Author's Note: And so, Update Fest begins! My multi-fandom readers will be delighted to hear that all my fics are being updated this weekend! I apologize again for keeping all of you waiting. I'm trying my best not to start any new material until I finish these pending stories, though I can't make any promises where the muse is concerned. My heartfelt thanks for all the reviews. They mean the world to me.
Chapter Six: A Pirate's Life For Me
The Black Pearl, the next morning…
"All aboard, all aboard, step lively now!" Jack gestured wildly at his crewmembers to pick up the pace as they staggered and dragged themselves on deck. They'd been quite put out with him for being forced out of Tortuga after only one night, but not a one had taken Jack up on his offer to find a different ship. Once they were all gathered, shielding their eyes and slumping against the rigging after a night of revelry, he announced, "Allow me to begin by saying how very, very sorry I am to take you from your hard-earned rest!"
He got a loud grumble in response, and a snarl of "This better be damn good," from Anamaria.
"Oh, don't worry, love, it's good all right. What if I was to tell you lot that I'd got wind of the finest prize since Isla de la Muerta? And that if we want to be the first to have a crack at it, we'd best be setting sail smartly?"
The mutterings were less hostile now. Anamaria pursed her lips before asking, "What sort of prize?"
"Wellllll, what sort of prize do we pirate sorts usually go after, eh?" he grinned winningly at her. She wasn't pacified, of course. Never ceased to amaze him how she could be so utterly immune to his charms. "Don't be getting churlish now, your Captain Jack's a man of his word. I'm only asking you to be a little understanding if I keep the specifics to meself this time. Got meself in a bit o' trouble last time I gave out too many details. Once bit, twice shy and all that. BUT…" with a dramatic wave at Gibbs, Jack saved the most amusing part for last. "I'm also pleased to announce we've got ourselves a new addition to the crew!"
The crew exchanged baffled glances. They'd not brought on a new sailor since rescuing Jack from Port Royal two years before. Jack could hardly wait to see the looks on their faces. Gibbs rapped on the door of the captain's cabin, and Jack watched with delight as jaws slowly dropped among his men (and woman.) "I present to you, the newest lady pirate on the Caribbean, Miss Elizabeth Swann!" he announced, and reached behind him to haul Elizabeth forward by the arm.
There was a very long silence, broken (as usual) by Anamaria. "Where…the…hell did you get her?"
"Oh, come on, love, use those brains I know you ought to have," he told her sweetly. "We've docked nowhere but here in weeks."
"What in 'ell was she doin' in Tortuga?" demanded one of the others.
"Long story," said Jack dismissively. "Anyway, lads, make our newest recruit welcome! She's coming with us on this little trip. Now to work, all of you, and get us under way!" He waved them off, and started toward the wheel.
Elizabeth had been surprisingly quiet—almost meek, actually—as she stood beside him in front of the crew, and when he walked away, she followed him. "You lied to them," she said in a low voice. "Why?"
Jack took the wheel, eyeing the ship-clogged mouth of the harbor with a grimace. "Because, lass, I don't intend to find meself on the wrong end of another mutiny. Besides, 'twasn't really a lie." He heaved a theatrical sigh. "Love is, after all, one of those great treasures that men seek all their lives, as every poet knows." He batted his eyes at her. "Savvy?" She gave him that usual look of combined admiration and disgust, and shook her head.
Anamaria stalked up to them. "If you're to be comin' with us, you're to be useful. Even Jack's not going to persuade us to carry a deadweight around."
Jack noticed the rest of the crew pausing in their work and watching with interest. He elected to keep himself out of it, and instead cast speculative looks from Anamaria to Elizabeth and back again, smiling serenely to let them know that they were to handle it. Elizabeth was silent for a moment, then said, "I assume you have something in mind?"
Anamaria looked the other woman up and down scornfully. "Depends on what kind of work ye be capable of!"
Elizabeth's eyes hardened to a dark look Jack had never seen before. Aye, Tortuga had toughened her, that was certain. Without another word, the governor of Jamaica's daughter stepped back, casting narrowed eyes from Anamaria to the rest of the crew, then held out her arms and deliberately rolled up her sleeves. Jack decided this was the opportune moment. "Well, that's settled, then. Anamaria, you'll give Elizabeth her duties from now on. Doubt you'll disappoint us, eh, love?" Elizabeth shot him a scornful look, and started to follow Anamaria back to the steps. "Oh, and Anamaria, me love? You know…" he toyed with the wheel grips, grinning, "since Elizabeth's here, you're not…exactly the only woman aboard anymore…"
Anamaria furiously folded her arms. "No."
"Ohhh, but Anamaria--"
"No!"
Jack raised both hands at her. "Sorry, love. Captain's orders. You'll share your cabin with Elizabeth, and be nice about it! And she'll repay your hospitality with good, hard work, won'tcha, love?"
"Absolutely," said Elizabeth, folding her own arms and glaring at Anamaria.
"Right-o, then! Off you both go!" Jack sighed as the wind filled the sails over his head, watching Anamaria put Elizabeth to coiling and stowing the long lines. "Makes the ship feel so homey with another lady around."
"Aye, and it's twice the bad luck," growled Gibbs from behind him.
***
Aboard the Lady Laurel…
"Loose the topsails, you scabberous sea-dogs!" the first mate bellowed. "Full sail! You there, Turner! What ails you?"
Will swallowed another wave of nausea and pulled back from where he'd been leaning over the edge of the bulkhead. He couldn't bring himself to look at the others. "You take a hit?" asked Krighton.
"Yes," Will lied. "It's not bad."
"Getcherself below then. We gotta beat a path out of 'ere before the whole bloody navy's out after us. Lady Laurel can't take much in a fight." Will didn't answer and stumbled below to collapse into his berth.
The White Sword hung at his waist, its weight feeling great enough to bring the whole ship down. Dear God, what have I done? He had led brigands into Port Royal in the dead of night and seen them running into the market districts to plague the merchants and tradesmen he had done business with. He had broken into Elizabeth's house! He had pointed a gun at the face of her father! Will leaned over the side of the berth again, his stomach lurching at the memory of the terror on the faces of Governor Swann and Elizabeth's maid. The whole attack had been a blur when they'd actually been there, his mind racing to get the job done as quickly as possible. But now it played over and over before his mind's eye, torturing him.
