Disclaimer: see chapter 1
Author's note: I'm looking for critical comments on two areas in this chapter: i) it's rather dialogue-heavy - too much so? ii) is my Spanish correct? Any thoughts/corrections welcomed! Thanks for the continued feedback and support.
----
Jack followed Menéndez into his cabin, accompanied by Carpenter who was looking, if possible, even paler than he had done a few minutes before. The Spaniard's cabin was positively Spartan, particularly when compared with Jack's aboard the Black Pearl.
Menéndez settled himself into a chair, and did not offer Jack one. Carpenter hung back by the door, fidgeting. After a moment, Jack pulled out a seat and sat down.
The two captains watched each other, silently, for a while. Menéndez's mouth twitched, as if he was holding something back, and finally he spoke.
"You are Jack Sparrow, then?"
Jack considered, briefly, denying it, but decided that trying to turn the situation to his advantage would be more useful. "Aye, I am."
"I had thought you would be older," Menéndez observed, leaning back in his chair.
"People tend to," Jack agreed, mildly.
"And I had not expected to find you aboard a merchant ship," the Spaniard went on. "Would you care to tell me why your ship is over there," he gestured, "and you are aboard my Lucia, pretending to be an ordinary pirate?"
Jack steepled his hands before his face. "It's not like I'd have chosen," he said. "Mutiny, it was."
"You let your crew take your ship?" Menéndez's eyes held mingled pity and scorn.
"I didn't let them take it," Jack said. "If y'r whole crew decides they want the ship, they'll have it. I might be Captain Jack Sparrow, but I can't fight twenty men and win."
"So they ... marooned you, and you escaped?" Menéndez asked. "And you set sail on that merchant?"
"'S'about it," Jack said. "Before you picked me up - and I'm very grateful to you, cap'n, for it."
There was another long silence. By the door, Carpenter shifted his feet. The candle flame in the lantern swinging from the ceiling flickered.
"We're in port," Menéndez said, eventually, speaking slowly. "This would be the ideal moment to put you off, Sparrow. Indeed you could rejoin your ship, if that is your wish."
"I don't want merely to rejoin my ship," Jack said, leaning forward. "I want my ship. The Black Pearl is mine. Savvy?"
"And the Lucia is mine," Menéndez returned. "Sabes?"
"Lucia, yours," agreed Jack, hands fluttering. "Of course."
"Mr Carpenter!" Menéndez said, looking up and at Carpenter.
"Aye, cap'n?"
"How long have you known this man?" The Spaniard indicated Jack.
Carpenter cleared his throat. "I ... well, dunno, rightly, cap'n. He joined the Pearl when just a lad, and sailed with her still when I went 'ome."
"How long was that?"
Glancing at Jack, Carpenter frowned. "Ten year?"
"Aye, something like that," Jack said.
"The lad had the uncanniest luck," Carpenter went on. "This one time ..."
Jack shot Carpenter a sharp look, and flashed Menéndez a glittering grin. "Cap'n Menéndez don't need to know that, Elias. Suffice to say, cap'n, I've had the good fortune to get out of the odd scrape."
"Not lucky enough to escape mutiny, though," Menénedez observed.
"No," Jack said, "perhaps not." He met Menéndez's eyes. "Look, mate. I want my Pearl back. I have no desires for your ship, lovely though she is. I can't go ashore and find men to help me take the old lady from that wretch Barbossa, 'cos he'll scarper before I get a chance to board. Now, if you'll loan me some lads, I'll nip over and win her back. Won't keep the men." He studied the Spaniard's face, which was impassive in the dim light. "Or," Jack went on, "you let me stay aboard the Lucia under your command, as James Swift, and I'll bide my time."
Menéndez pushed back his chair and stood up, crossing to a small barrel propped up in a corner and drawing himself a cup of wine. He drank deeply, standing by the stern windows, and then refilled the cup.
"There is a third choice," he said, turning back to Jack. "I could put you ashore now, tonight, Sparrow. With no men."
"Why would you do that?" Jack asked, trying to sound as if he had not thought of this option himself.
The captain came to sit down again, putting his cup down deliberately on the table. "You're a dangerous man to have around, Sparrow. There are, you know, stories about you. You're unpredictable. You're dishonest. You take unnecessary risks."
"I'm a pirate, Captain Menéndez," Jack said. "What else d'you expect? What are you, if not dishonest?"
