Disclaimer: see prologue.
Author's note: This chapter inspired by what happened to Captain Kidd.
----
Chapter 3
The judge removed his cap, gathered together his papers and stood up.
"Wait."
The audience ceased muttering, all heads seeking for the speaker.
Admiral Norrington withdrew a piece of parchment from his uniform and unfolded it.
"I do apologise, your honour," he said, in a tone that showed he was not at all sorry for whatever it was he was excusing. "I should have mentioned this before. It makes, of course, no difference to your verdict; the pirate shall hang. But I am recalled to London, and they ask that a prisoner be brought to hang on Execution Dock."
"London?" said the judge.
"England?" asked Sparrow, earning himself a cuff around the ear from a guard.
"It is a strange request, I grant you," Norrington agreed. "Yet there it is. I shall explain that Sparrow has been tried here in Port Royal, and there will be no need for a retrial at the Bailey. But they wish him to be displayed on the dock, as an example." He looked across the courtroom at the prisoner. "It occurred to me that someone of the … notoriety of Mr Sparrow would suit the request admirably."
The judge frowned down his nose. "This is highly irregular, Admiral. He should be hung here in Fort Charles, and displayed on Gallows Point. How do you propose to transport him back to England?"
"In the brig of the Dauntless, of course," said Norrington. "And the town will have their hangings. There are ten survivors of the Black Pearl in our gaol at present. They shall hang, and their captain shall have to wait awhile for his death. These are my orders, your honour, as the naval commander in the Caribbean."
He saluted the judge, and left the courtroom briskly to a renewed burst of chatter.
Anamaria raised her head and watched as Jack Sparrow was led out. Her friend looked faintly surprised, but only to one who knew him well. To the rest of the world, he bore a half-smile and even made bold enough to banter with his guards as they took him back to his cell.
She made her way out with the rest of the crowd, who were discussing the events of the trial with gusto. Some seemed disappointed they would be deprived of the hanging of Jack Sparrow, but most philosophically reflected that at least they would have the other executions to look forward to.
As soon as she could, Anamaria detached herself from the townsfolk and hurried to a quiet alleyway, where her stomach unclenched and voided itself of its contents.
The situation was, she knew, hopeless. She was one woman, with a drunken ex-pirate to help, and she had a matter of days - possibly even hours - in which to spring him from Fort Charles and get him to safety. If she failed, there was no ship left in the Caribbean which could reasonably give the majestic Dauntless a good chase, or match her in firepower. That meant Sparrow would be on his way to England, and either Newgate or Marshalsea prisons. Both were rumoured to be filthy, disease-ridden places, and nigh impossible to break out of.
Anamaria straightened, and wiped her mouth with the edge of her sleeve. Time to wake Briggs and tell him the news.
"No bloody surprise," Briggs said, over stew in the tavern a short while later. "Look, lo … Anamaria, he's guilty as hell. You an' I both know it. He's a pirate."
"I will not see him hang!" she hissed.
"Then let's go back to Tortuga, and you won't have t'," Briggs pointed out, reasonably.
"Oh …" she glared at him. "Connard! Go back to Tortuga if you want."
She slammed down her mug of ale and stormed upstairs to fetch her belongings.
Half an hour later, with her hair loose and a bright skirt wrapped around her waist - over her breeches - Anamaria presented herself at Fort Charles wearing her best winning smile.
"I would like to see Jack Sparrow," she told the guards at the gate.
They looked at each other. "He's a prisoner," the fatter of the two guards pointed out.
"I know that. But I want to see him."
"Prisoners aren't allowed visitors," the thinner guard said. "You might be wanting to help him escape."
Anamaria managed a laugh. "I don't want to help him escape," she said. "I want to wish him a speedy hangin'."
"Like the rest of the town," the large guard agreed, sagely. "Well, you can't, miss."
The two men stepped in front of the gates and crossed bayonets.
For a moment, Anamaria contemplated drawing her concealed dagger and attacking, but she reflected it would probably not be a good plan. Instead, she sighed, and took out a small packet.
"Then can you get this to him, messieurs?"
The thin guard took the packet, and shook it. "What is it?" he asked.
"Ashes of an old friend," said Anamaria, willing herself to look honest. "Just tell 'im it's from Ana. He will understand."
"Right." The guard nodded. "Can do that. Sort of revenge, or something?"
She assented with a nod.
"Should we?" his companion questioned.
"Can't do no harm," the other said. They nodded at each other, satisfied. She gave them another smile and turned away. She had not expected to be able to see Sparrow, but at least she had succeeded in passing on her gift to him.
