Disclaimer: see chapter 1
----
"Ah, Jack - sit down, will you?"
Jack closed the door behind him and came into Flint's cabin, looking around him with interest. He had never had a chance to come right in before now, not being on galley duty. The cabin was the breadth of the ship, set in the stern with small windows that could be opened, and was furnished with a table and chairs in addition to the captain's bunk at one side, hidden by a curtain.
Captain Flint was seated at the table, a pile of papers and a box full of coins in front of him, but he put down his quill as Jack chose a chair and settled down.
"Cup of wine, Jack?"
"Thank you," Jack accepted.
The captain poured some red wine into two silver goblets and passed Jack one of them. "From that merchant we caught on the way east," he explained, noticing Jack's curious look at the fine metalwork.
"Not bad," Jack said. "Cheers, cap'n."
"Cheers." Flint drank, and then put his goblet down and looked seriously at Jack. "Know why I wanted to speak to you?"
Jack steepled his fingers in front of his face, resting his elbows on the arms of his chair. "I guessed it'd be the East India Company. I should've said something about that drunkard, cap'n, and I'm sorry I never did."
"You're not sorry," Flint said. "I know you too well by now, Jack Sparrow, and you'll ne'er be sorry for something like that, as wasn't your fault. You did well to escape from them the first time, and I was pleased to have you back aboard. You're a useful sailor and a useful swordsman. And you've a sharper mind than some give you credit for. There be them as can't look past a man's appearance and see the person inside."
"That's so," Jack agreed.
"So you're right, it was them pesky idiots who reckon they rule these seas that I wished to talk to you about," Flint went on. "What should we do with them, if they find us? When your frigate was after us, you said run."
Jack said nothing, and considered the options.
One of the things he had learnt during his time in the custody of the East India Company was that not all their ships were well armed. Many of them, indeed, were simple merchants under charter to the Company, carrying one or two small cannon and the odd rifle. The armed ships zigzagged across the Company's trading area, looking for pirates and for other ships to take goods from. They were the tricky vessels, the one that the Black Pearl needed to watch out for.
But Jack remembered also that when Flint had ordered the retreat, the day he got captured several years before, the Pearl had been heavily laden and low in the water.
"If," he said, thoughtfully, "we came upon them when we've just unloaded cargo, we'd have the extra movement to outwit them. And if we fired first. Last time, they got off the first shots. There's only the officers who can use a blade - the rest fumble their footwork." He grinned. "Anyway, if we come across that Tapley I'd like to settle matters."
"And the frigate?"
"If she's still around these parts," Jack said, "then we need to be cautious, cap'n, but not cowards."
"Cautious but not cowards," Flint nodded. "So be it. Go and pass the message on to Thornton and O'Connell, would you? Ask 'em to order the cannon cleaned."
Jack jumped up, and nodded. "Aye, aye, sir!"
Flint smiled. "One day, Jack Sparrow, you'll make a bloody good captain. Never thought I'd find someone who loved the old Pearl more'n me, but I reckon you do."
Jack gave the captain one of his little bows, and left the cabin.
The cannon were duly cleaned, and lookouts set permanently. In quiet moments, the crew practised their swordfighting. Jack began to teach Anamaria some basic skills, and she picked them up reasonably quickly. She had the advantage of being light on her feet, and agile, but she lacked power. He tried to ease back on his own attacks to help her, and she improved rapidly.
"Only for emergencies," Jack warned her, nonetheless. She nodded, and parried an unseen opponent.
For a week they saw no sign of the Company. They caught a couple of local merchants, taking spices from one island to another, and relieved them of some of their goods and supplies, but there was a distinct lack of any European vessels.
Jack was on lookout duty when the sails appeared on the horizon. "Ship ahoy!" he called down, and shaded his eyes to see better. "East Indiaman!" he added, as the Company standard streamed out behind the other vessel. And then his eyes creased, and he swore softly to himself. "Why, the little ..."
"What is it, Jack?" Flint asked, as Jack landed on the deck and came hurrying across to him.
"It's the Susanna, that's what it is," Jack said. "Carrying an East India Company flag. In Dutch Company waters, too."
