RED SKY
Explosions tore through the Herald Mark. The Revenge had gotten the drop on her, sneaking up behind them with the stealth of a snake in the grass. Norrington had to admire the daring and the bravado of Calico Jack Rackham to try to just slink up behind a ship commanded by a former naval officer turncoat. He had to give the man credit for having the sand to try that number.
But, still, Norrington knew his men. He knew as soon as the cannons of the Herald Mark had returned fire that there was no hope for any ship that dared run against him. Norrington and Beckett both had been sure to train the men well on that ship. Beckett had been sure to drill in procedures in regards to pirates specifically before assigning them to the flagship of the East India Company and the lead runner in his arsenal. After Norrington had taken command, he'd been sure to instill the very best of training his experience as naval officer as he could in such a short time.
His men were ready for anything, and they reacted as such. Every act, every motion, had been timed down to a perfect concert of action. In the gun gallery, the men worked in unison with one another, loading and reloading with ease. Norrington thanked their sharp wit and quick learning ability for that.
The cannon fire would take down the Revenge in no time flat.
'Pity,' Norrington lamented to himself. 'She would have made a fetching trophy.'
xxxx
Calico Jack Rackham knew, as soon as the Herald Mark came about and returned fire that there was nothing he could do. He hoped that the world would just come to an end right there, or that someone would come through for them. Whether it was the Antigua, the Royal Fortune, El Cazador, or Elizabeth and Sygne on their little quest to rally a god. Anything. They needed something, anything, to just help them get past the next few hours.
And, then, the worst thing possible happened.
Calico Jack watched in horror as a straight shot came right at them, right at the hull of the Revenge, just below his feet. A cannonball crashed right into the captain's quarters below him with a terrible thump, followed by and second and a third. And Calico Jack, standing there, atop the poop deck, had watched each and every one of them blast through the wood and into the quarters below, unable to do anything to stop them.
The deck shook and trembled under his feet, but not so much as Calico Jack did in his own boots. "Anne..."
Calico Jack leapt over the railing to the main deck below. There was confusion all about as more perfectly aimed cannonfire shattered through the gun gallery, killing so many of his men instantly. There was even more confusion when the first mortar struck beneath the waterline, sending a flood of sea water into the holds below. But those who had seen the metal orbs plunge through the captain's quarters where frozen in place in horror.
The doors to the quarters had been ripped clean of their hinges, as if blasted out by the sheer force of impact. The great wooden things were wedged at an awkward angle, not giving under the captain's clawing hands.
However, there was just enough of a gap there for Calico Jack to peer inside, ignoring the chaos and booms of the cannons all around him from two ships. The room had been torn apart and scattered by all three blasts. Much of the light in the room now came from the three, great holes in the side of the ship, allowing sunlight to pour in. However, a bit of light came from where a lantern had been knocked down and the fuel still burnt over a fallen timber. He tried to push past the sounds of his own men screaming, listening into the room for Anne's voice, or any sign of her.
"Anne, answer me!" he growled sternly, knowing if she heard, the woman would know to reply with that tone of voice and the seriousness of it.
No reply came.
"Anne!"
One of the crewman called from beside him. "Cap'n, she's taking on water."
Calico Jack ignored him, still ripping at the door, trying to pry and shake it free of its place and the remaining hinge, screaming the whole time for his bride. "Anne!"
The pirate grabbed his captain's arm. "Cap'n, we have to abandon ship, now"
"I don't give a damn!" Rackham snarled bitterly in the man's face, but, upon seeing the fear in his mans eyes, Calico Jack softened slightly. He had led his to the very pit of hell; he couldn't fault them for wanting to try and make a go at escaping Beckett's men for the jungle. "You lot go. I'm not leaving her. I won't."
"Cap'n?"
"Ye heard me. Abandon ship." Calico Jack returned his attention to the door, screaming for his wife. "Anne! Answer me, god damnit!"
He ignored the shouts of the crew behind him. "Abandon ship!"
"Anne!"
xxxx
"Hrmph. Leave it to pirates to give up before we have had any fun."
Norrington didn't like the delight in Beckett's voice. Calico Jack and his crew had given a valiant, last ditch effort to try to curtail Beckett's advance on the island and on the home of this god. It was a good effort, even if it were a completely futile one. Beckett had been sure to stock the brigantine to keep it from ever being out gunned by any ship on the Caribbean. The Revenge was no exception. But Beckett took far too much pleasure in such an easy win. There was no honor in this battle, none at all in any sense of the word.
Still, even as the crew of the Herald Mark laughed and taunted the men of the Revenge as they swam ashore and bolted for the jungle, Norrington just stared at the floundering ship. He ignored the haughty bellows of his crew, and just watched. What a pity it had been that his men worked so well, so swift. Norrington hadn't had the time to even try to rally a boarding party before they began to bring the great pirate ship low. What a pity Norrington knew that the Revenge would never be salvageable.
Beckett grinned from ear to ear. "Excellent work, Captain Norrington."
The privateer gave a harsh sniff as the Revenge listed forward, going down by the bow and slipping below the surface. The pirate ship took on water swiftly now, but it seemed like all with their lives had deserted it in favor of the jungles.
"To finish the task?" Beckett said, with a raised eyebrow.
Norrington looked to him. "The Revenge is done for."
"I want her men dead as a doornail."
