IX - Evasive Manoeuvres
Marceau Gillette didn't know whether it was years of military training, coincidence, or a nudge from his guardian angel that made him glance over his shoulder at the exact same moment a pirate left his cover behind the oleander bush and lunged for him.
With a shout of warning for the two ladies by his side, he spun around, grabbed the pirate's arm and pulled him forward, then used his other hand to deliver a sharp jab at the man's stretched elbow. The sickening sound of breaking bone cut through the air. The knife in the pirate's hand fell to the ground and, with an anguished howl, he sank to his knees.
Gillette heard Isabeau scream and whirled around. Constance was lying unconscious on the ground. Four men had attacked the women and Isabeau was struggling against the two tallest of them while the other, shorter men, lifted Constance from the ground. As Gillette jumped into the fray and knocked one of the short pirates down, he could hear running footsteps approach.
Hoping that they belonged to the guards who had been posted outside the perimeter, he swung at the other man, who had hauled Constance over his shoulder. With the added weight of his precious cargo, the pirate was not fast enough to escape. Gillette decked him with a left hook. Losing his balance, the pirate tumbled backwards and fell into a group of acacias.
Then the first guards came running down the path.
Orders were shouted across the garden. The music in the ballroom had ceased playing. More pirates came out of the underbrush and Gillette was grabbed from behind. The first shot rang out.
* * * * * * *
Cat rushed towards the bookshelf and pulled at the appropriate volume until her action met resistance. A soft click could be heard and the shelf moved forward half an inch.
With their combined strength it did not take the two pirates long to pull the wooden frame away from the wall.
They both ran their hands over the exposed wood panelling, silently counting the various engraved designs. Simultaneously they pushed at two of those reliefs. The panelling opened and revealed a small alcove situated in the centre of the wall.
Cat reached into the alcove when, suddenly, lights exploded in front of her eyes. She felt the floor rushing upwards to meet her. With a groan she braced her hands on the carpet then reached for her dagger. Jack's retreating form swam before her eyes as she let the blade fly.
* * * * * * *
Four guards had already reached the acacias, where Isabeau and Lieutenant Gillette struggled against the pirates. The Bulldog swore viscously. He could hear more of those navy boys approach.
"Damn, that woman. She was supposed to get them into the gardens alone." He crouched lower hoping that the tree's canopy would hide him from the guards' eyes.
"This is not going to work. Change of plan, boys." He looked at Saman, one of his two sharpshooters. "Give the signal to draw back. Kill anyone who gets captured."
"You and I," he pointed at Martin, "will kill the women."
* * * * * * *
Jack felt searing pain rip through his shoulder. He fell forward, against the door. Taking deep breaths to steady himself he reached behind his back and pulled the dagger out of his flesh.
"That… was not nice."
He turned around and found Cat still lying on the floor. She was breathing slow and carefully and had her left hand pressed to her throbbing temple. In the other hand she held a pistol, which was steadily aimed at him. His hands tightened around the map.
"Now Cat…"
She drew the hammer back and finally looked directly at him.
Jack shivered. He had known Cat for twelve years and would have never thought that she had it in her to kill a man in cold blood. But now he was shocked to realise, that while he was looking into the eyes of a friend, a stranger was looking back out at him. There was a coldness in that gaze that made icy breath dance across the length of his spine.
"The map, Jack. Give me the map!"
The voice was deep and dead. Void of emotion, just filled with untouchable darkness. This was not the girl he had known for over a decade.
"What happened to you?" he asked quietly.
"I need that map."
This wasn't about a treasure, he suddenly realised. There was something else to that map, something he didn't know about.
"What for? You raided the African colonies for the past eight years. You can't tell me that you spent all those diamonds and all the gold, already."
"That map is mine," she persisted and pushed herself into a standing position. She swayed for a second than caught her footing. "Hand it over."
There was a snarl on her face, and, in that moment, Jack knew, that she would kill him.
