Hello, everyone. Sorry my most recent chapters have been taking *sooo* long
to post, but I've been really busy of late. I've been up to my ears in
homework and what not recently. I apologize for any inconvenience.
Anyway, here we go with Chapter 6.
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Aragorn had a restless sleep that night. Comfortable though his bed was, and soothing though the piping music from out in the street was, he could not get any rest. The image of Andúril kept popping into his head. Aragorn saw himself there as well, holding Andúril and smiting Orcs and Uruk-hai with it. Then he saw it chained to the wall in a small, dank room. The room was at the end of a long corridor, lined on the right with cells with room for four.
Aragorn ran towards Andúril - the door was open - but then the door closed, and the glowering, almost evil form of Obstinée stepped in front of it, laughing maniacally.
"Step away!" shouted Aragorn, but his voice sounded distant and faint. "Andúril is mine! And none other's!"
But all Obstinée did was continue to cackle.
"I'm warning you..." said Aragorn, shaking with rage. "Give me the sword, or I'll stab you - and I mean that!"
The mad constable did nothing but stand there, still laughing, while Aragorn brought himself up to full height and stormed towards him. Without knowing what he was doing, he drew back his arm and swung it forward, the knife clasped in his hand streaking across Obstinée's belly leaving a long, dark red gash there, which within seconds began bleeding profusely.
Obstinée stopped laughing at once and crumpled to the floor, and instead began screaming, his face twisting in agony. Aragorn brought the knife up three more times, and brought it down three more times, striking Constable Obstinée in three different places. The madman began screaming yet harder.
Then, as Aragorn brought the knife up for the fourth time, he heard footsteps behind him, and a sound like a small explosion. A section of the grey rock on the wall shattered. Aragorn span around to see two bailiffs there, but he could not see their faces; his eyes were swimming in Obstinée's blood. Aragorn could see enough though, to realize that the bailiff on his right was pointing his musket at him. Then, the small, explosion-like noise went off again, and smoke spouted from the gun, and Aragorn was suddenly struck in the flank by something small. It was incredible pain, and more force than he could ever have fathomed.
He looked down to see a small, round, shining black object lodged in his side, blood spurting from the wound.
Aragorn sank to his knees and clutched his broken flesh as the two bailiffs came up to him. He looked up, and saw that neither actually had a face to look at. The one on his left was holding his musket upside-down, with the blade on the end pointed straight at Aragorn. He raised it up, and brought it down, sending the sharp weapon into Aragorn's back.
Aragorn screamed...and awoke in his comfortable bed in the Eagle's Nest. He felt his side and his back - no wounds. It was just a dream.
He looked out the window. A thin mist was hanging outside the glass, turning a pale red as the dawn's sun shone its first rays of light upon Port Royal. Aragorn got out of his bed shakily and went to the window. He could see the red sun just appearing on the horizon of the long, crystal clear sea now turned bright red, as though it were a sea of blood.
There was a knock on Aragorn's door. He turned and walked to the door, and opened it. Mr Munditieson was standing there, a broom in his left hand and a rag in the other.
"Ah, Mr Turner," he said. "There is a Mr Jarrow downstairs. He would like to speak with you."
"Thank you, Mr Munditieson," said Aragorn, and walked out the door. He walked down the carpeted stairs into the main room. Only a few, groggy looking people were at the tables, drinking coffee or tea. Jack was leaning up against the door frames, his purple scarf covering his mouth and his arms folded over his chest. Aragorn approached him.
"Good morning, Mr Jarrow," he said tersely.
"We're headed over to Elizabeth - that's Will's wife's - place to discuss a plan," said Jack in an undertone. "I would suggest if you have any luggage you bring it; we may be setting off today."
"Yes, yes," said Aragorn. "Anything else?"
"Not as such," said Jack. "I'll be waiting for you here. Get your stuff."
Aragorn hurried back to his room, pulled on his cloak, put his knife in his belt, and went back downstairs. He went to the front desk and returned his key to Mr Munditieson.
"Thank you for the most enjoyable stay," he said.
