Usual disclaimers. I hate disclaimers!
Saw Return of the King on its opening night last night... I must be one of the few people that went to see it still dreaming of Captain Jack, this plot and the foreward plot whirling in my head!
Yeah, I know that means no hope!
Welcome to the new reviewers - and hugs for those who keep reviewing!
***
Catherine rose at dawn, repacking her belongings now that she had her three remaining dresses. Jack eyed them appreciatively, fingering the rich fabric. "Yer weren't jokin' when yer said Lact was feelin' guilty!" He ran his hand over the green silk dress. "Will yer wear this for me..."
"If you like - but not today! I'm not ruining it by trying to ride in it!"
"I know, that's not what I meant! When we get back to th' Pearl like..." His voice trailed off as he saw Oran and Little Feather leading their mounts towards them. "Guess we are really leaving this time luv!" he smiled as he offered Catherine his cupped hand to help her mount before scrambling onto his own horse. The others mounted too and they quietly rode out of the village. Goodbyes had been said the night before and the rest of the tribe were busy readying themselves for the revenge strike they knew would be coming from the French Fort,
Oran and Little Feather mounted their horses, bringing them close to Jack. "It will take us nearly two months to reach the English territory and then another month to the east sea... if we are lucky. We will be travelling the longer way to avoid passing through Cherokee territory."
Catherine quickly added up the months. "Home for Christmas?" She sighed, realising that more than seven months had passed since she left Port Royal.
"Home for Christmas!" Jack smiled. "A proper bed, a large bottle of rum an' a scantily clad woman!" Catherine raised one eyebrow. "I meant you, luv... who else, eh?" He coughed, clearing his throat, Oran and Little Feather laughing at his discomfort as they rode eastwards.
***
Cécile sighed heavily as the French Fort Commander was pacing up and down his office, waving his arms angrily. Why could men just not do what needed to be done without all the dramatics.
"So this woman Catherine was not who she said, but a pirate woman working with the savages, and Monsieur Lact and the men are being held by the savages?" She nodded, relieved when he stopped pacing. "Thank you Madame for bringing this news to the Fort. I will handle matters from now!"
She bobbed a curtsey and left.
"Hullier - get in here!" he shouted. "Send for the native scouts immediately! They will pay for what they have done!"
***
Little Feather left the camp quietly that night. He was feeling twitchy, a feeling he tried never to ignore for it had saved his life on more than one occasion. Cautiously, deerskin boots silent, he padded back along their trail for several miles. He'd been right! Peering over a ridge he saw a small, carefully screened campfire - Kickapoo! The French had reacted faster than he had feared and had sent their scouts after Crazy Bird as well as probably against the tribe. Cautiously he back-tracked ensuring that he was not seen. They would have to quicken their pace without it being obvious for they were outnumbered by the Kickapoo three to one!
When he reached their camp Jack and Oran were standing guard whilst Catherine slept. "We have a problem," he announced, keeping his voice low so not to wake her.
"Eh?"
"There are twelve Kickapoo on the trail behind us. We must travel hard and fast - and try to lose them as quickly as possible. I can get some help from a nearby village, but then they will know we are aware of them..." He glanced down at Catherine. "Don't let them take her," he warned as he looked at Jack. "If you love her, save one shot..."
Jack nodded silently, praying that it would not come to that. Could he shoot her... he honestly did not know. She always said that whilst there was life there was hope... could he take away that hope with a shot? "Let's not tell her..."
"Not tell me what?" she murmured, sleepily sitting up and rubbing her eyes. "Can't you three talk quietly!"
Jack looked at the others, his eyes holding theirs in the dark, ensuring their silence. "There are some Kickapoo followin' us," he warned. "We will have t' go faster luv!"
Without further questions she rolled out of her furs. "Do we start now then?"
Jack looked questioningly at Little Feather. "Do you need t' sleep?"
"I will be fine," he assured them. "They are too close for my liking - we must push on!"
Quickly they broke camp, covering the fire as best they could and riding out whilst it was still dark. Heading north-east they used every trick that Little Feather knew for although the ground was not rocky it had not rained for a number of weeks. The horses did not like having brush tied to their tails, but it covered their tracks nicely. Whenever they came to a river Little Feather would have them cross it a number of times, sometimes remaining on the same bank, sometimes not, sometimes riding in the actual river itself... anything, everything that they could think of. Every moment that the Kickapoo wasted trying to find their trail meant they fell a little further behind.
It was dark when they eventually made camp, but no fire was lit. Little Feather spoke quietly with Jack. "We are near another Chickasaw village. I will go there tonight and arrange for a welcome for the Kickapoo." He turned, disappearing into the darkness. "No lights, no noise Crazy Bird!" he warned.
