Chapter IV-
"Wooing Your Lady"

The room was dimly lit by lanterns. It was so dim, in fact, that Jack had to slightly squint to see properly. As he inhaled, perfumes that smelt strongly of horse feed, dust and fire wafted about his nose. It was warm in the room and, compared to the chill outside, it was quite cozy.

The ground was a dirt floor strewn with hay in an attempt to keep the dust down and things cleaner. A large furnace burned opposite to the door that Jack had just entered and a little to the right of the door there was a donkey who was tied up with a harness and was used to turn a big axle that pumped the billows for heating the furnace. To the left of the door, there was an old cart with two wheels in its very middle. The door was set on a cement step that was about 2 ½ higher than the forge's ground and the cart was propped up against this giant step on one side, setting it at a slant, like a ramp. The roof was made to be airy. If it rained, the person inside wouldn't have much cover. This was probably to let smoke and heat out easily, guessing from the large furnace.

All over the shop there were candles and tools- wrenches, pliers, grips, vices, nails, hammers (some nice big ones and lots of them too), anvils, a grindstone....

'This must be the blacksmiths forge. How perfect is that?! This place probably has all the proper tools that I need to get these bloody manacles off my wrists!' He set his hat on the furnace's brick threshold and began to look around. He selected the hammer of his choice and made for the anvil where the blacksmith seemed to do most of his work.

Clink. The sound of a glass bottle hitting the ground broke the silence and the sound of gentle snoring made Jack freeze in his tracks. Someone else was there.

He slowly turned toward the snoring. In the corner a pudgy man with a leather apron and dirty commoners clothing lay slumped in his chair. His face was greasy, had a little bit of dirt here and there, and he looked a bit wrinkly. He had thick, dirty-dirty-dirty-filthy blond (in fact I'd say it was more light brown), furry sideburns and was balding at the top of his fuzzy head. Hopefully he was drunk, because he smelt drunk.

Jack noiselessly tiptoed up to the man and peered at him closely. Looked drunk. He poked him harshly in the chest. The man just sputtered and continued to snore, this time a bit more noisily. Sounded drunk.... After waiting for a few seconds Jack gave a shrug and began to walk away.

"WHOA!" he thundered, spinning around and facing the drunk once again.

Nothing. 'Okay.'

He took the hammer in his hand and laid the chain on the anvil, pulling it tight between his wrists. He attempted to strike the chain with enough force to break it into two (which is hard enough without heating first) while still trying to keep his wrists at the lengthy distance of a foot and a half apart, holding the chain tight. He snapped his wrist forward and tried to hit the chain. It slackened and he altogether missed it in first place. He tried again. Same deal. He tried throwing his arm at a really fast speed. Same result. He rapidly tried to pin the chain with out moving anything but his right hand (which held the hammer). Finally he gave up, threw the hammer down and shook the chains ferociously, snapping and pulling them tight like a two-year-old child in a mad fit.

The donkey in the corner gave a snort- probably laughing at what an ass Jack was making of himself- and Jack looked up at the beast. He looked at the harness. It was attached to a pole planted vertically into the ground that was roughly the height of a very large man and the width of a fairly average palm tree.

His eyes darted up the "palm tree" and saw that it had a large gear about three feet in diameter secured atop it. Another gear the exact same size stood perpendicular to the first gear and, if turned, it turned the other gear with it like the works of a giant clock. The second gear also had a "palm tree" secured to it, only this one was horizontal. The pole was connected to a turny-levery-crank thing that was attached to a small, wooden wheel that made the billows pump the furnace.

Now, why am I telling you this? Well, believe it or not, amongst all of this "advanced" machinery Jack had an idea sprung in his head.

He pulled out of the fire a metal tool that had been sitting in the red coals for some time now and was thrilled to find it was a metal stoke with a brilliantly red-glowing tip. He sauntered over to the donkey and, taking one last close-up look at the hook, touched the curved side to the donkey's rump.

