Disclaimer: see chapter 1
Author's note: A brief note regarding dates: this fic's taking place from about 1655 (chapter 1), so it's now about 1660. A turbulent historical period for England, as Cromwell's government crumbled and eventually fell with his death in 1658; Charles II took the throne back in 1660. I would dearly love to know what the East India Company, an institution founded by Elizabeth I, fitted into this - I'm having serious research difficulties and if anyone happens to know more about the workings of the EIC, particularly in the mid-seventeenth century, I would be eternally grateful. So there are very likely some historical inaccuracies here. One thing that is accurate is the port I've set the EIC in - Fort St. George became Madras, now also known as Chennai. The fort was built in 1644. So now you know.
Thanks for the continued reviews!
----
The crew did not take the news that their cabin boy was female well. There was much talk of bad luck, and much muttering and gesturing in Anamaria's direction. To his annoyance, Jack got a fair amount of the blame for their cabin boy's deception.
"Now, come on, that just ain't fair!" he burst out eventually, after Joffo had become the sixth pirate to come and tell him that he should have twigged Anamaria's identity earlier on. "So I spent more time with the lass. But this ship isn't that big, and I'm not the one with daughters. Nor sisters."
"It's true enough that a lad and a lass of yon age look much alike," Thornton conceded.
"Thank you!" Jack said. "There, gentlemen, I rest my case."
His case was helped a little by the fact that Captain Flint had decided not to throw Anamaria off the ship. She had been given extra duties as punishment for her deception, but they needed a cabin boy and she was, at least, capable of the tasks. As a matter of fact, in the days following the change from André to Anamaria, she opened up and became much more lively. Some of the men even found to their surprise that their taciturn cabin boy answered them back, and within a week the grumbles had subsided somewhat.
Their luck continued too, with two more successful attacks on merchants. But the Black Pearl was now riding low in the water and her speed was significantly reduced by the weight of cargo, and eventually Captain Flint decided to order them into land to try and sell some of it off. Accordingly, they turned in towards the Indian coast.
They were one day from port when they saw the other ship. Her sails were new, creamy canvas, and her paintwork shone with gilt. Through the telescope, her name could be read: Silk Princess. "Aye, and she is a princess," Thornton said with envy. "Look at her lines, lad."
Jack agreed that the Princess was a beauty, but he looked up at the Black Pearl's own dark sails, and down at the worn but polished deck, and he found himself unsure that he would want to sail any other vessel. He said so, and Flint, nearby, looked down at him.
"Not to sail, no. There isn't a ship in the world like the Pearl. Not to sail. But to capture ... ah, to capture ..." He looked back at the Silk Princess, and licked his lips. "To capture ...."
"Captain, we're riding too low," Thornton said. "We haven't the speed. Ship like that 'un's going to have fire power beyond ours, too. We cannot take her!"
"Is this not the Black Pearl, feared throughout the Caribbean?" Flint said sharply to his mate. "We're not going to stand by and watch a prize like that slip through our grasp, are we?"
"Allez!" Joffo exclaimed.
"Cap'n ..." Thornton said.
"Oh, ye lily-livered Englishman," O'Connell snorted. "Call yourself a pirate or not? C'mon, Cap'n - we're all wi' ye."
Captain Flint grinned. "Arm the cannon. We'll take her - or what we can of her."
"And give nothing back," a voice said at Jack's elbow. "You think we can do it, Jack?"
Jack turned from the rail to go and fetch his weapons. "I don't know, Anamaria, but those are the captain's orders. Code says we must follow them."
She nodded, and ran off in the opposite direction to start loading the cannon.
By now, the process of firing, closing and attack was second nature to Jack, but he still felt a thrilled rush through his body as the grapples were thrown, the planks laid, and he scampered across to engage the other ship. Shots whistled over his head and he heard a scream, then the splash as the man hit the water. In front of his was a tall, elegant man with an equally elegant rapier, and Jack yelled something incoherent as he rushed in for the attack. All around were cries and shouts as the pirates fought the crew of the Silk Princess. Jack lunged and caught his opponent in the shoulder, and moved past him for the next sailor. His braids whipped round his face as he fought, dancing in and out of the other man's reach, and he was entirely focused on the duel - so focused, in fact, that he barely felt the judder as the cannon roared. Too focused to hear the calls from the Black Pearl to retreat.
But he did hear the high-pitched scream of "Jack!" cutting through the smoke and noise, and he turned and saw, to his everlasting horror, the Pearl already astern of the Silk Princess, her cannon firing one last time as she turned to retreat. By the rail, being restrained by one of the men, was a small dark-haired figure, and her cries drifted over the widening gap.