Jack nodded, then smiled wryly as he realised Little Feather could not see him. He gently woke Catherine to share first watch with him, fingers on his lips. She understood and rose without a sound, sitting companionably in the silence of the night, scanning the darkness.
Little Feather returned two hours later, nodding in answer to his unspoken question before heading to his furs. "We leave before dawn," he whispered.
***
Over the next weeks the pattern was repeated - late to sleep, early to rise - sometimes they even napped in the saddle and rode through the night. Often Little Feather would sneak back at night along their trail, but no signs of the Kickapoo were seen. He did not relax though, not trusting that the local Chickasaw had been able to kill all of their pursuers. All the times the mountains grew closer, the heavily forested hills steeper. Jack watched Catherine worriedly. She was tiring, he could see that she often gasped for breath the higher they got. "Kitty?" he frowned, reaching across to touch her as they walked the horses up a particularly steep slope.
"I'm alright Jack," she smiled, but he could see that she was not.
He slowed until he walked next to Little Feather. "How long do we climb?" he asked. "Kitty is finding it hard..." He glanced at her, noting that her legs wobbled as she climbed.
Little Feather looked at her, nodding. "Let her ride or carry her - we cannot stop!" He looked back over his shoulder worriedly. "They are still out there!"
Jack nodded and scrambled closer to Catherine. "Kitty, ride a while..."
"I'm okay..."
"Kitty, don't argue!" He helped her up onto the horse, taking a hold of its bridle as he passed his horse to Little Feather. "Just ride a while Kitty, 'til yer get yer breath back... alright?"
He was relieved when she did not argue, but was equally concerned by her lack of protests - a sign to him of how poorly she truly was. They zigzagged up a steep hill to make it easier on the horses, but Catherine's horse stumbled, throwing her from its back.
"Kitty!" Jack raced after her as she tumbled a short way down the slope, coming to rest with a thud against a tree. "Kitty!" He was relieved to see her unhurt and conscious, but her face was contorted with pain. Jack looked up worriedly at Little Feather. "How many are there?"
"The Kickapoo... at least two, possibly more."
"Well then we ambush them an' end this!" Jack hissed angrily as Catherine's legs gave way again as he tried to help her rise. "We run no further Little Feather, however many there are!" Gently he helped her up again. "No arguments luv! The truth!"
Wobbling, she sat on the ground. "My head hurts, my chest hurts... here..." She indicated where she had been shot. "I can't breathe properly..." Jack picked her up and started walking. "No, put me down!" she protested, but she did not struggle much and soon fell asleep in his arms, utterly spent.
Jack looked at Little Feather. "She's exhausted mate... she can't go any further. Find us a camp an' we stop!"
Little Feather pointed ahead as they crested the rise. "It is downhill from here! She should find it easier now, the worst is behind us!"
"Find an ambush site Little Feather!" Jack glowered. "Kitty cannot go any further, riding or not!"
Little Feather sighed looking around. "We'll stop in that coppice over there - catch them as the come over the ridge. Oran - take the horses lower down the slope... we don't want them giving us away!"
***
Little Feather napped for a while, before rising and carefully watching the trail. He knew they would be coming soon and was hoping that it would just be the one. Catherine was still sleeping - Jack had been right, she really was exhausted from the fast pace that had been set and the injury to her chest had not made breathing in the thin mountain air easy for her.
Jack gently shook her awake. "Kitty," he whispered, "Kitty... we are laying an ambush for the Kickapoo still following. Don't worry if you hear m' pistol... alright?"
"Do you..." She struggled to rise.
"No! You stay an' rest luv..." He handed her pistol to her. "But keep this close, just in case..."
"Jack!" Little Feather waved urgently as he caught a flash of movement along the trail. Yes, he'd been right - two Kickapoo warriors cautiously walked along the trail, leading their horses as they stooped to check for tracks. Jack and Oran quietly cocked their pistols. "Wait..." Little Feather warned as a third warrior came into the view. "Jack - the one at the back... Oran the one on the left..."
"Port mate," Jack whispered to Oran.
The Kickapoo were nearly upon them when all three pistols fired, downing them instantly. They broke cover, rushing forwards swords drawn to ensure that those still breathing did not remain alive for long. Little Feather glanced cautiously around but there was no sign of any more warriors. Jack ran back to Catherine to reassure her all was well.
"We'll camp down near the horses," Little Feather sighed. "There is water there and shelter. We can stay until Little Fox is feeling better..." He walked after the horses that had fled in panic - if nothing else at least they could sell them.
