Chapter 13: 1719 The Neptune's Bride
The storm came over the „Eagle's Wing" and her crew like out of the nothingness and hit her just when she had already been too far away from all those ports which could have granted her shelter. She was out at the open ocean, when the heavy weather broke loose and she was nothing else but a toy amidst the forces of nature. No one aboard, not even a very well skilled old salt like the first mate Jacobsen, had been prepared for such a tremendous storm. Not within these waters, not within this season and not at this point of time.
Water spilled the "Wing" and her crew coming out of every direction when the swell let the waves crush on deck. Rain fell that dense that it was barely possible for the men to spot their own hands while fighting for their ship. It was dark as if it was the deepest new moon night and not even the uncountable lanterns hanging all around the deck were able to spend enough light to soak this stormy afternoon.
Below, the men fought stout-hearted but the same desperate to secure and save the goods having been stuffed within the freight room from possible water inrush. They tried to seal every leak and every hatch they were able to find and within the galley the ship's cook had abandoned every attempt on trying to prepare a proper meal.
Some of the men tried to fasten those ropes which cut loose due to the storm using their last strength and a handful of foolhardy sailors just wanted to climb up the shrouds to reef the sails when Jacobsen went up to the deck. He did not need long to get what was going on and what the men had in mind. That was why he yelled against the storm: "Are you mad, you blasted landlubbers? Out of the rigging, boys! Or are you curious how it feels to get smashed on the deck? Leave the sails! It's easier to renew them than your bones! That's an order, mates! C'mon, your hands are needed below! Go and help save the freight!"
"Aye, Sir!"
Being totally exhausted and soaked to the skin the men did like ordered and went below to give their comrades a helping hand while Jacobsen jumped up the stairs leading to the helm.
There he found Caithleen.
The storm tore at her bandana and she was wetted through like all of them. Rain spilled her face and her clothes stuck to her skin barely able to hide her female attractions. Her hands kept the helm within a firm grip, but they were already white due to the strain. She tried in vain to bury her bare feet deeper into the ship's planks and it had just been by chance that she even got Jacobsen when he appeared up at the helm: "Tell me, lass, how long is it since you took the helm?"
"I relieved Jack about two hours ago!" She had to yell to drown out the storm.
"Then make haste, lass, get below. Otherwise, I fear you will meet your end! I'll take the helm." Jacobsen waved her to leave and she nodded.
Before she went down the stairs she said: "If we won't be able to find a hideout, soon, all your concern about the men and me will be in vain." She pointed at the masts and the canvas aching and moaning as if they would burst and break within the next wink of an eye when another gust swelled and caught the sails: "Have a look! The sails are more or less just tattered pieces of cloth only. We won't get anywhere else with them if we won't find shelter."
"Aye! You're right, lass, but there is not much shelter to find within these waters."
The same moment something different caught their attention. An eerie green shimmer started to sneak down the masts. Weird and scary like sent from another world.
"Saint Elmo's Fire!" Jacobsen execrated and crossed himself: "That's exactly the last thing we needed. Fortunately, most of the men are busy with the freight. A crew of superstitious landlubbers would be my death at the moment, I fear."
"I agree!" Caithleen said: "Hold the line, Mister Jacobsen. I'll make a try to find out if Jack found a place where we can hole up."
"Tell him he shall hurry, lass. Otherwise, we will all end up at Davy Jones' Locker, tonight."
Caithleen nodded. She left the helm to the knaggy but good-natured sailor without hesitating and stumbled over deck to reach the chart room and the captain's cabin without getting thrown overboard. A new wave of seawater spilled her just before she was able to slam the door shut behind her and she entered the chart room with a curse upon her lips. She shook the water out of her hair and wiped it out of her eyes.
Jack raised his head when she stumbled in. Still wet like a cat, too, he had enwrapped himself in a blanket and he pointed at a second one lying in a niche behind him. Caithleen grinned and grasped for it to wrap herself in, then she had a look over his shoulder at the charts in front of him on the table.
"Any idea where to hide?" Caithleen's voice sounded tired.
"There must be a little island somewhere in these waters. As far as I can remember it comes with a freshwater well and a small but well sheltered bay. All I ask myself at the moment is, though, if our current position is really the one our compass wants to make us believe it is."
"What?"
"If our position is correct, we should be able to find this little island soon. We can only hope not to miss its bearings."
"If we miss it we will end up at Davy Jones' Locker. No doubt about that."
Caithleen reached out for one of the rum bottles and took a deep draft of that brown swill. She tried hard not to grimace and Jack beheld her with a somehow fascinated mien, tried to hide his broad grin.
"What's that funny?" Caithleen glared at him with sparkling eyes.
