Summary: Jack's little known past catches up with him in the form of a brother. Ch. 7- In which Jack's kidnapper is revealed.
Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and all the characters therein do not belong to me. Believe me, if I owned Johnny Depp in eyeliner . . . . Gah. That man is hot.
A/N: Thank you very much to everyone who reviewed, it keeps me writing.
Captain Red Black- I'm glad it meets with your approval. I'd hate to have a shipful of pirates after me ;)
The throbbing of his head was the first thing that woke Jack, and he came to with a faint groan. He must have had some powerful stuff last night because he hadn't had a hangover like this in years. Trying to lift a hand to massage his temples, his eyes snapped open when found to his surprise that his hands were bound together by rope and he was lying on his back on the seat of a coach. Struggling ineffectually at his bonds, he finally gave up and lay still for a moment trying to get his bearings. Think, Jack, he told himself. How did you end up here?
He remembered going up to his room in the evening after getting properly sloshed at a tavern. A funny feeling had crept up on him as he'd opened the door, and he'd learned to trust his instincts so he edged quietly into the room, all senses alert. He'd caught movement out of the corner of his eye and ducked just as a large fist swung through the air where his head and been. Lashing out with his foot, he heard a groan as he scored a hit on his attacker. Preoccupied with the man in front of him, though, he had failed to notice the other one creeping up on him from behind. He recalled an impact on the back of his head and then all was blackness until he woke up here.
"Bloody scoundrels," Jack muttered. "No sense of honor 't all, sneakin' up on a man from behind in the dark."
He didn't know what his captors wanted of him, but he wasn't planning on staying to find out. Since his hands had been so considerately tied in front of him, it was easy to reach into his boot for the dagger he kept there. Transferring the hilt to his teeth, he proceeded to saw awkwardly at the ropes binding his hands. Fortunately the blade was keen and the severed ropes soon fell to the floor. Replacing the dagger in his boot, Jack peered cautiously out the window, unconsciously flexing his hands to increase circulation. The view outside was one of open fields of tall, green grass, the dew drops on them sparkling like diamonds as they were struck by rays of the rising sun. He had obviously been taken out of London, but Jack had no idea where he was heading or how long he'd been unconscious. They could be in Scotland by now for all he knew.
Regardless of the location, Jack wasn't going to stay in the coach another moment. Opening the door, he steeled himself and leapt out, grunting as he impacted with the ground and then tumbled a few feet before coming to a stop. Getting to his feet, he swayed a bit unsteadily and shook his head to clear it. A movement caught his attention and he turned around, his eyes widening as he saw two horsemen who had been following the coach bearing down on him.
"Bloody hell," he sighed.
Wasting no time, he began sprinting towards to one of the small copses of trees that dotted the fields, hearing his pursuers rapidly gaining on him.
"Halt, you!" one of them shouted, but Jack ignored him and continued to run.
Hearing the beat of hooves close behind him, Jack glanced back to see the position of his pursuers. The bay horse on the right was slightly ahead of the chestnut on the left and it gave Jack an idea. Waiting until the horses were almost on either side of him, Jack suddenly flung himself to the right. The rider of the bay cursed as his horse reared and backed up, spooked by the body suddenly thrown in front of it. Jack, meanwhile, had scrambled to his feet again and was off toward the trees. The trick had bought him a few extra seconds, but he didn't think it was going to be enough. And sure enough, the riders were soon on him again, but this time they herded him away from the trees, circling him until he was forced to a standstill. One of them had a pistol pointed at his head, and Jack raised his hands in defeat.
"John, go call the coach back," the man on the bay ordered the other rider, who nodded and wheeled his horse around.
The remaining man dismounted from his horse, keeping the pistol trained on Jack the whole while. His dark hair was, unusually, cropped close to his head and his steel gray eyes were as hard as granite, merciless and unforgiving. The angular planes of his face added to his harsh mien, and a light scar slashing down his left jaw line completed the appearance.
"I thought you might try to escape," he said conversationally. "That's why my companion and I were riding behind."
Jack gave a curt smile. "How intelligent of you."
The man ignored the pirate's words and studied him for a few moments as one would a prize horse they were considering buying, his eyes lingering on the beads in Jack's hair. His gaze was making the captain slightly uncomfortable, but Jack covered it up by examining his fingernails in a nonchalant manner, showing that he was entirely unconcerned with the proceedings.
"So you're Captain Jack Sparrow."
Jack yawned in a bored manner. "Last time I checked."
The man smiled harshly. "But you're not just that are you, Jack Lancaster?"
Jack suddenly became much more interested in the proceedings and his body tensed, but he kept up his free and easy demeanor, shrugging carelessly. "I don't know what you're talkin' about, mate."
The man waved his hand, brushing off Jack's words. "Come now, no need to play ignorant. We know who you are."
"Well that's very nice," Jack said, "but I'm afraid I don't know who you are."
"Pierre," the man said, inclining his head mockingly.
