A Kettle of Hawks

Disclaimer: Recognizable characters belong to the Mouse, the others are mine. Strictly for pleasure, no profit is being made or dreamt of. Mistakes are mine.

Rating: PG 13

Note: Time frame is essentially early 18th Century. Aside from the obvious, place names are fictitious. The naval details are mostly based from historic records or descriptions and are interpreted to suit the story. All going well, the story should remain true to its time and place, at least as much as the author's imagination is able to oblige.

Chapter Eleven. Thunderheads.

The morning of their departure came all too quickly for the Commodore. He was still tired this morning but did not have the luxury to indulge in wishful longing to remain abed. Once the last dispatches were dealt with, he would have to go along to the Governor's mansion to finalize matters with Weatherby Swann. At least the Governor had an excellent cook and Swan was habitually the good host and was quite fond of his once almost son-in-law on a personal level; the older man's sly, pointed humour was an added bonus.

Norrington dealt with his early paperwork with quick efficiency and then washed and shaved carefully. The sharp edge of the straight razor demanded he take care as it would not do to meet the Governor and any others with self-inflicted wounds on his face. He rinsed his skin, drying it on the linen towel before cleaning the razor and the badger hair brush. He then scrubbed his teeth and rinsed carefully; he had no wish to meet the surgeon or a barber to have teeth pulled if at all avoidable. The recollection of a pirate's metallic grin came into his head and quite unwillingly the Commodore smiled ruefully at the memory. Even when the annoyance was not present physically, Sparrow still managed to insinuate himself into Norrington's thoughts.

Setting his grooming implements aside neatly, he moved over to the dressing stand where his uniform had been laid out for him. Working quickly, he took a freshly laundered cravat and wrapped it tidily around his neck, wishing not for the first time that he could have the comfort of his less formal attire. However, the uniform was required and as the military commander of the area, he did not have the luxury of comfort and was resigned to the weight and heat of wool and wig.

As he finished dressing, his servant returned to his chamber bringing his freshly brushed dark blue jacket and held it for him to don. Fortunately this was not a state occasion requiring his full dress uniform so he would be spared all the frippery today. Thankful for the small blessing, Norrington picked up his correspondence in the worn leather pouch and took the cocked hat held out for him. He would not bother to put the hat on until he was ready to leave the house, the mirror in the cross hall a convenient place to check his appearance. For all the discomfort, James did take some satisfaction in knowing he looked very well indeed in his uniform, standing out among the denizens of Port Royal. How many of them would be able to recognize the man rather than the uniform was a matter for speculation.

When he left the house, the carriage was waiting to take him up to the Vice-regal mansion, saving him from arriving sweaty from the walk. The ride did not take terribly long and soon he was stepping down from the carriage to be greeted by Swann's current butler, the previous one having been slain in the hall by the pirates who had kidnapped Elizabeth that memorable night.

"Good morning, Farrell. I have an appointment to see His Excellency."

"Good morning, Commodore Norrington, His Excellency is expecting you and will be joining you shortly. He has asked that you be shown to the morning room, given the hour of the day and the current weather."

"Thank you, that is quite acceptable."

With that, the butler escorted his charge to the comfortable room on the cool side of the mansion. The heat of the day would soon enough build and make the room quite hot but for now it was pleasant and airy, the light blues and greens adding to the impression. Norrington appreciated the gesture on Swann's part as he was shown into what was a family room, not the more formal salons or reception rooms. The tall windows on two sides were opened wide to permit the morning breezes to pass through unimpeded, the light silk draperies pulled aside and rippling softly in the air currents.

"If you would care to be seated, sir, I will see that refreshments are brought directly."

With a nod and a polite smile, Norrington went over to the windows overlooking the harbour both to enjoy the view and to check on the vessels at anchor beyond the docks. He kept an ear on the goings on in the house but the majority of his musings were on the approaching departure of his ships and the campaign he had to mount. That there would be casualties was a given but failure was not an option he would even begin to contemplate.

