Disclaimer: see prologue.
Author's note: Thanks again for comments!
----
Chapter 2
Anamaria arrived at the town courtroom the next morning in a crowd of curious citizens. She had left Briggs snoring in the tavern following a night of serious drinking, and was dressed in as masculine a fashion as she could muster. With her hair tightly twisted and bound up underneath her hat, she blended in tolerably well with the other sailors come to watch the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow be sentenced.
With the room full, the guards in smart red arrived, lining the walls. Following them came a small group of naval officers in dress uniform. Anamaria, watching them, guessed the one with the longest wig would be the celebrated Admiral Norrington. For years now Norrington had been the pirates' plague, dedicating time and men to hunting down buccaneers across the Caribbean.
Once, Anamaria remembered, Jack Sparrow had talked of the Admiral. The two men had reluctantly spent time in each other's company - and Sparrow in Norrington's custody - during the episode which returned the Black Pearl to her captain. Sparrow had escaped, but afterwards spoke of Norrington with something approaching respect. The officer was, he said, a "good man".
Anamaria wondered whether Sparrow's opinion of the Admiral would have changed now, with the Pearl at the bottom of the sea.
"All rise!" came a voice, and the crowd straggled to its feet as the judge came in. Dressed in black, his face was stern and he surveyed the audience severely before sitting down.
Once everyone had squashed onto the court benches again, the judge rapped his gavel.
"Bring in the prisoner," he ordered.
There was a ripple of chatter, and all eyes turned to the door. Anamaria found herself digging her nails into her palms.
The door opened, and flanked by two guards, in shuffled Jack Sparrow.
They had shackled him with heavy iron cuffs at wrists and ankles, restricting his movements and cutting off the easy, rolling swagger Anamaria always associated with her old friend. His clothes were torn and dirty, and his head was bare. She wondered what had happened to his beloved tricorn hat.
The beads and other assorted decorations still hung in his dark matted hair, though, adding a light counterpoint to the low jangling of the chains. And, Anamaria was pleased to note, he held his head up high as they brought him in.
Sparrow was escorted into the dock, and the guards stood on either side of him. The judge rustled parchment, and peered down his nose at the prisoner.
"You are Jack Sparrow?"
Anamaria expected her friend to come back with a tart reminder of his position as captain; but instead he merely nodded.
"Aye, yr'honour."
"You have been brought here today charged with multiple crimes," continued the judge. "Piracy, murder, arson, escape from British custody, theft, robbery, and assault. You are charged with masquerading under false colours and obtaining goods and services by deception. Do you understand these charges?"
"Perfectly, yr'honour," said Sparrow.
"Call the first witness," the judge said.
The tall officer Anamaria had identified as Norrington stood, and came to the witness box.
"Admiral Norrington."
"Your Honour." Norrington's voice was clear and strong, and carried easily throughout the room.
"Can you identify this man?" asked the judge.
"Certainly. He is Jack Sparrow, by some known as 'captain'. A pirate."
The judge shuffled more paper. "And how was this man captured, Admiral?"
"The Royal Navy vessel the Dauntless was sailing thirty miles off Jamaica," said Norrington, his hands folded behind his back. "On the horizon we saw Sparrow's ship, the Black Pearl. She is - was - highly recognisable due to her black sails. We readied our cannon and approached."
The Admiral turned his glance towards Jack Sparrow.
"As we came towards the Black Pearl, she fired a shot broadside across our bows, which did not hit. We understood she was asking us to surrender, and returned fire. There was a close battle, during which some pirates boarded the Dauntless and some of our marines boarded the Pearl.
"By luck, we hit the mainmast of the Pearl, crippling her, and another shot must have hit below the waterline for shortly afterwards she began to list badly. We called upon Sparrow to surrender, and I believe he was contemplating it from the deck of the Black Pearl."
Norrington shifted his stance. "However just at that moment another shot was fired from the Dauntless, and her bow broke off, throwing some of her crew into the water. Sparrow called upon his men to cross to the Dauntless. Most did. Sparrow himself was in the process of swinging over the gap between the vessels when the remains of the Black Pearl exploded."
"Exploded?" the judge put in.
"Doubtless a powder keg, your honour," said Norrington. "That left the ship in ruins, and the survivors of her crew on board the Dauntless and in our custody."
"Thank you, Admiral." The judge looked hard at Sparrow. "Does the prisoner wish to say anything in his defence before I pronounce judgement?"
The audience's heads turned as one to the prisoner, who considered for a moment and nodded.
"Aye, I have." He shook off the restraining arms of his guards, and stood dignified in the dock. Anamaria, through her fear for her friend, found herself full of pride in his attitude.
