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Harry & the Pirate: Norrington's Choice
Chapter XIII. Lady Luck
Jack righted himself with some difficulty and sat, leaning against the rough wall, holding his hand protectively over the aggravated wound on his arm. He looked at the others. Owens wore a horrified expression but appeared to be uninjured. Charles, however, had a crude bandage around his forehead, and there was some bruising visible along the side of his face. Norrington was leaning against the grated front of the cell, gingerly working at what was probably a broken tooth, and frowning down at Jack. The Commodore finally removed the piece of tooth and examined it in the dim light.
"How very annoying," he commented with a grimace, before tossing it away in evident disgust. He turned to Charles. "Are you all right, lad?"
For a moment Charles flushed, and his chin trembled, but he took a shaky breath and nodded. "Y-you came for us!" he said, as though he didn't quite believe it.
Norrington raised a brow, and smiled a little. "Did you think we would not?"
"I thought…I wondered…" But he could not go on, and Norrington, seeing it, went to him.
Jack watched Norrington embrace the boy, and lead him off to the opposite corner of the cell where they sat down on the straw-covered floor together. And then Owens was there, crouching down beside him, looking distressed, and Jack smiled crookedly. "All right, then?"
"Sir! What happened? Did they hurt you?"
"Not so much," Jack said. "Fella grabbed me arm is all, an' it's still a mite sore—Lady Harry caught me with a stray bullet a few days ago."
"What!" Owens stared wide-eyed.
"Sit down here an' I'll tell you," said Jack. Owens sat, cross-legged, facing him, and Jack proceeded to tell the boy just what mayhem had been afoot in his absence. Charles, hearing Jack telling the story in his amusing way, and Owens's exclamations and questions, gradually regained his composure, although he did not move from Norrington's side. Jack concluded the story by saying, "…so Tussaud's devils dragged us off to the dining room to meet with him. Couple of other fellows I knew there too. And his wife—have you seen her? Oddly hirsute for a Frenchwoman—guess she don't fancy waxing, like so many of 'em do."
"Waxing?" Owens inquired.
"The Frenchwomen—at least the highborn ones—have their dressers melt wax and spread it over their skin, wherever they don't want hair. Legs, an' upper lips, an'…uh…well, other places. And then, when it cools, the dresser rips it right off, and the hair comes with it."
"Ugh!" Owens grimaced, and Charles turned to Norrington in shocked fascination. His mentor nodded, only just preserving his gravity.
"Aye. Hurts like the devil. From what they tell me, that is." Jack rolled an eye at the Commodore.
Gathering from the look that somehow Jack had first hand experience in such matters, Norrington raised a brow, and then began to laugh, helplessly. The boys joined in, uncertainly, and Jack grinned too, although Norrington could swear the pirate was actually reddening under his bronzed complexion. Norrington made a real effort to stifle his laughter, not wishing to draw the attention of the guard that was undoubtedly stationed outside the door. Gaining a little control, he wiped his eyes and said, "Oh my God. You are beyond belief. After all this…and…well. Tomorrow."
"What about tomorrow?" said Owens, his smile fading.
Norrington sobered rather quickly, and, noticing Charles's sudden worry, gave his shoulders a slight squeeze. The Commodore looked at Jack.
The pirate hid his fear behind a calm voice and a cheeky smile. "Tomorrow. Well, ye never know about tomorrow, do you now? It may be that there'll be a bit of rough weather to get through. Tussaud doesn't much like me, I have to say, which is why he took you boys. And I'm sorry for it. I can see that young Charles here has been ill-used by the blackguards, and you too I suppose, Owens?"
Owens shrugged, quite in Jack's manner, and said, "It was nothing. But what will they do with you, Captain?"
"I'll be all right." And seeing Norrington's sardonic look, Jack added lightly, "You never know what'll happen between the drop an' the stop, eh?"
Norrington stared at the man sitting across the way, admiration contained in his gaze. And pity.
Jack leaned his head back and closed his eyes, letting his smile fade.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
It was two in the morning, by Jack's guess, when, to his surprise, he was awakened by some sound.
