Chapter 22: 1727 Prisoners: Caith
Time chugged along and neither Jack nor Caithleen were able to tell if it had been days or weeks since Mercer's men had dragged them off the "Wicked Wench" to lock them up within a cell at the garrison near the port. To their surprise, their journey did not end in a dirty and draughty cell down in the dungeons, but within a small and rather clean little chamber with a bed with clean sheets, with acceptable provision and with a barred window granting them a wide view over the open ocean, at the bay and at their ship.
Neither of them cherished an illusion about their current situation as both of them knew just all too well the purpose behind this scheme and also that it would be just a question of time till being caged like this would begin to wear them out.
It was obvious that Beckett had given Mercer plenty of rope in their case and Jack had no doubt that their momentarily still rather comfortable confinement would experience a sudden turn as soon as Beckett would arrive at the garrison.
Caith turned her back on the window and downed a mug of water, then, closing her eyes for a moment, she inhaled a deep breath and said: "None of this makes sense. What does Beckett aim to achieve with keeping us prisoners up here and the crew down in the dungeons? In the end, he's not after the men, but after us, right? And what's all the time and effort for? He's going to kill us anyway, true or not? Why this rather snug room, the food, the drink, the bathtub every couple of days?"
"Well, one thing's for sure, love, before he's going to kill us, he'll try to make us tell him, on which of the many godforsaken little islands all around the Caribbean we set the poor devils free he wanted to sell into slavery. As long as he thinks, he can buy our loyalty back, he'll keep us alive. What do you think, why the 'Wench' is still dragging down within the bay? It's the bait he wants to lure us with and, maybe, we should strike a bargain with him."
"What?"
He dragged her down on the edge of the bed beside him and went on: "Yes, why not? It will buy us time, Caith! As soon as we're back aboard, we can make things work in our favour again. It's all just about the opportune moment."
"It is, Jack, but how will you make things work in our favour, if they'd not turn out the way you'd expect them to? Beckett might be arrogant and self-centred, but he isn't half-baked! Do you really think, he'd take both of us aboard?"
"If he wants me to tell him the bearings of that island - yes. He's greedy, love, it's the 'Black Gold' he's interested in, the 'Good Business', and if he'd sense the slightest chance to get this cargo back we robbed him of, he'd forget about everything. He knows, we're the only key to his treasure chest and if we play along carefully for a while, it'll be all just about the right lever."
Caith leaned back against the wall, her expression all thoughtful and sceptical when she replied: "It's all about the right lever, indeed. We hold one against him and he holds two or even three against us."
"What do you mean?"
"He holds our ship against us, our freedom and us, Jack, and I fear, it won't be enough what we can throw in to balance it."
Jack crawled over to her and placed his hands on her shoulders. He locked eyes with hers and said wholeheartedly convinced about being able to make it happen: "I'll get us out of here, love, I promise."
They were still fast asleep and held each other within a tight embrace, when the cell door got pushed open, the next morning, and Mercer's motionless face appeared under the door frame: "I'm sorry to interrupt your little idyll, but Lord Beckett arrived during the night and he has an overwhelming desire to see you, Mister Sparrow! Now! So, I suggest, we won't let him wait!"
Jack blinked to get his eyes accustomed to the morning light soaking in through the window: "Why's he in such a hurry? Have a look around, mate, it's not that we'll run away or vanish into thin air, aye?"
"I guess, you forgot that this is not about your personal pleasure, captain, but solely about your head and the head of young Miss Stevens! So, you might find out, soon, that wasting Lord Beckett's time won't be the right means to make things work in your favour." He waved for the guards to enter and added: "Make sure, Mister Sparrow won't miss his appointment with Lord Beckett. He might be easier to convince to take this matter seriously if he comes to understand that while he'll have to explain himself and his actions to Lord Beckett, Miss Stevens will have to do the same with me."
Struggling under the guards' firm grip, Jack shot him a glare: "Dare touching her and I'll have your head for it, Mercer!"
"It'll all depend on your answers to our questions, but you're to be honoured for your concern about Miss Stevens! Let me assure you, she'll have my whole and undivided attention. And now, take him away!"
The door got slammed shut as the guards left, dragging Jack with them, and Caithleen remained alone with Mercer.
He beheld her with an icy look out of adamant eyes, still surprised, though, that she seemed to be able to withstand his gaze effortlessly. Therefore he cleared his throat and told her frankly: "Seems, it won't be necessary to beat about the bush, am I right? You seem to be made of the same material like your mother."
"What dealings could you have had with my mother?" Caith asked, staring at him out of narrowed eyes: "You're hardly the kind of man she'd invite for a drink!"
"She didn't, but I still had the mixed blessing to get in touch with your mother, a while ago. It was in Port Royal. Shortly after you and Mister Sparrow handed her over to the governor. During a number of interrogations." His eyes scanned her face and it did not escape him when a slight twitch of her cheek gave away her inner strain. So, he went on: "This kind of business is no fun, at all, but she was quite tough and held out for a very long time. Unfortunately, she wasn't willing or able to tell me what I wanted to know."
