Only two more chapters to come so have fun!
15. Pursuit- the Huntress and the Hunters
Miguel Alfonso de Santiago dematerialized himself and vanished; the magic of smoke and lights had distracted the pirates as well as Norrington's men. Shapeless he traveled through time and space, chasing the gradually fading spark of William Turner's life until he found him in the brig of the Royal Navy ship, Huntress. There he rematerialized and stared in utter shock at the poor lad who'd been beaten black and blue, his face scabby with dried blood.
Will managed to lift a swollen eye, mumbling the Spaniard's name as if in feverish delirium, not longer able to distinguish between reality and illusion. Besides, there are situations when all hope has faded and only pain remains.
Santiago could sense his pain and had to take a mental glimpse at the most horrible nightmares troubling the young man's mind, refusing his maltreated body the rest that it so urgently needed now. "Sh, relax. Don't worry. Everything will be fine. I'll take you away from here." he whispered as he wrapped his arms around Will's motionless form.
"Elisabeth…" Will breathed with all his remaining strength before he fainted again.
Elisabeth- he could only hope that the pirates had that situation under control, nevertheless it wasn't the right moment to worry about her; Norrington would probably not harm her. Instead he had to take immediate care of young Will Turner or he would lose the boy. They had to get away from here just like he'd promised, and his wounds had to be healed. Therefore Santiago concentrated on another time-and-space-travel, no matter how much strength it would cost him, Will had to be taken to the Jewel Star.
All these years he'd sailed with Rowan Scarlett and her crew, he'd always avoided revealing his powers to them. When he had to travel on magical paths he'd done it secretly by locking his cabin door before dematerializing himself. This time however he popped up straight upon the Jewel's deck.
There was quite a hustle aboard. Men rushed to load the cannons and fired them with a deafening noise at the Huntress, threatening her to stay out of range. Anybody should have been busy enough with that but Rowan Scarlett's crew nevertheless didn't fail to notice when someone just popped up from out of nowhere, holding an unconscious, bleeding man in his arms. Superstitious, like sailors were, some made the sign of the cross and others the sign against evil- yet none of it would have helped them if Santiago had really had ill deeds in mind. But he hadn't. He only wanted to take an overall view of the general situation before healing Will and he also needed some help at it. So was there anyone willing to help him?
"I bring hot water, Spaniard." Rashid said matter-of-factly. Having been an eyewitness of the massacre at the Maharaja's palace in Madras he simply wasn't to be shocked that easily anymore.
Santiago nodded approvingly though there were still many pirates flashing him suspicious looks. McCoy shooed them away, back to their work. "Anything else ye need?"
"I help." A huge, dark-skinned man said and took Will's motionless body from Santiago's arms. The Spanish magician was definitely no weakling but he felt like a heavy weight had been lifted from him, although Will looked so small and vulnerable in the Negro's broad arms now. M'leh gently brushed some whisks of hair out of the unconscious lad's face. "He's a good man. Never liked being served by a slave, always thanked me for doing me duty. That's why I wanna help him." He glanced at Santiago. "My father was a medicine man, I know about medicine and Voodoo magic. I'm not scared. I help you."
A little while later Will's wounds had been attended to. He hadn't gained consciousness again but at least he wasn't feverish anymore, and the sleep he was sleeping now was a restful one, untroubled by any nightmares. M'leh would stay and watch over him, so Santiago could take a break. He went to the main deck again where there was still the same hectic of back and forth scurrying men firing cannons, nevertheless that didn't impress him. He simply cut out all the noises from his mind and took a deep breath… when suddenly the sound of the cannons died. McCoy had ordered to cease the fire after looking through his telescope with a worried face. It didn't take long and Santiago knew why.
A longboat was leaving the caves of Isla de Muerta, and in that longboat rowed by two grey-clad men sat not only Norrington but also Elisabeth, being his leverage once again. Of course no pirate would shoot at that boat. Damned, what has happened after that promising start? Why did Norrington have the advantage again, now? Santiago wondered and mentally scanned the island for Rowan, Jack and Marris. He sensed that Rowan was wounded- but fortunately not critically- and that she was worried about… about…
It hit him like the famous bolt from the blue. Elisabeth! She was the clue to so many unanswered questions, therefore he had to keep an eye on her and not on Rowan, Jack or Will. The pirates would get by without him like they usually did, also due to Jack's talent for talking himself out of any worrisome situation. No, they weren't in danger- but Elisabeth was.
"McCoy, tell Rowan- she'll be back here soon, by the way- that I'm going to be away for probably quite a while since I have to take care of Elisabeth Turner."