"Not at all," coughed the inn's owner. "Perhaps we will see you again sometime?"
"Not probable," said Jack, putting his hand on Aragorn's shoulder and pulling him backwards.
Aragorn followed Jack out of the inn and into the town square. Everyone around them was getting on with their daily business, but most of them were shooting suspicious or anxious glances at Aragorn, as though they expected him to do something drastic.
"Bloody tourists," Jack muttered under his breath.
Aragorn nodded distractedly.
"Come on, this way," Jack said, nudging Aragorn forward down the alley which took them to the beach. Once they had reached the bottom of the stone steps, they turned right, and walked along the rock wall at the edge of the beach to a black stone driveway, surrounded by gardens.
"This is the home of Governer Swann, father of Miss Elizabeth Swann, wife of Will Turner," explained Jack. "Renaissance architechture. Lovely carpets. I've only been here once before - I can't risk going into the open too much, being on the run from the law and all, but it's a very nice place from what I've seen. Scenery's especially good in the room Miss Swann happens to be residing in at a given time.
"Will should be there by now. I'm sure Governer Swann wouldn't object to his daughter's husband dropping in. Let's go."
Jack and Aragorn progressed up the driveway, to a pair of fancy iron gates. Jack pushed one open partially and went through, followed by Aragorn. They walked up to the roman-arched doorway, and Jack knocked on it.
They waited there for a minute, and then the doors swung open inwards. There stood an old, short man with a white wig. He looked from Jack to Aragorn, and Aragorn to Jack, with a look of confusion and disgust on his face.
"Yes?" he said.
"Good morning, sir," said Jack, putting on a ridiculously low voice. "Allow me to introduce us. I am Spack Jarrow. This is my friend, Mister James Turner. We are here to see Mister William Turner (James here's cousin) about a shipment of steel - he's a blacksmith, you see. We tried his blacksmith shop, but he was curiously absent. We have been told that his wife, Miss Elizabeth Previously-Swann-Now-Turner, lives here, and so we figured we'd try here next."
"What makes you think that there is a Miss Swann living here?" asked the doorman.
"Well, my suspicions were first aroused by the sign outside the gate reading 'The Swann's Residence'," said Jack.
"Oh," said the doorman sheepishly. "Well, Mister Turner is not here at the - "
"James, Mister Jarrow," said Will abruptly, brushing past the doorman to greet Jack and Aragorn. He had just entered the main hall. "Good to see you. Do come in."
"Wipe your feet," said Jack to Aragorn, as he entered without doing so. Aragorn wiped his feet on the mat and then walked into the hall. It was fairly small, with a staircase running along the left, back, and right wall (from where it disappeared from sight).
"Let's go upstairs and talk," said Will.
"Tea?" said the doorman.
"Please," said Jack.
"No thank you," said Will. Aragorn shook his head.
"Very well," said the doorman, and left through a door on the left wall.
"Come on," said Will, and led Aragorn and Jack up the winding staircase. They came into another corridor, but did not need to walk far; the door they were going through was right in front of them.
Will took the gold doorknob in his left hand and turned it. He pushed the door inward and led them into a small bedroom. The bed was a large, dark one with a comfortable looking spread adorning it. It rested on the far wall. The rest of the room was furnished quite elaborately. On the left wall was a large window which looked out on the entire cove of Port Royal. The water had begun to become blue again, Aragorn noticed.
"Well, take a seat," said Will. Aragorn walked over to a wooden rocking chair by the window and sat down, nearly toppling over when he leaned back in it. Jack sat down in a comfortable chintz chair, and Will in a four- legged wooden chair beside him.
"Well, gentlemen," said Jack, removing the scarf on his mouth, "you know why we're here. We must discuss our strategy of returning Mister Evenstar to his Middle-earth."
"It is not 'my' Middle-earth," said Aragorn irritably. "It is just Middle- earth."
"Fine, fine," said Jack. "We must discuss our strategy of returning Mister Evenstar to Middle-earth."
"I appreciate your generosity," said Aragorn.
