AN: Will you look at that?? TWO chapters in ONE day!!! And it's not even
9:00 in the morning yet!! Whoopee!! You have Josh to thank for this
chapter, kiddies. For my Secret Santa present he got me a big ol' PotC
movie poster. It was the last one in all of Great Northern Mall, and it
was actually taken off the window display. ^.^ It makes me happy. And
that's why I've been in such a pirate-y mood today.
This one is rather long. And I'm proud of it. It's in a different style than the rest of the fic. Enjoy.
Oh. And also, I put in references to three of the best pirate movies of all time - The Seahawk, Captain Blood, and my favorite, the Black Swan. If you can spot them, I'll give you a cookie. Except for my brother, Kaven. If he DOESN'T spot them he should be shot. (And asking him is cheating, for those of you that know him.)
Disclaimer - Same as the Prologue. Just click the back button and save yourself the trouble of suing me.
--------------------------------------------
Chapter 10 - Will's Tale
Once the four men were seated around Gibbs' kitchen table, mugs of cool spiced rum in their hands, it wasn't long before the questions stared coming. First, Gibbs had to be told what was going on, and why Will needed a crew. Then Jack asked the question they all were itching to know.
"So, 'Bonny' Will . . . How ever did you end up with that crew of scalawags? Where are Jaime and the others?"
"Jaime?" Tiger asked.
"Jamison Cart was my first mate. Is. Is still my first mate." Will said. He looked around, taking in Gibbs' confused look, Tiger's skeptical gaze and Jack's raised eyebrow. He sighed.
"I suppose I should start from the beginning." And Will began his tale.
* * *
For the last eight years or so, I've been sailing the pirate waters in the Indian Ocean. I just had to get away from Jamaica, I guess. The waters there are full of ancient mysteries, older and more powerful than even the Aztecs were. Indians. Natives. African tribes who have been set in their traditions since hundreds of years before England was conceived. I loved it. It was so liberating to be away from England's influence, at least in part.
My home port was a pirating community based in Madagascar. I and six or eight other pirate captains of all nationalities came and went as we pleased. The town was very similar to St. Andrews' - basically cut off from the civilized world, relying on pirate news, pirate business, and pirate trade to stay healthy. It was also a safe haven for escaped slaves, convicts and outcasts of all types. Of course, such an . . . interesting population eventually would attract the attention of one world power or the other. Just my luck, the first country to discover it was England.
I had recently been in a bad gunfight with a French captain who was under the impression that I had insulted his mistress. Me? Insult a WOMEN? I'd have to have gone daft. But he had been drunk and his mistress was a scheming . . . ah, well, that's the French for you. The Bluehawk had a pretty big hole in 'er, just above the waterline. I could sail, but it was only a matter of time before a storm or rough waters filled her up. Lucky, I was close to port, and put in for repairs.
While I was beached anyway, I decided to do some recruiting. In the last battle I had lost seven of my best crewmen, including Jeremy, my navigator. I found men to replace the others, but there didn't seem to be a single navigator on the whole bloomin' island. I was about to give up when a fellow approached me about the job. He said his name was John, and he was a runaway from the King's navy with several years' experience as a navigator. I did some poking around, but his story checked with every source I could find. He even had lashmarks on his back from when they caught him drinking at his post. I could see no reason for him So I signed him on and we set off as soon as the Bluehawk was seaworthy.
I am still not sure how he did it. But somehow, at the next town we raided, a Portuguese settlement on the African coast, two English ships lay in wait. While we engaged one ship in combat, the crew of the other sneaked aboard the Bluehawk and captured first the back watch, then Jaime and my second mate Peter, then me. With all of the authority on the ship captured, the crew surrendered. That's when I found out that John was an English spy, but I still don't know how he sent them word of our destination. Homing pigeon, I guess. I have to say I respected him. He took the beating and played a very dangerous gamble for his country, and he won. I and my crew were headed to England to be hanged, and the Bluehawk was to be repainted and sold as a merchant vessel.
