Wow, three chapters, even if this one
is extremely short. This is more than
I expected to post on this thing.
You can all thank a certain friend of mine for...uh, requesting another one. *g* You know who you are.
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Jack squinted one eye and scrutinized the woman, swaying backwards and then forwards as though he couldn't quite get her into focus. "Her brother's," he repeated, sounding almost as drunk as the night before. "No no, mate, that's her sword, all right. One way or the other. Aren't I right, love?" He grinned broadly at her. There was a scowl in her eyes that seemed to promise murder. She opened her mouth to speak, but Hinds beat her to it.
"Keep to your own business, you mutt," the blacksmith growled, crossing his arms and levelling a glare at Sparrow. "I've had just about enough of your sneakin' into where your not invited."
"Only just about?" Jack batted his eyelashes at Hinds. He did not seem to realize the fact that the much larger blacksmith was coming toward him until both his arms were wrenched behind his back. Keahi, standing to the side, did not know whether to smirk or raise her eyebrows when Hinds called to her, "Miss, grab those irons off the board behind ye."
Keahi glanced over her shoulder. There were indeed a pair of cuffs dangling from a peg just above eyelevel. She reached up and brought them down, keeping a wary eye on Sparrow. He seemed quite limp in Hinds's grasp, an insolent smirk still curling one corner of his mouth. He winked at her, thoroughly amused by her suspicion, as she crossed the separating space and helped Hinds clap the irons onto his wrists.
"Now then." Hinds grabbed Jack by the scruff of his neck and roughly pushed him past Keahi into the main room. The woman followed after, equal parts confused and irritated. She watched as Hinds shoved Sparrow down into a chair. "You stay there, an' if you even think about movin' I'll make sure you're not able to."
"Wouldn't dream of it, mate." Jack's eyes traveled past Hinds as Keahi stepped closer. The blacksmith walked around behind Sparrow to face his customer.
"My apologies, miss." Shrewd green eyes met hard brown ones. "Jack's not all right in the head."
Keahi glanced quickly at the strange man in the chair, who seemed even shorter now that he was sitting down. He was surprisingly delicate-featured for the rough way he was dressed and the scruff on his face. Black hair fell from beneath a kercheif to drape haphazardly over his shoulders . Several locks were beaded with outrageous knick-knacks, as was his goatee, separated into two braids. She was suddenly much more aware of the weight of the pistol she had taken from him last night strapped against her hip.
"Now, like we were discussin' - if you'll just leave the sword here, I'll have that dagger for ye in a week." Hinds saw the dubious look the woman directed at Jack. "Oh, don't you worry about him, miss. I don't associate with his riff-raff." And with that he reached down and yanked Sparrow to his feet by the collar. "Out, you!" he snarled as he shoved the pirate towards the front door.
"If you'd be so kind, my hat - "
"Hang your bleedin' hat!" Hinds wrenched the door open. "If you come in here again without leave I'll see you flayed!" He threw Jack over the threshold, "Out!" and slammed the door.
When he turned back around, Keahi had an eyebrow raised at him. She was still holding the sword at her side. "Price?" she said, as though Jack had never been in the room.
Hinds was at once relieved by and suspicious of her nonchalance. "Well, now. Price." He dusted both palms on the front of his vest before stepping forward and indicating that she should pass the weapon to him. She did so with just a hint of reluctance. The blacksmith ran his finger along the blade and studied the intricately carved guard and hilt. "This is a pretty piece of work you're asking for." He rolled his eyes up to look at her. "And if you want finest steel..."
"Nothing else," she replied immediately.
Hinds raised an eyebrow, openly scrutinizing her for any signs of wealth. Besides the impressive sword, he could not see a coin on her. "I would say...thirty-five pounds."
It was too high a price. She haggled. He knew she would. "Fifteen."
"Thirty-two."
"Seventeen."
They finally agreed upon twenty-six and a half, half now and half later. The woman seemed almost disappointed that the bartering had ended, Hinds noticed. By the way she looked at her sword in his hands so uncharitably, he was sure he knew why. "Twenty-six and a half pounds, then. Do we have an accord?" He extended his hand. She took it in a firm grip and shook once. "Half now and half later."
Something seemed to darken the woman's eyes. Hinds watched with hidden curiosity as she reached inside her left sleeve. Her hand withdrew again with a gold piece trapped between middle and index fingers. "Will this do?"
Hinds stared, forcing himself not to snatch the coin from her fingers. It was unmarked, but it was thick, and when he took it and bit into the metal it bent beneath his teeth.
Pure gold.
He looked down at the woman, pocketing the gold piece after a long moment. "Nicely," he replied.