I'm a pirate.
The thought was not a pleasant one. Will knew Jack Sparrow was both a pirate and a good man, and Captain Willem was as well, so there could be no doubt that it was possible to engage in piracy without losing one's soul…was there?
What have I done? Elizabeth… his stomach warned him of its rebellion in time to leap from the berth and stagger to the porthole. Resting his head against the cool, damp bulkhead, Will fingered the weapon at his side, recalling the wanton brutality he'd inflicted on her house, her father, and her suitor. The last part he wanted very much to forget. The only blessing this night was that the maid had had the good sense to lock Elizabeth's bedroom door. Will didn't know what he would have done if he'd found himself face-to-face with her. Somehow he didn't think she would have been fooled for an instant by his mask.
Will walked slowly back to the berth once his stomach was completely empty and sank back into it. He still hadn't taken off the white sword, but couldn't seem to bring himself to do it. He'd been persuaded by Captain Willem's vague allusion to the weapon's danger, but he couldn't deny that he'd been an all-too-willing participant for other reasons as well, when he fingered its smooth perfection.
"And you're completely obsessed with treasure."
"I am not obsessed with treasure!"
"Not all treasure is silver and gold, mate."
The ship was moving very fast now, probably already out of Kingston Harbor. Will's eyelids grew heavy, drawing toward an oblivion he hoped would be free of loneliness and guilt.
Elizabeth, forgive me.
***
The Cardinal, on the Atlantic Ocean…
"Ship to starboard!" Commodore Norrington heard the watchman cry.
Instinctively, he followed Captain Haile to the side, peering at the white sails in the distance. "She's closing fast. Do you recognize her, Commodore?"
Norrington took the spy glass from him, eyeing the vessel only for a moment before recognizing her. "It's the Ursula, Captain. One of Port Royal's." As he watched, another flag rose to join the British flag. "Bearing a message for us, from the looks of it."
"Heave to!" ordered the captain. "Let's hope it's not bad news."
Norrington's wife came on deck as the Ursula came up alongside them. "What's happening, James?"
"I don't know," he told her. "A message from Port Royal."
The Ursula's boat glided over to their side, and Norrington watched with a growing sense of foreboding. Gillette would not have sent the fastest ship in the fleet after them without good cause. What could have happened? He could guess a few things, none of them good.
Captain Kennedy climbed aboard, saluting Norrington and Captain Haile. "Commodore, Captain."
"Welcome aboard, Captain Kennedy," said Haile. "Please come below."
"Of course, sir, and may Commodore Norrington join us? I have an urgent message from Lieutenant Gillette."
"This way, sir."
Norrington's naval discipline had long since killed such habits as pacing, but he felt an incredible urge to do so as the two captains went through the tired formalities before Kennedy could deliver Gillette's message. "Lieutenant Gillette sends his apologies for interrupting your honeymoon, sir. But there is a serious situation in Port Royal. Miss Elizabeth Swann has vanished."
Norrington felt his heart go to his throat. I feared she would do something rash. What a fool I was not to see that she and Turner were a truly well-matched pair. Aloud, he repeated calmly. "Vanished?"
"Without a trace, sir. Mr. Gillette has had the entire town searched repeatedly, but there is no sign of her. He fears she is no longer in Port Royal. Governor Swann begs your immediate assistance."
I should have taken more action. I should have stopped the Greymalkin. I should have had Turner arrested before he could leave. I should not have left with Elizabeth in such a state. Norrington swallowed, reading Governor Swann's letter. Fool. Bloody, thoughtless fool. He regrets his actions now. "Captain Haile, I thank you for a smooth voyage. I am only sorry that I will not be able to see England again. I will be disembarking at once."
"Aye-aye, sir. I will have your bags transferred to the Ursula immediately." Norrington was already on his way to the door. Haile and Kennedy hurried after him up onto the deck. "And Mrs. Norrington, sir?" asked Haile.
"My wife will remain aboard the Cardinal. I'll arrange to rejoin her as soon as possible."
"What?" The lady in question came swiftly to Norrington's side. "James, what has happened?"
"I must return to Port Royal, my dear," he said, hoping she would not press him. But Lucinda had grown rather averse to being kept in the dark after the ugly revelation of her father's activities, and no longer accepted a vague answer. Seeing her narrowed eyes, Norrington sighed and told her, "I have bad news. Elizabeth has disappeared."
Lucinda's hand flew to her mouth. Norrington saw his bags brought on deck, and said, "I promise I'll do everything in my power to find her. I am sorry our honeymoon may have been cut short."
"You think she went after Will Turner?"
Norrington raised his eyebrows at her. "Don't you?"
"Without doubt," she said. "You're to leave at once then?"
"I'm afraid so."
Lucinda nodded. "Very well. Gentlemen," she turned to the crewmen who were carrying Norrington's bags, "kindly transfer my bags to the Ursula." The men looked at her, then to Norrington. Seeing her husband's reluctant expression, she qualified it, "Only the necessary ones."
"My dear…" said Norrington.
Lucinda stared at him. "James?"
"Lucinda, perhaps it would be best if you continue on to England," he told her quietly.
The crew and other passengers busied themselves as the Norringtons drew closer together. Lucinda's expression was guarded. "Why should I not go back with you?"
James took her hand and said, "Because I expect to be in Port Royal only long enough to learn the situation and then begin searching. I will not stop until Elizabeth is found. And once that is done, she won't allow me to stop until Will Turner is found. That could take a very long time."
"And what shall I do in England?" For the first time since he had known her, James Norrington heard real contention in Lucinda's voice. "I want to stay with you."
"It will be at least another week at sea, Madame," said Captain Kennedy, coming to join them. "And I beg your pardon, but the Ursula is a military ship." At Lucinda's frown, he elaborated, "What I mean is, the accommodations are hardly suitable for a lady."
Lucinda turned toward the smaller ship. "I'll manage." She looked back at James. "I go with my husband."
