Usual disclaimers: If you recognise anything, it belongs to Disney. Anything else is mine.

Thanks as always to my beta, Pendragginink.

Chapter 10 – Rescue

"Are you sure it is safe to go back so soon?" Joshamee worried as Jack climbed over the ship's rail to the waiting boat, held steady by Paul Burrows and Will Bennett in the darkness below.

"She has ter be here!" Jack insisted as he clambered down, having risked returning for he knew The Tarantara would not get back for nearly six weeks and he was determined to claim the reward as well as irritate the magistrate. "We'll jest go an' scout a bit an' see what we can see!" He sat in the boat, looking up at his quartermaster. "Keep sharp," he cautioned, before nodding to his crewmen to start rowing.

"Do you think we'll find her this time?" Will worried, his scarred face frowning. He was unsure of Jack's insistence that the woman had to be near to the mansion, thinking if he were George Willoughby then he would keep her very well hidden.

"From what Allerton told me, he's a bastard who likes t' beat an' rape women," Jack explained. "An' he can't do that if she's stashed miles away from him, can he now?"

Will's scar ticced. He and his twin brother, Ambrose, hated men that hurt women. Their own mother had been murdered, although this was not something they spoke about except to each other. Jack's code towards innocents had been one of the main reasons that they had joined the ship, signing the articles eagerly. From the dark expression on Paul's face, the third pirate clearly felt the same Will could see no harm in going back for another look.

"Aye, we scout," Jack confirmed, hopping from the boat as soon as they beached. The men pulled the boat higher up the shore and followed him along the narrow path that zigzagged up the cliff. Their two lanterns were shuttered, but lit, although the light from the moon was bright enough for them to see by Jack insisted on bringing them in case the sky clouded over and the moonlight failed. He did not want to be caught along the hazardous path in utter darkness.

They padded silently, in single file, along the track, until Jack dropped suddenly to the ground. The others followed, not speaking, not knowing what had spooked their captain. For long moments they waited, ears straining, but nobody came towards them. Then, slowly, cautiously, Jack rose, creeping further along the track until he turned sharply right, leading them off the path and through some thick bushes.

"How the…" Paul gasped when the outline of a small, dilapidated building could be seen.

"Shh!" Jack hissed, pointing along the path where a shielded lantern could still be seen heading back towards the house. "I wonder who he was an' what he was doin' here… eh?" His teeth glinted in the moonlight as he grinned, quietly pulling back the heavy bolt on the door.

88888

Mab looked up fearfully as the door to the summerhouse opened, the chain about her leg pulling tight as she dragged herself back into the shadows, cowering, afraid that for some reason George Willoughby had come back. He had not beaten her for as long as he usually did that evening and she was afraid that he might have returned to hit her some more, although she saw little point in him doing so as she was so weakened by her captivity that she could not even stand. A figure stood briefly in the doorwayoutlined in the moonlight. She could see that it was not George, nor her abductor, but she was still afraid, knowing how vulnerable she was. She tried to back away further, the chain clinking in the darkness: she was forced to stop when the chain was at full extent.

"Bloody hell!" the figure hissed, catching sight of her battered, naked form in the dim light of the waning moon. He crouched down. "You're Mab, I take it?" he enquired, grinning as he saw her nod warily whilst trying to cover herself with her hands.

"Sì… yes…" she croaked, not having had a drink for quite some time. She eyed him cautiously, wondering who he was and why he was there, but fear combined with lessons about silence from George, held her tongue.

"Burrows, come in here," Jack called softly, wanting the light of one of the lanterns to see better, knowing it would be impossible to free her from the shackle in such dim light. "No, wait!" He shrugged his coat from his shoulders, draping it across her body to give her some measure of decency. "All right, come in an' unshutter th' lantern a bit…"

Paul Burrows entered the summerhouse, cautiously unshuttering the lantern, shielding its glow from the doorway. Mab flinched in the light, her eyes unaccustomed to the brightness, although it only gave a small beam. Jack took the lantern from him and turned to have a look at the woman they had come to rescue. "Th' bastard," he muttered, frowning, now able to see more clearly her numerous bruises. She had obviously been recently beaten probably by the man they had seen leaving the summerhouse.