"I would never risk the life of my crew without cause!" Menéndez returned, some ire entering into his voice. "And I do not see your black ship across the harbour as due cause. Además, you boarded my vessel under a false name and with false credentials. I would rather you left."
Jack leaned back, his mind whirring as he tried to think of something, anything, that would persuade this stiff, dry man to allow him to remain on board the Lucia. "You'll miss my blade," he said, eventually and rather desperately.
"Enough!" said Menéndez. "You will leave my ship, Captain Jack Sparrow. Any resistance and I'll send Mr Carpenter here with you."
"That's a low blow, Captain Menéndez," Jack remonstrated. "But there you have me. Aye, I'm a dishonest man. I'm a thief and a pirate, a scoundrel and a rogue, and I'm not sorry for it." He stood up, dramatically. "But I am honourable, and I'll not ruin another man with me. I'll leave your ship, and may luck go with you."
"Jack!" said Carpenter.
Jack turned, and put a hand on his old friend's shoulder. "Stay here, Elias. I don't know rightly what I'll do next, and there's no point both of us being bound to land. Thanks for getting me aboard - better than being headed for England on a merchant vessel, eh?" He swivelled on one foot, and gave Menéndez an elaborate bow. "Gracias," he said, before heading towards the door.
Carpenter stopped him. "You'll be all right, lad?" he asked, his voice filled with worry.
Smiling his widest, most charming smile, Jack nodded. "Of course. I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, savvy?"
He clapped Carpenter on the back in a friendly manner, tipped his hat to Menéndez, and left the cabin.
Half an hour later, having collected his belongings, Jack was standing on the shore, watching the single swinging lantern of the Lucia's skiff head back towards the ship. Over on the Black Pearl, a light shone in the captain's cabin, and Jack bitterly thought of Barbossa taking his ease there.
He tightened his swordbelt, straightened his hat, and with a final, longing look at his ship, turned from the water.
Avoiding the centre of Tortuga, Jack Sparrow slipped unerringly through the dark streets, heading out of town and up into the hills above. It had been years since he had walked this path, but his feet remembered it well enough, even in the dark.
It was only dawn when he reached his destination. The sun was just rising, colouring the palm-leaf roof of the small building a gentle rose-pink. In the cleared ground around it, a few goats were rousing themselves from a peaceful night's doze, and were beginning to crop the grass. As Jack turned on to the dusty path leading to the building, a rooster flapped out of a coop, perched on top of it, and welcomed the morning with a lusty crow.
Jack smiled, and settled down on the little bench outside the hut to wait for its occupants.
They were not too long in stirring. After only a short while, smoke curled out of the vent in the roof, and an appetising smell of something cooking drifted into the air. Jack's stomach rumbled. He could hear people moving inside the building, and shortly the door opened.
A slim figure emerged, stretched, and wandered over to the undergrowth two hundred yards or so distant. Jack took his hat off and tried ineffectually to straighten his clothes.
On the way back from the undergrowth, the figure paused to pat one of the goats on the head and then by the chicken coop, reaching in to look for eggs. Three were found, and holding them carefully, the figure turned to go back to the hut.
"Mornin', Ana," Jack said, standing up.
Anamaria started, and nearly dropped the eggs. "Cochon!" she exclaimed.
"Nice way t'greet an old friend," Jack said, mock-affronted.
His old friend and erstwhile crewmate put the eggs down, crossed to him, and gave him a resounding slap on the face before throwing her arms around him.
"I don't think," said Jack, returning the embrace, "I deserved that."
"They said you were dead!" Anamaria said, stepping back and examining him critically.
"Who said I was dead?" he asked.
"People. In Tortuga. I was there last night, and I heard you were dead and the Pearl was in the hands of that man Barbossa."
"The last's true enough," Jack said, regretfully.
"It was that gold," she said. "That cursed gold. Wasn't it?"
He nodded. "Men lust after gold, same as they lust after lasses. Pirates more so. You know that yourself, love; you're a pirate too."
Anamaria grunted, and bent to pick up her eggs. "Not at the moment," she said. "So, you're staying?" Jack did his best appealing look, and she shook her head in exasperation. "Come in. Tante is cooking breakfast. But you'll have to work for your lodging, Jack Sparrow."
He nodded, seriously. "Wouldn't think of anything else, love."
"And don't call me love."
"Anamaria."
"Anamaria." He smiled at her, and followed her into the hut.