Kennedy looked at Norrington, who hesitated only a moment before turning to two of the crewmen. "Gentlemen, my wife's bags, if you please."
"Yes, sir."
As he assisted Lucinda into the longboat, he warned her, "I may still be gone for some time."
"Then I'll wait for you in our house."
***
Aboard the Black Pearl, a week later…
"You're right good at this, Miss Elizabeth," said Mr. Gibbs, finding Elizabeth on her hands and knees caulking the timbers with Bolls.
Elizabeth wedged a final strip of oakum between the planks and pulled her hands clear while the dwarf added the hot pitch. "I can pull my weight," she replied curtly, and scooted over to the next spot, her back to Gibbs making it clear that she was not in a talkative mood.
Gibbs shook his head and went up to the helm. "Anamaria's a bad influence on that lass," he told Jack.
The captain raised his eyebrows and looked down at Elizabeth; she did appear a bit on the sullen side. Then Jack smiled. "Got nothing to do with Anamaria or unladylike labor, mate. Our Elizabeth's just got a bad case of the lovelorns."
"Are we takin' her back to Port Royal, then?" asked Gibbs.
"We're going there, but I doubt she'll be going ashore unless her lad's there safe and sound," said Jack. "But it's as good a place to start as any."
"You do plan on avoidin' the Royal Navy, don't you?"
"Of course," Jack sounded offended. "Not that I think our friend Norrington would open fire on us without warning, but Elizabeth says he's off on his honeymoon, so the fort's left in the hands of his lackie Gillette—and that one reminds me of Will when I first met the lad. Evil pirates, and all that. Though I must say, I'm rather put out at not having been invited to Norrington's wedding."
Gibbs' laughter was interrupted by a shout from the watchman. "Sail ho!"
Jack whipped out his spyglass, aiming at the white sails on the horizon. "And speaking of the bloody devil!"
"Navy?" Gibbs peered over Jack's shoulder as Anamaria and Cotton came running up behind them.
"Aye-aye, the Dauntless, no less. On an intercept course, from the looks of her."
"What orders, Captain?" asked Anamaria.
"Ready the guns, you dogs!" Jack snapped, returning to the wheel.
By then, Elizabeth had also joined them. "You're not going to shoot at them!"
Jack toyed with his moustache, raising his eyebrows at her. "Let us, shall we say, examine the situation, love. We're the most well-known pirate ship in the Caribbean. The flagship, if you will. Heading straight at us with full sail is none other than the flagship of the British Royal Navy, under the command of someone who is most likely not your bloody friend Norrington, who at least has had dealings with us before! Care to explain to me the wisdom of not having the guns ready?"
"I…but…"
"Patience, love. Hate to admit it, but your Dauntless is a rather well-matched opponent—I'd be just as thrilled as you to get out of this without firing a shot, but no harm in being prepared, eh?" He patted her cheek. "Run along now and lend a hand."
Gibbs thought she still looked dubious, but to his surprise and grudging respect, she obeyed Jack. "Still on an intercept, Cap'n!"
"Load the port guns!" Jack bellowed.
"Flag, Jack?"
"None. Let Britain's fine upstanding sailors announce their intentions first."
The captain and crew of the B lack Pearl watched as the flagship of the British Caribbean fleet bore down on them. "Cap'n's better off keepin' 'er at a distance if ye ask me," muttered someone.
"Pipe down there!" snapped Gibbs, shielding his eyes from the glare that half-hid the ship. The Dauntless tacked until it was no longer silhouetted against the western sun, then Gibbs spotted the white standard being raised up below the British colors. He shouted along with the others. "A white flag, sir!"
Elizabeth followed Gibbs back to the helm. "Jack, they may be looking for me. I don't want them to know I'm here."
"Say no more, missy. I won't send you packing. Once they're in range, get yourself below. Here," Jack handed her the spy glass. "Recognize anyone?"
Gibbs watched as Elizabeth aimed the glass at the ship. Her eyes widened. "It's the Commodore!" she exclaimed, turning excitedly to Jack. "He's come back!"
"Probably looking for his wayward lost love," said Jack. To the crew, he shouted, "Run up a white flag! Let's see what they want!"
"Aye-aye, Cap'n!"
Elizabeth snorted and looked again through the glass. Her face fell to a scowl. "What's he doing there," she muttered.
"Translation, lass?"
Elizabeth stepped back and slapped the glass into Jack's hand. "I think I'd best go below now, Captain Sparrow."
Jack wrinkled his nose at her. "All right then, love, since you were kind enough to address me so nicely, I'll let you off the hook. Wait in my cabin, and we'll share all the juicy details of the discussion soon as they're gone." As she scurried to the stairs, Jack shouldered Gibbs out of the way and called, "Keep your positions at the deck guns, but close the lower ports!"
"Aye-aye!"
Gibbs could see the red and blue-clad soldiers on the deck of the Dauntless, fortunately not showing any obvious signs of preparing to fire on the pirates. Rather, they stood with the same uneasy attention that the Pearl's crew below him was showing. There were more than a few furtive glances from the lower deck back up to Jack, who for his part looked perfectly relaxed at the helm. The warship glided by, bigger than the Pearl in actual mass, if slower. "Heave to! Take in sail!" Jack shouted, watching the distance of the Dauntless. "Steady as she goes."
The Black Pearl came to a stop at the same moment as the Dauntless, the helms of both ships side-by-side with just enough sea room between them to prevent boarding by force. "There's the Commodore, sure enough," said Gibbs, seeing the white-brimmed hat coming past the marines to the side. Behind him was that Lieutenant Gillette, and a very well-dressed nobleman with a fearsome scowl upon his face. "What now, Jack?"
"Ahoy there, Dauntless!" Jack bellowed.
"Captain Sparrow?" Norrington shouted back.
Jack swept off his hat with an effusive bow. "To what do the humble pirates of the Black Pearl owe the honor, Commodore? How may we be of service?"
"I have a serious matter to speak to you about!" called the Commodore. "Would you be willing to come aboard my ship? I believe you will wish to hear this news!"
Jack made a show of waggling his eyebrows at the crew, whose expressions were dubious. "Welll, I don't know about that, good Commodore! I seem to remember the hospitality of your officers and gentlemen was a bit lacking last time I was aboard the Dauntless."
