Disclaimer: N is for Not much here is mine. O is for Only Gwen and Murphy and a few other tidbits are actually mine. S is for Ships, of which there are plenty here. U is for Unrelated things, like teriyaki stir-fry. E is for Everyone who reads this. M is for Me, the author. And E is for Enjoy.
A/N: This is an author's note with no real purpose, other than to warn you that in the future you should disregard author's notes with no real purpose other than to warn you of something.
Chapter 17: He Said Not a Word
"Morning, Commodore. Rough seas, eh?"
Norrington offered only a tight, mirthless smile at the greeting.
Ignoring the commodore's lack of small talk then, Jack turned to the nearest two soldiers (besides those standing at both sides and behind him, guarding him). "You there," he called out to a pair who were working untangling and stowing the net they had caught him in. "Fetch me my irons. I'll have whichever pair has the longest chain and the least rust. They chafe otherwise." Turning back to Norrington for a moment, he asked, "What'll you have?" He didn't allow for a response, however, but turned again to call back to the sailors, "And the commodore would like some rum and a few apples to break his fast."
"Mr. Sparrow," Norrington said, acting as though Jack hadn't spoken at all, "Might I venture to ask what you're doing in this part of the world?"
"So are ye asking me, or are ye still working on the 'venturing' part?"
"Mr. Sparrow," Norrington scolded sternly, not at all in the mood for the pirate's silly games.
"Captain-- that's Captain Sparrow," Jack put in, then went on quickly before Norrington could comment on proper titles and how they were won. "We're... on holiday. Lovely scenery around here. Odd weather though, eh?"
Odd weather indeed. An odd tingle ran up Jack's spine at what it could mean: a sudden squall, from completely nonexistent to nothing more than a memory in the space of less than half an hour?
Over Norrington's shoulder, Jack could see the Pearl. He estimated it was at least half a league away. The Pearl and the Dauntless were now facing in almost exactly opposite directions, and with a glance up at the sails, Jack saw that the winds were in the Dauntless' favor if Norrington decided to leave the area. The Pearl would have to heave about a hundred-eighty degrees in order to give chase.
"Indeed" was Norrington's only reply to Jack's comments.
Jack eyed the rail on the starboard side of the Dauntless, a good twelve feet from where he stood now. If he was quick, and timed it just right, he could jump overboard. But his irons arrived in the next second after the thought occurred to him, brought by the man Norrington had sent after them while soldiers were still trying to untangle Jack's hair from the net they'd caught him with. Abandoning that simple first plan as useless now, Jack quickly thought of another.
"The Mediterranean's a bit far for ye, isn't it, Commodore?" Jack began as the British sailors clapped the manacles around his wrists. He didn't give time for Norrington to comment, but pressed on, "Ye wouldn't be searching for a kidnapper, by chance, would ye?"
Norrington, who had been about to order Jack to be taken away from his presence, now frowned even harder at the pirate. "What do you know of Mr. and Mrs. Turner?"
"The Turners?" he repeated dumbly. "Oh, that daft pair that wouldn't let ye hang me that one time... Didn't they have a son, Bilbo, or Henry, or something?"
"I grow tired of your games, Mr. Sparrow. Do you know where they are or not?"
"Can't say I do. But--"
Jack was interrupted when a shout came down from the look-outs. There was a third ship in the area now, just sighted.
Jack turned toward the horizon. The faint form materializing there seemed, even at the distance, to be reddish in hue. Jack quickly abandoned this second plan and began to hatch a third.
Murphy was on his way now. It was probably by accident, Jack would wager; Murphy had probably been knocked off-course by the storm (which Jack was by now certain had been summoned by Gwen herself, since that was the only plausible explanation for it). In a matter of two or three seconds, Jack flicked through an inventory of the three ships.
The Dauntless: Jack was on it, wanted off it. Norrington wanted Brant, whom he thought wasa kidnapper,and the Turners on it.
The Black Pearl: Jack wanted to be there. Brant and the Turners were there. Gwen was there. The Turners wanted their son to be there as well.
The Lux Fortunaque Mundi, Murphy's red-painted ship: The little Turner was there; he needed to be returned to the Pearl. The person Murphy really wanted to be aboard his own ship was Gwen.
Jack took the action that seemed the most obvious to him. Turningback to Norrington, and pointing toward the red ship on the horizon he said, "I know that ship, Commodore, and 'er captain. Ye'll want to ask him about the Turners, no doubt."
"Why?"
"'E's got 'em."
"Two ships, Cap'n. One's the Pearl."
Murphy toyed with his thick red beard, squinting at the tiny ships they were approaching. The nearer vessel was obviously Jack's treasured black ship. "And th' other?" Murphy questioned his crewman.