He had heard the stories, of course. Heard the rumours and whispered tales of the Emerald Queen's captain and the sailors who had crossed her path. Having known Cat since she had first gone on the account, he had dismissed them. He had believed them to be gross exaggerations spread by her and her crew to build a reputation that would keep her out of trouble. Seeing her now, he began to wonder just how much truth was to be found in these stories.
"Help! Somebody help me!"
Jack and Cat both flinched, when they heard the valet's voice.
"Looks like Edward woke up," Jack said and looked back at Cat.
He frowned when he saw her looking uncertain. It was as if a shadow had lifted, leaving him with the girl he had known instead of the predator who had briefly taken her place.
Jack considered his choices. Despite his colourful persona and frequently outrageous behaviour he was no fool. Instinct told him that there was more to this map than met the eye. He found it hard to believe that Cat would be willing to kill a friend for gold and silver. There was something more important at stake here. Never having been one to resist his curiosity, Jack decided that this map was far too interesting to let it slip from his hands.
Carefully, he stepped forward. "I'll make you an offer. The guards are going to be here any minute. If they find us, we will both hang."
Cat, who seemed to have calmed down, scowled in displeasure. "Keep talking."
"We split the treasure, as I proposed earlier." Cutting of her protest, he rushed on. "And we split the map. In ten days we meet at the Isla de Muerta and start our quest from there."
"I don't know where that island is."
Jack smiled and raised his hands, wincing at the pain that still laced his back. "And neither does the Bulldog. You however," and he pulled a compass from his shirt, "just got the directions."
Cat lowered the pistol and approached. She took the compass and opened it, then frowned. "It doesn't point north."
Jack rolled his eyes in exasperation. "The island isn't north of here."
Cat raised an eyebrow. "Interesting."
With a smirk, Jack attempted a bow. "Welcome to the club. Do we have an accord? "
"There is one condition."
Jack was about to object, but she interrupted him.
"This is not negotiable." There was a tight warning in her voice, and, for once, Jack repressed the urge to draw the argument out any further. He could still hear Edward shouting for help. Multiple shots were fired outside and he could here people running up the staircase.
He nodded.
"I get first choice."
"So you can have all the diamonds and I will be stuck loading all the heavy gold?"
"We split the gold and diamonds evenly, but I get first dips on anything that belonged to the Moon Tide."
Jack tilted his head to the side. "Interesting phrasing."
"Take it or leave it."
He could see from the nervous looks that she directed at the door that she had heard the guards as well. Their time was running out. He grasped her hand and shook it.
"Agreed."
He ripped the map in half.
* * * * * * *
There was a harsh pounding in her head. Darkness was pulling her down, down, further into the abyss. Constance struggled to push upwards. She knew that she had to stay awake. It was important. So very important.
With a groan, she opened her eyes. There was shouting all around her. The noise made her flinch. She felt something heavy lifted from her legs and finally saw a marine lift one of the pirates, that had attacked her from her body. The pirate lashed out with his sword. The marine parried. Constance watched the fight with sick fascination. She felt disoriented and found it hard to keep her thoughts steady. Carefully, she lifted herself into a sitting position.
There was fighting all around. She saw Lieutenant Gillette struggle with a man who had attacked him from behind, but the young marine seemed to have gained the upper hand. Isabeau was standing a little apart from the fighting men, a hand pressed to her chest, her eyes wide with shock. Two Privates where standing beside her, talking to her in soothing voices.
Suddenly, a hand appeared in front of her face. Her gaze followed the man's arm upward to his face.
"My lady."
Still shacking, she gratefully accepted the offer and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. She had hardly reached a standing position when her gaze clouded over and the world tilted on its axis. She stumbled forward, blind to her surroundings and if the marine had not caught her she would have fallen down again. She could hear the thunder of gun shots and felt the steady support by her side disappear.
Startled, she looked at the man who was supposed to be standing next to her, and was confused to find him lying on the ground. Blood was flowing freely from his back, drenching his uniform with black stains. Canstance choked.