Keahi reached inside her sleeve again and withdrew a slightly smaller nugget of gold. The heavy way it dropped into Hinds's hand more than compensated for its size. "For your silence."
The blacksmith didn't bother to censor the look he gave her. "Thank ye kindly, miss."
The woman offered the sword hilt-first, which Hinds took carefully as she walked past him to her discarded cloak and picked it up, shaking it out before swirling it about herself. But for her height, it was impossible to tell her gender with the robes obscuring her form.
"I will be back in a week," she said before pushing the front door open and walking out, leaving Hinds staring after her with a thoughtful glint in his scruffy eyes, tracing the guard of her sword with an almost covetous finger.
****
Kohl-rimmed eyes tracked the woman's departure from the roof of Hinds's smithy. Jack Sparrow watched as the cloaked figure made its way down the bare cobblestones, tugging at one twist of his beard with dirt-caked fingers. He worried at the smooth beads until she disappeared from sight into the thickening crowd. Jack made a thorough sweep of the direction she had last been headed before turning and crawling over the peak of the gently sloped roof, wavering and swaying as though he were navigating the steepest of rock faces. Even so, he did manage flatten himself on his belly and from there slide over the edge, where he dangled for a second or two before dropping to the ground and rolling with cat's grace.
"Ne'er!" called Jack in a gravelly, lusty voice as he strode in through the open backway, "insult me hat again, Messr. Hinds," The blacksmith appeared in the opposite doorway from the main forge as the pirate kicked his own door of entrance shut.
"P'raps if ye didn't go about knockin' my tools down, Jack," Hinds replied, watching as the captain swept up his beloved hat from the floor, carefully dusted it off, and settled it firmly on his head.
"P'raps if ye didn't stack 'em so carelessly, eh mate?"
The blacksmith shrugged. "You got found out, not me," he said as Sparrow walked past him into the main room. The shorter man made a beeline for the sword the woman had left, as Hinds knew he would. "See anythin' interesting?" he drawled with a half-smirk, following after.
Jack had the sword raised in both hand above eyelevel, bent slightly back at the waist and peering with drunken fascination. "S'hard to say," he slurred, throwing a look at Hinds that belied his fool's demeanor. "What's it I'm supposed t' be seeing?"
"Look on the guard," said Hinds.
Sparrow lowered the weapon to inspect the hilt. After a moment his eyes widened. The steel of the grip and guard were covered in impossibly thin lines. It was obviously a master who had engraved them. They twined around their surface and with each other to form the most intricate designs: here a rose, there a Celtic knot, even a detailed eagle with wings outstretched.
And on the length of the grip itself reared a serpentine dragon.
"Interesting, isn't it?"
"Fascinatin'. Pretty question, it is, what a woman wi' the means to buy this here sword's doin' trompin' about in trousers'n'boots."
Jack threw a thinly veiled glare at Hinds when the man let out a faint laugh. "Jack, Jack," he chortled, shaking his head. "You never did like to admit when you're out o' the know."
"Hate it, actually, mate," Sparrow retorted with a falsetto grin. "Why don't you just tell me, eh?"
Hinds pulled up a chair and plopped down into it, propping his feet up on the bench he had been sitting at when the woman had first come in. He held out his hand. Jack offered the sword to him, turning his two paces forward into a strange little hop-skip. The motion ended with one of his boots atop the bench, his arms crossed over his flexed knee as he leaned forward to study Hinds study the hilt. There was a silence as the captain waited for him to speak.
"You familiar at all with the Italian houses?" said the blacksmith at last.
"Oh, for the...!" Jack's hair clicked and clacked as he jerked in exasperation. "For the love of rum, ou' with it!"
Hinds chuckled warm and low. "Indulge me, Jack. S'not often I'm savvy and yer not."
"Don't be taking me word, either, mate," Jack growled. "What's that hilt got t' do with anythin'?"
"Look here." Hinds pointed a finger that, although calloused, was strangely long and elegant for a blacksmith's hand. "The rose, the eagle, the knot on the guard. Surrounding the hilt with a dragon on it. Don't tell me ye don't at least know the House o' the Dragon. Come now, Jack, think o' their seal."
Realization had blazed in the dark eyes before all the words were out. Jack's brow creased ever so lightly and his lips parted as he stared down at the sword and then up into Hinds's face. "I thought Barbossa'd killed the last one," he said at last in a low voice. "There was some kind of t'-do about it when they sailed from Italy."
Hinds nodded. Jack blinked and took a long look over his shoulder at the door the woman had gone out of.
