AUTHOR'S BRIEF NOTE ABOUT THE THIRD CHAPTER- Heylo everyone! I made a few minor changes in the third chapter, mostly to Jack character and speech. Anyhow, I added a paragraph after Lena's "That's our secret" spiel about where the wine came from. It's not essential to the story, but it might give you a clue what Jack's up to. ^_-
Grace was beginning to feel much better. She wasn't quite certain whether it was the odd brew Lena had given her, her embarrassing rant to Jack, or something else entirely, but whatever it was had diminished the headache and nausea to a point where she hardly noticed them when she stood.
"I have to leave Port Royale," she said, only really speaking to Elizabeth and her husband-to-be. She felt a lump form in her throat as the words slipped out. She hadn't really considered what leaving meant. It meant no more shopping trips on crowed streets with Elizabeth and no more lessons in swordsmanship from Will. She wouldn't hear any more pirate tales from the pair (though she had a feeling pirate tales themselves weren't at all out of the picture) and she wouldn't get to tell them the rest of that story about how she taught her colt to bow. There would be no more pleasant dinners with Elizabeth and her father, no more lunches with her friends at random pubs they found in the city. Sneaking out to visit The Tattered Rose in the middle of the night was most definitely out of the question. She'd leave behind Garth, Lena and all of those tavern patrons who were fond of Grey. Even Mrs. James wouldn't be joining her on this trip. A pang of regret struck her and she quelled the tears that threatened to strike once more. Leaving Port Royale was necessary. The time for her to be a sentimental fool had passed, if there'd ever truly been a time for such folly. The thought of leaving her old companion did jog her memory, however.
"Somehow I have to get a message Mrs. James. I have to let her know that I'm going to be all right," she told the pair, eyes pleading.
"Is 'at the ole woman ye've got buyin' things in the market?" Garth asked reminding her that there were more than three people in the room. "Always wears that black woolen thing an' 'as short, curlin' 'air?" Grace, a little surprised, nodded at him.
"Leave 'at tae me, then. I see 'er pickin' up fruits most days jus' down the street," he said with a smile, glad to be helpful.
"Thank you!" she crossed the room in a few strides and hugged him. The startled man patted her on the back after a moment of indecision. Grace turned after she'd nearly squeezed the breath from the man. Elizabeth and Will were watching her, more than a little amusement visible in their eyes. Gibbs had walked to the table and he and Jack were now conversing in low voices.
"I'm going to miss the pair of you," she said to the couple in a quiet voice.
"Do you really think I'm going to leave you alone with him?" Elizabeth asked loudly.
"Ah," Jack ducked his head around Gibbs, raising his hand a bit. "That might not be the best of ideas, Elizabeth darling." The woman turned on Jack, eyes narrowed.
"And why not?" she inquired, her voice full of warning.
"Have I ever given ye any reason not to trust me?" Elizabeth rolled her eyes at this. "Everything came out in the end, didn't it?" he asked, rising to stand beside Gibbs. Grace noticed suddenly that his black coat and hat were gone and gave a cursory glance around the room. Not seeing them she turned back to the others. Jack was crossing the room in his leisurely swagger, heading for Elizabeth and Will. "Next time I'm in the neighborhood, I'll come and find ye and Will and we'll all sail off into the sunset. On me honor as a pirate. Ye'll just have to wait a little longer," he punctuated his speech with various hand movements, and Grace found her eyes drawn to the rapidly moving appendages. Elizabeth gave a little 'hmph' and Will sighed. Jack turned his attention to Grace.
"Now, we need to get you ready to go," he said, looking her over. "I suppose all your men's clothes are back at your little house." She nodded.
"I've got some things that might fit her," Will spoke up. "Besides, if my pupil is leaving, I should probably give her birthday present to her a little early." Grace looked at him in surprise—her eighteenth birthday was nearly six months away, why would he have gotten her something already? Will smiled at her.
"My effects, dear Lena," Jack said with a smile. The barmaid rolled her eyes before ducking behind the bar and bringing out his coat and hat. He took them from her, shoved the hat onto his head and then donned the dark coat. He reached for the bottle and handed it to her.
