Chapter Three

The cabin was dark, and all Corinne could see was the faint shadows cast on the faces of the crew from a single candle. Anyone who wanted a breath of fresh air was warned on pain of death not to wake the others.

She couldn't sleep; part of that was due to the infernal parrot across the room, which wouldn't stop singing its old pirate songs. Apparently, everyone else was used to it, but Corinne had had enough of the racket that thing was making.

"Shut your beak," she told it in a fierce whisper, picking up a piece of hardtack from the floor and throwing it in his general direction. Luckily, it didn't hit Mr. Cotton himself; who was snoring with his tongueless mouth partly open, but the parrot was no idiot either. It ducked, and then began singing louder.

The sun rose in a blaze of glory the next morning, giving off a golden glow to the sea surface, and a pink hue to the clouds that surrounded it.

Corinne stopped on her way out of the cabin to look; a disgruntled Anna Maria shoved her roughly out of the way.

"Get out of the doorway," she mumbled and then continued across the deck.

Corinne tore her eyes away from the beautiful sight and headed for the water barrel. She realized, to her astonishment, that there was almost no seasickness at all. A little queasiness hit her whenever the ship crested a large swell, but mostly she was fine.

Not that it would matter, for she would be free of these pirates soon. She was certain that as soon as they passed close by an English settlement, that Captain Jack Sparrow would let her ashore. If he didn't, she'd find some way to alert all of the British settlements living anywhere near the Caribbean. Somehow...somehow she'd manage it.

The water tasted cool to her dry, cracked lips, and helped her swollen tongue to shrink somewhat. But it would not satisfy the gnawing hunger that ate away at her insides. She approached the galley, where the first mate – Mr. Gibbs, she thought she'd heard him called – was handing out what little was left of their food. Apparently, the Black Pearl hadn't been near a food or water supply in a while. He scowled at her as she stepped up to receive her share, but he still gave her what he rationed everyone else.

Her dress, after having to scrub the decks on her hands and knees the day before, was a shambles. It wasn't meant to be used in such a hard fashion, and now its light beige print was stained with dirt, sweat, and blood – she'd encountered a previous fight scene where the loser hadn't been so lucky as to leave conscious. Anna Maria had told her that.

She didn't wish to look at her reflection in the water, but as her hands reached what had been an orderly hairdo, she grimaced. So much for being presentable. But then again, she still looked much nicer and more refined than everyone on this tub combined. Perhaps that was because she was...even if, for an English woman, she happened to look atrocious.

The glare of the sun bouncing off the waves did not yet hurt her eyes, as the sun was barely over the horizon and it was still warming up. But she noticed something else on the horizon, slightly to the north of the rising sun.

"Is that a ship?" she asked, turning to one of the crewmembers. It was Mr. Cotton. His eyes flicked to the parrot, which leaned slightly forward. "Dead men tell no tales," it squawked quietly. Apparently the bird hadn't forgiven her for interrupting its concert the night before. Corinne sighed in disgust and stepped up to the captain, who raised his eyebrows and waited for her to say something.

"Is that a ship coming?" she asked, pointing to the small white speck that was heading their way.

Sparrow looked to where she indicated, and nodded. "Yes. Why?"

"Is it a British ship?"

"I would assume so, since rarely does another kind of ship appear in these waters...well, except for the Pearl."

"Then I demand to be released into the custody of that ship. Let me go with them, and I'll trouble you with my presence no more."

"Is there anything else you'd like to demand, Miss Young?" he responded, leaning against the outer cabin wall. "I suggest you get comfortable, luv, because until we can be rid of you without risking harm to ourselves, you are staying on this ship."

Corinne was so angry she couldn't even cry. She just glared daggers at the abominable man who refused even to set her free when she had the chance. How would it endanger him? He could just sail away and she'd tell them not to shoot at the pirates. They'd listen to her; after all, her father was a respected, esteemed member of the English Parliament. She had connections. Well, she would if she could just figure out a way to get off this confounded ship.

Jack looked out over the sea, his eyes having long since grown accustomed to the glint the sunlight reflected off the water. He fingered the braids that grew from his chin. The blue sky showed no hint of a storm nearby; only white puffy clouds and a few gulls off in the distance. He truly loved the sea. If nothing else had persuaded him to be a pirate (besides the urge to resist all authority and the dazzling treasure he now possessed), the beauty of the ocean had called to him. He was by no means an art lover, or someone who felt that nature was to be looked at and not touched. If anything, he felt that nature was to be used as much to one's advantage as it could provide.

But nature was beautiful. Even if he cared nothing for it, it was fascinating.

His eyes drifted to the young woman who stood on deck, watching her only hope of escape sail in another direction. No tears glistened on her cheeks...but he suspected that it was only because she was beyond that point now. No matter. Anyone who was stupid enough to let a hostage go within range of another ship deserved to be fired upon. And he was not that stupid.

But Gibbs stepped up beside him. "We could let that English woman go in a life boat...she isn't doing anything here except using up our food and water."

Jack thought a moment and looked at his first mate. "I'm inclined to say no anyways...but I have a feeling that you're right. If she can row, that is. If not, she'll get a crash course in it."

The small rowboat made a slight splash as it plopped into the blue- green waters of the Caribbean. Corinne peered up at the captain, who waved cheerfully.

"Farewell, Miss Young...and may we never meet again."

"The same to you, Jack Sparrow."

"Captain, if you please, miss."

"As you wish...Captain Sparrow." She said no more, but put all her effort into rowing her way towards the British naval vessel.

Water splashed over the sides of the tiny boat, and several times Corinne thought she would be swept overboard. But it held its integrity, and within an hour, the ship had spotted her. She heard shouts coming from the British sailors, indicating that they would send another skiff her way. Finally, after her weak arms would function no more, she set down the oars and watched as a brave young lieutenant commanded his boat towards her.

"Thank you...thank you so much," she panted, exhausted from the physical exertion. The officer just nodded and tied her boat to his. Then they began rowing back to the ship.

Jack watched the small figure collapse in the bottom of her boat as the Brits hauled her in.

"There she goes...the only hostage we've ever been glad to be rid of."

Gibbs shook his head. "I have a feeling that we're not rid of her yet. People like that tend to turn up like a bad penny."

"That's what I'm afraid of." Replied the captain.

"I was captured by pirates," Corinne explained. "They made me work and fed me on terrible rations. And they stole my things from the ship."

"What ship?" the British captain asked.

"The Jupiter," she replied. "A merchant vessel...and they took many things from the rest of the ship too." She ground her fist into her palm. "If I ever catch Jack Sparrow again, I'll - "

"Whom did you just mention?" the captain was suddenly interested.

"Jack Sparrow. Why? Is he famous?"

"Infamous, is what. He's the most ruthless, elusive pirate in these waters and perhaps around the world. If you can provide information of his whereabouts, we'd be grateful."

Corinne shook her head. "I don't know about that...but the parrot was a cheek."