Baffled, Will Turner looked from face to face.
"Yeah, so? I'd think pirates are a little easier to handle, considering you are one!" Will taunted, trailing Jack as he walked rapidly among the crew members, whispering here and there that it was pirates they were up against this time. Will glanced back at Elizabeth, who was talking intensely to a crew member before turning back to badger Sparrow.
"So what's the matter, Jack? Shouldn't I be able to know?"
Jack spun around quickly to face Will.
"Hmm," he said mockingly, "Well, you honestly have no right to. But m'boy,since you're the tiniest bit helpful in battles, I suppose I'll give you a little idea of what's going on." Jack walked easily to the mast, tugging at ropes, checking for stability.
"You see mate, the naval crews just aren't that bright when it comes to piracy. They haven't got the ropes, shall we say? But pirates, oh they know the ropes." He said, nodded his head mock solemnly and patted Will on the shoulder as he walked away.
"So...our tricks won't work , then? And we'll have to just...fight it out?" Will asked, beginning to understand the mounting tensity.
"Oh, no," Jack muttered, checking the anchors, " Our tricks will work. They just have to be more clever than last time."
He straightened himself and headed back toward the helm, signaling for John to follow. When he reached the steering wheel, he whispered a long set of directions to the first mate, Will watching the pair intently.
"Take Turner here with you. He's somewhat handy with a sword." He motioned uninterestedly at Will, not even looking at him, but instead watching Elizabeth as she hurried up the steps, pulling her skirts above her ankles.
"Jack," she said somewhat frantically, "Will we be able to hold them? We've suffered minor damage already."
"Love, you really need some of that rum. It'll calm you right down. I've got a bottle right over here if you-"
"JACK!" She cried, throwing her arms to her side in disgust. He pulled his head back, blinking.
"Okay, okay. Yes, yes, we'll be bloody dandy. Willy here is going to give us a hand. But he probably wants to lecture you first." He said simply, ignoring Will, who stepped forth in protest. Sensing conflict, the first mate stepped between the two.
"Aye, lad, you'll be coming with me. And get your sword at the ready."
"Where're we going?" Will asked, staying at John's heel if not somewhat tentatively. He began to lead him to the deck. Glancing back over his shoulder as he hastened his pace, Will called out.
"Elizabeth, remember what you said! Use the sword if you must! And stay out of the line of fire! I love you, Elizabeth Swan!"
She paused for a moment, watching him disapear below deck. Jack held the wheel tightly, barking orders at various crew members.
"Dear Will is so motherly." He said smilingly to Elizabeth.
"Bloody overprotective is what he is." She muttered, reaching beneath her many skirts and petticoats. "Where's the blasted thing..." she mumbled, digging about beneath her dress. Sparrow eyed her hungrily. He tapped the steering wheel and cleared his throat.
"Ahem, I could...help you, with that?" He offered hopefully, rubbing the back of his neck innocently. Elizabeth stared at him, mouth in a tight, firm line. She froze, jsut staring at him. At last she straightened from her formerly bent position and took a step foward. There was a long, akward pause. Jack watched Elizabeth carefully as she slowly advanced on him, pulling his neck back in a turtle-like manner to hopefully avoid her wrath. At last she stopped, jsut inches from his face.
"We are searching for my sword which is in one of these many cursed layers, and nothing else. You are to be quick and search only within my petticoats. You are well aware of my skills with a rifle, Jack Sparrow." She said sternly, staring him down. She turned to the side quickly to allow him to help her. Jack clasped his hands and looked skyward in silent thanks to the heavens.
Elizabeth reached down and felt about her petticoats, attempting to secure the hidden sword sheath. Jack did the same, going slowly as to savor the moment where Elizabeth literally allowed him to feel her up.
"Jack..." She sneered warningly.
"Sorry, sorry," he muttered, not sorry at all. He reached up beneath her last petticoat and felt the familiar bulk of a sword (or perhaps she's a transvestite! hahaha. okay..sorry.).
"Oy. Here it is, dove." He said sadly, carefully taking it from her waist. He got up sulkily, clearly not having wanted it to end so soon.
"Of course. I put it on first." She mumbled to herself. "Thank you Jack." She said, a little coolly. He nodded and went back to the wheel, and shouting orders to all his men.