He had thought sleep would remain a stranger to him this night, for, though he'd put a bold face on it, the thought of what might be coming to him in the morning was more than enough to chase Morpheus away. He'd seen men flogged like that before, and there were scars on his own back that gave evidence of his own brief but all too intimate acquaintance with the cat. He'd seen the look Norrington had given him: as though he was something out of the ordinary because he chose to ignore the fear that felt like a live thing in his belly. No use in weeping and wailing about it, though, and scaring the little lads beforehand. Time enough for that after. If he lived. Of course Tussaud had promised to see to that, hadn't he?
But there was that sound again. Jack opened his eyes. Norrington and young Charles were still leaning against each other, dim shapes in the darkness, asleep. Owens stirred against Jack's own side, murmuring and then sitting up.
"What is it?" the boy whispered.
Jack shook his head. "Don't know. Listen."
There were voices now. Women?
Across the big room which contained the gaol cells, the hole that was the entrance to the oubliette (thankfully unoccupied at present), and a variety of devices designed for the sole purpose of causing the maximum amount of discomfort to whomever was so unfortunate as to be 'embraced' by Tussaud, Jack could see the heavy wooden door, the only method of egress, and, to his wonderment, he heard a key turning in the lock. He rose to his feet, and Owens stood up too, catching Jack's coat sleeve in his fingers.
Norrington opened his eyes now. He nudged Charles, then got up and came to Jack. "It is not yet morning."
"No," agreed Jack.
Charles came to stand by the Commodore. The four of them watched as the door opened a crack, and then wider, admitting beams of light. And then the door opened even wider, and two cloaked women came in, the first holding a lantern, the second a serviceable pistol.
"You are Capitaine Sparrow?" said the lady with the lantern.
"Yes, Madame," said Jack, eyeing the pistol warily. The woman holding it was nearly as tall as he was himself, and rather heftier, and when she tossed back the hood of her cloak it was seen that she was what was referred to as a 'handsome' woman.
The shorter woman with the lantern removed her hood as well, revealing a resemblance to the other, though she was built on more compact lines. "I am Amelie Guerinot," she said in a soft, calm tone. "This is my sister, Louise." She turned to her sister and said, "Put the pistol away, Louise! They cannot harm us from behind the door!"
"Me, I do not trust men even then," said Louise. "Perhaps they are knaves!"
Norrington spoke in his awkwardly accented French. "I assure you, Madame, we would not think to harm you. But what can we do for you?"
Louise was a little mollified by his polite words. "I see that you at least are a gentleman, but what about this scoundrel, eh? Capitaine Sparrow, indeed! Why he is nothing but a pirate, Amelie!"
"Madame," said Jack in his most persuasive tones, "I am entirely at your service! If you will but unlock the door…"
"Yes, Louise," said Amelie. "There is no time! We must trust them. We must!"
Louise appeared to grind her teeth, and then muttered, "Ah, this is madness!" She narrowed her eyes at Jack and said, "Very well! But if you act falsely I will shoot you dead, hein?"
"Never in life, Madame Louise!" said Jack, holding up his hands and spreading his fingers.
"I will tell you quickly," said Amelie, taking a key from her pocket and beginning to try to unlock the door. "I am Madame Tussaud's dresser, and my sister is head cook for the Governor. Although I have not been treated harshly, I have not been happy in my position here: there are things that go on in this house—terrible things!—of which I cannot approve. And that man! Beauvais! He has been a guest for weeks and…well, his manners are not those of a gentleman!"
"The snake throws himself at her!" Louise said, disgusted. "As though she would deign to look at such an one! Amelie, let me try!"
Amelie had not yet succeeded with the lock, and as Louise reached to take the key, it dropped to the floor. Quick as thought, Jack squatted and reached through the bars, snatching it up. As he rose again he said with an appealing smile, "I'll try, if ye don't mind—I'm something of an expert with locks."
Amelie hesitated a moment, but then said, "Very well." She motioned her sister back. Louise complied, but raised the pistol again, and gave a little gasp as Jack opened the lock with no difficulty and pushed the door open.
"Vraiment! An expert indeed!" said Louise coldly. "You have vast experience with the locks of gaols then."
"As you suspected, Madame," said Jack with a grin. "I take it ye want to leave the Governor's employ, same as your sister wishes to leave Madame Tussaud's?"
