Thank you so much to reviewers Nicole Kazan, Arquenniel, AKA Parfait, shewhoshallwrite, willabeth0906, Telcontar Rulz, Lauren, and WillsElizabeth23! I love hearing what you all think!
Anonymous Reviewer Replies:
AKA Parfait: Thanks so much for the review! Ah, yes. Isaly. Her character was so much fun to develop! :)
Lauren: Thanks very much for the review! And here's the next chapter! I hope it lives up to your expectations.
WillsElizabeth23: Thanks so much for the review! Oh, yay! That means a lot! Yes, the Woods girls are in for quite the bumpy ride. Jack's new plans might be a long time in coming but he'll think of something. :) And Willabeth comfort will appear probably in the next chapter...
Chapter 24: Unexpected Turns
Mariel and Celia's first view of the corner was not in the least what they'd expected.
Two fierce brown eyes were turned on them over a pistol's barrel and a sword's blade. Streaming, honey brown hair tumbled over the slight shoulders, framing a tan but strikingly beautiful face.
Raising her hands in what she hoped to be a placating gesture, Mariel attempted to assert her intentions of peace. "S'il vous plait, non."
The woman remained unmoved but a dark figure slumped behind her straightened.
"Mademoiselle, nous ne pensons pas à mal." Mariel bumbled over the words, unaware that all she had yet to speak one word of English.
Celia, however, did notice. "Mariel, anglais."
"liz'be'h?" The dark figure mumbled, shifting towards them.
The woman's gaze never left Mariel and Celia though merely her expression informed them that she cared a great deal. Her voice was soothing as she said, "Everything's fine, Will."
Mariel couldn't have cared less for the woman's weapons at that instant. "Will? Monsieur Turner?"
The figure stood slowly as if with great effort, placed a hand on the rough wall and stumbled into their view.
"Will!" Mariel's apprehension melted away in relief at his familiar face. "It is you!"
Jack pummeled after the strange girl half wondering what on earth he, Captain Jack Sparrow, was doing following her while the other half of him fought not to urge her to run faster.
In the end, it was his drive towards self preservation that won out over a tale worthy of his reputation. This would be an occurrence to be locked away forever in the forgotten vault of stories in the very hindmost part of his brain so that no one would ever hear of it.
Secure in that knowledge, he opened his mouth to tell her to move faster. But his lips scarcely parted before she screeched to halt.
"Oi! What are you doing? Move! Run! Fast!" He waved his hands, wildly trying to get his point across.
She only whirled about. He was thought as if looking for something perhaps?
Jack would have commented. Unfortunately though, he saw what she had seen only moments previously.
A troop of redcoats were not only behind them but now in front of them. They were rapidly closing in on their prey and with no escape routes things didn't exactly look sunny.
That was what caused Jack to join in enthusiastically to the lass's search. For when one can't run, one must hide.
Precious minutes seemed to slip through their fingers like sand as they turned the place practically upside down.
The upheaval came to a swift halt though when Jack saw something, something that wouldn't normally stick out of a wall, unless it was the custom of Alabanza Vacia to use their walls as coat hangers. Particularly coat hangers that squashed the poor jacket between slabs of stone, leaving the unfortunate garment to stick out like some queer flag.
"Wot's this?" Jack poked the article of clothing suspiciously as if it would jump out and eat him. But the prodding resulted in nothing more than Jack's forefinger to go sore. He placed his boot on the wall and in an act of revenge grasped the coat tail with two smudged hands.
He vaguely noticed while tightening his grip that the lass, too, had stopped moving and was staring curiously over his shoulder. Pressing his lips in a thin line, he gave the cloth a quick, hard jerk.
Abruptly, the world was spinning. Was he moving forward or was that just his imagination?
Jack wasn't quite sure what happened until he realized he was laying face first in the dirt with something that smelled of lavender lying on top of him. There was a soft grunt, some rustling and then the weight was gone.
"Monsieur?"
Jack pulled himself to his feet and looked at the lass who'd been using him as a cushion. The words she'd spoken had caught his attention and he grinned broadly. "Ah, a French lass. I used to know a few of them. Lovely girls."
She turned a glare on him that was highly reminiscent of a certain amber eyed pregnant blond he knew. He cringed at the very thought. "Apologies." He murmured, pressing his hands together in a penitent manner.
After a long moment of staring she broke the contact and began to peer around them because they certainly weren't in the rainy streets anymore.
"Where are we?" she whispered, eyes glued in awe to the smooth earthen walls and roof surrounding them. Torches illuminated the small area, revealing a long passageway that curved and twisted to impede their view of the complete space.
"That," Jack lifted both forefingers, "is a very good question. One that also has a very good answer. We are, love, in a tunnel."
Jones sat brooding in his lair. One lone candle flickered on the table in front of him, leaving the rest of the earthen room in darkness. His eyes centered on the candle's flame and he couldn't help but be mesmerized by it.
Such a small but powerful thing. It held the grace of a dancer and the brute force of steel. It had the fragility of a rose petal and the strength to bring down cities. And perhaps it was that caught his attention.
The utter unpredictability of it all as the thing that kept it hedged in could also be the very thing that kept it alive. It fascinated him.
"My love," a soft voice purred in his ear and pulled him from his meanderings.
"Isaly," he relaxed under her fingers, the gentle touch slowly working the tightness from his shoulders. "Have they found Sparrow?"
"In the east tunnel, next to the tanner's home."
