Chapter 10: Revelations

Norrington respectfully removed his hat and gave a small nod to Doctor Winchcombe as he entered his office. Winchcombe was seated comfortably at his desk and gestured for the Commodore to sit at the provided chair. Norrington obliged somewhat stiffly and sat rigidly within the confines of the padded seat.

"What is this about, Doctor?"

The Doctor gave a smile and let out a little laugh. "You send me some poor woman on the brink of death and you wonder why I call you. I thought those captains taught you some brains!"

"They did," replied James grimly.

"Then use that head of yours, boy. I called you about the girl!"

James gave a confused stare, he hardly knew the woman and she him. They had no business with each other save he being executioner and she prisoner. "What do I have to do with that pirate?"

"Nothing I would hope, but I was curious to see if you knew anything about her." Winchcombe looked slyly over the tips of his steepled fingers, "did she speak to you at all?"

"She pleaded for her life, if that's what you are implying, sir."

Winchcombe shook his head, "no, no, that's not what I was looking for."

Raising an eyebrow, James folded his hands in his lap and sincerely wondered why he had bothered getting out of bed that day. First this pirate collapses so she can't be hanged, Gillette had tried to tell him something very important but couldn't and now his physician was asking about her past! What he wouldn't give to restart his day. "Then I'm afraid I can't help you."

"The reason I ask, Commodore, is because I need to know how much care I can give her. You're going to hang her – is it right for me to nurse her back to health?"

Norrington sighed and pursed his lips. "Just make sure she can stand."

Winchcombe gave a sniff of disapproval, "and why was she on the gallows?"

"Because she broke the law," came the Commodore's quiet response.

The Doctor rolled his eyes and leaned forward, "I'm not slow, James. What did she do? Am I dealing with someone dangerous?"

James felt like knocking his head against a wall. "Always I indulge others. No one indulges me."

"For old times' sake?" Winchcombe batted his eyes and gave a girlish smile.

Norrington ignored the face, "you must have gotten word of the ships that sailed in the other day?"

The Doctor nodded.

"Good, that makes things easier. From my point on the Dauntless, her ship was taking heavy cannon fire from three others. By the time we got sailed out there it was too late and her enemies had already sailed off." Norrington paused and looked out the window. When he looked back, the Doctor had stood and was moving several books from his desk into a nearby shelf. "Her ship sunk and we picked her up when we reached her. The marines brought her on deck and she gave me her letter of marque."

Winchcombe turned and leaned on his desk. Idly, he drummed his fingers as he thought. "So she was a privateer." His face became confused, " but that doesn't explain why you locked her up."

Norrington nodded and resumed his tale, "Earlier that week, I had received a later giving me specific orders 'to detain and hang one Andraste Rose for treason.' It gave the explanation that she had attacked several British merchant ships. Needless to say, she was quite surprised."

"So you told her?"

"Of course I did."

"And what did she say?" The Doctor's mind was placing together pieces of a very intricate puzzle.

"Naturally she claimed she was innocent." Norrington smiled, " but it's very hard to prove that when you have eye witnesses "

"Aha!" grinned Winchcombe, "wouldn't she have them too?"

"Eyewitnesses? Why I'm sure she does, but they're not here to testify, are they?" He paused as the Doctor's face dropped. He replied quietly, "I don't have to remind you that this is not a court system, do I? She has been found guilty and must hang."

The physician went back to placing his books in empty slots. He gave a comment over one shoulder, "you sound like you don't believe that."

The Commodore gave a frustrated groan before his cool demeanor settled in. "Why am I always second guessed? Does this amuse you?"

Winchcombe gave a halfhearted shrug and didn't bother to turn around. His hands stroked several especially old tomes of medical lore, "just an idle observation. I'm an old man, James. Indulge me."

James rubbed his face, glad that no one was there to see him. He didn't like being put on the spot. "It doesn't matter what I believe. I have to do my job."

"But what if she's innocent?" came the barely audible reply.

"We have no way to prove that." Norrington started to rub the bridge of his nose. This gave him a dreadful headache.

The Doctor twisted around violently, an excited gleam in his eyes, "why don't you try?"

"How?"

"Talk to her," replied Winchcombe as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

James gave a disbelieving laugh, "what would be the use?"

"Ascertain more information! Use your head, man! Besides," Winchcombe gave a sidelong glance to James, "you should see how she cleans up. Providing you don't rip each other to pieces, I think you two might get along quite well."

"Doctor, you haven't even spoken with the woman. For all we know, she could have the intelligence of a…of a tea cup."

"You can get good conversation from inanimate objects, James. Much more than with one of Royale's well bred ladies. Dull creatures they are."

"Incredibly. They're so suffocating, they sap the vitality straight from your bones!"

"Yes, evil lot are those pampered pedigrees. Still, you do what duty calls you to do," the elder man stroked a particularly old book fondly. Slowly his gaze met the Commodore's, "I must insist that you do come see her, if for nothing more than to get you out of your office. You spend all day in there and this might be a good distraction. You can decide what to do once you've spoken with her."

"I do not see the point," said James darkly, "but I shall follow where you lead, oh my captain. Now please, I do have some papers to attend to, if we could make this quick."

"Commodore," replied Winchcombe in the same tone, "playing with someone's life isn't something you can do quickly."

James did not respond but instead stood and waited to be led into the patient's room.