There was a sizzle and the donkey let out a high-pitched squeal. The aroma of burnt hair was added to the atmosphere and the donkey began to walk in circles (as the harness prevented it from walking in another way), attempting to escape the possibility of another butt-burn.

The "palm tree" began to turn, so did the gear at its top. Then the first gear turned the second gear, pumping the bellows with the loud clank, clank, clank, clanketty, clanketty, clank, clank, clanketty, clank, clank, clank, clank, clank of the gears and poles and wheels turning and the occasional fwoosh of the fire receiving the air of the bellows joyously.

Jack tossed the hook onto the ground and grabbed his chain. He looped the chain over the tooth of the first gear and pulled down strongly as it edged closer to meet with the other gear. There was a horrible grinding as the two colliding gears were brought to a halt by the disrupting chain. They squeezed and jerked violently when they finally snapped the chain in two, and continued to turn on their clanky way.

Yes! Now that his hands could move separately Jack could work on breaking off the manacles one wrist at a time.

However, he didn't have time to even start looking. He jumped as the latch on the forge's door moved with a loud, ominous clack. Someone was coming in, and this time he probably wouldn't be an old, ugly, dirty man that acted, looked and smelt like he was dead drunk. He dove for cover just as a tall young man dressed in brown stepped into the now noisy shop. Jack peered at him before vanishing- he most definitely did not look drunk.

It was Will, but, of course, Jack did not know this. He had just come from attempting to help the guards find a pirate that apparently had threatened Miss Swann with death by shooting ... or chain. He, however, knew nothing of the pirate, and the commodore did not wish to have the black smith in his way. So, Will (after much argument and protesting) made his way back to the quiet of his forge.

He locked the door, quickly looking over his shoulder with a confused look on his face as he did. What was going on here? He jumped off the small ledge and reached out and grabbed the donkey's harness. He pulled it to a stop and calmed it in no time by gently petting its muzzle. He looked up and scanned the forge suspiciously as he rose to his feet, searching for an explanation to the spooking of his donkey.

He conclusively decided that it heard a noise outside, but still gave one of the dark corners he last looked at an equivocal glance as he stripped his jacket and dropped it on a barrel that was used as a small table. He went to check on his master, Mr. Brown. He smiled to himself as he discovered that he was slumped in his favorite corner in his favorite unconscious position with an empty bottle of his favorite drink at his feet.

"Right where I left you," Will half-chuckled. He began to unbutton the upper half of the worn-out vest he wore. It was time to get to work. He walked toward his anvil to pick up his apron. He frowned when he got there.

"Not where I left you." Why was his hammer lying on his anvil? He quickly finished unbuttoning his vest down to the bottom of his sternum, revealing a loose, white shirt with a wide collar underneath, and reached for his hammer, a bemused expression fixed upon hi face.

He jerked his head sharply to his right when he thought he saw something out of the corner of his eye. Surely enough, there it was as he thought he saw: a leather three-cornered hat lying on the furnace.

'That's not my hat ... and Mr. Brown doesn't have one like that either.... How did it get there?' Perhaps someone stopped by while he was gone? He reached out to grab the hat. What if there was a name or something on it that would lead him to the owner?

A sword laid flat slapped the back of Will's hand lightly before his fingertips could touch the hat. Will jumped a bit inside and looked quickly up at the owner only to have any surprise inside him be replaced with dire hatred. For the young blacksmith came face to face with the one thing responsible for his near-death experience he had as a lad: a pirate. A no good, grimy, black-hearted scallywag of a pirate, too, by the looks of it. Of course, most pirates were like that.

He looked the pirate over from head to foot as he slowly backed away, dropping his hand to his side. Jack looked Will up and down too, but not for the same reason.

"You're the one they're hunting," Will slowly realized aloud. "The pirate."

Jack continued to look at Will with an eyebrow raised and an expression engraved into his face that suggested he couldn't remember something. "You seem somewhat familiar. Have I threatened you before?" finally he spoke, rather quickly.

Will glared back. "I make a point of avoiding familiarity with pirates."