"She's not Italian," he said when he turned back.
"No. She ain't."
You can all thank a certain friend of mine for...uh, requesting another one. *g* You know who you are.
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Jack squinted one eye and scrutinized the woman, swaying backwards and then forwards as though he couldn't quite get her into focus. "Her brother's," he repeated, sounding almost as drunk as the night before. "No no, mate, that's her sword, all right. One way or the other. Aren't I right, love?" He grinned broadly at her. There was a scowl in her eyes that seemed to promise murder. She opened her mouth to speak, but Hinds beat her to it.
"Keep to your own business, you mutt," the blacksmith growled, crossing his arms and levelling a glare at Sparrow. "I've had just about enough of your sneakin' into where your not invited."
"Only just about?" Jack batted his eyelashes at Hinds. He did not seem to realize the fact that the much larger blacksmith was coming toward him until both his arms were wrenched behind his back. Keahi, standing to the side, did not know whether to smirk or raise her eyebrows when Hinds called to her, "Miss, grab those irons off the board behind ye."
Keahi glanced over her shoulder. There were indeed a pair of cuffs dangling from a peg just above eyelevel. She reached up and brought them down, keeping a wary eye on Sparrow. He seemed quite limp in Hinds's grasp, an insolent smirk still curling one corner of his mouth. He winked at her, thoroughly amused by her suspicion, as she crossed the separating space and helped Hinds clap the irons onto his wrists.
"Now then." Hinds grabbed Jack by the scruff of his neck and roughly pushed him past Keahi into the main room. The woman followed after, equal parts confused and irritated. She watched as Hinds shoved Sparrow down into a chair. "You stay there, an' if you even think about movin' I'll make sure you're not able to."
"Wouldn't dream of it, mate." Jack's eyes traveled past Hinds as Keahi stepped closer. The blacksmith walked around behind Sparrow to face his customer.
"My apologies, miss." Shrewd green eyes met hard brown ones. "Jack's not all right in the head."
Keahi glanced quickly at the strange man in the chair, who seemed even shorter now that he was sitting down. He was surprisingly delicate-featured for the rough way he was dressed and the scruff on his face. Black hair fell from beneath a kercheif to drape haphazardly over his shoulders . Several locks were beaded with outrageous knick-knacks, as was his goatee, separated into two braids. She was suddenly much more aware of the weight of the pistol she had taken from him last night strapped against her hip.
"Now, like we were discussin' - if you'll just leave the sword here, I'll have that dagger for ye in a week." Hinds saw the dubious look the woman directed at Jack. "Oh, don't you worry about him, miss. I don't associate with his riff-raff." And with that he reached down and yanked Sparrow to his feet by the collar. "Out, you!" he snarled as he shoved the pirate towards the front door.
"If you'd be so kind, my hat - "
"Hang your bleedin' hat!" Hinds wrenched the door open. "If you come in here again without leave I'll see you flayed!" He threw Jack over the threshold, "Out!" and slammed the door.
When he turned back around, Keahi had an eyebrow raised at him. She was still holding the sword at her side. "Price?" she said, as though Jack had never been in the room.
Hinds was at once relieved by and suspicious of her nonchalance. "Well, now. Price." He dusted both palms on the front of his vest before stepping forward and indicating that she should pass the weapon to him. She did so with just a hint of reluctance. The blacksmith ran his finger along the blade and studied the intricately carved guard and hilt. "This is a pretty piece of work you're asking for." He rolled his eyes up to look at her. "And if you want finest steel..."
"Nothing else," she replied immediately.
Hinds raised an eyebrow, openly scrutinizing her for any signs of wealth. Besides the impressive sword, he could not see a coin on her. "I would say...thirty-five pounds."
It was too high a price. She haggled. He knew she would. "Fifteen."
"Thirty-two."
"Seventeen."
They finally agreed upon twenty-six and a half, half now and half later. The woman seemed almost disappointed that the bartering had ended, Hinds noticed. By the way she looked at her sword in his hands so uncharitably, he was sure he knew why. "Twenty-six and a half pounds, then. Do we have an accord?" He extended his hand. She took it in a firm grip and shook once. "Half now and half later."
Something seemed to darken the woman's eyes. Hinds watched with hidden curiosity as she reached inside her left sleeve. Her hand withdrew again with a gold piece trapped between middle and index fingers. "Will this do?"
Hinds stared, forcing himself not to snatch the coin from her fingers. It was unmarked, but it was thick, and when he took it and bit into the metal it bent beneath his teeth.
Pure gold.
He looked down at the woman, pocketing the gold piece after a long moment. "Nicely," he replied.