"Who…" Mab began, worrying how he knew her name. She did not recognise him and, dressed as strangely as he was, she was sure she would have remembered him if they had ever met. She thought he looked like a pirate and panicked that George might have sold her to them for she considered no crime beyond him. She wished she could pull away further, but the chain was already at full stretch.

Jack crouched down beside her, reaching for something in the pocket of his coat. "Captain Jack Sparrow, luv," he informed her, smiling as he found the pick and started to fiddle with the lock on the cuff around her ankle, intent on forcing it open. He always figured silence was best, but if it would not open, then he would shoot the chain where it was fastened to the ground and run. Even if he had not been paid to rescue the woman, there was no way he would have left her now that he had seen her, his bubbling anger barely contained.

From the way in which he said his name, she was clearly meant to have heard of him, but she had not. "I… I'm s… sorry, I don't know your name…" she apologised, thinking that if George had truly sold her, then she had better be polite to the man.

"Your father offered me a deal to rescue you," Jack explained, still concentrating on the lock.

"My Papà?" Mab gasped, wriggling a little as his fingers brushed painfully against the seeping scab on her ankle from the iron cuff. "But you look like… a…"

"Pirate?" Jack finished, smiling at her. "That is because I am one."

Mab's eyes went wide and she pulled away, the cuff scraping her ankle, cutting anew into the half-healing scab. "Papà doesn't approve of pirates!"

"Captain!" Will Bennett hissed from outside of the summerhouse. "There's someone coming!"

"Bugger!" Jack cursed, still trying to jimmy the lock. He was having little success and admitted ruefully that, as a magistrate, George Willoughby knew a good lock when he saw one. "Make yourself scarce," he ordered, handing Paul the lantern. "An' shutter that!"

Paul slid out of the summerhouse, pulling the door closed behind him, "Shhh!" Jack warned Mab, kneeling beside her. He noticed her shaking, but was confident that her terror was nothing to do with him, nor his closeness, but all to do with the heavy tread that could now be heard approaching.

"G… George…" she whispered to him, recognising the ponderous footsteps. Other than the name overheard during her captivity in the carriage, she had no idea who her captor was.

"All right," Jack replied quietly, standing and moving to hide beside the door. He drew his dagger, reasoning that if it was the magistrate, he had best be prepared. A swift death was better than the hated man deserved, but he had neither the time nor the wish to scare Mab further with how he would like to treat the man. The light from the approaching lantern illuminated the summerhouse through the dirty windows and he could see how she shook, the rusted cuff of the shackle biting further into her ankle as she desperately tried to hide in the remaining shadows, the metal drawing blood – not for the first time by the brief look that Jack had had of her ankle. "Keep still," he hissed, but she was too terrified even to listen to him. He hugged the darkness by the door, ensuring he could not be seen.

The door opened. George Willoughby frowned for he was sure that he had bolted it behind him. "What are you up to, you little whore?" he demanded, striding angrily into the summerhouse, the light of his lantern brightening the interior of the building as he looked around. Mab squeaked, trying to get further away from him, but she could not. The chain was already at its limit.

Mab's reaction confirmed the man's identity to Jack and he sprang, knocking the large man off balance. He plunged his blade deep into the magistrate's side, angling it up towards the heart, not wanting to give him a chance to cry out and raise the alarm – they could not afford a fight with only three men ashore – even if one of those three was Captain Jack Sparrow.

"What the…" George stuttered, staring in disbelief at Jack as he saw Mab was still chained where he had left her, although her body was concealed by a large sea-coat. Too late he realised that she had been what the crew of the Black Pearl had been searching for and that his own lantern must have led them here. "Spa…" he began, dropping his lantern as he fell, dead before he hit the floor.