"Yes," said Louise, and for the first time she sounded a little less confident. "I have worked for him since I was a girl, you understand. I began as a lowly kitchen maid, years ago, and learned to cook from whomever would teach me. I have an aptitude for the culinary arts, and advanced to master chef in the household. But then, a year ago, that villain of a Governor sent to France for a new chef, the so famous Anatole! As though my cooking is inferior, because I am a woman! Bah! I spit upon this Anatole! "
Owens opened his mouth to protest, but Jack gave him a warning nudge and he subsided. Norrington had placed a hand on Charles's shoulder.
Louise went on. "Fortunately he was captured by pirates and done away with. Good riddance! But it is only a matter of time before the Governor sends to France once more. He has no appreciation of my skill! Not in the least. Therefore I will leave him."
Amelie said, "My sister is a marvelous cook, and we have heard that the British are in need of such. We beg that you will take us with you, so that we may begin new lives. But even if you will not, we will let you go. We could not let the little boys come to harm, and no man is deserving of the kind of treatment Tussaud metes out."
Louise narrowed her eyes and waved the pistol a bit as she said, "They will take us!"
"Indeed we shall, Madame!" Norrington assured her.
"Yes, of course!" Jack agreed, thinking that he'd had quite enough of ladies carrying loaded pistols lately. "But we should hurry, don't you think?"
"Yes. Come then. Your weapons are in the hall," said Amelie, and Louise finally lowered the pistol as Jack and Norrington rushed past, followed by the boys.
Their swords and other confiscated items were in a bundle on the floor in the hall by the sentry, who appeared to be deeply asleep.
"Drugged?" Jack asked the ladies.
"Yes," said Louise. "I know many herbal remedies and potions. It was as nothing. He will sleep, then awaken with a terrible head at midmorning."
"That right?" Jack said, "You are a woman of great resource, Madame. I shall take pains to avoid your wrath!"
Louise nodded, pleased. "It is well, pirate."
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
Amelie led the party in careful silence by a circuitous route to a laundry room and thence out an obscure side door. They encountered no one in crossing the gardens, although they were careful to keep to the deep shadows, and to keep talk at a minimum. Amelie led them to the same door in the wall through which Jack and James had entered the property the previous evening.
"This is excellent!" Amelie exclaimed. "I had feared we would have difficulty with this door, for it is not often used."
Emerging from Tussaud's property, Jack said, "It's only three hours from dawn by the look of things. We've got to be at the cove to signal the Pearl by then or we'll miss the rendezvous and have to hide all day. Tussaud's like to be more than a bit put out at havin' his fun curtailed: avoiding him might be a bit difficult."
"Oh, he and Madame will both be furious! And Madame's brother: he has spoken of little but revenge since he came to us a month back. I think his illness was more than half due to damaged pride!"
"Could be," Jack shrugged. "Takes some fellas like that. I've seen it before."
"Come," said Louise, impatiently. "We must hurry! Where is the rendezvous point?"
"A little cove just over the hills from Fort-de-France."
Norrington said, grimly, "We may not make it in time if we retrace our steps. Perhaps there is a shorter way?"
Amelie and Louise knew of none, however, so they continued on, as quickly and quietly as possible, back to the road leading to Fort-de-France from Tussaud's lair. Stepping onto the exposed road stretched the nerves of all members of the party. They encountered no one, however, and presently they began to converse in low voices as they hurried along.
While Norrington kept Louise occupied with small talk, Amelie said to Jack, "Voyons! It will be good to have a new employer. Madame's toilette gave me little scope for genius: she is impatient in matters of grooming. Moreover, she has a fondness for black clothing—the Spanish influence at work, you understand. Her mother was of the pure Castilian blood."
"Ah," Jack said. "That explains it."
"Yes," agreed Amelie. "A true daughter of the Inquisition." She shuddered. "To think that Our Lord's message can be twisted in such a way!"
"Oh, quite. You'll be lookin' for work as a lady's maid then? I happen to know of a lady who's in the market for one."
"Vraiment? And is she a good and true lady? For I will not consider any less. My sister is a superb cook, and, though I say it myself, I am a superb dresser. We Guerinot's will no longer settle for society's dregs."
"Dregs, is it?" Jack chuckled. "I wonder what Tussaud and the Governor would have to say to that?"
Amelie sniffed. "Quality is not a matter of money or power. I heard that you called Tussaud a crimelord, and it is no more than the truth. And the Governor is hand in glove with him."
