A Witch's Daughter
Chapter Six: Aboard the Black Pearl
It rocked the smaller Chimera, and Catriona nearly fell overboard. Gripping tightly onto the railing, she scanned the inky oblivion, her eyes able to just make out the silhouette of a majestic vessel. Navy? Catriona wondered, painfully aware that she'd turned her back on her numerous opponents. Spinning around, she instinctively braced herself for the impact of a fist across her cheek or the stab of a sword, a killing blow…
But the once murderous mob had frozen. Well, the ones from Port Royal had been rendered immobile with shock and rage etching every line of their faces, whilst the several picked up from Tortuga just stared open-mouthed in fear and wonder, something Catriona couldn't fail to notice. All the while, alcohol-based infernos roared unnoticed, forgotten, most of which were sparked by Allanah.
Another cannonball sliced through her thoughts and seemed to signal her into action. Moving forward, she swung her cutlass, deliberately skimming the throats of the bastards and slashing a few. She didn't care if she'd cut deep enough for it to be fatal; they bloody deserved it. As one, all the pirates stepped back, and Catriona pushed forward, her blade executing a complicated dance she'd learnt from a Japanese kenjutsu expert. When Cat had first seen it performed, she thought it was simply a beautiful ritualistic dance of some sorts. However, in a tight space such as the one she was trapped in, it proved to be deadly.
The shouts and yells and sounds of panic and battle that had resumed and the continuous cannon fire from the mysterious ship didn't even register. Right now her mind was completely centred on one goal: to find and ensure that Allanah and Avarice were safe and free. A little bit of fatal vengeance was also on her now one-track mind.
Maybe if she hadn't been so focussed, hadn't had bloodlust pumping through every fibre of her being, she might have noticed that the other vessel had drawn close enough to board, and that was exactly what its crew was doing, among them a trio of handsome, dark-haired men. She might have realized that it was, in fact, a pirate ship, and not one of His Royal Majesty's, and she probably would have noticed that one of the dark men was making a beeline straight for her, attacking pirates threatening both him and herself.
Several scoundrels of the filthier variety swarmed towards her at once, able to disarm her and shove her to the ground. Trying to spring back up, a boot collided hard into her gut, knocking the blonde back down. The sudden collision with the wooden deck seemed to jolt her mind back, momentarily, to the Bright Star; back to Selene's intent green eyes and solemn warning: Some pirates seem like gentlemen. These, evidently, were not of the 'some'; they didn't even have the courtesy to pretend to be chivalrous.
I always thought I'd be more scared when I die. How could she be so calm? Catriona's blue eyes scrunched tightly from the throbbing in her abdomen and from the anticipated strike that would undoubtedly terminate her existence. A shot rang out; unnaturally clear and she started, expecting at any moment that her skull would suddenly go numb or her blood would soak through her shirt, staining the already filthy material.
Instead a large hand wrapped itself around her wrist, pulling her up, and a male, strangely slurred voice told her, "I believe you've dropped this," whilst presenting her cutlass. Almost as savagely as she attacked those that had threatened her life or simply got in her way, she snatched it out of the man's grasp before twirling around with a roundhouse kick that connected brutally with a brunet's large square jaw. "You're welcome," he muttered darkly before simply grabbing her left wrist and pulling her away.
"But I have ter —" she started in protest, but this mysterious pirate — he had to be a pirate — cut her mid-excuse.
"It can wait," the stranger told her calmly, as if this would settle everything. Did he even realize what was happening around them? Arrogant bastard. Exactly why did he believe he could just order her around like that?
Annoyance and irritation coursed through her in equal measure. Who did this bloke think he was, anyway? "Get off!" She snapped in annoyance, twisting her wrist out of his grasp just too easily. Before he'd had another chance to grab her again, Cat had immediately immersed herself amongst the battling crowd, (hopefully) out of his sight, relishing each challenge that dared oppose her, momentarily distracting her from her goal.
"Miss Woodcraft!" Who was that? He sounded familiar…she just couldn't place him, that's all. Squinting in the gloom, although the entire ship was ablaze, she made out familiar dark hair tied back, flashing brown eyes, and an annoyed, hostile expression. Bill? No, wait, if she just imagined him in finer clothing…and as if to confirm her thoughts, who else was there but Elizabeth, clutching his arm almost protectively. He was the Swann's fiancé. Who must be related Bill, she realized, mentally cursing herself for her stupidity. How could she not have seen it before? Lord knows, she was slow.