He spared a momentary thought to the revelations of a couple of days past and the return of Jack Sparrow into his ordered life. He had enjoyed the earlier portion of that evening, fencing with Will and jesting with Elizabeth in the relaxed atmosphere of the forge. The visit by a certain pirate had actually proven quite entertaining but for all the man's oddities and notoriety, there was a possible benefit to the Crown to permit his continued existence. He wondered if Sparrow had twigged yet to his presence in the Old Goat; the Commodore would love to be a fly on the wall when the ball dropped and Sparrow realized whom he had interrupted.

"Commodore Norrington, how good to see you this morning!"

"Thank you, Governor Swann. I have come to apprise you of the plans we have finalized to deal with this situation."

"Ah, the townsfolk at least will have some comfort in seeing the Navy set out in pursuit to deliver retribution."

Weatherby Swann's full wig, extravagant clothes and slightly vacuous expression were countered by the shrewd eyes and kindly expression; Swann's somewhat waspish sense of humour had been passed along to his headstrong offspring and was one of the things Norrington most enjoyed in their friendship. The two men were rather isolated from easy discourse with many of the people around them due to their respective ranks and perforce had to associate closely, not a hardship for either man.

"Yes, sir. I've brought copies of my plans, both for the forces I'm leaving to protect the town and those I'm taking with me. I have also arranged for the patrols at sea to stand in closer to Port Royal and Jamaica whilst I am away. Very likely I will send one of the vessels back sooner than the rest, depending upon what we encounter. The fort shall be in the charge of Major Cuthbertson until our return."

"Very good, James. I've yet to hear very much about these new raiders, even after several days now to allow the rumours to percolate. That, by itself, says a fair bit considering how fond the gossipmongers are of new grist for their mills."

While they made their greetings, each man had found his customary seat at the circular table in the smaller, more intimate morning room, Swann at the head facing the patio windows leading to the garden and Norrington to his right, maintaining a view of the ocean. The breakfast foods were laid out on the serving table behind the Governor. Norrington laid the despatch case on the chair beside him, opening it to remove the documents he had mentioned and placing in easy reach of his friend.

The Governor broke open the seals on the pages and spread them out in front of his place setting, arranging them in a logical manner. He glanced quickly over the lot before rising to help himself to the items that took his fancy this morning, turning around to remind his guest to be sure to make himself free of whatever he wished, seeing as how it was likely to be some time before such foods were once again available to the Commodore.

"Thank you, sir, I would appreciate it. Your cook is much sought after by some of the townsfolk, should you ever choose to let her depart your service."

"Well, one must keep up one's establishment as best as one can; however, it will be a very long time before I would willingly let my cook leave. It took long enough to find her and I am well cognizant of what a treasure I have in her. Elizabeth is very fond of the woman and certainly spent enough time below stairs as a child, when she could escape her governess and tutor. I know you prefer a frugal meal to a heavy one and there should be enough selection here that you will be comfortable. I have found myself that the heat of this climate is not the most comfortable with the heavier fare we enjoyed in England. If you do not see what you wish here, then you merely have to let Farrell know."

"There is no need to trouble your staff, what is here is perfectly fine for my needs. Thank you for the offer."

Norrington elected to have some of the coffee he had developed a taste for since arriving in Jamaica, adding the sugar that was so readily available from the cane fields on the island. In England, the sweetener was a luxury but here one could indulge, often to the detriment of one's dentition. When each had made his selections, they returned to the table and for a time silence reigned as Swann perused the documents as he ate. Periodically he would offer a comment or a nod to himself as he took in certain details of the reports and the plans Norrington had proposed to deal with the attackers.

"These would appear to be your usual well-conceived plans, James. What yet troubles me is the lack of information we have about these people, who they are, where they come from, who their backers are and so forth. Are there other avenues of information that you might pursue?"

"Actually that is one of the matters I would like to talk to you about, sir. I have put out word through unofficial sources that accurate news would be profitable to the right party. I have also come to something of an accord with an acquaintance of yours and it is about whom I particularly wish to confer with you."

