DISCLAIMER: I have no claim whatsoever to any of the brilliant POTC characters; I am grateful to be sitting at a banquet table set by truly talented storytellers.
Let Justice Be Done
Jack and I arrived at the armoury to find a crowd of townsfolk and gypsies awaiting us. Mr Dawes had tried each key on the ring, but none would open the large padlock on the double doors. "What now?" he asked us.
"Damn the keys!" a familiar voice roared, and we turned to see Barbossa shoving his way through the crowd.
He strode up to where we stood in front of the armoury doors, the crew of the Pearl close on his heels. Thrusting Jack and me apart, he seized my pistols, aimed at the doors and fired. A great cheer went up from the assembly as the lock fell from its broken chain.
Barbossa turned to the crew and shouted, "Now break 'em down, ye stinking bilge rats!" and they proceeded to bash down the doors to the armoury.
Gypsies, townsfolk and pirates all swarmed into the arsenal, grabbing every weapon in sight. I took a sabre for myself, and found a dusty baldrick with a sword frog of about the right size. The leather was in a somewhat neglected state, but I buckled it on and took up the sabre, only to have it snatched away by Barbossa.
"Bad choice," he informed me. "Leave the fightin' to me; I can't be lookin' after ye. I've been usin' a sword since I was a lad, an' I intend t' join the fight, not be yer nursemaid." Then he put his hand on the hilt of my own scimitar, swiftly drawing it from its scabbard and hanging it on his belt.
Outraged at his tricks, I began to argue. "When was the time I asked you to look after me?" I demanded. "And what do you think I mean to do, if not join the fight? I intend to get square with Hanibal and the curs who attacked me, and I won't be baulked by you or anyone!" I lunged for my scimitar but he held me off.
"Then learn t' choose the right weapon," he growled. "This be a proper battle, not close quarters like y' have at sea. The shorter blades'll get ye killed. Ye need a better reach, t' begin with – here!" He handed me a rapier with a heavy ribbed pommel which I dropped into the sword frog for safekeeping. "An' take these," he added, handing me back my pistols.
"You used my last shot," I complained. "And now the armoury is empty!"
"Ye had but one shot?" he exclaimed, incredulous. "Think ye t' join a battle in that condition, ye witless blowen?"
"They were primed and ready before you took them!" I pointed out, raising my voice to match his. "Furthermore–"
"Are you two lovebirds finished?" Jack inquired with a smirk.
Barbossa rounded on him. "Why is that any concern o' yers, Sparrow?"
Jack assumed a look of wide-eyed innocence. "I was only wondering," he replied, "did you mean to join the skirmish over there" – he rolled his eyes and tilted his head towards the shingle – "or just start a right ding-dong battle of your own?"
We quickly turned our eyes to the shingle, where longboats carrying pirates and soldiers from the Troubadour and the Royal Oak had landed under cover of their ships' cannon fire. Hanibal's brigands were running down to the boats to fight them off, while Mr Dawes and the gypsies, many now carrying muskets and bayonets, joined in the battle. Jack, Barbossa and I hastily followed them.
"What are their names?" Jack suddenly demanded of me as we ran.
"Whose names?" I asked.
"You know very well – name 'em!" Jack retorted.
"Mawgan Curnow, Jago Colley, Goron Pascoe and Kenver Frayne," I said, "and I mean to avenge myself on every one!"
He nodded. "Not if I catch 'em first," he said through clenched teeth.
The wind was picking up as we neared the beach, and the sea was becoming rough; the storm I had seen hours earlier was almost upon us. In the harbour, one of Hanibal's ships was burning and being towed out to the "road" to keep the fishing boats from harm, courtesy of a contingent from the Royal Oak. The Pearl was being towed back to the Troubadour by another longboat, to be reclaimed later by her rightful owner.
Once on the shingle, I found myself attacked by a ruffian who slashed awkwardly with his cutlass. It was an easy matter to avoid his attack and drive the longer rapier straight through his middle. As soon as he fell, I spied Jago Colley in the thick of the fight, but I couldn't draw near enough to engage him. His opponent was steadily forcing him back to where some large fishing boats were beached and I had a sudden idea. I ran around the battling crowd and climbed up into the fishing boat nearest Colley.
As he retreated closer to my position, I stood up over Colley's head, holding the bloody end of the rapier in my gloved hands with the pommel down, as if I were preparing to drive a pall-mall ball through a wicket. When he was within reach, I swung my "mallet", as violently as I could, and the heavy pommel struck his head. He dropped like a stone, but the blade was slippery with gore, and the sword flew out of my hands. It landed near Barbossa, who, without looking for the source, snatched it up with his free hand, used it to finish his opponent, and then, holding two swords, moved away as he kept fighting. "Stop taking my swords, you – you pirate!" I shouted at him from atop the boat.
