Disclaimer: Hello. This is my story, but yes, it's true: Much of the stuff in the story isn't exactly mine. That is to say that I… well, it's like… Look, over there, a distraction! The author sneaks away before anyone can sue her over something silly...
Chapter 18: He Who Laughs
The Dauntless had by now heaved to and brought its guns to bear on Murphy's burgundy-hued vessel… but too late.
The Lux Fortunaque Mundi had started putting distance between the two ships while the Dauntless' crew were still reeling with surprise at how easily their commanding officer had been apprehended. By the time they began to give chase, the naval ship had another problem to deal with: the Pearl had come about while everyone had been concerned with Murphy's ship and was now preparing to fire on the Dauntless. Seeing that things were being well-taken care of all around, Jack's mood was improved even greater. Though, of course, he was hoping that Murphy wouldn't notice the animosity between the Pearl and the supposedly "fake" military ship.
"Where are the Turners?" Norrington finally managed to ask.
"Turners?" Murphy shook his head, a rather absent-minded gesture since he was preoccupied thinking about his own sudden turn of good fortune.
"The little'un's parents," Jack explained quickly. Motioning toward Norrington, who still stood awkwardly with the baby, unsure what to do with it, Jack went on delicately, "He's not too happy about your little mistake in kidnappin' the whelp. Are ye, Commodore?"
The commodore was aware that Jack was still manipulating him, but he couldn't think of any way to respond that would win him some control back. It didn't matter that he said nothing, though, for Jack spared him hardly a second of attention anyway.
Jack turned away just as quickly as he had turned to him, leaned forward and said in a low voice to Murphy, "I wouldn't want to upset him, if I were you. He's a little… ye know." He tapped his forehead and made an appropriate grimace. "Just a little, though, no worries. But, er... best call him 'Commodore.' He likes that."
Murphy's eyes shone with comprehension of two points. Firstly, Jack had all but just admitted that this man was, in fact, the Lux. Secondly, if he was going to pry favors from the Lux, he was definitely going to want him to be on his side.
Murphy fidgeted with his beard reflexively as he considered these things. He was trying to stare thoughtfully at Norrington without Norrington realizing that he was staring thoughtfully at him. Finally, Murphy gave up and stared at Jack instead. Then he looked as though he would say something, but he realized that they were standing on the open deck of his ship, where any of his crew could overhear.
Executing an awkward half-bow in Norrington's direction to take leave of him, Murphy pulled Jack aside into his map room. "Now," he began, "why are ye lettin' me ha' th' Lux, Jack? Are ye… finished w' 'im?"
"Finished?" Jack repeated, clearly amused about something. "Aye, I'm finished with the commodore."
Murphy leaned closer, and with a conspiratorial lift of one bushy red eyebrow, asked, "Wha'd ye need 'im fer, Jack? Take o'er a small islan' soomwhar whi'st I were'n lookin'?"
"That was always your dream, wunnit, mate?" Jack said, still grinning. "No, I jus'… decided I didn't need the old fool. Too much power for me to handle. Nah, ye're welcome to 'im. Let me know how your island thing turns out, aye?"
Murphy drew himself up pridefully and began to say something, but he withheld himself. He merely nodded acknowledgement of Jack's words instead.
Jack went on, "Now, to keep 'im happy, ye'll just want to fix your little mistake and give the whelp back to 'is parents, right? Well, ye're in luck; ol' Jack can fix ye right up. I happen to have a couple of Turners stashed on me ship just now. All you have to do is give the Pearl a chance to take leave of the other ship, then we'll rendezvous with them, see? Then I'll just scurry right back over to the Pearl, take the little dupe with me, and leave ye to your business with, er-- with your Lux. Aye?" Take leave of the Dauntless indeed. Jack was hoping his crew would properly maim the naval ship before they deigned to leave the area.
