AN: Now you know a little more about Daniel...thanks for the reviews! Tell me if you think it's getting boring, too solemn, or whatever, because all criticism is appreciated! Next time, they'll crack the code. And maybe finally feed themselves.

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"Now that we're underway, Reverend, the Captain will see you," said one of the men. Annamaria and Jack were shepherded together and up to the bridge, where a few of the sailors on duty straightened up from their scrubbing to give them unfriendly stares. The captain of the ship, a jovial (or so he liked to appear) man but past his prime, beamed cordially at them, and, rubbing his hands, said:

"I'm Captain Hakes - welcome aboard, you're very welcome."

As Jack nodded in response he could have sworn he heard someone behind him shuffle his feet and mutter, "No, they're not." Choosing to ignore it, if he had even heard it, the captain continued his monologue.

"Splendid! We don't usually accommodate passengers on the 'Adversary' but your case was pleaded so eloquently in the letter that I felt compelled to accept. I trust you won't find the room cramped? Some might say a woman is bad luck on board, but not I! We had no word of Mrs Walters or your servant, but I'm sure my able first mate has put you in the picture already...yes? Good. Well! Luncheon at noon, I think."

With that, the captain departed into a cabin off the bridge with a vague wave of his hand. Jack took that to mean that they were dismissed.

"Luncheon," he whispered to Annamaria, "is one of the best words I've heard all day."

Annamaria couldn't deny that she was starving. She hadn't had anything to eat for at least a day, and the hour of noon couldn't come soon enough. The sun had finally come out from behind its overcoat of cloud and its rays illuminated the ship, the creamy sails almost blinding in their reflection of light. As they turned to go, however, something occurred to spoil her blithe mood. Walking through the ranks of sailors as they followed the first mate, Oldbourn, foul remarks and catcalls followed them:

"The churchie's got 'imself a dirty black 'un, ain't 'e? Tain't right, whites marryin' savages."

"Only good fer one thing, they are, an' ye gotta pay 'em after."

Oldbourn turned around and smirked at them. Jack felt Annamaria stiffen by his side, her muscles tensing to spring, and closed his eyes while he anticipated in despair a repeat performance of the gaoler's humiliation that morning.

"Luv," he whispered urgently, grasping her arm so tightly that it hurt, "a minister's wife does not spit." He steered her quickly off the deck and below, calling over his shoulder "I need to have a moment with my wife in our cabin."

Down below, Annamaria flung off his arm as though it stung her.

"What did you do that for?" she flashed, slapping him in the face. "Do you think I haven't heard that kind of talk before?"

Daniel stood up as they slammed into the cabin, but neither of them noticed him.

"Of course you've heard that talk, everyone has." Jack replied. "I thought you were going to do something stupid, so I held you back." As she raised her hand for another hit, his hand came up quickly to catch her wrist. She tried to draw her arm back, but he gripped it like steel. "I thought you were going to gouge his eyes out, do something desperately unladylike."

Daniel raised an eyebrow as now Jack began to force her arm down, backing Annamaria against the wall. He held her there, pinioned for a few seconds, as his eyes bore into hers. Then his other hand began to push her other, dislocated, shoulder against the wall as she cried out in pain. From Annamaria's perspective it felt like hours before she broke eye contact and jerked out grudgingly, "I was going to scratch that smirk off First Mate Oldbourn's face, all right?"

Jack released her, and she held her wrist against her cheek, rubbing it on her face because her other arm was in its sling. "You hurt me," she said accusingly.

"You started it," Jack said peaceably, his palms outstretched.

"You didn't fight fairly," Daniel's voice cut in. "Capitalising on her sore shoulder."

"I'm a pirate," Jack said exasperated, "and capitalising on weaknesses is what we do best, savvy? Besides, if she'd had accepted that I removed her from the deck for a reason, we'd none of us have got to this point."

He swaggered over to the table provided for Reverend Walters and sat in the one chair. Silence reigned in the cabin for a few moments as all three took stock of their surroundings. A utilitarian iron bed occupied one corner of the cabin, which was a spacious cabin for one but slightly cramped with its present occupants. The wooden table at which Jack sat was bolted to the floor in another corner, and Walters' trunk sat in the middle of the floor. The rest of the fittings were sparse. Perhaps this had been the first or second mate's cabin, Jack surmised, and he had had cleared it out for the guests. Presently Daniel spoke.

"I have looked through the minister's belongings," he said slowly. "There isn't much. Writing materials, a couple of books, spare robes."