I dropped over the boat's side onto the shingle, and used my dagger to make sure Colley was dead. Grabbing the sword he had carried, I set off again. The tide seemed to be rising unusually fast; water had begun to cover the beach, and the battle was moving up the stone stairs to the granite of Pencarren's cobblestone streets above.
As I reached the top of the stairs, I saw several fires in the town. A group of Teague's men were burning the buildings used by Hanibal's cutthroats, and Mr Dawes was guiding them to each one.
A sudden burst of noise from cannon shot striking nearby made me drop to the ground and look out over the harbour. From Hanibal's other ship, his men were firing on the very street where we were all fighting.
They must be mad, I thought. Why doesn't Hanibal stop them? Those guns could kill him or his men just as easily as they could destroy us. And I wondered anew about the Basilikon.
Then I saw Barbossa at the water's edge, ordering some of the Pearl's crew into a longboat and preparing to set out for the ship. Under his leadership, the men worked together with great speed and purpose, and my regard for him increased as I saw how fearless and capable a commander he was.
Turning back to shore, I saw Jack fighting with two swords amidst a group on the west quay, where the town's fishermen were wont to unload their catch and mend their nets. I recognized the ugly silhouette of Kenver Frayne in the knot of men battling near Jack, and I ran to join the fray.
By this time, I was filled with the excitement of fighting, and I attacked Frayne very hotly with sword and dagger. It was easy to parry his attacks with my weapons, but more difficult to counterattack with Colley's heavy sword, using the movements in which I had been trained. As I struck at his sword arm, Frayne, a massive pig of a man, caught my weapon with his. He quickly bound my sword to the ground, and stepped on its blade, disarming me. Then, kicking my sword away, he attacked. I leaned back to avoid him, and slipped on a patch of seaweed, falling over backwards. As I landed, my hand touched part of a fishing net. I swung the net wildly at Frayne's blade. In this ungainly way, I managed to parry and avoid the thrust; but as I scrambled to my feet, I had only my dagger and the torn net, and I could no longer see where Jack was.
In desperation, I shouted out to anyone in earshot "Sword?!" The man fighting behind Frayne instantly turned towards me. It was Jack, and he quickly ran a sabre through Frayne. My opponent fell dead at my feet with the sword still sticking out of his back. I pulled out the blade, thanking Jack. He made me a courtly bow. "Use it in good health," he said with a wink.
Around us, rivulets of seawater were now beginning to flow over the quay as the water rose against the seawall. The shingle was completely underwater, whilst small crabs, quantities of wriggling pilchards, and clumps of seaweed made the slippery cobblestones a treacherous surface. Jack nudged me with his elbow and nodded towards the Red Lion, where much of the fighting was now taking place. Near the inn's hitching posts, Hanibal and Goron Pascoe were striking blows all round with savage success, as a small group of men tried to attack them.
I looked about me to see if Barbossa had returned, but Jack handed me a small spyglass and pointed towards the water. Through the glass, I could just pick out Barbossa on board Hanibal's remaining ship. He seemed to be fighting off several of the Judge's men, and the deck was swarming with activity, as the Pearl's crew fought to carry out Barbossa's orders. "He'll scuttle her," Jack told me, hurriedly. "They'll blow the magazine and set her ablaze. He's alright, love; off we go." We turned and ran towards Pascoe and Hanibal.
Jack engaged Hanibal, who was a fighter far superior to Goron Pascoe. With all the force of my rage, I attacked Pascoe. He charged me, aiming a slashing blow at my head. I ducked under his sword arm and seized him about the middle, holding my sabre behind him. We grappled for a moment and then I quickly pushed away, drawing my blade hard along his ribs as I went. He bent towards his wounded left side and I slashed his right leg, making him stagger. I kicked at his crotch and knocked him over the inn's horse trough. Before he could recover, I ran my sabre upwards under his ribcage, and killed him.
Pulling the sabre from Pascoe's body, I looked about in vain for Mawgan Curnow. I heard the echo of an explosion across the harbour, and turned just in time to see a fireball rise from Hanibal's last ship, as her shattered hull began to settle in the water. Barbossa was already in the longboat with his men, returning to shore.
Over the water, the noise of the storm grew stronger, and I could hear within it the sound of Calypso's voice. Turning to the harbour, I saw both of Hanibal's sinking ships surrounded by an unearthly phenomenon. At first, it seemed as if thin, twisting columns of white smoke were rising from the waves, but then the columns resolved themselves into many pairs of arms, stretching an incredible distance from the sea to the decks. As ghostly hands began to grasp the sides of each ship, a throng of grim, watery faces appeared above the foamy water; Calypso had released the spirits of Hanibal's victims, whose elongated shapes began to pull the ships under the waves amidst the cries of the few brigands still aboard.
