Your patience is rewarded.  Find joy in this little drabble.  With any luck an actual chapter shall be forth coming tomorrow.  Author Thanks with the next actual chapter.

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Ignazio Gandolfi stood in a small cabin aboard his flagship and watched with impersonal eyes as the man before him cursed him vehemently.  He supposed the man did have cause.  After all, he had nearly disabled his ship and forcefully removed the man from his command.  And it was somewhat entertaining for the merchant to watch the man rage when he had no chance of escaping his current bonds.

   As Gandolfi had expected, Morgan had fled the ship once she had discovered the plot against her.  The woman was a coward, craven through and through.  But if she placed any value on the life of the man with whom she was corrupting with her loose ways and her false valor, then she would come.  She'd come right to him, and all he would have to do was wait.  Briefly he wondered if he should have had a ship follow the badly damaged Pearl, but decided that the pirate vessel wouldn't have completed the journey to its destination anyway.  Without a doubt it had put in at one of the many small islands in the Bahamas chain, perhaps one of the ones famous for repairing ships no matter what shape they were in or who commanded them.  It was a trade he detested; those who turned a blind eye to pirates were no better than the vermin themselves.  But by the end of this venture, the world would have one less pirate to worry about.

   As sudden flurry of curses in Italian caught his attention.  Focusing his gaze on the bound man before him he murmured, "Not as dim-witted as I imagined, it would seem.  You've sailed with Italians?"

   Sparrow shrugged, and replied in English.  "One or two, enough to pick up the dirtier side of the language."  And having said that, he continued to prove it, coming up with some rather inventive although physically impossible curses.

   "You're becoming tiresome, Captain Sparrow.  I'm sure that no matter what language you're using, you're simply repeating yourself, and repetition bores me."

   "I wasn't aware you invited me here for a chat."

   "You're right.  I didn't."  The small smile he bestowed upon Jack made it necessary for the captain to hide a shiver of unease.  His host clearly was not sailing with a full crew. 

   The man took a seat in the room's sole chair.  Conversationally he asked, "Would it surprise you if I said that I don't want to kill the harlot you've been bedding?"  Again he smiled as Jack tried to hide his reaction to the slur against his wife, but the man saw his objection anyway.  "Let us hope that she holds you in the same degree of esteem that you seem to hold her, otherwise I might have to come up with another plan to bring her to me, one that unfortunately would not involve you."  He was tapping his fingers against his arm in what appeared to be a nervous habit.  "But no.  Death is the furthest thing from my mind.  Her death, that is.  Death is all I can think about when I think of her, though."  His eyes started to focus internally rather than externally, but he caught himself. 

   "No mind.  My purpose in coming here was to assure you that you will be considered an . . . honored guest . . . while you are here.  I have no quarrel with you, just with the woman you've been taking satisfaction from."  Gandolfi got up, preparing to leave.  "I hope you weren't too attached to her, because I too intend to see . . . satisfaction . . . from her as well.  And as for her outcome in this . . . I haven't quite decided."  With those comforting words he left, leaving the pirate in an empty room.

   Jack struggled against his bonds, feeling them incrementally loosen.  Not that having his hands free would do him any good.  He hated it when Winn was right.  Pausing, feeling his skin burn where the ropes had rubbed his wrists raw, Jack thought, Winnie love, you'd best stay at Swallows Rest where it's safe.  It didn't matter what the consequences for him were – he'd outmaneuvered fate too many times to easily give up now – but his wife was another matter.  If fate had set its sights on her, he'd willingly step in and steal its attention.  Even if that meant giving in to a fate he had been cheating for so long.  As long as Winn was safe. 

   Jack started struggling against the ropes again, ignoring the fresh darts of pain and the slow teasing trailing of blood down his fingers.