Part Two: Dark Rum

Captain Jack Sparrow left The Drunken Tortoise considerably more intoxicated than he had been when he entered. His choice of zigzagged paths was not only due to the need to avoid the continuing mayhem in the street, and his arm, that wasn't wrapped around the whore, waved in mad circles in attempt to keep him balanced. The girl let out raucous laughs as wobbled with him, none too sober herself.

Jack didn't notice the dark shapes following him.

The pirate captain and wench skirted away from a bloodthirsty fight filling the road by taking a narrow street to the left. Several wrong turns later, they found themselves heading into the outskirts of the town. There were few lights, doors were bolted on the inside and shutters latched down over the windows. The girl rubbed her chilled arms and pressed closer against Jack, as they stopped in the centre of a crossroads to regain their bearings.

Suddenly, the girl shrieked.

The moonlight caught the edge of a blade off to Jack's left. A tall figure followed it. The soft tread of boots told him that three more approached from the right.

The girl pulled away from Jack's side and stood trembling behind him for a few moments, before deciding the only safe course of action was to flee. She ran back the way they had come, none of the men moving to stop her.

Captain Jack Sparrow drew his sword, his own blade flashing in the silver light. He inwardly pushed back the effects of the rum and took up a defensive stance, preparing for the first blow to come from either side.

Metal sung through the air from his left. He ducked and rolled forward. Turned around, and sprang from a crouch. His sword struck the attacking blade, pushing the attacker back. With horrid surprise, Jack recognised the man the move brought him face-to-face with: Le Fey.

The man's sunken grey eyes bored into Jack's charcoal-lined brown ones. This was a planned attack.

Le Fey shoved Jack away and stepped back into the shadows.

The pirate captain was kept busy parrying the three other blades that came sweeping towards him from all angles. He could only strain his senses to try to discern where the ambush's leader had moved to. The other attackers were all beefy men who wielded heavy swords, which they crashed into Jack's with such force that the pirate captain feared either his blade or the bones in his arm would shatter under the blows.

Jack danced away from the other blades, trying to get far enough away to be able to turn and make a run for it. Out in the open, he was surrounded and it wouldn't take long before he started to falter as he tired. The odds were against him. A stumble could be fatal.

Finally, Captain Jack Sparrow managed to push back two of his attackers, then used a feint to get past the third. The alleyway was clear ahead of him and he ran.

His sword blocked the soaring blade an inch from his face, as he sharply came to a halt.

Metal glinted again as a dagger rose from the gloom and made for his neck.

Jack dodged, but not quite quick enough. Fiery pain burned across his upper right arm. Grimacing, he staggered back and clutched at the wound with his left hand. Blood seeped through his fingers.

The pirate captain's sword was still raised and his eyes flamed with anger as well as pain.

"What do you want?" Jack growled, glaring at the smirking man in front of him.

"I thought ye'd never ask," Le Fey said, sheathing his dagger and lowering his sword so that its tip rested on the ground.

Jack heard the three other men step into a threatening semicircle formation behind him and then sheath their blades. He hesitantly dropped both of his arms to his sides, his senses still keenly alert.

"What're the co-ordinates fer Isla de Muerte?" Le Fey demanded to know.

"I'm sorry, where?" Jack tilted his head innocently.

"Give me the compass."

Jack's gaze remained steady, refusing to give a telltale glance at the compass tied to his belt. "Could you be more specific? I have more than one. Would it be a particular compass you be wanting?"

"The one tha' don't point North."

"What good is a compass that doesn't point North, eh?" Jack asked, frowning as he lifted a thoughtful finger to his lips.

"That compass will lead me t' Cortés's treasure."

"Really?" Jack raised his eyebrows.

"Enough games, Sparrow," Le Fey snarled. "Tell me what I want t' know."

"I won't tell you," Jack replied, coldly defiant, and tightened his grip on the hilt of his lowered sword.

"Ah." In a flash, Le Fey's sword flicked up and its tip pressed lightly against Jack's neck. "I think ye will."

"You really want to be cursed?" Jack asked, seriously, with a genuine frown this time.

"Aye. I want immortality."

"Immortality comes with a hefty price, mate."

"I'm willin' t' pay."

"You don't know what you're saying."

"Perhaps I'm not bein' clear enough…" Le Fey pressed the sword harder against Jack's throat, not quite drawing blood. "Tell me wha' I want t' know or ye die."

Jack opened his mouth as if to speak and then paused, his left hand hesitantly reaching for the blade against his Adam's apple. Le Fey obligingly retracted the sword a few inches, which was all Jack needed.

The pirate captain brought his sword crashing against Le Fey's, swiftly sinking to his knees. He moved to the side and rose up to his full height again. His left hand drew his pistol from his waist. He cocked it, aimed and fired.

The released bullet blasted through Le Fey's chest and directly into his heart. The tall man fell, dark blood pooling down his filthy shirt.

Behind Jack, the three heavies roared and their swords scrapped out of their scabbards.

Captain Jack Sparrow shoved his spent pistol back into his belt and ran.

Three pairs of boots thudded against the road after him. As Jack reached the end of the alley, a pistol fired and its bullet whistled past his head. The sounds of heavy running steps echoed off the walls, making it difficult for him to tell how close they were getting.

Suddenly, an arm appeared from behind the wall and grabbed Jack's. He was pulled roughly out of the road and into a dark doorway.