Flint had his telescope out in a trice and was on the rail, grasping a shroud with one hand to steady himself as he looked through the instrument. "I believe you're right, Jack."
"Knew there was summat fishy with that Scotsman," Thornton said, from the helm. "Right dodgy, he was."
"Evidently," said Flint, snapping the telescope shut. "All right, men. This is what we do. Give 'em no quarter - we fire first, we board first. We're the bigger ship and the faster, and the better armed. Cripple her. Shot from each cannon broadsides as she approaches. Heave to alongside, grapple and board. Go for the officers - Jack says the sailors won't put up much of a fight. That wretch McDonagall's mine, and if you find a Tapley, he's young Jack's. Clear?"
"Aye, cap'n," the crew chorused.
"Right. To your places, gentlemen."
The cannon were loaded, and the pirates armed. The Susanna closed as Thornton held the Pearl out of the wind, her sails hanging limp. With a grappling iron in one hand, and his sword hanging by his side, Jack waited, tense with anticipation.
There was a hail from the approaching vessel. "Ahoy there, Black Pearl! Surrender your arms and the fugitive Sparrow, and we'll let you go free."
Flint smiled, and nodded at O'Connell, who nodded back.
"Fire!" he called, and the cannon fired with a series of booms. The Susanna shook, and swung off her course. When the smoke cleared, there was a gaping hole in her port hull.
"Board her!" Flint shouted.
Jack swung his grappling iron and let go, watching the hooks sail over the water separating the two ships and catch on the wooden rail. He seized a shroud, leaping up on the rail of the Pearl and pushing off, swinging through the air with the blue water below him.
He landed in a neat somersault and drew his sword. The other pirates were already attacking a group of officers, but Jack could not see his quarry amongst them, and so he turned his attention to a panic-stricken sailor close by. The sailor fought bravely, but clumsily, and it took only moments for Jack to disarm him with a flick of his wrist. He caught the other man's sword and waved it in his face.
"Thanks. Now, I'm looking for a man named Tapley. You know him?"
The sailor gulped, visibly, and shook his head. Jack crossed the swords in the air, making a very satisfactory swishing noise, and smiled. "No, that's the wrong answer, savvy? He's on this ship, isn't he? Be a good lad, show me where he is, and I might not kill you." He did his best evil leer, and the sailor quaked.
"He's below."
"Better. Take me there?"
The sailor nodded, and led Jack away from the fighting that was still going on elsewhere, down to the lower decks of the brig. He gestured at a cabin door.
"That one."
"Thank you!" Jack said, and patted him on the shoulder. "Good man." He turned his attention to the door, which seemed to be locked, and considered it a moment.
The sailor scurried off. Jack sheathed his own sword and took the stolen blade in his right hand; stepped back and then landed as heavy a kick as he could manage on the door. It swung open, to reveal Mr Tapley pointing a pistol at Jack's head.
"So," he said, perfectly calm.
Jack waved the sword in front of Tapley's face. "Nice to meet you again. You going to waste a shot on me?"
Tapley's aim held steady. "No, Sparrow, I am not. You are going to be reasonable, lay down that weapon, and surrender to me."
Jack stepped to one side of the man and then the other. "Your ship's under attack, mate. Got a bleedin' great hole in her side. She's scuppered. If you reckoned the Pearl would run away a second time, or surrender one of her own, you reckoned wrong."
"You broke your word, Sparrow - if indeed McDonagall reported aright and that is your name."
"Why do you people not believe me?" Jack said, shaking his head. "I give you a fake name and you take it, happy as a pirate in a gold chest, but when I tell you my real name, you think I'm lying?"
"As I said, you broke your word," Tapley said. "You escaped."
"I'm a pirate, you great idiot!" Jack returned. "I was stretching the truth when I said I was honest." He darted the tip of his sword closer to Tapley's face, and the man blinked. "So shoot me, Mr Tapley, and rid the world of my black-hearted self."
Tapley's finger tightened on the trigger, and Jack brought his sword down on his arm even as the Englishman fired. The shot hammered into the floorboards, inches from Jack's feet, but now he had the upper hand. Jack twisted the sword in his hand and used the hilt to hit Tapley, hard, in the stomach. He went down, groaning, and Jack finished off his work with a good solid blow to the back of Tapley's neck. He was out cold.