Jack eyed the man thoughtfully. So this is the one who had wanted him captured the other night. Interesting.
A shout from the road caused both of them to look that way and they saw the second rider waving to them, the coach at his side.
"All right," Pierre said, turning to Jack. "Walk up to the coach and if you try anything I'll put a bullet through your head."
Jack smirked. "I'll go, but you won't be killin' me. If you wanted me dead you would have done it already, and somehow I don't think your master would be too pleased about it either."
Pierre's eyes narrowed. "What makes you think I'm working for anyone?"
Jack smirked annoyingly again. "Someone, who obviously has power, wants me, and they're not going to do the dirty work themselves. That's what lackeys like you are for."
Pierre's lip curled in rage, but all he did was shove Jack into the coach and climb in after him.
"What, so eager for my charming company?" Jack drawled, arching an eyebrow.
"No," Pierre snarled. "I've heard about your tricks and I'm going to sit here and watch you the rest of the way."
Jack preened. "Well I know I'm handsome, but I've never had someone want to sit and simply gaze at me."
Jack could hear Pierre's teeth grinding together in an effort to prevent himself from striking the pirate, and Jack grinned. This might turn out to be fun.
Jack spent the rest of the trip throwing jibes and taunts at the increasingly irate Pierre, interspersing it with bouts of dozing when he tired. Finally, in the evening, they arrived at the gates of a large, wooded estate and Jack was allowed to get out of the coach. Wincing slightly at his stiffness, he stretched his arms to relieve some of the tension before he was ushered into the house.
Finding himself in a spacious hallway, he looked about in interest, eyeing the rich looking tapestries speculatively. Most of them were shot through with gold and silver thread and some had gems interwoven amongst the patterns. Some of them also looked quite old and valuable, and Jack bet there were worth a pretty penny. He sighed a little wistfully. Too bad he didn't have the opportunity to "acquire" them.
"Hmm, most certainly a pirate I see," a cultured voice said, interrupting Jack's musings. "The first thing his eye turns to is the gold."
Turning his head, Jack found himself faced with a sandy-haired man with sharp blue eyes, about six feet in height, his mouth quirked in a small smile as he studied Jack.
"And who are you, mate?" Jack asked, an edge of insolence to his voice, disliking the man's patronizing tone.
"Don't speak to the Duke of York in that manner!" Pierre hissed and struck Jack with his open hand.
Jack whipped to face the gray-eyed man, and before Pierre could react, Jack's fist had slammed into his face and the man was flat on his back on the floor, clutching a bleeding nose.
"And you don't every strike me like that," Jack said, quiet menace in his voice.
The gazes of the two men locked for a moment, steel against fire. Then Pierre looked quickly away, unable to stand the fierce, dark eyes of the pirate.
York was watching the performance with a cold smile, and he began to clap mockingly. "Bravo, Lancaster. You have courage, I'll grant you that."
At the words, Jack had turned back to confront York, and Pierre took the opportunity to lunge at the pirate's unprotected back, reaching for his dagger at the same time.
"Now, Pierre," York said, stopping him with a hand. "None of that. He felled you squarely."
Pierre halted obediently, but glared venomously at Jack, a promise of revenge in his eyes. Jack didn't deign to look at him and deliberately turned his back on Pierre, telling the man that he wasn't worth the pirate's notice.
York smiled his cold smile again and turned to walk down the hallway.
"If you would be so kind as to accompany me, Mr. Lancaster."
Jack was very tempted to throw his dagger into York's unprotected back but then remembered it had been confiscated after his escape, so he sighed and followed the man down the hallway. They entered a spacious study, books lining almost every wall, a large window behind the mahogany desk and a fireplace on the right wall crackling with a warm blaze. It was a picture of domesticity and would have been welcoming if not for the cold-eyed man who gazed dispassionately at Jack as the pirate entered the room after him.
"Now, Mr. Lancaster," York said when he was seated behind his desk, Jack across from him. "Shall we begin?"
"The name's Sparrow," Jack corrected, flicking a hand forward in punctuation. "Captain Sparrow, savvy?"
York smiled thinly. "Ah yes, that is the name you are going by now, isn't it? In order to make sure no one knew one of the Lancasters was engaging in piracy I suppose?"
Jack looked at him in puzzlement. "Now mate, why would that make the least bit of difference to me?"
York lips tightened at the familiarity with which Jack addressed him, but he let it pass.
"Perhaps because it would disgrace your family?" he suggested acidly.
Jack knew York was leading somewhere with this, but he couldn't tell what the man was getting at yet, so he just shrugged and pretended to be uninterested.
"Doesn't matter to me. I haven't seen them in over twenty years."
"It wouldn't matter to you if your family was completely destroyed?" York persisted.
Jack's eyes narrowed. "Listen, sonny, I don't know what you're tryin' to tell me, but how 'bout gettin' on with it and sparing me the rest of this pointless conversation, eh?"
