Chapter Eleven ~*~

The crew roared their approval of Barbossa's toast, and after tossing back their grog, someone called for a song. Somewhere among the crew, a bawdy drinking song got started, and it began to weave its way across the deck.

Not really feeling like I needed to participate in the verse about the poor governor's daughter, I managed to move out of the group a little, and looked out over the railing, watching the new moon. I was recalling the last night I'd been on the deck of the Essex, and found it hard to believe that it had been a week and a half ago. It seemed like a lifetime.

I was lost in my thoughts, when someone joined me, leaning on the rail next to me. Looking to my right, I was surprised to see that Michael Bellamy had followed.

"Do you mind?" Bellamy asked me, as he came to stand next to me.

"No, of course not," I said, giving him a smile. "I appreciate the company."

"I figure it must be hard for you," Bellamy mused, staring over the dark waves while he spoke.

"What would?" I asked.

"Being stuck with a bunch of pirates...being kidnapped...locked up...among other things..."

He broke off and glanced sideways across the deck at Barbossa, and although he didn't say it, I knew what he was thinking. He, like the rest of the crew, was still under the assumption that Barbossa had been less than a gentleman with me that first night.

"He didn't hurt you, did he?" Bellamy blurted out softly.

I was surprised at the concern in his voice. "Really, I'm fine...he..."

"It's not right, treating a lady like that," Bellamy continued, seeming irritated.

"Michael," I said, using his given name, "I appreciate your concern, but I hate to have you thinking worse of your captain than he deserves."

He opened his mouth to protest, but I cut him off. "If I tell you something, will you keep it to yourself?"

He frowned but promised. "Aye, I'd keep anything you ask me quiet," he replied, unsure where I was going with things.

"Michael, Barbossa never laid a finger on me that night," I explained.

"He didn't?" Bellamy seemed confused. "But the whole crew thought..."

The light suddenly went on, and his opinion of Barbossa went back up considerably, I'd venture to say. "That sly old dog!" he whispered, starting to grin. "He had half the crew feeling sorry for you."

I smiled at him again, and looked back over the waves. "And what about the other half?"

He looked a bit embarrassed. "Well, lets just say they wouldn't have minded being in his boots."

"Lovely," I said, not really meaning it.

"Well," Bellamy said, sounding very relieved, "that's grand. I was really worried that..." He stopped short, looking a bit embarrassed again.

Neither of us had a chance to say anything else as the crew was suddenly calling for him.

"Bellamy!"

"Aye, Bellamy, give us a tune!"

"The lads want me to sing," he said, smiling sheepishly.

"Oh, well, I'd love to hear you sing, Michael," I said in earnest.

Bellamy smiled, and looking pleased at what I'd said, jogged back to the waiting crew as they cheered.

"Give us that Irish tune, Bellamy!"

"Nay, the ballad about the ghost ship! Sing us that one!"

"Nay, sing somethin' fer May," someone teased. "Sing her that Italian song you know!"

Bellamy laughed at all the requests. "Alright, shall I sing for May?" he asked the crew, and they all agreed.

I was surprised that the pirate crew would request such a song after the rowdy drinking tune they'd just finished, but when I heard Bellamy begin the sweet sad melody in Italian, his fine strong tenor held everyone captive as he sang. To this day I'm not sure that I have ever heard a more wonderful performance.

I went to stand a little closer to the crew to listen as he sang, and leaned over to speak to young Hickmott. "What is this song?" I whispered.

He leaned toward me and whispered back. "I don't understand the words, but Bellamy has sung it before, and it's one the crew always asks him to sing."

"What's it about?" I whispered.

"It's a love song," Hickmott replied in a whisper again.

I don't speak Italian, and for all I knew, Bellamy could have been singing about plucking chickens, but the way he sang the haunting melody, his beautiful voice would have held me enthralled regardless.

No one spoke during the song, and at one point I remembered glancing across the gathering of pirates, amazed that they appeared as spellbound as I was while Bellamy sang.

Curious at that moment as to whether the captain had remained on deck, I glanced in the direction I'd last seen him, and was startled to find that he was already looking at me from where he stood.

I got the impression that he'd been watching me watch Bellamy sing, and seemed a bit put out. I broke eye contact, returning to watching Bellamy, and realized that Barbossa appeared to dislike not being the center of attention.

When the song was over, the crew let out a thunderous cheer, and Bellamy took a bow and stepped out from center stage. It was only another minute before another rowdy drinking song was underway with the crew.

Bellamy strode over to where I was standing with young Hickmott.

"That was amazing!" I said enthusiastically. "I've never heard a finer voice, Michael."

"Really?" he asked, sounding quite please at my comments.

I nodded. "Truly. The song was absolutely lovely. What's it about?"