Murphy's suspicion of Jack's motives in being so accommodating was eaten up by his stronger faith that Jack was merely being friendly. So for his own part, Murphy was well pleased with the arrangement, and well pleased that Jack apparently still thought of him as much a comrade as they had been when they had been shipmates. From Jack's view of things, he was pleased Murphy had bought the lines he'd fed him, but he was also somewhat disappointed. The Murphy he remembered was rather a shrewder fellow than the man standing before him now. Murphy had either mellowed considerably in the past years, or else he had something on his mind that was distracting him.
Nonetheless, Murphy and Jack shook hands on their deal, and that was that.
Jack was more than eager to be back aboard the Pearl. By the time he thought it was safe to pull out his compass and give Murphy directions to find his ship again, convinced they'd had plenty of time to get well away from the Dauntless, it was already late in the morning. It was well after noon by the time the Pearl finally came into view. Luckily, Jack's crew had guessed he'd find his way back to them if they gave him a chance, and they were sitting in the water with sails furled waiting on him to show. Jack knew well the speed his own ship was capable of, and knew he'd have never caught them if they hadn't been waiting for him.
He vowed to find some subtle way to repay his first mate or the Turners or … well, whoever it was who had decided to hold a steady position until he found them. Because if he had to put up with much more of this, he'd go mad from suppressing laughter for too long.
All day long, with thin restraint, he watched the comedy being acted out by the commodore and Murphy.
Feeling rather silly and inadequate for the job of babysitter, Norrington finally decided he could trust somebody else to hold the baby while he waited for the pirates to find the Turners, as Murphy promised they would. The young lad whom Murphy brought forward to watch after the baby, however, was of a nervous, jittery sort and constantly stammered out questions and suggestions, such as "Mightn't 'ee be 'ungry, sir? Shall I gi' 'im summat?" or "P'raps 'ee's tired, sir? Shall I put 'im a-bed?"
But if having the boy bothering him weren't enough, Norrington had to put up with Murphy as well. The great red man never made any effort to put the commodore in chains or take him below to lock him up somewhere as a prisoner. Instead, he treated him like royalty. Murphy offered his guest all manner of food and drink; he brought forward some of his crew members to polish the commodore's shoes; he had satin cushions brought up for him to sit on, then sent them away to be traded for silk ones; he even had the feather in the commodore's hat replaced with a shimmering blue-and-gold plume of peacock feathers. Norrington was baffled, but he guessed, correctly, that if he were to say that he was not, in fact, this Lux character, things would take a sudden nosedive for the worst.
Such was the scene Jack gladly left when he was finally able to cross back onto his own ship, carefully cradling the Turners' child. He would only have to keep up his charade for a few minutes longer, and then he could laugh all he wanted. He relinquished the baby back into the hands of his parents, who showered Jack with gratitude and the baby with kisses. Then Jack waved and yelled a wish for good luck back across to Murphy, and wished the commodore farewell and safe journeys.
In high spirits, he turned then and headed up toward the poop deck.
His grin faltered, though, when he finally noticed Gwen. The smile she wore was an odd mix of relief to have him back on board and belated gratitude at the risks he'd taken to rescue her earlier that morning. But her eyes were gloomy with the knowledge that relief and gratitude were not enough to mend their broken bond. Jack stared back at her for a long moment. Neither moved; they just shared the sad silence as they both acknowledged the rift that was still between them. Jack swallowed compulsively a few times, and then, with a little jolt, walked past her and up to the helm.
It was scarcely a few minutes later, while Jack was in this somewhat depleted mood, that word came down that another ship had been sighted. The Lux Fortunaque Mundi, still nearby but a third of a league closer to the incoming vessel, had in fact sighted it first, and had signaled good-naturedly to the Black Pearl to share the information. As soon as it came within sight of the Pearl's lookout, the new ship was identified as the Gilder, Anamaria's ship.
Jack scowled as he watched the blonde-wood ship approach. AnaMaria had willingly stayed behind to reassure the Romans and keep things under control from that end until Jack returned to Rome deal with the Romans. If she was here, it meant two things that were certain: First, she had to have at least Gaius, the Roman commander, aboard with her, for he and his compass would be the only way AnaMaria could have ever located the Black Pearl. Second, no matter why she was here now, it could only mean that there was trouble.