"Aye." The Irishman looked at him unimpressed. "But remember that ye're among superstitious pirates, so do me the favor of not vanishing from under their eyes. Ye know, I don't mind what ye're doing or what ye are as long as ye don't scare the crew I'm responsible for at the moment. Savvy?"
Santiago gave him a wry smile. Of course it had never been his intention to show off with his magic, so of course he would depart as secretly as he'd always done- somewhere below deck where nobody could see him leaving. He sighed and gathered his strength for another magical travel.
Rowan closed the cabin door and sank into a chair. She felt really miserable; her arm still hurt like hell, she was tired and totally frustrated. Norrington had the Statue of Nirrti and Elisabeth because of her failure, she hadn't been able to stop him. She had acted like an absolute beginner, inattentive, surprised that he'd fire his pistol at her. Therefore she'd deserved the pain.
She was glad that she was alone for a moment so no one could see her when she gave way to her tears, they ran across her cheeks, leaving hot, wet trails on her skin. She wept silently, tears of frustration, pain, and anger at herself.
When Marris walked in, carrying Santiago's medical box and two bottles of rum, she quickly wiped the treacherous trails off her face but of course she couldn't fool him.
"It's not yer fault, Rowan." He uncorked one bottle and handed it to her. "Here, ye better drink as much as ye can 'cause it'll get rather painful now, ye know."
"I don't mind." She lied, nevertheless she grabbed the bottle and gulped down a good amount of rum. At least the feeling of nausea faded. Without looking at Marris she said. "I should have…"
"No." He immediately cut her short. "Don't rack yer brain with if only. That never makes any sense. Whatever happened, it has happened and ye can't change it, savvy. Now lemme have a look at yer arm."
Rowan sighed and unbuttoned her shirt in order to take it off when she winced with pain. Dried blood had stuck the fabric to her skin but she ripped if off resolutely because she wanted to get it over and done with. Her wounded arm was extremely sensitive, it almost hurt when Marris took a close look at it though he hadn't even touched her yet. She needed more rum. She wanted to get really drunk; so drunk that she wouldn't feel the pain anymore, that she wouldn't have to cry anymore. Marvelously drunk and numb.
She had just finished the first bottle when suddenly something seemed to be strangely wrong to her. Why was Marris about to fix my arm and not… Oh, of course, Santiago's not here. McCoy had given me a short summery of what had transpired, including what Santiago had asked him to tell me. He's off to have an eye on Elisabeth. He's probably aboard the Huntress now, and we're following the Huntress, so the Huntress has become the hunted one. Funny. But what does Marris know about fixing wounds?
"D'ye really know what ye're 'bout to do?"
"Aye, don't worry. I've assisted Santiago many times more than ye've done." At once aware that he shouldn't have said that he bit his lower lip and tried to distract Rowan's thoughts. "Listen, my dear, ye know that I have to cause ye a lotta pain now when I clean yer wound so are ye sure ye don't wanna have Jack here to hold yer hand?"
Rowan just snorted. She hadn't asked Jack to take over command of the Jewel for nothing. Her crew could cope very well without her for a while but that she hadn't wanted him to be around because she simply couldn't be strong now. She didn't want him to see her crying and she already knew that she would cry.
"Rum." She said and pointed at the second bottle. Though she was never scared of being wounded, she was a real scaredy-cat when it came to medical treatments. Therefore she needed more rum. Yet, there was still something else preoccupying her mind, something that's got to do with Jack and medical treatments… Then she knew. Accusingly she raised her brows and pressed her index finger at Marris' chest.
"You. Ye're a bloody cheat, me hearty. Why didn't ye tell me in Port Royal? Why did I have te poke 'round in Jack's shoulder when ye could've done better?"
"Ah, not better. Ye did a great job, Rowan. Besides, there are things that are better done by a gentle woman's hand." Marris was glad that the alcohol had already taken effects on her otherwise she probably would have killed him now. But somehow he'd known even then, that Captain Jack Sparrow would be the perfect match for her and therefore she had had to take care of him. Well, and obviously she had done her best or else they wouldn't be together now.
Rowan glanced at him with narrowed eyes, a suspicious look on her face. Then she took another swig from the bottle and let out a hick. "Why don't ye just start torturing me?"
Later, Marris fluffed the pillows in her bed and piled some of them in order to make it more comfortable for her. Rowan gave him a drunken smile. Her arm was set, the pain had faded and her tears had dried. She felt a bit dozy now, drunk on the rum and drugged by some painkillers that Marris must have mixed in it. She giggled at that thought because it reminded her of how she'd drugged the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow once, and that again reminded her of Jack himself.