"Skip thinks it's naval, by its colors."
A sudden wail penetrated the pensive moment. Murphy turned towards a young cabin boy. "Don' jes stan' thair!" he said irritably. The boy leapt to his feet and scooted off toward the source of the cries. Of all the crew, the young fellow was one of only a few who could manage the babe at all.
That nuisance at least temporarily taken care of, Murphy focused again on the Black Pearl. He'd been mistaken, he had realized by now, in kidnapping the baby. The little whelp was clearly no more than just an average baby. But if Murphy had had any doubt at all that Jack still had the real Lux on board his ship, now he knew for certain: he was aboard the Black Pearl. The freak storm that had just blown through had baffled his entire crew. But now, to happen upon Jack's ship like this right in the area that had been the focus of the gale, Murphy knew the Lux had to have been the cause of the storm, and had to be on board the…
Murphy hesitated. The Lux was on one of the ships ahead, that much was certain. But that didn't necessarily mean the Pearl. Perhaps he was on the other ship. That could be why both ships were here like this: Jack was conferring with the Lux.
As they drew nearer to the two ships ahead, Murphy was justified when, through a spyglass, he espied Jack, not on the Black Pearl's deck, but aboard the other ship. This second ship, Murphy would admit, did look awfully like a naval vessel. Its crew even wore surprisingly realistic uniforms. Jack, that ambitious little devil! He'd gone to extensive ends, it seemed, to hide and disguise the Lux, to keep his unnatural talents all to himself-- even going so far as to masquerade an entire ship. Excellent idea, Murphy thought. If he hadn't seen Jack talking with the men aboard the vessel so affably-- in a word, if he hadn't seen it for himself, he certainly wouldn't have ever thought to search what appeared to be a ship belonging to the English Royal Navy.
Trust his old shipmate Jack to be so wily. And go even so far as to set up a rendezvous this far out on the sea, yes… When this was all over, he'd have to commend Jack. Curse him for interfering; there were things far more important to need a Lux's aid for than whatever conquering schemes Jack might have in mind. But he'd have to commend Jack nonetheless.
Norrington nodded toward the lieutenant hovering nearby with the keys still in hand. The lieutenant stepped forward obediently, though he didn't appear happy with his orders, and unlocked Jack's manacles.
"Now," Jack went on, unfazed, "so long as Murphy's convinced ye're friendly to, er… my operations, he'll gladly turn over the Turners." Jack hoped so, anyway. By now, he assumed, Murphy would have had plenty of time to figure out the Turners' baby, precious though he was to his parents, was just a baby. The only kink in Jack's plan now was the simple fact that Norrington and his ship looked far too much like a stuffy naval commodore and a stuffy naval ship. Well, then there wasthe fact that only one of the three Turners was actually aboard Murphy's ship when he was trying to convince Norrington all of them were there... bah, minor details. Jack would figure that out as he went along.
"Mr. Sparrow, what is it exactly that you intend to gain from this escapade?"
Ah, so Norrington was suspicious of Jack's volunteering to lead negotiations with a fellow law-breaking captain? Jack frowned. Norrington was entirely too predictable. Jack risked a glance toward the approaching vessel. It was just passing the Pearl, and nearing the Dauntless. He could see Murphy's crew furling sails and scampering about to trim back speed on the approach. As for the Pearl-- they were struggling against to turn the ship about and get the wind to the aft rather than astern. No matter; if things went off well, perhaps he wouldn't needhis crew to help outjust now.
"Why, Commodore, do ye doubt me? I only hope to save sweet young innocence from the tyrannical hands of an evil man," Jack said in a very grandiose manner, flashing a gold-rimmed grin at him. "And perhaps save the baby as well," he muttered under his breath, turning to cast a more pointed look at the approaching burgundy ship. "Now," he said aloud, "here's what we'll do: Allyou have to do is play along. And I'll just ask Captain Murphy to return the Turners to ye. What say ye?"
Norrington looked as if he were about to say something, but Jack cut in again, lowering his voice conspiratorially and affecting a more insistent tone. "But whatever ye do, if Murphy brings up the Lux, deny anything he says, aye? Actually, ye know what, just let me do all the talking, savvy? Don't do anything stupid, Commodore." So saying, Jack suddenly looked rather cheerful, the same way that people tend to suddenly put on airs of everything being hunky-dory after just discussing grave matters.
It didn't seem to take very long before Murphy's ship came sliding up along the Dauntless' starboard side, only twenty-five or thirty feet away. "G'mairnin', Jack," came a call in a thick brogue.
Jack gave Norrington a significant look, a clear reminder that the commodore was not to violate the instructions he'd been given. Then the pirate turned to address the man who had called out.
"Murphy, ye dog, what brings ye here this morning?"
