As I've said before, I haven't read the entire MC series yet. (I'm waiting anxiously for book 3 to arrive in the mail) The HMS Sophie was Jack's first command and I don't know if it's mentioned past the first book, so I took the liberty of plugging her in here.
Chapter Five
Revelation
in which two mysteries are dispelled
Stephen awoke to his stomach's angry gurgling, and was vaguely conscious of having heard bells only a few moments before. He marveled at how his body adjusted to the naval schedule, as far as food was concerned, and wondered how it was that sailors seemed to wake up naturally with the changing of the watches and learned to dispel their tiredness with ease.
Perhaps I shall put that to the captain's table today.
Cora was already awake when he was dressed and ready, leading him to believe his thoughts applied to pirates too. She was adjusting her bandana, and once she noticed him she smiled and rubbed her eyes.
"I damn near slept through the last dogwatch. We've got us some good rum here."
"And I'm sure we'll drink more of it than is healthy at dinner. Are you ready to go?"
"If you are."
A short walk and companionable silence later they were in the great cabin at the rear of the ship. The rest of the dinner party was already assembled and laughing. The laughter died down somewhat as Cora and Stephen entered, although Stephen was greeted warmly. Mr. Blakeney, remembering their conversation before the storm, stood and pulled out Cora's chair. She thanked him quietly and sat with her eyes cast down at the plate.
Noticing the awkwardness that now stretched the length and breadth of his table, Jack cleared his throat and began to speak.
"Gentlemen, I know you are wondering why Miss Turner is here. The truth is that she did us a good service during the storm. She saved one of our topmen and clung to the mainmast for as long as the rest of our sailors. I expect you to show her the same courtesy you would show any other guest at this table."
There were murmured assents and a few greeting nods in Cora's direction. Stephen looked at her, curious to see how she handled the scrutiny. Her face was carefully neutral, until they reached another lull.
"The truth is, gentlemen, that I won't bite you if you speak to me. And I will answer any question you ask me." She grinned and took a drink from the glass Killick poured her. "But only if you pass this around a few more times."
"We could never take advantage of you in such a state." Mr. Davies, the new sailing master they'd picked up in Valparaiso, said with a tight smile.
"Oh, don't worry about me. I split the better half of a bottle with the doctor before we came down here and you can ask him how much of myself I gave away. I merely want a little compensation for my pains."
The whole table laughed at this and agreed to pass the bottle around to her as many times as she'd like.
They talked in a desultory fashion while they waited for Killick to finish serving, mostly about the wind and current and the time they expected to make. They spoke a little of the pursuit of the Running- they had seen sails during the height of the storm, only a few miles distant, and then lost them -but changed their tack when they remembered who was sharing their table.
Cora was in earnest when she said she'd answer any question they asked her, but it took the men some time to gather the courage to take her up on her offer. In the end it was Blakeney who rose to the occasion.
"Miss Turner, I was wondering... that is, I thought you might know of a ship I heard of."
"What ship?"
"The Black Pearl. Is she real?"
Cora sat back in her chair, her grey-blue eyes knowing and a bit sad.
"She was real, until she sank in '99. I spent the better part of my childhood alongside her. Her captain was my grand-godfather, as we used to say. I assume you've heard stories about the Pearl?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Well, she wasn't a ghost ship like they used to say. We always laughed when we heard that- our bark was worse than our bite. The legend made people run up their colors more than her guns did." She smiled softly. "God, she was a beautiful ship. They say Captain Jack Sparrow sold his soul to get her. He never loved another as much as his precious Pearl." She lowered her eyes. "I miss him greatly. My heart stopped when I saw him fall in that last battle."
"Have you killed a man?" Mr. Davies asked suddenly. "An honest sailor?"
Cora met his eyes. For a moment she looked guilty, and then her expression hardened.
"I have."
"You know, there was a question I had intended to ask you." Stephen said just as suddenly. Every eye present at the table turned to view him with thinly veiled confusion. "I woke feeling quite hungry and I realized that my body had gotten used to eating at this time. I thought there are no more knowledgeable men than the men sitting here, so here is my question: is it the same for every sailor?"