"Catriona, please listen!" Elizabeth pleaded desperately, arm linked with Will's. Her brown eyes met the pirate's blue in an imploring way, a way the younger woman completely ignored as she receded further into the crowd. So, the ex-hostage was (hypothetically) safe and reunited with the love of her life. Bloody brilliant. But why the hell would she care? Right now only two people were preoccupying her mind; Allanah and Avarice. Not exactly in that specific order. But where were they?
A sudden cannonball hit the mast of the Chimera with so much force it snapped the sturdy wood in half. In shock, the girl threw herself away from the collapsing wooden structure. Avarice was going throttle the other ship's captain if he gets out of this alive; Catriona, on the other hand, would slowly peel the skin off of the captain's body and force him to ingest his own hide before suspending him from the boom of his vessel with his intestines wrapped securely round his neck and take intense satisfaction in watching him suffocate. Hmm, wonder how she'd managed to earn such a vicious reputation?
"Cat!" That was definitely Bill. With one violent thrust through a pirate's gullet, Cat turned, responding to her name. "Board the Pearl!" he begged, indicating she come closer with his pistol, his warm brown eyes clearly expressing panic.
She rushed towards him, the cutlass in her hand dripping with the red liquid that helped her earn her name. "Why are you here?" she asked, complying with his demand for her to leave this ship. To an extent; she halted when they'd reached the railing. "Why did you do this?!" She demanded, indicating with her bloodied cutlass the burning ship that, miraculously, had yet to sink.
"Just leave!" Turner ordered sharply, dark eyes flashing dangerously.
"No." Catriona replied calmly, not even raising her voice. That calmness, the cool exterior in a situation of blood and death, that was a quality Bill had always admired and feared from his young protégé. Any other pirate, be it a fully grown man or a teenager such as herself, would have run around screaming in a wild panic, but this girl's complete lack of reaction was more disturbing and unsettling than any inhuman scream of fear and pain. It was easy to see why Navies and law-abiding sailors thought she was a witch, a servant of the Devil, simply by her complete lack of emotion. The legendary Catriona Woodcraft stood before him, and she couldn't be more different from the cheerful, enthusiastic girl that was the lass Bill had grown to lo — care for.
"How long do you think you'll be able to stay here?!" He pointed out logically. "You'll drown if ye don't burn to death!"
Cat smiled humourlessly. "That would be strangely appropriate…" she murmured, but obeyed, sheathing her sword and placing her right foot on the wooden rail and her left on the gangplank that served as a means to get from one ship to another. But Avarice and Allanah… She hesitated.
"Catriona…" Bill growled dangerously, and she felt the barrel of a pistol between her shoulder blades. This mutiny seemed to be showing her hidden sides of people she believed she knew well. "Run!" And Cat sprinted. Her boots connected with the deck of the ship—the Pearl, right? — and only then did she realize what Bill had just done.
He threatened me! So it was for her own good, but — he threatened her! She did not take kindly to death threats, be the intentions good or otherwise.
"What the —" This was said in a male voice, followed by a stream of profanities which she decided to take as a compliment. It belonged to a dark-haired youth, only a few years older than herself, who gaped at her like a fish out of water.
"Got a problem, mate?" Catriona demanded threateningly, hand moving to rest on her sheathed weapon. If she'd had more experience with lads nearer her age or indeed any man that had not witness her blooming from a little girl to a young woman, ones that hadn't been trying to imprison or murder her, she might have recognised the signs of schoolboy infatuation. Or in this case, probably lust (like there was really a difference).
Another voice cut through their staring contest (her with suspicion, him with curiosity): "Prepare to set sail! Back to Tortuga for repairs!" She recognised the voice, even if it had lost its slurred tone and took one of command. "Get to it, you mangy cads!" The man that had graciously handed her back her cutlass. She whipped around, looking at the last two men to board the ship; Bill and someone she assumed was the captain.
"You can't just leave!" She yelled, striding towards him. "There's still people on the Chimera!" Standing in front of him, she crossed her arms, scowling up at him and preventing him from actually moving off the wooden plank.