"Well, if we get off this island we'll see what we can do about the two of 'em. But as to the lady: she's as good and true as they come. She's my wife!"
"Wife? You are married?" Amelie asked, surprised.
"Aye. She's English. The sister of the Governor of Port Royal, and a former Duchess. We've been married less than a year. She's with child, as well."
"English. I have heard they are a little dull. Saving your presence, of course."
Owens, beside them, gave a slight snort of laughter.
"I wouldn't call her dull," said Jack, grinning. "But you shall judge for yourself. She's on the Black Pearl, waiting for us."
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
The fact that they did not need to come into the town saved them some time, but the moon was setting as they climbed the hills back toward the cove.
Madame Louise swore in a most unladylike manner. "These skirts are impossible in this terrain! If only I were a man. I could then wear breeches and save myself great annoyance."
Amelie said, amused, "Oh, Louise, you know you would miss toying with the men of the Governor's staff!" Amelie said to Jack and Norrington, in a teasing voice, "My sister is a great flirt, you understand."
Norrington's brows lifted and he and Jack exchanged a startled look at the picture this conjured up.
"Amelie!" said Louise, pretending to be severe, "You will give these men a bad impression of my character."
"No, no," murmured Norrington. "I assure you."
"Well, it is true that I enjoy men a great deal. They have such nonsensical ways. I find them highly amusing. Except for this villain, Anatole. I am glad he was taken by pirates, for it saved me from slitting his throat."
"Captain!" Owens, tugged Jack's sleeve fearfully.
Jack said, "Er…perhaps this Anatole isn't as bad a man as you're thinking, Madame."
"Perhaps," Louise conceded, "but chefs of that caliber are usually quite insufferable. I know, me."
"Look!" exclaimed Charles, as they gained the top of a ridge. "Is that the cove?" He walked out a few feet to the side and Owens came up with him. "I think I can see…" But then he yelped as the earth beneath him began to give way. He tried to scramble back to firmer ground, but only succeeded in pulling Owens down as well, and then the two of them were sliding swiftly into a ravine twenty feet below the others, their yells of alarm echoing in the dark until they were cut off abruptly as they hit the bottom.
"Bloody hell!" Jack exclaimed, searching for a safer way to follow them.
"Charles! Owens! Say something!" demanded Norrington.
"I'm all right," came Owens shaken voice, "But I think…"
"My arm!" Charles said, and the pain in his voice was unmistakable.
It took the others a little while to find a safe way down to where the boys were, and by the time they reached them Charles was sitting up, but he was gasping and near to tears.
"Charles!" said Norrington, dismayed at this turn of events. He went to the boy and knelt beside him, and Jack went to his other side after ascertaining that Owens's only distress was due to his friend's injury. The ladies stood together, holding hands tightly in sympathy and worry.
They could barely see in the dim light.
"Hold 'im an' I'll see how bad it is," Jack said matter-of-factly.
"Do you know how to set bones?" Norrington asked doubtfully, putting his arm around Charles and holding him tightly.
Charles stiffened and leaned into the Commodore, giving a strangled sound that could not quite be described as a whimper as Jack took his arm in gentle hands.
"Hush, lad. Try to relax, though this is like to hurt a bit." He began to feel along it carefully. "Aye, I can set 'em if it's a simple break, though Gibbs is better. We don't often carry a ship's surgeon, so we have to make do ourselves, don't we?" Charles was quiet now, though trembling a little with the effort and with shock. "Good lad," Jack said, finally, putting the arm down carefully.
Jack said to Charles and Norrington, "It'll hurt a good deal less when it's splinted. I'd rather try and reach the ship, and have Gibbs set it. We've laudanum we can give you, too, lad: you won't feel a thing."
"That would be an improvement," said Charles, a little weak, but still game, and he managed a small smile when the two men chuckled.
Owens crouched down and gave his friend's ankle a comradely squeeze. "He'll be all right, then?"
"He'll do," said Jack. "Let's you and I find something to use as a splint, eh?" He stood up and turned to the ladies. "We'll be as quick as we can, Mesdames."
"Is there anything we can do?" Amelie asked.
Her sister said, "I shall tear strips from my petticoat to tie the little splint."
"A generous thought, Madame Louise. And perhaps you can keep an eye out for pursuit, Madame Amelie. It's starting to get light."