Suddenly she felt herself lifted off her feet and carried towards the house. Her gaze snapped to Commodore Norrington's face, and she winced when the pounding in her skull intensified. The Commodore deposited her next to a younger officer.
"Get her to the house. She has a concussion," he snapped. Then he disappeared again.
The young marine offered her his arm, but Constance had turned back towards the outer wall of the gardens and the mayhem that still occupied the path.
Then she saw Isabeau.
It took her a moment to realise that the motionless body belong to her sister. She lay on her back, the front of her gown covered in blood. The two Privates were crouching beside her. One of them reached for Isabeau's wrist to feel her pulse.
Constance could hear her own blood rushing through her head, drowning out every noise around her.
The marine shook his head, regretfully.
"Nooo!"
Constance didn't realise that she had screamed. She didn't realise that she was running towards her sister's body until she felt herself lifted up once again and carried away. Hot tears ran down her cheeks and her hands reached futilely towards Isabeau.
* * * * * * *
The corridor was blocked. The sound of splintering wood could be heard, as a door, further down the hallway, was forced open, and Edward was freed. The only way to escape was through the window.
Jack saluted mockingly. "See you in ten days."
Then he was out the window and half way up to the roof despite the wound in his shoulder.
Cat collected her dagger and wiped it clean on the hem of her skirt. She secured her half of the map, the compass, and both of her weapons, then followed Jack to the window.
Escaping through the garden was not an option. The ground was swarming with marines. She carefully surveyed the handholds that would allow her to reach the roof. It would not be easy to climb up there in her dress, but she could not afford to leave it behind either. She still felt dizzy from the blow that Jack had dealt her. Cursing, she hoped the knife wound would cause him just as much discomfort as he had caused her.
She climbed onto the windowsill and, with a last look towards the library door, which would burst open any moment, she began her ascend.
By the time she had reached the roof, she could hear the guards storming the library. With a last desperate effort she swung herself onto the shingles. She lay flat on her back and tried to breath quietly. Jack was nowhere in sight. Hoping despairingly, that it would take the marines some time to consider the roof as a possible escape route, she scurried over the shingles to the front of the mansion and spied over the rim.
The evening's guests were leaving the estate in a rush. Coaches were rolling through the iron gates in a long procession. There were guards posted here as well, but Cat could not see more than three. The majority of marines had hurried to the gardens. She regrettably looked down at her dress. The climb up the wall had left too many marks on it for her to mingle with the departing crowd.
Cat crawled further along the roof to the eastern corner. Here, she was a good distance away from the driveway and even further from the fighting ground. Below, she could see tightly grown underbrush that was void of human occupation. She lay quietly atop the roof for several minutes, observing the driveway and the ground directly below her.
When no one approached the area, she carefully began to climb downward.
* * * * * * *
The last pirate fell to the ground, directly in front of the Commodore. Yet, the head wound that had killed him, had neither been caused by Norrington, nor by one of his men. The shots had come from outside the estate's walls.
Norrington quickly assessed the situation around him. Six pirates were dead, as were two of his marines. Miss Constance Travers had been brought back to the mansion along with her dead sister. Norrington ruthlessly pushed the regret and guilt he had felt at the sight of the lifeless body deep into his mind and locked it away. This was not the time to mourn.
Lieutenant Gillette had caught a bullet through his shoulder. He had bound the wound with cloth, but held the newly acquired sword firmly in his hands. His face was pale, but it was evident that he would not abandon his post or duties without a direct order.
Norrington felt an odd conflict of respect and exasperation rising within him.
"Lieutenant Groves, " he barked.
The young Lieutenant appeared almost instantaneously beside him.
"Yes, Sir."
"Take two men with you down to the harbour. Find the Watch Commander, rouse the Harbour Master. I want all ships, the docks and merchant piers searched. Tell Lieutenant Marrick to divide the remaining guards into six groups to search Port Royale."
"Aye, Sir."