***
Saw Return of the King on its opening night last night... I must be one of the few people that went to see it still dreaming of Captain Jack, this plot and the foreward plot whirling in my head!
Yeah, I know that means no hope!
Welcome to the new reviewers - and hugs for those who keep reviewing!
***
Catherine rose at dawn, repacking her belongings now that she had her three remaining dresses. Jack eyed them appreciatively, fingering the rich fabric. "Yer weren't jokin' when yer said Lact was feelin' guilty!" He ran his hand over the green silk dress. "Will yer wear this for me..."
"If you like - but not today! I'm not ruining it by trying to ride in it!"
"I know, that's not what I meant! When we get back to th' Pearl like..." His voice trailed off as he saw Oran and Little Feather leading their mounts towards them. "Guess we are really leaving this time luv!" he smiled as he offered Catherine his cupped hand to help her mount before scrambling onto his own horse. The others mounted too and they quietly rode out of the village. Goodbyes had been said the night before and the rest of the tribe were busy readying themselves for the revenge strike they knew would be coming from the French Fort,
Oran and Little Feather mounted their horses, bringing them close to Jack. "It will take us nearly two months to reach the English territory and then another month to the east sea... if we are lucky. We will be travelling the longer way to avoid passing through Cherokee territory."
Catherine quickly added up the months. "Home for Christmas?" She sighed, realising that more than seven months had passed since she left Port Royal.
"Home for Christmas!" Jack smiled. "A proper bed, a large bottle of rum an' a scantily clad woman!" Catherine raised one eyebrow. "I meant you, luv... who else, eh?" He coughed, clearing his throat, Oran and Little Feather laughing at his discomfort as they rode eastwards.
***
Cécile sighed heavily as the French Fort Commander was pacing up and down his office, waving his arms angrily. Why could men just not do what needed to be done without all the dramatics.
"So this woman Catherine was not who she said, but a pirate woman working with the savages, and Monsieur Lact and the men are being held by the savages?" She nodded, relieved when he stopped pacing. "Thank you Madame for bringing this news to the Fort. I will handle matters from now!"
She bobbed a curtsey and left.
"Hullier - get in here!" he shouted. "Send for the native scouts immediately! They will pay for what they have done!"
***
Little Feather left the camp quietly that night. He was feeling twitchy, a feeling he tried never to ignore for it had saved his life on more than one occasion. Cautiously, deerskin boots silent, he padded back along their trail for several miles. He'd been right! Peering over a ridge he saw a small, carefully screened campfire - Kickapoo! The French had reacted faster than he had feared and had sent their scouts after Crazy Bird as well as probably against the tribe. Cautiously he back-tracked ensuring that he was not seen. They would have to quicken their pace without it being obvious for they were outnumbered by the Kickapoo three to one!
When he reached their camp Jack and Oran were standing guard whilst Catherine slept. "We have a problem," he announced, keeping his voice low so not to wake her.
"Eh?"
"There are twelve Kickapoo on the trail behind us. We must travel hard and fast - and try to lose them as quickly as possible. I can get some help from a nearby village, but then they will know we are aware of them..." He glanced down at Catherine. "Don't let them take her," he warned as he looked at Jack. "If you love her, save one shot..."
Jack nodded silently, praying that it would not come to that. Could he shoot her... he honestly did not know. She always said that whilst there was life there was hope... could he take away that hope with a shot? "Let's not tell her..."
"Not tell me what?" she murmured, sleepily sitting up and rubbing her eyes. "Can't you three talk quietly!"
Jack looked at the others, his eyes holding theirs in the dark, ensuring their silence. "There are some Kickapoo followin' us," he warned. "We will have t' go faster luv!"
Without further questions she rolled out of her furs. "Do we start now then?"
Jack looked questioningly at Little Feather. "Do you need t' sleep?"
"I will be fine," he assured them. "They are too close for my liking - we must push on!"
Quickly they broke camp, covering the fire as best they could and riding out whilst it was still dark. Heading north-east they used every trick that Little Feather knew for although the ground was not rocky it had not rained for a number of weeks. The horses did not like having brush tied to their tails, but it covered their tracks nicely. Whenever they came to a river Little Feather would have them cross it a number of times, sometimes remaining on the same bank, sometimes not, sometimes riding in the actual river itself... anything, everything that they could think of. Every moment that the Kickapoo wasted trying to find their trail meant they fell a little further behind.
It was dark when they eventually made camp, but no fire was lit. Little Feather spoke quietly with Jack. "We are near another Chickasaw village. I will go there tonight and arrange for a welcome for the Kickapoo." He turned, disappearing into the darkness. "No lights, no noise Crazy Bird!" he warned.
