It was as if nothing had changed. The British flag flew over the parapets of Fort Charles and uniformed marines patrolled the streets, bayonets resting over their shoulders. Men in frocks and women in floral dresses and lacy robes a la française walked arm in arm, taking in the warm day.
Norrington didn't know if he would be recognized sans uniform and wig, but Jack Sparrow certainly would be. Having anchored the Pearl out of sight farther down the beach, they'd taken the longboat ashore and now spied on the people of Port Royal, preparing their first move.
"I don't suppose it's underestimation to assume you don't have a plan," Norrington muttered.
"I take offense at that," Jack said.
Norrington rolled his eyes.
A moment passed in which Jack divulged no plan so Norrington said, "Well?"
"It'll come to me."
It took every ounce of willpower Norrington had not to strangle him.
"The treasury," Norrington said. "We'll have to rob the treasury." His words were heavy but it was the most secure place he could think of where the Sword might be.
But Jack shook his head. "It won't be there."
"How do you know?"
Jack sighed. "Because the treasury's the first place anyone looking to steal it would search. So it stands to reason they'd hide it in a location we wouldn't think of."
"Well we can't very well search the whole of Port Royal and hope we get lucky."
A couple of marines were coming their way. Norrington and Jack retreated down a narrow street to let them pass. Norrington gritted his teeth. There was no way he'd go long without being seen. Definitely not in the company of Jack Sparrow, he thought, noticing the wanted poster on the side of a building.
But it was the only plan they had. It was either this or wait around for the curse to catch up to him, give themselves up to Jolly Roger. That wasn't an option.
They kept to the shadows and moved farther from the beach. If anything, it seemed like security had been tightened since Norrington was last here. They would have received word by now of the armada's defeat by the pirates.
Marines guarded the entrance to the East India Company offices and he was thinking with some regret how they would likely not succeed with a stealthy approach when a squad of marines came trotting up the street.
"Perhaps we should return to the Pearl," Norrington said. "Figure out a plan of action there." He turned to see several marines coming straight for them. And opposite down the street were more.
"I think it's too late for that," Jack said.
The marines blocked any avenue of escape and there was no use trying to fight them. They were outnumbered twenty-to-two. An array of bayonets pointed at them and Norrington grudgingly raised his hands in surrender.
"I suppose a parley is out of the question?" Jack said.
Norrington rolled his eyes.
Manacled and with their weapons confiscated, Jack and Norrington were marched down the streets of Port Royal. It wasn't the sort of homecoming he'd have expected. He only hoped the Black Pearl hadn't been discovered yet as Jack's crew were likely their only hope. Which wasn't saying much. It was doubtful they would go out of their way to save Norrington and by this point, he wasn't sure if they'd even risk their necks for Jack. In all likelihood, they were on their own.
Norrington realized something was wrong when the marines didn't take them to the prison for holding. They were heading for the East India offices, which didn't make any sense. With Beckett out of the picture, the EITC would have little authority enforcing the law or in naval affairs.
A niggling sense of unease wormed its way inside him. He thought back to the wreckage of the Endeavour. He hadn't found Beckett's body but that wasn't strange at all. It could have been eaten or washed away. Its absence and the Sword not being with the Endeavour didn't mean anything.
The door to the office opened and Norrington and Jack were shoved inside.
Norrington's breath caught in his throat as he spotted the figure sitting behind the desk.
"So you're alive," the figure said.
Jack looked a little pale. "Well this certainly complicates things," he managed to get out.
Lord Cutler Beckett looked calmly back at them with that calculating gaze Norrington had learned to hate.
"How…?" This couldn't be real. He was dead. And yet so was Norrington, technically. Come to think of it, many of his adversaries had failed to stay dead or to die at all. And yet for some reason, seeing Beckett here now, alive, was simply too much to take in.
"It's a wonder what a little cursed gold can achieve," Beckett said. "Best not to leave anything to chance."
Anger swelled in Norrington's chest. He couldn't help but think of all the people who had died because of Beckett and how he had tried to place himself above those he'd tried to eliminate. It seemed he would stoop as low as he needed to get what he wanted.