Twenty minutes later the Black Pearl was sailing away from the scene. Three longboats from the Susanna were bobbing in the water, as she listed badly to starboard. Already waves were lapping at the rail. Her sailors were safe in the smaller boats, together with dishevelled and disarmed officers; the brig's cargo and supplies were stowed aboard the Black Pearl.
Below decks, McDonagall and Tapley had been locked into the Pearl's two brigs. At some point, McDonagall had lost his hat, and was seated in the corner of his cage, sulking. Tapley was leaning against the wooden side of his, looking down at his feet in distaste.
"Terribly sorry," said Jack, as he came down the steps into the hold, "there appears to be leak. Old ship like this one, springs them sometimes."
"I demand you let us go!" Tapley said.
Jack shook his head. "Can't do, Mr Tapley, sorry. Cap'n's orders. Though he did say something about me being able to deal with you as I wanted."
Tapley made a noise that sounded remarkably like a hiss. "And that's supposed to frighten me, boy? Why, you couldn't even kill me. Resorted to trickery to capture me. Pathetic."
Approaching the brig, Jack leaned in. "You think I wouldn't kill you?"
"I think you couldn't kill me," Tapley retorted. "You don't have it in you."
"I have it in me," Jack said, unsmiling. "Don't push me, Mr Tapley."
Tapley laughed. "Impertinent boy. Idiotic boy. As if you could end my life ..."
He was forced to take a quick step back, as Jack's sword flashed through the bars of the brig.
"I don't want to," he said, quietly. "I don't like killing a man, but that doesn't mean I won't if I need to. But we won't hang you, Mr Tapley, or brand you as a pompous, useless landlubber - we be pirates, and you'll receive pirate justice." He sheathed his sword. "I hope you can swim."
The clouds were looming overhead the next morning, when the Black Pearl anchored within sight of an uninhabited island, and the pirates gathered. The captives were brought on deck, their hands manacled in front of them. Both men looked rather bedraggled and tired, and nervous as they stood in front of Captain Flint.
"You came to attack my ship and take one of my men captive," Flint began, looking hard at the two of them. "You, McDonagall, masqueraded as a pirate and came aboard this vessel in good faith. You, Tapley, would have sentenced a young man to death. I find you guilty of these crimes and condemn you to walk the plank off this ship." He glanced round at his crew. "Do you witness this, gentlemen?"
"Aye, sir," they said, a rumbling condemnation.
"Does anyone wish to add anything?" Flint asked.
"Not add anything, cap'n, but subtract something," Jack said, stepping forward. He came up to Tapley and deftly slid the Englishman's three heavy silver rings from his fingers. "I'll take these, Mr Tapley, in payment of your debt for my imprisonment. Taught me a lot, but I'd not repeat it. Have a good swim." He put the rings on his own fingers, examined them for a second with pleasure, and putting his hands together inclined his head in a salute to the East Indiaman.
Tapley snarled: "You'll rot in hell one of these days, Sparrow!"
"Probably," Jack agreed, mildly. "But not yet. I'll see you there, shall I?"
"Finished?" Flint said. Jack nodded, and stepped back to join the crew, where Anamaria gave his arm a reassuring pat.
McDonagall was pushed on to the plank, and O'Connell took off his shackles. The Scotsman was visibly shaking as he stood there.
"Oh, get on wi' ye!" O'Connell said. "Water's nice and warm." McDonagall turned, and moved to the end of the plank, jutting out over the water, but did not jump. The mate gave a sigh and stepped on the other end, and with a shriek McDonagall fell with a splash. He did not come up.
Tapley followed the Scotsman on to the plank and held out his hands for the manacles to be undone. O'Connell unlocked them, and Tapley turned and deliberately walked off the end of the plank, his eyes shut tightly. After a moment, his head surfaced, arms flailing.
Flint turned away from the rail.
"Bring the plank on board," he said, his voice flat. "Prepare to make way."
Jack moved to climb up the mainmast, but he cast a last look out over the water, where some splashing showed that Tapley was still fighting. He sighed, and took hold of the shrouds.