"It's a rather sad love song," he explained. "It's about a sailor of course, which is why the lads like it."

I looked at him expectantly for more of an explanation.

"Well, the song is about a sailor who meets a beautiful girl," he continued, a bit quieter. "It tells about how he longs to tell her that he desires her, but because the worlds they both know are so different, he realizes that they must remain apart. The end of the song tells of how even though they only ever share but one night before he leaves her again, never to return in this life, they are fated to love each other forever."

"That's what you just sang?" I asked. "I can hardly believe that beautiful song tells such a sad story."

"Aye," Bellamy said, looking at me in a way I couldn't quite fathom, "it would be a sad tale if it were true."

A rowdy chorus of 'yo ho, yo ho' interrupted our conversation. I decided that it was late, and that I'd probably be better off below deck in my cabin as the drinking was now getting a bit out of hand. I bid Bellamy and Hickmott good night, and retired to my closet for the rest of the evening.

~~o~~

During the day, viewed from the deck of the Rogue, Tortuga looked innocent enough, but looks, I had been well warned, could be deceiving.

I found it extremely frustrating when the ship dropped anchor and the crew, having already made provision for dividing the swag and setting watches on the ship, began to load the boats and unload the Rogue's holds, heading for shore without me. The maddening thing was that I was stuck on the ship, with shore only been a few hundred yards away.

Harlow checked with me to make sure that there wasn't anything else I wanted added to the list, and I made one last attempt at getting time off the ship.

"If it's easier, I could just do it myself," I said. "That way if there's anything else I think of..."

Harlow gave me a look that told me I should quit while I was ahead. "We'll be here for a few days, so if you think of anything else you can tell me."

I nodded reluctantly, and watched the next group of pirates leave with their treasure. Not that I wanted anything to do with their money or spending it, I just wanted to set my feet back on solid ground for a short time.

The only other person who might have been unhappier about being stuck on the ship while everyone else took turns in town, was probably Turk. While he was getting stronger every day, and both wounds were healing up nicely, he still wasn't at the point where I thought he could handle shore leave of any type.

He'd begged, pleaded, yelled and threatened, but I stood fast in my conviction that he needed more rest before he went out after women and drink, and Barbossa backed me up, much to Turk's dismay.

While I stood at the rail, watching the last of the crew who were going ashore that time cross the short distance from the Rogue to the docks, Turk turned up on deck and came to stand next to me.

"Tis a bloody shame," he said, playing on my sympathies again, " to be pulled back from the brink of death itself, only to be stuck on this friggin' bucket without a drop of rum or a decent pair of tits in sight."

I shot him the dirtiest look I could manage, and he laughed.

"Present company excluded," he amended, after a glance at my chest.

I shot him another dirty look. "Don't even start with me, Turk. You're not going to jeopardize your health or recovery after everything I've been through on this bucket," I snapped. "You're just going to have to face the fact that you're not going."

"I see facin' that fact has put you in a fine mood this morning," Turk snapped back. He thought about it for a minute. "What about if I have a word with Barbossa? Make him see he really should let yeh off fer a bit? Would you do the same fer me?"

"No, my decision is medically based and not subject to bargaining," I said grumpily.

"Shit!" he exclaimed. "Dammit, woman, yer keepin' me held prisoner here!"

I gave him his third dirty look of the morning. "Welcome to the club."

He glared at me for a minute, and finally conceded that I had a valid point. "Alright, fine. I know yer jus' lookin' out fer me."

"That's right," I answered, still grouchy, "the same way Barbossa is supposedly looking out for me."

Turk gave me a questioning look.

"He won't let me off the ship because he won't inconvenience crew to keep an eye on me, and he says Tortuga is too dangerous for me otherwise," I complained.

"He's right, darlin'," Turk replied. "Things can get a bit rough there on a good night, and Tortuga is really no place a respectable lady like yerself should be alone."

"I understand that, Turk," I said, more disappointment than irritation in my voice, "but I really just wanted to get solid ground under my feet. I'm a doctor, not a pirate, and none of this was my idea in the first place."

I suddenly found that I was fighting back tears, and I looked away, not wanting Turk to see any weakness from me.

"Aye, well, that may be, but it was a lucky thing fer me that you ended up on the Rogue, May," he said, placing his hand on my shoulder. "I don't know if I've thanked yeh properly, but I'll be indebted to yeh fer a good long while fer what you did."

I tried to smile at him and tell him I was just glad he was better, but I didn't trust my voice at that point and said nothing, and I know he could tell I was trying not to cry.

He gave my shoulder a pat. "It's alright, darlin'. Yeh've had a rough go of things lately."

I still couldn't say anything, but I appreciated the effort he was making.

"From what I hear yer a pretty tough nut, though. Even Barbossa said so," Turk said, obviously trying to say something to make me feel better.

