Disclaimer: The characters and concepts in this story pertaining to The Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl are the property of the Walt Disney Corporation. This is an amateur writing effort meant for entertainment purposes only.
Chapter Twenty-Two: Greater Things at Work
Morgan shot Will a disapproving glare as he was thrust into the seat next to her. He shied away from her murderous glances, turning his sights on Bateman. The serpentine captain was giving him looks of sugar-coated sadism, making Will even more nervous. Everyone was out to get him, and in his current state of self-loathing, he couldn't blame them. He did just bring Jack into the presence of the man who was out to kill him.
"Will Turner, this is Henry Gibbons, my surgeon," Bateman gestured towards the partly Asian man on the opposite side of the table. "And it looks like you've already met Captain Andrew Morgan."
"He's sailing with me," she spat, turning a foul gaze on Bateman. William could feel the storm clouds of her mind billowing next to him. Hell hath no fury, he thought with widened eyes. God help me.
"Is he now?" Bateman took his seat again, next to his surgeon. Gibbons' expression was unreadable. His catlike features were placid, even as he stared into the obviously familiar face of Bootstrap's son. "He wouldn't know where Jack Sparrow is, would he?"
"Not unless the captain has been wallowing in the decadence of Port Royal recently," Morgan answered quickly, leaving no room for Will to interject. Much as she may have been angry, she wasn't about to offer Will up on a silver platter.
"Funny you should mention Port Royal," Bateman replied, even though he didn't find her statement funny at all. Just coincidental. "The way Rags tells it, the Wayfarer was seen sailing out in the company of the Black Pearl."
Morgan stared at him incredulously. "Rags also claims that the world is flat and was created by a giant sea turtle. He'll say anything for a shilling."
"Or to keep his head on," Gibbons remarked casually, fingering the hilt of his sword as he did so. His amber coloured irises remained fixed on Will.
"But you must have been in Port Royal," the sourge of the Caribbean said. "I mean, you collected Mister Turner."
He was backing Morgan into a corner, and both she and William could feel it. Yet Morgan kept her cool, barely hesitating or missing a beat before replying. "I was in Port Royal actually a day ago, arriving just as the Trailblazer engaged the Black Pearl. Rags' misconception was probably because I was pursuing the Pearl, not leaving in her company."
Bateman's eyes glimmered like shards of broken glass. "I'm offering ten thousand shillings for the capture of Jack Sparrow."
"Why?" Will asked, a little to quickly. "What do you want Jack for?"
Morgan's eyes were back on him, even more murderous than before. He saw her mouth move in his periphery, hissing the words, "Shut up."
"Jack Sparrow owes me an unpaid debt," Bateman answered. He was attempting to sound calm, but was failing miserably. "According to the code, if a pirate of the Brethren steals from another the punishment is death."
"The Brethren?"
"The Brethren of the Coast," Morgan said quietly. "A brotherhood of pirates who swore to never steal amongst themselves. I wasn't aware that Jack was a member?"
"Bootstrap was. And so was his crew. I gave Jack the money under the oath of the Brethren with a set time alotted for repayment. By ignoring the deadline, he committed the very crime he swore to never commit: robbing from a fellow member of the Brethren."
A silence descended upon them. The storm clouds Morgan had been brewing disappated, and she sat, mute and stunned at Bateman's words. Of course, Jack would have told her everything except that. He'd baited her, and she'd taken it - hook, line, and sinker.
"Jack Sparrow is an insult to the Brethren and a growing thorn in my side," Bateman said with narrowed eyes. "You tell me if you see him."
Morgan had looked away, but found herself nodding anyways.
Bateman rose from the table, "There's a good lad." Gibbons rose with him, still gripping the hilt of his sword. Bateman threw several coins onto the tabletop.
"Good to meet you, Turner. Andrew, always a pleasure."
And with that, they left the tavern.
Morgan followed suit, thoroughly defeated. She didn't seem to even have the resolve to lecture William about the orders she had given him. They simply got up and started to walk away.
And that's when she saw Ana Maria at the bar, with a very ugly woman at her side.
"Morgan," Will said, trying to reason with her. It didn't seem to work. She had already recognized the concubine and was advancing like a feral predator.