"Damn," Jack said, and dropped his sword. He measured the water between the ships, and thought that if he moved now he could probably swim it. The rail was low enough to vault, and he bounced backwards on his heels before lunging forward and breaking into a run.
He did not make the rail, instead landing in an undignified heap on the deck with someone's hands clasping his ankle.
"You're under arrest, pirate," a voice said, and Jack closed his eyes.
He was hauled below decks and placed in the ship's brig, a shiny new iron cage with two heavy locks. They confiscated his knife and his sword and manacled his wrists, and left him.
They left him for a long time. Jack sat on the floor of the cage with his head resting against the bars and wondered where the Pearl had gone, and what they were doing now. He wondered whether any of his friends had been killed - it seemed clear they had not been captured, for he was alone.
Eventually there were footsteps on the ladder, and Jack scrambled to his feet. The man that came into view was undoubtedly English, from the neat auburn hair on his head to the silver buckles on his shoes, and he came to stand in front of the brig with his arms folded behind his back.
"Well."
Jack held out his manacled wrists. "Locked up, and handcuffed?" he said. "You must be scared of us."
The Englishman shook his head. "Scared of you, no. We're scared of losing our livelihood, but somehow I find myself undaunted by one small ship of pirates from the Caribbean." He looked Jack up and down. "Particularly pirates who can barely be counted as men. How old are you?"
Jack shrugged. "Lost count, mate," he lied smoothly.
"Huh." The other man seemed unconvinced. "Do you have a name?"
"For friends, aye," Jack said.
"'Tis unimportant - we know the name of your ship, and that is all that matters. But we had reports of you, young man. It seems all your shipmates were of usual pirate stock in garments and manner, but you stand out." He regarded Jack. "Yes, you stand out. You seem unafraid, too, despite the fact your ship limped off defeated with all your friends on board. Not that I expected pirates to behave any better than that."
"Pirates' code," said Jack. "He that falls behind, gets left behind. I fell."
"I see."
"I'm glad you do. Might I have the pleasure of knowing who's detaining me?"
The other man smiled. "You picked the wrong ship to attack today. The East India Company is licensed to lift goods from other vessels, and we have the support of the government. We are privateers, and we do not suffer pirates gladly. You will be taken to Fort St. George and sentenced there. Do you have anything you wish to say?"
"I'd be glad of some food and drink," Jack said, honestly. "Unless you want me to starve to death before we reach your fort."
"I shall order some bread and water down to you," the Englishman said. He stared at Jack for a moment longer, and turned on his heel.
The bread proved to be stale and the water a vaguely green colour when it arrived, but Jack ate and drank philosophically, knowing he had had worse in the past and would probably have worse in the future. Then he sat down again and considered his fate.
He was under no illusion as to what the Englishman had in mind for him - he knew the fate of captured pirates, and did not intend to suffer it, if at all possible. And so Jack Sparrow spent the rest of the voyage into port planning various escape routes, each more daring than the last.
It took them four days to reach land. Jack listened to the familiar noises of docking - shouts from the harbour, the rattle as the anchor was dropped, the noise of cargo being offloaded - and wished that he was aboard the Black Pearl, preparing to go ashore with the others for a well-earned rest in a familiar Caribbean port. For a few moments he felt very alone.
After some time two large and heavy men in a drab brown uniform came to get him, hauling him out of the brig and pushing him up the ladder to the deck. Jack blinked in the sunshine, but they did not allow him a chance to get used to the brightness before they pushed him towards the gangplank.
He staggered a little as he stood on dry land. It seemed too stable and firm, somehow, after the long weeks at sea. The guards took his arms and they set off into the town they had arrived in, people staring as the prisoner was escorted past them. Here, the faces were dark and the clothes bright and cheerful. Women in colourful cottons carried baskets of food and goods on their heads, men pushed barrows of the same or cajoled animals along the road.
Jack found it all fascinating, and wished he were not being hauled along as a captive. He tried asking his guards if they could go a little slower, but this merely speeded the pace up.
After some time they reached a fort, apparently still being built given the wooden scaffolding along one side. The guards hustled Jack inside and he soon found himself pushed inside a dark cell. The door closed with a bang, and a jangle of keys told him that the door had been locked behind him.
He turned in the dark, prodding the floor with his foot. It seemed firm and dry enough, and he sat down and rested his forehead on his knees. He was a captive of the East India Company, the Black Pearl many miles away; and for the first time since he had left Portsmouth, Jack Sparrow was entirely alone.