It was. This made it much easier to locate appropriate material to splint the arm, but everyone began to feel more exposed, and nervous about missing the rendezvous. However, within a very few minutes Norrington was helping Charles to his feet, and the whole party moved off, albeit at a slower pace than before.
Though the sun would take some time to rise above the eastern hills, the sky had turned a far lighter blue when they finally reached the sheltered cove where they'd hidden the jollyboat. The Black Pearl was visible a half mile off shore.
"And a pretty sight she is!" Jack exclaimed happily.
The ladies made Charles sit down on a conveniently placed rock, and Owens and the Commodore uncovered the boat. Jack went to the water's edge, pulled his knife from his belt, and tried to catch enough light with the polished blade to signal the ship. At first it didn't seem to be working, but finally there was an answering flash.
"They've seen it!"
"Let's go!" Norrington exclaimed. He strode over and picked up Charles.
Owens scrambled into the boat and moved out of the way as Jack helped the ladies. "It'll be a bit of a squeeze, here," he commented. "We'd've brought the longboat if we'd known we'd have a couple of guests."
"It is no matter," Amelie assured him, seating herself.
"So long as we don't sink!" added Louise, sounding a little nervous. "Me, I cannot swim!"
"Pray God it don't come to that, then," muttered Jack, a horrible image of himself trying to aid Madame in the water coming to him unbidden.
They did not sink, though it was a long and tiring row for the men with the added weight. Once away from the shelter of the cove, a fresh breeze could be felt, and the water grew choppier, which also impeded their progress.
When they were halfway there, Owens exclaimed, "It looks like everyone's standing at the rail, waiting for us! Hello!" The boy popped to his feet and waved an arm.
"Bloody hell! Sit down!" Jack said angrily, looking up. "If you fall over the damned sharks can have you!"
"Sorry sir," said Owens, subsiding.
But something else had caught Jack's eye. "Norrington! Look! Rounding the point there." He stopped rowing for a moment and pointed.
Norrington stopped too, and looked. It was a long way off, but unmistakable. "Good God. It's one of the ships!"
"Looks like it's headed this way," Jack said, grimly. "Let's move."
They did, pulling for all they were worth. The Black Pearl had sailed in as close as was possible, but there were dangerous reefs hereabouts and Jack was thankful they held back, just waiting. And finally, their patience and the hard work of the men paid off: to the sound of happy calls and whistles, they reached the Black Pearl, with the French ship still a half mile off.
Owens was first up the ladder, scurrying up monkeylike. "We're all safe!" he announced, "But Charles has broken his arm!"
"Oh no!" Lady Margaret exclaimed, a mixture of worry and relief in her voice, and leaned far over the railing to watch as Norrington helped Charles climb, slowly and awkwardly.
Gibbs stepped forward to take Charles as he reached the top. "Broken yer arm, young Charles! Nurse Maria will be a mite upset to hear it! We'd best get it taken care of as soon as may be."
Norrington, who'd followed Charles onto the ship, said, "Yes, Jack said you would know what to do." And then he looked at Lady Margaret, who turned to him. Concern for his bruised, disheveled state came into her face, and admiration, and love into her eyes.
"James!" she said, almost in a whisper.
And to the considerable surprise and delight of the company, they fell into each other's arms and kissed.
Madame Amelie was next, followed closely by her sister, and Norrington left off his rather delightful interlude with Margaret to help and introduce them. "We would have been in dire straits indeed without the aid of these ladies," he remarked. "Jack in particular owes them a great deal for their timely intervention. But no doubt he will like to tell that story himself."
"Aye!" said Jack, coming up over the railing and handing the rope attached to the jollyboat to a grinning Will, "but it'll have to wait 'til we've put that Frenchie ship in our wake. I believe they're readying their guns as we speak. Where's Harry?"
"Here!" said Jack's lady, in an odd voice, and, coming forward, threw her arms around him and pressed her face against his chest, trembling.
"Harry, love, what's this!" said Jack, surprised. "We're safe, and all's well!" He kissed the top of her head.
She pulled away slightly, and said in a ravaged voice, "Oh, I know and I'm so very glad you are all right. But Jack: all is not well! I'm afraid I'm having the baby!"
And seeing his horrified look, she burst into tears.