Annamaria was glad of the break in the oppressive silence. "What are the books?"

"I don't know," Daniel said hesitatingly. "I...I cannot read their titles."

Annamaria walked to the trunk, swaying with the movement of the ship, and knelt in front of it. Fishing around with her good arm, she pulled out one book and looked at the cover. Then she put it down and probed for the other.

"A Bible and a copy of Shakespeare's 'The Tempest'," she announced. As she went to put them back in the chest, another, smaller book fell out from where it was tucked inside the covers of the play. A single word was scrawled on the front. Annamaria sounded the unfamiliar word out. "Ooh...lice...sez. Oolicesez? What's that?" She flipped the book open, and then banged it to the floor. "It's in some other language, not English."

Jack leaned over from the chair to peer at the book. "Ulysses, luv. I think it's Greek. Our dear friend Reverend Walters must be a man of letters."

"You can read, too?" Annamaria asked, then: "What is Ulysses?"

"Not what, luv, who," Jack drawled, "and I can't read Greek. My mam told me the story of Ulysses when I was young. Sea journeys, and all that."

Annamaria and Daniel both stared at him. Bothered, Jack said "What?"

"I can't imagine your mother," Annamaria said. Then she choked back a laugh as an image of an unmistakeable Jack on his mother's knee at age eight entered her head, complete with assorted beads and jewellery.

"Tell us the story one day," Daniel said as Jack got up and scooped the books back into the trunk.

"Daniel," Jack began, and then stopped. "It strikes me that all of us have some stories to be telling one another on this voyage, and you being a completely unknown entity to both of us...you will start us off."

As Daniel made no move to open his mouth, Jack waved his hands in encouragement. "Let's hear it!"

"Do you want my life story or why I am here with you?" Daniel finally said.

"I think the most recent events will suffice for now." Jack replied. He and Annamaria settled themselves in attitudes of listening as Daniel began to speak.

"I am here because this morning I was hiding just outside the vestry of St James' Church, Port Royal." Jack stiffened imperceptibly. "I was there because I had just been into the church, thinking in my innocence that it would be a safe hiding place for something very dear to me. I was quite sure that nobody would bother to look in the musty shelves, or indeed had been up there for years...the dust was overwhelming. I carefully cut out the inner section of one of the old Bibles, the big ones, and slipped my little package inside. I had just left the vestry when I heard someone else come in. That, I wasn't expecting, so I stayed with my ear to the wall. I clearly heard some mumbling about a Common Prayer. You can imagine how horrified I was when I started hearing books thud to the table, and then a pause."

Jack reached into his cassock to check the leather book was safe, tucked next to his skin, while never breaking eye contact with Daniel. Annamaria listened, sure that these two men were sharing an experience which she had no part of - but she was insanely curious.

"I peeked into the vestry. You were just tucking my charge into your robes. I slipped out and hid in the congregation...for someone who had never christened a child, you did remarkably well. I thought you were a minister, maybe a minister who'd had a little too much communion wine but still, a minister - until the disturbance at the door. I had to know who you were, if you weren't the Reverend Walters. Then I connected you with some mumbling about the famous pirate Jack Sparrow that I had heard, captured and awaiting execution in Port Royal Gaol, and I knew."

"So you followed us," Annamaria said.

"No - I lost track of him among the alleys. Then I found you both together."

"Why did you hide the Bible?" Jack said. "And who wrote the code that's with it, if you can't read?"

"Is it a code?" Daniel asked eagerly. "Have you broken it?"

"I can honestly say that I haven't had a lot of time this morning," Jack said, glancing at Annamaria. "Been busy with other things. But two hands have written the parchment and one was a little more specific than the other." He held up his hand and read: "'And in those days shall men seek death, and will not find it; they shall desire to die, and death shall flee before them.' Any idea what that means, Daniel?"

Daniel breathed slowly out. "The curse..." he sighed. "He knew of it, of course."

Then he appeared to clam up, as if he had said too much. They waited for him to continue, but a cloak of silence seemed to have descended on the cabin.

"Of course," Jack echoed mockingly, his voice sounding loud in the stillness. "I think we may have to hear a little more of your life story before I give you back what's yours."

He got up and walked out of the room, closing the door exaggeratedly softly. Annamaria was left to stare curiously at the bowed fair head, before Daniel too stalked out of the room. Suddenly all the aches and pains of the morning and the night before came back, and she crawled onto the bed, cradling her arm and rocked to sleep by the rolling ship.