"Ah! Well, then it would be a shame to put a black mark on your record," Jack spun around on his heel and made for the back door, apparently satisfied, "So, if you'll excuse me –"

Will turned, grabbing a sword off a nearby rack and pointed it toward the area between Jack's shoulder blades in an en garde position. He didn't get it. This is what Will meant by he avoided familiarity - a pirate never lived to threaten him again.

Jack stopped and cursed the youth. Another delay. He turned around slowly, with a small smile on his face, hiding his true feelings about the situation- he felt too tired and lazy to fight right now. But the boy was highly confident and obviously uneducated in the nature of pirates if he wasn't even the least bit frightened to challenge him. He smiled a little broader as he spoke, "Do you think this wise, boy,... crossing blades with a pirate?"

"You threatened Miss Swann," Will replied simply with an unwavering glower and holding his sword up a little closer to Jack's head.

Jack looked at the highly polished edge that the boy held under his chin and responded by laying his blade next to it and running it down and then up Will's blade again. He then stood with his sword and feet placed in a ready position for fighting, but his opposite arm lying loosely at his side. "Only a little," he whispered with a small, reassuring grin spread across his face.

He swung swiftly twice at Will, who reacted quickly and blocked both even faster. That didn't worry Jack, they were simple moves used just for testing reflexes. He slashed and cut six more times at Will, backing the young blacksmith until he almost reached the front door of the forge. But, to Jack's surprise, Will backed him off by slicing through the air artistically twice, reaching for Jack's face and causing Jack to have to lean back and avoid the attack.

Jack, in fact, even stepped away and Will rebrandished his sword with a devilish smirk. That was all too easy for him! He attacked Jack six times back with expertly executed moves and speedily backed Jack to where they had begun.

Will threw a final stab which Jack blocked by a couple of inches. It then occurred to Jack that this boy was no ordinary landlubber. He needed to get out of there and stop playing before he got himself into a bind that would lead him to the prison and eventually the gallows.

He pushed Will's sword aside in a lazy fashion, but peered at him with curiosity. "You know what you're doing, I'll give you that. Excellent form... but how's your footwork?"

Will raised his head a little with slight surprise at the remark. He was toying with the pirate, going easy on him, but it appeared as if the pirate was toying with him too. At first it made Will angry that he wasn't to be taken seriously, but then his thoughts changed. He would continue to play. Then the pirate would be horribly surprised when he lost to a young blacksmith of Port Royal, and Norrington would see the error of his ways. He'd show all of them....

"First step here...," Jack continued in an instructing tone as the two stepped carefully together, circling together like two wild animals ready to fight, and they cut and slashed three times. "Very good. And then I step again. And so we circle … circle, like dogs we circle." This time the circling was taken to a bit of a run as Jack ran around Will, blocking his blows, slicing back quicker than ever and trying anxiously to get Will to cross his legs and, hopefully, trip and fall.

Unfortunately, Will did not cross his legs and he did not fall and Jack moved until the door of the forge was at his back. He gave a finally cut with a stomp from his front foot and lurch from his back- as if he were lunging. Then, to Will's surprise, the pirate sheathed his sword with a bit of a nod, a grin and a friendly, "Ta!" as he excused himself and nonchalantly made for the door.

Will paused for a second. Ta? Was he joking? He couldn't just walk out of a fight like that. Will watched as Jack climbed the small ledge in front of the door and reached for the handle. He wasn't joking. Well, he wasn't leaving either, not if Will could help it. His arm moved in a flash, back then forward as he threw his sword at Jack, which flew over Jack's left shoulder and buried itself deep in the planks of the door.

Jack turned and stared, wide-eyed, at the sword sticking out of the door as it still quivered from its plantation. He slowly looked at Will and back at the sword again. This kid couldn't be real- not even he, the Captain Jack Sparrow, the best pirate in the Caribbean, in fact, in the whole world (of course, this is Jack's ego speaking), could do that and he certainly had a lot more experience.