She took off the skirt in an alleyway, folding it into her bag. Drawing her knife, she contemplated it for a moment. With a sigh she took hold of a handful of long, dark hair in one hand, the dagger in the other, and she began to cut.
It proved easy enough, once she had cut her hair short and dressed herself in male clothes again, to get a place on one of the merchant ships leaving Port Royal within the week for England. Anamaria had always found that nobody looked too closely at her if she affected a deeper voice, wore a hat with a floppy brim, and did her work well. Sparrow had been one of the few who knew she was female and did not care.
Her ship, a stately brig named Lady Mary, was bound for the Port of London with a cargo of sugar, and was due to leave in four days. Whilst she was on board that evening, briskly scrubbing the decks, Anamaria looked up and saw the single sail of Briggs's Emmy slipping out to sea. She smiled, wryly, to herself. No turning back now.
On the afternoon before the Lady Mary's embarkation, the crowds gathered on the quayside and the Dauntless was busy with people. The sailors aboard Anamaria's ship downed tools and went to the rail to watch as Admiral Norrington, in full dress uniform, boarded his ship. The townsfolk cheered him as the boat left the quayside, and Norrington responded with a thin, brisk smile and a raised hand.
But the real celebrity was yet to come. Leaning on the rail, Anamaria gritted her teeth and watched as - surrounded by marines in red - Jack Sparrow was brought out to the Dauntless in chains. He had been given a clean shirt, though, and a shabby but brushed coat. As he looked around at the crowd, smiling his gilt-edged smile, Anamaria was pleased to see that his eyes were lined darkly. Her gift, the small package of kohl powder, had evidently reached her old friend.
A few people attempted to boo the prisoner, but for the most part the crowd remained silent, and merely watched as Sparrow was led into the longboat and rowed out to the vast ship.
Once the prisoner was on board, the guards took him below. Some sailors ran up the ratlines and unfurled the sails, whilst others raised the anchor. Slowly, the great ship moved out of the harbour.
"Some folk say he was the Caribbean's best pirate," one of Anamaria's crewmates observed.
"Good riddance," another said. "Can tell you I'll sleep easier this voyage, knowing the Black Pearl ain't out there to hunt us."
Anamaria went back to her work, praying for swift winds that would take the Lady Mary safe to England on the heels of the Dauntless and her captive.
Author's note: This chapter inspired by what happened to Captain Kidd.
----
Chapter 3
The judge removed his cap, gathered together his papers and stood up.
"Wait."
The audience ceased muttering, all heads seeking for the speaker.
Admiral Norrington withdrew a piece of parchment from his uniform and unfolded it.
"I do apologise, your honour," he said, in a tone that showed he was not at all sorry for whatever it was he was excusing. "I should have mentioned this before. It makes, of course, no difference to your verdict; the pirate shall hang. But I am recalled to London, and they ask that a prisoner be brought to hang on Execution Dock."
"London?" said the judge.
"England?" asked Sparrow, earning himself a cuff around the ear from a guard.
"It is a strange request, I grant you," Norrington agreed. "Yet there it is. I shall explain that Sparrow has been tried here in Port Royal, and there will be no need for a retrial at the Bailey. But they wish him to be displayed on the dock, as an example." He looked across the courtroom at the prisoner. "It occurred to me that someone of the … notoriety of Mr Sparrow would suit the request admirably."
The judge frowned down his nose. "This is highly irregular, Admiral. He should be hung here in Fort Charles, and displayed on Gallows Point. How do you propose to transport him back to England?"
"In the brig of the Dauntless, of course," said Norrington. "And the town will have their hangings. There are ten survivors of the Black Pearl in our gaol at present. They shall hang, and their captain shall have to wait awhile for his death. These are my orders, your honour, as the naval commander in the Caribbean."
He saluted the judge, and left the courtroom briskly to a renewed burst of chatter.
Anamaria raised her head and watched as Jack Sparrow was led out. Her friend looked faintly surprised, but only to one who knew him well. To the rest of the world, he bore a half-smile and even made bold enough to banter with his guards as they took him back to his cell.
She made her way out with the rest of the crowd, who were discussing the events of the trial with gusto. Some seemed disappointed they would be deprived of the hanging of Jack Sparrow, but most philosophically reflected that at least they would have the other executions to look forward to.
As soon as she could, Anamaria detached herself from the townsfolk and hurried to a quiet alleyway, where her stomach unclenched and voided itself of its contents.