Weatherby Swann sat back from his meal and peered closely at the younger man, curious about the careful wording of the request as well as the very circumspect look accompanying it. He was beginning to wonder exactly which acquaintance Norrington would be referring to in such a circuitous manner, reminding him of his daughter when she was exercising her wiles to get something she believed he would not approve. He refrained from mentioning the likeness to James as he did not believe it would be well accepted. Thinking of his daughter brought something else to his suspicious mind and he mentioned it before he could stop himself.

"You know, James, for some odd reason, I just had a picture of Elizabeth and that pirate of hers come into my mind. You know the one I mean, that Sparrow fellow, the outrageous one who made such a nuisance of himself not so long ago."

Swann was quite intrigued by the sudden stillness beside him; Norrington had frozen in place with his cup at his lips and the most peculiarly guilty look in the striking green eyes. That was more than sufficient to tell Swann that he had managed to hit the nail on the head and that is was indeed concerning Captain Jack Sparrow that the Commodore had wanted to talk to him.

"Well, James, it would appear Elizabeth's pirate is up to his tricks again. Why do not you tell me all about it and then ask whatever it is that you want me to do?"

Norrington gave a quiet sigh, replaced his coffee can in its saucer, being sure to set the handle just so, and turned to look at his friend. He had no idea how he had given himself away but knew perfectly well that there was a good deal of shrewdness lurking behind the kindly face. Probably Weatherby had had to develop certain intuitive skills in dealing with his strong-willed daughter, not to mention the sharks that walked in court circles in London, giving him a bit of an unfair advantage over a mere naval officer.

"I cannot say I understand how you managed to make that inspired leap of intuition, although I could hazard a guess, but you are correct in your identification of the subject. Jack Sparrow is indeed the topic I wished to speak to you about."

"What has occurred to make you change your mind about pirates, James?"

"Nothing, actually, sir; I still believe most adamantly they are plagues upon the earth and need to be eradicated forthwith. Rather, I would say that I had altered in my estimation of one pirate in particular. Sparrow, I have to say, is a good man and has proven himself to be a man of some sort of honour in the time we have had dealings with him. He has the affection of your daughter and her fiancé, as well as the admiration of a number of my officers and men. More to the point, since he regained possession of the Black Pearl, he has been most careful to plunder vessels without interfering with either British ships or settlements. In fact, he seems to have largely confined his activities to those nations with which we are in conflict."

"Yes, I have been rung quite a few peals over the sterling qualities of Sparrow of late. I do not believe that would have been of any influence over you, however, so what else has happened? I confess, I am most curious, indeed, to hear what has changed the mind of the Great Pirate Hunter of Port Royal." Swann could not quite resist teasing the Commodore just a little.

For a moment, the Commodore stared pointedly at His Excellency, the Governor, before capitulating. He related the appearance of Sparrow on the evening at the forge where he had gone along to visit with the young blacksmith and his fiancée and to indulge in some fencing practice. Such visits had become more commonplace as the three younger people had reconciled their differences and began to form solid friendships; the surprise had been when Sparrow had shown up and made himself quite to home before inviting himself to join in the fencing.

Swann began to chuckle at the image of what must have transpired and wished he had been there to observe it all. The resigned look on Norrington's face even now was enough to make him struggle to hold back a laugh.

"Details, James, details. I want to hear all about you crossing blades with a pirate. I know Will to be a fine swordsman but how does Sparrow go on?"

"It was quite the evening, I can assure you, but I must admit I did enjoy myself, once we had settled on the Rules of Engagement, to Will's great relief. Jack Sparrow is an enigma, there are elements of the gentleman as well as the scoundrel; I have no idea where he originates from but I discover in myself a greater wish to find out. As for what sort of swordsman he is, he is a fine one and classically trained, once he settled down and let that side of him come to the forefront. He seems to play to the audience of the moment and its expectations of him. He is also highly adaptable and creative when it comes to getting out of situations and his sword play shows it. He acknowledged the loss of my men when we took back the Dauntless from the undead pirates, he had tried his best to avoid unnecessary deaths but it was not to be."