"Thanks, Admiral," Sparrow began, the courtroom hushed to hear his voice though in fact there was little need. "You've given a fair account, and I can't ask more'n that. I confess I had an eye for the Dauntless, and I'd have had her too if there hadn't been that lucky shot of yours."
He paused. "Frankly, I'm not really sure why you bothered with this. I was sentenced to death here eight years back, and I'm sure you'll do the same again. I know there's no Will Turner to rescue me this time, since he headed back to England. But you know, mate - yr'honour - not all pirates are murdering thieves."
Sparrow turned to the audience. They were hanging on his every word, and he knew it. Anamaria knew he knew it, and knew this could well be Jack Sparrow's last, glorious stand, one to go down in the history books.
"I wanted the Dauntless. But I wanted her clean, and without any deaths. You'll have t'believe that, Admiral. Prob'ly won't get to say it again. The fun ain't in killing, it's in planning, savvy?"
Looking down at her hands twisted together, Anamaria found herself smiling bitterly. How she remembered Sparrow setting forth his idealistic, rose-tinted views of decent piracy - a world where pirates were tricksters and thieves but not murderers. In practice, he was perfectly aware that idealism could not survive, and all the crew of the Black Pearl had had blood on their swords at one time or another.
But he had loved, she remembered, preaching from the quarterdeck of his ship. He would lean on the helm and gesture with be-ringed hands, the beads in his hair clacking gently as he moved his head. The crew listened indulgently, because they knew the dreams would be forgotten for more realistic endeavours when sails were sighted on the horizon, and it would be all hands on deck to raise the sails and hurry after the other vessel.
Now, shackled and shabby, Sparrow gave out an earnest air of veracity. The Decent Pirate, a Good Man. Anamaria did not think it would save him.
"So, make it quick, eh?" Sparrow went on. "Old adversaries, and that?"
He sent a pleading look from his dark eyes to the Admiral, and stepped back to lean against the back of the dock.
"Is that all?" demanded the judge.
"Quite," said Sparrow, casually.
The judge rummaged amongst his things, and produced a black cap. The audience murmured - they knew what that cap meant. Anamaria knew what it meant too.
"Jack Sparrow," said the judge, seriously, "The sentence of this court is that you have been found guilty of many and heinous crimes. You shall be taken from this court to a place of execution, where you shall be hanged by the neck until dead. May God have mercy on your soul."
She closed her eyes, and blinked back the tears.
Author's note: Thanks again for comments!
----
Chapter 2
Anamaria arrived at the town courtroom the next morning in a crowd of curious citizens. She had left Briggs snoring in the tavern following a night of serious drinking, and was dressed in as masculine a fashion as she could muster. With her hair tightly twisted and bound up underneath her hat, she blended in tolerably well with the other sailors come to watch the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow be sentenced.
With the room full, the guards in smart red arrived, lining the walls. Following them came a small group of naval officers in dress uniform. Anamaria, watching them, guessed the one with the longest wig would be the celebrated Admiral Norrington. For years now Norrington had been the pirates' plague, dedicating time and men to hunting down buccaneers across the Caribbean.
Once, Anamaria remembered, Jack Sparrow had talked of the Admiral. The two men had reluctantly spent time in each other's company - and Sparrow in Norrington's custody - during the episode which returned the Black Pearl to her captain. Sparrow had escaped, but afterwards spoke of Norrington with something approaching respect. The officer was, he said, a "good man".
Anamaria wondered whether Sparrow's opinion of the Admiral would have changed now, with the Pearl at the bottom of the sea.
"All rise!" came a voice, and the crowd straggled to its feet as the judge came in. Dressed in black, his face was stern and he surveyed the audience severely before sitting down.
Once everyone had squashed onto the court benches again, the judge rapped his gavel.
"Bring in the prisoner," he ordered.
There was a ripple of chatter, and all eyes turned to the door. Anamaria found herself digging her nails into her palms.
The door opened, and flanked by two guards, in shuffled Jack Sparrow.
They had shackled him with heavy iron cuffs at wrists and ankles, restricting his movements and cutting off the easy, rolling swagger Anamaria always associated with her old friend. His clothes were torn and dirty, and his head was bare. She wondered what had happened to his beloved tricorn hat.
The beads and other assorted decorations still hung in his dark matted hair, though, adding a light counterpoint to the low jangling of the chains. And, Anamaria was pleased to note, he held his head up high as they brought him in.
Sparrow was escorted into the dock, and the guards stood on either side of him. The judge rustled parchment, and peered down his nose at the prisoner.
"You are Jack Sparrow?"
Anamaria expected her friend to come back with a tart reminder of his position as captain; but instead he merely nodded.
"Aye, yr'honour."