"You'll have amnesty, sir. I give my word you will be allowed to return to your ship, and we will take no hostile action against the Black Pearl." Apparently, the nobleman behind Norrington took issue with that promise, and began arguing vigorously with him. Norrington waved him off sharply.
Gibbs leaned forward. "I don't like it, Jack. Could be they suspect you of bein' involved with Miss Elizabeth's disappearance."
"Aye, and in a way, I am, mate," said Jack. "But for all he's a pompous ass, Norrington probably doesn't think that."
"Who's the coxcomb?" muttered Gibbs, nodding discretely at the nobleman.
"No idea." Then Jack grinned, "But I'll wager me hat that's the one Elizabeth's all ruffled at. I got a better idea." He cupped his hands to his mouth again. "How about this, Commodore! You and a few of your men are welcome to join us here on the Black Pearl! With the, ah, amnesty, and all that. You can even bring guards, if you like!"
That got both Gillette and the nobleman protesting, but Norrington cut both of them off. He talked at length with one of his marines while the pirates watched, then finally came back to the side of the Dauntless. "I accept your offer, Captain Sparrow."
"Very good, Commodore!" Jack bowed again, and turned to the crew. "Gentlemen—and lady—we're to have guests!"
***
"Norrington's boat's almost here, Jack," Anamaria warned as Jack finished giving some last-minute instructions to Elizabeth.
"Right, then. Keep your ears open, and not a sound if you don't want them to drag your pretty tail back to Port Royal," he warned Elizabeth again. "I'd better go greet your bloody friend Norrington."
"He brought the fancy linen," said Gibbs as they headed on deck. "Less guards than I expected. Just that Gillette character and a couple marines."
"What about our lass's father? The Governor. Any sign of him?" asked Jack.
"Nope. Think they're only lookin' for her?"
"Could be, if Norrington's willing to talk first, shoot later. Ah, there they come. Commodore Norrington! Welcome aboard the Black Pearl!" Jack shouted, giving his guests an even more sweeping bow. "If you'd care to step into my cabin, we can have our little chat."
Gillette looked about to argue, but Norrington silenced him with a glare as they walked up the deck. "Thank you, Captain Sparrow."
Jack grinned to himself as he led the way. This would be fun. Once in his cabin, he looked back at them as quick as possible to see expressions on the fine, upstanding king's men's faces when they saw the spread of food he'd ordered for his table. Norrington looked quite aghast, but he rallied his forces quicker than Gillette and the strange noblemen, who still looked positively horrified. "I trust you gentlemen have no objections to breaking bread with a pirate?"
"None at all," said Norrington before the others could respond, though he sounded slightly choked.
Once they seated themselves, Jack raised his eyebrows at the stranger, who had conspicuously failed to be introduced. "I don't believe I know your civilian friend."
The well-dressed man looked utterly affronted at being spoken of by a pirate. Norrington cleared his throat. "I beg your pardon. This is Sir Reginald Hamilton, recently arrived from England."
Jack inclined his head graciously, causing Anamaria, who was pouring wine across the table, to bite her lip to hide her grin. He greatly enjoyed the discomfort on Norrington's face at having to go through the proper polite motions of actually starting to eat before getting down to business (though Norrington at least touched the food, unlike Gillette and Hamilton) but finally got bored with the game and said, "Well now, what can the crew of the Black Pearl do for His Majesty's Navy?"
Norrington sat back with an expression that clearly said at last, and told Jack, "We were hoping you might be able to shed some light on recent disturbing events in Port Royal." At Jack's affected surprise, he said, "Miss Elizabeth Swann and Mr. William Turner have disappeared."
Jack cocked his head in feigned surprise. "Disappeared? Together?"
"No. Mr. Turner was seen boarding a ship bound for Pearl Point some weeks ago. Miss Swann vanished later that night."
Jack noticed Hamilton gritting his teeth, and recalled Elizabeth's tearful explanation of the events leading to her arrival in Tortuga. "He thought I didn't love him…" Hmm. Maybe the reason Will had been under that obviously erroneous impression was currently sitting on the other side of the table? Though how a bright lad like Will would think Elizabeth was interested in a fop like that is beyond me. Obviously not her type. To Norrington, he asked, "Sure they didn't just elope?"
With a nervous glance at Hamilton, Norrington replied, "Quite sure." He looked genuinely worried, though Jack had heard from Elizabeth that Norrington had already found himself another girl to be Mrs. Commodore. "Do you have any idea where they might be?"
Jack toyed with his beard. "You say young Will's ship was bound for Pearl Point?"
"That was its, shall we say, purported destination."
"Ah," Jack waggled a finger at Norrington. "You're a step ahead of 'em already, Commodore. You know where that ship's really most likely headed, eh?"
"It is my understanding that certain vessels purportedly bound for Pearl Point are in fact bound for Tortuga, running supplies for pirates and black marketeers."
"Right you are, mate. Unfortunately, I was in Tortuga only a few weeks ago, and saw no sign of the lad, or Elizabeth. But I'll certainly keep me ears open."
"Thank you, Captain Sparrow."
Jack could see Hamilton shifting impatiently, and stood up with a rush of mischief. "Not at all, Commodore. If that's all—"
"No…sir, that is not all," said Hamilton. Jack stopped in mid bow and stared down his nose at the nobleman, who was still seated. The man scowled back at him, clearly regarding Jack and the Pearl's crew as little more than wild animals to whom he, Sir Reginald Hamilton, would never willingly give his attention. "Commodore Norrington has not yet established your alibi for the time of the raid."
Jack drew himself up in mock surprise. "A raid, you say?"
Norrington cleared his throat loudly. "Yes. One week ago, three parties of masked pirates raided Port Royal. They looted part of the town, injured officers at the fort, and attacked Governor Swann's house."
"One of them robbed me of a priceless heirloom!" Hamilton snapped, glaring from Jack to Gibbs to Anamaria, his implication clear.
Jack minced his way back to his chair and sat down. Propping his chin on his hand, with his elbow on the table, he drawled, "What…sort…of heirloom?"
