Usual disclaimers... ho-hum!
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Catherine found herself thrown into a wagon, a barred door shutting with a clang. Briefly she tested her bonds, but the ropes were securely tied. Dejectedly she lay there, bouncing as the wagon rumbled across the cobbled streets, wondering where Jack was and afraid that he had been caught - how else could the soldiers have found her. She shook her head - no, Jack would not have told them where she was, she knew that... so what had happened?
She tensed as the wagon lurched to a halt, rolling to the front of the cage with the motion. Rough hands dragged her, feet first from the cage, catching her before her head hit the ground. "Easy does it Joe," a voice echoed, laughing as she found herself helped upright. "Don't want to damage the goods yet, do we?"
"Well, we can have some fun later," the one she assumed was Joe chuckled. She struggled as he roughly squeezed her breasts. "Eh darling," he chuckled, "lots of fun in the dark cells..."
She tried to kick out, but found only air, her captors' chuckles mocking her efforts as they forced her down some steps. A heavy lock sounded and she found herself thrown to the floor, her head hitting the dusty dirt floor with a thud. She lay there, groaning, listening to the door shut, the heavy clang of the key turning.
For hours she lay there, listening to the sounds of the jail, the clanks, the echoes, the pleas of those incarcerated with her. Guards patrolled past her door, their ponderous tread heavy on the stone floor. She strained to hear their conversation, catching the word pirate. "Yeah, caught him without even a fight," he laughed. "Just kept asking about his wife..."
A sob caught in her throat. She would have cried out but the gag stifled her cries. For a moment she prayed she had misheard.
"Yeah," the voice came again. "Strange that! Seems a long way to come to hang though!"
No... it could be no other. Her heart sank and she lay there in the darkness, crying without care as to who could hear her. The unthinkable had happened - they had caught Jack.
###
"Thank you gentlemen," Stephen Waike smiled, handing a bag of money to each. "Are you sure she heard?"
"She heard alright the way she was crying," the Sergeant laughed, secreting his money safely within his jacket. "Pleasure doing business with you again Mister Waike..." He paused. "I was sorry to hear about your father..."
"We'll catch Sparrow soon enough,," he replied sadly, whilst secretly thinking himself glad to be free of his father's restraints. The Waike fortune was now his - as was the large family home - and he had every intention of availing himself of it at the first opportunity.
"There was a trail of blood," the one called Joe offered. "But it disappeared down near the inn..." He shrugged apologetically.
"We hold the one thing he cares about," Stephen smiled. "He won't go far and then he will pay for my father's murder and hang like the scum he is!"
"Until the morning then..." the Sergeant nodded.
"I will be there," Stephen acknowledged, delighting in the thought of breaking the woman that had so defied him before.
###
Eventually the door to her cell opened. Dimly Catherine could hear the sound of birdsong, wondering briefly if it was dawn. She tensed, hearing voices - one of which she recognised. The sack was removed from her head and she blinked, squinting to see in the suddenly bright light.
"That is her," Stephen Waike said. "Thank you Sergeant." The man nodded and two guards hauled her to her somewhat unsteady feet as they removed her gag.
"Where's Jack!" she demanded, trying to struggle. "Where is he you bastard!"
His blow would have floored her again if it had not been for the guards holding her. "I'd keep a civil tongue in your mouth," he warned, reaching into his jacket for a piece of paper. "I take it you can read?" He held it before her, watching as her face paled in horror. She had seen such sheets before, pasted to walls and doors throughout towns, announcing the latest wanted people or delighting in their capture. Her eyes scanned it, tears streaming down her face without care of what Stephen or her captors might think.
"No!" she screamed, trying to lunge at him. "No! Let me see him! Take me to him! Damn you, you bastard! This was your doing, I know it!"
Again he hit her. "I have managed to intercede on your behalf," he said, "so I suggest you start being nicer to me." He leaned closer, cautious of her feet. "You could still join your husband on the gallows..."
"Willingly!" she spat, enraged beyond reasoning, watching with satisfaction as her spittle dribbled down his face. His next blow knocked her unconscious.
"Take her to the ship," he ordered, reaching to his pocket for a handkerchief. He dabbed his face. "Ensure she is securely manacled," he ordered. "She's as slippery as her late husband..." He walked out of the cell, chuckling to himself as he realised she was already broken.
###
Jack hissed, prising the shot out with his dagger before trying to cauterise the wound by heating the same dagger in the flame of the tallow candle. He knew he would not be able to hide for long in the disused warehouse, but had to make himself appear respectable again before he could search for Catherine. His heart lurched again as he thought of her in his brother's control, fearing even more than ever as he had killed George. He patted his pocket, reassured to feel the letter still within, before blowing out the candle - it would not do for the light to be seen. He slouched in the corner, a few torn sacks making for an uncomfortable bed as he tried to get some sleep. He would try to find her once it was dark.
###
But darkness came and went, and Jack did not wake. He had lost more blood than he had realised and a sheen of sweat soon covered his brow. He tossed, moaning in his sleep, crying out for Catherine.
###
Jack woke with a start. He did not know how long he had slept, but feeling his face realised it must have been for some days. Groggily he clambered to his feet, shocked to see how much the warehouse was out of focus. He sat back down again, admitting to himself that he needed help and that the only help he could trust was far away. Cautiously he peered at his shoulder, wincing at the angry red flesh that was clearly not healing. He knew he would be of little help to Catherine if he died from his wound, or if he managed to get himself caught in his delirium. "Nothin' fer it," he muttered to himself, regretfully admitting that he would have to return to the ship. A two day carriage ride would be faster by horse and he was grateful that Little Feather had taught him to ride... for tonight he would ride for his wife.