Jack nodded, then smiled wryly as he realised Little Feather could not see him. He gently woke Catherine to share first watch with him, fingers on his lips. She understood and rose without a sound, sitting companionably in the silence of the night, scanning the darkness.
Little Feather returned two hours later, nodding in answer to his unspoken question before heading to his furs. "We leave before dawn," he whispered.
***
Over the next weeks the pattern was repeated - late to sleep, early to rise - sometimes they even napped in the saddle and rode through the night. Often Little Feather would sneak back at night along their trail, but no signs of the Kickapoo were seen. He did not relax though, not trusting that the local Chickasaw had been able to kill all of their pursuers. All the times the mountains grew closer, the heavily forested hills steeper. Jack watched Catherine worriedly. She was tiring, he could see that she often gasped for breath the higher they got. "Kitty?" he frowned, reaching across to touch her as they walked the horses up a particularly steep slope.
"I'm alright Jack," she smiled, but he could see that she was not.
He slowed until he walked next to Little Feather. "How long do we climb?" he asked. "Kitty is finding it hard..." He glanced at her, noting that her legs wobbled as she climbed.
Little Feather looked at her, nodding. "Let her ride or carry her - we cannot stop!" He looked back over his shoulder worriedly. "They are still out there!"
Jack nodded and scrambled closer to Catherine. "Kitty, ride a while..."
"I'm okay..."
"Kitty, don't argue!" He helped her up onto the horse, taking a hold of its bridle as he passed his horse to Little Feather. "Just ride a while Kitty, 'til yer get yer breath back... alright?"
He was relieved when she did not argue, but was equally concerned by her lack of protests - a sign to him of how poorly she truly was. They zigzagged up a steep hill to make it easier on the horses, but Catherine's horse stumbled, throwing her from its back.
"Kitty!" Jack raced after her as she tumbled a short way down the slope, coming to rest with a thud against a tree. "Kitty!" He was relieved to see her unhurt and conscious, but her face was contorted with pain. Jack looked up worriedly at Little Feather. "How many are there?"
"The Kickapoo... at least two, possibly more."
"Well then we ambush them an' end this!" Jack hissed angrily as Catherine's legs gave way again as he tried to help her rise. "We run no further Little Feather, however many there are!" Gently he helped her up again. "No arguments luv! The truth!"
Wobbling, she sat on the ground. "My head hurts, my chest hurts... here..." She indicated where she had been shot. "I can't breathe properly..." Jack picked her up and started walking. "No, put me down!" she protested, but she did not struggle much and soon fell asleep in his arms, utterly spent.
Jack looked at Little Feather. "She's exhausted mate... she can't go any further. Find us a camp an' we stop!"
Little Feather pointed ahead as they crested the rise. "It is downhill from here! She should find it easier now, the worst is behind us!"
"Find an ambush site Little Feather!" Jack glowered. "Kitty cannot go any further, riding or not!"
Little Feather sighed looking around. "We'll stop in that coppice over there - catch them as the come over the ridge. Oran - take the horses lower down the slope... we don't want them giving us away!"
***
Little Feather napped for a while, before rising and carefully watching the trail. He knew they would be coming soon and was hoping that it would just be the one. Catherine was still sleeping - Jack had been right, she really was exhausted from the fast pace that had been set and the injury to her chest had not made breathing in the thin mountain air easy for her.
Jack gently shook her awake. "Kitty," he whispered, "Kitty... we are laying an ambush for the Kickapoo still following. Don't worry if you hear m' pistol... alright?"
"Do you..." She struggled to rise.
"No! You stay an' rest luv..." He handed her pistol to her. "But keep this close, just in case..."
"Jack!" Little Feather waved urgently as he caught a flash of movement along the trail. Yes, he'd been right - two Kickapoo warriors cautiously walked along the trail, leading their horses as they stooped to check for tracks. Jack and Oran quietly cocked their pistols. "Wait..." Little Feather warned as a third warrior came into the view. "Jack - the one at the back... Oran the one on the left..."
"Port mate," Jack whispered to Oran.
The Kickapoo were nearly upon them when all three pistols fired, downing them instantly. They broke cover, rushing forwards swords drawn to ensure that those still breathing did not remain alive for long. Little Feather glanced cautiously around but there was no sign of any more warriors. Jack ran back to Catherine to reassure her all was well.
"We'll camp down near the horses," Little Feather sighed. "There is water there and shelter. We can stay until Little Fox is feeling better..." He walked after the horses that had fled in panic - if nothing else at least they could sell them.
***