Chapter Twelve

The bartering of passage had taken far less time than any of them had hoped. The man, hardly shorter than Elizabeth, had been thankful for the money, English or not, and seemed to communicate well enough. He ushered the three of them onto the deck of the seemingly unstable boat. As the short captain and his only deckhand went about getting the boat ready to make way, Norrington's opinion on the fragile appearance of the boat was already adjusting itself. While from a distance the sails seemed no more than paper and the decks fragile timbers, once a body was aboard, one felt the strength in shuddering through every board and every line. Samuel moved straight for the railing to watch the stout rope be cast off by small, expert hands and the wind catch in the playful sails.

Elizabeth tried to hide her gleeful smile as she admired the pair Samuel McCormick and James Norrington made. The boy would make a sharp motion toward some point of interest, and his taller companion would lean forward on the railing to catch a glimpse of whatever it was he had seen. Identical grins seized their faces, watching the others' reaction. She watched the both of them, without their knowing, catching them at their most candid. Only once did Norrington turn his head and catch her eye, both turning to face the other direction quicker than expected.

The boats they passed in the floating marketplace offered a tantalizing plethora of living and deceased animals, sweet-smelling spices, linens and European-style dresses, all for sale in a myriad of tongues known to no one aboard save the small captain and his silent deckhand. Samuel didn't care, leaning placidly against the railing and simply letting the port overwhelm his senses.

The sun finally vanished from the watery horizon, bringing a heavy dusk on the three of them. Once the stars began to appear, the port of Singapore was quickly disappearing behind them. Norrington leaned over the rudder, watching the black specks of the Gorgon and the Agrias bob in the retreating distance. Gillette would be angry with him for not bringing him on the journey, but it would be over quickly and he was sure the man would have been bored out of his mind. They would question his disappearance, and surely Elizabeth's presence would be missed. Questions might be raised as to the planned timeliness of the situation, but Norrington shrugged them off casually. Should William decide to finally run him through for this final trespass, he decided that his goal was well-protected in Gillette's hands. A faint smile tugged at the edges of his mouth.

Samuel had disappeared below into the small cabin assigned to guests aboard the boat. Norrington failed to remember the intricate Chinese pronunciation of the boat's name, and therefore decided to simply refer to it as The Boat. He opened the creaking door to the cramped quarters to find a sleeping Samuel curled in a silent ball on the damp mattress. Norrington stifled a yawn, realizing that his own tiredness had snuck up on him.

With a cautious flop, Norrington lay down on the opposite side of the mattress, feeling around for the scratchy woolen blanket. He tucked it around Samuel's small body, allowing himself a modest corner to cover his midsection. A shadow in the doorway caught his eye, and he looked up with sleep-blurred vision. Elizabeth shifted embarrassedly to her other foot, watching Norrington's strange blanket ritual. He leaned on one elbow, propping himself up in a strangely impromptu way.

"I don't bite, Elizabeth," he said pointedly, wishing he had said something less banal. She offered an almost sarcastic smile. "I will gladly give you my share of the mattress--"

"No," Elizabeth said, too quick but also not quick enough. She saw the awkwardness in her objection. "Don't, on my behalf..."

"Despite my newfound occupation, or lack thereof, I am still a man of honor."

He vacated his spot beside Samuel, giving Elizabeth no other choice. She sat quietly beside the sleeping boy, curling her legs beneath her. Her eyes questioned, "And what about you?" so he quickly answered for her.

"I shall find my own method of sleep. Perhaps I'll keep a weather eye for Taiwan. You give Samuel the company he deserves." He managed to crack a smile before heading off for the deck above. Elizabeth's eyes were still bored into his skull, no matter how many times he closed his eyes to the darkness.

The sea and the sky melded in blackness, one swallowing the other, both dotted with fiery stars. One set was as real as the heart beating in Norrington's chest, while the other was false and dimly reflected. A third set, those reflected in his eyes, were flat and lifeless. His lids closed softly as he leaned on the railing, watching the stars dance in the water while lying stagnant in the sky. A smile, then complete darkness took him.