"You knew we'd be here." Which meant he'd know about the Pearl. He probably had men searching for her right now and he hoped she'd managed to get away.
"I make a point of keeping tabs on my enemies." Beckett pushed his chair back and stood, walking around the desk.
"So I'm your enemy now?"
"You're consorting with pirates, Mr. Norrington." Beckett walked over to a chest that sat in one corner of the office.
Hypocrite.
"It's not very fun, that curse," Jack said.
Beckett flipped the clasps on the chest. "Nor is your own, I suspect."
Norrington was too good at keeping his composure to let Beckett see the shock he felt at his words. The skin all up his forearm tingled almost constantly now and he could feel it spreading inside him. He wasn't sure how much time he had left.
Beckett opened the chest. "Yes, I know about the curse. I also know the one object that can end it." Straightening, he held a sword in both hands. Its blade gleamed gold in the lamplight.
"I would imagine one gets tired of being pursued," Beckett said. "First Davy Jones and then Jolly Roger. Round and round. You can't run forever, Jack."
"Says you," Jack retorted.
Beckett's lip twitched in the faintest hint of a smirk. "Have you run out of witty quips?"
"I assume we're here so you can gloat," Norrington said. "Otherwise it's off to Fort Charles."
"You know," Beckett said, returning the Sword of El Patron to its chest. "Jolly Roger thought he could betray me too. No doubt he figured that with the cursed sword in his possession, he would be truly invincible."
"And you couldn't have that," Norrington said.
"No."
The entire colony of Raven's Cove had paid for that.
"You were a promising officer once, Mr. Norrington. It seems death has rearranged your priorities. I'll try not to take it personally." His voice was as smooth as his gaze.
"Oh, please do," Norrington said before he could stop himself.
Beckett hid his annoyance with another smirk and moved back to the desk. "I must admit, I am partial to leaving the both of you for Jolly Roger but I have a company to rebuild and the public execution of a wanted criminal will provide a much needed boost to morale."
"You're forgetting that I can't die," Norrington said.
"Oh, I am very well aware of the fact. I'm sure I'll think of something."
"Or you could lift the curse."
"I'm afraid that's out of the question," Beckett said. "For the curse can only be lifted by killing Roger and the only thing which can kill him is the sword."
Of course. It made perfect sense. He inwardly cringed, wondering for the thousandth time what the world had come to that this was his life now, in which these sorts of things made sense.
Four marines led Jack and Norrington out of Beckett's office and the last glimpse they had of him was as he returned to the tea which sat on one corner of his desk. He was back in control and there was nothing they could do about that.
Norrington had escaped arrest before, when he'd resigned his commission and sailed off to Tortuga, so this was his first time in prison. It was dank and lit only by the windows which looked out over the bay. The bars in them cast long shadows along the floor of his cell which was made of stone and with a mat of straw to sleep on. Needless to say, he hadn't slept at all during the night. Hell, he wasn't even sure if he needed sleep any more than he needed to breathe under the curse's influence.
When they'd been imprisoned the previous day, Jack had been taken to another cell on the other side of the prison, probably to keep them from conspiring. As if that would have done much good.
There had been no commotion during the night so he assumed the Pearl had gotten away. Good for them.
Norrington leaned his head back against the wall beneath the window and rested his arm on one bent knee. There was a strange smell coming from somewhere though he couldn't quite place it. He was reminded of his time in Tortuga though he had made a considerable effort to never think of it again. Shame washed over him. That entire time was masked by an alcohol-infused haze but what parts of it he could remember were startlingly clear. And it wasn't the drink that had gotten him through. It had been Elizabeth.
He'd thought of her during the worst nights then just as he thought of her now. In Tortuga, he'd lamented losing her and had resented Will for earning her love, a feat which he had tried but never managed. Now he just hoped she was happy though he regretted that he would never see her again. Perhaps it was for the best though.
He wondered if it would hurt, when the change came over him completely, when he became one of them, one of Jolly's crew. He wondered if he'd even retain his mind when that time came and he let out a shuddering breath, contemplating it. He'd rather die than become one of those repulsive creatures, but even that option had been taken away from him.
Outside, drums began to roll, signaling the start of an execution.
