The Sighted

Chapter 6

A Fool's Errand

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Not for the first time that day, Mabel wondered what in the world she was getting herself into. The carriage had stopped where she had requested, and she had studiously ignored her younger sister's probing questions and protests. Joyce was clearly somewhat aghast to Mabel entering the smithy alone, if at all. But Mr. Turner was the governor's daughter's husband, so he couldn't be that bad.

Mabel sent the carriage on its way, and promised her business would be done before lunch. That seemed like an adequate amount of time to do what she had come to do. However, as she'd listened to the clomping of the horse's hooves lessening with distance, she told herself she was a fool. There were so many things that could go wrong. It could all simply blow up in her face, and then where would she be?

With an enraged mother hounding her, no doubt.

Stop caring so much about what mother thinks, a resolute voice in the back of her head told her. What she didn't know couldn't hurt her, after all.

Very good logic.

So, Mabel gathered her courage and knocked twice on the wooden door, acutely aware of the squeaking of a sign above her and the chatter of people as they went on with their days behind her.

Unconsciously, she gripped the smooth wood of her cane tighter as she waited, already so comforting in her hands.

Was no one there?

She nearly lost her nerve and turned away, but at that moment, there was a grating of wood on stone as the door swung open before her. The pungent smell of metal and smoke from within the smithy assaulted her nose, along with a gust of warm air.

"Hello," a polite voice greeted, very feminine, "How can I help you?" she spoke, as if Mabel was some lost soul.

Mabel recognized the cultured accent of a lady immediately. Hers was much the same, after all. Her fingers loosened on the cane and she relaxed somewhat.

"Elizabeth Turner?" she questioned, and imagined the look of confusion on the woman's face. She hadn't expected the woman to be at her husband's smithy, well at least not while he was working.

"Yes…" Elizabeth replied hesitantly, her eyes fixed on the well-dressed woman before her. She was very petite, a good deal shorter than herself. Her hair was pinned neatly atop her head with combs, and there was a wooden cane in her hands. Her eyes held a strange look in them, one Elizabeth wasn't altogether sure she liked.

Then, Elizabeth noticed the elegantly carved cane held in the woman's hands, and something sparked her memory.

"My name is—" the woman spoke, eyes fixed on Elizabeth's face.

"Mabel Browning, I know," the governor's daughter finished with the slightest pinch of wonder in her voice, as if she had never thought she would meet such a person.

The woman seemed shocked, and she opened her mouth in surprise before she found the words to speak.

"Yes…how did you know?"

Elizabeth smiled, but it fell as soon as she realized Mabel could not see it. "I doubt there is a soul in this town that hasn't heard your name at least once. Your brother—he's quite famous among the navy men, and your mother, I hear she's very influential among the local businesses. That's very uncommon."

Mabel gave the barest hint of a smile and gestured to her eyes. "This as well," she added curtly.

Elizabeth stared hard into the woman's unseeing eyes before responding with a faraway, "Yes…"

There was a sudden call from inside the smithy, and Elizabeth snapped into attention. She took in Mabel's appearance all over again before realizing belatedly how impolite her last comment had been.

"Oh dear, my apologies! I didn't mean it like that!" she apologized, feeling strangely ashamed and very uncomfortable.

Mabel smiled. "No bother," she assured the younger woman. It happened constantly. Over the years, she had discovered that people simply didn't know how to act around blind woman. They were afraid of saying something rude, yet frightened of saying nothing at all.

"Elizabeth! Who's at the door?" a voice called from inside the smithy, deep, masculine.

The woman in question turned quickly. "A guest, Will! Now would you keep your voice down?" She faced Mabel again and noticed how she was clutching the cane with a death-grip. She realized the blind woman was nervous, and smiled softly. It was habit.

"Would you like to come in?" she asked kindly. "I'm assuming you came all the way to see us?"

"If you wouldn't mind…" Mabel began tentatively.

Without allowing the blind woman to finish her sentence, Elizabeth gently took hold of her arm, and hooking it in hers, led their visitor inside. Mabel was led carefully down a set of stairs before she was ushered into a seat at a large wooden table off to the side of the smithy. The pungent smell of sweat and metal was stronger now.

Elizabeth then left her a moment, and Mabel was aware of whispered conversation going on somewhere over to her far right. She turned her head in that direction as she set her cane leaning upon a table leg.

