The carriage ride up to Mr. Smyth's house had taken just over ten minutes, yet our dash, downhill through the streets felt like hours. Finally we reached the Pearl, where Anamaria and Gibbs were waiting to let us aboard. After that all we could do was wait for Harry and Sim to return with the booty.

It had been two hours, the moon was growing low in the sky and streaks of grey were appearing in the east. Yet there was no sign of either of the men. We all knew what had happened, but still the four of us stood on the deck – cold without the African sun, watching and waiting in silence. I listened to the crew stir below deck and I knew my three companions were wondering what they would do when the found out we were without gold.

"We can't tell 'em" It was Anamaria that broke the silence, still staring ahead.

"I know." Sparrow replied, and he leaned further against the edge of the ship, head in his hands.

"Jack," I spoke softly, meaning to comfort the poor man, "I'm sure it wi..."

"Shut you trap, you scurvy bitch." He snapped before I could finish. "Or I'll 'old you to ransom to dear daddy to get my gold."

I stood up straight, I had helped this man when I could have run, trusted him with my life, near enough. God help me, I'd even begun to... and this is how he repays me!

"Well, I wish you would, if that is your intention Captain Sparrow!" I replied icily "My father, being an honest and caring man would pay and I would be home, away from you and therefor – happy!" I caught his despairing eyes for one piercing glance and turned to return to my cabin.

Unfortunately, I had forgotten about my ankle, and had not walked two steps before I had collapsed with the pain. Sparrow raised his eyebrows and smirked as he beheld me prostrate on the deck, but then his eyes rose to meet the misty shore of the Slave Coast – just visible over the horizon.

"No need fer 'aste Miss. Barbrook." He muttered half to himself as he stroked his greasy moustache. "I've jest thought of a better 'ostage."

****

"No, absolutely not!" I was surprised to here Anamaria speak out against Sparrow "I won't see it done Sparrow, you do it an' yer no better than 'em which is less than I expect of you." She fumed and, despite the pain of my ankle, I smiled to see Sparrow looking at a loss.

"Whots the problem Ana? We go ashore, swipe a 'undred or so of the blighters an' refuse to give 'em back until we're given our money."

The smile was removed from my face as I saw Anamaria draw her sword. I could not imagine her carrying one if she was any less of a swordsman than she was a sailor. Sparrow's hand flew to his hilt, but I saw him throw an imploring look at Anamaria.

"You listen to me, yer scurvy, dirty low-down sea dog." She spoke lowly and evenly, with a voice dripping with malice. "Slaves are people, they are not cargo. Any one of them could be my mother, father, brother or sister for all you white folks know or care." With this, she aimed a thrust at Sparrow's stomach. I was amazed to see her so riled; that blow was no warning and if Sparrow had not warded it off so quickly, I believe the crew would have to captain left to mutiny against.

"Whots all this 'white folks'?" Sparrow replied, as he warded of Anamaria's blows "We're pirates, whotever the colour of our skin, you know that more than any man aboard." He saw Anamaria let her guard down, and deftly flicked her sword out of her hand. It fell with a clatter like thunder in the sudden silence.

Anamaria and Sparrow stood, facing each other and looked to stare each other out until judgement day. I was standing next to Gibbs, leaning on the rails to take the weight off my ankle, I whispered to him:

"Should we do something? The crew will be up any minute now."

"Jest you wait Missy, there's forces at work 'ere an' we'd best not interfere." I shot Gibbs a confused look, but took his advice.

A while later Anamaria turned away.

"So when do we sail?" She spoke as if there had been no argument.

"As soon as possible – wake the crew." Sparrow too, acted as if nothing was amiss, though a bare ten minutes ago this woman had tried to kill him. I watched them go their separate ways, to make ready the ship.

"What was that..?" I began to ask Gibbs, until my ankle gave a twinge and he pain cut me off.

"Ah, come wiv' me, matey. I'll fix that leg o' yers up an tell yer all about it."

I sat in the tiny cabin below the galley, which Gibbs shared with the master gunner and the carpenter. It was smaller than my cabin, being situated at the bow of the ship, and there were no windows, but with the lantern alight it was quite cosy – if you ignored the smell. Gibb's knelled before me, talking as he applied a poultice to my leg, and wrapped linen about it.