"Where's me Jack?" She slurred, impatiently tugging at Marris' sleeve. "I want Jack now. Where's me pretty pirate? "
Marris rolled his eyes. Though he had intended to get her drunk, she occasionally could become a real pain in the neck when she was drunk, and today was definitely one of these occasions. Sighing he tried to tuck her up in a blanket but she didn't want to let go of his sleeve.
"Where's Jack?" Rowan whined.
At the helm where ye sent him, he was tempted to say but she'd been so brave when he had tended her wounded arm- she had just gritted her teeth and endured the pain silently, with silent tears running down her cheeks- therefore she didn't deserve any sarcastic comments. Marris gently stroked her head.
"I'll fetch him." He promised and hurried to leave the cabin.
Jack was at the helm of the Jewel Star. He enjoyed steering her since she was a fast, agile and easy to maneuver ship. All sails were set and fully braced, the canvas crackled in the wind, and the Jewel Star was making remarkable speed. They should have caught up with the Huntress by now, ready to attack and board her, saving Elisabeth. Yet somehow the Huntress had almost disappeared from sight, swallowed by the rapidly falling night. That was odd. A small two-masted vessel shouldn't be uncatchable for two of the fastest pirate ships that had ever sailed the Caribbean. He looked across his shoulder at astern and had to see that his Black Pearl was even further behind as if she couldn't keep pace with the Jewel.
Nonsense! Gibbs just doesn't know how to treat a lady like the Pearl, he tried to talk himself into believing although he knew it wasn't true. Probably the Jewel was indeed a little bit faster due to all that modern stuff Marris had once shown him. And the Huntress- well there had been so much talk about magic recently that he shouldn't be surprised about anything anymore. If only he'd know where she was heading.
"Set course for Port Royal." Someone told him.
Jack wondered if he should make it unmistakably clear that firstly, he preferred to be addressed as Captain, and secondly, that he didn't take orders from anybody. Then he became aware of the fact that he wasn't Captain of the Jewel Star and Marris wasn't just anybody.
"Ye're sure?"
Marris grimaced without uttering a word, looking terribly pale and exhausted. Jack knew what was wrong with him. If he'd hear Alf's voice ringing in his head unasked, he'd probably look the same. Must be horrible for him to get attacked by Alf's ever so right instructions all the time even if he himself wasn't even present. No chance to cover yer ears when someone has decided to mess up yer brain.
"Take a rest mate." He said. "Ye need it."
"Nah- I'm fine. Besides, Rowan wants to see ye so I'll take yer place now. Better not keep her waiting."
Jack kept back any questions about her welfare because Marris didn't need to know how much he really cared about her; he had already made a fool of himself in the caves. Now he knew that no one died of a gunshot wound in the arm and after all, she was still better off than Will. He had gone to have a look at the whelp before he'd taken over the helm and was still distressed. So maybe he should take another look at the lad and then go to Rowan…
"Jack. Rowan's waiting. Let go of the helm now." Marris elbowed him slightly impatient, reminding him that he still had a firm clasp on the wheel. Steering a ship meant freedom to him, especially at night when he could let his thoughts roam. Any ship meant freedom, endless horizons, the world at his feet. Therefore he'd never cared about a woman for longer than a night because usually any close relationship inevitably meant the end of freedom. Strangely, but he'd never felt cramped nor his freedom curbed when he was with Rowan. Perhaps that was because she knew more about the meaning of being free than anyone else he'd ever met simply because she was a woman and a pirate captain. It must have demanded so much more of her to get where she was now- the captain of her very own ship- since in these times women had only little choices; either they got married or they ended up as a whore... and of course there was also the possibility to become a nun- very unlikely. Instead, Rowan Scarlett had bluntly ignored all social conventions and chosen the hardest way, the way of independence.
Lost in thoughts he walked down the companionway and entered Rowan's cabin.
"Jacky-boy!" Rowan stretched out her good arm to give him an enthusiastic welcome. The blanket she'd been tucked in slid off her naked shoulders and revealed a good amount of golden tanned skin. "Come 'ere cutie."
Jack frowned. Though he definitely liked it when women gave him enthusiastic welcomes, he was a bit bewildered by her behavior. She was somehow different today. He stepped closer and sat down next to her on the bed. "Are ye alright luv?"
"Missed ye." Clumsily she patted his cheeks then she got hold of one of his dreadlocks; the pearls attached to it started to jingle and she giggled, rattling with it. "'ave ye missed me too?"
"Darling ye're drunk." Jack tried to free himself of her grip before she could tear out his hair. Immediately she pulled a defiant face and started moaning.
