Four - Best Laid Plans

Commodore Norrington rapped sharply on the door of the smithy. Before he could even step back and wait to be admitted, the door swung open, and young William Turner stared expectantly out into the darkening streets. Norrington cleared his throat, and Turner, seeing for the first time who his guest was, frowned.

"Commodore! I… wasn't expecting you," Turner said. "If you're here to see my master, I'm sorry, but he's out. I can tell him that you called, but…"

James allowed himself a half smile at Turner's obvious confusion. "It's you I've come to talk to," he said at last. "May I come in?"

Tuner remembered his manners at last, and invited James inside. Though it was late in the evening, the heat that still rose from the cooling forge made the workshop almost unbearably hot. James resisted the urge to shake off his coat and studied Turner's rack of completed blades instead. He could feel the young man eyeing him warily, but he did not let Turner's suspicion goad him into speaking too quickly.

At last, when it seemed that the Turner boy was about to burst from nervous curiosity, James broke the silence.

"Jack Sparrow is to be hanged tomorrow," he said.

"I haven't forgotten," Turner said quietly. There was steel in his young voice, the Commodore would grant him that.

James bent to inspect one of the swords more closely. It was a plain blade, not a showpiece, but it had a practical, deadly elegance. With his back still to Turner, he continued, "It would be a shame if anything were to happen to disrupt the carrying out of Sparrow's sentence."

He turned then and looked at Turner. His face had gone pale beneath its covering of soot and dust.

"You're accusing me of plotting to free Jack?" Turner said angrily.

"I know you, Mr. Turner, and I am sure beyond the slightest possibility of doubt that you are planning something."

As usual, acting as if he already knew with absolute certainty things he did not know worked to the Commodore's advantage.

"You can't know that!" Turner exclaimed. "Which of us would have told y—" he stopped in mid-word, realizing he'd said too much.

James nodded. It was as he'd suspected. Elizabeth had to be the other whom Turner spoke of, and if it hurt him that she would plot with Turner to rescue Jack under his very nose, he was gracious enough not to show it.

"So you've come to warn me, or to threaten me?" Turner demanded.

"I'm made no threats here," James said blandly. "I simply remarked that it would be a shame if someone were to make a scene at Sparrow's hanging and allow him to escape. Especially with the Black Pearl anchored so close."

Turner's eyes widened. So, it seemed that he had not yet heard of the Pearl's arrival just off the Jamaican coastline. James let the information settle for a moment. He could almost see the possibilities working themselves out behind Will Turner's eyes.

Believing that the necessary seed had been planted, Norrington headed for the door.

"Why are you telling me this?" Turner asked just as James put his hand on the latch.

James winced. He had hoped he would not have to answer that question so directly, but as it seemed young Turner had no understanding of subtlety whatsoever, James would have to try a different tack.

"I told you because I'm hoping you can do what I cannot," James said.

Turner stared at him with a furrowed brow for a long moment.

"You're… trying to help me?"

Though it still went against his better judgment, his duties as an officer of the law, and every shred of common sense he possessed, James nodded.

"I am."

Turner glared at him incredulously. James couldn't blame him. He had, after all, been the one forced to give the order to have Sparrow arrested after the pirate's return to the Dauntless from the Isla de Muerta.

"You'll have to excuse me if I don't quite believe you, Commodore," Turner said. "Why help me? Why help Jack?"

"If Jack Sparrow hangs tomorrow, the letter of the law will be fulfilled," James explained. He bowed his head, and his face was veiled in shadow. "And yet, it seems to me that if Jack Sparrow hangs tomorrow, the spirit of the law will somehow be tarnished." James squared his shoulders and looked Turner in the eye. "Therefore, if someone who is not… bound by necessity, as I am, were to aid in Sparrow's escape, I would try to hinder him as little as possible."

Will Turner still looked as if a stiff breeze would blow him over, but he nodded in agreement.

"I understand," he said.

Again, James turned to leave. "One more thing, Mr. Turner," he said as he put his hand on the door. "Do try not to hurt too many of my men. They're only doing what they're told."

"I'll keep that in mind," Turner assured him.

Norrintgon ducked under the low door and stepped out into the street.

"Well then, I bid you farewell until tomorrow, and wish you the very best of luck," James said. He winked at Turner, then left the speechless young man behind him and headed home, his conscience lighter than it had been in a long while.