"You might have asked her the wrong questions, then."
"The East India is tired of having to deal with piracy, Miss Stevens. So, I tried to sound your mother out if she'd be able to tell me something about the pirate lords and the most important hideouts of your plundering and pillaging kind."
Caithleen replied with a forced grin: "She always sailed on her own account. We had no dealings with the pirate lords and their hidden fortresses."
"Why do I doubt this?"
"Maybe, because you're afraid of not being in the know about what's lurking out there at the open ocean and of not being in the know about how many of us really still sail under the skull and crossbones."
"That's almost the same what your mother told me. Aren't you afraid of what measures I could take to make you tell me what I want to know?"
Caithleen was filled with scorn when she spit out in front of his feet. "Go to hell, Mercer!"
She was prepared for the slap but not for it's vehemency: "That was the wrong answer, Miss Stevens! I suggest, you'll get dressed and we'll go and change the environment!"
He called for the guard to open the door and said: "Send the maids in. They shall take care of Miss Stevens to get dressed up properly."
Caithleen got pushed into a fireplace room. Not as spacious and impressive as the ones at Sir Edwin's mansion or at Lord Reginald's, but still big enough to provide space for a writing desk, a number of shelves, a broad divan and a dining table.
She tried hard to hide her surprise as this was neither an interrogation chamber down at the dungeons nor a torture chamber and she asked herself if this room was the reason why the maids had been ordered to dress her up in a laced-up dress exposing her shoulders and her female attractions in a way, she did not feel comfortable with.
But why would Beckett's henchman make such a fuss about her, if he could easily put her on the rack?
She guessed, she'd get the answer rather sooner than later.
Mercer looked up when the door got closed and he seemed to be quite satisfied with the way she looked: "One could almost take you for a woman, dressed up this way, and not for the little bilge rat you actually are."
"I'm not here because you want to discuss my female attractions, right? So, as you said earlier, today, there's no reason to beat about the bush. I'm here, because Beckett expects you to make me give away the bearings of the isle on which we set the slaves free he wanted to sell, true or not?"
"True!"
"If you'd have asked me, I'd have told you, that I'm not going to sell those poor devils out. Come to terms with it, they are free, now."
"They are, without any doubt! And you're not afraid of the possibility that you could have traded your freedom in for the freedom of those slaves?"
"You locked Jack and me up in a cell. What could be worse for someone who loves his or her freedom?"
"Oh, do not underestimate us, Miss Stevens, we have quite a number of ways to rob your of your freedom. Locking you up within a cell is just one of them." He got up and walked over to her beholding her from her head down to her toes and back, then he said with a suggestive smile: "Did you not ask yourself, why I had the maids dress you up like this? It suits you well and I almost understand why Sparrow seems to be so crazy about you. I'm sure, he'd not like the thought of sharing you, am I right?" He smiled when he noticed her eyes widen in sudden awareness and went on: "I see, you get me right, now! Well, let me answer your question, then. In case, your foolhardy lover won't answer Lord Beckett's questions the way we expect him to answer them, he'll be sent over to the colonies and sold into slavery instead of the cargo you two set free so recklessly. And you, Miss Stevens...I'm sure, we'll find the proper establishment for you as well. Oh, and I'm also sure, I'm in the know of the right person to render you such services."
He turned round and asked in the direction of a small adjoining room: "What do you think, Captain Batiste, will you enjoy rendering her such services?"
Caithleen closed her eyes when Henry Batiste stepped out of the room. It took her all her strength to keep herself upright when he sashayed over to them devouring her greedily with his unashamed looks and when he told her: "Never thought, I'd see you again when I left you to die aboard the 'Wing' back then, little wench, but looking at you, now, I'm really glad you made it." Turning towards Mercer, he added: "No need to ask, Sir, it'll be fun to render her such services. I already promised her to break her in when I came across her, last time."
"Having switched sides again, Batiste", Caithleen spat: "Or did you finally figure out where your allegiance lies? I guess, you did not tell our friend over there that you had been one of the captains who had dealings behind the back of the East India Trading Company and who sidelined whole shiploads to sell them on their own behalf." She smirked when she saw him wince: "Oh, what's this? You did not tell him? What a shame. You were lucky that Jack and I lost the 'Wing' in a sea-fight and that old Lord Reginald passed away too early, but as it seems, your new benefactors are as rotten as you are..."
"Women like you should not use their pretty heads for thinking", Batiste replied grabbing her with her chin: "I thought, you'd know better after your mother ended up at the gallows, but worry not, little whore, when I'm done with you, you will know better."
"You see, Miss Stevens, we have quite different ways to rob you of your freedom. The choice is still yours", Caith heard Mercer from behind her.
