Another lovely long chapter for your reading pleasure... Sorry about the swordfight scene, it all played out so vividly in my head - but would it consent to be commited to print? Not really...
Oh, and to answer the question of my most dedicated reviewing - KrazieShadowNinja - the romance is on it's way! Patience, my dear, is a virture :)
That night I got into bed without a word and lay with the covers pulled tight about me, pretending to be asleep. If Anamaria noticed my silence, she said nothing. As it was, she was just as morose as me.
What could I do? Sparrow might be killed and that hideous, blustering braggart would be our captain. On the other hand, Sparrow seemed half mad and fully drunk most of the time, surely it would be better for the crew to have a sober, sound minded man at the helm, however odious? And what of me, Jeff had as good as promised to take me home, could I trust him? And if not, should I bring myself to trust Sparrow?
Undecided, I fell into an uneasy, feverish sleep with dark dreams. I awoke an hour before dawn, with a pounding head and the pain in my ear worse than the day before. Realising that further sleep would be impossible, I dressed with the utmost quietness to avoid waking Anamaria and made my way onto the deck, with a mind to clear my head and come to a decision about the knowledge I carried while there was still time.
Outside, the sky was dim, illuminated in the east by the faintest streaks of jaundiced light. There was not a cloud to be seen and I had every reason to fear today would be just as stifling as yesterday. Even at this early hour, the wind was slack and warm. The night watch were just coming off duty, to be replaced with my companions from last night. I could see Duncan moving amongst the off duty watch, evidently spreading the news about the days events. Most seemed surprised, then wary at the prospect, but a few were visibly revived and called out a cry of companionship to Jeff, who was striding around deck, grinning heartily. With his rocking sailor's gate, he reminded me of nothing so much of a toy I had as a child – a figure of a man, round-bottomed and weighted so however much you pushed it, it would only roll and wobble about the floor, a fixed smile on it's spherical face.
I sat alone on the forecastle, letting the salt spray revive me and bring some relief from the oppressive weather. It maddened me to be of unclear mind about such things. I, stubborn and perceptive Catherine, quavering, undecided, like a kicked dog. I tried to force my mind to a verdict, but my thoughts danced around the issue and would not be applied. My head wound from the day before still throbbed at me grievously, and I found no peace.
The crew went about their duties, I watched, still unresolved. Gibbs was at the helm, with a grim look on his face, and amongst the others there was a feeling of tension and expectancy. Jeff did no work, but sat on a barrel, fully in sight of the Boatswain, sharpening his longsword on a whetstone.
Behind Gibbs, I watched the sliver of light grow and bloom and I realised time had made my choice for me - I had deceived Anamaria and put her captain at mortal risk! Heavy was my heart as Jeff stood and called out to his watch:
"Tis dawn lads." As one man, the crew downed tools and, with Jeff at the lead made their way to Sparrow's door – three heavy knocks were given. "Captain Jack Sparrow. You have done wrong by us, and strayed from the Code. Come out and face your judgement." Intoned Jeff, with what I felt was unnecessary ceremony.
The door was opened, and the crew parted, so Sparrow and Jeff stood alone.
"What's this Cannonball?" The Captain asked. He was dressed in shirtsleeves, but had had the acumen to throw a brace of pistols about his chest, and held his cutlass in hand. Jeff answered, in that same serious, lawyerly tone.
"You've played us for fools, by setting us to raids we won't profit from, contrary to the articles every man jack of us aboard this vessel has signed. Will you give us our rightful share in our prize?" Jack snorted.
"Your prize is the Pearl, as we agreed when we…"
"No Capt'n." it was Duncan, redder than ever, his flat sailors cap clutching tightly in his hands. "I want no part in this, Capt'n, but we never did agree." Duncan and Sparrow stared at each other, if a jug of milk had stood them, it would have soured. Jeff took his moment, and cleared his throat thickly.
"I intend to depose you as captain, and challenge you to a duel to those ends." In response to this, Jack turned away from Duncan slowly and smiled, throwing his cutlass from hand to hand slightly, making sure Jeff's eyes were firmly fixed on it before he answered.
"Do ye now?"
"Aye" Again, that smirk, almost as if he was trying to stifle amusement at the situation. Never before have I seen a man so well at ease in the face of death.
"And is this the will of the crew?"
"Aye" Said Jeff again, speaking quickly and loudly, with a fierce glare at his companions, who answered in kind, though with rather less conviction.
"Aye." Sparrow repeated, thoughtfully and under his breath.
The situation progressed with the same perverted sense of ceremony, Sparrow, as standing Captain, named his quartermaster to oversee the duel. Each man was allowed one sword and one pistol, with one shot, with the provision that pistols were only to be used if swords were disposed of.
The silence on deck was such that you could hear each break of waves against the hull, and each snap of the sails as they caught the slack breeze. Wordlessly, Sparrow and Cannonball stood back to back in a centre of a circle, surrounded by the whole crew, the night watch having forgone rest to see the outcome. On Anamaria's word they both stepped forward three paces, turned and drew their swords.
For a moment neither moved, and from my vantagepoint on the forecastle I watched eagerly. The two men each made the measure of the other with their eyes. One tall and stout, with all the apparent advantages of size, but already sweating under the morning sun. The other shorter and lighter by a good stretch, and moving with a dancer's ease in his worn seaboots. I was just pondering which I would back, had I the advantage of an impartial mind, when Jeff made the first move,
It was a clumsy thrust, but heavy and powerful. Sparrow however parried it easily, and with a step back and a deft flick of his sword, was out of harms way. In a moment, Jeff bore down on him again, each of his blows warded off with the same accomplished parries.
