Author's Note: Hello all! Thanks for all your glowing reviews, as always. And now for some *action.* I think you all know what I mean by that. (Wink, wink.) This chapter is one of my personal favorites – please let me know what you think!
Chapter 11: A Lesson
It was now the dawn of spring, and I was becoming impatient and irritable because of the heat. Will, Elizabeth, Jack and I were the only ones left of our party. One night the four of us were standing out on a balcony at one of the taverns, watching the moon rise over the water. We were all thinking the same thing, but I was the first to voice it.
"What do you reckon he's waiting for?" I said, not really expecting an answer.
"Perhaps he's not coming after all," said Will.
"Don't be ridiculous," said Elizabeth, "Of course he's coming. The question is why he's biding his time this much."
"Well," said Will, turning to me, "When he does arrive, at least you'll be ready for him."
"You think so?" I asked uncertainly.
"Absolutely. You're improving every day, and you've got a restless spirit. He won't stand a chance."
"Will, don't underestimate your enemy," Jack muttered, "That's always been your greatest weakness."
"She's ready," Will insisted, "And Covington's not a pirate, Jack – he'll take her in a fair fight."
"Really?" said Jack skeptically, "Then let's put her to the test, shall we?"
He drew his sword and pointed it straight at my throat. I heard Elizabeth gasp sharply, but my own hand flew straight to the ivory knife at my waist and I met Jack's sword not a moment too soon.
"Jack, are you mad?" asked Will angrily, "You can't fight up here – there's no room! I haven't taught her how to defend herself in such close quarters yet."
But I heard his words only in the background of my consciousness. My eyes were locked on Jack's, and his on mine. He didn't say a word, but grinned slowly, showing the glint of his gold teeth in the eerie twilight. I uncoiled my arm and thrust his sword away from me. I quickly sheathed the knife again, drawing out my own sword in its place. But then Will stepped between Jack and me, forcing Jack to back away.
"Enough of this nonsense," he said, "This isn't the time for one of your parlor tricks, Jack."
"Will, get out of the way!" I yelled.
I was burning with rage all the sudden; everything that had happened since I'd first seen the Black Pearl, all the indignities I'd suffered, the betrayals and unanswered questions I'd endured for the better part of a year now, came blasting to the surface. I had no choice but to let my anger be assuaged. Will looked back at me, alarmed, but he moved aside. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Elizabeth take him aside and say something to him, but I couldn't hear her. I raised my sword, keeping Jack in my cold gaze.
"Young Mr. Turner seems to think we've no room up here," he said quietly.
"Details," I muttered, "I know how to improvise."
Jack raised his sword and slid the blade along the edge of mine; his eyes glittered with a strange light I'd never seen in them before. And then, with a flash of bright steel and the crash of metal on metal, it began. Jack was stronger and far more experienced than I, and at first the force of his lunges nearly knocked me to my feet, but I never lost my grip. He kept me moving, forcing me backward into the tavern. I heard yells of surprise around us when we found ourselves back inside, but I focused my attention on Jack, never taking my eyes off him. Will and Elizabeth ran down to the floor of the tavern, trying to clear out the other patrons. I glanced down the stairs for half a second, and instantly Jack knocked my sword out of my hand. It clattered to the floor of the tavern as I watched, helpless, from the top of the stairs.
"Watch your step, darling," said Jack, "Off you go."
He kept his sword held out just inches away from me, heading me down the stairs. The tavern was completely empty now except for us; I got down to the floor and retrieved my sword quickly. My failure had infuriated me even more, and now I was hotly determined to prove myself.
"Ye've proved a fine teacher, Will," called Jack, not taking his eyes off me, "But she needs a lot of work."
I cried out in frustration and lunged at him. He blocked every one of my blows easily, but I managed to back him against a round wooden table and knock it over. This small victory gave me a rush of adrenaline, but it wasn't enough to keep me on my feet when he came back at me from an unexpected angle. I wasn't quick enough, and Jack had done this sort of thing much more often than I had. Not to mention his fighting style was radically different from Will's, whom I'd gotten used to sparring with. I fell to the right and had to catch myself on my hands, but my mind didn't slow down: I grabbed the leg of an overturned chair and flung in Jack's direction. It caught him in the knee and he stumbled, but he didn't fall. But it had taken him by surprise, giving me an opportunity to get back to my feet and come at him again.
"It's not your form that's lacking," he said, still matching me blow for blow, "But Will has been a bit too courteous with you, I believe."
He began backing me into a corner underneath balcony.
"You've no experience," he said, "And you're clumsy."
He knocked my sword away again; I whipped out my knife again, but this time he caught my wrist in his hand. I suddenly felt myself trapped with my back against the wall.
"But you are determined," he said, with just a hint of admiration behind his patronizing tone.
I was shaking with exhaustion and unquenched anger, but I was beaten. I opened my fingers and let the knife fall to the floor with a dull clatter.
"Will! Elizabeth!" he called, "Give us a moment, would you?"
I heard the door open and close, and then Jack and I were alone in the tavern. Jack let go of my wrist and backed away. He then sheathed his sword and pulled up the chair I'd thrown at him, settling into it lazily as if he'd just returned home from a vigorous day of sport and exercise. I glared at him, then bent down to pick up my knife and sword again.
