortnight?"
"'Course not. I know he can't beat me, I just…" Jack's hands were up in the air, fluttering uncertainly as if looking for words he didn't want to utter anyway because he wasn't at ease with exposing his feelings. "I just want to make sure this daft idiot will be able to protect himself when he chooses to run headfirst into another folly that may cost his life, and there won't always be a doctor at hand that I can ab… um, persuade to offer assistance. Savvy?"
"Aye, Captain," Blake put a placatory hand on Jack's shoulder, "But ye do recognize that his folly probably saved yer life."
"That isn't very likely. I can damned well take care of me own self." Jack shrugged off the other pirate's hand. "Back to yer station now and mind yer own business."
There had been rumours going on about Jack and me ever since I had been injured; rumours incited by Peg-leg Pat, assuming we were lovers- for whatever reasons- but Jonathan Blake was one of the few aboard who actually seemed to understand the true nature of our bond. Yes, I did love Jack. I loved him like a little brother and just like every little brother he occasionally got on my nerves tremendously.
"Ready for another lesson?" He asked me with a sly half smile and attacked me as soon as I had picked up my sword again.
I would never become a good swordfighter. I still remembered my first kill, and that hadn't been a pleasant experience. Maybe I was too soft for that sport, too soft to ever become a proper pirate. I probably lacked that killing gene that seemed to be essential for pirates but I definitely had the urge to defend myself. I blocked Jack's stroke like he had told me. He ran his blade along mine with a screeching sound as he pushed me backwards up the stairs that led to the afterdeck. I was busy with watching my steps and keeping him at distance, and he took advantage of it. Suddenly he caught my sword with his own and pulled me towards him, grinning like a shark, only to trip me that I stumbled against the stairs. I cursed him- of course I knew he never fought fair but now he'd really gone too far. I got angry. There are times when little brothers deserved a good beating. Instinctively I rammed out my leg while falling and kicked him really hard. Jack fell down the stairs and landed flat on his back on the planks of the main deck. He didn't move, which worried me, but when I approached him, bending over him to see how he was doing, this bloody little bastard had the nerve to try and raise his blade at my throat, never giving up, always having to have the last word. Not now however. I grabbed his arm and twisted it painfully so that he had to drop his sword with a yelp. I swear I would have knocked him out if he hadn't surrendered.
"Bugger! I wouldn't have stopped the doc from sawing off yer leg if I'd known ye'd use it against me," he moaned.
I let go of him, still cautious. From a very far distance I noticed that the crew was cheering and I wondered whether that was a good or a bad sign. After all, I had just disgraced their captain. I heard a few gloating remarks but most of the pirates simply seemed to have enjoyed a bout that didn't end up as usual.
"Sorry for kickin' ye but ye disregarded the rules of engagement first," I accused Jack quietly.
He snorted amused before sitting up, crossing his legs and smirking broadly at me. "No need to be sorry, mate. Actually, it was a good move."
"It wasn't fair…"
"Aye, but that's the point. To not fight fair if fighting fair is likely to get ye killed, savvy? 'Cause in the end the only thing that matters is what a man can do and what he can't do. For example, you will never become a good swordfighter according to the rules of engagement so ye have to break them if ye wanna stay alive- and I daresay that surviving is a damned good reason to justify a li'le bit of tricking and cheating."
"So the end justifies the means?"
"Most definitely. After all, ye've got a family to care for… I can't lock ye in the brig ev'ry time ye chose to disobey me orders just to do something stupidly heroic. So keep in mind to not fight fair." Jack got to his feet and flashed me a smile. "Ye almost beat me, mate."
"Almost?" I gasped unbelievingly.
"Um… Capt'n, Bootstrap did beat ye." Blake emphasised, defending me. "Ye said he can't beat ye but…"
"See, I said he can't beat me therefore he didn't."
I didn't get his logic. "I really should've knocked ye out- perhaps then ye would've considered yerself beaten."
"Ah, but ye couldn't beat me in an honest unfair swordfight so I'm still right."
I growled frustrated. Blake shot me a look saying I don't mind if you knock him out now. Mind, Jonathan Blake was an absolutely loyal man who never would have though of mutiny or anything like that, he adored his captain for being a skilled navigator and careful leader but he was also of the opinion that Jack needed to be rebuked from time to time because he was too full of himself. And he was right with that.
I grabbed Jack and gave him a good shaking. "Damned, it won't hurt ye to admit that I managed to beat ye."
"Well, ye did indeed manage to get me in a position which might have occurred to ye as a hopeless one but actually it wasn't. I let ye win because I didn't wanna hurt ye."
"How kind," I sneered, inwardly counting the bruises on my body and comparing them with Jack's. We had taken off our shirts before the bout so it was quite obvious who looked more beaten. He hadn't been as careful as he was trying to imply.
Jack patted my shoulder. "Now, dear William, would ye please be so good and give orders to change tack. I had almost forgotten that there's business waiting for us in Nassau port."
"Give orders?" I repeated, knowing I sounded stupid.
"Aye, all the stuff with the sails and so on. I'm at the helm."