"I believe it was a sword," said Norrington quietly.
"Got no shortage of swords on the Black Pearl, mate," said Jack, waving his hands around the cabin dismissively. "And you'll recall, Commodore, that our course this afternoon takes us toward Jamaica, not away from it. Wouldn't make much sense to be going back to the town we'd just plundered. And," he leaned back in his chair, "my lads don't need to be wearing masks."
"A likely story," muttered Hamilton, but Norrington was shaking his head.
"All accounts say the ship that attacked Port Royal was small. The Black Pearl is unmistakable."
"The pirate who struck me knew about the white sword."
Jack blinked. "White sword?"
Norrington narrowed his eyes. "You've heard of it?"
"Something, maybe. A sword that's white ain't exactly commonplace." Jack had ceased to be amused by the conversation. He nibbled lazily on an apple while keeping his eyes on Hamilton. "Sports a mother-of-pearl scabbard, I believe?" Hamilton was motionless, but Norrington nodded. "Decorated with pearl and silver? Filigreed handle?"
"You seem very knowledgeable of the white sword, Mr. Sparrow," said Gillette.
Jack watched Hamilton from over the rim of his wine goblet. The man was sheet white, his eyes bulging as he stared back at the pirate captain. "I'd reckon most pirates are…knowledgeable of it, Lieutenant." Then he grinned and leaned back again. "But I myself have never had designs on the white sword. It's a very…ambitious…prize."
Hamilton brought his fists down on the table and stood up. "This is intolerable! He knows nothing, either about the missing persons or the whereabouts of my sword! If there's no information to be had here, then we've no reason to be sitting down playing at pleasantries with sea dogs!"
"Sir Reginald," Norrington said sharply, but Jack just smirked.
Hamilton would not subside. "I'm not staying here one moment longer. Provided I can get off this ship without being further humiliated or robbed." He turned on his heel toward the door.
Jack stood up. "I assure you, Sir Reginald Hamilton, that not a man jack of my crew will even dream of getting between you and your way off my ship." Norrington's eyes narrowed, whereas Lieutenant Gillette appeared to want nothing more than to join Hamilton in fleeing the ship.
Norrington gestured for the marines to follow Hamilton and Gillette out, then leaned abruptly across the table. Jack was surprised; however anxious the Commodore was to hunt down Elizabeth, it had been clear he was just as uncomfortable sitting down with a pirate as the others. But for once, Norrington didn't appear to care in the slightest about Jack's occupation. His voice held only grim worry. "What about the white sword?"
Well, if the fine upstanding Commodore was willing to lower himself to a sincere conversation with a band of scalawags, Jack supposed he should return the favor. He leaned forward and lowered his voice, letting himself be serious in return. "It's an ambitious prize, all right, mate. Very ambitious. There're some in your profession and mine who'd call me mad, but even I'm not so mad as that. And whatever your Sir Fancy-Pants Hamilton says, it's no heirloom."
Norrington's face hardened. "What?"
"Question any old sea dog you've got locked in that brig of yours at the fort. All of 'em will bear me out: your noble friend's no better than the most disreputable of us—hell, worse. He's laid hands on a relic even the stupidest pirate knows better than to touch."
"Enough bloody riddles, Sparrow!" Norrington snapped. "Who were those pirates? Where did they take the white sword, and what does this have to do with Turner and Elizabeth?"
"Where was their ship last seen?" asked Jack.
"Heading northeast out of Kingston Harbor," said the Commodore, "not unlike your Black Pearl's heading after its attack on Port Royal."
"As brilliant a little jab as that is, mate, you might recall I was locked in one of your cells the last time the Pearl attacked Port Royal," said Jack. Norrington started to bristle, but Jack stepped back. "Oh, stand down your guns, you've got bigger problems."
"You know who the pirates were?"
"Not the faintest idea, Commodore, but if the only thing they took of real value was the white sword, I can guess where they're headed." Jack folded his arms, "Fortunately, you've already got the bearings."
"Isla de la Muerta," said Norrington. "Why would they take Hamilton's sword there?"
"Because that's where it belongs, Commodore, and it's not Hamilton's sword, or my name's not Captain Jack Sparrow. Oh yes, that's the truth," he said, seeing Norrington's astonished expression. "Your Sir Reginald is as bad an egg as the worst pirate, with half the scruples. And he's bloody lucky whoever knocked on the governor's door that night did him the favor of taking the sword off his hands before he got what's coming to him."
Norrington bristled. "Sir Reginald Hamilton is my father-in-law."
Jack stared. "Really?"
"Yes."
Jack fingered his trusty compass. "That means I suppose, the girl you married…his daughter?"
"Yes."
"Hm. Hope for your sake she takes after her mother."
***
Elizabeth watched in silence from the little hiding space as Jack showed Commodore Norrington to the door. "And what do you intend to do?" James asked.
"I'll see about catching up with your mysterious raider ship, same as you," said Jack.
"I'm not sure how Sir Reginald will take to joining forces with pirates," said James, and Elizabeth thought she detected a note of amusement in his voice.
"Then aren't we lucky I'm not suggesting it. No offense, mate, but your Dauntless'd never keep up with the Pearl, and for you and me both, the white sword had better get back where it belongs."
"Are you completely incapable of being straightforward, Sparrow?"
"Utterly and completely."
Elizabeth heard Jack follow Norrington out on deck, heard his bellowed, jesting farewells to the boat from the Dauntless, but to her surprise, he came back below very quickly. Before Elizabeth could even reach the door, it was jerked open, and Jack had pulled her out by the arm into the cabin. "Jack, what—"
"Why the devil didn't you tell me about that Hamilton character's sword?"
Elizabeth was stunned. She'd never seen Jack Sparrow look quite so grave. For a minute, she just gaped, then blurted, "You never asked!"
Jack let her go and visibly pulled himself together. In another second, he'd become so very much the swaggering, roguish character she knew that she wondered if she'd imagined his alarm. "So that's the bloke who drove your Will away?"
With a thud, she dropped into one of the chairs, with her forehead on her fists and her elbows on the table. "How did you know?"
