Rebel
Chapter 3: Corrupted
The sounds of battle filled the air, hectic and torrential. Man after man met death at the blade, or as the crack of a pistol rang through the air. In the thick of the battle, Jack and Anthony Sparrow stood back to back, fending off a circle of red-coated British soldiers. "You've improved, lad!" Jack yelled above a scream of anguish. He grinned ferally as his son ran a soldier through.
"Many thanks, Cap'n!" Anthony cried, returning the grin. Lost in the fury of the battle, the young man was oblivious to how many men he had killed since they'd boarded the naval vessel. The HMS Lioness had attempted pursuit of the Pearl, and Jack, being the perverse devil that he was, had decided with the full approval of the crew to give the prissy bastards the fight they so obviously wanted.
The battle ended shortly. The few soldiers who had been smart enough to surrender were left aboard their now useless ship—the crew of the Pearl had demolished the rudder and set the sails on fire before taking their leave of the ship. They took with them most of the provisions and goods aboard.
As the pirates sailed away on the Pearl, Anthony watched the British sailors shoving bodies off the poor Lioness and shooting them hate-filled glances over their shoulders. Anthony grinned. Another job well done.
***
Anthony had changed, there was no doubt about that. Anamaria thought about it as she checked the tension on the rigging portside. He had suddenly stopped being so sensitive and had started being more…ruthless. Yes, that was the word, ruthless; and although a good pirate had to be ruthless to survive the kind of life they led, Anamaria was not sure she liked the change in her son. She had taught him well—he could handle a sword almost as well as Jack, and could tell a lie even the good Captain couldn't see through. He could outtalk and outrun his father, and soon he would have the same caliber of intuition that told Jack exactly where the wealthiest merchant vessels ran and what point exactly to strike a ship at to secure the swiftest victory.
Anamaria grinned as she realized that she was comparing her son's every aspect to Jack. The grin faltered as she remembered her original doubts.
She did not like the man her son had become. She did not like him at all.
She jumped as an arm was slung around her shoulder. "Jack," she growled.
"Anamaria," he replied with a chuckle. "Jumpy, much?" She didn't answer, but didn't push his arm away. "You do realize you've been standing over here staring at nothin' for about an hour?" She glanced at him and shrugged noncommittally. "Now don't give me that, love." He grinned and poked her nose with a grimy finger. "You're scarin' the crew. Gibbs is terrified you're contemplating the best way to kill us all in our beds. Your own darling son thinks you're more inclined to suicide. I tried to tell him you know perfectly well how to swim, but does he listen to me? Course not."
"Shove off, Jack," Anamaria growled angrily, pushing Jack away. "Don't talk to me about Tony right now, all right?"
"Fine," the pirate muttered. "At least whatever it is it can't be my fault," he muttered as he stomped sulkily off. Anamaria's lip lifted in a scornful sneer. If only you knew how wrong you were, Jack.
***
Well. I suppose this is going to be one of those stories where I can only write a page per chapter. Oh well. Next chapter: More changes in store for Tony Sparrow. What will happen to him in the future? Can anything make him change his bloodthirsty ways? What happened to the fine morals he had as a youth? Don't ask me, I don't bloody know! *grin*