She freed herself from Batiste's touch and turned her head round to look a Beckett's right hand with a grin: "Maybe, you're right and it's time to clear some faults." Turning her gaze back at Batiste, she added locking eyes with his: "I remember, you once told me that your qualities as a captain only get outmatched by your qualities between the legs of a beautiful lady. Let's find out if you're really the man, you claim to be. You have me all curious. If you really want to sell my to the next brothel, there's surely a lot you're able to teach me..." She grabbed him with the collar of his shirt and pulled him into a passionate kiss, fierce and demanding, while pushing him over to the divan - step by step. His eyes flashed open all caught in surprise when she had her hand running down his neck, chest and back until she let it rest on his hip, denying him the touch he seemed to long for.
"You've no idea, lass", he moaned next to her ear: "I'll make sure, you'll make me your regular..."
Caith let it happen that he dragged her with him when he dropped down on the divan and when he placed her on his lap, eagerly pushing her skirts aside.
She let it happen that his fingers fumbled with the laces of her dress and with the gentle roundings of her breasts her dress let him reach, before she pulled him into another kiss deepening it with every new reaction she was able to coax out of him. She heard him groan when she had her hands play with his belt before she opened it and she saw him tremble under her kiss and touch when he got aware of what she was going to do.
"With kind regards from Jack Sparrow and Caith Stevens, bastard", she whispered when she felt him relax under her embrace and when she pulled the small dagger back she had stolen from his belt and which she had pushed through his ribs straight to his heart, then, getting up and turning round, she said: "And now, Mister Mercer, let's discuss the definition of freedom again."
She dropped the dagger knowing she would not stand a chance against the guards Mercer called for, now, while staring at her in a mixture of surprise and reluctant admiration, but having been able to settle her open score with Batiste felt more than satisfying.
Cutler Beckett looked at Caith attentively and in a mix of fascination and animosity when the guards let the shackles snap round her wrists. He didn't say a word, at first, but it was obvious that he enjoyed the moment when Jack Sparrow and Caithleen Stevens got aware that they were meant to witness each others interrogations.
He had no idea if the young woman who used to accompany the fleet's best captain on his journeys was really as tough and strong as she tried to appear, but after having gotten informed by Mercer how she got rid of that privateer, Henry Batiste, he decided better not to underestimate her and so he addressed her tried to sound as uninvolved as possible: "I'm not sure, if I should award or punish you for having robbed me of one of my privateers, Miss Stevens, but if it is true what you told dear Mister Mercer here, I should not mourn the loss of a captain who sidelined freight and money in order to betray the company. I guess, we agree about this. But let me ask you, if you deemed Batiste worthy to die, what about you and Sparrow, then? After all, you two robbed me of a profitable bargain as well, isn't that true?"
Jack and Caithleen exchanged a deep look over the full length of the room and she signalled him not to get involved, shaking her head barely noticeable as she replied: "You will barely be able to accuse us of having pocketed a single penny of this supposed profitable bargain, won't you?"
"Unfortunately, that is true! But having you keep us company, now, might be helpful with bringing this exasperating issue to an end. Mister Sparrow might finally feel a little more inclined to answer my questions concerning my cargo knowing you to be my perfect pawn to hold him to ransom with. So, if one of you would be so kind to finally give us the bearings of that little island. You would spare us all a lot of time and yourself a lot of pain."
Caith shook her head, eyes still locked with Jack's and replied: "No!"
"Well, then, Miss Stevens, do not say I didn't try, but as you prefer to remain silent, it seems it will need other and more effective means to bring you to terms. A handful of lashes should do for now to make you reconsider your answer. Mister Mercer, she's all yours."
She did not scream, when the lashes tore her dress into shreds and when they met her skin, but she bit her lips until they were bleeding and buried her fingernails that deep within her palms that blood ran down her wrists. Her gaze still held Jack's and she knew he understood what she tried to tell him: 'As hard as it must be to look on helplessly, do not interfere!'
She panted for air when it was over and it was through a veil of pain and restrained screams and tears only that she heard Beckett address her again: "You're the true daughter of your mother, Miss Stevens, but what for, I wonder? To protect a cargo of slaves? Barely! You try to protect someone else and I'd almost place a bet that your true reasons to endure this punishment are of a way more fleshly nature. Am I right? Oh, of course, I am! But let me think it over for a moment. If you're really willing to protect our young pirate captain over there that strenuously, what does it make you, then...?"
It was within this moment that Mercer strained a white-hot branding iron to her shoulder...and everything around her turned silent and black...
When Caithleen regained consciousness, it was not Jack who sat by her side, but Ian Mercer, leering at her salaciously and telling her: "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Miss Stevens, but Captain Sparrow is still otherwise engaged. For the time being, you'll have to be satisfied with me and I'll try my best to render you all the services, Batiste failed to render you..."