----
"Ah, Jack - sit down, will you?"
Jack closed the door behind him and came into Flint's cabin, looking around him with interest. He had never had a chance to come right in before now, not being on galley duty. The cabin was the breadth of the ship, set in the stern with small windows that could be opened, and was furnished with a table and chairs in addition to the captain's bunk at one side, hidden by a curtain.
Captain Flint was seated at the table, a pile of papers and a box full of coins in front of him, but he put down his quill as Jack chose a chair and settled down.
"Cup of wine, Jack?"
"Thank you," Jack accepted.
The captain poured some red wine into two silver goblets and passed Jack one of them. "From that merchant we caught on the way east," he explained, noticing Jack's curious look at the fine metalwork.
"Not bad," Jack said. "Cheers, cap'n."
"Cheers." Flint drank, and then put his goblet down and looked seriously at Jack. "Know why I wanted to speak to you?"
Jack steepled his fingers in front of his face, resting his elbows on the arms of his chair. "I guessed it'd be the East India Company. I should've said something about that drunkard, cap'n, and I'm sorry I never did."
"You're not sorry," Flint said. "I know you too well by now, Jack Sparrow, and you'll ne'er be sorry for something like that, as wasn't your fault. You did well to escape from them the first time, and I was pleased to have you back aboard. You're a useful sailor and a useful swordsman. And you've a sharper mind than some give you credit for. There be them as can't look past a man's appearance and see the person inside."
"That's so," Jack agreed.
"So you're right, it was them pesky idiots who reckon they rule these seas that I wished to talk to you about," Flint went on. "What should we do with them, if they find us? When your frigate was after us, you said run."
Jack said nothing, and considered the options.
One of the things he had learnt during his time in the custody of the East India Company was that not all their ships were well armed. Many of them, indeed, were simple merchants under charter to the Company, carrying one or two small cannon and the odd rifle. The armed ships zigzagged across the Company's trading area, looking for pirates and for other ships to take goods from. They were the tricky vessels, the one that the Black Pearl needed to watch out for.
But Jack remembered also that when Flint had ordered the retreat, the day he got captured several years before, the Pearl had been heavily laden and low in the water.
"If," he said, thoughtfully, "we came upon them when we've just unloaded cargo, we'd have the extra movement to outwit them. And if we fired first. Last time, they got off the first shots. There's only the officers who can use a blade - the rest fumble their footwork." He grinned. "Anyway, if we come across that Tapley I'd like to settle matters."
"And the frigate?"
"If she's still around these parts," Jack said, "then we need to be cautious, cap'n, but not cowards."
"Cautious but not cowards," Flint nodded. "So be it. Go and pass the message on to Thornton and O'Connell, would you? Ask 'em to order the cannon cleaned."
Jack jumped up, and nodded. "Aye, aye, sir!"
Flint smiled. "One day, Jack Sparrow, you'll make a bloody good captain. Never thought I'd find someone who loved the old Pearl more'n me, but I reckon you do."
Jack gave the captain one of his little bows, and left the cabin.
The cannon were duly cleaned, and lookouts set permanently. In quiet moments, the crew practised their swordfighting. Jack began to teach Anamaria some basic skills, and she picked them up reasonably quickly. She had the advantage of being light on her feet, and agile, but she lacked power. He tried to ease back on his own attacks to help her, and she improved rapidly.
"Only for emergencies," Jack warned her, nonetheless. She nodded, and parried an unseen opponent.
For a week they saw no sign of the Company. They caught a couple of local merchants, taking spices from one island to another, and relieved them of some of their goods and supplies, but there was a distinct lack of any European vessels.
Jack was on lookout duty when the sails appeared on the horizon. "Ship ahoy!" he called down, and shaded his eyes to see better. "East Indiaman!" he added, as the Company standard streamed out behind the other vessel. And then his eyes creased, and he swore softly to himself. "Why, the little ..."
"What is it, Jack?" Flint asked, as Jack landed on the deck and came hurrying across to him.
"It's the Susanna, that's what it is," Jack said. "Carrying an East India Company flag. In Dutch Company waters, too."