"Nah- not drunk. Mean pirate." Then she snuggled herself up to him, rested her head on his chest and gave him a slightly idiotic smile, blinking green eyes at him. "'ello me fav'rite pirate. Ye've so lovely choc… chocolata… no, chocolate eyes, ye know?" Once again she reached out for his hair but then she decided otherwise and grabbed his twin beard instead. "WANT A KISSSS!"
"Ouch! That hurts."
Rowan looked at him cross-eyed, feeling rejected and affronted. "Ye don't wanna kiss me." she whined and crawled back under the sheets, sniffing.
"Hey, 'course I wanna kiss ye but ye don't have to tear out my hair." Jack gently touched her shoulder but she just covered her head with her blanket, still sniffing defiantly like a little girl who hadn't gotten what she wanted. Amused by her drunken ways Jack lifted the blanket and started to nuzzle her hair when she suddenly flung her good arm around his neck.
"Ge' off!" She hiced, shaking her head in confusion. "Nah, I mean, get off yer clothes 'n com' 'ere."
Jack thought that it would be a good idea to join her and hold her tight, hoping she'd fall asleep then. He'd never seen her so drunk before and though it was somehow amusing, she really needed some sleep now. He gave her a kiss and at once she started giggling again.
"Yer beard tick…tickles." Since that had been such a funny feeling- she was absolutely sure that she'd never noticed it before no matter how often they'd kissed- she pressed her lips on his again. Then something else distracted her. "Ummm, Capt'n Sparrow ye taste like rum. Want more rum. Where's me rum?"
Oddly, and he had thought that she would be the only one of them who tasted of rum since she had also been the only one of them who had been drinking.
Rowan bent across the edge of her bed and scanned the floor. "Rum? Here rummy, rummy, rummy. Where 're ye? Ah- there you've hidden, ye mean, malic'sss bottle."
"No, no, no." Jack swiftly took the bottle from her hand and placed it out of range. Immediately that defiant little girl look appeared on her face again. "Listen darling why don't we just go to bed and sleep a little while?"
"Ye wanna sleep wit' me?" Now she fluttered her lashes at him and grinned broadly. "Naughty boy."
Well, though he'd never minded to lay a drunken women before he didn't want to lay a drunken and wounded woman who simply wasn't herself tonight. Nevertheless it was hard to resist when she cuddled herself comfortably into his arms, entwining her legs with his. She looked dreamily at him, her fingertips danced playfully across her chest- and only a minute later she'd fallen asleep. Jack sighed with relief, then he shifted carefully not to wake her again and extinguished the candle.
Rowan awoke when a warm golden light fell in her cabin. She lifted an eye and blinked at the light but her head protested painfully so she closed her eye again. Her head didn't feel much better though. Have I been drinking? she wondered and tried to recollect the previous day. Then she noticed that she wasn't alone in her bed, Jack was with her. Ah, I must have been drinking with Jack… She turned around in order to snuggle up to him but her insides were having a wild party and she wasn't invited. Laying still on her back and breathing carefully she waited for the nausea to disappear. At that moment she suddenly got aware of her left arm, which hurt, so she had to open her eyes once more to take a look at it. This time the light was less painful. Her eyes wandered down at her left side and she saw a bandage wrapped around her arm. At once the memories came flowing back. Isla de Muerta… Statue of Nirrti…Norrington… a shot. I'm wounded but there's something of major importance I absolutely have to tell Jack and Marris, concerning Elisabeth. ELISABETH!
Rowan sat up with a start but neither her head nor her stomach appreciated that. She remembered now that Marris had tended her wound and therefore he'd given her some rum… her eyes fell on the threequarters empty bottle on the floor just out of range from the bed and she had to correct herself- ok, he got me pickled with almost two bottles of rum in order to fix my wound. So what?
Yet that's all she could remember. Marris had put her to bed, fluffed the pillows and tucked her up. After that nothing but total emptiness, a dark void in her head. She didn't even know when Jack had come to bed. It must have been late because he was still sound asleep and that surprised her, knowing he usually woke up at the slightest sound. Tenderly she brushed his lips with hers. He didn't stir; he just pulled a content face and kept on sleeping.
She didn't want to disturb him, besides she had other needs that had to be satisfied- like pouring a bucketful of water over her aching head or calming her stomach down with a good cup of tea.
Her crew smirked when she appeared on deck and actually did pour a bucket of water over her head. Then, shaking drops out of her hair, she replied their smirks.
"Hey, what's up boys? Never seen yer captain with a hangover?"
Of course they had, many times, and even if some of them teased her a bit these jests were good-natured since they were happy to see her well.
"I've heard Marris had to do some stitching?" someone said.
"Bah! Back to work ye scabby dogs."