Author's note: I'm looking for critical comments on two areas in this chapter: i) it's rather dialogue-heavy - too much so? ii) is my Spanish correct? Any thoughts/corrections welcomed! Thanks for the continued feedback and support.
----
Jack followed Menéndez into his cabin, accompanied by Carpenter who was looking, if possible, even paler than he had done a few minutes before. The Spaniard's cabin was positively Spartan, particularly when compared with Jack's aboard the Black Pearl.
Menéndez settled himself into a chair, and did not offer Jack one. Carpenter hung back by the door, fidgeting. After a moment, Jack pulled out a seat and sat down.
The two captains watched each other, silently, for a while. Menéndez's mouth twitched, as if he was holding something back, and finally he spoke.
"You are Jack Sparrow, then?"
Jack considered, briefly, denying it, but decided that trying to turn the situation to his advantage would be more useful. "Aye, I am."
"I had thought you would be older," Menéndez observed, leaning back in his chair.
"People tend to," Jack agreed, mildly.
"And I had not expected to find you aboard a merchant ship," the Spaniard went on. "Would you care to tell me why your ship is over there," he gestured, "and you are aboard my Lucia, pretending to be an ordinary pirate?"
Jack steepled his hands before his face. "It's not like I'd have chosen," he said. "Mutiny, it was."
"You let your crew take your ship?" Menéndez's eyes held mingled pity and scorn.
"I didn't let them take it," Jack said. "If y'r whole crew decides they want the ship, they'll have it. I might be Captain Jack Sparrow, but I can't fight twenty men and win."
"So they ... marooned you, and you escaped?" Menéndez asked. "And you set sail on that merchant?"
"'S'about it," Jack said. "Before you picked me up - and I'm very grateful to you, cap'n, for it."
There was another long silence. By the door, Carpenter shifted his feet. The candle flame in the lantern swinging from the ceiling flickered.
"We're in port," Menéndez said, eventually, speaking slowly. "This would be the ideal moment to put you off, Sparrow. Indeed you could rejoin your ship, if that is your wish."
"I don't want merely to rejoin my ship," Jack said, leaning forward. "I want my ship. The Black Pearl is mine. Savvy?"
"And the Lucia is mine," Menéndez returned. "Sabes?"
"Lucia, yours," agreed Jack, hands fluttering. "Of course."
"Mr Carpenter!" Menéndez said, looking up and at Carpenter.
"Aye, cap'n?"
"How long have you known this man?" The Spaniard indicated Jack.
Carpenter cleared his throat. "I ... well, dunno, rightly, cap'n. He joined the Pearl when just a lad, and sailed with her still when I went 'ome."
"How long was that?"
Glancing at Jack, Carpenter frowned. "Ten year?"
"Aye, something like that," Jack said.
"The lad had the uncanniest luck," Carpenter went on. "This one time ..."
Jack shot Carpenter a sharp look, and flashed Menéndez a glittering grin. "Cap'n Menéndez don't need to know that, Elias. Suffice to say, cap'n, I've had the good fortune to get out of the odd scrape."
"Not lucky enough to escape mutiny, though," Menénedez observed.
"No," Jack said, "perhaps not." He met Menéndez's eyes. "Look, mate. I want my Pearl back. I have no desires for your ship, lovely though she is. I can't go ashore and find men to help me take the old lady from that wretch Barbossa, 'cos he'll scarper before I get a chance to board. Now, if you'll loan me some lads, I'll nip over and win her back. Won't keep the men." He studied the Spaniard's face, which was impassive in the dim light. "Or," Jack went on, "you let me stay aboard the Lucia under your command, as James Swift, and I'll bide my time."
Menéndez pushed back his chair and stood up, crossing to a small barrel propped up in a corner and drawing himself a cup of wine. He drank deeply, standing by the stern windows, and then refilled the cup.
"There is a third choice," he said, turning back to Jack. "I could put you ashore now, tonight, Sparrow. With no men."
"Why would you do that?" Jack asked, trying to sound as if he had not thought of this option himself.
The captain came to sit down again, putting his cup down deliberately on the table. "You're a dangerous man to have around, Sparrow. There are, you know, stories about you. You're unpredictable. You're dishonest. You take unnecessary risks."
"I'm a pirate, Captain Menéndez," Jack said. "What else d'you expect? What are you, if not dishonest?"