"Mabel," Elizabeth's voice called moments later, and Mabel heard footsteps. "I'd like you to meet my husband, Will. He owns this shop."

Will Turner wiped his hands off with a dirty rag, studying the woman before him. Elizabeth had briefly told him that she was blind and the daughter a lady named Eleanor Browning. He immediately recalled hearing about the family's eldest daughter once before, but hadn't imagined her to be the small woman sitting before him now. He couldn't help but wonder what had brought her to his smithy, but pushed his thoughts aside once he realized he hadn't even spoken yet.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Browning."

Mabel smiled. "Likewise, Mr. Turner. I hear you're the finest blacksmith in all of Jamaica. How is the business going?" She heard someone take a seat at the table, and assumed it was Elizabeth. Folding her hands neatly before her, she realized they probably wouldn't be so hospitable when they found out the reason she was really paying them a visit.

"Very well, thank you. Your brother, Thomas, came in here a few days ago and requested a new sword. He's a very nice fellow."

"Well, I hope so. I was the one who taught him all his manners," Mabel said with all conviction. "Tell me, did he say what he needed a new sword for?" She couldn't help but be nosy. Her family's business was her own, after all.

Will hesitated a moment before answering. "I understand there was a Navy battle not a week ago. Your brother told me he lost his best sword in the battle, and requested I make him a new one," he explained, watching her closely. She seemed to grow solemn upon hearing this.

"A navy battle with two pirate ships, I'd heard. That's what I've come to speak to you two about," Mabel told them, and her fingers itched to touch the smooth wood of her cane. Ironic how she'd become instantly attached to something she's refused to use before

Both the Turners were silent, and Mabel took that as a cue to continue. "The navy is being rather tight-lipped, but I know that one of the two pirate ships in the battle was confirmed to be the Black Pearl

"The Black Pearl?" Elizabeth echoed, shocked.

"I wasn't sure if you knew yet…" Mabel hesitated, once again questioning her motives.

"We'd know soon enough through the governor," Will stated, sounding quite agitated. "That wasn't what you really came to tell us."

"Will!" Elizabeth gasped.

But Mabel had expected just that, and had been silently preparing herself for any hostility. "Very well, I'll tell you my story, Mr. Turner. Four days ago, I was out walking my dog down to the beach by my property when I stumbled head first into a band of…well, I wasn't quite sure who they were at the time," she said. "They seemed quite hostile, and I'm just glad I had my dog with me."

Before any interruptions, Mabel rushed on.

"And just yesterday my dog caught a scent down by the beach. I'm assuming it was one of the men. The result was quite…interesting, to say the least. Royce, my dog, ran off, and I, while trying to find him, managed to get myself lost!" Mabel managed a small smile in hopes of humouring the two "I was found by the same man I had encountered two days earlier, and he taken to their camp. My dog was safely returned to me and I left unharmed. I requested the leader's name before I left." Pausing, she let that sink in before speaking carefully. "He called himself John Smith."

"That name means nothing to us," Will replied a little too hastily.

"I thought so," Mabel said. "But will you allow me to make an assumption?"

When they remained silent, the blind woman took that as a yes and continued.

"I believe that John Smith is Jack Sparrow, and that his ship, the Black Pearl is currently anchored not far from my home."

"I fail to see how this affects us," Will replied stonily, trying to remain indifferent. He didn't know this woman and she had invaded his shop—his space—to tell him things that could very well land them all on the wrong side of the commodore.

Elizabeth, however, thought differently. "Will! Be quiet!" she scolded. "Let her speak."

Mabel could have sagged with relief if she wasn't trying to keep up appearances. "Thank you, Mrs. Turner," she said, her voicing her appreciation. "I've come to you both because I know of your involvement with Jack Sparrow. I simply wish to know if he's dangerous and poses a threat to me or my family," she said succinctly, and then braced herself for refusal and denial. She didn't actually know if the Turners would take any interest with Jack Sparrow now that he was out of their lives.

What she couldn't see was the look of mutual surprise on their faces.

Will was the one to speak. "I don't know what you think we can tell you," he said tentatively. He and Elizabeth had kept in touch with Jack over the months, but Miss Mabel Browning, sister of Lieutenant Thomas Browning, need not know that.

"If you can give me one good reason why I shouldn't turn Jack Sparrow over to the authorities, my lips are sealed," Mabel implored, knowing they didn't trust her. She hadn't expected them to; she was too much of a stranger to them.