He woke from dreamless sleep with the stars still sitting silent in a lightening sky. The faint outline of some land mass greeted him in the half-darkness, and the gulls flew quietly above him, wings rustling pleasantly with the soft breeze. The wind smelled differently here. A low ache in his heart told him how much he missed the sweet scent of the Caribbean-- the palms, the crystal water. Here, even the sound of the waves felt exotic.

The single deckhand stood beside him, tanned and muscled despite his stature. Norrington secretly relished his height, something he had taken for granted among the men he was familiar with. This deckhand, whose name he had found to be either Lang or Long for he answered to both, was silent and followed orders wordlessly. His long, perfectly black hair was braided behind him in an immaculate queue. Norrington offered a sideways smile, and the man tried to return it.

"I don't suppose you speak English, do you?" He asked uselessly. Lang-Long cocked his head in an almost comic way. Norrington shook his head, crossing his arms and leaning on the railing before him. "No, I didn't suppose you could. With my disastrous luck, you might have been a beautiful woman." A beautiful woman, such as the one sleeping beside Samuel McCormick at that moment. He silently cursed himself for bringing it up.

Lang-Long had wandered off again, probably to shore up a sail or somesuch. Another long half hour dragged by, the sun finding the sky and taking up its usual route without complication. The breeze combed its fingers through Norrington's hair as he watched the gray outline of Taiwan become slowly more detailed. After uncounted minutes staring at the shoreline as it approached, Long-Lang pressed a warm cup into his hands. It steamed in the cooler air and Norrington held it to his nose. It was tea, but to his surprise it tasted of silken herbs rather than the common leaf used in British tea. He smiled his thanks to the deckhand, who nodded and moved off again.

The Chinese tea was soothing down his throat, and he was thankful once again for the retreat from the usual drink of choice of the East India Trading Company. His heart balked momentarily, his mind retreating to the grinning face of Cutler Beckett aboard the Valor, turning slightly and mocking him with the simple phrase, "Sparrow is dead." The visage of a calculative madman, smirking in halflight, having every upper-hand possible. The navy of Port Royal-- and who knew how many others?-- and now Davy Jones at his command. The very thought of his Gorgon against an armada that size made him cold through his core. He allowed himself another long draught of tea.

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Norrington extended his hand to help Elizabeth down from the gangplank. She took it without second thought. As according to Samuel's dream that night, they had not pulled into a port when Taiwan peeked its head above the waves. A deserted stretch of beach served their purpose much better. The foliage seemed to alleviate Samuel's worries, and he joyfully accompanied the two of them off of the boat. Norrington had pleaded with the captain to stay moored until the three of them returned, and an additional payment secured that purpose. The sand gave slightly under Norrington's weight, and he glanced warily at the bamboo-infested stretch of forest awaiting them.

"Why is it we couldn't set in at the port?" Elizabeth asked, looking well-rested and glad to be off the ship.

"A feeling, Miss Elizabeth," Samuel said, exchanging a glance with his captain, "that there might be something more interesting over this way." She still hadn't asked why the two of them had wanted her along, and Norrington had been glad of it. It had been a sudden urge of his, and he knew that she would enjoy the adventure, no matter how short it turned out to be. Not to mention his selfish wish to be beside Elizabeth, no matter the reason. Norrington unsheathed his sword to keep his mind from that particular reason. The surf caught his legs in its spray, causing Elizabeth to retreat further up the beach along with Samuel.

"Lead the way, young Samuel," Norrington prompted, taking his blade to the nearest swath of bamboo and cutting it down to prepare a path. He pulled the boy closer in confidentiality. "I believe that neither of us know exactly what it is we are looking for, but I do know that you have a bit more of an inkling than I do." Samuel gave a strained nod, then took Norrington's sword as it was given to him. He grinned as the fine blade cut through the bamboo saplings in his way. A true pirate at heart.

Norrington cast an eye upon Elizabeth, who grinned, pulled her hat closer against her head, and followed the boy into the underbrush. Norrington copied her stance and kept a close beat.

The thick green foliage soon brought the morning sun beating down upon them. Norrington's sword, heavy but well-maintained in Samuel's hand, sliced here and there at an arrant branch or stick of bamboo. Despite the sweat running thick down his young face, he was smiling with sword in hand, precisely where he wanted to be. Between the wide world and Captain Norrington, with a sword in his hand and a dream in his heart.

