Show Me the Horizon
Chapter 17
From the deck of the Black Pearl, Elizabeth caught sight of the duel on the deck of the Banshee. Snatching the telescope from Gibbs, she shrieked, "It's Will! He's fighting with LeSerre." Shoving the telescope back at Gibbs, she rushed along the deck. "Get closer to the Banshee!" she shouted to Cotton who had the helm. "We must help him!"
--
Grimly Jack fought on, but he was tiring. DaSilva seemed to be made of steel. Both men now had minor wounds, but Jack's seemed to be leaching away his energy while DaSilva seemed unaffected. The battle noise on the ship seemed to be less now, but Jack didn't dare glance away to see who was winning. The deck was also beginning to tilt under his feet and he was afraid the Catalina was starting to go down. Hopefully Markson would cut loose before the Catalina sank too much. Gritting his teeth, he flicked his sword in a complicated pattern, hoping to confuse his opponent. DaSilva managed to parry the final stroke, but at the cost of a slash across his hip.
Annamaria had managed to get close to the duel without being noticed by the fighting Spanish or the English soldiers. From what she could tell, the English were winning, though that didn't help her much. A noose in Port Royal wasn't any better than a Spanish dungeon, really. Her only hope lay with the man fighting before her. And Jack was visibly tiring.
"Had about enough?" taunted DaSilva. "Cry quarter, Sparrow."
"And I suppose you'd honor it?" panted Jack. "I don't fancy spending the rest of my life in a Spanish dungeon. And what about your ship? It's sinking, can't you tell?"
"She'll hold until I reach Havana," snarled DaSilva.
"No she won't." Disengaging, Jack stepped several paces back, lowering his sword, though still keeping it ready. A quick glance showed very few of the Spanish still fighting. The English soldiers were rounding up those who remained. "And even if she did, your crew is being defeated as we speak." He gestured toward the rest of the deck. "You'd have no one to sail it. You're done, DaSilva. Surrender."
"To you?" sneered DaSilva.
"Why yes!" answered Jack in a cocky tone. "I've just become a privateer. Funny old world, innit?"
"I'll not," spat DaSilva. Swiftly he pulled out his pistol and aimed at Jack. A loud shot was heard. Jack flinched, then seemed surprised to find himself still standing. DaSilva's face registered astonishment, and he pitched forward to lie still. Behind him, pistol smoking, stood Annamaria.
"Good God, lass, what are you doing here?" Jack sputtered in surprise.
"Saving your skin, Captain," she replied, lowering the pistol. "What the hell do you mean, you've just become a privateer?"
A bell began to sound from the Dauntless. "Long story. First things first." Turning toward the deck he shouted, "Soldiers, back to the Dauntless, bring all prisoners! Hurry! This tub is sinking!"
--
The bow of the Banshee started to sink at twice the rate it had previously. Startled, Will slipped toward the starboard rail, near the bow, turning at the last moment to parry a thrust from LeSerre. "Going to go down with the ship, Captain?" taunted Will.
"Only if you go with me," panted LeSerre.
"Not today," Will answered grimly. His sword flicked under LeSerre's guard and slashed him on the wrist. When LeSerre's arm dropped, Will ran him through the chest. LeSerre stiffened and dropped his sword. Will wrenched his sword back and watched LeSerre fall to the deck. A loud creaking sound announced that the ship was breaking up. "So sorry I can't stay," said Will, dropping his sword onto the deck. He climbed swiftly to the top of the rail, and then dove into the water.
--
Markson stood at the rail, helping the solders, some of them wounded climb over. Annamaria nimbly climbed over and helped Jack after her. "Markson, cut us loose and get us clear," Jack ordered. With Annamaria helping him, he stumbled over to where he'd left Gwen. Norrington was conscious, sitting back up against a wall. "Commodore! You're looking better than when I left."
"You don't," said Norrington bluntly.
"So, are you going to arrest me for mutiny?" quipped Jack.
"It's only mutiny if you keep the ship afterward," said Norrington with a smile - the first real one Jack had ever seen on his face.
"What the devil were you doing cruising around with such an inexperienced second-in-command?" Jack asked Norrington.
Norrington shrugged. "Lt. Gillette was promoted and put in charge of the newest ship in the Caribbean fleet. If I'd expected this voyage to be so exciting, I'd have brought one of the more experienced officers." He turned to Annamaria. "Miss Simone," he nodded courteously. "Please forgive me for not rising."
"Think nothing of it," she answered sarcastically.
Gwen, who'd gone to fetch some clean water, came forward at this point with a basin and a rag and started to sponge the blood from Jack's various wounds. "Oww," he complained. "Don't worry, luv, none of them are serious."
"Shut up and let me look at them," she answered, ripping aside his shirt to examine the wound on his upper arm. "This one will need stitches." She looked up at Annamaria, who was regarding her suspiciously. "You must be Annamaria Simmone."
Annamaria raised an eyebrow. "And you are?"
"Gwen Tracy," introduced Jack. "Old Captain Tracy's daughter, from the Jamaica Star. Remember him?"
"Aye," answered Annamaria, looking speculatively at Gwen.
Suddenly the watchman shouted, "The Banshee is going down!"
Jack and Norrington both struggled to their feet and stumbled to the rail. Looking out they could see the Banshee settling into the water, bow already submerged.
Annamaria bit her lip. "I hope Will got off."
Jack and Norrington's heads both snapped in her direction. "Will!" exclaimed Jack. "Will was on that ship!"
"Aye," said Annamaria faintly.