"A stairm of historical pr'partions, if ye un'erstan' m' meanin'," Murphy explained. It was clear to Norrington that the red-haired man's words were full of meaning; he was trying to draw something out of Mr. Sparrow.
"It was odd," was all Jack answered. "Listen, Murphy, this gentleman would appreciate the return of the Turners." Jack gestured toward Norrington appropriately at "gentleman."
Murphy didn't seem to notice the plural of the Turners. His eyes shifted from Jack to Norrington to the members of the Dauntless' crew behind them, and back again. He motioned to one of his own crew members behind him. "I migh' be persuaded t' trade fer 'im," Murphy called back. A young lad appeared just behind Murphy and to one side, looking a bit uncomfortable with his task and cradling a bundle of blankets in his arms.
"Trade? Trade for what?" Jack asked innocently.
"Ye're not an 'alf-wit, Jack; ye know why I took 'im, don' ye?"
"The whelp isn't the one ye're looking for, Murphy," Jack said.
"Tha' I know now. But 'oo is, then?"
"I don't know."
"Jack. Jack," Murphy drawled. "Ye trus' me, don' ye? After all this time we've known a'chother. Don' ye trus' tha' I have good reasons? I wan' the Lux fer a good cause o' mine. I know ye know 'oo 'e is. Tell me. An' we'll trade, whelp fer Lux, aye?"
Norrington started to speak up, but he was quickly silenced by Captain Sparrow, who cleared his throat very loudly and threw a nervous but stern look at the commodore. Norrington was no fool. He didn't know where Will and Elizabeth were, or what the two men were talking about. But he knew better than to follow any plan laid down by a pirate, and he knew better than to trust an outlaw. If Mr. Sparrow was so adamant that he not mention the Lux, whatever it meant to him and this Captain Murphy, it could only mean that the pirate hoped to gain something for himself by avoiding the subject. Therefore, by simple logic, it made perfect sense that if he, as commodore and military leader here, wanted to maintain control of this situation, he would have to reject Sparrow's suggestions.
"I don't know," Jack was saying, "I swear on my eleventh tattoo. Just give us the baby here, and then you and I can worry about the bloody Lux, aye? Just--"
"I am the Lux, Captain Murphy," Norrington interrupted imperiously, stepping forward. Judging by Murphy's instantaneous reaction to this statement, Norrington knew he'd done the right thing.
"Ignore him!" Jack said desperately, dashing in front of Norrington and waving his arms. "He's mad. Cousin of a friend's oldest uncle's son.Likes to masquerade as a Commodore, see? Mad! Look at the poorly-made fake uniforms!" He popped a button off Norrington's chest and waved it at Murphy as evidence. But neither Murphy nor Norrington were paying much attention to Jack's protestations. Besides which, Murphy, for his part, was already convinced that the uniforms were fake anyway.
"Return young William Turner to me, and his parents," Norrington commanded, unaware of the fact that his wording made it sound as though "the parents" were with him.
Murphy was struck with a sort of awestruck humility that comes when someone very suddenly and unexpectedly meets a childhood hero or a previously faceless savior. "Lux, Yer Lor'ship, whatever 'tis ye're called, ye're welcome to do as ye like wi' the babe," he said.
With smug conceit, Norrington quickly arranged to cross over on a hastily-rigged gangplank and collect the child and have his parents surrendered to him as well. He was received aboard with a series of bows from Murphy. The red-haired captain motioned and glared at his crew until they followed suit, paying obeisance to him. "The Turners," Norrington reminded condescendingly.
"Whatever ye wish," Murphy said. He motioned toward the boy still holding the Turner child. He also motioned to other crew members above and behind him, but Norrington didn't catch those motions, as he was busy awkwardly accepting the bundled baby from the lad.
If Jack had known that, several hundred years later, a device would be created that would allow people to capture priceless moments in order to cherish them forever-- if such a fantastic contrivance as a camera had been available, he would have given up rum for a solid week to have one just then. When Norrington turned and saw that Jack had easily fought off the soldiers who tried to restrain him on the Dauntless, had crossed over to Murphy's ship behind him, and had kicked the gangplank out after crossing-- when Norrington realized that Murphy was making haste to get his ship away from the Dauntless, and that there were no more Turners in evidence-- there was a precise moment in there somewhere when he looked at Jack, with the baby still in his arms, and an expression on his face that said he realized that he'd been had. In trying to second-guess the devious pirate, he'd ended up following Jack's plan exactly as the blasted villain had intended.
It would have been a Kodak moment, if only this story could have managed enough anachronism to grant Jack a camera. Instead, Jack responded simply by grinning back at Norrington, gold teeth gleaming, and said not a word; it wasn't necessary.