The unknown pirate ship was adavancing speedily, within moments they would be within firing range. Elizabeth leaned over the edge, watching the ship with fear flooding her for the first time since...well, yesterday, when they had fought off a crew of undead pirates. She peered into the depths below her, but saw not just the crystal waters, but a fleet of small life boats manned by familiar crew members. In their midst sat Will Turner, conversing eargerly with a fellow crew member, most likely discussing battle tactics. Like a stone, Elizabeth felt her heart drop. The boats were headed just slightly to the left of the overpowering ship, which grew closer and closer by the second.
"What on earth were you thinking! They'll be crushed!" Elizbeth screamed at Jack, throwing her arms up in despair and anger. He completely ignored her, instead watching the remaining crew gathering now at the starboard side, rifles and moveable cannons at the ready. Gravely, he grasped the wheel tighter with each meter the opposition gained.
"CAPTAIN JACK SPARROW, YOU ARE COMPLETELY OUTSIDE YOUR MI-" A deafening blast shook the massive hull of the Pearl. The enemy had open fired the instant they had come into a decent range. Thrown completely off-balance, Elizabeth tumbled backwards against the massive mast, her head hitting first with an audible smash of bone on wood.
Already, the crew was fighting back with all they had, they didn't notice the young woman laying unconcious, sprawled across the deck.
"Are we ready mates?" William called to the men accompanying him, "We will be outnumbered for certain, but we shall fight to the death. Draw your swords, prepare the ropes." He ordered, drawing his own sword from its protective sheathing.
"Go!" He cried nervously, yet firmly to the crew members holding grappling hooks. All at once, they were heaved onto the port side of the ship, which lay abandoned as the pirates stuggled to hold starboard. Four at a time, the Black Pearl's crew ascended the ropes and boarded the ship. As the first quad, one of which was Will, reached the deck, a small grouping of pirates raced forth to meet them, surprised by but not unprepared for their sneak arrival. Desperately protecting the still-climbing crew, the four spread out to cover the five grappling hooks, and became locked in swordplay with two enemies at the least. At the center Will guarded two ropes fiercely, arching his sword in graceful swings and deceving the increasing number of pirates with intracate footwork. Slowly, men worked their way up behind him, aiding him in pushing back the ten pirates that had had run to meet the opposition. His concentration bent on a certain member of the crew, a rugged, scarred, and muscular man he assumed to be first mate, Will failed to hear the cries of his comrades to the left. Five had successfully reached the top, only to be rudely greeted by at least twenty men. Alerted at last by a shout of pain, William leaped onto the low wall at the edge of the ship, and flipped over the left shoulder of his oppent to give him just a second to see where the cry was coming from. In that second, he was provided with enough time to watch his last man on the far left fall dead to the deck, and the rope severed, bringing five crew members crashing into the blue abyss, screaming for help. Angered and frightened by the huge loss, Will locked into battle once again with the first mate. But his determination, sparked by the disaster, had grown too much for the older man to follow. In a witty slide to the enemy's right, Will thrust his hand-crafted blade into the left side of his opponents abdomen, puncturing his lungs and causing him to fall to his knees, gasping for a last breath. Wasting no time on pity, Will wheeled around just in time to catch yet another with his sword raised, and thrust the bloodied blade directly into his lower stomach. All the men waiting below Will's ropes had reached deck, the boats were empty except for a few lone crew members who had been cut off or remained behind to aid the escape. Slyly, Turned crouched and somersaulted bewteen two pirates, who raced to the ropes to cut off the supposedly ascending crew. The center of the deck was becoming crowded with sword fights, and Will rushed through couplings of friends and enemies, his purpose to reach starboard side, where cannons were slowly destroying his captain's ship, and bullets threatened the lives of his ship's crew, and most importantly that of his fiance.
William had nearly reached his goal when a giant of a man stepped in front of him, brandishing a sword and completely blocking passage. Will swung harshly towards the man's legs, hoping in incapacitate him, but the massive pirate easily parried his shot. This would not be a game of wit, Will thought to himself, but a true test of skills. The two became locked in combat, meshing with the clanging of blades all around them.
Jack Sparrow watched his men and ship intently, barking orders and raising his rifle occaisonally to fire from the helm. At last, however, he saw that he was needed as his crew began to drop from where they had been spread across deck, firing rifles and cannons alike. Sparrow seeked refuge at the center mast, where he could shoot but less easily be hit. He raced quickly through bullets, which whizzed about like raindrops, and stood flat against the mast. He stood idly for a moment, examining where his skilled riflery was most needed before swiftly sliding to the left of the pole. Preparing his weapon, the captain took a step forward, only to stagger over a body. He looked down, barely concerned about the crew member, to find Elizabeth Swan laying limply, her sword fallen from her hand.