I said nothing for a minute, and then glanced at him. "Barbossa said that?" I asked.

"Aye. He said yeh handled yerself better'n a lot of men would if they'd been taken hostage. Said it jus before yeh walked in on us yesterday."

I didn't have a chance to discuss the matter further, for at that moment Bellamy appeared on deck, and I have to admit I was surprised to see him. Evidently he'd drawn first watch duty aboard the ship, and he spotted me talking to Turk and came to join us.

"Good mornin'," he said cheerfully, and then grew concerned as he saw the strained look on my face. "What's wrong, May?"

I shook my head and would have told him I was fine, but Turk spoke before I had a chance.

"We're wallowin' in our misery together, Bellamy," he said jovially. "Neither of us is goin' ashore this trip, it looks like."

"Why?" Bellamy asked, still looking at me in a concerned way.

"Well, Doc, here thinks I'm not well enough yet," Turk explained.

"You're not," I insisted, and he rolled his eyes at me.

"And Barbossa wants May to stay on board," Turk finished.

"Why? She deserves to go ashore as much as anyone does," Bellamy said, defending my cause.

Turk explained that Barbossa didn't want me going alone, and wouldn't put any of the crew out to keep an eye one me.

"Well, if May wants to get off the ship for a bit tomorrow," Bellamy replied, " she could go with me and Waters. We'd keep an eye on her."

I started to look hopeful again, and Turk, feeling bad for me, said he'd have word with Barbossa on my behalf. "I'm not promisin' anything. If the captain still says no, then it's no, and that's that."

I nodded in agreement and Turk walked slowly off. He was more tired than he'd admit from being up and about, and was probably realizing that I'd been right all along about him needing more rest.

Bellamy started to walk away aft and indicated that I should come with him so we could keep talking. "Don't worry, May, if anyone on board has any pull with Barbossa, it's Turk. I'd be willin' to bet that he'll get you off this ship for a bit."

"Well, if he does, it's thanks to you," I said as we walked. He halted in front of the last mast, which he explained to me was the mizzen. "What are you doing?" I asked, watching him handling some of the ropes.

"Hoistin' our colors," Bellamy answered. "Cap'n likes to have his colors flying when we're in Tortuga so no one makes any mistake about whose ship this is."

"Do all pirates do that?" I asked, watching as he began tying the Jolly Roger to the ropes.

"Nah, but the Pirate Lords usually do." Bellamy started to haul one of the ropes, pulling the black flag open from the folded bundle he'd been working with.

"Each pirate ship has it's own unique flag that identifies it as a pirate vessel and identifies the captain who sails her. This is Barbossa's," he explained, as the flag continued to unfurl, and the grinning skull and crossed swords came into view.

I watched as the banner rose and began to billow out over our heads, and then Bellamy laughed.

"Here, you do it," he said, making as if to hand me the ropes. "How many other doctors you know can claim to have hoisted the Jolly Roger?" he asked, grinning at me. "Go on."

I took the ropes and gave one a pull, and the flag dropped a few feet back toward us.

"No, this one. Like this," he said, placing his hand over mine on the correct line. "Pull."

I did as I was instructed, and Bellamy and I hoisted the colors together, laughing as we did so. I watched him tie off the line, and gazed overhead to watch the Jolly Roger snapping smartly in the breeze.

"See that," he said, following my gaze to where the skull and twin swords loomed over our heads, "we'll make a pirate wench out of you yet."

"I highly doubt that," I said, laughing at his comment. I looked back up the mast. "So, everyone in Tortuga now knows he's here?" I asked, suspecting that this was another means of Barbossa showing off.

"Yes," Bellamy answered, "Barbossa is Pirate Lord of the Caspian Sea, and he has no trouble reminding anyone of that fact. It makes sense to raise the colors, though. Not all of the Pirate Lords get along, and it's nice to know who's in port with you."

I spent the next hour following Bellamy around, and he instructed me in the finer details of how the ship was rigged, what made her a frigate, how the steering worked and other details of her operation. While to this day I only remember a handful of all the things he taught me, he obviously enjoyed giving the lesson, and I enjoyed his company as I struggled with trying to name all the sails again.

Finally I left him to go and check on Turk, and found that all was well with him other than the fact that he was snoring very loudly.

A/N: The scene where Michael Bellamy sings in Italian comes from me having too much caffeine while writing, after walking into my mom's house where she had Josh Groban playing.

While there is some debate among fans over just when Barbossa becomes a Pirate Lord, I disregard the notion that it happens while he's cursed, and maintain that it happened not long before this story. Hence part of his desire to show off.

While I've been having fun playing with Turk and Bellamy this chapter, I promise there's more Barbossa next one!