Laughing they obeyed her order though none of them had really neglected his duty while making jokes. Rashid proved his knack in doing the right things at the right time by popping up on deck with a mug of steaming, freshly brewed up first flush Darjeeling and handed it to Rowan so that she could take care of more significant things. Sipping her tea she climbed the stairs to the afterdeck in order to hear from McCoy what had happened lately.
He informed her that they'd lost sight of the Huntress at dusk but that Marris apparently knew where the ship was heading, therefore the course had been set for Port Royal. Then he lingered on the weird deeds Santiago had done but Rowan wasn't in the mood to hear about weird things at the moment. She wanted to do something, like taking over the helm for instance. Yet McCoy wouldn't let her. Frowning he looked at her bandaged arm and tsked.
"Sailed on merchants ships once, ye know? Never saw a captain working there. They spent their time barking orders or punishing the sailors when they're not dining with their officers or noble passengers."
Rowan rolled her eyes. She had heard that story many times before, actually every time when her perfectionist mind told her to do all the work aboard by herself and her crew thought she should slow down.
"Ah, so what d'ye want me to do now? Bark orders or punish ye for speaking up yer mind? Unfortunately there are neither officers amongst pirates nor any noble passengers aboard I could dine with." She snorted and went to the rail, looking across the sea. The problem with a crew of good and loyal men was that they cared too much for her and exactly that was the problem sometimes. She needed some action to forget her hangover. It was boring just to stare at the sea.
Rowan put one leg on the rail and stretched it. For a moment her muscles protested, reminding her that she'd been quite lazy with her exercises lately. Too much booze and too much toying around with a certain pirate captain- she grinned at that thought. Well I've just done different exercises. Yet it definitely was time for a little body work-out now. She repeated that procedure with her other leg before she went over to some Tai-Chi practices and then she thought it really annoying that she couldn't use her left arm properly since it still hurt. Nevertheless she continued best as possible, performing a strange mixture of Tai-Chi and kick-boxing combined with sword fighting.
McCoy shook his head. "Why can't ye just take things easy and relax?"
"Because…" She raised her sword as if she wanted to parry an invisible opponent's stroke. "…I don't wanna get wounded again. And…" Spinning on one foot and she kicked out with the other. "… because I wanna be damned sure that next time I meet Norrington I'll be well-prepared, because next time I meet him I'm gonna beat the hell outta him." Then she made a thrust forward like running her sword through someone. "Savvy?"
"Aye Captain." Would it make any sense at all to remind her that she'd suffered a gunshot wound and had not been beaten in a sword fight, therefore she didn't have to train for a fight? McCoy wondered. Yet she had never been the one to relax and take it easy, of course she'd continue her training. After all, she was the toughest woman he'd ever met and though she knew that she didn't have to prove herself to her crew, she did it regardless. That's what he wished she'd slow down a bit. Then he watched Jack Sparrow watching her. Mayhap the infamous pirate captain could persuade her to take things easier.
Jack had watched her ever since he'd appeared on deck and simply couldn't take his eyes off her. He liked the way she moved, spinning swift and kicking hard, a female whirlwind. Suddenly she jumped down the stairs to the main deck where he was standing and tickled his throat with the tip of her blade.
"Hi darling, fancy a little bit of training?"
His smile froze since he was in a real dilemma now. On the one hand he'd sworn never to raise his blade against women but on the other hand he couldn't back out either. Everyone aboard seemed to stare at him, waiting for his next move. They wanted to see whether he could stand against Rowan or not and that's why he had to cross blades with the woman he'd rather bed than fight. But most of all he didn't want them to think he might be was scared of a practice bout with their captain or- even worse, that he was a coward. He was Captain Jack Sparrow, therefore he definitely wasn't scared and since he knew quite well how to entertain an audience he'd give them the show they wanted to see. And then he could still take her to bed…
"D'ye think it's wise crossing blades with a pirate, luv?" He asked smirking, running his blade along hers with a screeching sound.
"Bah!" She snorted and raised her sword to shove him back. "Is that all ye've got to offer?"
"Gimme time to warm up an' I'll show ye more."
Their blades met a couple of times, beat and counter beat, but it was more like an idle playing around, the ordinary game of attack, parry and riposte, still easy-going in strength and speed. They circled right, then left, interchanging some simple strokes in order to find out how the other one reacted and cautiously watching each other's movements.
Soon Rowan got bored so she increased the speed in order to prove him that he should stop worrying about her. It didn't take long and Jack sat surprised and unarmed on the main deck.
"Tsk- what did ye wanna show me?" She teased him. "Better watch yer defence."