He swallowed and grabbed the sword's handle, bringing its shaking to an abrupt stop. Then, after repositioning his grip, he gave the sword a good heave upward. It didn't budge. In fact, the door just shook upward with it. He repositioned his footing to get a firmer base and heaved harder. Still it refused to be moved. He shook it up and down, jumping to add force frantically over and over and over and it still did not move.

He threw his hands down, stared at the sword with pure hatred, cursed it and its thrower under his breath, and then spun around and smiled at Will sweetly, who had been watching the whole time quite amused.

"That is a wonderful trick!" Jack practically taunted as he used the cart to walk back down to Will. "Except once again you are between me and my way out. And now," he redrew his sword with a grin, "you have no weapon."

Will's response? Well, he had calmly cautiously glancing over his shoulder the whole time Jack spoke, then, when Jack stopped talking, he simply turned around and pulled a new sword out of the furnace. Jack's confidence and smile evaporated when he saw that it's end glowed red with fresh heat- just like the determination in Will's eyes. The donkey gave another squeal and began turning the wheel anew from fear of being burnt again.

Will attacked Jack and sparks flew from his blade every time their blade connected. Jack used little tricks like hiding behind a pole, popping around it as Will thrust and then whacking Will's butt with the flat side of his sword before the blacksmith could turn around.

They cut, thrust, slashed and clanged until Jack managed to disarm Will by swinging the chain that still hung about his wrist at his sword and whacking it away. He grinned at getting rid of his opponents weapon and lunged for an attack. Will ran and jumped over the spinning wheel his donkey turned, somersaulting and running to another pole for cover. Jack pursued him as Will pulled a sword from a rack that was wrapped around the pole and blocked Jack's attack. Jack was surprised at this move. He looked and saw that there were some twenty swords on that rack and, attacking Will again, he saw that there were several racks about the forge with swords on them. There had to be a hundred swords in there- possibly more! He swung at Will, who blocked once again.

"Who makes all these?!" he asked, quite astounded at the new sight.

"I do!" Will replied and slashed at Jack who blocked. " And I practice with them" he swung again and pulled around the other side of the pole as jack threw a sledge hammer at his head, "three hours a day!" He swung once more then thrust for Jack.

Jack dodged the thrust and moved to the other side of the pole. "You need to find yourself a girl, mate!" he joked.

Will became angered by this remark and jumped for Jack. Jack ran away from the pole and grabbed a hammer in his other hand as Will's sword smacked the pole where Jack's head was. Will grabbed another sword and blocked an attack by Jack with his swords in a cross formation overhead. They pushed on their weapons.

Then Jack spoke, continuing their conversation. "Or, perhaps the reason you practice three hours a day is that you already found one and are otherwise incapable of wooing said strumpet.... You're not a eunuch, are you?" He made a disgusted face and couldn't help but look down.

Will became infuriated. Even if it was just a lucky guess, the fact that Jack could just pull out Will's problems and lay them out in front of them a few seconds after their introductions to each other was provoking. And he was insulted at the same time- he was most definitely not a eunuch and how dare he label Elizabeth with a title such as "strumpet." But above all of that rubbish, how did he guess his problem with his emotions for Elizabeth so perfectly? It was disturbing.

The rage shone like a mad blaze in Will's eyes and Jack felt himself beginning to shrink back.

"I practice three hours a day, so that when I meet a pirate, I can kill it!" Will spat and he threw all his weight upon his swords and shoved Jack backwards. But Jack grinned. He had found a weak spot.

Jack backed onto the cart and climbed up to the edged that was raised. Will followed and as soon as he set foot on the cart, the wooden chalk that held the cart in place snapped in two from the men's weight. The cart lurch forward and the raised end slipped off the ledge that it was propped up on, causing it to wobble as it crept slowly forward and the men had to balance each other out on the moving teeter-toter.

After a series of beats Will got Jack to drop the hammer and swung for his contender. Jack used the chain that was still on his wrist again. He swung it and wrapped it around Will's sword and attempted to yank the sword from Will's hand. However, Will was once again far too quick. He twisted the point of his sword through a link of the chain and stabbed it up into a banister above, leaving Jack almost hanging by his manacled wrist. He then raised his sword and swung for Jack's neck to end his foe.

