The Commodore's Daughter
Chapter Nine
"So how exactly do you plan to go about letting everyone know we've got the governor with us?" Jack asked, pushing his chair back from the table to rest on its back two legs. Picking up an apple from a bowl on the table and biting into it, he looked across the table at Anna and raised his eyebrows.
She leaned forward, folding her arms in front of her. "Well, one solution is to send a message to the acting governor."
"How? We've only the one ship, love. Want an apple?"
Anna took the proffered fruit and bit into it. "No messenger birds, either, I take it?"
"What do you think this is, a bloody communications center?" Jack retorted. "One of your stories, maybe? This is a pirate ship. We carry only what we need, and the least amount possible of that."
"Except rum," Anna teased. "Then you take all you can of that."
"Absolutely," Jack agreed shamelessly. "And in answer to your question, no. We're dealing with one ship and no way of getting messages sent to anywhere unless we bring them."
"All right," Anna replied. She took another bite of her apple, chewed it, and swallowed before going on. "Dock in Port Royal at a lesser-known place – I'm sure you know one." Her suspicions were confirmed when she saw Jack's reminiscent smile. "Tell me the story later – I want to hear it. Once we dock, send Thomas and me to my father."
She was interrupted as Jack's chair slammed into the floor. He stood up, the apple dropping from his hand onto the table. "Oh, no," he said emphatically. "No, no, no. I'm having no dealings with that man again unless I can't help it. Think of another way."
"I did!" Anna pointed out, peeved. "You shot them out of the water."
"Because they're bloody impossible!" Jack snapped.
"Jack, he's not going to hang you – not while the governor's on your ship and under your control. My father will want no part of the French in Jamaica, and he will do anything he can to prevent that – even if it means allying with a pirate. That I promise you." Jack still looked unconvinced, and Anna huffed with annoyance. "He did it once before, didn't he?"
"Aye," Jack conceded. "And dragged me off to the gallows as soon as the business was over."
"Well, he won't do it again. I –" Anna broke off, suddenly aware of how trite her words would have sounded had she spoken them.
"You what?" Jack pulled out his chair and sat again. Damn him, he was smiling again! Anna looked down at her apple, aware that she was probably blushing furiously. "What?" Jack persisted.
Anna bit her lip. "I – I won't let him." She felt a rush of embarrassment, and suddenly looked up at Jack. "All right? I won't let him kill you."
Jack's smile softened. "Good enough. The word of the commodore's daughter has, I take it, some influence in the commodore's household."
"It does," Anna admitted. "And I wouldn't want my father to kill you."
"And why is that?" he asked, his voice soft and teasing.
"Because – well –" Anna made herself stop babbling and breathe before she went on. She wanted very much to look away from Jack, but she couldn't for some reason she didn't fully understand. "Because I care about you – I mean, about what happens to you – I mean –" Breathe, she told herself firmly. It did not help greatly. "I mean – you didn't have to spare us. You could easily have killed us all, and we would have understood. I owe you my life, Captain Jack Sparrow." Anna grinned sheepishly. "As clichéd as that sounds."
Jack's next words made her catch her breath. "My pleasure, love." Her eyes darted up towards his, almost afraid to look at him, and she swallowed hard. She didn't realize she had started to lean toward him until the edge of the table introduced itself sharply to her stomach, and she flushed and sat back, wondering what might have just happened if the table hadn't intervened, and feeling very sorry that it had.
"So," she said, going back to her plan, "if Thomas and I tell Father about the French convoy, he will help us. He'll hide us all – even the Pearl's crew – in our house until we can tell everyone that we have the governor with us."
"Probably be best to start the uprising after the French come in," Jack said thoughtfully. In the space of a few moments, he seemed to have forgotten that the very air had just throbbed with the unspoken words and wishes of both of them. "That way, we don't have to fight off the ships of the line."
"How many could the Black Pearl account for?" Anna asked.
"Probably two, before she took too many hits to stay afloat. The French are tough fighters." At Anna's thoughtful look, Jack said quickly, "But I'm not letting her fight. The Pearl is my ship, not the British Crown's. They can waste their ships as they like, but I choose the Black Pearl's battles, and I'm not willing to let her sink for England."
Anna could understand his position, although it was not the one she'd hoped for. "Fair enough," she allowed. "And I guarantee that the people will join us." She grinned. "We English have no fondness for the French."
