Chapter XVII – The Gallows
Rachelle walked by the mainmast with Thomas on their daily stroll. She seemed a lot more subdued; her perpetual tears by now had ended. The crew supposed the walks helped air out her head – not to mention all the time she spent with the cabin boy. Michael glanced at them before doing his duty by climbing the mast and watching for ships in the crows nest. As he glanced at her, she turned and caught his eye. Smiling, she gave him a little nod, and he found himself nodding with a smirk. Shaking his head, wondering what was with her, but slightly pleased with the change – it was much easier to sleep without her and Monkey's shrieking, as well as her not trying to throw things at him any longer – he just let her change in demeanour slide. Instead he concentrated on climbing the blasted mast with a telescope in his hand. Like he and the other crewmembers had done many times before, he decided that "carefully" would be the method of choice. And so carefully he climbed, slightly afraid of heights after his fall, but he thought that something like that would happen. It would be pretty normal: fearing the thing that almost killed him. But after enough times of forcing himself onto the masts, he was sure that the fear would dwindle then vanish altogether.
Jack, as usual, was standing at the helm, eyes blank yet intense. It had to be the kohl. Or just the way he was. He had to be the only person who could have that expression. Although after years of being around Jack, many of his traits had osmosed to Michael. And, he considered, two thirds of the way up the mast, taking a deep breath, that the strange "completely aware but nobody's home" expression had also come into his own repertoire.
Peering out unto the sea with the telescope, once making it into the crow's-nest, Michael waited for any ships to appear on the horizon. The captain seemed paranoid about certain, tall, white sailed ships.
Frankly, the first mate couldn't blame him.
Commodore Norrington looked out at sea as his ships clipped along. They were going to find that damn Sparrow, come hell or high water! And on the sea, that was no joke. But he would search endlessly for his bride-to-be, and rescue her from the clutches of the wickedest man ever born. And his reputed just-as-bad, first mate. Cutthroat, the lad's name was, for he was barely a man yet and had a reputation so sordid it made even the most hardened soldier cringe. Jack Sparrow and Cutthroat, two of the worst pirates ever, two of the worst humans ever, and they worked together.
Everything seemed to come in pairs. Funny that.
"What are our orders, sir?" a young troop said, gasping for air as he saluted, standing as straight as possible. He had just run across the ship and in this uniform, with this heat, it was not fun.
"The pirates are expendable," Norrington snarled, balling up his fists again, knuckles going white, "I don not care about them. But Jack Sparrow and Cutthroat are to be brought on shore alive. I will show that they can no longer escape the law, and make a spectacle of them! That I finally caught those blasted buggers!"
The solder bowed slightly, looking a tad uneasy, then ran off. A few strides away, he stopped, turned and asked:
"And your fiancée, sir?"
The Commodore went slightly red. "Save her you blundering fool."
Bowing again, the young man resumed his run across deck.
"Sir!"
Jack looked up at Michael in the crow's-nest. Lifting his hand up to his eyes, sneering as he squinted, he yelled back.
"What?"
"I see . . . I see a ship . . . I see ships, Jack!" He turned and grabbed onto a rope, brought it up into the nest and swung down onto deck, the telescope under his arm. He handed it to the captain, whose face had toughened, eyes dark.
"The British fleets?"
"None other than, Jack." Michael looked slightly worried. "We know they're comin' fer the girl, but I just worry about what they're gonna do . . . they're gonna decimate us, aren't they?"
Shrugging, Jack idly tossed the telescope from one hand to the other.
"We can out run them, cap'n."
Jack didn't move, save for the tossing from hand to hand. His eyes were vacant, staring off in the distance, his mouth drawn tight in determination.
"No," he said slowly, "they'll hound us till the day we die."
"Today could be that day captain!" Michael shouted, his voice high.
His dark brows rose slowly. Then his eyes moved to study his first mate. "Ye forget yerself, lad. I'm Cap'n Jack Sparrow." Seeing that his first mate had an unimpressed expression, he tacked on: "How many bloody times have we bested the English?"
"Numerous times," Michael articulated, face and stance changing into something a bit surer. Then he elaborated: "For the past twelve years."
"And why can't we do it now?" The captain snickered and tossed the telescope back, Michael blundering, having to think fast, and nearly dropping it.
"But cap –"
"And I thought ye woulda trusted yer own logic."
Frowning at the captain, all Michael could do was nod, then call for all hands on deck.
"Wonderful plan Jack!" Michael roared from inside their cell, gesticulating wildly. He was standing, pacing, while the captain sat placidly in the corner, one leg bent, foot tucked under the knee of his outstretched leg.
He twirled his knife a few times, gazing up at his first mate, waiting for him to get it. Finally he indulged him and explained: "And do ye notice any of our crew in here with us, matie?"
Michael's mouth opened as he raised his finger, then his jaw dropped. The captain was absolutely correct. They were the only ones of their ship hauled into captivity.
"You're brilliant or completely insane!" he finally cried, grabbing the bars and shaking himself on them, wanting out.
"Amazing how the two coincide," he said with a smirk.