Norrington watched the Lieutenant run across the path, shouting orders. A second later he found himself cornered between Lieutenant Gillette and Governor Swann, who came running from the mansion. Gillette's eyes burned with barely restrained fire but he leashed his temper and allowed the Governor to speak first.
The man was panting from the short run. His wig was askew and an expression of deep concern etched the lines in his face deeper than usual.
"They stole the map. The safe in the library was open and they locked Edward into an empty quest room."
Norrington seized the opportunity to calm the Governor while forcing his wounded Lieutenant to have his shoulder treated.
"I will take care of the matter immediately, Governor. Gillette, accompany the Governor back to the mansion and have a physician look at your injury."
He silenced the protest Gillette was about to voice with a stern look. He could see that the Lieutenant was still seething, because he did not consider the wound serious enough to merit his dismissal from the search parties.
Seeing that his orders were carried out, Norrington called two Privates to his side and headed towards Port Royale.
* * * * * * *
Cat had safely found her way down the roof and through the underbrush. Her dress had been ruined in the process, but since it had saved her life once by catching on an iron window ornament when she had lost her footing, she saw no need to mourn the loss.
Her arms felt as if they had been filled with lead as she pulled herself on top of the wall that surrounded the estate. Small groups of marines where running down the street towards Port Royale, and she held her breath, praying that she would not be seen. She saw the Commodore run past, just as the last of the coaches rolled out of the gate.
She waited, her gaze sweeping the street. When she was convinced that no more guards or guest were leaving the estate, she slipped onto the pavement and ran into the opposite direction, away from the ocean.
* * * * * * *
Closely followed by the Privates Murtogg and Mullroy, Commodore Norrington rounded a corner, and found himself in the small square outside the smithy which Mr.Brown had turned over to Will Turner once he had retired. From this vantage point he had a clear view of the harbour and saw with satisfaction that Lieutenant Groves had already carried out his orders, for the piers where swarming with marines.
Without hesitation, he crossed the path and ran towards the short staircase that led up to an archway. Right in front of the archway, in an alcove to the right, stood the statue of a blacksmith. Norrington had almost past the stone figure when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Without thinking, he reacted and turned towards the statue.
A man jumped forward.
At first, Norrington thought that he was hallucinating. *It can't be,* his mind told him, though his eyes allowed no denial.
Jack Sparrow barged straight into his left shoulder and pushed him backwards against the wall. The Commodore instinctively raised his sword to block an attack, but Sparrow was already bounding down the two steps to the square. The pirate managed to evade Mullroy's sword, but Private Murtogg slashed his arm with a downward swipe.
Norrington saw the pirate grimace with pain, but he had already reached the smithy's front door. Norrington charged after him.
"So long, Commodore," Jack said and closed the heavy wooden door in his face.
In his frustration, Norrington threw his body against the door, hoping to force it open before Sparrow could bolt it from the inside with a sturdy beam of wood. The door did not buckle and inch and Norrington felt pain lace through his shoulder. He turned to the two Privates.
"You two open that door," he ordered. Then he was off, up the stairs and through the archway. He knew that the smithy had a back exit, but there was no direct route to it. He ran along the street, turned right, then left, and right again until he finally stood in the smithy's backyard, which held the stables and further storage rooms.
Carefully, he approached the back door. It was still locked. He could hear the efforts of the two Privates, who where hauling themselves at the front door. Without wasting a thought on waiting for reinforcements, he threw his shoulder against the back door. Being nowhere near as sturdy as the front entrance, the wood gave way immediately and Norrington stumbled onto the straw covered floor. At the same moment, Mullroy and Murtogg broke through the front door.
The smithy was empty. Norrington looked at the framework that supported the roof and saw a window above the middle beam hanging open.
Anger boiled up inside of him as he turned towards the Privates. "Split up. Tell every marine you meet that we are looking for Captain Jack Sparrow."
The Privates nodded and hurried away to carry out their orders. Norrington was left standing inside the smithy. The image of Isabeau Travers dead body flashed before his eyes.
"You will hang for this, Sparrow," he whispered.