"You have been brought here today charged with multiple crimes," continued the judge. "Piracy, murder, arson, escape from British custody, theft, robbery, and assault. You are charged with masquerading under false colours and obtaining goods and services by deception. Do you understand these charges?"
"Perfectly, yr'honour," said Sparrow.
"Call the first witness," the judge said.
The tall officer Anamaria had identified as Norrington stood, and came to the witness box.
"Admiral Norrington."
"Your Honour." Norrington's voice was clear and strong, and carried easily throughout the room.
"Can you identify this man?" asked the judge.
"Certainly. He is Jack Sparrow, by some known as 'captain'. A pirate."
The judge shuffled more paper. "And how was this man captured, Admiral?"
"The Royal Navy vessel the Dauntless was sailing thirty miles off Jamaica," said Norrington, his hands folded behind his back. "On the horizon we saw Sparrow's ship, the Black Pearl. She is - was - highly recognisable due to her black sails. We readied our cannon and approached."
The Admiral turned his glance towards Jack Sparrow.
"As we came towards the Black Pearl, she fired a shot broadside across our bows, which did not hit. We understood she was asking us to surrender, and returned fire. There was a close battle, during which some pirates boarded the Dauntless and some of our marines boarded the Pearl.
"By luck, we hit the mainmast of the Pearl, crippling her, and another shot must have hit below the waterline for shortly afterwards she began to list badly. We called upon Sparrow to surrender, and I believe he was contemplating it from the deck of the Black Pearl."
Norrington shifted his stance. "However just at that moment another shot was fired from the Dauntless, and her bow broke off, throwing some of her crew into the water. Sparrow called upon his men to cross to the Dauntless. Most did. Sparrow himself was in the process of swinging over the gap between the vessels when the remains of the Black Pearl exploded."
"Exploded?" the judge put in.
"Doubtless a powder keg, your honour," said Norrington. "That left the ship in ruins, and the survivors of her crew on board the Dauntless and in our custody."
"Thank you, Admiral." The judge looked hard at Sparrow. "Does the prisoner wish to say anything in his defence before I pronounce judgement?"
The audience's heads turned as one to the prisoner, who considered for a moment and nodded.
"Aye, I have." He shook off the restraining arms of his guards, and stood dignified in the dock. Anamaria, through her fear for her friend, found herself full of pride in his attitude.
"Thanks, Admiral," Sparrow began, the courtroom hushed to hear his voice though in fact there was little need. "You've given a fair account, and I can't ask more'n that. I confess I had an eye for the Dauntless, and I'd have had her too if there hadn't been that lucky shot of yours."
He paused. "Frankly, I'm not really sure why you bothered with this. I was sentenced to death here eight years back, and I'm sure you'll do the same again. I know there's no Will Turner to rescue me this time, since he headed back to England. But you know, mate - yr'honour - not all pirates are murdering thieves."
Sparrow turned to the audience. They were hanging on his every word, and he knew it. Anamaria knew he knew it, and knew this could well be Jack Sparrow's last, glorious stand, one to go down in the history books.
"I wanted the Dauntless. But I wanted her clean, and without any deaths. You'll have t'believe that, Admiral. Prob'ly won't get to say it again. The fun ain't in killing, it's in planning, savvy?"
Looking down at her hands twisted together, Anamaria found herself smiling bitterly. How she remembered Sparrow setting forth his idealistic, rose-tinted views of decent piracy - a world where pirates were tricksters and thieves but not murderers. In practice, he was perfectly aware that idealism could not survive, and all the crew of the Black Pearl had had blood on their swords at one time or another.
But he had loved, she remembered, preaching from the quarterdeck of his ship. He would lean on the helm and gesture with be-ringed hands, the beads in his hair clacking gently as he moved his head. The crew listened indulgently, because they knew the dreams would be forgotten for more realistic endeavours when sails were sighted on the horizon, and it would be all hands on deck to raise the sails and hurry after the other vessel.
Now, shackled and shabby, Sparrow gave out an earnest air of veracity. The Decent Pirate, a Good Man. Anamaria did not think it would save him.
"So, make it quick, eh?" Sparrow went on. "Old adversaries, and that?"
He sent a pleading look from his dark eyes to the Admiral, and stepped back to lean against the back of the dock.
"Is that all?" demanded the judge.
"Quite," said Sparrow, casually.
The judge rummaged amongst his things, and produced a black cap. The audience murmured - they knew what that cap meant. Anamaria knew what it meant too.
"Jack Sparrow," said the judge, seriously, "The sentence of this court is that you have been found guilty of many and heinous crimes. You shall be taken from this court to a place of execution, where you shall be hanged by the neck until dead. May God have mercy on your soul."
She closed her eyes, and blinked back the tears.