"Elizabeth!" He whispered worriedly, not unlike Will earlier that day. Jack tucked his pistol into its holster on his hip and his sword into his sheath , and scooped Elizabeth into his arms, her head falling back and feet dangling loosely over his arms. "Bloody nuisance, women." He grunted as he ran, slowly, under her weight to his quarters, where he threw open the heavy wooden door and lay her gently on the straw tick matress. "If she's dead, William will have a helluva fit." He muttered to himself in annoyance as he leaned his cheek close to Elizabeth's mouth, trying to see if she was breathing. He felt hot wind momentarily, of normal strength of an average breath. A poor caretaker, especially of women, Jack lightly slapped her cheek repetitively.
"Aye dove, wake up, wake up. Turner will kill me if he finds out about this. " Jack said, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet as he grew antsy. Elizabeth stirred slightly, but did not wake. For a moment, Jack stood idly staring at her, baffled as how to revive her, when he saw a thick pool of blood collecting behind her head.
"Oh, bugger!" He snorted, irritated that this girl was a growing nuisance by the second. He paced around his quarters in a tight circle, looking for something, anything to bind her wound, and muttering to himself all the while. His search was fruitless and once again he stood, fingering his beard, thinking of what he could use. At last an idea dawned on him.
"If you weren't so ruddy beautiful lass, I wouldn't be doing this for you." He retorted to the unhearing Elizabeth as he tugged off his black coat. He threw it to the side uncaringly, and pulled his shirt over his head. He began ripping it into a long, thin strip. "Ah, well, it smells a bit," he lied to her (although she still coulndn't hear) holding his own nose at the awful stench of the shirt he had been wearing for weeks on end. He at last had a lengthy bandage. Jack took a seat beside Elizabeth's motionless form and lifted her head into his lap, ignoring the blood that began to seep through the leg of his pants, and began to bind the top of her skull with the makeshift bandage, eagerly watching her for signs of waking while he did so. After a quick moment, Elizabeth's head was bound, and Jack stood up, only to be knocked over by the force of several cannons and land harshly on his backside.
"The things I do for you, dove." He muttered, standing and rubbing himself sorely. He slid Elizabeth to the center of his bed, as not to allow her to fall during the cannon fire and injure herself further, and exited quickly with a look of lust (or perhaps it was concern) back at the girl. Nearly forgetting the battle he had left temporarily, Captain Jack looked around, startled as he walked back into the line of fire. Hastily, he fumbled with his holster and sword sheath, pulling out each one and brandishing them fiercely as he now ran directly to the edge of starboard side where his crew was fighting viciously.
"Captain! I think we've nearly gotten them! Will Turner's taken out a load of them with his sword!" A dwarfed man shouted happily. Sparrow surveyed the enemy ship cautiously, not sure to trust a man who could hardly see over the edge of the ship. However the scene was as he described, a good deal of the crew lay injured on the decks, and there was no more gunfare, nor cannons being fired. Turner, however was nowhere to be seen.
On the nameless enemy ship, Will's sword roared in battle with the looming giant of a man. He was agile with a sword, but his footwork clumsy, he was a lumbering fellow due to his great size. Slowly but surely, Will moved the man backwards against the low wall at the edge of stoarboard side, where a few of his crew members lay dead, slumped against the wall. Will contiuned forward, pushing the man farther and farther, him unaware that he was being outplayed, as his back was turned to Will's destination. At last, the man's back was up against a low wall. Startled for the first time, the defeated giant turned quickly backwards to see the death he was about to plunge to, and Will took the opportunity to thrust his sword into the man's chest. The enemy did not scream nor cry, but simply fell backwards, his black eyes widening with amazement as he plunged to the depths of the ocean. The last thing he saw in his mortal life was the face of his murderer, watching him fall to his death.
Free at last from the difficult pairing, Will spun quickly around to find that all the pirates were locked in combat, two to a pair, except for a few lone stragglers who darted about, thrusting their swords into the backs of Will's crew as they concentrated desperately on their single target. He watched several of his friends fall face first to the deck, having been the victims of the sneak attacks.