Apparently, this particular captain wouldn't let a trivial thing such as stubborn teenage girls (which, apparently, were assumed to be walking time-bombs) stop him from boarding his own ship. Stepping down lazily and just to her right so the entire right side of her body was pressed against his, he drawled at her, "Pretty as ye are, I don't think you're in any position to tell me what I can and can't do, love." And then he caught her arm in a vice-like grip and pushed her towards his crew. "Lock her in the brig, gents."
What?! Struggling, Catriona twisted her head to look at Bill, startled to discover him staring back at her, strangely detached. Why wasn't he protesting against her imprisonment? Why was he just allowing her to be dragged away like this? Her resistance vanished, and she allowed herself to be led to the brig. He knows what he's doing, she consoled herself. And if Bill had decided to betray her and leave her down there, she'll just pick the lock and slit his throat when he was sleeping. Violent? Catriona? Never.
"Captain…" a voice said hesitantly whilst the rest of the Pearl's crew obeyed their captain's orders and set about preparing the ship for her journey.
"Aye, Knight?"
"I don't think there's any room left in the brig, sir." Although she was near the steps leading below deck, Catriona's ears picked up this new information. Why wouldn't there be any room left in the brig? Twisting easily out of her two captors' insultingly loose grasp, she strode back towards the captain — what was his name? — and listened calmly to this conversation.
"None left?" The older man's dark gaze settled on Cat, widening slightly in surprise when he saw her staring expectantly up at him. "Well, why don't we ask Miss Woodcraft herself where she'll like to be held captive?"
"I was wonderin' if it'll be alright to talk to ye in private. Captain?" The blonde added, trying to make it sound like a request instead of an order. She got the impression this man did not enjoy having his authority questioned, and she wouldn't want to get on his bad side whilst he held her life in his hands unless necessary. The captain raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "Unless there's a problem with that idea?" she continued, trying very hard to look and sound docile and meek and obedient; what womankind were expected to be like.
Problem? How could a bonny lass in your cabin possibly be a problem? "None I can think of," he told her with a devilish grin. "Mr Knight, escort the girl to me cabin, lad." Knight, the man that had been gawking at her, made to grab her elbow, but froze at a look which clearly stated, 'I'm perfectly capable of walking on my own, thanks', and just walked pass her to the other side of the ship.
Bill had watched these events unfold with a knowing look. Jack thought (technically, decided to believe) he was going to get lucky; well, unless Jack thought a world of pain and 'getting lucky' were the same thing, he was in for an enormous amount disappointment. "I just hope she won't be too rough with you, Jack," Bill said, fully intending Sparrow to catch the second meaning those words suggested. Would she kill him? No, the girl wasn't that stupid. Maim him? A possibility, but Jack wasn't that thick to incur the wrath necessary for the piratess to do such a thing. Give him long-lasting agony, probably around the more…personal parts of Jack's anatomy? An almost certainty. Bill couldn't help sniggering at the thought. He was turning out to be a very loyal friend, wasn't he?
(Other place/time)
Pirates. Pirates were attacking Andrew Foster's ship. "Stop! We'll surrender!" He screamed in panic, trying to get his crew to drop their clumsy 'weapons'. Emerging on deck, Andrew realized that the flag was not the skull and crossed bones of a pirate ship, but a flag of Spain. This was a Spanish ship. A privateer, perhaps. Which were just the same thing, if not worse.
After much shouting, his crew finally stopped their feeble attempts at battle, dropping their weapons — most of which were cutlery. Andrew was thrust forward, trembling. Bad luck to bring a woman aboard; an old wives' tale, indeed, he thought grimly, looking into the merciless black eyes of the Spanish captain. The sudden coolness of metal on the back of his neck did nothing to calm his nerves.
"What cargo do you carry?" the Spaniard demanded lowly and dangerously in a slightly accented voice. He was dressed in fine clothing, simply embroidered; a man of wealth, no doubt, although the scar running from his left eye to his jaw showed that he'd been involved in a few common brawls, or most likely duels.
"Sugar," Andrew spewed out, fearing for his life. "Tobacco, coffee — things from the plantations."
"Slaves?" Foster shook his head. With a slight nod, the captain said to his crew, "Verifique el barco, ve si él dice la verdad. Cargue todos los bienes en al María Sangriento. Si usted encuentra algo de interés, infórmelo a mí."