His distraction had the desired effect. The captain's table exploded with opinions and anecdotes, each man vying to expound his to the doctor and make him believe it, from Blakeney up to the captain himself. As they broke off into their own arguments and discussions, Cora leaned over to Stephen.
"Thank you."
He raised his glass slightly in acknowledgement.
"I could hardly let you go to the lions."
She laughed quietly and leaned over to reach for the bottle. For just a moment, the length of her body from her elbow to her shoulder brushed against Stephen's. Both of them flinched back, surprised at the contact, and tried to keep from staring at each other.
"Dear doctor, I do believe you aren't even listening to our opinions," Jack smiled from the head of the table. "What have you been talking about down there?"
"I was just asking the doctor what the proper protocol in the Navy for proposing a toast." Cora covered.
"I don't believe there is one."
"Well then, I win a bet. My good friend Mr. Gibbs once said that there is a protocol for everything in the Navy." She smiled back, raising her glass. "To you, Captain Aubrey, for weathering that storm. I have scarcely seen better navigation in all my years. You know your vessel and your men well, and for that I applaud you."
"Here, here."
"To you, Captain."
Jack's normally ruddy face was suffused with even more color at this and he accepted the toast with downcast eyes and a smile.
"Gentlemen, pass the bottle to Miss Turner. I have a question to ask." He said when the toast was done and her cup was empty. "It's a question I've asked before, but I failed to ply her with wine beforehand, and I must assume that this is why she failed to answer."
Chuckles at this, and the bottle was passed. Cora looked a little wary- was Jack about to do what they both feared? Stephen could see her hand tensing on the arm of her chair. Without thinking, he touched the back of it. She wrapped her fingers around his, bringing their hands palm to palm out of sight of the others and holding his tight.
Cora held her glass while it was filled and then looked to Jack.
"And your question, Captain?"
Jack paused, leaning across the table.
"How old are you?"
Cora's hand relaxed instantly in Stephen's, but she didn't move to take it away. Instead she raised the glass to her lips and drained it all in one gulp.
"If you gentlemen simply must know, I am twenty-five years old." She laughed. "Are you satisfied, Captain?"
"We never would've guessed!"
"It's so hard to tell!"
"The sea must keep you young!"
"You are too kind, gentlemen," She laughed. "And the same must apply to you, if you will say it of me."
The table dissolved once more into aimless chatter, and as Cora was caught in the current she let go of Stephen's hand to articulate some sort of nautical process better. He sat back, knowing he couldn't join in, and observed the company as he was wont to do when the conversation went over his head. Every man present paid Cora the respect she was due, even daring in a few flirtatious remarks. Every man but Mr. Davies. The moment Cora entered in the conversation, he went silent and sat back like Stephen, and didn't rejoin it until her voice faded away again.
The night wore on and soon voices could be heard drifting down from the deck. Everyone stilled to pick up the strains of the song, and everyone chuckled when they heard the words.
Oh, what do ye do with a drunken sailor?
What do ye do with a drunken sailor?
What do ye do with a drunken sailor earl-eye in the mornin'?
Scrape 'is belly with a rusty razor
Scrape 'is belly with a rusty razor...
"I love this song." Cora grinned.
"Did you sing it on your ship?" Mr. Mowett asked.
"All the time."
The sailors were on the fifth refrain when the party finally broke up. As Stephen and Cora walked together towards the orlop, Cora couldn't resist joining in on a few of the raunchier phrases. Her particular favorite was the one about putting him in a room with the captain's daughter.
"Do you know, we could change it to fit us?" She said when they were down in the orlop. It was beginning to clear out now, and they were all but alone.
"Us?" Stephen asked. The memory of her hand in his was still vivid, as if he could still the pulse of her fingertips.
"Yes. It still fits the rhythm if you sing it as 'put her in the brig with the captain's doctor,'" She shook her head, still smiling. Her cheeks were flushed- he could see it even in the low light of the ship's belly.
"My darling Miss Turner, I do believe you're drunk." He sighed, shaking his head. "There's a bucket over there if you decide to vomit in the morning."
"I am most certainly not drunk," She swaggered over to stand close to Stephen, her voice turning to a whisper. Her hand fiddled with the cloth at his neck. "And my name is Cora."