Elizabeth's hat was discarded, waving air into her face, hair still tied up to keep her neck cool. Her adventurous grin had faded, but had not left entirely. The reason for her continued grin was was currently trudging behind her, swatting absently at a circling insect. Norrington was not accustomed to delightful excursions into the jungle, his last ending in a sword fight atop a rather large, spinning wheel. Therefore, he held a rather sour outlook on the verdancy on the whole and expressed it with every movement that he made. He attempted to look amused for Samuel's sake, but with the whip of a branch to the face, he was beginning to regret his involvement.

"You're sure that this will help us save Jack?" Elizabeth asked, more for Norrington's sake than her own. She was glad to be free of cramped quarters. Samuel looked over his shoulder, smiling his childish smile as he took another swipe at the vegetation before him.

"Mr. Sparrow?" Samuel asked. "Is that what Captain Norrington told you?"

Elizabeth turned a wary eye on the man behind her, who shrugged innocently.

Suddenly, Samuel came to a halt. The sword was at his side, eyes forward into the leaves. Elizabeth turned inquisitively to Norrington, who came up alongside the boy, leaning a hand on his shoulder. Elizabeth followed in suit, leaning a hand on Norrington's shoulder to listen in.

"Samuel?" Norrington asked, following his gaze into the brush.

"He's here," Samuel said cryptically. He turned wide eyes to his captain, and fear was reflected there. Elizabeth quickly unsheathed her own sword, but remained at Norrington's side. He knew instantly the man Samuel spoke of. An intense-eyed, sword-weilding pirate of Orient import, sly and deadly-- and they hadn't even met. But he knew. She had showed him.

His sword was suddenly in his hand again. Samuel had traded it for his smaller dagger. The three of them had begun to back away from their spots, keeping cautious eyes aware of their surroundings. Norrington circled, hand reaching for the stolen derringer still stuck into his belt.

"I wouldn't," came a low dark voice inches from his ear, "if you enjoy life."

His heart caught somewhere between his stomach and his throat. His hand slowly retreated from his pistol, and he held up his hands, one of which had discarded his sword on the grassy ground at his feet. He could still hear the crashing of waves.

A strangled voice just behind him caused the man to whip around in terror.

"James," Elizabeth choked, sword placed gently over her jugular. It took Samuel's shaking hand on his arm to keep from leaping forward. Frightened eyes met, each without anything to give the other. They were surrounded, and they couldn't even glimpse their captors' faces. All save one.

He stood, grinning with a mouthful of yellowed teeth, just behind Elizabeth, his chipped sword dancing above her skin. She flinched from the jagged edge, looking equal parts terrified and disgusted by the man's smell. He matched her in height, something not easily said of other men of Chinese nationality, and his head was clean of any hair. He held a cocky grin, eyes flicking from man to boy effortlessly and without hurry.

"Well, hello," he said in nearly perfect English marred only by his dark accent, turning his face to press up against Elizabeth's cheek. She hissed in disgust, turning her face away. Norrington tensed, Samuel holding him back simply by keeping a hold on his arm. Their captor gave Elizabeth an appraising look. "Too good for a pirate, aye?"

"I assure you," she replied through clenched teeth, "that not all pirates are created equal, sir."

"That's Captain to you, Miss Elizabeth," the man retorted. Norrington flinched. They had been followed for quite some time. She was silent. He held the sword closer to her neck, bringing a dry cry from her lips. Norrington made to move boldly forward, but found that someone other than Samuel was holding him back. A small, dirty pirate, the same nationality as his captain, was holding Norrington's arms dangerously behind his back.

"Captain," Elizabeth muttered barely above her breath. The captain smiled dangerously, drinking in Elizabeth through his eyes.

"Stop that!" Norrington shouted at last, struggling against the grip of his captor, who apparently was stronger than he let on. The captain looked up as if seeing Norrington for the first time. He took in Norrington with one swoop of the eyes.

"And you might be?"

"Captain Norrington," he spat back, fire in his eyes. "And I expect a name from you before we speak any further."

"Captain Norrington," the asian man repeated in mocking undertones, "you will be the death of this woman if you do not stop talking." Norrington quickly took the hint, stepping back slightly to where Samuel and his own captor stood to the left. "That's better."

Norrington tried his hardest not to growl in anger.

