Yayy, thanks for all the reviews! You guys rock! Here's the next chapterrr (I have so many other things to be doing right now, but writing this story is way more fun)
On deck, a fierce battle was raging. As soon as Jen emerged from the hatch, a sailor nearly fell upon her, stumbling from the force of a blow he had just received to the head. She ducked and clambered the rest of the way onto the deck as best she could while the unnamed pirate was still holding her firmly by the arm. He pulled her sharply to the center of the boat, where the sails and ropes prohibited hand-to-hand combat and the action thinned out.
"Stay here," he ordered, drawing his sword and preparing to engage in the battle. He looked her up and down. "Now I'm trustin' you to stay put. Don't be runnin' off, because there's nowhere to hide, and we'll be less kind to you when we do find you if we've had to hunt you down, you follow me?" She nodded slowly. Then he was lost amid the sea of clanging metal, falling bodies, and groans.
Jen waited and watched, wishing she had a weapon. Not that she would have known how to wield it, but she would have felt less wholly vulnerable. Although, surprisingly, no one seemed to be taking any notice of the young girl standing awkwardly in the center of the ship.
Just as that thought crossed her mind, she felt a hand grip her elbow, and a voice whispered, "Now what are you doing here, lovely?" She whipped around and saw the sneering face of Buchanan's right-hand man. She shrieked and, lacking any combat training, she instinctively kicked out and caught him squarely in the groin. He doubled over and loosened his hold; she ran.
She ran straight into the thick of the battle, where swords whistled dangerously close to her head and sailors and pirates alike kept stepping on her feet. She found a fallen sailor still clutching his blade and took it, hefting it awkwardly into a semblance of a ready position. It was too heavy and the handle was too thick, but she felt a little better. She backed up, trying to get somewhere her back wouldn't be unprotected.
She trod on someone's foot and whirled around sharply, raising her sword in alarm. Another sword blocked it easily, sending shockwaves down her arm, but she gritted her teeth and didn't drop the blade. She found herself staring into a pair of very dark, kohl-rimmed eyes, framed in a well tanned and slightly sweaty face. He was young for a pirate, dressed in extravagant wild colors, and his eyes were flashing with the excitement of battle. He regarded her for a moment a little quizzically. Then, without warning, he swung his sword blade in an arc down and around, forcing her arm down as he freed his own blade and raised it high above his head. Her throat caught in fear, but without a backwards glance he was gone, lost again in the battle.
After only a moment more, the battle appeared to be over. The remaining sailors, as if by unspoken signal, dropped their blades and raised their hands slowly in surrender. The pirates kept their swords alert, but one by one they looked around and fixed their eyes on one man. Jen shrank back into an inconspicuous corner, forgetting what the pirate had told her about staying put.
A man, presumably the captain, strode proudly around the deck, speaking in a ringing voice to Buchanan's men. With a start, Jen realized he was none other than the pirate she had crossed blades with not five minutes ago. He didn't strike her as a captain type, but she began to study him more closely, curious to see a real captain after reading so much about them in storybooks. He wore a large pirate's hat and many layers of ragged, colorful clothes. Beads and other ornaments swung in his dark hair when he turned his head, and his skin was darkened by sun and wind. He had high cheekbones and a slightly angular face, with a straight nose, and a stubbornly set jaw.
"Now, everyone stay calm, this ship—and it's cargo—now belongs to the crew of the Black Pearl." Jen started at the words Black Pearl, remembering the song she had used to sing—was it only yesterday? It felt like ages ago.
"You will be locked in the brig until we reach Tortuga," the captain continued. "At which point we will set you free to scratch out a living as best you can—" He stopped in front of a slightly cringing sailor, and spoke into his ear, his hushed tones somehow still audible to everyone on deck "—for the rest of your miserable lives." The sailors glanced at each other unhappily, shifting their weight, but they didn't seem altogether crushed by the news. Jen was indeed surprised at the captain's generosity.
"Now then!" the Captain shouted briskly, resuming his striding around the sailors. "Anamaria! Gibbs! Dutton! Escort the lads to their new lodgings. Snow, sweep the ship for stragglers, if you'd be so kind." The four called sprang into action, Jen noting with shock that one was a woman. The sailors offered no resistance to being herded unceremoniously onto the other ship.
Jen remained in her corner during these proceedings, musing to herself. The Black Pearl. She had spent hours at the orphanage listening to the older children telling stories after lights out, speaking in excited whispers so as not to wake the headmistresses. When it came her turn to be one of the older ones, she had becomes famous for spinning tales so wild and enthralling that she'd earned quite a following. More than once her tales had led her listeners to forget the hour and shriek in delight, earning them all beatings and a night without supper. The Black Pearl. The legendary ship and its undefeatable captain… could they really stand before her now?
With a start, she saw that the pirate who had brought her up from the brig had now reemerged. He was standing near the center of the ship where he'd left her, looking about him. He called loudly to his shipmates.
"Where's the girl?"
"What girl?"
"There was a girl, I left her right here, and I bloody told the wench—"
Jen shrank a little more into her corner, her heartbeat quickening, unsure of what to do. Now that she'd deliberately defied the pirates' orders, he might be harsh with her.
The rest of the pirates continued to chatter good-naturedly.
"You must be dreaming. No woman here but Anamaria, and that's bad enough, I wager—"
"I heard that, ninny!" came the woman's sharp voice from the other ship, amid hearty laughs.
"A girl?" It was the captain's voice again. Now that he wasn't yelling, it had rather a soft, lazy, velvety quality to it. The rest of the crew quieted down immediately to make room for his voice. Jen wondered what he'd done to win such respect. Or was it fear? Was he cruel?
"Aye, sir."
"Little dark-haired thing with keen eyes?" Jen had never heard herself described thus, and found it pleased her rather more than 'the shrimpy one' or 'the one who can't stop staring.'
"Aye sir, her exactly."
"She's over there," he said carelessly, with a sweep of his arm in her direction.
Jen winced as all eyes turned on her, some hard, some unreadable, most simply wondering.
The man who had found her advanced on her quickly, causing her to dart away in alarm. He grabbed her arm.
"I told ye to Stay. Put." Her eyes widened as she looked up at him. She wondered whether he'd strike her.
"Elliott." The Captain came up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Be a gentleman, ay?" But his words seemed to carry a joke. Jen didn't know whether they were at her expense or not. But Elliott released her.
The Captain looked her up and down with his unnervingly dark eyes, then turned to Elliott.
"So then… who's the girl?"