I was more than just mildly confused because that should have been the job of the first mate and therefore Peg-leg Pat's task. Only now I realized I had hardly seen him on deck lately and when, he had seemed to be a little subdued. What was going on here?
"Bootstrap?" Blake's voice was interrupting my thoughts and he looked at me expectantly, so I gave the orders Jack had asked me to. I was a bit surprised about myself that I found it quite easy to call up the correct order of things to be done for changing our course and yet I breathed a sigh of relief when it actually worked out. Immediately I hurried up the stairs to the afterdeck.
"Well done." Jack nodded approvingly, but I wasn't here for praises.
"What're ye up to, Jack?" I demanded to know.
"We're sailing to Nassau port and thanks to ye we're on the right course now."
"Aye, I got that- but why?"
Jack sighed impatiently. "'Cause we've got business waitin' for us there. Remember Doc Abernathy who did such a brilliant job in stitching up yer leg so that ye could ram it into me? I told ye he's the future personal physician of the Governor of Nassau and since I'm sure the Governor of Nassau would like to have such a skilled man to be his personal physician I guess he's willing to pay a nice sum to get him."
For a moment I forgot why I had came up here in the first place. I had only seen Abernathy a couple of times while I was still literally bound to the bed, recovering, but when I thought about it he had always looked as if he was feeling ill at ease as soon as Jack was around, almost scared. I stared at him in disbelief. "Ye told me ye persuaded him to join yer crew and now ye're saying ye kept him for ransom."
"I kept him to keep ye alive but since it's obvious ye're safe and sound I see no reason why not make profit…"
"But he saved my life!" I protested .
"Aye, and I'm mightily grateful for that but that's got nothing to do with why not asking for ransom, savvy? After all, we're not making him pay but Governor Henley. If he decides Abernathy's not worth the ransom we'll keep the doc. Or d'ye want me to keep the doc anyway?" Jack looked at me as if seriously considering this option. "I remember ye wanted to study medicine, he could become yer teacher."
"Jack, he's a human being…"
"I noticed. Bleeds when he gets cut."
I didn't want to know what Jack had done to persuade Doctor Abernathy to save my life; it didn't matter. The end justifies the means and to be honest I was still moved that Jack cared so much about me. However, we were talking about the future of a man.
"Where is he now?"
"In the brig." Jack said with a shrug. "Why?"
"Ye locked him in the brig although he'd saved my life?"
"Would ye prefer I locked him in the brig because he'd saved yer life?"
I growled frustrated. Jack could be such an ass sometimes and I was absolutely not in the mood for his sick jokes now. "I'd prefer ye let him go free. Now. Listen, I don't mind seizing merchant vessels and plundering them; I don't mind if ye return Abernathy for a ransom, but ye will not lock him in the brig like a man who had done wrong when his only crime was to save my life as ye had told him to."
I didn't know whether he understood what I was about but he handed me the key of the brig nevertheless. Ignoring the hurt look in his eyes I turned my back on him and went to release Doctor Abernathy.
My conscience was clearer then but I still hadn't found out why Jack had made me give orders to the crew. I was merely a hand before the mast like everyone else and not the first mate. Well, he had mentioned that the Pearl wanted me to be her first mate but I figured that the crew would have their say in it too. Perhaps their opinion counted more than the inaudible voice of a ship so I seriously doubted they would choose an inexperienced man just because he was a friend of the captain- or worse, the captain's pet as Peg-leg Pat had hissed at me a couple of days ago. I didn't know what had happened between him and Jack. Peg had never liked Jack but most of the time he had perfectly managed to disguise his dislike until recently. Now his aversion was almost visibly up in the air as if it was something solid. Fortunately it was not to be feared he'd incite a mutiny since Peg-leg Pat would leave us voluntarily in Nassau, retiring from his pirate's life. Someone had told me the old salt had hoarded a small fortune and wanted to open a tavern in Nassau. Well, most certainly I won't shed any tear over him when he was gone.
I stumbled over Jack after I had taken Abernathy to the galley to boil him tea- I didn't want him to believe I was taking his efforts in saving my leg and my life for granted when I was actually damned happy about the way things had turned out. I was grateful and so was he although he didn't seem to mind whether he had stayed in the brig or not. All he wanted was to not be around Jack, but the reason why I only found out years later… apparently Jack had threatened to cut him into pieces, castrate him, skin him alive and whatever else, and feed every bit of him to the sharks if I won't stay alive which included me being whole, in one piece…
However, that I found out many years later but at the moment I was still consumed with wondering why Jack was acting the way he did. Not a good question, I know, given that Captain Jack Sparrow had always been a man hard to predict.
"Bill!" He said cheerfully as he grabbed my arm and dragged me along towards his cabin, but before he opened the door he pointed his head in the direction of another, smaller cabin. "That'll be yours as soon as Peg's gone."
I didn't want any privileged treatment just because my captain seemed to like me, so I said I didn't mind sleeping with the crew. Of course he got that wrong, deliberately, and cracked an ambiguous joke to which I dumbly replied that it wasn't below me to sleep in the crew's quarters although I had gotten what he was teasing me with.