Turning about, Michael and Jack were instantly locked in a glare.
"Ye may have well killed us both!"
"Ah, but the Pearl is safe, and our men out in the crowd." Snickering; "Seems that ol' Norrington forgot about keeping them captured in his excitement to get us."
"Ye have a plan, don't ye," Michael said slowly, studying his captain with a suspicious stare. He knew Jack too well. There had to be something going through that crazy mind of his.
He shrugged. "Something usually comes along."
"Something!" the younger man sputtered, throwing his hands in the air and stomping about, "something usually comes along?!" He was, by this time, screaming at the ceiling, as if the Gods could hear him better.
"I think that's what I said, aye."
Nearly shaking in frustration and rage towards Jack's completely composed conduct, he spun around, and crossed his arms, seething.
Soon they heard a clanking and some people marching their way. A soldier unlocked the door and four more entered the cell, putting shackles on both pirate's wrists. Jack went along with his two guards, looking bored. Michael, however, fought with all his might, having to be lifted up as he struggled for most of the walk, so he wouldn't get away.
A huge crowd had gathered around the gallows and Jack mounted it, gazing up at the noose like it was an old friend and also like he had never seen one before. Again, another expression only he could manage. His hands hung down and he stood in a relaxed stance, weight more on one leg than the other.
Michael, however, was still struggling as the troops forced him up onto the gallows. The one holding him was struggling just as hard to keep his hold. Arching his back, he lifted the large man up onto the platform and followed, stepping up. Jack looked at his still struggling companion almost questioningly then returned his bored stare to the crowd and noose.
There was a ripping sound in the midst of the struggling grunts and cries. The crowd and guards about the gallows glanced around the area, trying to find the source. Michael let out a battle shriek, trying to struggle free of his captor, tatters of his clothing in the guard's hands. His clothes were suddenly and almost completely reduced to shreds. The soldier he had struggled with had caught onto some cloth – from the first layer, no less, hanging out just under his shirts – and pulled, trying to keep the pirate under control.
Feeling cool air on his skin, something he was unaccustomed to, and the ripping and flapping of free cloth finally settling in his mind, Michael stood on shaky feet. His kohled eyes swept down his own frame, taking it all in. Everyone, including Michael, gasped. A few people fainted, and not only the women.
Jack glanced over at the woman standing beside him, ready to be hanged.
"Well, love, ye ready to go?" he asked calmly. Then he noticed most of the men staring at her barely covered breasts under the tatters of her shirt. "Cover yer eyes!" he snarled and half the crowd did just that. Michael . . . or whatever her name was, wasn't red, she wasn't even enraged. She, like everyone else, was so shocked over what happened she just trembled.
"Love?" Jack murmured. Turning her head around, she faced him, wide eyed. Then she glanced out at the crowd, life coming to her face. Leaning towards the Pearl in the port, she nudged her head in that direction. Jack not getting it, she lifted her hand up and pointed as she jerked herself towards it. Now understanding, a grin lit up his face and he leapt down. The shock had given him enough time to jump and make his escape without anyone reacting. He was able to gather the pirates who had avoided capture because of Norrington's zeal to get Rachelle back and to hang Jack and Michael, before anyone realised what exactly was happening.
She watched as the men leapt onto the Pearl and began sailing away. Looking at the guards as they started to approach her, the crowd coming back to life, she leapt down and ran through the throng of people. Not knowing what to do: she was a woman, but the pirate branding on her arm along with the tattoos clearly said she was Cutthroat, they just let her run.
Diving into the water, wrists still bound, she thanked her lucky stars that she was one hell of a swimmer. She made it to the ship just before it started off at a good pace and clambered up the rope dangling over the edge as far as she could go. The men, also in shock, just pulled her up. She was still the first mate and she wasn't about to drown.
Walking to the stern, she heard someone yell:
"Thanks for taking me, Jennifer! I can't swim!"
"Learn!" she roared back.
"Learn?! How?!"
She had to cup her hands around her mouth so Rachelle on the shore could hear her. But at this point she was surrounded by at least twenty soldiers.
"Get in the water, move your arms and legs, and keep your head above the water! If your head goes in the water DON'T BREATHE!"
Although she could hear her friend's voice, she couldn't hear the exact words. She thought it may have been "Thanks a lot!" but that was a bit indignant, wasn't it?
Then a clear voice bellowed, "I'll get you Jack Sparrow!"
And at the same time, both Jack and Jennifer shouted back, hands cupping their mouths, "That's CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow!"
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Well, now we all know the truth eh :D Er, about Rachelle and her makeup, well, we meant it as in "natural, barely perceptible" like that face stuff girls wear . . . to make herself paler . . . because isn't that what women of that time did?; something suitable for a young lady. And she doesn't become a pirate.
Oh! And Mika is back! She's off school now, and she's probably coming over YAY! And we actually just finished talking on the phone . . . So Mika's no longer MIA, and we're gonna be writing more soon!
YAY!
Er . . . hmm, thanks for the reviews and such guys. Keep reviewing and enjoying, and we'll keep writing and posting :D
Sukkumbus and Mika