Without saying a word, she struck Jack hard across the face. Then, in true female fashion, turned on a heel and stormed out of the tavern.
"I don't think I deserved that," he said, grabbing another bottle of rum non-chalantly.
"Can we go now?" William asked.
"Aye," Ana Maria agreed. She grabbed Jack by the arm and followed Morgan out into the night.
None of them much to say as they walked back to the Wayfarer, partly because Bateman was still in earshot, and partly because Morgan was still fuming. Any attempt to explain themselves would have resulted in a stern lecture, followed undoubtedly by revealing Jack's true identity to the world. They all just thought it best to brood for a while, or in Jack's case, grumble irritably over being dragged away from his precious rum again.
"Captain," Ridley said, emerging from one of the alleys with a few of the Wayfarer's crew in toe. "I've been looking all over for you. A piece of live cargo is missing from the hold."
"I'm aware, Mr. Ridley, thank you," she snapped curtly, throwing a glance over her shoulder at Jack Sparrow. Ridley's eyes narrowed in confusion, and then at last recognized the man beneath the veil. Giving Jack the strangest of looks, he went back to speaking with his Captain.
"I take it Bateman is unaware of our additional passengers?" he whispered to Morgan. She nodded in response, too infuriated to speak even in casual conversation. "Shall I lock him in the hold, Captain?"
"Oh, give it up, Ridley," she spat, quickening her pace to free herself from the immediate situation. Ridley didn't even try to keep up. He stopped in the street, watching as she jogged towards her ship, his lips pursing into a thin line.
"Looks like I'm not the only one not getting any tonight," Jack said.
Ridley wasn't in the mood for sarcasm. He advanced on Jack.
"OY!" Ana shouted, pulling her pistol from its holster.
The Wayfarer crewmembers followed suit.
"That's enough!" Will said loudly, ripping Ridley's sword from its sheath. He pressed the cold tip of the blade against Ridley's throat.
Jack was beaming at Will's brash move, under the impression, of course, that Will was on his side the whole time. However, the blacksmith quickly turner and pressed the blade against Jack's throat. "You too! We're not going to get anywhere by bickering."
"The boy's right," Ana said in agreement. "Let's move."
It was nearly midnight when a shadow moved silently through the cabins of the Wayfarer, slinking past the Captain's quarters and the galley only to descend further into darkness, using only a dimly lit lantern as a guide. The figure held it low around his kneecaps so a casual glance would not give away his identity, allowing the golden light to cascade over his features in a frightening, ethereal manner. He appeared like an apparition, wandering through the corridors of the Wayfarer's Redemption at a time like this.
Closing the door to the hold behind him, he turned to face a multitude of humanoid silhouettes hidden amongst the barrels of supplies. The man lifted the lantern to his face and smiled softly as he stared into the other, impressed with how many people had shown up.
"You'd better make this quick, Ridley, before the Captain notices we're gone," James Harding grumbled from the head of the pack. His large, muscular arms were crossed over his chest in a most unamused fashion.
"You shouldn't worry, Harding. What I have to say isn't going to take very long," Ridley said, lowering the lantern again, plunging the hold into darkness. He closed the door completely behind him and took several steps forward. "I think everyone knows why I called this gathering."
"If you're preaching mutiny I'll have no part of it," Walter Crouch spat coldly.
"I'm not preaching mutiny," Ridley replied, shaking his head.
"Then what are you preaching?"
Another lantern had appeared in the room behind Ridley. The crew's faces went white as sheets, as if they were looking at the face of Bootstrap's ghost. The voice, however, revealed the newcomer's identity immediately, and even before Ridley turner, he knew who he would find there.
It was Morgan.
"Captain," he said, lowering his head to show reverance. The gesture was like a slap across Morgan's face.
"Get back to your quarters," Morgan snapped. "Now."
The crew didn't miss a beat. They left the cargo hold swiftly and silently, each one casting nervous glances in Ridley's direction. He knew to stay behind without an order. Morgan's eyes were fixed on him, burning with anger.
When the hold was deserted, she enterred, closing the door behind her.
"I won't be undermined, Ridley."
"I don't know what you're talking about," he answered quickly.
"Do not think me stupid either. If it is mutiny you want, than say so."
"Mutiny entails a rising against the captain," he snapped. "You're nothing but a quartermaster now."