"My pleasure," said Jack. "Well, we are going to, of course, take the fastest ship we can find. Well, at least, until we catch up to my ship, which has been strategically hidden just off-shore. Will, what is the fastest ship in these waters?"
"I think it's the Seafire, but I'm not sure," said Will. He thought about it for a second. "Yes, yes, that's the one."
"Thank you for your dubious answer, Will," said Jack, giving him a flicker of a grin. Will gave a small snort of laughter. "We should leave as soon as possible, so - "
"Why must we leave as soon as possible?" said Will.
"Well, I can't exactly just go trolling around the town square, can I?" said Jack. "It's this whole, you know, thing about being Jack Sparrow. The authorities seem to have a bit of a grudge against me. There's only so long that my disguise will hold out, so we should leave fairly soon. No doubt one or two people have already recognized me."
"Such as me," said a woman's voice from the door. Jack, Will, and Aragorn looked at the door to see a woman standing there, her hazel hair set in elaborate curls.
"Ah, Elizabeth darling," said Jack, smiling at her.
"You want to choose your disguises more carefully, er - Spack? Is that your name now?" said the woman.
"As it were, yes," said Jack. Elizabeth walked over to Will and sat down on a chair beside him.
"I don't remember letting into my bedroom," she said, friendlily. Will put his arm around her shoulders.
"Sorry," said Will sarcastically.
"Oh, Aragorn, this is my fiancée, Elizabeth Swann," said Will. "Elizabeth, this is Aragorn Evenstar. He's a friend of mine, staying for a couple days. He's leaving soon - he doesn't seem to enjoy Port Royal that well."
"I can understand that," said Elizabeth. "How do you do, Mister Evenstar?"
Aragorn nodded. He could tell Will didn't want to recount the whole story to her.
"Well, as I was saying, we should leave fairly soon or risk someone letting slip my true identity. Mister Evenstar, no doubt, wishes to retrieve his beloved sword from the clutches of Mister Obstinée. He has been put on full duty, as I understand it, so our only hope of getting it back is to steal it."
He looked up to the wall, where a large, glass mirror was hanging by a hook. He walked over to it, and looked into its shining surface. "We have but one choice," he said. "Aragorn and I will break into Obstinée's little storage room, steal back Aragorn's sword, and then escape with the Seafire."
"Is that so?" said a cool, deep, male voice from the hallway. Aragorn whipped his head around to see who it was. Jack said calmly, "Mister Norrington, how good to see you again."
"And you, Mister Sparrow," said the man in the door. He was wearing a blue suit and hat, and a white wig, and looked very stern. Beside him were two more men in red coats, holding muskets, but they weren't Becket and Ives.
"What is it you want of me?" said Jack coolly.
"What else, but your capture?" replied Norrington.
"Oh, of course," said Jack. "Mind like a sieve."
"Turn around," said Norrington taking no notice of Jack's sarcasm. Jack slowly turned around and faced him, and smiled pleasantly. "Who is this?" Norrington inquired, nodding his head towards Aragorn.
"This is Mister Aragorn Evenstar, a man I've been plotting with," said Aragorn. "We intend to steal back his sword which was confiscated, and then commandeer the H.M.S. Seafire, to escape."
"Really?" said Norrington in a bored voice. "Take them, men."
Jack drew out his cutlass, and Aragorn pulled his knife from his belt, and stood up so fast that the chair toppled over. He dared a glance at the chairs where Elizabeth and Will had been sitting, behind which they were now hiding.
"You'll have to take us by force, Norrington," said Jack.
Norrington retreated into the hallway, looked down to the left, and nodded. Some two dozen more men in red coats came flooding into the room, muskets pointed.
"Alright, you've made your point," said Jack. "But, unfortunately, Mister Evenstar and I do not attend to come quietly. We'll kill as many of your men as it takes to escape."
"You can't take twenty-six muskets and a rapier on your own," he said, drawing his own sword (quite feeble and thin, like Will's). "How do you intend to escape?"
Jack grabbed a candlestick from the dresser and threw it through the window, which shattered into thousands of tiny shards, all falling dangerously onto the street below.
