Chapter 11: A Dead Man's Tale
Morgan stalked the length of her ship. She was extremely agitated and her crew knew it. They avoided her, watching silently. She gripped the rail and looked into the water.
"Damn," she whispered. She spun and walked back to her cabin. She flopped on the bed then jumped back up immediately.
"Just how in the hell am I supposed to gather clues?" She stormed back out of her cabin and paced the deck again.
"Cap'n, there something wrong?"
"What? Oh, Twiggy, not really…"
Twig arched an eyebrow at her.
"Oh alright! Yes! I have a problem, a very large problem and I hate it!"
"We'll listen, Cap'n."
She turned to the pirate who spoke. He had shoulder length brown hair and a red bandana around his head.
"Which one are you?"
"Gunnar, Cap'n."
"You really want to listen?"
"Aye!" The crew called out to her.
"Alright then…"
She leaned against the wall.
"Have any of you heard of a pirate who goes by the name of 'Dawg'?"
"Dawg?"
The crew looked at each other.
"Ne'er heard of 'em." Gunnar said. "Why?"
"Because he took something from me, and I'll be damned if he gets to keep it."
"Something very important to ya?"
"Extremely important, Twig."
Morgan looked up at the crow's nest. "He gave me a month to gather clues, and I have no idea where to start."
"Why don't you go to Tortuga? I'm sure someone there has heard of this Dawg you speak of."
Morgan nodded. She glanced back. In the distance, she could see the Black Pearl. She turned back to her crew.
"I want to pull farther away from Commodore Sparrow, he shan't know about this…trip."
The crew bustled around, making the arrangements. They turned slightly and began to head for Tortuga. She sighed and looked at the dirty city.
"I'm really growing sick of that place."
Morgan walked down the streets of Tortuga, ignoring the shouts of men, the cat calls of women, and the all around ruckus of the place. She came to a busy tavern and shrugged. "Good of place as any to start, then."
She walked in. Women were crowded with the men, clearly taking part in pleasures Morgan had no wish of taking part in. She approached the bar.
"Now, what's a pretty one like you doing in a place like this?" The bartender asked her.
"I'm looking for information."
"Well, that's not free now is it?" He smiled toothlessly at her. "I mean, ye could be an agent from the Royal Navy."
She arched an eyebrow. "Is that what you think?"
"I keep my thoughts to myself."
"They must not be that numerous then."
The bartender laughed. "Oh, I like you!"
"Good," she drew her cutlass and held it at her side. "So, information."
"What are ye looking for?"
"Anything about a pirate called…"
"Called what?"
"What is your price, you said yourself information isn't free."
"Aye, I did. Well, I have been…particularly lonely lately…"
He put his hand on her shoulder, twisting his fingers in her hair. Her cutlass came up and she pinned it against his fingers.
"You don't let go, you'll be havin' some major problems," she hissed. He dropped his hand, glaring at her.
"I won't pay your price, but I'll tell you mine. You guide me to someone who might know this Dawg, or you'll die. Simple as that."
He glared at her. "There, that man in the corner, the one with the eye patch. He was captain of a well known ship, but a mutiny recently took place, and they left him in the water. He swam here. He may know this Dawg you speak of."
Morgan stood. "Thank ye very much." She sheathed the cutlass and walked to the man in the corner. He looked up at her.
"I don't want entertained, girl." His voice was harsh.
"I don't plan on providing you entertainment. I want information."
He glanced at her. "Who are you?"
"Captain Morgan Sparrow of the Nebuchadnezzar."
"Sparrow?"
It was then she realized she had purposely left off her surname.
"Aye, Sparrow."
"You Jack's daughter?"
"Not even close. Just liked the name."
"Ah, well, Ms. Sparrow, buy me some rum, and I'll see what I can do for ye."
Morgan placed the rum in front of him.
"Who are you?"
"My name is Andrew, I was captain of the Morning Star, but my so called crew turned her over to the RN. Some guy named Jake."
Morgan choked on her rum. "Norrington?"
"Aye, that be the one."
"He's a bastard."
"Aye, that he is." Andrew took a sip of his rum and looked at her.
"You know what they call me, Sparrow?"
"No?" She was confused.
"A Dead Man. I lost me ship, so I must be dead. So, what is the information you look for? What can a dead man tell you?"
"Have you ever heard of a pirate who calls himself 'Dawg'?"
"Dawg? Aye, I've heard of him. Nasty creature he is. Originally sailed the East Indies, but came here about three years ago. They describe him as the nastiest captain since Barbossa. They say he got himself a pardon from the king, became a 'privateer for the King,' because he thought it sounded classier than 'pirate.'" Andrew took a drink.
"Now, Dawg is all about class. He only sails the nicest ship and only takes the biggest booty. He'll only sleep with the prettiest girls, and cuts the tongues out of all his crew members so they can't talk behind his back."
"Sounds like a nice guy," Morgan said dryly. Andrew laughed.
"If he's after you, my advice is never go unarmed. He may be into class, but he'll work with whoever, and whatever, to get exactly what he wants. Be warned."
Morgan nodded. "You are no dead man, Andrew. Do ye want to come aboard my ship? We can hunt the Morning Star down and you can return to it, with a new crew."
Andrew looked at her and sighed. "Don't know what good it'll do, girl. Me life is over as a pirate. I'm too old."
"Never to old, Andrew." She stood. "I'll look for your ship. If I find it, I'll take it."
"Don't make promises you can't keep."
"Oh, but I have some issues to straighten out with Jake Norrington, so I can keep my promise. You'll have you ship back, Andrew. I swear on pain of death." She shoved some gold into his hands.
"See ye around, Andrew. Fair winds and calm seas."
"Same to you, Captain, same to you."