"I may prefer chasing skirts to romancing, but I'm no fool, love. And I know your boy. He'd not have run out on you with just rumors and gossip. Any chump who could lay hands on the white sword might even manage to fool Old Bootstrap's boy into believing his girl'd been taken in by someone else—don't ruffle your feathers at me." Jack leaned against the wall and grinned at her. "What gave him that impression?"
Elizabeth rubbed her forehead, shutting her eyes. "My father…I…at his instruction, I put up with Sir Reginald's behavior far more than I usually would. He…importuned me, brazenly, on the night of Commodore Norrington's wedding, and because of what my father had said, I didn't," she laughed bitterly, "I didn't give him the slap he deserved." Jack chuckled. "Will saw us and thought," she beat the table with her fist. "He didn't even trouble to speak to me about it—oh, I'll kill him!"
Footsteps thumped down toward the cabin, and Jack jerked his head at her to follow him to the door. "Dauntless is making sail, Cap'n," said Anamaria as they came out of the cabin.
"And so are we. All hands on deck! Full sail!" Jack bounded up to the wheel. "We're coming about for Isla de la Muerta."
More than a few of the crew looked up at him in surprise. "Back there?" asked Anamaria. "Thought you said the treasure wasn't worth the risk of another curse—"
Jack made a face. "Ain't the treasure this time, love. Wish I could say it was."
"Then what in 'ell are we darin' that place for?" demanded Gibbs.
"Let's just say if we don't, ain't a pirate on the sea who won't be facing a curse," said Jack.
"Shiver me timbers!" said Mr. Cotton's parrot, as the rest of the crew stared at Jack.
Jack saw them, shook his head, and elaborated, "You lot noticed Commodore Norrington's well-dressed friend?"
"Aye, Sir Reginald Whatsit," said Gibbs. "You got 'im upset about something."
"Sir Reginald Fancy-Pants Hamilton," said Jack in a way that made Elizabeth want to giggle, "has gone and stuck his powdered nose where even the stupidest pirate knows not to be setting foot."
"And where exactly?" Elizabeth finally demanded. "You still haven't said what the truth is about this white sword of his."
Jack waited to answer her until the Pearl had come completely about and was already speeding northeast. Then he started her swabbing the deck, but spoke up so she and the rest of the crew could hear. "You know where we pirates and brigands get our booty, love? By pillaging and pilfering, raiding and thieving. But there're some caches and treasures even a pirate won't touch, if he's a mind to live. Barbossa and his lackies—and nearly me, I suppose—found out the hard way. Yet even that old idiot Barbossa wouldn't have been stupid enough to try and get his treasure from a ship sunk by any other than him."
Anamaria's hiss from up in the rigging distracted Elizabeth, then she looked back over at Jack. "I don't understand."
"Ain't only cannon that can sink a ship, Miss Elizabeth. Surely you know that," said Gibbs.
Elizabeth leaned on the mop, chewing her lower lip. "Well…of course, ships sink all the time. Rocks and weather and…" she saw their expressions. "What?"
"Ain't just rocks and weather, Miss," Gibbs told her. "That's the sea makin' a plunder of 'er own. And it's a fool of a mortal who tries to challenge the sea."
"So…that's why pirates…and ordinar—I mean, sailors don't touch the relics of sunken ships. You told me," she said to Gibbs, "on the crossing ten years ago. You said lost ships are sacred."
"And right he was, love," said Jack. "Every pirate knows it; looting a lost ship's a quick ticket to Davey Jones' locker. The sea never gives up her spoils."
The mop had been scrubbing a circle over the same patch of deck for five minutes. Elizabeth plunked it back into the bucket in disgust, leaning back against the deck rail. "Where did the white sword come from?"
Jack checked their heading with his compass, and turned the wheel a few points before speaking. "Recall twelve years ago, love, when the Pearl and me went after the treasure of Isla de la Muerta—and old Barbossa decided he wanted to be captain of my ship." He rested his chin on the wheel and smirked. "Don't need to tell ya how that turned out. But anyway, what everyone seems to have forgotten is that the Black Pearl wasn't the only pirate ship with that island treasure in mind."
"But you were the only one with the compass," Elizabeth guessed.
Jack waggled the compass at her. "Exactly. And a pretty fair number of 'em never came back. It's a treacherous passage even for those who know where the island is. Those who don't," he ran the palm of his hand into his balled fist, like a ship running up on a rock.
"And what about the white sword?" she asked.
"Ah. The white sword was, shall we say, the trademark of a pirate by the name of Wellings. Copperhead Wellings. A man so vicious that even the strongest pirate flinches at the mention of his name—excepting myself, of course," Jack added. "But he was a cunning old water snake, that's for sure, and took some grand prizes in his day. His ship was the Bloodstone," a look of rare respect came into Jack's eyes. Gibbs and the others leaned forward eagerly. "She was a Spanish man o' war, seized by Copperhead and his crew on her maiden voyage—a beauty she was, one of the only ships in the Caribbean who could match the Black Pearl for speed. But like so many before him, Copperhead met his end on the passage to Isla de la Muerta, and you can see his grave there still, where it juts out the water at low tide. But," he pointed ominously at Elizabeth and the others, "there's no pirate fool enough to contest the sea's claim on her relics. Even scurvy sea-dogs like us don't set foot on a ship we didn't sink ourselves." With a curt nod, he turned the wheel a few more points and let out a bark of contemptuous laughter. "Obviously that's a lesson your Sir Reginald Fancy-Pants Hamilton never learned."
"So you think those other raiders are taking the white sword back to Isla de la Muerta?" asked Elizabeth
"The white sword was the only thing of value they took," said Gibbs. "It ain't in the Code for pirates to look out for each other, but we're all in trouble if Old Copperhead and the Bloodstone come looking for their most famous treasure." Elizabeth stared at him, and he nodded gravely. "Oh, yes, lass. You've 'eard the old tales of the fates that befall grave robbers. The sea's a grave too, and just because some of 'er treasures can be seen don't give no one the right to disturb 'er slumber. And if the crew o' the Bloodstone's been rudely wakened, they'll be wanting their sword back. Ain't no one safe on the seas till they get it."