Following a whim, Stephen reached behind her and tugged her bandana off so that her hair fell wild and untamed around her face. The action brought her body flush against his, and this time there was a spark of heat, followed by a steady desire not to move her from where she currently was.
"You should leave it like this." He murmured. His fingers ached to touch it, to touch her, but they wouldn't move from his sides.
Then they both heard footsteps on the nearby stairs and Cora stood back. She took the bandana from him and put it back on in a movement so fast it was difficult to see. Moments later Mr. Davies stood in the orlop. He was a tall, thin sailor, with deep lines carved into his face by years of wind and sea and squinted eyes that made him look perpetually angry. Which he was, in any case, having the misfortune to be a sailor with the first name Jonah.
"Miss Turner, the captain wants you for this watch."
The change in Cora was instantaneous. Gone was the slightly-drunk woman who'd smiled at Stephen with eyes full of light and returned was the mostly-sober sailor with eyes full of secrets. The pirate.
"Very well. I'll accompany you topside."
She didn't look back or say goodnight.
The next day, three bells into the afternoon watch, Jack Aubrey sat alone in the great cabin with his quill scratching at the pages of his logbook.
Opened beef cask No. 134. Bent new topgallants. Trained gun crew. Still in pursuit of pirate frigate.
His daily entries were cleansing for him, although he'd started this one early. He touched wood that it wouldn't be a full day; he'd already called for the crew to weigh anchor and raise canvas to commence repairs after the damages of the storm. She'd been a violent blow, and while they'd lost no lives and suffered no crippling damage, the rigging was still a trifle confused.
He was about to list the other repairs the Surprise was enduring when he heard Killick's grumbling and his shuffling step getting closer.
"Which it is Mr. Davies, sir."
The officer made his obedience and then approached Jack at his table.
"Sir, I came to discuss last night."
"What about last night? I know you didn't want to bend the new topgallants, but the old ones simply wouldn't do after that storm, not in my book." He took a deep breath and glowered at the sailing master. "Heaven help you, Mr. Davies, if this is about Miss Turner."
"Sir, it is." He responded stiffly.
Ever since they took Coraline Turner prisoner Davies had made no secret of his thoughts: hanging was almost too good. He'd heard whispers that Davies' brother or someone else he knew was killed by pirates in these very waters only a year or so ago. The rumor was that the murderers might even be the same pirates they were chasing now.
"I've made my feelings on the matter as clear as you've made yours. If she can be brought to cooperate with us, God willing, I will grant her a pardon and set her free."
"With respect, sir, do you think your reasons will stand up before the Admiralty?"
A defined chill settled over the room at those words. Jack's merry blue eyes hardened perceptibly.
"Even if they do not stand up before the Admiralty, they stand up before my conscience. That is justification enough for me. If you have nothing else to say, I strongly suggest you return to your duties."
"I have one more message, sir. We just saw sails on the horizon."
They cleared the deck for action, but in the end it was the table that needed clearing. The captain of the sloop was an old friend of Jack's, a man by the name of Michael McCormack; they'd been midshipmen together, but when he consistently failed to pass for captain in later years he accepted a life as a merchantman instead. He worked for the East India Trading Company.
They shared a private dinner that night, chewing over old acquaintances as Jack caught McCormack up on his naval news. Some had died, some had been promoted, some had been passed- the usual. He went into a long account of his fight with the Acheron, still fresh and glorious in his mind, but said nothing of the current affair he was in. That was why the last turn of their conversation, when it was getting late and the wine was running out, came as a surprise.
"Tell me, Jack," Michael asked. "Do you intend to stay long in the Caribbean?"
"We have some business to wrap up here and then we're homeward bound. I intend to make Gibraltar no later than November."
"Good, good. I wouldn't want to stay here long if I were still part of the Navy. The tables have been turned!"
"What do you mean?" Jack felt a curious calm stealing over him- the calm before the storm.
"Well, you know how these waters used to be suicide for merchantmen, what with the pirates and all. As I've heard tell, most of the good pirates are gone now, and the last terror of this sea has set her sights on Navy ships now."