Well, I can play like that as well, Will said firmly. He no longer doubted his skills with a sword. To doubt was to die. He moved swiftly through the groupings, pausing only to dig a sword into an enemy's back, to watch the eyes of his friend grow wide as he watched their partner mysteriously fall. Will was too quick to be seen after his attacks. He eliminated many of the pairs, freeing at least ten of his companions. They grouped quickly at the center of the deck, given a few seconds in which only the few pairs still locked in swordplay were in combat, before the reserved pirates rushed in from below deack and down from the riggings and helm.
"We take down as many on port side as we can! Do not stop, do not breathe!" He ordered to them, knowing their moment was running out. He held his sword out in front of him and ran forward, charging the fiends amed with rifles and cannons. The crew followed, egos and bravery boosted by Will's short but effective order. They carved into the backs of 11 distracted gun-bearing pirates, which drastically decreased the number with which the enemy could fight. Out of the corner of his eye, Will spotted a few scraggly opposing crew members rushing towards the band of Black Pearl men.
"FIVE OF YOU! TAKE ON THOSE PIRATES FROM THE HELM!" He cried, gasping for breath and gesturing quickly towards the intended area with his sword. Unafraid, five of the men dashed towards the oncoming enemy. Will turned back to those holding the rifles, only a few of which were aware of the surprise attackers. Those who posed the most threat, those who had seen the swift sword bearers, Will took out first, as they grabbed desperately for their swords. One had the time to acess it and was locked in short combat with Will, only to be nearly decapitated due to his poor swordsmanship. At last, it seemed the Black Pearl would be saved. All over the enemy pirates were dead, only a handful remained firing from the port side. All those who had been in one-on-one sword fights had either been beaten or defeated a member of the Black Pearl, only to be cut down by a waiting member at their backs.
"RETREAT! OFF THE SHIP! WE'VE TAKEN THEM!" Will cried as he took out two more men holding rifles. He getured wildy towards starboard side, where the life boats waited below. Most of the men scrambled for the safety of the Caribbean waters, but a few held back, some still in sword fights, others, like Will, not intending to leave behind a living soul. Coming down to the last few cannons, Will prepared to strike one in the back of the neck with his sword, he arched his arm back and brought down the swing. However, in the milisecond before it made contact with the man's spinal column, a rifle was fired far to Will's right, wedging itself into his right kneecap.
"AARGHH!" He shouted in pain, his back arching as he fell to the deck, trying desperately to back away, dragging his crippled leg with him. He scooted a few feet from the line of cannons, only to have a shadow fall completely over him. He backed against the mass, not aware that it was blocking his slow escape route.
"Aye. And you must be William Turner. Spittin' image of ol' Bootstrap, yeh are, boy." He chuckled, kicking Will below his ribcage with no mercy.
"GET OFF! GET OFF!" He screamed to the last of the crew, hardly even able to breath. The man above him, who Will had no intention of looking at to give him the satisfaction of eye contact, laughed cruelly. He whistled, grabbing the attention of the few lone rifle and cannon operators. He gestured smoothly, almostly elegantly to the fleeing crew of the Black Pearl. The cannon workers smiled slyly.
Will toppled onto his side as the ship shook with the force of 5 canons. He listening to the seemingly defeaning crack as the balls hit their targets and blew through them, far over the edge of the ship and below. Will, struggling to right himself, was rewarded with a crippling blow to his abdomen with the man's boot. He gasped for air, perhaps for mercy, but said nothing.
"Aye, you!" The laughing man looming over to him called out to a petite crew member waiting at the helm, "Bring me some rope. Mr. Turner here will be made wonderfully at home here." He threw back his shaggy head and laughed. Will took the opportunity to look at the man. Standing above him was the most scarred and fearsome pirate Will had ever seen. The wrinkles on the middle-aged face probably counted for the numerous pirates who dared oppose him and suffered a terrible death. The man looked down to see Will watching him with terrified, widened dark brown eyes and laughed so hard he fell kneeling to the deck, where he was on the same level as William.
"Let me introduce myself, Turner. I am Captain Charlemage. You m'boy, may call me Black Beard." To conclude his otherwise civil introduction, Charlemage welcomed Will aboard with a boot in the face.
Crying out in pain, much to the amusement of the captain and his crew, Will toppled onto the deck and into unconcious blackness.