Elizabeth returned her attention to the mop and shuddered.
***
Aboard the Lady Laurel, two days later…
"It's a bonny thing, isn't it?" sighed Krighton, as Will polished the white sword. "As though 'twas carved from the shell of one bloody big oyster. Shimmers like the moon." He took the sword carefully and moved the lantern closer for a better look, watching the orange flames gleaming dully back in the mother-of-pearl's pale luster.
Will ran a finger across the scabbard, feeling its smoothness. "Not a seam or an edge to be found. I've never seen craftsmanship so fine as this. It must have taken half a lifetime to fashion the scabbard alone."
"Don't get too attached to it, lad," said Captain Willem from the foot of the stairs. "We'll be well rid of it once we get where we're going."
"Aww, Cap'n, why can't we keep it?" whined O'Malley. "Ye dragged us all the way to Port Royal with barely a sack to show for it, an' now we gotta dump the best o' the loot!"
"Would you prefer being chased across the high seas by Copperhead Wellings and the Bloodstone?" asked Atticus.
Krighton dropped the white sword. The chatter in the lower deck ceased. Will looked up. "Copperhead who?"
"'E ain't a pirate, Cap'n. Doesn't know the story," said Krighton. He picked up the sword and handed it gingerly back to Will. "I'd forgot about this."
"This Copperhead was the previous owner of the white sword?" Will asked Atticus.
"No previous about it, son. He's the rightful owner of the white sword," said the captain. Will's fingers unconsciously tightened on the beautiful weapon, and Atticus saw it. "As I said, boy, don't get too attached. It's not yours to claim, and there'll be trouble for everyone on the seas, pirate, merchant, soldier alike, if it's not sent back to the ship from whence it came."
"The Bloodstone was bad enough in 'er day," said O'Malley. "I'm not keen on meetin' up with 'er now."
"Aye, and Copperhead Wellings was a pirate to be reckoned with." Captain Willem marched toward the mess table, as several of the men moved hastily out of his way. He helped himself to a mug of grog and a hunk of meat and sat down in the nearest seat.
"You say he was a pirate?" asked Will. "What's to fear from him now?"
Atticus glowered at Will over his tankard. "Dumb question, lad. You remember the fate of the Greymalkin, just like you told me. And then try and say there's nothing to fear from the dead who've been robbed."
Will's own dinner turned to mud in his mouth. He stared at the pale glimmer of the pearl sword in his lap, remembering what he had heard on his last day aboard the Greymalkin. "The sea don't give up 'er spoils!"
He held the white sword up in the light, noting the way the men flinched away from it. "This was stolen from a wrecked ship?"
"Not just any wrecked ship. The white sword belonged to Captain Copperhead Wellings of the Bloodstone, as ruthless and hard a man as Barbossa himself—"
"—How do you know of Barbossa?!" Will exclaimed.
Atticus blinked. "Every pirate left in the Caribbean knows about the mutinous Barbossa, son, and the sticky end he met. One'd think that the fate of Copperhead Wellings would've been a lesson to him not to cross the captain of the Black Pearl." Will leaned forward, for once forgetting all about the white sword. Willem went on, "The Pearl was captained by a man named Jack Sparrow." Only by biting the inside of his mouth did Will manage to hide his grin. He could hear Jack saying Captain, it's Captain Jack Sparrow. "Dozens of pirates, maybe even hundreds, had been lost trying to find their way to Isla de la Muerta, legendary home of one of the greatest treasure caches in the Caribbean. About twelve years ago, good old Captain Jack showed up in Tortuga with a mind to go after it—and claiming to have the bearings."
"They say 'e 'ad 'em on a broken compass," put in Krighton. "Doesn't point north, I's 'eard, but does point the way to the island."
Willem nodded. "Just so. But not everyone knew that at the time, save one. Just after Captain Jack'd got together his crew, the Bloodstone made port in Tortuga. Story is that Jack—drunk, no doubt—told Copperhead Wellings about the compass. When he realized what he'd done, he knew Copperhead'd try to get his hands on it. So instead, he challenged Copperhead to a race, offering to give him the bearings and have both ships make sail at once. Rumor had it that the Bloodstone was the only ship in the Caribbean fast as the Pearl. All Tortuga was placing bets. Would've been a grand event."
"I'm guessing this Copperhead was not to be trusted," said Will.
"Right you are, son. The night before the intended race, Copperhead and his crew boarded the Pearl in secret, trying to get into Jack's quarters and steal the compass. Well, Captain Jack Sparrow's a savvy character, and he and his crew fought 'em off. There's those of us who always wondered if the man on night watch didn't let Copperhead in, hoping for a bigger share of the riches."
"If Jack was asleep, it was probably the first mate on watch," said Will.
"Aye, it was. You know the tale of the Black Pearl, lad?" asked Willem, regarding Will curiously.
"I've heard it. I know the mutinous Barbossa was once Captain Sparrow's first mate."
"Exactly. For a pirate, they say Captain Jack always was too honest for his own bloody good. Nearly got him killed more than once. Anyway, Copperhead managed to make a grab for the compass long enough to get a rough peek at the bearings, but by then Jack's crew had got into the quarters to back him, and Copperhead had to leave the compass and dive out the window. The Bloodstone set sail that very night. Copperhead said he'd seen enough to find the island, and the treasure would be his alone. But the passage to Isla de la Muerta is treacherous, my boy, and when the Black Pearl came in after, they found the Bloodstone's rigging sticking out of the water like dead bones. Her belly'd been ripped clean open by the rocks, all hands lost. Copperhead never got within sight of Isla de la Muerta."
"And the white sword was lost with 'im," said O'Malley. "Belongs to Copperhead and the sea now, lad, and we'll be reckoning with both if we don't give it back."
Will sighed, running his fingertips again over the silver and pearl handle. Atticus leaned toward him. "It's not worth it, son," he said in a low voice. "Steal a relic from a ship claimed by the sea, and you'll pay with your life, and then some. That sword's beyond priceless."