"It comes to my attention that you know a certain Jack Sparrow," the captain said, still facing Norrington. It was obvious who was the head of operations. Norrington, not wishing to speak, simply nodded his head jerkily. "Well, isn't that fortunate? Otherwise I might have done away with the lady here and now." He pressed the sword against Elizabeth's neck, and she bit her lip to keep the worried cries in.

Though they obviously spoke little or no English, the surrounding pirates chuckled mirthlessly. Their captain joined them, and he lowered his sword slightly, though it was still trained on Elizabeth.

"Jack Sparrow has something that I want," the captain said, still to Norrington. "It's been a long time since dear old Jack came to visit his friend Sao Feng in Singapore." He gave Norrington a knowing glance, then looked to Elizabeth. "I would very much like to see him again."

"He's dead," Norrington said quickly.

Silence seized the congregation, and Elizabeth held her breath. Then, a wide, ugly smile broke on Captain Feng's features. At his reaction, the rest of his crew broke into laughter. Feng joined them, his laughter barking in quick bursts.

"The English are terrible liars, as I have come to find, Captain Norrington." He held the sword tight against Elizabeth's neck again, all humor gone from his face. "I should like to see our friend Captain Sparrow. Perhaps as much as you should like to see this woman alive again."

"Don't--" Norrington growled, testing the strength of his captor's hold as he surged forward. Feng appraised his movement, and Norrington knew he had made a mistake as soon as the man grinned cruelly.

"You find me Jack Sparrow, you find yourself holding this woman again." His bargaining was as straightforward as Sparrow's was twisted. "How does that sound for a deal?"

Norrington found the ire in his throat made him incapable of meshing coherent thought.

The whole situation was suddenly convoluted as Samuel slipped from the pirate's grip, stabbing him through the knee with his trusty dagger. The man cried out in a language unknown, and Samuel ran forward with murder in his eye, his target the man holding Norrington captive.

"Samuel!" Norrington tried. But as soon as the word had escaped him, he felt the hard hilt of a sword come crashing down against his skull. Lights flashed before his eyes, and as he fell, he heard the screams and crashing of foliage that could only indicate Feng dashing away with his prize. His vision had gone dark long before he hit the ground.

He awoke what felt like moments later to the sound of the sloshing sea and the sobbing of a ten-year-old boy. He tried sitting up quickly, only to be met with stars clouding his vision. He held an aggravated hand to his forehead before searching for the cries of Samuel McCormick. He was found quickly, only seven feet from where he had lain, knees curled up to his chest and the body of a slain sailor of Captain Feng at his feet. Samuel was covered in foreign blood, and his eyes were shot from the tears pouring from them.

"C-Captain," he choked, eyes widening. "You're all right?"

"Fine," Norrington uttered, feeling the dryness of his throat. "What--?"

"I killed him," Samuel said with a watery voice. "He was going to kill you."

Norrington stood silently, wobbling as he made his way to Samuel. He wordlessly pulled the boy to his feet and held him close in a fatherly embrace. Samuel choked again, letting more tears fall from his eyes.

"Th-They took Miss E-Elizabeth," Samuel sobbed against Norrington's chest. Norrington comfortingly stroked the boy's hair.

"We'll get her back," Norrington assured him. And the strength in his voice not only convinced the boy, but himself. And it was he who needed it the most.

"How? If we can't find Captain Sparrow--"

"We don't need Captain Sparrow," Norrington answered quickly. "All we need is the proper leverage, and anything is possible." He extracted Samuel from his death grip on his midsection. "We need Captain Barbossa, damn him."

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AN: Okay, a buncha things to say. First off, SORRY for delaying so long after vacation. I had an uber going away party because I'm going to college here pretty soon. I also caught a ginormous fishy in case anyone's wondering what I was doing in Canada. Secondly, FF.n isn't letting me use the page breaks, so I have to go all ghetto on you. Sorry 'bout that too. Thirdly, I finally introduced that danged new character. I don't know a lot about Cap'n Feng so forgive me if you think I could do better. Fourthly, SO SORRY it's taking so long to get to Jack. It;s just the way things go I guess. SO to make up for all the sorries, I give you my longest chapter yet! Go me! Huzzah, and happy reading!