Jack quickly jumped to his feet again, trying to ignore the cheers of her crew. They seemed to be very pleased that Rowan had gained the upper hand over him for a moment but Captain Jack Sparrow wasn't to be beaten by a woman. He gave up his scruples about fighting a woman and tried to catch her off guard but she blocked his attack immediately. Their blades met with a rattling sound. So they were back to those gliding beats and forced glides he liked so much- he almost seemed to be flirting with his cutlass- but instead of pushing him back she leaned closer to him.
"All that rum ye drink slows ye down, my dear."
"Ha- who of us tried to charm a bottle of rum last night?" He imitated her voice. "Here rummy, rummy, rummy…"
Rowan blushed. She vaguely remembered dangling over the edge of bed- but that was no reason for him to remind her nor to show off. It was time to teach him some respect.
Jack had to admit that he'd underestimated her. In fact, she gave him quite a hard time, chasing him up and down the afterdeck. Although she definitely wasn't strong enough to beat him, she compensated for her lack of strength with speed and some very unique strategies, including her amazing footwork. And since she knew damned well that she couldn't beat him in a fair fight she didn't even bother to fight fair.
After a while of crossing blades under the hot Caribbean sun Jack had figured her out. He could predict her next charge when she jump forward while lunging but he evaded her and seized her blade. Now they were quite close with Rowan off balance and at a serious disadvantage. Actually there was no chance left for her except- his eyes widened.
"No!" He yelled. "I admire yer footwork but don't do that!"
Rowan lowered her weapon, not defeated but she gave up. "Don't worry, darling. I definitely won't hurt yer most precious parts."
Jack sighed with relief. "Good. It's only for your best, ye know. Now come here and give the winner a little kiss."
"Winner?" She arched a brow at him, slightly annoyed with his impertinent manner. "Ye didn't beat me- I spared ye."
Quite content she turned around and headed for the companionway in order to get out of the sun since she was streaming with sweat and feeling a bit dizzy. But before she could reach her cabin she was suddenly roughly pinned against the wall, Jack's face close to hers, his hands strong on her shoulders.
"I won." He stressed and moved even closer, pressing his hips possessively against hers.
For a moment Rowan wished she hadn't spared him. Narrowed green eyes shot him a defiant look when his devilish tongue wet his lips in anticipation yet her treacherous body reacted wantonly, very well aware of his masculine and intimate proximity. She tried hard to hide the strong feelings of lust that crawled up within her..
"Just admit it and I won't tell anybody that ye couldn't beat me… a woman." She whispered hoarsely in a last attempt to resist him but failed.
"But ye couldn't beat me either." Jack grumbled stubbornly before he finally ended that ineffective discussion by claiming her lips with wild determination, invading her mouth with his ravaging tongue.
Rowan groaned and replied to his kiss with the same mad ferocity though she despised herself for being so such a spineless creature. She should have… no matter- it was just too good, too right to worry about what she should have done instead of kissing him.
Entwined in their embrace they stumbled down the last few steps of the companionway to her cabin door, crashing against it, still kissing passionately. With one hand Rowan groped for the handle and opened the door before they surrendered to lust just here and now, pounced upon each other without consideration about where they were. Then, staggering eagerly towards the bed Jack and Rowan got caught in the act by a familiar voice.
"Hope you're having fun, kids."
Rowan winced and whirled around to see Santiago sitting in on of the chairs next to the table. "Bloody hell! How dare to startle me that way? Never do that again, savvy!" Running her fingers through her hair she gave him a closer look. "Besides, what're ye doin' here anyway? How did ye manage to sneak into my cabin?"
Jack elbowed her. "Hey, he's a magician, therefore he's definitely able to…" Suddenly he fell silent and his face became worried. "Alf? Are ye alright, mate? Ye look deadly pale, ye know."
"Ah, thanks for noticing," the Spaniard snorted sardonically. Should I mention that everyone would look tired after mentally fighting an evil magician? No. Also there's no use to tell them that every single teleport is exhausting and I've done a lot recently. Maybe too many… His thoughts were interrupted by Jack who offered him a glass of rum- apparently his favourite cure-all.
"Here, this might help."
Santiago took a sip and relaxed, flashing the pirate a thankful smile. "Good boy," he whispered barely audible.
"What about Elisabeth?" Rowan asked impatiently.
Santiago sighed wearily. "She won't be in danger before tomorrow night at new moon."
"Ah, that's some comfort. So we've got plenty of time…"
"No need to get sarcastic my dear girl." The Spaniard cut her short but his voice was still low, calm and thoughtful. "Do you think I don't know what kind of trouble is awaiting us? You're not the only one who knows of the dark ritual that has to take place in order to wake the Goddess Nirrti and I'm also well aware of the ritual act that has to be performed. You can be sure that that is something I want to spare Elisabeth."