Author's note: A brief note regarding dates: this fic's taking place from about 1655 (chapter 1), so it's now about 1660. A turbulent historical period for England, as Cromwell's government crumbled and eventually fell with his death in 1658; Charles II took the throne back in 1660. I would dearly love to know what the East India Company, an institution founded by Elizabeth I, fitted into this - I'm having serious research difficulties and if anyone happens to know more about the workings of the EIC, particularly in the mid-seventeenth century, I would be eternally grateful. So there are very likely some historical inaccuracies here. One thing that is accurate is the port I've set the EIC in - Fort St. George became Madras, now also known as Chennai. The fort was built in 1644. So now you know.
Thanks for the continued reviews!
----
The crew did not take the news that their cabin boy was female well. There was much talk of bad luck, and much muttering and gesturing in Anamaria's direction. To his annoyance, Jack got a fair amount of the blame for their cabin boy's deception.
"Now, come on, that just ain't fair!" he burst out eventually, after Joffo had become the sixth pirate to come and tell him that he should have twigged Anamaria's identity earlier on. "So I spent more time with the lass. But this ship isn't that big, and I'm not the one with daughters. Nor sisters."
"It's true enough that a lad and a lass of yon age look much alike," Thornton conceded.
"Thank you!" Jack said. "There, gentlemen, I rest my case."
His case was helped a little by the fact that Captain Flint had decided not to throw Anamaria off the ship. She had been given extra duties as punishment for her deception, but they needed a cabin boy and she was, at least, capable of the tasks. As a matter of fact, in the days following the change from André to Anamaria, she opened up and became much more lively. Some of the men even found to their surprise that their taciturn cabin boy answered them back, and within a week the grumbles had subsided somewhat.
Their luck continued too, with two more successful attacks on merchants. But the Black Pearl was now riding low in the water and her speed was significantly reduced by the weight of cargo, and eventually Captain Flint decided to order them into land to try and sell some of it off. Accordingly, they turned in towards the Indian coast.
They were one day from port when they saw the other ship. Her sails were new, creamy canvas, and her paintwork shone with gilt. Through the telescope, her name could be read: Silk Princess. "Aye, and she is a princess," Thornton said with envy. "Look at her lines, lad."
Jack agreed that the Princess was a beauty, but he looked up at the Black Pearl's own dark sails, and down at the worn but polished deck, and he found himself unsure that he would want to sail any other vessel. He said so, and Flint, nearby, looked down at him.
"Not to sail, no. There isn't a ship in the world like the Pearl. Not to sail. But to capture ... ah, to capture ..." He looked back at the Silk Princess, and licked his lips. "To capture ...."
"Captain, we're riding too low," Thornton said. "We haven't the speed. Ship like that 'un's going to have fire power beyond ours, too. We cannot take her!"
"Is this not the Black Pearl, feared throughout the Caribbean?" Flint said sharply to his mate. "We're not going to stand by and watch a prize like that slip through our grasp, are we?"
"Allez!" Joffo exclaimed.
"Cap'n ..." Thornton said.
"Oh, ye lily-livered Englishman," O'Connell snorted. "Call yourself a pirate or not? C'mon, Cap'n - we're all wi' ye."
Captain Flint grinned. "Arm the cannon. We'll take her - or what we can of her."
"And give nothing back," a voice said at Jack's elbow. "You think we can do it, Jack?"
Jack turned from the rail to go and fetch his weapons. "I don't know, Anamaria, but those are the captain's orders. Code says we must follow them."
She nodded, and ran off in the opposite direction to start loading the cannon.
By now, the process of firing, closing and attack was second nature to Jack, but he still felt a thrilled rush through his body as the grapples were thrown, the planks laid, and he scampered across to engage the other ship. Shots whistled over his head and he heard a scream, then the splash as the man hit the water. In front of his was a tall, elegant man with an equally elegant rapier, and Jack yelled something incoherent as he rushed in for the attack. All around were cries and shouts as the pirates fought the crew of the Silk Princess. Jack lunged and caught his opponent in the shoulder, and moved past him for the next sailor. His braids whipped round his face as he fought, dancing in and out of the other man's reach, and he was entirely focused on the duel - so focused, in fact, that he barely felt the judder as the cannon roared. Too focused to hear the calls from the Black Pearl to retreat.
But he did hear the high-pitched scream of "Jack!" cutting through the smoke and noise, and he turned and saw, to his everlasting horror, the Pearl already astern of the Silk Princess, her cannon firing one last time as she turned to retreat. By the rail, being restrained by one of the men, was a small dark-haired figure, and her cries drifted over the widening gap.