The privateer looked to the towering spires of the great fortress above them, and the sharply rising hill leading up to it. Somewhere, in the lush jungle of the island, the men of the Revenge had fled. This was a necessary act. They had to ensure there was no chance for the pirates to regroup and try to take them from the high ground of the great, white towers.
"Aye, sir."
xxxx
They galloped uphill as fast as the horse could take them, but, with that incline, the weight of two riders, and all its injuries, the ebony steed struggled to claw at the earth and the slick mud. He snorted with the effort to take each and every stride up the hill to the home of Hel. Sweat lathered on his straining muscles, mixing with his own blood. His ears flattened down and back, pressing almost to his neck. The horse didn't feel like he would ever make it.
But, still, Sygne urged the great horse on, giving him a squeeze of the legs here and there. She and Elizabeth leaned forward together, trying to coax even the slightest bit of speed out of the horse. Elizabeth knew Sygne would just keep on going, even in the horse died underneath her mid-gallop. Sygne had to get to her lady, relay the information necessary, and return to try to save whatever women were left of her warriors. Her desperation was apparently for miles around.
They ignored the gunshots below and the screams. But what was hard to ignore, was the terrifying booms of the cannons. One of the ships must have come into contact with Beckett's men. Probably, with any luck, it was the Revenge.
But, then, there came a dark stillness to the world.
Elizabeth breathed into Sygne's ear. "Stop, stop."
The warrior pulled up the horse, swinging him about in a great, wide circle until they faced the near vertical downhill pitch. The jungle spread out there, before them, put, amid the patches of holes at the canopy, the blue of the waters of the sea below them could be seen. Elizabeth squinted her eyes, trying to look past the trees and leaves, to focus on the tiny bay below them. And, then, she saw it.
"Oh, god," Elizabeth whispered, her heart falling.
The Revenge had almost completely sunk beneath the waves. The water had risen up to the portholes of the gun gallery. And the pirates of her crew, Anne Bonney and Calico Jack Rackham included, were no where to be seen. But Beckett's ship still looked as fresh and battle ready as ever, as if the pirates had barely put a scratch in her paint.
Sygne barely seemed move by it. "They died an honorable and worthy death. Any of us should be so lucky." The warrior glanced uphill. "We need to keep moving."
"Sygne... the pirates... our friends. We have to try to help them."
The warrior looked down, shaking her head glumly. "We cannot afford such time. They knew going into this endeavor that this was a distinctive possibility."
"But..."
Elizabeth didn't have a chance to argue anymore. The remaining floating ship seemed to have turned its attention to the island now. The cannons boomed and echoed in the stillness of the jungle around them with awful death knolls for the island and its lady. And, to Elizabeth's great horror, the metal orbs were aimed uphill, right at them.
Elizabeth wouldn't argue anymore, shouting, "Go, go, go!"
xxxx
The door finally gave, its last hinges ripping from off of the framing, and just in time. The water lapped about Calico Jack's ankles, warm and welcoming. He hadn't thought the damage to the Revenge had been so bad, not bad enough to sink the mighty pirate ship. But, as she took on water that quickly, the Revenge was done for good.
But Anne.
The room was a shamble, with furniture tossed and scattered about. The fire had spread across another timber, flickering, snapping and popping. Papers and books began to float over the wooden floor. Bookshelves had toppled over. Everything had been destroyed and ruined in one instant.
"Anne..." he breathed.
A hand, pale, delicate and tiny seemed, stuck out from under a pile of broken wood that vaguely resembled a table and chairs. It was still and fragile looking. And it was so deathly still.
"Anne..."
xxxx
Will ran to Barbossa's side, watching the water as the Flying Dutchman and the shadow of the kraken trailed just behind the sloop. El Cazador had been carried quite swiftly through the sea, but it didn't seem to be quite nearly fast enough. The slight hump in the water kept pace, still chasing them.
"LIGHTEN THE LOAD! IF WE DON'T NEED IT, IT DON'T NEED TO BE ABOARD!" Barbossa barked to the entire crew. "Lose the excess weight!"
The men were tossing anything and everything overboard, except for the cannons and kegs. Will watched as rope, chain, line, furniture, food, and everything else went splashing into the water. They were urging the sloop faster and faster, dumping everything that wasn't nailed down, and some things that were. It was an all too familiar sight from not too terribly long ago. And, even now, Will didn't think that plan would work too well.
He gripped the pistol, climbing up a rung of the rigging, and shouted over top of everything. "No! Come about! Hard to starboard!"
"What makes ye think yer cap'n o' this vessel?" Barbossa asked.
Will shook his head. "I'm not a captain, but I'm tired of running. And we can't outrun this thing. It'll come after us, and keep coming until we're dead. It won't stop until Davy Jones has the heart." The blacksmith pointed to the growing hump of water, now curling with a slight wave as the creature came closer the surface. "That thing, needs to die, and I'm going to kill it."
"Have ye gone daft?" Barbossa called.
But it was Cotton's parrot, squawking over the fear. "Dead men tell no tales."
The crew glanced to one another and, then, to Barbossa as he sighed and gave a quick shrug. "Ye heard the whelp. Come about hard to starboard. Load and ready cannons! Get whatever sharp an' pointy thing ye can and brace for all hell!"
Will gave a half-hearted smile. "Ye heard him- move!"
xxxx
A/N: Alas, a little short, but I have to go to work.
By and by- get your pirate lingo ready! Tuesday is International Talk Like A Pirate Day, YARR!