Jack looked on in alarm as the lantern shattered on the hard dirt floor, the oil splashing up the wall, immediately igniting. "Bugger!" he cursed, as flames climbed the tattered, dirty curtains at the windows and licked at the ceiling, the rotted laths beginning to smoulder; they did not have much time now, as the burning summerhouse would be a beacon once alight.

"Captain?" Will hissed, poking his head in through the door as Jack crouched beside the dead magistrate, hurriedly searching his body. He grinned as he found some keys, praying that one would fit the cuff around Mab's leg.

"Out!" Jack ordered his man, finding the right key on the third attempt and hauling Mab to her feet. "Come on," he urged, "we have to go!"

Mab weaved alarmingly, crashing against him. "I…" she began.

"Bloody hell, yer can't walk, can ya?" he gasped, understanding for the first time how badly she had been beaten. He took his coat from her, draping it around her shoulders as he struggled to support her, fastening the buttons.

"Not for a while…" she admitted. "It sometimes takes several hours for the dizziness to…"

"We haven't got several hours," he smiled wryly, scooping her up into his arms "In fact, we've hardly got minutes!" He dashed out of the building, knowing the oil-fed flames would soon dry out the roof enough for that to burn too, and that would bring someone to investigate. "Move!" he ordered his men as they unshuttered the lanterns and fled along the path towards the cove.

Mab clung to him, his gait bouncing her in his arms as he ran toward the cliffs. Each jolt was agony for her bruised body, but she tried not to cry out, knowing that he was trying to help her and that they had to get away from the burning summerhouse before the alarm was raised.

"That's going to light up like a bloody beacon!" Will cursed as they scrambled down a particularly steep section of the path.

"I'm well aware of that, thank you Mister Bennett," Jack retorted sourly, glancing back at the building that was, indeed, now well alight.

"Is your ship far?" Mab asked, not even knowing where on the island she was.

"Aye, not too far," Jack assured her, pausing to adjust his grip. Although looking half-starved, she was surprisingly solid and he was glad to see that the final descent to the cove was not too far ahead.

"Do you want me to walk?" she frowned, knowing that she must be heavy for him to carry over such a distance.

"No," Jack replied, shaking his head. "I can go faster carryin' you than you can walk… it's not far, I promise." She nodded, snuggling tighter against him. He was not at all surprised to feel her tears on his chest; he hated men that hurt women.

"Soon have yer safe," he whispered, surprised at how protective of her he felt but reasoning to himself that it was because she had been so ill-treated. More than ever, he cursed the necessity of killing the magistrate quickly for he would have delighted in taking his time, making the man's death as long and as painful as he could.

Mab looked up, sniffing, as they stopped. They had reached a small cove which she could see was clearly too shallow for a ship, but she was relieved to spot a ship's boat pulled up on the sand and, out to sea, she could just make out the outline of a large ship. The two other pirates started pushing the boat towards the water.

"In yer get," Jack urged, handing her off to Will who had climbed into the ship's boat whilst Paul held it steady. Jack climbed in himself, sighing as it dawned on him belatedly that by giving Mab to Will, he would now have to row. He pointedly ignored the amused glance between his men and picked up an oar, matching his stroke to Paul's as the boat made towards the ship, wishing he was not so tired from their flight.

Mab sat quietly on the bench next to Will who held her upright, fearing that she would topple over if not supported. She turned her head and looked up at the Black Pearl as they neared. "She's big!" she exclaimed.

"And fast, thank God," Jack replied, grateful that they had not anchored too far from the shore. It had been a long time since he had rowed any of the boats and his back was starting to protest. "You all right?" he asked Mab.

"I will be," she assured him, reasoning that they were far more decent than the magistrate had been, pirates or not. It made her wonder about her father's vehemence against pirates when these men seemed so kind and he had, apparently, made a deal with this ship.