"Not the thing itself, love. It's you, sweet", Jack responded and got up to wrap his arms round her: "It's the way you're standing there in the middle of this room, dripping wet, wrapped in a flimsy old blanket, a bottle of rum in your hand and totally at pains not to agitate. Really, love, it's a sight to behold."
"I understand! Well then, if it causes you so much pleasure to act the captain in a night like this you should return to deck and relief Jacobsen from the helm! I'm convinced, he would not refuse this favor!"
"Why not?" Jack smirked: "Have I never told you that I reportedly got born aboard a ship? During a night like this? Out at the open ocean? Midst a Typhoon?"
"You didn't!" Caithleen replied: "But", she beheld him from his wet bandana down to his boots: "if it's true, it explains a lot."
"Aye! Glad you agree to this, love. It's exactly what I thought about this story." He grasped her with her chin and looked straight into her eyes: "Name me foolish, name me venturous or name me whatever you want to. I don't mind. Maybe, it's true what my father always told me and I'm crazy, but if it's true it is me being crazy for you, Caithleen Stevens and if we'll end up at Davy Jones' Locker one thing, for sure, is true: We will end up there together. Savvy?"
He covered her lips with his and she leaned in on him and his embrace. His closeness and the warmth his body gave off were all welcome. Just when he wanted to free her from the blanket they both heard the scream coming out of the crow's nest: "Land ho!"
Jack stopped short: "What the hell is that fool doing up there?"
"Don't look at me! I've nothing to do with it. I'd never have sent him up there. But, maybe, we already found what we never had in mind to search for..."
"C'mon, love, let's have a look at what's going on up there..."
The closer the "Eagle's Wing" got to the isle and the narrow bay where she wanted to seek shelter, the more obvious it got that she and her crew would not be the only ones, who wanted to take refuge there during this stormy night. The rain fell still down as dense as before and due to this the lanterns of another ship already anchoring within the bay were hard to spot. But it was no hallucination, it was another ship. When the "Wing" got alongside the strange sailor, her crew was finally able to behold the figurehead at the bow of their involuntarily neighbours: It was the image of a woman wearing a waving raiment, her head with its loose hair got adorned with a crown made of shells and within her hand she carried a trident.
Caithleen grabbed the spyglass even though it meant no help within a night like this. She had a look through, blinked for several times, rubbed her eyes and had another look through. Confused and puzzled she then stared at the gorgeous galleon.
"Something wrong, love?" Jack followed her gaze and tried to find an explanation for her sudden silence.
"No reason to worry about. It's just, I did not come across this vessel for about a decade. I never expected to see it ever again. Not within my lifetime."
"Why? Under whose colours does it sail?"
"It's the 'Neptune's Bride' and when I saw her the last time, she sailed under the colours of Captain Jeffrey Stevens!"
"Stevens?" Jacobsen gazed at her inquiringly.
"Stevens! Aye, Mister Jacobsen. You got me right. The 'Bride' is the proud vessel of my dear uncle. But it's difficult to say, if he's still the captain. Since my father and my uncle decided to sail in different waters, we neither heard anything about him or his ship nor did we get to see the smallest spot of him or his vessel. It would not surprise me, if she'd not belong to him any more."
"Tell me if I'm right or wrong, love. Following your words and the way you behold this proud vessel, I assume, you're not happy to see it again, eh?" Jack let his gaze wander between Caithleen and the impressive three-master anchoring right in reach.
"Happy?" Caithleen shrugged: "My father and my uncle had more than once been of a different opinion if it came to how to capture and plunder a ship. My father was convinced that Jeffrey used to hoist the red flag much too often and you all know what hoisting the red flag means, right?"
"He gave no quarter and he took no prisoners." Jacobsen replied.
"Yes! He gave no quarter and he took no prisoners. My father always said, it is enough to plunder a vessel and because they never came to terms about it, they went on on separated paths and never came across each other again."
"To avoid scuttling each other?" Jack presumed.
"Yes. And from that day on, Jeffrey Stevens was nothing but a phantom to me."
Before they were able to talk about Jeremy and Jeffrey Stevens any further, the watch of the "Bride" called them: "Hey, you, over there! Who is it?"
"It's the 'Eagle's Wing'. Seeking shelter from the storm", Jacobsen answered: "Who are you?"
"It's the 'Neptune's Bride'. We're here for the same reason!"
"Who's your Captain?" Caithleen was glad that, due to the roaring storm, no one noticed how much her voice vibrated.
"It's Captain Stevens!" The answer came back, immediately: "Yours?"
"It's Captain Sparrow!" Jack replied blinking into the darkness.
For a while, it remained all silent aboard the "Neptune's Bride", then the flickering and dancing light of a lantern was to spot and another question reached the "Wing: "Will you grant us the pleasure of having dinner together with our captain?"
"If I'm allowed to take a companion aboard, I'm inclined to accept this offer, mate!" Jack answered.
"Take aboard whom ever you want, captain!"
