Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own nothing and any stories you hear were lies I tell you, lies...

"this was a somewhat ill-conceived plan," Faramir muttered through his teeth as he clung to the side of the ship, the dark water below lapping at the side of the vessel.

Jack rolled his eyes.

The ledge that ran the length of the ship was big enough for a grown man to stand on...Just...Well, almost. As long as the man in question didn't plan on moving a lot and wasn't bothered by the idea of an impromptu swim. Jack idly wondered how boyant Faramir's armour was.

"Listen," Jack sighed, "if I know Barbossa--and believe me I do, he'll be wanting to line hos pockets with as much as he can, before he leaves and that is really not good news for you lot." Plus he added in his own mind, if Barbossa has found a way back, I want to know about it.

The light from the captain's cabin on the Pearl shone flame on the surface of the black water far below. The mist had lifted slightly and the moon was just visible. Barbossa's voice was muffled, but still audible in the still night.

"Osgiliath, ye say? Well thats very interesting mister, but may I ask what your business is with me? What is it that you get from me sacking the city?"

Raiis' voice had a sneering, self-important air to it.

"My good sir," he oozed, "an entrepeneur such as myself is always happy to find new opportunities. The new king of Gondor is...shall we say...bad for my business."

"Osgiliath?" Faramir breathed, "those devils!"

"Quite." Jack muttered, raising his eyebrow.

"I've had enough" Faramir hissed, "I have to return to the city to warn them and to support a strengthened garrison."

Jack hissed "No! not yet!" but Faramir was making his way back towards the gangplank, via which they had got to the ship. He was undoubtedly very young, agile and very coreageous, but he hadn't seen what Jack had seen. His old friends, Ragetti and Pintel, crouched on the gangplank watching Faramir as below he unwittingly moved into the moonlight. At least, Jack thought, they looked like Ragetti and Pintel, but there was something different about them. They looked a lot thinner for a start...

Eowyn, passing the docks, had seen the man on the ship also, and after just a few heartbeats, knew that it was Faramir. She had also seen the two pirates on the gangplank, waiting for him. But she was still to far away to help, and her cry would not have carried, and if it had may only have made matters worse. She watched helpless, therefore, as the pirates leaned over, one grabbing Faramir's arm, the other hiting him methodically over the head. His unconscious form was dragged onto the gangplank and slowly onto the ship.

Jack pulled himself onto the quay, sea water running off him. Sitting on the side, legs hanging over the side, he fished around hopefully inside his wet clothing and triumphantly withdrew a silver flask, still filled with good old Carribean rum. He took a large swig and stared pondorously at the lights of The Pearl. Shame about the kid, but it was hardly Jack's fault. He had told him to be careful...In fact, Jack clearly remembered telling him...but the boy had definately not listened. It was really unfortunate, that the boy hadn't chosen his friends more carefully, but that wasn't Jacks problem. Jack would survive. Good old Jack. The flask was empty. Jack lifted it and peered into the small black hole. Not a drop left for poor old Jack...Ah well, give it time, and he'd be home again and then...All the rum he could drink. There was an itchiness in his ear, and he fished around in the orifice with a finger until he located a hermit crab that had abandoned its shell in favour of the new, promising location of Jack's earlobe.

"Bugger off," he flicked the defenceless shellfish back into the sea with a 'plop', and set about clearing seaweed off his coat, when he was suddenly inconvenienced for the second time that night. A sword was pushed into his back and a low voice said, in no uncertain terms. "If you don't want to know the colour of your entrails, Pirate, I suggest you think very carefully about how you are going to help me get my betrothed back."

Looking behind him...very slowly, and saw a pale face, in which two bright eyes burned like pools of dark fire in the night. This person wasn't like the kid...She meant business.