**

Sister Constance was gently sponging her ward's forehead with cool water when a knock upon the door startled her. She inadvertently dropped the sponge onto the face of her charge, and it landed with a schlop, its tiny rivets of water slipping down onto the captain's shirt. Had she have been awake, she would have angrily wiped the droplets away; small, light touches irritated her.

The nun moved to the door and opened it, respectfully nodding to both gentlemen as they entered but glowering at them once their backs were turned. This was her charge. It was terribly rude for a man to dress and tend to wounds on such a lascivious part of the body! Best let a woman do it and temptation could be removed. The Doctor? She knew she could trust him but this young Commodore. No, he could not stay there.

The nun gave a small cough of disapproval. "What about 'im?"

The Doctor turned and raised his eyebrows. "The Commodore?" He was quite surprised that the Sister would raise such a fuss.

"Yes," replied the nun.

Norrington strode to the window. At least the nun had a sense of propriety about her job.

"He's with me," assured Winchcombe. "We shall be fine, Sister. Thank you for your concern."

"Don't worry, ma'am. I'm here against my will," commented James.

The nun gave a little chirp of displeasure and reluctantly left the small room. She left a small crack in the door where she might study the activity from a far.

Winchcombe gave a small chuckle and checked the door, "don't mind Sister Constance, James. She's very serious about privacy and etiquette."

"The woman does her job well," remarked Norrington as he looked upon the occupant of the bed. He felt some measure of pity for the pale woman. And regret. He felt regret and guilt quite keenly as if someone were cutting him with a knife. His strings were being pulled in all the wrong directions! The rules were supposed to be easy but now there was doubt. How could they make a lie sound so convincing?

The doctor took his nurse's former position on the corner of the bed and grabbed a wash towel from the nearby water basin. He stroked a few wisps of hair away before applying the cool cloth. "I have seen many cases," said he whilst gently wiping the captain's brow, "where a patient's fevered state has opened up, to be what I presume, memories. When questioned, said patients often admit to having a fitful dream. Frightening no doubt, don't you think?"

Casually, Norrington hummed his approval, anything to shake off the Doctor and his questions. He settled for facing the window and mentally ticking off the possible actions he could take regarding his newest problem. Captain Rose was a pirate by Port Royale's definition and pirates had to be hung. No questions asked. She would have to go back to the gallows once she was healed and be sentenced again. Now James thought himself a reasonable man and could not for the life of him understand why, if only to die, Miss Rose was to be brought back to full health. He also couldn't very well let her go. The matter needed serious thought.

"By my estimation," continued the doctor, noticing the far away look in the Commodore's eyes, "she should be up and about within a week or two. I suspect that you will have her fate decided by then, sir?"

James blinked and stared hard at Doctor Winchcombe. "I shall, doctor. Whether she is hanged, shot, or imprisoned will be decided in the morning. But I for one hope that she dies in that fever."

Andraste's eyes flickered open for a moment, looked at the Commodore and then closed again. All of this happened too quickly for the Commodore to see, but the ever-vigilant watch of Winchcombe did not miss a thing. Perhaps James would be a factor in her recovery? He did not know.

"Mercy, sir?" The doctor teased, a small but sure smile settled on his lips as he stroked his patient's forehead.

"I don't know," the Commodore gave pause for a moment, something in his brain sparking. "I wonder if she bears relation to Charles Rose?"

"Who's he?" asked the Doctor.

James cocked his head to the side, "a naval officer. He retired several years ago, to this area I believe."

Winchcombe gave a small start. "Oh him! Yes, yes! The physician on his ship married my sister. How do you know the good Captain Rose?"

Andraste gave a small murmur. The Doctor patted her arm.

"I served under him as a midshipman and a Lieutenant before I was transferred to the Caribbean. Good man. Have you met him?"

"Once before," replied the Doctor fondly. He always liked meeting new people. He gave an absent smile as his mind drifted back eighteen years, "it was at a dinner. He brought along his wife and daughter. Was with his own parents too. Lovely people, those Roses."

Norrington's head shot up.

Winchcombe saw this and gave a comforting smile, "it's only a presumption and my aged mind. Don't work yourself into a fit yet."

Norrington's posture stiffened and he sniffed menacingly. He should not have left home today. With a last glance at the doctor and his charge, he turned his back on them and walked through the door and into the main ward of Port Royale's infirmary. He would have to check ship registrations and ask around for all the information he could find about the Roses.

Doctor Winchcombe only sighed and shook his head. He knew that ever since Elizabeth Swann had chosen Will Turner over James, James had thrown himself head first into his work. For the past year he had worked relentlessly to destroy all remnants of piracy, taking no breaks and seeing no one but his first Lieutenant, and Elizabeth when he was trying to court her. Winchcombe could guess many things about Gillette by the way he often stared after his friend, but the doctor also knew that Norrington wasn't that sort of man.

The Commodore's weakness, the doctor concluded, was that he had no solid woman to stand behind him. He had no anchor in Port Royale but his job, his family was left in England and he had no wife and children. Once settled, Winchcombe could easily imagine James being a little less stiff and stodgy. He might even make a joke or two or crack a smile in public. Until then, he would drive himself into the ground with work and end up in the hospital ward under Winchcombe's doting care.

Then Winchcombe would teach him the benefits of healthy living. And by the Lord, what a lesson he would drill into James!