The situation was, she knew, hopeless. She was one woman, with a drunken ex-pirate to help, and she had a matter of days - possibly even hours - in which to spring him from Fort Charles and get him to safety. If she failed, there was no ship left in the Caribbean which could reasonably give the majestic Dauntless a good chase, or match her in firepower. That meant Sparrow would be on his way to England, and either Newgate or Marshalsea prisons. Both were rumoured to be filthy, disease-ridden places, and nigh impossible to break out of.
Anamaria straightened, and wiped her mouth with the edge of her sleeve. Time to wake Briggs and tell him the news.
"No bloody surprise," Briggs said, over stew in the tavern a short while later. "Look, lo … Anamaria, he's guilty as hell. You an' I both know it. He's a pirate."
"I will not see him hang!" she hissed.
"Then let's go back to Tortuga, and you won't have t'," Briggs pointed out, reasonably.
"Oh …" she glared at him. "Connard! Go back to Tortuga if you want."
She slammed down her mug of ale and stormed upstairs to fetch her belongings.
Half an hour later, with her hair loose and a bright skirt wrapped around her waist - over her breeches - Anamaria presented herself at Fort Charles wearing her best winning smile.
"I would like to see Jack Sparrow," she told the guards at the gate.
They looked at each other. "He's a prisoner," the fatter of the two guards pointed out.
"I know that. But I want to see him."
"Prisoners aren't allowed visitors," the thinner guard said. "You might be wanting to help him escape."
Anamaria managed a laugh. "I don't want to help him escape," she said. "I want to wish him a speedy hangin'."
"Like the rest of the town," the large guard agreed, sagely. "Well, you can't, miss."
The two men stepped in front of the gates and crossed bayonets.
For a moment, Anamaria contemplated drawing her concealed dagger and attacking, but she reflected it would probably not be a good plan. Instead, she sighed, and took out a small packet.
"Then can you get this to him, messieurs?"
The thin guard took the packet, and shook it. "What is it?" he asked.
"Ashes of an old friend," said Anamaria, willing herself to look honest. "Just tell 'im it's from Ana. He will understand."
"Right." The guard nodded. "Can do that. Sort of revenge, or something?"
She assented with a nod.
"Should we?" his companion questioned.
"Can't do no harm," the other said. They nodded at each other, satisfied. She gave them another smile and turned away. She had not expected to be able to see Sparrow, but at least she had succeeded in passing on her gift to him.
She took off the skirt in an alleyway, folding it into her bag. Drawing her knife, she contemplated it for a moment. With a sigh she took hold of a handful of long, dark hair in one hand, the dagger in the other, and she began to cut.
It proved easy enough, once she had cut her hair short and dressed herself in male clothes again, to get a place on one of the merchant ships leaving Port Royal within the week for England. Anamaria had always found that nobody looked too closely at her if she affected a deeper voice, wore a hat with a floppy brim, and did her work well. Sparrow had been one of the few who knew she was female and did not care.
Her ship, a stately brig named Lady Mary, was bound for the Port of London with a cargo of sugar, and was due to leave in four days. Whilst she was on board that evening, briskly scrubbing the decks, Anamaria looked up and saw the single sail of Briggs's Emmy slipping out to sea. She smiled, wryly, to herself. No turning back now.
On the afternoon before the Lady Mary's embarkation, the crowds gathered on the quayside and the Dauntless was busy with people. The sailors aboard Anamaria's ship downed tools and went to the rail to watch as Admiral Norrington, in full dress uniform, boarded his ship. The townsfolk cheered him as the boat left the quayside, and Norrington responded with a thin, brisk smile and a raised hand.
But the real celebrity was yet to come. Leaning on the rail, Anamaria gritted her teeth and watched as - surrounded by marines in red - Jack Sparrow was brought out to the Dauntless in chains. He had been given a clean shirt, though, and a shabby but brushed coat. As he looked around at the crowd, smiling his gilt-edged smile, Anamaria was pleased to see that his eyes were lined darkly. Her gift, the small package of kohl powder, had evidently reached her old friend.
A few people attempted to boo the prisoner, but for the most part the crowd remained silent, and merely watched as Sparrow was led into the longboat and rowed out to the vast ship.
Once the prisoner was on board, the guards took him below. Some sailors ran up the ratlines and unfurled the sails, whilst others raised the anchor. Slowly, the great ship moved out of the harbour.
"Some folk say he was the Caribbean's best pirate," one of Anamaria's crewmates observed.
"Good riddance," another said. "Can tell you I'll sleep easier this voyage, knowing the Black Pearl ain't out there to hunt us."
Anamaria went back to her work, praying for swift winds that would take the Lady Mary safe to England on the heels of the Dauntless and her captive.