The next few minutes seemed like an eternity to Andrew, kneeling uncomfortably at the complete mercy of the assumed privateer. A voice called out, "Capitán Lozano, aquí está algo que quizás interese usted," and the female that had caused all his grievances was thrust forwards. Amazing, how she still insisted on wearing that thick colourless cloak of hers in this weather.
"And I wonder," Capitán Lozano drawled, circling the woman standing proudly in front of him, "how a respectable woman such as yourself, or you appear to be, come upon a vessel such as this. What is your name, señora?"
"Captain Lozano, am I correct?" She asked him. At his polite nod, she rushed on, "I have a business proposition I would rather discuss in private with you. I believe I have…I'm not sure what the technical term is, but let's say an ability you would find useful."
"Is that so?" He asked, toying with her. Some of his English-speaking crew threw each other knowing glances. "And exactly what, señora, can you do that I would spare your life for?" He expected her to bribe him, bargain with him, throw at him things he did not want nor need, or objects he could attain by himself. Whatever Santiago was expecting from the mysterious Englishwoman was not what she conveyed:
"I can give you Catriona Woodcraft."
Andrew's head jerked up in shock, eyes widening. The Catriona Woodcraft? There were some murmurings at the mention of the name amongst the Spaniards, whether they could speak the English language or not.
Lozano started, eyes widening, looking very tempted and inclined to agree. He paused, collecting his thoughts and processing the female's words. Then suddenly he grabbed the woman's left wrist, pulling her closer. "¡No mienta a mí!" He spat into her face. "Do you honestly believe you can fool me so easily, puta mugrienta?"
"Who said I was fooling you?" She replied, calmly prying his hand off of her throbbing wrist. Rubbing the sore appendage, she asked him casually, "Have you ever seen Woodcraft? Saw her face?"
Seen her? Who else had scarred his face, slicing his skin open swiftly and effortlessly before swinging back onto her ship? He'd crossed blades with her only a few months before, just off of Africa. Santiago had made the mistake of trying to take her alive so as to collect the reward: he should have just slaughtered her and taken her corpse back as proof of his victory. What he intended to do now, once he found that ship.
And he knew the Chimera was there, somewhere in the Caribbean Sea: the news of that humiliating event at the British Port Royal had reached every sailor in the West Indies. It had shamed the British Navy. That was the difference between the English and the Spanish; the English always had to boast about every little achievement, trying to make their nation seem so superior to every other country of the world. That was why they did not hang the crew of the Black Pearl immediately; they wanted to flaunt their prize to everyone. The Spanish, however, need not make such a show of their conquests; their achievements were impressive enough already.
"Yes," he replied, uncertain as to how his seeing her face was relevant.
"Good," the woman acknowledged, pulling off her hood. "So I trust I look familiar, then?"
(End)
AN: There's something wrong with ffn.net; it won't let me insert any symbols or anything, which is why I typed stuff like End and Other Place. Is anyone else having this problem?
Translations: (This Spanish is from a friend who apparently can speak it (but I think she got it off the internet—she gave me a web address), so if it says something along the lines of 'I'm an ugly loser with no life', blame HER, not me.)
Verifique el barco, ve si él dice la verdad. Cargue todos los bienes en al María Sangriento. Si usted encuentra algo de interés, infórmelo a mí. —
Check the ship, see if he's telling the truth. Load all the goods on to the María Sangriento. If you find anything of interest, report it to me.
Capitán Lozano, aquí está algo que quizás interese usted. —
Captain Lozano, here is something that might interest you.
Puta mugrienta —
Filthy whore
AN: And we introduce the baddies! Two of them! And probably more to come. Actually, I think I'll stick with just my two; they're the more deadly, less comical Dr Evil and Mr Bigglesworth (sp?). I think Jack was more OOC in this chapter than others, but I was in a rush to type this up and so hadn't really bothered to keep him as the pirate captain we all know and love. More effort next time, I promise!
Reviewer(s): I can't read my email! I can't even get into the account! It's probably because I hadn't checked it in a month or something, so if I had any reviews, I'm just saying I'll respond when I next update (which, hopefully would be sooner than this). Anyways, now I'm off to try to restore Hotmail.