I was resigned to my fate. After all, I should have been hanged for treason and piracy years ago. I was sorry for the six innocent new crew members, though. I felt like I had killed them by hiring. But Jaime reminded me that they were pirates too, and they had accepted the risks when they became such. He was right, of course. During the three-month trip back to England, Jaime and Peter kept me sane.
In England we were tried, and of course found guilty. The whole crew - some thirty-odd men - were sentenced to death by hanging. We were thrown in a jail to await the mass hanging at dawn. But we never saw it.
Around midnight the jailkeeper brought us out in twos and threes and locked us in prison wagons. We were driven for the better part of an hour over a moor to a large, stately home. Once there, we were unloaded and the men were thrown in cells. Jaime and I were brought up to a drawing room and presented before a noble of the English court.
It turns out that this noble had bought both our lives and the Bluehawk. He told me he had singled me out because I was a living legend, perfect for his purposes. And then he told me the deal.
I was to take the Bluehawk and a crew that he would supply me with and raid a little English town called St. Andrews. Of course, I immediately refused. I had planned on never setting foot on St. Andrews' again. But that was when the noble informed me that Elizabeth had died of consumption years ago. I was so shocked that I could do nothing but listen.
During the raid I was to burn, rape, loot, or pillage whatever I wished. I could even keep a captain's share of the spoils - he wasn't interested in riches. However, I was to leave the governor unharmed and steal away his three daughters. I had three months to get there, do the deed, and get back to England. Once I returned to England, I would be able to trade each daughter for one-third of my crew. But if I was late in returning, he would torture and kill one of my crew members for every week extra. And the way he described the things he would do left me with no doubts about his sincerity. The man is sick. Demented, twisted, and very, very sick.
But what choice did I have? If I refused, Jaime would have been shot on the spot. So I decided to go with it for the time being and deal with the consequences once I had an idea of what I was up against. And I did. And now I'm here. And I have exactly forty-one days to get back to England and do something before Jaime is tortured to death.
----------------------------------
No new reviews, because I only posted the last chapter an hour and a half ago. But keep reviewing, because I WILL answer you!!!
This one is rather long. And I'm proud of it. It's in a different style than the rest of the fic. Enjoy.
Oh. And also, I put in references to three of the best pirate movies of all time - The Seahawk, Captain Blood, and my favorite, the Black Swan. If you can spot them, I'll give you a cookie. Except for my brother, Kaven. If he DOESN'T spot them he should be shot. (And asking him is cheating, for those of you that know him.)
Disclaimer - Same as the Prologue. Just click the back button and save yourself the trouble of suing me.
--------------------------------------------
Chapter 10 - Will's Tale
Once the four men were seated around Gibbs' kitchen table, mugs of cool spiced rum in their hands, it wasn't long before the questions stared coming. First, Gibbs had to be told what was going on, and why Will needed a crew. Then Jack asked the question they all were itching to know.
"So, 'Bonny' Will . . . How ever did you end up with that crew of scalawags? Where are Jaime and the others?"
"Jaime?" Tiger asked.
"Jamison Cart was my first mate. Is. Is still my first mate." Will said. He looked around, taking in Gibbs' confused look, Tiger's skeptical gaze and Jack's raised eyebrow. He sighed.
"I suppose I should start from the beginning." And Will began his tale.
* * *
For the last eight years or so, I've been sailing the pirate waters in the Indian Ocean. I just had to get away from Jamaica, I guess. The waters there are full of ancient mysteries, older and more powerful than even the Aztecs were. Indians. Natives. African tribes who have been set in their traditions since hundreds of years before England was conceived. I loved it. It was so liberating to be away from England's influence, at least in part.