Flint had his telescope out in a trice and was on the rail, grasping a shroud with one hand to steady himself as he looked through the instrument. "I believe you're right, Jack."
"Knew there was summat fishy with that Scotsman," Thornton said, from the helm. "Right dodgy, he was."
"Evidently," said Flint, snapping the telescope shut. "All right, men. This is what we do. Give 'em no quarter - we fire first, we board first. We're the bigger ship and the faster, and the better armed. Cripple her. Shot from each cannon broadsides as she approaches. Heave to alongside, grapple and board. Go for the officers - Jack says the sailors won't put up much of a fight. That wretch McDonagall's mine, and if you find a Tapley, he's young Jack's. Clear?"
"Aye, cap'n," the crew chorused.
"Right. To your places, gentlemen."
The cannon were loaded, and the pirates armed. The Susanna closed as Thornton held the Pearl out of the wind, her sails hanging limp. With a grappling iron in one hand, and his sword hanging by his side, Jack waited, tense with anticipation.
There was a hail from the approaching vessel. "Ahoy there, Black Pearl! Surrender your arms and the fugitive Sparrow, and we'll let you go free."
Flint smiled, and nodded at O'Connell, who nodded back.
"Fire!" he called, and the cannon fired with a series of booms. The Susanna shook, and swung off her course. When the smoke cleared, there was a gaping hole in her port hull.
"Board her!" Flint shouted.
Jack swung his grappling iron and let go, watching the hooks sail over the water separating the two ships and catch on the wooden rail. He seized a shroud, leaping up on the rail of the Pearl and pushing off, swinging through the air with the blue water below him.
He landed in a neat somersault and drew his sword. The other pirates were already attacking a group of officers, but Jack could not see his quarry amongst them, and so he turned his attention to a panic-stricken sailor close by. The sailor fought bravely, but clumsily, and it took only moments for Jack to disarm him with a flick of his wrist. He caught the other man's sword and waved it in his face.
"Thanks. Now, I'm looking for a man named Tapley. You know him?"
The sailor gulped, visibly, and shook his head. Jack crossed the swords in the air, making a very satisfactory swishing noise, and smiled. "No, that's the wrong answer, savvy? He's on this ship, isn't he? Be a good lad, show me where he is, and I might not kill you." He did his best evil leer, and the sailor quaked.
"He's below."
"Better. Take me there?"
The sailor nodded, and led Jack away from the fighting that was still going on elsewhere, down to the lower decks of the brig. He gestured at a cabin door.
"That one."
"Thank you!" Jack said, and patted him on the shoulder. "Good man." He turned his attention to the door, which seemed to be locked, and considered it a moment.
The sailor scurried off. Jack sheathed his own sword and took the stolen blade in his right hand; stepped back and then landed as heavy a kick as he could manage on the door. It swung open, to reveal Mr Tapley pointing a pistol at Jack's head.
"So," he said, perfectly calm.
Jack waved the sword in front of Tapley's face. "Nice to meet you again. You going to waste a shot on me?"
Tapley's aim held steady. "No, Sparrow, I am not. You are going to be reasonable, lay down that weapon, and surrender to me."
Jack stepped to one side of the man and then the other. "Your ship's under attack, mate. Got a bleedin' great hole in her side. She's scuppered. If you reckoned the Pearl would run away a second time, or surrender one of her own, you reckoned wrong."
"You broke your word, Sparrow - if indeed McDonagall reported aright and that is your name."
"Why do you people not believe me?" Jack said, shaking his head. "I give you a fake name and you take it, happy as a pirate in a gold chest, but when I tell you my real name, you think I'm lying?"
"As I said, you broke your word," Tapley said. "You escaped."
"I'm a pirate, you great idiot!" Jack returned. "I was stretching the truth when I said I was honest." He darted the tip of his sword closer to Tapley's face, and the man blinked. "So shoot me, Mr Tapley, and rid the world of my black-hearted self."
Tapley's finger tightened on the trigger, and Jack brought his sword down on his arm even as the Englishman fired. The shot hammered into the floorboards, inches from Jack's feet, but now he had the upper hand. Jack twisted the sword in his hand and used the hilt to hit Tapley, hard, in the stomach. He went down, groaning, and Jack finished off his work with a good solid blow to the back of Tapley's neck. He was out cold.
