Disclaimer: Someday, my friend… Someday, I will…
Thank you all for waiting so long for this chapter. I'm sure all the beautiful suspense, as my words were, has gotten more than a bit old.
I am still going to finish this, no worries. I know what's happening. Major plot explosion coming. Also, I've been studying up. A bit. For all of my purposes, Pirates took place just before 1660, the prime of the colony, as in 1662 an earthquake sank part of the town.
THANK YOU SO MUCH if you reviewed. I LOVE YOU ALL! DON'T FORGET ME!
erosgirl – You like Jack! YAY! I like Jack too! He did well. Wonderful job on his part.
Kelsey Estel – You've hit the nail on the head. It hurts – am I really THAT obvious? But you see, this is good pain. My story makes sense.
Governor Dorgan is what drove Will back into piracy. And that means that Dorgan must have given him a good reason to go and find our favorite crazy pirate. That scares me a little, and I'm the one writing it. But I do know exactly what Dorgan does, and you don't, so don't bother screaming. He isn't that scary anyway.
One last thing, not at all least: You reminded me of Fezzik. I almost forgot to put him in here as much as I should. I love Fezzik, how could I do that? And so, just for you, I have made plans to slip a little bit of our favorite giant into some of the chapters already posted, and also, of course, make an effort to give him a larger part. Fezzik is not going to end up like Chewbacca in Episode III. That was lame.
But anyway…
CHAPTER EIGHT
Elizabeth had never seen men so horribly wounded… or so forcedly cheerful. Some of the men she had dined with, worked with and laughed with were bleeding their life away on the deck of the Revenge, but still they joked and smiled (in a twisted way); propped against barrels, flat on their backs, clutching at stumps of fingers, they ignored the fact that they would likely die. That was no way to spend your last day – moaning about inconveniences like the next world.
Elizabeth hoped she could keep the pathetic men alive. Since the battle with the French merchant ship that afternoon, she had bandaged, scrubbed, shouted for this tool, that tool. So far, the only men that had died from their wounds had had legs shot off, giant splinters in their body, or some other grievous wound that all knew would kill them.
"It's the luck of the draw." Westley stood behind her, head bowed. Elizabeth turned from the body in front of her.
"Luck is no reason to die."
"They don't die from luck. The luck is only when it happens. They die because they came to this ship to die. Even if they never realized it, every one of them knew they would probably die. I knew, when I came. He knew," Westley said, pointing to John Kitts. The former Navy man was sneering as he held a rag to his bloody face. "He knew he would die whether he came aboard or not. You knew, better than most, that you would die on this ship. I think you were wrong about that."
Elizabeth said, "How do you know who is going to die?"
"I never know who will die. I only know who realizes that piracy is death."
"It isn't death for everyone."
"No, I suppose not. There is always a strong chance, however."
Elizabeth moved on to the next casualty, thinking how this conversation could hardly lift the crewmen's' spirits. "I think Jack didn't just get into piracy for fun."
"Sparrow? I agree with you there. There's more to that one than meets the eye – believe it or not."
Elizabeth couldn't keep from giving a short laugh. "A lot of him meets the eye."
Jack and Will met in the large cabin of the Black Pearl. Jack was brought up to date on the Turners' marriage, but grew impatient after Will began to describe the hat he had worn on the short honeymoon out to sea, courtesy Commodore Norrington. Prompted by this absurdity, he finally interrupted.
"Well, it sounds to me as if things are going great. But you didn't have to come out and find me to tell me that."
"Well, there is a problem."
"Tell us, then."
"Jack, you know that Governor Swann died six months ago. Elizabeth has apparently taken it quite well, although I really think that she hasn't gotten over it." Here, Will paused as if he didn't really want to approach the impending subject.
Jack nodded, and waved at him to continue. "Ever since the appointed officer from England arrived, it's been terrible for Elizabeth and me. Governor Dorgan is… a monster. He's put half the businesses in Port Royal into bankruptcy, because they didn't swear loyalty to him when he ordered them to. This man is asking for tribute, not just taxes, personal tribute, from the people – every man must pay for 'services rendered in the spirit of the promotion of the colony.' This is ridiculous! I don't even have a home to go back to; he's seized everything but the shop for himself, and I can't work because I'm broke."
The pirate intently fingered the nicked edge of the large table. "And what do you want me to do about it?"
"I need someone who can force him out of office, or possibly just sail to England and get the King to notice the situation." Will ran his fingers through his hair. "We need to do something, something must be done about this and without a ship or a fighting crew, I don't know what."
Jack fondled one of the braids of his beard, rings clinking against his colored beads. "Alright. That makes a bit of sense. But, why didn't you just make your friend Mundar help you?"
Will swept his eyes away from Jack and around the cluttered cabin. "I don't trust him."
Jack smirked at that. "And you trust me, is that it? A blacksmith trusting the best pirate on the high seas? However sensible this may be, perhaps we do need to have a talk, Pirate to Pirate to Blacksmith."
The talk turned out not to be a small affair but a meeting of all the most important figures of each ship. From the Pearl were Captain Jack Sparrow, Gibbs, and Anamaria; from the Revenge came Captain Roberts, Westley, Will, and Elizabeth.
Everyone was introduced, it was explained that Roberts had only called himself Mundar because he didn't want to kill everyone, and the Turners told everyone of the need to eradicate the Governor.
Roberts clarified, "So you want to either attack Port Royal, or sail across the Atlantic to get King William and Queen Mary to rescind Dorgan's power."
"We'll need more than two ships to take the city. I could probably bring in two or three, but I doubt we could gather up an entire fleet." said Anamaria.
They were interrupted by a knock that rattled the dirty glass on the door; Fezzik and Buttercup came with vegetable stew and biscuits. It was delicious, for old shipboard rations, which came as no surprise for everyone but those from the Pearl. All halted the discussion, partly to enjoy the meal, and partly because Buttercup made an announcement.
"There's a ship off our port bow. The lookout says its pirates, with the usual skull and crossbones. Farm Boy, you had better go and see who it is…"
Westley smiled, blushed, and excused himself. Naturally, Sparrow followed him, shooting a glance at Buttercup and winking roguishly on his way out.
END OF CHAPTER EIGHT
Again, the most sincere apologies I can give, for anything short of murder, are in order. Therefore, I promise to post at least once by next Saturday. I'll work like crazy. But don't kill me because I haven't posted. I'll be at my grandma's house, and of course that means a lot of time to do nothing – AKA, this.
If I ever write anything that sounds exactly like "rough, dirty men", review, tell me what I did, and I will eradicate it IMME - well, really, really really fast.