"Soon be away from this place," he assured her, smiling as he caught her distraction, his teeth flashing gold in the moonlight. She managed a wan smile in return as she leaned against the scar-faced pirate. The smell of his shirt was comforting, salt and sweat, reminding her of her home on board The Tarantara.

"Get th' chair rigged," Paul shouted, well aware Mab would be unable to climb on her own.

"An' get ready ter sail as soon as we're aboard," Jack added urgently.

"We saw flames!" Joshamee called from the deck. "What happened, Captain? I thought you were just scouting?"

"Later, Gibbs! We need to be far away from here quickly!" Jack shouted. "Savvy?"

"Aye, savvy!" the quartermaster sighed, hurrying to get the Black Pearl ready to make sail. He would press Will or Paul for what had happened later for although they had clearly rescued the woman, something had not gone according to plan.

Mab was relieved to see the bosun's chair lowered over the side of the ship and gratefully accepted Will's help getting into it. "Grazie," she smiled, clinging onto the ropes as she was hoisted aboard.

"Careful does it," Jack ordered, climbing alongside her, watching that her grip did not fail. "Ambrose, get her some clothes – breeches an' a shirt'll do fine," he demanded as soon as his feet touched the deck, thinking it was more important to get Mab clothed than to search through the hold for a dress that might – or might not – fit her. Mab glanced at the short pirate as he gauged her height while Jack helped her from the chair and carried her across to his cabin. "And someone fetch Cotton!" he added.

Ambrose dashed off, almost colliding on the stairs with Ned Cotton who was hurrying in the other direction, his macaw clinging to his shoulder protesting at their pace, for he had heard Jack's call from his small cabin below. The blonde pirate hurried to where his taller twin kept his clothes, guessing that they would fit her better than his own, rejecting a number of soiled garments before coming across some that were relatively clean.

Mab looked around the main cabin as Jack sat her down on the table; he moved aside to light a lamp. "I'll have th' ship's doctor look at ya, if that's all right?" he asked.

"Sì," she nodded, her hands gripping the edge of the table as she shakily held herself upright, listening gratefully to the familiar sound of anchors being raised.

"What did that bastard want with you?" Jack puzzled, turning to look at her intently his fists clenching with anger as he saw that the magistrate had not even spared her face he noticed her eyes were brown while studying the still healing bruises that he had not had time to look at before.

"I don't know," she admitted quietly. "He never said… he just hit me…" Her voice trailed to a whisper, the horror of her memories clear in her voice.

"He gave you no reason why he kidnapped yer?" Jack frowned, trying to keep his tone from revealing his anger at her treatment. He looked up as a sharp knock sounded at the doors. "Come," he acknowledged, expecting that it was Ned. The mute pirate brushed the bird from his shoulder, shooing it to the rigging, knowing that Jack would not permit the creature within his cabin.

"I think he had some feud with Papà, but I've never heard his name before," Mab replied softly, looking warily at the grey bearded pirate who peered closely at her face before opening his large leather bag.

"Yer father said somethin' about him being a crooked magistrate whom he'd crossed years ago, but I've never heard anything about that," Jack mused, hoping she might be able to shed more light on the matter.

Mab flinched as Ned applied some salve to the cuts and bruises on her face before miming that he wanted to check the rest of her. "I'm sorry," Mab said to Jack, wincing as the salve stung. "I don't know anythi…" her words trailed off, her eyes round with horror as she understood what the silent man wanted. "No!" she protested, hugging Jack's coat tightly around her.

"It's all right," Jack assured her. "He won't hurt you, he just wants ter check you over…"

Mab shook her head, refusing to unclench her grip on the fabric, her knuckles white. Ned put a placating hand on her shoulder, nodding sympathetically when she flinched at his touch. He left the pot of salve on the table, closed his bag and left the cabin, considering that she would likely not have refused his ministrations if she was more seriously injured.

88888