Twenty minutes later the Black Pearl was sailing away from the scene. Three longboats from the Susanna were bobbing in the water, as she listed badly to starboard. Already waves were lapping at the rail. Her sailors were safe in the smaller boats, together with dishevelled and disarmed officers; the brig's cargo and supplies were stowed aboard the Black Pearl.
Below decks, McDonagall and Tapley had been locked into the Pearl's two brigs. At some point, McDonagall had lost his hat, and was seated in the corner of his cage, sulking. Tapley was leaning against the wooden side of his, looking down at his feet in distaste.
"Terribly sorry," said Jack, as he came down the steps into the hold, "there appears to be leak. Old ship like this one, springs them sometimes."
"I demand you let us go!" Tapley said.
Jack shook his head. "Can't do, Mr Tapley, sorry. Cap'n's orders. Though he did say something about me being able to deal with you as I wanted."
Tapley made a noise that sounded remarkably like a hiss. "And that's supposed to frighten me, boy? Why, you couldn't even kill me. Resorted to trickery to capture me. Pathetic."
Approaching the brig, Jack leaned in. "You think I wouldn't kill you?"
"I think you couldn't kill me," Tapley retorted. "You don't have it in you."
"I have it in me," Jack said, unsmiling. "Don't push me, Mr Tapley."
Tapley laughed. "Impertinent boy. Idiotic boy. As if you could end my life ..."
He was forced to take a quick step back, as Jack's sword flashed through the bars of the brig.
"I don't want to," he said, quietly. "I don't like killing a man, but that doesn't mean I won't if I need to. But we won't hang you, Mr Tapley, or brand you as a pompous, useless landlubber - we be pirates, and you'll receive pirate justice." He sheathed his sword. "I hope you can swim."
The clouds were looming overhead the next morning, when the Black Pearl anchored within sight of an uninhabited island, and the pirates gathered. The captives were brought on deck, their hands manacled in front of them. Both men looked rather bedraggled and tired, and nervous as they stood in front of Captain Flint.
"You came to attack my ship and take one of my men captive," Flint began, looking hard at the two of them. "You, McDonagall, masqueraded as a pirate and came aboard this vessel in good faith. You, Tapley, would have sentenced a young man to death. I find you guilty of these crimes and condemn you to walk the plank off this ship." He glanced round at his crew. "Do you witness this, gentlemen?"
"Aye, sir," they said, a rumbling condemnation.
"Does anyone wish to add anything?" Flint asked.
"Not add anything, cap'n, but subtract something," Jack said, stepping forward. He came up to Tapley and deftly slid the Englishman's three heavy silver rings from his fingers. "I'll take these, Mr Tapley, in payment of your debt for my imprisonment. Taught me a lot, but I'd not repeat it. Have a good swim." He put the rings on his own fingers, examined them for a second with pleasure, and putting his hands together inclined his head in a salute to the East Indiaman.
Tapley snarled: "You'll rot in hell one of these days, Sparrow!"
"Probably," Jack agreed, mildly. "But not yet. I'll see you there, shall I?"
"Finished?" Flint said. Jack nodded, and stepped back to join the crew, where Anamaria gave his arm a reassuring pat.
McDonagall was pushed on to the plank, and O'Connell took off his shackles. The Scotsman was visibly shaking as he stood there.
"Oh, get on wi' ye!" O'Connell said. "Water's nice and warm." McDonagall turned, and moved to the end of the plank, jutting out over the water, but did not jump. The mate gave a sigh and stepped on the other end, and with a shriek McDonagall fell with a splash. He did not come up.
Tapley followed the Scotsman on to the plank and held out his hands for the manacles to be undone. O'Connell unlocked them, and Tapley turned and deliberately walked off the end of the plank, his eyes shut tightly. After a moment, his head surfaced, arms flailing.
Flint turned away from the rail.
"Bring the plank on board," he said, his voice flat. "Prepare to make way."
Jack moved to climb up the mainmast, but he cast a last look out over the water, where some splashing showed that Tapley was still fighting. He sighed, and took hold of the shrouds.