"Good." Jack sighed. "Is there no other way, or do I really have to resign myself to allying with the commodore?"
"There's no other way," Anna said firmly. "Or at least, no other way that would succeed."
"All right, then." Pushing back his chair, Jack stood up again and made his way to the door of his cabin. "We'll be back in Port Royal in about two days. It's only fifty miles from St. Catherine, after all." He reached for the doorknob, but turned back, a quizzical look on his face. "Anna, do you know how to use a pistol at all?"
She flushed. "Don't you just aim and pull the trigger?" she blurted, hearing her voice in her ears and flushing even redder at the stupidity of her words.
Jack shook his head, grinning. "You'll want to be learning, for when we take Port Royal back. I can get Annamaria to teach you." He laughed at the look of uncertainty on Anna's face. "Let me guess – you want to learn, but not from someone who's probably going to bite your head off if you forget anything." Anna nodded emphatically – he'd spoken her exact thoughts. "I can teach you, too, if you'd prefer that."
"Absolutely!" exclaimed Anna, nodding vigorously. "I most definitely would!"
Jack's smile broadened. "Good. Stand up, then." Anna blinked, confused, and Jack sighed. "It'd probably be best if you knew how to shoot by the time we come to Port Royal. And seeing as we only have two days, we'd best get started, eh?"
"Oh. Right." Anna got up. "I – I don't have a pistol."
"I have to say I'm glad of that. I don't trust you farther than I can throw you." Anna's eyes widened. "After two attempts on me life and one to take my ship, I don't see that I have much reason to trust you," Jack elaborated. "However, as it seems I must, I'll at least give you a pistol," he continued, going to a chest under one of the cabin's windows. He opened it, fished around for a minute or two, and emerged with a small wooden pistol. "Catch." He tossed it across the air between them, and Anna caught it smoothly. Jack came back to stand beside her, pulling his own pistol from his belt. "We'll start as my first instructor did – the parts. That's obviously the trigger, and this..."
***
"One day till we get there, I think!" Annamaria called to Zhao from her place at the wheel. The midget raised a hand in acknowledgement, and Annamaria turned her eyes back to the horizon. She had made no pretense of her opinion of Jack's latest idea – it was a cockamamie notion sure to get them all dangling from a rope – but Jack had not been inclined to listen to her on that count. She sighed. After years of sailing with the pirate captain, Annamaria knew when to press a point and when to hold her peace – and this was one of the latter times.
Suddenly there was a loud bang from below the deck. Annamaria jumped a foot into the air and grabbed for the wheel to steady herself. "Hendrikson! Go down there and see what the hell just happened!" she bellowed, and the Dutchman leaped to obey. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths to calm her nerves. She remembered with sudden, frightening clarity that the young girl prisoner had been alone with Jack in his cabin, and that sound had been far too much like a pistol shot for her comfort... She forced herself to be calm, to stop thinking that the crazy girl might have shot Jack. Her captain was a very good shot. He could take care of himself. But still...
Her nerves were calmed when Hendrikson returned, looking perfectly normal. "What was that?" demanded Annamaria as the Dutchman drew near her post.
Hendrikson bit back a grin. He was pretty sure that he knew what Annamaria's reaction would be, and he was quite looking forward to seeing it. "Captain Sparrow's teaching Miss Anna how to shoot." Having delivered his message, Hendrikson leaned back against the prow and watched the fireworks.
They were more than satisfactory. Annamaria screeched "WHAT?" and gave the wheel a savage yank, mindless of the direction the Pearl was headed in. Hendrikson reached out and readjusted the wheel – Annamaria let go of it, picked up a small stone from the deck, and hurled it out into the water. She stopped herself from pounding her foot on the deck just in time, and another bang rang out, making her lurch, grab for the prow, and let loose a stream of obscenities, directed mainly at Jack, but with a few choice words spared for Anna. Hendrikson tilted his head to catch the vivid words, a half-grin on his face at Annamaria's temper.
Finally she got herself under control and reached for the wheel again. "Ignore all that," she ordered Hendrikson. "It never happened." Her knuckles were white where she gripped the wheel – Hendrikson chortled under his breath. "You can go now." He made an exaggerated bow and obeyed. He couldn't wait to tell Gibbs about Annamaria's temper tantrum later today, some time when she wasn't around.