"In a sense, he must be one of the few with whom you can be yourself, James. Sparrow has a fine ship, knows the sea and the sword, has some form of honour, and is more or less of the same rank as you are yourself. Meeting like that on neutral ground and having to find a way to deal with each other would intrigue anyone, I should think. What were my daughter and Will doing during all this?"

"At the onset, they were terrified Sparrow and I might do our utmost to kill each other and were much relieved when we found other avenues. It was actually a very pleasant occasion and I quite enjoyed it all, at least until Murtogg and Mullroy came to fetch me back to the fort. I made certain to inquire of Sparrow if he had heard aught about new attacks on British settlements but he claimed to have no knowledge of it, having just returned to these waters. I was able to get some assurance from him to the effect that he would consider relaying information that could help protect his friends here. I left him there with Elizabeth and Will so he could finish his visit with them, as he had not ventured into the town to meet with any naval officers, off duty or otherwise."

"I returned to my office immediately and met with my officers to get the information and begin my campaign plans. Afterwards I ventured back down to the docks area for a time to put the word out to one of my informants that I would be interested in any information concerning these raids. Whilst I was talking to the man, Sparrow showed up again, wanting to have a chat of his own with the same person. I kept my head down and quietly left the premises after I had concluded my business there."

"Odd how the man appears underfoot when you are not actively seeking him for punishment, is it not? Do you mean to tell me that Sparrow saw you there so closely but failed to recognize you? How could that be, James?"

"I had changed into other clothes, wore a hat, kept quiet, put up a smokescreen from my pipe and turned my face away so as not to draw his attention. At any rate, he returned to the crew members he had with him and passed me by again as I was leaving to return to my quarters."

For a moment, Weatherby and James exchanged satisfied smirks before they returned to the serious business before them. For the remainder of his visit, Norrington answered final questions from the Governor regarding the details of his schemes and the provisions he had made for the fort in his absence. Concluding his visit, the Commodore sorted the papers into the ones he was leaving with Swann and stashed the rest back into his satchel. The men stood and as Norrington prepared to take his leave of the Governor, Swann asked one last question.

"Now that I am clear on your plans to deal with this situation, the only thing that remains, I believe, is what you wish of me concerning Jack Sparrow. From what you have said, not to mention what my daughter and young Turner have gone on about unceasingly, I would assume a Letter of Marque and possibly a pardon of some sort are the next step. After all, it is easier to rehabilitate a pirate if one does not have to hang the man on sight, is it not, James?"

"I do not know how much rehabilitation Sparrow would be able to cope with but yes, I would like to have those papers in hand. If he proves to be a man of his word and does come forward with assistance, in addition to what he did before, I should prefer to be prepared with the legal means to save his neck. One cannot allow him to flagrantly escape each time he comes into the town and given that he has friends here, his presence would be noted eventually. So long as he confines his activities to non-British targets, I am willing to concede this for him, even though there are some who would consider me to be growing soft to go so far."

"I concur, James, the man is at least amusing and this way, I may even gain some peace in my household on the subject of one Jack Sparrow. Very well, I will have the temporary papers drawn up and copies sent to you before you sail, in case they are needed whilst you are away. I will also keep a set of them here for the same reason. I will put one stipulation on the arrangement and that is that Sparrow will not be issued a full pardon or Letter until such time as he satisfies me by demonstrating continuing to discriminate between British and other ships and property. Any service on his part that proves of value to the Crown would also aid in acquiring my approval on this matter."

"In other words, Sparrow will have to prove himself to you and that his intentions are genuine, not merely a ruse for his purposes."

"That is exactly what I mean. He is an entertaining fellow, certainly, but the Crown cannot be seen as easily manipulated and deceived and if I am to defend my decision in London, then it would be good to have a substantial burden of proof in hand. For now, the pardon will be a temporary one with something more permanent when Sparrow has demonstrated his reformation."

"I comprehend completely and concur with the caution. Thank you, sir."

"Of course, my daughter and her young man would be quite pleased if this comes to pass. I am quite certain they desire Sparrow to attend their nuptials."