"Navy ships?"
"Yes! Let's see, there was the King Charles, a lively frigate, that was sunk not a month ago. And before that an older sloop called the Sophie, and some others farther back that I don't recall. All by the same ship."
"Surely not my Sophie!" Jack cried.
"The same, I believe, and a few others. She's a nasty little bitch of a frigate, they say, quite large for a pirate vessel. I haven't seen her meself, but I heard tell of her last time I made port. They say she has a blood feud with the Navy and she'll sink anything that crosses her path bearing the Union Jack, and takes no prisoners. Burn it to the waterline with the crew still aboard, and the captain's head taken with his own sword."
A deep chill set itself in Jack's bones, despite the alcohol and the close heat of the room.
"Did you happen to hear the frigate's name?"
Stephen lay awake reading that night, unable to find sleep. Cora had long since returned from her watch and gone to bed, and every so often he'd glance outside to see if she remained. They hadn't spoken since the night previous. Part of him ached to step outside and wake her, but he had no idea what he'd say or do.
He ceased reading when he heard the heavy tread of several men coming down to the orlop and lay still, wondering what purpose they could have down here. He was certain they were walking in time with each other, which could mean only one thing- the marines.
Foreboding gripped him. He set aside his book and climbed out of his hammock in time to see Cora rise from hers and face Mr. Howard and four of his men.
"I'm to take you to the captain's cabin, Miss Turner." A pair of manacles dangled from his hands.
"Those won't be necessary." Her voice was tight with fear.
"Captain's orders."
"Please, I've done nothing-"
"Captain's orders."
Two of the marines held her arms while the third fastened the manacles. They assumed positions around her and prepared to lead her away.
Stephen followed without being asked. The foreboding feeling that had prompted him to leave the warm safety of his hammock compelled him to follow their small detachment through the ship, past the angry stares of the sailors, towards the great cabin. Before they could reach it, Mr. Andersen, the sailor whose life Cora saved, stepped in front of them and spat in her path.
"Fucking pirate!"
Mr. Hollar called for the man's name to be taken down, then led them down into the cabin.
Jack was waiting there, standing at stiff attention. Killick was in the background, clearing off the remains of dinner. Stephen had noted on their way over that the ship visiting them, the Beacon, was departing.
"Mr. Howard, stand your men down and retire. Stephen, I recommend that you return to your quarters."
Mr. Howard gave a dutiful 'aye sir' and then addressed his men, but Stephen squared his shoulders.
"I intend to find out what this show of force was for."
Jack cast Stephen a withering stare.
"That 'show of force' was for Miss Turner's benefit. I want her to realize that she remains a prisoner on board this ship."
"She's standing right here."
"Sir, why did you bring me here?" Cora asked quietly. She stood in the middle of the cabin with her shackled hands lax before her. She didn't look afraid- only very, very tired.
"I shared dinner with an old friend of mine tonight. He told me a very interesting story about a pirate frigate that had been patrolling these waters for ships of the fleet these past two years. He said that her favorite tactic is to attack a ship once, pretend to board, and then flee, only to attack the same ship later. On the second attack, she has always contrived some sort of method to get in boarding close to the enemy ship without being fired on, and then when she opens fire every man on board is massacred and the ship sunk. He told me the ship's name was the Lone Star Running."
Cora was shaking. Jack took a step closer to her, his massive height making her seem small and helpless.
"Miss Turner, you will tell me why you are on this ship. If you will not, then it will be the cat for you tomorrow, so help me God."
Cora took a deep breath and closed her eyes; Stephen knew she was trying not to cry.
"We've been sinking all those ships because my mother would send me over in our first attack and leave me. Then later she'd come back to ransom me. Just as she and the captain reached an accord our ship would open fire and we'd flood their decks and kill them.
"I've never wanted this. I've never hated it more than now. When I got on this ship I saw it as a means to escape. That's why I kept asking you to leave me at the next port. I don't want this life. Not anymore. Not with my mother as captain of that ship."
Jack took a step back from Cora, who bowed her head to hide the tears burning in her eyes. Then he went to the door of his cabin and called up:
"Pass the world for Mr. Howard, and tell him to bring the key to the irons with him." He turned back to Cora. "Is there anything that can be done?"