"I would never risk the life of my crew without cause!" Menéndez returned, some ire entering into his voice. "And I do not see your black ship across the harbour as due cause. Además, you boarded my vessel under a false name and with false credentials. I would rather you left."
Jack leaned back, his mind whirring as he tried to think of something, anything, that would persuade this stiff, dry man to allow him to remain on board the Lucia. "You'll miss my blade," he said, eventually and rather desperately.
"Enough!" said Menéndez. "You will leave my ship, Captain Jack Sparrow. Any resistance and I'll send Mr Carpenter here with you."
"That's a low blow, Captain Menéndez," Jack remonstrated. "But there you have me. Aye, I'm a dishonest man. I'm a thief and a pirate, a scoundrel and a rogue, and I'm not sorry for it." He stood up, dramatically. "But I am honourable, and I'll not ruin another man with me. I'll leave your ship, and may luck go with you."
"Jack!" said Carpenter.
Jack turned, and put a hand on his old friend's shoulder. "Stay here, Elias. I don't know rightly what I'll do next, and there's no point both of us being bound to land. Thanks for getting me aboard - better than being headed for England on a merchant vessel, eh?" He swivelled on one foot, and gave Menéndez an elaborate bow. "Gracias," he said, before heading towards the door.
Carpenter stopped him. "You'll be all right, lad?" he asked, his voice filled with worry.
Smiling his widest, most charming smile, Jack nodded. "Of course. I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, savvy?"
He clapped Carpenter on the back in a friendly manner, tipped his hat to Menéndez, and left the cabin.
Half an hour later, having collected his belongings, Jack was standing on the shore, watching the single swinging lantern of the Lucia's skiff head back towards the ship. Over on the Black Pearl, a light shone in the captain's cabin, and Jack bitterly thought of Barbossa taking his ease there.
He tightened his swordbelt, straightened his hat, and with a final, longing look at his ship, turned from the water.
Avoiding the centre of Tortuga, Jack Sparrow slipped unerringly through the dark streets, heading out of town and up into the hills above. It had been years since he had walked this path, but his feet remembered it well enough, even in the dark.
It was only dawn when he reached his destination. The sun was just rising, colouring the palm-leaf roof of the small building a gentle rose-pink. In the cleared ground around it, a few goats were rousing themselves from a peaceful night's doze, and were beginning to crop the grass. As Jack turned on to the dusty path leading to the building, a rooster flapped out of a coop, perched on top of it, and welcomed the morning with a lusty crow.
Jack smiled, and settled down on the little bench outside the hut to wait for its occupants.
They were not too long in stirring. After only a short while, smoke curled out of the vent in the roof, and an appetising smell of something cooking drifted into the air. Jack's stomach rumbled. He could hear people moving inside the building, and shortly the door opened.
A slim figure emerged, stretched, and wandered over to the undergrowth two hundred yards or so distant. Jack took his hat off and tried ineffectually to straighten his clothes.
On the way back from the undergrowth, the figure paused to pat one of the goats on the head and then by the chicken coop, reaching in to look for eggs. Three were found, and holding them carefully, the figure turned to go back to the hut.
"Mornin', Ana," Jack said, standing up.
Anamaria started, and nearly dropped the eggs. "Cochon!" she exclaimed.
"Nice way t'greet an old friend," Jack said, mock-affronted.
His old friend and erstwhile crewmate put the eggs down, crossed to him, and gave him a resounding slap on the face before throwing her arms around him.
"I don't think," said Jack, returning the embrace, "I deserved that."
"They said you were dead!" Anamaria said, stepping back and examining him critically.
"Who said I was dead?" he asked.
"People. In Tortuga. I was there last night, and I heard you were dead and the Pearl was in the hands of that man Barbossa."
"The last's true enough," Jack said, regretfully.
"It was that gold," she said. "That cursed gold. Wasn't it?"
He nodded. "Men lust after gold, same as they lust after lasses. Pirates more so. You know that yourself, love; you're a pirate too."
Anamaria grunted, and bent to pick up her eggs. "Not at the moment," she said. "So, you're staying?" Jack did his best appealing look, and she shook her head in exasperation. "Come in. Tante is cooking breakfast. But you'll have to work for your lodging, Jack Sparrow."
He nodded, seriously. "Wouldn't think of anything else, love."
"And don't call me love."
"Anamaria."
"Anamaria." He smiled at her, and followed her into the hut.