"Hang on to this for me, dear," he said before turning to the others. "Lead on, matey," Jack said to Will, gesturing to the door. Will nodded a goodbye to Lena and started to the door, Elizabeth and a wildly waving Grace behind him.
"Good luck, lassie," the barmaid said with a wave and a smile. "I'm sure you'll need it…" she muttered under her breath, with a glance at Sparrow, who was trailing behind the trio with Garth and Gibbs.
The group headed to the smithy, the pirates following at a bit of a distance. Once all were safely inside, and the donkey had been calmed by her master (one look at Jack and she'd started to circle her pole), Will disappeared into his rooms near the back of the shop. He returned laden with two long wooden boxes, several articles of clothing, and a worn pair of boots. He handed the clothes—all of them older garments that were showing their age—along with the boots to Grace.
"You can change back there," he nodded to the doorway from whence he'd just returned.
"Right," she said, cradling the fabric in her arms as she picked her way across the dirt floor. The boots knocked against her skirt, muddying it even more. She ducked into the spare room, dropped the boots on the floor and set the clothes on the bed. She pulled the blue dress over her head and tossed it onto the bed beside Will's clothes, then did the same with her shift. She pulled on the shirt and pants, glad to find that the shirt was loose enough not to draw attention to her chest. She pulled the tan vest he'd given her on over the shirt—it, too, had a loose enough fit not to call too much attention. She smiled as she tied the rag-tag faded blue sash around her waist, hoping it would help keep the slightly too large pants she wore from abandoning her. Next she pulled on the boots—also too big. She'd begun to glance about the room, wondering what to do (loose boots aren't good for running), when her eyes fell upon the discarded shift. Sparrow'd never mentioned anything about wanting the shift…She grinned wickedly as she tore several strips from the garment's hem, then stuffed them into the toes of the boots. Her hair was the final bit she bothered with. She reached up and violently ruffled the dark curls, twisting them further here, drawing them out to make them appear as straight as she could there. When she was satisfied, she tore a strip from the sash's end and used it to tie her hair in a loose tail. She looked down at herself, pleased with the feel of the comfortable—if threadbare—cloth against her skin.
In the front room, Jack was regarding the wooden box Will held out to him with curiosity, his eyebrows raised. He took it with great care, studying the dark case.
"Well? Aren't you going to open it?" the young blacksmith asked impatiently. Without looking up, the pirate unhooked the simple clasp and opened the box. Laid carefully inside was a sheathed sword. The hilt was simple enough, though a band of real gold spiraled up the grip. He lifted the sword, balancing the box for a moment in his other hand until Will took it back. He drew the blade, glad to feel a nearly perfect balance—Will was very good at what he did. It was a bit of a shame, really, that he wanted to turn pirate. Then again, he wasn't a bad pirate, either. He sheathed the sword and smiled at his young friend.
"And whatever might the occasion be?" he asked.
"It's my thanks, for helping me save Elizabeth," he said solemnly. Jack nodded.
"Me thanks, Will. This may be the finest blade I've ever set my hands on," he replied. The young man practically swelled with pride.
"Now, why is it you don't want us joining you? We've been ready to leave at a moment's notice for two months, ever since we got your message. Now you turn up and tell us we're going to be left behind again," Elizabeth was giving him a stern look.
"You'll see why soon enough, darling," he said, jabbing a hand in her direction. "For now, you'll just have to trust me," he continued, his eyes imploring. This did nothing but give Elizabeth more cause to roll her eyes.
"Fine," she assented ruefully.
"How do I look?" Grace asked, making her way back into the room, dress and shift thrown over her right shoulder. Jack reviewed her carefully. The clothes were old—no problems there. Indeed, everything about the outfit spoke of use and age. Aside from her being a little too clean, she'd pass off just fine. Beside him there was a sharp intake of breath.
"I 'ad me suspicions, but I ne'er really believed it," Garth was staring at the young woman. Suddenly, he began to laugh a deep, hearty laugh as though he'd just been let in on a wonderfully entertaining joke. "Ye're a smart lass, I'll give ye that!" Grace, Jack saw, was smiling, a slight blush creeping into her cheeks.