"The next time you see the Running, attack her. Even if she's flying a flag of truce. Especially if she's flying a flag of truce."
"If it comes to battle, can I guarantee your allegiance to our cause?"
"I've already told you, Captain. I want no part of this. If it comes to battle, I only want to remain in the hold and pretend I don't hear the screams."
Jack took this in and nodded.
"As soon as Mr. Howard arrives and unlocks those irons, the doctor can take you back to the orlop. I'll send for you in the morning and I expect you to be ready to tell me everything you know about that ship- her weaknesses, her strengths, the way she fights, everything. I will take her a prize or sink her, and then you will be free. We will secure you a full pardon."
Cora nodded and then stood mute until Mr. Howard arrived, at which point she went over to him and held out her hands. Then Stephen approached Jack, close enough to whisper.
"You just made her sell her soul, Jack."
"She said she wanted freedom. I've given it to her."
Stephen sighed, seeing the deadness in her eyes when she turned back to them.
"I don't think she knew the cost."
Jack gave Stephen a queer look.
"Until the Running has struck her colors Miss Turner is still a prisoner. Remember that, Stephen."
Cora remained silent all the way back to the orlop. When they got there, she simply stood staring at her hammock. Stephen stared at her back, as unable as before to contemplate sleep.
"I betrayed them. Everyone." She whispered.
Stephen went to her and put his hand on her shoulder. Sensing the pressure, she turned to face him. Without speaking, following only instinct, they wrapped their arms around each other in a slow embrace. She smelled of saltwater- but for a reason he couldn't define, the scent reminded him more of tears than of the sea.
"I promise you it was for the best." He whispered.
She nodded, and after another moment Stephen let her go. She put one hand on his chest; after a moment, it strayed up so that her fingertips brushed his cheek.
"I told you when I chose my course you'd be the first to know." Her eyes seemed to be searching for something in his. She dropped her hand and took a step back; now her eyes said that she'd seen something in his that frightened her.
The same vertigo swirled over the doctor. He turned on his heel and went back into his cabin and reached for the bottle of laudanum. As he was counting each merciful drop, he couldn't escape the fact running endlessly through his head: Jack's warning was one he could not heed.
Kevin Andersen's feet hit the deck with a resounding echo as he leapt out of the rigging. The blessed sound of the bells had reached their ears and the watch was changing. Time for someone else to take care of the sails- he was away to his hammock.
"Did you hear the captain's decision on her? The pirate?" His friend Alexander Toner asked as they waited for the watch to finish changing. "She cries her sad story about hating her life, and he says she'll get a pardon if she just tells him how to sink her own ship. Complete bollocks, I say."
"It should be the noose for her and nothing else." Kevin agreed vehemently. "The way she's been betraying Navy ships all this time- and she didn't come clean about it right away either. How do we know she really wants to become a good citizen after all?"
"Leave it lie," Their third companion, Billy Robinson, said. "It's not for us to decide. And she did save your life, Kevin."
Kevin sneered and spat over the rail. "One good deed. I'm nothing compared to the dozens I'll bet she's killed. Your own father's ships were sunk by pirates out here, Bill, don't you remember? His whole fortune was in those ships. If it weren't for those pirates you could've had an officer's commission, instead of scraping by as a topman."
Billy grit his teeth and spat over the rail too.
"I still say we leave it lie. There's nothing we can do."
"Aye. That's the truth of it."
As one the three of them turned and prepared to head below to their berth. Their sojourn was halted by a fist in Kevin's stomach.
"What's this about?" Alex hissed as his friend doubled over. They froze when the sailing master stepped out from the shadows and withdrew his fist.
"I wouldn't leave it lie, if I were you."
Billy and Alex glanced at each other.
"Yea, and what would you do? Sir?"
"It's not what I'll do, gentlemen," Jonah Davies said. "It's what we'll do."
A/N-- And now the tables have turned... will Jack be successful against the Running? Will Cora change her mind? And what is Mr. Davies up to? The next chapter is where it starts to get good... Please review! (thanks to Rachel. S and FuchsiaII for doing just that!)
