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Kelsey Estel – Jack as Gov. Dorgan? Scary thought. Fezzik really hasn't gotten much at all, has he? Don't worry; he and Buttercup will have much more to do with Elizabeth finally here and everything.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Elizabeth liked the crew, liked the captain, liked the mate, and liked being off of the navy ship. She had been treated well, but most of the two months on the Dauntless had been inside her cabin. Now, back on a real ship, a pirate ship, Elizabeth was looking forward to a good deal more freedom. That was the first thing she told Will.
"I'm not going to let you convince me to stay shut away through this voyage. I'm going to help sail this ship, and if we get in any battles I intend to fight."
Will glanced up at her from his position, seated on the rail on the deck, where he was polishing his sword. "What do you think I taught you swordplay for?"
They were interrupted by the clanging sound of the dinner bell. Both looked over to see Buttercup balancing plates over to the table that was always left on deck for the meal the crew had together every day as the sun set. The crewman with the bell silenced his racket, and began to set the table with the rest of the group of pirates. Even Roberts helped distribute the pots. Fezzik brought the rest of the food from the galley, in addition to several benches.
When everything was settled, Roberts rose. "I'm sure all of you are curious as to what happened earlier this day, and so I will explain. The ship was the Dauntless, pride of the royal fleet based in Port Royal." A rustle passed around the table. "The Commodore was only delivering Miss Elizabeth Swann to us, and meant no harm. In fact, I do believe he meant to wish us Godspeed and good fortune on our voyage, were he not held of such a strong disliking of pirates. The whole matter is rather personal, so it is from now on closed." He began to sit, but stood again. "The marvelous dinner was made by Lady Buttercup and various members of the crew in honor of Miss Swann's arrival."
A few scattered cheers were given for the food, and all began to eat.
Elizabeth, being quite famished, bothered with polite manners only for a moment after finding a spoon and knife. Spearing a dumpling out of a steaming pot, she attacked it ravenously, not expecting much in the way of taste. She was surprised.
"Will?"
"Mmm?"
"What is this?"
Will continued his dining. "I don't know. You should ask Buttercup."
Elizabeth searched the table for the only other woman present. "Buttercup?"
"Oh, yes?"
"What are these dumplings?"
Buttercup leaned over the pot to see. "I didn't make that. You should ask Nat."
"Who's that?"
"The one in the striped hat."
"Thank you."
Sighting a grey and red stocking cap, Elizabeth pulled up her skirts and walked down most of the length of the table. "Nat?"
The man looked up, showing a squinty, weathered face. "Who are you? Wait… Yeah, yer Miss Swann I s'pose. What do ye want?"
"Do you know what the dumplings over there are?"
"No idea. I don't think I actually cooked anything. Maybe Kigg knows."
Elizabeth gave up and returned to her soon-to-be husband. "I don't know what it is, Will."
"No one knows? Maybe Westley made it. He was in the galley for a while."
Elizabeth just sighed and stabbed the dumpling again.
"It tastes like it has fruit in it. I know Fezzik likes fruit."
"I really don't care enough to ask everybody on this ship."
"Alright." The blacksmith sighted a large skillet and scooped some of the viscous contents onto his nicked china plate. Tasting it, he liked his lips. "This one is good. Who made the stuff in the black iron frying pan?"
"I made that, Will."
"Really? You've only been here since this afternoon."
"I know, but I've never cooked before. Somebody called Rate showed me how to make that. Some kind of duff."
Will laughed. "You should try cooking again sometime, Miss Swann. This is delicious."
One week later…
"White sails off the port bow!"
Westley rushed to the flank of the ship, and raised his spyglass to his eye.
"Roberts, it's a French merchant. Shall we take it?"
Roberts grinned. "Most certainly. It has been rather dull for a while now. Longer than is healthy for such men as ourselves. Put on full sail!"
The red flags were flying at the tip of both masts; the Dread Pirate Roberts almost never attacked under false colors. Already the French vessel had turned tail and was streaming at full speed away from the pirates, but the Revenge was far swifter than the heavy galleon. The chase was over in under an hour. The French, knowing escape was beyond their reach, readied themselves for battle. Elizabeth and the pirates could see the strictly uniformed sailors, pulling pistols from their sides, in the dimming evening light.
"At the ready men! Steady! Pull around for a broadside!"
"Se tenir prêt! Se tenir!"
"Ready for the loot, boys! Aye!"
"Offrir de la résistance! S'opposer résolument a pirater!"
"Fire!"
"Tirer!"
Both ships let loose an explosion of cannon fire into the other. The twelve guns on the port side of the Revenge ripped a hole in the other above waterline. The French volley shattered part of their deck, sending giant splinters blasting into the ranks of pirates.