"Send my apologies to Elizabeth about the broken window," Jack said, climbing up onto the windowsill, and putting his sword back in his belt. He turned around and leaped outside.
"Get down there now!" Norrington ordered twelve of his men, who hastened to obey. "And you," he added nastily to Aragorn, "you come with us."
"I certainly hope Mister Evenstar has enough sense to jump out the window as well," said Jack loudly and audibly from outside. Aragorn hurried onto the windowsill with his knife at the ready.
"Roberts, get him!" Norrington roared. A portly man with a bristly moustache came forward to apprehend Aragorn. Aragorn meant to cause no harm to law-abiding men, but it was his reflexes after years of Orc-slaying that caused him to thrust his hand forward and hide the blade of his knife in the man's stomach.
Once he realized what he had done - a split second too late - he pulled the knife out, aghast, and yelped (unheard beneath his victim's scream). The man dropped his musket and it fired, shattering a vase, and curled to the ground, blood billowing out.
Aragorn knew he had but one choice: He turned and leapt out of the window, onto the street below. Broken glass crunching underfoot.
"Good to see you're alive," said Jack gruffly. "I heard the musket fire and thought for sure you'd snuffed it."
"No, it blasted a vase to shards, though," said Aragorn.
"Well, let's go," said Jack. "Come - "
He stopped short, grabbed Aragorn's wrist and jerked it upwards, revealing the knife, shining with dark red blood.
"Oh, dear, we're in a spot of bother now," muttered Jack. "Well, you've broken the law now, and now you're on the run. Join the club. I suggest we move out of here, sharpish."
This was a fairly sane idea, Aragorn discovered soon. The glass on the front door exploded into fragments; it had been fired at.
"Come on, let's get out of here," said Jack, taking hold of Aragorn's sleeve and charging towards the driveway.
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Uh-oh, Aragorn's in trouble. I'll try to get Chapter 7 up faster than this one. ;)
P.S. Thanks again to all my reviewers (except Acacia Jules, whose reviews were as useful as a hermit's address book). You guys are really helping.
Anyway, here we go with Chapter 6.
---------------
Aragorn had a restless sleep that night. Comfortable though his bed was, and soothing though the piping music from out in the street was, he could not get any rest. The image of Andúril kept popping into his head. Aragorn saw himself there as well, holding Andúril and smiting Orcs and Uruk-hai with it. Then he saw it chained to the wall in a small, dank room. The room was at the end of a long corridor, lined on the right with cells with room for four.
Aragorn ran towards Andúril - the door was open - but then the door closed, and the glowering, almost evil form of Obstinée stepped in front of it, laughing maniacally.
"Step away!" shouted Aragorn, but his voice sounded distant and faint. "Andúril is mine! And none other's!"
But all Obstinée did was continue to cackle.
"I'm warning you..." said Aragorn, shaking with rage. "Give me the sword, or I'll stab you - and I mean that!"
The mad constable did nothing but stand there, still laughing, while Aragorn brought himself up to full height and stormed towards him. Without knowing what he was doing, he drew back his arm and swung it forward, the knife clasped in his hand streaking across Obstinée's belly leaving a long, dark red gash there, which within seconds began bleeding profusely.
Obstinée stopped laughing at once and crumpled to the floor, and instead began screaming, his face twisting in agony. Aragorn brought the knife up three more times, and brought it down three more times, striking Constable Obstinée in three different places. The madman began screaming yet harder.
Then, as Aragorn brought the knife up for the fourth time, he heard footsteps behind him, and a sound like a small explosion. A section of the grey rock on the wall shattered. Aragorn span around to see two bailiffs there, but he could not see their faces; his eyes were swimming in Obstinée's blood. Aragorn could see enough though, to realize that the bailiff on his right was pointing his musket at him. Then, the small, explosion-like noise went off again, and smoke spouted from the gun, and Aragorn was suddenly struck in the flank by something small. It was incredible pain, and more force than he could ever have fathomed.