Keahi reached inside her sleeve again and withdrew a slightly smaller nugget of gold. The heavy way it dropped into Hinds's hand more than compensated for its size. "For your silence."
The blacksmith didn't bother to censor the look he gave her. "Thank ye kindly, miss."
The woman offered the sword hilt-first, which Hinds took carefully as she walked past him to her discarded cloak and picked it up, shaking it out before swirling it about herself. But for her height, it was impossible to tell her gender with the robes obscuring her form.
"I will be back in a week," she said before pushing the front door open and walking out, leaving Hinds staring after her with a thoughtful glint in his scruffy eyes, tracing the guard of her sword with an almost covetous finger.
Kohl-rimmed eyes tracked the woman's departure from the roof of Hinds's smithy. Jack Sparrow watched as the cloaked figure made its way down the bare cobblestones, tugging at one twist of his beard with dirt-caked fingers. He worried at the smooth beads until she disappeared from sight into the thickening crowd. Jack made a thorough sweep of the direction she had last been headed before turning and crawling over the peak of the gently sloped roof, wavering and swaying as though he were navigating the steepest of rock faces. Even so, he did manage flatten himself on his belly and from there slide over the edge, where he dangled for a second or two before dropping to the ground and rolling with cat's grace.
"Ne'er!" called Jack in a gravelly, lusty voice as he strode in through the open backway, "insult me hat again, Messr. Hinds," The blacksmith appeared in the opposite doorway from the main forge as the pirate kicked his own door of entrance shut.
"P'raps if ye didn't go about knockin' my tools down, Jack," Hinds replied, watching as the captain swept up his beloved hat from the floor, carefully dusted it off, and settled it firmly on his head.
"P'raps if ye didn't stack 'em so carelessly, eh mate?"
The blacksmith shrugged. "You got found out, not me," he said as Sparrow walked past him into the main room. The shorter man made a beeline for the sword the woman had left, as Hinds knew he would. "See anythin' interesting?" he drawled with a half-smirk, following after.
Jack had the sword raised in both hand above eyelevel, bent slightly back at the waist and peering with drunken fascination. "S'hard to say," he slurred, throwing a look at Hinds that belied his fool's demeanor. "What's it I'm supposed t' be seeing?"
"Look on the guard," said Hinds.
Sparrow lowered the weapon to inspect the hilt. After a moment his eyes widened. The steel of the grip and guard were covered in impossibly thin lines. It was obviously a master who had engraved them. They twined around their surface and with each other to form the most intricate designs: here a rose, there a Celtic knot, even a detailed eagle with wings outstretched.
And on the length of the grip itself reared a serpentine dragon.
"Interesting, isn't it?"
"Fascinatin'. Pretty question, it is, what a woman wi' the means to buy this here sword's doin' trompin' about in trousers'n'boots."
Jack threw a thinly veiled glare at Hinds when the man let out a faint laugh. "Jack, Jack," he chortled, shaking his head. "You never did like to admit when you're out o' the know."
"Hate it, actually, mate," Sparrow retorted with a falsetto grin. "Why don't you just tell me, eh?"
Hinds pulled up a chair and plopped down into it, propping his feet up on the bench he had been sitting at when the woman had first come in. He held out his hand. Jack offered the sword to him, turning his two paces forward into a strange little hop-skip. The motion ended with one of his boots atop the bench, his arms crossed over his flexed knee as he leaned forward to study Hinds study the hilt. There was a silence as the captain waited for him to speak.
"You familiar at all with the Italian houses?" said the blacksmith at last.
"Oh, for the...!" Jack's hair clicked and clacked as he jerked in exasperation. "For the love of rum, ou' with it!"
Hinds chuckled warm and low. "Indulge me, Jack. S'not often I'm savvy and yer not."
"Don't be taking me word, either, mate," Jack growled. "What's that hilt got t' do with anythin'?"
"Look here." Hinds pointed a finger that, although calloused, was strangely long and elegant for a blacksmith's hand. "The rose, the eagle, the knot on the guard. Surrounding the hilt with a dragon on it. Don't tell me ye don't at least know the House o' the Dragon. Come now, Jack, think o' their seal."
Realization had blazed in the dark eyes before all the words were out. Jack's brow creased ever so lightly and his lips parted as he stared down at the sword and then up into Hinds's face. "I thought Barbossa'd killed the last one," he said at last in a low voice. "There was some kind of t'-do about it when they sailed from Italy."
Hinds nodded. Jack blinked and took a long look over his shoulder at the door the woman had gone out of.
"She's not Italian," he said when he turned back.
"No. She ain't."