As he would soon find out, Jack was right on both counts.
The Gilder maneuvered carefully up alongside the Pearl, just close enough to throw a stone at one's hull from the deck of the other. This Jack allowed since AnaMaria was his ally, but he put his crew on alert nonetheless. His suspicions were justified, for no sooner had the Gilder sidled up beside them, than a figure hidden in the smaller ship's rigging revealed himself suddenly. He swooped out on a line over the short distance between the ships and landed heavily but neatly on the deck of the Pearl.
"Mr. Sparrow!" Gaius called up to the poop deck, his voice ringing with the accent of his native Latin tongue and with a deadly urgency. He had donned modern apparel while in Rome; he hadn't changed from these clothes, but he had put his mantle back on over the shirt and trousers.
"I?" Jack answered, coming down to the half-deck to confront the unsolicited visitor.
"The fleet is close behind," he said, speaking quickly. Lapsing back into Latin in his haste, he went on, "They are ready for battle. I must have the Lux."
Jack paused on the stairs, frowning as he worked on translating the man's words in his mind.
"Estne ea ubi?" Gaius demanded impatiently when Jack didn't respond quickly enough. Realizing his slipping tongue then, he repeated in English, "Where is she?"
"Ye can't have her until ye explain why--"
"There is no time for that now." Gaius was distracted then by a movement. Some of the Pearl's crew had been hiding Gwen, trying to appear nonchalant about it, while Gwen tried slowly sneaking towards the stairs to go below decks. But Gaius spotted her.
Suddenly, the Roman pulled a pistol from somewhere within his cloak. He pointed it at Jack and called out toward where he now knew Gwen to be, "Come with me or I will shoot him."
Judging from the clumsy way that Gaius was holding the weapon, Jack seriously doubted the man actually knew how to use it. He was willing to gamble on that supposition. But Gwen had already, reluctantly, begun to go to Gaius, her eyes shifting between Jack and the erstwhile gunman.
"Gwen… don't," Jack ordered.
"I will shoot," Gaius repeated.
"And probably miss," Jack said. "Gwen, don't let him take ye; back away, now." Jack began descending the stairs again while he spoke, preparing to take down the Roman before he could fire a shot.
"He might miss, but I won't," called out a familiar voice.
Jack paused and turned to look across to the Gilder. "AnaMaria," he said slowly. His tone was exactly the same tone that a sailor uses to chastise a seagull who has just sullied a freshly-swabbed deck.
AnaMaria gestured slightly with the carbine she held pointed at Jack. Ignoring Jack, though, she looked past to Gwen and said, "Come along, Gwen, you don't want me to do this."
Gwen hesitated, but really there was nothing else she could do other than allow Gaius to swing her back onto the Gilder with him. Gwen avoided Jack's eyes, but he could see she was biting down fiercely on her lower lip. She crossed silently to the waiting Roman commander, obediently took hold of the rope and allowed him to wrap one arm around her.
Jack watched, uncomfortable and angered with his helplessness in this situation, as she was swept off the deck of the Black Pearl and over to the Gilder. Her feet scarcely touched the deck there before the Roman hustled her into the map room and shut the door firmly behind them. Jack glanced back at AnaMaria.
"Sorry, Jack," she began.
Jack cut her off with a rude gesture before she could continue. Sorry indeed. There was one thing about Jack's sort of friends that could be both a good thing or a bad thing, depending on the situation: they always did what was right by them. That coupled with the fact that all of Jack's friends had a price for which they would do just about anything and well... where did loyalty fit into all that?
Jack scowled as he wondered what AnaMaria had been promised as a reward for helping Gaius find Gwen. And what dastardly deeds the Roman and his fleet were going to make Gwen do for them.
Murphy stepped back, lowering his spyglass, his expression one of enlightenment mixed with an offended frown at what he had just observed passing between the Black Pearl and the Gilder. How clearly he understood everything now.