"We're coming over!" Jack turned towards Jacobsen and said: "I'll take Caith with me, so, you're in charge for now, mate. Let the men take a rest, hand out some rum and remind the cook what his duties are aboard. He shall prepare a hot and spicy meal for the men, stew or soup. Anything like that." Silently he added: "And keep a sharp eye on our neighbours. Got me?"
"Aye, Captain!"
"Well then, let us lay out a plank that we can have a look at our host."
Tried not to stumble while sneaking over the plank towards the "Bride" and tried not to end up within the bay, Jack and Caithleen dared to accept the invitation. The first mate, a square built strong guy with friendly eyes, already waited for them. He reached a hand out to help Caithleen with getting aboard when recognition and a hint of pleasance got shown within his eyes: "Miss Caith? Is it really you? Oh, I never believed in seeing you again, young Miss Stevens!"
Caithleen beheld him and answered with a surprised smile: "Master Walcott! Still aboard this coffin ship? Don't tell me, you have not been able to find a better ship and a better captain after all those years?"
"My dear lass, sailing under the command of Captain Stevens was not the worst choice. But", Walcott pointed at Jack: "as I see you're not alone any more, eh?"
"My captain and my lover, Master Walcott. Jack Sparrow."
"I already thought about something like that when I got that he would take a woman aboard. Is he a good captain, at least?" Walcott gave her a wink.
"If I'm allowed to ask you something, mate, I will do so", Jack mingled in, now: "I'm not intending to damp your being happy about seeing my girl again, but as you supposedly have been able to get, up till now, it's not very inviting to stay outside with this not even small amount of rain pouring down, aye? So, all I want to ask is, if there is perhaps a much more dry place aboard your ship? At least a place a bit drier than this deck?"
"Sorry, Sir! My failure! Let me lead you to the parlour. There, it is warm and dry and you can rewarm until the captain joins you."
Walcott waved Jack and Caithleen to follow him. He led them straight to an elegant parlour which nearly let them forget that they still stayed aboard a ship.
A smooth carpet covered the parquet built from precious wood, the panelled walls were adorned with skilful made carvings and the windows got veiled with curtains made of the most expensive damask. Even a heated fireplace got added to the room spending some comforting warmth during the night. In the middle of the room stood a huge table surrounded by half a dozen chairs. A carafe filled with wine stood upon it, and so did several glasses and a bowl of fresh fruit.
Jack dropped into one of the comfortable armchairs in front of the fireplace and had a look around: "Well, as it seems your uncle knows how to lead an acceptable life, love. For sure, he's not the kind of man who squanders his prize at the next tavern or at the next brothel, am I right?"
"My father, Captain Sparrow, did not hoard up a treasure to squander it!"
The voice came from the door and it belonged, there was no doubt, to a woman. Jack as well as Caithleen turned round and stared at the young woman, each of them for different reasons, though.
"Prudence!" Caithleen's voice had a much too cool undertone to be still called affectionate.
"Caith!" The answer was not less icy.
Jack looked from one girl to the other and stopped short: "Ladies, I don't want you to get me wrong and I don't want to step in your way, if you want to start a catfight, but would you be so kind to inform me what this strange behaviour is about?"
"Oh yes, it will be my pleasure! This, Jack Sparrow, is Pruedence Stevens. Daughter of Captain Jeffrey Stevens. For her part my dear cousin. And, as it seems, the new captain of the 'Bride'. Be warned, Jack, she owns a sharp tongue."
"As well as a sharp blade!" Prudence added.
Jack beheld her totally unabashed and while doing so he searched for some likenesses between both women, but except for the name they shared nothing.
Prudence Stevens was a woman for whom the word 'beautiful' was barely adequate enough to describe her. Her well-proportioned face with its big green eyes got surrounded by long carroty hair which she wore in a loose braid and her tanned skin told him that she was used to stay in the open. She wore tight black pants, black boots reaching up till over her knees, a white shirt and a jerkin matching the colour of her eyes. In addition, a broad belt was wrapped round her waist. She did not look like a piratess, but, nevertheless, she was the captain of this vessel and she made no secret out of it.
Jack guessed her to be a couple of years older than Caithleen, maybe four, perhaps five, and it was obvious that Caith still looked much more like girl than a woman. Her untamed black curls surrounded her pretty and tanned face with its shiny grey eyes like a cloud and dressed within her pants of rough linen, within her loose shirt and with her bare feet she looked youthful and fresh.
Jack grinned: He knew it all better and he liked the idea that a lot of the guys and girls they came across used to underestimate his lass.
He sat up and looked straight into Prudence's eyes: "My dear, I've no doubt about the fact that both might be true, but I think neither your sharp tongue nor your sharp blade will be needed, tonight. Your first mate told us you wanted to have dinner together with us, so, what do you think? Aren't we all hungry?"