***
Late the next afternoon…
Atticus walked through the silent crew cabin on his way to his own quarters when his watch had ended. The few men not on watch were asleep, and though Atticus was tired himself, he took a few steps out of his way through the row of berths, until he could see the dark head in the hammock closest to the wall. Will's face was completely relaxed in sleep, but Atticus could tell that like himself, the boy would be up like a shot at the slightest sound. Still, Atticus had no desire to wake him now, but stared more openly than he should have at the tan face, heavily-lidded eyes, and dark curls brushing the boy's jaw line. The young Turner had been sleeping very heavily lately when off duty, and Atticus suspected it was out of a desire to escape the guilt the boy felt at having attacked his former home. After the raid, the captain had heard that Turner had been hit, and had rushed below decks to make sure he was all right. He was, but he'd been nigh unconscious with red eyes and a pallid face, and the men reported he'd looked positively ill on returning to the Lady Laurel.
The sword hadn't left the boy's sight since then, and even now he had it clutched in his hands as he slept. Atticus knew what the boy was thinking; Will believed he'd sold his soul for the weapon. Being a pirate doesn't make you a monster, lad. I've seen real monsters, and you'll never be like them. Of course, there was no use telling Will that now. The trip would get nastier the closer they got to Isla de la Muerta—Atticus didn't think Old Copperhead would take the loss of his trademark lying down. He'd be very surprised if the Bloodstone wasn't already abroad on the Caribbean. It was up to the Laurel to get the sword back in the water where the ship had fallen before Copperhead decided take revenge on them.
He cast one more glance at the sleeping Will Turner, then headed for his own cabin. But as his luck would have it, he'd barely opened the door before the deck bell rang wildly, and the watchman cried, "Sail a leeward!"
Atticus sighed at the thought of his lost appointment with his pillow and trudged back up the steps. "Where, Mr. Dunsford?" he asked the first mate.
Dunsford pointed at the silhouette against the setting sun. "A galleon from the looks of her, sir. Could be a warship."
"On an intercept?" asked Atticus. He aimed his spy glass at it, but the glare was too bright to get any clear view of the ship. "Can't see a bloody thing. Get all hands on deck, ready the guns until we learn her intentions. Full sail ahead. Until we get Copperhead's sword back where it belongs I don't want to risk any nasty encounters."
"Aye-aye, sir. All hands on deck!"
The crew scrambled on deck. Atticus noticed that Will had the sword strapped to his belt. At least they knew where it was at all times, though if this ship were a naval vessel or worse, they'd have to hide it. "Keep an eye on her. Once the sun's down a bit, we should have a clear view. Full speed ahead, Krighton."
"Aye!"
The Lady Laurel was small, but fast, which was precisely the kind of ship Atticus Willem had sought. She cut through the water like a flying fish, but it was soon clear to all aboard her that her speed was matched by the galleon behind them. The men went about their duties tensely, watching as the ship's sails, black against the sun, grew larger and larger, until at last the sun was low enough to where they could distinguish the vessel.
"Oh bloody barking hell! Black sails! It's the Black Pearl!"
"We're in the Pearl's territory, I'm not surprised," said Atticus. To himself, he murmured, "Well, I knew I'd be meeting up with him sooner or later, I suppose now's as good a time as any. Although," he glanced at Will up in the rigging, "maybe not. Maybe now's a worse time than any." He raised his voice, "Forget it, lads. Trying to outrun the Pearl is a fool's errand."
"So's fightin' 'er!" cried Krighton. Next to him, Will stared down at Atticus, his face unreadable.
"I've no intention of fighting her. Take in sail and heave to. Run up a white flag." The crew looked doubtful, but did as they were told. Atticus reassured them, "Captain Jack Sparrow's a decent pirate, and we've got little to interest him. Once he establishes that, he'll probably send us on our way."
Once the Lady Laurel had been brought to a stop, Will climbed down from the rigging and stood a little behind Atticus, a very strange look in his eyes. "Ye've 'eard of the Black Pearl, ain't ye, me lad?" asked one of the men.
"Yes."
Atticus stared at him. Considering how the boy had reacted to his own first pirate raid, he certainly didn't appear disturbed by the sight of the greatest pirate threat on the Caribbean. Quite the opposite, in fact. Before Atticus had a chance to question the boy, the Black Pearl was pulling up alongside.
"And there be the man 'imself, a legend in 'is own time," said Krighton, blocking Atticus's view with his curiosity.
Indeed, there he was, standing with puffed up importance at the helm of the Black Pearl: Captain Jack Sparrow, running his eyes over the Lady Laurel like a fox inspecting a chicken coop. Atticus debated how best to go about this meeting, then finally decided he might as well get it over with. With that in mind, he brushed Krighton out of the way in time for Jack's gaze to fall upon him. "Ahoy, there, Black Pearl!"
The reaction he got was just as he'd predicted. Captain Jack Sparrow, the most imperturbable pirate on the Caribbean, was perturbed. He released his hold on the wheel of his precious ship, and took a few steps toward the deck rail, his jaw hanging open. Then, in proper Jack Sparrow style, he recovered so swiftly that those watching might have thought they imagined his brief loss of composure. He leaned against the rail and shouted back, "Ahoy, Lady Laurel!"
"Captain Atticus Willem at your service, sir," said Atticus, before Jack had the opportunity to speak more.
Jack was silent for several beats, one eyebrow raised. Then all at once, both eyebrows nearly vanished under the rim of his hat, and his gaze flicked away from the other captain. Atticus glanced over his shoulder and found Will just behind him, wearing a rather sheepish expression. He looked from Will to the captain of the Black Pearl again. So, that explained a great deal. The pirate and the boy had definitely met before.
And that put Atticus in an awkward position. Fortunately for him, Jack Sparrow was a perceptive man, and rose to the occasion. Sweeping his hat off, he gave a grand bow. "Captain Willem of the Lady Laurel, very pleased to make your…acquaintance."
"Likewise, Captain Sparrow."
So much for getting any sleep.
To be continued…
Coming up next: Will's going to be hard-pressed enough to survive getting the white sword back where it belongs—but will he live through his reunion with his lost love? A race against time and tide begins! Oh, and if you haven't figured out who the mysterious Atticus is by now, I recommend watching the movie again!
Don't forget to review!