I pushed through the mob surrounding Hanibal and Jack, hoping Barbossa would arrive in time to join the fight. Moving about, I tried to find a chance to help Jack without getting in his way, but both combatants were fighting so hotly and so far above my skill that I could not see my opportunity.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed another longboat approaching the shore, with a figure standing tall in its bow, seemingly impervious to the wind and waves, although the sea near the boat appeared strangely smooth. The level of the water was now just under the top of the sea wall, and Captain Teague stepped from the longboat straight onto the wall itself, and thence down to the cobblestones. Fighters on both sides fell silent, and even the storm seemed to abate, as Teague strode purposefully towards Jack and Hanibal.
The crowd parted as he approached, and then Teague stood alone with two pistols pointed at the Judge.
Hanibal raised his hand. "Edward! You know dearest Marianne wouldn't want you to murder her brother!" Teague walked slowly towards him, stopped, and remarked to Jack, "You're in my way again, boy."
Jack took a step back. "All yours, dad," he said.
"You're a piece of work, Hanibal, and no mistake – usin' her memory in that way," Teague replied in a steady voice. "But you killed the only one who could stay me hand, so my lovely girl ain't here to plead for you now. Ironic, innit?"
"Harry wouldn't approve," said Hanibal. Teague paused, expressionless, and lowered his pistols.
Then he said, "Nah, Harry'd be fine with it." He fired both pistols and Hanibal dropped to the street, motionless.
A great huzzah went up, and Teague acknowledged it, yet he remained staring at Hanibal for a few moments, as we felt the force of heavier wind gusts beginning to build around us.
Seeing him fall, many of Hanibal's men threw down their weapons and surrendered to us. A smaller band of villainous looking scoundrels gathered together between our men and the harbour, aiming to make a stand against us. But as the first squall line reached the shore, the same spirits that had sunk Hanibal's ships rose out of the foamy waters once more and began to overrun the sea wall, like pale threads of spindrift blown by the high winds. They twined their ghostly arms about the brigands, dragging them into the sea. In an instant, they pulled those cutthroats under the waves, never to be seen again.
Peter Dawes, Jack and Barbossa supervised the rounding up of Hanibal's men as the weather worsened. Captain Teague gave orders to secure the prisoners and take shelter before the core of the storm arrived: the roar of the wind was already making it difficult to be heard, and bands of heavier rain were spreading across the outer harbour.
In the ensuing confusion, I abruptly lost sight of Hanibal's body for several minutes. When the street was clear again, his body was gone. "What happened to the Judge?" I shouted, running here and there, trying to catch sight of Jack or Barbossa. Jack was the first to hear my voice over the noise, and he followed me back to the place where Hanibal had fallen. He looked surprised and taken aback to find no body on the cobblestones.
"And where is Mawgan Curnow?" I asked him. With growing alarm, I realised that both men were nowhere to be found. Although it seemed unthinkable, it was clear that Hanibal had somehow cheated death, and my speculations led me back to the fear that he was protected by the Basilikon. That meant he and Curnow were likely both escaping, even though the sea and the town's roads were all but impassable.
There remained but one way out.
"They've gone back to Highcliffe!" I cried to Jack as the rain began to pelt us in earnest. "They'll escape through the tunnels!" The old tunnels under Highcliffe led out to natural caves near the water; as children, Jack and I had played there, but in older times the tunnels had been witness to many graver forms of mischief. Frantic, I began to run towards Highcliffe with all my remaining strength, leaving the town in the hands of my friends. So intent was I upon preventing my enemies' escape that I did not see a tall, solitary figure take after me. Barbossa would not let me face my deadliest foes alone.
When I reached Highcliffe, I was breathless. Strong gales were whipping the trees now, accompanied by the storm's driving, torrential rain. I had not heard Barbossa's footsteps following me on the path; thinking myself alone, I was badly startled when he caught me by the arm and swung me round to face him.
He seized my hands tightly and shouted so that I could hear him. "We go in together," he ordered me, clasping my hands in palms that were callused and sweat-dampened. "Yer t' stay where I can see ye, an' I'll have no arguin' from ye!"
I nodded, but then I glanced back at the house, and gasped as I saw fire through the windows. "He means to burn it down and keep us from following him!" I yelled. I was not certain Barbossa could hear me, but I knew we would have to gain the house quickly, before the storm made it impossible to stand. With nerves keyed to the highest pitch, I turned and started forward rapidly, Barbossa at my side.
As we reached the door, I could see that some of the central roof was in flames. Fearing it might collapse and prevent us from pursuing our adversaries, I darted across the Great Hall without thinking. The moment I reached the far side, several burning rafters fell. I looked back, but could not see Barbossa through the smoke and fire, and I knew he could not follow me. Alone, I turned and began to hunt Curnow and the Judge.
Next: Chapter 27 - And the Heavens Fall - In which loyalties and passions may be Nina's undoing.