Chapter Nine
"So how exactly do you plan to go about letting everyone know we've got the governor with us?" Jack asked, pushing his chair back from the table to rest on its back two legs. Picking up an apple from a bowl on the table and biting into it, he looked across the table at Anna and raised his eyebrows.
She leaned forward, folding her arms in front of her. "Well, one solution is to send a message to the acting governor."
"How? We've only the one ship, love. Want an apple?"
Anna took the proffered fruit and bit into it. "No messenger birds, either, I take it?"
"What do you think this is, a bloody communications center?" Jack retorted. "One of your stories, maybe? This is a pirate ship. We carry only what we need, and the least amount possible of that."
"Except rum," Anna teased. "Then you take all you can of that."
"Absolutely," Jack agreed shamelessly. "And in answer to your question, no. We're dealing with one ship and no way of getting messages sent to anywhere unless we bring them."
"All right," Anna replied. She took another bite of her apple, chewed it, and swallowed before going on. "Dock in Port Royal at a lesser-known place – I'm sure you know one." Her suspicions were confirmed when she saw Jack's reminiscent smile. "Tell me the story later – I want to hear it. Once we dock, send Thomas and me to my father."
She was interrupted as Jack's chair slammed into the floor. He stood up, the apple dropping from his hand onto the table. "Oh, no," he said emphatically. "No, no, no. I'm having no dealings with that man again unless I can't help it. Think of another way."
"I did!" Anna pointed out, peeved. "You shot them out of the water."
"Because they're bloody impossible!" Jack snapped.
"Jack, he's not going to hang you – not while the governor's on your ship and under your control. My father will want no part of the French in Jamaica, and he will do anything he can to prevent that – even if it means allying with a pirate. That I promise you." Jack still looked unconvinced, and Anna huffed with annoyance. "He did it once before, didn't he?"
"Aye," Jack conceded. "And dragged me off to the gallows as soon as the business was over."
"Well, he won't do it again. I –" Anna broke off, suddenly aware of how trite her words would have sounded had she spoken them.
"You what?" Jack pulled out his chair and sat again. Damn him, he was smiling again! Anna looked down at her apple, aware that she was probably blushing furiously. "What?" Jack persisted.
Anna bit her lip. "I – I won't let him." She felt a rush of embarrassment, and suddenly looked up at Jack. "All right? I won't let him kill you."
Jack's smile softened. "Good enough. The word of the commodore's daughter has, I take it, some influence in the commodore's household."
"It does," Anna admitted. "And I wouldn't want my father to kill you."
"And why is that?" he asked, his voice soft and teasing.
"Because – well –" Anna made herself stop babbling and breathe before she went on. She wanted very much to look away from Jack, but she couldn't for some reason she didn't fully understand. "Because I care about you – I mean, about what happens to you – I mean –" Breathe, she told herself firmly. It did not help greatly. "I mean – you didn't have to spare us. You could easily have killed us all, and we would have understood. I owe you my life, Captain Jack Sparrow." Anna grinned sheepishly. "As clichéd as that sounds."
Jack's next words made her catch her breath. "My pleasure, love." Her eyes darted up towards his, almost afraid to look at him, and she swallowed hard. She didn't realize she had started to lean toward him until the edge of the table introduced itself sharply to her stomach, and she flushed and sat back, wondering what might have just happened if the table hadn't intervened, and feeling very sorry that it had.
"So," she said, going back to her plan, "if Thomas and I tell Father about the French convoy, he will help us. He'll hide us all – even the Pearl's crew – in our house until we can tell everyone that we have the governor with us."
"Probably be best to start the uprising after the French come in," Jack said thoughtfully. In the space of a few moments, he seemed to have forgotten that the very air had just throbbed with the unspoken words and wishes of both of them. "That way, we don't have to fight off the ships of the line."
"How many could the Black Pearl account for?" Anna asked.
"Probably two, before she took too many hits to stay afloat. The French are tough fighters." At Anna's thoughtful look, Jack said quickly, "But I'm not letting her fight. The Pearl is my ship, not the British Crown's. They can waste their ships as they like, but I choose the Black Pearl's battles, and I'm not willing to let her sink for England."
Anna could understand his position, although it was not the one she'd hoped for. "Fair enough," she allowed. "And I guarantee that the people will join us." She grinned. "We English have no fondness for the French."