Jack swung his sword madly causing Will to have to back to the edge of the cart, then Jack stomped hard on the cart with his right foot. A loose board sprung up and cracked Will beneath the jaw, sending the young swords master backwards to land on the hard floor with a thud.

Jack pulled and tugged down upon his chain, but the sword refused to budge. 'No! Not again, not now!' Jack thought as he looked down to see Will get up from his blow completely a-okay and with an ominous smile glowing on his face. He tugged harder. This was a cheap and stupid trick.

Will began to reapproach Jack and Jack began to feel an emotion that he had not felt in a very long time: panic. This kid had him! This ruddy schweg-bellied rat had caught him and was going to kill him, right here, right now! No! He couldn't die, not yet! He had to get out of here! He needed help! He placed his feet up on the beam where the sword had stuck and, using them as extra force, began pulling on the sword as hard as he could. Jack tugged and tugged and finally the sword came free. 'Uh-oh,' he thought. He fell and slammed hard onto the cart underneath him just as Will stepped on the other side, causing the cart to act as a catapult and shoot Will into the rafters.

Jack rolled head over heels and bumped his noggin against the wall behind him. His hand fell upon the hilt of his sword. Grabbing it, he shook his head and jumped to his feet, climbed onto his side of the cart (which was now the lower side) and looked about him. Why- where was that kid anyway? Did he run into the shadows? He scanned the room and started to panic when he couldn't find his opponent. He looked up and he smiled as he finally discovered him, hiding like a child in the rafters. Will smiled back when Jack spotted him and raised his sword.

Will slashed his sword and cut a rope that held a large net full of heavy objects hoisted in the air.

Jack's smile vanished as he realized two things too late. One: Will wasn't hiding; two: he might try to catapult him into the rafters too. And he was right. The big load fell on the opposite end of the cart, hurling Jack high up into the air. Jack caught a beam just as he was going to begin his trip down. The wind was knocked out of him as the beam banged harshly against his chest.

'That bloated infernal cur!' he thought as he struggled with pulling himself up and jumped onto a nearby beam, facing Will, who was staring knives at him. Jack wasn't going to get away that easily.

The beam that Jack was standing on laid perpendicular to two parallel beams that were about four feet or so apart. Jack was practically on the one on his right, Will was standing on the one to Jack's left. Will glowered as he jumped and landed on the beam that Jack was standing on, intending to be able to meet up with him and fight him back down. But Will's plan was thwarted as Jack jumped on Will's beam at the same time, intending to do the exact same thing. They quickly realized they were still on opposite beams and accidently switched beams again. They almost did it a third time, except Will stopped himself from jumping and Jack hopped back onto Will's beam before he changed his mind. Jack gave a toothy smile as he rocked back and forth, attempting to keep his balance.

His grin was erased once again, however, as Will returned it with a not-so-friendly grin and moved in for another attack. They cut five times in broken phases, as they were both rocking back and forth a bit, attempting to stay balanced and crouching down, trying not to bump their heads on the low ceiling. Will moved to another lower beam and Jack followed and blocked as Will swung again. This kid could go at it. Jack was already beginning to slow down and Jack was only just beginning to see the sweat break on Will. It was ridiculous!

'This kid is fast.' They cut five more times- this time very rapidly and all in one moment- when Will threw a sixth quick but unbelievably powerful blow that sent Jack's sword sailing out of his hand and over his shoulder behind him. 'Really fast.' He felt helpless.

Will gave a triumphant smile with a breathless laugh and brandished his sword again. He was breathing hard and sweat was shining on his face and chest but now he had the villain, and he wasn't going to let a surrender be the cause of him passing his opportunity by. He was a pirate, and pirates were always better dead. Jack chuckled a bit nervously and then turned to make a run for it. He dropped off the end of the beam and held on with his fingertips for a second, readying to let go, then landed on the furnace's threshold below. When he looked up, however, and Will was already standing there with his sword leveled at him.... He had run in the opposite direction, flipped gracefully over the beam and landed while Jack was still hanging for that split second.

