~Chapter 7~

Surprisingly, the man's gun wasn't smoking. Thomas's was.

"Or maybe you'll be dead," he said.

The man keeled over backwards. Elanor rushed away from him, the back of her torn dress completely stained with blood that had leaked from the man's neck. Both captains hurried to him. Sparrow dropped to one knee.

"He's dead, the traitor. What'll we do with him?"

"The dead can't move, Jack," said Anamaria. "I'd bind the ones that aren't as bad off as that one. Take the young one, too."

"Why? I tried to save her!" Thomas protested as six pairs of hands closed in upon him. "I tried to save her!"

"But you shot my storyteller, boy," Captain Erif said. "For that, you get cast in this lot of backstabbers."

"The lad," Gibbs breathed. "To Port Royal at once! We've got to get the lad to Port Royal for some real medical treatment."

"We can't go rushing off to the scourge of pirates in the Caribbean, mate," said Sparrow. "They'd hang us all."

"It's to save a life, pirate. Or can't you comprehend that?"

"They're bloody pirates," Twigs piped up, dragging one of the unconscious men away to the brig. "They don' understand nothin'."

"I understand it, I do, but I just don't understand why yeh'd want to kill me!"

Captain Erif gave him a withering look, followed by a sharp pain on his toe. "Because you schemed with my own crew members to commandeer my ship and you are a pirate."

"A famous pirate," Jack said.

"Pirate scum," Captain Erif raged. "If they hang you, there will be one less pirate captain soiling the seas."

Elanor couldn't take it anymore. She stepped forward. "Please, just set course for Port Royal. He can't die. And you, you pirate captain; don't think he's going because he wants to see you hanged. My father thinks he's a pirate, too, and he'll have spread the word all across the coast by now. You leave Brian out here on this ship to die and I will see to it that you are hanged."

"She's right. I've unjustly been thrown into your field, pirate. Get some of your crew on that boat you call the Pearl and we'll do all we can for the lad here."

"Why shouldn't we just peel off now?" Sparrow said, circling him. "You can take the lad to Port Royal by yourselves."

"And you don't want to deal with these mutineers?"

The lust of revenge was too strong for the swaggering captain to pass up. "All right, fine. We'll sail on to Port Royal. In the meantime, have your doctor do whatever he can for the lad, savvy? Anamaria, Gibbs, Cotton, and Patchy, follow me to the Black Pearl!"

The doctor swept through the crowd into the library, followed closely by Elanor, Captain Erif, and Scaggs. "He's lost too much blood," the doctor said, even before kneeling to examine the boy. "See his face? He's deathly pale."

"Don't say death," Elanor pleaded in a hushed voice.

"If we get him to Port Royal before nightfall, he might have a chance. A slim chance, but still a chance. He could be coming to soon, but it'll all be foggy to him."

"Thank you, Dr. Tiller," said Captain Erif. He strode out and yelled, "Set course for Port Royal! Walters, Twigs, at the helm, if you please!"

Brian stirred. He groaned slightly, and then he opened his eyes. For a moment, he looked straight into Elanor's face, and then he groaned and closed them again.

"Out, young missy," Scaggs said, ushering Elanor toward the exit. "Remember your bargain with the captain. Go wait outside until we move him to his room."

Elanor went outside and leaned over the edge, looking at the horizon. Nightfall wasn't that far away; just how far were they from Port Royal? They just had to make it, or else Brian would be dead. Thomas was a traitor, a backstabbing murderer, the filth. She would never, ever speak to him again, ever, especially now that she was over her fever and seasickness. She had no more use for him and hoped that everyone would forget about him so he could rot away in the brig.

Inside the library, Dr. Tiller was feeling Brian's weak heartbeat when he came to. "Dr.. Dr. Tiller? Scaggs?"

"Aye, lad, how're yeh feelin'?" asked Scaggs.

"Not so good. I thought I saw Elanor's face." And he winced as the pain overtook him again. He instinctively brought his hands to his side, where the bullet had gone in deep.

"No, son, you can't do that. It'll only make it worse. I don't have the tools with me to extract bullets. You'll just have to wait until we make it to Port Royal." The doctor looked up at Scaggs. "If we make it to Port Royal."

"Mustn't think such thoughts, doctor," the first mate growled.

For the next few hours, the doctor and Scaggs looked over Brian and Elanor stood leaning over the edge of the ship, wondering if fate was going to cut Brian's life short. She wouldn't be able to stand it. She wouldn't even have the strength of will to have Jack Sparrow hanged. Brian had to heal. He just had to.

Someone laid a comforting hand on her back. She looked around to see Captain Jack Sparrow. "How'd you get here?" she asked, shrugging his hand off. "I thought you were on the Black Pearl."

"It's called ropes, lass," he said, taking his place next to her and staring at the horizon also. "I just wanted to know how you were taking it. I can see you two were great friends."

"Not the best," Elanor admitted, and it felt like she was admitting it to herself too. "We fought a lot, especially when I stowed away on board." This was humiliating to admit to a dirty pirate that she had stowed away on such a grand ship, but she would never disclose the reason why.

"A stowaway! Good for you, lass. I stowed away, too, once, when I was thirteen. It was on the loveliest ship of its time: the White Maiden. Didn't turn out too well, though. They found me and made me walk the plank. I swam until I felt my breaths wouldn't come any longer. It was my first visit to Tortuga, see." He drew a long breath. "Not the place for a lass like you, just like Port Royal is no place for a pirate like me."

"Why is that?" Elanor asked. Her anger had dissipated enough to allow her to think clearly. She wanted to be distracted from the real matter at hand: Brian's almost certain death.

"That's the place I nearly got hanged once. An old friend helped me out." Jack sighed. "I haven't seen him since that day. I wonder how he's doing? He fell in love with a beautiful maiden, such as yourself, and I'm supposing they got married. Maybe they have children. Maybe not. Who knows? And Norrington, he's-"

"I've heard of him! He's in the stories they tell about you."

"Really? They tell stories?" And Jack seemed genuinely interested to hear of his own escapades.

"Yes, they do. I've been hearing them since I was little: the tale of Captain Jack Sparrow, Will Turner, and the Black Pearl. They tell of how you saved Elizabeth Swann, the governor's daughter, and then you escaped from a crowd of people, which included Norrington and Elizabeth's father, the governor. Then you hid in the smithy, where you had to swordfight with Will Turner, and he captured you. That night, there was a raid on Port Royal, and the pirates of the Black Pearl took Elizabeth Swann. The next morning Will sprung you out of jail so you could go save her from the cursed pirates, who turned to skeletons in the moonlight because of a chest of cursed gold. They thought she was the daughter of one of their fellow pirates, Bootstrap Bill Turner, and they needed her to undo the curse. You and Will took control of a ship in the harbor and sailed off to her rescue, and lots and lots of other things, such as your former first mate Barbossa, who you eventually killed with the last shot from your pistol. And you were to be hanged, but Will saved you, and they let you get away when you dove off the wall. After that, Elizabeth and Will got married and lived happily ever after, just like in all fairy tales."

He chuckled. "They got most of the details correct. But do you really think it a fairy tale, lass." It wasn't a question; it was more of a statement. He thought about something for a few minutes, and then he said, "Lass, you keep strong during this ordeal with your friend. We'll take him to Will's. He'll know what to do with him. A blacksmith he might be, and not the sharpest tool in the shed, if you'll mind the pun, but he comes through when someone needs him." He sat on a barrel and kicked his feet up. "We're coming back, Will. Jack Sparrow's coming back."