"Aye, but it's not the perverted act that really matters but the symbolism." Rowan ran her fingers through her hair again, thinking hard about the missing part in that puzzle. Ratbone alias Anirvan had the Chalice of Doom, he had the Statue of Nirrti, and in Norrington he also had an obedient servant who happened to be in love with the sacrifice, Elisabeth. Yet Norrington would kill her without even batting an eyelash as soon as his master gave him the order. So far it was all known, the only question remaining was where that was going to happen? She remembered Jack pulling a disgusted face, saying d'ye mean Norrington and Elisabeth… on a crematorium ground…
"Is there a crematorium ground in Jamaica?" She asked and started to rummage frantically through her charts and maps, looking for the very detailed map of Jamaica she'd used when she'd freed Jack from jail. Jack- for a moment she got distracted by shooting him a surreptitious gaze- never thought I'd ever fall in love with that scoundrel, then.
"No. Rowan, stop flicking through your maps because they won't tell you more than you should already know. Think about it- Jamaica is an English colony, therefore it is christianised, and therefore you'll certainly not find any crematorium ground on that island. People who die get a decent burial in a graveyard, in consecrated soil. You should know that, my dear."
"Um… now you're wrong, Alf." Jack interjected thoughtfully. He bent down to have a closer look at the map Rowan had spread out on the table, then he glanced at the Spaniard again. "The Spanish Main was only called the Spanish Main after the first Spaniards showed up, slaying the natives that lived here. Well, though all Tainos were killed their artefacts are still present. There are carvings 'n paintings of them, ritual places, burial grounds- Well, considering that that ritual's supposed to take place at a very gloomy and somehow eerie place like a crematorium ground with lost souls lingering around and all that stuff, the odd graveyard is ruled out because of its holy soil. Not a good place for an evil magician, right? But it seems to me that a cave the Tainos used for their 'heathen' ceremonies would suit good ol' Ratbone quite well for his evil deeds, agreed?"
Santiago stared like one hypnotised at Jack's whirling, wagging hands with which the pirate underlined his words. It was because of these eccentric gestures he sometimes forgot that Jack Sparrow was not only a smart ass but also a very bright lad, while he himself had just proved to be a stupid fool. All the time he'd wondered why Norrington kept Elisabeth captive in a cave, not guessing that the answer was so simple. He laughed tiredly.
"What?" Jack snapped, misinterpreting Santiago's laughter as the usual slagging off.
"You're so correct with your assumption, my dear boy…"
"Ah." The pirate grinned broadly and bowed exaggeratedly to the elder man, faking a wai in his typically Jack Sparrow way, but inwardly he secretly glowed with delight because it had been a very long time since Alf had praised him last. Yet that was no reason at all to allow Alf to pat his cheeks as if he was still a little boy so he shrank away. Rowan couldn't keep back an amused smirk while Alf seemed a little absent-minded, babbling about a cave.
"… a labyrinth of caves interconnected with tunnels in the limestone hills. There are swallows and fish eating bats, and the cave Norrington holds Elisabeth captive in contains a petroglyph, a rock carving of a face- probably of an ancient and long forgotten deity." He paused for a moment, biting his lips. "I wanted to save her, take her away from there, but failed. Anirvan noticed my presence; his spirit located mine on a magical level and we spent endless hours in a mental fight until I gave up and fled. He's strong though he has not regained his full strength yet."
Rowan began to feel uneasy. She had never seen Santiago so tired and exhausted before, never so despondent, almost disillusioned. Now that was really worrisome and not a good sign at all. They should be up to defeating that repulsive creep instead of knuckling down to him. She glanced to Jack who studied the map again, muttering something to himself, and she didn't like that either.
"What's on yer mind?"
Jack chose to ignore her and addressed Alf instead. "Is that cave somewhere near Port Royal by chance?"
The Spaniard just nodded lost in his thoughts.
"Ha!" With unnerving calmness Jack bend over the map again, running his finger across it until he finally circled an area, a contend smile on his face. That was too much for Rowan. She thumped on the table with her fist. "Damn it, talk to me!"
Jack stared at her dumbfounded, not knowing what he'd done wrong. "What d'ye wanna hear, luv?"
"Come on, it's really not the right time for any egocentric solo efforts. Share yer brilliance with me, darling."
No one else could give the word 'darling' such a sharp and dangerous undertone like she could. It dawned on him that she probably wanted to know what he knew and what his plan was. Well, that was exactly the problem. Oh, of course he had a plan, he always had a plan- or at least a vague idea of a plan- but he wasn't used to sharing it. A mutiny can teach you a lot of things, better not trust anyone and play it close to your chest. Yet that wouldn't do with Rowan. She was right, they had to stick together and besides, she deserved being trusted.