* * * * * * *
Marceau Gillette didn't know whether it was years of military training, coincidence, or a nudge from his guardian angel that made him glance over his shoulder at the exact same moment a pirate left his cover behind the oleander bush and lunged for him.
With a shout of warning for the two ladies by his side, he spun around, grabbed the pirate's arm and pulled him forward, then used his other hand to deliver a sharp jab at the man's stretched elbow. The sickening sound of breaking bone cut through the air. The knife in the pirate's hand fell to the ground and, with an anguished howl, he sank to his knees.
Gillette heard Isabeau scream and whirled around. Constance was lying unconscious on the ground. Four men had attacked the women and Isabeau was struggling against the two tallest of them while the other, shorter men, lifted Constance from the ground. As Gillette jumped into the fray and knocked one of the short pirates down, he could hear running footsteps approach.
Hoping that they belonged to the guards who had been posted outside the perimeter, he swung at the other man, who had hauled Constance over his shoulder. With the added weight of his precious cargo, the pirate was not fast enough to escape. Gillette decked him with a left hook. Losing his balance, the pirate tumbled backwards and fell into a group of acacias.
Then the first guards came running down the path.
Orders were shouted across the garden. The music in the ballroom had ceased playing. More pirates came out of the underbrush and Gillette was grabbed from behind. The first shot rang out.
* * * * * * *
Cat rushed towards the bookshelf and pulled at the appropriate volume until her action met resistance. A soft click could be heard and the shelf moved forward half an inch.
With their combined strength it did not take the two pirates long to pull the wooden frame away from the wall.
They both ran their hands over the exposed wood panelling, silently counting the various engraved designs. Simultaneously they pushed at two of those reliefs. The panelling opened and revealed a small alcove situated in the centre of the wall.
Cat reached into the alcove when, suddenly, lights exploded in front of her eyes. She felt the floor rushing upwards to meet her. With a groan she braced her hands on the carpet then reached for her dagger. Jack's retreating form swam before her eyes as she let the blade fly.
* * * * * * *
Four guards had already reached the acacias, where Isabeau and Lieutenant Gillette struggled against the pirates. The Bulldog swore viscously. He could hear more of those navy boys approach.
"Damn, that woman. She was supposed to get them into the gardens alone." He crouched lower hoping that the tree's canopy would hide him from the guards' eyes.
"This is not going to work. Change of plan, boys." He looked at Saman, one of his two sharpshooters. "Give the signal to draw back. Kill anyone who gets captured."
"You and I," he pointed at Martin, "will kill the women."
* * * * * * *
Jack felt searing pain rip through his shoulder. He fell forward, against the door. Taking deep breaths to steady himself he reached behind his back and pulled the dagger out of his flesh.
"That… was not nice."
He turned around and found Cat still lying on the floor. She was breathing slow and carefully and had her left hand pressed to her throbbing temple. In the other hand she held a pistol, which was steadily aimed at him. His hands tightened around the map.
"Now Cat…"
She drew the hammer back and finally looked directly at him.
Jack shivered. He had known Cat for twelve years and would have never thought that she had it in her to kill a man in cold blood. But now he was shocked to realise, that while he was looking into the eyes of a friend, a stranger was looking back out at him. There was a coldness in that gaze that made icy breath dance across the length of his spine.
"The map, Jack. Give me the map!"
The voice was deep and dead. Void of emotion, just filled with untouchable darkness. This was not the girl he had known for over a decade.
"What happened to you?" he asked quietly.
"I need that map."
This wasn't about a treasure, he suddenly realised. There was something else to that map, something he didn't know about.
"What for? You raided the African colonies for the past eight years. You can't tell me that you spent all those diamonds and all the gold, already."
"That map is mine," she persisted and pushed herself into a standing position. She swayed for a second than caught her footing. "Hand it over."
There was a snarl on her face, and, in that moment, Jack knew, that she would kill him.