###
###
Catherine found herself thrown into a wagon, a barred door shutting with a clang. Briefly she tested her bonds, but the ropes were securely tied. Dejectedly she lay there, bouncing as the wagon rumbled across the cobbled streets, wondering where Jack was and afraid that he had been caught - how else could the soldiers have found her. She shook her head - no, Jack would not have told them where she was, she knew that... so what had happened?
She tensed as the wagon lurched to a halt, rolling to the front of the cage with the motion. Rough hands dragged her, feet first from the cage, catching her before her head hit the ground. "Easy does it Joe," a voice echoed, laughing as she found herself helped upright. "Don't want to damage the goods yet, do we?"
"Well, we can have some fun later," the one she assumed was Joe chuckled. She struggled as he roughly squeezed her breasts. "Eh darling," he chuckled, "lots of fun in the dark cells..."
She tried to kick out, but found only air, her captors' chuckles mocking her efforts as they forced her down some steps. A heavy lock sounded and she found herself thrown to the floor, her head hitting the dusty dirt floor with a thud. She lay there, groaning, listening to the door shut, the heavy clang of the key turning.
For hours she lay there, listening to the sounds of the jail, the clanks, the echoes, the pleas of those incarcerated with her. Guards patrolled past her door, their ponderous tread heavy on the stone floor. She strained to hear their conversation, catching the word pirate. "Yeah, caught him without even a fight," he laughed. "Just kept asking about his wife..."
A sob caught in her throat. She would have cried out but the gag stifled her cries. For a moment she prayed she had misheard.
"Yeah," the voice came again. "Strange that! Seems a long way to come to hang though!"
No... it could be no other. Her heart sank and she lay there in the darkness, crying without care as to who could hear her. The unthinkable had happened - they had caught Jack.
###
"Thank you gentlemen," Stephen Waike smiled, handing a bag of money to each. "Are you sure she heard?"
"She heard alright the way she was crying," the Sergeant laughed, secreting his money safely within his jacket. "Pleasure doing business with you again Mister Waike..." He paused. "I was sorry to hear about your father..."
"We'll catch Sparrow soon enough,," he replied sadly, whilst secretly thinking himself glad to be free of his father's restraints. The Waike fortune was now his - as was the large family home - and he had every intention of availing himself of it at the first opportunity.
"There was a trail of blood," the one called Joe offered. "But it disappeared down near the inn..." He shrugged apologetically.
"We hold the one thing he cares about," Stephen smiled. "He won't go far and then he will pay for my father's murder and hang like the scum he is!"
"Until the morning then..." the Sergeant nodded.
"I will be there," Stephen acknowledged, delighting in the thought of breaking the woman that had so defied him before.
###
Eventually the door to her cell opened. Dimly Catherine could hear the sound of birdsong, wondering briefly if it was dawn. She tensed, hearing voices - one of which she recognised. The sack was removed from her head and she blinked, squinting to see in the suddenly bright light.
"That is her," Stephen Waike said. "Thank you Sergeant." The man nodded and two guards hauled her to her somewhat unsteady feet as they removed her gag.
"Where's Jack!" she demanded, trying to struggle. "Where is he you bastard!"
His blow would have floored her again if it had not been for the guards holding her. "I'd keep a civil tongue in your mouth," he warned, reaching into his jacket for a piece of paper. "I take it you can read?" He held it before her, watching as her face paled in horror. She had seen such sheets before, pasted to walls and doors throughout towns, announcing the latest wanted people or delighting in their capture. Her eyes scanned it, tears streaming down her face without care of what Stephen or her captors might think.
"No!" she screamed, trying to lunge at him. "No! Let me see him! Take me to him! Damn you, you bastard! This was your doing, I know it!"
Again he hit her. "I have managed to intercede on your behalf," he said, "so I suggest you start being nicer to me." He leaned closer, cautious of her feet. "You could still join your husband on the gallows..."
"Willingly!" she spat, enraged beyond reasoning, watching with satisfaction as her spittle dribbled down his face. His next blow knocked her unconscious.
"Take her to the ship," he ordered, reaching to his pocket for a handkerchief. He dabbed his face. "Ensure she is securely manacled," he ordered. "She's as slippery as her late husband..." He walked out of the cell, chuckling to himself as he realised she was already broken.
###
Jack hissed, prising the shot out with his dagger before trying to cauterise the wound by heating the same dagger in the flame of the tallow candle. He knew he would not be able to hide for long in the disused warehouse, but had to make himself appear respectable again before he could search for Catherine. His heart lurched again as he thought of her in his brother's control, fearing even more than ever as he had killed George. He patted his pocket, reassured to feel the letter still within, before blowing out the candle - it would not do for the light to be seen. He slouched in the corner, a few torn sacks making for an uncomfortable bed as he tried to get some sleep. He would try to find her once it was dark.
###
But darkness came and went, and Jack did not wake. He had lost more blood than he had realised and a sheen of sweat soon covered his brow. He tossed, moaning in his sleep, crying out for Catherine.
###
Jack woke with a start. He did not know how long he had slept, but feeling his face realised it must have been for some days. Groggily he clambered to his feet, shocked to see how much the warehouse was out of focus. He sat back down again, admitting to himself that he needed help and that the only help he could trust was far away. Cautiously he peered at his shoulder, wincing at the angry red flesh that was clearly not healing. He knew he would be of little help to Catherine if he died from his wound, or if he managed to get himself caught in his delirium. "Nothin' fer it," he muttered to himself, regretfully admitting that he would have to return to the ship. A two day carriage ride would be faster by horse and he was grateful that Little Feather had taught him to ride... for tonight he would ride for his wife.
###