"Is Turner with him?"
"Unfortunately no. But Sparrow has a woman with him and I've heard from reputable sources that Turner's wife is on the island."
Jones turned to face her. "You think the woman is Turner's wife?"
"Aye."
"Jack Sparrow," Jones spat the name out like a curse, "is not known for fidelity. What makes you think this isn't another one of his women?"
"Henry, do you remember the woman that came with Sparrow? The one with child?"
He remembered the woman clearly enough. She looked disgusted with his entire operation which to him was downright insulting since she was no higher than he. She was, however, a pretty little thing for all of her uppity ideas. "Aye…"
"Who else could she be but his Sparrow's latest wench? She most certainly isn't Turner's wife for it's said that he married a governor's daughter. The woman who came with Sparrow knew how to handle a sword, anyone with eyes could have seen that. And tell me, what self respecting governor's daughter would learn swordplay?"
"Would you?"
"Of course, and you know well my skills in that department." She laughed lightly and pressed her lips to his temple. "But then, I am no Governor's daughter."
"Will, how do you know them?" Elizabeth struggled to keep the jealousy and irritation from her voice. He had obvious endured much. She would not add to his burden, even though the presence of these two girls sent spikes of pain through her heart.
"Saved…my life," Will's eyes drooped shut before he jerked them back open, "when I…got shot."
"Shot?" Elizabeth's pitch shot up to an earsplitting shriek, all thoughts of possible infidelity flying right out of her head. "Who? When?"
"Madame, we have no time for this talk." Mariel interjected impatiently. "The English. They are coming."
Elizabeth's face drained of color faster than anyone would have thought possible. "Will?" she asked tremulously. "Can you stand?"
"Liz'bet', jus' go." Will slurred drowsily, swatting her concerned hands away.
"Will, no, you're going to be fine. We will return home and fix up the nursery before the baby is born." Elizabeth hooked her arm around his waist and heaved.
Nothing happened.
Fighting the bile that rose in her throat at the thought of leaving her husband behind, she tried again, pulling harder. Her muscles strained to lift his larger frame. Yet the burden grew lighter and, a moment later, Will was standing.
Elizabeth felt a warm hand touch her own and saw the two French girls on Will's other side, bearing half of his weight. Gently, they smiled at her and she was surprised to find no suspicion or malice in those brown eyes…merely compassion.
"Are you ready?" she queried, hoping they had more strength than she. This day had thrown her far too many emotional upheavals.
"Yes." And they began forward.
For minutes there was only the sound of the patter of rain, their labored breathing, their heavy footsteps, Elizabeth's constant stream of murmuring to Will about their home in Port Royal, and the echo of gunfire from below.
"And we'll hang the curtains in the parlor just like you said." She puffed, remembering the pale linen Will preferred to the austere velvet that normally hung from windows. "Then we'll-"
A string of hoarse shouts in the crisp English accent and the clatter of approaching soldiers sounding above the torrents of the storm cut off her reassuring commentary.
"Redcoats! Quick! This way!" Elizabeth directed them towards a small shack in a dark alleyway.
A horrible stench emitted from the poor building. The only lighting was a meager lamp in the center of an overturned crate. Its weak beams of illumination barely reached the walls, leaving the corners to be hidden away in shadows. A tall rectangle of darkness kept Elizabeth from turning away. It could only be a doorway.
"In there." She pointed to the 'back room' of the hut, fighting to keep her stomach's contents as they continued into the filthy space.
The area reeked of strong liquor and pipe weed. Moisture dripped from the walls, collecting in rancid pools across the dirt pathway. Matted cloth covered the shabby windows and served as a door they had passed only moments ago.
Trying not to think of anything but Will's safety, they entered the dingy room. It was a bare room with only a sagging cot pushed against where the two far walls met.
Mariel sent Elizabeth a questioning glance before they began cramming themselves under the poor cot. The end result left Mariel and Celia stuffed on one side with Will and Elizabeth pressed together on the other.
Elizabeth's hands gently held his face against hers, the rough stubble on his chin tickling her cheek. She began to relax at each breath Will took, his gentle exhale spreading warmth along her neck. Her belly was pushed against him and as Will's hand came to rest along its form the child within settled as if it knew that its father was near.
As the foursome waited apprehensively, footsteps came and passed but none of them entered the little room. There were questioning shouts of searching infantrymen. Minutes passed and the streets returned to stillness.
Breathing easier, Elizabeth began to murmur in Will's ear to keep him awake, as he had fallen into a deep stupor induced by both pain and blood loss.
Celia, hearing the soon-to-be mother's soft words, was quickly losing the battle to hold still and she found herself struggling not to investigate a little nook about two inches long that protruded from the bed's surprisingly strong frame.
Time dragged on and Celia's fingers stroked the smooth pin.
Mariel noticed her sister's attentions and felt a note of trepidation rise within her. "Celia, what are you doing?"
Celia made to answer but suddenly the pinion moved into the bed frame with a firm thunk. There was a grating sound, followed by a loud click.
"Celia…" Mariel's tone became low and warning.
They waited for a long space of time, expecting at any moment for something terrible to happen. But there was nothing.
Celia blew out a breath and offered lamely. "Must have been a lose peg."
Elizabeth, upon hearing the soft chatter of French, moved closer to ask what had happened when suddenly the floor dropped out from underneath them. There was a final ominous bang and darkness consumed the light.
TBC...