He had heard the stories, of course. Heard the rumours and whispered tales of the Emerald Queen's captain and the sailors who had crossed her path. Having known Cat since she had first gone on the account, he had dismissed them. He had believed them to be gross exaggerations spread by her and her crew to build a reputation that would keep her out of trouble. Seeing her now, he began to wonder just how much truth was to be found in these stories.
"Help! Somebody help me!"
Jack and Cat both flinched, when they heard the valet's voice.
"Looks like Edward woke up," Jack said and looked back at Cat.
He frowned when he saw her looking uncertain. It was as if a shadow had lifted, leaving him with the girl he had known instead of the predator who had briefly taken her place.
Jack considered his choices. Despite his colourful persona and frequently outrageous behaviour he was no fool. Instinct told him that there was more to this map than met the eye. He found it hard to believe that Cat would be willing to kill a friend for gold and silver. There was something more important at stake here. Never having been one to resist his curiosity, Jack decided that this map was far too interesting to let it slip from his hands.
Carefully, he stepped forward. "I'll make you an offer. The guards are going to be here any minute. If they find us, we will both hang."
Cat, who seemed to have calmed down, scowled in displeasure. "Keep talking."
"We split the treasure, as I proposed earlier." Cutting of her protest, he rushed on. "And we split the map. In ten days we meet at the Isla de Muerta and start our quest from there."
"I don't know where that island is."
Jack smiled and raised his hands, wincing at the pain that still laced his back. "And neither does the Bulldog. You however," and he pulled a compass from his shirt, "just got the directions."
Cat lowered the pistol and approached. She took the compass and opened it, then frowned. "It doesn't point north."
Jack rolled his eyes in exasperation. "The island isn't north of here."
Cat raised an eyebrow. "Interesting."
With a smirk, Jack attempted a bow. "Welcome to the club. Do we have an accord? "
"There is one condition."
Jack was about to object, but she interrupted him.
"This is not negotiable." There was a tight warning in her voice, and, for once, Jack repressed the urge to draw the argument out any further. He could still hear Edward shouting for help. Multiple shots were fired outside and he could here people running up the staircase.
He nodded.
"I get first choice."
"So you can have all the diamonds and I will be stuck loading all the heavy gold?"
"We split the gold and diamonds evenly, but I get first dips on anything that belonged to the Moon Tide."
Jack tilted his head to the side. "Interesting phrasing."
"Take it or leave it."
He could see from the nervous looks that she directed at the door that she had heard the guards as well. Their time was running out. He grasped her hand and shook it.
"Agreed."
He ripped the map in half.
* * * * * * *
There was a harsh pounding in her head. Darkness was pulling her down, down, further into the abyss. Constance struggled to push upwards. She knew that she had to stay awake. It was important. So very important.
With a groan, she opened her eyes. There was shouting all around her. The noise made her flinch. She felt something heavy lifted from her legs and finally saw a marine lift one of the pirates, that had attacked her from her body. The pirate lashed out with his sword. The marine parried. Constance watched the fight with sick fascination. She felt disoriented and found it hard to keep her thoughts steady. Carefully, she lifted herself into a sitting position.
There was fighting all around. She saw Lieutenant Gillette struggle with a man who had attacked him from behind, but the young marine seemed to have gained the upper hand. Isabeau was standing a little apart from the fighting men, a hand pressed to her chest, her eyes wide with shock. Two Privates where standing beside her, talking to her in soothing voices.
Suddenly, a hand appeared in front of her face. Her gaze followed the man's arm upward to his face.
"My lady."
Still shacking, she gratefully accepted the offer and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. She had hardly reached a standing position when her gaze clouded over and the world tilted on its axis. She stumbled forward, blind to her surroundings and if the marine had not caught her she would have fallen down again. She could hear the thunder of gun shots and felt the steady support by her side disappear.
Startled, she looked at the man who was supposed to be standing next to her, and was confused to find him lying on the ground. Blood was flowing freely from his back, drenching his uniform with black stains. Canstance choked.