"Ana and Jack first met long afore I knew 'im, on a ship out in the Caribbean. Jack was only a boy and 'ad never been on a ship afore in 'is life. Ana had been born on one; 'er mother was a slave transported from Africa to work on the sugar plantations in the British colonies. Ana's mother gave 'er away to a first mate she 'ad fallen in wiv' and Ana was brought up on the ship, and treated as somethin' of a pet by the crewmembers. But by the time Jack came aboard as a cabin boy, she was jest old enough fer the crew to 'ave other views towards 'er. So they escaped together an' made their way to Tortuga, where they planned to become the most fearsome pirates of the Caribbean. An' they pretty much were fer a while, though they were only young – Ana taught Jack everything she knew about sailin', which is more than I'll ever know. But after a while, when both were well into their teens." Gibbs looked up for a moment then, I was transfixed on his every word – it was like all the adventure stories I had mocked at home rolled into one – only interesting because it was real, not the vain fantasies of some foppish clerk.

"Go on." I urged him

"Well," He hesitated, but continued "Like I say, it was a day like any other and the two were in Tortuga, taking a respite after their latest voyage. Anamaria, I believe, were in a delicate condition."

"But she wasn't married!" I cut in shocked, Gibbs ignored my protest and continued.

"This day she 'ad decided to tell Jack an' ask 'im to be 'er 'usband, but afore she could find 'im, Jack 'ad been led astray by a Woman of Tortuga an' Anamaria found 'em together in their lodgin's that evenin'. So Ana ran away, and found a doctor who'd get rid of the baby – Jack never knew he could 'ave been a father to 'er child. She still loves 'im; God 'elp 'er, but that were too long ago fer Jack to keep 'is torch burnin' fer 'er. Yet they still 'ave a bond which, to my mind, is closer than that of any married couple."

"My goodness," I breathed "But why is she his Quartermaster on the Pearl?" Here Gibbs laughed.

"'Cause she's the best damn sailor in the Caribbean – that's why matey!" He patted my leg "Well, walk easy on that thing fer a week or too and yer'll be right as rain."

We reached the Slave Coast that evening, and the crime was committed under the cover of night. What occurred on that shore I cannot tell you, as I stayed on board, shaken after last night's escape. But as the dawn began to crawl up above the ocean, Sparrow and the crew returned with a great crowd of slaves.

Their skin was darker than Anamaria's, almost blue-black, they looked horribly thin and maltreated. Some were covered with bruises, most had their heads shaved and all wore ripped and faded clothes. The crew ushered then aboard and led them down below deck. They went so quietly that, despite their ragged condition they looked almost noble.

Anamaria sat with me in the galley – she too hadn't gone ashore. She uttered some oath to herself in a foreign tongue; she shook her head. "Oh Jack." I heard her mutter sadly.

Sparrow planned that it would take the slave traders on shore only a few days to resolve to give the pirates the money they asked for, in a letter sent by Sparrow himself. Anamaria, as well as detesting the plan, doubted if it would even work, she ascertained that no slave trader would think the slaves worth what Sparrow would ask and would not go to the trouble of getting them back.

We waited for two days, anchored a way offshore from the Slave Coast. It as an unbearable time, the sun beat down on us and supplies were low. Every time a sailor was sent down below to fetch water, they would come back shaking with tales of the slaves singing strange chants. Anamaria cursed their foolishness and it was her alone who brought food and water to the slaves during that time. As well as superstitions about the slaves, there was the more earthly fear that the slave traders would not bargain with the Pearl, and instead send the Navy on our tail. The crew begged to make anchor in a more hidden spot, not out in the open sea where anyone could spot them.

Sparrow shrugged off their fears however, pointing out they must be where the slave traders could find them easily when they did wish to bargain. The crew agreed to this grudgingly, but Sparrows authority as Captain was sorely pushed during this time. The nervous atmosphere on his ship must have affected him, but if it did, he showed no sign. Soon after returning to the Pearl, he had replaced his odd ornaments, let his hair hang in matted locks about his head and kholed his eyes with more vigour than ever before and quickly became every inch the pirate captain. All day he would stand at the bow of the ship, up on the forecastle, watching the shore with unblinking eyes. It was at this time I first began to see where Sparrow's strength lay. Though a good fighter and a strong man, Sparrow was more like a weasel than a wolf. He would not attack unprovoked, but would insinuate his way into a situation and dislodge what he wanted. It was a strength far removed from the bellowing, blustering ways of my father and the weapon wielding of the crew. It was not a strength I admired, you could not admire it, it was too dark, too deep and twisted. But despite myself, I could not help but feel a grudging kind of respect for Sparrow, as he stood alone on the forecastle while chaos reigned beneath him.

This unease on the ship couldn't last, and though I mostly kept to my cabin during this awful waiting, I could feel the tension onboard winding up, like clockwork – steely and inevitable.