Roberts cried out above the thunder of the guns, "Grappling hooks! Catch 'em in their rigging, board them!"
Every pirate was now letting out a scream, a roar of such strength that it was almost as powerful as the report of the guns. Elizabeth scampered over the deck of the Revenge, a feat she could never have done in the dresses she usually had to wear (she had borrowed a pair of Buttercup's trousers), in search of a weapon. Suddenly she found herself face to face with the masked Spanish captain, stooping behind the rails of the ship, holding out a grappling hook to her. She hesitated, and reached out to it, but paused again. Another volley of lead from the hold of the French vessel was echoed by torturous screams from the ropes over the deck of the Revenge. Elizabeth took a deep breath, and shook her head. "There's work I should do here."
Roberts looked on her with… With respect, Elizabeth understood, with respect. He seemed satisfied, closing his mouth and tipping his head before leaping onto the rail. He and swung the hook he had offered her in swift circles by his side, before unleashing it.
The grappling hooks grabbed the rigging of the merchant, and nearly twenty pirates swung over the few feet of water that still separated the ships. The sailors fired their pistols and rifles at them as their mismatched array of boots and bare feet hit the deck, but it was too late. Most of the Frenchmen fell, by saber or pistol, in a matter of minutes.
Nobody had yet noticed the black ship on the horizon, barely visible through the evening air and cannon smoke, but approaching at an unearthly speed.
"Stop! Stop! Cesser!" Roberts yelled. "Tie them up. But let me have the captain." The pirates bound the crew of the merchant ship, as ordered. Fezzik the giant stepped across the gap between the two ships in one huge stride, put his great arms around the anchor, and tossed it over the side of the ship. Apparently he had already tethered the Revenge.
"Right, do any of you know English?" One crewman tried to raise his hand, but remembering himself a prisoner spoke up.
"Oui, I know the English."
"Tell your captain that I am the pirate Mundar, and to give us seventy percent of the treasure you carry. Seven parts out of ten parts of the treasure."
"Oui, I know percent." The sailor spoke in French to the captain that Roberts held tightly with a knife over his neck. The captain replied in a shaky voice.
"My Captain Beaumont say no. He say his job is to safe… to guard treasure. No."
"I'd say yes if I was yer captain, mate. Mr. Mundar here looks a bit vicious to me."
Every head turned.
A dripping, dirty, salty, gaudy, soggy, drunk weirdo was swaying on the deck not five paces from Roberts and Captain Beaumont.
"Quoi!"
"Who are you?"
"Jack!" Will rushed out of the crowd of crewmen. "How did you get here, you pirate!"
"Hold on, I'm not finished. I be Captain Jack Sparrow, and as I was saying before the whelp showed up, Captain Mundar is a pirate. You don't say 'No' to pirates that could just kill all of ye and take all yer loot if they so wanted." Jack blinked.
"Will, what the hell are you doing here?"
"I'm looking for you! How did you get here?"
"I swam, whelp, are you daft?"
Will raised an eyebrow. "You swam. Jack, we're in the middle of the Caribbean. You couldn't have possibly -"
"No, lad, my ship's right over there." The pirate waved an abstracted hand to one side. "I wanted to see what was goin' on."
"Jack, you are absolutely mad. But I need to talk to you."
Roberts cut in. "Captain Sparrow, Will, save your conversation. Frenchman, as Mr. Sparrow kindly pointed out, tell your captain that if he doesn't give us seventy percent of the treasure, we'll kill you."
Jack said again, "Letting you keep thirty percent is a fine deal, coming from a pirate."
"Exactly my point."
"Oui, oui, I'll tell him."
"Jack," Will said, and then continued in subdued tones, "Jack, as soon as this is over you and I have got to talk. At Port Royal… It's…"
"We'll talk after this is finished, so you said. Hold a bit, shall we?"
"Mon Captain Beaumont say you can have the treasure, my good friends. He say take what you wish."
"Thank your captain for his cooperation. Men, load the plunder into the Revenge, and get us prepared to sail. Sparrow, I suggest you swim back to your ship and tell them your Mr. Turner is aboard; I assume you want to speak to him for a time."
END OF CHAPTER SEVEN
A lucky number for a crucial chapter. Elizabeth is aboard, Jack's showed up, you got a battle, a supper, several members of the crew now have names, and we now have a subplot: the search for the Mysterious Dumpling Chef!
I'm almost sorry to cut you off there, but the suspense is just beautiful, isn't it?
Oh, and do you like the French? I just used a translator on Word, so most of it is probably wrong, but it was fun. Yay!