Suddenly she felt herself lifted off her feet and carried towards the house. Her gaze snapped to Commodore Norrington's face, and she winced when the pounding in her skull intensified. The Commodore deposited her next to a younger officer.
"Get her to the house. She has a concussion," he snapped. Then he disappeared again.
The young marine offered her his arm, but Constance had turned back towards the outer wall of the gardens and the mayhem that still occupied the path.
Then she saw Isabeau.
It took her a moment to realise that the motionless body belong to her sister. She lay on her back, the front of her gown covered in blood. The two Privates were crouching beside her. One of them reached for Isabeau's wrist to feel her pulse.
Constance could hear her own blood rushing through her head, drowning out every noise around her.
The marine shook his head, regretfully.
"Nooo!"
Constance didn't realise that she had screamed. She didn't realise that she was running towards her sister's body until she felt herself lifted up once again and carried away. Hot tears ran down her cheeks and her hands reached futilely towards Isabeau.
* * * * * * *
The corridor was blocked. The sound of splintering wood could be heard, as a door, further down the hallway, was forced open, and Edward was freed. The only way to escape was through the window.
Jack saluted mockingly. "See you in ten days."
Then he was out the window and half way up to the roof despite the wound in his shoulder.
Cat collected her dagger and wiped it clean on the hem of her skirt. She secured her half of the map, the compass, and both of her weapons, then followed Jack to the window.
Escaping through the garden was not an option. The ground was swarming with marines. She carefully surveyed the handholds that would allow her to reach the roof. It would not be easy to climb up there in her dress, but she could not afford to leave it behind either. She still felt dizzy from the blow that Jack had dealt her. Cursing, she hoped the knife wound would cause him just as much discomfort as he had caused her.
She climbed onto the windowsill and, with a last look towards the library door, which would burst open any moment, she began her ascend.
By the time she had reached the roof, she could hear the guards storming the library. With a last desperate effort she swung herself onto the shingles. She lay flat on her back and tried to breath quietly. Jack was nowhere in sight. Hoping despairingly, that it would take the marines some time to consider the roof as a possible escape route, she scurried over the shingles to the front of the mansion and spied over the rim.
The evening's guests were leaving the estate in a rush. Coaches were rolling through the iron gates in a long procession. There were guards posted here as well, but Cat could not see more than three. The majority of marines had hurried to the gardens. She regrettably looked down at her dress. The climb up the wall had left too many marks on it for her to mingle with the departing crowd.
Cat crawled further along the roof to the eastern corner. Here, she was a good distance away from the driveway and even further from the fighting ground. Below, she could see tightly grown underbrush that was void of human occupation. She lay quietly atop the roof for several minutes, observing the driveway and the ground directly below her.
When no one approached the area, she carefully began to climb downward.
* * * * * * *
The last pirate fell to the ground, directly in front of the Commodore. Yet, the head wound that had killed him, had neither been caused by Norrington, nor by one of his men. The shots had come from outside the estate's walls.
Norrington quickly assessed the situation around him. Six pirates were dead, as were two of his marines. Miss Constance Travers had been brought back to the mansion along with her dead sister. Norrington ruthlessly pushed the regret and guilt he had felt at the sight of the lifeless body deep into his mind and locked it away. This was not the time to mourn.
Lieutenant Gillette had caught a bullet through his shoulder. He had bound the wound with cloth, but held the newly acquired sword firmly in his hands. His face was pale, but it was evident that he would not abandon his post or duties without a direct order.
Norrington felt an odd conflict of respect and exasperation rising within him.
"Lieutenant Groves, " he barked.
The young Lieutenant appeared almost instantaneously beside him.
"Yes, Sir."
"Take two men with you down to the harbour. Find the Watch Commander, rouse the Harbour Master. I want all ships, the docks and merchant piers searched. Tell Lieutenant Marrick to divide the remaining guards into six groups to search Port Royale."
"Aye, Sir."