He looked down to see a small, round, shining black object lodged in his side, blood spurting from the wound.
Aragorn sank to his knees and clutched his broken flesh as the two bailiffs came up to him. He looked up, and saw that neither actually had a face to look at. The one on his left was holding his musket upside-down, with the blade on the end pointed straight at Aragorn. He raised it up, and brought it down, sending the sharp weapon into Aragorn's back.
Aragorn screamed...and awoke in his comfortable bed in the Eagle's Nest. He felt his side and his back - no wounds. It was just a dream.
He looked out the window. A thin mist was hanging outside the glass, turning a pale red as the dawn's sun shone its first rays of light upon Port Royal. Aragorn got out of his bed shakily and went to the window. He could see the red sun just appearing on the horizon of the long, crystal clear sea now turned bright red, as though it were a sea of blood.
There was a knock on Aragorn's door. He turned and walked to the door, and opened it. Mr Munditieson was standing there, a broom in his left hand and a rag in the other.
"Ah, Mr Turner," he said. "There is a Mr Jarrow downstairs. He would like to speak with you."
"Thank you, Mr Munditieson," said Aragorn, and walked out the door. He walked down the carpeted stairs into the main room. Only a few, groggy looking people were at the tables, drinking coffee or tea. Jack was leaning up against the door frames, his purple scarf covering his mouth and his arms folded over his chest. Aragorn approached him.
"Good morning, Mr Jarrow," he said tersely.
"We're headed over to Elizabeth - that's Will's wife's - place to discuss a plan," said Jack in an undertone. "I would suggest if you have any luggage you bring it; we may be setting off today."
"Yes, yes," said Aragorn. "Anything else?"
"Not as such," said Jack. "I'll be waiting for you here. Get your stuff."
Aragorn hurried back to his room, pulled on his cloak, put his knife in his belt, and went back downstairs. He went to the front desk and returned his key to Mr Munditieson.
"Thank you for the most enjoyable stay," he said.
"Not at all," coughed the inn's owner. "Perhaps we will see you again sometime?"
"Not probable," said Jack, putting his hand on Aragorn's shoulder and pulling him backwards.
Aragorn followed Jack out of the inn and into the town square. Everyone around them was getting on with their daily business, but most of them were shooting suspicious or anxious glances at Aragorn, as though they expected him to do something drastic.
"Bloody tourists," Jack muttered under his breath.
Aragorn nodded distractedly.
"Come on, this way," Jack said, nudging Aragorn forward down the alley which took them to the beach. Once they had reached the bottom of the stone steps, they turned right, and walked along the rock wall at the edge of the beach to a black stone driveway, surrounded by gardens.
"This is the home of Governer Swann, father of Miss Elizabeth Swann, wife of Will Turner," explained Jack. "Renaissance architechture. Lovely carpets. I've only been here once before - I can't risk going into the open too much, being on the run from the law and all, but it's a very nice place from what I've seen. Scenery's especially good in the room Miss Swann happens to be residing in at a given time.
"Will should be there by now. I'm sure Governer Swann wouldn't object to his daughter's husband dropping in. Let's go."
Jack and Aragorn progressed up the driveway, to a pair of fancy iron gates. Jack pushed one open partially and went through, followed by Aragorn. They walked up to the roman-arched doorway, and Jack knocked on it.
They waited there for a minute, and then the doors swung open inwards. There stood an old, short man with a white wig. He looked from Jack to Aragorn, and Aragorn to Jack, with a look of confusion and disgust on his face.
"Yes?" he said.
"Good morning, sir," said Jack, putting on a ridiculously low voice. "Allow me to introduce us. I am Spack Jarrow. This is my friend, Mister James Turner. We are here to see Mister William Turner (James here's cousin) about a shipment of steel - he's a blacksmith, you see. We tried his blacksmith shop, but he was curiously absent. We have been told that his wife, Miss Elizabeth Previously-Swann-Now-Turner, lives here, and so we figured we'd try here next."
"What makes you think that there is a Miss Swann living here?" asked the doorman.