My home port was a pirating community based in Madagascar. I and six or eight other pirate captains of all nationalities came and went as we pleased. The town was very similar to St. Andrews' - basically cut off from the civilized world, relying on pirate news, pirate business, and pirate trade to stay healthy. It was also a safe haven for escaped slaves, convicts and outcasts of all types. Of course, such an . . . interesting population eventually would attract the attention of one world power or the other. Just my luck, the first country to discover it was England.
I had recently been in a bad gunfight with a French captain who was under the impression that I had insulted his mistress. Me? Insult a WOMEN? I'd have to have gone daft. But he had been drunk and his mistress was a scheming . . . ah, well, that's the French for you. The Bluehawk had a pretty big hole in 'er, just above the waterline. I could sail, but it was only a matter of time before a storm or rough waters filled her up. Lucky, I was close to port, and put in for repairs.
While I was beached anyway, I decided to do some recruiting. In the last battle I had lost seven of my best crewmen, including Jeremy, my navigator. I found men to replace the others, but there didn't seem to be a single navigator on the whole bloomin' island. I was about to give up when a fellow approached me about the job. He said his name was John, and he was a runaway from the King's navy with several years' experience as a navigator. I did some poking around, but his story checked with every source I could find. He even had lashmarks on his back from when they caught him drinking at his post. I could see no reason for him So I signed him on and we set off as soon as the Bluehawk was seaworthy.
I am still not sure how he did it. But somehow, at the next town we raided, a Portuguese settlement on the African coast, two English ships lay in wait. While we engaged one ship in combat, the crew of the other sneaked aboard the Bluehawk and captured first the back watch, then Jaime and my second mate Peter, then me. With all of the authority on the ship captured, the crew surrendered. That's when I found out that John was an English spy, but I still don't know how he sent them word of our destination. Homing pigeon, I guess. I have to say I respected him. He took the beating and played a very dangerous gamble for his country, and he won. I and my crew were headed to England to be hanged, and the Bluehawk was to be repainted and sold as a merchant vessel.
I was resigned to my fate. After all, I should have been hanged for treason and piracy years ago. I was sorry for the six innocent new crew members, though. I felt like I had killed them by hiring. But Jaime reminded me that they were pirates too, and they had accepted the risks when they became such. He was right, of course. During the three-month trip back to England, Jaime and Peter kept me sane.
In England we were tried, and of course found guilty. The whole crew - some thirty-odd men - were sentenced to death by hanging. We were thrown in a jail to await the mass hanging at dawn. But we never saw it.
Around midnight the jailkeeper brought us out in twos and threes and locked us in prison wagons. We were driven for the better part of an hour over a moor to a large, stately home. Once there, we were unloaded and the men were thrown in cells. Jaime and I were brought up to a drawing room and presented before a noble of the English court.
It turns out that this noble had bought both our lives and the Bluehawk. He told me he had singled me out because I was a living legend, perfect for his purposes. And then he told me the deal.
I was to take the Bluehawk and a crew that he would supply me with and raid a little English town called St. Andrews. Of course, I immediately refused. I had planned on never setting foot on St. Andrews' again. But that was when the noble informed me that Elizabeth had died of consumption years ago. I was so shocked that I could do nothing but listen.
During the raid I was to burn, rape, loot, or pillage whatever I wished. I could even keep a captain's share of the spoils - he wasn't interested in riches. However, I was to leave the governor unharmed and steal away his three daughters. I had three months to get there, do the deed, and get back to England. Once I returned to England, I would be able to trade each daughter for one-third of my crew. But if I was late in returning, he would torture and kill one of my crew members for every week extra. And the way he described the things he would do left me with no doubts about his sincerity. The man is sick. Demented, twisted, and very, very sick.
But what choice did I have? If I refused, Jaime would have been shot on the spot. So I decided to go with it for the time being and deal with the consequences once I had an idea of what I was up against. And I did. And now I'm here. And I have exactly forty-one days to get back to England and do something before Jaime is tortured to death.
----------------------------------
No new reviews, because I only posted the last chapter an hour and a half ago. But keep reviewing, because I WILL answer you!!!