Jack wiped my doubts away with a casual, impatient movement of hands and offered me to join him for a sip of rum. Well, I liked rum and I had developed a taste for it- at least for good rum. Like wine there where worlds between a good drop and a bad, but Jack seemed to always have a bottle of the finest Caribbean rum at hand.
Nevertheless I looked at him sternly. "Stop distracting me. Tell me what's in that devious mind o' yers. Why did ye give me orders…"
"… to delegate me orders?" Jack finished my sentence, smiling slyly. "Well, that's because ye're the first mate of the Pearl and being first mate means it's yer bloody job to see to it that me orders are being followed, savvy?"
I stared at him in disbelief because that was just ridiculous. I couldn't be the first mate of a pirate vessel since I wasn't even a good sailor, I had just learned a bit about navigation, and I would never become a proper pirate because I simply was too soft. Too soft to kill- damned, it had turned my insides upside down when running through the guy that had threatened Jack, and though I didn't regret it there was still a stale taste in my mouth.
"I'm hardly the right man for this job."
"Ye are," Jack begged to differ, "the crew's rooting for ye, mate. Ye're very popular with them for being just the way ye are. Straightforward, honest, caring… not the abilities a pirate really needs but they appreciate the way ye always try to mediate and settle any quarrels aboard. Ye know the name of Blake's wife, how many kids Matthews has, the birthday of my favourite whore… well, probably not that…"
"Are ye just trying to butter me up when in fact ye merely want to fob me off with a position, a cabin, and rum to make me forget that ye locked Doctor Abernathy in the brig for no reason?"
"See, that's exactly what I mean- ye're a just man. Ye've got many hidden talents, dear Bill… but ye didn't beat me today, savvy?"
"Blast! Drink yer bloody rum alone!" I slammed my glass on the table and got up. Jack blanched. Apparently he hadn't expected I'd ever walk out on him so he jumped up with a start and launched himself at me to stop me with the result that we both ended up on the floor. I prayed no one would come to see the captain now since we were in a position that would only feed the assumptions of those who called me the captain's pet. We unravelled the mess of entwined limbs in combination with the remains of a broken chair, when Jack suddenly said, "Alright, ye've won."
It took me a moment to get what he wanted to tell me and came up with the conclusion that he had almost admitted I had beaten him in our earlier bout if only he had sounded more convincing. "Yet ye still don't believe I did."
"Um," he shot me one of his cheeky half-smiles, "actually…no. Will ye stay for a glass o' rum anyway?"
"Ye bloody, boasting, arrogant bastard." I hissed quietly. I wanted to walk out and slam the door behind me but then I considered it again. It would be wrong. There had been already too many doors being literally slammed in Jack's face, beginning with being an unwanted, unloved kid, shoved around and probably beaten many times. Then he'd lived as a street urchin in the gutters of Tortuga, fighting for a living and to gain respect. He had signed on a pirate ship at the age of thirteen, joined Morgan on his raid of Panama when he was about fifteen, faced cruelty- his whole life had been dominated by surviving in a hostile world without friends. No wonder he was selfish. When no one cares about you, you either become very egoistic, only caring about yerself to stay alive, or you go down. It was as simple as that and boasting was just another way to appear strong, never showing any weakness. Thinking about that it was a wonder he had managed to stay relatively sane and hadn't lost his humour, his wits, or his good heart. And Jack did have a good heart. There merely had never been anyone encouraging him to make use of it, how to treat other people without offending them.
I didn't want to stress the topic about which of us had actually won our practice bout- since that didn't really matter- but I wanted to let him know why I was so pissed off with him.
"Alright, I'll stay if ye hear me out, savvy?"
Jack nodded. Of course he couldn't bring himself to listen without throwing in some mocking remarks; nevertheless he did listen closely when I talked about my feelings. It wasn't my intention to rebuke him, I merely wanted him to understand what I didn't like about his behaviour towards Abernathy or his defiant ignorance that I had indeed beaten him in an unfair fight against all the rules of engagement. And he understood. Mayhap it was too much to ask for that he would openly admit that, but sometimes there was more in what Jack didn't say than in all the things his silver tongue uttered. He had a knack with words; he could lie straight to your face without blushing or even batting an eye, and yet his eyes told the truth. His damned eyes- one look at them had been enough to take the wind out of my sails since it was absolutely not possible to stay angry with him when these dark brown orbs directed at you reflected hurt, the fear of being rejected and abandoned. Of course he wouldn't admit that either as well as I would never admit just how much he could make my heart melt. In the end he agreed I had been right about Abernathy given that he treasured freedom more than anything else which led to an ardent speech against slavery. His arguments were well-considered, unusual and daring for the times we lived in, and they proved once again how bright he really was. Nevertheless he was quite stubborn when it came to give in to the fact that I had managed to beat him in our latest training bout.
"Aye, I could say ye've won without that sounding like a lie but if I'd do that and admit ye actually managed to beat me ye'd probably become reckless and believe ye're good in fighting when in fact ye were just lucky…"
I cut him short. "Jack, are ye trying to tell me ye'd admit that I'd won if ye weren't fearing for me?"
He stared at me for a moment and shook his head before nodding slightly. "Ye don't make any sense, William Turner."
7