"Grace," Will said, picking the second box up from where he'd set it on the floor. "This was going to be your eighteenth birthday present, now we'll just call it a 'going-away' present, eh?" he pulled back the lid so she could see the sword within. Her face lit up in delight.
"You really didn't have to," she began to protest.
"You've done enough around here that I think you deserve it," Will smiled. "Besides, you'll probably need it."
With great care, she took the weapon from its resting place. It was very similar to Jack's own new toy, but the hilt was inlaid with silver instead of gold. She drew it with a ring of steel and slashed through the air so fast he heard the blade sing. The girl had her back to them now, but when she turned he was pleased to find a look of absolute joy. She replaced the weapon in its sheath and threw her arms around Will's neck.
"Thank you so much, Will!" she said, looking as though she could dance a jig. Jack grinned.
"Well," he said, drawing everyone's attention. "I have one minor piece of business to take care of and then we can all be on our way. Except for you two," he gestured at Will and Elizabeth. "Now, I think it's best that all of you stay here and avoid doing anything stupid," he gave Will a long hard look. "Except…Coop, would you be ever so kind as to help me with what I'm about to do?" he was already turning to the door.
"Aye, Sparrow, I'll 'elp ye," Garth replied, and the two were gone in a flash of light from the open door.
Grace sighed. Captain Sparrow and Garth had been gone for nearly an hour now. She and Will had gone through a friendly bout after they left—she'd been very eager to try out her new blade. It had been close, but Will had caught her right side open and "killed" her. She now sat on the ground beside the donkey, her right hand clutching Will's present, her left scratching the donkey behind her ear. Will was catching up with Gibbs, and Elizabeth had disappeared into Will's room about five minutes ago. She'd laid the dress and now-ruined shift on a vacant stool. Until a few weeks before she'd arrived, Will had been an apprentice here. The old blacksmith had apparently gotten himself a little too drunk one night and met a bad end in a dark alley. He didn't seem sorely missed.
Footfalls behind her told her Elizabeth was approaching and she turned as much as she could to see her. The older woman knelt beside Grace, clutching something tightly in her fist.
"Give me your hand," she said, her mouth solemn, her eyes sparkling with delight. Grace took her hand off the donkey and did as she was told—her friend dropped something light into it. It rattled as it exchanged hands. She raised it up to get a better look at it. The object was a bracelet and hanging from it were all manner of coins, beads and even seashells. It jingled as she moved her hand, making her smile.
"I was saving this for you birthday, but I think now's just as good a time," Elizabeth said, taking it back and circling it about the younger woman's right wrist before clasping it.
"It's wonderful," Grace said, feeling the lump rise in her throat again. She felt horrible about leaving the couple. They were the first friends she'd made that were anywhere near her age and she would miss them dearly. "I feel horrible—I didn't get either of you anything."
"You can avoid marrying that foul pig Brody and that's present enough for me any day," Elizabeth grinned, tousling the girl's hair.
The door creaked open and everyone looked up. Jack and Garth had finally returned.
"All set?" Jack asked quickly. Grace had barely nodded before he was reaching down to help her up. "Then let's get out of here."
She took his hand—it was rough and damp with sweat. He easily pulled her to her feet. Beside her, Elizabeth rose as well. Jack scooped the dress and shift up and threw them over his shoulder. They said their farewells quickly and Grace found them difficult to remember later on. She did remember, however, that she, Jack and Gibbs were making their way through the crowded streets far too soon for her liking. It was perhaps an hour or two after noon, she judged by the sun. Had she really been fleeing her father and Brody only five hours before? The three of them slipped through the crowd easily, Jack's guiding hand on her shoulder most of the way. It didn't take her long to realize they were headed away from the docks.
"Jack," she said in a hushed voice.
"Yes, love?" he replied in a whisper, not tearing his gaze from the street.
"Where are we going?"
"The ship, of course, where else?"
"Right, then," she said, deciding not to press the matter. The Captain Jack Sparrow in Will's tales always had a plan. The Captain Jack Sparrow in Elizabeth's stories was sometimes a different matter, however…Her hand found its way to the hilt of the sword, which she'd tucked through her sash, bracelet jingling all the more for it. She missed the pair already.