"You seem rather pleased with yourself," I muttered sulkily.
"Do I?" he asked noncommittally, "You seem rather the opposite."
"Well, why do you suppose that is?" I spat sarcastically.
"Don't be so upset, love. I was only makin' a point."
I turned away from him, crossing my arms in front of my chest, and took a seat near the bar. I felt completely disgusted with myself, mostly for failing to match Jack in a fight, but also for convincing myself that I'd fallen in love with him. How could I possibly have fallen for that dirty, chauvinistic, self-righteous scoundrel? A lump rose in my throat; I told myself it was just the bitterness of defeat, because I'd always been something of a sore loser, but somewhere in the back of my mind I knew it was more than that. I bit my lip and tried to squelch the feeling into nothingness.
"The point is," said Jack, "You are not ready. I realize you're anxious to give this fiancé of yours something substantial by which to remember you, but it's too soon yet. You must wait, just as he's doing."
"For what?" I muttered, straining to keep my voice level.
"For the opportune moment."
"And you think you'd know better than I when that moment is – is that it?"
I couldn't help it; my voice cracked. I ran a hand nervously through my hair, and suddenly realized that it had fallen down. My blue scarf must have come loose during the fight. I glanced back at Jack; he was eying me silently, expressionless. He had the blue scarf, and he was pulling it slowly through his fingers.
"Jack, for God's sake, what is it?" I asked, "What do you expect me to do?"
Jack frowned, but said nothing. I turned away from him again, and a cold silence filled the empty tavern. I didn't bother biting back my tears this time; I let them run hot and salty down my cheeks until they were all gone. I felt drained afterwards, but marginally better than before.
"Abby, come here."
"Why?"
He didn't answer; I rose grudgingly and moved closer to him. He got to his feet and moved around behind me, then lifted the scarf and tied it over my eyes. My hands shot up to my face when I realized what he was doing and I tried to tear the scarf away.
"Jack, what are you –"
"Relax, will you?" he said impatiently, "And listen closely, because this is very important: I will never hurt you Abby. Never. Understand?"
"No."
I heard him sigh heavily, then felt the air change as he moved in front of me again. I raised my arms blindly, trying to find him. I didn't like not knowing where he was.
"I'm not an honest man, Abby, but I am being honest right now, therefore I advise you to pay attention. I will never hurt you, but at the state you're in presently, that wretched fiancé of yours may very well be able to."
"He's not my fiancé – he thinks he is, but he's not. He's a delusional cur and I want nothing to do with him."
I tried to pry the edge of the scarf upward; why had he tied it so tight?
"Yes, I know that bit," said Jack, "And I'm trying to help you, but if you don't cooperate it's going to be exceedingly difficult. Now," he took both my hands and led me to a different place in the tavern, "The first problem is you are too easily distracted. If you intend to fight against a madman, you will need to be able to focus. Stay here," he let go of my hands; I heard him move away again, "So we are going to try again, and this time don't rely on your eyesight so much."
"Do I have a choice?"
"Draw your sword."
I obeyed; this was going to be a long night. I raised my sword and waited, listening intently for any cue as to Jack's whereabouts.
"Hold perfectly still," he said quietly, "And then tell me how you are going to strike me down."
I heard a metallic swoosh next to my ear and swung my sword around blindly; I hit nothing but air. I could hear Jack laughing somewhere to my left, and I stumbled forward, trying to get at him. He caught me by the arm and pulled me back to where I'd started.
"Stop that, calm down," he said, "Try again, and this time hold still."
"And then what?"
Again I heard his sword swish through the air, and again I raised my own sword.
"Be still!" said Jack.
I froze.
"Now, where is my sword?" he asked.
Almost subconsciously, I felt my body relax and my senses grew more acute. I held still, forcing myself to wait until I was sure my next move would be on-target. Jack wasn't moving; he was waiting for me. I could feel small, subtle differences in the temperature of the air around me. There was a distinct cold hovering just above my left ear, near my throat. I raised my sword and, guessing at Jack's distance from me, lifted it at a sharp angle across my front. I felt it meet Jack's sword and pushed it away.
"Very good," said Jack admirably, "Try again; faster this time."
I backed away and waited. Again I felt a change in the air as Jack swept his sword through the air, and this time I blocked him almost instantly. He came at me again; I wasn't prepared for that, but I blocked him again, even quicker this time.
"Mind your feet," he said, and he began forcing me backward again.
This time I steeled myself and went forward. I could hear the sword coming from every angle, and found myself blocking more skillfully than ever before. I overbalanced once and nearly fell, but Jack caught me and helped me to my feet again.
"That'll do for tonight, I believe," he said.
I heard him slide his sword back in its sheath, and I did the same. I was fantastically excited about this new achievement; who'd have thought I would be able to fence blindfolded? I reached up and tried to pull the scarf off. I felt Jack's arms go around me as he untied the scarf for me.
"Do you think I'm ready for him now?" I asked, lowering my hands.
"No," he said simply, "But you're a good deal nearer than you were just half an hour ago."
The scarf came undone. I reached up and pulled it away; I opened my eyes. Jack was looking down at me strangely. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but then changed his mind.
"Thank you," I said quietly.
He didn't say anything, but turned and left the tavern.