"Well, my suspicions were first aroused by the sign outside the gate reading 'The Swann's Residence'," said Jack.
"Oh," said the doorman sheepishly. "Well, Mister Turner is not here at the - "
"James, Mister Jarrow," said Will abruptly, brushing past the doorman to greet Jack and Aragorn. He had just entered the main hall. "Good to see you. Do come in."
"Wipe your feet," said Jack to Aragorn, as he entered without doing so. Aragorn wiped his feet on the mat and then walked into the hall. It was fairly small, with a staircase running along the left, back, and right wall (from where it disappeared from sight).
"Let's go upstairs and talk," said Will.
"Tea?" said the doorman.
"Please," said Jack.
"No thank you," said Will. Aragorn shook his head.
"Very well," said the doorman, and left through a door on the left wall.
"Come on," said Will, and led Aragorn and Jack up the winding staircase. They came into another corridor, but did not need to walk far; the door they were going through was right in front of them.
Will took the gold doorknob in his left hand and turned it. He pushed the door inward and led them into a small bedroom. The bed was a large, dark one with a comfortable looking spread adorning it. It rested on the far wall. The rest of the room was furnished quite elaborately. On the left wall was a large window which looked out on the entire cove of Port Royal. The water had begun to become blue again, Aragorn noticed.
"Well, take a seat," said Will. Aragorn walked over to a wooden rocking chair by the window and sat down, nearly toppling over when he leaned back in it. Jack sat down in a comfortable chintz chair, and Will in a four- legged wooden chair beside him.
"Well, gentlemen," said Jack, removing the scarf on his mouth, "you know why we're here. We must discuss our strategy of returning Mister Evenstar to his Middle-earth."
"It is not 'my' Middle-earth," said Aragorn irritably. "It is just Middle- earth."
"Fine, fine," said Jack. "We must discuss our strategy of returning Mister Evenstar to Middle-earth."
"I appreciate your generosity," said Aragorn.
"My pleasure," said Jack. "Well, we are going to, of course, take the fastest ship we can find. Well, at least, until we catch up to my ship, which has been strategically hidden just off-shore. Will, what is the fastest ship in these waters?"
"I think it's the Seafire, but I'm not sure," said Will. He thought about it for a second. "Yes, yes, that's the one."
"Thank you for your dubious answer, Will," said Jack, giving him a flicker of a grin. Will gave a small snort of laughter. "We should leave as soon as possible, so - "
"Why must we leave as soon as possible?" said Will.
"Well, I can't exactly just go trolling around the town square, can I?" said Jack. "It's this whole, you know, thing about being Jack Sparrow. The authorities seem to have a bit of a grudge against me. There's only so long that my disguise will hold out, so we should leave fairly soon. No doubt one or two people have already recognized me."
"Such as me," said a woman's voice from the door. Jack, Will, and Aragorn looked at the door to see a woman standing there, her hazel hair set in elaborate curls.
"Ah, Elizabeth darling," said Jack, smiling at her.
"You want to choose your disguises more carefully, er - Spack? Is that your name now?" said the woman.
"As it were, yes," said Jack. Elizabeth walked over to Will and sat down on a chair beside him.
"I don't remember letting into my bedroom," she said, friendlily. Will put his arm around her shoulders.
"Sorry," said Will sarcastically.
"Oh, Aragorn, this is my fiancée, Elizabeth Swann," said Will. "Elizabeth, this is Aragorn Evenstar. He's a friend of mine, staying for a couple days. He's leaving soon - he doesn't seem to enjoy Port Royal that well."
"I can understand that," said Elizabeth. "How do you do, Mister Evenstar?"
Aragorn nodded. He could tell Will didn't want to recount the whole story to her.
"Well, as I was saying, we should leave fairly soon or risk someone letting slip my true identity. Mister Evenstar, no doubt, wishes to retrieve his beloved sword from the clutches of Mister Obstinée. He has been put on full duty, as I understand it, so our only hope of getting it back is to steal it."