"Damn," Jack said, and dropped his sword. He measured the water between the ships, and thought that if he moved now he could probably swim it. The rail was low enough to vault, and he bounced backwards on his heels before lunging forward and breaking into a run.
He did not make the rail, instead landing in an undignified heap on the deck with someone's hands clasping his ankle.
"You're under arrest, pirate," a voice said, and Jack closed his eyes.
He was hauled below decks and placed in the ship's brig, a shiny new iron cage with two heavy locks. They confiscated his knife and his sword and manacled his wrists, and left him.
They left him for a long time. Jack sat on the floor of the cage with his head resting against the bars and wondered where the Pearl had gone, and what they were doing now. He wondered whether any of his friends had been killed - it seemed clear they had not been captured, for he was alone.
Eventually there were footsteps on the ladder, and Jack scrambled to his feet. The man that came into view was undoubtedly English, from the neat auburn hair on his head to the silver buckles on his shoes, and he came to stand in front of the brig with his arms folded behind his back.
"Well."
Jack held out his manacled wrists. "Locked up, and handcuffed?" he said. "You must be scared of us."
The Englishman shook his head. "Scared of you, no. We're scared of losing our livelihood, but somehow I find myself undaunted by one small ship of pirates from the Caribbean." He looked Jack up and down. "Particularly pirates who can barely be counted as men. How old are you?"
Jack shrugged. "Lost count, mate," he lied smoothly.
"Huh." The other man seemed unconvinced. "Do you have a name?"
"For friends, aye," Jack said.
"'Tis unimportant - we know the name of your ship, and that is all that matters. But we had reports of you, young man. It seems all your shipmates were of usual pirate stock in garments and manner, but you stand out." He regarded Jack. "Yes, you stand out. You seem unafraid, too, despite the fact your ship limped off defeated with all your friends on board. Not that I expected pirates to behave any better than that."
"Pirates' code," said Jack. "He that falls behind, gets left behind. I fell."
"I see."
"I'm glad you do. Might I have the pleasure of knowing who's detaining me?"
The other man smiled. "You picked the wrong ship to attack today. The East India Company is licensed to lift goods from other vessels, and we have the support of the government. We are privateers, and we do not suffer pirates gladly. You will be taken to Fort St. George and sentenced there. Do you have anything you wish to say?"
"I'd be glad of some food and drink," Jack said, honestly. "Unless you want me to starve to death before we reach your fort."
"I shall order some bread and water down to you," the Englishman said. He stared at Jack for a moment longer, and turned on his heel.
The bread proved to be stale and the water a vaguely green colour when it arrived, but Jack ate and drank philosophically, knowing he had had worse in the past and would probably have worse in the future. Then he sat down again and considered his fate.
He was under no illusion as to what the Englishman had in mind for him - he knew the fate of captured pirates, and did not intend to suffer it, if at all possible. And so Jack Sparrow spent the rest of the voyage into port planning various escape routes, each more daring than the last.
It took them four days to reach land. Jack listened to the familiar noises of docking - shouts from the harbour, the rattle as the anchor was dropped, the noise of cargo being offloaded - and wished that he was aboard the Black Pearl, preparing to go ashore with the others for a well-earned rest in a familiar Caribbean port. For a few moments he felt very alone.
After some time two large and heavy men in a drab brown uniform came to get him, hauling him out of the brig and pushing him up the ladder to the deck. Jack blinked in the sunshine, but they did not allow him a chance to get used to the brightness before they pushed him towards the gangplank.
He staggered a little as he stood on dry land. It seemed too stable and firm, somehow, after the long weeks at sea. The guards took his arms and they set off into the town they had arrived in, people staring as the prisoner was escorted past them. Here, the faces were dark and the clothes bright and cheerful. Women in colourful cottons carried baskets of food and goods on their heads, men pushed barrows of the same or cajoled animals along the road.
Jack found it all fascinating, and wished he were not being hauled along as a captive. He tried asking his guards if they could go a little slower, but this merely speeded the pace up.
After some time they reached a fort, apparently still being built given the wooden scaffolding along one side. The guards hustled Jack inside and he soon found himself pushed inside a dark cell. The door closed with a bang, and a jangle of keys told him that the door had been locked behind him.
He turned in the dark, prodding the floor with his foot. It seemed firm and dry enough, and he sat down and rested his forehead on his knees. He was a captive of the East India Company, the Black Pearl many miles away; and for the first time since he had left Portsmouth, Jack Sparrow was entirely alone.