Chapter 17
From the deck of the Black Pearl, Elizabeth caught sight of the duel on the deck of the Banshee. Snatching the telescope from Gibbs, she shrieked, "It's Will! He's fighting with LeSerre." Shoving the telescope back at Gibbs, she rushed along the deck. "Get closer to the Banshee!" she shouted to Cotton who had the helm. "We must help him!"
--
Grimly Jack fought on, but he was tiring. DaSilva seemed to be made of steel. Both men now had minor wounds, but Jack's seemed to be leaching away his energy while DaSilva seemed unaffected. The battle noise on the ship seemed to be less now, but Jack didn't dare glance away to see who was winning. The deck was also beginning to tilt under his feet and he was afraid the Catalina was starting to go down. Hopefully Markson would cut loose before the Catalina sank too much. Gritting his teeth, he flicked his sword in a complicated pattern, hoping to confuse his opponent. DaSilva managed to parry the final stroke, but at the cost of a slash across his hip.
Annamaria had managed to get close to the duel without being noticed by the fighting Spanish or the English soldiers. From what she could tell, the English were winning, though that didn't help her much. A noose in Port Royal wasn't any better than a Spanish dungeon, really. Her only hope lay with the man fighting before her. And Jack was visibly tiring.
"Had about enough?" taunted DaSilva. "Cry quarter, Sparrow."
"And I suppose you'd honor it?" panted Jack. "I don't fancy spending the rest of my life in a Spanish dungeon. And what about your ship? It's sinking, can't you tell?"
"She'll hold until I reach Havana," snarled DaSilva.
"No she won't." Disengaging, Jack stepped several paces back, lowering his sword, though still keeping it ready. A quick glance showed very few of the Spanish still fighting. The English soldiers were rounding up those who remained. "And even if she did, your crew is being defeated as we speak." He gestured toward the rest of the deck. "You'd have no one to sail it. You're done, DaSilva. Surrender."
"To you?" sneered DaSilva.
"Why yes!" answered Jack in a cocky tone. "I've just become a privateer. Funny old world, innit?"
"I'll not," spat DaSilva. Swiftly he pulled out his pistol and aimed at Jack. A loud shot was heard. Jack flinched, then seemed surprised to find himself still standing. DaSilva's face registered astonishment, and he pitched forward to lie still. Behind him, pistol smoking, stood Annamaria.
"Good God, lass, what are you doing here?" Jack sputtered in surprise.
"Saving your skin, Captain," she replied, lowering the pistol. "What the hell do you mean, you've just become a privateer?"
A bell began to sound from the Dauntless. "Long story. First things first." Turning toward the deck he shouted, "Soldiers, back to the Dauntless, bring all prisoners! Hurry! This tub is sinking!"
--
The bow of the Banshee started to sink at twice the rate it had previously. Startled, Will slipped toward the starboard rail, near the bow, turning at the last moment to parry a thrust from LeSerre. "Going to go down with the ship, Captain?" taunted Will.
"Only if you go with me," panted LeSerre.
"Not today," Will answered grimly. His sword flicked under LeSerre's guard and slashed him on the wrist. When LeSerre's arm dropped, Will ran him through the chest. LeSerre stiffened and dropped his sword. Will wrenched his sword back and watched LeSerre fall to the deck. A loud creaking sound announced that the ship was breaking up. "So sorry I can't stay," said Will, dropping his sword onto the deck. He climbed swiftly to the top of the rail, and then dove into the water.
--
Markson stood at the rail, helping the solders, some of them wounded climb over. Annamaria nimbly climbed over and helped Jack after her. "Markson, cut us loose and get us clear," Jack ordered. With Annamaria helping him, he stumbled over to where he'd left Gwen. Norrington was conscious, sitting back up against a wall. "Commodore! You're looking better than when I left."
"You don't," said Norrington bluntly.
"So, are you going to arrest me for mutiny?" quipped Jack.
"It's only mutiny if you keep the ship afterward," said Norrington with a smile - the first real one Jack had ever seen on his face.
"What the devil were you doing cruising around with such an inexperienced second-in-command?" Jack asked Norrington.
Norrington shrugged. "Lt. Gillette was promoted and put in charge of the newest ship in the Caribbean fleet. If I'd expected this voyage to be so exciting, I'd have brought one of the more experienced officers." He turned to Annamaria. "Miss Simone," he nodded courteously. "Please forgive me for not rising."
"Think nothing of it," she answered sarcastically.
Gwen, who'd gone to fetch some clean water, came forward at this point with a basin and a rag and started to sponge the blood from Jack's various wounds. "Oww," he complained. "Don't worry, luv, none of them are serious."
"Shut up and let me look at them," she answered, ripping aside his shirt to examine the wound on his upper arm. "This one will need stitches." She looked up at Annamaria, who was regarding her suspiciously. "You must be Annamaria Simmone."
Annamaria raised an eyebrow. "And you are?"
"Gwen Tracy," introduced Jack. "Old Captain Tracy's daughter, from the Jamaica Star. Remember him?"
"Aye," answered Annamaria, looking speculatively at Gwen.
Suddenly the watchman shouted, "The Banshee is going down!"
Jack and Norrington both struggled to their feet and stumbled to the rail. Looking out they could see the Banshee settling into the water, bow already submerged.
Annamaria bit her lip. "I hope Will got off."
Jack and Norrington's heads both snapped in her direction. "Will!" exclaimed Jack. "Will was on that ship!"
"Aye," said Annamaria faintly.