He looked up to the wall, where a large, glass mirror was hanging by a hook. He walked over to it, and looked into its shining surface. "We have but one choice," he said. "Aragorn and I will break into Obstinée's little storage room, steal back Aragorn's sword, and then escape with the Seafire."
"Is that so?" said a cool, deep, male voice from the hallway. Aragorn whipped his head around to see who it was. Jack said calmly, "Mister Norrington, how good to see you again."
"And you, Mister Sparrow," said the man in the door. He was wearing a blue suit and hat, and a white wig, and looked very stern. Beside him were two more men in red coats, holding muskets, but they weren't Becket and Ives.
"What is it you want of me?" said Jack coolly.
"What else, but your capture?" replied Norrington.
"Oh, of course," said Jack. "Mind like a sieve."
"Turn around," said Norrington taking no notice of Jack's sarcasm. Jack slowly turned around and faced him, and smiled pleasantly. "Who is this?" Norrington inquired, nodding his head towards Aragorn.
"This is Mister Aragorn Evenstar, a man I've been plotting with," said Aragorn. "We intend to steal back his sword which was confiscated, and then commandeer the H.M.S. Seafire, to escape."
"Really?" said Norrington in a bored voice. "Take them, men."
Jack drew out his cutlass, and Aragorn pulled his knife from his belt, and stood up so fast that the chair toppled over. He dared a glance at the chairs where Elizabeth and Will had been sitting, behind which they were now hiding.
"You'll have to take us by force, Norrington," said Jack.
Norrington retreated into the hallway, looked down to the left, and nodded. Some two dozen more men in red coats came flooding into the room, muskets pointed.
"Alright, you've made your point," said Jack. "But, unfortunately, Mister Evenstar and I do not attend to come quietly. We'll kill as many of your men as it takes to escape."
"You can't take twenty-six muskets and a rapier on your own," he said, drawing his own sword (quite feeble and thin, like Will's). "How do you intend to escape?"
Jack grabbed a candlestick from the dresser and threw it through the window, which shattered into thousands of tiny shards, all falling dangerously onto the street below.
"Send my apologies to Elizabeth about the broken window," Jack said, climbing up onto the windowsill, and putting his sword back in his belt. He turned around and leaped outside.
"Get down there now!" Norrington ordered twelve of his men, who hastened to obey. "And you," he added nastily to Aragorn, "you come with us."
"I certainly hope Mister Evenstar has enough sense to jump out the window as well," said Jack loudly and audibly from outside. Aragorn hurried onto the windowsill with his knife at the ready.
"Roberts, get him!" Norrington roared. A portly man with a bristly moustache came forward to apprehend Aragorn. Aragorn meant to cause no harm to law-abiding men, but it was his reflexes after years of Orc-slaying that caused him to thrust his hand forward and hide the blade of his knife in the man's stomach.
Once he realized what he had done - a split second too late - he pulled the knife out, aghast, and yelped (unheard beneath his victim's scream). The man dropped his musket and it fired, shattering a vase, and curled to the ground, blood billowing out.
Aragorn knew he had but one choice: He turned and leapt out of the window, onto the street below. Broken glass crunching underfoot.
"Good to see you're alive," said Jack gruffly. "I heard the musket fire and thought for sure you'd snuffed it."
"No, it blasted a vase to shards, though," said Aragorn.
"Well, let's go," said Jack. "Come - "
He stopped short, grabbed Aragorn's wrist and jerked it upwards, revealing the knife, shining with dark red blood.
"Oh, dear, we're in a spot of bother now," muttered Jack. "Well, you've broken the law now, and now you're on the run. Join the club. I suggest we move out of here, sharpish."
This was a fairly sane idea, Aragorn discovered soon. The glass on the front door exploded into fragments; it had been fired at.
"Come on, let's get out of here," said Jack, taking hold of Aragorn's sleeve and charging towards the driveway.
-------
Uh-oh, Aragorn's in trouble. I'll try to get Chapter 7 up faster than this one. ;)
P.S. Thanks again to all my reviewers (except Acacia Jules, whose reviews were as useful as a hermit's address book). You guys are really helping.