Norrington watched the Lieutenant run across the path, shouting orders. A second later he found himself cornered between Lieutenant Gillette and Governor Swann, who came running from the mansion. Gillette's eyes burned with barely restrained fire but he leashed his temper and allowed the Governor to speak first.
The man was panting from the short run. His wig was askew and an expression of deep concern etched the lines in his face deeper than usual.
"They stole the map. The safe in the library was open and they locked Edward into an empty quest room."
Norrington seized the opportunity to calm the Governor while forcing his wounded Lieutenant to have his shoulder treated.
"I will take care of the matter immediately, Governor. Gillette, accompany the Governor back to the mansion and have a physician look at your injury."
He silenced the protest Gillette was about to voice with a stern look. He could see that the Lieutenant was still seething, because he did not consider the wound serious enough to merit his dismissal from the search parties.
Seeing that his orders were carried out, Norrington called two Privates to his side and headed towards Port Royale.
* * * * * * *
Cat had safely found her way down the roof and through the underbrush. Her dress had been ruined in the process, but since it had saved her life once by catching on an iron window ornament when she had lost her footing, she saw no need to mourn the loss.
Her arms felt as if they had been filled with lead as she pulled herself on top of the wall that surrounded the estate. Small groups of marines where running down the street towards Port Royale, and she held her breath, praying that she would not be seen. She saw the Commodore run past, just as the last of the coaches rolled out of the gate.
She waited, her gaze sweeping the street. When she was convinced that no more guards or guest were leaving the estate, she slipped onto the pavement and ran into the opposite direction, away from the ocean.
* * * * * * *
Closely followed by the Privates Murtogg and Mullroy, Commodore Norrington rounded a corner, and found himself in the small square outside the smithy which Mr.Brown had turned over to Will Turner once he had retired. From this vantage point he had a clear view of the harbour and saw with satisfaction that Lieutenant Groves had already carried out his orders, for the piers where swarming with marines.
Without hesitation, he crossed the path and ran towards the short staircase that led up to an archway. Right in front of the archway, in an alcove to the right, stood the statue of a blacksmith. Norrington had almost past the stone figure when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Without thinking, he reacted and turned towards the statue.
A man jumped forward.
At first, Norrington thought that he was hallucinating. *It can't be,* his mind told him, though his eyes allowed no denial.
Jack Sparrow barged straight into his left shoulder and pushed him backwards against the wall. The Commodore instinctively raised his sword to block an attack, but Sparrow was already bounding down the two steps to the square. The pirate managed to evade Mullroy's sword, but Private Murtogg slashed his arm with a downward swipe.
Norrington saw the pirate grimace with pain, but he had already reached the smithy's front door. Norrington charged after him.
"So long, Commodore," Jack said and closed the heavy wooden door in his face.
In his frustration, Norrington threw his body against the door, hoping to force it open before Sparrow could bolt it from the inside with a sturdy beam of wood. The door did not buckle and inch and Norrington felt pain lace through his shoulder. He turned to the two Privates.
"You two open that door," he ordered. Then he was off, up the stairs and through the archway. He knew that the smithy had a back exit, but there was no direct route to it. He ran along the street, turned right, then left, and right again until he finally stood in the smithy's backyard, which held the stables and further storage rooms.
Carefully, he approached the back door. It was still locked. He could hear the efforts of the two Privates, who where hauling themselves at the front door. Without wasting a thought on waiting for reinforcements, he threw his shoulder against the back door. Being nowhere near as sturdy as the front entrance, the wood gave way immediately and Norrington stumbled onto the straw covered floor. At the same moment, Mullroy and Murtogg broke through the front door.
The smithy was empty. Norrington looked at the framework that supported the roof and saw a window above the middle beam hanging open.
Anger boiled up inside of him as he turned towards the Privates. "Split up. Tell every marine you meet that we are looking for Captain Jack Sparrow."
The Privates nodded and hurried away to carry out their orders. Norrington was left standing inside the smithy. The image of Isabeau Travers dead body flashed before his eyes.
"You will hang for this, Sparrow," he whispered.
* * * * * * *