"Well, take a look." He pointed at some hills located south-west of Port Royal. "These are the Hellshire Hills and here close to that beach are the caves Alf has described. The Tainos used them for ceremonial purpose once and later they became popular with the rum-runners since the lower caves have an access to the sea for small boats." Jack shrugged sighing. "Unfortunately Commodore Norrington ended the glorious era by hunting down most of the rum-runners and that's why ye can hardly get any decent rum in Port Royal nowadays- at least none at a fair price. Savvy?"
"Hmm…" Rowan brushed an unruly wisp of hair out of her face and pinned it behind her ear while still looking at the map. "So we're gonna enter the caves like the smugglers did, mess up the ritual and save Elisabeth? Is that yer plan?"
"Nope. We can't weigh anchor anywhere near Hellshire Beach if we wanna bring the moment of surprise into play. Therefore I'd say…" His fingertip glided to a bay with many offshore islands on the other side of Hellshire Hills "…we weigh anchor somewhere here. We go ashore, sneak through the forest towards the caves and then we mess up the ritual and save Elisabeth. Of course, Alf has to take care of Ratbone since he's the only magician of us- so what d'ye say? Alf?"
"Si, I'll take care of Anirvan." Santiago replied in a tone that wasn't very encouraging. Wearily he got up of his chair and kissed Rowan's as well as Jack's forehead. "Take a rest my dear ones."
Rubbing his forehead Jack watched Santiago leaving the cabin. "Gosh, Alf has always been a weird guy but today he really scared me."
"Aye." Rowan uncorked a bottle of wine and filled two glasses. "I really hope he's just dreadfully tired because I've never seen him so despondent and almost discouragingly disillusioned before."
"Ah that. I was just alluding to the fact that he kissed me."
"I hope ye get over that shock." She passed him a glass, trying to fake a smile but failed. "Honestly, Jack, don't ye think that's worrisome?"
Jack drank a sip of wine and noticed astounded that he liked the taste meanwhile. The wine she offered always tasted of sunlit hills with ripening grapes, sweet kisses on a lazy morning, and blissful nights spent making love. But most of all it tasted of her. He sat down on the bed and opened his arms invitingly. "Come here, luv, stop worrying."
"I don't know if I'm really in that mood." Rowan replied but sat down next to him anyway, resting her head on his shoulder. The wild ecstasy of lust had faded when they entered her cabin and now it seemed to be enough to share at least a little proximity. "Let's just go to bed, aye?"
Take a rest. Now how ironical does that sound when the one who said it was also the one who had given you a lot to think about- discouraging thoughts, by the way. Rowan couldn't sleep. Actually she couldn't even think of sleep since her mind was much too preoccupied with worries. She crawled closer to Jack, enjoying the warmth of his body and listening to his steady heartbeat. It reminded her that they were still alive, nothing was lost yet, things could still turn out right and kissing them resignedly was not Santiago's way of saying goodbye, not a final gesture. She tossed and turned but always ended up cuddling closer to Jack's warm embrace, wishing she could crawl straight inside him.
"Why d'ye never worry 'bout anything?" She whispered thoughtfully, not aware that he didn't sleep either and might have heard that.
"But I do." Jack admitted in the same low tone, almost inaudible. Actually I worry about a lot of things and I also know the meaning of fear. I fear mutinies, being marooned on godforsaken islands… I fear losing my Pearl again… but most of all I fear losing you. He hugged her tightly yet that didn't seem to be enough, he wanted to be closer to her, as close as possible. "Come here."
He kissed her tenderly and when they made love it wasn't for lust but for the desperate need to feel secure in each other's embrace, the need for physical proximity and spiritual intimacy. For a long time they forgot all troubles that worried them, remembering the love they shared and trying to keep in mind every kiss, every touch, every single caress. None of both knew what would be expecting them when they reached Jamaica, whether their adventure would turn out well or not, or if they would still be alive tomorrow. Maybe they only had this night left.
After making love their bodies had sated their needs and their limbs felt sleepily relaxed, but their minds couldn't come to rest. Entwined in their embrace neither Rowan nor Jack could sleep but they were also too tired to talk. Silent they held each other tight as if they'd never let go- until they heard the call 'Land ahoy' from deck.
Rowan shuddered involuntary. She bent her head to kiss Jack once more before she rose from the bed and though she had expected to feel worn out by the lack of sleep, she wasn't. Instead she felt partly fresh, strangely calm and reassured in every way, but most of all very determined.
"Let's go and kick some ass! By the way, Norrington's mine."
12