"Good." Jack sighed. "Is there no other way, or do I really have to resign myself to allying with the commodore?"
"There's no other way," Anna said firmly. "Or at least, no other way that would succeed."
"All right, then." Pushing back his chair, Jack stood up again and made his way to the door of his cabin. "We'll be back in Port Royal in about two days. It's only fifty miles from St. Catherine, after all." He reached for the doorknob, but turned back, a quizzical look on his face. "Anna, do you know how to use a pistol at all?"
She flushed. "Don't you just aim and pull the trigger?" she blurted, hearing her voice in her ears and flushing even redder at the stupidity of her words.
Jack shook his head, grinning. "You'll want to be learning, for when we take Port Royal back. I can get Annamaria to teach you." He laughed at the look of uncertainty on Anna's face. "Let me guess – you want to learn, but not from someone who's probably going to bite your head off if you forget anything." Anna nodded emphatically – he'd spoken her exact thoughts. "I can teach you, too, if you'd prefer that."
"Absolutely!" exclaimed Anna, nodding vigorously. "I most definitely would!"
Jack's smile broadened. "Good. Stand up, then." Anna blinked, confused, and Jack sighed. "It'd probably be best if you knew how to shoot by the time we come to Port Royal. And seeing as we only have two days, we'd best get started, eh?"
"Oh. Right." Anna got up. "I – I don't have a pistol."
"I have to say I'm glad of that. I don't trust you farther than I can throw you." Anna's eyes widened. "After two attempts on me life and one to take my ship, I don't see that I have much reason to trust you," Jack elaborated. "However, as it seems I must, I'll at least give you a pistol," he continued, going to a chest under one of the cabin's windows. He opened it, fished around for a minute or two, and emerged with a small wooden pistol. "Catch." He tossed it across the air between them, and Anna caught it smoothly. Jack came back to stand beside her, pulling his own pistol from his belt. "We'll start as my first instructor did – the parts. That's obviously the trigger, and this..."
***
"One day till we get there, I think!" Annamaria called to Zhao from her place at the wheel. The midget raised a hand in acknowledgement, and Annamaria turned her eyes back to the horizon. She had made no pretense of her opinion of Jack's latest idea – it was a cockamamie notion sure to get them all dangling from a rope – but Jack had not been inclined to listen to her on that count. She sighed. After years of sailing with the pirate captain, Annamaria knew when to press a point and when to hold her peace – and this was one of the latter times.
Suddenly there was a loud bang from below the deck. Annamaria jumped a foot into the air and grabbed for the wheel to steady herself. "Hendrikson! Go down there and see what the hell just happened!" she bellowed, and the Dutchman leaped to obey. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths to calm her nerves. She remembered with sudden, frightening clarity that the young girl prisoner had been alone with Jack in his cabin, and that sound had been far too much like a pistol shot for her comfort... She forced herself to be calm, to stop thinking that the crazy girl might have shot Jack. Her captain was a very good shot. He could take care of himself. But still...
Her nerves were calmed when Hendrikson returned, looking perfectly normal. "What was that?" demanded Annamaria as the Dutchman drew near her post.
Hendrikson bit back a grin. He was pretty sure that he knew what Annamaria's reaction would be, and he was quite looking forward to seeing it. "Captain Sparrow's teaching Miss Anna how to shoot." Having delivered his message, Hendrikson leaned back against the prow and watched the fireworks.
They were more than satisfactory. Annamaria screeched "WHAT?" and gave the wheel a savage yank, mindless of the direction the Pearl was headed in. Hendrikson reached out and readjusted the wheel – Annamaria let go of it, picked up a small stone from the deck, and hurled it out into the water. She stopped herself from pounding her foot on the deck just in time, and another bang rang out, making her lurch, grab for the prow, and let loose a stream of obscenities, directed mainly at Jack, but with a few choice words spared for Anna. Hendrikson tilted his head to catch the vivid words, a half-grin on his face at Annamaria's temper.
Finally she got herself under control and reached for the wheel again. "Ignore all that," she ordered Hendrikson. "It never happened." Her knuckles were white where she gripped the wheel – Hendrikson chortled under his breath. "You can go now." He made an exaggerated bow and obeyed. He couldn't wait to tell Gibbs about Annamaria's temper tantrum later today, some time when she wasn't around.