"No need to be that official, Sparrow! After all, you seem to use to make love to my little cousin, so, I would say, you belong to the family! More or less..." Prue laughed when she got aware that Jack lowered his gaze in abashment: "No reason to act the bashful! First, she's neither stupid nor ugly and, second, it's the truth. Am I right?"
Caithleen cleared her throat: "If you please, Prue, let's end up with it now!"
"What's wrong, Caith? I was just joking..."
"I'm not interested in this kind of jokes! But tell me: What happened? Why's the 'Bride' under your command? Did Jeffrey finally end up at Davy Jones' Locker?"
"Your uncle, my father, decided to give up piracy. He joined the brotherhood of the pirates of Madagascar and belongs to the Coast Captains, now. He still owns a ship, the 'Shark', but he has a trustable man in charge aboard, instead of still sailing it himself. Jeffrey returned to the trade he once practised."
"Ah! A respectable gunsmith then! I see! That's honourable", Caithleen taunted: "How many slaves did he sell to be able to retire?"
A dangerous shimmer could be spotted within Prudence's eyes and she prepared for a fitting response when she got distracted by another question.
"Madagascar?" Jack asked: "You don't mean this rotten pirate hideout which captains plunder and pillage without taking care of the 'Code of Morgan and Bartholomew', eh?"
"They are no worse pirates than the Council of the Brethren Court of Shipwreck Island! You should know this, Sparrow! After all, you're Captain Teague's son, aren't you?" Prudence glared at him.
"Where from do you know, love?"
"My father knows your father just all too well, believe me..."
"Well, let's say, I preferred to turn my back on my father, the island, the code and the brotherhood a couple of years ago." Jack responded with a shrug.
"Just to come across Jeremy and Rosalind Stevens? Poor boy! Did they at least manage to turn you into an honest pirate, then?"
"My father is dead!" Caithleen hissed: "The Spanish burned him and his crew alive!"
"I'm sorry to hear this, Caith, but it's what was supposed to happen to him! Your father should have sent much more of their ships down to the bottom of the sea instead of leaving them alive!"
"To end up as a Coast Captain of Madagascar as well? A creature who sells slaves to enrich himself?" Caithleen's grey eyes were sparkling belligerently.
"Brasiliano, Kidd and the others just do what most of the trading companies use to do as well!"
"Being a pirate does not mean to be a slave trader!"
"Being a pirate means to sail against all flags!"
"Yes, but sailing against all flags does not mean to sail against your beliefs!"
"Pah! Beliefs! They will not help you, if you will end up at the gallows!"
"Ladies! May I remind you that we're not here to fight each other, but because we got led here by chance and heavy weather? We've no choice, at the moment, we've to stay here until the storm will be over. And, trust me, nothing could please me more but to spend my time in the company of two such beautiful girls like you." Jack gave them both one of his most innocent smiles.
"Bravo, Caith!" Prudence said with a laugh: "You got yourself a lad, who obviously owns not only some qualities amongst the sheets, but who also knows how to use his brain. Let's have dinner, then. We can go on talking later tonight..."
About an hour later and after having had enjoyed a meal, of which neither Jack nor Caithleen would have thought about that it had been the ship's cook who prepared it, they sat together in front of the fireplace in a threesome having put aside their dispute for a while.
Prudence grasped for her glass of wine and asked thoughtfully: "Have you heard anything about the new pirate hideout a handful of pirates built up at the Bahamas? It's been told that Edward Teach settled down in Nassau to sail for his preys from its port."
"Teach? You don't mean 'Blackbeard', don't you?" Jack frowned. He had heard a lot of stories about the dreaded pirate, who even caused the most cold blooded captains naked fear. Blackbeard was known for not granting clemency to anyone and he used to attack every vessel, equal under which colours it sailed.
"He's exactly the one I mean!" Prue responded: "It seems, he wants to become a new Henry Morgan and tries to build up a new pirate state. Sounds impossible to me, if he keeps scuttling all his opponents."
"He sails from Nassau, you say? Isn't he supposed to hide a not even small amount of his treasures there as well?"
"Jack Sparrow, don't tell me, you have in mind to do what I guess you to have in mind!" Caithleen was used to his gaze when he had a new adventure in mind, but this time he would take an unreckonable risk, if he wanted to plunder Blackbeard's hideout.
"What should happen to us, love? We make sure he's out for a prey, sail into Nassau port and relieve him from everything he's not in need of, any more. Aye?"
"Are you that bold, Sparrow, or are you just mad?" Prudence seemed to neither agree to his enthusiasm nor did she understand it: "Do you have a guess what Teach will do to you, if he will ever find out who it was who plundered him?"
"Prue, love, believe me, he will not find out. Me, Caith and our beloved vessel will have vanished before he will get what will have happened to him..."