Silence reigned in the room for a long moment.

"You're making awfully big assumptions, Miss Browning," Will told her finally, sounding wary.

Mabel smiled. "Yes, well, I have an awfully big problem on my hands. And, I'd like to solve this problem without any bloodshed or the like."

Will and Elizabeth exchanged a long glance, both silently agreeing to trust the blind woman yet wondering if saying anything was a wise idea.

Inhaling deeply, Elizabeth began tentatively. "Jack Sparrow is…"

"A good man," Will finished with an inward grimace.

There, they'd done it.

Surprised, Mabel cocked her head to one side. "A pirate and a good man? Should I believe you?" she asked, wanting to believe that she was right in what she was doing.

Will sighed. There was little they could do if this woman decided to go to the commodore, so he continued. "You might as well toss everything you know about pirates out a window when it comes to Jack Sparrow," he told her wisely. "He's a contradiction in every way, yet he's not a bad man."

Restlessly, Elizabeth took the seat opposite Mabel at the large table. The blind woman was waiting for more. "The first time I metJack Sparrowwas when he saved me from drowning," she recounted. "Although he did threaten to shoot only minutes after, he didn't. And I don't believe he would have."

Remaining standing, Will placed his hands on the back of Elizabeth's chair and gripped it tightly. "I'll admit the first time I met Jack, he was less than amiable—or likable. But I wasn't much better," he remarked. "However, he did agree to help me rescue Elizabeth after she'd been kidnapped."

"You've heard the story?" Elizabeth queried curiously.

"I've heard it, but I've yet to decide how much truth there is to it," Mabel replied wryly. "It sounds ridiculous."

Elizabeth frowned slightly, but continued. "We won't recount the whole thing. I'm afraid it's much too long for that. However, during the time that I've known Jack, he's saved my life more than once…"

"And mine more than I'd care to admit," Will added ruefully.

Mabel digested this information slowly. A good man? A pirate who saves lives? She wondered whether to believe them, and then wondered if they had reason to lie. If they disliked the man, they'd surely want him to hang! Once again, she questioned herself for being there. It was entirely against the law, for one, for aiding a convicted criminal. Not that the law was always in the right. No one was always right.

And Thomas would be very disappointed in her.

Not that she really minded.

"All right, I believe you," Mabel acceded finally.

Elizabeth smiled. "Really?"

Will seemed less than convinced. "Miss Browning, excuse me if I think it's odd that you came all the way down here to ask us to tell you that Jack is a good man. Why didn't you just go to Commodore Norrington? Or tell your brother! He doesn't know, does he?" He eyed the blind woman distrustfully.

Elizabeth gave her husband a sharp look, but Mabel didn't seem too offended.

"You're right. I suppose this seems rather strange to you," she said. "Why in the world would I want to help a man like Jack Sparrow?"

Will nodded out of habit. "He seems to be nothing but trouble for you."

"He is," Mabel agreed. "Which is why I want him off my land as soon as possible, so I won't have to go on any longer trying to pretend he isn't there." She raised her chin the slightest, trying to look superior. "And I'd rather do it without involving the law. I don't speak of anyone's death lightly, Mr. Turner. Hanging a man while hundreds watch on in glee is neither cultured nor civilized. I'm doing my best to keep your…friend," she spoke the word carefully, "from that, but I'll need your help."

Will and Elizabeth exchanged a raised eyebrow.

"It's nice to know someone shares our views," Elizabeth said finally with a smile.

A look of eager hopefulness lit up Mabel's face. "So you'll help me…and Jack Sparrow?"

"Of course!" Elizabeth cried, startling them all."Why not?" she stated, looking pointedly at Will.

He had opened his mouth as if to protest, but closed it just as quickly. "Yes, why not?" he echoed helplessly.

Elizabeth was beaming. "And you know where he is?" she asked Mabel, clearly eager.

For a moment, Mabel was speechless, taken aback by their quick decision. "I believe there's a cove where he's anchored his ship."

"He's probably doing repairs," Will realized. "It would take weeks…"

"Too long to be near Fort Charles, right under the Commodore's nose!" Elizabeth cried out in realization. "Poor Jack! He's alright, isn't he?" she implored, as if a dam had broken when they'd agreed to help her, and now thousands of questions were pouring into her head. "Oh, Will, we have to see him!"

Mabel tried not to look too relieved.

"I was thinking much the same thing," she said.