The crowds on the street began to diminish and it wasn't long before they were out of the city entirely. In the year that Grace had lived in Port Royale, she'd never ventured here, into the outskirts of the city. Soon they were making their way along a secluded trail roofed in palm trees, not a building in sight. Gibbs led the way, Grace behind him and Jack bringing up the rear. The ground beneath her feet slowly became sandier, and they emerged from the shade of the palms onto a small white beach. The sight took her breath away. The green bushes and trees gave way to the impeccable white of the sun-bleached sand and tall cliffs fenced the beach to the right and left. Before her was the vast Caribbean sea, a pure, jovial blue that matched the sky and called to her, begging her to dash through the waves.
"Come on, lovey," Jack patted her back; she'd stopped right in front of him without even realizing it. She looked up to see him gazing at the sea, a broad smile on his weathered face. She now noticed the boat that had been pulled far onto shore—nearly to the tree line. Gibbs was already beginning to push it toward the waves that lapped the shore and she followed Jack to help them with it. She glanced often at the sea as she walked, and suddenly a dark shape became visible around one of the cliffs. As she kept walking, the shape became further visible and resolved itself into a ship. She heard her own sharp intake of breath and an almost silent chuckle from the pirate captain.
"That's the Black Pearl," he said quietly. Her lips formed a silent 'O' that Jack never saw—her back was to him. Bringing herself to her senses, she jogged after Jack, who had thrown the dress into the boat and was already helping Gibbs push the rowboat. The three of them made a trail from tree line to shoreline, pushing and pulling the small vessel to the water. With a final push and a subdued splash the boat hit water. Gibbs crawled over the side and sat down, picking up the oars as he did so.
"In ye go," Jack told her. She was now up to her knees in water. She gave a little hop and tried to pull herself over the side—to no avail. Jack gave her a look that said, 'Hurry up, we haven't got all damn day,' and she gave another little hop. This time she was successful—mostly because Jack had given her rump a push. She felt the boat give a little wiggle and Jack was in the boat behind her. The vessel was a little off-balanced, she mused as Gibbs began to row from his place on the center seat, but in little danger of capsizing. The lap of the oars hitting the water drew her attention from the boat upward and her eyes immediately found the ship. They were on their way now.
The thought occurred to her quite abruptly. She was in a boat, headed out to sea. She was out of her father's grasp and the impending dread of her wedding. She was finally free—all of the time now, not just when she slipped out of the house in the middle of the night. She was suddenly giddy beyond belief, looking around and grinning at everything she saw. As the ship slowly became both larger and closer, her stomach began to roil with nerves. She was about to board a pirate ship. Excitement fought with the butterflies in her stomach as wondered what, exactly, she'd be doing on the journey to Tortuga.
As they neared the ship, she saw that those aboard were scurrying about, already rigging it to sail. She heard a voice shouting orders, the echoed 'aye!'s of the crew, the hollow pounding of feet on the deck, as well as bawdy laughter of the men on board. Before long, she was looking up at the ship. They had reached the Black Pearl.
Yipes! Sorry I was so late getting this chapter out. I spent most of the day yesterday staring at a mostly blank screen, wondering which direction I should take. Thankfully I got over that little spat.^_^ I'm glad you're enjoying the story so far and I hope this chapter is just as (or perhaps more) enjoyable than the last few. Now that they've reached the ship, things should get a bit more interesting, eh?^_^ A great big bear hug and 'THANK YOU' to everybody who's reviewed. It's nice to know that someone besides my mother and I are enjoying this piece.^_^;;
Havoc raised a question—did rum exist in the 1400's? Nope. Didn't do enough homework on that bottle.-_-;; Anyway, from what I've found, rum was first refined by a priest living in the West Indies, Father Labat. The priest took sick and a clerk gave him a local remedy of alcohol and sugarcane called Kaniche, which supposedly helped him recover. After his recovery, Labat spent several years studying and refining the beverage until a new drink had been born. That drink was rum. The date was probably around 1700. Anyway, the bottle in our tale is now red wine.^-^
Thanks for reading!^_-