She punched him twice; once to the right and once to the left, and then kneed him in the crotch. His legs went limp and he dropped to the floor in front of her.
Cold steel was pressed against his throat for the second time that night. He looked up at the thin blade of Morgan's sword, lifting his gaze warily to the enraged eyes of his former captain.
"Give me a reason not to," she hissed. "I've seen some captains kill for less."
He didn't question the title this time. "Bateman has quite the proposition."
"I should have known..." Morgan shook her head. "This isn't about mutiny. It's about the bounty."
"It would be enough to retire."
"I'm not handing Jack over to Bateman."
"He's wanted by the Brethren, Morgan! A Brethren you're a part of, may I remind you."
"I don't care. I can't do it. I won't do it."
"Why?"
"Because I can't."
"That treasure doesn't exist..."
"THIS ISN'T ABOUT THE TREASURE!" she shouted.
"Than what is it about?"
Morgan's bottom lip quivered. She allowed the silence of the hold to eat her alive for several minutes before she sheathed her sword.
"There aregreater things at work here than the love of money," shehissed. And with that she left the room, slamming the door behind her.
She didn't stop walking till she was out on deck, inhaling the sea air deeply. Her eyes fell immediately to her right hand where a thin line of blood was oozing outward from her palm. Hissing an obscenity, she shook the blood away, running her fingernails along the scar gleaming underneath.
Author's Notes:
So sorry about the delay! I wasn't expecting to have been gone so long, but I spent the last two weeks travelling and job hunting after returning home. Also, Fanfiction was down for the past three days, and I don't have the Internet on my laptop, so I'm sorry if the editting on the next few chapters seems kind of lax. I need Microsoft Office back!
Anyways, the scars on Morgan and Jack's hands will be explained in later chapters. It's not a huge plot point...yet, anyways.
Also, the Brethren of the Coast was an actual fraternity of sorts developed between pirates. It's where the code originally comes from, including the word 'parley'. I have a feeling that Disney may be using them as a plot point in Pirates of the Caribbean 3, considering the plot is based on nothing but backstabbing, the very thing that lead to the downfall of the Brethren in 1680. I think they mention them in the movie. Hmmm...must watch DVD again!
Anyways, time for...
Reviews:
Smithy: You're very fortunate to have never had a bad Calculus experience...say for that one teacher. I've had a couple of those teachers too, that are right even when they're wrong.
And you're not that old.
BlkPearl: No worries! I won't delete this story, even if I edit it! Read up whenever you can or want to, and thanks so much for the review!
JackFan2: Oh no, Riggs and Ana definitely have history; as do Bateman and Morgan, but nothing like that. He's under the impression she's a man.
I enjoy Ana and Jack as well. They're such opposites! She's very in-your-face, while Jack is dodgy and evasive. Their dynamic was perfect for the film! Unfortunately, Zoe Saldana's name has not reappeared on the cast list for Dead Man's Chest, and from all the spoilers I've read, it doesn't sound like she's returning. Huge shame, really. I was considering throwing in something more than Jack/Ana friendship, but I'll just have to see where the story takes me.
I'm a huge hurt/comfort fan as well, although more of Will than Jack. You're suggestion has given me an idea though, one that I hope to bring in within the next few chapters.
I, too, have been reading up on the Dead Man's Chest spoilers. The storyline is definitely darker, and I agree. Yipes is right.
Thanks so, so much!
Sands-agent: There's so much to say about all of Johnny Depp's characters, Sands especially. I think he should have gotten the Academy Award nom for him instead of Sparrow. Thank you!
Lyn: Ah, Algebra. So, so happy that I no longer have to take Math.
Gah, sorry. Symantics, I suppose. That and I had the misconception that muskets were specifically wide mouthed weapons and the long range weapon typically used in the films were reminiscient of modern pistols. I'll go back and fix it. Thanks for the head's up!
Alexwacrap: Ugh, my parents did that too. Except 'lawyer' was 'doctor'. Eventually you just have to do what will make you happy. Good luck with whatever you choose! I'm sure you'll do fabulously.
And don't worry. I'm getting more than my fair share of sleep.
Once again, I'm sorry about the time it took me to post this! The rest of the story is up and coming!