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Later, Will and Elizabeth watched Mabel climb into a carriage from the entrance of the smithy. The driver tipped his hat to them once, and Will caught sight of a curious face peering out from the window just before the carriage jerked into motion.

"Can we trust her?" Elizabeth voiced both their worries.

Will watched the carriage as it turned a corner and was out of sight. "I hope so, although I have my doubts. Her brother is a man of the navy…"

"She's a contradiction in herself," Elizabeth smiled. "She certainly doesn't seem too concerned about having a pirate so near her home."

He turned to Elizabeth, a wry look on his face.

"Can you imagine Miss Mabel Browning meeting Captain Jack Sparrow?" he asked amusedly.

Elizabeth arched one delicate eyebrow at him. "That must have been something to see," she replied simply.

"Something," Will echoed, shaking his head in bemusement. He snaked an arm around Elizabeth's waist, eliciting a surprised squeak from her. He tugged her inside and kicking the door closed with his foot. "Now, I believe you came down to see me today with lunch?" he inquired curiously.

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Mabel sank back into her seat with a sigh, aware that Joyce was staring intently at her and Annie was most likely focusing on the scenery but was also very interested in her.

"How was your visit with the Turners?" Joyce inquired finally, sounding impatient.

"Productive," Mabel answered vaguely.

"I noticed both of them in the doorway, there,"Joyce said. "Elizabeth is quite pretty…and that Will Turner…"

"They're very friendly," Mabel told her sister.

"Mrs. Amcotts saw you knocking on the smithy's door, and she came running to me while I was looking at fabrics," Joyce stated. "She asked me what you were doing there…alone."

Mabel bit back a smile as she listened to her sister. "And what did you say?"

"Well! I told her I didn't know!" Joyce said loudly. "And that old bag will be gossiping all about Port Royal."

"She's harmless," Mabel reasoned. "And why should it matter?"

Joyce sniffed. "You're right. Why should it matter? But she'll make it matter."

"Let her," Mabel replied tartly.

Huffing to herself, Joyce fell silent. Mabel revelled in the near silence to gather her wits again, settling down in her seat and listening to the clopping of the horse's hooves as they trotted along with the carriage. Her meeting with the Turner's had been unexpected, to be sure. She hadn't been sure what to think of them, and she was surprised they were as understanding as they had been. Yet, she hadn't felt more like an outsider in all her life.

They were friends of a pirate, though, Mabel reminded herself. Yet they were completely likable.

Mabel turned her head as if gazing out the window, hidingthe sudden onslaught of emotions running through her if they happen to show on her face.Was this really what she had been hoping for? This great secret involving so much deceit and lies? She still had half the mind to go running to Thomas and tell him everything, but the vision of a noose in her mind's eye kept her mouth firmly shut. She would never forget the sound of the drums as their staccato sped up seconds before the lever was pulled and the rope tightened. The sound of utter silence as the crowd held their breath, and then the jeers and calls as the dead, hanged, swung from the end of a thick rope.

No, Mabel did not much like hangings, and as much as her covert actions weighed on her mind, she was convinced she was doing the right thing. The Turners had only strengthened her ideals.

She wouldn't have to worry for much longer, however. Jack Sparrow would be out of her life again soon—and she hoped it wouldn't be by the gallows. And she—she would continue on the way she had for years. Peaceful and content in a life without errant pirates and dangerous secrets looming ominously over her head and heart.

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That night the fires burned low in the pirate camp. Men lay scattered about the beach, snoring and grunting in their sleep, blankets tangled in their legs or pulled up to their chins. Thebattered formof the Black Pearl lay still on her side, the torn black sails flapping slightly in the cool breeze. The moon hung like a silver eye above the men,watching them closely through the night as they slept.

One man in the camp wasn't asleep, however.

Jack lay on his stomach close to the dying embers of his fire, hat and boots beside him in the sand. With the combined pale light from the moon and the golden glow from the fire, his eyes searched the contents of a thin piece of parchment. Words and places he didn't recognize stared back at him, taunting him quietly with their secrecy.

Slowly, he turned on his side to watch his Pearl. They hadn't made much progress in the last few days, lacking the proper tools and timber.

His dark eyes turned back to the parchment, and he wondered if this small scrap of paper had been worth everything he and his ship had been through in the past weeks, and then he wondered what would happen within the next.

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Any reviews for this not so poor authoress? ;)

--Cayenne Pepper Powder