Swann and Norrington exchanged commiserating looks, knowing exactly what Elizabeth would feel and say on the matter of Jack Sparrow's continued existence. James knew that Weatherby had no intention of revealing his plans to her until he felt like it, thus allowing his daughter to continue her campaign to save her pirate. It might not have been the choice of entertainment James would have chosen, however, he understood the temptation and knew his older friend was subtle enough to play his daughter for some time to come.

The Commodore bowed politely to the Governor as he bade him farewell, quite satisfied with how the meeting had gone. Now he only had to do as well with the remainder of his preparations and then he would be back to sea where he belonged. Swann recognized the eagerness in the younger man to be on the chase again, the focused intensity growing in the clear green eyes reminding him of a hunting tiger he had seen once in India. He had always enjoyed studying people, attempting to see the motives and desires behind the many masks they presented to the world, and James was one of the more interesting men he had come to know. He had hopes that Sparrow might provide some diversions for him in the future. For now, he could only wish Norrington success and a safe return. On that note, the two friends parted company

xoxoxoxoxoxox

Port Royal and its bastion Fort Charles buzzed with anticipation as news of the attacks spread and people watched the Navy make preparations to sail out after the new pirate threat. Speculation ran rampant as people from the lowest stations to the highest passed along each fresh soupçon of news, real or imagined, to liven up the tedium of their everyday lives. It was not so much they wished ill upon any one, rather they were starved for something aside from the stale and familiar, just so long as the trouble did not come their way. They found the sight of the squadron in their harbour reassuring and relied on Norrington to live up to his reputation as a hunter and purveyor of punishment on their behalf.

The Commodore observed the townspeople and their savouring of the latest rounds of rumour with resignation. He understood the mix of horror and guilty pleasure as well as the lure of such for most of the folk. On the one hand, the terror of the destruction wreaked by Barbossa and the Black Pearl still lay close in the minds of the people who had experienced it. On the other, Port Royal was a colonial outpost and far removed from easy access to the latest news from London and Europe. Gossip of all sorts was a mainstay of the society hereabouts and anything remotely fresh was pounced upon like terriers after a rat.

Norrington had not the slightest intention of fuelling any of the stories making the rounds, plausible or otherwise. He would issue a declaration of what facts he deemed sufficient for the people to know and make his departure before they could swarm around him. Major Cuthbertson was quite able to handle the fort and most situations whilst the Commodore was elsewhere and Governor Swann would do his part toward maintaining order and appearances. The Lachesis was to keep a close patrol of these waters whilst the fleet was out at sea; if circumstances warranted it, he would dispatch one of the vessels to go back to assist her until their return to port.

Assuming all went well, he would find and eliminate the raiders and end their depredations in his territory. Coincidentally, such a victory would serve to warn off others who may have taken a notion to try their luck against the Scourge. Norrington knew what his reputation was and had no qualms about using it to further his ends; he did not care particularly for the sensationalism but he did appreciate not losing any more of his marines and sailors than necessary. He never forgot that not only were the men under his command flesh and blood, some with families and others without. They were also scarce commodities, given the lack of regular or sufficient replacements from England.

The night before their planned departure, Norrington went aboard the Dauntless after making his final arrangements with the Governor, the local Watch and at the fort. He would sleep aboard so as not to waste the early tide and offshore breeze. The Dauntless was anchored close to the mouth of the bay and would be able to make way more easily from there than if she had been docked close in to the shore.

As was his custom, Norrington inspected the ship to gauge both her preparedness and the state of the crew's spirit. Reports had their proper place and uses but he had always believed in seeing for himself, rather than relying on the words of others. He passed along each deck, pausing here and there to say a quiet word to a number of the crewmen. Norrington was blessed with an excellent memory for faces and names and he had observed in the past how a man could be reassured simply by being acknowledged. It was a straightforward matter requiring only such small courtesies but one that aided his command of ship and crew.

Norrington believed in proper discipline but could see no benefit in a ship run by fear of the lash; men worked better when treated responsibly and he made every effort to prevent situations arising whereby the Service would require him to have a man flogged. When there was no other recourse, he had at times had to obey the strictures of the Navy and counted it more a failure on his part not to have prevented the situation from arising.