"I will not accept that tone from you, criminal," York hissed. "You forget who I am."
"Well why don't you tell me?" Jack said, widening his eyes and spreading his arms in a go-ahead gesture.
"Oh yes, I forgot to properly introduce myself, didn't I?" York said, standing up and giving a faintly mocking bow to the pirate. "I am Duke Edward of York, current head of that house."
Jack grinned. "Am I supposed to be impressed?"
York looked faintly miffed and settled back into his seat. "I was merely ensuring that you know who you are dealing with."
"I've dealt with far scarier people than you, mate," Jack said, unperturbed. "I'm not worried."
"You should be, Mr. Lancaster," York growled in annoyance, "because unless you cooperate with me, you will be hung in four days time."
"Really?" Jack sighed. "That's starting to become slightly tedious. If I had a gold coin for every time I was supposed to be hung I'd be a richer man than I already am."
York raised an eyebrow. "You are astonishingly arrogant, pirate. Do you know I could have you killed right here and now if I wished? And I would most likely be rewarded for disposing of a notorious criminal."
"But you're not," Jack said shrewdly, "so you obviously want me for something."
York regarded him coolly. "Will you listen to my proposal or not?"
"Fire away, mate." Jack gestured expansively.
Giving a curt nod, York began. "In three days, Parliament will convene and you and I will be there. In front of the House of Lords, you will reveal yourself as Jack Lancaster and detail for them a few of your many crimes. In addition, you will implicate your brother, Robert Lancaster. You will say that he has provided you with funds and the timetables of several shipping companies in order to help you in your crimes. I have found two other witnesses who will corroborate your story and in addition, there are some rather implicating letters written by Robert to you that have been 'found'." His eyes gleamed triumphantly and he smiled maliciously. "This will be a huge blow to the Lancasters, one that I'm sure will take them years to recover from."
Jack wasn't often shocked, but the arrogant assurance of York's words had left him speechless. He realized he was gaping at York and shut his mouth quickly, but his eyes still regarded the man incredulously.
"And what in this world would make you think I would ever agree to that?" he finally managed to get out.
York smiled. "I have some incentive for you, of course. I know pirates do nothing for others unless there is profit involved. First of all, I will ensure that you are not hung and that you are allowed safe passage out of England. Secondly, if you agree to never attack any of my merchant vessels, I will see that you are cleared of all charges, and thirdly, a large monetary amount will be placed in your possession before you leave."
"No," Jack said succinctly, even before York had completely finished his speech. "I refuse to do it."
York looked at him in disbelief. "Just like that? I would have thought a man such as yourself would jump on an opportunity such as this. This would benefit you tremendously."
Jack raised a finger. "Ah, yes, but you see, I'm not the type of man you think I am."
"And what type of man are you?" York asked with heavy sarcasm.
"Captain Jack Sparrow," Jack said as if it were obvious.
York stared at him. "You are mad."
Jack nodded solemnly. "Maybe, but am I really mad or are all the rest of you mad for thinkin' I'm mad?"
York glared at the pirate. "Stop babbling nonsense and give me your answer. Will you do it or won't you?"
"I've already refused and I mean it," Jack said stubbornly.
York sighed, as if at some great inconvenience, and said, "Very well then. I did not think it was going to come to this but you leave me no choice. You have a friend, one William Turner, yes?"
"What about Will?" Jack asked suspiciously.
York eyed Jack narrowly across the desk. "I am sure you would be most unhappy if something were to happen to him, yes?"
At that, Jack leapt to his feet, hand automatically reaching for his sword. Realizing that it wasn't there, he cursed silently and settled instead for placing both hands on the desk and leaning in closely to York.
"No one threatens what's mine," he said in a low, dangerous voice. "Not my ship, not my freedom, and not my friends."
York smiled viciously. "Well I just have, and I always carry out my promises. Do what I want, or your friend dies. It is as simple as that. The police would investigate of course, but he is just an unknown blacksmith with no family, a commoner really, and his death will soon be forgotten."
"You bastard," Jack seethed, his hands clenching into fists. "You would destroy the lives of so many people?
York looked pleased. "Why yes I would and I will. And you, my friend, are going to be the instrument of their ruin."
Jack inspected his surroundings with disgust. Nothing. There was literally absolutely nothing in the room. No windows, no furniture, no decorations. It was simply a large box. There was no handle on the inside of the door and from what Jack had glimpsed as he was shoved in, there were at least two locks on the outside of the door.
"I'd like to see even you escape from this," Pierre had growled viciously as he'd shoved the pirate inside.
Jack had to admit that there wasn't much possibility of escape. York it seemed, had done his research and wasn't about to leave anything in the room that Jack might utilize for breaking out. In addition, the pirate could hear a guard pacing back and forth outside his prison. Ah well, he would just have to wait for the opportune moment. Accepting his plight for now, Jack flopped onto the floor, making himself as comfortable as possible, and promptly fell asleep.