Disclaimer:  I own Jack but he doesn't own me . . .or maybe that's I own Will but he doesn't own me . . .oh, now I remember . . .At the moment, Jack and Will own me, but I don't own either of them.  Oh, so sad.

AN:  Thanks to reviewers.  To a new author (at least this one) each good review brings a state of ecstasy unto itself.

A Taste of Misery

Part 6

The blade slid slowly along his neck, applying enough pressure to ensure his awareness of it without biting deep enough to draw blood.

"William Turner, you need to be more careful.  I know this house is defensible, considering I helped build it, but the locks don't work if ye don't set them."  The blade pulled back from his neck, and his straining eyes discerned the silhouette of a woman . . .a woman wearing a man's clothing.

"Ana-Marie."  Will could feel Elizabeth stir next to him, and tightened his arm around her, whether to comfort her or protect her, even he wasn't certain.  It was a mixture of welcome and trepidation that rose in his throat, for if the Pearl had been the ship at Jade, then surely this woman had been part of the crew.

"Aye, Will.  Where's Jack?"

Anger flared inside him, and he jolted upright in bed to face her, making sure that the sheets were entwined firmly about his hips.

"He's in Norrington's brig, right where he belongs."

The blade reappeared at his throat, the edge glinting in what little light there was in the room.

"I don't appreciate talk like that, Will Turner, and neither will the rest of the Pearl's crew.  When we heard Jack had been brought here, we thought at least he would be among friends."  The edge pressed deeper, but Will refused to pull back, expecting to feel the warm trickle of blood down his chest at any instant.  "I guess that I was wrong."  The blade snapped back into the scabbard with a small scrape as the female pirate turned to leave, anger evident in her step.

"Wait!  Don't go."  Elizabeth had risen from the bed, her white silk nightgown falling to her knees.  Ana-Marie turned, opened her mouth, paused, eyed the bulge at Elizabeth's abdomen and finally nodded, standing stiffly in the middle of the small bedroom.

"I don't believe Jack's guilty, Ana-Marie.  I think he's in trouble, and he needs all the friends . . .and help . . .he can find."

"That's why the Pearl is here, m'lady.  She's come to claim her Captain, and she'll do it in any way necessary."  The pirate glared at Elizabeth, daring her to contradict, but it was Will who spoke.

"Did Jack order the massacres at Jade?"  The glare transferred itself to Will, and he shrank back, grief etching itself into his features as he remembered everything he had said to Jack.  "If it wasn't Jack, then why is Silverfirth saying that it was?"

"Because he wasn't there, and he can't very well say why he wasn't there.  Someone told him that it was Jack and the Pearl, and he believed them."

"How do you know Silverfirth wasn't there?"  Elizabeth asked as she settled on the edge of the bed.

"Why do you think we're behind Jack instead of in front?  If a common cargo ship can make the run from Jackson to Royal in five days, do you think it would take the Pearl seven?"  The derision in her voice shocked both Turners.

"You stopped at Jade to see if you could find out anything about what happened."  Will's voice was devoid of emotion.

"Aye, we stopped at Jade, and we found something that we hadn't expected.  Not all was dead at Jade.  A wraith floated through the graves, a beauty that would have tempted any man, but one whose mind has long left her.  She led us to her home, a pretty enough place some twenty minutes on horse from the port, where she's lived for the past six years since she was driven from Port Jade by a drunken mob bent on her death for witchcraft.  It seems she was looking for her lover, the Silver Man, who disappeared the night that the thunder came from the clear sky."  Ana-Marie sneered.  "Her description fit Silverfirth perfectly.  He can't have seen Jack, because he was out seeding other pastures at the time of the attack.  Besides," the sneer deepened, "what happened at Port Jade wasn't the work of pirates."

"What?"  Will flicked his gaze back to the pirate's eyes.

"You've seen how pirates work, Will.  Even Barbosa and his crew didn't have the time or the inclination to round up all the people and kill them.  In a land raid, you sow chaos and reap the rewards.  At sea, then the nasty ones like Barbosa will kill all the men, but it's just too much work for too little reward on land."

"Then who was it?"  Will's hands had clenched into fists, and Elizabeth silently reached over and began rubbing his shoulders.

"Only two groups of people wreak wholesale slaughter like that—mercenaries and assassins."

"It would take a small fortune to pay enough people to wipe out an entire port like that!"  Elizabeth replied.

"Aye, maybe, but if you use the loot collected from the raid as part of the payment, then the chances are there's a great many people who could afford it—but not a great many that would order it."

"If Silverfirth wasn't there, how did he get shot?"

"There's more than one way to get an injury that resembles a graze, and being injured would give him even more proof that whoever he accused was guilty."

"Why?  Why would he choose Jack to accuse?"  All of the energy seemed to have left the young man, his hands resting limply in his lap.

"We don't know, and I really don't care.  I'm here for the captain of the Pearl—we won't see him swing for a crime he didn't commit."  She grinned slightly.  "Not when there's plenty that we have committed for them to choose from."

Elizabeth frowned slightly.  "Despite a somewhat overprotective husband, I've been keeping as close an eye as I can on what's been happening with the Pearl.  You seem to be doing well for yourselves."

"Aye.  We've a fine boat, a solid crew, and a captain that plans well when he keeps his feet in reality."  Elizabeth smiled, remembering Gibbs words from what seemed a lifetime ago.

You're daft.

Aye, daft like Jack.

"How many have died?"  Will's voice was solid ice.

"No more than had to.  Three years running, and only fourteen deaths on her name, though she brings home more than any other ship that hits port in Tortuga.  Seven deaths in firefights, seven by Jack's hand."  Will straightened perceptively and she glared at him again.  "The first three were cowards—they went at his back when we had fair control of the ship.  The fourth was a captain who insisted on a duel for his ship.  The next two were cowards also."

"That's only six."  Will remarked acidly.

"Aye, that's six.  The seventh isn't for me to tell, though it's the reason we made port in Jackson in the first place."

"Ana-Marie . . .please.  We want to help.  Tell us what's bothering him."  The pirate turned away, a far-off look in her eyes that told Will she was remembering something.

Slowly, the female pirate shook her head.  "Nay.  'Tis not for me t' tell ye.  Jack made that clear enou'."  Another shake of her head dispelled the last vestiges of reminiscence from her face.  "So ye will help me bring Jack home?"

Before the Turners could respond, a knock at the door announced another, more polite, visitor.