Despite Jeff's strong attacking stance, it was his captain who drew first blood, evidently growing annoyed with evading his coarse swipes, he stepped easily aside and struck the broad man across the thick of his back, leaving a tattered shirt and a wide, but shallow cut.
"Do you forfeit?" He asked immediately, springing back to avoid Jeff's swinging sword.
"Never!" Was the heavily breathed reply.
For a while longer they danced around like this. I could see Jeff's cut back was causing him pain and slowing him down, but even so, through sheer persistence and force of his offensive Sparrow was having to make some quick moves. Jeff was fat now, but you could see he had once been burly and strong. As he moved, his muscles remembered that time. Seeing, perhaps, the anger which drove Jeff, Sparrow stepped back and asked:
"You really mean to kill me then, and become captain?"
"Yes, you blithering fop!" Jeff replied, aiming a heavy stroke for Sparrow's hand, which he only narrowly missed.
There was a change in Sparrow's stance then – instead of being poised for constant movement, he stood straighter and taller, talking a few steps towards Jeff as their swords clashed together.
"Anamaria!" he called, without turning his head away from his opponent. "You heard that?"
"Aye" Was the weary reply.
The captain now took the offensive, aiming at Jeff with quick graceful thrusts. For a while the tall man held up admirably, but his wound, and his lack of agility were working heavily against him now. He parried late on a high thrust from Sparrow, and his sword was knocked out of his hand, before he could reach for his pistol, Sparrow had brought his left hand down over his sword, and with a deep breath plunged it into Cannonball Jeff's gut.
I flinched, and instinctively looked away. When I could bear to uncover my eyes, Jeff was lying on his back, the Captain's sword still sticking out of him, like a flagpost on some gory conquest.
Sparrow stood above him, so pale under his swarthy tan to appear almost grey. His hands were visibly shaking as he addressed his crew.
"Do any of you now oppose me?" He asked in a tired voice, as if reading from a script. With silence for his answer, he made his way to the helm and altered our course slightly to the north, in an attempt to catch the evasive wind. The crew got to work under his orders, and it was left to the night watch to give Jeff his last respects – "one, two, heave!" and the body splashed into the deep.
Anamaria was left standing on deck, hands on hips, apparently deep in thought. After a while a decision was evidently made, and she strode off to the galley.
The heat on deck was now beginning to match yesterday's, and it was only a moment before I joined her.
I found her sitting cross-legged on a barrel of salt beef, head in hands, bowed so low it was almost in her lap, crying with the abandonment of a child.
"Ana!" She looked up as I came in, wiping her nose with gusto on her coat sleeve. In a moment I had my arms about her. "Don't cry! My god, don't cry for that idiot." I muttered, stroking her hand. "He's been planning this, and he really meant to kill the Captain you know – I think he really hated him…."
"That's not why I'm crying, its…" She tailed off, and looked up, her watery dark eyes boring into mine. "You knew?"
"Pardon?"
"You knew he would call a duel?" For an answer I blushed deeply from neck to ears. "How long?" She snapped
"Only since last night."
"You didn't tell me." She muttered, suddenly jumping off the barrel and kicking it as hard has she could. "You bloody well didn't tell me!" She screamed "You didn't tell me! Jack could be dead, Jesus" she swallowed down a sob "Jack could be dead and you didn't tell me!"
"I'm sorry, Ana." And for a moment, I truly thought she would draw her cutlass on me, her hand hovered at her hip, I saw it and she knew I did. Her eye met mine for a beat, then she took a deep breath.
"You conspired against the Captain, as Quartermaster I have to punish you."
"Ana, no!" I cried out, dismayed "I'm your friend."
"Friend?" She bellowed in my face, composure suddenly lost – she grabbed me by the hair and lead me across the deck to the captain's quarters, calling out to Sparrow as she did so "Jack, this lubber of a mutineeress needs to be punished!" In a voice I believe no man would have dared argue with. In a flash he was down off the quarterdeck and had joined us in the cabin. Ana threw me down on the floor and she stood over me, with Sparrow beside her.
"Jack, I bring this crewmember up for the crimes of conspiring to mutiny, and murder her captain and withholding information from officers."
The Captain raised his eyebrows and peered down at me.
"Her?" He asked
"Yes, her!" Ana's sails were still up. "The articles demand she must be punished, they state twenty lashes…."
"Chirst Anamaria." Sparrow cut in, taken aback by her ferociousness. "Take some air, will you?" She left in a flurry of injured pride.
"Now then, my little shipmate – what exactly is it that you've supposed to have done?" He asked, offering me his hand, I took it, and we sat down at his table.
"I knew about Mr. Jeff's mutiny. I overheard him and his men talking last night."
"Makes no matter to me love, if I knew I would have still faced him in honest light of day – savvy?"
"Um, yes, quite." I replied, seeing my opportunity, having the Captain alone I continued; "He also said that if he was Captain, he'd take me home."
"Did he now." Sparrow put his feet up on the table and smirked.
"Yes sir, he did – what have you to say to that?"
"My mission cannot be halted for the likes of you, love."
"Oh yes, your mission!" I spat out, frustration causing me to loose all composure. "Your mission which puts all your men at risk, with no gains but to save your own sorry skin!"
"Not me love, to save my ship." He spoke rather sharply, and I rejoiced in finally having had an effect on this unflappable man. A gap in his armour.
"Your ship – ha! Not worth it, in my opinion." At this, he stood up and leant his face close to mine; his expression all lines and angles.
"And for what cause, young missy, would you kill a man?"