In turn, the Commodore was respected by his men, officers and crew alike. His dedication and ability made them proud of him and just as proud to serve under him. The successes he had accomplished against the pirates infesting the area had brought a substantial amount of prize money into the pockets of many, never a bad thing in the King's Navy. Norrington was no mere figurehead; he was an experienced and capable sailor who understood ships as well as any man among them. His insistence upon order and discipline extended to himself as well as the lowest seaman. It would have come as a surprise to the Commodore to be told just how much store his men placed upon him and the boasts they made in their pride of serving under him.

After completing his round of the ship, Norrington returned to the quarterdeck to gather his thoughts for a time and then made his way to his cabin after bidding goodnight to the officer on night watch. He divested himself of his uniform, choosing to dress in an old, comfortable pair of breeches to sleep in; once out at sea, he would sleep in his clothes as usual. Aboard Dauntless, he had the luxury of a cot rather than the more common hammock but it still swung on its tackle to the movement of the ship, a soothing motion he missed on land. Through the open stern windows, he could hear the wavelets slapping against the hull below and the creaks and noises of the ship surrounding him. To this familiar music, he fell asleep quickly and dreamlessly.

The morning broke all too soon and bid to be a day of changeable weather. Shortly after rising, Norrington had had a signal made to the other senior officers to come aboard Dauntless. The Commodore made his toilette and took his morning meal with his fellow officers in the great cabin per his custom. There was a tension that could be felt throughout, an eagerness to be off on the hunt. Norrington asked for reports from each man in turn, beginning with the captains. The ships were well supplied, even for such short notice, and the Commodore was well pleased with the state of the vessels and their crews.

During the search for the raiders, the men would be drilled for gunnery and possible situations that might arise if they came to a battle. Strategy and tactics could only go so far; sometimes it came down to fighting in close quarters and survival in such confusion became tantamount. Constant practice of gunnery and listening for commands paid off if a situation came to close quarters although Norrington preferred to use tactics to overcome the enemy. Boarding was costly in men's lives and did not carry assured an assured outcome.

As the patrol continued, he would communicate changes in strategy as they arose; for now, the officers had a sound idea of what they were about. He was careful to include more than just the commanders of the other vessels; in the event of casualties, he hoped to have enough of the command structure remaining to take over. Pragmatically, he included himself among the possible losses.

Last missives were sent ashore and the final communiqué from the Governor wishing them good hunting and success on their venture completed their obligations and, at the familiar bellow from the sailing master, Dauntless's crew scrambled up into the rigging to make sail as the anchor was raised and secured to the cat head. The other vessels had sailed earlier on; smaller and lighter, they were more able to use the breeze coming off the land. They would head out and take up position to give the widest area to sweep, remaining within sight of Dauntless, the hounds loosed by the hunter.

The grand ship ponderously made her way out past the headland into open water and caught the breeze, bellying out her sails and picking up speed. There was a heavy chop on the water this morning and a pronounced swell, sufficient to lift even the bulk of Dauntless's massive hull. Norrington stood on the quarterdeck and looked up as the higher sails were unfurled and began to fill in turn, enjoying the spread of bleached canvas as it snapped outward; she was a fine proud ship that he loved even though no longer her captain. Someday he hoped to be back in command of a fine ship and free of the restraints his rise in rank had place on him; ambition and true desire did not always march together as he would have preferred. For now, he would take what he could.

The Dauntless was truly a magnificent vessel, tall and heavily gunned, built of stout English oak and in her prime, her might representing the rising command Britain had of the seas and, for now, she was his. Every ship had its own personality and sensibilities, some were decent, mannerly vessels, others were fortunate or stubborn, happy or unluckyand Dauntless was well suited for her role as the queen of the Jamaica squadron. She was as much the predator as the Commodore and neither of them cared to be anchored to the shore with its surly, sullen earth. Somnolent no longer, he could feel her rise and surge forward powerfully beneath his feet, impatient to return to the killing grounds that were her rightful domain.

TBC

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