Jack was scared. He looked frantically around for a weapon or some sort of defense when his eye fell on a gunnysack full of a light brown dirt right beside the bellows. Will was feeling very successful a few seconds ago, but now he saw what Jack was looking at and ran to stop him. The bag was used as a counterweight, without it the furnace would break after so long of running. Unfortunately for Will, Jack dumped the contents out in front of the bellows as it began to compress and Will was showered in a cloud of dirt. Jack effortlessly kicked Will's sword from his hand, then jumped down to level ground.

Will stumbled back, covering his eyes, choking and coughing. He bumped against the furnace's threshold and his hand began to search for another sword or something that he could use to throw Jack off for a while. His fingers found their way to some pliers just as the dirt began to settle. He picked the pliers up, raised the tool to hit Jack and then came to a sudden stop.... Jack's pistol was aimed right between Will's eyes. What was going on?

Will gave Jack a questioning look. "You cheated."

"Pirate!" Jack reminded the boy.

The front door suddenly rattled as the guards attempted to break in. Jack had to leave. Now.

He made to pass Will and go for the door just behind him, but Will purposely blocked his path. Jack motioned him to step aside, "Move away!"

"No," Will muttered.

"Please, move?" Jack pleaded with a nod of his head to emphasize the word 'please.'

"No! I cannot just step aside and let you escape," Will whispered back as he cast a nervous glance at the door.

The door began to break as it was hit with a hard force. That was it. Jack cocked his pistol. Will still did not move. Blast this kid, he must have been insane or something! Didn't he care about dying? Jack couldn't shoot him, he couldn't afford to lose this shot. "This shot is not meant for you," he growled.

Will froze for a moment with eyes filled with curiosity. What did he mean by that?

Jack took a deep breath and made to pull the trigger. He did not want to do this. Some glass object suddenly shattered on the back of Jack's head. Jack's eye's went unfocused, and then, dropping the pistol, he fell to the floor to reveal little Mr. Brown (who was too short to be seen by Will, standing behind Jack the way he was) just as the front door came down and armed soldiers rushed into the room.

The donkey froze with surprise as the soldiers ran past it and surrounded Jack, Will and Mr. Brown, who was clutching what appeared to be the neck of a broken rum bottle in his tiny hands. Commodore Norrington pushed through the front of the group. He took a quick look at Jack and grinned. "Excellent work, Mr. Brown. You've just assisted in the capture of a dangerous fugitive."

"Just doing my civic duty, sir," the little man replied in his croaky voice that reminded Will very much of a frog or toad as Mr. Brown looked up at the tall Naval Commander.

Will sighed. Well, guess that meant that Mr. Brown would receive credit for his work for the second time that day and by Governor Swann and Commodore Norrington, the two most important men in Port Royal- a new record! And yet, he wasn't all that surprised. It was too much of a daily routine to have him be at all surprised. He was, however, exhausted and the dirt that Jack had sprayed him with was starting to cake on him thanks to the sweat he had built up during the fight. He fought that whole time only to be overshadowed again. 'Oh well. C'est la vie.'

"Well, I trust you'll always remember this as the day that Captain Jack Sparrow almost escaped," Norrington jeered with silent delight. "Take him away." He smiled to himself. No pirate ever escaped from James Norrington- especially one who threatened Elizabeth.

Mr. Brown sadly gazed down at the broken pieces that remained of his beloved drink. "That rotter broke my bottle,"he mourned softly.

Darkness crept over the town as the sun sank below the horizon in a brilliant sunset of gold and red. Then the stars began to come out and night came. The moon rose and spread its silver hue only barely, as it was hidden behind a large cloud. A thick fog had gathered about the harbor and it became quite chilly for a night in Jamaica. Everything was silent. Even the big black ship that began to make its way into the harbor.